EBB AND FLOW ON THE NORTHERN FRONT
The events of the war by land are apt to be as confusing in narration as
they were in fact. The many forays, skirmishes, and retreats along the
Canadian frontier were campaigns in name only, ambitiously conceived but
most haltingly executed. Major General Dearborn, senior officer of the
American army, had failed to begin operations in the center and on the
eastern flank in time to divert the enemy from Detroit; but in the
autumn of 1812 he was ready to attempt an invasion of Canada by way of
Niagara. The direct command was given to Major General Stephen Van
Rensselaer of the New York State militia, who was to advance as soon as
six thousand troops were assembled. At first Dearborn seemed hopeful of
success. He predicted that "with the militia and other troops there or
on the march, they will be able, I presume, to cross over into Canada,
carry all the works in Niagara, and proceed to the other posts in that
province in triumph."
The fair prospect soon clouded, however, and Dearborn, who was of a
doubtful, easily discouraged temperament, partly due to age and
infirmities, discovered that "a strange fatality seemed to have pervaded
the whole arrangements." Yet this was when the movement of troops and
supplies was far brisker and better organized than could have been
expected and when the armed strength was thrice that of Brock, the
British general, who was guarding forty miles of front along the Niagara
River with less than two thousand men. At Queenston which was the
objective of the first American attack there were no more than two
companies of British regulars and a few militia, in all about three
hundred troops. The rest of Brock's forces were at Chippawa and Fort
Erie, where the heavy assaults were expected.
An American regular brigade was on the march to Buffalo, but its
commander, Brigadier General Alexander Smyth, was not subordinate to Van
Rensselaer, and the two had quarreled. Smyth paid no attention to a
request for a council of war and went his own way. On the night of the
10th of October Van Rensselaer attempted to cross the Niagara River,
but there was some blunder about the boats and the disgruntled troops
returned to camp. Two nights later they made another attempt but found
the British on the alert and failed to dislodge them from the heights of
Queenston. A small body of American regulars, led by gallant young
Captain Wool, managed to clamber up a path hitherto regarded as
impassable. There they held a precarious position and waited for help.
Brock, who was commanding the British in person, was instantly killed
while storming this hillside at the head of reinforcements. In him the
enemy lost its ablest and most intrepid leader.
The forenoon wore on and Captain Wool, painfully wounded, still clung to
the heights with his two hundred and fifty men. A relief column which
crossed the river found itself helpless for lack of artillery and
intrenching tools and was compelled to fall back. Van Rensselaer forgot
his bickering with General Smyth and sent him urgent word to hasten to
the rescue. Winfield Scott, then a lieutenant colonel, came forward as a
volunteer and took command of young Captain Wool's forlorn hope.
Gradually more men trickled up the heights until the ground was defended
by three hundred and fifty regulars and two hundred and fifty militia.
Meanwhile the British troops were mustering up the river at Chippawa,
and the red lines of their veterans were descried advancing from Fort
George below. Bands of Indians raced by field and forest to screen the
British movements and to harass the American lines. The tragic turn of
events appears to have dazed General Van Rensselaer. The failure to save
the beleaguered and outnumbered Americans on the heights he blamed upon
his troops, reporting next day that his reinforcements embarked very
slowly. "I passed immediately over to accelerate them," said he, "but to
my utter astonishment I found that at the very moment when complete
victory was in our hands the ardor of the unengaged troops had entirely
subsided. I rode in all directions, urged the men by every consideration
to pass over; but in vain."
The candid fact seems to be that this general of militia had made a
sorry mess of the whole affair, and his men had lost all faith in his
ability to turn the adverse tide. He stood and watched six hundred
valiant American soldiers make their last stand on the rocky eminence
while the British hurled more and more men up the slope. One concerted
attack by the idle American army would have swept them away like chaff.
But there was only one Winfield Scott in the field, and his lot was
cast with those who fought to the bitter end as a sacrifice to
stupidity. The six hundred were surrounded. They were pushed back by
weight of opposing numbers. Still they died in their tracks, until the
survivors were actually pushed over a cliff and down to the bank of the
river.
There they surrendered, for there were no boats to carry them across.
The boatmen had fled to cover as soon as the Indians opened fire on
them. Winfield Scott was among the prisoners together with a brigadier
general and two more lieutenant colonels who had been bagged earlier in
the day. Ninety Americans were killed and many more wounded, while a
total of nine hundred were captured during the entire action. Van
Rensselaer had lost almost as many troops as Hull had lost at Detroit,
and he had nothing to show for it. He very sensibly resigned his command
on the next day.
The choice of his successor, however, was again unfortunate. Brigadier
General Alexander Smyth had been inspector general in the regular army
before he was given charge of an infantry brigade. He had a most
flattering opinion of himself, and promotion to the command of an army
quite turned his head. The oratory with which he proceeded to bombard
friend and foe strikes the one note of humor in a chapter that is
otherwise depressing. Through the newspapers he informed his troops that
their valor had been conspicuous "but the nation has been unfortunate in
the selection of some of those who have directed it... The cause of
these miscarriages is apparent. The commanders were popular men,
'destitute alike of theory and experience' in the art of war." "In a few
days," he announced, "the troops under my command will plant the
American standard in Canada. They are men accustomed to obedience,
silence, and steadiness. They will conquer or they will die. Will you
stand with your arms folded and look on this interesting struggle?...
Has the race degenerated? Or have you, under the baneful influence of
contending factions, forgot your country?... Shame, where is thy blush?
No!"
This invasion of Canada was to be a grim, deadly business; no more
trifling. His heroic troops were to hold their fire until they were
within _five paces_ of the enemy, and then to charge bayonets with
shouts. They were to think on their country's honor torn, her rights
trampled on, her sons enslaved, her infants perishing by the hatchet,
not forgetting to be strong and brave and to let the ruffian power of
the British King cease on this continent.
Buffalo was the base of this particular conquest of Canada. The advance
guard would cross the Niagara River from Black Rock to destroy the
enemy's batteries, after which the army was to move onward, three
thousand strong. The first detachments crossed the river early in the
morning on the 28th of November and did their work well and bravely and
captured the guns in spite of heavy loss. The troops then began to
embark at sunrise, but by noon only twelve hundred were in boats.
Upstream they moved at a leisurely pace and went ashore for dinner. The
remainder of the three thousand, however, had failed to appear, and
Smyth refused to invade unless he had the full number. Altogether, four
thousand troops, all regulars, had been sent to Niagara but many of them
had been disabled by sickness.
General Smyth then called a council of war, shifted the responsibility
from his own shoulders, and decided to delay the invasion. Again he
changed his mind and ordered the men into the boats two days later.
Fifteen hundred men answered the summons. Again the general marched them
ashore after another council of war, and then and there he abandoned
his personal conquest of Canada. His army literally melted away, "about
four thousand men without order or restraint discharging their muskets
in every direction," writes an eyewitness. They riddled the general's
tent with bullets by way of expressing their opinion of him, and he left
the camp not more than two leaps ahead of his earnest troops. He
requested permission to visit his family, after the newspapers had
branded him as a coward, and the visit became permanent. His name was
dropped from the army rolls without the formality of an inquiry. It
seemed rather too much for the country to bear that, in the first year
of the war, its armies should have suffered from the failures of Hull,
Van Rensselaer, and Smyth.
It had been hoped that General Dearborn might carry out his own idea of
an operation against Montreal at the same time as the Niagara campaign
was in progress. On the shore of Lake Champlain, Dearborn was in command
of the largest and most promising force under the American flag,
including seven regiments of the regular army. Taking personal charge at
Plattsburg, he marched this body of troops twenty miles in the direction
of the Canadian border. Here the militia refused to go on, and he
marched back again after four days in the field. Beset with rheumatism
and low spirits, he wrote to the Secretary of War: "I had anticipated
disappointment and misfortune in the commencement of the war, but I did
by no means apprehend such a deficiency of regular troops and such a
series of disasters as we have witnessed." Coupled with this complaint
was the request that he might be allowed "to retire to the shades of
private life and remain a mere but interested spectator of passing
events."
The Government, however, was not yet ready to release Major General
Dearborn but instructed him to organize an offensive which should obtain
control of the St. Lawrence River and thereby cut communication between
Upper and Lower Canada. This was the pet plan of Armstrong when he
became Secretary of War, and as soon as was possible he set the military
machinery in motion. In February, 1813, Armstrong told Dearborn to
assemble four thousand men at Sackett's Harbor, on Lake Ontario, and
three thousand at Buffalo. The larger force was to cross the lake in the
spring, protected by Chauncey's fleet, capture the important naval
station of Kingston, then attack York (Toronto), and finally join the
corps at Buffalo for another operation against the British on the
Niagara River. But Dearborn was not eager for the enterprise. He
explained that he lacked sufficient strength for an operation against
Kingston. With the support of Commodore Chauncey he proposed a different
offensive which should be aimed first against York, then against
Niagara, and finally against Kingston. This proposal reversed
Armstrong's programme, and he permitted it to sway his decision. Thus
the war turned westward from the St. Lawrence.
The only apparent success in this campaign occurred at York, the capital
of Upper Canada, where on the 27th of April one ship under construction
was burned and another captured after the small British garrison had
been driven inland. The public buildings were also destroyed by fire,
though Dearborn protested that this was done against his orders. In the
next year, however, the enemy retaliated by burning the Capitol at
Washington. The fighting at York was bloody, and the American forces
counted a fifth killed or wounded. They remained on the Canadian side
only ten days and then returned to disembark at Niagara. Here Dearborn
fell ill, and his chief of staff, Colonel Winfield Scott, was left in
virtual control of the army.
In May, 1813, most of the troops at Plattsburg and Sackett's Harbor
were moved to the Niagara region for the purpose of a grand movement to
take Fort George, at the mouth of that river, from the rear and thus
redeem the failure of the preceding campaign. Commodore Chauncey with
his Ontario fleet was prepared to cooperate and to transport the troops.
Three American brigadiers, Boyd, Winder, and Chandler, effected a
landing in handsome fashion, while Winfield Scott led an advance
division. Under cover of the ships they proceeded along the beach and
turned the right flank of the British defenses. Fort George was
evacuated, but most of the force escaped and made their way to
Queenston, whence they continued to retreat westward along the shore of
Lake Ontario. Vincent, the British general, reported his losses in
killed and wounded and missing as three hundred and fifty-six. The
Americans suffered far less. It was a clean-cut, workmanlike operation,
and, according to an observer, "Winfield Scott fought nine-tenths of the
battle." But the chief aim had been to destroy the British force, and in
this the adventure failed.
General Dearborn was not at all reconciled to letting the garrison of
Fort George get clean away from him, and he therefore sent General
Winder in pursuit with a thousand men. These were reinforced by as many
more; and together they followed the trail of the retreating British to
Stony Creek and camped there for the night. Vincent and his sixteen
hundred British regulars were in bivouac ten miles beyond. The mishap at
Fort George had by no means knocked the fight out of them. Vincent
himself led six hundred men back in the middle of a black night (the 6th
of June) and fell upon the American camp. A confused battle followed.
The two forces intermingled in cursing, stabbing, swirling groups. The
American generals, Chandler and Winder, walked straight into the enemy's
arms and were captured. The British broke through and took the American
batteries but failed to keep them. At length both parties retired, badly
punished. The Americans had lost all ardor for pursuit and on the
following day retreated ten miles and were soon ordered to return to
Fort George.
General Dearborn was much distressed by this unlucky episode and was in
such feeble health that he again begged to be relieved. He was, he said,
"so reduced in strength as to be incapable of any command." General
Morgan Lewis took temporary command at Niagara, but, being soon called
to Sackett's Harbor, he was succeeded by General Boyd, whom Lewis was
kind enough to describe, by way of recommendation, in these terms: "A
compound of ignorance, vanity, and petulance, with nothing to recommend
him but that species of bravery in the field which is vaporing,
boisterous, stifling reflection, blinding observation, and better
adapted to the bully than the soldier."
In order to live up to this encomium, Boyd sent Colonel Boerstler on the
24th of June, with four hundred infantry and two guns, to bombard and
take an annoying stone house a day's march from Fort George. But two
hundred hostile Indians so alarmed Boerstler that he attempted to
retreat. Thirty hostile militia then caused him to halt the retreat and
send for reinforcements. The reinforcements came to the number of a
hundred and fifty, but the British also appeared with forty-seven more
men. Colonel Boerstler thereupon surrendered his total of five hundred
and forty soldiers. General Dearborn, still the nominal commander of the
forces, sadly mentioned the disaster as "an unfortunate and
unaccountable event."
There is a better account to be given, however, of events at Sackett's
Harbor in this same month of May. The operations on the Niagara front
had stripped this American naval base of troops and of the protection of
Chauncey's fleet. Sir George Prevost, the Governor in Chief of Canada,
could not let the opportunity slip, although he was not notable for
energy. He embarked with a force of regulars, eight hundred men, on Sir
James Yeo's ships at Kingston and sailed across Lake Ontario.
Sackett's Harbor was defended by only four hundred regulars of several
regiments and about two hundred and fifty militia from Albany. Couriers
rode through the countryside as soon as the British ships were sighted,
and several hundred volunteers came straggling in from farm and shop and
mill. In them was something of the old spirit of Lexington and Bunker
Hill, and to lead them there was a real man and a soldier with his two
feet under him, Jacob Brown, a brigadier general of the state militia,
who consented to act in the emergency. He knew what to do and how to
communicate to his men his own unshaken courage. On the beach of the
beautiful little harbor he posted five hundred of his militia and
volunteers to hamper the British landing. His second line was composed
of regulars. In rear were the forts with the guns manned.
The British grenadiers were thrown ashore at dawn on the 28th of May
under a wicked fire from American muskets and rifles, but their
disciplined ranks surged forward, driving the militia back at the point
of the bayonet and causing even the regulars to give ground. The
regulars halted at a blockhouse, where they had also the log barracks
and timbers of the shipyard for a defense, and there they stayed in
spite of the efforts of the British grenadiers to dislodge them. Jacob
Brown, stout-hearted and undismayed, rallied his militia in new
positions. Of the engagement a British officer said: "I do not
exaggerate when I tell you that the shot, both of musketry and grape,
was falling about us like hail... Those who were left of the troops
behind the barracks made a dash out to charge the enemy; but the fire
was so destructive that they were instantly turned by it, and the
retreat was sounded. Sir George, fearless of danger and disdaining to
run or to suffer his men to run, repeatedly called out to them to retire
in order; many, however, made off as fast as they could."
Before the retreat was sounded, the British expedition had suffered
severely. One man in three was killed or wounded, and the rest of them
narrowly escaped capture. Jacob Brown serenely reported to General
Dearborn that "the militia were all rallied before the enemy gave way
and were marching perfectly in his view towards the rear of his right
flank; and I am confident that even then, if Sir George had not retired
with the utmost precipitation to his boats, he would have been cut off."
Though he had given the enemy a sound thrashing, Jacob Brown found his
righteous satisfaction spoiled by the destruction of the naval barracks,
shipping, and storehouses. This was the act of a flighty lieutenant of
the American navy who concluded too hastily that the battle was lost and
therefore set fire to the buildings to keep the supplies and vessels out
of the enemy's hands. Jacob Brown in his straightforward fashion
emphatically placed the blame where it belonged:
The burning of the marine barracks was as infamous a transaction as
ever occurred among military men. The fire was set as the enemy met
our regulars upon the main line; and if anything could have
appalled these gallant men it would have been the flames in their
rear. We have all, I presume, suffered in the public estimation in
consequence of this disgraceful burning. The fact is, however, that
the army is entitled to much higher praise than though it had not
occurred. The navy alone are responsible for what happened on Navy
Point and it is fortunate for them that they have reputations
sufficient to sustain the shock.
A few weeks later General Dearborn, after his repeated failures to
shake the British grip on the Niagara front and the misfortunes which
had darkened his campaigns, was retired according to his wish. But the
American nation was not yet rid of its unsuccessful generals. James
Wilkinson, who was inscrutably chosen to succeed Dearborn, was a man of
bad reputation and low professional standing. "The selection of this
unprincipled imbecile," said Winfield Scott, "was not the blunder of
Secretary Armstrong." Added to this, Wilkinson was a man of broken
health. He was shifted from command at New Orleans because the Southern
Senators insisted that he was untrustworthy and incompetent. The regular
army regarded him with contempt.
Secretary Armstrong endeavored to mend matters by making his own
headquarters at Sackett's Harbor, where the next offensive, directed
against Montreal, was planned under his direction. Success hung upon the
cooperation and junction of two armies moving separately, the one under
Wilkinson descending the St. Lawrence, the other under Wade Hampton
setting out from Plattsburg on Lake Champlain. The fact that these two
officers had hated each other for years made a difficult problem no
easier. Hampton possessed uncommon ability and courage, but he was proud
and sensitive, as might have been expected in a South Carolina
gentleman, and he loathed Wilkinson with all his heart. That he should
yield the seniority to one whom he considered a blackguard was to him
intolerable, and he accepted the command on Lake Champlain with the
understanding that he would take no orders from Wilkinson until the two
armies were combined.
The expedition from Sackett's Harbor was ready to advance by way of the
St. Lawrence in October, 1813, and comprised seven thousand effective
troops. Even then the commanding general and the Secretary of War had
begun to regard the adventure as dubious and were accusing each other of
dodging the responsibility. Said Wilkinson to Armstrong: "It is
necessary to my justification that you should, by the authority of the
President, direct the operations of the army under my command
particularly against Montreal." Said Armstrong to Wilkinson: "I speak
conjecturally, but should we surmount every obstacle in descending the
river we shall advance upon Montreal ignorant of the force arrayed
against us and in case of misfortune having no retreat, the army must
surrender at discretion." This was scarcely the spirit to inspire a
conquering army. As though to clinch his lack of faith in the
enterprise, the Secretary of War ordered winter quarters built for ten
thousand men many miles this side of Montreal, explaining in later years
that he had suspected the campaign would terminate as it did, "with the
disgrace of doing nothing."
On the 17th of October the army embarked in bateaux and coasted along
Lake Ontario to the entrance of the St. Lawrence. After being delayed by
stormy weather, the flotilla passed the British guns across from
Ogdensburg and halted twenty miles below. There Wilkinson called a
council of war to decide whether to proceed or retreat. Four generals
voted to attack Montreal and two were reluctant but could see "no other
alternative." Wilkinson then became ill and was unable to leave his boat
or to give orders. Several British gunboats evaded Chauncey's blockade
and annoyed the rear of the expedition. Eight hundred British infantry
from Kingston followed along shore and peppered the boats with musketry
and canister wherever the river narrowed. Finally it became necessary
for the Americans to land a force to drive the enemy away. Jacob Brown
took a brigade and cleared the bank in advance of the flotilla which
floated down to a farm called Chrystler's and moored for the night.
General Boyd, who had been sent back with a strong force to protect the
rear, reported next morning that the enemy was advancing in column. He
was told to turn back and attack. This he did with three brigades. It
was a brilliant opportunity to capture or destroy eight hundred British
troops led by a dashing naval officer, Captain Mulcaster. Boyd lived up
to his reputation, which was such that Jacob Brown had refused to serve
under him. At this engagement of Chrystler's Farm, with two thousand
regulars at his disposal, he was unmercifully beaten. Both Wilkinson and
Morgan Lewis were flat on their backs, too feeble to concern themselves
with battles. The American troops fought without a coherent plan and
were defeated and broken in detail. Almost four hundred of them were
killed, wounded, or captured. Their conduct reflected the half-hearted
attitude of their commanding general and some of his subordinates. The
badly mauled brigades hastily took to the boats and ran the rapids,
stopping at the first harbor below. There Wilkinson received tidings
from Wade Hampton's army which caused him to abandon the voyage down
the St. Lawrence, and it is fair to conjecture that he shed no tears of
disappointment.
In September Hampton had led his forces, recruited to four thousand
infantry and a few dragoons, from Lake Champlain to the Canadian border
in faithful compliance with his instructions to join the movement
against Montreal. His line of march was westward to the Chateauguay
River where he took a position which menaced both Montreal and that
vital artery, the St. Lawrence. Building roads and bringing up supplies,
he waited there for Wilkinson to set his own undertaking in motion. Word
came from Secretary Armstrong to advance along the river, hold the enemy
in check, and prepare to unite with Wilkinson's army. Hampton acted
promptly and alarmed the British at Montreal, who foresaw grave
consequences and assembled troops from every quarter. Hampton then
learned that his army faced an enemy which was of vastly superior
strength and which had every advantage of natural defense, while he
himself was becoming convinced that Wilkinson was a broken reed and that
no further support could be expected from the Government. General
Prevost's own reports and letters showed that he had collected in the
Montreal district and available for defense at least fifteen thousand
rank and file, including the militia which had been mustered to repel
Hampton's advance. The American position at Chateauguay was not less
perilous than that of Harrison on the Maumee and far more so than that
which had cost Dearborn so many disasters at Niagara.
Hampton moved forward half-heartedly. He had received a message from the
War Department that his troops were to prepare winter quarters and these
orders confirmed his suspicions that no attempt against Montreal was
intended. "These papers sunk my hopes," he wrote in reply, "and raised
serious doubts of that efficacious support that had been anticipated. I
would have recalled the column, but it was in motion and the darkness of
the night rendered it impracticable."
The last words refer to a collision with a small force of Canadian
militia, led by Lieutenant Colonel de Salaberry, who had come forward to
impede the American advance. These Canadians had obstructed the road
with fallen trees and abatis, falling back until they found favorable
ground where they very pluckily intrenched themselves. The intrepid
party was comprised of a few Glengarry Fencibles and three hundred
French-Canadian Voltigeurs. Colonel de Salaberry was a trained soldier,
and he now displayed brilliant courage and resourcefulness. Two American
divisions attacking him were unable to carry his breastworks and were
driven along the river bank and routed. Hampton's troops abandoned much
of their equipment, and returned to camp with a loss of about fifty men.
There was great rejoicing in Canada and rightly so, for a victory had
been handsomely won without the aid of British regulars; and Colonel de
Salaberry's handful of French Canadians received the credit for
thwarting the American plans against Montreal. But, without belittling
the signal valor of the achievement, the documentary evidence goes to
prove that Hampton's failure was largely due to the neglect of his
Government. His state of mind at this time was such that he wrote:
"Events have no tendency to change my opinion of the destiny intended
for me, nor my determination to retire from a service where I can feel
neither security nor expect honor."
With this tame conclusion the armies of Wilkinson and Hampton tucked
themselves into log huts for the winter. Both accused the Secretary of
War of leading them into an impossible venture and of then deserting
them, while he in his turn accepted their resignations from the army.
The fiasco was a costly one in quite another direction, for the Niagara
sector had been overlooked in the elaborate attempt to capture Montreal.
The few American troops who had gained a foothold on the Canadian side,
at Fort George and the village of Niagara, were left unsupported while
all the available regulars were sent to the armies of Wilkinson and
Hampton. As soon as the British comprehended that the grand invasion had
crumbled, they bethought themselves of the tempting opportunity to
recover their forts at Niagara.
Wilkinson advised that the Americans evacuate Fort George, which they
did on the 10th of December, when five hundred British soldiers were
marching to retake it. There was no effort to reinforce the garrison,
although at the time ten thousand American troops were idle in winter
quarters. Fort Niagara, on the American side, still flew the Stars and
Stripes, but on the night of the 18th of December Colonel Murray with
five hundred and fifty British regulars rushed the fort, surprised the
sentries, and lost only eight men in capturing this stronghold and its
three hundred and fifty defenders. It was more like a massacre.
Sixty-seven Americans were killed by the bayonet. A few nights later
the Indian allies were loosed against Buffalo and Black Rock and ravaged
thirty miles of frontier. The settlements were helpless. The Government
had made not the slightest attempt to protect or defend them.
The war had come to the end of its second year, and by land the United
States had done no more than to regain what Hull lost at Detroit. The
conquest of Canada was a shattered illusion, a sorry tale of wasted
energy, misdirected armies, sordid intrigue, lack of organization. A few
worthless generals had been swept into the rubbish heap where they
belonged, and this was the chief item on the credit side of the ledger.
The state militia system had been found wanting; raw levies, defying
authority and miserably cared for, had been squandered against a few
thousand disciplined British regulars. The nation, angry and bewildered,
was taking these lessons to heart. The story of 1814 was to contain far
brighter episodes.