THE
MILITAEY HEROES
or THE
WAR OF 1812:
WITH A
NABRATTVE OF THE WAE,
BY CHARLES J. PETERSON.
TENTH EDITION.
PHILADELPHIA:
PUBLISHED BY JAS. B. SMITH A CO.,
NO. 610 CHESTNUT ST.
1858.
E.35J
EUTDIED according to Act of Congress, In the year 1852, fry
J. A J. L. GIHON,
to the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District of PennsylTMiia.
&
TO
MAJOR-GENERAL WINFIELD SCOTT
THIS WORK 19
RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
BY THE ATJTHOR
PREFACE.
THE war of 1812 furnishes little to gratify the military
annalist until he approaches its close. The imbecility of the
Generals and the number of their defeats, naturally dispirit an
author. He feels the subject continually checking him ; and
is delighted, when the campaign of 1814 opening, affords him
something beside disgrace and disaster to record. The un-
promising nature of the subject has prevented any writer of
ability from taking it up : and hence a good history of the
War of 1812 is as yet unknown to the language.
There is no attempt in the following pages to supply this
deficiency. Indeed such an endeavor would be foreign to the
purpose of this work. The narrative of the war is but sub-
ordinate to the main design of the volume, and hence the
author has contented himself with a mere outline sketch, tho
only merit of which, if he has succeeded in his aim, is in be
VI PREFACE.
ing authentic and comprehensive. The details of the picture
are left to be filled up from the Biographies.
The nature of the theme has forced the author to depart,
in a measure, from the plan of his work. There are several
Generals noticed who have no pretensions to be Heroes ; but
the story would be incomplete without them. The author
has not hesitated, however, to express his opinion as to the
merits of each officer ; and, so far forth, has carried out his
original design. Whether his opinions are correct must be
left for impartial criticism to decide.
CONTENTS.
PREFACE,
PAGES
THE WAR OF 1812.
PRELIMINARY CHAPTER, ...
BOOK I. ORIGIN OF THE WAR,
BOOK II. To THE SPRING OF THE YEAB 1814,
BOOK III. To THE CLOSE OF THE CONTEST, -
THE HEROES OF THE WAR OF 1812.
WILLIAM HULL, - - .
JAMES WINCHESTER, ....
ZEBULON MONTGOMERT PIKE,
HENRT DEARBORN, ....
JAMES WILKINSON, -
JOHN ARMSTRONG, ....
- 13
17
. 29
91
73
81
87
93
97
107
CONTENTS.
CROOHAW, p AM m
WILLIAM HKWRT HAHHISOW, . . . . . . -119
RICHARD M. JoHwsoir, . . . . . . 133
ISAAC SHELBT, ---.-_. 139
JACOB Bnowx, ...... 141
ELEAZKR W. RIPLBT, -... 159
JAMES MILLER, -*._. 157
NATHAX Towsoir, -......._ m
THOMAS S. JESSUF, -.*.. 175
EDMUND PENDLETOW GAIXM, ...... - 177
PETER B. PORTER, ---..., .3
ALEXANDER MACOMB, -...._. 155
SAMUEL SMITH, --..... 191
ANDREW JACKSON, -....... 197
'
HE war of 1812 was the sequel to
the war of independence. It was the
offspring of an old hatred, nurtured
into life by the arrogance of England.
Those who declaim against the war
because begun to punish wrongs perpetrated
Great Britain, when outrages nearly as
g reat on t h e p art O f France were overlooked,
do not understand the question they assume to discuss. Nations, as
well as men, will endure that from a friend which they will never
submit to frorn a foe. England had been hated by the people of the
U 13
14 PRELIMINARY CHAPTER.
United States, since the period of the Revolution; while France,
notwithstanding all her injustice, still possessed their gratitude and
sympathy. The wonder is, not that the war. took place, but that it did
not happen before. The acknowledgment of our independence had
been made with a bad grace by Great Britain in 1783, and, as if her ill
humor was never to be appeased, she continued to treat us with an
insolence that galled our national pride. The war of 1812 was not
the work of the President, nor even of his party ; but was forced on
an unwilling cabinet by the popular will. It was a war of the people.
Dangerous as the war seemed to many at the time, a single gene-
ration has established its necessity and wisdom. It is true that, at
the peace of Ghent, no acknowledgment was obtained from England
of the injustice of her system of impressment, which was the apparent
cause for embarking in the contest. But nevertheless all the
substantial benefits were on our side. We had proved that we were
not a power to be despised, either on land or sea ; and that nothing
was to be gained, but everything lost, by persisting in the struggle.
For the first two years of the strife, our armies had been defeated
almost universally. This so elated the Prince Regent, that the offer
to compromise our difficulties, which he would have been glad to
have accepted in the beginning, he now rejected ; and having just
closed the protracted struggle with Napoleon, he resolved to inundate
this country with the veterans of the Peninsula, and chastise us for
having declared war against England, when she was surrounded \v ith
foes. Accordingly the campaign of 1814 was opened by the appear-
ance of a most imposing force in America. The British officers
boasted that they would conquer and hold a portion of our territory
at least ; and even some of our own citizens, arguing from former
defeats, despaired of the country.
Two causes conspired to frustrate the calculations of the enemy,
and make him eager to secure peace on the terms he had rejected.
The first was that the nation, now seriously alarmed, began to rally in
earnest for its defence. That spirit of enthusiasm, which had burned so
brightly in 1 776, again blazed up ; and the whole Union was suddenly
turned into an armed camp, resounding with the din of preparation.
The second cause was this, the Generals to whom the command
of our armies had been committed, during the preceding campaigns,
had been old revolutionary officers, of respectable standing when
young, but now utterly exhausted by indolence and age. By the
close of 1813, however, the army had been thoroughly purged of
these imbecile leaders. A new race of Generals, composed of men
of spirit, genius and enterprise, had arisen. At the head of these
PRELIMINARY CHAPTER. 15
stood Brown. He was one of those individuals who are born war-
riors. What he wanted in knowledge, he made up in energy, and the
latter qualification was, just then, of more importance than the former.
The nation, at this crisis, required a bold man for its leader, one
not afraid of hard blows, and who, believing that the American fur-
nished as good material for a soldier as the Englishman, would never
decline a combat. Brown was even more than this. He was not
only willing to meet the British, when his forces were equal to theirs,
but even when hisnumber were decidedly inferior. He was admirably
seconded by his subordinates, especially by Scott, who had in a
measure formed the army, introducing into it the French discipline,
and changing by constant drilling, raw recruits into good soldiers.
The result of the battles of Chippewa, Lundy's Lane and Erie,
was to convince Great Britain that, in the United States, she had
found an enemy who would grow more formidable every year. As
there was nothing to be gained by a contest with such a foe, but on
the contrary, much blood and treasure to be lost, she became suddenly
as eager for a peace, as, six months before, she had been indifferent
to it. These victories taught our own people the existence of a latent
aptitude for war among themselves, of which they had never dreamed.
That the American furnished the best material for the soldier, because
as robust as others, and more intelligent, was thenceforth no longer
a heresy to assert. Discipline in the men, and ability in the com-
mander, was all that was necessary, it was seen, to render victory
probable, if not certain.
Since the war of 18 12, the United States have held a better position
among nations than before. Our naval successes over a power that
was deemed invincible at sea, suddenly awakened the attention of
Europe to this young giant of the west. The single victory of the
Constitution over the Guerriere, gained us more respect abroad,
than could have been attained by a long career of the most brilliant
successes in the arts of peace. The manner in which that triumph
was followed up, made a profound impression on the public mind on
the continent. Since the treaty of Ghent, our flag has been treated
with marked deference in foreign ports. The dazzling exploits on
jand, with which we closed the contest, had their effect also in revo-
lutionizing opinions abroad. Prior to the war of 1812, we ranked in
Europe, as a fourth-rate power only ; but since then, the position of a
second-rate one has been freely conceded to us. We have, it is true,
aspired to be considered one of the first powers in the world ; and
though this is not pretence in 1848, it was so, perhaps, in 1815. We
advance, indeed, with steps that find no parallel in history. Within
16
PRELIMINARY CHAPTER.
the last thirty years, we have passed from youth to manhood,
as in the thirty preceding years we grew from infancy to adolescence.
What was exaggeration for our fathers to assert, becomes, therefore,
less than the truth in us.
It shall be our purpose to narrate, in a rapid manner, the events
of the war of 1812, which exercised such an influence on the charac-
ter, genius and development of this nation.
BOOK I.
ORIGIN OF THE WAR.
HE war of 1812 naturally divides
itself into three great periods. The
first embraces the origin of the
war. This will necessarily con-
tain a review of the conduct of
Great Britain towards the United States,
from the peace of 1783, to the declaration
of hostilities on the 19th of June, 1812 ;
comprise an account of the celebrated
Berlin and Milan decrees, and of the Bri-
tish orders in council ; and furnish a narrative of the origin, exercise,
and perversion of the claim of England to impress seamen. The
second opens with the surrender of Detroit ; records the failure of
Harrison's winter and autumnal campaigns in 1812 ; and explains
she miscarriages of Dearborn, Wilkinson and Hampton, on the Lakes
and St. Lawrence, during the spring, summer and autumn of 1813.
This was a period of almost universal defeat for the armies of tho
II* 2 17
18 ORIGIN OF THE WAR.
United States. Inefficient Generals and undisciplined troops united
to cover the nation with disgrace. During this interval the Creek
war in the south occurred. But for some brilliant successes at sea,
and for the victory of the Thames in October, 1 SI 3, these first twenty
months of the contest would have presented only unmitigated disas-
ter. The third and last period opened in the spring of 1814, with
the most gloomy anticipations. The subjugation of Napoleon had
left England free to employ all her strength against the United States.
The veteran troops of Wellington were accordingly poured into Ca-
nada. Boasts of permanently annexing a portion of New York, or
of New England, to the British dominions were publicly made by
the English officers. But suddenly the scene changed. These splen-
did veterans were defeated in every contest, by our comparatively
raw troops. Instead of gaining a foothold in the United States the
enemy was everywhere beaten on his own soil. These results pro-
ceeded from placing bolder and younger men in command of the
army ; from disciplining the troops thoroughly ; and from the spirit
of patriotism which was now fully aroused to meet the impending
crisis. From this hour the arms of the United States were in the
ascendant. Success had at first receded from us further and still fur-
ther, like a wave withdrawing from a beach ; but suddenly the tide
turned, it rolled in, and towering higher and prouder, broke over us
in triumphs.
The peace of 1783 had been extorted by the necessities rather than
obtained by the good wiU of England. Though, by a formal treaty,
the United States were declared free and independent, they were still
hated in Great Britain as rebellious colonies. That such was the
general opinion is manifest from the letters of John Adams, our first
minister to the court of St. James, and from other authentic cotem-
porary accounts. Of course there were a few men of sufficiently en-
larged and comprehensive minds to forget the past, and urge, even
in parliament, that the trade of America would be more valuable as
an ally than a dependent. But the number of these was small in-
deed. The common sentiment in England towards the young repub-
lic was one of scornful detestation. We were despised as provin-
cials, we were hated as rebels. In the permanency of our institutions
there was scarcely a believer in all Britain. This was especially the
case prior to the adoption of the Federal Constitution. Both in par-
liament and out, it was publicly boasted that the Union would soon
fall to pieces, and that, finding their inability to govern themselves,
the different states would, one by one, supplicate to be received back
as colonies. This vain and empty expectation long lingered in the
ORIGIN OP THE WAR. 19
popular mind, and was not wholly eradicated until after the war of
1812.
Hence the new republic was treated with arrogant contempt. One
of the first acts of John Adams, as minister to England, had been to
propose placing the navigation and trade between the dominions
of Great Britain and the territories of the United States, on a basis
of complete reciprocity. By acceding to such a measure England
might have gained much, and could have lost but little. The propo-
sal was rejected almost with terms of insult, and Mr. Adams
told " that no other would be entertained." The consequences were
that the free negroes of Jamaica, and others of the poorer inhabitants
of the British West India Islands, were reduced to starvation by be-
ing deprived of their usual supplies from the United States. This
policy on the part of England naturally exasperated the Americans,
and one of the first acts of the Federal government in 1789, was to
adopt retaliatory measures. A navigation law was passed, which
has since been the foundation of all our treaties of reciprocity with
England. A tariff was also adopted as another means of retaliation.
We have lived to see Great Britain become the first to tire of re-
strictive measures, and, by a repeal on her part, invite a repeal on
ours.
In another way Great Britain exasperated the popular feeling hero
against her, and even forced the American government, once or twice,
to the verge of war. By the treaty of peace, all military posts held
by England within the limits of the United States, were to be given
up ; yet no less than six of this character, Michilimackinac, Detroit,
Oswegotche, Point au Fer, and Dutchman's Point, were long held in
defiance of the compact. These posts were made the centres of
intrigue among the savages of the northwest. Arms were here dis-
tributed to the Indians, and disturbances on our frontier fomented.
The war on the Miami, which was brought to a bloody close by
Wayne's victory, was the result principally of such secret machina-
tions. In short, England regarded the treaty of 1783 as a truce,
rather than a pacification, and long held to the hope of being able
yet to punish the revolted colonies for their rebellion. In two celebra-
ted letters written by John Adams from Great Britain, he uses the fol-
io wing decided language in reference to the secret designs of England :
" If she can bind Holland in her shackles, and France from internal
dissensions is unable to interfere, she will make war immediately
against us." This was in 1787. Two years before, he had expresed
the same ideas. " Their present system, as far as I can penetrate it,"
he wrote, is Jto maintain a determined peace with all Europe, in
20 ORIGIN OP THE WAR.
order tnat they may war singly against America, if they should think
it necessary." A sentiment of such relentless hostility, which no at-
tempt was made to disguise, but which was even arrogantly paraded
on every occasion, could not fail to exasperate those feelings of dis-
like on the part of America, which protracted war had engendered.
This mutual hatred between the two nations arose from the enmity of
the people father than of the cabinets. " There is too much reason to
believe," wrote our minister, " that if the nation had another hundred
million to spend, they would soon force the ministry into a war
against us." On the side of the United States it required all the pru-
dence of Washington, sustained by his hold on the affections of the
people, to restrain them from a war with England, after that power
had refused to surrender the military posts.
A third element 1 of discord arose when England joined the coali-
tion against France in 1793. The course which the former had pur-
sued for the preceding ten years, had, as we have seen, tended to
alienate the people of America from her, and nourish sentiments of
hostility in their bosoms. On the other hand, France, with that ad-
dress for which she is eminent, had labored to heighten the good feel-
iogs already existing between herself and the United States. A treaty
of alliance and commerce bound the two countries ; but the courteous
demeanor of France cemented us to her by still stronger ties, those
of the popular will. When, therefore, the revolution broke out in
Paris, the enthusiasm of America towards France could scarcely be
controlled. There can be no doubt that, if the subsequent excesses
had not alarmed all prudent friends of liberty, the people of this
country could not have been restrained from engaging in the strug-
gle between France and England. But the Reign of Terror, backed
by the insolence of Genet, the minister of the French republic, and
afterwards by the exactions of the Directory, checked the headlong
enthusiasm that otherwise would have embroiled us in the terrible
wars of that period. A course of strict neutrality had been selected
by Washington, as that which was most proper for the still weak con-
federacy ; and every day produced events which showed the wis-
dom of this decision. Neither Great Britain nor France, however,
was gratified by this neutrality. Each nation wished to embark us
on their side ; and both grew arrogant and insulting as they found
our resolution was not to be broken. Napoleon, on the part of
France, saw the impolicy of such treatment, and when he became
First Consul, hastened to abandon it. But England relaxed nothing,
or little. Circumstances, moreover, made her conduct practically
more irritating than that of France ; and hence prolonged and in-
ORIGIN OF THE WAR. 21
creased the exasperation felt toward her in America. We allude to
the restrictions attempted to be placed on our commerce, and to the
practice of impressing seamen found on board vessels sailing under
the flag of the United States.
As a great naval power, the policy of England has been to main-
tain certain maritime laws, which her jurists claim to be part of the
code of nations, and enforce in her admiralty courts. One principle
of these laws is this, that warlike munitions become contraband in war;
in other words that a neutral vessel cannot carry such into the ene-
my's ports. Hence, if a vessel, sailing under the flag of the United
States, should be captured on the high seas, bound for France, dur-
ing the prevalence of a war between that power and England, and
be found to be laden with ship-timber, gunpowder, or other manufac-
tured or unmanufactured articles for warlike purposes, the vessel
would, by the law of nations, become a prize to the captors. The
right to condemn a ship carrying such contraband goods, has always
been recognized by civilized nations, and indeed is founded in com-
mon justice. But England having supreme control at sea, and
being tempted by the hope of destroying the sinews of her adversa-
ry's strength, resolved to stretch this rule so as to embrace provisions,
as well as munitions of war. She proceeded, however, gradually to
her point. She first issued an order, on the 8th of June, 1793, for
capturing and bringing into port " all vessels laden, wholly or in part,
with corn, flour, or meal, and destined to France, or to other coun-
tries, if occupied by the arms of that nation." Such vessels indeed
were not to be condemned, nor their cargoes seized ; but the latter
were to be purchased on behalf of the English government ; or if
not, then the vessels, on giving due security, were to be allowed to
proceed to any neutral port. Of course the price of provisions in
France and in England was materially different, and a lucrative
traffic for the United States was, in this way, destroyed. Moreover,
this proceeding was a comparative novelty in the law of nations,
and however it might suit the purposes of Great Britain, was a gross
outrage on America. In November of the same year it was follow-
ed by a still more glaring iufraction of the rights of neutrals, in an
order, condemning to " capture and adjudication all vessels laden
with the produce of any French colony, or with supplies for such co-
lony." The fermentation in consequence of this order rose to such
a height in America that it required all the skill of Washington to
avert a war. The President, however, determining to preserve
jjeace if possible, despatched Jay to London as a Minister Plenipo-
tentiary, by \srhose frank explanations redress was obtained in a mea
22 ORIGIN OP THE WAR.
sure for the past, and a treaty negotiated ; not indeed adequate to jus
tice, but better than could be obtained again, when it expired in
1S06.
But the relaxation in the rigor of the order of November, 1793.
soon proved to be more nominal than real ; and from 1794 until the
peace of Amiens in 1802, the commerce of the United States conti-
nued to be the prey of British cruizers and privateers. After the re-
newal of the war, the fury of the belligerants increased, and with it
the stringent measures adopted by Napoleon and Great Britain. The
French Emperor, boldly avowing his intention to crush England,
forbade by a series of decrees, issued from Berlin, Milan, and Ram-
bouiliet, the importation of her commodities into any port of Europe
under his control ; and England, equally sweeping in her acts, de-
clared all such ports in a state of blockade, thus rendering any neu-
tral vessel liable to capture, which should attempt to enter them.
The legality of a blockade where there is not a naval power off
the coast competent to maintain such blockade, has always been de-
nied by the lesser maritime powers. Its effect, in the present in-
stance, was virtually to exclude the United States from foreign com-
merce. In these extreme measures Napoleon and England were
equally to be censured ; but the policy of the former did not affect
us, while that of the latter did. Hence the exasperation against the
one was extreme, and pervaded the whole community ; that against
the other was slighter, and confined only to the more intelligent. In
point of time, Napoleon was the first to begin these outrages on the
rights of neutrals; but his injustice was practically felt only on
land ; while England was the first to introduce the paper blockade,
a measure ruinous to American merchants. This was done finally
on the 16th of May, 1806, when Great Britain announced a "block-
ade of the coast, rivers and ports, from the river Elbe to the port of
Brest, inclusive." On the 21st of November, of the same year, Na-
poleon, in retaliation, issued a decree from Berlin, placing the British
islands in a state of blockade. This decree was followed by a still
more stringent order in council on the part of England.
It now became necessary for the United States, either to embark
in a war or to withdraw her commerce altogether from the ocean.
The popular voice demanded the former course. Though France,
in the abstract, was as unjust as England, her oppressive measures
did not, as we have said, affect America, and hence the indignation
of the people was directed principally against Great Britain. But
with the President it was different. Though the sympathies of Jef-
ferson were all with France, his judgment was against her as well as
ORIGIN OP THE WAR. 23
England. Besides he was determined to preserve peace at all hazards,
for it was his favorite maxim that the best war is more fatal than
the worst peace. A further reason led him to refuse the alternative
of war. He was not without hope that one or both of the bellige-
rants would return to reason, and repeal their obnoxious acts, if the
conduct of the United States, instead of being aggressive, should be
patient. Actuated by these views, the President recommended to
Congress the passage of an embargo act. This law passed in Decem-
ber, 1807. By it ail American vessels abroad were called home,
and those in the United States prohibited from leaving port. In con-
sequence of this measure, the commerce of the country was annihi-
lated in an hour ; and harbors, once flourishing, became soon only
receptacles for rotting ships. There can be no question now that the
embargo was a fatal blunder. It crippled our resources for the war
that ensued ; made the eastern states bitterly hostile to Jefferson's, as
well as to his successor's administration ; and tended to foster in the
minds of the populace at large, an idea that we shrank from a con-
test with Great Britain in consequence of inherent weakness.
But there was a fourth and last source of exasperation against
England, which assisted, more than all the rest, to produce the war
of 1812. We allude to the British claim of the right of impressment.
In the terrible struggles in which England found herself engaged
with France, her maritime force was her chief dependence, and
accordingly she increased the number of her ships unprecedent-
edly. But it soon became difficult to man all these vessels. The
thriving commerce pursued by the United States, as early as 1793,
drew large numbers of English seamen into our mercantile marine,
where they obtained higher wages than in the navy at home. Great
Britain saw this, and resolved to apply a remedy. By the fiction of
her law, a man born an English subject can never throw off his al-
legiance. She determined accordingly to seize her seamen wherever
found, and force them to serve their native flag. In consequence her
cruizers stopped every American vessel they met, and searched the
crew in order to reclaim the English, Scotch, or Irish on board. Fre-
quently it happened that persons born in America were taken as
British subjects ; for where the boarding officer was the judge of a
man's nationality, there was little chance of justice, especially if the
seaman was a promising one, or the officer's ship was short-handed.
In nine months, during parts of the years 1796 and 1797, the Ame.
rican minister at the court of London had made application for the
discharge of two hundred and seventy-one native born Americans,
proved to haye been v Jius impressed. These outrages against personal
24 ORIGIN OF THE WAR.
independence were regarded among the people of America with the
utmost indignation. There was something in such injuries to exas-
perate every sentiment of the soul. That an innocent man, peaca-
bly pursuing an honorable vocation, should be forcibly carried on
board a British man-of-war, and there compelled to remain, shut out
from all hope of ever seeing his family, seemed, to the robust sense
of justice in the popular breast, little better than Algerine bondage.
The rage of the people was increased by tales of horror and aggres-
sion that occasionally reached their ears from these prison ships.
Stories were told of men who had escaped, and being captured and
taken back, were whipped until they died. In one instance, it waa
said that a sailor, goaded to madness, had seized the captain, and
springing overboard, been drowned with his oppressor. Whether
true or not, this and other narratives as horrible, were freely dissem-
inated, and tended, at last, to raise the popular feeling to a pitch of
inconceivable exasperation.
Every attempt to arrange this difficulty with England had signal-
ly failed. The United States offered that all American seamen should
be registered and provided with a certificate of citizenship ; that the
number of a crew should be limited by the tonnage of the ship, and
that if this number was exceeded, British subjects enlisted should be
liable to impressment ; that deserters should be given up ; and that
a prohibition should be issued by each party against clandestinely
secreting and carrying off the seamen of the other. In 1800, and
again in 1806, it was attempted to form treaties in reference to this
subject ; but the pertinacity with which England adhered to her
claim frustrated these efforts. In 1S03 the difficulty had nearly been
adjusted by a convention, for Great Britain offered to abandon her
claim to impressment on the high seas, if allowed to retain it on the
narrow seas, or those immediately surrounding her island. But, this
being rejected as inadmissible by the United States, all subsequent
efforts at an arrangement proved abortive. The impressment of
seamen continued, and was the source of daily increasing abuse.
Not only Americans, but Danes, Swedes, Germans, Russians, French-
men, Spaniards and Portuguese were seized and forcibly carried off
by British men-of-war. There are even well attested instances of
Asiatics and Africans being thus impressed. In short, as the war in
Europe approached its climax, seamen became more scarce in the
British navy, and all decency being thrown off, crews were filled up
under color of this claim, regardless even of the shew of justice. In
1811, it was computed that the number of men impressed from the
American marine amounted to not less than six thousand.
ORIGIN OP THE WAR.
25
At last the arrogance of the British naval officers rose to such an
extreme, that one of our national vessels, the frigate Chesapeake,
was forcibly boarded and several men impressed from her decks.
The circumstances were these. In the spring of 1807. the British
Consul at Norfolk sent to Captain Decatur, requiring him to surren-
der three seamen who had deserted from the English ship Melam-
pus, and enlisted in the navy of the United States. The demand was
refused, the men being found, on enquiry, to be citizens of the Uni-
ted States. Subsequently, the American frigate Chesapeake sailed
with these men on board, but was pursued by the British ship Leo-
pard, fired into, and when she hauled down her flag, boarded, and
the three men, together with another, taken from her deck. The
Chesapeake was in no condition to resist, having gone to sea with-
out suitable preparation, and the only gun discharged from her was
fired by a coal brought from the galley. Before she struck, three of
her men were killed and eighteen wounded. The news of this out-
THB CHESA.FEAKK AITD LEOPAKD.
rage excited universal resentment in the United States. The Presi
dent issued a proclamation forbidding all communication with Bri
ish armed vessels, unless in distress, or bearing despatches ; and in
terdicting Britjch vessels from the harbors and waters of the United
in
26 ORIGIN OF THE WAR.
States. One hundred thousand men were ordered to hold themselves
in readiness for war, and a special session of Congress was called to
meet on the 26th of October. Meantime, however, the outrage was
disavowed by the British government, and here the difficulty was
allowed to rest. But it was subsequently noticed that the offenders,
instead of being censured in England, were treated with undiminish-
ed favor by their government ; and this, sinking deep into the po-
pular mind in America, created general exasperation, and increased
the prevailing distrust in Great Britain. Already the people were
prepared for war ; it was only the government that held back.
There was no period, from 1807 to 1812, when a declaration of war
would not have been received with favor by the community at
large ; and there were moments during that interval, when such a
declaration would, perhaps, have been more generally popular than
it was in 1812. This is especially true of the period between the
outrage on the Chesapeake and the passage of the embargo act.
Having thus traced the growth of that popular sentiment which
rendered war, sooner or later inevitable, let us proceed to enquire
into the manner in which it was at last brought about. For there
is a wide distinction between the real and ostensible causes of a war,
it being a rare thing for national contests to be undertaken without
deeper reasons than are apparent on the surface. Thus, the peace
of Amiens was broken, for the pretext that the British refused to
evacuate Malta ; the war was, in truth, renewed because Napoleon
and England were filled with mutual distrust. So, the usual
reasons given for the war of 1812, are comparatively weak, far
weaker than those which could have been urged in favor of a war
in 1807. The real secret was, that the people wanted a war, and
would not longer be denied. In 1815, when the popular indignation
had vented itself, peace was as welcome as war had been three years
before. It has been thought strange that the treaty of Ghent over-
looked some of the points, to obtain which the war was expressly
undertaken ; but this view of the case explains the mystery. The
practical result of the contest had been to teach England respect for
the United States ; to break the charm of her naval invincibility ;
and virtually to protect our seamen, in future, from impressment. The
popular will was satisfied by the victories of Hull, Decatur and Stew-
art, at sea ; and by those of Chippewa, the Thames and New Orleans,
on land. The people looked less at the treaty, than at these triumphs.
Meantime, we return to the thread of events. In December, 1807,
as already stated, the embargo act was passed. But the pressure of
this law was found to be so severe on all classes of the community,
that, in March, 1809, it was repealed, and a non-importation act as
ORIGIN OP THE WAR. 2"
to England and France, substituted. By this new law, all voyages to
the French arid British dominions were prohibited, and all trade in
articles of British and French product or manufacture : and power
was vested in the President, in case either or both of the belligerants
should revoke their edicts, so as no longer to violate the neutral com-
merce of the United States, to issue a proclamation repealing the pro-
visions of the new importation act as to one, or both. In conse-
quence of this, France on the 1st of November, 1810, exempted the
United States from the operation of the Berlin and Milan decrees.
England, however, still refused to repeal her orders in council, alle-
ging that France must first revoke her edicts absolutely. To this the
American government replied that it had no right to dictate to Na-
poleon what his conduct to other nations should be, and that, since
he had offered justice to the United States, there was no further cause
of complaint against him on her part. The 3rd of March, 1811, had
been fixed as the limit of time, at which the beliigerants were to re-
voke their aggressive laws, or take the chances of a war ; but anxious
to preserve peace, Mr. Madison procured the passage of an act, by
which Great Britain was allowed a further period of delay. This
last act of conciliation proved as useless as preceding ones, and the
American government began finally to despair. Had its patience,
however, continued for a few months longer, the war might have
been averted, at least for a time. But an incident occurred at this
crisis, which, by giving a new impetus to the popular rage, hurried
the cabinet into hostilities, at the very moment when England was
about to relax her orders. We allude to the discovery of an intrigue
for the separation of the New England States from the Union, car-
ried on by an Englishman, named John Henry, professing to be
a secret agent of Great Britain.
This individual had been employed in 1809, by Sir James Craig,
Governor-General of Canada. He had visited Boston, where he
moved in the best circles, and was known for his quiet and gentle-
manly, but reserved demeanor. In February, 1812, he communi-
cated to the President of the United States the nature of his mission,
in consideration of receiving for the disclosure, the sum of fifty
thousand dollars, from the secret service fund. The money was
paid, the papers received by Mr. Madison, and then Henry, before
the documents were published, sailed for Europe. His papers
proved that the Governor-General of Canada, misled by the opposi-
tion of a portion of the New England States to the measures of the
general government, had conceived that a dissolution of the Union
was at hand f'and had sent Henry to Boston to aspertain how far, in
such an event, England would be looked to for aid, and to what ex-
*8 ORIGIN OF THE WAR.
tent the withdrawing states would enter into connexion with her
This idea of a dissolution, regarded as so visionary in the United
States, had, as we have seen, long been a favorite one in England,
Henry soon found, however, that a separation from the Union was
not the intention of New England. On his return to Canada, Sir
James Craig refused to remunerate him. Henry accordingly be-
trayed his employers, and sold his information to Mr. Madison. It
has been urged that his conduct destroyed the validity of his testi-
mony ; and there is some force in the argument ; but, on the whole, there
appears no good reason to doubt the fact of his mission, or its purport.
The nation, on learning this intrigue, became doubly exasperated
against England ; and loudly demanded war. The great commer-
cial cities, the Middle States, and the West, were foremost in this
burst of mingled enthusiasm, passion and patriotism. The New
England States, however, resisted the torrent. But the majority
of the people were no longer to be denied the revenge for which
they had so long thirsted. Beyond the Alleghanies the sentiment in
favor of the war was universal. This was, in part, the result of the
threatening aspect of the Indians, who were believed to have been
secretly instigated to hostility by the British. While the public feel-
ing was in this excited condition, despatches were received from
Europe, announcing the continued refusal of England to revoke her
edicts. The President immediately acquainted Congress with this
fact, and that body, after an animated debate, declared war against
the united kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland. The bill, declar-
ing war, passed the House of Representatives, on the 4th of June,
1812, by a majority of thirty in one hundred and twenty-eight votes.
In the Senate nineteen voted for it, and thirteen against it. On the
18th of June, it was signed by the President ; and on the 19th pub-
licly proclaimed. Four days later, the British ministry withdrew
conditionally their objectionable orders in council, of January, 1807,
and April, 1809. But, when the news of this event reached America,
hostilities had already begun. The peace offering had come too late.
The army with which Congress proposed to begin this war,
amounted, on paper, to thirty-five thousand men : but as twenty-five
thousand of this number had been authorized only in January, the
real force enrolled was probably less than fifteen thousand. The
services of fifty thousand volunteers, in addition, however, were or-
dered to be accepted ; and the President was empowered to call on
the States for militia to the number of one hundred thousand, if
necessary. In all these preparations the force was more apparent than
real : and sagacious minds foresaw that, until a large disciplined
army was in the field, defeat would probably be our portion !
BA.TTLB OF TIPPECANOB.
BOOK II.
TO THE SPRING OT THE TEAR 1814.
HE war of 1812 was preceded
by an ominous demonstration on
the north-western frontier. Se-
cretly instigated by the English,
the savages, as early as 1811,
conceived the idea of forming an exten-
sive league to crush the power of the United
States. The existence of some such hostile
movement became suspected by the admin-
istration, in consequence of the murders and
other outrages perpetrated by the Indians ; and accordingly General
William Henry Harrison, at that time Governor of the territory of
Indiana, was ordered, at the head of a competent force of regulars
and militia, to enter the hostile country and obtain redress for these
injuries. Harrjson arrived at the chief town of the enemy, on the
in* 29
30 BATTLE OF TIPPECANOE.
6th November, 1811. Tecumseh, the leader in the conspiracy, was
absent, but his brother, the Prophet, who was possessed of equal, if
not superior influence, sent messengers to meet the American Gene-
ral, and promise that, on the ensuing morning, an amicable adjust-
ment of all difficulties should be made. Harrison, in consequence,
encamped peaceably for the night ; but aware of the treachery of the
Indian character, chose the strongest position afforded by the neigh-
borhood, and ordered his men to rest upon their arms. These pre-
cautions alone saved him from massacre ; for in the night the sav-
ages assailed him. The contest was long and bloody. But finally,
discipline triumphed, and the Indians were repulsed. The loss on
both sides was severe. The Americans suffered, in killed and
wounded, one hundred and eighty-eight ; the enemy one hundred
and fifty. On the 9th of November, Harrison burned the village,
and devastated the surrounding country, after which he returned
home. This battle is known as that of Tippecanoe, from the name
of the Prophet's town. It produced such a wholesome fear of the
American arms that the Indians in the vicinity generally sued for
peace.
In order to follow up this blow if necessary, the government raised
an army and placed it under the command of General William Hull,
Governor of Michigan territory. The probability of a war was also
considered in enlisting this force, for in case of such an event, the
presence of an army in the north-west, would give the United States
the opportunity of striking the first blow. Accordingly, in the month
of April, 1812, the Governor of Ohio was ordered by the President,
to call out twelve hundred men. The success at Tippecanoe, and
the general enthusiasm for a war promptly filled the requisition.
This temporary force assembled at Dayton, Ohio, on the 25th of
April, 1812. Uniting with the fourth United States infantry, and por-
tions of other regular regiments, the whole marched upon Detroit.
The little army was compelled to traverse a dense wilderness for
nearly two hundred miles, and consequently did not reach its desti-
nation until the 5th of July. Meantime, war had been declared.
But by some unaccountable mistake in the department at Washing-
ton, the intelligence was allowed to reach the British posts in the
north-west, before it was transmitted to the American commander.
This oversight led to the capture of a portion of Hull's baggage,
which he had sent by water to Detroit, without a sufficient guard.
On the 12th of July the army crossed into the British territory, dis-
cretionary powers having been vested in Hull to invade Canada in
the event of a war. A vaunting proclamation was issued, addressed
THE FALL OP MACKINAW. 31
to the inhabitants, many of whom, in consequence, joined the inva-
ders. Parties were now sent out into the country, which was found
to be fertile and well cultivated. A detachment, under Colonels Cass
and Miller, marched towards Maiden, a British post, situated at the
confluence of the Detroit river and lake Erie, about thirteen miles
from Sandwich, where Hull was encamped. The enemy was met
at a bridge over the Canard river and driven in confusion back on
Maiden. Had Cass and Miller been supported, the fortress must
have fallen, for it was in no condition to resist a vigorous assault ;
but Hull refused to sustain his subordinates, and the reconnoitering
party was withdrawn to the camp.
In fact Hull, from indecision of character, was unfitfor his command.
After he had made his first vigorous effort, and once entered Canada,
he sunk into idleness. The intelligence of the fall of Mackinaw, which
was surprised by the er ^my on the 17th of July, filled him with vague
apprehensions, which were increased when he came to reflect on the
distance that his supplies had to be brought from Ohio, and the dif-
ficulty of transportation. A detachment of hostile Indians, in a few
days, crossing the Detroit, cut off the communications ; and a small
force sent out to open the route, was surprised and defeated by the
savages. This event increased the alarm of Hull. Stimulated by
his younger officers, he had at last begun his preparations for an ad-
vance ; but now, abandoning all present thought of reducing Mai-
den, he retreated across the river, and established himself at Detroit.
This WLS on the Sth of August. On the same day a detachment, six
hundred strong, commanded by Colonel Miller, was sent to open the
communications. This force met and conquered a combined body
of British and Indians, with a loss to the Americans of seventy, that
of the enemy being probably a hundred. A severe storm of rain and
the care of the wounded compelled Colonel Miller, however, to re-
turn subsequently to Detroit. A third attempt to open the commu-
nications was made on the 14th of August, by a body of three hun-
dred picked men, under the command of Colonels Cass and M'Ar-
thur ; but this effort proving as unsuccessful as the former ones, the
detachment returned to camp, two days later, where it found, to the
inconceivable chagrin of its officers and men, that Hull had surren-
dered, and that it was included in the capitulation.
On the day that Cass and M' Arthur had left Detroit, the British,
who had advanced as Hull retreated, began to erect batteries on the
shore at Sandwich, opposite the American camp. General BrocK,
who commanded the enemy's forces, was as remarkable for energy as
Hull for inefficiency. He had gained a thorough insight, moreover,
32 SURRENDER OF DETROIT.
into the character of his adversary, and knew the American leader
to be possessed with a secret fear of the British invincibility. Ac-
cordingly, on the 15th of of August, Brock summoned Hull to sur-
render, intimating that, in the event of a refusal, he should assault
Detroit, when he would not be answerable for the conduct of the In-
dians. Hull at first rejected the proposal of a capitulation with
scorn. Brock proceeded, in consequence, to open his batteries. The
bombardment was continued until towards midnight, and resumed
on the following'morning, when the British, with their savage allies,
were seen advancing to the assault, having crossed during the night.
At this spectacle, Hull's resolution deserted him. He ordered a
white flag to be displayed, and a parley ensuing, terms of capitula-
tion were speedily arranged. By this disgraceful compact, Fort De-
troit, with its garrison and all the public stores and arms were sur-
rendered. Even the detachment of M' Arthur and Cass was included
in the arrangement. The volunteers and militia were allowed to re-
turn home, on condition of not serving again until exchanged. Thir-
ty-three pieces of artillery were surrendered on this occasion ; among
them, several brass pieces captured from Burgoyne in the war of In-
dependence. Twenty-five hundred muskets and rifles likewise fell
into the hands of the enemy. This capitulation was received with
rage when announced to the troops. The consternation and anger
which it awakened in the United States was unparalleled. Hull was
everywhere accused of cowardice, and, in some quarters, even of
treason. On his exchange, he was tried by a court-martial, found
guilty of cowardice and conduct unbecoming an officer, and sentenced
to be shot. But in consequence of his age, and his services in the
Revolution, he was recommended to the mercy of the President, who,
remitting the capital punishment, contented himself with striking the
offender's name from the army roll.
The weakness of Hull had been penetrated by his officers long be-
fore the surrender, and letters were, in consequence, despatched to
Governor Meigs, of Ohio, informing him of the suspicions of the wri-
ters, and soliciting reinforcements to open the communications. A
force of volunteers was promptly called out. In a few days the in-
telligence of the loss of Detroit arrived. The departure of the troop ,s
was now hastened, and Harrison, created for the purpose a Major-
General of the Kentucky militia, was entrusted with the command.
His troops marched from Cincinnati, on the 29th of August, their
first destination being the relief of the frontier posts. The numbers
of his army were about twenty-five hundred. Halting at Piqua, he
proceeded to Fort Wayne, the siege of which by the Indians was
BURNING OF THE INDIAN VILLAGES. 33
raised on his approach. He already, however, began to feel the
want of supplies, which, having to be transported from the settled
country and Cincinnati, arrived in small quantities and after great
delays. Hence, he found it impossible to march at once on Detroit,
as had been originally intended. He contented himself, therefore,
with sending out two expeditions, one against the Miami towns on
the Wabash, the other against the Potawatamie villages on the river
St. Joseph. Both incursions were successful. Nine villages were
burned, and all the standing corn destroyed ; a rigorous, but neces-
sary measure, since, without it, the hostile Indians could not have
been driven from a neighborhood so dangerous to the American
army.
Towards the close of September, General Winchester, a Brigadier
in the army of the United States, arrived at Fort Wayne with rein-
forcements, and superseded Harrison. The latter was on his return
to his government in Indiana, when he was overtaken by an express
from Washington, assigning to him the chief command of the army.
On the 23d of September he reached Fort Wayne again, but found
that Winchester had marched to Fort Defiance, the preceding day,
with two thousand men. The progress of Winchester was slow, for
his route lay through swamps, or impenetrable thickets; while he was
compelled to move with great caution, clouds of hostile Indians hang-
ing on his front. In fact, a detachment of four hundred British re-
gulars, attended by artillery, arid accompanied by more than a thou-
sand savages had been advancing to attack Fort Wayne, when,
learning Winchester's approach, it thought it most prudent to fall
back towards the Miami. The Americans soon began to feel the
want of provisions ; for a supply despatched down the river Au
Glaize by Harrison, could not reach Fort Defiance in consequence of
the vicinity of the enemy. At last the sufferings of his army became
so extreme that Winchester sent back an escort, who succeeded in
bringing up supplies on pack horses. On the 30th of September,
his troops reached Fort Defiance, which the enemy abandoned on
his approach.
Three days afterwards, Harrison arrived; but remained only
twenty-four hours, returning to bring up the residue of his troops.
He now proceeded to arrange them according to the following dispo-
sition. General Tupper, with a regiment of regulars, and the Ohio
volunteers and militia, was placed at Fort M'Arthur. This force
constituted the centre of the army. The left wing was left at Fort
Defiance, under Winchester. The right wing, composed of two bri-
gades of militia, one from Pennsylvania, and one from Virginia, was
S 5
34 DEFENCE OP FORT HARRISON.
stationed at Sandusky. The army had left Cincinnati, fully expect
ing to strike a decisive blow before winter, but this the want of sup
plies had prevented. With the exception of an incursion of five
days, undertaken by General Tupper against the Rapids of the Mi-
ami, and which proved eminently successful, no further movement
was made during the fall. Tupper, after defeating the savages and
British, returned to Fort M'Arthur ; and thus ended what is called
Harrison's first autumnal campaign.
Meantime, while these events had been transacting on Lake Erie,
the war had not languished in Indiana and Illinois. The policy of
England was to let her battles be fought by the savages, whom she
had accordingly supplied with arms, and instigated to take up the
hatchet. Hence the necessity, during the first two campaigns, of so
many expeditions against the Indians. A body of Kentucky volun-
teers, under General Hookins, and a detachment of rangers, under
Colonel Russell, had been despatched to chastise the tribes in these
two territories by destroying their towns. Their first destination,
however, was the relief of Fort Harrison, a post at that time invest-
ed by the savages. The commander of this place was General Tay-
lor, then a young officer, holding the rank of Captain ; but his con-
duct, in the emergency, evinced all those heroic traits which have
since shone forth, on a grander scale, at Palo Alto, Monterey and
Buena Vista. Expecting an attack, he held himself hourly in readi-
ness. On the night of the 4th of September the anticipated assault
took place. The Indians succeeded in firing a block-house contigu-
ous to the barracks ; and it was with great difficulty the latter were
preserved from the flames. Sending a detachment to the roof of the
barracks to tear off the portion adjoining the block-house, while a
galling fire was maintained on the Indians from other parts of the
fort, the gallant young officer finally succeeded in preventing the
spreading of the flames. The block-house, however, was consumed,
arid thus a gap, six or eight feet wide, opened into the fort. But this
interval was speedily barricaded, and the savages repulsed in an at-
tempt to enter. When the attack had continued seven hours, and
day had broken, the Indians retired. The Americans lost but three
killed and three wounded. During this contest, there were only fif-
teen effective men in the garrison, the rest being sick or convales-
cent. In a few days the place was relieved by the approach of Ge-
neral Hopkins at the head of four thousand men.
Preparations were now begun to fulfil the second object of the ex-
pedition, an attack on the Peoria villages. But, after a march of
four days in the direction of the enemy, the spirit of insubordination
MASSACRE OF THE RIVER RAISIN. 35
among the volunteers grew to such a pitch that the General thought
it advisable not to proceed. He offered, however, to pursue the en-
terprise if five hundred persons could be found to attend him. But
the volunteers, either from the exhausted state of their horses, their
own fears, or their want of confidence in Hopkins, decided almost
unanimously to return. Accordingly the authority of the General
was set aside, and the army began to retrace its steps. Meantime,
however, Colonel Russel had marched by a different route against
the savages and defeated them. Having burned their towns and
destroyed their corn, he returned to the settlements. Another de-
tachment, led by Captain Craig,penetrated twenty miles further than
even Russel. In November, Hopkins, at the head of twelve hun-
dred and fifty men, undertook a more successful enterprise against
the .villages on the Wabash. Colonel Campbell, in December, led a
similar expedition, and with like success, against the towns on the
Mississinewa river.
Harrison having failed in his autumnal campaign, determined to
resume operations in the winter. Accordingly he directed the three
divisions of his army to rendezvous at the rapids of the Miami ; there
collect provisions ; and making a feint on Detroit, cross the strait on
the ice and invest Maiden. General Winchester was the first to ar-
rive at the rendezvous, which he did after incredible privations on
the part of his men. But he had scarcely reached the rapids, when,
yielding to the entreaties of the citizens of Frenchtown for protection,
he detached Colonel Lewis with seven hundred and fifty men to
their relief. Lewis met and defeated a body of British and their
savage allies. The news of this success transported those who had
been left behind ; all were anxious to press forward and secure a
portion of the glory ; and accordingly, Winchester, with the remain-
der, pushing on to Frenchtown, arrived and took post at that place
on the 20th of January, 1813. The fatal error of thus placing him-
self beyond sustaining distance from the main army, was exemplified
the next day, when Proctor, at the head of fifteen hundred British
and savages, attacked and defeated the Americans. Winchester
was taken prisoner early in the action. A portion of his troops held
out for some time longer, but finally capitulated.
Now ensued a tragedy the remembrance of which will never be
effaced from the popular mind. The uninjured Americans were im-
mediately marched towards Maiden by their captors. The wounded,
however, were left on the field, but with the understanding that they
should be sent for the next day. But the following morning the In
dians broke in on these helpless men, and after murdering them, set
36 BATTLE OP QT7EENSTOWN.
fire to the houses where they lay. This atrocious act which the Bri
tish might easily have prevented, has been justly called the massacre o
the River Raisin. Harrison, who had arrived at the rapids, hearing
of the capture of Winchester, deemed it advisable to retreat. He
accordingly fell back to Carrying River, about midway between the
Miami and Sandusky. The next month, however, finding that Proc-
tor made no attempt at pursuit, he advanced again to the rapids, where
he began the construction of Fort Meigs, destined to be subsequently
celebrated for its two sieges. Thus ended what is called Harrison's
winter campaign. It was quite as unfortunate as his autumnal one,
and did little or nothing towards obliterating the disgrace of Hull's
surrender.
While these events had been transacting on the north-west frontier,
others of scarcely less importance had been occurring on Lake Onta-
rio. Here the population was comparatively dense. The govern-
ment accordingly looked to this point as one where a decisive blow
could be struck against the enemy. It was evidently to the advan-
tage of the United States that the war should be waged on the soil
of Canada, and hence the resolution was early taken to invade that
territory. The American forces, guarding the northern frontier, were
stationed at Plattsburgh, Buffalo, Sackett's Harbor, Black Rock, and
Ogdensburg, the whole under the supreme command of Major-Gen-
eral Dearborn. In addition to the regular army, however, thus dis-
posed, the militia of New York, thirty-five hundred in number, were
in the field, commanded by Major-General Van Rensselaer. These
were posted at Lewistown. General Dearborn was ordered early in
the season to assail the British, if for no other purpose than to pre-
vent their sending succor to Maiden. The summer, however, passed
in inactivity, Dearborn having, notwithstanding the orders from
Washington, concluded an armistice with the Governor-General of
Canada, based on a mutual belief that peace was at hand, in conse-
quence of the repeal of the English orders in council. General Van
Rensselaer, however, was disposed to be more active. A detach-
ment of Americans having, on the 21st of September, captured a
small village on the Canadian side, the enemy endeavored to reta-
liate by an unsuccessful expedition against Ogdensburg. General
Van Rensselaer, on this resolved to attack Queenstown. The enter-
prise was undertaken on the 13th of October, and but for the cow-
ardice of the militia would have resulted in a brilliant victory. It
was on this occasion that General, then Colonel Scott, first distin
guished himself.
The plan of the attack was as follows : a corps of six hundred
BATTLE OP QT7EENSTOWN.
37
infantry, half of which were militia and half regulars, was, undef
cover of night, to cross the Niagara and carry the batteries by assault.
The boats collected to transport the men proved insufficient, how-
ever, and only a portion of the force was carried over to the British
shore in time. One detachment, attempting to cross, was forced by
the current under the guns of the enemy, and most of it captured.
Meantime, however, Colonel Van Rensselaer, who led the pioneers,
gallantly advanced on the foe with what forces he had ; but being
BATTLE OF QUEKNSTOWN.
soon wounded, was forced to leave the field. The Americans dash-
ed forward, nevertheless, and seized a Height called the Mountain,
whither they dragged an eighteen pounder and two mortars. The Bri-
tish now fled to Queenstown. Here the fugitives were met and ral-
lied by General Brock, who led them back to dispossess the Ameri-
cans of the height. But Brock being mortally wounded, the British
again fled. Some accessions of force, chiefly militia, under General
Wadsworth, finally made their appearance.
At this crisis Colonel Scott reached the field of battle and took
command of the United States troops, now reduced to about two
hundred^and fifty. Expecting to be reinforced from Lewistown, he
tv
3S THE CONSTITUTION AND THE GUERRIERE.
drew up his men close to the ferry, in order to cover that important
point. Here he manfully" stood his ground, twice repulsing the Bri-
tish and their Indian allies. At last, Major-General Sheaffe, at the
head of the neighboring garrison of Fort George, which had been
aroused by the firing, arrived at the scene of contest. His forces
numbered eight hundred and fifty. All hope of succor from the
American side had meantime departed, for the militia, beholding
the numbers of the British, were seized with alarm and refused to cross.
Retreat was impossible, the boats all being on the American side.
In consequence, after some desperate efforts at resistance, which
proved unavailing, Scott was compelled to capitulate. The Ameri-
cans suffered in killed, wounded and prisoners, one thousand men, a
half of whom were regulars. The British loss is not known, though
it was considerable. General Van Rensselaer, in consequence of
this failure, shortly after resigned. In the death of Brock, the ene-
my experienced a blow for which even victory could afford no com-
pensation. Brock enjoyed one of the best reputations in the English
army, and had been Wellington's competitor, a few years before, for
the command in the peninsula. A sentiment of chivalrous respect in-
duced the Americans to fire minute-guns from Fort Niagara during
the funeral ceremonies of this hero. What more delightful than to
record acts of courtesy like this, amid the forbidding incidents of a
sanguinary war !
Other attempts were subsequently made to invade Canada by Ge-
neral Smyth, the successor of Van Rensselaer. But the want of boats
led to the failure of these projected expeditions. , General Dearborn,
whose head-quarters were at Greenbush, was not more successful ;
and, though in command of a respectable force of regulars, suffered
the autumn to pass in inactivity. In short, so complete had been the
failure of our arms on land in this campaign, that but for the bril-
liant success that attended us at sea, the spirit of the people would,
perhaps, have given way. But, in the darkest hour of disaster, when
the surrender of Detroit buried the nation in gloom, the victory of
the Constitution over the Guerriere, suddenly blazed across the fir-
mament, and inspired hope and exultation in every bosom.
On the declaration of war, the prowess of England at sea was re-
garded as so invincible, that the administration hesitated whether to
send the national vessels from port. The American navy, in 1 8 1 2, con-
sisted of ten frigates, of which five were laid up in ordinary ; ten
sloops and smaller vessels ; and one hundred and sixty-five useless
gun boats. The representations of a few officers, however, who
were confident of success, induced the President to allow a portion oi
THE CONSTITUTION AND THE GTJERRIERE.
39
this little navy to sail. One of the first of our frigates to leave port was
the Constitution. This vessel, commanded by Captain Isaac Hull, put
to sea from Annapolis, on the 12th of July, 1812, bound to New
York. On her voyage, however, she fell in with a British fleet, from
which she only escaped by incredible exertions of seamanship
and skill. Being chased from her route, she went into Boston har-
bor. By this accident Hull was prevented receiving an order that had
been despatched to New York, directing him to give up the command
of his ship. In a few days he sailed on a new cruise. On the 19th
of August he met the Guerriere, Captain Dacres, an English frigate
of slightly inferior force, and, after a sharp conflict of half an hour,
compelled her to surrender. The loss of the Americans in this action
was seven killed and seven wounded ; that of the British fifteen
killed, sixty -two wounded, and twenty-four missing. The Guerriere
was injured so materially that it was found impossible to carry her
into port, and accordingly she was burned. This victory is attribu-
ted in part to the heavier metal of the Constitution, but chiefly to the
superior gunnery of her crew. Its effect on the public mind was
electric. The triumph was regarded almost as a miracle. In the
general exultation, the surrender of Detroit was almost forgotten j
CONSTITUTION AND THE GUERPJERE.
and the spirits of the people were rallied, when otherwise they migh
nave sunk into despair.
The insane confidence of the British in their naval superiority had
been exhibited a few days before, when Captain Porter, in the Ame-
40 AMERICAN NAVAL VICTORIES
rican frigate Essex had been attacked by the British sloop of war
Alert, a vessel of very inferior force. For her temerity, however,
the Alert, in eight minutes had suffered so much from the fire of her
enemy as to have seven feet of water in her hold. She surrendered
of necessity, and was sent into New York. Other victories followed
in rapid succession. On the 8th of October, the British sloop Fro-
THE CA.PTTES OF THE FROLIC BY THB WASP.
lie, of twenty -two guns, was captured by the American sloop Wasp,
Captain Jones, of eighteen guns. Seven days afterwards the frigate
llnited States, Captain Decatur, being off the Western Islands, met
the British frigate Macedonian, Captain Garden, and forced her to sur-
render. The loss of the Macedonian was thirty-six killed and sixty-
eight wounded ; that of the United States only four killed and seven
wounded. Decatur carried the Macedonian into New York. On
the 29th of December, the Constitution, now commanded by Captain
Bainbridge, fell in with, and captured the British :igate Java, Cap*
tain Lambert, off the coast of Brazil ; the Java losing sixty killed
and more than one hundred wounded, while the less on board the
Constitution was but nine killed and twenty-five wounded. These
series of successes had been attended with but few reverses. Only
three national vessels had been lost, the Wasp, Vixen and Nautilus,
CAPTURE OF YORKTOWN. 41
of which the first, a sloop of war, was the largest. All of these ships,
moreover, had surrendered to vastly superior forces. In addition to
the victories of the regular marine, almost daily triumphs were
achieved by the American privateers. It was computed, when Con-
gress met in November, that two hundred and fifty British vessels
had already fallen a prey to private cruizers.
These successes determined the government to decline the offer
of an armistice, tendered by Great Britain, unless that power would
abandon her claim to impressment. The English Cabinet, however,
refused to yield this point, and preparations were in consequence
made to open the year 1813 with renewed activity. Twenty addi-
tional regiments of infantry were ordered to be raised, and ten regi-
ments of rangers ; while the greatest inducements were held out to
enlist. It was resolved also to increase the navy. In a word, though
our armies on land had met with almost universal defeat in 1812, it
was hoped that in 1813 they would be attended by a better fortune :
and accordingly, a new plan for the invasion of Canada was pro-
jected, under the especial direction of General Armstrong, the succes-
sor of Dr. Eustis, as Secretary at War.
The army on Lake Ontario was still commanded by General Dear-
born. The plan of General Armstrong, as communicated to this
General early in 1813, was to attack the British posts of Kingston,
York, and Fort George, in succession the reduction of the first
being considered the most important, and therefore to be under-
taken as a preliminary. General Dearborn, however, after consult-
ing Commodore Chauncey, who commanded the fleet on Lake On-
tario, resolved to begin with York. Accordingly, on the 27th of
April, the fleet arrived off that place, and the troops being landed,
the town was captured. Owing however to the explosion of the
British fort, General Pike, who led the Americans, was killed, while
two hundred of his men were either killed or wounded. General
Dearborn having remained on board the fleet, and the officer who now
succeeded to the command, being without orders, most of the
fruits of the expedition were lost. The army next proceeded,
though not until after various delays, to attack Fort George. On the
27th of May that place was assailed, and captured, after a spir-
ited resistance. A series of operations in the open field now ensued,
which were attended generally with disgrace and failure to the
Americans ; and, in the end, General Dearborn recalled all his troops
to the fort, which the British proceeded to invest.
While this imbecile campaign was dragging along, a General
born of the people blazed suddenly into notoriety. The circumstance
iv*S 6
42 CAPTURE OF YORKTOWN.
was this: On the 27th of May, an attack being made on the
American post at Sackett's Harbor, General Brown, a militia officer
of that neighborhood, placing himself at the head of the garrison,
defeated the assailants. The gallantry and decision of Brown in this
action, appeared the more conspicuous in contrast with the taidiness
and want of ability displayed by Dearborn. The latter General was
old, weak, and in bad health, and thus unfit, on many accounts, for
his post. At last the public indignation rose to such a height, that
he was recalled, and General Wilkinson appointed in his place.
It is time now to return to the north-western frontier, where we
left Harrison engaged in the construction of Fort Meigs. The cam-
paign of 1813 was opened in this quarter, by the advance of Proctor
against that post, in the latter part of April, at the head of two
thousand British and Indians. Harrison being in hourly expectation
of succor from Ohio, gallantly defended the place until the fifth of
May, when General Clay arrived with the expected reinforcements.
An unsuccessful attempt was now made to raise the siege. A few days
later, Proctor finding the Indians dissatisfied, suddenly abandoned
the enterprise, and embarking his artillery, retired towards Maiden.
On the 20th of July another attempt was made on Fort Meigs, but
after eight days, the siege was again given up. The enemy then
sailed around to Sandusky Bay, in order to capture Fort Stephen-
son, a post affording an inviting opportunity for capture, since it
was garrisoned by only one hundred and fifty men. The comman-
der, however, Major Croghan, was a young man of spirit, resolu-
tion, and ambition. On the 1st of August, the British invested the
fort, and on the second, after a heavy cannonade, advanced to as-
sault it. But they were repulsed with such terrible loss, that they
precipitately raised the seige, leaving behind their wounded. This
gave Harrison an opportunity to contrast his humanity with that of
Proctor. By the orders of the American General, the wounded Bri.
tish soldiers were treated with the greatest kindness, an eloquent re-
buke to the conduct of Proctor at the Raisin, where his negligence,
if not his consent, led to the massacre of the Kentuckians. The
brilliant defence of Fort Sandusky, in conjunction with that of
Sackett's Harbor, assisted to rally the despondency of the nation,
and prophetic minds saw in them, forebodings of future victories,
which, in the succeeding year, were realized.
From the period of his winter campaign on the Raisin, Harrison
had urged upon government the necessity of a naval force on Lake
Erie. He asserted that half the money expended in transporting
supplies to the army as was necessary, for two hundred miles
BATTLE OP LAKE ERIE.
43
through the wilderness, would build and equip a fleet which would
give the United States the command of Lake Erie ; enable supplies
to be procured at comparatively small expense ; <md transport the
army, if required, in a few hours to Canada. These views, at last,
made an impression on the President, and two brigs, and several
schooners were ordered to be built on Lake Erie. This fleet, being
completed by the second of August, was entrusted to the command
of Lieutenant Oliver Perry, an ardent, brave, and skilful young offi-
cer. He immediately set sail in search of the enemy. He found the
British fleet lying in the harbor of Maiden ; but the enemy refusing
to come out and engage, Perry retired.- On the 10th of September,
the English squadron left its post, when the American commander
promptly made sail to give battle. A change of wind prevented the
enemy from declining the combat. The British fleet consisted of
six vessels, carrying sixty -three guns; the American, of nine vessels,
BATTL35 OW LAKE ERIX.
carrying fifty-four guns. The English, consequently, were rather
superior. The action was warmly contested, and once nearly won
by the enemy ; but the indomitable spirit of Perry was not to be
subdued ; he fought on, and victory finally declared for him. The
loss of the British was forty-one killed, and ninety-four wounded'
44 BATTLE OF THE THAMES.
that of the Americans, twenty-seven killed, and ninety-six wounded
By this victory, one of the most glorious in the annals of our coun
try, the enemy was disheartened, and his fleet, on which he had de
pendedfor supplies, destroyed. Every sagacious mind now saw that the
British would be forced, in time, to evacuate, not only the American
territory they occupied, but also a portion of Upper Canada.
Meantime, a series of disasters was attending our arms on the
St. Lawrence. General Dearborn, as we have seen, had been sus-
pended by General Wilkinson ; and General Armstrong, the Secretary
of War, had arrived in person, at the seat of operations, in order to
superintend the campaign. But the new General was even worse
than the last. If Dearborn was superannuated, Wilkinson was vain,
as well as old. On the 21st of October he began the descent of the
St. Lawrence, his intention being to attack Montreal, after forming
a junction with General Hampton, who was to advance from Lake
Champlain. The late period of the year however, bringing incle-
ment weather, delayed the progress of the troops. At last, after a
delay of two weeks, the army left Lake Ontario, and entered the
St. Lawrence. A few days subsequently, the indecisive battle of Wil-
liamsburgh was fought, and shortly after, on Hampton's declaring
his inability to reach the rendezvous, Wilkinson abandoned the en-
terprise. A bold leader would have advanced, nothwithstanding
his disappointment. Wilkinson's only excuse for his conduct, is that
he was enfeebled, both in mind and body, by sickness. The dis-
graceful termination of this expedition ultimately produced the resig-
nation of both Wilkinson and Armstrong. The disasters on the
northern frontier did not, however, cease with this failure. On the
10th of December, the Americans abandoned and blew up Fort
George, and in retiring, burnt the Canadian village of Newark. On
the 15th, the invaders were pursued to their own soil, Fort Niagara
captured by surprise, and the neighboring villages of Lewis-
town, Youngstown, and Manchester, consumed in retaliation for the
destruction of Newark. Subsequently, Black Rock and Buffalo
were also attacked by the British, and given to the flames. In the
north-west, however, our arms had been more successful. The vic-
tory of Perry having opened the road into Canada, Harrison, on tho
27th of September, 1813, embarked his troops, and landed the sama
day in the British territories. Proctor, who, since the defeat of the
English fleet, had acted like one stupified with fear, immediately
abandoned Maiden, and began a disgraceful flight. On the 5th of
October, Harrison overtook the retreating General, and the battle of
the Thames ensued, in which the combined British and Indian force
BRITISH ATROCITIES. 43
was defeated. Proctor was one of the first to fly. His savage ally,
Tecumseh, fought with more resolution, and stoutly disputed the
day, until he fell, covered with wounds. The loss in this battle was
comparatively slight. The Americans suffered, in killed and wound-
ed, only twenty -nine ; the British and savages, about sixty-four. By
this victory of the Thames, the whole territory surrendered by Gene-
raC Hull was recovered, while a large portion of Canada was wrested
from the British crown, and retained until the end of the war.
Nor was this all ; the power of the savages having been thus
broken, they were not able again to rally, and henceforth the British
had to conduct the war alone.
While success on the Canadian frontier had been fluctuating in
this manner between the Americans and British, though, on the
whole, inclining to the latter, the people of the Middle States were
kept in a state of continual alarm by predatory incursions from the
enemy's fleet. In December, 1812, the Atlantic coast, from the
Chesapeake to Rhode Island, had been declared in a state of
blockade. Immediately, the British ships on the seaboard, com-
menced a harassing warfare on the exposed settlements. An attack
made on Lewistown, near the mouth of the Delaware Bay, proved
indeed, unsuccessful ; but in the Chesapeake, the depredations of
the enemy, under Admiral Cockburn, spread terror on every hand.
Nothing was too petty for this marauder to assail. Farm-houses
were plundered ; country-seats burned ; and villages sacked, under
his personal superintendence. Frenchtown, Havre de Grace, Fre-
derickstown, and Georgetown, were laid in ashes. But at Norfolk,
the enemy met with a repulse. Irritated at this however, the Bri-
tish assailed Hampton, a town about eighteen miles distant, and
having succeeded in capturing it, committed there the most revolting
crimes. Subsequently, the shores of North Carolina were ravaged by
Cockburn. The burning of Newark formed the excuse for these
atrocities. Another circumstance in addition to these successful maraud-
ing expeditions, tended to depress the public confidence. The naval
successes of 1813 were less numerous, and with the exception of
Perry's victory, less brilliant than in 1812, though the year had
opened auspiciously. On the 23d of February, Captain Lawrence,
in the Hornet, a sloop of war, captured the British brig of war, Pen-
guin, Captain Peake. So shattered was the enemy's ship by the
fire of the Hornet, that she sunk before her crew could all be remov-
ed, carrying down with her nine Englishmen and three Americans
For this victory, Lawrence was promoted to the frigate Chesapeake,
then in the port of Boston. He had scarcely taken command of his
46
NAVAL BATTLES.
new ship, before Captain Brock, of the British frigate Shannon
cruizing off Boston harbor, sent in a challenge for the Chesapeake
to come out and fight the Shannon. Ardent, young, and confident,
Lawrence left his anchorage on the first of June, and proceeded to
meet the foe. In the battle that followed, the American frigate was
captured, with a loss of ninety-seven wounded, and seventy-eight
killed among the latter, the Captain. The British loss was twen-
ty-four killed, and fifty-six wounded ; Captain Brock being among
the latter. The success of the enemy was owing to his crew being
composed of picked men, while that of Lawrence was in a state
of almost open mutiny. This loss of the Chesapeake happening
almost in sight of Boston, affected the nation with a profound senti-
ment of despondency ; and there were even those who now began to
assert that our former naval victories had been accidents, and that
hereafter, England would defeat us on sea, as universally as she had
done on land.
However, other successes on the ocean soon brought the public
mind back to a more healthy tone. In August the Argus, brig-of-war,
commanded by Captain Allen, boldly entered the British channel, and
in a short time captured vessels and canfoes to the amount of two
millions of dollars. Such was the terror created by her depredations
THE ENTERPRISE AND TUB BOXER.
that insurances could scarcely be effected at any price in London.
The government hastened to despatch various cruizers against the
Argus, one of which, the Pelican, of superior force, finally fell if
BATTLE OF TALLUSHATCHEE. 47
with and captured her. The defence of the Argus was desperate,
and only terminated by the fall of her Captain, and the approach of
an enemy's frigate. On the 4th of September, the American brig-of-
war, Enterprise, Lieutenant Burrows, took the British brig-of-war,
Boxer, of equal force, and thus again changed the fortune of war.
On the whole, however, our naval success in 1813, was inferior to
what it had been during 1812 ; and that unlimited confidence in our
naval prowess, which had begun to characterize the Americans,
yielded to uneasy doubts. While the failures on the St. Lawrence,
and the equal nature of the strife at sea thus filled the public mind
with uneasiness, the breaking out of a war among the Creeks of
Georgia, affording a new element of danger, led, for a time, to almost
general gloom.
The Indians of the south had early shown a taste for civilized
pursuits, and become thriving agriculturalists. Some traces of their
original savage natures, however, remained uneradicated, and
these were easily re-awakened, when Tecumseh, in the spring
of 1812, visited them to instigate to war. In September of
that year, accordingly, an attack was made on a party of Georgia
volunteers, who, after a sharp conflict, were forced to retreat.
On receiving intelligence of this event, General Jackson, at the head
of twenty-five hundred Tennessee volunteers, was ordered out,
and in consequence, the Creeks were, for a time, awed into quiet.
But, on the 30th of August, 1813, a body of Indians suddenly at-
tacked Fort Mimmns, in Alabama, and having fired the houses built
around the enclosure, massacred the garrison and other inmates as
they rushed from the flames. About three hundred settlers, alarmed
by the disturbed condition of the country, had taken refuge in the
fort, and these all fell, except seventeen, who managed to escape.
The savages followed up this blow by laying waste the neighboring
country, and murdering the peaceable inhabitants. Encouraged by
these successes, the whole Creek nation rushed to arms, and the
people of Georgia, Alabama and even Tennessee, began to tremble
for property and life.
An army of thirty-five hundred men was promptly raised to chas-
tise the savages. At the head of this army was placed General Jack-
son. He immediately marched into the Indian country, and on the
9th of November, 181 3, despatched General Coffee, with nine hundred
men, against a body of Indians, collected at Tallushatchee. A com-
plete victory was gained by the Americans, and at a loss of only
five killed and forty wounded. The enemy fought with desperate
valor, and protracted the contest until nearly all his warriois perished,
over one hundred and eighty being left dead on the field. On the
48 BATTLE OF EMUCZFATT.
9th of December, General Jackson, in person, met anotherbody of the
Indians at Talledega, and cut them to pieces, after a terrible encoun-
ter. More than three hundred of the enemy were killed ; while but
fifteen Americans were killed, and eighty wounded. After this bat-
tle, General Jackson was forced to remain inactive for a time, in conse-
quence of the want of provisions and of a mutiny among his troops.
But, meanwhile, General White, at the head of another body of mi-
litia, had attacked the principal towns of the Hillabee tribe, which
he destroyed, killing sixty warriors, and making two hundred and
fifty prisoners. Almost simultaneously, the Georgia militia, under
General Floyd, at the Autossee town on Tallapoosa river, obtained
a decisive victory over the Indians, killing two hundred, with a loss
of but eleven Americans killed, and fifty-four wounded.
The bloody tragedy continued without intermission during the
rest of 1813, and up to the spring of 1814. As it is but a repetition
of sanguinary battles, let us hasten to its close. On the 21st of Janu-
ary, 18 14, the savages, recovering confidence, attacked General Jack-
son at Emuckfau, but were again defeated, with great slaughter.
On the 27th, they also assailed the camp of General Floyd, with
like ill-success. The Americans did not follow up these advan-
tages, however, until spring, being prevented from active mea-
sures by the want of provisions. But on the 14th of March, Gene-
ral Jackson began to advance a second time into the Creek territory.
On the 27th, he fought the decisive battle of the Horse-Shoe-Bend, in
which near six hundred of the savages perished. The American
loss was fifty-five killed and one hundred and forty-six wounded.
This action terminated the war. The strength of the Indians had
been completely prostrated in this last struggle, and being utterly
unable to make another stand, they sued for peace.' In all these ac-
tions the savages had fought with the most heroic obstinacy, gener-
ally refusing quarter ; and, at the close of hostilities, many, disdain-
ing to submit, sullenly retired to Florida, where, in secret, they
brooded over revenge.
The conditions on which the United States granted peace, were
liberal, considering the unprovoked nature of the war, and the almost
uninterrupted success which had attended the American arms. All
the prisoners on both sides were to be restored. As the war had
prevented the Indians planting corn, and the nation would be con
sequently in a state of starvation, the United States agreed to furnish
the necessaries of life until the famine should be over. In conside-
ration of these things the Creeks ceded a portion of their territory
NORTH-WESTERN FRONTIER. 49
sutficient to indemnify the United States for the expenses of the war.
It was further stipulated that roads should be opened through the Creek
territory ; that the navigation of the Creek rivers should be free ; and
that the United States should have the right to establish military
posts and trading houses within the Creek boundaries.
We have thus followed the course of events during the years 1812
and 1813 ; and beheld, on every side, far more disasters than victo-
ries. The task has been an uninviting one. With the exception of
the victory at Fort Stephenson, an incessant torrent of misfortune
had characterized the operations in the north-west, up to the victory
of Perry on Lake Erie. First, Detroit had surrendered ; then Har-
rison's autumnal campaign had failed ; afterwards had come the
massacre of the Raisin; and, finally, to crown this climax of defeat,
the American army, instead of recovering Michigan, was compelled
to fall back and entrench itself at Fort Meigs. The first half of the
year 1813 passed without any victories to compensate for these dis-
asters. It is true, Fort Meigs twice repulsed the enemy, but this
was only a negative success, and did not satisfy the people, who had
expected the army to advance into Canada. At last the prospect began
to brighten. After great exertions, a large army was collected on
the shores of Lake Erie,and Perry having obtained his victory, there
followed the invasion of the enemy's territory, the battle of the
Thames, the recovery of Michigan, and the utter destruction of
the hostile Indian confederacy !
But on Lake Ontario and the St. Lawrence, misfortune still at-
tended our arms. What few advantages had been obtained over
the enemy in this part of Canada, were lost before the close of 1813,
and the most cheerless prospect presented itself to the people on that
frontier. Our armies had been universally defeated ; our oldest and
most tried Generals had failed ; and our soil had been profaned and
our villages burned by the victorious enemy. Instead of being the
invaders we had become the invaded. These triumphs over us had
been gained by a comparatively small number of the British forces ;
for occupied with the closing struggles of Napoleon, England had
been unable to spare but few of her veteran troops. But the con-
test in Europe was evidently drawing to a close. Before many
months, Great Britain, disengaged from her continental foe, would
be at liberty to inundate our shores with fifty thousand veterans
These considerations filled all reflecting minds with alarm. It was
to be feared, that, with such superior advantages, England would not
only regain what she had lost in the north-west, but carry her vic-
v 7
50
REFLECTIONS ON THE WAR.
torious arms permanently into New York. The prospect, indeed,
was dark and threatening. Was it eternal night setting in, or only
the gloom that precedes the dawn ?
Indeed, even at this day, the historian cannot look back upon that
period, without melancholy feelings. Millions of money had been
spent, and thousands of lives sacrificed, yet scarcely a gleam of vic-
tory had irradiated the dark tempest of disaster. But the heroic re-
solution to continue the struggle remained, and while that was left
all hope had not yet departed. The nation, at that epoch, reminds
us of some defeated army, which has sunk down exhausted, amid
the gloom and horror of the battle-field, to snatch a short repose be-
fore renewing the desperate contest on the morrow. Only a prophe-
tic eye could see light breaking across the ruin.
BOOK III.
TO THE CLOSE OP THE CONTEST.
EFORE resuming the narrative of military
events, we will turn aside to consider the
financial condition of the country, and other
matters important to be known for a full un-
derstanding of the contest.
The two years of war which had now
elapsed had cost the nation immense sums.
By carrying on the contest at a distance from
the thickly settled portions of the country, the
expenses had been much increased, and in some instances were al-
most appalling. Each barrel of flour for Harrison's army was esti-
mated to have cost a hundred dollars. Of four thousand pack-horses
employed in the autumn of 1812 to transport supplies to that Gene-
ral, but eight hundred were alive at the end of the ensuing winter,
and the nation paid for all that perished. The expenses of the war
on Lake Ontario wore less frightful, though even there they swelled
51
52 TAXATION.
to an amount that was almost incredible. It cost a thousand dollars
for every cannon conveyed to Sackett's Harbor. To build the fleets
on the lakes absorbed immense amounts. The sura expended on
Lake Ontario for this purpose alone was nearly two millions of dol-
lars. These vast outlays necessarily embarrassed the public finances,
especially as the war had been begun with an impoverished treasury.
Before Congress adjourned, after the declaration of hostilities, a bilJ
had been passed, allowing the President to issue treasury notes to
the amount of five millions of dollars ; and one of its first acts on re-
assembling in November, was to authorize a further issue of five
millions, and to empower him to borrow sixteen millions in addition.
These measures being found insufficient to provide for the rapidly
increasing expenses of the contest, and the revenue from the customs
being cut off almost entirely, it became necessary to adopt other ex-
pedients, and accordingly, on the 22nd of July, 1813, Congress passed
an act for levying direct taxes and internal duties. The direct tax
was, at first, fixed at three millions, but in January, 1815, it was in-
creased to six. The average duration of the war taxes was three
years. The nett proceeds were about five millions three hundred
thousand dollars annually. These taxes continued to be increased,
from time to time, until the declaration of peace, after which they
were gradually diminished until they ceased altogether. It is
honorable to the nation to record that never were taxes paid
more promptly, though specie payments being suspended, money
was scarce and the currency in a most deranged condition. In addi-
tion to these taxes, Congress, between the years 1812 and 1815, au-
thorized loans to the amount of ninety millions, most of which were
received in a depreciated currency, and never at an interest of less
than six per cent. During the war the issue of treasury notes to the
amount of forty millions also was authorized. At the close of the
contest the national debt was increased nearly one hundred millions.
In consequence of these enormous liabilities the credit of the federal
government sunk so low that treasury notes depreciated to seventeen
per cent, and the loans to thirty per cent, below par. During all
this period the commercial world was plunged in distress. Coin dis-
appeared from circulation, and was replaced by a paper currency,
frequently of the most worthless kind. The ruin of private fortunes
was frequent. Yet, on the whole, the people bore their calamities
with cheerfulness, never forgetting that they, rather than the
government, were the true authors of the war !
We have already alluded to the fact that England, for the first
two years of the contest, depended chiefly on the savages to fight
GENERAL DEARBORN. 53
ner battles. This was, in part, the result of necessity. Her minister
at Washington, Mr. Foster, had so completely mistaken public sen-
timent in the United States, as to believe that there existed nc*dan-
ger of a war, and accordingly his government, relying on these as-
surances, made little or no preparation for the crisis. Hence, when
Congress declared hostilities, the British had but five thousand troops
in Canada. Alarmed at the consequence of his error, Mr. Foster
hastened to obviate them by a trick ; and it was at his secret insti-
gation that Sir George Prevost applied for and obtained the armis-
tice with General Dearborn, to which we have before alluded. This
armistice, it is true, was immediately disavowed by Mr. Madison ;
but in the meantime it had served its purpose ; for as the agreement
did not extend to the upper lakes, Brock had hastened thither, and
in consequence Detroit had been captured. The disgrace attending
the fall of that place, madeita point of honor that it should be re-ta-
ken ; and hence more importance was attached to its re-capture than
it, perhaps, deserved. It is almost certain that if the sums which
were expended in recovering Michigan, had been applied to fitting
out an expe^tion against Halifax, that important naval depot might
have become ours in the first year of the war, and a blow been
struck at England which would have staggered her, notwithstand-
ing her colossal strength !
There is another consideration which increases the regret of the
historian, when he reflects on this unfortunate armistice. It was the
cause of a long period of inactivity, fatal not only to the health, but
to the spirits of the army. The war on Lake Ontario having begun
in a languishing way, was continued in the same manner for nearly
two years ; for the troops who were to conduct it had been ruined,
as it were, by the inactivity of the first three months. Had Dearborn,
on the declaration of hostilities, dashed boldly across into Canada,
he would have carried everything before him. A leader like Brown,
or Scott, or Jackson, would, at that period, have been invaluable.
The comparatively small numbers of the enemy would have render-
ed his resistance unavailing, and the prestige of success once obtain-
ed r our soldiers would have won victories subsequently as of course !
More men in Dearborn's command died of diseases contracted from
inactivity, than would have fallen in all the battles necessary to
wrest Canada from the British arms. The weakness, imbecility, and
want of energy which characterized the leaders, soon descended to
the soldiers ; and hence it was that Wilkinson's army, the finest
of the war, effected nothing. Timidity in the General breeds cow-
ardice in the men.
54 NEGOTIATIONS FOR PEACE.
The awe in which the enemy's prowess was held, was not unknown
to him, as we have seen in narrating the operations that led to the
surrender of Detroit. The old arrogance of England now displayed
itself in consequence in a claim as absurd, as it was tyrannical. On
the capture of Colonel Scott's regulars at Queenstown, those who
had been born subjects of his majesty, were selected from the pri-
soners, and sent to England, there to be tried for bearing arms
against their King. This conduct, though sought to be defended by
the doctrine of allegiance, was an outrage of the most atrocious cha-
racter, since many of the men were not only Irishmen, and hence
unwilling subjects of Great Britain, but had become legal citizens
of the United States. The behaviour of England in this affair, was
no less absurd than unjust, for she could not but know that the Uni-
ted States would retaliate. Colonel Scott, on his exchange, immedi-
ately represented the case of these men to the Federal Government,
which promptly issued orders that the British soldiers taken by our
armies, should be held responsible for any injury inflicted on the
prisoners of Queenstown. The English ministry, threatened in reply,
that if a single British soldier suffered, an American officer should be
sacrificed for every such soldier. But the United States, regardless
of this, maintained a firm attitude. For a while the prisoners on both
sides, below the rank of captain, inclusive, were treated harshly ; but
in the spring of 1814, the enemy set the example of relaxing, and the
dispute was finally terminated, by the release of Scott's soldiers.
The attitude assumed by England in this affair, would not, perhaps,
have been attempted towards any other civilized power. That some
of our citizens were found to defend it, proved that the colonial
habit of submission had not yet entirely left us.
Nor indeed was the administration of Mr. Madison wholly free
from that belief in the invincibility of England, which had led to so
many disasters on land, and had, in part, invited this arrogance.
From a war, forced on it by the people, it was extremely anxious to
escape. Mr. Gallatin, the then most prominent member of the Cabi-
net, was eager for peace. Mr. Monroe, one of the warmest friends
of the Government, declared that" we ought to get out of the war
as soon as we could." Mr. Madison himself, had not favored hos-
tilities, and was desirous to secure peace as soon as possible ; but the
conflict having once begun, he objected to any terms of conciliation
which did not afford redress for all our old complaints. Hence,
when Admiral Warren arrived at Halifax, in September, 1812, hav-
ing been sent out principally to arrange an accommodation, the Pre-
sident rejected the offered olive branch, because Great Britain re-
NEGOTIATIONS FOR PEACE. 55
fused to abandon her claim to impressment. The terms on which
the United States were willing to treat, were a repeal of the orders
in council, no revival of paper blockades, the cessation of impress-
ments, and the immediate release of all American seamen from Bri-
tish ships. England, on her part, rejected these conditions, and the
war consequently went on. But the negotiations had not been with-
out their effect on military operations, which, as we have seen, lan-
guished on Lake Ontario during the whole autumn of 1812.
Another abortive attempt at a reconciliation came in the following
year, from an unexpected quarter. On the 20th of September, 1813,
the Russian Government, then in close alliance with Great Britain,
offered itself as a mediator between the belligerants. This was, in
part, attributable to the diplomatic skill of Mr. Adams, the minister of
the United States, at the court of St. Petersburg; in part the result of the
Emperor's anxiety to secure for his subjects those commercial advan-
tages which hostilities bet ween the two greatest maritime powers on the
globe prevented. This offer of mediation was rejected in London as
soon as made known, the English ministry declining to submit to
mediation, differences which they declared involved the internal go-
vernment of Great Britain. In the United States, however, the ten-
der was promptly accepted, and Messrs. Gallatin and Bayard ap-
pointed envoys, to unite with Mr. Adams in negotiating a peace.
As all these gentlemen had been opposed to the war, their selection
was pregnant with meaning, and men were now 'confident that
peace would speedily be declared. The embassy arrived in the
Baltic on the 21st of June, 1813, but met with disappointment. Eng-
land, on the 1st of September, after again declining the mediation,
offered, however, to appoint persons to hold conferences with the
American embassy, and named Gottenburg as a suitable place for
the meeting. As the Commissioners of the United States had no
authority to treat, except under the mediation of Russia, it became
necessary to await new powers, which did not reach Europe until
the Spring of 1814. There can be no question but that the eager-
ness shown by the United States for peace, frustrated its own wishes.
Moreover, in proportion as this country grew more anxious for a re-
conciliation, England became freed from her continental struggle,
and more able to punish us. Hence, as our offers rose, her demands
increased. But a re-action was now about to begin, which, in the
short space of six months, was to make her as willing to accept as
she had before been arrogant to decline our terms.
The difficulty in the way of Mr. Madison's prosecution of the war,
from the outset, had been the attitude of the New England states
56 DISAFFECTION OF NEW ENGLAND.
This wealthy, intelligent and influential section of the Union had al-
ways been opposed to hostilities; and had gone so far as to refuse
to order out its militia on the requisition of the President. In other
ways, also, the New England states sought to embarrass military
operations. In a republic like this, where public sentiment is the
main spring of all movements, the influence wielded by the most in-
telligent portion of the Union must ever be great. Hence, the senti-
ments of New England made converts throughout the whole coun-
try, especially in northern and western New York, where a large
portion of the inhabitants were of New England origin. A favorite
doctrine of those who opposed the war, was that the President had
no right to employ militia for purposes of invasion ; and hence it fre-
quently happened at the most critical emergencies, that this species
of force refused to cross into Canada. This occurred at the battle of
Queenstown. The knowledge of the prevailing sentiment in New
England induced Great Britain, during the first two years virtually
to exempt that section of the Union from hostilities. Meantime, a thri-
ving traffic was carried on with Halifax, by the disaffected states;
and large quantities of American flour were landed at that port,
almost weekly ; at a time, too, when the article was scarce in the
United States. To check this species of treasonable commerce, Con-
gress, in December, 1813, passed an embargo law, but the trade still
continued to exist, notwithstanding; and accordingly, in April, the
useless interdict was repealed. Tho hostility of New England to-
wards the war had such an influence on the earlier stages of its pro-
gress, as to induce the retort on Dr. .E ust is, Secretary of War, and
himself from Boston, " that if New England had not been disaffect-
ed, the United States could have taken Canada, the first year, by
contract."
But, towards the close of 1813, sentiments in New England began
to change. Nothing exercised a greater- influence in producing this
wholesome alteration than the barbarities committed by Admiral
Cockburn, in the Chesapeake, but especially at Hampton. Hitherto
it had been said in New England that we were the aggressors ; but
after this invasion of our soil, and its attendant atrocities, public
opinion turned. It was on this occasion that Henry Clay, then
speaker of the House of Representatives, distinguished himself by
one of those bursts of indignant eloquence, for which he was famed.
Leaving the chair, he offered a resolution for the appointment of a
committee to inquire into the departures of the enemy from the laws
of war and humanity, and to embody a narrative of these outrages
in a public document to challenge the attention of all civilized na-
GENERAL BROWW. 57
tions. The motion was carried, and in accordance with it a report
made, which exercised an important influence in revolutionizing pub-
lic sentiment and inciting the nation to a vigorous prosecution of
the war.
The blockade of the New England coasts in the spring of 1814,
conduced also to this result. A British squadron seized Eastport,
in Maine, and retained it until the close of the war. In April a squadron
of the enemy ascended the Connecticut river as far as Pittipaug Point,
set on fire the village, and burned over twenty vessels that had taken
refuge there. In August, the town of Stonington, towards the eastern
extremity of Long Island Sound, was bombarded for three days, by
Commodore Hardy, but without success. In September, the whole
coast of Maine, from the Penobscot to Passamaquoddy Bay, was
seized by the enemy, and a proclamation issued by him, declaring
it conquered, and requiring the submission of the inhabitants to the
British government. These successive outrages on its own soil roused
the indignation of New England. The spirit of hostility there was
still further increased, in the summer of 1814, by the invasion of the
enemy along the route of Lake Champlain.
We have thus traced the causes why it happened that, just as Eng-
land was prepared to turn her undivided strength against the United
States, the latter, for the first time during the war, became compe-
tent for the struggle, and united in favor of its prosecution. At the
moment when Great Britain loomed more colossal than ever across
the Atlantic, the American republic, like a young Sampson, whose
locks had grown again, stepped forth to the combat. In 1813, imbe-
cile Generals, undisciplined troops, and divisions among the people
had produced a harvest of defeat ; but when the campaign opened
in 1814, all this had changed. Younger and abler leaders were at
the head of the army ; the soldiers had been so thoroughly drilled
as to be almost veterans ; and the Union was united. Added to
this, the imposing attitude of the enemy called up each latent sinew
on our part. It was felt by every American that, if the republic was
defeated in another campaign, consequences the most disastrous, if
not fatal, would ensue.
Wilkinson had been succeeded in his command by General Izard ;
but the latter, in the active measures of the campaign, gave place to Ge-
neral Brown. This leader belonged to a new school in war. To seek
the enemy, to fight him at odds, never to think of retreat, these
maxims which are now cardinal points in the creed of an American
army, first originated with General Brown. In this species of war
rare he was ably sustained by General Scott, his second in command.
8
58
BATTLE OP LUNDY'S LANE.
Resolving to take the initiative, General Brown, on the 2nd of July
at midnight, embarked his troops from Black Rock, to attack Fort
Erie. In the grey of the morning the astonished garrison beheld the
Americans drawn up ready for an assault ; and knowing that resist-
ance would be useless against such an overwhelming force, imme-
diately surrendered. General Brown now pushed forward to Chip-
pewa, where it was understood the British, under General Rial],
were posted, to the number of three thousand. Here, on the 5th of
July, the battle of Chippewa was fought, in which the enemy was
signally defeated. The loss of the British, in this action, was one
hundred and thirty-three killed, three hundred and twenty wounded,
and forty -six missing. The Americans lost sixty killed and two
hundred and sixty-eight wounded and missing. The English troops
in that portion of Canada now hastened to concentrate. On the 25th
of July, General Brown, being informed that a detachment of the
enemy had invaded the American soil, hurried General Scott for-
BATTLK OF LTODT'S LAIJX.
ward to attack the forts at the mouth of the Niagara, hoping by this
diversion, to recall the foe to the Canadian shore. General Scott at
the head of about thirteen hundred men only, came suddenly across
a superior force of the enemy at Lundy's Lane, under General's
Drummond and Riall. Disdaining to retire, a sanguinary battle en-
BATTLE OP FORT ERIE. 59
sued, which he maintained alone for two hours, until the arrival of
General Brown with the remainder of the army. The latter officer
immediately drew General Scott's brigade out of action, and com-
mitted the contest to that of Ripley, which was fresh. The height
at the head of the lane, where the enemy had posted a battery, and
which was the key of his position, was now gallantly carried by
Colonel Miller, under the orders of General Brown. Several unsuc-
cessful efforts were made by the foe to regain this elevation. The
combat, which began before dark, raged until midnight. By this
time both Generals Brown and Scott had been wounded and forced
to retire from the field. The command now devolved on General
Ripley. The enemy being repulsed, Ripley concluded to retire to
camp, whence, after refreshing his men, he was directed to march by
daylight, and engage the foe. But, finding the enemy's force had
been much increased during the night, Ripley thought it advisable
to "retreat, and accordingly retired to Fort Erie, destroying the
bridges as he went. The loss of the British at Lundy's Lane was
eighty-five killed, five hundred and fifty-five wounded, and two hun-
dred and thirty-four missing. The Americans lost in killed, wounded
and missing, eight hundred and sixty.
Arrived at the fort, Ripley used the greatest exertions to strengthen
its defences, before the enemy should arrive. On the 4th of August,
General Drummond came up, and invested the place with five thou-
sand men. The garrison was but sixteen hundred, commanded by
General Gaines, who had been sent by General Brown to supersede
Ripley. Having drawn their lines of circumvallation closer and
closer, until, on the 13th of August, they had arrived within four
hundred yards of the fort, the British began a furious bombardment
and cannonade. At last, on the 15th, the enemy at two in the
morning, advanced in threft columns to assault the place. The con-
flict was long and desperate. The British, at one time, obtained a
lodgment in the fort, but were eventually driven out again, with
great slaughter. The loss of the enemy was computed at nine hun-
dred and fifteen. The American loss was only eighty-four. A
fortnight afterwards, General Brown, having recovered partially
from his wounds, arrived, and assumed command. Finding that the
British continued to push forward the approaches, General Brown
resolved to make a sortie, destroy the batteries, and cut off the ad-
vanced division of the enemy. This bold undertaking was crowned
with the most brilliant success. In thirty minutes, the Americans
destroyed the labor of forty-seven days, took three hundred and
eighty prisoners, and left five hundred of the enemy killed or
60 EXPEDITION TO DISMEMBER THE UNION
wounded on the field. The loss of General Brown was seventy -nine
killed, two hundred and thirty-two wounded, and two hundred arid
sixteen missing. On the night of the 21st, the British raised the
siege, and retired with their whole army. The Americans, how-
ever, soon after abandoned Fort Erie of their own accord, and trans-
porting themselves to the other shore, terminated the third invasion
of Canada. This was done under the orders of General Izard, who,
arriving at head quarters on the 9th of October, took command as
superior officer.
In the meantime, an expedition had been projected by the
enemy, to dismember the Union by an invasion along the line of
Lake Champlain. The scheme was not unlike that proposed by
Burgoyne in the revolutionary war ; and, as at that time, the English
officers boasted of the certainty of success. It was thought a portion
of New York or New England, might be permanently annexed to
the British crown ; and there were even those among the enemy
who believed that the city of New York itself, would be captured by
the expedition. The force collected for the purpose, boasted, indeed,
threatenirrg numbers. Napoleon having abdicated at Fontainbleau,
in April, and the British troops in Europe being left without em-
ployment, large detachments of them were shipped to Canada, where
they arrived during the months of July and August, 1814, to the
number of thirty-five thousand. After garrisoning the various posts,
and despatching reinforcements to the Niagara, there remained about
fourteen thousand men, with whom the British General marched on
Plattsburg, a town on the river Saranac, near its junction with
Lake Champlain.
The whole force of the Americans left here, was but fifteen hun-
dred, commanded by Brigadier General Macomb; for General
Izard, a few days before, had carried off with him most of the troops
to Niagara. But Macomb was equal to the emergency : his genius
made up for the want of soldiers. On the 6th of September, the
enemy appeared before Plattsburg. After some sharp skirmishing,
Macomb retired across the Saranac, to an entrenched camp on the
opposite shore, tearing up the planks of the bridge as he retreated,
and with them strengthening his defences. The enemy, attempting
to follow him, was repulsed. From this day, until the llth, the
British contented themselves with erecting batteries opposite
Macomb's position. Meantime, the foe was busily engaged in fitting
out a fleet, with the intention of capturing that of McDonough,
lying in Plattsburg bay. On the 18th, the English squadron appeared
in sight, ani bearing down on the American fleet, began the action.
BURNING OP THE CAPITOL. 61
Simultaneously, the land forces of the enemy attempted to carry
Macomb's position, but were repulsed at every point of attack.
Finally, the British ships being captured, and night approaching,
the battle ceased. As soon as darkness had settled on the landscape,
the enemy precipitately abandoned the field, and began a retreat.
Thus, at the head of fifteen hundred regulars, and three thousand
militia, Macomb defeated an army fourteen thousand strong, com-
posed of the very elite of the conquerors of the Peninsula. The loss
of the American land forces was only ninety -nine, that of the fleet,
one hundred and ten. The British squadron lost in killed, wounded,
prisoners, and missing, one thousand and fifty ; their army was di-
minished by the same casualities, at least twenty-five hundred.
In another quarter of the United States, however, an invasion of
the enemy was more successful. In August, an expedition destined
to act against Washington appeared in the Chesapeake, and having
effected a landing at Benedict, on the Patuxent, began its march
towards the Capital. The force of the British was about five thou-
sand, commanded by General Ross. The Americans, to the number
of three thousand, more than half of whom were militia, were led
by General Winder, who, finding it impossible to make head against
the enemy, fell back to Bladensburg, where, on the 24th, he was
joined by a reinforcement of twenty-one hundred men, exclusive of
Commodore Barney, at the head of his marines. Here the Ameri-
cans made a stand. But the armies were too nearly equal in num-
ber to allow the invading one to be defeated by the illy disciplined
levies of General Winder. The only portion of the field properly
contested, was that occupied by Commodore Barney and his marines.
These poured such a destructive fire into the enemy, flushed from
the easy defeat of the militia, that he staggered, arid was thrown into
momentary confusion. A few more such brave marines, or another
Barney at the opposite side of the field, would have saved the day.
But General Ross perceiving the scanty numbers of these troops,
poured his columns upon them, and charging them on both flanks
and in front, simultaneously, gained the victory. Barney fell
wounded into the hands of the foe, as did also Colonel Miller, of the
marineSj Meantime, the militia fled, panic-struck, in all directions,
abandoning Washington to the enemy. General Ross, following up
his success, entered the capital that evening, and proceeded with
Vandal barbarity to burn the public buildings. The Capitol, the
President's mansion, the War, Treasury, arid Navy offices, shared
this fate. The old excuse of the burning of Newark, in Canada, was
offered for this outrage ; a better one would have been that the coa
VI
62 ASSAULT UPON FORT MC HENRY.
querors. so lately from the Peninsula, had become debauched by tha
wars of Europe. To men brutalized by a long series of hostilities in
a half savage country ; to men who had sacked Badajoz, and ravaged
half of Spain ; the wanton destruction of an enemy's Capitol, ap-
peared a slight offence against civilization and humanity. It is the
proud boast of America, that under similar circumstances, and when
ths siege was infinitely more irritating, the public edifices of Mexico
were sacredly respected.
The Briiish retired from Washington on the evening of the 25th,
and on the 29th, embarked from Benedict. Their loss in this expe-
dition is estimated at four hundred killed or wounded ; while it is
believed five hundred deserted, or were made prisoners. Simulta-
neously with this attack upon the Capital, two other detachments
had been sent out from the fleet, one against Alexandria, the other
up the Chesapeake. The attack on Alexandria proved successful,
and the town was preserved from the torch only by the sacrifice of
all its vessels and merchandize. The foray up the Chesapeake was
more unfortunate for the British. Near Bellair, Sir Peter Parker,
who led the expedition, landed to assault a body of militia, but was
FOB! MC HKNRT.
driven back, receiving a wound, by which he died in a few minutes.
The enemy, flushed with success at Washington, now moved upon
OPERATIONS IN CHESAPEAKE B^T. 63
Baltimore, where he expected as easy a triumph, and. a richer prize,
for it was now a maxim with the invaders only to attack for the
purpose of booty. But meantime, the country was rising to its de-
fence. In an incredibly short interval, fifteen thousand armed men
had been' collected at Baltimore, under the command of General
Samuel Smith, an officer of the Revolution, in whom the fire of
military genius had not yet suffered diminution. Batteries were
hastily erected, and a ditch dug on the eastern side of the town ; the
only line where it was available by land. Ten thousand men were
stationed to defend these works. The approach to Baltimore by
water was guarded by Fort Me Henry, by obstructions sunk in the
channel of the river, and by two heavily constructed batteries be-
tween Fort McHenry and the city.
On the 12th of September, the enemy debarked his land forces, to
the number of five thousand men, at North Point, fourteen miles
below Baltimore. A detachment twenty-two hundred strong, under
General Strieker, having been sent forward in anticipation of this land-
ing, to skirmish with the enemy and impede his progress, a sort of
running action began, which continued throughout the day ; the
Americans slowly retreating before the superior numbers of the Bri-
tish. During the early part of the combat, General Ross, the Eng-
lish commander, was killed. By evening, General Strieker had re-
tired to within half a mile of the American entrenchments, where he
rested. On the ensuing day, the enemy was seen moving in heavy
masses to the right, as if intending to reach the city by a circuitous
route, but General Smith, concentrating his forces in that direction,
frustrated the design. Night fell, when the enemy took post within
a mile of the works, intending to storm them as soon as the attack
by water had succeeded.
Here, however, the British met with an unexpected repulse. The
bombardment of Fort McHenry began at sunrise, on the 13th, and
continued throughout that day and the succeeding night, though
without reducing the fortress. Under cover of the darkness, several
rocket vessels and barges ascended past Fort McHenry, but being
detected, were received with a heavy cannonade. They maintained
their course, however, until they arrived opposite the lesser forts,
where they met such a deadly fire that they hastened to retire one
of their flotilla being sunk with all on board. When morning dawned,
a consultation was held between the commanders of the English fleet
and army, and the resolution taken to abandon the expedition. Ac-
cordingly, the troops retired to North Point, where they embarked
the same evening, and on the morning of the 15th, the people of
64 ATTACK ON FORT BOWYER.
Baltimore were gladdened by the sight of the English sails, whiten
ing the bay, in their retreat. The British lost in this affair about
three hundred ; the Americans, two hundred and thirteen. During
ihe whole series of operations the militia behaved with the greatest
spirit, and amply redeemed the conduct of the same species of force
at Bladensburg. Indeed, the whole number of regulars at Balti-
more, exclusive of marines, was but seven hundred.
The enemy had projected, simultaneously with this attack, an
expedition against our southern waters. Towards the close of
August, General Jackson, whose head-quarters had been at Mobile
since the termination of the Creek war, received intelligence that an
English squadron had appeared at Pensacola, where it was harbored
by the Spanish Governor. Information was also obtained that a
second squadron, accompanied by ten thousand troops, was soon to
arrive at Pensacola, whence a descent was to be made on some con-
venient point on the American coast, most probably New Orleans.
General Jackson, having vainly remonstrated with the Governor of
Pensacola, for receiving and granting assistance to the British, now
proceeded to call on the neighboring states for reinforcements, with
the intention of punishing this infraction of the law of nations.
Meanwhile, Colonel Nichols, the Commander of the enemy's forces,
issued a proclamation, supremely ridiculous considering the circum-
stances, calling on the people of Louisiana, Tennessee and Kentucky,
to " throw off the yoke under which they had been so long groan-
ing." Simultaneously, also, he attempted to enlist in his service a
band of nautical marauders, half smugglers, half pirates, who had
formed quite an extensive settlement at the island of Barrataria, on
the coast of Louisiana. These lawless men were commanded by a
person named Lafitte. This individual, instead of accepting the
terms of Colonel Nichols, revealed them to the Governor of Louisi-
ana, at the same time communicating important information respect-
ing the designs of the British. Lafitte was offered, in return, an
amnesty for himself and followers, if he would join the Americans.
This proposition was accepted, and the haunt at Barrataria broken
up. Subsequently, at the siege of New Orleans, Lafitte and his
men rendered important services.
On the 15th of September, while General Jackson was awaiting
reinforcements at Mobile, a British squadron appeared off Fort
Bowysi, thirty miles below the town, and immediately began an
attack. A tremendous cannonade, on both sides, was continued for
three hours, when the enemy's squadron retired, having suffered
immense slaughter. The flag-ship ran aground, and was set on fire
DEFENCE OF NEW ORLEANS. 65
by her surviving crew ; for out of one hundred and seventy men in
her, only the Captain and twenty escaped. At the moment of the
naval attack, Colonel Nichols, with a force of three hundred and
thirty British and Indians was debarked for a land attack ; but the
fire of the fort soon destroyed all hopes of his success, and, after the
retreat of the squadron, he retired to Pensacola by land. Thither,
on the 6th of November, General Jackson, having been reinforced
by two thousand Tennessee militia, followed him; and immediately
despatched a flag to the Governor of Pensacola, demanding redress
for his late conduct. The flag was fired on and compelled to retire.
On the following day, General Jackson stormed the town, and after
capturing one of the batteries, forced the Governor to capitulate.
In consequence of the loss of Pensacola, the British left the bay, and
General Jackson returned to Mobile.
The design of the enemy to attack New Orleans having now be-
come public, General Jackson hurried to assume the command of that
important post. He left Mobile accordingly on the 22nd of Novem-
ber, and reached his destination on the 2nd of December. His
presence was the salvation of the city. He found, on his arrival,
that scarcely any preparations had been made to repel the projected
invasion ; and that the most vigorous measures would be necessary
in consequence, to place the town and its approaches -in a state of
defence. Moreover the city was full of disaffected persons, who
carried intelligence almost daily to the enemy. To check these
treasonable practices, as well as to give him that despotic control
over the labor of the citizens, which was necessary in the emergen-
cy, he applied to the Legislature to repeal the habeas corpus act.
The Legislature hesitated. As no time was to be lost, General
Jackson cut short further discussion by proclaiming martial law.
The inhabitants were now ordered down to the lines, to work on the
fortifications, without regard to their wealth. The whole country
by which the city could be approached was personally examined
by the General, and defences constructed at all proper points. These
preparations were increased when a fleet of gun-boats, on which the
General had placed much dependence, was attacked in the lakes to
the east of the city, and overcome by superior forces. In a word,
General Jackson availed himself to their utmost extent of all the
materials for defence within his reach; and by his promptitude,
energy, and vast resources of mind, infused confidence into both
citizens and army.
On the 5th of December, the enemy had Arst appeared off the
coast ; on the 14th he had captured the American gun-boats ; and
vi* 9
66 BATTLE OP NEW ORLEANS.
on the 23rd, availing himself of a pass, called the Bayou Bienvenne,
which unfortunately had been left unguarded, he fell on an advanced
guard of the Americans, made its members prisoners, and pushing
rapidly on, reached the bank of the Mississippi at two o'clock in the
afternoon. The road to the city was now open before him. In this
crisis, General Jackson, instead of waiting to be attacked, resolved
boldly to march out and assail the British. He arrived at their
position about five o'clock. Their flank being exposed to the water,
Commodore Patterson's armed schooner, the Caroline, was sent,
under cover of the night, to assail it, which was done, the guns
being aimed by the British watch-fires. This was the first intima-
tion the foe had of his danger. Simultaneously the American land
forces attacked the right, centre and left, of the enemy. His camp
was carried on the right, and the slaughter along his front was ex-
cessive. But, extinguishing their watch-fires, the British rallied to
the combat, when a close and well contested combat ensued. In
the end, General Jackson drew off his men in consequence of a
dense fog. He lay on the field all night, but thought it most pru-
dent to retire in the morning to a stronger position, two miles nearer
the city. In this action, the enemy numbered about three thousand.
The loss of the Americans, in killed, wounded and missing, was two
hundred and thirteen : that of the British two hundred and eighty-
two. This battle may be said to have decided the fate of New Or-
leans. It inspired confidence among the Americans, while it fore-
warned the enemy that his expedition was to produce more hard
blows than booty.
In his new position, which, strong by nature, was rendered stronger
by art, General Jackson leisurely awaited the approach of the foe.
On the 28th, the main body of the British having landed, their com-
mander, Sir Edward Packenham, advanced within half a mile of
the American works and began a bombardment and cannonade.
The American batteries replied, however, with such spirit, and were
so well sustained by an armed vessel in the river, that the enemy
retired with loss. On the 1st of January, another unsuccessful at-
tempt was made on General Jackson's lines. Between this and the
8th, each army received accessions of force, so that the American
numbers were raised to seven thousand, and the British to twelve
thousand. On the morning of that day Sir Edward Packenham
made a grand assault on^his enemy's lines ; but notwithstanding his
troops were all tried veterans, and those of Jackson raw militia, in-
differently armed, he was repulsed with immense slaughter. The
loss of the Americans was but seventy-one in killed, wounded and
COMMODORE PORTER IN THE PACIFIC. 67
missing. The British lost two hundred and ninety-three killed,
twelve hundred and sixty-seven wounded, and four hundred and
eighty-four prisoners and missing. The mortality among their officers
was excessive, Sir Edward Packenham being among the killed. We
cannot record his death without a reflection on the chances of for-
tune. It had been originally intended that the Duke of Wellington
should lead the expedition against New Orleans ; and, had (this hap-
pened, that great General might have perished in Packenham's place,
and Waterloo never have been won !
The British now hastened to abandon their enterprise. Embark-
ing their troops they retired to Fort Bowyer, which surrendered to
this immense force. Here they remained until the news of peace,
which arrived in the following month. It was doubly fortunate for
the United States that the expedition against New Orleans had failed,
since, tempted by the possession of so great a prize, the enemy might
have found some excuse for setting aside the treaty of Ghent. In
that event a long and sanguinary war on the Mississippi must have
followed, and though America would eventually have triumphed,
because fighting on her own soil, the victory could only have been
purchased by an immense expenditure of blood and treasure. The
battle of New Orleans was the closing act of the drama. It remains
for us only to notice the treaty of Ghent, before bringing this narra-
tive to an end. Yet, preliminary to doing this, let us pass in hasty
review the naval history of 1814.
Towards the close of 1812, Commodore Porter, in the frigate Es-
sex, had sailed from the Delaware. Missing a rendezvous with
Bainbridge, at Brazil, he proceeded, pursuant to a discretion vested
in him, around Cape Horn, and began a war on the British com-
merce in the Pacific. He remained in this quarter of the globe for
more than twelve months, during which he lived at the enemy's ex-
pense, and captured twenty vessels, carrying in all one hundred and
seven guns. The value of these prizes was estimated at two and a half
millions of dollars. At last, in March, 1814, while lying at Valparaiso,
the British frigate Phoebe, carrying thirty-eight guns, and a sloop of war
which had been fitted out expressly to capture Porter, appeared off the
port. In a few days the Essex, attempting to get to sea, carried away
her main-top mast. Unable to return into harbor, she anchored near
the shore. The English ships now attacked her, and placing themselves
out of reach of her cannonades, opened with their long guns, of which
fortunately for them, their armament was composed. Disabled from
manoeuvring, and exposed to a fire he could but feebly return, for
he had but three long twelve-pounders, Porter was finally compelled
68 NAVAL BATTLES.
to surrender. He lost fifty-eight killed, and sixty-six wounded ; the*
British losing but five killed and ten wounded. This battle was
fought on neutral waters, and was therefore a violation of the laws
of nations ; but England has never hesitated to act in a similar man-
ner when her interest required it.
This reverse was followed, however, by numerous victories.
The sloop-of-war Peacock, Captain Warrington, on the 29th of
April, 1814, captured the British brig-of-war Epervier. of about
equal force. In this action the enemy lost eight killed, and fifteen
wounded; the Americans only two wounded. On the 28th of
June, the sloop-of-war Wasp, Captain Blakely, captured the Rein-
deer, of slightly superior force, after one of the most hotly contested
naval engagements of the war. The British lost twenty-five killed,
including their captain, and forty-two wounded ; the Americans lost
five killed, and twenty-one wounded. On the .first of September,
Captain Blakely took the Avon, a sloop-of-war of twenty guns. On
the 23d, he captured a British brig, the Atalanta, which he sent into
the United States. From that day to this, nothing has ever been
heard of the gallant Blakely, or his ship. They probably perished
ill a tempest.
The war was now virtually over, since peace had been concluded
at Ghent, but this being as yet unknown, the naval combats continued.
On the 14th of January, 1815, in gallantly attempting to get out of
New York harbor, Commodore Decatur, in the President, was pur-
sued and captured by the British blockading squadron. In this action
the Americans lost twenty-four killed, and fifty-five wounded. On
the 20th of February, Commodore Stewart, in the Constitution, took
the 'Cyane and Levant the first of thirty-four guns, the last of
twenty-two. The loss of the British was seventy-seven in killed and
wounded ; that of the Americans fifteen. On the 23d of March, the
Hornet, a sloop-of-war, of eighteen guns, commanded by Captain
Biddle, captured the British brig-of-war Penguin, of nineteen guns.
In this action the enemy lost forty-two in killed and wounded ; the
Hornet twelve.
We have already narrated the offer of Russia to mediate between
England and the United Spates ; the refusal of the former to accept
this mediation ; her agreement, however, to appoint commissioners to
treat of a peace ; and the alteration in the powers of the American em-
bassy, to enable them to act under these new circumstances. In the
Spring of 1814, these powers were sent to Europe, and Henry Clay
and Jonathan Russell added to the United States Commissioners
The place of meeting was first appointed at Gottenburg, but finally
TREATY OF PEACE. 69
changed to Ghent. The British plenipotentiaries arrived at the latter
place on the 6th of August, but showed little earnestness fora treaty
until after the news of Chippewa, Lundy's Lane, Plattsburg, and Bal-
timore. On intelligence of these events, foreboding a long, and pro-
bably disastrous war, the high tone of the English Commissioners
lowered, and on the 24th of December, 1814, a treaty was finally
signed. In this document, no notice was taken, of the question
of impressment, which appears a singular circumstance at first sight;
but we have endeavored to explain the reasons for the omission in
the first book of this narrative. The articles of the treaty provided
for the restoration of all possessions taken by either power, during
the war, with the exception of the islands in the Bay of Passama-
quoddy, whose destination was to be referred to arbitrators. Various
questions of boundary were left to be decided in the same way.
Both parties agreed to desist from warfare with all tribes of Indians
with whom they were engaged in hostilities, provided such tribes
ceased warlike operations, on being notified of the treaty. By
another article, England and the United States stipulated to do all
they could to abolish the slave trades. Other provisions were in-
serted in the treaty, but they related chiefly to prizes and prisoners,
and were such as are usual on all like occasions. This treaty was
ratified by England, on the 28th of December, 1814, and by the Uni-
ted States on the 17th of February, 1815. A commercial treaty was
subsequently negotiated between the two countries during the
year 1815.
Thus closed a war in which little was nominally gained, but much
in reality. By it, indeed, the United States consummated their inde-
pendence, which hitherto, so far as regarded England at least, had
not fully existed. In other words, the war of 1812, freed the popu-
lar mind in America, from a sort of provincial reverence for Great
Britain. It also removed that dread of her military prowess which
had descended from the revolutionary epoch, but which was wholly
unbecoming a nation so vigorous as the United States had since
become. It is not too much to say that the military spirit of the
Republic, which has since shone with such brilliancy, had its birth
in the war of 1812.
The early misfortunes of the war, considered in this light, were
not without their benefits. They forced the nation to put forth its
whole strength, and thus developed a capacity, of the existence of
which, even she had been ignorant. From that hour the United
States took a prouder stand among the nations of the earth. From
that hour her flag was respected. More than thirty years hava
70
TREATY OF PEACE.
elapsed since the treaty of Ghent, yet England has never ro
newed her claim of impressment, nor is it probable that sh
ever will.
WILLIAM HULL.
HAT it required the wa.
of 1812 to consummate
our independence, is
proved by the military
operations which led to
the surrender of Detroit.
Our enterprise and saga-
city in commerce was
admitted; but even a
portion of our own citi-
zens laughed at our pre-
tensions to arms. It was
said that we could not withstand the power of Great Britain for six
months. An uneasy feeling of provincial weakness, and a profound
awe of our old enemy possessed, in part, the public mind, and espe-
cially influenced those officers who, by their rank, services and ex-
perience, would naturally be looked to in the emergency of war.
Hence, during the earlier periods of the contest, most of our Generals
regarded any attempt to overthrow the veteran armies of England
va 10 73
74 WILLIAM HULL.
as worse than useless. Mistrusting their troops, but most of all
themselves, they invited defeat by their moral cowardice. In no
other manner can we explain the conduct of General William Hull,
in the surrender of Detroit. With his overpowering force he ought
to have been confident of success. It is now apparent, that if he had
put on a bold front, he would have achieved a glorious triumph ;
opened the war with eclat ; and forced Great Britain, two years
earlier, to listen to terms of peace. He was conquered by his own
fears, not by the prowess of the enemy.
William Hull was born in 1753, and served, with some distinction,
in the War of Independence, as an officer in the continental line.
He was present in several of the hardest fought battles of that period,
and distinguished himself uniformly as a soldier of spirit, industry
and bravery. He rendered himself especially conspicuous on the
glorious field of Saratoga, and afterwards at Stony Point. On his
retirement from the army, Hull settled in Massachusetts, where, in
1796, he was chosen a Major-General of the state militia. Like
others of the officers of the Revolution, he sought and obtained em-
ployment from the Federal Government; for, in 1805, he was ap-
pointed Governor of Michigan Territory. This office he continued
to hold until his disgrace and ruin. When, in 1812, it became
probable that war would be declared with Great Britian, an army,
to be composed chiefly of volunteers and militia, was ordered to be
raised on the north-western frontier, for the two-fold purpose of
holding the Indians in check, and opening the expected contest with
eclat. The command of this force was bestowed on Hull, with the
rank of Brigadier-General in the United States army. The soldiers
mustered at Dayton, in Ohio, on the 1st of June, 1812, and, after a
long and toilsome march, reached the Miami of the Lake on the 30th
of the month. Here Hull received a despatch from the war office,
requesting him to quicken his movements. Accordingly he embarked
his baggage, stores, sick and convalescent, in a vessel bound for De-
troit, continuing his marchr with the main body of the army by land.
Up to this period he had received no intimation of the declaration
of hostilities, a culpable negligence on the part of our government which
has never been properly explained. But the day after the embarka-
tion of the stores, a letter arrived from the Secretary of War, written
under the same date as that to which we have alluded, and which
Hull had received several days before by a special messenger. He
now pressed forward to the River Raisin, alarmed for the safety of
his stores. Here his fears were verified. He learned that the Bri
tish had received intelligence of the declaration of war, at all their
WILLIAM HULL. 75
posts, in advance of himself; and that in consequence his stores had
been captured in passing the fort at Maiden. This disaster, so early
in the campaign, like an ill omen weighed on his spirits from that
hour.
Pursuing his march he soon reached Detroit, and immediately
proceeded, under instructions from the war office, to invade Canada,
Indeed, in the United States, the most sanguine expectations had
already been formed of the result of his expedition ; but these, how-
ever, were not common to all classes ; large numbers, affected by
the feeling we have alluded to, doubted secretly of his success. On
the 12th of July he crossed the river Detroit, and pitched his camp
at Sandwich, with the professed intention of marching against Mai-
den, a post which it was of importance to reduce, since it lay in the
way to intercept all supplies forwarded from the United States.
There can be no doubt, if Hull had pushed forward at once to Mai-
den, that the place would have surrendered. The fort there was in
a most dilapidated condition, nor was it until a week later that it
was rendered defensible ; the garrison numbered but seven hundred
men, of which six hundred were lukewarm militia, and indifferent
savages ; and, to add to the chances of success, the population of
the neighborhood was very generally disaffected, and ready, as were
also the Indians of the vicinity, to join whatever side promised, by
a successful first blow, to gain the ascendancy. Only eighteen
miles interposed between Hull and Maiden. A rapid summer day's
march would have brought him to the gates of his enemy. He had
nearly two men where his opponent had one. Yet he lingered
for three weeks at Sandwich without striking a blow. There are
few things in history as inexplicable as this conduct, and nothing
but the solution we have given can unriddle it.
His behavior appears the more singular when we come to follow
the transactions of these three weeks into detail. During his stay at
Sandwich different detachments penetrated the country sixty miles
into the interior, and everywhere found the inhabitants friendly.
The royal militia at Ahmetsburg, opposite Maiden, was daily desert-
ing. Nor was this all. A party of American soldiers, commanded
by Colonels Cass and Miller, on the 16th of July, assailed a British
outpost at the bridge over the Canard, a river but four miles distant
from Maiden, and drove the picket back upon the fort, where the
fugitives arrived panic-struck, spreading terror and confusion among
the garrison. The enemy, satisfied that Hull was advancing with
all his strength, knew scarcely what to do ; and had there been a
sufficient force at hand to take advantage of this dismay, Maiden.
76 WILLIAM HULL.
i
would have fallen before sunset. Even on the ensuing morning,
when the enemy had partially recovered from his alarm, if Hull had
brought up all his troops, and made a vigorous attack, the place
must have surrendered. But, instead of doing this, he sharply
reprehended Cass and Miller for having exceeded orders in making
'heir attack, and directed that they should immediately return to camp,
unless they were prepared to assume all the responsibility of holding
their position, and that, too, without reinforcements. Perhaps age, as
well as dread of British prowess, had something to do with this con-
duct. To quote the epigramatic remark of another, " he who, in 1777,
would have fought or died without care, in 1S12, with not much of
life left, was fearful of losing that little."
Yet his mind evidently vacillated, and for a space he appeared to
have regained a portion of his old daring. In fact, the strictures of
his younger officers had reached his ears, and he began to show a
disposition for more vigorous measures. He gave out that he
would lead the army directly to Maiden. There seems, indeed, no
reason to doubt the sincerity of his intentions. The artillery for
which he had waited, was now ready. It had been proved by the
affair at Canard, that the British were not invincible. His troops, to
a man, were eager to be led forward. Accordingly, the ammunition
was placed in wagons, the cannon fixed on floating batteries, and
every other preparation for the attack made. But, at this point Hull
stopped, and became suddenly irresolute. He had just received in-
telligence of the fall of Mackinaw, a fort situated on the island of
that name, commanding the passage between Lakes Huron and
Michigan, which had been surprised by the enemy, its commandant
receiving the first intimation of the war on his surrender. This dis-
astrous news was backed by information of the rising of the Cana-
dians and Indians, both of whom, foreseeing Hull's fall in his inac-
tivity, began to take arms for the British. The very thought that
by advancing and sustaining a defeat, his army might become a prey
to the savages filled his mind with horror. He countermanded his
orders, and re-crossed the river to Detroit, on the 7th of August.
He had begun his career in the Canadian territory by a vaunting
proclamation ; he finished it by a temerity which made him the scorn
even of his own troop's. He had commenced with the inhabitants
favorable to him ; he ended by alienating them forever. Far differ
ent was the conduct of General Brock, the British commander in that
region. Receiving intelligence on the 25th of June, of the declara-
tion of war, he hastened to plan the capture of Fort Mackinaw, and
.his scheme having been crowned with success, his audacity in
WILLIAM HULL. 77
creased, and he conceived the idea, not only of driving Hull from
Canada, hut of capturing him within the territories of the United
States. Brock, .indeed, seems to have despised his adversary as much
ae the latter feared Brock. In furtherance of his design, Brock
superseded Colonel St. George in the command of the district, and
appointed in his place Colonel Proctor, a skilful officer, obedient,
active, daring, and unscrupulous, The wisdom of his choice was
soon vindicated, for Hull, having sent out a detachment of two hun-
dred men to open his rear for a convoy, Proctor, ever on the
watch, fell on the party, and totally routed it, with the loss of nearly
seventy men. A second detachment, led by Colonel Miller, was
more successful, defeating the British, and routing their Indian ally,
Tecumseh ; but this body Hull refused to support after its victory,
and finally commanded its return to camp, where it arrived just in
time to be included in the surrender.
As Hull retreated, Brock had advanced, and on the 14th of August,
took post at Sandwich, opposite his adversary's camp. Here he threw
up a battery, Hull refusing to annoy him. In vain the American
officers solicited permission to open a fire on their enemy ; in vain
they desired to be led to the charge, in order to spike his cannon. A
mortal terror of his foe seemed now to have seized Hull. The vision
of defeat constantly pursued him, and the sanguinary tomahawk was
ever present to his fancy. He would, even at this early stage, have
grasped at a truce, as the only hope of safety. " If you will give
permission," said the brave Dalliba, " I will clear the enemy on the
opposite shore from the lower batteries." " Mr. Dalliba," said the
weak old man, " I will make an agreement with the enemy, that if
they will not fire on me, I will not fire on them." Even the success
of Colonel Miller's detachment could not inspire him with hope.
"Nothing has been gained by it but honor," he said despondingly,
" and the blood of seventy-five men has been shed in vain." A per-
son in such a frame of mind, was ill fitted to cope with a General as
enterprising and bold as Brock. It needed the impetuosity of youth
in that crisis, not the drivelling caution of old age. A Croghan
would have saved the day, which a Hull ignominiously lost.
On the 15th, Brock sent a boat across the river, with a summons
of unconditional surrender. It found Hull in a moment of re-action,
and he returned a spirited refusal. The refusal had scarcely been
transmitted, however, before he regretted it. Brock appears to have
lead his adversary's character thoroughly. An enemy, under ordi
nary circumstances, would have taken some precautions, in crossing
a hostile river, with an inferior force ; but though the British Gene-
VII*
78 WILLIAM HULL.
ral had only twelve hundred men, and Hull thirteen hundred and
fifty, the former boldly embarked in broad day, under cover merely
of a slight cannonade. No attempt was made to oppose his landing.
The American leader had already expressed to several of his officers
an opinion that a capitulation would be necessary ; and accordingly
when Brock drew up his troops, and marched to the assault, orders
were sent to the advanced parties not to fire. The command was
heard with indignation. Tears of shame arid rage rose to the eyes
of the men, and the officers talked of marching back and displacing
their commander. But it was now too late.
The position of the army would have warranted a defence against
twice the numbers of the enemy. The fort, a work of regular form
and great solidity, surrounded by a wide and deep ditch, strongly
fraised and palisaded, was defended by two twenty-four pounders,
and a garrison of four hundred artillerists and infantry of the line.
The town was held by three hundred Michigan militia, eager to de-
fend their firesides, and well protected by the houses. Flanking the
approach to the fort, and covered by a high and heavy picket-fence,
were four hundred Ohio volunteers, all expert marksmen, all indig-
nant at the retreat, all athirst for glory ! To add to this, the detach-
ment under Colonel Miller, which we have already spoken of as or-
dered back to camp, was within a mile and a half, stretching for-
ward directly in the enemy's rear, with every nerve strained at
sound of the cannon. Not a man in the American lines but was
anxious for the contest. Only one hesitated, and he the leader !
It is said that surrounded by the ladies of his family, who besought him
with tears to save them from the savages by a timely surrender, he
sat for a while irresolute, blushing with shame at the proposed ca-
pitulation. But at last rising with trembling limbs he ordered
the white flag to be hoisted, the troops to stack their arms, and the
outer positions to be given up. No council of war was summoned.
No advice was asked of a single officer. For once he took all the
responsibility on his own shoulders ; but it was one which covered
his name with eternal infamy !
The capitulation which followed was announced amid the execra-
tions of the troops, the sullen silence of the militia, and the stinging
reproaches of the women of Detroit. It was such a one as might
have been expected from Hull's panic. Everything was given up,
even more than was asked. Not only the territory, in its length and
breadth, was yielded to the enemy, but the supplies at the river Rai
sin, and the absent detachment were included in the surrender. This
was done, moreover, at the suggestion of Hull himself. He seemed
WILLIAM HULL. 75
to be guided by a morbid desire to save blood, and to crave his an-
tagonist's mercy by abandoning everything to him. He engaged that
the militia should not serve again until exchanged. Yet he forgot to
make any stipulation in favor of the Canadians who had joined his
army ; but sacrificed them to the anger of the enemy. In short, the
whole capitulation betrayed the panic in which it had its origin.
Hull's surrender, as one of his cotemporaries remarked, was the re-
sult of " an ignorance that knew not what to do ; of a self-sufficiency
refusing to be instructed; and of a cowardice that in its terrors, lost
all sense of national interest, personal dignity and professional duty."
As for Brock, he could scarcely conceal his surprise at this wonder-
ful success. " I hasten to apprize your excellency," he said, writing
to his superior, Prevost, " of the capture of this very important post.
Twenty-five hundred prisoners have this day surrendered prisoners of
war, and about twenty-five pieces of ordnance have been taken with-
out the sacrifice of of a drop of British blood. I had not more than
six hundred troops, including militia, and about six hundred Indians
to accomplish this service. When I detail my good fortune your
excellency will be astonished."
Yet Hull can scarcely be called a coward in the ordinary sense of
the term. Cowardice is applied in military affairs at least, to physical
rather than to moral terror. There are many men willing to brave
death on the battlefield, who shrink from assuming responsibility in
critical and uncertain emergencies. Hull had fought bravely in the
revolutionary war, and would probably have fought bravely again
as a subordinate. Had he been a Colonel in the north-western army,
with a Jackson at its head, a portion of the inflexible character of
his superior might have been imparted to him. His whole career
proves that though brave enough when he could lean on others,
he was not accustomed to depending on himself. Personally he had
no fear of death ; but he shrank from the responsibility of bringing it
on others. It is probable that if there had been no Indians in the
British army, he might have made a bolder stand, for dread of the
savages was a prevailing feature of that day. But the conviction
that England was invincible, and that it was a waste of blood and
treasure to combat her, seems to have been the leading cause which
produced Hull's surrender. He began the campaign with uneasy
fears of her superiority, and these fears were increased by the bold
and dashing enterprise on Mackinaw. It has been well remarked
that, from the day that fort fell, Hull was conquered.
The news of the capitulation at Detroit was received in the United
States with incredulity at first, and subsequently with curses of rage
80 WILLIAM HULL.
and shame. The astonishment of the people, who had expected to
hear of the conquest of all Canada, could not have been greater. A
re-action from hope to despair was the consequence. Those who
had been most confident became the most desponding. The cry was
that the war would ruin us. The New England states, which had
denounced the invasion of Canada as unjust and irreligious, pointed
to thp late disaster as a rebuke sent by Providence, and exhorted the
militia to refuse crossing the border. Never, perhaps, since the War
of Independence, and in the period immediately preceding the battle
of Trenton, was the public mind so despondent. Bat suddenly news
ame of a victory, so unexpected, so brilliant, so far beyond ordina-
ry calculation, that the nation was flung into transports of joy. We
allude to the capture of the Guerriere. The fall of Detroit now
ceased to call the blush of shame to American cheeks, for it was
more than set off, in the popular estimation, by this triumph. If the
flag of the republic had been trailed in the dust on the north-western
frontier, the red cross of Britain had been struck down on her native
element, the sea !
So great was the public indignation at Hull's surrender, that, for
a while, he was regarded as a traitor, who had sold his country to
the enemy. He had been carried, with his officers, to Montreal,
where the English entered the city with their captives in mock pro-
cession ; but subsequently, having been exchanged, he was brought
to trial before a court-martial, found guilty of cowardice, and con-
demned to be shot. In consideration, however, of his age and
past services, the court recommended him to mercy ; and the Pre-
sident humanely suffered him to live, though not without first strik-
ing his name from the army roll. The charge of treason was
abandoned as unfounded. There is one redeeming feature in the
history of Hull, as connected with this transaction. He made no
attempt to excuse himself before the public, by endeavoringto incul-
pate his officers in his crime ; but stated frankly, and at once, that
the whole blame should rest on himself. In summing up his cha-
racter, we must regard him as a man of weak, though not despicable
intellect ; possessed of mere animal courage, but with little moral
firmness ; as a soldier, good enough for subordinate stations, but to-
tally unequal to a superior command.
Hull endeavored to exculpate himself before the public, by
printing, in 1814, a defence of his conduct. But he did not succeed.
In 1824, he again appeared as an author, by publishing a memoir
of the campaign of 1812, together with a sketch of his revolutionary
serriees. He died in 1825, aged seventy-two.
MA8SACB3 AT THE RtTZB RAISIX
JAMES WINCHESTER
AMES WINCHESTER, a Bri-
gadier-General in the army of
the United States, was born in
Maryland, about the year 1756.
He served during the war of In-
| dependence in a subordinate capacity, and
I subsequently removed to Tennessee, where
', he rose to considerable influence. Possessed
I of an ample fortune, conciliating in manners,
' and ambitious as well as brave, he became
the successful candidate, in 1812, for the office of Brigadier from his
adopted state. His competitor was Andrew Jackson, then compara-
tively an obscure man, out of Tennessee. It is said that the deci-
sion in favor of Winchester was made at the instigation of the mem-
ber of Congress from his district, who feared that if Winchester was
not put into the army, he might become a formidable opponent in the
ensuing election,
11 81
82 JAMES WINCHESTER.
The ignominous surrender of Hull, had, at this period, filled the
whole west with grief and indignation. The best and bravest of her
sons, especially from Kentucky, pressed forward to offer themselves
as volunteers, and within a month from the fall of Detroit, a gallant
army had assembled, breathing vengeance for the late disgrace, and
resolved not to return until the British conquests had been regained.
Two competitors presented themselves for the command of this force.
The first was Winchester, who claimed it as senior Brigadier ; the
other was William Henry Harrison, who had been created a Major-
General by the Governor of Kentucky, expressly to supersede Win-
chester. Harrison was popular with the troops ; Winchester was not.
In the end, the difficulty was adjusted by the Federal Government,
which assigned to Harrison the chief command. Accordingly the
army put itself in motion for a winter's campaign, the Comman-
der-in-chief leading the right wing, and Winchester the left.
Winchester, after relieving Fort Wayne, in September, moved
down to the site of old Fort Defiance, where a new post was estab-
lished, called Fort Winchester. Here, the General, by perseverance
in conciliatory measures, succeeded in gaining the popularity of his
troops. After building a sufficient number of large canoes, to trans-
port their baggage down the Maumee to the Rapids, the volunteers
left this camp in November, and advanced in the direction of the
enemy. The way was long, difficult, and wild. The troops, as yet,
were destitute of winter clothing, though snow was on the ground
and ice forming fast. Provisions soon failed, and for fourteen days
the gallant Kentuckians subsisted on hickory roots, elm bark, and
the beef of a few cattle killed in a state of starvation. At last a
supply of warm clothing was received, and the troops moved for-
ward with re-animated bosoms. It was at this period that an inci-
dent occurred, characteristic of the generosity of the western people.
The volunteers from Kentucky were the first to receive their winter
clothing, and a regiment of regulars remained for a long time after-
wards with no protection against the inclement weather, except
linen fatigue dresses. The brave Kentuckians insisted that this
regiment should be exempt from camp duty, and be allowed to
remain by their fires : and they carried their humane point.
It was on the 8th of January, when the order was issued to march
to the Rapids. The snow lay twenty-seven inches deep on a
dead level, and the men had to harness themselves to sleighs, in
order to transport the baggage. Yet, intense as the cold was, the
everlasting swamps of that region were not hard frozen. Through
incalculable difficulties the troops of Winchester pressed forward,
JAMES WINCHESTER. 89
and in about ten days reached the Rapids. In the meantime a mes-
senger had arrived in camp from the village of Frenchtown, on the
Raisin, a small stream, emptying its waters into the north-west angle
of Lake Erie ; the inhabitants terrified at the approach of the enemy,
solicited aid from Winchester. Accordingly, Colonels Lewis and
Allen, were detached with six hundred men. This little band, on
the 18th of January, 1813, reached the river Raisin, and defeated a
combined English and Indian force, five hundred strong, led by
Major Reynolds, of the Canadian militia. The effect of this victory
was electric. The inhabitants of Frenchtown were filled with exul-
tation, and while two days before they had thought only of escaping
the tomahawk of the savage, now, they considered nothing but in
what way best to pursue the enemy. Nor was the excitement less
at Winchester's camp. Every man there felt as if it had been the
greatest misfortune of his life to be left behind when Lewis marched
on Frenchtown, and all, with one voice, demanded to be led forward
in order to share what there was of glory yet remaining. Little did
they imagine the dark and bloody tragedy in store for them.
On the 21st of January, Winchester put his troops in motion for
the Raisin. The way lay partially through the woods, where the snow
was two feet deep, partially along the borders of the lake, where
the ice almost blocked up the passage ; these were obstructions suffi-
cient to deter ordinary men, but the indomitable spirit of the Ken-
tuckians was not to be disheartened. Winchester reached French-
town on the evening of the 21st; he found Colonel Lewis, who was
an officer of experience in Indian wars, posted in enclosed gar-
dens, with an open field on his right. The reinforcement brought
by Winchester, numbered about three hundred, and was commanded
by Colonel Wells, who being of the regular army, outranked Lewis,
who belonged to the volunteers. Wells demanded to be posted on
the right, as the station due to his superiority in rank ; and to this
claim Winchester yielded, placing Wells, in consequence, in the open
field. Had the advice of Lewis been taken, who recommended that
Wells should be stationed in some gardens on his left, the result
of the day might have been different.
Meanwhile, Proctor having heard at Maiden of the defeat of Rey-
nolds, was hastening forward with all his disposable force. On the
morning of the 22d, just after dawn, he prepared for the assault.
Covering his right with artillery, and his flanks with Indian marks-
men, he advanced at first gallantly, but when he had approached
within musket shot of the pickets, was met by so galling and inces-
sant a fire, that this part of his army fell into confusion. On the left
84 JAMES WINCHESTER.
however, he was more successful. Perceiving the exposed situation
of the detachment under Wells, Proctor hastened to concentrate all
his force against it. A furious conflict ensued on this part of the
field. Sharp and rapid vollies of musketry followed in succession
from either side, over which occasionally rose the whoop of the In-
dians, or the cheers of the brave Kentuckians. But that little band,
unprotected as it was, could not long hold out against overwhelming
numbers. After the action had lasted about twenty minutes, Win-
chester saw that his position was untenable, and ordered Wells to
fall back and gain the enclosures of Lewis. But at the first symptom
of this retreat, the enemy redoubled their exertions, and pressed so
obstinately on the Americans, that the line soon got into disorder.
A panic now seized the men, who had just defended themselves so
bravely, and mistaking the command to fall back, for a direction to
retreat, they rushed to the river, which they crossed on the ice, and
began to fly through the woods, in the direction of the Rapids.
Exhilarated by victory, the British gave pursuit, the chase being led
by the savages, who tasted, in anticipation, the blood of the fugi-
tives. In vain Winchester, riding among the men, endeavored to
rally them ; in vain Colonels Lewis and Allen, hurrying from their
enclosures, with a company of fifty men each, struggled to check the
torrent of defeat. Nothing would avail. Allen fell bravely fighting
in the desperate attempt ; while Winchester, with Lewis and other
officers, were taken prisoners. And now the rout became a mas-
sacre. On sped the panic-struck troops, on came the Indians, like
tigers who had tasted blood. Some fell by merciful rifle-balls, some
were reserved for the hatchet, some were scalped alive, and left to
perish by degrees. Of the whole of that chivalrous band which had
left the Raisin with Winchester two days before, all were slaugh-
tered, except forty who were taken prisoners, and twenty-eight who
were miraculously saved. To this melancholy catalogue must be
added the two companies under Lewis and Allen, who had made
the sortie we have spoken of in favor of their companions.
We have already seen that Proctor had been repulsed from the
enclosures in the earlier part of the day. In that abortive attack he
had lost one-fourth of his men, and would probably have now been
glad to retire, satisfied with his partial victory, if he had not heard
that Winchester was among the prisoners. His fertile mind immedi-
ately suggested a stratagem by which he might yet, perhaps, capture
the whole American force. Sending for Winchester, he enlarged on
his large number, on the ruthlessness of his savages, and on the
impossibility of the remaining portion of Winchester's command being
JAMES WINCHESTER. 85
able to make good their defence. " I can set fire to every house in
the village," he said, " and this my duty will compel me to do.
Think of the innocent women and children who will be massacred
by the Indians in consequence. You alone can avert this terrible
calamity. Order your subordinate to surrender, and these miseries
will be spared."
Instead of replying indignantly to this brutal threat, Winchester
suffered himself to be deceived by Proctor's sophistry, or by his own
humanity, and sent word to the garrison that it was his advice they
should surrender. The message, however, was basely perverted,
for when Proctor's aid-de-camp was introduced to Major Madison,
on whom the command had now devolved by the capture of Colonel
Lewis, the latter was informed that " he and his followers had been
surrendered prisoners of war, by General Winchester, to the arms
of his Brittannic Majesty." But Madison, refusing to acknowledge
the right of a captured General to make a capitulation for his troops,
declared his determination to perish where he stood, with his gallant
Kentuckians, unless more favorable terms should be granted. " We
prefer selling our lives as dear as possible," he said, " rather than
be massacred in cold blood." At last a solemn stipulation was en-
tered into by Proctor, that all private property should be respected ;
that sleds should be sent, next morning, to remove the sick and
wounded to Ahmetsburg, opposite Maiden ; that, meantime, a guard
should be left to protect them from the savages ; and that the side
arms of the officers should be restored to them at Maiden.
On these conditions, Major Madison surrendered, though reluc-
tantly. He would still have rejected all proposals for a capitulation,
and held out to the last extremity, but for a scarcity of ammunition.
That night the prisoners, about six hundred in number, were marched
to Ahmetsburg, where they arrived on the evening of the 23rd.
Here they were penned up in a muddy and confined wood-yard,
exposed to a pelting rain, without sheds, tents, or blankets, and with
scarcely sufficient fire to keep them from freezing. The men, on
first hearing of their surrender, had broken their muskets across the
pickets in rage ; and now they spent the night in muttering execra
tions on their captors for this inhuman treatment. But their fate
was merciful compared to that of the sick and wounded who had
been left behind. These, by the terms of the capitulation, were to
have been conveyed to Ahmetsburg in sleds, on the morning of
the 23rd. But instead of the sleighs came two hundred savages,
fainted in the most hideous manner, who, rushing upon the houses
where the wounded lay, first plundered them of every valuable, and
VIII
86 JAMES WINCHESTER.
then surrounding the habitations, set them on fire. As the flames
roared and crackled to the sky, the savages danced around with
yells of fiendish delight. Some of the victims, staggering from their
beds, endeavored to fly. but their merciless enemies drove them back
with exulting whoops. When the fire smouldered into ashes, the
bones of sixty-four brave men lay charred among the embers.
Nothing can excuse Proctor's agency in this a,ffair. He broke his
plighted word in not detailing a sufficient guard to protect the
wounded. Moreover, one of his own officers, a half-breed named
Elliot, on being told that most of the American Surgeons had been
killed, and that there were not sufficient to attend to the wounded,
answered inhumanly, and with prophetic meaning, "the Indians
will be found excellent Doctors." The rage and despair of the pri-
soners at Ahmetsburg, all of whom had left friends, and some
brothers behind, when they heard of this massacre, exceeded all
bounds. In this disastrous battle, and in the bloody scene that fol-
lowed, so many of the best sons of Kentucky were sacrificed, that it
was said the whole commonwealth was plunged into mourning.
The sacrilegious neglect of the American dead was another part of
the conduct of Proctor, as disgraceful, though not, perhaps, as crimi-
nal as his perfidy to his prisoners. The corpses were formally de-
nied the rights of sepulture, and left a prey to the hogs and dogs of
the village. Some time afterwards friendly hands were found to lay
them piously in the ground ; but when the American army passed
that way, in the ensuing summer, the relics were again seen ex-
posed. They were buried once more, and thenceforth slept in peace.
For his success in defeating Winchester, Proctor was made a Briga-
dier-General ; but not a word of disapproval was uttered by his
government in reference to the massacre.
The history of Winchester, after this unfortunate defeat, ceases to
be of interest. He survived several years, respected in private life
for his mild and generous heart ; but suffering, in his public capacity,
under the odium of this disgraceful and fatal repulse. His career is a
warning to popular governments, that & man without real capacity
for command, should never, whatever his influence or fortune, be
entrusted with the lives of his fellow men.
ZEBULON MONTGOMERY PIKE.
'EBULON MONTGOM-
ERY PIKE, a Brigadier
General in the United States
army, was born at South
Trenton, in New Jersey, on
the 5th of January, 1779. He was
an officer of industry, ability and pro-
mise, though he perished at too early
an age to fulfil all the high expectations
that had been formed of him. He was
a strict disciplinarian, and adroit in the
management of men. His courage was bold and dashing. Fond of
his profession, ambitious of distinction, and with many qualities to
ensure success, it was the melancholy burden of his thoughts, as he
lay on his untimely death-bed, that he perished too soon for glory !
87
88 ZEBULON MONTGOMERY PIKE.
Pike was destined for the army from his earliest years, his fathei
being a Major in the regular service. He served, when quite a
youth, as a cadet in his parent's corps, and on the 3rd of March,
1799, received his first commission, that of an Ensign, in the second
regiment of infantry. In little more than a year he was promoted
to the rank of First-Lieutenant. His assiduity soon attracted the
notice of his superiors, and in 1805, he was appointed, by General
Wilkinson, to command an expedition to explore the head waters of
the Mississippi. The detachment, consisting of a Serjeant, a Corpo-
ral, and seventeen privates, beside Pike himself, left St. Louis on
the 9th of August, 1805, and was absent eight months and twenty-
two days. During this period it visited numerous tribes of Indians
on the upper Missouri, and was the first to carry the flag of the Uni-
ted States into those remote regions. Pike found the savages gene-
rally suspicious .of this republic, though acknowledging the prowess
of its citizens in war ; and it soon became evident to him that for
these opinions they were indebted to the intrigues of the English
traders in that direction. During the war of 1812, the sentiments,
thus sown, bore bitter fruits, some of these very savages marching
fifteen hundred miles to join in the contest against us.
The admirable manner in which Pike executed his task in this
expedition, induced Wilkinson to despatch him on an exploration to
the head waters of the Arkansas and Red Rivers. The primary ob-
ject of the enterprise, as appears from his instructions, was to restore
certain Osage captives, recently rescued from the Potawatamies, to
their homes on the Grand Osage : the second was to effect a perma-
nent peace between the Kansas and Osage nations ; and the third
was to establish a good understanding with the Yanctons, Tetans,
or Camanches. If there were other, and more secret purposes of
the expedition, they have never come to light. Pike started from
St. Louis on the 15th of July, 1806. His party consisted of a Second-
Lieutenant, a Sergeant, two Corporals, sixteen privates, and an in-
terpreter. A professional gentlemen, Dr. Robinson, accompanied
the party as a volunteer. The Indians carried out by the expedi-
tion, were fifty-one Osages and Pawnees.
The enterprise proved disastrous. Near the head of the Arkansas
River, Pike lost his way, and wandered about for a month without
gaining a day's journey on his original encampment. The winter set
in severely ; the snow lay thick on the ground ; provisions failed ;
and many of the men became frost-bitten, and had to be left on the
road. At last Pike reached what he supposed to be the Red River,
and began to erect a fortification there, his intention being to leave
ZEBTTLON MONTGOMERY PIKE, 89
four or five men in this place, when completed, and, with the
remainder, to return for those of his party he had been compelled to
abandon. In a few days, however, he was visited by a party of
Spanish dragoons, the commander of which, first informing him that
he was within the boundaries of New Mexico, and on the Rio del
Norte instead of the Red River, ended by civilly requesting his com-
pany at Santa Fe, which was but two days march distant. Under
the circumstances there was no resource but to accede to a request,
which, if refused, would evidently be enforced as a command. Ac-
cordingly Pike accompanied the officer to Santa Fe, first stipulating
that a party should remain at the fort, in order to await the men for
whom he had sent back. On reaching Santa Fe, the cause of his-
arrest was explained, in the notoriety which Burr's exploded designs
on Mexico had attained. The Spanish Governor had, at first, sup-
posed Pike to be one of Burr's emissaries. On discovering his mis-
take, however, he allowed Pike to return to the United States, though
not until he had taken away his papers. Pike's homeward journey
was pursued through what is now Texas. In the ensuing year, he
published the results of his observations, in a work entitled, " Geo-
graphical, Statistical, and General Observations on the Interior
Provinces of New Spain ;" and shortly after, made a report to the
government of his expedition up the Mississippi. The most flatter-
ing testimonials, from both the Secretary of War and the President,
were received by him for his conduct in these explorations. He
appears indeed to have possessed every required qualification except
being a man of science.
After his return from Mexico, Pike was raised to the rank of Cap-
tain ; in 1809, to that of Major ; and in 1810, to that of Lieutenant-
Colonel. When the War of 1812 broke out, he was advanced to
the post of Colonel. In the ensuing year, when General Dearborn
planned his attack on York, the command of the expedition was
given to Pike, who had meantime been nominated for Brigadier. It
was on the 27th of April, 1813, that the tragical assault was made.
The defenders numbered about eight hundred, half regulars, and
half militia and Indians, commanded by General Sheaffe. An ad
verse wind prevented the landing of the Americans where they had
intended, and accordingly it became necessary to pass some thick
woods before reaching the works. These woods were occupied by
a strong party of the enemy, who poured in a destructive fire as the
troops approached the shore. The first who landed were the rifle-
men under Major Forsythe. One of their number, an especial
favorite, falling almost as soon as he sprang on the beach, the whole
VIII* 12
90
ZEBULON MONTGOMERY PIKE.
corps became inflamed with a thirst for revenge, which lent the most
terrible effect to their fire. Immediately taking covert behind the
trees, they picked off the troops of the British one by one, Forsythe,
it is said, passing up and down the line behind his men, and point-
ing out those who presented the surest mark. The slaughter was
terrible. Yet the enemy resolutely held his ground, until Pike, with
the main body, had effected a landing.
Quickly forming his men, Pike dashed on in pursuit. After
threading the wood we have spoken of, he came to an open ground,
at the further end of which appeared the redoubts of the enemy.
One of these soon yielded to the impetuous attack of the Americans.
But the other holding out, it was resolved to halt the column until
a battery could be established of some light artillery, beneath the
cover of the conquered redoubt. The troops being fatigued, the
leading regiments were allowed to seat themselves on the ground,
Pike himself, surrounded by his staff, imitating their example. In
this position they were awaiting the effect of the artillery, when sud-
DEATH OF GENERAL PIKE.
denly an explosion occurred, shaking earth and sky. Instantly
every man looked around in horror. The explosion was seen to
proceed from a magazine of the enemy, a huge stone building,
ZEBULON MONTGOMERY PIKE. 91
which had caught fire hy some untoward accident. The Americans
were all within a compass of a few hundred yards, right in the track
of this terrible volcano. An instant or two elapsed between the
stunning report and the fall of the destructive missiles. The sight
is described as having been awful. At first a jet of flame was seen
shooting to the sky, followed by thick puffs of white smoke, from
the midst of which huge fragments of the wall went spinning aloft,
and then fell, thick and fast, over the field around. The gigantic
masses, as they poised a moment before descending, seemed like
some black cloud obscuring the heavens : then, with a rushing sound,
they came to the earth, bruising, maiming and destroying wherever
they touched. In some places the fragments fell with such force as
to bury themselves several feet in the ground. Over three hundred
individuals, by that fearful descent, were hurried into eternity, or
else wounded or maimed for life.
Pike was one of the sufferers. Seeing the huge masses in the air,
and knowing that escape was impossible, he did not attempt to rise,
but stooped his body forward instinctively. A piece of the wall
struck him on the back as he bent in this position, and gave him a
mortal injury. Just as he was lifted from the ground, he heard a
shout, and inquiring what it was for, was told the enemy's flag
was coming down. He smiled proudly on hearing this. He lived
but a few hours, just long enough to be taken on board the fleet.
Here he desired the captured banner might be placed under his
head. He died thinking of his wife and children, and regretting that
his career was cut so short. His wife was a woman who shared all
his ambitious longings, and would have incited him to glory, if he
had been less athirst for it himself. She heard of her loss with the
fortitude of a Roman matron, and lived thereafter to cherish his
memory, as a sacred deposit.
The death of Pike, and the explosion of the magazine, threw the
Americans into momentary confusion, which General Sheaffe availed
himself of to abandon his fortifications, leaving the authorities of
York to make the best terms of surrender they could. Offers of
capitulation were immediately made, but while they were being
entertained, the enemy set fire to a public vessel on the stocks, and
to a magazine of military and naval stores. The loss of the British
in this affair was five hundred, in killed, wounded and prisoners ;
that of the Americans, in killed and wounded, three hundred and
twenty, and most of these were in consequence of this explosion.*
Pike was but thirty-four at the period of his death. His loss was
ZEBULON MONTGOMERY PIKE.
deeply regretted by the nation, which had formed a high estimate
of his ability. In the army, but especially in his own regiment, the
grief for his premature fate was long and heart-felt.
HENRY DEARBORN.
ENRY DEARBORN, a Major-General
in the army of the United States,' was
another example of a revolutionary of-
ficer who failed to maintain his old re-:
putation. But as there are grades in
unfitness as in other things, Dearborn
has the merit of being less incapable
than either Wilkinson or Hull. His
fault was that of all the earlier Gene-
rals of the war of 1812. Age had
damped his ardor, and weakened his energy : instead of being the first
to lead, he was content to delegate this task to others. Forty years had
93
94 HENRY DEARBORN.
completely changed his character. In 1776 he had been distinguished
for promptitude and fire ; in 1812 he was remarkable only for inac-
tivity.
Dearborn was a native of New Hampshire, where he was born in
the year 1751. He received as good an education as the colonies
could then afford, and at the age of manhood, settled as a practi-
tioner of medicine at Portsmouth, in his native state. Among one
of the most ardent supporters of the colonial rights, he did not hesi-
tate, when the trial of arms came, to devote his sword and life to his
country ; and on hearing of the battle of Lexington, marched, with
sixty volunteers, to Cambridge, a distance of sixty miles, within
twenty-four hours. He was present at the battle of Bunker Hill,
where he held a Captain's commission, in Stark's regiment. He sub-
sequently accompanied Arnold to Canada, where he was captured,
and at first closely confined ; but was afterwards liberated on parole,
and, in March, 1777, exchanged. He was now attached to the
army of Gates, with the rank of Major, and shared, with his compa-
nions, the glories of Saratoga. In the campaign of 1778, he distin-
guished himself at the battle of Monmouth, in a manner to win the
personal commendation of Washington. In 1779, he formed one of
the expedition, under Sullivan, against the Six Nations. His milita-
ry career in the War of Independence, closed at the siege of York-
town.
After the conclusion of peace, Dearborn returned to private life.
On the elevation of Washington to the Presidency, he was appointed
marshal of the District of Maine. Subsequently he was twice elected
to Congress from Maine. In 1801, on the formation of the Jefferson
administration, he was appointed Secretary of War, an office he held
until 1809. He was rewarded, on his retirement, with the collector-
ship of the port of Boston, at that time the most lucrative post, of
its character, in the country. When the war with Great Britain was
declared, he was made a Major-General, partly on account of his in-
fluence, and partly for his reputation earned during the revolutionary
struggle. His first operation in the autumn of 1812, signally failed.
But, as the army was as yet only partially prepared for action, bet-
ter auspices were drawn for the future.
The plan of campaign for 1813, on the northern frontier, was
sketched by General Armstrong, the Secretary of War. He pro-
posed the reduction of Kingston and York, on Lake Ontario, and of
Fort George, on the Niagara, in the order named. It was the opin-
ion of Armstrong that the most important of the posts, Kingston,
ought first to be attacked, since its fall would paralyze the operations
HENRY DEARBORN. U
)f the British throughout Canada ; and in arriving at this decision it
must be confessed, the Secretary of war evinced more than his usual
judgment. The force of Dearborn was thirteen thousand men, and
that of the enemy but three thousand, so that if numbers could se-
cure victory, the Americans had nothing to fear. Besides, Chauncey
was on the lake, with a fleet, ready to co-operate with Dearborn.
On a consideration, however, of the Secretary's plan, Dearborn and
Chauncey decided to assail the weakest point of the enemy first,
thus displaying another instance of that exaggerated dread of the
English armies, and a mistrust in our own, which led to most of the
disasters during the first two years of the war. Accordingly the ex-
pedition against York was undertaken.
This post fell into the hands of the Americans after a feeble at-
tempt at resistance. It was here that the brave Pike lost his life by
the explosion of a magazine ; and in consequence of this calamity a
portion of the enemy escaped, for Dearborn not being present on the
field, and Colonel Peirce, who succeeded Pike, having received no
orders, a pursuit was not undertaken. The next movement was
against Fort George, which was abandoned by its garrison on the
approach of Dearborn. But here also the inactivity, or want of
foresight of the American General, permitted the escape of the ene-
my. If, instead of concentrating his whole force on the water-side
of the British defences, he had sent a sufficient detachment across the
Niagara, below Queenstown, he could have cut off all escape. Even
when, on the flight of the garrison, Colonel Winfield Scott, on his
own responsibility, gave pursuit, Dearborn recalled him, and thus
allowed the enemy to secure a safe retreat. Afterwards, by taking
the wrong road, he lost two days in following the foe to Burlington
heights ; and finally closed this series of blunders by detaching an
insufficient force, which was attacked at Stony Brook, in the night
of the 5th of June, and completely defeated. These failures the pro-
phetic eye of Pike had foreseen before his death. " Our country is
again doomed to defeat," he is reported to have said, " if the opera-
tions now meditated by the General are attempted to be accom-
plished."
Dearborn's want of success, during the twelve months he had been
in command, had now led to a very general demand on the part of
the public, that he should be recalled. Not only had he signally
failed in his attempt on Canada in the autumn of 1812, but after-
wards, when full time had been allowed to discipline his troops, and
when the government had given him the most unlimited discretion-
ary powers, his campaign had presented only a series of disasters.
96 HENRY DEARBORN.
With an army never less than thirty-five hundred men, he had been
foiled by an enemy rarely numbering a thousand. After the defeat
of Chandler and Winder at Stony Brook, Dearborn had withdrawn
his forces to Fort George ; and the enemy, though much inferior in
numbers, emboldened by these signs of fear, had advanced in the
direction of that post, in order, as the British General wrote in his
despatches, "to circumscribe the range of the American troops,
and compel them to live on their own resources." Aroused by
these encroachments, Dearborn determined to send out a detach-
ment to attack the enemy. A last opportunity to redeem him-
self was here presented; but he wanted either the sagacity or
energy to avail himself of it. If he had despatched Scott and Miller,
both known to be active and able officers, with fifteen hundred men
each, he might have crushed the British ; but instead of this he chose
Colonel Boerstler, an officer proved by no particular service, with
but five hundred and forty men, to operate, beyond sustaining dis-
tance, against a rapid, practised and vehement foe. The conse-
quences were such as might have been foreseen. Boerstler was
surrounded and compelled to surrender.
When intelligence of this last disaster reached the city of Washing-
ton, Congress was in session, and an informal committee was immedi-
ately appointed, to wait on the President and solicit the recall of Dear-
born. Madison complied, and the order was despatched that day. In
consequence of this removal, the operations of the northern army were
suspended, for General Boyd, the second in command, was ordered
to do nothing until the arrival of Wilkinson, Dearborn's successor.
In justice to the retiring General it must be stated that he had been
ill for more than a month before his removal ; that his army was
becoming rapidly thinned by sickness ; and that he had been left
almost entirely without regimental officers. Moreover, about this
period, the command of the lake was temporarily lost. But Dear-
born, nevertheless, appears to have been wanting in the requisites of
a successful General ; for he displayed a torpor and indecision, which,
whether resulting from age or natural incapacity, produced the most
unfortunate results.
After his recall, Dearborn was ordered to assume command of the
military district of New York city. His subsequent life presents few
incidents worthy of record here. In 1822, during the administration
of Monroe, he was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary to Portugal ;
but he did not long hold this honorable post, being recalled, two
years later, at his own request. He survived only a short period,
dying in 1829, at the age of seventy-eight
JAMES WILKINSON.
AMES WILKINSON, a
Major-General in the army of the
United States, had distinguished
himself in the revolutionary war, but
failed in the present contest to maintain
his former reputation. He was, in fact,
disqualified for a supreme command,
though capable of discharging with
credit the duties of a subordinate. The
disgraceful termination of the attempt on
Canada, in the autumn of 1813, is to be
Attributed chiefly to him. At the head of the most imposing force
which had yet been concentrated on the northern frontier, he had
ix 13 97
98 JAMES WILKINSON.
advanced to a convenient distance of Montreal, when suddenly he
abandoned his design, and retired to French Mills, to the chagrin of
all his abler officers. His excuse for this conduct, was the want of
concert on the part of General Hampton. But this is an insufficient
justification. The battle of Williams burg, in which the enemy had
met a check, left the road to Montreal comparatively open, and it needed
only a bold and vigorous push to carry that important place. But
there was nothing heroic about Wilkinson. He was a gentleman of
polished address, and a methodical officer, but not a great General.
He was fitted to follow rather than lead. His pompous manner, his
affectation of military knowledge, and his jealous spirit, all marked
the second-rate man, attempting to conceal his deficiencies by noise
and bluster.
Wilkinson was born in Maryland, in the year 1757. He was
educated for a physician, and began his medical career in 1775, but
the War of Independence breaking out in that year, he yielded to a
partiality he had always experienced for the military life, and repaired
to the camp at Cambridge. In March, 1776, he was rewarded with
a Captain's commission. He served in Canada under Arnold, and
subsequently in New Jersey, under Washington. At first, his
advance was rapid. In January, 1777, he was elevated to the rank
of Lieutenant-Colonel. When General Gates was appointed to the
northern army, he offered Wilkinson the post of Aid-de-camp, a
flattering tender, which the young soldier accepted, resigning for that
purpose his commission in the line. Appointed Adjutant-General
by his patron, he served with industry and ability, until the surren-
der of Burgoyne, when he was despatched by Gates to inform Con-
gress of the capitulation. Wilkinson stopped so long at Reading, on
his way to Philadelphia, that the felicitous news reached the capi-
tol before him ; but notwithstanding his laggard pace, Congress was
so delighted with the intelligence, that he was rewarded with the rank
of Brigadier. A keen rebuke, however, was administered by Roger
Sherman, who, in seconding the motion, proposed to amend it, by
voting the messenger a whip and a pair of spurs. When Gates
became President of the Board of War, Wilkinson was appointed
his Secretary. Having been implicated in the cabal against Wash-
ington by the conduct of Gates, a rupture occurred between the
patron and pupil, and Wilkinson, in consequence, resigned his
post as Secretary, as also his brevet of Brigadier. He was, however,
subsequently appointed Clothier-General of the army.
At the close of the war, Wilkinson settled in Kentucky, where he
embarked in trade; but soon becoming disgusted with commerce, he
JAMES WILKINSON. 99
returned to the army, and was employed on the frontier. When the
purchase of Louisiana was effected, under Jefferson's administration,
Wilkinson was joint commissioner with Governor Clairborne, to
receive that territory from the French authorities. He was now in
command of the southern department. A few years later, Burr
conceived the design of invading Mexico, and Wilkinson, still at tha
head of the southern department, appears to have lent, at first, a
favorable ear to the dazzling scheme. Subsequently, however,
induced either by patriotism or interest, he refused to give his coun-
tenance to the enterprise, and became, indeed, one of the most active
and even virulent witnesses against the prisoner. In this conduct,
there is such an absence of magnanimity, as leaves no very favora-
ble impression on the mind of the historian. Nothing, in fact, can
vindicate Wilkinson from the imputation of having sought his own
personal advancement by the ruin of his former friend. He was well
acquainted with the real intentions of Burr, and had been a party
to them ; but when the popular cry was raised, he became one of
the first, not only to desert his late associate, but to seek his destruc-
tion. The most partial eulogists of Wilkinson's behaviour in this
affair, are forced, to admit, that either he shared in Burr's ambitious
plans, or else played the spy on him from the beginning.
Wilkinson continued in command of the southern department
until 1811. In 1813, he was ordered to the northern frontier, to
assume the chief command of the army there, made vacant by the
recall of General Dearborn. The failure of the preceding campaign
had led to the resignation of the Hon. Wm. Eustis, Secretary of War,
and the advancement of General Armstrong to that place. The new
officer had no sooner assumed his post, than he planned a bold and
comprehensive campaign against Canada, the reduction of Kingston,
the enemy's chief depot, being laid down as the first step to be
taken, and preliminary to the conquest of Montreal and Quebec.
The campaign was to have been opened on Lake Ontario, by the
first of April, or as soon as that lake was free from ice ; and on tha
St. Lawrence by the *1 5th of May, or earlier if the navigation would
permit. Had this plan been vigorously carried out, there is little
doubt but that the whole of Canada would have fallen. But there
seems to have been a lamentable imbecility, not only in those
entrusted with its execution, but in the Secretary of War himself,
who, later in the season, repaired to the scene of action in person.
In the early part of the spring, General Dearborn was in command
of the northern department, but instead of opening the campaign by
an attack on Kingston, he moved against York, where victory
100
JAMES WILKINSON.
afforded no reward commensurate with the trouble. Had he assailed
Kingston at once, it is now apparent that he would have succeeded,
and in so doing, struck a deadly blow to the British in Canada. His
mistake at the beginning of the campaign, led to the inactivity of his
army during the whole summer, for in July he was recalled, and
by direction of the Secretary of War, every thing was left to await
the arrival of Wilkinson, his successor. Meantime, however, Arm
strong renewed the original plan of the campaign, which, on Wilkin
son's arrival, was communicated to that General. The seizure of
Kingston, and the destruction of the British fleet there, the Secretary
said would give Wilkinson command of Lake Ontario, and strike at
the vital parts of the enemy. In conjunction with this enterprise,
the Secretary proposed a movement from Lake Champlain on the
St. Lawrence, and the troops destined for this service, about four
thousand men, were entrusted to General Hampton.
Wilkinson arrived at Albany in the early part of August, 1813,
and despatched, on the 16th of that month, his first orders to Hamp
ton. The latter General, who had imagined his command an inde-
pendent one, was jealous of this new superior, and immediately
JAMES WILKINSON. 101
tendered his resignation, but the Secretary succeeded in persuading
him to retain his post until the close of the campaign, though
not in wholly eradicating his disgust. The consequence was that the
operations, which ought to have opened in the spring, and which
were now about to begin at last in the autumn, commenced with a
feud between the General-in-chief and his second in command, an
event generally ominous of failure. However, the campaign was
at once begun. Wilkinson arriving at Sackett's Harbor, hastened
to call a council of war. At this assembly it was resolved to ren-
dezvous the troops at that post, and after a bold feint on Kingston,
to slip down the St. Lawrence, and in conjunction with General
Hampton, capture Montreal. The army at Wilkinson's disposal,
was already seven thousand four hundred men, which, in a month,
could be raised to nine thousand. This, it was believed, would outnum-
ber the disposable force of the enemy,and ensure certain success to the
contemplated campaign. In order that nothing might be left undone to
obtain victory, the Secretary of War transferred his department from
Washington to Sackett's Harbor, believing that his presence at the scene
of operations would add to the celerity of the army, and compose the
jealousies of Wilkinson and Hampton. But in this expectation, as
might have been foreseen, he signally failed. His appearance
rendered Wilkinson as jealous of the Secretary, as Hampton had
before been jealous of Wilkinson. Where there should have been
but one controlling head, there were now three. A general distrust
between the Generals was the consequence. As a late writer has
powerfully said, " that deplorable campaign was a monster with
three heads, biting and barking at each other, with a madness which
destroyed them all, and disgraced the country. Discord was a leprosy
in the very marrow of the enterprise, worse than all its other cala-
mities. Armstrong was on good terms both with Wilkinson and Hamp-
ton till it failed, but thenceforth the enmity became as bitter
between him and both of them, as between the two themselves."
On the 21st of October, Wilkinson at last set his army in motion :
Commodore Chauncey, having, as a preparatory measure chased the
English fleet into harbor, and obtained command of the lake. The
troops were embarked at Grenadier Island, near Sackett's Harbor,
in three hundred boats, under convoy of a part of Chauncey 's squad-
ron, but more than a fortnight elapsed before they cleared the lake,
and reached the St. Lawrence. This delay is attributable to the
advanced season. Now was seen the error of putting off the cam-
paign to this late period of the year. Autumn proved particularly
inclement; there was almost constant rain, with occasional snow
.IX
102 JAMES WILKINSON.
storms ; while the gales that swept that inland sea, lashed it into short,
wild waves, that were more dangerous even than those of the
ocean. One third of the boats were wrecked in this perilous navi-
gation. The troops, crowded into the remainder, and unprovided
with proper clothing, were continually drenched to the skin. To add to
all provisions were scanty and unwholesome. In consequence, large
numbers, both of officers and men, fell sick, and the spirits of the rest
became materially impaired. Nor did the enemy omit any oppor-
tunity to harass and distress the expedition, but frequently assailed
it from their batteries, which were posted at various points along
the shore. At last, on the 6th of November, the Americans arrived
opposite Prescott. The main body of the troops was now debarked,
only a small portion being left with General Brown, to whom was
entrusted the charge of carrying the fleet of boats past the English
fortification. This task, that daring and skilful General effected
in the night, without loss, though in the midst of a furious cannon-
ade. The army and its flotilla having once more united, the expe-
dition advanced on its way. At Ogdensburg, Wilkinson heard from
Hampton, who expressed his conviction that the campaign was at
an end, and renewed his desire to resign. Wilkinson, in reply,
announced his present position, declared his intention of marching
on Montreal, and demanded Hampton's co-operation to carry out
the objects of the campaign. The progress of the main army down
the St. Lawrence was now continued.
During the whole voyage Wilkinson had been ill, and for most of
the time confined to his bed. Secluded in his boat from the view of
the men, his own spirits appear to have sunk as fast as theirs, if the
diary which he kept of the proceedings of the army, is any criterion
of his feelings. As early as the 24th of October, he writes in the
most despondent strain. With each succeeding day, this deplorable
want of confidence seems to have increased. Every new storm, every
additional obstruction added to the depression of the General, when they
should have been only increased inducements to renewed enterprise
and perseverance. If Greene, when at the head of the southern
army in the Revolution, had given way to the thousand difficulties
that surrounded him, the Carolinas never would have been liberated ;
but, though suffering for most of the time under disease, and though
pursued by infinitely greater obstructions than Wilkinson, he
manfully bore up against all, and came out victorious. The test of
military genius is to conquer in spite of fate. Second-rate men
always fail in difficult emergencies, but the first order of minds
succeed by bending destiny to their will. Napoleon was never
JAMES WILKINSON. 103
greater than in his Italian campaign, where, nevertheless, he was
always inferior in force to the Austrians. Washington, when retreat-
ing across the Jerseys with three thousand men, while the British
with twenty thousand, thundered in pursuit, is one of the noblest
spectacles in military history, because he was conqueror in defiance
of odds. Neither the sickness of Wilkinson, nor the inclemency of
the weather can be admitted as a justification of his failure. The
fact was, he held a post above his ability. He was unfitted to com-
mand.
We have said that the British had omitted no occasion to annoy
the Americans. Undismayed by the superior numbers of the inva-
ders, they had attacked, whenever an opportunity offered, with a
bravery and resolution which extorts admiration. Indeed, the effect
of the preceding campaign had not worn off from the public mind
in either country. The British, were, in consequence, always con-
fident of victory ; the Americans, distrustful of their own powers
and expecting defeat. On the 9th of November, a fleet of the
enemy's gun boats, commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Morrison,
cut off a large quantity of provisions and stores, with two pieces of
ordnance, from the rear of the Americans. Flushed with this success,
Morrison on the following day pressed so close upon the invaders, that
the Brigade under Boyd, which was nearest to him, turned and
gave him battle. Had Wilkinson been a General of spirit, he would
have concentrated all his forces, and crushed his assailant. But
reduced by illness to spend the day on his pillow, he was so
thoroughly destitute of the necessary energy, that, on hearing the
distant cannonade, he merely enquired how the day was going, and
was contented when he heard his troops had not been utterly
defeated. The battle was thus left wholly to General Boyd, who
had but sixteen hundred men, while his adversary commanded
a force at least equal, if not superior. The conflict raged for two
hours, and was obstinately contested. Both the British and Ameri-
can Generals exhibited the greatest skill and intrepidity, so much so,
indeed, that the English commander paid his adversary the compli-
ment of declaring that the battle was in these respects, the hand-
somest affair of the war. In the end, the British were driven from
their positions, with a loss to the Americans of one hundred killed,
and two hundred and thirty-six wounded, the enemy losing more
by our account, less by their own. The desperate character of the
fight is shown by the loss, which, in Boyd's brigade, amounted to
one-fourth of the whole number. Had this detachment of the
Americans been sustained by the whole disposable force of our
104 JAMES WILKINSON.
army, there can be no doubt but that a glorious and decisive victory
would have been won. This battle has been known as that oi
Williamsburg.
Wilkinson had now achieved three-fourths of his journey. His
forces were greatly superior to those of the enemy; the road to
Montreal was comparatively open ; and the season was approach-
ing which, notwithstanding the cold, is more favorable to military
operations in Canada than either the autumn or spring. His
advance was commanded by General Brown, a bold and gallant
officer, who felt confident of the success of the campaign. Serving
under Brown was a young officer, since the conqueror of Mexico,
Colonel Winfield Scott, who had just routed a party of the British,
eight hundred strong, at Hoophole Creek, and who was equally con-
fident of victory. Had Wilkinson listened, to the advice of these
more heroic spirits, he might yet have achieved successes that would
have crowned his name with glory. But, instead of this, he took
counsel of his bwn morbid fears. At every step he considered he
was further from his base, and, expecting defeat, lamented the dis-
tance that separated him from a secure place of refuge. While in
this miserable condition of mind he received a letter from Hampton,
on the 12th of November, refusing peremptorily to join the expedi-
tion. This decided Wilkinson. He saw a chance to shift the
responsibility on another, and relieve himself of his suspense. His
brow, which had been so long clouded, cleared up ; eagerly snatching
at this refusal of Hampton as an excuse, he resolved to retreat, and
calling in the advance, set out, the very next day, for French Mills,
on Salmon River. This resolution was heard with grief and dismay
by the younger officers. Thus failed an expedition, undertaken at
tiffe head of the best appointed army which had yet been sent out by
the United States. No palliation, or but little, can be offered for the
conduct of Wilkinson. It was not criminal, perhaps, but it was not
heroic. A man of more ability, a Jackson, a Taylor, or [a Scott,
would have entered Montreal in triumph. Wilkinson was tried by
a court-martial, and acquitted, of course, since neither treachery, nor
any other glaring error could be proved upon him. But the popu-
lar verdict was against him, and in questions of this kind the robust
common sense of the people is generally right.
We cannot close the narrative of this disgraceful campaign with-
out alluding to the loss of Fort George and of Fort Niagara. The
former was situated on British soil, and had been the only conquest
remaining to us, when its Commander, Colonel Scott, eager to share
in the expected glories of Wilkinson's expedition, left it in charge of
JAMES WILKINSON.
105
Genera) M'Clure of the New York militia. During the period of
his aos&ice, the British, twelve hundred strong, headed by General
Drumnund, advanced to the siege of the place. Alarmed at this
imposing force, a council of war was called in the fort, and its aban-
donmentresolved upon, though the place was fully competent for a
QCEEXSTOWI*.
defence. The post wl
with dilapidating the
neighboring village oi
afford a shelter to the
>rt
accordingly dismantled. But, hot content
the retiring Americans set fire to the
Newark, alleging that otherwise it might
emy during the approaching winter. By
this inhuman act, four \undred women and children, deprived of
their homes, were thrust\ut into the open air to endure all the hor-
rors of a Canadian wintei Nor did the savage cruelty of the militia
end here. Finding that tfc British sought shelter in the neighboring
village of Queenstown, r hot shots were fired at that place, to
deprive the enemy of a reL^e there. For these acts of Vandalism,
a terrible and speedy retribtton was taken by the British. Crossing
the river at the head of fivihundred men, Colonel Murray, of the
14
106 JAMES WILKINSON.
English army, surprised and carried Fort Niagara, putting sixty-
three of its garrison to death with the bayonet, before he woi'd grant
quarter. This bold act was followed up by the burning of the
villages of Lewistown and Manchester, and subsequenty by the
sacking and conflagration of Black Rock and Buffalo. Ve do not
pretend to defend either of these barbarities. The Britsh, in the
campaign of the preceding year, had acted so ruthlessly ?s to exas-
perate the Americans ; and to this, in part, is the burnirg of New-
ark and Queenstown to be attributed. But the Vandalism of one
party should never excuse that of another. It ought to je the proud
boast of Americans, that while they make war like heroes, they
conduct themselves towards defenceless women and Children, with
the tenderest humanity. Such, indeed, had been thei character up
to this period. It is lamentable to consider that this fair fame was
lost through the instrumentality of cowards, who, Jicompetent to
defend their post, set an example of barbarity th:t was fearfully
retaliated in the sack of Buffalo, and subsequentl' in that of the
capital of the nation.
Wilkinson, having arrived at French Mills, waisd until his army
was established in winter quarters, and then requested leave of
absence, in order to recruit his health. He direced Hampton to be
brought to a court-martial, and, in the spring, th;t General resigned.
Wilkinson afterwards requested a court-marti<l on himself. This
body met in 1815, and acquitted him of all bime. However, on
the new organization of the army, after thf peace, he was not
retained on the establishment, an ominous fcnt as to the popular
opinion of his conduct. He availed himself of tie leisure thus afford-
ed him, to give to the world, in 1817, three large octavo volumes
entitled " Memoirs of My Own Times." Tlis work is not without
value, but is marked by too much personal -rejudice.
Having become possessed of large estate in Mexico, Wilkinson
removed to that country soon after leaving he army. He survived
there until the 28th of December, 1825. lis death occurred in the
vicinity of the capital, and he lies buried irthe parish of St. Miguel.
JOHN ARMSTRONG.
LTHOUGH Armstrong was not
present in any battle during the
war of 1812, yet, as Secretary
of the War Department, and the
^projector of the campaign of 1813, he merits
a place in this series. It can scarcely be
said that he was a very able, or a very for-
tunate leader. None of his projects were
crowned with success. Though he removed
his department from Washington to the northern frontier, in order
to be nearer the scene of operations, he gained nothing from the
step but the envy of his Generals. Neither in arranging the plan of
107
108 JOHN ARMSTRONG.
this campaign, nor in endeavoring to reconcile the jealousies of VVL-
kinson and Hampton, did he exhibit any evidences of a superior in-
tellect. In short, he was better at criticising others than at perform-
ing great deeds himself. A caustic writer, a good hater, prejudiced,
vindictive and vain, he presents the spectacle of a man, who, unable
to rise to a first position himself, detracted from all others who aspired
to it.
Yet it would be improper to speak of Armstrong in a tone of un-
qualified censure. He experienced many things to exasperate him,
and to leave upon his mind the stinging impression of injustice and
undeserved insult. The failure of the campaign of IS 13 was far
from being entirely his fault. In fact the very errors which led to
that failure, he had early warned the commanding Generals against ;
and the removal of the department to the northern frontier was pro-
jected in hopes to prevent, by his presence, unnecessary delays.
Moreover, he was not properly seconded in any of his plans by the
President. Madison and Armstrong had not agreed from the first ;
and as the war progressed, the mutual distrust widened. None of the
Generals whom the executive had most confidence in, and who were
consequently appointed to the chief commands, were, in the Secre-
tary's opinion, competent for their posts. It was Armstrong's favor-
ite belief that victory would never attend our banner, until the old
Generals were weeded out of the army, and new and more vigorous
ones appointed in their place. The result certainly verified his views.
His retirement from his office was attended by circumstances which
favored his assertion at the time, that he had been unjustly treated ;
for, when the capture of the capitol covered him with undeserved
odium, instead of endeavoring to shield him, the President hinted
that it would be best for him to be absent for a while. The truth
was that it was Madison and not Armstrong, who was the real cause
of the capture of the capitol. The President insisted that Windei
should command the troops, and Armstrong objected. But the will
of the President prevailed, and the imbecility of Winder caused a
defeat. In the end, the popular clamors demanded a victim, and
Armstrong, though the least criminal of all, was disingenuously sa-
crificed to public opinion. Indignant at this treatment he threw up
his office. His own generation blamed him for the fault of another ;
but it is the duty of the annalist to reverse this decision.
John Armstrong was the son of General John Armstrong, a dis-
tinguished officer of the Revolution, and was bom at Carlisle, Penn-
sylvania, in the year 1758. At the age of eighteen, contrary to the
wishes of his parents, he absconded from his studies and entered the
JOHN ARMSTRONG. 109
army as a volunteer. He was present at the battle of Princeton in
the capacity of Aid-de-camp to General Mercer ; and after the conflict
assisted to bear the wounded and dying hero from the field. Subse-
quently, he was invited by General Gates to become a member of his
military family, and in this situation, with the rank of Major, he con-
tinued until the close of the war. He was the. author of the celebrated
Newburgh addresses which raised such a ferment in the army in
1782, and which Washington publicly denounced as improper, fac-
tious, and dangerous to the country. They were written with great
ability, and having something of justice as a foundation, were emi-
nently calculated to exasperate the officers against Congress. It was
with difficulty that even the Commander-in-chief could allay the
storm. The writing of these letters was, in later life, a source of ob-
loquy to Armstrong. Attempts have been made accordingly to de-
fend his conduct. But though we can see some slight palliation, we
cannot discover any legitimate excuse. The verdict of Washington
in reference to these letters, pronounced many years subsequent to
their publication, is, perhaps, the most impartial that can be given.
This judgment exculpated Armstrong from intentional error, but
censured the means he employed. " I have since," wrote Washington,
" had sufficient reason for believing that the object of the author was
just, honorable and friendly to the country, though the means sug-
gested were certainly liable to much misunderstanding and abuse."
After the conclusion of peace, Armstrong was Secretary of the
state of Pennsylvania, during Franklin's administration. He was
subsequently a member of the old Congress. In 1789 he married a
sister of Chancellor Livingston, of New York, and removed to the
latter commonwealth to reside. In 1800 he was elected a Senator
of the United States. In 1804 he was appointed, by Jefferson, Min-
ister to the court of France. He continued to reside in Paris, dis-
charging the duties of his mission, and acting also as ambassador to
Spain, until 1810, when, at his own request, he was recalled, his
health and his private affairs requiring his attention at home. On
the declaration of war in 1812 he was appointed a Brigadier ; but
he had scarcely entered on his duties, when the resignation of Dr.
Eustus as Secretary of War, opened his way to that high post. The
President, it is understood, selected him with reluctance, but consi-
dered the choice the best that could be made under the circumstances ;
while Armstrong, on his part, accepted the post with misgivings, for
he found, almost on his first interview, that Madison and himself dif-
fered as to the Generals to be employed. " The old commanders have
lost all ambitious aspirations," said the new Secretary, " while they
JOHN ARMSTRONG.
have forgotten all they ever knew, and are ignorant of the later im
provements in military science." In the end, this difference of opin-
ion, as we have already seen, led to the comparative alienation of
the President and Secretary, and to the resignation of the latter in
disgust.
It was in February, 1813, that Armstrong assumed his new office.
He immediately drew up a plan for the invasion of Canada, predica-
ted on the capture of York, Kingston and other posts, and the obtain-
ing command of the St. Lawrence, before the ice should leave
that river, and recruits arrive from England. Had this scheme been
executed with promptitude and vigor it is probable that Montreal
would have fallen into our hands, and perhaps the whole province
been triumphantly overrun. But Dearborn, then in command at the
north, trifled with the precious moments, and the navigation was open-
ed before anything could be effected. At last, the expedition against
York was undertaken, a gallant exploit, but an almost useless one,
since it was beginning at the extremity, instead of striking at the
heart. Annoyed at these delays, Armstrong insisted that Wilkinson
should be sent to supersede Dearborn, and that the war office should
be changed to the north in order that he might personally inspect
and hasten operations. But the campaign, though begun again un-
der these happier auspices, proved a total failure. Armstrong re-
venged himself, however, by abusing both his subordinates, thus
proving that, if he was not a great war minister, he had at least a
caustic pen. He continued in office until August, 1814.
Armstrong, after his retirement, amused himself with literary
labors. He wrote a sharp review of Wilkinson's Memoirs ; numerous
short biographical notices; a treatise on gardening, and ano-
ther on agriculture, both considered admirable ; and a work in two
volumes, entitled, " Notices of the War of 1812." The latter publi-
cation is strongly tinged with the author's prejudices and acrimoni-
ous feelings ; but displays a. large share of military knowledge ; and
is written in a very effective style. Indeed, Armstrong is decidedly
the best military author America has produced ; and it is to be re-
gretted that he did not live to finish a history of the Revolution,
which he is understood to have begun.
He retained his health in almost full vigor to the 84th year of his
age. Towards the close of 1842 he began to waste away, and
sinking into a rapid decline, died on the 1st of April, 1843.
GEORGE CROGHAN.
H E first gleam of suc-
cess in the north-west was
the heroic defence of Fort
Sandusky,by Major Geo.
Croghan. This affair oc-
curred on the 2d of August,
1813, and exhilaratecf the
public mind in proportion
to its former depression.
A more gallant act it has
never been the province
of the historian to record. Croghan was bom at Locust Grove,
Kentucky, on the 15th of November, 1791. He received the best
111
112 GEORGE CROGHAN.
education the grammar schools of his native state could afford ; and
entered the college of William and Mary, in Virginia, in his seven-
teenth year. In July, 1810, he graduated, and immediately began
the study of the law. In the autumn of 1811, however, the dis
covery of an Indian confederacy under Tecumseh, became public,
and a large portion of the more spirited of the young men of Ken-
tucky, resolved to offer their services in this emergency to their
country. Croghan was one of this number. He first entered as a
private for the campaign up the Wabash, but soon attracting the
notice of his superiors, was made Aid-de-camp to General Boyd, the
second in command. This promotion was a short time preceding the
battle of Tippecanoe. For his behaviour in that stoutly contested
field, he received the thanks of the commanding General, and was
presented with the commission of a Captain in the provincial army,
directed to v je raised in the spring of 1812.
In August of that year, Croghan accompanied the detachment
under General Winchester, which marched from Kentucky to the
relief of General Hull. As is well known, the premature surrender
of Hull rendered the advance of these reinforcements unnecessary,
Croghan continued with Winchester, until, in the succeeding winter,
that General moved upon the Rapids, when our hero was left in
command of the fort just erected at the juncture of the Miami and
Au Glaize rivers. In consequence of this arrangement, he escaped
being made a prisoner with the rest of his comrades at the Raisin.
He now joined Harrison at the Rapids. This was previous to the
erection of Fort Meigs. On the completion of that work, Croghan
was one of those besieged in it, with the commanding General ;
and Harrison frequently afterwards expressed the confidence he had
reposed in his subordinate's judicious arrangements during that
leaguer. On the occasion of the sortie of the 5th of May, Croghan
commanded one of the companies under Colonel Miller, and, for his
courageous deportment, was again noticed in general orders. In
1813, Croghan was advanced to the rank of Major. The command
of Fort Stephenson was now entrusted to him, and the consequence
was that brilliant exploit which will enshrine his name to the latest
posterity.
A large body of Indian auxiliaries having assembled at Maiden,
in the spring of 1813, Proctor, to give them employment, resolved
to attack Fort Meigs, and subsequently Fort Stephenson, at Lower
Sandusky. His design, in assaulting these places, was two-fold.
By making a demonstration against Fort Meigs, he hoped to induce
.he commander, Colonel Clay, to leave his entrenchments, and meet
GEORGE CROGHAN. 113
himself and Tecumseh in the open field. This was his first object.
His second was by seriously alarming Harrison, then at Lower San-
dusky, for the safety of his out-posts and stores on the Miami, to
induce that General to hasten to their defence, by which means the
British leader thought the capture of Forts Stephenson, Cleveland,
and Presque Isle, would be rendered comparatively easy, since no
longer sustained by the army of the Commander-in-chief. Accord-
ingly, these being the plans of his campaign, Proctor, on the 22d
of May, advanced against Fort Meigs. But speedily discovering
that his designs against that post promised little success, he raised
the siege six days after, and dismissing a portion of his force to Mai-
den, and sending another portion to watch Harrison, he hastened
with the residue, twenty-two hundred, white and red, to assail
Fort Stephenson.
Meanwhile, Croghan, the commander of that place, was in a most
perilous condition. Harrison, having determined to retreat, had
sent word to him to abandon the fort, and repair to camp ; but the
young officer taking the order as a discretionary one, resolved to
hold the position. The fort, however, presented few inducements
to encourage resistance. Injudiciously placed, and badly construc-
ted, neither finished nor furnished stripped of a part even of its
usual armament, and garrisoned by only one hundred and fifty
men, it was scarcely worthy the name of a military work, and would
have been considered untenable by four out of five ordinary officers.
But the men who occupied that little post, as well as their heroic
commander, were made of no common stuff. The disgrace of the
preceding campaign had caused their cheeks to bum with shame,
and they longed, one and all, for an opportunity to redeem the glory
of their country, now suffering a sad eclipse. Accordingly, when
notice was given of the approach of the enemy, there was but one
opinion in the fort as to the course to be pursued. " We will repel
the foe," was the cry, " or perish in the attempt."
The instructions of Harrison had been that Croghan should
abandon the fort on the approach of Proctor, provided a retreat
should then be practicable. The disposition of the British force,
however, rendered a retrograde movement difficult, if not impossible.
Proctor's first object had been to surround the place with a cordon
of Indians. This movement showed that he considered the retreat
of the garrison so certain, as to render some precautions necessary
to secure his ground. Having thus, as he thought, provided against
the only contingency by which his enterprise could fail of complete suc-
cess, Proctor despatched Cap tain Elliot, the half-breed, who had figured
x* 15
114 GEORGE CROGHAN.
in the massacre at the Raisin, to summon the fort to surrender. The
demand was seconded with a threat of indiscriminate slaughter in
case of refusal. Croghan's answer was short and heroic : " Go back
to your leader," he exclaimed, " and tell him that brave men do not
surrender without blows. We will defend the fort to the last extre-
mity." With these words, he turned on the messenger, and regaining
his companions, prepared to make good his words by a desperate
defence.
Yet, to have seen the scanty means at his disposal, would have
made the heart of any man less brave, sink within him. The works
were shamefully weak, and but a single cannon constituted the
armament. These things, however, had all been known before, and
duly considered by that little garrison. The resolution to defend the
place had not been the Quixotic impulse of an hour, but the settled
determination of days of calm deliberation. Croghan felt that it was
better the whole garrison should be cut off, than that, by its retreat,
hundreds of miles of frontier, with thousands of innocent inhabitants
should be thrown open to the merciless savages. Moreover, he
knew well the perfidy of Proctor. The very messenger the British
General had sent had been ominous of massacre. The Americans,
in consequence, resolved, like the heroic defenders of the Alamo in
a similar emergency, to rely on their own stalwart arms and unerring
aim, rather than on the word of a treacherous enemy, choosing to
perish, if death must be their fate, in the noble effort to defend their
flag, and not unresistingly under the scalping knife and tomahawk
of the savage. A resolution worthy of freemen, and fortunately
crowned with success !
Proctor, though fully expecting a surrender, had not, however,
intermitted his preparations for a siege, and by the time his messen-
ger returned with a defiance, had landed his artillery, and placed it
so as to support his gun-boats. A fire was immediately opened on the
fort. Soon the balls began to strike the works, knocking the
splinters in every direction. The day, meanwhile, departed, but
darkness was not allowed by the eager enemy to retard his opera-
tions. All through that mid-summer night cannon shook the neigh-
boring shores with their roar, and flung a lurid blaze across the
gloom. It was no time for slumber, consequently, in the American
camp. Every man was at his post, or convenient to it ; every cartridge
box was seen to be supplied ; every musket was examined, and the
point of every blade tried, that they might be sure to do their work.
Croghan passed and re-passed among his troops, in order to convince
himself that nothing was omitted. Now and then, perhaps, as he or
GEORGE CROGHAN. 115
his soldiers looked out on the plain below, ana beheld the thick
masses of the enemy, revealed every few minutes by the flashes of
the cannon, their thoughts might revert to the terrible chances against
them on the morrow, and, in fancy, memory would return to the
homes they had left, and the lovely faces that made those homes so
dear, never, perhaps, to be seen again. But feelings like these were
not suffered to unman them. On the contrary, at every such thought,
the musket was grasped more tightly, and a silent vow taken to
fight as if those distant ones were looking on. Occasionally, between
the sound of the explosions, wild noises would come up from the
flanks of the enemy, which the soldiers too well knew to be the
shouts of the savages, as their braves boasted of the scalps they
should take on the morrow ; and, once or twice, there were those
who saw, or fancied they saw, the figures of painted Indians dancing,
the scene blazing out an instant in the blue and ghastly light of the
cannonade, like a vision of fiends at their orgies.
Morning came slowly and wearily to the besiegers, but with
wings of lightning to the besieged. As the grey dawn melted into
the rosy hues of sunrise, many a brave man within that fort looked
up for the last time, as he thought, to heaven, but still with no
unmanly fear ; only with that sad feeling which the boldest will expe-
rience when he sees himself about to be immolated. Such a feeling
perhaps, crossed the heart of Leonidas, when he fastened on his
buckler, and waited for the Persian thousands. Croghan was in the
front of his men, calm in that hour of extreme peril. But it soon
became evident that the enemy did not intend an immediate assault,
for he had established a new battery, consisting of six pounders,
within two hundred and fifty yards of the pickets. A respite was
thus gained for the defenders. But it was a respite allowing no
repose, and only a protraction of their suspense. The fire of this new
battery soon began, and the air shook with concussions. The balls
hurtled around the fort, or bounded from the ramparts. The
surface of the ground in the line of fire, became covered with smoke,
which, every few minutes, would rend asunder, and a ball come
whistling along. Thus the morning passed. Noon came, but the
roar of the cannonade was undiminished. And even when the hot
August sun began to decline in the west, the blaze of artillery still
went on, and the suspense of the besieged continued.
At last the fire of the British was seen to be concentrated on the
north-west corner of the fort, and now Croghan no longer doubted as
to the point where the attack was to be made. He accordingly
hastened in person to the threatened spot. Every man that could be
116
GEORGE CROGHAN.
spared from other quarters, was put in requisition, and all the bags
of flour arid sand that could be found, were hurriedly collected,
and arranged to strengthen the angle. The solitary cannon, the
only hope of the defenders, was charged with grape-shot, and placed
so as to enfilade the assailants. Then each soldier took his post.. A
profound silence succeeded within the fort. This lasted for perhaps,
two minutes, at the end of which the enemy was seen advancing
through the smoke, his troops formed in one compact column, and
marching with the steady tread of assured victors. When Croghan
gave the order to fire, such a rattling volley was poured in by the
garrison, that the enemy reeled and fell into disorder. But, at this
crisis, Lieutenant-colonel Short, who led the British in the assault,
sprang to the head of his soldiers, and waving his sword, called to
them to follow, bidding them with oaths, to remember that no
quarter was to be given. A savage shout answered this address,
DEFENCE Off FORT STEPIIBNSON.
and the ranks recovering their order, the head of the column rushed
forward, and leaped down into the ditch, which was soon densely
crowded.
This was the moment for which Croghan had waited. Another
minute, perhaps, would have given the fort to the foe ; but that
minute many of his best men were destined never to see. The
GEORGE CROGHAN. 117
single cannon of the garrison, placed so as to rake the assailants,
now bore full on the masses of soldiery in the ditch, and the mask
being suddenly removed, the whole fearful contents of the piece
swept the solid ranks before it. There was a gush of flame, a stun-
ning explosion, and the hissing sound of grape then, as the white
smoke floated back on the besiegers, the prospect was, for an instant,
hidden. But when the veil of battle blew aside, a scene of horror
was exhibited, such as those who witnessed it have described as
one of the most awful on record. At first a lane, perceptible to
every eye, and extending right through the densest portion of the
assaulting mass, marked the path traversed by the shot, but as the
distance from the gun increased, and the grape scattered, this clearly
defined line disappeared, and a prospect of the wildest confusion
ensued. One third of those who had entered the ditch, lay there a
shapeless, quivering mass. In many instances, the dead had fallen
on the wounded, and as the latter struggled to extricate themselves,
the scene resembled that depicted in old paintings of the Final
Judgment, where fiends and men wrestle in horrible contortions.
Groans, shrieks, and curses more terrible than all, rose from that
Golgotha ! The few who retained life and strength, after the first
second of amazement, rushed from the post of peril, leaped wildly
upon the bank, and communicating their terror to the rest of the
column, the whole took to flight, and buried itself in the neighboring
woods. As this occurred, such a shout went up to heaven from the
conquerors as never had been heard on that wild shore before. And
well might the Americans exult for it was against ten times their
own number they had achieved a victory.
In recompense for this gallant exploit, Croghan was elevated to
the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. His name was eulogized in Con-
gress, and hailed with applause throughout the country as that of one,
who united in himself the prudence of the veteran, and the courage of
the hero. His military genius, indeed, had been proved by his uniform
conduct, to be of a very high order. During his campaign under Win-
chester, he became celebrated among his companions for the judi-
cious selection he made of his ground wherever the army encamped,
and for his throwing up some slight fortifications, even when the
stay was to be but for a night. He was remarkable also for a manly
and open character, for chivalrous sentiment, and for an intellect of
more than ordinary force. In 1835, Congress presented him a gold
medal, in commemoration of his defence of Fort Stephenson.
Croghan made an unsuccessful attempt after the battle of the
Thames to recover the post of Mackinaw. On the conclusion of
118 GEORGE CROGHAN.
peace, he was retained in the army, but resigned in 1817. Soon afte
he was appointed Post-Master at New Orleans. In 1S25, however,
he returned to the army, and accepted the post of Inspector-Genera*,
which he still worthily fills. He joined the army in Mexico on the
march to Monterey, and was present at the assault of that place.
During the crisis of one of the three days fighting, when a Ten-
nessee regiment shook under a tremendous concentric fire, Croghan
rushed to the front, and taking off his hat, the wind tossing his grey
hairs, he shouted : " Men of Tennessee, your fathers conquered with
Jackson at New Orleans follow me !" The stirring words were
received with a burst of cheers, and the troops re-animated, dashed
on. In the list of brevets subsequently conferred for gallantry in
this action, his name was, however, by some oversight, overlooked,
and he was unwillingly recalled soon after to the United States.
Croghan died at New Orleans, on the 8th of January, 1849. With
the evening gun of that memorable anniversary, his spirit passpd away.
WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON.
ARRISON was one of the
successful Generals of the las:
war. It was under him that
the first victories were gain-
ed over the British in the
^ ! north-west ; and his name will go down
^1 to posterity indissombly connected with
the battle of the Thames. He is even
i more honorably remembered for his In-
dian wars, however : and as the hero of
Tippecanoe has gained a fast hold on the
ublic heart. Perhaps, critically speaking, he was inferior, in military
119
120 WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON.
genius, to both Jackson and Brown. He wanted the terrible energy,
the almost reckless boldness which characterized these two leaders.
He belonged to a different school altogether. His was the policy of
Fabius, rather than of Marcellus ; and this not from necessity, but
from choice. The bent of his mind was to be prudent, economic of
means, willing to listen to advice.
William Henry Harrison was the son of Benjamin Harrison, one
of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. He was born at
Berkley, the residence of his father, in the county of Charles City,
Virginia, on the 9th of February, 1773. He received his education
at .Hampden Sydney College, in his native state. At the ago of se-
venteen he graduated, and turned his attention to the study of medi-
cine. His father dying, however, in the succeeding year, he aban-
doned all thoughts of this profession, and solicited an Ensigncy in
the United States army. In 1791, accordingly, he received a com-
mission, and was immediately ordered to his regiment, then station-
ed at Fort Washington, where the city of Cincinnati has since be n
built. The war which raged with the western Indians gave the
young soldier numerous opportunities to distinguish himself; and he
was, on more than one occasion, mentioned in flattering terms by
his superior officer. Promotion rapidly followed. In 1792 he was
raised to the rank of Lieutenant. In 1794, on the victory of Wayne,
he became a Captain. Soon after, peace having been concluded
with the Indians, he was honored with the command of Fort Wash-
ington. During the whole of this period he had resided, without
intermission, in the west, and had now become so thoroughly identi-
fied with its interests, that it needed but little temptation to induce
him to make that his permanent home.
Accordingly in 1797 he resigned his commission in the army, in
order to be appointed Secretary of the north-western territory. The
vast district, then known under this name, comprised what are now
the states of Ohio, Indiana, Michigan and Illinois.- In 1799, when
the territory sent its first delegate to Congress, Harrison was chosen
the representative. His career as a legislator was distinguished by
practical sense and an untiring endeavor to benefit his constituents.
Among other measures, he procured an alteration in the law provi-
ding for the sale of public lands. Up to that period, the smallest,
portion of land which the government would dispose of to one indi-
vidual was four thousand acres. This practice, though convenient
for the government, was injurious to the west, and unjust to the peo-
ple. It was, in fact, holding out inducements to the wealthy specu-
lators, and virtually excluding the poorer classes, who composed
WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 121
the real settlers, from being purchasers. Harrison procured the pas-
sage of an act which provided that the public lands should be sold
in alternate sections and half sections, the former comprising six
nundred and forty acres, and the latter three hundred and twenty
acrs each. This change proved highly beneficial. The settlers
of comparatively humble means were no longer at the mercy of the
land speculators, and as a consequence, emigration to the west tri-
pled itself within a few years.
When Indiana, in 1801, was erected into a distinct territorial go-
vernment, Harrison was appointed its Governor, with extraordinary
powers. His administration was so popular with the people, that,
at their solicitation, he was re-appointed to this office, by both Jef-
ferson and Madison, down to the year 1813. His knowledge of In-
dian affairs rendered him, during all this period, prominent in every
transaction with the savages. In 1803, Jefferson had appointed him
a " commissioner to enter into any treaties which might be necessary
with any Indian tribes north-west of the Ohio, and within the terri-
tory of the United States, on the subject of their boundaries or lands."
In his capacity of commissioner, under this appointment, he executed
no less than thirteen treaties with different tribes. By his sagacity
and wisdom the western border was preserved, for many years, in a
state of comparative security. As the impression of Wayne's vic-
tory began to wear away, however, the Indians, always restless,
thirsted to take up the hatchet. The instigation of England, whose
emissaries increased with the probabilities of a war between her and
the United States, assisted to fan the flame of discord. But peace
might, perhaps, still have been preserved but for the exertions of Te-
cumseh, an Indian chief, who had conceived the design of uniting
all his race in one great league against the whites, and thus endea-
voring to recover the lands and hunting grounds of his ancestors.
Had Tecumseh been a Roman, and successful in his design, his
name would have been immortalized by this gigantic plan. He knew
by the traditions of his people, that scarcely three centuries had
passed since the white man first landed in America ; and patriarchs
were still living among his tribe, who could recollect when the Alle-
ghanies formed the boundary to civilization. He himself had seen
how, year by year, the great tide of population rolled westward,
obliterating forest, village and wigwam, like the sea gaining steadily
upon the shore. Where once the smoke of the council-fire curleu
up amid the boundless wilderness ; where once the hunter roamed
fearless, knowing that, far as he went, the land was all his own ;
where once the Indian girl sang her love-song, the Indian wife
122 WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON.
plaited her mat, or the Indian children gambolled before the cabin
door, now rose the tall chimney of the furnace, now surged along the
dense population of cities, now was heard the clatter of the mill-wheel,
the roar of manufactories, and all the other noisy accompaniments
of civilized life. Each year the Indian saw his territory decrease, and
his white neighbor crowd him further towards the setting sun. Is it
to be wondered at that Tecumseh regarded the Americans as his
natural enemies, that he vowed against them eternal hostility, and
that he sought to unite all the red tribes in one immense league
against these natural foes of his race ? Yet even he must, at times,
when revolving his stupendous plans, have felt how impotent would
be resistance against what seemed to be the inevitable decree of Pro-
vidence.
Tecumseh was assisted in his enterprise by his brother, who was
known by the name of" the Prophet." Together these two labored
to excite the savages against the United States. Their designs at
last began to attract the attention of government. Murders and other
outrages became of frequent occurrence. Some great movement
against the whites was obviously in preparation. Determined to
take the initiative, the United States assembled a force of regulars
and militia in 1811, and placing it under the command of Harrison,
directed him to march against the Prophet's town of Tippecanoe, and
demand the restoration of such property as had been carried off by the
Indians. If his request was refused, he was to proceed and enforce
the claim. Accordingly, Harrison, losing no time in delay, arrived
before the town on the 6th of November. Here he was met by mes-
sengers from the Prophet, deprecating hostilities and promising that
all differences should be adjusted on the morrow. Relying in part
on this stipulation, yet alive to the treachery of the Indian character,
Harrison was perplexed what to do, since to seem to doubt the foe
might produce the very danger he wished to avoid, while to trust
implicitly to him might insure destruction. He resolved, finally, to
encamp for the night on an elevated piece of dry oak land, situated
between two prairies, a position affording the best means of defence
in the vicinity.
His mistrust of the enemy was so great, however, that he encamp-
ed his men in order of battle, and directed them to rest on their arms ;
hence, if attacked in the night, they would be ready instantaneously
for tie contest. The line was formed also with great skill. The front
and rear were composed of infantry, separated on the right about
ninety yards, and on the left about twice that distance. The front
line contained a battalion of the fourth regiment of regulars, com-
WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 123
manded by Major Floyd; the rear line was formed of another bat-
talion of the fourth, under Captain Baer. On the rear of the left
flank was posted a company of sixty dragoons ; and in the rear of
the front line another more numerous. The left flank was defended
by about one hundred and fifty mounted riflemen, under General
Wells, of Kentucky ; and the right flank by Spencer's company of
mounted riflemen, in numbers about eighty. Two companies of
militia flanked the right of Major Floyd, and on his left Captain
Baer's line was flanked by four companies of militia under Lieuten-
ant-Colonel Decker. Thus judiciously posted, the little army lay
down to slumber.
Before daybreak, however, on the morning of the 7th of Novem-
ber, the soldiers were startled by the sound of the war-whoop close
to the lines. Instantly every man sprang to his arms. Louder and
nearer rose the yells of the Indians, followed by the rapid dropping
of shots ; and speedily the pickets, driven before overwhelming
numbers, came pouring into the camp. Never were the high quali-
ties of the American soldier more gloriously displayed than in this
emergency. Though surprised, and scarcely yet awake, each man
knew at once what to do. The first weight of the assault fell on Cap-
tain Barton's regulars and the mounted riflemen of Captain Geiger,
and with such impetuosity did it burst, that a few savages actually
cut through the- ranks and penetrated into the camp. But this spec-
tacle, instead of creating a panic, only roused the soldiers to the most
desperate exertions. Reinforcements were hurried to the front.
The Indians in the camp paid for their temerity with their lives. But
suddenly, while the attention of the General was thus occupied, a tre-
mendous fire was opened in another quarter, to the left of the front,
on the companies of Baer, Prescott and Snelling. At the same time
the savages appeared in great force among some trees a few yards in
advance of the front. The flashes of their guns followed each other
in rapid succession, and soldier after soldier fell beneath their uner-
ring aim. Yet not a man flinched. The regulars died where they stood ;
the mounted men were decimated unmoved ; and the volunteers,
regardless of their fast thinning ranks, still bravely faced the foe.
In this emergency, Major Davies, who had been posted in the
rear of the front line, was ordered to charge the enemy with his
cavalry. Calling to his men to follow, he dashed gallantly forward,
but almost immediately received a mortal wound ; while his troops,
unable to withstand the close and well -directed fire of the savages,
fell back in disorder. The yells of the Indians now redoubled, and
in this part of the field rose triumphant over the rattling of the mus-
124 WILLIAM HENHY HARRISON.
ketry. Captain Snelling was next ordered to charge with the oayo-
net. The command was received with a cheer, the long line of
glistening steel was levelled, and the little phalanx of regulars was
launched like a thunderbolt on the foe. The Indians gave way in
affright. But this success crowned only one portion of the field. On
all the others the savages still maintained their positions, and conti-
nued to pour in heavy and destructive' discharges. The light was
still too faint to detect the situations held by the Indians, except when
the flashes of the guns lit up their dark forms in the back-ground, or
a sudden burst of yells betrayed them in some near locality. The
whole camp, however, was occasionally girdled with fire. Spencer's
mounted riflemen and the right of Warrick's company appeared to
be especial marks for the foe. The slaughter among these brave
men was awful. Captain Spencer was killed, as was also his first
and second Lieutenant ; Captain Warrick fell, mortally wounded ;
and the men dropped from their ranks continually. The Americans
could do nothing until morning broke, except maintain their
posts, and keep up an intermitting round of vollies. This they did
effectually. One rolling discharge after another shook the solid
ground and hurled its missiles of death against the foe, until the
smoke of the pieces grew so thick, that it increased the darkness
and thus prolonged the danger.
At last the dawn broke, and soon, in the increasing light, the po-
sition of the foe became distinctly defined. The exact locality of the
savages on the left was now reconnoitred for the purpose of a charge ;
and Major Wells, in the most brilliant manner, leading his men
down the slope, broke the line of the enemy. The Indians were
no sooner perceived to be retreating, than a detachment of cavalry
was hurled among them. Their consternation on this became gene-
ral. Driven furiously by the horsemen, who cut them down almost
unresistingly, and as fast as the sabre could be plied, they rushed
wildly forwards, crowding and treading on each other in their ter
ror, until they finally plunged themselves into a marsh where the
cavalry could not follow. The victory in this quarter was complete.
Simultaneously the companies of Captain Cook and Lieutenant La
rabie were ordered to advance against the savages on the right, sus-
tained by the mounted riflemen. The movement was executed with
great gallantry. The Indians broke and fled. Our troops pursued,
throwing in the bayonet, wherever it was possible, the cheers that
rose from every part of the field, stimulating them with assurances
of a complete victory. The enemy was now flying, indeed, in all
directions. Harrison had gained a decisive triumph.
WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON 1 . 125
In the battle of Tippecanoe the inherent courage, combined with
the intelligence of the American soldier, was strikingly exem-
plified. Rarely has any body of troops been attacked under circum-
stances more discouraging to the assailed. The numbers and posi-
tion of the foe were unknown ; the darkness prevented aggressive
measures ; and nothing remained but to stand firm until dawn, a
mark for the concentric fire of the enemy. The scattered nature of
the Indian forces magnified their strength, lessened the mortality of
our fire, and assisted to dishearten the soldiers. During the greater
portion of the battle there was no opportunity for the exercise of
generalship, or of any quality in either officers or men, except pas-
sive courage. Yet nobly did the American soldier vindicate his
blood. When morning dawned at last, and the positions of the
savages could be made out, how readily, and with what splendid
courage he came to the assault ! The loss of the Indians was exces-
sive, considering the caution with which they hazard life ; it was
one hundred and fifty. That of the Americans, in killed and wounded,
was one hundred and eighty-eight.
The victory was immediately followed up by vigorous measures
against the offending tribe. On the 9th, two days after the battle,
Harrison burned the Prophet's town. He next proceeded to lay
waste the contiguous districts. The Indians, struck dumb with
astonishment at their unexpected defeat, and finding themselves pow-
erless to resist their foe, now sued for submission. Perhaps if Tecum-
seh had been present, the contest would have been more protracted ;
but that indomitable chieftain was in the south, engaged in stirring
up the Creeks to war. Having completed all the purposes of the
campaign, Harrison now set out on his return. Everywhere, as he
traversed the inhabited country, he was received with enthusiasm.
The people hailed him as the preserver of beauty from the toma-
hawk of the savage ; as the defender of civilization against barbarian
inroads ; as the hero whose sword carried victory upon its point. No
man, in the whole west, was more popular.
Accordingly when, in the succeeding year, the capture of Hull
aroused the nation to the necessity of a more active prosecution of
the war, the public voice at once fixed on Harrison as the only man
capable of leading the army to success and glory in the north-west.
When the news of the fall of Detroit reached Kentucky, Harrison
was on a visit to that state, and was almost immediately invested,
by the Governor, with the rank of Major-General. This was done
although Harrison was not a citizen of Kentucky, in order that ha
might rank Winchester, a Brigadier. Some difficulty, in consequence
XI*
126 WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON.
of this irregularity, ensued between the two Generals in reference to
which should hold supreme command ; but it was terminated by
the President, who assigned it to Harrison, and made -Winchester
second in authority. Before this, however, and immediately on
receiving his appointment from the Governor of Kentucky, Harrison
had marched to relieve the frontier posts, at the head of a body of
militia, hastily collected. He left Cincinnati on the 29th of August,
1812, and on the 3rd of September arrived at Piqua. His force now
amounted to about twenty-five hundred men. Believing that an
autumnal campaign held out prospects of success, he lost no more
time at this place than was absolutely necessary to complete his
arrangements and receive his military stores.
On the 6th he marched for Fort Wayne, situated at the head of
the Miami of the Lake, a river formed by the confluence of the St.
Mary .and St. Joseph. This post had been invested, for some
time, by Indians, but, at the approach of the Americans, they fled in
haste. On the 12th, Harrison arrived at Fort Wayne, and was fol-
lowed, on the 19th, by Winchester, with reinforcements. The diffi-
culty with respect to the rank of the two Generals not having been
yet adjusted, Harrison yielded the command to Winchester, and
started for his own government, at the head of a body of mounted
men, intending to operate against the Indian settlements in that quar-
ter. He had proceeded, however, but a short distance, when an
express from Washington overtook him, with a notification that the
disputed point had been decided in his favor. He accordingly
returned to Fort Wayne, but found that Winchester had set out for
Fort Defiance, the preceding day. This latter General arrived at
Fort Defiance on the 30th, after a toilsome march. Here, on the
3rd of October, Harrison overtook him ; but left on the 4th, to bring
up the centre and right wing. He first, however, despatched Gene-
ral Tupper, with a thousand men, on an expedition against the
Rapids. Owing to the defection of the Ohio militia, as well as to a
disagreement between Tupper and Winchester, the enterprise was
never carried into effect. The autumn was consumed in a series of
petty attempts upon the foe ; but no great movement was under-
taken ; for the dearth of supplies frustrated any attempts of mag.
nitude. Michigan did not afford even forage for the horses. " To
get supplies forward," wrote Harrison to the department at Wash-
ington, " through a swampy wilderness of near two hundred miles,
in wagons or on pack horses, which are also to carry their own pro-
visions, is absolutely impossible." In consequence of this difficulty
an autumnal campaign was abandoned.
WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 127
But Harrison was still sanguine that, in the winter, he should be
able to strike a successful blow at Maiden. His plan of operations did
not vary much from that projected for the autumn : it was to occupy
the Rapids of the Miami, and having collected a sufficient quantity
of provisions there, to advance towards Detroit, make a feint against
that place, and then suddenly passing the strait upon the ice, invest
Maiden. His whole effective force was about six thousand three
hundred men, divided into three detachments, one at Fort Defiance,
another at Fort M'Arthur, and a third at Upper Sandusky. The
different divisions were to concentrate at the Rapids. Winchester,
who commanded at Fort Defiance, was the first to arrive at the ren-
dez\ipus. Here he began to form a fortified camp. Having been
induced to send forward a portion of his force to Frenchtown, in
order to protect the inhabitants of that place from the savages, a
victory was the consequence, which so elated the troops left behind,
that they insisted on marching to share the glory of their comrades.
Accordingly, Winchester, at the head of the remainder of his detach-
ment, advanced also to the river Raisin, where the united forces sus-
tained that terrible defeat, followed by a massacre, which we have
narrated in its proper place.
Harrison had arrived at Lower Sandusky on his way to the place
of rendezvous, when he heard of the party sent forward to French-
town by Winchester. The intelligence paralyzed the older officers
of the army. Alarmed for the consequences, Harrison hastened his
march, and reaching the Rapids, discovered that Winchester, deceived
by the delusive victory, had pushed on in person to the Raisin. The
force under Harrison's immediate command did not amount to quite
seven hundred men, yet he decided at once to follow his subor di-
nate, hoping to overtake him before it would be too late. He had left
the Rapids but three miles behind him, however, when he heard of
the disastrous defeat of Winchester. A hurried consultation now
took place, when a retreat towards Sandusky was decided on. This
decision was hasty. To have advanced against fifteen hundred victo-
rious troops, with a force less than twice that number would, indeed,
have been madness ; but it did not follow that a post, already par-
tially fortified, should be dismantled, its provisions destroyed, and
the garrison withdrawn. Such, however, was the decision of the
council. The unnecessary haste of this measure was atoned for par-
tially in the ensuing month, when Harrison advanced again to the
Rapids, and began to fortify the post anew, under the name of Fort
Meigs. Meantime, however, he had retired to Carrying River, about
midway between this place and Sandusky. With this retreat, Har-
128 WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON.
rison's winter campaign terminated. It had been even less success-
ful than the autumnal one.
The ensuing spring opened with more eclat. Proctor, at the head
of a combined force of regulars and savages, twenty-two hundred
strong, advanced against Fort Meigs about the middle of April,
hoping to capture it before the arrival of Harrison's reinforcements
and supplies ; for in consequence of the term of service of a large por-
tion of the troops having expired, the American army was com-
paratively weak, and anxiously awaited the appearance of General
Clay, from Cincinnati, with the new levies, amounting to twelve
hundred men. Incessant rains prevented Proctor from opening his
batteries before the first of May. The garrison, however, though
little over a thousand, was not intimidated. The fort was strong
and well supplied with cannon ; and the men relied even enthusias-
tically upon their leader. Moreover, the time had been judiciously
employed in throwing up a grand traverse, twelve feet high and
three hundred yards long, which effectually covered the besieged.
On the 5th of May, a small party sent forward by General Clay,
arrived. Harrison now conceived the plan of making a sortie against
the enemy, to be sustained by General Clay's detachment. The
attack of General Clay was, at first, made with spirit, but finally
failed, principally because of the imprudence and insubordination of
the troops. The sortie from the fort, under Colonel Miller, was
more successful, though, in consequence of General Clay's repulse,
it was rendered abortive in the end. It is disgraceful to record that
the cruelties visited on their prisoners by the savages, and this too
in presence of the British officers, was such as to make humanity
revolt at recording them. Proctor, notwithstanding his partial suc-
cess in this engagement, soon found that he neither could make any
impression on the works of the batteries, nor hope to carry the place
by storm ; accordingly, on the 9th of May, four days after the battle,
he raised the siege and began a precipitate retreat, carrying off with
him his artillery. The Americans did not, however, molest him.
The garrison lost about two hundred and sixty in killed and wounded
during the siege, principally in the affair of the 5th. The repulse of
Proctor from Fort Meigs obliterated, in a measure, the misfortunes
of the preceding winter and autumn, and the name of Harrison was
once more regarded, especially in the west, as a sure presage of tri-
umph
And, in justice to Harrison, it must be said that the failure of the
autumnal and winter campaigns cannot wholly be attributed to him.
Though not a bold man, he was sufficiently brave, and would have
WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 129
succeeded if prudence had not forbidden him to risk too much. He
has been charged with excess of caution ; but it was better to eir on
this side than on that of rashness. His troops, moreover, were undis-
ciplined, and scarcely fit to cope with British regulars. But the great
defect of both campaigns was the attempt to reduce Canada without
first obtaining the command of Lake Erie. As we have seen, the
supplies of the army had to be carried a distance of two hundred
miles, principally on pack-horses, and consequently at an enormous
expense. The drivers of these pack-horses were generally of the
most worthless description, who, by their carelessness, broke down
their animals and destroyed the goods. Wagons were so difficult to
obtain, that when used, the teams were valued at an excessive price,
which operated as a bounty to induce the owners to drive them to
debility or death, in order to get the price. No bills of lading were
used, nor accounts kept with the wagoners, and of course the plun-
der of the public goods went on without restraint. The immense
sums thus squandered in supplying the army almost surpasses belief.
" From my knowledge of the cost of transportation," wrote Ha'rri-
son to the Secretary of War, in December, 1812, " I do believe that
the expense that will be incurred in the course of six weeks in the
spring, in moving the provisions of the army along the roads leading
from the Rapids to Detroit, would build and equip all the vessels
necessary to give us the command of the lake." Hence, Harrison
urged on the government the construction of a fleet on Lake Erie.
His advice was finally adopted, and suitable vessels built in the sum-
mer of 1813. The victory of Perry over the English squadron, on
the 10th of September in that year, followed, and laid open, at once,
the whole of that portion of Canada to invasion.
Harrison lost no time in availing himself of the fruits of this naval
triumph. He immediately embarked his army, and on the 27th of
September, landed on the enemy's shores. Meantime consternation
had seized Proctor. Abandoning Maiden, notwithstanding the
reproaches of Tecumseh, the British General began an ignominious
flight. Harrison, now reinforced by Colonel R. M. Johnson, at the
head of one thousand mounted Kentucky men, pressed forward in
pursuit; and, on the 5th of October, overtook the fugitives on the
banks of the Thames, and gained a decisive triumph. The victory
was won chiefly by the regiment of Johnson, who pressed forward
with such impetuosity that the terrified enemy threw down his arms
before the American infantry could get into action. By this glorious
event, the direct result of Harrison's foresight and skill, all the terri-
tory surrendered by Hull was recovered ; a vast quantity of smalJ
17
130
WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON.
arms and stores was captured ; and what was, perhaps, of even more
importance, the disgrace of that event was wiped from our arms, and
the Indian confederacy under Tecumseh broken forever. Among
the trophies were three pieces of artillery which had been taken
GXNXKAI, HARBISON'S AXMT CROSSIXO LAKE mm
from the British at Saratoga, and had subsequently reverted to their
original possessors by the surrender of Hull.
Harrison, having taken possession of Detroit, and finding himself
without orders from the war department, resolved to proceed in the
fleet to Buffalo. Here he arrived on the 24th of October, and from
this place marched to Newark, where he received orders to send
McArthur's brigade to Sackett's Harbor, accompanied by an intima-
tion that he had leave to return to his family. Harrison received
this declaration as a hint to retire from his command. He obeyed
the order, however, but soon after sent in his resignation. Arm-
strong, then Secretary of War, from whom the order proceeded, has
charged Harrison with imbecility in his command, asserting that his
successes were the result of good fortune and not of plans well con-
ceived. After the narrative we have given of Harrison's military
career, it is impossible to coincide in opinion with the vindictive
Secretary. Harrison was not a Wayne nor a Jackson ; he belonged,
as we have said, to a less dashing school ; but he was an infinitely
better officer than Armstrong, or than most of his cotemporaries.
After Brown, Jackson and Scott, he ranks pre-eminent.
The remainder of Harrison's career was chiefly political, and we
WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 131
shall, therefore, dismiss it with a rapid summary. In 1814 he was
appointed with General Cass and Governor Shelby, to treat with the
north-western Indians ; and in 1815 to treat with numerous other
tribes. In 1817 he was elected a representative to Congress from
Ohio, having, at the close of the war, purchased a seat at North
Bend, below Cincinnati. During his term he demanded an investi-
gation of certain reports to his disadvantage, in relation to the manage-
ment of the commissariat department in the army under his control.
A committee being appointed, his character was fully vindicated by
their report. He voted, during this session, to censure General
Jackson for having seized the Spanish posts in Florida. Having been
elected a member of the Ohio Senate in 1819, he now transferred
his counsels to that body. In 1824 he was chosen a United States
Senator from Ohio. His career in that body was marked by his
endeavors to procure the passage of a just and proper pension law,
for the benefit of those who had shed their blood in the battles of
their country. In 1828, Harrison was appointed Minister to the
republic of Columbia, but was recalled by Jackson, on the elevation
of the latter to the Presidency in 1829. He now retired to private
life. His farm and his books employed his time; and his table was
ever ready for the calls of hospitality. He ultimately found, how-
ever, that his income was not adequate to the support of his family ;
and accordingly, in 1834, accepted the office of Prothonotary of the
court of Hamilton county, Ohio.
In this office he continued until his election to the Presidency in
1840. He was first made a candidate for that high office in 1836,
but defeated, the successful candidate, Mr. Van Buren, receiving
one hundred and seventy of the electoral votes, while Harrison
obtained but seventy. At the next trial, however, in 1840, he was
chosen President by a larger majority of votes in the electoral col-
lege than has ever yet been bestowed on any man ; for he received
two hundred and thirty -four votes out of the whole number of two
hundred and ninety-four. He was inaugurated on the 4th of March,
1841. One month later, to a day, he breathed his last, after a short
but severe illness, being the first President to die in that office. His
decease was caused principally by the excitement of his new posi-
tion, and the manner in which he was harassed, day and night, by
applicants for office. Popular in manners, and too easy of access, his
frame worn down by exposure and years, he gave way beneath the
exactions to which he was subjected. He died thinking of his coun-
try. " The constitution the constitution," were the words that were
132
WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON.
continually on his lips. The demonstrations of grief at his decease
were universal ; party rancor was forgotten for awhile j and the
nation, as one man, united to deplore its loss.
RICHARD M. JOHNSON.
HE state of Kentucky, so fertile in
great men, had the honor of giving
birth to Colonel Richard M. Johnson.
The early life of this distinguished
warrior was passed in the midst of
Indian alarms. While still an infani
he was sent with his mother to take
refuge in a frontier fort, against an in
rroad of the savages, his father being
absent in Virginia. The fort was
successfully defended by thirty men
against five hundred Indians. Similar perils inured the young Ken-
tuckian to danger ; while his active life hardened his frame.
His education was simple, as in all new countries. A common
xii 133
134 RICHARD M. JOHNSON.
school at first, and subsequently a grammar school prepared him for
the study of the law. At nineteen he began to practice this profes-
sion. At twenty-two he was elected to the legislature of his native
state. Little more than two years later, he was sent to Congress, as
a member of the House of Representatives, having just attained the
age required by the Constitution. Here he was called on to vote
for a war against England, which he did promptly, and immediately
afterwards prepared to sustain his opinion in the field.
When, after the successful defence of Fort Stephenson, Governor
Shelby, with four thousand men, marched to the assistance of Har
rison, Colonel Johnson commanded a regiment of mounted Ken-
tuckians. The force of Shelby arrived at head-quarters on the 17th
of September, 1813, a few days after Perry's victory. The men
were all in the highest spirits. The despondency of the preceding
year had passed away, and nothing was expressed but the most
confident belief in victory. Johnson's mounted regiment comprised
the whole cavalry of the Kentuckians ; the rest of the force, owing to
imperative circumstances, acting as infantry. It was partly in con-
sequence of this that his command played so prominent a part in
the approaching. campaign.
The victory of Perry had opened a new road for the invasion of
Canada, and one that ought to have been conquered a year before.
Instead of having to march through a wilderness, the Americans
had now only to embark on the lake, and be wafted by favorable
breezes, in a few hours, to their destination. Accordingly, on the
27th of September, seventeen days after Perry's victory, the Ameri-
cans with the exception of Johnson's regiment, which was to proceed
by land to Detroit, were embarked under convoy of the fleet, and
before night reached the Canadian shore. The landing was effected
without resistance, no enemy appearing in sight. Harrison pushed
rapidly forward to Ahmetsburg, where his troops bivouacked for
the night. This was the place where, on the preceding winter, the
prisoners captured at the Raisin had been huddled into a pen, and
where with tears of rage and despair, they first heard of the inhuman
massacre of their brothers, relatives and friends who had been left
wounded on the field of battle. As the recollection of this crowded
on the Americans, many a bitter vow of revenge was taken. In
sad memories like these the night was passed.
But in the morning it became known that Proctor, after dismant-
ling Maiden, and burning the barracks and navy -yard, and stripping
the surrounding country of horses and cattle, had begun a precipitate
retreat, early on the 26th. In fact, the British General had suddenly
RICHARD M. JOHNSON. 13-5
become a prey to terror. Like all who are brutal, he was a coward
in heart, and shook at the shadow of disaster. His spies had mag-
nified the number of the Americans to fifteen thousand, and declared
them to be made up chiefly of Kentuckians sworn to avenge the mur-
ders at the Raisin. The fear of falling into the hands of his enemies
completely unnerved him ; and he resolved by a speedy retreat to
save his pitiful life. In vain his officers pointed out to him that
there was still a chance of defending his post. In vain it was re-
presented that the larger portion of his Indian allies would abandon
him on the first symptoms of a retrogade movement. In vain the
heroic Tecumseh, who was above deserting even a coward in ex-
tremity, strove, by bitter taunts, to arrest his purpose. " Father,"
said the bold chief, "listen to your red children. They are standing
all around, ready to fight and die for you. Do not forsake, do not
alarm them. In the old war your fathers deserted ours. Will you
do it again ? You invited, encouraged, supplied us with arms, to
war on the Americans ! Ever since you desired it, we have fought
at your side ; and when did we turn our backs on the foe ? Listen
to us now, father. The ships went out to fight on the lake you
made them go out. Where are they? We do not know what
happened : we heard the great guns. They sounded loud and far,
and since we have seen you tying up bundles to carry away. You
told us always you would never run away : that the English never
do. Will you now run before you have even seen the enemy ?"
But nothing could allay the panic, or alter the resolution of Proctor.
He fled, and with such precipitancy, that he did not even stop to
destroy the bridges behind him.
When Harrison arrived at Maiden, accordingly, he found that
place only a smouldering ruin. The embers of the conflagration
were still smoking ; and the neighboring country looked as if just
ravaged by an invader. The barns were empty, the farms were
plundered of their stock, and the few miserable inhabitants remain-
ing bore the sad aspect of famine. At first, Harrison despaired of
overtaking the fugitives ; and on the 27th he wrote in that strain to
the Secretary of War. "I will pursue the enemy to-morrow," were
his words, " but there is no possibility of overtaking him, as he has
upwards of one thousand horses, and we have not one." But,
pushing forward to Sandwich, he there met to his inexpressible
satisfaction, Johnson's mounted regiment of Kentuckians, winding
along the other bank of the Detroit. During the march of this force
a circumstance had occurred which greatly inflamed them against
the enemy. Their way had led them by the scene of the massacre
136 RICHARD M. JOHNSON.
at the Raisin, where they found the bones of the victims which had
been piously interred in the preceding June, brutally exposed. The
Kentuckkins paused to consign them once more to the earth. While
engaged in this sad duty, an express from Harrison reached them,
urging them to hasten forward. The scene they had just witnessed
inflamed the Kentuckians to madness. They were more eager than
ever to overtake the enemy ; and pressing rapidly forward, joined
Harrison, as we have seen.
The tombined forces now marched in pursuit of Proctor. Never,
perhaps, had a greater number of gallant men, who were not pro-
fessional soldiers, left their homes and peaceful associations to avenge
the blood of their slaughtered relatives. There was Crittenden, and
Barry, and Wickliffe, names since conspicuous among the highest in
the councils of the nation. There was Perry, with the wreath of
victory still green on his brow : Clay, whose services and bravery in
the preceding campaign had won him merited renown : Cass, already
celebrated for that courage and ability, which still, after nearly forty
years, survive for the benefit of his country. There, too, was
Governor Shelby, one of the heroes of the Revolution, who had
fought at King's Mountain, and who now came, with a head silvered
by age, to fight in a new and scarcely less holy cause. One common
sentiment pervaded every bosom. To overtake the enemy, to avenge
the blood shed at Raisin, was the sole thought of those gallant Ken-
tuckians ! The pursuit was pushed with the greatest vigor. At
every step new proofs of Proctor's panic met the eye. Here were
stores abandoned in bulk, there arms scattered along the highway :
here despatches left to their fate, there ammunition itself cast away.
The road grew rougher as the army advanced; there were morasses
to be threaded and rivers to be crossed ; but unintimidated by any
obstacle, the Americans pushed resolutely forward, still thirsty for
vengeance. For three days the pursuit continued. At last, on the
morning of the 5th of October, the army of Harrison came up with
Proctor, and immediately preparations for a battle began.
The victory that followed was won chiefly by the regiment of
mounted Kentuckians, under Johnson, though to Harrison is due
the credit, in the capacity of leader, of directing their mode of
attack. On approaching the enemy, he was found arrayed on a
narrow strip of dry land, having the river Thames on his left, and a
swamp upon his right. The savages, of whom there were about
twelve hundred, under Tecumseh, occupied the extreme right on the
eastern margin of the swamp. The infantry, eight hundred in
number were posted between the river and swamp, the men drawn
RICHARD M. JOHNSON. 137
up, not close together, but at some distance apart, in open order as
it is called. Harrison had already made arrangements for attacking
with his infantry, but perceiving this position of the British regulars
to be favorable for a charge, he sent for Johnson, and asked him
if he would undertake it. " I have accustomed my men to it from
the first," was the reply. " Then charge !" said Harrison. Instantly
galloping to the head of his regiment, Johnson informed the men
of the duty before them, and the whole vast squadron, more than a
thousand strong, went thundering over the solid plain. In the
whole range of modern warfare, perhaps, there is no charge which
can be compared to this for reckless and romantic courage, for the
men weie armed only with guns, hatchets, and knives, and had no
sabres, tliat most necessary of all weapons in a melee. As they
swept dovn towards the foe, leaving the infantry of the army naif
a mile behind, Johnson perceived that the ground on which the
regulars -were drawn up, was too confined for the manoeuvres of
his whole legiment, and determined to divide his force, leaving to
one half th^ attack on the British infantry, while with the other he
resolved to go and seek the Indians under Tecumseh. In taking
this bold resolution, in the absence of his commanding officer, he
assumed the whole responsibility of victory or defeat. Accordingly,
dividing hif force, he consigned to Lieutenant-Colonel James John-
son, his brother, and second in command, the task of charging the
regulars, while he himself turned off towards the swamp, to assail
an enemy even more formidable.
The detachment under Lieutenant-Colonel James Johnson,
advanced at a rapid pace, and was soon close upon the foe, who,
at once, opened a heavy fire. The men came onward, in four columns
of double files, and at this volley the heads of the column halted.
"Forward, Kentuckians !" shouted Johnson, at this juncture.
Ashamed of their momentary hesitation, the men again shook their
bridles, and with a wild hurrah the solid masses of horsemen galloped on
the enemy, and in the face of a rapid fire, penetrated his ranks.
Wheeling rapidly, as soon as the British line was passed, the Ken-
tuckians poured in a destructive volley on his rear. The battle, in
this spot, was over in less time than we have taken to describe it,
for when the regiment wheeled, it found the enemy crying loudly
for quarters. This was immediately granted. A force was then
sent in pursuit of Proctor, who was understood to be further in the
rear ; but that General had already fled, having scarcely waited to
see the defeat of his soldiers. He left behind him, however, his
carriage, sword, and papers. His subsequent career furnished a
merited, though late retribution for his preceding cruelties. Arriv
xii* 18
138 EICHARD M. JOHNSON.
ing at Burlington Heights, he was met by an angry Governor-
General. He whose cruelty and rapacity had been overlooked in
victory, now found himself, like many another tool of power, made
to expiate his faults in consequence of defeat. Publicly disgraced
for avarice and cowardice, Proctor, from that moment becane as
much an object of scorn, even in his own country, as he had before
been one of dread in ours.
The attack of Johnson himself on Tecumseh, was, if possible,
executed with even more gallantry. Putting his squadron to a rapid
trot, he charged into the midst of the savages. On their part, the
Indians met this assault with unflinching bravery. For fire or six
minutes nothing was heard but the sharp ringing death-shot, and the
shouts of the Kentuckians, answered back by the war-whcop of the
savages, and the crack of their unerring rifles. Making right for the
spot where the voice and dress of a chief seemed to betoken the
presence of Tecumseh, Johnson strove to bring him D personal
combat, and, by his fall, to end the day. As he advanced, the
melee grew terrific. His men were falling on all sides around him;
he was himself wounded in three places. The smoke giew so thick
as almost to blind the eye. But still the Kentuckians pressed on
around their leader, and still the Indians, gathering b^ Tecumseh^
answered with shot and yell. The rifle-balls whistled thickly
past. Yet onward the Americans pressed. At last the dark form
of Tecumseh, who had all along been animating h:s troops, fell
prostrate, and, at the sight, a panic seizing his followers, they fled on
every side. By whose hand the chief died, has never been satisfac-
torily ascertained. The credit of the deed, however, has always
been Johnson's.
In 1832, Johnson was elected Vice President, and again in 1836. He
died in 1851.
ISAAC SHELBY.
HE enthusiasm with which the
volunteers of Kentucky rallied
to the defence of their country
in the summer of 1813, is to be
attributed in a great measure to
the influence of Isaac Shelby,
the venerable Governor of that
state. He joined the army of
Harrison with four thousand
Kentuckians, and fought in per-
son, at the age of sixty-three,
in the battle of the Thames. For
his valuable services in this campaign, Congress, on the 4th of April,
1818, voted him a gold medal.
Shelby was born on the estate of his family, near the North Moun-
139
140 ISAAC SHELBY.
tain, in Maryland, on the 1 1th of December, 1 750. His father, Ge-
neral Evan Shelby, was a distinguished soldier in the Indian wars,
and under his command the son served a first campaign against
the savages on the Scioto river, in 1774. He was in the awful bat-
tle of Kenhawa, fought during that year. The conflict raged from
sunrise to sunset ; and when the struggle was over, the ground along
the Ohio was strewed, for nearly half a mile with the bodies of the
slain.
In 1776, Shelby was appointed Captain of a body of minute-men
in Virginia. He was not, however, called into service, and in 1777,
he became attached to the commissary department. When, by the ex-
tension of the boundary line of North Carolina, Shelby's estate be-
came included in the latter colony, he was appointed a Colonel of
militia by Governer Caswell. He was absent in Kentucky, laying
out some lands he had purchased there five years before, when he
heard of the fall of Charleston, and instantly abandoning his private
affairs, he hurried to offer his sword to his country. Placing himself
at the head of a body of militia, he took part in several subsequent
skirmishes between the Americans and British. At last, on the 7th
of October, 1780, the battle of King's Mountain was fought, in which
the English leader, Major Ferguson, at the head of his riflemen, was
beaten, and that, too, in a position from which he had vaimtingly
declared, " God Almighty could not drive him." Shelby was one
of the commanders in this conflict. By a vote of the North Carolina
legislature, he and his brother Colonels were presented with elegant
swords for their behavior in this action. After serving two years
longer, chiefly under Marion, he retired from the army.
In 1783, Shelby returned to Kentucky, where he settled at Boons
borough. He was the first person in that State who took up a pre
emption grant for the purpose of cultivation ; and at his death, forty
three years after, was the only individual residing on his own
settlement and pre-emption. In 1812, he was elected Governor of
Kentucky. During the next year he organized a body of four thou-
send volunteers, and marching with them to the support of Harrison,
participated in the victory of the Thames. In 1817 he was offered
the War Department, but declined it in consequence of his age. He
survived until the 18th of July, 1826, when a stroke of apoplexy
terminated his useful and glorious life.
Shelby was brave to a fault. He could endure exposure and fa-
tigue without flinching. He was remarkable for a sound common
sense, which rendered his opinion more practically useful than that
f more brilliant men. In manners he was courteous.
8KNXBAL BBOWJt AT THE BATTLS OF CHTPFEWJU
JACOB BROWN.
given to the British.
T was reserved for the middle
states to be the first to rally the
drooping spirits of the country,
in the war of 1812. While New
England held coldly aloof from
the contest, and the south as yet
had scarcely roused herself for
action, New York and Pennsyl-
vania, then as now the two
greatest states of ^the confedera-
cy, came gallantly to the rescue.
It was on the soil of New York,
and principally by New York
troops that the first repulse was
It was a Pennsylvania General that won the
141
142 JACOB BROWN.
victory. We allude to the defeat of the enemy at Sackett's Harbor
by a combined force of regulars and militia under General Brown.
Jacob Brown, a Major-General in the American army, and per-
haps the ablest commander in the war of 1812, was born in Bucks
county, Pennsylvania, in the year 1775. His ancestors, for several
generations, had been members of the society of Friends. His
father was originally a farmer, but having embarked in trade, very
soon lost the whole of his property ; and his progeny, among them
Jacob, were thrown on the world to seek a subsistence, while still
children. This happened when the subject of our memoir was but
sixteen. Having an ordinary English education, he resolved to
make it useful as a country schoolmaster, and accordingly acted in
that capacity at Crosswicks, New Jersey, from his eighteenth to his
twenty-first year. At this period the tide of emigration was just
beginning to set towards Ohio, and young Brown, eager to improve
his fortunes, resolved to move out to that territory. He accordingly
went to Cincinnati, and obtaining employment as a surveyor,
iemainedtwo years in that vicinity; but finding the reality of west-
ern life less alluring than he had been led to expect it, he returned
to the eastern states. In 1798 he was teaching school in New York.
He continued at this, however, but a few months. He next turned
his attention to the law, but finally abandoned this also. He now-
purchased a tract of land in Jefferson county, New York, for he had
acquired some property in his various pursuits, and, in 1799, he
removed to his new possession, then a wild clearing in the heart of
the wilderness.
The district, however, rapidly improved ; and with the rise of its
fortunes rose those of Brown. Here on this exposed border, he
began to show those qualities of mind, which subsequently raised
him to the head of the American army, and which would have
enrolled his name among the most renowned of military command-
ers, if a wider sphere had been found for their exercise. Bold, saga-
cious, brave to a fault ; persevering, industrious, full of resources ;
firm and decided in character ; never shrinking from assuming the
responsibility of an action which his judgment approved, he was just
the man to acquire influence among the rough, but shrewd border-
ers with whom he was now thrown into contact. He soon took the
lead among his fellow-citizens, and was looked up to upon all occa-
sions. In 1809 he was appointed to command a regiment of militia,
and in 1811 elevated to the rank of a Brigadier-General. When
the war of 1812 broke out, he found himself at the head of a brigade,
and with the charge of defending two hundred miles of exposed
JACOB BROWN. 143
frontier. But this novel and responsible position found him full of
resources to meet the exigency. On the 4th of October, 1812, at the
head of four hundred men, he repulsed the British, eight hundred
strong, in an attack on Ogdensburg. His term of service having
expired shortly after, he returned home and resumed the plough.
The administration of Mr. Madison, appreciating his services and
ability, now endeavored to secure his aid permanently during the
war; and accordingly offered him a Colonel's commission in the regu-
lar army. This, however, he declined, not from unwillingness to
serve, but from a resolution not to take a lower rank than he already
held. He felt that he was fitted for great emergencies, and was con-
tent patiently to wait until he should be better appreciated. If that
never should occur, he was satisfied to remain in his peaceful avoca-
tion as a farmer. But never was there a truer saying than that talent
always finds its level, or never was it more forcibly exemplified than
in the cases of Jackson and Brown. Both were refused the commis-
sions they sought, in the beginning of the conflict ; yet both subse-
quently forced them, as it were, from the country, by their genius
for war. Both were emphatically heroes of the people. Both started
to life, robust and armed, military commanders full born. Both only
needed a wider sphere of action to have become among the most cele-
brated professors of the military art. With the field that opened itself
before the Marshals of Napoleon, Jackson would have rivalled Ney,
and Brown surpassed Macdonald.
The residence of Brown was in the neighborhood of Sackett's Har-
bor, at that time the chief depot for stores on the lake. Here was
collected the plunder of York ; here were building the vessels destined
to annoy the enemy ; and here were stowed the munitions of war
that had been transported, at great expense, from the Atlantic to the
shores of Lake Ontario. Though it was scarcely thought probable
that the British would venture to attack this place, the value of the
prize rendered it possible that the attempt might be made ; and Colo-
nel Backus, who had been left in command of the post, was instructed,
in case of any such expedition, to summon General Brown to his
assistance. It was not long before the contingency, thus provided
for, arrived. To retaliate for the capture of York, Prevost conceived
the design of attacking Sackett's Harbor. This idea was adopted
during a visit to Kingston, where he heard that General Dearborn
had withdrawn most of the garrison to assist in the expedition against
Fort George. Accordingly, on the 27th of May, 1813, Prevost began
his movement at the head of nearly a thousand men; his troops em-
barking in small boats, and under convoy of the fleet commanded by Sir
144 JACOB BROWBT.
James Yeo. It was his intention to reach Sackett's Harbor in the
night, and at daybreak to assault and carry the place by surprise.
The winds proved adverse, however, and it was not until ten o'c.bck
on the evening of the 28th that he reached his destination. At day-
break of the 29th he made his attack. Meantime, his fleet had been
seen on the lake, and notice promptly carried to the harbor. The
guns of the fort gave the alarm to the surrounding country. The
people rose. By noon of the 28th, six hundred militia had rallied to
the defence of the place ; and at their head came Brown, summoned
in this emergency, like Cincinnatus, from his plough. An express had
found him at his farm, eight miles from the harbor, and instantly mount-
ing, he had hurried to the scene of action, rousing the militia as he
came. His every movement marked the man born to command. The
crisis found him, cool, ready, inexhaustible. It was one of those emer-
gencies in which a bold and intrepid genius like his, finds its true ele-
ment, while minds of less power sink under the responsibility.
During the whole of the 28th the Americans were preparing for
the attack. Brown, being thoroughly acquainted with the neighbor-
hood, was at no loss to know the point where the enemy would proba-
bly land. His dispositions were made accordingly. He placed the mili-
tia and volunteers in the first line, and assigned to them the task of
meeting the enemy on his disembarkation. Midway between the
shore and village, and on ground rendered difficult of approach by an
abattis, he arranged the second line, which was composed of regular
troops, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Backus. A few
artillerists were charged with the custody of the forts, where, in case
of a defeat, Brown had prepared to make a last desperate stand.
The location of the front line was partially altered, almost at the mo-
ment of attack, in consequence of the enemy changing the point of
his disembarkation, when he saw the stubborn preparations of the
Americans. The troops, however, had full time to take their new
position before the enemy could land. Brown himself superintended
their line of battle. " Hide yourselves," he said, " as much as possi-
ble, and do not fire until you can see the buttons of the enemy. If you
are forced to retire, by superior numbers, throw yourselves into the
wood, rally, and assail the foe in flank. If you cannot then stop him,
retire on the left and rear of Colonel Backus, and wait for further
orders. Only be cool and resolute and the day is our own."
He had scarcely delivered these words when the British were seen
close at hand, their numerous boats apparently crowded with sol
diers. The day was partially clear, with a slight mist hanging
around ; and the glitter of the enemy's arms, perhaps, magnified his
JACOB BROWN. 145
numbers. None of the militia or volunteers had been in battle be-
fore ; and awe of the British regulars' skill haunted the popular
mind ; hence, when the front line of the Americans beheld the im-
posing array of the enemy, it lost its self-possession, and began to
fire too soon, and in a desultory manner. At such a crisis it is
astonishing how few can infect the whole mass. One or two at first
discharged their pieces, and this spread alarm in others, so that, in
less than a minute, the whole line had delivered its fire. As might
have been expected, the men overshot their assailants, and scarcely
one of the enemy was seen to fall. The inefficiency of their fire
increased the perturbation of the volunteers ; each looked for coun-
tenance in his neighbor and found none ; a panic was the conse-
quence ; and the whole body, breaking ground, took to flight igno-
miniously. In vain their officers strove to rally them. Once thorough-
ly frightened, nothing could allay their terror. Forgetful of Brown's
orders to collect again in the wood, forgetful of the direction after-
wards to gather in the rear of Colonel Backus, forgetful of everything
but their own alarm, they hurried frantically onward, some even
throwing away their guns, a mortifying and cowardly spectacle
Two companies, however, resisted this general consternation. They
were headed by Captains M'Nett and Collins, and gallantly rallied
to the fight.
With inexplicable chagrin, Brown saw the flight of the militia and
volunteers ; but his second line still stood firm, and to this he now
devoted all his attention. By the disgraceful retreat of the front
line, the position of the regulars, however, was rendered untenable.
But this did not disconcert Brown. Falling back, step by step, dis-
puting every inch of ground, he took shelter in some log huts which
had been prepared for the winter accommodation of the soldiers, and
here prepared to resist the now overpowering numbers of the enemy.
This new post he soon rendered impregnable. In vain the British,
flushed with their first victory, advanced with loud cheers to the
assault. A sharp and well aimed volley checked their steps. Brown
did not give them time to recover, before he threw in another vol-
ley. At this moment, however, flames were seen rising from the
place where the stores were collected ; for the officer left in their
charge, seeing the flight of the front line, had deemed the day lost,
and h'astened to execute his orders. Soon dark volumes of pitchy
smoke began to roll upwards to the sky, relieved here and there by
forky tongues of flame, leaping about in the wildest confusion. Ani-
mated by this sight, the British raised a second shout, and rushed
foi ward, under cover of a heavy fire. But the American regulars,
19
146 JACOB BROWN.
with the heroic Backus at their head, stood immoveable. For a few-
minutes only the result was doubtful. The vollies of the enemy
rattled without intermission, and the scanty front of the Americans
was enveloped in sheets of fire. Soon the British began to waver.
At this moment Backus, while cheering on his men, received a
mortal shot, and fell in the arms of victory. Brown, meantime,
had hastened to the rear, and succeeded in rallying three or four
nundred of the militia, with whom he advanced to cut off the
enemy's rear. But the British, alarmed at this demonstration, now
began to retire on all sides. Indeed, to have remained longer, a
mark for the deadly fire from the block-house and battery, would
have been madness, even if their retreat had not been threatened.
Accordingly, Prevost drew off his men, and forming them on the
east of the hill proceeded immediately after to re-embark. As they hur-
ried to their boats, mortified and enraged at this unexpected result,
their sight was cheered by a spectacle, which, in part afforded a
grim satisfaction for their disgrace. It was the burning barracks
and store-houses. These buildings were now a sheet of flame, and
being filled with highly combustible materials, the roar of the con-
flagration was heard far and near. By that stern music the enemy
re-embarked.
The intelligence of this victory was hailed with rapturous
applause throughout the Union, and by universal consent Brown
rose at once to a first place in the public opinion. The government
showed its grateful appreciation of his conduct by creating him a
Brigadier. Both friend and foe acknowledged, as if by secret instinct,
that a military leader of ability had arisen at last in this country.
An opinion which heretofore had been breathed only in whis-
pers, was now boldly proclaimed: it was said that the incom-
petency of the old Generals had been endured long enough,
and that it was full time that abler commanders, fresh from
the people, should have their places. From this period, indeed, we
may date an improvement in the character of the leaders, and a
more daring spirit of enterprise in the management of the war.
The days of the Hulls, Wilkinsons, and Dearborns, were nearly
over ; that of the Browns, Scotts, Jessups, and Jacksons, was
approaching. The spirit of the people which had begun to despond,
from this hour rallied ; enthusiasm took the place of want of confi
dence ; and headed by leaders whom it could love, the army went
gallantly from victory to victory. Chippewa and Lundy's Lane
followed upon Sackett's Harbor, and the brilliant spectacle closed at
New Orleans in a blaze of glory !
The letter in which Brown modestly announced his victory, is
JACOB BROWN. 147
worthy of being preserved : it is terse, unaffected, and eminently
characteristic of the man. There is nothing of exaggeration, nothing
of bombast about it. In reading it, we perceive that victory has not
destroyed the even balance of his mind.
"MAY29TH, 1S13.
We were attacked at the dawn of this day by a British regular
force of at least nine hundred men, most probably twelve hundred.
They made their landing at Horse Island. The enemy's fleet con-
sisted of two ships and four schooners, and thirty large open boats,
We are completely victorious. The enemy lost a considerable num-
ber of killed and wounded on the field, among the number several
officers of distinction. After having re-embarked, they sent me a
flag, desiring to have their killed and wounded attended to. I have
made them satisfied on that subject. Americans will be distinguished
for humanity and bravery. Our loss is not numerous, but serious
from the great worth of those who have fallen. Colonel Mills was
shot dead at the commencement of the action ; and Colonel Backus,
of the first regiment of light dragoons, nobly fell at the head of
his regiment as victory was declaring for us. I will not presume to
praise this regiment ; their gallant conduct on this day merits much
more than praise. The new ship, and Commodore Chauncey's
prize, the Duke of Gloucester, are safe in Sackett's Harbor. Sir
George Prevost landed and commanded in person. Sir James Yeo
commanded the enemy's fleet.
In haste, yours, &c.,
_, ^ JACOB BROWN."
On receiving a commission in the regular army, Brown at once
abandoned his farm, and devoted himself to the service of his coun-
try. He accompanied Wilkinson, in the ensuing autumn, in his
expedition down the St. Lawrence. Being the officer of the day
during the passage of the British fort at Prescott, the direction of
that difficult and somewhat perilous enterprise devolved on himself,
a task which he performed with signal skill and resolution. At
French Creek he repulsed, with his brigade, an imposing force of
the enemy. He moved continually in advance of the main army
and was already several miles ahead of Wilkinson, pressing on to
Montreal, when he received, with undisguised chagrin, the order of
that officer to fall back, since the expedition was to be abandoned.
The army now retired to winter quarters. Wilkinson, on the plea
of sickness, left the camp, and the other seniors of Brown being also
absent, he now found himself at the head of the army. Early in
the year 1814, he was promoted to the rank of Major-General.
148
JACOB BROWN.
The new campaign accordingly opened under the happiest aus-
pices. The elevation of Brown to the chief command at once inspired
confidence. His gallantry at Sackett's Harbor, and his courage
under Wilkinson, were the theme of every tongue. His officers
were in the highest spirits, and the men relied on victory. Mean-
time, he left no preparatory measures untried which could assist in
securing success, particularly devoting himself to the thorough disci-
pline of his troops. In this task he found a valuable assistant in
Scott, then just elevated to the rank of a Brigadier. That officer
established a camp of instruction at Buffalo, where, adopting the
system of Napoleon's army, the officers were first rigorously drilled,
without regard to rank, by the commanding General ; and then
these officers in turn, instructed the rank and file under their immedi-
ate eye. It was in fact renewing the scenes of Valley Forge, when
Baron Steuben first made soldiers of the raw levies of Washington,
and with the same effect. The one trained the men, who, a few
months later, drove the British grenadiers at Monmouth ; the other
instructed the future conquerors of Chippewa and Lundy's Lane.
Having become satisfied with the proficiency of his troops, Brown
resolved to cross the Niagara, and begin the aggressive. Accord-
ingly, on the 3d of July, 1813, the brigade of Scott was sent over to
the British shore, below Fort Erie, and was followed, on the same
JACOB BROWN. 149
day by that of Ripley, which landed below. Fort Erie, being thus
invested, surrendered without firing a shot. Leaving a small garri-
son in the captured fort, Brown now pushed forward in the direc
tion of Chippewa, where the main body of the British was known
to be encamped. The enemy's force was commanded by Major
General Riall, and was estimated at three thousand. The brigade
of Scott moved in advance of the rest of the American army, with
orders to drive in any outlying parties of the British it should meet.
The day was that glorious one in the history of our country, the
fourth of July. As the troops marched, the national air greeted
their ears at frequently recurring intervals, amid prouder bursts of
music ; while the soft summer breeze that floated by, dallied with
the flag of America, making the stars dance and quiver in the morn
ing sunbeams. Every man felt inspirited by the scene, by the
music, and by the associations ; and with quickened steps marched
on. It was not long before a detachment of the British army, con-
sisting of the one-hundredth regiment, came in sight. This body
was commanded by the Marquis of Tweedale. A sharp action im-
mediately ensued, which continued for some hours, being maintained
as a running fight, the Americans advancing, and the English falling
back. At last, after a retreat of sixteen miles, the enemy reached
the Chippewa river, across which he hastily retired. Dusk was
now gathering around the landscape. On the opposite shore,
however, could be discerned through the gloom the dark masses of
Riall's army, protected by heavy batte ries, in the midst of which the one
hundredth regiment had taken refuge. To have maintained the
pursuit at that hour, and under the circumstances, would have been
madness. Accordingly, halting his troops, Scott resolved to await
the arrival of the main body, and his men, in consequence, pitched
their camp about two miles from that of the enemy. So close were
the two armies, and so calm and still was the night, that as
the hours wore on, the troops in either army could distinguish the
various noises of the enemy ; and many a brave soldier, as he
bivouacked on the bare ground, heard these sounds in dreams,
where mingling with thoughts of home, they produced a strange
medley of sad and sweet images.
The morning dawned close and sultry. Not a cloud obscured the
sky, and scarcely a breath of wind stirred, ominous signs these of a
hot and dusty day for the battle that impended. The British lay
behind the Chippewa, commanding a bridge that led across the
stream and debouched into a comparatively open plain. This plain,
at its opposite extremity, was bounded by another small stream,
XIII*
150 JACOB BROWN.
called Street's Creek, behind which the American army had taken
up its position the night before. On its two other sides this plain
was skirted by the Niagara River, and by a belt of heavy woodland.
Nature appeared, indeed, to have constructed the piece of ground
expressly for a field of battle, and both commanders, sensible of
this, seemed to have made up their minds here to try their fortunes.
Brown was already preparing to leave his position, cross into the
plain, and attack the enemy in his lines at Chippewa, when the
videttes announced that Riall was beginning to appear in force on
the plain himself, as if eager to seek the proffered contest. This
news was soon followed by the sound of firing, showing that the
advanced posts of the two armies had begun to skirmish. The wood
which we have mentioned, and which was on the American left,
now began to swarm with the militia and Indians of the enemy,
which, gaining ground as the day advanced, by noon were able
materially to annoy the American pickets. Brown, on this,
despatched General Porter with the volunteers and militia, by a
circuitous route, to get in the rear of the Indians, and cut them off
from the main body. At the same time he ordered his advance to
fall back, in hopes thus to draw them on. In about half an hour,
however, Porter came suddenly upon the light parties of the enemy
in the wood. A heavy fire succeeded from each of the opposing
detachments, and was maintained for some time, when the British
irregulars gave way, and began to retire on Chippewa. The retreat^
however, had not progressed far, when it was checked by the
arrh al of the main body of the enemy on the field. The British
irregulars now rallied, and with exulting cheers, deeming the day
their own, bore down on the American line. For a moment the
latter withstood the shock, but soon intimidated by the imposing
front of the enemy's regulars, which now extended far and near
they broke and fled. Every effort of General Porter to check their
dismay, was in vain.
Brown himself had been in the wood with Porter, when the noise
of firing in the direction of Chippewa attracted his attention, and
immediately he knew by the clouds of dust rising in the *distance,
that the enemy was advancing. It was now four o'clock. The sun,
declining in the western firmament, threw a yellow haze across the
plain ; and a myriad of particles, seemingly of fine gold dust, formed a
canopy over the British army. Occasionally, a light breeze, drifting
aside this veil, disclosed the flashing arms, the blackened banners,
and the confident step of Riall's veterans : for the regulars of that
General were no common troops, but men disciplined on many a
JACOB BROWN. 151
hard fought field, and proud of their frequent victories. Now and
then a puff of white smoke, looking in the distance as if from a
solitary gun, would shoot out from this gilded curtain, and immedi-
ately afterwards, a faint report came struggling up to the ear.
Perhaps never did any General gaze on a more splendid spectacle.
But not a moment was to be lost, and so, putting spurs to his horse,
Brown galloped, with his suite, in the direction of the bridge,
which, crossing Street's Creek, in front of the American camp, was
the only outlet for our army into the plain beyond. Just before he
reached that spot, he met General Scott, who, in ignorance of the
advance of the British, was moving his brigade in that direction, in
relief dress, merely for the purpose of a drill. Brown drew in his
rein, and pointing with his sword across to the plain, said to his
subordinate : " The enemy is coming up you will have a fight
move on, and cross the bridge." Having pronounced these words,
he passed hastily to the rear, to put Ripley's brigade in motion, and
to re-assemble the light troops behind Street's Creek.
In an instant every man in the brigade of Scott was aware of
the order, and with an alacrity that showed they had not forgotten
the triumph of the day before, they moved towards the bridge. It
was not until he reached this spot that Scott could obtain a sight of
the foe. He then saw the British veterans, however, displayed on
the plain, their masses of infantry intermixed with dragoons and
artillery, extending far away to right and left, without a perceptible
gap in the whole of that long front. A battery of nine pieces,
within point blank, opened its fire on the bridge as soon as the
Americans appeared. Scott did not hesitate a moment, however,
but immediately crossed, and in perfect order, though riot without
loss. As soon as the first and second battalions, led by Majors
Leavenworth and McNeilly, had reached the plain, they promptly
formed a line in front, which brought them opposite, respectively, to
the left and centre of the enemy. When the third battalion, which
was commanded by Major Jessup, had traversed the bridge, Scott
moved it off obliquely to the left, in order to prevent the British
from outflanking him in that direction. This left the spaces between
the battalions of considerable size ; but no other resource remained.
The artillery under Captain Towson, was stationed to the right,
resting on the Chippewa road. No sooner had it got into position,
than the guns were promptly unlimbered, and soon opened with
terrible effect on the columns of the enemy. Meantime, the two
armies continued to advance on each other, the troops halting to fire,
and then pushing on, until the space between became packed with
152 JACOB BROWN.
smoke. The English officers had been told that Scott had nothing
but militia with him; but when they saw the coolness with which
his troops came into action, one of them exclaimed : " If these are
militia, God keep the regulars from us !"
The right of the British had been pushed so far, in the hope of
outflanking the Americans, that it had actually entered the forest,
and thither Major Jessup following it, according to his orders not to
be outflanked, it became finally separated from the main body. This
ga^ve the British a new right flank on the plain, threatening to effect
the very purpose that Jessup had been sent to defeat. Scott, per-
ceiving this, hastened to throw forward the left flank of O'Neil's
battalion, which brought it obliquely to the enemy's front, and, in
turn, outflanked him a little. All this time the two armies had con-
tinued to approach each other, keeping up a constant and heavy
fire. Scott, just before, noticing that Towson overshot the enemy,
galloped down the line to the battery, and seeing its gallant com-
mander so enveloped in smoke, that neither he nor his men
could see the British any longer, had pointed them out.
Instantly changing the direction of his pieces, Towson pre-
pared to load them for a final discharge, while Scott returned
back to the battalions on the right, where he executed the move-
ment by which he outflanked the foe. At this crisis, the enemy
was not more than eighty paces distant. It was the moment for
decisive action. To have waited an instant, would have given
Riall the opportunity, perhaps, to extend his flank, and recover the
advantage he had just lost. But this instant Scott did not allow him.
Turning to M'Neil's battalion, he pointed with his sword towards
the enemy, and in a voice that rose, loud and distinct over all the
uproar of the strife, shouted : " Men of the eleventh ! the enemy say
we are good at a long shot, but cannot stand the cold iron. I call on
you to give the lie to that slander. Charge !" At the word, the
bayonets of that veteran battalion were levelled, and they rushed
upon the foe, a bristling wall of steel. Instantaneously, too, Leaven-
worth's battalion, which held an oblique position on the enemy's
light, sprang also to the charge, and thus crushed, as it were,
between two moving phalanxes, the British, with a wild cry of horror
broke and fled. The final impulse to their panic, if any had been
wanting, was given by the fire of Towson's pieces, which, at this
critical moment, sent their tempest of grape through and through the
enemy's ranks. Almost simultaneously too, Major Jessup, in the
wood, had advanced his men to a new and more secure position,
where their fire proved so hot and quick, that the foe there were
forced to retire also.
JACOB BROWN. 153
While the brigade of Scott had been achieving this victory, that
of Ripley had not been inactive. Brown had no sooner left Scott than
he placed himself at the head of these battalions, and advanced with
them on the left, behind the woods, hoping to gain the rear of the
enemy's right flank. But by the almost instantaneous success of
Scott, the foe was* in full retreat before this could be effected. The
whole of the American army, now uniting, however, advanced
with loud cheers, the bands playing in triumph. It is said to have
been a magnificent spectacle. The sun hung on the very verge of
the horizon, and the dust that floated over the plain was more
golden than ever, while here and there were particles of smoke that
lit by a stray beam, gleamed out like frosted silver on the scene. As
the victors pressed on across the plain, they found it everywhere
strewed with the dead and dying, proving how destructive had been
their fire. As soon as the British gained the sloping ground descend-
ing towards Chippewa, they broke and ran to their trenches-
The pursuit was not stopped until the enemy had thrown him-
self across the Chippewa, and found a secure covert within his
entrenchments. By this time Brown had arrived in person, and
ordered the ordnance to be brought up, intending to force the works,
but their strength, and the lateness of the hour, induced him to
abandon the attempt. The sun had now gone down. One by one
the stars appeared in the sky, but notwithstanding this, the darkness
increased ; for the clouds of dust settling but slowly, still hung over
the plain, and added to the gloom of the hour. All things seemed
gradually to assume a look and voice of foreboding. The wind was
heard wailing in the recesses of the neighboring forest ; the Niagara
surged mournfully along ; and from the plain rose up alow, confused,
but melancholy murmur, for there, nearly a thousand men lay, moan-
ing in suffering, or looking up with dead, pale faces, to the stars !
As the night deepened, however, that ominous mingling of sounds
grew fainter and fainter, as soul after soul went up to its Maker.
Humane steps at last were heard on that plain, and the wounded
were borne off and succored. Finally a death-like silence fell on all
the landscape. The two armies, in their respective camps, slept
in deep slumber after the fatigues of the day, and no sound broke
the profound stillness, except the occasional cry of a sentry, or the
hoarse murmur of the Niagara.
The second day after this battle, the Americans crossed the Chip-
pewa, the British burning their barracks, abandoning their position,
and retiring to forts Niagara and George. Brown followed in
pursuit. The expectation of receiving some heavy guns from
20
154
JACOB BROWN.
Sackett's Harbor, delayed his movements for the next fortnight ; but,
on the 25th of July, having received an express from General Gaines,
advising him of the blockade of that port, by a superior force, he was
compelled to abandon his designs against the forts at the mouth of
the Niagara, and seek success in some other enterprise. His active
mind was not long in fixing on its prey. He determined to dis-
encumber the army of baggage, and march directly on Burlington
Heights. But in order to conceal this intention from the enemy, as
well as to obtain a supply of provisions from Schlosser, he fell back
on Chippewa. Meantime, however, Lieutenant-General Drum-
mond, mortified at the repulse of the British by an inferior force,
had hurried up from York, bringing with him all the troops he could
collect at that and other posts on the peninsula. Assuming command
of the army in person, he advanced boldly against the Americans.
This was just at the period when they were falling back on Chip-
pewa. Brown, being advised of the movement of Drummond,
halted. That same evening he received a communication from the
American shore, apprizing him that the enemy had landed a
FOBT NIAGARA.
thousand men at Lewistown, nine miles below the Chippewa, for
some object not understood. Alarmed for the stores at Schlosser,
Brown determined, by threatening the forts at the mouth of the
JACOB BROWN. 155
Niagara, to recall the British. Accordingly, he ordered Scott, with
all the troops he could collect on the moment, to advance. In twenty
minutes, Scott was in motion. He carried with him his own brigade,
Towson's artillery, and the dragoons and mounted men, in all about
thirteen hundred combatants.
The battle that ensued, is known by the names of Queenstown,
jLundy's Lane, and Niagara, indiscriminately. It was in fact, two
separate conflicts. In the first, the enemy was driven from his posi-
tion, and then, taking up a new one, the struggle began again, and
was continued until midnight. In the earlier conflict, Scott's
brigade fought nearly alone, and was terribly cut up. In fact, this
General, when he went into action, supposed that he was about to
meet the same force he had already met at Chippewa, and no more,
\vhereas it had been strongly reinforced by Drummond. Scott stood
his ground, however, until Brown could bring up the brigade of
Ripley, when his shattered troops were drawn off, though, later in
the night, they came again into action. The enemy was finally
beaten. Before the victory, however, was complete, Brown had
received two wounds, and was so reduced by loss of blood, that he
had to be supported on his horse from the field. Scott having been
also wounded, the command devolved on General Ripley. This
General had been ordered by Brown to begin the action again early
in the morning, but failed to do so, in consequence of which the
English remained masters of the field, and a retreat to Fort Erie
became necessary. It was his conduct in this emergency which
induced Brown to pronounce Ripley an officer, not wanting indeed in
physical bravery, but sadly deficient in moral courage, or the nerve
to assume responsibility in critical circumstances.
Not possessing confidence in Ripley, one of the first acts of Brown
was to send for General Gaines, who, as senior officer, on his arrival,
would supersede Ripley in the command of Fort Erie. Here Gaines
won unfading laurels by his gallant repulse of the enemy from before its
walls. But having received a wound from a shell, the fort again
fell in the charge of Ripley, and the anxiety of Brown became so
great, that early in September, as soon as his wounds were suffi-
ciently healed, he repaired in person to Fort Erie, and assumed the
direction of its defence. He found the place in a critical emergency.
The besieging force was more than douMe that of the garrison, and
was continually increasing. Although reinforcements had been
ordered up from Lake Champlain, they were yet far distant, and
some time must necessarily elapse before they could appear. Mean-
time the fort might be stormed successfully by overwhelming
156 JACOB BROWN.
numbers. In this perilous condition of affairs, the bold and decided
genius of Brown was the salvation of the garrison. After waiting
from the 2d until the 17th of September, daily suffering more and
more from the fire of the enemy, the American General, noticing
that a new battery was about to be erected, resolved on a sortie.
The works of the besiegers consisted of two lines of investment,
supported by block-houses, in the front of which, at suitable points,
batteries were erected. The camp of the enemy was nearly two
miles in the rear of their works. Brown noticed that a brigade of
twelve or fifteen hundred men usually occupied these works, and
was relieved, in turn,by two other brigades of equal strength. Brown's
plan was to issue forth suddenly with as powerful a force as he
could muster, storm the batteries, spike the cannon, and, if possible,
cut to pieces the brigade on duty, before assistance could be sum-
moned from the camp. The scheme was hazardous perhaps, but
with such a General to lead the troops, at least promised success.
Accordingly, on the morning of the 17th, the garrison was ordered
to parade at noon, in readiness for the sortie. The volunteers, led
by General Porter, the riflemen of Colonel Gibson, and Major
Brooks, with the first and twenty-third infantry, accompanied by a
few dragoons, acting as infantry, were instructed to move from the
extreme left on the right of the enemy, by a road which had been
secretly opened through the woods for the purpose. The command
of General Miller was ordered to station itself in the ravine between
the enemy's batteries and Fort Erie, by passing in detachments
through the skirts of the wood. The twenty-first infantry, under
General Ripley, was directed to post itself, as a reserve, between
the new bastions of Fort Erie. All these troops, by these arrangements,
would be kept under cover, and out of view of the enemy, until the
moment for decisive action. Then, all at once, they would burst on
the foe.
When the signal was given, the troops rushed forward from their
respective stations with the greatest impetuosity. The left column,
led by General Porter, began the action. These brave men had
stolen forward through the wood on the enemy's right, until they
arrived, unperceived, close to his entrenchments : then, at the word
of their commander, they raised a shout, and advanced at quick
step upon the foe. Hearing the report of the musketry, Brown, who
had remained in the ravine, knew that the action was begun on the
left, and accordingly ordered Miller to advance and pierce the
enemy's entrenchments between the two batteries in front. This
division also sprang to the assault with cheers. The astonished
JACOB BROWN. 157
enemy, at first, lost his self-possession, but soon recovering himself,
rallied to the defence of his battery. A deadly fire accordingly
greeted the Americans. But unintimidated, the gallant assailants
rushed forward, cleared the ramparts, drove the enemy from his
works, and planted their flag on the embrasure of the captured forti-
fication. In less than thirty minutes after firing the first gun, the
Americans were masters of the field, two of the enemy's batteries,
his line of entrenchments, and his two block-houses being in pos-
session of the storming parties. The victors then hastened to spike
the cannon. The magazine of the batteries was blown up. The
enemy still, however, maintained a desultory, though stubborn
resistance, as he retreated ; and the reserve, which had been ordered
up, was brought into action, while a portion of the remaining troops
proceeded with the work of demolition. The object of the sortie
having been accomplished, the Americans were now drawn off, and
retired to the fort. The victory had been signal and complete. In a
single hour the labor of fifty days on the part of the besiegers had
been utterly destroyed. About four hundred British had been taken
prisoners, and as many more wounded or killed. The moral effect
of the sortie was even greater. The enemy recognized in this bold
and brilliant stroke, the hand that had dealt him such terrible blows at
Chippewa and Lundy's Lane, and from that hour, abandoning all
hopes of reducing the place, lent his thoughts only to the best
means of effecting a safe retreat. A few days after, he raised the
siege, and retired behind the Chippewa.
These series of successes on the part of Brown, beginning with
Sackett's Harbor, and ending with Fort Erie, surrounded his name
with an eclat similar to that which, about the same time, was won
by Decatur on another element. Indeed, the career of this General
is a forcible illustration of what genius alone can do. During the
two preceding years of the war, our arms on land had met with an
almost constant succession of disasters, though, at that time, they
were not opposed by any of the veteran English troops, such as in
1814, appeared in the field. But when the peace in Europe had disen-
gaged the conquerors of the peninsula, our troops, instead of being
utterly annihilated before these renowned soldiers, suddenly began to
achieve victories, and that too, against superior numbers. The
nation could scarcely believe the first reports of the victory of Chip-
pewa. It had been supposed that if Brown could manage to engage
a smaller force than his own, his ability and courage would, perhaps,
obtain a triumph; but this astonishing success transcended every
hope. The result was chiefly owing to the genius of the General.
XIV
158
JAtOB BROWN.
His sagacity in adapting his means to his end, was well known to the
troops, and inspired them with a confidence that whatsoever he
undertook he could carry through; besides, by a thorough dis-
cipline of his men, he rendered them the equals of Wellington's
veterans. With such soldiers, and such a leader, victory was
certain.
The war terminated, at least in the north, with the campaign of
1814. After the peace, Brown was continued in the army, and
assigned the command of the northern military division. His life, how-
ever, was paid a forfeit to his services, for he had contracted a disease at
Fort Erie, which was an almost constant source of suffering to him,
and which, in the end, produced his death. But he lived first to
reach the elevated post of senior Major-General, and Commander-
in-chief of the army of the United States. This happened in 1821.
On the 24th of February, 1828, he died in Washington City, where he
had resided since he rose to the chief command.
ELEAZER W. RIPLEY.
HE real hero of Lundy's Lane was
General Winfield Scott. But that
officer having been wounded, was
forced to retire from the field, and
General Brown, the Commander-in-
chief, being also disabled, the direc-
tion of affairs devolved upon General
Ripley. This gentleman was a leader
of spirit and discipline, but not equal
in ability to either of his superiors.
He wanted their resolution, though
not their courage, and, perhaps,
shrank from assuming responsibility
in critical and uncommon emergen-
cies. Among the earlier Generals of the Avar, he would have shone
159
160 ELEAZER W. RIPLET.
superior. But it required pre-eminent qualifications to win distinc
tion by the side of Brown and Scott.
Eleazer Wheelock Ripley, was born in Hanover, New Hampshire,
in the year 1782. On his maternal side, he was descended from the
celebrated Captain Miles Standish, the hero of the early Plymouth
settlers. Young Ripley received an excellent education, graduating
at Dartmouth College, in his eighteenth year, with the highest
honors. He subsequently studied law,, and settled at Winslow,
in Massachusetts. In 1807, we find him a member of the legisla
ture of Massachusetts. He was already prominent as a man of
influence, and gave his voice, as early as 1808, in favor of a war
with both England and France, provided those two powers did not
cease their aggressions on this country. In 1811, he was elected
to succeed the late Hon. Joseph Story, as speaker of the House of
Representatives in Massachusetts. In 1812, he came out boldly for
a war with Great Britain, and this too, in opposition to the general
sentiment in his adopted state. His patriotism was rewarded by
the commission of a Lieutenant-Colonel in the army of the United
States. He was appointed to the command of a sub-district, extend-
ing from Saco to the eastern frontier, and to his other duties was
soon added the superintendence of the recruiting service. In a short
time he had obtained sufficient recruits to form a regiment, which
was called the twenty-first, and placed under his command.
Ripley was one of the first officers to introduce that exact and
rigid discipline into our armies, which subsequently rendered the
American soldiers a match for the veterans of Wellington. The
winter of 1812, Ripley spent at Burlington, Vermont, engaged in
perfecting his regiment, which now became a model for all others.
In March, 1813, he repaired to Sackett's Harbor, where the army
was collecting for the attack on York. Ripley shared in that enter-
prise, and received a wound from the explosion. He was present
also at the capture of Fort George. In July, he returned to Sackett's
Harbor, where he was occupied until October, in perfecting the dis-
cipline of the large body of recruits collecting at that depot. He took
part in the descent of the St. Lawrence, in .[November of that year,
and afterwards, retiring to Sackett's Harbor, remained in winter
quarters there until the spring of 1814. On the 15th of April of that
year, Colonel Ripley was created a Brigadier-General, and joined
the army of Brown, about to begin the glorious campaign of that
season, on the Niagara. He was present with his command, at the
battle of Chippewa, on the 5th of July. Subsequently, on the 24tb
of the same month, he played a prominent part in the battle ot
ELEAZER W. RIPLET. 161
Lundy's Lane, certainly the most hotly contested, if not the most
splendid action of the war.
On the afternoon of that day, Brown received a note from a trust-
worthy source, informing him that the British had thrown a thou-
sand men across from Queenstown to Lewistown, nine miles below
Chippewa. The American General, conjecturing that the enemy's
object was to capture our stores at Schlosser, and intercept supplies
coming down from Buffalo, immediately determined to recall him
from this design, by threatening his forts at the mouth of the Niagara.
Accordingly, Scott's brigade was detached with this purpose. Scott had
proceeded about two miles in the direction of the forts, when,
from a hill, he discerned some British officers near a mansion about a
mile distant. Advancing,' he learned that the enemy was in some
force on the other side of a wood ahead. The command of this
spirited young officer consisted of thirteen hundred men ; but, as he
believed that half of Riall's brigade had been thrown across the
Niagara, he did not hesitate to push on. " We whipped them at
Chippewa," he said to his soldiers, " and we can do it again, my
lads !" Having hurried off a messenger to Brown, announcing the
vicinity of the foe, he prepared to pass the woods, in front of
Forsyth's house, the mansion where the officers had been seen just
before. What was his astonishment, however, to perceive directly
in his front, drawn up in Lundy's Lane, a force, which his practised
eye knew to be superior to that he had encountered at Chippewa.
As he wheeled in their front, the clatter of musketry, and the roar
of artillery, simultaneously crashed upon his ears, and, for a moment,
his men recoiled before the fire with which they were thus unexpec-
tedly greeted.
The crisis was one to try the courage of the boldest. The enemy
were evidently in very strong force, and admirably posted. Scott,
in reality, was in a trap. To have retreated, under the circum-
stances, would have been the course of an ordinary leader; but this
gallant young commander was too spirited for this, and besides, he
knew that to fall back, would create a panic in the reserve, then
coming up, and which had never yet flushed itself in battle. His
determination was instantaneous and heroic. "We will all die here,"
he said, " but never yield an inch." And, ordering the troops to
deploy into line, at a distance of but one hundred and fifty paces
from the foe, the sanguinary struggle began. The sun was only
half an hour high, and already the western sky was tipped with purple
tints. Soon the thick smoke that rolled upwards from the field,
darkened the prospect. Near by was that eternal cataract, which,
xiv* 21
162 ELEAZER W. RIPLET.
pouring the waters of four lakes down its gigantic abyss, keeps up,
night and day, the same unceasing roar : and continually, between
the sharp explosions of the platoon firing, that deep bass rose like a
grand symphony.
Lundy's Lane is a ridge, nearly at right angles with the Niagara
river. Here, the enemy was posted, his left being in a road parallel
to the stream, and hence at right angles to the lane. A space of two
hundred yards covered with brushwood, extended between the two
positions of the British army. Scott, with prompt genius, availing
himself of this separation, ordered Major Jessup, under cover of the
approaching twilight, to steal along these bushes, and turn the
enemy's left. The order was quickly executed. So unexpectedly
did Jessup burst on that portion of the British line, that it gave way
on the instant before him, and General Riall, with other officers,
was taken prisoner. To have kept the position, however, would
have been impossible. Hence, with loud cheers, Jessup's command
charged back, cutting off a portion of the enemy's left wing, and
renewed its position in the line under Scott's immediate command.
The British now made an attempt to turn our right, but this was
promptly met by Scott, who detached Major M'Neill, with his
battalion, to drive back the enemy. A furious conflict ensued. The
shame of being baffled by an inferior force, seemed to transport the
British to madness, and they fought, at this point, with even more
than the desperate valor they had shown at Badajoz, Ciudad Rode-
rigo, and San Sebastian. But the Americans, stimulated by the glory of
repulsing such veterans, met them with a blaze of musketry that
almost blinded the sight. Then was seen what men will do and
suffer when inflamed by the rage of battle. The soldiers, on either
side, appeared to think no more of the deadly balls flying about than
Italians do of the missiles at a carnival. The soldier fell in his
ranks ; the officer died at his post. The detachments were reduced
fearfully in numbers, yet still each line was alternately a blaze of
fire, and both seemed resolved not to give way. Finally, tne British,
completely exhausted, fell back. Our flanks were safe.
The strife had raged for two hours. The sun had long since set ;
even the twilight had departed; and the moon, at first shining
calmly over the scene, was now obscured by smoke. The struggle
was continued solely by the flashes of the guns. The left of the
enemy had been turned and cut off; his right had been hurled back
from its assault on our flank. But his centre still stood firm. It was
securely posted on the right, at the head of Lundy's Lane, and was
supported by nine pieces of artillery, admirably secured. Between
ELEAZER W. RIPLEY. 163
this portion of the enemy's army, and the front of our own, the con-
test waxed more desperate at every moment. It was at this point
of the battle, when the darkness completely hid the enemy from
sight, that Captain Brooke, taking a lantern wrapped in cloth, stole
onward until he had discovered the exact ground occupied by the
foe, and then, climbing a gnarled tree, deliberately fastened the light
in the line of fire. After this deed of chivalric courage, he returned
safely to his company. The struggle now grew more deadly. It
was supported, on our side, by the battalions of Brady and Leaven-
worth, sustained by Towson's artillery. The enemy replied with
equal obstinacy, long sheets of flame running across the height, like
lightning shooting in the edges of a cloud. Yet the Americans were
not to be driven from their position. Wide gaps were discerned in
their line, but not a man of that heroic biigade flinched. All through
that terrible night, for the battle raged until twelve o'clock, the men
stood to their posts, determined to die there if necessary, but never
to fly. Messenger after messenger had been sent off by Scott, to
hasten the approach of Brown; and, at last, the ammunition began
to give out. Then it was that an incident occurred so characteristic of the
indomitable spirit of the American soldier, that it alone throws more
light on the victory that followed, than would pages of scientific
description. As the cry for ammunition passed along the line, a
soldier fell shot through the heart. Clapping his hand to his side,
he cried, " cartridges in my box !" Scott, who was but a few paces
distant, ran to the man, but he was already dead. His last breath
had been exhausted in telling his fellow soldiers that they would
nnd cartridges on his corpse.
When Brown finally reached the scene of^ combat, to which he
had hurried as soon as he could concentrate his forces, he found the
brigade of Scott nearly cut to pieces. He resolved instantly to with-
draw it to the rear, where it might recruit its exhausted ranks, while
he brought up Ripley's fresh troops to maintain the contest. Being
now in force to make a serious attempt on the foe, Brown determined
to carry the battery at the head of the lane, that being the key of
the British position. Accordingly, Colonel Miller was directed to
storm this height in front ; while to Ripley was entrusted the task
of driving the infantry that supported it. When the American
commander, riding up to Miller, asked him if he could take the
battery, the heroic answer was, " I will try !" Piloted by Scott
through the darkness to the foot of the ascent, Miller rushed up me
height, and seized the guns almost instantaneously. As Scott re-
turned from performing his duty as guide, he saw that Ripley and
164 ELEAZER W. RIPLET.
the British infantry had come into action, at only twenty paces
distant ; and, for a moment, he paused to witness the terrible strife.
The enemy's line far outflanked the Americans, but nevertheless,
the latter stood stubbornly to their ground. Ripley never fired until
just after his adversary, choosing to wait for the flash of the British
muskets in order to take aim: thus, the vollies from either side
followed, like alternate claps of thunder. The night was intensely
dark. The blue smoke lay thickly packed between the hostile lines,
and, at every discharge, was lit up by a sulphurous glare, like the
ghastly flame burned by magicians at their incantations.
The enemy, having been reinforced in the meantime, now made
a desperate attempt to regain the height. But, after a fierce struggle
he was repulsed. Again he returned to the charge, and again was
driven back. Scott's brigade, which had now been re-formed, par-
ticipated in this rebuff. A third trial was made, but with like ill
success. The American army, prior to these struggles, had taken
up a new position, being drawn up with its back to the river, and
at right angles to the lane. During the successive combats that took
place for the possession of this ground, Scott had twice formed
portions of his brigade into column, advanced, charged the enemy's
line also advancing, penetrated it, and driven it in disorder back.
Wherever he called on his men to go, they followed, inspired by his
heroism. Twice he had horses shot under him. He was wounded
in the side ; but still kept the field. At last a musket ball disabled
his left shoulder, and he sunk fainting to the ground.
It was eleven o'clock when Scott was carried off the field, and
shortly after, Brown being also severely wounded and compelled to
retire, the chief command devolved on Ripley. But the action was
nearly over. Once more the British attempted to drive the Ameri-
cans from their position, but were gallantly repulsed ; and then, with
the approach of midnight, the struggle ceased. Rarely had a battle
been so fiercely contested. The Americans lost eight hundred
and sixty ; the British rather more : each side about a third of its
numerical force. Finding that the enemy no longer molested him,
Ripley determined to return to camp in order to recruit his men :
accordingly he fell back towards Chippewa, but without bringing
off the captured artillery, in consequence of its being dismantled.
When he reached head-quarters, Brown sent for him, and ordered
that the troops should be put into the best possible condition; that
adequate refreshment should be supplied them ; that the pickets and
camp-guards should be called in to increase the force as much as
ELEAZER W. RIPLET. 165
possible ; and that, with the dawn, Ripley, returning to the battle-
field, should meet and beat the enemy, if he again appeared.
Ripley, in consequence, advanced to Lundy's Lane in the morning,
out finding the enemy had been reinforced in the night, deemed it
most prudent to retreat. Brown was, at first, indignant at this con-
duct, asserting that his orders to Ripley left no discretion in that
officer. The latter, however, alleged that the instructions of the
General were "to be governed entirely by circumstances." It is
hardly probable, from the dogged resolution of Brown, that the
Commander-in-chief, if well, would have made a retrograde move-
ment ; but, on the contrary, it is nearly certain that he would have
joined battle, and fought until he conquered, or was cut to pieces.
In Brown's composition there was something of the iron will of
Luther, who said that he would go to Worms, if every tile on the
house-tops was a devil. Ripley had less stubborn tenacity. He
belonged to the prudential school of Harrison, not to the fiery one
of Scott arid Brown. He was a second-rate General on such a field
as Lundy's Lane ; but, in retarding an enemy during a retreat, had
no superior: as the army discovered, subsequently, when compelled
to fall back on Fort Erie.
This retreat began on the 26th of July. Breaking down the
bridges as he retired, and throwing other impediments in the British
advance, Ripley conducted the .troops to Fort Erie, which he began
immediately to strengthen. The retrograde movement had, mean-
time, received Brown's sanction, though he still preferred that to
another officer than Ripley should be confided the defence of the
army, and accordingly sent for General Gaines, who arriving at the
Fort on the 4th of August, superseded Ripley. The latter, however,
had skilfully employed the interval. Never did soldiers work more
assiduously than the Americans on their entrenchments. The six
days that elapsed between the arrival of our army and the appear-
ance of the enemy sufficed to render the place impervious to assault:
and to the energy of Ripley the salvation of this remnant of Brown's
heroic division is altogether to be attributed. The enemy, finding
that he could not carry the fort by storm, began a regular invest-
ment, which continued until the latter end of September. During
this period an unsuccessful attempt to assault the place took place,
on the morning of the 15th of August. A triumphant sortie, made
by Brown, who had recovered sufficiently to assume command,
virtually closed the siege on the 17th of September.
In the sortie under Brown, Ripley led one of the detachments, and
received a severe wound, from which his life was despaired of for
ELEAZER W. RIPLEY.
nearly three months. A year elapsed before he was fit for military
service, and by that time peace prevented his return to the field. He
was, however, rewarded with the brevet of a Major-General. Nor
was this all, for by a vote of Congress, on the 3d of November, 1814,
he was presented with a gold medal for his gallantry at Chippewa,
Lundy's Lane, and Fort Erie.
Ripley, in 1815, removed to Baton Rouge, near New Orleans,
where he had an estate. He was subsequently elected to Congress.
He died in 1834.
JAMES MILLER.
AMES MILLER, a Brigadier-Gene-
ral in the army of the United States, was one
of the most spirited, daring, and competent
: officers in the war of 1812. He is particular-
ly celebrated for his conduct in the battle of
Lundy's Lane, where, at the head of his vete-
ran regiment, he stormed and carried the
" height occupied by the enemy's artillery.
Miller was born at Petersburg, in the county of Hillsborough,
New Hampshire, on the 25th of April, 1776. As a lad, he was
rjrmcipallv celebrated for his love of idleness. One of his first teach-
r 167
168 JAMES MILLER.
ers had been a sergeant in the War of Independence, and took
pleasure in drilling the boys during the interval of their studies. It is
probable that the taste of Miller for military affairs was fostered by
this process. In character, he was bold, self-willed, and at one
period triumphantly headed what is called a "barring out," among
the boys, compelling the teacher to grant the required holiday,
together with an immunity to the young rebels. As he grew older,
however, a nobler ambition began to actuate him. At the age of
eighteen, stimulated by a desire to prosecute his education, he left
his paternal home to attend the Academy at Amherst, with the
slender outfit of a bundle of clothes, and the sum of one dollar and
twenty-five cents in his pocket. He remained at the Academy
until his credit, as well as funds, were exhausted, when he resorted
to teaching ; and thus alternating between pupil and instructor, he
finally completed his education. In this conduct, we recognize the
same energy, self-reliance, and perseverance which afterwards ren-
dered him distinguished as a military leader.
At the age of twenty-seven, after nine years thus spent, he was
admitted to practice law, and settled at Greenfield, in his native state.
When, however, in 1809, Congress resolved to increase the army,
Miller received the commission of a Major, having first held the
post of Captain of Artillery in the New Hampshire militia. He im-
mediately joined his regiment at Boston, and continued employed in
garrison duty until 1811, when he was elevated to the rank of
Lieutenant-Colonel, and ordered to march to Pittsburgh. From this
place he was detached to join General Harrison. In descending the
river with his troops, he exposed his person to such a degree, that he
caught a violent fever, which brought him to the brink of the grave.
The want of proper attention prolonged his illness. From the 4th
of May to the 18th of November, he slept but two nights under a
roof. In consequence, he was not present at the battle of Tippe-
canoe. The ensuing winter he spent at Vincennes, in the family
of Harrison, employed in recruiting his health.
In May, 1812, he received orders to join General Hull. He over-
took that officer at Urbana, and accompanied him to Detroit. The
supplies from Ohio having been cut off by the British and savages,
Miller was detached, with six hundred regular troops, to open the
communication. He started on this expedition on the evening of
the 8th of August, 1812, and on the following day came up with
the enemy, at Brownstown. The force of the latter consisted of three
hundred British, and four hundred and fifty Indians, who were
posted on strong ground, defended by artificial means. Miller prompt-
I
JACOB MILLER.
169
jy assailted the works, and, after a short conflict, defeated the enemy.
Tecumfeh,and a few other savages, who had leaped over the breast-
work, confident of victory, were gallantly repulsed at the point of
the bayoVet. The fugitives were pursued to their boats, about half
a mile diaant. The next day, Miller returned to Detroit. Had all
the operaions of the campaign been prosecuted with the same spirit,
how different would have been the result !
In compVny with Colonel Cass, Miller was the first American
officer to ca\ry our flag into Canada. In the affair of Canard, he
fought with Wrepidity, but being unsupported by the General, lost
the fruits of tte victory. But it was in the succeeding year, on tho
Niagara frontW, that he covered himself with laurels. He was at
Chippewa, Lundy's Lane, and Fort Erie, on all which occasions he
displayed the Vtmost gallantry. At the battle of Lundy's Lane,
when it becam^ necessary to carry a height which commanded the
field, and on which the British artilV^r^ was posted, General Brown
rode up to Colonel Miller, and said \ " Sir, can you take that bat-
tery ?" " I will try !" was the laconicVeply. The night was so dark
that Siott, who was familiarly acquainted with the ground, had to
xv 22
\
170
JACOB MILLER.
pilot the regiment to the required position. In a few ininu:es ? Mil-
ler reached the foot of the ascent With a wild huzza, the troops
rushed up the hill, charging to the cannon's mouth. Th3 battery
was carried in an instant. The victory was won.
Miller was promoted to the rank of a Brigadier-General for his
conduct at Chippewa. In the sortie at Fort Erie, he commanded
one of the detachments, and carried, in thirty minutes, the two prin-
cipal batteries of the British. For his brilliant conduit on these
occasions, he was presented, by a vote of Congress, with a gold
medal, the motto being the two memorable words he used at Lun-
dv's Lane. When the war ceased, he left the aray, and retired
to his estate at Peterborough, in his native state, where he continued
to reside for several years. Here he devoted his time to social in-
tercourse, and to the pursuit of agriculture. In the domestic circle
his cheeifalness and kindness were pre-eminent and the more
striking, though not the more singular, in consequence of his im-
petuosity in the field. It is said few persons cculd be long in his
society without being both happier and wiser.
General Miller was subsequently made Collector of the Port of Salem,
Massachusetts, where he has since continued to reside. An attack
of paralysis has deprived him nearly altogether of the power of
speech, but his other faculties continue unimpaired.
NATHAN TOWSON.
T
HIS distinguished officer, now Pay-
master-General of the army with the
rank of Brigadier, was considered, in
the war of 1812, the ablest artillery
officer in the country. It is doubtful
indeed, whether he had his superior in
the world. He distinguished himself
on various occasions, the three most
prominent of which were Black Rock,
Chippewa, and Lundy's Lane.
Towson was born at a small vil-
lage called Towsonton, about seven
miles from Baltimore, on the 22d of
January, 1784. He received the rudiments of his education at a
171
172 NATHAN TOWSON.
country school, and is said to have shown considerable fondness for
learning. At the age of sixteen he left the paternal mansion, and
removed to Kentucky, for the purpose of cultivating a farm there
belonging to his father ; but finding the property in dispute, he soon
left that state and removed to Natches, in the then Mississippi terri-
tory, where he resided for three years. During the time he dwelt
at this place, Louisiana was purchased by the United States. Sus-
picions of some difficulty in annexing it being entertained, Governor
Clairborne, of Mississippi, raised a band of volunteers and marched
to New Orleans. Of this force Towson was one, making his first
essay in arms.
In 1805 Towson returned to Maryland, and from this period until
the war of 1812, was chiefly occupied in agricultural pursuits. He
retained, however, a fondness for military ajFairs, and served as
Adjutant in the seventh Maryland militia. A portion of his leisure
hours he devoted to the cultivation of poetry. From these com-
paratively quiet pursuits he was called away on the 15th of March,
1812, and received the appointment of Captain of artillery in the
army of the United States, a post which his reputation for military
talents, rather than any predominating influence, had obtained for
him. He soon recruited his company, and, in August, joined his
superior officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Scott, at Philadelphia. Imme-
diately after, Scott was ordered to General Dearborn's head-quarters,
on the northern frontier, whither he repaired with Towson's and
Barker's companies.
Towson now signalized himself by performing his first exploit.
Being at Black Rock, protecting the fitting out of the vessels for the lake
service, Lieutenant Elliott projected the capture of two of the enemy's
ships lying under the guns of Fort Erie, and the lot fell on Towson
to command one of the two boats destined for the expedition. He
accordingly boarded and carried the Caledonia in the most gallant
manner. Indeed the whole brunt of the fight fell on him, for having
been the first to attack, the approach of Elliott was unperceived, and
the latter took his vessel almost by surprise. The Caledonia sub-
sequently grounded, but was saved by the intrepidity of Towson, and
afterwards became one of Perry's immortal fleet. For his conduct
on this occasion he received the brevet of Major.
At the battle of Queenstown, Towson remained with his artillery
on the American shore ; for there were no boats in which he could
cross. He kept up, however, a spirited cannonade on the enemy's
position. In the spring of 1813, he was attached to General Winder's
brigade, and participated with it in the attack on Fort George. At
NATHAN TOWSON. 173
the encounter at Stoney Creek he was the senior officer of artillery.
Here he lost his guns, and was himself made prisoner ; but he suc-
ceeded in effecting his escape, and even regained two of his pieces.
While the army subsequently lay at Fort George, there were almost
daily skirmishes between the Americans and British; and in one
of these affairs Towson received a wound in his hand. He was left
at Fort George, when Boyd moved down the St. Lawrence. After-
wards his company was marched to Sackett's Harbor, where it
continued until April, 1814.
In the battle of Chippewa Towson played a distinguished part :
indeed, after Brown and Scott, he was the hero of the day. His
company was the only artillery one on our side, engaged in the
action. The enemy had an equal number of guns, but while Towson's
were only six pounders, those of the British were twenty-four poun-
ders. At the beginning of the action the pieces of the foe were well
served, and their fire was very destructive ; but so close and well
aimed were the discharges of Towson, that, before the battle was
half over, the British guns were silent, their ammunition wagon
blown up, and most of the artillery horses killed. It was with great
difficulty that the guns were saved in the retreat, and then only by
the interposition of the dragoons, who harnessed their animals to the
pieces and galloped off with them at the last extremity. Towson,
during this battle, was laboring under an inflammation of the eyes,
and, for a time, could not distinguish the exact position of the enemy
through the smoke. When Scott was about to make the brilliant
movement, by which he crushed the enemy's battalions between his
own, he perceived that Towson was firing in the wrong direction,
and hastening to his side, he reined in his steed and pointed out
where the British were. Towson instantly changed the direction of
his pieces, and, loading with cannister, opened an oblique fire, which
enfiladed the enemy from right to left. The effect was murderous.
The masses of the foe were prostrated, as when a hail-storm beats
down the corn. This fearful fire, seconded, as it was, by Scott's
movement, won the day. The British fell back, and victory was
ours. For his conduct on this glorious field, Towson received the
brevet of a Lieutenant-Colonel.
At Lundy's Lane, Towson again earned laurels. The charge of
Miller, which carried the key to the enemy's position, was made at
the suggestion of Towson. During the battle, his immediate com
mand suffered severely. Both his Lieutenants were wounded, and
of thirty-six men who served at his guns, twenty-seven were killed
or injured. At last, on the arrival of the reinforcements, he was
xv*
174 NATHAN TOWSON.
partially relieved from his perilous position. But the victory was
owing to the invincible courage with which Towson, Jessup, and
others of that stamp, disputed the ground for the first two hours.
The official report of this battle says: "Towson's company attached
to the first brigade, was the first and last engaged ; and, during the
whole conflict, maintained that high character which they had pre-
viously shown, by their skill and valor."
Towson was at Fort Erie on the night of the memorable assault,
August the 15th, 1814. He commanded at the left flank, which
proved to be the post of danger and honor. The night had been
rainy, and was still pitch dark, but the sentinels kept good watch,
and detecting the steps of the approaching column, gave notice to
Towson, who at once opened a rolling fire on the assailants. For
some minutes, it is said, his bastion was a sheet of flame. So inces-
sant, indeed, were the discharges that the soldiers called his battery,
Towson's light house ; a name which stuck to it to the close of the war.
General Ripley, in speaking of this part of the action, says: "I cannot
refrain from adverting to the manner in which Captain Towson's
artillery was served ; I have never seen it equalled. This officer has
so often distinguished himself, that to say simply he is in action, is a
volume of eulogium : the army, only to be informed he is there, by
a spontaneous assent are at once satisfied that he has performed well
his part."
At the close of the war Towson was assigned the command of the
troops at Boston. He was subsequently at Newport, R. I. In 1819,
he left the line of the army, and was appointed Paymaster-General,
which office he has since continued to fill. In 1834, under the act
recommended by President Jackson, Towson became entitled to an
additional brevet ; and accordingly took rank as a Brigadier from
the 15th of August, 1824, the tenth anniversary of the battle of
Fort Erie.
Towson, from his elevation to the Paymaster-Generalship has
resided principally at Washington. He continued to fulfil the duties
of his responsible station, until January, 1848, when he was ordered
to Mexico, to preside at the court of enquiry held on the Commander-
in-chief.
We may close this sketch with the opinion passed on him by
Wilkinson, certainly not a lenient judge: "At Chippewa, as at
Minden, the fate of the day was settled by the artillery ; and the
American Towson may deservedly be ranked with the British
Phillips, Drummond and Foy."
THOMAS S. JESSUP.
HE name of Jessup has long been
associated, in the popular mind,
with all that is brilliant and daring.
He was one of that glorious band of
young men who distinguished them-
selves in the campaign of 1814, and
who may be considered the founders
of that high military spirit which
now distinguishes the republic. It
was Scott, Towson, Jessup, Worth,
and others of like heroic mould, who first taught the now admitted
fact, that an American soldier must never contemplate the proba
bility of defeat.
Jessup was born in Virginia, about the year 1788. While he
was still very young, his family emigrated to Ohio. The earlier
years of this distinguished officer were accordingly passed on the
frontier, where the physical qualities generally expand more than
the intellectual ones. Jessup, however, early showed considerable
ability. He was especially distinguished by a taste for military pur-
suits. In May, 1808, he entered the army as a Second-Lieutenant
of infantry, Scott entering on the same day as a Captain of artillery.
When the war of 1812 began, his rise was rapid and brilliant.
At the battle of Chippewa, Jessup, now a Major, commanded the
battalion on the left flank of Scott's brigade. He had been ordered
175
176 THOMAS S. JESSUP.
to prevent the enemy outflanking him, and in his effort to effect his
purpose, found himself pressed both in front and on the flank, while
his men were falling fast around him. The emergency was critical.
An ordinary officer would have lost the day. But Jessup, ordering
his battalion, with a firm voice, to " support arms, and advance,"
the men, animated by his lofty courage, obeyed, and swept the field.
The manner in which, amid a desperate fire, his battalion executed
this movement, has always received warm praise, and the credit of
the success, in this part of the field, is attributed entirely to his cool-
ness, promptitude and courage. For his conduct at Chippewa, ho
received the brevet of Lieutenant-Colonel.
In the battle of Lundy's Lane, also, he reaped laurels. In this
action, he commanded the twenty-fifth regiment. Perceiving that
the British commander had thoughtlessly left a road behind him
unguarded, Jessup rallied his brave troops around him, and precipi-
tated himself into the enemy's rear. For a few moments the British
stood their ground, but the slaughter among them was dreadful ; and
at the fourth fire of our infantry, they fled down the road. General
Riall, with many officers of rank, fell into the hands of Jessup by
this daring movement. The British Commander-in-chief, Lieuten-
ant-General Drummond, would also have been captured, but Jessup
hearing that the first brigade was cut to pieces, and finding himself with
but two hundred men, surrounded by the enemy, thought it advisa-
ble to retreat, and save his command. At a later period of the
combat, after the height in the lane had been carried by Miller,
Jessup, with the twenty-fifth, assisted that officer to repel three
several assaults on the position. For his demeanor in this battle,
Jessup was brevetted a Colonel.
After the peace, Jessup was retained in the army. In 1818, he
was appointed Quartermaster-General, with the rank of a Brigadier.
In 1828, he received the brevet of a Brigadier in due course. When
Scott was recalled from Florida, Jessup was appointed to the vacant,
command. He continued in charge of the Seminole war for many
years, and it was during the period of his command that Osceola was
captured. After the battle of Okee-Chobee, Jessup was recalled,
and the conduct of the war confided to Taylor.
Jessup accompanied Scott to Mexico, where, however, he did not
remain long. The duties of his office, though important, did not
call him into active service, and, consequently, he had no means of
signalizing himself.
EDMUND P. GAINES.
D M U N D Pendleton Galnei,
a brevet Major-General in the
army of the United States, was
the hero of Fort Erie. He
was born in Culpepper county,
Virginia, on the 20th of March, 1777.
Shortly after he had attained his thir-
teenth year, his father removed to Ten-
nessee, and settled in Sullivan county,
in the immediate vicinity of which the
Cherokee Indians committed frequent
depredations. The necessity of self-defence against these foes, turned
the thoughts of young Gaines to military affairs. He studied every
23 177
178 EDMUND P. GAINES.
book relating to the art that he could obtain. He became celebrated
as one of the best shots on the border. At the early age of eighteen, ho
was elected Lieutenant of a rifle company, raised against the
Cherokees.
In January, 1799, he received his first commission, which was that
of an Ensign in the army of the United States. In the following
year, he was advanced to the rank of Second-Lieutenant, in the fourth
infantry. In 1801, young Gaines was selected by his Colonel to
make a topographical survey, from Nashville to Natchez, in order
to locate a military road, under the direction of the United States.
In this duty, and in the survey of certain Indian boundaries near
the Choctaw nation, he was engaged until 1804. These trusts, thus
confided to him, show the high opinion already formed of his scien-
tific acquirements. He was now appointed military collector of
customs for the district of Mobile, and was stationed at Fort Stod-
dart, thirty-six miles north of the town of Mobile. In 1806 he was
promoted to a captaincy. He was the officer who, at this period,
arrested Burr, under the President's proclamation. Subsequently,
he entertained the idea of abandoning the pursuit of arms and
embracing that of the law ; and even went so far as to ask leave of
absence, arid begin the practice of the profession in Washington and
Baldwin counties, Mississippi. But the war with England soon
after breaking out, he resumed his sword, and has not since aban-
doned it.
Gaines was attached to the army of Harrison during the campaign
of 1813, but illness prevented his sharing in the victory of the
Thames. He had now been raised to the rank of Colonel, and in
the action at Chrystler's Fields, on the llth of November of that
year, commanded the twenty-fifth regiment. His duty, on this day,
was to cover the embarkation of our troops, after the enemy had
been checked ; and this service he performei in the most admirable
manner. Cool in danger, yet sufficiently impetuous; fertile in
resources, though never visionary ; Gaines soon established a very
high reputation, and was rewarded with the rank of Brigadier-
General. When, after the battle of Lundy's Lane, the British con-
centrated all their available forces on the Niagara, and compelled
the Americans, so lately victorious, to retreat to Fort Erie, it was
to Gaines that Brown turned his eyes in the illness of himself and
Scott, to defend that place. Accordingly, Gaines being summoned
to the fort, superseded Ripley in the command, though without
making any change in his predecessor's arrangements. Shortly after
his arrival, in the night between the 14th and 15th of August, 1814,
EDMUND P. GAINES. 179
the memorable assault on Fort Erie was made. The victory that
crowned our arms on that occasion, has made the name of Gaines
immortal. Had not the enemy been repulsed, the remnant of Brown's
heroic brigade would have been annihilated, the moral effect of the
late victories lost, and the war protracted probably for years.
Fort Erie had been reached by the retiring army on the 27th of
July, and, from that day, to the third of August, when the enemy
arrived before the place, the soldiers labored incessantly to strengthen
the works. The forces of the British were about four thousand two
hundred, while those of the Americans, at no time during the siege,
amounted to two thousand five hundred. Had the enemy arrived
two days before, with such overpowering numbers, the Americans
must have become his prey ; but*the latter had worked with an
assiduity almost unparalleled in history, and the British, perceiving
nothing was to be done by a coup de main, sat down to invest the
place. The main camp of the foe was placed about two miles from
the fort. In front of this camp a line of circumvallation extended
partially around the works ; it consisted of two lines of intrench-
ments, supported by block-houses. In front of these trenches, batte-
ries were erected at favorable points. One battery, in particular,
enfiladed the works. The guns of the enemy were never silent,
from the moment they were mounted, but continued to pour a
destructive and unceasing fire on the fort.
It was on the 4th of August, the day after the investment, that
Gaines took the command. The following day the cannonade and
bombardment begun. These were vigorously maintained, varied
by occasional sharp conflicts between the infantry and rifle corps of
the two armies, up to the morning of the grand assault. The loss in
these skirmishes amounted, in the aggregate, to more than the loss
on the 15th; but the lives were not sacrificed in vain, since, in
these preliminary contests, the garrison gained confidence for the
final and decisive struggle. On one occasion, a shell from the British
penetrated a magazine, which was, fortunately, nearly empty, and
hence, though it blew up with a terrible explosion, none of the
works were injured, nor was a single member of the garrison killed.
Both armies, however, were appalled for a moment. The firing on
each side ceased. All eyes, on the part of the enemy, were turned
towards the magazine, where a dark column of smoke, brooding
ominously over the ruins, magnified the disaster, and caused a shout
of exultation after the first moments of silence. The hurrah had
scarcely ceased, before the Americans returned it, and instantl/
180 EDMUND P. GAINES.
opened their batteries afresh. The British replied, and soon this
interlude was forgotten in the renewed roar of battle.
Gaines, however, after this, expected an assault, for ne knew
the explosion would lead the enemy to suppose he was short of
ammunition. Accordingly, he held himself ready for an attack at
any moment. At last, about two o'clock in the morning of the
15th, the steady tramp of an enemy was heard upon the left, long
before the darkness allowed his forces to be seen. Gaines was on
horseback at the time, and promptly galloped to the point of attack.
Just as he reached the angle of the fort, the musketry and artillery
opened on the foe, and by the lurid light thus flung across the night,
he beheld a column, fifteen hundred strong, close upon the works.
Onward it came, reckless of the tremendous fire, until within ten
feet of the American infantry. Fortunately an abattis, formed of loose
brush, intervened, and checked the British regulars, but rapidly
turning aside, they plunged into the lake, waist deep, in order to
turn the abattis, and with mutual shouts of encouragement, struggled
thus towards the works. Gaines, fearing this point would be carried,
ordered up a detachment of riflemen and infantry, but Major Wood,
who commanded here, assured him that the position could be held
without assistance. His words were soon made good. Before the
deadly fire of Towsou's artillery and Wood's musketry, the English
recoiled, and though they rallied and advanced again immediately,
they were once more repulsed. After this, no further assault on the
left was attempted.
Simultaneously, however, a much heavier body of the enemy was
precipitated against the right of the fort, and here, in consequence of
the immensely preponderating numbers, the contest was more severe.
The British advanced in two columns. The one on the extreme
right, was speedily repulsed. But that in the centre, led by Colonel
Drummond, one of the bravest, yet most brutal men of the royal
army, was not to be checked, either by the sight of the walls
crowded with soldiers, the vollies of musketry pouring from them,
or the torrents of grape that swept by. His soldiers charged over
the open ground, down into the ditch, and up its sides, where plant-
ing their ladders against the parapet, they ascended in despite of
the Americans. But now the defenders, rallying themselves with
desperate resolution, for if they failed here, the day was lost, grap-
pled with the foe, and after a fierce struggle, hurled him back with
dreadful carnage. The assault was repeated with indomitable
spirit, but again repulsed. A third time the enemy planted nil
EDMUND P. GAINES. 181
ladders, and a third time was nearly precipitated Into the ditch.
But now covered by the darkness, which was rendered more dense
in consequence of the thick masses of smoke that lay packed at the
foot of the works, the column turned a little to the right, and with
a sudden rush, re-ascended the ladders, and falling, with pike and
bayonet on the astounded artillerists, carried the bastion, after a
brief, but deadly resistance. Colonel Drummond was at the head
of the storming party, cheering on his men. Captain Williams, in
command at this point, fell, mortally wounded. Lieutenant McDo-
nough continued to fight until severely hurt, and then demanded
quarter. It was refused by Colonel Drummond, who rushed at
him, shouting : " Give the d d Yankees no quarter !" Seizing a
gun-rammer, McDonough desperately defended himself, scattering
the enemy right and left, until Drummond, with a pistol, shot him
dead. The British now streamed over the bastion, and attempted
'to rush on the fort, Colonel Drummond, waving his sword in the
van, and repeating his brutal shout, " No quarter to the d d
Yankees !" The words, however, this time had scarcely left his
mouth, before he leaped into the air, and tumbled headlong, shot
through the heart by a private of one of the regiments of regulars.
Meantime the enemy having been repulsed on the left, Gaines
had ordered up reinforcements from that quarter. In the interval,
however, the British were held in check, and kept from advancing
beyond the bastion, by the rapid and well-aimed discharges of Captain
Fanning's field-pieces, which mowed down the foe wherever he left
covert. Once or twice the Americans attempted to regain the bastion;
but the effort was fruitless : they rolled back from its impervious
sides like a baffled tide receding from the rocks. The night still con-
tinued intensely dark. But suddenly the whole firmament was lit up
as at noon-day. The earth quaked. All thought the fort blowing up.
When the smoke cleared off, the English in the bastion, from which
the explosion appeared, were seen rushing wildly towards the ditch.
At the same instant the cause of the disaster was made apparent.
A quantity of cartridges had been deposited in the end of a stone
building adjoining the bastion, and these igniting, had blown up.
The vivid blaze of light was over in an instant, and comparative
gloom fell around. But, through the darkness, the cries of the
British, who, in their panic, believed the Americans were going to
destroy themselves and the fort, rose wild and high over the rece-
ding echoes of the explosion.
Captain Biddle hastened to improve this moment of consternation,
by enfilading the exterior plain and salient glacis with his field-piece
XVI
182 EDMUND P. GAINES.
Captain Fanning also followed the enemy with rapid and deadly
discharges from his artillery. The effect of these united fires, con-
joined with their late affright, was such that the British could not
recover themselves, but breaking in every direction, fled swiftly
from the ramparts. When the ensuing morning dawned upon the
sanguinary scene, two hundred and twenty-one of the enemy were
found lifeless on the field, besides one hundred and seventy-four
who had been too severely wounded to be carried off. In addition
to this, there were one hundred and sixty-eight prisoners. The
American loss was seventeen killed, fifty-six wounded, and eleven
missing. Thus ended the assault on Fort Erie. When it is recol-
lected that on the preservation of that work hung the whole morale,
of the army, and that a distinguished officer of brigade under General
Brown had declared it impossible to resist successfully, we can form
some idea, though but a faint one, of the immense importance of
the triumph.
On the 28th of August, Gaines received a wound from the bursting
of a shell, which incapacitated him for a while from service ; ani
accordingly the command devolved again on Ripley. For his gal-
lantry in the assault Gaines was soon after brevetted a Major-General.
Congress voted him also a gold medal. The states of Virginia,
Tennessee and Alabama each presented him with a sword. On the
reduction of the army, after the peace, he was retained in his old
rank.
He served for some time in the south, on the Florida frontier.
Subsequently he was detached to the western department, and was
in command of it when Black Hawk's war broke out. His move-
ments were spirited and energetic, but he was soon superseded. He
was next appointed to his old station in the south, and was there
when Dade's massacre occurred. He immediately proceeded to
chastise the Seminoles. In this campaign he was twice attacked by
the enemy, whom, on both occasions, he repulsed. On. the llth of
March, 1836, he was superseded by Scott.
For several succeeding years he was kept in comparative inactivity.
In 1846, however, he was at New Orleans when intelligence arrived
of Taylor's peril on the Rio Grande, before the battle of Palo Alto.
Gaines immediately issued a requisition for a large force of volun-
teers. For this act, deemed unnecessary at the time, he was recalled
and censured by a court-martial.
Gaines died at New Orleans, on the 6th of June, 1849.
PETER B. PORTER.
JU
ETER B. PORTER, a Major-
General in the war of 1812, con-
tributed largely to the success of
the campaign on the Niagara.
Rallying the volunteers in the summer of
,1813, he continued at the head of that corps
of the army throughout the ensuing year ;
land at Chippewa, Lundy's Lane and Fort
lErie fought with the personal intrepidity of
a hero. For his services at this eventful
period of our history, Congress, by a resolution of November the 3d,
1814, presented him with a gold medal.
Porter was born at Salisbury, Connecticut, on the 14th of August,
1773. After completing his preliminary studies, he entered Yale
College, where he subsequently graduated with high honor. Having
afterwards studied the law, he settled to practise in his native place.
183
184 PETER B. PORTER.
Here he rose rapidly to influence. He was elected to Congress, and
in that body chosen chairman of the Committee of Foreign Relations.
In 1811, he was appointed a commissioner in relation to inland
navigation ; and he had thus the honor of being one of the first
to lay the corner stone in the prosperity of New York. The war
of 1812, however, called him to sterner duties. Having removed
to Black Rock, he was there when the descent was made on that
place in 1813, and, placing himself at the head of the hastily col-
lected volunteers, succeeded in repelling the attack. From that hour
he was an active participater in the war on the northern frontier.
Porter having been made a Brigajdier-General, was present with
his command at the battle of Chippewa. His task was to march
through the woods, and endeavor to turn the right of the enemy ;
but though foiled in executing this duty, he gallantly met and re-
pulsed the British. General Brown, in his official despatch, says :
" The conduct of General Porter has been conspicuously gallant :
every assistance in his power to afford, with the description of force
under his command, has been rendered." In the battle of Lundy's
Lane, also, Porter signalized himself; and by his personal heroism,
excited that of his corps. General Brown officially speaks of him
as follows : " It is with great pleasure I saw the good order and
intrepidity of General Porter's volunteers from the moment of their
arrival ; but, during the last charge of the enemy, those qualities
were conspicuous. Stimulated by their gallant leader, they precipi-
tated themselves upon the enemy's line, and made all the prisoners
which were taken at this point of the action."
In the series of skirmishes at Fort Erie, ending with the repulse
of the British assault on the 15th of August, 1814, Porter played a
very prominent part. During the terrible morning of the 15th, he
commanded the centre, and, with his riflemen and volunteers, con-
tributed materially to the victory on that occasion. For his conduct
during this campaign, he was promoted to the rank of Major-General.
At the close of the war, Porter returned to political life, and in
1815, was elected to Congress. During the ensuing year, the office
of Secretary of State was tendered to him, but he declined it. He
was one of the commissioners appointed, in 1817, to run the boun-
dary line between the United States and Canada. He was Secretary
of War for awhile under the Presidency of John Quincy Adams.
In 1829 he retired to private life.
Porter died at Niagara, on the 20th of March, 1844.
ALEXANDER MACOMB.
LJ
N the struggle for Independence
the west was a wilderness, and
consequently could furnish no
heroes for the war. But since
that period, it has supplied, per-
haps, more soldiers and Generals than any
other section. Alexander Macomb was the
first military commander born in the west
who rose to distinction. His birth occurred
at Detroit, in the present state of Michigan,
on the 3d of April, 1782. While still a child, however, the family
removed to New York, and young Macomb was placed at a eel-
brated school in Newark, N. J., to be educated. Here he remained
several years.
185 24 vix
186 ALEXANDER MACOMB.
In 1798, the difficulties with France became so serious as to
threaten hostilities, and preparations were made actively throughout
the Union for a war with that republic. Among others, young
Macomb tendered his sword to his country, and was enrolled in a
company called the " New York Rangers," whose services had been
offered and accepted by the President. The ambition of the young
volunteer soon aspired to a commission in the regular army, and, in
1799, he succeeded in obtaining the appointment of a Cornet. The
difficulties between the United States and France being amicably
adjusted, most of those who had enlisted for the war, retired to more
peaceful avocations. Macomb, however, had a strong military
bent, and was eager to continue in the service. Accordingly, on the
subsequent formation of a corps of engineers, he was appointed to
a lieutenancy in it, and stationed, for a time, at West Point. In
1805, he rose to the rank of Captain/and in 1808, to that of Major.
During all this time he remained in the engineers. When, however,
the war of 1812 broke out, he asked to be transferred to the artil-
lery, because there would be little opportunity of distinguishing him
self in his old corps. He had, during his comparatively long
service earned a reputation for substantial merit, and, in consequence
his request was granted. He was appointed a Colonel, and given
the command of the third regiment. This regiment had yet to be
raised, but the ranks were not long in filling up ; for in November,
1812, Macomb was able to join the army on the northern frontier,
with his new command. Here he distinguished himself at Niagara
and Fort George. In January, 1814, he was raised to the rank of
Brigadier. The charge of the country bordering on Lake Champlain,
was now entrusted to him, and it was here that he won the battle of
Plattsburgh, one of the most gallant victories of the war.
The summer of 1814 was a gloomy one for the United States.
The war in Europe had just been brought to a close by the abdica-
tion of Napoleon, and the British veterans, thus disengaged, were
sent, at once, across the Atlantic. During the month of July, tran-
sports continually arrived in the St. Lawrence, crowded with the
troops of Wellington. By the first of August, fifteen thousand men
had been added to the British disposable force in the Canadas. Nor
were these reinforcements composed of ordinary soldiers. On the
contrary, they were culled from the flower of the English army
from the conquerors of Badajoz, San Sebastian, and Bayonne. The
battles of Chippewa and Lundy's Lane assisted, in a measure, to
remove the public despondency, by proving that, against equal
numbers, our regular troops, when ably commanded, had little to
ALEXANDER MACOMB. 187
fear. But the peril consisted in the overwhelming forces of the
enemy. Not a week passed in the month of August, which did not
bring more transports from Europe, with fresh additions of veteran
soldiers to increase the already overflowing army in the Canadas.
After numerous additions had been made to the force on the Niagara,
there remained fourteen thousand men on the lower St. Lawrence;
and these, organized under Sir George Prescott, were destined, it
was secretly whispered, to move down Lake Champlain, seize the
line of the Hudson, and cutting off New England from the rest of
the confederation, finish by capturing the city of New York.
When Ihis bold design became first known to the Americans, they
had no army on Champlain competent for resistance, for General
Izard had just marched towards Niagara with all his disposable
strength, in order to relieve Fort Erie. Macomb, who now found
himself the senior officer, had no organized battalions, if we except
four companies of the sixth regiment. The remainder of his force,
which amounted only to about fifteen hundred effective men, was
composed of convalescents and recruits of the new regiments. His
works were weak ; the stores were in confusion ; the ordnance out of
order ; and, in short, everything in the worst possible condition to
face an active, enterprising and veteran foe. Every day intelligence
was brought in that the enemy had approached nearer. His procla-
mations soon revealed that his design was to attack Plattsburgh.
At this the inhabitants fled in alarm. Macomb was quickly left
with no assistance beyond his regulars, except what was de-
rived from a few men and boys, who, ashamed to desert their
homes like others, formed themselves into a company, received
rifles, and went zealously to work.
But the emergency found the American General with a mind
equal to its demands. A different spirit pervaded him from that
which had led to disgrace under Hull and Wilkinson. In 1813,
perhaps, the Americans would have abandoned Plattsburgh without
a blow ; but a new race of men had risen to be leaders, and the
people, who always catch more or less of the feelings of their Gene-
rals, were now as confident as they would then have been despond-
ing. Macomb did all he could to increase that confidence. He
reminded his men of what their fellow-soldiers had achieved at
Chippewa and Lundy's Lane ; and assured them, that if possessed
of a like resolution, they could as nobly sustain the honor of their
flag. He divided his little force into detachments, and assigned them
stations near the several forts, declaring, in his general orders, that
each detachment was the garrison of its own work, and must rely
188 ALEXANDER MACOMB.
entirely on itself. He lost no time in rallying the country people to
his assistance. He urged General Mooers, of the militia, to make
a levy en masse. When the troops began to come in, he sent them
forward to break up the roads and destroy the bridges. In a word,
the same system which had been tried with such success to defeat Bur-
goyne, was now vigorously applied to check the advance of
Prevost. Yet, for awhile, every effort to arrest the progress of the
British proved abortive. The detachments sent out to meet the van
of the enemy, fell back in confusion. With the proud step of assured
conquerors, the English advanced against Plattsburgh, and on the
6th of September, made their appearance before that place, driving
in impetuously, the parties of militia that attempted to skirmish on
their front. Even a body of riflemen that met the enemy debouch-
ing from a wood, failed to arrest him. A battery of field pieces,
that next opened on him, had no better success. Undaunted, those
scarred and sun-burnt veterans, the heroes of a hundred conflicts on
the hills of Spain, pressed shouting on, never deploying in their
whole march, but advancing vauntingly in columns.
The village of Plattsburgh is situated on the north-west side of a
stream called the Saranac, which, at no great distance, empties into
Lake Champlain. The American works were placed on the other side
of the river, opposite the town. Consequently, when the enemy had
driven in the skirmishingparties of our little army, no resource remained
but to abandon the village and retreat to the shelter of the works. In
order to cover this movement, the field-pieces were hurried across
the bridge, and hastily thrown into battery, when a furious and
incessant fire was opened on the advancing masses of the British.
The troops, as they retired, moreover, kept up a running discharge of
volleys on the foe. By this means every corps succeeded in effecting
its escape. The enemy maintained the pursuit, however, with the
utmost gallantry, and, on reaching the bridge, threw parties of sharp-
shooters into the neighboring houses, from the windows and balco-
nies of which a continual fire was kept up on the Americans.
Several desperate but unavailing attempts were made by the enemy
to drive the guards from the bridge. The Americans, annoyed by the
sharp-shooters, now opened with hot shot on the houses where these
men had stationed themselves. Soon the fiery missives took effect.
Speedily several dwellings were in a "blaze. Driven from their
foothold here, the British fell back. Thus the afternoon wore
away. As the dusk began to fall, the Americans retiring
wholly across the bridge, tore up its planks, and formed breast
works with them. Night settled down, but the battle raged
ALEXANDER MACOMB. 189
The roar of the artillery, the rattle of musketry, the whistling of the
balls, and the occasional cheers of the combatants, rose up in awful
discord, while the lurid appearance of the hot shot, and the conflag-
ration that lit up the sky when some fresh house took fire, added to
the horrors of the scene. At last, the British drew off, and aban-
doned all attempts to force a passage. Not only at the main bridge,
but at one higher up, defended by militia, the foe had been repulsed,
with heavy loss.
When morning dawned, it was discovered that the enemy were
throwing up intrenchments, and the spies soon brought in intelli-
gence of the approach of his battering train. There was no fear,
consequently, of an assault that day. Macomb employed the respite
in sending off new couriers to raise the neighboring country-people.
To his troops he spoke in grateful terms for the bravery they had
shown, with the exception of some of the militia, on the preceding
day, and on these latter, he said he was assured he should,
on the next occasion, have nothing but praises to bestow. The
volunteers from New York and Vermont, as well as the regular
drafts of militia, came pouring into the camp. Macomb immedi-
ately disposed them along the shores of the Saranac. Continual
skirmishes occurred for the next four days, and more than once the
British resumed their attempts to cross the bridges. As he had
expected, Macomb now found the militia behaving with the utmost
spirit. Every day increased their confidence in themselves, while
it diminished their dread of the enemy. The American General, as
soon as his reinforcements would permit, despatched a strong body
in the rear of the British army, with orders to harass it day and
night. Meantime, the regulars were kept assiduously at work on
the intrenchments. The final trial of strength Macomb knew
could not be very distant, for the enemy's fleet was hourly advanc-
ing, and every moment a naval engagement might be expected,
which would, necessarily, lead to an attack on land.
The expected battle occurred on the llth. Early on the morning
of that day, the British squadron appeared in sight, and about nine
o'clock, anchored within three hundred yards of the American
fleet under McDonough, and commenced a brisk cannonade. Sim-
ultaneously, the batteries of the enemy opened against Macomb's
defences. The anxious eyes of his army were now called away
from the naval contest, to watch the demonstrations of their more
immediate enemy on land. Three several times the British
attempted to carry the American works. On the first occasion the
assault was made at the village bridge, where it was promptly
190 ALEXANDER MACOMB.
repulsed by the regulars. Amid a tempest of balls and bombs, me
soldiers of the enemy were seen rushing to the attack, bearing innu-
merable scaling ladders, and cheering as they came on. But,
unappalled by the spectacle, the regulars stood firm, and delivered
such well-aimed volleys, that the storming party fell back. A
second attempt, made at the upper bridge, was also repulsed.
The enemy now turned his attention towards a ford, about three
miles from the works, hoping to find it unguarded, but here the militia
lined the wooded shore of the stream, and under cover of the trees,
poured in a destructive fire. Nevertheless, one company of the
English army, stung with shame at being thus held in check by
this irregular force, after the most desperate efforts, succeeded in
crossing the stream. But the rest of their companions failing to
follow, they were killed or taken prisoners, to a man.
Throughout the whole day, the British maintained their cannon-
ade on the American works. From nine o'clock until sunset, a
continual roar of artillery, intermingled with the sharper reports of
musketry, stunned the ears, and shook the solid ramparts. Round
shot bounded around the works, rockets hissed through the sky,
and bombs tore up the ground where the Americans stood ; while,
for a part of the day, the sounds of the naval conflict boomed louder
and louder across the water. At one point of the battle, it was
thought that McDonough had surrendered. But when the smoke
blew away, the American stars and stripes were still seen floating.
At last the British struck. At this sight, a wild huzza rose up
spontaneously, from the troops on shore. At dusk the enemy ceased
his cannonade, destroyed his batteries, and secretly made prepara-
tions for removing his baggage, a course rendered absolutely neces-
sary by the unexpected destruction of his fleet. In the dead of the
night, abandoning his sick and wounded, he 'began a precipitate
retreat. The spoils of the Americans were immense. The English
had retired eight miles before their flight was discovered. The pur-
suit was then immediately begun, but a heavy storm prevented any
fruits, except a few prisoners, who were cut off from the rear guard.
For his conduct in this defence, Macomb was brevetted a Major-
General. On the conclusion of peace, he remained in the army,and was
appointed to the command of the north-western frontier. In 1821,
he removed to Washington, as chief of the corps of engineers. On the
death of General Brown, Macomb became commander-in-chief of
the army. His decease occurred at the capitol, June 25th, 1841.
SAMUEL SMITH.
AMUEL SMITH, a Major-General
in the Maryland militia, claims a
place in this gallery of portraits. It
was his destiny to serve his country
through two wars, and in each emi-
nently to distinguish himself. In the
Revolution, he held the rank of Lieu
tenant-Colonel on the continental estab-
lishment, and made the gallant defence
of Fort Mifflin, one of the most brilliant
affairs of the war. In the contest of
__ 1812, he commanded the American army
at the battle of Baltimore, and proved that, though advanced in
191
192 SAMUEL SMITH.
years, he had lost none of the vigor and fire of his youth. He ran
a civil career also of great splendor. There are few men who have
shone with more equal lustre, in all capacities, than General Samuel
Smith, or who survived so long to behold the increasing greatness
of the little republic for which they bled in youth.
Smith was born in Lancaster county, Pennsylvania, on the 27th
of July, 1752. His father, shortly after the birth of the son, removed
to Carlisle, in the same state, and finally, in 1760, settled in Baltimore.
Here the elder Smith became a successful merchant. The son, having
finished his education, at the age of fourteen was placed in his father's
counting-room. He continued serving an apprenticeship here until
his nineteenth year, when he was sent to Europe as supercargo in
one of his father's vessels. He spent some time in travelling abroad,
and on his return home, at the age of manhood, was taken into part-
nership by his parent. But his bold and energetic mind was better
adapted for the camp than the counting-house, and accordingly, when
the War of Independence broke out, he solicitedand obtained a cap-
taincy in the regiment of Colonel Smallwood. In that gallant band
he was one of the most courageous. He rose rapidly to the rank
of Major, and subsequently to that of Lieutenant-Colonel. In the
latter capacity he won unfading laurels by his defence of Fort Mifflin,
in 1777, holding the post for a space of seven weeks, against the
combined land and naval forces of the enemy. His behavior on this
occasion was so spirited, that Congress, by a resolution of the 4th
of November, 1777, voted him a sword as some token of their
approbation. Smith took part in the battle of Brandy wine ; endured
the privations of Valley Forge ; and was subsequently present at
Monmquth, the most fiercely contested combat in the north. On
the conclusion of peace he retired to his adopted state.
But he was not destined to remain in the private sphere to which
he had so unpretendingly retired. An insurrection had broken out
in the western part of Pennsylvania, in consequence of the excise
laws passed by the federal government ; and Washington, convinced
that mercy consisted in sharp and speedy remedies, called out an
imposing force in order to quell the rebellion. Among other states
Maryland was called on for her quota of troops. At the head of
these, Smith was placed, with the rank of Brigadier-General in the
militia. The insurrection having been peaceably quelled, he once
more retired to private life. His fellow citizens, however, did not
suffer him to remain unemployed. He had distinguished himself as
an ardent advocate of the federal constitution, and indeed had no
small share in procuring its adoption by Maryland : consequently he
SAMUEL SMITH. 193
\nras now honored, by the city of Baltimore, with the post of repre-
sentative in Congress, an office he continued to hold for many years.
He was subsequently chosen United States Senator, and continued
to be re-elected, for successive terms, during twenty-three years. In
his legislative capacity he distinguished himself as eminently as
formerly in military affairs. He was a close and logical debater ;
indefatigable in his duties; and a resolute, persevering and energetic
advocate of whatever he undertook. His name is found connected
with most of the great political measures of his day.
When the threatened descent of the British on Baltimore took
place, in September, 1814, he assumed command of the defence, by
right of his rank as Major-General of the militia. His dispositions
were admirable, both in his preparatory measures, and on the two
days of the conflict. In anticipation of the landing of the enemy,
Smith detached General Strieker, on the llth of September, towards
North Point. The troops halted near the head of Bear Creek, seven
miles from Baltimore, where they awaited during the night of the
llth, further intelligence from the foe. On the following morning,
the videttes brought in news that the British were landing, under
cover of their gun-boats, near North Point. The Americans im-
mediately took up a position at the union of two roads leading from
the city to the Point; while an advance party, under Major Heath,
was pushed forward to check the progress of the enemy's van. A
skirmish in which General Ross, the British commander fell, was
the result of this movement. Towards three o'clock in the afternoon,
the enemy's advancing columns came in sight of the main body of
our army, and, after a preliminary discharge of rockets, the action
grew general and fierce along the whole line. For nearly an hour
and a half General Strieker successfully maintained his ground; but
finally was forced to give way, and fell back to a new position.
Half a mile in the rear of the spot where he now disposed his forces,
was the line of intrenchments which had been drawn around the
city : and the enemy, seeing this, considered it advisable to draw
off his soldiers for the night. General Strieker was here reinforced
by General Winder. Meantime other troops manned the intrench-
ments, all resolute for the final struggle, which was expected on the
morrow.
Throughout the night, accordingly, there was but little sleep in.
the American camp, for many of those brave defenders had families
in the city, and anxiety for their fate kept all watchful with suspense.
The dawn at last came, and was ushered in by the sound of guns in
the direction of Fort McHenry, where the British fleet had opened a
xvii 14
194 SAMUEL SMITH.
bombardment. The land forces of the enemy were now in full view
on the Philadelphia road, about a mile and a half in front of General
Strieker's position ; and directly his masses were seen moving off to
the right, as if with the design of making a circuit and assaulting the
city on the York or Hartford roads. Smith promptly manoeuvred
his forces to counteract this movement of the foe. Finding himself
foiled, the ^British General concentrated his regiments in front, and
advanced to within a mile of the intrenchments, as if with the
intention of assaulting the works before night. This new disposition
of the enemy led to a corresponding change in Smith's arrangements.
He recalled Strieker and Winder, and placing them on the right of
the British, held them ready to precipitate them on the flank or rear
of the foe, should an assault be made. Night fell, however, without
any further demonstrations on the part of the enemy; and compara-
tive silence gathered around the space between the two armies ;
though still, in the direction of Fort McHenry, the battle raged
without intermission, bombs crossing and re-crossing, like wild
portents, through the night.
The attack on this fort had begun, as we have stated, at sunrise,
on the 13th. The bomb-vessels of the British having advanced to
within two miles of the place, anchored, on finding that their shells
reached, and, for more than twenty-four hours, maintained an inces-
sant fire. The garrison of Fort McHenry numbered about a thou-
sand men, who were in the highest spirits, and prepared promptly
to repel the attack of the enemy. Unfortunately, however, it was
found that the range of their guns was too short to injure the foe,
and of course the firing on their part was soon abandoned. All
through that morning the Americans, compelled to inactivity, bore,
without shrinking, one of the most tremendous bombardments that
ever took place on this continent. An incessant shower of shells
rained down on the fort, exploding often in the midst of the enclo-
sures; yet the men, though unprovided with bomb-proofs, remained
courageously at their posts. Sometimes, as the hissing missile
came whirling to the earth, it would be discovered that the fuse was
not yet burned down ; and then, one of the boldest of the garrison
would hastily extinguish it. At other times, as the shell buried
itself in the ground, roaring ominously, the by-standers had no
means of escape except to fling themselves flat on their faces, and
suffer the explosion to expend itself around them. At still other
times, the bomb would burst in the air, just before reaching its des-
tination, scattering its iron fragments among the soldiers of the fort,
maiming and killing in every direction.
SAMUEL SMITH. 195
One of these missiles, about two o'clock, P. M., on the 13th,
struck the carriage of a twenty-four pounder in the fort, dismount-
ing the gun, killing a lieutenant, and wounding several men. The
apparent confusion that reigned for awhile, induced the enemy to
suppose that he had caused some fatal damage, when, in fact, the
bustle was created by the endeavor to remount the gun. Deceived
by this idea, the British grew more bold, advancing three of their
bomb-vessels closer to the works. No sight could have been more
welcome to the Americans. Waiting until the ships had come
within range, the garrison opened a well -aimed and rapid fire, which
was the more severe in consequence of the inaction to which it
had been compelled throughout the day. It was not long before the
enemy was glad to retire to his old anchorage-ground. When the
three vessels were thus seen in retreat, a cheer rose simultaneously
from the main fort and from the two batteries beside it, which rose
over all the noise of the bombardment, and dying off across the
waters of the bay, was repeated again and again, until the heavens
themselves seemed to tremble at the shout.
Evening drew on. The silence from the shore showed that the
land forces were quietly lying on their arms ; yet the fury of the
assault on Fort McHeriry was not intermitted, but rather increased.
As quiet gathered around nature, the hissing of the shells became
louder, and the pathways, through which the eye had followed them
with difficulty all day, now grew luminous, like the track of shoot-
ing stars. Soon the black arch of heaven was seamed, to and fro,
by the trail of innumerable shells ; for, as the night advanced, the
firing on the part of the enemy was redoubled. By the ghastly
light flung across the landscape, two or three rocket-vessels and
barges were discerned starting for the city, apparently loaded with
scaling-ladders and men ; but the cannonade opened on them by the
forts in the Patapsco, soon drove back the adventurous boats. Mid-
night came, yet brought no cessation to the strife. As the night
wore, many a heart beat with terrible anxiety, lest, on the dawn of
day, the flag of America should be seen supplanted on the ramparts
by that of Great Britain. Among others, there was one, a prisoner
in the enemy's hands, who watched, through ten long hours of that
terrible darkness, and who, when his eyes were greeted, at sunrise,
by the sight of his country's ensign still waving over the fort, burst
forth into exulting lyric, which will continue to be sung with enthu-
siasm to the latest posterity.
At seven o'clock, on the morning of the 14th, the bombardment
ceased. During the night, Admiral Cochrane had communicated
196 SAMUEL SMITH.
with Colonel Brook, on whom the command of the land forces had
devolved ; and the result was, that the further prosecution of the
enterprise was adjudged impracticable. Accordingly, the enemy
immediately began a retreat. The bombardment, however, was
still continued, in order to distract the attention of the Americans.
The rain, which fell throughout most of the night, and rendered the
darkness intense, assisted further to cover the retrogade movement ;
and when it was discerned in the morning by our forces, the
enemy had gained too great a distance to be pursued with any hopes
of success, especially by troops exhausted by three days' marching
and fighting. That evening the embarkation of the British began,
from North Point, and was completed the next day, shortly after
the hour of noon. The news of the final retirement of the enemy,
was received with rapture in Baltimore, and heard throughout the
country with the liveliest expressions of sympathetic joy. All now
united to compliment the prudence, skill and energy of General
Smith, while they did not forget also to remember the courage dis-
played by his numerous subordinates.
General Smith survived this battle for nearly twenty-five years.
On one other occasion, it was reserved for him to play a prominent
part. It was during the bank riots in Baltimore, in 1836. When
the spirit of license and outrage had attained to such a height that
neither life nor property were any longer safe; when the public
authorities were set at defiance, and the houses of the civic func-
tionaries wantonly sacked, General Smith, as a last resort, though in
his eighty-fourth year, placed himself at the head of such weli-
disposed citizens as were courageous enough to sustain him, and
issuing into the streets, carrying the flag of the United States, called
on all friends of the laws to rally around him. The example of his
grey hairs, the recollection of his many services, and the sight of
the banner for which he had fought so frequently, thrilled the crowd
with enthusiasm, aroused the dormant citizens to a sense of their
duty, and struck dismay into the rioters. The law triumphed.
There is no spectacle more grand than that of this aged veteran
thus fearlessly risking his life against a lawless mob, to preserve
those liberties, to gain which he had faced the armies of Great Bri-
tain, sixty years before !
In October, 1836, in consequence of this act, General Smith was
elected mayor of Baltimore, almost unanimously. He held the
office until near the period of his decease. On the 22d of April,
1839 this aged soldier died ; one of the last, as well as best, of the
men of the Revolution !
JACKSON AT THE BATTLE OF EMCCKFAO
ANDREW JACKSON.
HERE never, perhaps, was a warrior of
greater resolution than Jackson. He was a
man, as Emmett said, to burn every blade
of grass before an enemy ; or, as the
Prince of Orange even more heroically ex-
pressed it, to die in the last ditch sooner than
submit. He never trifled in great emergen-
cies, never shrank from assuming the respon-
sibility required by circumstances, but while
others wasted precious moments in hesita-
"ipsssias, tation, acted, and with a terrible energy and
promptitude, which appalled opposition. His determined will has
passed into a proverb. Whatever he conceived to be right, that he
fearlessly did, and would have attempted it, even if superhuman
pDwers opposed him. He had the nerve of Cromwell, without his
craft j the headlong impetuosity of Murat, without his weakness ; the
xvn* 197
198 ANDREW JACKSON.
desperate resolution and confidence in himself, which carried Na
poleon from victory to victory. Frequently, his wilfulness degene-
rated into obstinacy, while his impulsive character sometimes
hurried him into excess. But, nevertheless, if honesty, patriotism,
and unflinching adherence to conviction, constitute the hero, then
was Jackson one in the highest and fullest sense of that term.
It was his terrible firmness of purpose, more than his skill in
tactics, which made him so uniformly successful in war. He pos-
sessed a tenacity that nothing could overcome. He would have
stood up in single combat, and suffered himself to be hacked, piece-
meal, but never surrendered. In an unsuccessful campaign, he
would have struggled long after hope had left every other bosom,
and then ravaged the line of his retreat with fire and sword, to
harass his pursuers. It is now known that, if he had been defeated
at New Orleans, he would have burned the city. His conduct in the
Seminole campaign of 1818, when he crossed the Spanish frontier,
and hung two Englishmen who had fomented the disturbances, is
another illustration of this point in his character. One less familiar,
but equally striking, is his refusal to disband the volunteers under
his command in 1812, when they were at a distance from home, and
many of them sick, marching them back at the expense of the United
States, and in direct opposition to orders from Washington. His
political career furnishes numerous instances of this indomitable
will. In short, he was inflexible in his own opinion, whether in
military or civil life. Those who thought with him in politics, con-
sidered him on this account, a hero ; those who differed with him,
and party violence never raged greater than in his day, regarded
him as perversely obstinate. To posterity must be left the task of
deciding between the two. But all men agree that this firmness was
invaluable in war, and that America has seen few Generals who
can compete with the hero of New Orleans.
Andrew Jackson was born at the Waxhaw settlement, South
Carolina, on the 15th of March, 1767. His parents had emigrated
from Ireland only two years before. The father died soon after the
birth of the son. His mother, though in narrow pecuniary circum-
stances, aspired to educate her orphan boy to be a minister of the
gospel ; and, with this purpose in view, placed him at an academy,
where he continued until the approach of the British army into the
vicinity, induced him to assume arms. This was in 1781, when Jackson
was only fourteen. He was soon taken prisoner, as well as an older
brother, and both were cruelly maltreated by their captors, the
brother especially so, for he died of his injuries shortly after being
ANDREW JACKSON. 19J
exchanged. The life of Andrew was only saved by receiving on
his hand the blow intended for his head. The mother soon followed
her son to the grave, and Andrew became sole heir of the small
family estate. He now abandoned all thoughts of the ministry, and
began to study law at Salisbury, North Carolina. In 1786, he was
admitted to the bar. Two years after, actuated by that ambition
which even then carried so many ardent spirits westward, he removed
to Nashville, at that time a new settlement on the frontier of North
Carolina.
In 1790, what is now the state of Tennessee was organized into
a territory, and Jackson received the appointment of United States
Attorney. From this period he played a prominent part in the
politics of the district. When the territory was erected into a state,
in 1796, he was a leading member in the convention to frame a con-
stitution. His professional career was attended with much success.
He was even more distinguished, however, in the continual skir-
mishes with the savages, that took place on that exposed frontier ;
and the Indians, in compliment to his courage and skill, called him
" the Sharp Knife," and the " Pointed Arrow." On the adoption of
the state constitution, he was chosen a representative to Congress,
and in the succeeding year, a United States Senator. He disliked
the intrigues of politics, however, and, after one session, resigned his
seat. He was now appointed a judge of the Supreme Court of Ten-
nessee, but this honorable office also, he soon threw up. Retiring
to a farm which he had purchased on the Cumberland river, in the
vicinity of Nashville, he continued to reside there, declining all civil
employments until the war of 1812 broke out.
This contest found Jackson a Major-General of the militia. His
ambition was decidedly military, and though he had refused all
ordinary offices, he now sought the commission of a Brigadier-
General in the army of the United States. His competitor, Win-
chester, triumphed over him; but Jackson was not left without
employment, being sent with nearly three thousand volunteers .to
Natchez, to guard that frontier against an apprehended visit of the
Indians. The threatened tempest, however, blew over, and Jackson
was ordered by the Secretary of War to disband his troops on the
spot. This he refused to do, alleging, that as they were far from
home, without funds, and many of them sick, such a proceeding
would be unjust. He consequently kept them together, and led
them back to Tennessee, where he disbanded them. The govern-
ment accepted the explanation. In the autumn of 1813, he again
took the field, at the head of one of the two divisions of Tennessee
200 ANDREW JACKSON.
militia, called out to chastise the Creeks, in Georgia, and avenge
the massacre at Fort Mimms.
Accordingly, on the 2d of November, Jackson detached Brigadier.
General Coffee on an expedition against Tallushatchee, which was
completely successful, and a few days after, followed it up in person,
by the great battle of Talledega, in which over three hundred of the
Creeks fell. From this period, until the middle of January, 1814,
he remained comparatively idle, in consequence of the term of most
of his troops having expired, though, meantime, the campaign was
prosecuted with considerable success, by Generals Cocke, Clairborne,
Floyd, and others, at the head of different detachments. At last, on
the 14th of January, Jackson was joined at Fort Strother by
eight hundred fresh volunteers from Tennessee. His force
was, by this, raised to nine hundred and thirty, exclusive of Indians.
He immediately began offensive operations. On the 20th, while
advancing into the heart of the enemy's country, he was joined by
two hundred friendly Indians. On the 22d, he was attacked in his
temporary camp at Tallapoosa, by a superior force of savages, who
were, however, beaten off after a desperate struggle. The scarcity
of supplies, and the number of his wounded, induced Jackson, on the
following morning, to commence a retrograde movement towards
Fort Strother. On the second day of his retreat he was attacked
by the savages at Enotachopco creek, and, at first, owing to the
flight of a portion of his troops, the Indians gained some advantage,
but the regulars manfully standing their ground, the enemy was
finally repulsed, with a loss of over two hundred of his warriors.
The Americans were now permitted to prosecute their way without
further molestation.
On the 24th of March, Jackson having been reinforced, once more
marched into the heart of the Creek country. On the 27th, he had
reached Horse-Shoe Bend, on the Tallapoosa, three miles beyond the
spot where the fight of the 22d of January had occurred. Here, as
the name implies, the river makes a curvature, and in the bend thus
formed, the Indians had collected for a last desperate stand, fortifying
the neck of land which led into their retreat, by a breastwork nearly
eight feet in height, pierced with double rows of port-holes, and so
constructed that no enemy could approach without being subjected
to a double and cross fire. Jackson's first care was to line the oppo-
site side of the river, so as to prevent the escape of the savages. He
then advanced boldly to the attack of the intrenchments in front.
The friendly Indians stationed on the banks, becoming warned of
the battle, crossed over to the peninsula, and drove the Creeks
ANDREW JACKSOy. 201
into their fortifications. But failing to dislodge them from their
works, Jackson, after ordering General Coffee's detachment to guard
the banks, in place of the Indians, advanced to the storm. The
troops, who had waited impatiently for this movement, received the
'.ommand with loud shouts of joy. The struggle, for a few minutes,
was awful. The hostile savages fought with the rage of wounded
tigers, firing rapidly, and with deadly aim, through the port-holes ;
while the Americans, advancing to the breastwork, struggled,
muzzle to muzzle, in many cases the balls of the Indians being
welded on the bayonets of the assailants. At last the intrenchments
were carried. And now the rout and slaughter became fearful.
Scarcely twenty of the foe escaped unhurt. Three hundred were
taken prisoners. Five hundred and fifty-seven dead bodies were
found, among them that of Manahoee, the great prophet of the
Creeks. The loss on Jackson's side, was forty-nine killed, and one
hundred and fifty-four wounded. From that hour, the proud heart
of the Creeks was broken. ' They never again lifted the hatchet
against the United States, but on the 1st of August, sent their prin-
cipal chiefs to Fort Jackson to sue for peace.
This treaty had scarcely been completed, however, before the
attention of Jackson was required to avert a greater danger. He
had, after adjusting the Creek difficulties, fixed his head quarters
at Mobile, and here, on the 27th of August, he received intelligence
that three British vessels had arrived at Pensacola two days before,
and after disembarking a large quantity of provisions and munitions
of war, had placed a garrison of between two and three hundred
troops in the fort. The express which brought this startling infor-
mation, also announced that thirteen sail of the line, with ten thou-
sand troops, and the requisite number of transports, were daily
expected. On the receipt of this news, Jackson despatched a courier
to the Governor of Tennessee, requesting that the whole quota of
the militia of that state should be at once brought into the field. On
the 15th of September, the British squadron from Pensacola,
augmented by another ship, made an attack on Fort Bowyer, at the
foot of Mobile bay, thirty miles below the town of the same name,
where Jackson was established ; but they were repulsed with a
slaughter almost unprecedented in the annals of war, one of the
ships losing one hundred and forty-nine men, out of a crew of one
hundred and seventy. Having received an accession of force from
Tennessee, amounting to nearly two thousand, Jackson marched to
chastise the Spanish Governor of Pensacola, for allowing the British to
fit out hostile expeditions in that port. He stormed one of the batteries of
the town on the 7th of November, on which' the Governor surren-
26
202 ANDREW JACKSON.
dered the city and fort unconditionally. On this, the British squadron,
consisting of seven armed vessels, sailed from the harbor. Having
completed his object, Jackson now hurried to New Orleans, thai
place being threatened by a formidable expedition which had just
sailed from Jamaica, with the motto of "beauty and booty," to
stimulate the soldiers : an expedition, forming one of a series begun
with the express intent, as Admiral Cochrane had officially declared,
" to lay waste all towns and districts of the United States found
accessible to the attack of British armaments."
Jackson reached New Orleans on the 2d of December, and imme-
diately began to place it in a condition of defence. It is well knowu
that innumerable channels intersect the delta of the Mississippi,
below the town. Few of these were properly fortified ; and, in con-
sequence, the alarm was general. Discontent, too, was abroad.
The city corps had refused to turn out. Spies daily left the city to
bear information to the enemy, yet the legislature hesitated to sus-
pend the habeas corpus act. In this crisis, General Jackson acted
with an energy, which, however despotic it seemed to its victims,
probably saved the town. He proclaimed martial law, and laid an
embargo on all vessels in the harbor, thus cutting off treasonable
communication with the enemy. He called out the militia, en masse.
He impressed the negroes to assist in the defence. A characteristic
anecdote will show the vigor and promptitude with which he acted.
He had taken the cotton of a merchant to use upon the lines, when
the owner, indignant at this appropriation of his property, called at
head-quarters to remonstrate. Jackson heard the complaint in
silence. " All wrong, very wrong, as you say/' he remarked in
his impetuous manner, when the man had closed : " tell that sentry
to walk in." The merchant, fancying he was about to have resti-
tution, hurried to obey, and the sentry appeared. " Give that man
your musket," said Jackson, addressing the soldier, and pointing to
the merchant : then, turning to the astonished trader, he said sternly,
" now sir, I will make affairs right march down to the lines and
defend your property." Arbitrary as such conduct appeared to the
listener, it was, perhaps, necessary to the salvation of the city. It
was a crisis when not only men's property, but their lives belonged
no longer to themselves, but to the state.
The British appeared off the mouth of the Mississippi on the 5th
of December, only three days after the arrival of Jackson at New
Orleans. One of those circumstances, which appear fortuitous, but
which are, perhaps, ordained by a protecting Providence, had delayed
the sailing of the expedition from Jamaica for ten days, and thus, by
affording time for Jackson's arrival, saved the city. The occurrence,
ANDREW JACKSON. 203
tiot generally known, was this. The fleet of Cochrane, with the
troops of Packenham were at Jamaica, ready for the expedition,
except that they were ordered to wait the arrival of a squadron
from England under Captain Floyd. This squadron had reached
the port of Fayal, as early as the 26th of September, but finding an
American privateer, the General Armstrong, in the harbor, had
determined to capture her. Two several attacks, however, were
made on the Armstrong without success : the first by three boats,
the last by sixteen. In these struggles the British lost two hundred
of their best men. Finding that a third attack, still more imposing,
was to be made, Captain Reid of the Armstrong scuttled and aban-
doned her, taking refuge on shore under the Portuguese authorities.
This assault was made in defiance of the sanctity of a neutral port;
and when the commandant at Fayal remonstrated against the attack,
he was told that if he attempted to protect the Armstrong, the British
would fire on the town. No more spirited defence, than that of this
little privateer, is recorded in the whole annals of naval history.
But its greatest merit, though one little suspected at the time, was
that, by causing a delay of ten days on the part of Captain Floyd,
it protracted for just that period, his arrival at Jamaica, and the
sailing of the fleet. If the squadron had not been detained at Fayal
by the Armstrong, it is almost certain that the British would have
arrived off the Mississippi on the 25th of November. At that period
Jackson had not reached New Orleans, and, as no adequate measures
were being taken for its defence, the place must have fallen before
he made his appearance on the 2d of December.
The British had taken the precaution to make themselves tho-
roughly acquainted with the topography of the coast, and discovering
that the routes through Lakes Ponchartrain and Borgue were the
most assailable means of access to the city, they resolved to lose no
time in needless delays, but push on at once to the object of their
desires. An unexpected difficulty, however, soon presented itself in
a flotilla of American gun-boats, which had been sent to defend
these passes. A sharp action ensued, in which the enemy, after a
heavy loss, came off victorious. No obstacle now existing to their
landing, the troops were disembarked on Pea Island, where some Spa-
nish fishermen speedily betrayed that the pass of Bienvenu was as yet
unguarded, and that a vigorous movement of five or six hours made
from this point, would carry the assailants to the heart of New
Orleans. Availing themselves of this information, a strong force
was immediately transported across the river, and before noon or
the 22d took up a position on Vivery's canal
204 ANDREW JACKSON.
It was at this spot, scarcely nine miles distant from the city, that
a part of Jackson's staff accidentally discovered the enemy. The
news spread consternation through the town. But, meantime, the
American commander had heen reinforced by four thousand Ten-
nessee militia, and by the Baratarians, a body of half piratical men,
inhabiting some islands on the coast, to whom an amnesty had been
granted on the condition that they joined in the defence of New
Orleans. Accordingly, leaving a force to guard the avenues to the
city in his rear, Jackson marched out to assail the British with all his
available troops, amounting to fifteen hundred men. His intention
was to mal?e a night attack on the front and flanks of the enemy ;
but the plan failing in several important particulars, he ordered a
retreat, and fell back, after a doubtful engagement, to a narrow
plain on the road to New Orleans, flanked on the right by the Mis-
sissippi, and on the left by an impregnable cypress swamp. The
alacrity, however, with which he offered in this early stage to meet
the foe, inspired his army with resolution and checked the ardor of
the enemy !
It had been the intention of General Jackson to march out into
the open field, and renew the engagement in the morning, but sub-
sequent reflection on the inferiority of his force induced him to
resolve on a strictly defensive system. Accordingly, he began for-
tifying his position with incredible alacrity. A ditch dug for agri-
cultural purposes, ran along his front from the river to the swamp ;
it was only left for him, therefore, to throw up an intrenchment and
erect flanking batteries. Bales of cotton were successfully employed
for this purpose. Bastions were hastily constructed and mounted
with heavy cannon, to enfilade the whole front. To render the
position still more secure a battery of twenty guns, flanking the length
of the parapet, was erected on the opposite bank of the Mississippi,
and committed to the charge of Commodore Patterson of the navy,
and a body of militia.
The English force was under the command of Sir Edward Pack-
enham, a brave and veteran soldier. This General at first deter-
mined to make regular approaches to the works ; but having failed
in the attempt, in consequence of the superior weight of the Ameri
can artillery, he resolved, with the impetuous hardihood he had
acquired in the Peninsular war, to carry the intrenchments by
assault, and thus put an end at once to the affair. With troops fresh
from the Spanish campaigns, he did not doubt of complete suc-
cess against the raw levies of which his spies informed him the force
of General Jackson was entirely composed. He neglected, however
ANDREW JACKSOJT. 205
no advantage which strategy could give him ; for he employed his
men in secretly widening the canal behind his army, by which boats
might be brought up to the Mississippi, and troops ferried across to
carry the battery we have spoken of, on the right bank of the river,
so as to prevent the assailing columns from being raked by its fire,
as they moved to attack the parapet.
These preparations having all been completed by the night of the
7th of January, Packenham determined on an assault before day-
break of the ensuing day. Colonel Thornton, with about fourteen
hundred men, was to cross over by night to the western bank of the
Mississippi, and, storming the battery there, proceed up the river
until he came opposite to New Orleans. Meantime, the main attack
on the intrenchments on the eastern bank was confided to two co-
lumns ; the first led by General Gibbs, the second by General Keane.
The reserve was commanded by General Lambert. Having made
these dispositions, the soldiers were allowed some rest ; but many an
eye refused to sleep ; and the sentry, as he walked his rounds, dreamed
of past victories, or anticipated the morrow's glory. In the American
camp all was still. The night was unusually cold, and sounds were
distinguishable for a long distance ; but nothing was heard from the
British position, except an occasional murmur rising and falling on
the night wind.
Various delays occurred on the part of the enemy, to prevent
Colonel Thornton from reaching his destination in time ; and the
night passed without Packenham receiving the expected news of his
success. At length, that General became impatient, and, toward?
five o'clock, ordered the assault. Gibbs's column advanced first to
the attack. But the wintry dawn had now begun to break, and the
Americans, amid a storm of bombs and Congreve rockets, suddenly
beheld the dark masses of the enemy, at the distance of nine hun-
dred yards, moving rapidly across the plain. Instantly a tremen-
dous fire was opened on them from the batteries. But the veterans
of the 4th and 21st regiments, undaunted by the danger, pressed
steadily forward. When they came within reach of the musketry
of the militia, the crash of fire-arms joined its sharp explosions to
the deep roar of the artillery, and burst after burst rolled off across
the plain, resembling incessant and tremendous peals of thunder.
Yet that splendid British infantry never flinched. The fire from the
ramparts, like a stream of burning lava, now filled the intervening
space ; but still undaunted, these veterans pushed on, closing up
their front as one after another fell, and only pausing when they
cached the slippery edge of t the glacis.
XVIII
206 ANDREW JACKSON.
Here it was found that the scaling-ladders and fascines had been
forgotten, and a halt occurred, until they could he sent for and
brought up. All this time, the deadly rifles of the Americans were
aimed at the British ranks, which soon, riddled through and through,
fell back in disorder from the foot of the parapet. Seeing the con-
fusion, Packenham himself galloped up. Dashing immediately to
the head of the 44th regiment, he rallied the men, and led them to
the foot of the glacis, his head uncovered, himself cheering them
on. While in this very act, a bail struck him, and he fell mortally
wounded. Appalled by this sight, his troops once more recoiled ;
but their officers, reminding them of past glories, again brought
them up to the attack ; and, with desperate but unavailing courage,
they strove to force their way over the ditch and up the fatal
intrenchments. Quick and close, however, the rifles of the Ameri-
cans met them at every turn. Again they recoiled. General Gibbs,
who had succeeded Packenham, was struck down. But the reserve
was now in full advance ; and, notwithstanding the tempest of grape
and shell which swept the plain, it continued to press on, led by the
gallant Keane. Soon he, too, fell. But the regiment he led was a
thousand strong, and composed wholly of Sutherland Highlanders.
It had faced death in many a battle-field before. Burning to avenge
the fall of three commanders in succession, it rushed on with inex-
tinguishable fury, forcing the leading files before it, until the slope
of the glacis was gained ; and here, though destitute of fascines or
ladders, the men still pressed on, mounting on each others shoulders
to gain a foothold in the works, where they fought with the ferocity
of frantic lions, mad with rage and despair. Few of them, how-
ever, reached this point ; for the rifles of the defenders cut them off
almost to a man, before they crossed the ditch, and those who clam-
bered up the intrenchments, were bayoneted as they appeared. In
the midst of this terrific carnage, an officer on a white horse was
seen dashing to the glacis. He fell, pierced by a ball, just as he
reached the edge ; but the noble animal, plunging headlong for-
ward, over the wounded and the dead, crossed the ditch, leaped the
intrenchments with one wild bound, and stood trembling in every
limb, in the very heart of the American forces. The gallant animal
was taken care of, and subsequently became a favorite with the
soldiers.
Thrice the enemy advanced to the assault ; thrice he was hurled
back in wild disorder. Nothing could withstand the terrific fire of
the Americans. The plain was already encumbered with nearly
two thousand dead and wounded, and, as fast as the heads of
ANDREW JACKSON. 207
columns appeared, they melted away before the grape-shot. On
the left, some companies, which at first had penetrated to an unfi-
nished intrenchment, were fast disappearing beneath the murderous
cannonade. At places where the fiercest struggles had been made,
the dead were piled in heaps. The fearful carnage of that day
brought to many a mind the slaughter of the forlorn hope at Bada-
joz ; and the British officer, who had succeeded to the command,
almost gave way to audible lamentations, when he saw the full ex-
tent of the carnage.
The utter ruin of the enemy's army would have followed, but for
the success of Colonel Thornton, on the right bank of the river.
Jackson was forced, in consequence of this, to turn his attention in
that direction ; and preparations were accordingly made to dislodge
the foe from his captured position. Before, however, any move-
ment was made, Thornton was withdrawn from the works, the
British General not considering himself able to spare sufficient troops,
after his severe losses, to hold it. Jackson hastened to regain the
lost battery. The enemy now fell back to his old station, where he
remained until the 18th, although continually annoyed by the artillery
of the Americans, on both sides of the river. But, at midnight of
that day, he precipitately retreated, and, regaining his boats, em-
barked finally on board the shipping. The difficulties of a pursuit
were so great, from the nature of the ground and other causes, that
Jackson did not attempt seriously to harass the retreat. A few pri-
soners were taken, and several transports captured. Thus was
repelled an expedition, consisting of eleven thousand land troops,
aiid four thousand seamen and marines ; and which had been so
confident of success, that it was accompanied by custom-house and
other civil functionaries.
For this brilliant victory, Jackson received the thanks of Congress
and a gold medal. In 1818, he was entrusted with the command
of the troops destined to operate against the Seminoles. His usual
energy characterised him in this war. He penetrated into Florida,
to the villages of the savages and fugitive slaves who had joined
them, devastating their settlements, and carrying fire and sword
through all their region. Discovering that the Indians had been
supplied with arms and ammunition from the Spanish posts in the
vicinity, he seized these places, and executed two British subjects
whom he found there, engaged in this lawless traffic. The contest
was closed by the conquest of Florida. The posts taken by Jackson
were, however, subsequently restored to Spain; but an attempt, in
Congress, to pass a vote of censure on the General, was defeated by
208 ANDREW JACKSOIf.
a large majority. There can be no doubt, nevertheless, that th
seizure of these posts was a violation of a neutral soil, though, per-
haps, justified by the emergency of the case, if not by the secret
assistance rendered to the Indians by Spain. In 1821, by the pur-
chase of Florida, the United States rendered any such arbitrary
measures, for the future, unnecessary. Jackson was now appointed
Governor of the new territory. But he did not long retain this office,
resigning it in the following year, and retiring to his farm.
In 1823, he was elected to the Senate of the United States; but,
soon after, becoming a prominent candidate for the presidency, va-
cated his seat. In the electoral college, for 1S24, he received ninety-
nine votes; Mr. Adams, eighty-four ; Mr. Crawford, forty-one ; and
Mr. Clay, thirty-seven. The election of a President consequently
devolved on the House, when Mr. Adams was chosen. In 1828
however, being again a candidate, he received one hundred and
seventy-eight electoral votes, while Mr. Adams obtained but eighty-
three. The history of his administration does not come within the
scope of this work. In 1832, he was again elected President by a
majority of one hundred and seventy electoral votes over his antago-
nist, Mr. Clay. In 1836, he retired to private life.
From this period to that of his death, he resided on his farm,
which he called " The Hermitage," near Nashville, Tennessee. He
gradually became enfeebled in body, but retained his mental facul-
ties in full force. A few years before his decease, he connected him-
self with the Presbyterian church ; in the communion of which he
continued, from that hour, a sincere and exemplary member. He
died on the 8th of June, 1845.
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