WHILE Ross and Cockburn were hastily burning the White House
and the Department buildings, anxious only to escape, and never sending
more than two hundred soldiers beyond Capitol Square, the President,
his Cabinet, his generals, and his army were performing movements at
which even the American people, though outraged and exasperated beyond
endurance, could not but laugh.
The President, after riding over the battle-field until the action
began, remarked to Monroe and Armstrong that “it would be now proper
for us to retire in the rear, leaving the military movement to
military men,” which they did.[246] A moment afterward the left of the
line gave way, and the panic-stricken militia poured along the road
leading westward toward the point which in later times became known
as the Soldier’s Home. The President retired with them, “continuing
to move slowly toward the city,” according to Monroe, in company with
Attorney-General Rush. The slowness of movement, on which Monroe seemed
to lay stress, was compensated by steadiness. The President left
Bladensburg battle-field toward two o’clock. He had already ridden in
the early morning from the White House to the navy-yard, and thence to
Bladensburg,--a distance of eight miles at the least. He had six miles
to ride, on a very hot August day, over a road encumbered by fugitives.
He was sixty-three years old, and had that day already been in the
saddle since eight o’clock in the morning, probably without food. Soon
after three o’clock he reached the White House, where all was confusion
and flight.[247] He had agreed with his Cabinet, in case of disaster,
to meet them at Frederick in Maryland, fifty miles away, but he did
not go toward Frederick. Before six o’clock he crossed the Potomac in
a boat from the White House grounds, and started by carriage westward,
apparently intending to join his wife and accompany her to his
residence at Montpelier in Loudoun County, adjoining Frederick County,
on the south side of the Potomac. Secretary Jones, Attorney-General
Rush, and one or two other gentlemen accompanied him. In the midst of a
troop of fugitives they travelled till dark, and went about ten miles,
passing the night at a house “a few miles above the lower falls.”[248]
The next morning, August 25, the President travelled about six miles
and joined his wife at an inn on the same road, where he remained
during the tornado, subjected to no little discomfort and some insult
from fugitives who thought themselves betrayed. Although far beyond
reach of the British troops and some twenty miles from their camp, the
panic was still so great as to cause an alarm on the following night,
which drove Madison from his bed for refuge in the Virginia woods,[249]
at the time when Ross’s army, more than twenty miles distant, was
marching at the utmost speed in the opposite direction.
Of all the rulers, monarchical or republican, whose capitals were
occupied by hostile armies in the Napoleonic wars, Madison was
personally the most roughly treated. Monroe’s adventures were not
less mortifying. As a scout the Secretary of State’s services were
hardly so valuable as those of a common trooper, for he was obliged
to be more cautious; as a general, his interference with the order of
battle at Bladensburg led to sharp criticisms from General Stansbury,
whose arrangements he altered,[250] and to the epithet of “busy and
blundering tactician” from Armstrong.[251] After the battle he was
not less busy, and opinions greatly differed whether he was less
blundering. He did not return to the White House with Madison, but
joined Winder and rode with him to the Capitol, where he assented to
an evacuation, and retired after the flying troops through Georgetown,
passing the night on the Maryland side of the Potomac. The next
morning, August 25, he crossed the river and overtook the President.
After an interview with him, Monroe recrossed the river to Winder’s
headquarters at Montgomery Court House, where he resumed military
functions.
The Secretary of the Treasury, G. W. Campbell, on the morning of the
battle went to the Cabinet meeting at the navy-yard, but his health,
which had become much affected, obliged him to return to his lodgings
instead of riding to Bladensburg. In parting from Madison, Campbell
lent him a pair of pistols, which the President put in his holsters.
Federalists were curious to know whether the pistols were the same
with which he shot Barent Gardenier, but learned only that they were
fine duelling pistols, and that they were stolen from the President’s
holsters during his short stay at the White House after the battle. The
secretary’s duelling pistols became the best known of all the weapons
unused that day; but the secretary himself made no further appearance
on the scene. He went to Frederick. The Secretary of the Navy and the
Attorney-General accompanied the President, and shared his fortunes.
Although ridicule without end was showered on the President and the
other civilians, their conduct was on the whole creditable to their
courage and character; but of the commanding general no kind word
could be said. Neither William Hull, Alexander Smyth, Dearborn,
Wilkinson, nor Winchester showed such incapacity as Winder either
to organize, fortify, fight, or escape. When he might have prepared
defences, he acted as scout; when he might have fought, he still
scouted; when he retreated, he retreated in the wrong direction;
when he fought, he thought only of retreat; and whether scouting,
retreating, or fighting, he never betrayed an idea. In the brief
moment of his preparations on the field at Bladensburg he found time
to give the characteristic order to his artillery: “When you retreat,
take notice that you must retreat by the Georgetown road.”[252] When
he left the field of Bladensburg he rode past Barney’s sailors, at
their guns, and sent his aid to Colonel Beall, on the hill covering
Barney’s right, with an order to retreat.[253] “After accompanying the
retreating army within two miles of the Capitol, I rode forward for the
purpose of selecting a position.”[254] He reached the Capitol first,
and was presently joined there by Monroe and Armstrong. Having decided
not to fight at the Capitol, or at any point between the Capitol and
Georgetown, he rode to Georgetown.[255] Behind Rock Creek his army
would have been safe, and he could certainly have rallied more than
a thousand men to stop the panic; but he thought a farther retreat
necessary, and went on to the heights. On the heights nothing could
reach him without hours of warning, but he rode three miles farther to
Tenallytown. At Tenallytown his exhausted men stopped a moment from
inability to run farther, yet he seemed angry at their fatigue. Struck
by a fresh panic at the glare of the burning city, he pressed his men
on at midnight. “After waiting in this position [Tenallytown] until I
supposed I collected all the force that could be gathered, I proceeded
about five miles farther on the river road, which leads a little wide
to the left of Montgomery Court House, and in the morning gave orders
for the whole to assemble at Montgomery Court House.” The river road
was the road that led farthest from the enemy westward, when every
motive required retreat toward Baltimore if anywhere. The next morning
Winder returned to the Rockville road, till he reached Rockville, or
Montgomery Court House, sixteen miles from Washington, where at last he
paused.
From the beginning to the end of the campaign Winder showed no military
quality. In other respects his conduct tallied with his behavior in
the field. He lost no opportunity of throwing responsibility on the
President and on his troops, and he so far succeeded as to save himself
from public anger by encouraging the idea that the President and the
Cabinet had directed the campaign. Universal as that belief was,
and continued to be, it was without foundation. While Winder courted
advice from every quarter, and threw on the President at every instant
the responsibility for every movement, neither the President nor the
Cabinet showed a disposition to interfere with his authority in any way
except to give the support he asked. Under the strongest temptation
they abstained even from criticism.
More than all the rest, Armstrong refrained from interference with
the movements of Winder. Of all the unfortunate or incapable generals
of the war, Winder was the one whom Armstrong treated with least
bitterness,[256] although he was not Armstrong’s choice, and was
the direct cause of the secretary’s ruin. So careful was Armstrong
not to interfere, that his non-interference became the chief charge
against him. At one moment the President told the secretary that he
interfered too much, at another moment that he should interfere more;
but in truth Armstrong was the only man connected with the defence of
Washington whom no one charged with being ridiculous. After August 20
his conduct was not open to reproach. He was cool when others were
excited; he tried to check the panic; his suggestions were sensible; he
gave all possible aid both to Winder and to the citizens; he attended
the President in his expeditions, used wisely such power as he had,
and indulged in few words.[257] At the President’s request he went
to Bladensburg to support and assist Winder; at the President’s order
he retired after the battle began. He returned, after Winder, to the
Capitol, hoping to convert that strong building into a fortress,--a
measure not unreasonable, if the regulars and sailors were rallied to
make a stand there. When Winder decided to retire to Georgetown, the
secretary acquiesced without a word. Then, in pursuance of a Cabinet
decision made a few hours before, he set out in company with Secretary
Campbell for Frederick, and arrived there in the course of the next day.
Armstrong and Campbell were at Frederick when the British army began
its retreat Thursday night; the President was in Virginia, sixteen
miles up the river; Winder and Monroe, with the remaining troops,
were at Montgomery Court House sixteen miles from Washington.
There they learned, Friday morning, that the British had marched
toward Bladensburg, probably going to Baltimore; and at about ten
o’clock in the morning Winder marched from Montgomery Court House
toward Brookville and Baltimore with all his force. Passing through
Brookville, they camped, Friday night, “about half way between
Montgomery Court House and Ellicott’s upper mills,”[258] and Winder
there left them, starting late that evening alone for Baltimore, and
leaving Monroe and Stansbury in command, with directions to follow.
Meanwhile the President had crossed the Potomac that morning, expecting
to find Winder and Monroe at Montgomery Court House; but on arriving
there at six o’clock in the evening, and learning that the army had
marched toward Baltimore, he followed as far as Brookville, about ten
miles, where he passed the night.[259] Attorney-General Rush was with
him. Saturday morning, August 27, the President sent notes to all his
Cabinet requesting them to unite in Washington.[260] The same afternoon
he returned with Monroe and Rush to the city, which they reached at
about six o’clock, after three days’ absence.
Armstrong and Campbell, ignorant of the change in plan, waited at
Frederick for the President’s arrival, while the President and
Monroe, Sunday, August 28, began the task of restoring the functions
of government. The task was difficult, not so much on account of the
British ravages, which had been confined to public property, as on
account of the general irritation and the continued panic. Hardly had
Ross’s army disappeared when a squadron of British war-vessels, under
Captain Gordon of the frigate “Seahorse,” worked its way up the river,
approaching Fort Washington or Warburton August 27. The commander of
that post, misunderstanding his orders, abandoned it and crossed the
river with his men. Gordon’s squadron reached Alexandria the next day,
and the town capitulated, since it could not resist. Until August 31
the frigates remained at Alexandria, loading such vessels as were there
with the tobacco and other produce which the warehouses contained.[261]
The citizens of Washington and Georgetown, expecting to be visited
in their turn, and conscious of their inability to resist, talked
of a capitulation. Public feeling ran strong against the President.
Armstrong was absent. Winder was at Baltimore. Monroe alone was in a
position to act, and upon Monroe the President was obliged to depend.
“Under these circumstances,” said Monroe in the only authentic
account of the event which remains,[262] “the President
requested Mr. Monroe to take charge of the Department of War
and command of the District _ad interim_, with which he
immediately complied. On the 28th, in the morning, the President
with Mr. Monroe and the Attorney-General visited the navy-yard,
the arsenal at Greenleaf’s Point, and passing along the shore of
the Potomac up toward Georgetown. Mr. Monroe, as Secretary of
War and military commander, adopted measures under sanction of
the President for the defence of the city and of Georgetown.”
Colonel W[adsworth?] who was placing some guns on the opposite shore
refused to obey an order of Monroe to change their position. Monroe
rode across the bridge and gave the order in person. The colonel
replied that he did not know Mr. Monroe as Secretary of War or
commanding general. Monroe ordered him to obey or leave the field, and
the colonel left the field.
Monroe’s act, whether such was his intention or not, was a _coup
d’état_. The citizens, unable to punish the President, were
rabid against Armstrong. No one could deny that they had reason for
their anger, although the blame for their misfortunes was so evenly
distributed between every officer and every branch of government that
a single victim could not justly be selected for punishment. Monroe,
instead of giving to Armstrong in his absence such support as might
have sustained him, took a position and exercised an authority that
led necessarily to his overthrow. The influence of such acts on the
citizens was obvious. That evening the first brigade of militia held a
meeting, and passed a formal and unanimous resolution that they would
no longer serve under the orders or military administration of General
Armstrong, whom they denounced as the willing cause of the fate of
Washington.[263] This mutinous resolution, adopted in the immediate
presence of the enemy, was taken to the President by two officers of
the brigade, one of whom at least was a strong friend of Monroe.[264]
The resolution of the first brigade was communicated to the President
the next morning, Monday, August 29. All the President’s recorded acts
and conversation for months after the capture of Washington implied
that he was greatly shaken by that disaster. He showed his prostration
by helplessness. He allowed Monroe for the first time to control him;
but he did not dismiss Armstrong. At one o’clock on the afternoon
of the same day the Secretary of War arrived in Washington.[265]
The President that evening rode to his lodgings. Madison preserved
a memorandum of their conversation, and Armstrong also immediately
afterward recorded what passed.[266] The President described to the
secretary the violent prejudices which existed in the city against
the Administration, and especially against himself and the Secretary
of War. “Before his arrival there was less difficulty, as Mr. Monroe,
who was very acceptable to them, had, as on preceding occasions of
his absence, though very reluctantly on this, been the medium for the
functions of Secretary of War;” but since Armstrong had returned,
something must be done.
Armstrong replied that he was aware of the excitement, and knew its
sources; that evidently he could not remain if his functions were
exercised by any one else; that he would resign, or retire from
Washington at once, as the President preferred.
Madison deprecated resignation, and recommended “a temporary
retirement, as he suggested;” and after some further conversation, in
which the President complained of the secretary’s mistakes, they parted
with the understanding that Armstrong should leave Washington the next
morning. Armstrong behaved with dignity and with his usual pride; but
he understood, if Madison did not, the necessary consequences of his
retirement, and on reaching Baltimore sent his resignation to the
President. At the same time he announced it to the public in a letter,
dated September 3, containing comments on the weakness of Madison’s
conduct calculated to close their relations.
Between conscious intrigue and unconscious instinct no clear line of
division was ever drawn. Monroe, by the one method or the other, gained
his point and drove Armstrong from the Cabinet; but the suspicion
that he had intrigued for that object troubled his mind to the day
of his death.[267] Even after Armstrong’s departure, the dangers and
disadvantages of appointing Monroe his successor were so great that for
three weeks the post remained unfilled, until, after many doubts and
hesitations, Monroe wrote to Madison a letter claiming the appointment
of Secretary of War.
“I have thought much of the state of the Departments at this
time,” he informed the President, September 25,[268] “and of
the persons whom it may be proper to place in them, and have
concluded that whatever may be the arrangement with respect to
other Departments, the Department of War ought to be immediately
filled. I think also that I ought to take charge of it.... By
taking charge of the Department twice, and withdrawing from
it a second time, it may be inferred that I shrink from the
responsibility from a fear of injuring my reputation; and this
may countenance the idea that the removal of the others was an
affair of intrigue in which I partook, especially in the latter
instance, from selfish and improper motives, and did not proceed
from his incompetency or misconduct. It seems due, therefore,
to my own reputation to go through with the undertaking by
accepting permanently a trust which I have not sought, never
wished, and is attended with great responsibility and hazard. By
taking the place, all clamor will be silenced. It is known, here
at least, that I was put into it when the other could no longer
hold it. Those who wished it in the first instance will be
satisfied, and I shall go on with your support and a favorable
expectation of the public that I shall discharge to advantage
its duties.”
While Monroe in private communications with Madison thus treated
Armstrong’s retirement as a “removal,” due to his “incompetency or
misconduct,” and Madison apparently acquiesced in that view, in public
Madison seemed inclined to convey the idea that Armstrong was not
removed or meant to be removed from office, but rather deserted it.
Whichever view was correct, Madison certainly dreaded the political
effect of appearing to remove Armstrong; and while he gave to Monroe
the appointment of Secretary of War, he wrote, September 29, to
Governor Tompkins of New York, offering him the State Department.
Governor Tompkins declined the offer. Apart from the great need of
his services as governor, the experience of Northern men in Virginia
Cabinets was not calculated to encourage any aspirant to the Presidency
in seeking the position. Monroe remained Secretary of State as well as
Secretary of War. As Secretary of State he had little or nothing to do,
which was partly the cause of his activity in military matters; but as
Secretary of War he was obliged to undertake a task beyond the powers
of any man.
During an entire month after the appearance of the British in the
Patuxent, the United States government performed few or none of its
functions. The war on the frontiers was conducted without orders from
Washington. Every energy of the government was concentrated on its own
immediate dangers, as though Washington were a beleaguered fortress.
Slowly the tide of war ebbed from the Potomac and Chesapeake, and not
until it had wholly subsided could men cease to dread its possible
return.
Captain Gordon’s squadron began its descent of the river September 1,
greatly annoyed[269] by batteries erected on the banks by Commodore
Rodgers, Perry, and Porter, who were sent from Baltimore, by order of
Secretary Jones, for the purpose. Not until September 6 did Captain
Gordon escape from his perilous position and rejoin the fleet.
Meanwhile the shores of Chesapeake Bay continued to be ravaged with
all the severity threatened by Cochrane. Frederick Chamier, afterward
the author of several popular sea-stories, was then a lieutenant on
the “Menelaus” in Cochrane’s squadron, and his recollections in “The
Life of a Sailor” gave a lively picture of the marauding in which
he took part.[270] Like Napier, Chamier was too tender-hearted for
his work. “I am willing to make oath,” he wrote, in reply to Captain
Scott’s contradictions, “that on the day that the ‘Menelaus’ entered
the Potomac, three houses were burning at the same time on the
left-hand bank of the river. We burnt more than five ourselves.” War
was commonly accompanied by destruction, but the war in the Chesapeake
was remarkable for the personal share taken by the highest officers,
especially by Cockburn and Ross, in directing the actual operation of
setting fire to private and public property.[271]
At last the practice caused a disaster that cost the British navy a
life more valuable than all the property it could destroy or carry
away. The “Menelaus,” commanded by Sir Peter Parker, was sent up
Chesapeake Bay to divert attention from the general movement of troops
and ships on the Potomac.[272] The “Menelaus” took position off the
Sassafras River, which Cockburn had cleared of vessels the year before.
Nothing in the river could injure the navy, but the “Menelaus” was
ordered to make a diversion; and Sir Peter Parker learned from negroes
that two hundred militia, encamped behind a wood half a mile from the
beach, intended to cross the bay for the protection of Baltimore.[273]
One hundred and twenty-four men were landed at eleven o’clock on the
night of August 30, and went in search of the militia. Instead of half
a mile, they were led by their guides three or four miles, and at last
found the militia drawn up, ready to receive them. Sir Peter Parker
ordered an attack, and while cheering it on in the moonlight was struck
by a buckshot, which severed the femoral artery. The sailors carried
him back to the ship, but he died long before reaching it.[274] His
party escaped with a loss of thirteen killed and twenty-seven wounded
besides their captain.
The Americans regretted only that the punishment had fallen on the
wrong person, for Cochrane and Cockburn rather than Parker were the
true marauders; but the lesson was effectual, and the British became
more cautious after Parker’s death. Indeed, their activity in the
Chesapeake centred thenceforward in an effort to capture Baltimore,
which required all their strength.
Baltimore should have been first attacked, but Cockburn’s influence by
diverting Ross to Washington gave the larger city time to prepare its
defence. The citizens themselves, headed by the mayor, took charge of
the preparations; and their first act, contrary to the course pursued
by Armstrong and Winder at Washington, was to construct intrenchments
round the city, and to erect semi-circular batteries at a number of
points, mounted with cannon and connected by a line of works. After the
capture of Washington the citizens toiled still more earnestly at their
task, until a formidable line of redoubts protected the town, and,
though not wholly finished, gave cover to the militia. The batteries
were manned by sailors, commanded by officers of the navy. The harbor
was protected by Fort McHenry, small but capable of defence, and
occupied by a strong force of regular troops, sailors, and volunteer
artillerists numbering about one thousand, under the command of
Lieutenant-Colonel Armistead of the Artillery.[275]
These precautions made the capture of Baltimore impossible by such
a force as had taken Washington, even though aided by the fleet.
The precise number of troops present in the city, according to the
official return for September 10, was twelve thousand nine hundred and
ninety-one men present for duty, with eight hundred and ninety-seven
officers. The aggregate of present and absent was sixteen thousand
eight hundred and five men.[276] The force was ample to man the works,
but the fortifications chiefly decided the result. No army on either
side during the war succeeded in storming works in face, except by
surprise; and to turn the works of Baltimore a larger army was required
than Ross had at his command.
The militia major-general commanding at Baltimore was no other than
Samuel Smith, senator of the United States. He had lately passed his
sixty-second year. The brigadier-general in the United States service
who commanded the military district was W. H. Winder, whose defence of
Washington ended abruptly August 24, and who left that neighborhood on
the evening of August 26 to take command of the defences of Baltimore.
Winder was a Baltimore lawyer, only three years Smith’s junior, when
Eustis and Madison gave him a regiment in March, 1812. Smith was not
disposed to accept the idea of subordination to a man of inferior
rank, military and civil, who knew no more of war than Smith knew,
and whose career had been twice marked by unusual ridicule. Winder on
arriving in Baltimore notified Smith that he should take command, and
was astonished when the senator declined to surrender his authority.
Winder appealed to the President and to the governor of Maryland, his
cousin Levin Winder; but nothing could be done to assist him, and in
the end he submitted. Samuel Smith remained in command.
The British leaders having succeeded in turning their demonstration
up the Patuxent into an attack on Washington, next decided to make “a
demonstration upon the city of Baltimore, which might be converted
into a real attack should circumstances appear to justify it,”[277]
and sailed from the Potomac September 6 for the Patapsco River. They
anchored September 11 off its mouth. From that point Ross’s army when
landed had only fourteen miles to march, and no water in their way,
while Cochrane’s fleet had but twelve miles to sail. Compared with the
approaches to Washington, the approach to Baltimore was easy.
[Illustration:
MILITARY TOPOGRAPHY
OF
BALTIMORE
AND ITS VICINITY
AND OF
PATAPSCO NECK
TO
NORTH POINT
BY ORDER OF
BRIG. GEN. W. H. WINDER
1814.]
Ross’s troops were all landed at daylight on the northern point,
and were in motion by eight o’clock September 12, without
firing a shot. Their numbers were differently given by British
authorities,--one reporting them at three thousand two hundred and
seventy rank-and-file;[278] the other reckoning them at upward of five
thousand.[279] Ross made on the Patapsco no such leisurely movements
as on the Patuxent, but began his march at once, and proceeded about
five miles without meeting resistance. The light brigade with the
Eighty-fifth regiment was in advance; the second brigade, under Colonel
Brooke of the Forty-fourth, followed; and the third brigade, under
Colonel Patterson of the Twenty-first, formed the rear. At the same
time the fleet moved up the channel toward Fort Henry.
The city was naturally excited at the news that the British had
arrived. General Smith, on receiving the intelligence September 11,
detached a brigade of Baltimore militia, under General Stricker, to
check the enemy if possible, and Stricker advanced that evening about
seven miles toward North Point. His force numbered about three thousand
two hundred men;[280] and with that body of raw militia, a part of
whom had been routed at Bladensburg only a fortnight before, General
Stricker attempted to fight a battle with five thousand old soldiers.
On the morning of September 12 he formed his troops in three lines
three hundred yards apart, apparently in close order, without cover
or protection of any kind, standing in fields more or less open, and
with an exposed flank.[281] Of all his arrangements, the only one
which showed ordinary caution was to send a detachment of cavalry
and riflemen a mile or two in his front. As the British advance
approached, the American outposts fell back, and General Stricker sent
forward some four hundred men, partly rifles, as skirmishers. The
British advanced guard coming up, the skirmishing party fired, but was
soon driven back. Ross and Cockburn were walking together with the
advance, and after the firing ceased, Ross turned back alone to order
up the light companies in anticipation of more serious resistance. On
his way he was shot through the breast from the wood, and fell in the
road, where he lay till he was found by the light companies hurrying
forward to the scene of the firing. He barely spoke afterward.[282]
The loss of their commanding general was the second heavy penalty
paid by the British for their contempt of militia. Colonel Brooke
immediately took command, and the advance was not checked; but the loss
was not the less serious. When Brooke saw Stricker’s line stretching
across the field, he did not dash at them at once with the light
brigade as Thornton had attacked the larger force and stronger position
at Bladensburg, but deployed the whole army and formed a regular order
of battle. Although his force easily overlapped and outflanked the
American, the engagement that followed was sharp, and the Americans
were not routed without considerable loss to the British, who reported
forty-six killed and two hundred and seventy-three wounded,--or more
than they reported at Bladensburg. The Americans, though routed,
suffered less, losing only twenty-four killed, one hundred and
thirty-nine wounded, and fifty prisoners, with two field-pieces.
This spirited little battle detained the British so long that they
bivouacked on the field, and passed the night in a drenching rain,
resuming their march the next morning, September 13, when they found
the roads obstructed, and were obliged to move so slowly that evening
arrived before they came in sight of Baltimore.[283] When at last
they saw on the distant heights the long line of intrenchments that
surrounded Baltimore on the side of their approach, they stopped short.
Colonel Brooke had gone forward with the advance, and was engaged all
day, at about a mile and a half distance, in studying the American
lines. He made arrangements for a night attack, hoping to avoid the
effects of the American artillery,[284] and then waited for the fleet
to support him.
The fleet all day bombarded the forts and batteries that covered
the entrance to the harbor, and continued the bombardment till past
midnight. Unlike most naval engagements during the war, this battle was
harmless to either party. The heavier British ships feared to approach
within range, owing to a barrier of sunken vessels, covered by the guns
on shore and by gunboats. Without the heavy ships, the lighter vessels
could not maintain a position. The fort sustained no great injury, and
only four men were killed and twenty-four wounded.[285] The fleet as
far as was reported sustained no injury whatever. The firing ceased
toward midnight, and Admiral Cochrane sent word to Colonel Brooke that
he could do no more.[286]
“Under these circumstances,” reported Colonel Brooke, “and
keeping in view your Lordship’s instructions, it was agreed
between the Vice-admiral and myself that the capture of the town
would not have been a sufficient equivalent to the loss which
might probably be sustained in storming the heights.”
Sir George Prevost at Plattsburg only two days before, with three times
the number of troops and a much smaller number of opponents, came to
the same conclusion. That both officers were probably wise was shown
by the experience of Lieutenant-General Drummond, a month earlier,
in attempting to storm the lines of Fort Erie. Brooke and Prevost
followed the same course in another respect, for Brooke withdrew his
army so rapidly that at noon of September 14 it had already passed the
battle-field of two days before, and in another day the whole force was
re-embarked.[287]
As soon as the wind allowed, the fleet returned to the lower
Chesapeake; and September 19 Admiral Cochrane sailed for Halifax to
prepare for a new expedition. The troops remained till October 14 in
their transports in the bay, and then set sail for Jamaica, leaving
Virginia and Maryland to a long repose, which the vexed shores sorely
needed.