A HISTORY, OF THE WAR OF 1812-15 BETWEEN THE UNITED STATES AND GREAT BRITAIN

CHAPTER I.
Causes of the War, [001.] Franklin's Prediction, [001.]—British Feeling toward
the United States, [002.]—The Unsurrendered Posts, [003.]—Indian Troubles,
4.—Impressment of Seamen, [007.]—The Decrees and Orders in Council,
13.—Declaration of War, [018.]
CHAPTER II.
The Detroit Campaign, [021.]—First Bloodshed, [021.]—Attitude of
Political Parties, [022.]—Plans for Invading Canada, [026.]—Capture of
Michilimackinac, [030.]—Engagements at the River Raisin and Maguaga,
31.—Battle of Chicago, [032.]—Hull's Surrender, [036.]
CHAPTER III.
Fights with the Indians, [038.]—Tecumseh's Scheme, [038.]—Harrison's March
to Fort Wayne, [039.]—Defence of Fort Harrison, [041.]—Defence of Fort
Madison, [043.]—Ball's Fight, [044.]
CHAPTER IV.
The Battle of Queenstown, [046.]—Fight at Gananoqui, [046.]—Expedition
against Ogdensburg, [047.]—Elliott captures two War-vessels,
48.—Gathering of Forces on the Niagara, [049.]—Battle of Queenstown,
50.—Death of General Brock, [055.]
CHAPTER V.
War on the Ocean, [061.]—The President and the Little Belt,
62.—The President and the Belvidera, [064.]—Hull's Race, [066.]—The
Constitution and the Guerriere, [068.]—Effect of the Victory, [071.]—The
Wasp and the Frolic, [073.]—The United States and the Macedonian,
76.—The Constitution and the Java, [079.]—Nelson's Prediction, [083.]
CHAPTER VI.
Minor Battles in the West, [084.]—Winchester's Expedition, [084.]—Fight at
Frenchtown, [085.]—Massacre at the Raisin, [087.]—Siege of Fort Meigs, [090.]
CHAPTER VII.
War on the Lakes, [098.]—The Armaments, [098.]—Preliminary Operations,
99.—Expedition against York, [100.]—Death of General Pike, [103.]—Capture
of Fort George, [107.]—Attack on Sackett's Harbor, [112.]—Battle of Stony
Creek, [118.]
CHAPTER VIII.
Battle of the Thames, 140—Harrison's Advance, [140.]—Proctor's Retreat
[141.]—Nature of the Ground, [141.]—Disposition of the Indians, [143.]—The
Battle, [144.]—Death of Tecumseh, [146.]—Flight of Proctor, [146.]—Results
of the Campaign, [148.]
CHAPTER IX.
Wilkinson's Expedition, [149.]—Armstrong's Plans, [149.]—Position of the
Troops, [150.]—Descent of the St. Lawrence, 152—Battle of Chrysler's
Field, [154.]—Hampton's Defeat, [159.]—Cost of the Campaign,
[160.]—Effects on the Niagara Frontier, [161.]—Capture of Fort Niagara,
[163.]—Destruction of Buffalo and other Villages, [166.]
CHAPTER X.
War in the South, [168.]—Engagement at Lewistown, [168.]—Fight in Delaware
Bay, [169.]—Burning of Havre de Grace, Georgetown, and Fredericktown,
[171.]—Battle at Craney Island, [172.]—Destruction of Hampton,
[176.]—Troubles with the Southern Indians, [178.]—Fight at Burnt
Corn Creek, [179.]—Massacre at Fort Mims, [182.]—Jackson's Campaign,
[183.]—Fights at Tallus-chatches, Talladega, the Hillabee Towns, Autosse,
and Econochaca, [183.]—Dale's Canoe Fight, [188.]
CHAPTER XI.
Naval Battles of 1813, [195.]—The Hornet and the Peacock, [195.]—The
Chesapeake and the Shannon, [197.]—The Argus and the Pelican,
[201.]—The Enterprise and the Boxer, [202.]—Decatur Blockaded at New
London, [204.]—A New Embargo, [206.]
CHAPTER XII.
Privateers, [207.]—Their Number and Importance, [207.]—Jefferson's Opinion
of them, [208.]—A London Journal's Prediction, [211.]—Some of their
Captures, and some of their Battles, [212.]—The Yankee's Laughable
Exploit, [222.]
CHAPTER XIII.
Peace Negotiations, [223.]—Campaign against the Creeks, [223.]—Condition
of Affairs at the Opening of the Third Year, [223.]—Congressional
Appropriations, 224—Russian Offers of Mediation, [225.]—Jackson's
Preparations, [227.]—Battles of Emucfau, Enotachopco, and Horseshoe Bend, [227.]

A HISTORY OF THE WAR OF 1812-15.

CHAPTER I.—CAUSES OF THE WAR.

Franklin's Prediction—British Feeling toward the United States—The Unsurrendered Posts—Indian Troubles—Impressment of Seamen—The Decrees and Orders in Council—Declaration of War.

The offender, says an Italian proverb, never forgives; and it is a singular fact that the deepest resentments and the most implacable hatreds are not those arising from a sense of injuries received, but from injuries inflicted. The victim of a deliberate wrong seldom treasures up a purpose of revenge, or demands anything more than a restoration of his rights; but the oppressor always hates those who have escaped from his oppression.

That wise old philosopher, Ben Franklin, who died within seven years after the acknowledgment of our country as a separate nation in 1783, foresaw, even then, what did not take place till more than twenty years after his death. He declared that the war which had just closed in the surrender of Cornwallis was only the war of Revolution, and that the war of Independence was yet to be fought. When, in June, 1785, George III. received John Adams as United States Minister at his court, he said: "I was the last man in the kingdom, Sir, to consent to the independence of America; but, now it is granted, I shall be the last man in the world to sanction a violation of it." If the King was sincere in this declaration, he must have had—as Lincoln said of himself when President—very little influence with the Administration; for, almost from the first, there was systematic disregard of the rights of the new nation, with an evident purpose to humiliate her people and cripple their commerce.

It was hard for the British Ministry and British commanders to realize that those whom they had so lately attempted to chastise as rebels, that they might again tax them as subjects, were now, after their triumph in a long war, and by the terms of a solemn treaty, entitled to the same privileges on the ocean, and the same courtesies in diplomacy, that were accorded to the oldest nation of Europe. They knew as little of the spirit of the American people and the mighty destinies within the coming century, as of the resources of the vast continent which lay behind that thin line of civilization along the Atlantic coast.

This failure to realize, or reluctance to admit, that the people of America were no longer British subjects, and that the United States was an independent nation, was forcibly illustrated in England's disregard, for thirty years, of an important portion of the Treaty of 1783. It was there stipulated that the military posts on our western frontier should be surrendered to our Government. Yet not only did the British forces retain possession of them, but from them they supplied the Indians with arms and ammunition, and instigated savage hostilities against the American settlements. Attempts have been made to deny this, but the proof is unquestionable.

Lord Dorchester, Governor of Canada, called a council of the Indian tribes, engaged to supply them with munitions of war, encouraged them to enmity against the United States, and gave them to understand that they would have the co-operation of his Government. These facts were published in British newspapers, and when the British Minister was asked to account for them, he could give no satisfactory answer. In pursuance of this policy, when war broke out, in 1812, the English commanders not only employed Indian allies, but offered and paid a regular bounty for American scalps. It seems incredible that such things could have been done, only seventy years ago, by one of the most enlightened governments on earth. And yet in our own day we have seen the performance repeated, when the English in South Africa armed the native savages with the best English rifles, that they might make war upon the peaceful and industrious Boers of the Transvaal Republic.

But our people had a grievance, of more than twenty years' standing, which was even more serious than this. While the frontiersman was contending with British treachery and Indian ferocity, which combined to hinder the development of our inland resources, the American sailor—then the best in the world, as was proved by the result of the war—was confronted by a monstrous policy intended to check our growing commerce and recruit the English navy at our expense.

England was at this time the greatest commercial nation in the world. Her merchant ships and whalers were found on every sea, gathering and distributing the productions of every land. In herself she was but an island, not larger than one of our States—a very beautiful and fertile island, it is true; but if her jurisdiction had not extended beyond its borders, she would have been hardly more important than Switzerland or Sweden. But in her colonies and her commerce she was powerful. And now the finest of those colonies, casting off her authority in the only successful rebellion ever waged against it, were rapidly building up a mercantile marine that threatened to rival her own. They had thousands of miles of seacoast, with innumerable fine harbors; they had behind them, not a crowded island, but a virgin continent; the construction of their government and society was such that the poorest man before the mast might not unreasonably hope some day to command a ship. With all this, they were not involved in the wars which were then distracting Europe.

Being neutrals, of course they enjoyed those advantages which England has never been slow to reap when she herself has been a neutral while her neighbors were at war. Their ships could carry goods which in any other ships would have been seized by hostile cruisers. England was now—as she truly said, in extenuation of her depredation on American commerce—struggling for her very existence, against mighty armies led by the ablest general that had appeared since Alexander. Many of the most desirable ports were closed to her merchantmen, her entire coast was declared by Napoleon to be under blockade; and it was exasperating in the last degree to see these misfortunes redounding to the advantage of a people whom she had so lately treated as rebels and outlaws, whose military prowess she had affected to despise, until it had disarmed her legions and conquered an honorable peace. The motive that controlled British policy was plainly revealed in an editorial article which appeared in the London Independent Whig (January 10th, 1813), after the war had been begun and the British public had been astounded by the capture of two or three of their finest frigates. "Accustomed, as we have hitherto been, to a long and uninterrupted tide of success upon the watery element, and claiming an absolute and exclusive sovereignty over the ocean, to be defeated there, where we securely rested our proudest hopes and wishes, might reasonably be expected to check our insolence and mortify our pride. In this view of the case, and if we could not flatter ourselves that it would have the effect of inducing us to abate somewhat of our unwarrantable pretensions, and listen to terms of moderation and forbearance, our regret would be sensibly diminished; since even the misfortune, severe as it is, might be converted into a great and lasting benefit to the nation at large. But the mischief will not confine itself here; the charm of the invincibility of the British navy, like that of the Grecian warrior, being destroyed, the terror that has long preceded our flag, and commanded the abject homage of surrounding nations, will henceforward be dissipated, and every maritime power with whom we may be involved in war will fight with redoubled zeal, ardently and anxiously hoping to lower our ascendency and establish the freedom of the seas." That was it exactly; they were afraid somebody would establish the freedom of the seas, and at that time the Americans seemed most likely to do it.

During the Napoleonic wars, in the early years of the present century, England's navy consisted of about one thousand vessels. As she was recruiting this vast squadron by perpetual press-gangs, and maintaining its discipline by unstinted flogging, while at the same time the flourishing merchant marine of the United States was paying more liberal wages to men before the mast than could be obtained on the English merchantmen, it might have been expected that the number of desertions would only be limited by the number of opportunities to desert. Many of the deserters undoubtedly found employment on American ships, where British captains soon established the custom of searching for and reclaiming them. This was a gross violation of the sovereignty of the United States, for the deck of an American vessel is to all intents and purposes American territory; yet our Government permitted it, and only complained of what were considered its incidental abuses.

The troubles that followed from this beginning remind us of the fable of the camel and the tailor. England's next step was to claim that no British subject had a right to enter any military or marine service but the British, and that any who did so might be taken by British authorities wherever found—just as if they were deserters.

But presently it appeared that something more was needed in order to give Great Britain the full benefit of these assumptions. An English war-vessel stops an American merchantman on the high sea, and sends an officer with armed men on board to inspect the crew and take off any that are British subjects. The officer selects some of the ablest seamen he finds, and claims them. Immediately a dispute arises; the seamen say they are American citizens—or at least not British subjects; the officer says they were born subjects of the English king, and can never throw off their allegiance. Here is a question of fact, and by all the principles of law and justice it would devolve upon the officer to prove his claim. But as the purpose was, not to do justice, but to recruit the British navy, the admission of any such principle would hardly answer the purpose. So the British Government set up the doctrine that the burden of proof rested with the accused; that is, any sailor who was unable to prove on the spot, to the satisfaction of the boarding officer, that he was not a British subject, was to be considered as such, and carried off to serve against his will on a British ship.

The English naval commanders were now fully equipped for this new method of recruiting, and it soon became the practice for them to board American merchantmen and take off as many of the best sailors as they happened to be in need of at the time, with very little reference to their nationality. Some of the men thus forcibly carried off were released by order of the Admiralty, on the application of the American Consul, with the apology that, as English and Americans spoke the same language and were of the same race, it was often difficult to distinguish between them. But as a matter of fact the sailors thus impressed included men of nearly every European nationality—Germans, Swedes, Danes, Portuguese, and even negroes. In 1811 it was believed that more than six thousand American sailors were serving under compulsion in the British navy; and Mr. Lyman, United States Consul at London, estimated the number at fourteen thousand.

This was only the natural result of the original error committed by our Government when it admit ted the right to search for and carry away deserters. And the impressments took place not only on the high seas but often within the three miles from shore to which a maritime country's jurisdiction extends, and sometimes in the very harbors of the United States. Coasting and fishing schooners were robbed of their men, and occasionally fired upon and plundered; while of larger vessels bound for distant waters, the crews were sometimes so depleted by visit from a British man-of-war that the voyage was broken up and the ship compelled to return to port.

The greatest of these outrages was the capture of the Chesapeake, a United States frigate, by the British man-of-war Leopard, June 23d, 1806. The Chesapeake, which had just left Hampton Roads for a cruise, had not been put in fighting trim; not a single gun was ready for use. Her commander, Commodore James Barron, refused to permit a search for British deserters, and the Leopard thereupon fired several broadsides into her, when she struck her flag. Three of her crew were killed, and eighteen wounded. The Leopard carried away four of her men, claiming them as deserters; but it was afterward proved that three of them were Americans, and they were released, while the fourth was tried and executed at Halifax.

When the Chesapeake returned to Norfolk, Va., with the news, it created the greatest excitement the country had seen since the Revolutionary war. Indignation meetings were held, and the people seemed almost unanimous in a desire to plunge at once into war. A schooner was sent to England by our Government, carrying instructions to the American Minister to demand apology and reparation. These were made, after a fashion; but the English Government refused to give up the right of search. President Jefferson, who thought anything, under any circumstances, was better than war, issued a proclamation ordering all British vessels of war then in United States waters to leave at once.

Meanwhile, England had attempted to revive what was known as "the rule of 1756." During the war of that year she had tried to establish a rule that neutral nations were not at liberty to trade with the colonies of a belligerent power from which, in times of peace, they were excluded by the parent state. For instance, if in time of peace France permitted none but her own vessels to trade at the ports of certain of her colonies, she should not be allowed, when at war, to have that trade carried on for her in vessels belonging to a neutral nation; and if such vessels attempted it, they should be liable to capture and confiscation by cruisers of the nation which was at war with France. Such a regulation of course belongs to the domain of international law, and cannot be established by one nation alone. This rule had been frequently disregarded by England herself, and had never received the sanction of other powers; but by orders in council, of November 6th, 1793, she secretly instructed her naval commanders to enforce it against American vessels trading to the French colonies of the West Indies. The United States Government sent commissioners to London, English commissioners were appointed to meet them, and a treaty of "amity, commerce, and navigation" was concluded, which was ratified by both governments in 1795. Yet the capture and condemnation of American vessels went on almost as before.

In the early European wars of this century, the days of paper blockade—a blockade which consists merely in a proclamation, without the presence of armed vessels to enforce it—were not yet over, and on May 16th, 1806, England declared the whole coast of the Continent, from Brest to the mouth of the Elbe, to be in a state of blockade. Napoleon retaliated by issuing from Berlin a counter decree, dated November 21st, 1806, which declared the entire coast of Great Britain to be under blockade, and prohibited any vessel which sailed from a British port from entering a Continental port. England then, by orders in council, published November 17th, 1807, prohibited all neutral trade with France and her allies, except in vessels that had first entered a British port. As paper and ink were cheap, and by this time so little was left of the rights of neutrals that it was hardly worth while to regard them at all, Napoleon tried his hand at one more decree. Under date of Milan, December 17th, 1807, he proclaimed that any vessel which should submit to search by British cruisers, or pay any tax to the British Government, should be forfeit as good prize.

These so-called measures of retaliation—which became famous as the "orders in council," and the "Berlin and Milan decrees"—had very little effect upon the people who were at war, but they laid some of the heaviest penalties of war upon the one maritime nation that was at peace with all. Instead of resorting to war at once, the United States Government, being as well able as any other to issue a foolish proclamation, laid an embargo, December 22d, 1807, upon all shipping in American ports, prohibiting exportations therefrom. This measure met with violent opposition in New England, which was more largely interested in commerce than any other part of the country. The coast of New England presented innumerable harbors, and her forests were full of the finest ship-timber, while in agriculture she could not compete with the States having richer soils and a less rigorous climate. Cotton-spinning was in its infancy, and the manufactures that were to employ her water-powers had not been developed. She naturally and properly looked to the carrying trade as her best means of livelihood. The orders in council and the Berlin and Milan decrees imposed great risks and unjust restrictions upon it, but did not altogether destroy it; the embargo suppressed it at once.

In March, 1809, Congress repealed the embargo, and substituted a system of non-importation and non-intercourse with France and Great Britain. Voyages to their dominions, and trade in articles produced by them, were prohibited; but it was provided that whenever either of those nations should repeal its decrees against neutral commerce, the restriction should be removed as to that nation.

This at last produced some effect, and the French Government revoked the Berlin and Milan decrees, the revocation to take effect on the 1st of November, 1810; the letter of the French Minister communicating the fact to the American Minister adding that it was "clearly understood that the English orders in council were to be revoked at the same time." In August of that year, Hon. William Pinkney, United States Minister at London, laid this before the British Government, but was told that the English decrees would be revoked "after the French revocation should have actually taken place." This was a most palpable evasion, since it is very common for treaties and governmental orders to contain clauses which render them operative only in certain contingencies, and it was the easiest thing in the world for England to give her revocation precisely the same form as that of France, when each would have put the other in force on the date named. If any further proof had been wanted that the British Government was determined to suppress American commerce, at least till her own ships could resume the carrying trade of the world, it was supplied when in 1812 Lord Castlereagh, Minister for Foreign Affairs, declared officially that "the decrees of Berlin and Milan must not be repealed singly and specially, in relation to the United States, but must be repealed also as to all other neutral nations; and that in no less extent of a repeal of the French decrees had the British Government pledged itself to repeal the orders in council." That is, the rights of the United States as a neutral nation were not to be regarded by England, unless the United States could induce or compel France to regard not only these rights but those of all other neutral nations!

With this tangle of orders, decrees, and proclamations, with an important part of the Treaty of 1783 unfulfilled, with unlawful impressments daily taking place on the high seas, and with no disposition on the part of the chief aggressor to right these wrongs, it is difficult to see how negotiations could have been continued longer, or the alternative of war avoided. On the first day of June, 1812, President Madison sent a message to Congress, in which he set forth the facts that necessitated war; Congress accordingly declared war on the 18th, and the next day the President proclaimed it. On the 23d, before this news was received, England revoked her orders in council, thus removing one of the grievances, but still leaving those which amply justified the declaration.

It thus appears that the immediate and specific causes of the war of 1812 between the United States and Great Britain were complex; but the general cause, the philosophic reason, was simply the determined purpose manifested by England to nullify and render valueless the political independence gained by the American colonies in the Revolution.

Since the inauguration of President Jefferson, in 1801, the Government had been in the hands of the Republicans, and all measures looking toward war with England were opposed by the party out of power—the Federalists. The young reader must not be confused by the change of names which political parties have undergone between that day and this. The Republican party of Jefferson's day was the predecessor of what is now called the Democratic party; while the Republican party of our own day is to some extent the successor of the Federal party of that day. Presidents Washington and Adams were Federalists, or what would now be called Republicans; Presidents Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe were Republicans, or what would now be called Democrats.

The Federalists in Congress protested against the declaration of war; and this protest was repeated in every possible form by the Federal newspapers, by mass-meetings, in numerous political pamphlets, and even in many pulpits. The opposition was especially strong in the New England States. The arguments of those who opposed the war were, that the country was not prepared for such a struggle, could not afford it, and would find it a hopeless undertaking; that the war policy had been forced upon Madison's administration by the Republican party, in order to strengthen that party and keep it in power; that if we had cause for war with England, we had cause for war with France also, and it was unreasonable to declare war against one of those powers and not against both. The last argument was the one most vehemently urged, and the war party was denounced and sneered at as making our Government a tool of France. There was a certain amount of truth in each of these propositions. The country was poorly prepared for war at all, least of all with the most powerful of nations. Madison probably had been given to understand that unless he recommended a declaration of war, he need not expect a renomination at the hands of his party. And we certainly had cause of war with France, whose cruisers had captured or destroyed many of our merchantmen. But the position of the Federalists on this question furnishes a singular example of the fact that an argument may sometimes be true in each of its parts, and yet incorrect in its grand conclusion. It seldom happens that any people are prepared for a just and defensive war; they begin their preparations for such a contest after the necessity is upon them. While a portion of the Republican party were undoubtedly actuated by selfish motives, as is the case with some portion of every party, the greater part were unquestionably patriotic, and advocated war because they believed it to be necessary. The crowning argument—that the United States had a grievance against France as well as England, and should make war on both if on either—would have been unanswerable if it had been a moral warfare that was in question. But in military matters it is necessary to consider what is practicable as well as what is logical. For our Government to attempt to fight England and France at the same time, would have been simply suicidal. A good general strives to divide his foes, instead of uniting them. The shrewd thing to do was, to declare war against one only, and by saying nothing of any grievance against the other, make of that other either an ally or a neutral. Then if the war was successful on our part, it would put an end to the outrages complained of, not only on the part of the nation with whom we had fought, but also on that of the other; or if not, a war with the second offender would almost necessarily have the same result. The only question was, with which of those great European powers we should attempt to cope in battle. It was not difficult to decide. England was by far the greater offender. Not only had she done more than France to cripple our commerce, but she still held military posts on our frontier which she had solemnly agreed to give up, and kept the savages in a state of perpetual hostility to our western pioneers. England had colonies contiguous to our territory on the north, which we might make the battle-ground; France had no territory that would serve us for such a purpose. England was the power that our people had been compelled to fight thirty years before, to escape from oppression; France was the power that had assisted us in that war. Mr. Madison's Administration was right in the conclusion that war could no longer be avoided, if the United States was to maintain an honorable place among nations; and right in the determination to wage it against England alone. But for the manner in which it began and conducted that war, the Administration was open to the severest criticism.

CHAPTER II. THE DETROIT CAMPAIGN.

First Bloodshed—Attitude of Political Parties—Plans for Invading Canada—Capture of Michilimackinac—Engagements at the River Raisin and Maguaga—Battle of Chicago—Hull's Surrender.

It was perhaps characteristic of the conduct of the war, that the first blood spilled should be American blood, shed by Americans. This occurred in a riot, occasioned by high party feeling, and it is a curious fact that it took place in the same city where the first blood was shed, also by riot, in the great war of the Rebellion, half a century later. In the night of June 22d, three days after the proclamation of war, a mob in Baltimore sacked the office of the Federal Republican, edited by Alexander Hanson, because he had opposed the war policy. The mob also attacked the residences of several prominent Federalists, and burned one of them. Vessels in the harbor, too, were visited and plundered. About a month later Hanson resumed the publication of his paper, and in the night of July 26th the mob gathered again. This had been expected, and Hanson was ready for them. A large number of his friends, including Generals James M. Lingan and Henry Lee, offered to assist him in protecting his property. When the rioters burst into the building, they were at once fired upon, and one of them was killed and several were wounded. The authorities were slow and timid in dealing with the riot; and when at length a force of militia was called out, instead of firing upon the mob, or capturing the ringleaders, they arrested Hanson and his friends, and lodged them in jail. The rioters, thus encouraged by those whose business it was to punish them, attacked the jail the next night, murdered General Lingan, injured General Lee so that he was a cripple for the rest of his life, and beat several of the other victims and subjected them to torture. The leaders of the mob were brought to trial, but were acquitted!

In this state of affairs, the war party in the country being but little stronger than the peace party, the youngest and almost the weakest of civilized nations went to war with one of the oldest and most powerful. The regular army of the United States numbered only six thousand men; but Congress had passed an act authorizing its increase to twenty-five thousand, and in addition to this the President was empowered to call for fifty thousand volunteers, and to use the militia to the extent of one hundred thousand. Henry Dearborn, of Massachusetts, was made a major-general and appointed to command the land forces. Against the thousand vessels and one hundred and forty-four thousand sailors of the British navy, the Americans had twenty war-ships and a few gunboats, the whole carrying about three hundred guns.

But these figures, taken alone, are deceptive; since a very large part of the British force was engaged in the European wars, and the practical question was, what force the United States could bring against so much as England could spare for operations on the high seas and on this side of the Atlantic. In that comparison, the discrepancy was not so great, and the United States had an enormous element of strength in her fine merchant marine. Her commerce being temporarily suspended to a large degree, there was an abundance both of ships and sailors, from which to build up a navy and fit out a fleet of privateers. Indeed, privateering was the business that now offered the largest prizes to mariners and ship-owners. Yet so blind was President Madison's Administration to the country's main strength and advantage, that he actually proposed to lay up all the naval vessels, as the only means of saving them from capture. Of what use it would be to save from capture war-vessels which were not to sail the sea in time of war, he seems not to have thought. From this fatal error he was saved by the pluck and foresight of Captains Stewart and Bain-bridge. Those two officers happened fortunately to be in Washington at the time, and succeeded in persuading the Administration to give up this plan and order the vessels fitted for sea at once.

War with Great Britain being determined upon, the plan of campaign that first and most strongly presented itself to the Administration was the conquest of the British provinces on our northern border. This had been attempted during the Revolution without success, but none the less confidence was felt in it now. And it was certainly correct in principle, though it proved wofully disastrous in the execution. It is observable that in all recent wars, the party on whose ground the fighting has taken place has been in the end the losing party. Thus the Mexican war in 1846-7 was fought in Mexican territory, and the Mexicans were defeated. The Crimean war was fought in Russian territory, and the Russians were defeated. The war between France and Austria, in 1859, was fought in Austrian territory, and the Austrians were defeated. The Schleswig-Holstein war was fought in Danish territory, and the Danes were defeated. The war between Prussia and Austria, in 1866, was fought in Austrian territory, and the Austrians were defeated. The Franco-German war of 1870 was fought in French territory, and France was defeated. The Russo-Turkish war of 1877 was fought in Turkish territory, and the Turks were defeated. The war of the American Rebellion was fought in territory claimed by the rebels, and they were defeated. It only needs that a war should continue long enough for us to see where the battle-ground is to be, and we can then tell what will be its result. The reason is obvious. A nation that is strong enough to carry the war into its enemy's country, and keep it there, will certainly prove strong enough to win in the end, unless interference by some other power prevents it; while a nation that is too weak to keep war, with all its devastation and ruin, out of its territory, must certainly be defeated unless assisted by some neighboring people. The invaders may, and probably will, lose the greater number of men in the pitched battles; but it is not their harvests that will be trampled, not their mills that will be burned, not their bridges that will be blown up, not their homes that will be desolated, not their families that must fly for shelter to the caves and the forests. Their sources of supply are untouched. This principle was recognized by Scipio, when he declared that the war with Carthage "must be carried into Africa." As England claimed to be mistress of the seas, and practically the claim was almost true, the determination to send our little navy and a fleet of privateers against her was essentially carrying the war into English territory. And as this part of the contest was conducted with skill and valor, it was gloriously successful.

An invasion of Canada being determined upon, the first question that necessarily arose was, at what point that country should first be attacked. To any one not skilled in military science the most obvious plan would seem the best—to march as large a force as possible, without delay, into Canada at the nearest point. A young officer, Major Jesup, of Kentucky, sent a memorial to the Secretary of War, in which he set forth a totally different plan from this. He proposed that a strong expedition should be fitted out to capture and hold Halifax, which was then a city of fifteen thousand inhabitants, with the most important harbor in the Canadian provinces. As a precedent, he could refer to the capture of Louis-burg in 1748. But the Secretary, Hon. William Eustis, of Massachusetts, spoke of it contemptuously as "a very pretty plan," and set it aside. Yet it was sound in principle, and if properly carried out could hardly have failed to secure important results. In striking an enemy on the flank, it is always desirable, to choose that flank by which he holds communication with his base. A blow on the other flank may inflict injury, but it only drives him back toward his base. A movement that cuts him off from such communication compels him either to surrender or to fight at great disadvantage Canada's base—for many supplies, and largely for soldiers—was England. The port of Quebec was frozen up nearly half the year, and the occupation of Halifax by an American force would have gone far toward severing the connection between the provinces and the mother country. That harbor, too, was all-important for the refuge and refitting of British naval vessels on this side of the Atlantic.

Looking at the matter as purely a military problem, it was a pity that this brilliant plan was not adopted. But in a larger consideration it is probably fortunate for us that it was not. It might have resulted—indeed, that was contemplated in the plan—in leaving the Americans, at the close of the war, in possession of Canada. As the structure of our government almost precludes the holding of conquered provinces as such for any length of time, the Canadas must have soon become States of the Republic. But, so far from that being desirable in 1815, it may be doubted whether even yet the time has arrived when it would be wise to incorporate that undesirable population, in a body as they are, with the people of the United States.

In planning for the invasion of Canada, the Administration counted largely upon a supposed readiness of the Canadians to throw off their allegiance to Great Britain and join with the United States. Such expectations have almost never been realized, and in this instance they were completely disappointed.

In the preceding February, William Hull, Governor of the Territory of Michigan, who had rendered distinguished service in the Revolution, had been made a brigadier-general and placed in command of the forces in Ohio, with orders to march them to Detroit, to protect the Territory against the Indians, who were becoming troublesome. In June he was in command of about two thousand men, in northern Ohio, moving slowly through the wilderness. On the day when war was declared, June 18th, the Secretary of War wrote him two letters. The first, in which the declaration was not mentioned, was despatched by a special messenger, and reached General Hull on the 24th. The other informed him of the declaration of war, but was sent by mail to Cleveland, there to take its chance of reaching the General by whatever conveyance might be found. The consequence was, that he did not receive it till the 2d of July. But every British commander in Canada learned the news several days earlier.

Hull arrived at Detroit on the 5th of July, and set about organizing his forces. On the 9th he received from the War Department orders to begin the invasion of Canada by taking possession of Malden, fifteen miles below Detroit, on the other side of the river, if he thought he could do so with safety to his own posts.

He crossed on the 12th, and issued a proclamation to the Canadians. In this he told them that he came to do no injury to peaceable citizens, who might remain at their homes and pursue their usual occupations in security; that he neither asked nor needed their help, but would accept the services of such as might volunteer; and that no quarter would be given to any who adopted Indian modes of warfare or were found fighting in company with the savages who were accustomed to scalp prisoners and murder non-combatants. After the campaign had resulted disastrously, General Hull was censured and ridiculed for this proclamation; but a copy had been transmitted to the Secretary of War, and approved by him; and indeed, if a proclamation was to be issued, it is difficult to find any serious fault with Hull's. The error was in issuing any at all—a thing which a general seldom does with any good effect.

Hull fortified his camp on the east side of the river, and while waiting for his artillery sent out reconnoitring parties toward Fort Malden, and detachments to bring in supplies. As his troops grew impatient, he called a council of war, explained the situation to his officers, and offered to lead them in an attempt to carry the fort by storm, without waiting for artillery, if they thought their men could be relied upon for such an enterprise. Colonel Miller answered that his regiment of regulars could be depended upon for anything they might be ordered to do; but the three militia colonels very wisely answered that raw militia could not be expected to storm a fortified place, unaided by artillery—one of the most hazardous of all military exploits.

So it was decided to defer the attack, and in a few days came the news that on the declaration of war, a force of over six hundred—British and Indians—had promptly moved against the American post at Michilimackinac—on the rocky little island of Mackinaw, commanding the strait between Lake Huron and Lake Michigan—and the garrison of sixty-one officers and men capitulated on the 16th of July. This disaster to the Americans roused the Indians to renewed hostility against them, while it proportionately disheartened Hull, and seems to have been the first step in the breaking down of his courage. After a few skirmishes, he recrossed to Detroit on the 7th of August.

Meanwhile the British Colonel Proctor had arrived at Malden with reënforcements, and on Hull's withdrawal to Detroit he threw a force across the river to intercept his supplies. This force consisted of a small number of British regulars and a considerable number of Indians commanded by the famous Tecumseh.

Learning that a supply train, accompanied by a few volunteers, was coming to him and had got as far as the River Raisin, about thirty-five miles south of Detroit, General Hull sent out a detachment of about two hundred men, under Major Thomas B. Van Horne, to meet it and escort it to camp. This detachment was attacked by the British and savages at Brownstown, twenty miles from Detroit. Van Horne was surprised, and retreated to the edge of a wood. His men behaved badly, and could not be got into line, another retreat was ordered, and finally they ran away in confusion, having lost eighteen killed, twelve wounded, and seventy missing.

Hull sent out another detachment, of six hundred men, under Lieutenant-Colonel James Miller, to open communication with the supply train, which was more fortunate. At Maguaga, fourteen miles from Detroit, they came upon the enemy intrenched behind a breastwork of logs. The British were commanded by Major Muir, the savages by Tecumseh.

Miller at once ordered a bayonet charge, which his men executed in gallant style. The enemy were driven from their works, after some hard fighting, and pursued for two miles. They finally reached their boats, and crossed to Malden, but nearly a hundred Indians lay dead on the field, and the English had lost fifteen killed and forty wounded. The American loss was fifteen killed and sixty wounded. Instead of pushing on to the River Raisin, and securing the supplies. Colonel Miller returned with his command to Detroit.

As the direct road on which all these operations had taken place lay along the river-bank, in sight of the enemy and exposed to the fire of his gunboats, Hull now sent out a detachment under Colonels McArthur and Cass, to escort the train by a circuitous route, farther from the river.

During this gloomy state of things at Detroit, a bloody affair took place on ground that is now within the city of Chicago. Fort Dearborn stood at the mouth of Chicago River, and was occupied by a garrison of about fifty soldiers, with several families. Captain Nathan Heald, commanding the post, had been ordered by General Hull to abandon it and remove his force to Detroit. With so small a force, moving more than two hundred miles through a wilderness in time of war, it was especially desirable to retain the good will of the Indians. Captain Heald accordingly called a council of those who professed to be friendly, told them of his intended movement, and promised to give them all the property in the fort that he could not take with him, at which they were greatly pleased. But in the night, knowing their intemperance and fearing their treachery, he destroyed all the alcohol, firearms, and gunpowder which he could not take away. These were the very articles that the Indians most highly valued, and when, after his departure next morning (August 15th), they discovered the trick that had been played them, they were very much enraged, and hurried on to overtake him. He was moving slowly southward along the shore of the lake, when the crest of a low range of sand-hills on his right was suddenly lighted up with a blaze of musketry. The savages were there in ambush, mercilessly firing upon the little caravan. As quickly as possible the wagons were drawn up together, and the women and children given shelter in and behind them, while the soldiers stood their ground, and returned the fire of the Indians. It was a brave and bloody fight, and when some of the men had fallen the women took up their rifles and fired upon the savages with all the courage and coolness of soldiers. But after heavy losses, the survivors of the party were compelled to surrender. In the course of the fight, an Indian had made his way to the wagons, and, springing into one in which twelve children had been placed, tomahawked every one of them. The victorious savages scalped all the wounded, claiming that they had not been included in the capitulation, and the bloody trophies were sold to Colonel Proctor, who had offered a premium for American scalps.

The fight near Fort Dearborn took place on the same day that the detachment under Colonels McArthur and Cass left Detroit. The next day, August 15th, the British General Isaac Brock, who had arrived at Malden a few days before and assumed command there, formally demanded the surrender of Detroit. This demand included a plain threat of massacre in case of refusal. Said Brock in his letter: "It is far from my intention to join in a war of extermination; but you must be aware that the numerous bodies of Indians who have attached themselves to my troops will be beyond my control the moment the contest commences." This is a fine example of the art of putting things; The reader would suppose from Brock's words—"the Indians who have attached themselves to my troops"—that the savages in red skins had insisted on accompanying the expedition in spite of the most strenuous efforts on the part of the savages in red coats to shake them off; whereas Brock had just held a formal council with the Indians, and regularly arranged the terms of alliance. Two years later, when peace was being negotiated, the British commissioners spoke of these Indians, not as an irresponsible force, but as regular allies, who must share in the treaty.

General Hull gave a defiant reply, ordered McArthur and Cass to return at once with their detachment, and made admirable arrangements to defend the place. In the afternoon there was an artillery duel between two twenty-four pounders in the fort and a British battery at Sandwich on the opposite side of the river.

Brock's force, according to his own testimony, numbered 1330 men, including 600 Indians, and he had also two ships of war. Hull had present for duty about 1000 men. * Brock sent a large body of Indians across the river that night, at a point five

* It is impossible to reconcile the conflicting statements as to the numbers on either side.

miles below the fort, and early in the morning crossed with the remainder of his troops, and at once marched on the place. Hull had posted his regulars in the fort, and his militia in the town, where the stout palings that surrounded the little kitchen gardens gave them an admirable shelter. The two twenty-four pounders were loaded heavily with grape and placed so as to command the road by which the enemy was approaching, in close order, twelve deep. Never was there a better opportunity to do wholesale execution by a single discharge. Everybody was watching in breathless expectation to see the match applied and the murderous iron go surging through those beautiful ranks, when, to the astonishment cf friend and foe alike, a white flag was hung out upon the wall of the fort. Brock himself was surprised, when, sending to know what it meant, he learned that Hull had determined to surrender. The articles of capitulation were drawn up, and the American general surrendered not merely the fort and its garrison, but the whole Territory of Michigan, of which he was Governor. Thus ended this miserable campaign.

Hull's officers were incensed at his action, and he was subsequently court-martialled, convicted of cowardice, and condemned to death; but the President pardoned him, in consideration of his age and his services in the Revolution. The points of his defence were: that an army in a situation like his, cut off from its supplies, must surrender sooner or later; that if he had given battle, it would have exposed all the inhabitants of the Territory to Indian barbarities; that his situation was the fault of the Administration, rather than his own; that his force was inferior to Brock's; and that his provisions were nearly exhausted. Benedict Arnold himself was hardly held in greater contempt by the American people than was General Hull for years after his trial. Many believed him to be more traitor than coward. This state of feeling was largely due to Colonel Lewis Cass—nearly forty years later a candidate for the Presidency—who hurried to Washington with the news, and greatly exaggerated the circumstances that bore against Hull. Cass's action in this matter was exceedingly discreditable. On one point, the important question of supplies, a letter written by him two days before the surrender was flatly contradicted by his testimony at the trial. Subsequent investigations, if they do not exonerate General Hull, have at least greatly modified the blame attached to him.

CHAPTER III. FIGHTS WITH THE INDIANS.

Tecumseh's Scheme—Harrison's March to Fort Wayne—Defence of Fort Harrison—Defence of Fort Madison—Ball's Fight.

The great Indian leader, Tecumseh, cherished a design similar to that of Pontiac in the previous century. He wanted to unite all the northwestern tribes in an effort to drive the white man out of the country, or at least out of the Northwestern Territory. For the prosecution of this design the disasters which the Americans had sustained in the fall of Michilimackinac, Fort Dearborn, and Detroit seemed an auspicious opening, and Tecumseh endeavored to follow it up promptly with attacks on the other frontier posts held by United States troops. The most important of these were Fort Wayne, on the present site of Fort Wayne, Indiana, and Fort Harrison, on the Wabash, above Terre Haute.

A force of Kentuckians had been gathered in August and placed under command of General William Henry Harrison, afterward President of the United States, destined for the reënforcement of Hull at Detroit. But after the news of his surrender, it was directed to the relief of Fort Wayne, to reach which required a long march through the wilderness of western Ohio. A journal kept by one of the soldiers on this march, Elias Darnell, is still extant. It contains many amusing and suggestive anecdotes. Under date of September 5th he says: "General Harrison, having paraded the remaining part of the army in a circle in close order, delivered a speech to them, stating that he had just received intelligence from Fort Wayne; that it was in great danger of being taken by the Indians and British; he said that we were under the necessity of making a forced march to their relief. He read some of the articles of war, and stated the absolute necessity of such regulations and restrictions in an army, and if there were any who could not feel willing to submit to those articles and go on with him, they might then return home. One man, belonging to Colonel Scott's regiment, made a choice of returning home, rather than submit to those terms. Some of his acquaintances got a permit to escort him part of the way home. Two of them got him upon a rail and carried him to the river; a crowd followed after; they ducked him several times in the water, and washed away all his patriotism." The danger from firearms in the hands of undisciplined volunteers is shown by these passages: "One of Captain McGowen's company was accidentally shot through the body by one of the sentinels." "A man was accidentally shot through the head by one of the mounted riflemen."

"One of the light horsemen wounded a man as he was feeding his horse, believing him to be an Indian." The privations of such an expedition are well illustrated by this: "We marched through some first-rate woodland, and through a prairie of the best quality. It is badly watered; the water in the wagon-ruts was the only drink we could get to cool our scorching thirst, and but very little of that." And the romantic incidents by this: "The tomb of a chief was discovered; it was built on the ground with timber and clay, so that no rain or air could enter. The chief was laid on his blanket, his head toward sunrise, his rifle by his side, his tin pan on his breast, with a spoon in it; he was ornamented in their style, with ear-rings, brooches, etc."

Fort Wayne, which was well provisioned and had a garrison of about seventy men, commanded by Captain Rhea, was besieged by the Indians for two weeks. A portion of General Harmar's expedition had been defeated by the savages on this spot twenty-two years before. The fort now had four small field-pieces, and was otherwise well equipped. The Indians at first professed to be friendly, and tried by all means to surprise the garrison. Then they mounted logs to look like siege guns. But the wary Captain Rhea was not to be deceived, and on the approach of Harrison's expedition, September 12th, the besiegers decamped. Their villages and cornfields in the neighborhood were destroyed.

Fort Harrison was less fortunate than Fort Wayne. It was commanded by Captain Zachary Taylor, who was afterward President of the United States. His force was very small, and had been reduced by sickness to about fifteen effective men. On the 3d of September two young settlers were killed and scalped near the fort by Indians. The next day thirty or forty of the savages appeared with a white flag, asked for admission to the fort, and wanted something to eat. Taylor had been warned to expect an attack, was on his guard, and refused to open the gates. Near midnight a block-house which formed part of the outer line of fortifications was found to be on fire. The crowd of savages outside was now swelled to several hundreds, and what with their horrible yelling and the cries of nine women and children inside the fort, and the rapidly spreading flames, the little garrison was thrown into considerable confusion. The destruction of the block-house would open a gap through which the Indians would quickly pour in a swarm, and then woe to the little band of whites! But Captain Taylor never lost his coolness for a moment. He ordered the part of the roof of the barracks which was nearest to the fire to be thrown down, and the end of the barracks kept wet. The invalids and convalescents manned the two bastions and the other blockhouse, and kept up a fire on the Indians, to protect the men who were at work on the roof. This fight against a double foe was kept up for eight hours; and the garrison not only prevented the fire from spreading, but erected a temporary breastwork to cover the gap made by the destruction of the blockhouse, and thus completely foiled the Indians, who disappeared next day, driving off as many as possible of the cattle belonging to the neighboring farmers. Of the garrison, two men were killed and two wounded. For this skilful and gallant action, Taylor was made a major. A passage in his official report of the affair is interesting, not as having any bearing on the result, but because by detailing the experience of two individuals it gives us a vivid idea of the manner in which such contests were conducted. He says: "One man lost his life by being too anxious; he got into one of the galleys in the bastions, and fired over the pickets, and called out to his comrades that he had killed an Indian, and neglecting to stoop down, in an instant he was shot dead. One of the men that jumped the pickets returned an hour before day, and, running up toward the gate, begged for God's sake for it to be opened. I suspected it to be a stratagem of the Indians to get in, as I did not recollect the voice; I directed the men in the bastion, where I happened to be, to shoot him, let him be who he would; and one of them fired at him, but fortunately he ran up to the other bastion, where they knew his voice, and Dr. Clark directed him to lie down close to the pickets, behind an empty barrel that happened to be there, and at daylight I had him let in. His arm was broke in a most shocking manner, which he says was done by the Indians—which I suppose was the cause of his returning. The other they caught about one hundred and thirty yards from the garrison, and cut him all to pieces."

Fort Madison, which had been built in an exposed and badly chosen situation on the bank of the Mississippi, near the site of St. Louis, was attacked on the 5th of September by more than two hundred Indians, Winnebagos. They approached stealthily, caught one of the garrison outside of the fort, and shot and scalped him within sight of his comrades on the walls. Firing was kept up on both sides for two days, but with little effect. On the 7th the savages displayed on poles the head and heart of the man they had killed, and later in the day tried to destroy the buildings by shooting upon the roofs arrows to which they had tied combustible matter and set it on fire. As at Fort Harrison, the appearance of fire created a panic among the men; but the commander, Lieutenant Hamilton, was equal to the occasion. He ordered eight old gun-barrels to be made into syringes, and small holes to be broken through the roof from the inside. Thrusting up the syringes through these holes, the men were able in a few minutes to make the roof as wet as if a heavy shower had fallen, which completely baffled the design of the enemy. On the 8th the Indians took possession of an old stable near the fort, and renewed the fight; but a few cannon-shot were sent crashing through the stable, while the gun-barrel syringes did duty as before, and the savages then withdrew.

Besides these actions at the forts, there were numerous encounters between small parties of white men and Indians, in which often great skill and courage were displayed. One of the most noteworthy was Colonel Ball's fight. That officer was descending the bank of Sandusky River with twenty-two mounted men, when a party of Indians about equal to their own numbers fired upon them from ambush. Ball and his men charged into the ambuscade, drove out the savages, and killed the chiefs. Ball was dismounted, and struggling with a gigantic chief, when one of his men came up and shot the Indian. The remaining Indians then became furious, and gave the signal for no quarter. Ball's men understood the situation, and fought without flinching, till they had killed every one of their antagonists. This affair had a wholesome effect upon the Indians of that region, and for some time the settlers were unmolested.

CHAPTER IV. THE 'BATTLE OF QUEENSTOWN.

Fight at Gananoqui—Expedition against Ogdensburg—Elliott captures two War-vessels—Gathering of Forces on the Niagara—Battle of Queenstown—Death of General Brock.

Hull's surrender by no means put an end to the design of invading Canada, but neither did it have any effect in changing the vicious plan of striking the enemy on the wrong flank.

In the night of September 20th, Captain Benjamin Forsyth embarked at Cape Vincent, New York, with about a hundred men, and in the morning landed near the village of Gananoqui, Canada. Here an engagement took place with about an equal number of British troops—regulars and militia—at the close of which the enemy fled, leaving ten men dead on the field and several wounded and prisoners. Captain Forsyth then burned the military storehouse—which was the object of his expedition—paroled the captured militia, and returned to the American shore with a few regulars as prisoners of war and a considerable quantity of arms and ammunition. One man of his party had been killed. In retaliation, the Canadians fitted out a much more formidable expedition against Ogdensburg. It consisted of about seven hundred and fifty men, who on the 2d of October embarked in forty boats, and under the escort of two gunboats moved up the St. Lawrence. At the same time, the British batteries at Prescott, opposite Ogdensburg, opened fire on that place, which was returned by an American battery. The next day was spent in preparations, and in the forenoon of Sunday, the 4th, the final embarkation was made from Prescott, in twenty-five boats and the two gunboats. As a blind, they proceeded up the river past Ogdensburg for some distance. Then suddenly they turned about and bore down upon that place, while at the same instant the British batteries reopened fire on the village. The American battery, together with a company of riflemen, all under command of General Jacob Brown, reserved fire till the flotilla was within point-blank range, and then opened all at once, the fire was returned, and kept up steadily for an hour. Two of the boats were so damaged that they had to be abandoned, and another, with its crew, was captured. The expedition then returned to Prescott without having effected a landing on American soil.

In the surrender of Detroit was included the brig-of-war Adams, which left the Americans with no naval force whatever on the upper lakes. Lieutenant Jesse D. Elliott, of the navy, was sent to Buffalo to organize a flotilla, and soon after a detachment of sailors to man it was ordered thither from New York. In October the Adams, which the British had renamed Detroit, and a smaller vessel, the Caledonia, which had taken part in the capture of Michilimackinac, came down Lake Erie, and cast anchor near Fort Erie. Elliott formed a plan for their capture, and with a force of fifty sailors and fifty soldiers embarked in boats at midnight of the 8th. They rowed silently across the river, and before they were discovered leaped upon the decks of the vessels, secured the crews, weighed anchor, and headed for the American shore. As the wind was too light to carry them up stream, they were obliged to run down past the British batteries. The Caledonia, which had a valuable cargo of furs, was run ashore at Black Rock and secured. The Detroit fought the enemy's batteries while unsuccessful efforts were made to tow her beyond their reach. Finally she drifted ashore at Squaw Island, where her captors abandoned her, taking away their prisoners. A party of British soldiers subsequently boarded her, but were driven off by fire from a battery. In the course of the day she underwent a heavy fire from both sides, and in the evening a British party were preparing to recover her, when they were anticipated by an American party who boarded her and set her on fire. For this exploit, in which half a dozen of his men were killed, Congress gave Lieutenant Elliott a vote of thanks and a sword.

These comparatively trifling incidents of border war were succeeded by one much more serious, though not more effective. In the summer General Dearborn had entered into an armistice with Sir George Prevost, the British commander in Canada, which set free the enemy's troops on the Niagara frontier, who were promptly moved against Hull at Detroit. That campaign being finished, a large part of them was drawn back to the line of the Niagara, and when in the autumn a movement in that quarter was contemplated by the Americans, they were confronted by a considerable force at every point where a crossing was possible, while General Brock, the victor of Detroit, was on the ground, commanding the whole, and ready to concentrate them at any point that might be attacked. He expected the crossing to take place at the mouth of the river.

General Stephen Van Rensselaer, commanding all the forces on the American side of the Niagara, determined to cross from Lewiston, at the foot of the rapids, seven miles below the great Falls, and seize Queenstown. The importance of the place arose from the fact that it was the terminus of the portage between Lake Ontario and the upper lakes. At this point the high ground through which the great Chasm of the river below the Falls has been cut slopes down to a lower plateau, on which stands the village of Queenstown.

The British had one piece of artillery on the Heights, south of the village, and another on the bank of the river a mile below. It was believed by many that General Van Rensselaer, who had been a prominent Federalist, was opposed to the war and purposely delayed moving against the enemy. Whether this was true or not, the discontent with his tardiness was so loudly expressed and had begun so to demoralize his troops, that at last he acknowledged himself compelled by it to move. He had minute information as to the situation and strength of each post of the enemy on the western bank of the river, and could choose his own point for crossing. He had about six thousand troops under his command—regulars, volunteers, and militia. The immediate command of the attacking force was assigned to his cousin, Lieutenant-Colonel Solomon Van Rensselaer, which occasioned serious dissatisfaction, because he was only an officer of New York militia, while some of the officers who had been ordered to join the expedition were commissioned in the United States regular army, and therefore ranked him.

Thirteen large boats, capable of carrying 340 men, with their equipments, were brought on wagons and launched at Lewiston on the 10th of October, and arrangements were made for crossing before daylight the next morning.

That night a cold, northeast storm set in, and the troops, who were promptly brought to the rendezvous, stood shivering for hours in the rain and darkness, on the river-bank, waiting for the boats, which, did not come. At length day dawned, and the crossing had to be postponed. It afterward appeared that the boats had been intrusted to one Lieutenant Sims, who was said to have taken them up the river, far beyond the point at which they were wanted, and then abandoned the expedition. No sufficient motive has ever been assigned for this extraordinary conduct on the part of the lieutenant. It has been suggested that he was so incensed at seeing the command given to an officer of militia, that he was willing to destroy his own reputation, if he had any, for the sake of frustrating the movement.

Two days later the attempt was renewed. Three hundred regulars under Lieutenant-Colonel John Chrystie, and an equal number of militia under Colonel Van Rensselaer, were to cross the river before daybreak of the 13th, and storm the Heights of Queenstown, and the remainder of the troops to follow and reenforce them. Lieutenant-Colonel Winfield Scott arrived from Buffalo on the evening of the 12th, and asked leave to join the expedition, but was refused. Yet he placed a battery on Lewiston Heights, to protect the troops while they were crossing.

It was still cold and stormy when the embarkation took place. All the regulars and a few of the militia crossed, and ten of the boats returned for a second load. The other three boats, in one of which was Chrystie, had missed their way in going over.

A force of the enemy, under Captain Dennis, moved down promptly to resist the landing, and some of the Americans were killed or wounded before they stepped on shore. Captain John E. Wool, being the senior officer present, assumed the command, and quickly moved his troops up the bank, where they formed in line at the foot of the Heights. The enemy was reenforced almost at the same time, and attacked the Americans in front and on the right flank with artillery and musketry. Wool stood his ground, though he had no artillery, and a short but bloody fight ensued. Of the ten officers of regulars, two were killed, and four, including Wool himself, severely wounded. The left wing was composed of the militia. There the fighting was less severe, but Lieutenant-Colonel Van Rensselaer was so seriously wounded that he was obliged to withdraw from the contest and recross the river. The steady and well-directed fire of Wool's men drove the enemy's left wing back into the village; but his right wing, stationed on the Heights, was unmoved. Annoyed by the fire from that quarter, the Americans fell back to the river-bank to re-form, and were soon reenforced by another company of regulars.

Receiving leave, rather than orders, from Van Rensselaer to capture the Heights, Wool placed the fresh troops on his right, and set out upon the task, while Lieutenant Lush followed in rear of the column, with orders to shoot down any man who faltered. Wool first moved his command southward along the water's edge, the bank sheltering them from the sight of the enemy, and then at the point where the gorge of the river made a sharp edge, as it were, to the Heights began the ascent, still out of sight of the battery-men. In many places the pathway was so steep and rugged that the soldiers had to use their muskets like alpenstocks, and climb by seizing the bushes, and "boost" one another. Wool was foremost in the scramble, and near the top found a fisherman's path which led to the plateau, and had been left unguarded because it was supposed to be impassable. By this path they gained the Summit, and silently filed out upon the plain to the rear and right of the British battery.

Meanwhile General Brock, hearing the sounds of battle, had ridden up rapidly from Fort George at the mouth of the river, and now stood near this battery, watching the operations below. A sudden volley of musketry in the rear startled him, and the appearance of Wool's column rushing down upon the battery caused him to retreat down the slope without waiting to mount his horse, followed by his staff and the artillerymen, and their entire infantry support. When the sun rose, a few minutes later, it shone upon the American flag floating over the captured works.

Brock sent orders to General Sheaffe at Fort George to bring up reënforcements, and at the same time to open an artillery fire on Fort Niagara, on the opposite bank; for the British commander had been all the while of opinion that the movement on Queenstown was but a feint, and that the real attack would be made at the mouth of the river. Without waiting for the reënforcements. Brock placed himself at the head of the troops that had just been driven from the Heights, and the troops in the village, and attempted to recapture the lost position. As the assaulting force moved up the slope, it bore to the west, to envelop the left flank of the Americans. Wool sent a detachment to check this movement; but his men were too few, and his whole command was forced back till it stood with a powerful enemy in front and a precipice behind it. At this point of time, a captain raised a white handkerchief on the point of a bayonet; but in an instant Wool tore it down with his own hands, and then, addressing a few inspiriting words to his men, he persuaded them to re-form their somewhat broken ranks, and keep up a steady and effective fire. When their ammunition was nearly exhausted, they made a gallant bayonet charge which drove the enemy down the slope.

Brock rallied his troops for another assault, received a few reënforcements, and was just setting the column in motion when a bullet struck his breast and he fell mortally wounded. His troops, now under command of Lieutenant-Colonel McDonell, rushed forward with the cry of "Revenge the General!" but to no purpose. Wool's little band stood firm, and drove back the enemy once more with serious loss, McDonell being mortally wounded, and the two officers next in command disabled, while ten men and an Indian Chief remained with the Americans as prisoners. The troops who had accomplished this gallant feat were recruits who had never seen service before, and their leader, now but twenty-three years of age, had not received a military education, but was a bookseller and then a law-student, until commissioned as a captain.

About ten o'clock reënforcements were sent over to Wool, and Lieutenant-Colonels Winfield Scott and John Chrystie, and General William Wadsworth, soon followed them. The last-named officer, who was in plain clothes, modestly made known his rank, but insisted that the command should be assumed by Scott, whom he heartily and efficiently supported. * Wool was now, from loss of blood, obliged to withdraw from the field. Scott had about six hundred men—three hundred and fifty regulars and two hundred and fifty militia. He placed them in position to repel any attack of the enemy, and at the same time to cover the crossing of the remaining militia, which was to be sent over to him at once.

All this time General Roger H. Sheaffe was hurrying up from Fort George with troops, in obedience to the orders sent to him by Brock in the morning. He arrived on the field, and was ready for action

* He was uncle of General James S. Wadsworth, who was killed in the battle of the Wilderness in 1864.

about two o'clock. His entire force consisted of about thirteen hundred soldiers and five hundred Indians.

The militia on the American shore could overlook the field of battle, and saw the approach of Sheaffe. But when General Van Rensselaer attempted to move them across the river to the support of their victorious but hard-pressed countrymen, they refused to stir. The law provides that militia shall not be compelled to serve beyond the bounds of the State against their will; the men fell back upon this privilege, and all entreaty was in vain. This action—or non-action—on the part of the militia has subjected them to severe censure, and has uniformly been attributed to pure cowardice. But while it was probably not altogether justifiable, there were some circumstances, not generally mentioned, which partially excuse it. For instance, they knew that, through gross mismanagement, all the boats, except one small scow, had been allowed to float off down the current or be captured by the enemy; and hence if they crossed it must be by a small boatload at a time, instead of in a body.

In spite of this disappointment, Scott resolved to make the best fight he could with what troops he had. The first attack was made on his left flank by the Indians, who were commanded by John Brant, a son of the Joseph Brant of Revolutionary fame. This attack Scott repelled with gallant bayonet charges; but when about four o'clock Sheaffe moved up his whole force, and doubled back the right flank, the Americans were obliged to retreat. A few let themselves down the precipice, clambering from ledge to ledge and bush bush to bush, but when they reached the water's edge there were no boats to receive them. The greater part retreated a short distance along the road leading from Queenstown to the Falls; but seeing escape was impossible, they surrendered in a body. To do this, they had to send a flag of trace through the line of Indians, and it was three times fired upon before it finally reached the British commander. The last time it was borne by Scott in person.

So fended the battle of Queenstown, which was a very remarkable action, and with better management might have had a different termination. General Van Rensselaer, in his official despatches, labored to create the impression that the refusal of the militia to cross the stream was the whole cause of the final disaster, and at the same time he studiously avoided mentioning the names of the officers—Wool and Scott—to whom was due the credit for all the successes and glory of the day.

The Americans, in this series of engagements, lost about ninety men killed, a hundred wounded, and nearly a thousand taken prisoners. The British loss has never been determined. The American prisoners were sent to Quebec, where twenty-three Irishmen were separated from the others and sent to England to be tried for treason, on the ground that they were British subjects and had been fighting against their own flag. As soon as the American authorities had an equal number of prisoners in their possession they placed them in close confinement, and gave notice that their fate would be determined by that of the twenty-three Irishmen. People who know nothing of historical experience in such matters always cry out against any proposal of retaliation, arguing that it will simply result in the murder of all the prisoners on both sides. As a matter of fact, when retaliation is promptly and firmly threatened for violation of the laws of war, it always has the effect of stopping the outrage. And so it proved in this case; for twenty-one of the captured Irishmen lived to return to their adopted country. The other two died in prison.

During the funeral of General Brock, minute guns were fired by the Americans on the eastern bank of the river, "as a mark of respect to a brave enemy." There was perhaps no harm in this little bit of sentiment, though if the Americans remembered that two months before, in demanding the surrender of Detroit, General Brock had threatened to let loose a horde of savages upon the garrison and town, if he were compelled to capture it by force, they must have seen that their minute guns were supremely illogical, not to say silly. Brownell, in one of his best poems, expresses the true sentiment for such a case:

"The Muse would weep for the brave,

But how shall she chant the wrong?

When, for the wrongs that were,

Hath she lilted a single stave?

Know, proud hearts, that, with her,

'Tis not enough to be brave."

CHAPTER V. WAR ON THE OCEAN.

The President and the Little Belt—The President and the Belvidera—Hull's Race—The Constitution and the Guerriere—Effect of the Victory—The Wasp and the Frolic—The United States and the Macedonian—The Constitution and the Java—Nelson's Prediction.

While the year 1812 brought nothing but disaster to the land forces of the United States, on the ocean it was fruitful of victories that astonished the world. It is greatly to the credit of President Madison that he followed the advice of Captains Stewart and Bainbridge, in opposition to his entire Cabinet, to develop and use the navy, instead of laying it up. That was not only the wise but the appropriate thing to do. This was pre-eminently a sailors' war, entered upon chiefly for the purpose of protecting American seamen from impressment in a foreign service, and its ultimate result would be a settlement of the question whether American ships were to be at liberty to sail the high seas at all, or whether, as a poet of our day puts it, the Atlantic Ocean was to be considered merely John Bull's back yard. It was the wise thing to do, because, if a nation determines to go to war at all, it should do it in earnest; and the most effective war is made when the earliest and most persistent blows are directed at the enemy's vital part. Of all Great Britain's possessions that could be reached by balls or bayonets, her ships at sea were the most important to her. Canada might be overrun, or even conquered, and she would hardly feel its loss—or at least she could exist without it; but anything that weakened her navy and deranged her commerce would make every Englishman feel the penalties of war.

A slight foretaste of what American seamanship and gunnery might do had been afforded by an affair that took place a year before the war broke out. The American frigate President, of forty-four guns, with Commodore John Rodgers on board, was cruising off Sandy Hook in May, 1811, searching for an English frigate that had taken a sailor from an American brig, when she sighted a strange craft. In answer to her hail, the stranger fired a shotted gun, and the shot struck the mainmast. The President promptly returned the fire, and in a few minutes broadsides and musketry blazed out from both vessels. As soon as Rodgers perceived the inferiority of his antagonist, he ordered his gunners to cease firing; but no sooner were his guns silent than the stranger opened again. With another broadside or two the President completely crippled her, and then hailed and got an answer. As darkness now came on, Rodgers lay to for the night, keeping lights displayed, in case the stranger should need assistance. In the morning he sent an officer on board, who learned that she was the British ship Little Belt; that she was badly damaged, and had lost thirty-one men killed or wounded. But she declined receiving any assistance. On board the President one boy had been slightly wounded. Each vessel sailed for home, and each commander told his own story, the two accounts being widely different. The version here given is that of the American officers. According to the English captain, the President began the action by firing a broadside into the unoffending Little Belt. Each government accepted the statement of its own officers, and there the matter rested.

It was this same vessel, the President, that fought the first action of the war. With news of the declaration came orders to Commodore Rodgers, then in New York, to sail on a cruise against the enemy. Within one hour he was ready. The Hornet, of eighteen guns, Captain Lawrence, was ready at the same time, and the Essex, of thirty-two guns, Captain Porter, a few hours later.

Information had been received that a large fleet of English merchantmen had left Jamaica, under a strong convoy, for England, and on the 21st of June, Rodgers left the port of New York with his squadron, in search of them. He did not find them; but on the morning of the 23d a sail appeared in sight, which proved to be the British frigate Belvidera, and the President gave chase. About four o'clock in the afternoon the vessels were within gunshot, and Rodgers opened fire with his bow-guns, sighting and discharging the first one himself. The ball struck the rudder-coat of the Belvidera, and passed into the gun-room. The next shot struck the muzzle of one of her stern-chasers. The third killed two men and wounded five. At the fourth shot the gun burst, blowing up the forecastle deck, on which Rodgers was standing, and hurling him into the air. The explosion also killed or wounded sixteen men. This caused a lull in the action, and the Belvidera's men went back to their guns and returned the fire with considerable effect. The President soon began to forge ahead, when the Belvidera cut loose her anchors, stove her boats and threw them overboard, started fourteen tons of water, and thus lightened, managed to escape, and a few days afterward made the port of Halifax. The total loss of the President, killed and wounded, in this action, was twenty-two; that of the Belvidera, about half as many. An English privateer was captured by the Hornet on the 9th of July, and subsequently seven merchantmen, and an American vessel that had been captured by the enemy was retaken.

When the Belvidera carried into Halifax the news of the declaration of war, and that the American cruisers were out, a squadron of five vessels, under Captain Vere Broke in the Shannon, was sent out to destroy Rodgers. They did not find him, but they captured several American merchantmen off the port of New York, and also took, after a smart chase, the little brig-of-war Nautilus.

The Essex, which had left port a little later than the President and Hornet, took several prizes, one of them being a transport filled with soldiers. She was chased by the Alert, of twenty guns, and fired upon. The Essex was armed with carronades, guns not intended for work at long distances. Waiting till the enemy had come pretty near, she suddenly opened her broadside, and in eight minutes the Alert struck her colors.

The great war-game on the ocean began in earnest when Captain Isaac Hull sailed from the Chesapeake in July, in the Constitution, a frigate of forty-four guns. On the 17th he came in sight of five vessels, which proved to be Broke's squadron, and the next day he was surrounded by them. As the wind was very light, he resorted to "kedging" to keep out of reach of them. This consisted in sending a boat ahead for perhaps half a mile, with a kedge anchor and lines. The kedge was then dropped, and the lines carried back to the ship. These being fastened to the windlass, the crew, by turning it and winding them up, pulled the vessel up to the anchor. While this was being done, the boat was going ahead with another kedge and lines, to repeat the operation and make it continuous. The flagship of the British squadron was pretty close in chase when the American frigate was thus seen to be walking away from it. The enemy soon found out how the mysterious movement was made, and resorted to the same expedient. But it was not possible to approach very near by this means, as it would have brought his boat under the fire of the American's stern-guns. Captain Hull had cut away some of the woodwork and run two twenty-four pounders out at his cabin windows, and also mounted a long gun on his spar deck as a stern-chaser. Whenever there was a little wind, every vessel set every stitch of canvas she could carry, and all the nicest arts of seamanship were resorted to to gain the slightest advantage. Eleven ships were in sight most of the time, all participating in the contest. An American merchantman appeared to windward, and the British vessels, not wishing to leave the chase, displayed an American ensign to decoy her within reach of their guns. Thereupon the Constitution hoisted an English flag, to warn her off. This exciting race was kept up for three days. In the evening of the second day, it was evident that a heavy squall was coming up. Just before it struck the Constitution, all the light canvas was furled, and the ship was brought under short sail in a few minutes. When the pursuing vessels observed this, they began at once to let go and haul down without waiting for the wind. Presently the squall came, and with it a rainstorm that hid the vessels from one another. As soon as this happened, the Constitution sheeted home and hoisted her fore and main topgallant sails, and while her pursuers were steering in different directions to avoid the force of the squall, and believed her to be borne down by the pressure of the wind, she was sailing straight away from them at the rate of eleven knots an hour. When the squall was over, the nearest vessel of the British squadron was seen to be a long way astern, and to have fallen off two points to leeward, while the slowest ones were so far behind as to be almost out of sight. The chase was kept up during the night, but in the morning was found to be so hopeless that it was abandoned.

This contest, though a mere race, attended with no fighting, no damage of any kind, and only a negative result, is famous in the annals of the ocean. It was a fine instance of that superior seamanship which stood the American sailor in good stead throughout the war, and contributed quite as much as his valor to the brilliant victories that rendered Great Britain no longer the mistress of the seas.

Hull made sail for Boston, and after a short stay in that port sailed again on the 2d of August. He cruised along eastward as far as the Gulf of St. Lawrence, where he captured and burned two small prizes, and then stood southward. In the afternoon of the 19th a sail was descried from the masthead, and the Constitution at once gave chase. Within an hour and a half she was near enough to the stranger to see that she was a frigate; and a little later she laid her maintopsail aback and waited for the Constitution, evidently anxious for a contest.

Hull immediately put his vessel in complete trim for a fight, cleared for action, and beat to quarters. At five o'clock the English frigate, which proved to be the Guerriere, of thirty-eight guns, Captain Dacres, hoisted three ensigns and opened fire. The Constitution approached cautiously, so as to avoid being raked, firing occasionally, but reserving most of her guns for close action.

After an hour of this, the Guerriere indicated her readiness for a square fight, yard-arm to yard-arm, and the Constitution set her sails to draw alongside. The fire from both ships became gradually heavier, and in ten minutes the mizzen-mast of the Guerriere was shot away. The Constitution then passed slowly ahead, keeping up a constant fire, her guns being double shotted with grape and round shot, and attempted to get a position across the bows of the enemy and rake her. But in trying to avoid being herself raked while gaining this position, she luffed short, and fell foul of her enemy. At this moment the cabin of the Constitution took fire from the flash of the Guerriere's guns, and for a while it looked as if she would fare hardly. But by the energy and skill of Lieutenant B. V. Hoffman, who commanded in the cabin, the fire was extinguished, confusion prevented, and a gun of the Guerriere that might have repeated the mischief disabled.

The instant the vessels came together, each attempted to board the other; but a close and deadly fire of musketry prevented. On the American side, Lieutenant Morris, Master Alwyn, and Mr. Bush, Lieutenant of Marines, sprang to the taffrail to lead their men, when they were all shot down. Finding it impossible to board, the Constitution filled her sails and shot ahead, and a moment later the Guerriere's foremast fell, and carried the mainmast, with it. This reduced her to a wreck, and as a heavy sea was on she was helpless. The Constitution hauled off a short distance, repaired damages, and at seven o'clock wore round and took a position for raking. An ensign that had been hoisted on the stump of the mizzen-mast was at once hauled down in token of surrender, and the prize was won. A lieutenant sent on board returned with the news that she was one of the squadron that had so lately chased the Constitution.

The victor kept near her prize through the night, and at daylight the officer in charge reported that the Guerriere had four feet of water in the hold and was in danger of sinking. Captain Hull therefore transferred the prisoners to his own vessel, recalled the prize crew, and set the wreck on fire. In fifteen minutes the flames reached the magazine, and the hulk that still remained of the proud English frigate was blown to pieces.

In this battle the Constitution lost seven men killed and seven wounded. Her rigging suffered considerably, but her hull was only very slightly damaged. The Guerriere lost seventy-nine men killed or wounded. The location of this battle may be found by drawing a line directly east from the point of Cape Cod, and another directly south from Cape Race; the point of intersection will be very near the battle-ground. It is a little south of the track of steamers between New York and Liverpool.

The news of this victory was a startling revelation, on both sides of the Atlantic. In expressing their contempt for the American navy, the English journals had especially ridiculed the Constitution, as "a bunch of pine boards, under a bit of striped bunting." This bunch of boards had now outsailed a squadron of eleven British war-vessels, and in a fight of half an hour had reduced one of their frigates to a wreck and made her strike her colors. It was true that the American ship was slightly superior in number of men and guns; but this would not account for the superiority of seamanship, the better gun-practice, and the enormous difference in losses. Captain Dacres, who was afterward put on trial for losing his ship, asserted that he had sent away a considerable number of his men in prizes; that he had several Americans in his crew who refused to fight against their countrymen, and that he permitted them to go below. But all allowances that could be made did not change the essential character of the victory. Only a short time before, the London Courier had said, "There is not a frigate in the American navy able to cope with the Guerriere."

Captain Hull, who was now in his thirty-eighth year, had entered the navy at the age of twentythree, and had gained distinction in the war with Tripoli. When he landed in Boston with his prisoners, nearly the whole population of the town turned out to greet him. Flags and streamers were displayed on every hand, decorated arches spanned the streets, and a banquet was spread for him and his crew. He made a sort of triumphal progress to New York and Philadelphia, where similar honors were paid him, and handsome swords and snuffboxes presented to him. Congress voted him a gold medal, to each of his commissioned officers a silver medal, and fifty thousand dollars to the crew as prize money.

In his official report the Captain said: "It gives me great pleasure to say that, from the smallest boy in the ship to the oldest seaman, not a look of fear was seen. They all went into action giving three cheers, and requesting to be laid close alongside the enemy." The London Times said: "It is not merely that an English frigate has been taken, after what we are free to confess may be called a brave resistance, but that it has been taken by a new enemy, an enemy unaccustomed to such triumphs, and likely to be rendered insolent and confident by them. He must be a weak politician who does not see how important the first triumph is, in giving a tone and character to the war. Never before in the history of the world did an English frigate strike to an American; and though we cannot say that Captain Dacres, under all circumstances, is punishable for this act, yet we do say there are commanders in the English navy who would a thousand times have rather gone down with their colors flying than have set their brother officers so fatal an example."

The next naval contest, in the order of time, was that of the Wasp and the Frolic, one of the bloodiest of the war. The Wasp, an American sloop-of-war, of eighteen guns, commanded by Captain Jacob Jones, was a very fast sailer, and had gone to Europe with despatches, when the war broke out. On her return she was refitted with all haste and sent out on a cruise. In the night of October 17th, about five hundred miles off Cape Hatteras, she sighted a fleet of six English merchantmen under convoy of the Frolic, a brig, of twenty-two guns, Captain Whinyates. Four of the merchantmen were armed.

The next morning, the sea being somewhat rough, the Wasp was put under short canvas and got into fighting trim, and then bore down upon the Frolic, which kept herself between her convoy and the enemy. She also was under short canvas, and her main-yard was on deck. About half past eleven o'clock the Wasp came up close on the starboard side of the Frolic, and broadsides were exchanged at the distance of only sixty yards. The fire of the Englishman was the more rapid, but that of the American was the more deliberate and effective. In a little over four minutes the Wasp's maintopmast was shot off and with the maintopsail-yard fell across the braces, rendering the head-yards unmanageable. A few minutes later her gaff and mizzen-topgallant-mast were shot down; and before the action was over, every brace and most of the rigging was carried away. The shot of the Wasp was directed mainly at her enemy's hull, and the firing on both sides was kept up with great spirit, little or no attempt being made to manoeuvre, and the vessels gradually approaching each other. At last they were so near that the American gunners touched the side of the Frolic with their rammers, her bowsprit passed over the Wasp's quarterdeck, and the latter was brought directly across the Englishman's bows, in position for raking. Captain Jones ordered a broadside; and when it was fired, the muzzles of two of the guns were actually in the bow ports of the Frolic, and the discharge swept her from stem to stern.

As no sign of submission had come from the enemy, Captain Jones was about to repeat the raking, but was prevented by the impetuosity of his crew. A sailor named John Lang, who had once been impressed on a British man-of-war, hot for revenge, sprang upon the bowsprit of the Frolic, cutlass in hand, and was followed by Lieutenant Biddle and an impromptu boarding-party. They met no opposition. Two or three officers, wounded and bleeding, were standing on the after-part of the deck; there was a cool-headed old seaman at the wheel; and dead and wounded sailors were lying about in all directions. The officers threw down their swords, and Lieutenant Biddle sprang into the rigging and hauled down the British flag. The battle had lasted forty-three minutes. On board the Wasp, five men had been killed and five wounded. The loss on the Frolic has never been ascertained, it was at least seventy-five. Captain Whinyates, in his official report, said that not twenty of his men escaped injury.

The two vessels were separated, and in a few minutes both masts of the Frolic fell. Arrangements were made for sending her into Charleston with a prize crew, while the Wasp should repair damages and continue her cruise. But before this plan could even be fairly entered upon, the British ship-of-the-line Poictiers, carrying seventy-four guns, hove in sight, and speedily made prize of both vessels and took them to Bermuda.

On the same day when this action took place. Commodore Stephen Decatur, cruising in the frigate United States, captured the British packet Swallow, which had on board a large quantity of specie. He continued his cruise eastward, and only a week later (October 25th), at a point about midway between the Azores and the Cape Verd Islands, sighted a large vessel to windward, which proved to be the English frigate Macedonian, carrying forty-nine guns, Captain Carden. She was somewhat smaller than the United States, and had fewer men. Decatur made up to the stranger; but she had the advantage of the wind, and for some time managed to keep out of reach. At length, after considerable manoeuvring, the distance was shortened, and both vessels opened fire with their long guns. The gunnery of the American was superior, and while sustaining little injury herself she inflicted serious damage upon her antagonist. At the end of half an hour, the distance had been still more diminished, so that the carronades were brought into use. A carronade is a short gun, throwing a comparatively large ball with not very great velocity. The size of the ball and its slower motion cause it to splinter and tear a ragged hole in the side of a ship, where a smaller shot with a greater velocity would pass through and make a smooth round hole, which could easily be plugged up again. As the Macedonian became disabled, she fell off to leeward, while the United States passed ahead and to windward, and then tacked and came up under her lee. The firing, which had been entirely with artillery, now ceased on both sides. The Macedonian's mizzen-mast was gone, her main and foretopmasts carried away, her main-yard cut in two, and her ensign had disappeared. The United States hailed her, and was answered that she had struck her colors. She had received a hundred shot in her hull, most of them in the waist. She went into the action with three hundred men, of whom she lost thirty-six killed and sixty-eight wounded. On board were seven impressed American sailors, two of whom were killed. On the United States five men were killed and seven wounded. Her rigging was considerably cut, but otherwise she received very little injury.

Decatur took his prize to New York, going in by way of Long Island Sound, where he arrived on New Year's day, 1813. He was received with a great ovation, and there were banquets, orations; and public rejoicings unlimited. Congress, following the precedent set in the case of Hull, voted a gold medal to the commander, and a silver one to each of his commissioned officers.

A member of the British Parliament, making a speech concerning this affair, said he "lamented that, with the navy of Great Britain against that of America, which consisted of only four frigates and two sloops, two of our finest frigates were now in their possession, captured by only two of theirs. This was a reverse which English officers and English sailors had not before been used to, and from such a contemptible navy as that of America had always been held, no one could suppose such an event could have taken place."

And the London Independent Whig was constrained to say: "A powerful and rival nation is now rapidly rising in the west, whose remonstrances we have hitherto derided, but whose resentment we shall soon be taught to feel; who for our follies or our crimes seems destined to retaliate on us the miseries we have inflicted on defenceless and oppressed states, to share with us the fertile products of the ocean, and snatch from our feeble and decrepit hands the imperial trident of the main."

But the cup of English humiliation was not yet full. The Americans had another able commander, with a stanch ship and a fearless crew, who now came in for his turn. This was Commodore William Bainbridge, who sailed from Boston late in October, on board the Constitution, the same vessel with which Hull had conquered the Guerriere. In company with her sailed the brig Hornet, of eighteen guns, commanded by Captain James Lawrence.

They cruised southward, and in December the Hornet was left at San Salvador, or Bahia, Brazil, to blockade an English brig that was on the point of sailing with a large amount of specie on board. Lawrence had sent in a challenge to fight the two brigs, on even terms, just outside the harbor, but the English captain declined.

The Constitution continued her cruise, and on the 29th, off the Brazilian coast, sighted the English frigate Java, carrying thirty-eight guns, Captain Lambert. Bainbridge tacked and drew the stranger off the land, which was not more than thirty miles distant, and when far enough away stood toward him. The enemy seemed quite as anxious for a contest, and about two o'clock it began. The firing was heavy and continuous. The Java had the advantage of the wind, and attempted to cross the Constitution's bow, to rake her. But the latter wore, and avoided it. This manoeuvre was repeated several times, and at length the Constitution, though her wheel had been shot away, making it difficult to manage the steering-gear, succeeded in getting the coveted position, and raked her antagonist.

The Java, which had been badly damaged, ran down Upon the Constitution with the intention of boarding. But her jibboom became entangled in the Constitution's mizzen-rigging, and she was held there and raked mercilessly. At this time her bowsprit and foremast were shot away.

The two vessels now separated, and after considerable manoeuvring came together again, yard-arm and yard-arm, and reopened their broadsides. Now the Java's mizzen-mast tumbled, and her main-mast was the only stick left standing. The Constitution then hauled off, and spent an hour in repairing damages, at the end of which time she wore round and stood across her antagonist's bow, when the English colors were struck.

The action had lasted an hour and fifty-five minutes. The Constitution had lost nine men killed and twenty-five wounded, Commodore Bainbridge being slightly wounded. The loss on board the Java was variously stated; the lowest estimate made it twenty-two killed and one hundred and one wounded. Bainbridge said that sixty were killed. Captain Lambert was mortally wounded. The whole number on board was four hundred, including General Hislop and his staff and other officers, who were on their way to the East Indies.

The Java was a complete wreck, and after a day or two it was determined to blow her up, which was done after all the prisoners and wounded had been carefully removed. She might have been towed into Bahia; but Brazil was friendly to Great Britain, and Bainbridge did not want to trust his prize in a Brazilian harbor. He, however, landed his prisoners there, and paroled them.

The Constitution—which received the name of "Old Ironsides," on account of escaping serious damage in this action—arrived at Boston in February. Here the same welcome that had been given to Hull and Decatur was extended to Bainbridge. The cities of New York and Albany gave him gold snuff-boxes, Philadelphia gave him a service of silver, and Congress voted the usual medals, with fifty thousand dollars of prize money for the crew.

In the first six months of the war, the little American navy, for which Congress had done nothing, and from which nothing had been expected, had six encounters with English cruisers, and in every one was victorious. These defeats were a sore trouble to English naval historians, who have ever since been laboring to explain them away. They have invented all sorts of ingenious theories to account for them; but it has never occurred to them to adopt the simple explanation that they were defeats, brought about by superior seamanship and gunnery, backed up by the consciousness of a just cause, on the part of the Americans. The favorite explanation has been, that the American so-called frigates were seventy-four-gun ships in disguise; that the English crews were all green hands, and their numbers were not full at that. A few years later, General Scott met at a dinner in London a young British naval officer, who superciliously inquired, "whether the Americans continued to build line-of-battle ships, and to call them frigates."

"We have borrowed a great many excellent things from the mother country," answered Scott, "and some that discredit both parties. Among the latter is the practice in question. Thus when you took from France the Guerrière, she mounted forty-nine guns, and you instantly rated her on your list a thirty-six-gun frigate; but when we captured her from you, we found on board the same number, forty-nine guns!"

During this same half year, nearly three hundred British merchantmen had been captured and brought into American ports. In this work the little navy had been assisted by a large number of privateers, which had sailed from our ports, under letters of marque, and had not only helped themselves to the rich spoils of British commerce, but had occasionally fought with armed cruisers.

These disasters were no more than had been predicted by Lord Nelson, the greatest of English admirals. After watching the evolutions of an American squadron commanded by Commodore Richard Dale, in the bay of Gibraltar, he is reported to have said to an American gentleman who was on board his flagship that "there was in those transatlantic ships a nucleus of trouble for the maritime power of Great Britain. We have nothing to fear from anything on this side of the Atlantic; but the manner in which those ships are handled makes me think that there may be a time when we shall have trouble from the other."

CHAPTER VI. MINOR BATTLES IN THE WEST.

Winchester's Expedition—Fight at Frenchtown—Massacre at the Raisin—Siege of Fort Meigs.

At the opening of the year 1813, General William Henry Harrison, who had won a high reputation by his victory over the Indians at Tippecanoe in 1811, being now in command of the forces in the West, endeavored to concentrate them for a movement against the British and savages at Detroit and Malden. An expedition composed mainly of Kentucky troops, under General James Winchester, was making its way northward through Ohio to join him; and Leslie Coombs, of Kentucky, accompanied by a single guide, went through the woods more than a hundred miles on foot to inform Harrison of their approach.

When Winchester's expedition reached the rapids of the Miami, he was met by messengers from the pioneers about the River Raisin, informing him that the enemy was organizing a movement against the settlements there, and imploring him to protect them. A detachment of six hundred and sixty men, under Colonels Lewis and Allen, was sent forward, and pushing on with the greatest possible rapidity, marching a part of the way over the frozen surface of Lake Erie, reached Frenchtown, on the Raisin, where Monroe, Michigan, now stands, on the 18th of January.

That place had been occupied a few days before by a hundred English and four hundred Indians, who now took the alarm and prepared to resist the advancing expedition. As he approached the village, Colonel Lewis formed his command in columns, and moved forward in the face of a heavy fire of musketry and artillery. The enemy was posted behind the houses and garden fences of the village, which stood on the north side of the river; and the Americans, who had no artillery, crossed over on the ice and at once made a charge. Finding themselves attacked vigorously in front and on the left flank at the same time, the British retreated about half a mile, and took a new position in the woods, where they were partly protected by fallen timber. Colonel Lewis sent a detachment to strike this position on its right flank; and as soon as he heard the firing there, Colonel Allen attacked it in front. The enemy retreated slowly, fighting at every step, and the Americans steadily pressed their advantage till dark, when they returned to the village and encamped. They had lost twelve men killed and fifty-five wounded. The loss of the enemy was not ascertained, but they left fifteen men dead on the field where the first engagement took place.

The news of this victory was sent at once to General Winchester, who came up promptly with a reënforcement of two hundred and fifty men. It was expected that the place would be attacked by a heavier British force from Malden, which was but eighteen miles distant, and preparations were made for constructing a fortified camp. But the enemy came before this could be completed. In the night of January 21st, Colonel Henry Proctor, with a force of about eleven hundred, British and savages, moved from Malden, and early in the morning of the 22d the American sentries were surprised. No pickets had been thrown out, and the troops were hardly brought into line when a heavy fire of artillery and small arms was opened, both in front and on the flanks, the yells of the savages being heard in the intervals of the discharges.

The attack in front was met and repelled by a steady fire, the Americans being considerably sheltered by the stout garden fences. On the right flank the attack was not so well resisted, and that wing was soon broken. It was rallied by Winchester, and reenforced by Lewis; but the enemy, seeing his advantage, followed it up, and the whole wing, reenforcements and all, was swept away, the remnant retreating in disorder across the river.

All efforts to rally the fugitives were vain, and in a little while the Indians overwhelmed the left wing also. The disorganized troops of this wing attempted to escape by a road that led to the rapids of the Raisin; but the savages were posted all along behind the fences, and shot down great numbers of them. They then took to the woods directly west of the village; but here also were savages lying in wait, and it is said that nearly a hundred were tomahawked and scalped before they had gone as many yards. One party of nearly twenty men surrendered, but all except the lieutenant in command were at once massacred by their treacherous captors. Another party of forty were overtaken after they had retreated three miles, and compelled to surrender, when more than half of them were murdered in cold blood. General Winchester and Colonel Lewis were captured by the Indians, but Proctor, with some difficulty, got them under his protection. Colonel Allen, after trying without success to rally his men, retreated alone nearly two miles, and there sat down on a log, being too much enfeebled by wounds to go farther. An Indian chief came up and demanded his surrender, promising protection; but almost immediately followed two others, who evidently intended to scalp him. Allen killed one of them with a single blow of his sword, and was immediately shot by the other.

Meanwhile the centre of the American line could not be dislodged from its position behind the fences. It was composed of Kentucky sharpshooters, and some idea of the havoc they made among the British regulars may be gained from the fact that out of sixteen men in charge of one gun thirteen were killed. Appalled at such losses, Proctor bethought him of a cheaper method than continued fighting. He represented to General Winchester, now a prisoner in his hands, that unless an immediate surrender were made, the result would be a complete massacre of the Americans. Winchester's fears were so wrought upon that he sent, by a flag of truce, orders to Major Madison to surrender. As he had no right to give orders of any kind while a prisoner in the hands of the enemy, Madison refused to obey, but offered to surrender on condition that safety and protection should be guaranteed to him and his men. When Proctor found he could not get the place in any other way without a great sacrifice of his troops, he agreed to the terms proposed, and the surrender took place.

But no sooner had the gallant little band become prisoners, than Proctor, like many other British officers of that day, forgot his promise, and the savages began to plunder the prisoners, unhindered by their English allies. Thereupon the Americans resumed their arms, and by a vigorous bayonet charge drove off the Indians.

The next day the British force started for Malden, taking with it all the prisoners who were able to march. The badly-wounded were left at French-town, with no guard but a British major and the interpreters. The injured men were taken into the houses, and attended by two American surgeons. On the morning of the 23d, about two hundred Indians who had accompanied Proctor as far as Stony Creek, and there had a carouse, returned to French-town, held a council, and resolved to kill all the prisoners who could not march away with them. They then proceeded at once to plunder the whole village, tomahawk the wounded men, and set fire to the houses. They perpetrated such outrages and cruelties that most of the historians have shrunk from detailing them. Many prisoners who managed to crawl out of the burning buildings were thrown back into the flames. A few of the strongest were marched off with the savages toward Malden; but as one by one they became exhausted, they were mercilessly tomahawked and scalped. These scalps were carried to the British headquarters, where the savages received the premium for them.

Of the American force engaged in this affair, three hundred and ninety-seven were killed, five hundred and thirty-seven were prisoners, and but thirty-three escaped. The British are said to have lost twenty-four killed and a hundred and fifty-eight wounded. The loss of the Indians is unknown.

After the disaster at the River Raisin, General Harrison concentrated his remaining troops—twelve hundred men—and built Fort Meigs, at the foot of the rapids of the Maumee. This work was on the right bank of the stream, on high ground, and enclosed about eight acres. There were several strong block-houses, and considerable artillery.

General Proctor, with a force of about one thousand British and twelve hundred Indians, and two gunboats, set out on an expedition against this post in April. He crossed the lake, ascended the river, and on the 28th landed about two miles below the fort, but on the opposite bank. Here he erected a battery, and subsequently he planted two others, above the fort but on the left bank, and one below and very near it on the right bank. The Indians, commanded by the famous Tecumseh, were landed on the right bank, to invest the fort in the rear. The batteries opened fire on the 1st of May, and kept it up steadily four days; but it had very little effect, owing largely to a traverse twelve feet high and twenty feet thick which the garrison had constructed while the batteries were being erected. Proctor on the third day demanded a surrender, with the usual threat of massacre.

Learning that General Green Clay was coming to him with a reënforcement of eleven hundred Kentuckians, Harrison had sent word to him to hurry forward as fast as possible. At midnight on the 4th of May, two officers and fifteen men from this force descended the river and entered the fort, with the news that Clay was but eighteen miles distant. Harrison sent orders to him to send eight hundred of his men across the river at a point a mile and a half above the fort, thence to march down the left bank and capture and destroy the enemy's batteries; the remaining three hundred to march down the right bank and fight their way through the Indians to the fort.

The detachment landed on the left bank, commanded by Colonel Dudley, moved silently down upon the British batteries, and then, raising a terrific yell, were upon them before the enemy could realize that he was attacked. The guns were spiked and their carriages destroyed; but instead of crossing to the fort at once, as Harrison's orders directed, the victors, flushed with their success, were drawn into a running fight with some Indians, and finally fell into an ambush, and all but about a hundred and fifty were either captured or killed. That number reached their boats and crossed.

The detachment on the right bank, under General Clay himself, had some difficulty in landing, and lost a few men in fighting its way through the Indians, but ultimately reached the fort. While these movements were going on, three hundred and fifty men of the garrison, under Colonel John Miller, made a sortie against the battery on the right bank, captured it, spiked the guns, and returned with forty-three prisoners.

When Clay's troops reached the fort, they were joined by another sallying party, and the combined force moved against the Indians, whom Tecumseh commanded in person, and drove them through the woods at the point of the bayonet. Tecumseh attempted to move a force of British and Indians upon their left flank and rear, to cut off their return to the fort, but this movement was frustrated by Harrison, who understood Indian warfare quite as well as the great chief himself.

Proctor's savage allies, disgusted at his want of success, now began to desert him, and he was obliged to raise the siege and retreat. This he did not do, however, without keeping up his reputation for treachery and cold-blooded cruelty. His prisoners were taken to old Fort Miami, a short distance down stream, where the savages were allowed to murder more than twenty of them. Captain Wood, an eye-witness, says: "The Indians were permitted to garnish the surrounding rampart, and to amuse themselves by loading and firing at the crowd, or at any particular individual. Those who preferred to inflict a still more cruel and savage death selected their victims, led them to the gateway, and there, under the eye of General Proctor, and in the presence of the whole British army, tomahawked and scalped them." It is said that the horrible work was stopped by Tecumseh, who, coming up when it was at its height, buried his hatchet in the head of a chief engaged in the massacre, crying: "For shame!—it is a disgrace to kill a defenceless prisoner!" "In this single act," says the witness who narrates it," Tecumseh displayed more humanity, magnanimity, and civilization than Proctor, with all his British associates in command, displayed through the whole war on the northwestern frontiers."

The total loss to the Americans in these actions was eighty-one men killed, two hundred and sixty-nine wounded, and four hundred and sixty-seven made prisoners. It is uncertain what the British loss was, but it was probably somewhat smaller than that of the Americans.

In July, Proctor and Tecumseh, with a combined English and savage force of about five thousand, returned to Fort Meigs and attempted to draw out the garrison by strategy; but Harrison was, as usual, too shrewd for them, and they turned their attention to Fort Stephenson. This was an oblong stockade fort, about a hundred yards long and fifty yards wide, with high pickets, surrounded by a deep ditch or moat. There was a strong block-house at each corner. It was on the Sandusky, where the town of Fremont, Ohio, now stands. The garrison consisted of one hundred and sixty men, commanded by Major George Croghan.

The British sailed around into Sandusky Bay, and up the river, while their savage allies marched overland and invested the fort in the rear, to prevent the approach of reënforcements. Harrison believed the fort to be untenable, and had sent orders to Croghan to abandon and destroy it; but these orders did not reach the Major till retreat had become impossible.

On the 1st of August Proctor sent in a flag of truce, and demanded an immediate surrender, accompanied with the usual threat that if it were refused the Indians would massacre the entire garrison as soon as the place was taken. The ensign who met the flag made answer that Major Croghan and his men had determined "to defend the fort, or be buried in it." Proctor opened fire from his gunboats and four guns which he had placed in battery on shore, and bombarded the fort continuously for two days and nights. As this fire was directed mainly against the northwest angle, Croghan expected the main attack to be made at that point, and prepared for it. Besides strengthening the walls with bags of sand and bags of flour, he placed his only gun, a six-pounder, where it would enfilade the ditch on that side, loaded it with a double charge of slugs, and masked it.

It was after sunset on the 3d when the storming parties approached. Two columns passed around the western side of the fort, to threaten the southern face, while a third, commanded by a Lieutenant-Colonel Short, approached the northwest angle. When it was within twenty yards, the Kentucky riflemen gave it a volley that thinned the ranks, but did not stop its progress. The Lieutenant-Colonel and a large number of his men scaled the outer line of pickets, and poured into the ditch. "Now, then," he shouted, "scale the pickets, and show the d——d Yankee rascals no quarter!"

The next moment, Croghan's single piece of artillery was unmasked and fired. It completely swept the ditch, cutting down nearly every soldier in it, while a volley of rifle-balls finished the bloody work. Lieutenant-Colonel Short, who was mortally wounded, immediately raised his handkerchief on the point of his sword, to ask for quarter.

Another column of red-coats attempted the task at which the first had so wofully failed, and the deadly performance of the howitzer and the rifles was repeated. The columns that approached the fort on the south were driven off by a single volley, and the battle was ended. In the night the British gathered up their dead and wounded, and the next morning they were seen to sail away, leaving behind a quantity of military stores. They acknowledged a loss of twenty-seven killed and seventy wounded; but it was probably much larger. One American was killed, and seven wounded.

CHAPTER VII. WAR ON THE LAKES.

The Armaments—Preliminary Operations—Expedition against York —Death of General Pike—Capture of Fort George—Attack on Sackett's Harbor—Battle of Stony Creek.

The importance of the great navigable lakes lying between the United States and Canada had not been overlooked by either party to this war. As soon as it broke out, both began preparations to secure the ascendency on those waters—which, besides its direct advantages, would be almost necessary to either in making invasions around the coasts. A large portion of the shores on both sides—more especially, perhaps, on the American side—was at that time a wilderness, and the few open ports would naturally hold out strong temptations to the enemy.

The chief advantage was with the British, both because the oldest and largest settlements were on their side of the lakes, and because they had possession of the St. Lawrence River, which made it easy for them to bring up supplies from the seaboard. The Americans, however, had regularly trained naval officers in command of their few vessels on lakes Ontario and Champlain, while the English had not. The largest American vessel on the lower lakes was the Oneida, of sixteen guns; the largest British vessel, the Royal George, of twenty-two. The enemy also had several other vessels, carrying from a dozen to sixteen guns each, which it would be useless to specify, as their names and character were several times changed during the war. As soon as hostilities were declared, both sides began building new ships and arming merchant schooners.

In July, 1812, the British fleet had made an attempt to capture the Oneida and a prize schooner, both of which were at Sackett's Harbor. Lieutenant-Commander Woolsey anchored the Oneida in the harbor, where she could command the entrance, placed half of her guns in a battery on shore, and easily drove off the enemy's fleet, whose performance exhibited very little of the character of serious warfare.

In October, of that year, Captain Isaac Chauncey arrived at Sackett's Harbor, with authority to organize a fleet. He brought from New York forty ship-carpenters and a hundred officers and seamen, and a supply of naval stores. He bought ten or a dozen schooners, armed them—generally with long swivel guns—and fitted them up for naval service as well as their character would admit. These, with the Oneida, carried forty guns and four hundred and thirty men.

Chauncey's first exploit with this fleet was to chase the Royal George into the harbor of Kingston, and attack the batteries there; but nothing was accomplished by it save the capture of two small prizes. He lost one man killed and eight wounded—five by the bursting of a gun. About the same time (November, 1812), an expedition was made to clear the Canadian shore of batteries at the head of Niagara River. Four hundred soldiers and sailors, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Boerstler and Captain King, crossed from Black Rock in twenty boats, assaulted the batteries, and after desperate fighting captured them. They then spiked all the guns, burned the barracks, and retreated to the shore. The usual bad management seems to have entered into this, as into all the other enterprises of the sort, and the boats were not at hand for the recrossing; in consequence of which Captain King and sixty of his men were made prisoners.

Nothing can be done on the lakes in winter, as the harbors are closed by ice; but the building of vessels went on, and with the opening of spring General Dearborn and Commodore Chauncey began operations which showed no lack of activity and energy, however well or ill judged they may have been. York (now Toronto) was at this time the capital ===of Upper Canada. It was a place of about twelve hundred inhabitants, situated on a beautiful landlocked bay, about two by three miles in extent. The British were known to have a large vessel there, the Prince Regent, and to be building another. Mainly for the purpose of seizing this vessel, and destroying the one on the stocks, General Dearborn planned an expedition against York. He had seventeen hundred men available for the purpose, and Commodore Chauncey had fourteen vessels.

The expedition was organized, and sailed from Sackett's Harbor on the 25th of April. The winds were unfavorable, and the passage was somewhat tedious; but the fleet arrived off the harbor of York on the 27th. The intention was to land the troops by means of boats, at a point about two and a half miles west of the town, the guns of the fleet covering the landing, and march at once on the defences of the place, where General Roger H. Sheaffe was in command. But the water was rough, and the boats were driven half a mile farther westward, where they were compelled to land with but little protection from the vessels.

Here a body of British and Indians, concealed in the edge of a wood, were ready to receive them.

A column of riflemen, under Major Forsyth, were in the first boats, and as they approached the shore the enemy opened upon them with a destructive fire. Forsyth lost a considerable number of men before he could land. But his riflemen stood up in the boats and returned the fire with some effect, and he was followed quickly by a battalion of infantry under Major King, and this by the main body under General Zebulon M. Pike, who was in immediate command of the entire military force. The fleet at the same time contrived to throw a few effective shots into the woods, and the landing was effected without confusion.

The skirmishing party of British and Indians had been gradually strengthened till, by the time General Pike's forces were on shore, they had an almost equal force to dispute their passage toward the town. The enemy were still in the woods, and as soon as the Americans had been formed in battle order they advanced. The nature of the ground made it almost impossible to move or use their artillery; but the enemy had three pieces, with which they attacked the flanks of the column. The fighting soon became hot and deadly. There were charges and counter-charges, one and another part of either line alternately giving way and rallying again; but on the whole the advantage was with the Americans, and the British were gradually forced back into the outer defences. The Indians are said to have fled from the field early in the action.

The approach to the town, along the shore, was crossed by numerous streams and ravines, and the enemy destroyed the bridges behind them as they retired. Two pieces of artillery were with great difficulty taken across one of these ravines and placed where they could be brought to bear on the enemy.

The orders to the infantry were, to advance with unloaded muskets and carry the first battery at the point of the bayonet. This was easily done, as the enemy only remained long enough to discharge two or three cannon-shots hastily, and then fell back to his second battery, nearer the town.

General Pike led the column forward at once to the second battery, which the enemy also abandoned, after spiking the guns. Here he discovered that the barracks, three hundred yards still nearer to the town, appeared to be evacuated. Suspecting that there might be some scheme on the part of the enemy for drawing him into a disadvantageous position, where a stand would be made, he halted at the second battery, and sent forward Lieutenant Riddle with a few men to find out the true state of affairs.

The Lieutenant found the barracks deserted, and was about to return with the information, when suddenly the ground was shaken by a terrific explosion, and in a moment the air was darkened by flying boards, timbers, and stones, bars of iron, shells, and shot. The magazine, containing five hundred barrels of powder, had been blown up. It was situated in a little ravine, the bank of which protected Lieutenant Riddle's party, all of whom escaped. But a considerable number of the beams and masses of masonry, passing over their heads, fell within the battery. General Pike, who had just been removing a wounded prisoner to a place of safety, at the moment was seated on a stump, questioning a British sergeant who had been captured in the woods. As the shower of débris came down within the battery, the General was crushed to the earth by a section of stone wall, and two of his aides and the wounded sergeant were also struck down—all of them being fatally injured. By this explosion, fifty-two Americans were killed outright, and one hundred and eighty wounded. About forty British soldiers also, who were near the magazine, were killed.

General Pike being disabled, the command devolved upon Colonel Cromwell Pearce, who pushed on with his troops as soon as possible, though not in time to prevent the escape of the British General Sheaffe and all his regulars who remained unharmed. Sheaffe drew up terms of capitulation, and left them in the hands of the officer who commanded the militia. As the Americans approached the town, they were met by this officer with the offer to surrender, the capitulation to include the town and all government stores therein. While the parley was going on, Sheaffe destroyed most of the military stores, set fire to the war-vessel that was on the stocks, and made off, but his baggage and private papers were captured. Two hundred and ninety officers and men—of the British navy and militia—became prisoners and were paroled. General Pike had enjoined upon his soldiers the duty of protecting private property in the town, and given orders that marauding should be punished with death. His wishes were carefully observed; but the government buildings were burned.

General Pike, when his wound was found to be mortal, was borne off to the fleet. A little while afterward the British flag that had floated over York was brought to him. He asked to have it placed under his head, and in a few minutes calmly expired. He was but thirty-four years of age, but had performed valuable services for his country, especially in the command of two exploring expeditions, one about the headwaters of the Mississippi, and the other in what is now western Louisiana and Texas—of both of which he published accounts. The war-vessel that the Americans expected to capture at York had left the harbor two days before their arrival. The troops abandoned the place, and on the 1st of May were taken again on board the fleet, which as soon as the weather would permit, on the 8th, sailed away. In this expedition the loss of the American land forces was fourteen killed and twenty-three wounded, besides those who suffered from the explosion of the magazine. In the fleet, seventeen men were killed or wounded. The British regulars lost sixty-two killed and ninety wounded; the loss of the Indians and militia was unknown.

Two episodes of this battle have been discussed with considerable warmth. The first is the explosion of the magazine. It is not certain that this was done purposely. General Sheaffe, in his report, attributed it to "an unfortunate accident," but two English historians speak of it with commendation as a regularly laid plan. American writers who condemn it have done so on the ground that, as the commanding General had made arrangements for a surrender, the place was virtually surrendered already, and he therefore had no farther right to destroy life or even property. Commodore Chauncey probably gave the correct view of the matter when he wrote: "I'm much inclined to believe that General Sheaffe was correct when he stated that it was accidental. Nor could I condemn the enemy, even if a train had been laid. It is a perfectly legitimate mode of defence, as every student of history knows; and why should we censure the garrison for thus employing an acknowledged means of defence, to check the progress of an invader?" If the surrender had not virtually taken place, it is difficult to see why the defenders of the town are to be any more blamed for firing a stone wall at their enemy than they would have been for firing a thousand bullets.

The other point discussed is the burning of the government buildings. They were undoubtedly set on fire, though without orders from headquarters. It was said that the soldiers were incensed at finding a human scalp—presumably that of an American, taken by some Indian, and sold to the British authorities for the proffered premium—hanging on the wall of the legislative chamber. This scalp and the Speaker's mace were sent to Washington, where the British troops found them when they, in turn, burned our government buildings a little more than a year later.

When Chauncey's fleet left the harbor of York, it sailed due south, and landed the troops at a point four miles east from the mouth of Niagara River, where they went into camp. From here a small expedition was fitted out under Lieutenant Pettigrew, of the navy, who with a hundred men sailed in two schooners to the head of Lake Ontario, to capture a large quantity of stores deposited there. They landed on the 10th of May, drove off the guard, burned the buildings, and brought away the stores. Chauncey himself, with the remainder of the fleet, carried the wounded to Sackett's Harbor, whence he returned on the 25th with provisions, guns, and a reënforcement of about three hundred and fifty men.

General Dearborn immediately planned the capture of Fort George, just above the village of Newark, on the western side of the Niagara, two miles from its mouth. It was arranged that the troops should be landed on the lake shore, and, marching southward and eastward, attack the British works from the land side. The enterprise was admirably planned, and brilliantly executed. The water at the proposed landing-place was carefully sounded, and the stations marked with buoys. A considerable number of boats, to be used in landing the forces, had been built on the shore of the river, were launched on May 26th, and immediately drew the fire of the enemy's batteries.

Before daylight on the morning of the 27th, the fleet weighed anchor. Five of the vessels took positions where they could annoy with a cross-fire the batteries that were within gunshot of the landing-place. Others took position for the immediate protection of the troops, and at the same time Fort Niagara opened fire on Fort George, which was returned with spirit. All the batteries on the river joined in the contest, and there was a grand chorus of artillery firing. The battery immediately opposite Fort George was the most effective, and considerably damaged that work.

The troops were under the personal command of General Boyd, who had succeeded General Pike. With him were many most skilful and efficient officers, some of whom afterward became famous. The gallant Major Forsyth was there, with his riflemen, and Colonel Macomb with his artillery. Winfield Scott, then a colonel, was there, and Captain Oliver Hazard Perry had hurried down from Lake Erie, to offer his services and take part in the enterprise.

The preparations for the defence had been quite as well made as those for the attack. When the boats loaded with troops approached the shore, a column of two hundred men, posted in a ravine, opened a sharp fire on them. The fire was returned from the boats, which moved on without stopping for a moment or being thrown into any confusion. Captain Hindman, of the artillery, was the first man to land on the enemy's coast; and many of the officers and men were so eager to follow him that they leaped into the water and waded ashore.

The fire of some of the vessels was brought to bear upon the enemy in the ravine; and as soon as the advance column landed, it formed in battle order and moved forward to the charge. The enemy soon gave way, but retired slowly, and at the same time a second and stronger column, which had been posted in another ravine, half a mile in the rear, moved forward to protect the retreat of the advance guard and oppose the progress of the Americans.

Every step thus far had been contested, and the roar of cannon and rattle of small arms, both on the water and on shore, had been almost incessant from the beginning of the engagement. But the bloodiest work was to come. The combined columns of British troops, numbering eight hundred or more, took a strong position at the top of a steep bank. The advance, under Colonel Scott, moved directly against this position; but as his men attempted to climb the bank in the face of the enemy, they were mercilessly cut down by a sharp and steady fire. Three times they tried to reach the top, and three times were driven back. But when Colonel Moses Porter's light artillery and a portion of Boyd's brigade had come up to his assistance, Scott was at length enabled to carry the height. The victory at this point decided the day. The flying enemy were pursued as far as the village of Newark, at which point Scott detached a force to cut off the retreat westward toward Burlington, while with the remainder of his troops he pressed on at once to Fort George. This work had been so much damaged by the bombardment, and the garrison now left in it was so small, that it was easily captured. As Scott approached it, one of the magazines was exploded, and a heavy stick of timber struck him and knocked him from his horse. Hurrying forward, the soldiers in the advance discovered that trains had been laid for the explosion of two other magazines, and they were just in time to put out the matches. When the gates of the fort were broken open, Scott was the first man to enter, and with his own hands he hauled down the British flag. Close behind him was Colonel Moses Porter, who could not help exclaiming, "Confound your long legs, Scott, you have got in before me!"

A few prisoners were taken with the fort; but Scott, bent upon making his victory complete, made but a brief halt there, and then hurried on his forces in pursuit of the retreating enemy. Twice orders were sent to him to turn back, and both times he refused to obey them. "Your General does not know," said he to a lieutenant who brought one of these orders, "that I have the enemy within my power; in seventy minutes I shall capture his whole force." Colonel Burn, who ranked Scott, but had consented to serve under him, had crossed the river with a troop of cavalry, and was waiting for another now in midstream, to land, when with his whole force he was to join the pursuit. But the fifteen minutes thus lost in waiting enabled General Boyd to ride up in person and peremptorily order the pursuit discontinued, which of course put an end to it. Just why the General did this—whether he feared the victory might be turned into a disaster, or was only apprehensive that Colonel Scott was getting too much glory—has never been explained.

In this action, which was over by noon, the Americans lost one hundred and fifty-three men, killed or wounded. The British loss, as nearly as can be ascertained, was two hundred and seventy-one killed or wounded, and over six hundred unwounded prisoners, five hundred of whom were militia and were paroled.

The British seized the opportunity while Dearborn and his forces were absent on this expedition near the western end of Lake Ontario, to make an attack on Sackett's Harbor, at the eastern. The importance of that place to the Americans consisted mainly in the fact that they had established there a large depot of naval and military stores, and were building ships.

The expedition sailed from Kingston in four war-vessels, a brig, two schooners, and two gunboats, all under command of Sir James Lucas Yeo. The land forces, commanded by General Prevost, numbered about a thousand, besides a party of Indians, said to have numbered three hundred.

About noon of the 28th the squadron appeared off Sackett's Harbor, and preparations for landing were made. But after the troops had been in the boats about half an hour, an order was issued—for some mysterious reason, which has never been explained—commanding them all to return to the ships, which then stood off for Kingston. But while this was going on, a fleet of nineteen boats was observed near the south shore, bringing American reenforcements from Oswego to the Harbor. The Indians; who thought they were there to fight, and could not understand why they should return to the ships without firing a gun, disobeyed the order, and paddled off to attack the Americans in the boats. The squadron then wore round again, and sent out boatloads of troops to the assistance of the Indians, who drove ashore and captured twelve of the American boats, after their occupants had escaped to the woods. The other seven reached the Harbor. This little affair inspired the British General with new courage, and he resumed the purpose of landing his whole force for an attack on the village.

But meanwhile the Americans were busily preparing for defence. Lieutenant-Colonel Electus Backus, who commanded the remnant of regular troops left at the post, had sent word the evening before to General Jacob Brown, of the militia, who had been requested by General Dearborn to take command in case of an attack during his absence. A militia force numbering about five hundred was hastily gathered from the surrounding country, and added to the small body of regulars and volunteers, The militia were posted behind a ridge of sand which had been thrown up west of the village, where their fire would sweep that part of the shore which offered the only good landing-place for the enemy. On their right were posted the volunteers, with a single piece of artillery. The regulars were formed near their camp about a mile distant.

Early in the morning of the 29th the enemy landed. As their boats approached the shore, the militia and volunteers rose and fired into them, and were fired upon in return by two gunboats that had been sent to cover the landing. The enemy's boats then pulled around to the other side of Horse Island, which is near the mouth of the harbor, landed, and marched steadily across the narrow causeway that connects it with the mainland. As they approached the ridge, the militia gave them another volley, and then fled to the woods, abandoning the piece of artillery. Colonel Mills was killed while trying to hold them to their work. General Brown, who was borne away with the fugitives, succeeded in rallying about eighty of them, whom he posted behind a huge fallen tree, at the edge of a small open field. From this cover they gave the still advancing enemy three or four volleys, and then retreated.

Thus the left of the American line was completely swept away. The right, composed of volunteers, gave way more slowly, and retired in good order along the shore, skirmishing all the way with the enemy's advance, till they reached and formed in line with the regulars. They were annoyed on the way by the enemy's gunboats, which swept portions of the road with grapeshot; but on the other hand the enemy suffered considerably from the fire of their rifles and from parties of regulars sent out by Colonel Backus to join in the skirmishing.

The volunteers took position on the left of the second line of defence. The right was occupied by dismounted light dragoons, and the centre by regular infantry and artillery. The enemy, elated, as he had cause to be, at his first success, came steadily on to attack this line, and as he approached was subjected to an artillery fire from a small work called Fort Tompkins. He struck the right flank of the Americans, but found it made of different stuff from militia. Again and again the attempt was made to force this part of the line; but the dragoons, commanded by Backus in person, stood firm, delivered their fire with coolness, and drove back the assailants. The fight was kept up for an hour, and at length the weight of numbers told, and the Americans fell back.

A portion of them next took possession of the log barracks, and here made a third stand. The enemy came on as gallantly as ever, intent upon driving everything before him. Colonel Gray, Quartermaster-General, led the red-coats, and as they came up to the attack, an American drummer-boy picked up a musket, levelled it at the Colonel, and shot him down. Lieutenant Fanning, who had been severely wounded at York, and was not expected to be on duty, took charge of a gun. As the enemy approached, he carefully sighted the piece, and gave them three rounds of grapeshot in quick succession, which broke the force of their onset, and they began to fall back in some disorder. At this moment Colonel Backus fell mortally wounded.

The officer in charge of the stores had been instructed to set fire to them in case the enemy seemed likely to capture the place. Seeing the probability of this, he now applied the torch, not only to the storehouses but also to a new vessel that was almost ready to be launched, and to one that had been recently captured from the enemy.

With the Americans driven to their last stronghold, and the smoke from their burning stores rolling over their heads, the day appeared to be irretrievably lost. But though the enemy was strong in good troops, gallantly led, he had a weak spot in the constitutional timidity of the commander, Sir George Prevost. And General Brown at this point of time made a fortunate movement which struck that weak spot in a most effective way. He had succeeded in rallying about three hundred of the militia, with whom he suddenly emerged from the woods, and made a feint of marching for the boats by which the expedition had landed. Sir George took the alarm at once, imagining he was to be surrounded by a superior force and entrapped. He therefore issued an order for retreat, and his victorious forces withdrew to their ships without securing any result of their victory, or even bearing off their wounded. A reënforcement of six hundred men, under Lieutenant-Colonel Tuttle, who had inarched forty miles in one day, reached the vil lage just as the enemy were pushing off in their boats.

The Americans succeeded in putting out the fires, but not till half a million dollars' worth of stores had been destroyed. The new ship was but little injured, as her timbers were so green they would not burn readily. The prize vessel was on fire, and she had considerable powder in her hold; but Lieutenant Talman, at the risk of his life, boarded her, suppressed the flames, and brought her off to a place of safety at a distance from the burning buildings.

Sir George, not content with making a needless fiasco of his expedition, made himself ridiculous by sending a flag of true to demand the surrender of the village and the military post, which of course was refused. He then sent another flag, asking that his dead and wounded might be properly cared for, and on receiving assurances that they would, sailed away with the whole fleet.

The loss of the Americans in this action was about one hundred and seventy, killed, wounded, or missing; that of the British, about two hundred and sixty.

A few days after the loss of Fort George, General Vincent concentrated the British forces at Beaver Dams, and retreated westward to Burlington Bay, the head of Lake Ontario, where he intrenched himself on the heights. General Dearborn, after being baffled for some time by false information which Vincent had caused to be conveyed to him, at length found out where he had gone, and sent the brigades of Winder and Chandler after him. The Americans, following the "ridge road" that skirts the whole shore of the lake, came up with the enemy's pickets at Stony Creek, a small stream that crosses the road at right angles, on the 5th of June. There was considerable skirmishing, and the enemy's pickets were driven in.

General Chandler, with a wise caution thus far seldom displayed, placed a company of artillery at the mouth of the creek, three miles from the road, to cover a landing of boats expected there, with the rest of his forces took a strong position on the high eastern bank of the creek, where the road crosses it, threw out pickets in all directions, gave orders how the line should be formed in case of an attack, and ordered that the artillery horses be kept harnessed.

One regiment at first encamped in the low meadows on the western bank, but after nightfall it withdrew to the heights, leaving its camp-fires burning, A picket guard that had been posted at a little chapel a quarter of a mile in advance was left there.

The officer in command of the enemy's rear guard had sent word to General Vincent that the Americans were in straggling detachments, and if the first were attacked at once it could easily be defeated before the others came up to its support. The General therefore, as he had little chance of further retreat, planned a night attack. A little before midnight of the 5th he left his camp, at the head of about a thousand men, and marched stealthily back by the road he had come, to surprise his foe. The night was absolutely dark, and the sentinels at the little chapel were suddenly seized and silently bayoneted before they could fire their muskets or make any outcry. The assassination of pickets is one of the sickening incidents of war that seldom find mention in the reports of the general or the pages of the romantic historian, but that cost many a poor fellow his life without even the pitiful compensation of what is called glory.

Seeing the camp-fires in the meadow, with no signs of life among them, the British forces imagined that the Americans were all asleep and would fall an easy prey to massacre. They advanced confidently, and as they reached the deserted fires sprang among them with a hideous yell—in which part of the performance they were materially assisted by a few score Indian allies—expecting to see their foes arise from the ground, and rub their eyes open just in time to catch the gleam of the British bayonets and savage tomahawks before they were buried in American flesh.

Instead of this, while they stood dazed among the waning camp-fires, looking about in vain for somebody to massacre, the line on the heights blazed out with musketry and artillery, and the shot tore its way through the ranks of the red-coats. But the English soldier has always been good at obeying orders, and as soon as this volley revealed the whereabouts of the Americans, their enemy pressed on in the face of the fire, climbed the bank, entered the lines in the darkness, and captured several guns, the artillerists not being able to distinguish friend from foe.

Then began a horrible mêlée, in which nearly every man fought on his own account, and many of them could not tell whether they were striking at comrades or enemies. Hearing a few shots fired in the rear of his camp, General Chandler imagined he was attacked from that direction also, and faced about a portion of his line, which increased the dreadful confusion. After this wild work in the darkness and tumult, the British managed somehow to retreat, carrying off with them two pieces of artillery, which, however, were afterward recovered.

When the morning dawned, it was found that the American commanders, Chandler and Winder, were both prisoners in the hands of the enemy; while the British commander, Vincent, had been thrown from his horse, lost his way in the woods, and after floundering about all night was discovered in a most pitiful and ridiculous plight. Chandler was taken while trying to manoeuvre a British regiment, which he had stumbled upon in the darkness and mistaken for one of his own.

In this affair the Americans lost one hundred and fifty-four men, killed, wounded, or missing; the British, two hundred and fourteen. The victory, so far as there was any, must be accorded to the British, since it broke the advance of the Americans and caused them to turn back. When they had retreated as far as Forty-Mile Creek, they were attacked simultaneously on both flanks—on the land side by a band of Indians, and on the water side by the fleet under Sir James Yeo. But they succeeded in repelling both enemies, and returned to Fort George with the loss only of a part of their baggage, which was conveyed in boats.

After this, Yeo coasted along the shore and captured stores in Charlotte, at the mouth of the Genesee, and in Sodus, on the bay of that name. As he met with some resistance at Sodus, and had difficulty in finding the stores, which were hidden, he burned the buildings there. There was a British depot of supplies at Beaver Dams, about seven miles southwest of Queenstown and the same distance northwest of the Falls. General Dearborn planned its capture, and on the 23d of June sent against it, from Fort George, an expedition of five hundred and seventy men, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Charles G. Boerstler. The enemy had strong works at Beaver Dams, but at this time they were not very well manned.

The Americans, who had about fifteen miles to march, started in the evening, with the intention of surprising and capturing the post in the morning. But the enemy had been apprised of the movement, and when the Americans reached the present site of Thorold they fell into an ambush, where they were suddenly attacked by four hundred and fifty Indians, commanded by John Brant (son of the celebrated Mohawk chief, Joseph Brant) and Captain Kerr. Though surprised, Boerstler was not confused. He coolly but quickly formed his men in battle order, and charged through the woods in the direction of the attack. To little purpose, however, as the wily savages, following their usual tactics, fled before the line of bayonets, and soon attacked the Americans from another direction, firing from the thickets and other hiding-places. After keeping up a desultory contest of this sort for three hours, with no prospect of any termination, Boerstler fell back to a position in an open field, encountering on the way a body of Canadian militia. Scarcely had he taken this new position, to wait for reënforcements which he had asked General Dearborn to send, when a small detachment of British regulars approached to reconnoitre. They were commanded by a Lieutenant Fitzgibbon, who had been warned of the ap proach of the Americans by a woman who had walked nineteen miles to tell him.

Seeing that his enemy was somewhat disordered, and not disposed, to take the offensive, Fitzgibbon, though he had but forty-seven men, conceived the idea of capturing the whole force by one of those tricks which are generally supposed to be peculiarly Yankee. Displaying his little detachment in such a way as to make it appear to be the advance of a much larger body of troops, he sent a flag of truce to Boerstler and boldly demanded an immediate surrender, saying that fifteen hundred regulars and seven hundred Indians were but a short distance in the rear, and would soon come up. For the truth of this he gave his word, "on the honor of a British soldier." Boerstler, supposing escape would be impossible, surrendered, on condition that his men should be paroled and permitted to return to the United States. A Major De Haren, who had been sent for in all haste by Fitzgibbon, now came up with two hundred additional troops, and received the surrender, which included five hundred and forty-two men, two guns, and a stand of colors. Major Chapin, who was present, says: "The articles of capitulation were no sooner signed than they were violated. The Indians immediately commenced their depredations, and plundered the officers of their side arms. The soldiers, too, were stripped of every article of clothing to which the savages took a fancy, such as hats, coats, shoes, etc." The British commander also violated the articles by refusing to permit the militia to be paroled, whereupon many of them rose upon the guards, overpowered them, and escaped, taking some of the guards along as prisoners.

This ridiculous affair excited the deepest indignation throughout the country; and, in obedience to public sentiment, the President soon removed General Dearborn from command.

It was hardly more than a fortnight later, July 11th, when Lieutenant-Colonel Bisshopp planned an attack on Black Rock, a few miles north of Buffalo, where the Americans had a dockyard and large storehouses. With about three hundred men, before daylight of July 11th, he crossed the river in boats, surprised and took possession of the place. and proceeded to burn and plunder as rapidly as possible. He set fire to the block-houses, the barracks, the navy-yard buildings, and a schooner that lay at the wharf, and carried off a considerable quantity of stores. But before he could accomplish all this, General Peter B. Porter had got together a small force, consisting of regulars, volunteers, militia, and a few friendly Indians, and vigorously attacked the invaders. A fight of twenty minutes' duration ended in the precipitate retreat of the British, who left behind them a captain and nine men killed or wounded, and fifteen prisoners. After the boats had pushed off, the Americans renewed their fire, by which Bisshopp, commander of the expedition, was killed, and many of his men were either killed or wounded. The loss of the Americans was three men killed and three wounded. That of the enemy is supposed to have been about seventy. They had carried off four guns, besides spiking all they left. Bisshopp, who had proved himself an energetic and skilful officer, was a serious loss.

Commodore Chauncey, who was a most meritorious naval commander, though he never made a very brilliant reputation, was all this summer trying to bring Sir James Yeo to a decisive battle on Lake Ontario; but Sir James had a genius for not fighting, and could only be chased to shelter under the guns of the British forts. It was said also that his instructions forbade his fighting except under the most favorable circumstances. Once there seemed to be a prospect of a square battle near the mouth of the Niagara, in August; but Chauncey's plan was frustrated by the captains of two of his schooners, who in disobedience of orders tried to get to windward of the British line, and were captured. On the 28th of September there was a partial engagement between the two squadrons; but from their unequal sailing, it was only possible to bring three of the American vessels into action. One of these was badly crippled, but another handled the British flagship so severely that she crowded on all canvas and made off, followed by the entire fleet, which the Americans could not overtake. On the 5th of October Chauncey gave chase to a squadron which proved to be seven British gunboats used as transports. One of them was burned, one escaped, and the other five were captured, together with more than two hundred and sixty men. Two of the prizes were those taken from Chauncey near the Niagara.

These successes left Lake Ontario virtually in the possession of the Americans; and meanwhile the command of Lake Erie had been gained by a most brilliant and memorable battle. During the winter of 1812-13 two large brigs, intended to carry twenty guns each, and several gunboats and schooners were built at Presque Isle (now Erie, Pa.), where there was a fine harbor. For this work a force of carpenters was sent from New York. The timber of which they were to construct the vessels was growing in the woods, and the trees had to be felled and worked up at once; there was no time to wait for the wood to season. All the ironwork, canvas, cordage, and stores had to be brought from New York or Philadelphia, and as there was neither railroad nor canal, and much of the intervening country was a wilderness, the difficulties of transportation were very great. A bar at the mouth of the harbor, on which there was but seven feet of water, prevented the British cruisers from sailing in and destroying the vessels before they were launched.

Captain Oliver Hazard Perry, who, though quite young, had seen considerable service afloat, was ordered from the seaboard to take command on Lake Erie, and arrived at Buffalo in March. His volunteer service in the attack on Fort George has been already mentioned. The fall of that work was followed by the abandonment of Fort Erie, which released the vessels that had been blockaded by its guns in the upper part of the Niagara, and early in June they rendezvoused at Presque Isle. Perry now had his entire force in one harbor, and pushed on his equipment with the greatest possible speed. One of the new brigs was made his flagship, and was named the Lawrence. The bar that had thus far protected the fleet was now a hindrance to its sailing, for it could be passed by the larger vessels only in calm weather, and even then they must be lightened of their guns and heavy stores. The British commander, Captain R. H. Barclay, was watching with his entire fleet for Perry to come out. If, as is supposed, he intended to attack him while crossing the bar, when he could probably have won a victory, he lost his opportunity by attending to pleasure before duty. A gentleman living on the northern shore of the lake invited him to dinner one Sunday, and he crossed over with his whole squadron. At the same time the water became smooth, and Perry, who had been eagerly watching for such a chance, proceeded to take out his fleet at once.

The Lawrence, which was his heaviest vessel, was provided with a large scow on each side, and on her arrival at the bar these scows were nearly filled with water, and sunk very low. Great beams were then passed through her port-holes, the ends projecting over the scows. Piles of blocks were provided for these ends to rest upon, and then the holes in the scows were plugged up, and the water pumped out. As the scows rose, they lifted the brig with them. But though her guns had been taken out and left on the beach, as well as all other heavy articles that could be removed, she still drew too much water to pass the bar. Another lift was made, which occupied the night, and finally she floated across. The other brig, the Niagara, was not quite so large, and was taken over with less difficulty. The lighter vessels had crossed the bar without assistance; and on the approach of the English squadron at eight o'clock the next morning, it was received with a cannonade, which, though it did no harm, prevented Barclay from running in close and seizing the prey he had been so long watching for. The Lawrence's guns were taken on board as soon as she was afloat outside, and the broadside was trained to bear on the enemy.

This was Monday, the 5th of August, and Perry was now afloat on Lake Erie with ten vessels, carrying fifty-five guns and—after he had received several reënforcements—about four hundred men. Captain Barclay had about the same number of men, in six vessels, carrying sixty-five guns, his flagship being the Detroit. As soon as the American fleet was fairly over the bar, the British sailed away up the lake, and it took Perry a month to find them and bring them to action. He was at Put-in-Bay; in one of the islands near the western end of the lake, when at sunrise on the morning of September 10th the British fleet was sighted from the masthead, bearing down from the northwest, apparently bent on having a fight.

Perry had given the commanders of his several vessels careful instructions what to do in case of an engagement, ending with the remark that "they could not be out of their proper places if they laid their enemy close alongside." Within an hour after the enemy was sighted, the squadron was beating out of the bay. The wind was from the southwest, which made it impossible for the Americans to get the weather-gage, unless by circumnavigating some of the islands. As there was apparently no time for this, Perry determined to accept the chances of battle without that advantage, and accordingly passed to leeward of the islands. But fortune favored him unexpectedly, for the wind soon shifted to the southeast, giving him the weather-gage, which for vessels armed as his were was very important.

At ten o'clock the British squadron, having failed in manoeuvres for the weather-gage, hove to, in line of battle, with their bows to the west and south, and awaited the approach of their enemy, now about nine miles distant. One of the smaller vessels was at the head of the line, and the Detroit, Barclay's flagship, next; then came another small vessel, and then the Queen Charlotte, a large one, and then the two remaining small ones. The British vessels were all freshly painted, and had new canvas, presenting a handsome appearance to the eye of a sailor.

As Perry approached and observed this order, he formed his own line to correspond with it. He placed two schooners in the van, one carrying four guns and the other two; then his flagship, the Lawrence; then the Caledonia, of three guns; then the Niagara, of twenty; and then the other vessels, which, however, as the wind was light, did not come up very promptly. The orders were, that the vessels should be but half a cable's length apart.

As he approached the enemy. Perry displayed a blue flag bearing the words, "Don't give up the ship." * A few minutes before twelve o'clock, a bugle was sounded on the British flagship, which was answered by cheers from all the other vessels in the line, and followed by the discharge of one of her long guns, pointed at the Lawrence. As the American was still a mile and a half distant, the shot fell short; but this space was being gradually lessened, and the battle was soon fairly opened. One of the two schooners in the van replied with a

* For the origin of this motto, see page 199.

long gun, while the Lawrence, being armed with carronades, bore down upon the British flagship, to engage her at short range. This she succeeded in doing, but not without suffering considerably, and the three largest of the British vessels concentrated their fire on her. The two foremost schooners fought their long guns well; but as they had been ordered to keep to windward of the flagship (that is, a little farther from the enemy) they did not draw off any of the fire from her. But, after two hours of this, the Niagara drew ahead of the Caledonia, thus assuming the place in the line next to the Lawrence, and fought most gallantly; still, this hardly lessened the fire that was poured into the flagship, which the enemy seemed determined to sink. Many of her spars were shot away, all of her guns on the starboard side, but one, were rendered useless, and of a hundred men on board, twenty-two were killed and sixty-one wounded—a proportion of casualties that had never been equalled in any similar battle.

The Lawrence dropped out of the fight, and Perry transferred his flag to the Niagara, which pulled ahead to a position for engaging the Detroit. When the enemy saw the flag come down, they supposed they had gained a victory, stopped firing, and cheered. But the decisive struggle was yet to come. Captain Elliott, of the Niagara, passed down the line in a small boat, delivering to the commander of each vessel Perry's order to close up and attack the enemy at half pistol-shot with grape and canister. He then remained with and commanded one of the last vessels in the line, leaving the Niagara to Perry.

At this time the wind freshened, Perry showed the signal for close action, an answering cheer passed along his line, and once more the whole squadron bore down upon the enemy. Barclay attempted to manoeuvre his vessels so as to bring his uninjured broadsides to bear; but his line got into confusion, and two of the vessels fouled.

Perry took prompt advantage of this. The Niagara sailed right through the confused British line, having two of their vessels on one side, and three on the other—all within short range—and delivered her deadly broadsides in both directions as she passed. Then she luffed across their bows, and raked them, and the cries that came from the Detroit told that this merciless operation had had its usual deadly effect. At the same time, the other American vessels came into close action, and their guns were served with great rapidity. This destructive work had lasted about twenty minutes when an officer of the Queen Charlotte displayed a white handkerchief on the point of a pike, and four of the British vessels struck their colors. The other two attempted to escape, but were overtaken in about an hour and compelled to surrender.

In this battle, the entire loss of the Americans was twenty-seven killed and ninety-six wounded. Twelve of these were quarterdeck officers. As more than a hundred out of four hundred on board had previously been rendered unfit for duty by dysentery and cholera, the proportion of casualties to effective men was more than one in three. The British lost forty-one killed and ninety-four wounded, including twelve officers. Captain Barclay, who had lost his left arm in a previous engagement, in this one lost the use of his right.

The masts of the Detroit and Queen Charlotte were so injured that they snapped off two days later, from the rolling of the vessels in the bay, while riding at anchor during a gale.

In a despatch to General Harrison, Perry announced his victory in words that have become famous: "We have met the enemy, and they are ours: two ships, two brigs, one schooner, and one sloop." Congress voted him a gold medal for his achievement. As the question of the fighting qualities of the black man has since been considerably discussed, it is worth noting that in this bloody and brilliant battle a large number of Perry's men were Negroes. Much of the credit of the victory has been claimed for Captain Jesse D. Elliott, who undoubtedly deserved it, and his services were generously acknowledged in Perry's official report.

Many interesting incidents of this famous action have been related by different participants. At the opening of the battle, the English musicians played the well-known air of "Rule, Britannia!—Britannia, rule the waves!"—on which the result of the fight was a ludicrous comment, proving that an exception must be made in favor of the waves of Lake Erie.

On the British flagship there was a pet bear, and when the victors stepped on board they found it eagerly lapping up the blood from the deck.

The British commander had repeated the silly performance of nailing his colors to the mast, which never has any other effect than to sacrifice lives that might have been saved if the signal of surrender, when surrender became necessary, could have been displayed instantly.

On Captain Barclay's vessel were three Indians, whom he placed in the tops, or cross-trees, with rifles in their hands, to pick off the American officers, that kind of work being exactly suited to their taste. But as the first part of the action was fought at long cannon-range, beyond the reach of rifle-shot, they found themselves in danger from numerous large balls that went tearing through the rigging, and at the same time totally unable to murder anybody on the distant vessels. Indians have always stood in mortal terror of artillery. So they descended to the deck; but here they found it still more dangerous, and finally the disgusted braves retreated down the hatchway. When the Americans came on board, they found them hidden in the hold. This is probably the only instance of Indians taking part, or attempting to take part, in modern naval warfare. But they have a legend of a great Indian naval battle that took place on the waters of this same lake two hundred years before.

The Senecas—so runs the story—who inhabited the southern and eastern shores of Ontario and the St. Lawrence, had declared war against the Wyandots, who inhabited the northern and western shores. A Wyandot chief, gambling with a Seneca, had won his wife; but the Seneca refused to give her up. Shortly afterward she eloped with the Wyandot, and they escaped to the country of the Pottawatomies, in Michigan. This was the cause of the war, which the Senecas began by crossing the St. Lawrence, surprising a Wyandot village, and cruelly murdering a large number of the inhabitants.

Finally the whole Wyandot nation fled before their enemies, passed along the northern shore of Lake Ontario, crossed the peninsula north of Lake Erie, and after great suffering and serious losses escaped by crossing St. Clair River on cakes of floating ice.

The next summer the Senecas planned a naval expedition against the Wyandots, to be fitted out at the eastern end of Lake Erie, near the present site of Buffalo, pass up the lake and through Detroit River, and rescue the stolen squaw and exterminate the tribe. But the Wyandots had early information of this design, and several of the tribes inhabiting the peninsula of Michigan joined with them in preparations to repel the threatened invasion.

The war-canoes built by the Senecas were "dug-outs," hewn from the trunks of large trees. The Wyandots and their allies prepared a fleet of birch-bark canoes, which were much lighter, swifter, and more easily manoeuvred, and went down the lake to meet their enemy. They coasted along the northern shore as far as North Point, where they waited to make a reconnoissance. The Wyandot who had carried off the woman crossed the lake alone, climbed a tall tree overlooking the rendezvous of the Senecas, and counted their craft and noted their preparations. Then he passed by a wide circuit around their encampment, swam the Niagara below the Falls, and the next day rejoined the fleet of the allies, to whom he was able to give all necessary information as to the number and equipment of their enemy.

They set sail—or rather pulled paddles—at once. But when in full sight of the Senecas, pretended to be frightened, and retreated. The Senecas gave a war whoop, launched their heavy canoes, and pad-died after them as fast as possible. When the allies had thus drawn their antagonists far away from the shore, they suddenly turned upon them, and a bloody and merciless battle ensued, which lasted for several hours. Indian after Indian was cut down, or gradually hacked to pieces, or knocked overboard. Some of the canoes were run down; others were grappled together while their occupants fought hand-to-hand. The lighter boats of the allies were a great advantage, and finally the Senecas were defeated. The dead and the badly wounded were then thrown overboard, while the prisoners were reserved for torture. One Seneca was found to have concealed himself in the bottom of a canoe, feigning death that he might escape captivity. The victors cut off his nose and ears, and knocked out his teeth, and in that disgraceful plight sent him home to bear the news of the disaster to his tribe. On the bank of Niagara River the captured canoes were piled up for a funeral pyre, and a hundred of the wounded Senecas were tied and laid upon it, Fire was set to it. and as one and another escaped when his shackles were burned off, he was shot down with arrows or brained with a war-club. When the victims were all reduced to ashes, the allies celebrated their victory with a feast and dance, and then returned home. Such was the legend told by Walk-in-the-Water, a Wyandot chief, when he heard of Perry's victory, which he thought was a small affair in comparison with the exploit of his ancestors.

By the capture of the British fleet, the lakes were cleared of the enemy, and but one more movement was necessary in order to restore to the United States all that had been lost by Hull's surrender. How successfully that movement was executed will be shown in the next chapter.

A History, of the War of 1812-15 Between the United States and Great Britain

A HISTORY, OF THE WAR OF 1812-15 BETWEEN THE UNITED STATES AND GREAT BRITAIN

By Rossiter Johnson

Dodd, Mead and Company Publishers1882

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