At length the column which formed the right of this army, nominally of

ten thousand men, having arrived at Sandusky with the park of

artillery, Gen. Harrison gave the order for the whole to move forward.

In three divisions, one from Sandusky, one from Fort McArthur, and the

third under General Winchester, from Fort Defiance, were to advance to

the Rapids of the Maumee, there take in their supply of ordnance and

provisions, and proceed at once to invest Malden. Harrison, commanding

the central division, started on the 31st of December. Gen.

Winchester, who had moved six miles from Fort Defiance, to Camp No. 3,

did not commence his march till the 8th of January. It was a cold

bitter day and the snow lay over two feet deep in the forest when that

doomed column, one thousand strong, set out for the Rapids,

twenty-seven miles distant. The troops, most of whom were Kentuckians,

were brave and hardy, and cheerfully harnessing themselves to sledges

dragged their baggage through the deep snow. Gen. Winchester was

ordered to fortify himself at the Rapids and wait the arrival of the

other troops. But three days after he reached the place, while

constructing huts to receive the supplies on the way, and sleds for

their transportation to Malden, he received an urgent request from the

inhabitants of Frenchtown, a small settlement nearly forty miles

distant, on the River Raisin, to come to their rescue. Feeling,

however, the importance of fulfilling his orders, he gave the

messengers no encouragement. But another express on the next day, and

a third the day after, telling him that the whole settlement was

threatened with massacre by the Indians--that only a small force of

the enemy held possession of the place, and by a prompt answer to

their prayer the ruin of all would be prevented, he called a council

of war. Col. Allen, and other gallant officers, pleaded the cause of

the helpless settlers with all the eloquence of true sympathy. They

declared that the chief object of the expedition was to protect the

frontiers from the merciless Indians, and that brave men spurned

danger when the prayers of women and children were sounding in their

ears. [Sidenote: Jan. 20.] Such appeals prevailed over the cooler and

safer arguments drawn from the necessity of not damaging the success

of the whole campaign by perilling one of the wings of the advancing

army, and a detachment of five hundred men, under Colonel Lewis was

sent forward to Presque Isle, there to await the arrival of the main

column. But this officer hearing at the latter place that an advance

party of French and Indians were already in possession of Frenchtown,

hurried forward, and the next day in the afternoon arrived on the

banks of the stream opposite the village. The river being frozen, he

immediately ordered the charge to be sounded. The column advanced

steadily across on the ice, and entering the village under a heavy

fire of the British, forced them from their position and soon drove

them to the woods, when darkness closed the combat. Two days after,

General Winchester arrived with a reinforcement of two hundred and

fifty men. He had sent a dispatch to Gen. Harrison, then on the Lower

Sandusky, announcing his departure from his orders, and asking for

reinforcements. [Sidenote: Jan. 23.] The latter sent forward a

detachment of three hundred, and followed himself the same day with a

corps of three hundred and sixty men. The assistance, however, came

too late, for on the day before they started, the fate of Gen.

Winchester's army was sealed. Gen. Proctor, at Malden, only eighteen

miles distant, hearing of Col. Lewis' advance on Frenchtown, hurried

down with about 1500 men and six pieces of artillery to attack him.

The latter had stationed the main force behind pickets, in the form of

a half circle, but the two hundred and fifty men who had arrived with

Gen. Winchester were, through some strange fatuity, placed outside,

four hundred yards distant, and wholly uncovered. Just as the drums

beat the morning reveille, Proctor advanced to the assault. The troops

came on steadily till within range of the Kentucky rifles, when they

were met by such a fierce and deadly fire that they wheeled and fled

in confusion.

But, while the attack in front was thus repulsed, that on the

unprotected left wing of two hundred and fifty men was, in a few

minutes, completely successful. Such a preposterous position, as that

to to which it was assigned, no sane man could dream of holding.

Outflanked, and almost surrounded by yelling Indians, its danger was

perceived when too late to remedy it. General Winchester and Colonel

Lewis, however, each with a detachment of fifty men, rushed forward to

the rescue, but they only swelled the disaster. Their followers were

cut down and tomahawked, and they themselves captured, and taken to

Proctor. The latter had paused after his attack on the pickets, for

nearly one-fourth of the regular troops had fallen in that one

assault, and he hesitated about exposing himself again to the deadly

fire of Kentucky rifles. It is very doubtful whether he would have

ventured on a second attack. He, however, represented to General

Winchester, that he could easily set the town on fire, and reduce the

garrison; but, in that case, he would not guarantee the lives of the

soldiers, or the inhabitants from the barbarity of the Indians.

General Winchester fully believing that the five hundred men, who

still gazed undauntedly on the foe, must be sacrificed, agreed to a

capitulation; and an officer was sent with a flag to Major Madison, on

whom the command had devolved, informing him of the unconditional

surrender of all the troops by his superior officer. The brave major,

who did not at all look upon himself and gallant band as vanquished

men, indignantly refused to obey so unworthy a summons, even from his

rightful commander, and coolly told the officer, "he should do no such

thing; nay, would not surrender at all, unless the side arms of the

officers would be restored to them at Amhertsburg, the wounded

promptly and securely transported to that post, and a guard sufficient

for their safety assigned them."[35] If the British commander refused

to grant these terms, he and his men would fight to the last, and, if

necessary, die with their arms in their hands. This proposition, to

which any officer fit to wear a sword would have cheerfully accepted,

Proctor at first rejected, and yielded at last only because no other

terms would be listened to. But no sooner did the garrison surrender,

than in direct violation of the conditions, he gave unbridled license

to the soldiers and Indians. The latter were allowed to scalp and

mutilate the dead and wounded, whose bleeding corpses crimsoned the

snow on every side. Proctor, fearing the approach of Harrison, made

all haste to depart, and the next night reached Amhertsburg with the

prisoners, who were there crowded into a "small and muddy wood yard,

and exposed throughout the night to a cold and constant rain, without

tents or blankets, and with only fire enough to keep them from

freezing." He had brutally left the dead at French town unburied, and

sixty of the wounded, who were too feeble to march, unprotected. By a

great stretch of kindness, he allowed two American surgeons to remain

and take care of them. He had promised to send sleds the next day, to

convey them to Malden. These never arrived; but, instead, there came a

party of his Indian allies, who tomahawked a portion of the wounded,

and then set fire to the houses, consuming the dead and dying

together, and responding to the shrieks of the suffering victims with

yells and savage laughter. Captain Hart, a relative of Henry Clay, was

among the number, as was also a member of Congress. Hart, and indeed a

large majority of them, belonged to the most respectable families of

Kentucky. One officer was scalped in presence of his friends, and with

the blood streaming down his pallid features, rose on his knees, and

silently and most piteously gazed on their faces. While in this

position, an Indian boy was told by his father to tomahawk him. The

unskilful stripling struck again and again, only producing faint

groans from the sufferer, till at length the father, in showing how a

blow should be planted, ended the tragedy. The secretary of General

Winchester was shot while on horseback, and scalped, and his body

stripped and cast into the road. The dead, to the number of two

hundred, were left unburied; and, for a long time after, hogs and dogs

were seen devouring the bodies, and running about crunching human

skulls and arms in their teeth. Most of these facts were sworn to

before a justice of the peace, and forwarded by Judge Woodward, of the

supreme court of Michigan, to Colonel Proctor, with the remark, "The

truth will undoubtedly eventually appear, and that unfortunate day

must meet the steady and impartial eye of history." General Harrison

was at the Rapids, hurrying on the reinforcements, when he heard of

the catastrophe. A few days after, he dispatched Dr. M'Kechen with a

flag of truce to the river Raisin, to pass thence, if possible, to

Malden. Seized by the Indians and stript, he was at length taken to

Captain Elliot, who kindly forwarded him to Colonel Proctor. The

latter denied his mission, declaring he was a spy, and would not

recognize him, in his official character, till the fifth of February.

Three weeks after, he was accused of carrying on a secret

correspondence with the Americans, and without the form of a trial

thrown into a filthy dungeon below the surface of the ground, where he

lay for a whole month, and was finally liberated, only to carry the

seeds of disease, implanted by this brutal treatment, to his grave.

[Footnote 35: Vide Armstrong's Notices of the War of 1812.]

When the news of this horrid massacre reached Kentucky, the State

was filled with mourning, for many of her noblest sons had fallen

victims to the savage. The Governor and his suite were in the

theatre at the time the disastrous tidings arrived in Frankfort. The

play was immediately stopped, the building deserted, and the next

morning a funereal sadness rested on the town, and the voice of

lamentation--like that which went up from Egypt when the first born

of every house was slain--arose from almost every dwelling. But amid

it all there was a smothered cry for vengeance, which never ceased

ringing over the State, until it was hushed in the shout of victory

that rose from the battle-field of the Thames.

Language has no epithets sufficiently opprobrious with which to stamp

this atrocious deed of Colonel Proctor. It combines all the inhuman

elements necessary to form a perfect monster--deceit, treachery,

falsehood, murder, and that refinement of cruelty which looks with

derision on slow torture, and the brutality which can insult the dead.

The very apologies which his countrymen made for him only blackened

his character. It was said that the prisoners surrendered at

discretion, and he never pledged his word for their protection--a

falsehood as afterwards fully proved by the prisoners, and a

statement, whether true or false, utterly useless, only to make the

whole transaction complete and perfect in every part. No man who was

sufficiently acquainted with honor to simulate it successfully, would

have attempted to cover an act so damning with such an excuse. The

annals of civilized warfare present no instance of the massacre and

torture of troops who have surrendered themselves prisoners of war on

a fair battle-field. An act like this, committed by a British officer

on the plains of Europe, sustained only by such an apology, would cost

him his head. Absolute inability, on the part of a commander to

protect his captives, is the only excuse a _man_ would ever offer.

This Proctor had not, for his allies were under his control and he

knew it. At all events he never attempted to save the prisoners. No

guard was left over the wounded, as he had stipulated to do--no

sleighs were sent back the next morning to fetch them to Fort Malden,

as promised--no effort whatever made in their behalf. He never

designed to keep his promises or fulfil his engagements--he had

abandoned the dead and wounded at Frenchtown to his savage allies, as

their part of the reward. Our troops frequently employed Indian

tribes, but no such atrocities were ever suffered to sully the

American flag. The whole transaction, from first to last, is black as

night. His deceit, treachery, cruelty to officers and men, neglect of

the dead and abandonment of the wounded to worse than death--his after

falsehood, meanness and cupidity are all natural and necessary parts

to the formation of a thoroughly base and brutal man. He was a

disgrace to his profession, a disgrace to the army and to the nation

which rewarded him for this act with promotion. His memory shall be

kept fresh while the western hemisphere endures, and the transaction

hold a prominent place in the list of dark deeds that stand recorded

against the English name. Just a month from this date three American

seamen went down in the Peacock, while nobly struggling to save the

prisoners. A few years before, some Turkish captives, in Egypt, being

paroled by Napoleon, were afterwards retaken in a desperate battle and

sentenced by a council of war to be shot. Although they had forfeited

their lives by the laws of all civilized nations, in thus breaking

their parole, and proved by their conduct that a second pardon would

simply be sending them as a reinforcement to the enemy, and though

Bonaparte only carried into execution the decision of a council of

war, yet for this act of his, English historians to this day heap

upon him the epithets of murderer and monster; while not the mere

murder, which would have been comparative kindness, but the

abandonment of American prisoners to slow torture by fire and the

scalping knife, was rewarded with promotion in the army.

The difficulties which our volunteers and new levies unaccustomed to

such hardships, had to contend with on the western frontier, may be

gathered from the march of the three hundred men dispatched to the aid

of Winchester, but who did not arrive till after the massacre.

Starting with twenty pieces of artillery, in a heavy snow storm, they

boldly pierced the wilderness, but made the first day only a short

march. The next day, a courier arrived toiling through snow and mud,

ordering the artillery to advance with all speed. But under the weight

of the heavy guns, the wheels sunk to their axles with every slow

revolution, and it was only by dint of great effort, they were got on

at all. After a weary day's march, they encamped around a blazing

fire, and were just making their scanty meal, when a messenger entered

the camp, stating, that Harrison had retreated from the Rapids. A

portion immediately resolved to push on to his help, and snatching a

few hours of repose, they, at two o'clock in the morning, tumbled up

from their couch of snow, and falling into marching order, hurried

forward through the gloom. To add to their discomfort and sufferings,

a January rain-storm had set in, making the whole surface one

yielding mass, into which they sunk sometimes to their waists.

Drenched to the skin with the pelting rain, stumbling and falling at

almost every step in the dissolving snow, they kept on, and at length

reached the black swamp, near Portage river. This was four miles

across, and was covered with a broad sheet of water as far as the eye

could reach. Out of the untroubled surface rose the trunks of sickly

looking and decayed trees, presenting amid the black and driving rain,

a spectacle sufficient to chill and benumb the most manly heart. Ice

was beneath, but of its strength, or of the depth below, no one could

tell. The soldiers, however, hurried forward into the water, and

though the rotten, treacherous ice under their feet would often give

way, letting them down, till their farther descent was arrested by

their arms; they kept intrepidly on, till, at length, the last mile

was won, and weary and staggering they emerged on the farther side.

Although on the whole route, there were but eight miles where they did

not sink below the knee, and often to the middle, this gallant band

accomplished thirty miles by night fall. Weary, dispirited and

benumbed, they then encamped, and without an axe, cooking utensils, or

a tent to cover them, sat down on logs, and having kindled a feeble

fire made their meagre repast. They then placed two logs together to

keep them from the melting snow, and lay in rows across them, exposed

to the pitiless storm. Next morning, they continued their march, and

effected a junction with the army.

To such hardships and exposures were the sons of gentlemen and farmers

subjected, in those disheartening northern campaigns which ended only

in failure.

While such scenes were transpiring in the north, there occurred one of

those events which form the romance and poetry of the American

wilderness. At this time, Michigan was an unbroken forest, with the

exception of Detroit, and a few settlements along the line of the

lakes, containing in all, but five or six thousand inhabitants. Ohio

had but 300,000, while 2,000 Indians still held their lands within its

limits. Thirteen thousand constituted the entire white population of

Illinois. These states, which now number by millions, were then almost

wholly unknown, except on the borders of the lakes and the Ohio river.

All through the interior, numerous tribes of Indians roamed

undisturbed, and hung, in black and threatening war clouds, around the

borders of civilization. The English had succeeded in exciting many of

these to hostilities against the settlers. Their efforts were aided in

a masterly manner by Tecumseh, a Shawnee warrior, who had imbibed a

bitter, undying hostility to the Americans. Brave, temperate,

scorning a lie, and despising the spoils of war, he fought to restore

his race to their ancient rights and power. Unable to cope with the

Americans alone, he gladly availed himself of our declaration of war

to form an alliance with the British. Lifted by native genius above

the vices of savages, he also exhibited a greatness of intellect, and

loftiness of character, which, in civilized life, would have led to

the highest renown. Despising the petty rivalries of tribes and

chiefs, he became absorbed in the grand idea of uniting all the Indian

clans in one great and desperate struggle for mastery with the whites.

He had succeeded in carrying out his scheme, to a great extent,

throughout the North and West. Of erect, athletic frame, noble,

commanding appearance, with the air of a king, and the eloquence of a

Demosthenes when rousing the Greeks to arms against Philip, he went

from tribe to tribe electrifying them with his appeals, and rousing

them to madness by his fiery denunciations against their oppressors.

His brother, the prophet, accompanied him,--a dark, subtle, cunning

impostor, to whose tricks Tecumseh submitted for awhile, because they

foiled the hatred and deceit of rival chiefs. As he arose before his

savage audiences, his imposing manner created a feeling of awe; but

when he kindled with his great subject, he seemed like one inspired.

His eye flashed fire, his swarthy bosom heaved and swelled with

imprisoned passion, his whole form dilated with excitement, and his

strong untutored soul poured itself forth in eloquence, wild,

headlong, and resistless, as the mountain torrent. Thoughts, imagery

leaped from his lips in such life and vividness that the stoicism of

the Indian vanished before them, and his statue-like face gleamed with

passion. The people he always carried with him; but the chiefs, who

feared his power over their followers, often thwarted his plans. When

not addressing the clans, he was reserved, cold, and haughty. His

withering sarcasm, when Proctor proposed to retreat from Malden; his

reply to the interpreter, who offering him a chair in the presence of

Harrison, said, "Your father wishes you to be seated;" "My father! the

sun is my father, and the earth my mother," as he stretched himself

proudly on the ground, reveal a nature conscious of its greatness, and

scorning the distinctions which the white man arrogated to himself.

After passing through the northern tribes, he took his brother, and

went south to the Creeks, to complete the plan of a general alliance.

The journey of nearly a thousand miles through the wilderness, of

these two brothers,--the discussion of their deep-laid scheme at night

around their camp-fire,--the day-dreams of Tecumseh, as gorgeous as

ever flitted before the imagination of a Caesar,--the savage empire

destined to rise under his hand, and the greatness he would restore

to his despised race, would make a grand epic. Pathless mountains and

gloomy swamps were traversed; deep rivers swam, and weariness and toil

endured, not for spoils or revenge, but to carry out a great idea.

There is a rude, Tuscan grandeur about him, as he thus moves through

the western wilderness impelled by a high purpose,--a barbaric

splendor thrown about even the merciless measures he means to adopt,

by the great moral scheme to which they are to be subject. His

combinations exhibited the consummate general. While England occupied

us along the sea-coast, he determined to sweep in one vast semi-circle

from Michilimackinac to Florida upon the scattered settlements. Fires

were to be kindled North and South, and West, to burn towards the

centre, while civilized warfare should desolate the eastern slope of

the Alleghanies. Tecumseh had seen Hull surrender, and knew that the

British had been victorious all along the frontier. His prospects were

brightening, and with this glorious news to back his burning

eloquence, he had no doubt of exciting the Southern tribes to war. The

Chickasaws and Choctaws in Mississippi, numbered over thirty thousand;

the Creeks twenty-five thousand, while south of them dwelt the large

and warlike tribe of the Seminoles. His chief mission was to the

Creeks, from whom, on his mother's side, he was descended. This

powerful clan stretched from the southern borders of Tennessee nearly

to Florida. The sun in his course looked on no fairer, richer land

than the country they held. Some of them had learned the arts of

civilization, and, hitherto, had evinced a friendly disposition

towards the whites. But British influence working through the Spanish

authorities in Florida, had already prepared them for Tecumseh's

visit. An alliance, offensive and defensive, had been formed between

England and Spain; and the armies of the former were then in the

Peninsula, endeavoring to wrest the throne from Bonaparte. The latter,

therefore, was bound to assist her ally on this continent, and so lent

her aid in exciting the Southern Indians to hostility.

The year before, General Wilkinson had been dispatched to take

possession of a corner of Louisiana, still claimed by the Spanish. He

advanced on Mobile, and seized without opposition the old fort of

Conde, built in the time of Louis the XIV. He here found abundant

evidence of the machinations of the Spanish and English. Runners had

been sent to the Seminoles and Creeks offering arms and bribes, if

they would attack the frontier settlements. But for this, Tecumseh,

with all his eloquence, might have failed. Co-operating with the

British agents in Florida, as he had done with Brock and Proctor in

Canada, he at length saw his cherished scheme about to be fulfilled.

The old and more peaceful,--those who had settled in well-built towns,

with schools, and flocks, and farms about them,--opposed the war which

would devastate their land, and drive them back to barbarism. But the

eloquence of Tecumseh, as he spoke of the multiplied wrongs of the

Indians, and their humiliation, described the glories to be won, and

painted in glowing colors the victories he had gained in the North,

kindled into a blaze the warlike feelings of the young; and soon

ominous tidings came from the bosom of the wilderness that stretched

along the Coosa and Talapoosa rivers. Having kindled the flames, he

again turned his footsteps northward.

Anxiety and alarm soon spread among the white settlers, and the

scattered families sought shelter in the nearest forts. Twenty-four

had thus congregated at Fort Mimms, a mere block-house, situated on

the Alabama, near the junction of the Tombigbee. It was garrisoned by

a hundred and forty men, commanded by Major Beasely, and, with proper

care, could have resisted the attacks of the savages. But the rumors

of a rising among the Indians were discredited. A negro who stated he

had seen them in the vicinity, was chastised for spreading a false

alarm. The night preceding the massacre, the dogs growled and barked,

showing that they scented Indians in the air. But all these warnings

were unheeded, when suddenly, in broad midday, the savages, some

seven hundred strong, made their appearance before the fort, and

within thirty feet of it, before they were discovered. The gate was

open, and with one terrific yell they dashed through into the outer

enclosure, driving the panic-stricken soldiers into the houses within.

Mounting these they set them on fire, and shot down every soul that

attempted to escape. Seeing, at once, their inevitable doom, the

soldiers fought with the energy of despair. Rushing madly on their

destroyers, they gave blow for blow, and laid sixty of them around the

burning buildings before they were completely overpowered. At last, a

yell of savage triumph rose over the crackling of flames, and cries

and shrieks of terrified women and children. Then followed a scene

which may not be described. The wholesale butchery,--the ghastly

spectacle of nearly three hundred mutilated bodies, hewed and hacked

into fragments, were nothing to the inhuman indignities perpetrated on

the women. Children were ripped from the maternal womb, and swung as

war-clubs against the heads of the mothers, and all those horrible

excesses committed, which seem the offspring of demons.

When Tecumseh reached again the British camp in Canada, he found the

American army at fort Meigs. Harrison, after Winchester's defeat,

instead of boldly pushing on in pursuit, had retreated. He was a brave

general, but lacked the energy and promptness necessary to an

efficient commander. Thus far these qualities seemed confined solely

to the English officers, leaving to ours the single one of caution.

Fort Meigs was erected on the Maumee, just above where it debouches

into Lake Erie. Here the army remained inactive, serving only as a

barrier to the Indians, who otherwise would have fallen on the Ohio

settlements, till the latter part of April. General Harrison employed

the winter in getting reinforcements from Ohio and Kentucky, and did

not reach the fort till the first of the month.

In the mean time, Proctor and Tecumseh had organized a large force for

its reduction. On the twenty-third, the sentinel on watch reported

that the boats of the enemy, in great numbers, were entering the mouth

of the river. The fort, at this time, contained about a thousand men,

and was well supplied with every thing necessary for a long and stout

defence, while twelve hundred Kentuckians, under General Clay, were

marching to its relief.

Finding the fortifications too strong to be carried by assault,

Proctor sat down before them in regular siege. The light troops and

Indians were thrown across the river, and heavy batteries erected on

the left bank. A well-directed cannonade from the fort so annoyed the

besiegers, that they were compelled to perform most of their work by

night. The garrison, at first, suffered very little, except from

scarcity of water. The well in the fort having dried up, they were

compelled to draw their supply from the river. But the men detailed

for this purpose, were constantly picked off by skulking Indians, who

becoming emboldened by success gradually drew closer around the

besieged; and climbing into tall trees, and concealing themselves in

the thick foliage, rained their balls into the works. On the first of

May, Proctor having completed his batteries, opened his fire. He sent,

also, a summons to surrender, which was scornfully rejected by

Harrison, who maintained a brisk cannonade for four days, when the

welcome intelligence was received, that Clay with his twelve hundred

Kentuckians was close at hand. Harrison determined, at once, to raise

the siege, and dispatched a messenger to him, to land eight hundred

men on the left bank of the river, and carry the batteries erected

there by storm, and spike the guns; while the remaining four hundred

should keep down the right bank towards the batteries, against which

he would make a sortie from the fort. The eight hundred were placed

under Colonel Dudley, who crossing the river in good order, advanced

fiercely on the batteries and swept them. Flushed with the easy

victory, and burning to revenge their comrades massacred at river

Raisin, the men refused to halt and spike the guns, but drove

furiously on after the flying troops, or turned aside to fight the

Indians, who clung to the forest. In the mean time, Proctor, aroused

by this unexpected onset, hastened up from his camp a mile and a half

below with reinforcements, and rallied the fugitives. At this critical

moment, Tecumseh also joined him, with a large body of Indians. These

advancing against the disordered Kentuckians, drove them back on the

river. The latter fought bravely, but discipline and numbers told too

heavily against them, and but one hundred and fifty of these gallant,

but imprudent men reached the farther bank in safety. Colonel Dudley

while struggling nobly to repair the error they had committed in

refusing to obey his orders, fell mortally wounded. The small, but

disciplined band of three hundred and fifty, led by Colonel Miller, of

the nineteenth infantry, against the batteries on the right bank,

carried them with the bayonet, and spiking the guns returned with

forty-two prisoners.

The two succeeding days, the armies remained inactive. In the mean

time, the Indians began to return home in large numbers; and Proctor

deserted by his savage allies, resolved to abandon the siege.

Embarking his heavy ordnance and stores under a galling fire from the

fort, he made a hasty and disorderly retreat down the river. The loss

of the Americans during the siege, was two hundred and seventy men

killed and wounded, exclusive of the destruction of a large portion of

Clay's command. That of the British was much less, so that although

the attack on the fort had failed, the Americans were by far the

heaviest sufferers.

Harrison leaving the fort in command of Colonel Clay, repaired to

Franklinton, the place appointed for the rendezvous of the regiments

newly raised in Ohio and Kentucky. In the mean time, a deputation of

all the friendly Indian tribes in Ohio waited on him, offering their

services in the approaching conflict on the borders. They were

accepted on the conditions, they should not massacre their prisoners,

or wage war against women and children.

After Harrison's departure, Proctor again appeared before Fort Meigs.

But finding it well garrisoned, he did not attempt another attack; but

taking five hundred regulars and a horde of Indians, seven hundred in

number, suddenly appeared before Fort Stephenson in Lower Sandusky.

[Sidenote: Aug. 1.] Major Croghan, a young man only twenty-one years

of age, held the post, with but a hundred and sixty men. He had only

one cannon, a six pounder, while the fortifications having been

hastily constructed, were not strong enough to resist artillery.

Knowing this, and the smallness of Croghan's force, Harrison had

previously ordered him to destroy the works, and retire on the

approach of the enemy. But this was impossible, for Proctor took

measures at once to cut off his retreat. When this was accomplished,

he sent a flag demanding the immediate surrender of the place, saying,

if the garrison resisted, they would be given up to massacre. This

mere stripling, not old enough to be frightened, like Hull and

Wilkinson, coolly replied, that when he got possession of the fort,

there would be none left to massacre. River Raisin was fresh in his

memory, and lay not far off; but neither the fear of Indian

barbarities, nor the dark array, ten times his number, closing

steadily upon him, could shake his gallant young heart. He was such

stuff as heroes are made of.

This was on Sunday evening, and immediately after receiving the bold

answer of Croghan, Proctor opened on the fort from his gun boats, and

a howitzer on shore. The cannonading was kept up all night, lighting

up the forest scenery with its fire, and knocking loudly on that

feeble fort for admission. At day break, Croghan saw that the enemy

had planted three sixes within two hundred and fifty yards of the

fort. Against this battery, he could reply with only his single gun,

whose lonely report seemed a burlesque on the whole affair. Finding

that Proctor concentrated his fire against the north-western angle, he

strengthened it with bags of flour and sand. The firing was kept up

till late in the afternoon, when seeing that but little impression

was made on the works, Proctor resolved to carry them by storm, and a

column, five hundred strong, was sent against them. With undaunted

heart, young Croghan saw it approach, while his little band, proud of

their heroic leader, closed firmly around him, swearing to stand by

him to the last. Some time previously, a ditch six feet deep and nine

feet wide had been dug in front of the works, and the six pounder,

loaded with slugs and grape, was now placed, so as to rake that part

of it where it was conjectured the enemy would cross. Colonel Short

commanded the storming column, which he led swiftly forward to the

assault. As it came within range, a well directed volley of musketry

staggered it for a moment, but Colonel Short rallying them, leaped

first into the ditch, crying out, "Give the d--d Yankees no quarter."

In a moment, the ditch was red with scarlet uniforms. At that instant,

the six pounder was fired. A wild shriek followed, and when the smoke

cleared away, that section of the column which had entered the ditch

lay stretched on the bottom, with their leader among them. The

remainder started back aghast at such sudden and swift destruction,

but being rallied they again advanced, only to be swept away. All

efforts to rally them the third time, were fruitless; they fled first

to the woods, and then to their boats, and next morning before

daybreak disappeared altogether. This garrison of striplings had

behaved nobly, and notwithstanding the brutal order of the British

commander to give no quarter, exhibited that humanity without which

bravery is not a virtue. Moved with pity at the groans and prayers for

help from those who lay wounded in the ditch, they, not daring to

expose themselves outside in presence of the enemy, handed over the

pickets during the night, jugs, and pails of water to allay the fever

of thirst; and made a hole through which they pulled with kindly

tenderness many of the wounded, and carried them to the surgeon. These

men knew that, if the attack had proved successful, not one would have

been left to tell how they fought, or how they fell, yet this

consciousness did not deaden, for a moment, the emotions of pity. This

generosity and kindness have always characterized the American

soldier, from the commencement of our national existence. The

merciless warfare inflicted by England through the savages during the

revolution, could not make him forget his humanity; nor the haughty,

insulting conduct of English officers in this second war, force him to

throw aside his kind and generous feelings.

This attack closed, for the time, the efforts of Proctor to get

possession of our forts, and he retired with his savage allies to

Detroit. Our whole western frontier was now in a most deplorable

condition. Instead of carrying the war into the enemy's country, we

had been unable to protect our own borders. Notwithstanding the

repulse at Fort Meigs, the savages still hung around our settlements,

making frequent and successful dashes upon them; while the powerful

tribe of the Osages lying west of the Mississippi, threatened to come

into Tecumseh's grand scheme, for the extermination of the whites.

Forts Madison and Mason were evacuated, leaving Fort Howard, only

forty miles above St. Louis, our most northern post on the

Mississippi.

CHAPTER VIII.

Chauncey ordered to Lake Erie to build a fleet -- A plan of

the campaign -- Woolsey -- Attack on York -- Death of

General Pike -- His character -- Capture of Fort George --

Gallantry of Scott -- Repulse of the British at Sackett's

Harbor by General Brown -- Dearborn pursues Vincent -- Night

attack on the American encampment -- Generals Winder and

Chandler taken prisoners -- Retreat of the army --

Reinforced by General Lewis -- Dearborn at Fort George --

Defeat of Colonel Boestler at Beaver Dams -- Attack on Black

Rock -- Dearborn withdrawn from the command of the northern

army.

While Harrison was pushing forward his winter campaign, Dearborn

remained quietly in winter quarters, but soon as he saw the river St.

Lawrence clear of ice, he prepared to renew his invasion of Canada.

Armstrong having resigned the post of minister to France, was

appointed Secretary of War in place of Eustis. Being an officer of

distinction, it was thought he would throw more energy into the war

department, than his predecessor. His plan of the campaign was simple,

and if prosecuted with energy, promised success. Dearborn was to

concentrate his forces at the mouth of the Niagara river, and fall

successively on Kingston, York, and Fort George, thus cutting off all

communication between Montreal and Upper Canada. To carry this out

successfully, naval superiority on the lake, for the safe

transmission of troops and ordnance, was indispensable. From the

commencement of the war, the only vessel of any pretension which the

United States had on lake Ontario was the Oneida, of sixteen guns,

commanded by Lieutenant, afterwards Commodore Woolsey. This gallant

officer managed to preserve his ship, notwithstanding the great

efforts of the enemy to get possession of it, beating off, in one

instance, while lying in Sackett's Harbor, six British armed vessels.

At this time, a vast forest fringed the southern shore of Ontario.

With the exception of here and there a clearing, Sackett's Harbor

containing some half a dozen miserable houses, and Oswego not much

larger, were the only settlements on the American side, while strong

forts and old towns lined the Canada shore. This large body of water,

the control of which was of such vast consequence to the protection of

New York state, could be reached from the Hudson, two hundred miles

distant, only by highways nearly impassable, except in midsummer and

winter. But, whatever difficulties might attend the attempt to build

and man vessels of war on those remote waters, it was evident that

until it was made, all movements against Canada must prove abortive.

Captain Isaac Chauncey was, therefore, ordered thither the summer

previous, to take command, and build and equip vessels. [Sidenote:

1812.] He arrived in Sackett's Harbor in October, with forty

carpenters, and a hundred officers and seamen. To control the lake in

the mean time, he purchased and armed several American schooners. With

these, he on the eighth of November set sail, and soon after chased

the Royal George under the guns of the fort at Kingston, and there

maintained a spirited contest for half an hour. After various

skirmishes with the enemy, he at length returned to Sackett's Harbor,

and spent the winter in building vessels. [Sidenote: Nov. 26.] In the

mean time, the Madison, of twenty-four guns, had been completed and

launched. Nine weeks before, her hull and spars were growing in the

forest. By spring, when Dearborn was ready to commence operations,

Chauncey had a snug little fleet under his command, composed of the

Madison, Oneida, and eleven armed schooners.

It having been ascertained that three British vessels were getting

ready for sea at York, it was resolved to destroy them. The original

plan, therefore, of commencing the campaign by an attack on Kingston,

was by the recommendation of Chauncey changed, and the former place

designated as the first point of attack.

This fleet of thirteen sail could carry but 1700 men. With these

Chauncey, at length, set sail, and on the twenty-fifth of April,

anchored off York. Although it blew a gale from the eastward, the

boats were hoisted out, and the landing of the troops under General

Pike was commenced. The wind carried the boats west of the place

designated, which was an open field, to a thickly wooded shore, filled

with Indians and sharp shooters. Major Forsythe with a corps of

rifles, in two batteaux, first approached the shore. Assailed by a

shower of balls, he commanded the rowers to rest on their oars and

return the fire. General Pike, who was standing on the deck of his

vessel, no sooner saw this pause, than he exclaimed to his staff with

an oath, "I can't stand here any longer; come, jump into the boat."

Ordering the infantry to follow at once, he leaped into a boat, and

with his staff was quickly rowed into the hottest of the fire. Moving

steadily forward amid the enemy's balls, he landed a little distance

from Forsythe. The advance boats containing the infantry reaching the

shore at the same time, he put himself at the head of the first

platoon he met, and ordered the whole to mount the bank and charge.

Breasting the volleys that met them, the Americans with loud cheers

scaled the bank, and routed the enemy. At that moment, the sound of

Forsythe's bugles was heard ringing through the forest. This completed

the panic, and the frightened savages, with a loud yell, fled in all

directions. The landing of the remaining troops, under cover of the

well directed fire of Chauncey's vessels, was successfully made.

Captains Scott and Young led the van, and with the fifteenth regiment,

under command of Major King, covered themselves with honor. The troops

were then formed in sections, and passing through the woods, advanced

towards the fort. The bridges having been destroyed over the streams

that intersected the road, only one field piece and a howitzer could

be carried forward to protect the head of the column, which at length

came under the fire of a battery of twenty-four pounders. Captain

Walworth, of the sixteenth, was ordered to advance with trailed

bayonets at the charge step, and storm this battery. Moving rapidly

across the intervening space, this gallant company approached to

within a short distance of the guns, when at the word, "recover

charge," the enemy deserted their pieces and fled. The column then

continued to move on up a gentle ascent, and soon silenced the

remaining battery, and took possession of the works. But just at this

moment, when a flag of surrender was momentarily expected, a magazine

containing five hundred barrels of powder, exploded with terrific

violence. Huge stones, fragments of shivered timber, and blackened

corpses were hurled heavenward together, and came back in a murderous

shower on the victorious column. Forty of the enemy, and more than two

hundred Americans were killed or wounded by the explosion. The army

was stunned for a moment, but the band striking up Yankee Doodle, the

rent column closed up with a shout, and in five minutes was ready to

charge. General Pike at the time of the explosion was sitting on the

stump of a tree, whither he had just removed a wounded British

soldier. Crushed by the falling fragments, he together with a British

sergeant, who had been taken prisoner, and Captain Nicholson, was

mortally wounded. Turning to his aid, he exclaimed, "I am mortally

wounded." As the surgeons and aid were bearing him from the field, he

heard the loud huzzas of his troops. Turning to one of his sergeants,

he with an anxious look mutely inquired what it meant. The officer

replied, "_The British Union Jack is coming down and the stars are

going up._" The dying hero heaved a sigh, and smiled even amid his

agony. He was carried on board the commodore's ship, and the last act

of his life was to make a sign, that the British flag which had been

brought to him should be placed under his head.

[Illustration: Death of Pike.]

Thus fell one of the noblest officers in the army. Kind, humane, the

soul of honor and of bravery, he was made after the model of the

knights of old. His father had fought in the war of the Revolution,

and though too old to serve, was still an officer in the army. In a

letter to his father, dated the day before the expedition, he, after

stating its character, said: "Should I be the happy mortal destined

to turn the scale of war--will you not rejoice, O, my father? May

heaven be propitious, and smile on the cause of my country. But if we

are destined to fall, may my fall be like Wolfe's--to sleep in the

arms of victory." His prayer was answered, and the country mourned the

loss of a gallant officer, a pure patriot, and a noble man.

Colonel Pearce, on whom the command devolved after the fall of Pike,

took possession of the barracks and then advanced on the town. As he

approached he was met by the officers of the Canadian militia,

proposing a capitulation. This was done to produce a delay, so that

the English commander, General Sheaffe, with the regulars could

escape, and the vessels and military stores be destroyed. The plan was

successful, the regular troops made good their retreat, one magazine

of naval and military stores was burned, together with two of the

vessels undergoing repairs. The third had sailed for Kingston a short

time before the attack.

Owing to the explosion of the magazine the loss of the Americans was

severe, amounting to three hundred killed and wounded. Notwithstanding

the exasperation of the victors at the wanton, and as they supposed

premeditated destruction of life, they treated the inhabitants with

kindness and courtesy. Such had been the strict orders of their

commander before his death. The only violence committed was the

burning of the house of Parliament, and this was owing, doubtless, to

the fact that a scalp was found suspended over the speaker's mace. The

sight of an American scalp, hanging as a trophy in a public building,

would naturally exasperate soldiers, whose friends and relatives had

fallen beneath the knife of the savage.[36]

[Footnote 36: Major Eustis, Captains Scott, Walworth, M'Glarpin, Young

and Moore, and Lieutenants Irvine, Fanning and Riddle, behaved with

great gallantry in the engagement.]

The troops were at once re-embarked, for the purpose of proceeding

immediately to Niagara, but owing to foul weather they were a week on

the way. At length, being reinforced by troops from Sackett's Harbor

and Buffalo, Dearborn, with some five thousand men, sailed for Fort

George. This fort was situated on a peninsula, which it commanded.

Dearborn resolved to make the landing in six divisions of boats, under

cover of the fire of the armed schooners. The first division,

containing five hundred men, was commanded by Winfield Scott, who

volunteered for the service, followed by Colonel Porter with the field

train. The gallant Perry offered to superintend the landing of the

boats, which had to be effected under a heavy fire and through an ugly

surf. The 27th of May, early in the morning, the debarkation began,

and soon the boats, in separate divisions, were moving towards the

shore. Fifteen hundred British lined the bank, which rose eight or ten

feet from the water. Scott rapidly forming his men under the plunging

fire of these, shouted, "Forward!" and began to scale the ascent. But,

pressed by greatly superior numbers, they were at length borne

struggling back. Dearborn, who was standing on the deck of Chauncey's

vessel, watching the conflict through his glass, suddenly saw Scott,

while waving his men on, fall heavily back down the steep. Dropping

his glass he burst into tears, exclaiming: "_He is lost!--He is

killed!_" The next moment, however, Scott sprang to his feet again,

and shouting to his men, he with a rapid and determined step remounted

the bank, and, unscathed by the volley that met him, knocked up with

his sword the bayonets leveled at his breast, and stepped on the top.

Crowding furiously after, the little band sent up their shout around

him, on the summit. Dressing his line under the concentrated fire of

the enemy, Scott then gave the signal to charge. The conflict was

fierce but short; the British line was rent in twain, and the

disordered ranks were driven over the field. Scott, seizing a

prisoner's horse, mounted and led the pursuit.

Fort George was abandoned, and the garrison streamed after the

defeated army. They, however, set fire to the train of the magazines

before they left. This was told to Scott, and he instantly returned

with two companies to save them. Before he could arrive, one magazine

exploded, sending the fragments in every direction. A piece of timber

struck him on the breast, and hurled him from his horse. Springing to

his feet he shouted, "To the gate!" Rushing on the gate, they tore it

from its hinges and poured in--Scott was the first to enter, and

ordering the brave Captains Hindman and Stockton to extinguish the

matches, he ran forward and pulled down the flag. Quickly re-mounting

his horse he put himself at the head of his column and pressed

fiercely after the enemy, chasing the fugitives for five miles, and

halted, only because commanded to do so by Colonel Boyd, in person. He

had already disobeyed two orders to stop the pursuit, and had he not

been arrested by his superior officer in person, would soon have been

up with the main body of the British.

The loss of the enemy in this short but spirited combat was two

hundred and fifty killed and wounded and one hundred prisoners, while

that of the Americans was only seventy-two.

The British army, under Gen. Vincent, retreated towards Burlington

Heights, followed soon after by General Winder, with eight hundred

men.

But while Chauncey and Dearborn were thus destroying the forts on the

Niagara, Sir George Provost made a sudden descent on Sackett's Harbor.

The protection of this place was of vital importance to us. Here was

our naval depot--here our ship yard with vessels on the stocks, and in

fact, this was the only available port on the lake for the

construction and rendezvous of a fleet. Yet the garrison left to

protect it consisted of only two hundred and fifty dragoons under

Lieutenant Colonel Backus, Lieutenant Fanning's artillery, two hundred

invalid soldiers and a few seamen, making in all some five hundred

men. Two days after the capture of Fort George, the fleet of Sir James

Yeo, carrying a thousand men, commanded by Provost, appeared off the

harbor. Alarm guns were instantly fired and messengers dispatched to

General Brown, who resided eight miles distant at Brownville, to

collect the militia and hasten to the defence of the place. The year

before Brown had joined the army and been appointed brigadier-general

in the militia, but at the close of the campaign, being disgusted with

its management and disgraceful termination, he retired to his farm.

His heart, however, was in the struggle, and the courier sent from

Sackett's Harbor had scarcely finished his message, before he was on

his horse and galloping over the country. Rallying five or six hundred

militia he hastened to the post of danger. He was one of those whom

great exigences develop. Brave, prudent, resolute, and rock fast in

his resolution, he was admirably fitted for a military leader, while

by his daring and gallant behavior, he acquired great influence over

raw troops. Acquainted with all the localities and resources of the

place, he at the request of Lieutenant Backus readily assumed the

command. A breastwork was hastily erected on the only spot where a

landing could be effected, and the militia placed behind it. The

regulars formed a second line near the barracks and public buildings,

while Fanning, with the artillerists, held the fort proper, and

Lieutenant Chauncey, with his men, defended the stores at Navy Point.

The night of the 28th passed in gloomy forebodings. The troops slept

on their arms, and Brown and his officers passed the hours in silently

and cautiously reconnoitering the shores of the lake. That little

hamlet embosomed in the vast primeval forest that stretched away on

either side along the water's edge and closed darkly over the solitary

highway that led to the borders of civilization, presented a lonely

aspect. As hour after hour dragged heavily by, every ear was bent to

catch the muffled sound of the enemy's sweeps, but only the wind

soughing through the tree-tops and the monotonous dash of waves on the

beach disturbed the stillness of the scene. But as the long looked for

dawn began to streak the water, the fleet of British boats were

observed rapidly pulling towards the breastwork. Brown bade the

militia reserve their fire till the enemy were within pistol shot, and

then deliver it coolly and accurately. They did so, and the first

volley checked the advance of the boats. After the second volley,

however, the militia were seized with a sudden panic, and broke and

fled. Colonel Mills, who commanded the volunteers, was shot while

bravely attempting to arrest the disorder. Brown succeeded in stopping

some ninety of them, whom he posted on a line with the regulars. The

British having landed, formed in good order, and moved steadily

forward on this little band of regulars. The latter never wavered, but

maintained their ground with stubborn resolution, and as they were

gradually forced back by superior numbers, took possession of the

barracks, behind which they maintained a rapid and galling fire.

Backus had fallen, mortally wounded, and Lieutenant Fanning was also

severely wounded, but he still clung to his gun and directed its fire

with wonderful accuracy. Finding the troops able to maintain their

position for some time yet, Brown exhorted them to hold firm while he

endeavored to rally the fugitive militia. Riding up to them, he

rebuked and entreated them by turns, until, at last, when he told them

how courageously and nobly the strangers were defending the homes they

had basely abandoned to pillage, they promised to return and do their

duty. Not daring, however, to trust men in an open attack who had

just fled from a breastwork, although he solemnly swore he would cut

down the first that faltered, he led them by a circuitous route along

the edge of the forest, as if he designed to seize the boats and cut

off the enemy's retreat. The stratagem succeeded, and the British made

a rush for their boats, leaving their killed and wounded behind.

Having lost, in all, between four and five hundred men, they dared not

venture on a second attack, and withdrew, humbled and mortified, to

the Canada shore. The American loss was about one hundred.

The successful defence of Sackett's Harbor following so quickly the

capture of Forts York and George, promised well for the summer

campaign. But disasters soon checked the rising hopes of the nation.

General Winder, who had started in pursuit of Vincent, found, on his

arrival at Forty Mile Creek, that the enemy had been reinforced.

Halting here, therefore, he dispatched a messenger to Dearborn for

more troops. General Chandler, with another brigade, was sent, when

the whole force was put in motion, and crossing Stony Creek, arrived

at night-fall, within a short distance of the British encampment. Here

the army halted, preparatory to an attack the next morning. General

Vincent, although greatly inferior in numbers, felt that his future

success depended entirely on his retaining his present position, and,

therefore, resolved to hazard a second battle. But, having, by a

careful reconnoissance, discovered that the American camp guards were

scattered and careless, while the whole encampment was loose and

straggling, he immediately changed his plan, and determined to make a

bold and furious night onset, and endeavor by one well-directed blow

to break the American army in pieces. Following up this determination,

he, with seven hundred men, set out at midnight, and arriving at three

o'clock in the morning at the American pickets silently and adroitly

captured every man before he could give the alarm. Pressing with the

main column directly for the centre of the encampment, he burst with

the appalling war-cry of the savage on the astonished soldiers. The

artillery was surrounded, and several pieces, with one hundred men,

were taken prisoners, and among them the two generals, Winder and

Chandler. General Vincent having lost his column in the darkness, the

second in command ignorant what course to pursue, or what to do,

concluded to retreat with his trophies. The attack had been well

planned and boldly carried out, and but for the blunder made by

Vincent would no doubt have been completely successful. As it was the

loss was nearly equal; so that the American army was still in a good

condition to take the initial and advance. But the command devolving

on Colonel Burns, a cavalry officer, who declared he was incompetent

to direct infantry movements, a retreat was resolved upon. The army

arriving at Forty Mile Creek, a messenger was despatched to Dearborn,

asking for orders. General Lewis, with the sixth regiment, was

immediately sent forward, with directions to engage the enemy at once.

An hour after his arrival at camp the British fleet was seen slowly

beating up abreast of it. A schooner was towed near the shore and

opened its fire, but Lieutenant Eldridge, heaving a few hot shot into

her, compelled her to withdraw. In the mean time, some vessels

appearing off Fort George, Dearborn conjectured that an attack upon

him was meditated, and recalled this division of the army. The boats,

however, sent to bring them, were overtaken by an armed schooner, and

many of them captured.

After these catastrophes Dearborn remained at Fort George an entire

fortnight, wholly inactive. The British, on the other hand, made

diligent use of this interval, in taking possession of mountain

passes, and thus accomplished the double purpose of securing their own

position and narrowing the limits of Dearborn's possessions, and

destroying his communication. The latter, at length, being aroused to

the danger in which these posts placed him, despatched Col. Boestler,

with six hundred men, to break up one of them, seventeen miles

distant. Acting under wrong information, this small detachment arrived

without molestation at Beaverdams, within two miles of the "Stone

House" where the enemy had fortified themselves. But here they were

suddenly surrounded by a body of British and Indians, and a conflict

ensued. Believing it impossible to effect a safe retreat through the

forest, pressed by such a force, Colonel Boestler surrendered his

whole detachment prisoners of war. This ended Dearborn's campaign, and

his military services. Colonel Bishop, who showed great activity in

carrying out the plan of the British commander, finding Fort Erie

ungarrisoned, took possession of it, and crossing suddenly to Black

Rock, with 250 men, drove out the militia and destroyed the guns and

stores. But the news reaching Buffalo, a few regulars, together with

some militia and friendly Indians hastened to the fort and expelled

the invaders, killing their commander.

The successful attacks on York and Fort George had removed much of the

odium with which the disasters of the previous years had covered

Dearborn, and great results were expected from so brilliant an opening

of the campaign. But his after inaction and efforts ending only in

failure, disgusted the people and Congress. Broken down by disease and

demoralized by their long camp life, the soldiers but poorly

represented the vigor and energy of the republic. Dearborn, like the

other generals, received all the blame that properly attached to him,

together with that which belonged to the Government, and when the news

of Boestler's defeat arrived in Washington, the House of

Representatives was thrown into a state of indignant excitement. Mr.

Ingersoll was deputed to wait on the President and demand Dearborn's

removal, as Commander-in-Chief of the Western army. The request was

granted, and on the 15th of July he resigned his command. He had

accomplished, literally nothing, in two campaigns, and though he was

surrounded with difficulties, crippled, and rendered cautious by the

indifferent and unsuitable troops under his command, yet, after making

a large allowance for all, there is margin wide enough to secure his

condemnation. His materials became worse instead of better under his

management, and the prospects on our northern border grew gloomier the

longer he held command. The energy and vigor of his younger days were

gone, and the enfeebled commander of 1812 was a very different man

from the daring and gallant officer of the Revolution. He had stood on

the deck of his vessel and seen Pike carry York, and young Scott Fort

George with mere detachments. He had witnessed the bravery of his

troops under gallant officers, and it needed only energy and activity

in himself to have made the army the pride of the nation.

[Sidenote: 1813.]

Colonel Boyd assumed the command till the arrival of Wilkinson in

September, but with the exception of some skirmishing, the summer

passed away in inactivity.

The British, by capturing two American sloops that ventured into a

narrow part of the lake, near the garrison of Aux Noix, obtained

command of this water communication, which they held the remainder of

the season.

CHAPTER IX.

SECOND SESSION OF THE TWELFTH CONGRESS.

Army bill -- Quincy and Williams -- Debate on the bonds of

merchants given for British goods imported in contravention

of the non-importation act -- Debate on the bills increasing

the army to 55,000 men -- Williams' report -- Quincy's

attack -- Clay's rejoinder -- Randolph, Calhoun, Quincy,

Lowndes and Clay -- State of the Treasury.

The members of Congress, when they assembled in October, did not

exchange those congratulations they promised each other at their

adjournment, after declaring war. Every plan had proved abortive,

every expectation been disappointed. True, the gallant little navy was

left to fall back on. Its successes, however, did not reflect much

credit on their sagacity, but rather by returning good for evil, had

administered a severe rebuke to their neglect. The Federalists could

claim the chief honor there, and make both the victories on the sea

and defeats on land the grounds of attack. They had always said leave

Canada alone and go to the sea, there is the proper theatre for your

exploits. Results had shown the wisdom of their counsels. The army had

accomplished nothing, still its skeleton ranks must be filled. A bill

was therefore introduced, increasing the pay of the soldiers from six

to eight dollars per month, and making their persons secure from

arrest for debt, in order to tempt recruits into the service. They

were allowed also to enlist either for five years or for the war.

[Sidenote: Nov. 20.] A clause inserted in this bill, giving minors and

apprentices, over eighteen, permission to enlist without the consent

of their parents and masters, fell like a bomb-shell in the House.

This was striking at the very foundation of social and domestic

life--viz., parental authority--and putting a premium on disobedience

and rebellion. [Sidenote: 1812.] It furnished a new outlet for Mr.

Quincy's wrath, who declared that if Congress dared apply it in New

England the people would resist it, with the laws against kidnapping

and stealing. He said it was odious and atrocious, unequalled, absurd,

and immoral. Mr. Williams replied, that Great Britain allowed

enlistments over sixteen, as did our Government in the Revolutionary

War--nay, that this very clause passed in 1798, which became a law.

[Sidenote: Dec. 3.] Another exciting debate sprung up relative to the

bonds of the merchants for British goods lately imported in

contravention of the non-importation law. This law, it will be

remembered, was passed in March, 1811, in retaliation for the orders

in council, and was to cease with the revocation of those orders.

Before the news of the declaration of war arrived in England they

were revoked, and American owners supposing the non-importation act

would fall with it, immediately took in cargoes of British goods.

These were allowed to depart, as well as others in process of landing,

and provided with licenses to protect them against British cruisers.

Thus a vast amount of merchandise arrived in the various ports of the

United States during the first two or three months of the war. The

non-importation act being still in force, these goods were seized as

forfeited to the Government. Still many of the district judges

surrendered them to the claimants on their giving bonds to the amount

of their value. As under the non-importation law half the value of the

forfeited goods belonged to the informer, Gallatin proposed that, as

in this case there was no informer, that portion should be given to

the owners, and the Government put the other half, amounting to nine

millions, in the public treasury. This proposal was advocated by some

and strenuously opposed by others. [Sidenote: Dec. 30.] After a

vehement debate, extending through several sittings, all the penalties

of the merchants were finally remitted.

Another debate, still more exciting, followed on the army bill. This

bill contained provisions for raising twenty thousand men for one

year, increased bounty enlistments to sixteen dollars, and appointed

an officer to do all the recruiting. [Sidenote: Dec. 27.] Mr.

Williams, chairman of the committee on military affairs, introduced

it with an able speech. After showing that the country demanded such

an augmentation of the army, making the entire regular force 55,000,

and defending the increased bounty and appointment of a special

officer for the recruiting service, he alluded to the disastrous issue

of Hull's campaign. Said he, "there are those, perhaps, who can sneer

at the disasters and misfortunes of the late campaign, and will object

to this bill, saying there is no encouragement to vote additional

forces, seeing that those which have been already raised have been so

idly employed. It becomes us all to be equally faithful to our

country, whether victorious or not; it is in times of discomfiture

that the patriot's resolution and virtues are most needed. It is no

matter by what party names we are distinguished, this is our

country--we are children of the same family, and ought to be brothers

in a common cause. The misfortune which befalls one portion should

sink deep into the breasts of the others also."

[Sidenote: Jan. 5, 1813.]

Mr. Clay congratulated the committee and the nation on the report

that had been made. Mr. Quincy, who saw in every proposition for

replenishing the army, a project for conquering Canada, opposed the

bill. Assuming that to be the object in view, he assailed it with

all that sarcasm and abuse for which he was distinguished. In the

first place, he said, we could not conquer Canada; in the second

place, if we could, it would be a barren triumph. It would not bring

peace nor be of any advantage to the country. He denounced it as

cruel and barbarous, declaring it was not owing to the Government,

that at that moment the bones of the Canadians were not mixed with

the ashes of their habitations. Said he, "Since the invasion of the

buccaneers, there is nothing like this war. We have heard great

lamentations about the disgrace of our arms on the frontier. Why,

sir, the disgrace of our arms on the frontier is terrestrial glory

in comparison with the disgrace of the attempt! The whole atmosphere

rings with the utterance, from the other side of the house, of this

word, glory! glory! What glory? The glory of the tiger which lifts

its jaws all foul and bloody from the bowels of his victim, and

roars for his companions of the forest to come and witness his

prowess and his spoils--the glory of Zenghis Khan, without his

greatness--the glory of Bonaparte." He asked the members if they

supposed the vagabonds who should conquer Canada would, when their

aim was accomplished, heed the orders of Government. No! they would

obey the "choice spirits" placed over them, who in turn would not

consult spinsters and weavers, but take counsel from their leader

what next they shall do. "Remember," said he, "remember, I warn you,

he who plants the American standard on the walls of Quebec, plants

it for himself, and will parcel it out into dukedoms, and

seignorities, and counties for his followers." It was a solace to

him amid all his regrets, that New England was guiltless of this

war, and that she had done her utmost to hurl the wicked authors of

it from their seats. That way of thinking, he said, was not peculiar

to him, but was "the opinion of all the moral sense and nine-tenths

of the intelligence of the section from which he came. Some of those

who are here from that quarter--some of _the household troops_ who

lounge for what they can pick up about the Government-house will say

differently--those who come here and with their families live and

suck upon the heart of the treasury--toad-eaters who live on

eleemosynary, ill-purchased courtesy of the palace, swallow great

men's spittles, get judgships, and wonder at the fine sights, fine

rooms, fine company, and most of all wonder how they themselves got

here--these creatures will tell you, No--that such as I describe are

not the sentiments of the people of New England. Sir, I have

conversed upon the question with men of all ranks, conditions and

parties in Massachusetts, men hanging over the plough and holding

the spade--the twenty, thirty and fifty acre men, and their answers

have uniformly been to the same effect. They have asked simply, What

is the invasion for? Is it for land? We have enough. Is it for

plunder? There is none there. New States? We have more than is good

for us. Territory? If territory, there must be a standing army to

keep it, and there must be another standing army here to watch that.

These are judicious, honest, patriotic, sober men, who when their

country calls, at any wise or real exigency, will start from their

native soils and throw their shields over their liberties, like the

soldiers of Cadmus, yet who have heard the winding of your horn for

the Canadian campaign, with the same indifference they would have

listened to a jews harp or the twanging of a banjo. He declared that

Mr. Madison and his cabinet had been bent on war from the outset,

and their eagerness to come to blows with England evinced the

disposition ascribed to the giant in the children's old play:--

'Fe, faw, fum,

I smell the blood of an Englishman,

Be he dead or be he alive

I will have some.'

He knew there were those who were ready to open on him with the old

stale cry of British connection. It was not egotism to speak of what

belonged to his country. It would ill become a man whose family had

been two centuries settled in the State, and whose interest and

connections were exclusively American, to shrink from his duty for

the yelpings of those bloodhound mongrels who were kept in pay to hunt

down all who opposed the court--a pack of mangy hounds, of recent

importation, their backs still sore with the stripes of European

castigation, and their necks marked with the check collar." Fierce and

vehement, now rising into eloquence, and now descending to the coarse

language of the bar-room, Mr. Quincy dealt his blows on every side--at

one moment coming down on the administration with sweeping charges of

dishonesty and villany, and again rushing fiercely on the solid

phalanx of the war party, assailing them with scoffs and jeers and

taunts, till scorn and rage gathered on their countenances.

Mr. Clay, in his urbane and gentle manner, rose to reply. He took a

review of the two parties. While the administration was endeavoring to

prevent war by negotiations and restrictive measures, the opposition,

he said, was disgusted with the timorous policy pursued, and called

for open, manly war. They declared the administration "could not be

kicked into a war." "War and no restrictions, is their motto, when an

embargo is laid, but the moment war is declared, the cry is

restrictions but no war. They tack with every gale, displaying the

colors of every party and of all nations, steady in only one

unalterable purpose, to steer, if possible, into the haven of power.

The charge of French influence had again and again been made, which

should be met in only one manner--by giving it the lie direct. The

opposition had also amused themselves by heaping every vile epithet

which the English language afforded on Bonaparte. He had been compared

to every monster and beast, from that of the Revelations to the most

insignificant quadruped. He said it reminded him of an obscure lady

who took it into her head to converse on European affairs with an

accomplished French gentleman, and railed on Napoleon, calling him the

curse of mankind, a murderer and monster. The Frenchman listened to

her with patience to the end, and then, in the most affable manner,

replied, 'Madame, it would give my master, the Emperor, infinite pain

if he knew how hardly you thought of him.' Expressing his regret that

he was compelled to take some notice of Mr. Quincy in his remarks, he

defended Jefferson against his attacks, and showed how absurd were all

his statements and scruples respecting the invasion of Canada, by

referring to the part New England took in the capture of Louisburg. He

then alluded to the treasonable attitude assumed by the Federalists,

denounced their hypocrisy in endeavoring to gain the adhesion of the

people to their views by promising peace and commerce. But, said Mr.

Clay, I will quit this unpleasant subject, I will turn from one whom

no sense of decency or propriety could restrain from soiling the

carpet on which he treads, to gentlemen who have not forgotten what is

due to themselves, the place in which we are assembled, nor to those

by whom they are opposed." He then went into a review of the causes

that led to the war, to show that the government had acted with

forbearance and moderation, and at length took up the subject of

impressment. After proving the illegality and oppression of this

right, as claimed and exercised by the English, he said, "there is no

safety to us but in the rule that all who sail under the flag (not

being enemies) are protected by the flag. It is impossible the country

should ever forget the gallant tars who have won for us such splendid

trophies. Let me suppose that the genius of Columbia should visit one

of them in his oppressor's prison, and attempt to reconcile him to his

wretched condition. She would say to him in the language of the

gentlemen on the other side, 'Great Britain intends you no harm; she

did not mean to impress you, but one of her own subjects, having taken

you by mistake; I will remonstrate and try to prevail on her, by

peaceable means, to release you, but I cannot, my son, fight for you.'

If he did not consider this mockery he would address her judgment and

say, 'You owe me my country's protection; I owe you in return,

obedience; I am no British subject, I am a native of old

Massachusetts, where live my aged father, my wife, my children; I have

faithfully discharged my duty, will you refuse to do yours?' Appealing

to her passions, he would continue, 'I lost this eye in fighting under

Truxton with the Insurgente; I got this scar before Tripoli; I broke

this leg on board the Constitution when the Guerriere struck.' If she

remained still unmoved he would break out in the accents of mingled

distress and despair,

'Hard, hard is my fate! once I freedom enjoyed,

Was as happy as happy could be!

Oh! how hard is my fate, how galling these chains!'

I will not imagine the dreadful catastrophe to which he would be

driven by an abandonment of him to his oppressor. It will not be, it

cannot be, that his country will refuse him protection." This

description of a poor sailor, maimed in his country's service,

appealing to that country he had served so well, for protection, and

rejected, cast off, abandoning himself to despair, sketched as it was

with vividness and feeling, and uttered in that touching pathos for

which Clay's rich and flexible voice was remarkable, went home with

thrilling power to each patriotic heart, and tears were seen on the

faces of members in every part of the house.

After reviewing the progress of the war, and the present attitude of

England, and declaring that propositions for peace offered by the

other party were futile, he drew himself to his full height, and

casting his eye around the house, and pitching his voice to the note

of lofty determination, closed with, "An honorable peace can be

attained only by an efficient war. My plan would be to call out the

ample resources of the country, give them a judicious direction,

prosecute the war with the utmost vigor, strike wherever we can reach

the enemy at sea or on land, and negotiate the terms of peace at

Quebec or Halifax. We are told that England is a proud and lofty

nation, that, disdaining to wait for danger meets it half way. Haughty

as she is, we once triumphed over her, and if we do not listen to the

counsels of timidity and despair, we shall again prevail. In such a

cause, with the aid of Providence, we must come out crowned with

success, "_but if we fail, let us fail like men, lash ourselves to our

gallant tars, and expire together in one common struggle, fighting for

'Seaman's rights and Free trade_.'" Before this patriotic burst of

eloquence the harsh and irritating charges and selfish objections of

the opposition disappeared, like the unhealthy vapors of a morass

before the fresh breath of the cool west wind.

The declaration of war consummated a revolution begun long before in

Congress. The affairs of the nation were taken out of the hands of old

and experienced statesmen, and placed in those of young and ardent

men. Henry Clay was but thirty-five; Calhoun, thirty, and Randolph

thirty-nine. Many of less note were also young men, full of hope and

confidence, and jealous of their country's honor. In their first

conflict with the older and more conservative members, they revealed

the dawning genius and statesmanship that afterwards raised them to

such high renown. The Federalists were represented also by men of

great strength of intellect and forcible speakers. Quincy possessed

the elements of a powerful leader, but he at times allowed his

passions to override all propriety and suggestions of prudence.

Vehement and fearless, he moved down on the enemy in gallant style,

but, like Jackson in battle, his hostility for the time lost all

magnanimity, and assumed the character of ferocity. He made the whole

party opposed to him a person, and attacked it with all the malignity,

scorn, invective, and jeers he would one who had grossly abused his

person and assailed his honor. But there was no secresy or trickery in

his movements--his followers and his foes knew where to find him, and

though he often, in his intemperance, violated the rules of courtesy,

and thus exposed himself to retorts that always tell against a

speaker, he still was an ugly opponent to contend with. Full of

energy, inflexible of purpose--aggressive, bold, and untiring--in a

popular cause he would have been resistless. There were men in the

Federalist party at this time capable of carrying even a bad cause if

relieved from external pressure. But the impressment of American

citizens, massacres in the north, and outrages along the sea coast, so

aroused the national indignation, that both words and efforts became

powerless before it. Like the resistless tide, which bears away both

strong and weak, it hushed argument, drowned explanations, and

silenced warnings, as it surged on, breaking down barriers, and

sweeping away defences that seemed impregnable.

One of the most remarkable men in this Congress was John Randolph, of

Roanoke, as he always wrote himself. Possessed of rare endowments, and

of ample wealth, fortune had lavished on him every gift but that of

sex. He was at this time exceedingly fair. Conflicts and rude

jostlings with the world had not yet wrinkled and blackened his

visage, soured his sensitive temper, or driven him into that

misanthropy and those eccentricities which afterwards disfigured his

life. He was six feet high and frail in person, but his brilliant

black eye fairly dazzled the beholder, as he rose to speak, and made

him forget the fragile form before him. His voice was too thin for

public speaking, and when pitched high was shrill and piercing. But

in common conversation it was like an exquisite instrument, on which

the cunning player discoursed strange and bewitching music, and no one

could escape its fascination. His first glance round the hall

attracted silence, and all bent to catch the tones of that musical

feminine voice. As he became excited in his harangue, his eye burned

with increased lustre, while his changing countenance revealed every

thought and feeling before it was uttered. So expressive was it in

transmitting the transitions that passed over the soul and heart of

the speaker, that they scarcely needed the assistance of language.

Sometimes fearfully solemn and again highly excited; he at this time

rarely indulged in that withering sarcasm which afterwards so often

drew blood from his antagonist. With the delicate organization and

sensibilities of a woman, joined to the thought and ambition of a man,

his destiny had led him into scenes that spoiled his temper and erased

some of the most beautiful features of his character. Chivalrous and

fearless, he at first lent his genius to Jefferson's administration,

but shrunk from the awful consequences of war when it approached.

Calhoun, one of the firmest props of the government, was his antipode

in almost every particular. Though young, his face evinced no

enthusiasm--his glistening eye no chivalry. With thin lips, high cheek

bones, rigid, yet not strong lines in his face, an immense head of

hair, his personal appearance would never have arrested the curiosity

of the beholder but for his eye. This was not brilliant and radiant

like Randolph's. It did not light up with valor, nor burn with

indignation, nor melt with pity, but changeless as a piece of

burnished steel, it had a steady, cold glitter, that fascinated for

the time whomsoever it fell upon. Fixed and precise in his attitude,

and moveless in his person, he poured forth his thoughts and views

with a rapidity, yet distinctness, that startled one. Untrammeled at

this time with those abstractions and theories which afterwards

confused his reasoning faculties and gave an irrecoverable twist to

his logic; he brought his cool, clear intellect to the aid of the

administration, and indicated by the power and influence he soon

acquired, his future greatness. No sophistry could escape him--the

stroke of his cimeter cut through all complexity--and when he had done

with his opponent's argument it could not have been recognized as that

which, just before, looked so plausible and consistent.

Two other representatives from the same state were able friends of the

administration. William Lowndes, a young man, and though not a good

speaker, nor prepossessing in his appearance, carried great influence

by mere weight of character, and the consistency and firmness of his

political opinions. He was six feet six inches high, and slender

withal; and when he rose to address the house, his unassuming and

respectful manner commanded attention. Of great integrity, clear

headed and consistent, a proud, bright career seemed opening before

him, but death soon closed it for ever.

Mr. Cheves was chairman of committee of Ways and Means, and exhibited

great ability in that station.

But the pride of the house was the young and graceful speaker, Henry

Clay. Tall, and straight as a young forest tree, he was the embodiment

of the finest qualities of Western character. Possessing none of the

graces and learning of the schools, nor restrained in the freedom of

thought and opinion by the systems and rules, with which they often

fetter the most gifted genius, he poured his whole ardent soul and

gallant heart into the war. The true genius, and final destiny of this

republic, lie west of the Alleghanies. So there, also, will spring up

our noblest American literature. Not shackled by too great reverence

for the old world, educated in a freer life, and growing up under the

true influences of American institutions, man there becomes a freer, a

more unselfish being; his purposes are nobler, and all his instincts

better.

Impelled by pure patriotism, and excited by the wrongs and insults

heaped upon his country, Clay entered into those measures designed to

redeem her honor, and maintain her integrity with a zeal and

solicitude, that soon identified him with them. He thus unconsciously

became a leader; and whether electrifying the house with his appeals,

or in the intervals of the sessions of Congress traversing his state,

and arousing the young men to action, exhibited the highest qualities

of an orator. His stirring call to the sons of Kentucky was like the

winding horn of the huntsman, to which they rallied with ardent

courage and dauntless hearts. We now always associate with Clay, the

scattered white locks and furrowed face, and slow, majestic movements.

But, at this time, not a wrinkle seamed his youthful countenance; and

lithe and active, he moved amid his companions with an elastic tread,

and animated features. His rich and sonorous voice was so flexible,

that it gave him great power in appealing to the passions of men. When

moving to pity, it was soft and pleading as a woman's; but when

rousing to indignation, or to noble and gallant deeds, it rang like

the blast of a bugle. In moments of excitement, his manner became

highly impassioned, his blue eye gleamed with the fire of genius, and

his whole countenance beamed with emotion. Thoughts, images,

illustrations leaped to his lips, and were poured forth with a

prodigality and eloquence, that charmed and led captive all within

reach of his voice. He loved his country well, and sung her wrongs

with a pathos, that even his enemies could not withstand. When he was

disheartened by our first reverses on the northern frontier, he turned

to our gallant navy with a pride and affection, he maintained till his

death. Madison leaned on him throughout this trying struggle, as his

chief prop and stay.

Though the House, rent by the fierce spirit of faction, would often

break through the bounds of decorum and order, he as speaker held the

reins of power with a firm and just hand. With an easy and affable

manner, that attracted every one to him, he yet had a will of iron.

Under all that frankness and familiarity, there was a rock-fast heart,

that never swerved from its purpose. His manner of carrying out his

plans, often misled men respecting the strength of his will. He was

strictly _suaviter in modo fortiter in re_. Clay, Calhoun, Randolph,

and in the next Congress Webster, were striking representatives of the

young country rising rapidly to greatness. Truly, "there were giants

in those days."

It was estimated that the entire revenue for the ensuing year would be

$12,000,000, while the expenses were calculated at $36,000,000. To

make up the $24,000,000 deficit, the President was authorized to sell

$16,000,000 six per cent. stock, continue outstanding the former

$5,000,000 treasury notes, and raise $5,000,000 towards a new loan.

But the more important business was transferred to the next Congress,

which was to meet early in the spring. The two other principal acts

passed this session, was one authorizing the government to occupy

Mobile, and all that part of Florida ceded to the United States, with

Louisiana, and the other giving it power to retaliate for the

twenty-three Irishmen taken from Scott at Quebec, and sent to England

to be tried for treason.

CHAPTER X.

Action between the Chesapeake and Shannon -- Rejoicing in

England over the victory -- The Enterprise captures the

Boxer -- Death of Lieutenant Burrows -- Daring cruise of the

Argus in the English and Irish channels -- Lieutenant

Allen's humanity -- Action with the Pelican -- Death of

Allen -- His character.

[Sidenote: 1813.]

Defeats on land had thus far been compensated by victories at sea, and

to that element we ever turned with pride and confidence. Our

exultation, however, was for a moment checked by the loss of the

Chesapeake, within sight of our shores. This vessel had started on a

cruise in February, under the command of Captain Evans. Unsuccessful

in her attempts to find the enemy, and having captured but four

merchantmen during the whole time of her absence, she returned to

Boston with the character of an "unlucky ship," which she had borne

from the outset, still more confirmed. Captain Lawrence succeeded

Captain Evans in the command of her, and began to prepare for a second

cruise. An English frigate, the Shannon, was lying off the harbor at

the time, and her commander, Captain Broke, sent a challenge to

Lawrence, to meet him in any latitude or longitude. The Chesapeake was

just getting under way when this challenge arrived, and Lawrence

resolved at once to accept it, though reluctantly, from the

disaffected state in which he found his crew. He had joined his vessel

but a few days before; the proper 1st lieutenant lay sick on shore,

and the acting lieutenant was a young man unaccustomed to his

position, while "there was but one other commissioned sea officer in

the ship," two midshipmen acting as third and fourth lieutenants.

Under these circumstances, and with a discontented, complaining crew,

it was evidently unwise to hasten a combat with a ship that had long

been preparing herself for such an encounter, and was, in every way,

in the best possible condition. But Lawrence, brave and ambitious of

renown, knowing, also, that the motives which would prompt him to

avoid a combat would be misconstrued, and having but a short time

before challenged an English vessel in vain, determined to run the

hazard, and on the morning of the 1st of June, stood boldly out to

sea. At four o'clock he overhauled the Shannon, and fired a gun, which

made her heave to. The Chesapeake, now about thirty miles from land,

came down under easy sail, receiving the fire of the enemy as she

approached. Captain Lawrence having determined to lay the vessel

alongside and make a yard-arm to yard-arm fight of it, reserved his

fire until every gun bore, when he delivered a destructive broadside.

The clouds of smoke as they puffed out upon the sea and rolled upward,

thrilled the hearts of the hundreds of spectators that crowned the dim

highlands around Boston harbor. For a few minutes the cannonading was

terrific, but some of the rigging of the Chesapeake being cut to

pieces one of the sails got loose and blew out, which brought the ship

into the wind. Then taking sternway she backed on her enemy, and the

rigging and an anchor becoming entangled, she could not get off. This,

of course, exposed her to a raking fire, which swept her decks.

Captain Lawrence, during the conflict, had received a wound in the

leg, while several of his officers were killed. When he found that his

vessel would inevitably fall aboard that of the enemy, he ordered the

drums to summon the boarders. But a negro bugleman attempting to

perform this duty was so frightened that he could not blow a note, and

verbal orders were distributed. In the mean time, Lawrence fell

mortally wounded. Carried below, his last words were "Don't give up

the ship," a motto which Perry soon after carried emblazoned on his

flag as he passed from his helpless, dismantled ship, through the

enemy's fire, to the Niagara. With his fall ceased all efforts to

carry the Shannon by boarding. The commander of the latter finding

the quarter-deck guns of the Chesapeake abandoned, gave the orders to

board, and the flag which had never yet been struck to anything like

an equal foe, was hauled down. The destruction on board the American

ship after she fell foul of the enemy was frightful. The entire battle

lasted but twelve minutes, and yet in that short time a hundred and

forty-six of her officers and crew were killed or wounded. The loss of

the Shannon was twenty-three killed and fifty-six wounded. This

victory of the British was tarnished by the brutal conduct of

Lieutenant Faulkener, who took command of the prize. The testimony of

the surviving officers proved him unworthy to serve under the gallant

commander who had so nobly fought his ship.

The Americans had become so accustomed to naval victories that they

felt great chagrin at this defeat, while the unexpected triumph,

coming as it did on the top of such successive disasters, was received

with the most extravagant delight in England: the Tower bells were

rung, salvos of artillery fired, and praises innumerable and honors

were lavished on Captain Broke. Our navy never received a greater

compliment than these unwonted demonstrations of joy uttered. The

state of the crew--the accidental blowing out of the sail--the neglect

of officers to board--and a variety of excuses were offered to solace

the American people for this defeat. There was, doubtless, much force

in what was said, but the falling of a mast, or the loss of the wheel,

or any casualty which renders a vessel unmanageable, and gives one or

the other a decided advantage, is always liable to occur; hence,

unbroken success is impossible. Occasional misfortune is a law of

chance.

But during the summer and autumn our other vessels at sea continued to

give a good account of themselves. The three little cruisers, Siren,

Enterprise, and Vixen, were great favorites, for their gallant conduct

in the bay of Tripoli. The latter was captured early in the war by an

English frigate. The Siren did not go to sea till next year, when she

too, after giving a British 74 a chase of eleven hours, was taken. The

Enterprise was kept between Cape Ann and the Bay of Fundy, to chase

off the privateers that vexed our commerce in those waters. She was a

successful cruiser against these smaller vessels, capturing several

and sending them into port. [Sidenote: Sept. 4.] A few days before

Perry's victory, this vessel left the harbor of Portland, and while

sweeping out to sea discovered a strange sail close in shore. The

latter immediately hoisted four British ensigns and stood on after the

Enterprise. Lieutenant Burrows, the commander, kept away, and ordered

a long gun forward to be brought aft and run out of one of the

windows. He had but lately joined the ship, and hence was but little

known by the under officers and men. The latter did not like the looks

of this preparation, especially as he kept carrying on sail. They

feared he had made up his mind to run, and this gun was to be used as

a stern-chaser. From the moment they had seen the British ensign they

were eager to close with the enemy, and the disappointment irritated

them. The seamen on the forecastle stood grouped together, discussing

this strange conduct on the part of their commander for awhile, and

then went to their officer and begged him to go and see about it--to

tell the captain they wanted to fight the British vessel, and they

believed they could whip her. The latter finally went forward and

spoke to the first lieutenant, who told him they need not be troubled,

Mr. Burrows would soon give them fighting enough to do. This was

satisfactory, and they looked cheerful again. The preparations all

being made, and the land sufficiently cleared, Burrows shortened sail

and bore down on the enemy. As the two vessels, approaching

diagonally, came within pistol shot of each other, they delivered

their broadsides, and bore away together. The Enterprise, however,

drew ahead, and Burrows finding himself forward of the enemy's bows,

ordered the helm down, and passing directly across his track, raked

him with his long gun from the cabin window. He then waited for him to

come up on the other quarter, when they again moved off alongside of

each other, firing their broadsides, till at length the main-top-mast

of the English vessel came down. Raking her again with his long gun,

Burrows took up his station on her bows, and poured in a rapid and

destructive fire.

The men serving one of the carronades being sadly reduced in numbers,

and unable to manage their piece, Burrows stepped forward, and seized

hold of the tackle to help them run it out. Placing his feet against

the bulwark to pull with greater force, he was struck in the thigh by

a shot which glanced from the bone and entered his body, inflicting a

mortal, and exceedingly painful wound. He refused, however, to be

carried below, and laid down on deck, resolved, though writhing in

excruciating agony, to encourage his officers and men by his presence

so long as life lasted.

In forty minutes from the commencement of the action the enemy ceased

firing, and hailed to say he had struck. The commanding officer

ordered him to haul down his flag. The latter replied they were nailed

to the mast, and could not be lowered till the firing ceased. It was

then stopped, when an English officer sprang on a gun, and shaking

both fists at the Americans, cried, "No--no," and swore and raved,

gesticulating, in the most ludicrous manner till he was ordered

below. This, together with the awkward manner of lowering colors with

levers and hatchets, drew peals of laughter from the American sailors.

Lieutenant Burrows lived till the sword of the English commander was

placed under his head, when he murmured, "I die contented." This

vessel, which proved to be the Boxer, was terribly cut up, but the

number of killed was never ascertained, as they were thrown overboard

fast as they fell. She had fourteen wounded, while the loss of the

Americans was one killed and thirteen wounded.

After this the Enterprise, under Lieutenant Renshaw, cruised south, in

company with the Rattlesnake, both having many narrow escapes from

British men of war. The former captured, off the coast of Florida, the

British privateer, Mars, of fourteen guns. Soon after she was chased

by a frigate for three days, the latter often being within gunshot.

So hard was the brig pressed, that Lieutenant Renshaw was compelled to

throw his anchors, cables, and all but one of his guns overboard. At

length it fell calm, and the frigate began to hoist out her boats. The

capture of the brig then seemed inevitable, but a light breeze

springing up, bringing her fortunately to windward, her sails filled,

and she swept joyfully away from her formidable antagonist.

Soon after Renshaw was transferred to the Rattlesnake, in which

vessel he was again so hard pressed by a man of war, that he had to

throw over all his guns but two. Afterwards, near the same spot, being

wedged in between a British frigate and the land, he was compelled to

strike his flag.

The Argus, another brig, was launched this year, and dispatched in

June to France, to carry out Mr. Crawford, our newly appointed

Minister to that country. Having accomplished this mission, Lieutenant

Allen, the commander, steered for the coast of England, and cruised

boldly in the chops of the English channel. Here and in the Irish

channel, this daring commander pounced upon British merchantmen while

almost entering their own ports. He was in the midst of the enemy's

cruisers, and the most untiring watchfulness was demanded to avoid

capture. Unable to man his prizes he set them on fire, making the

Irish Channel lurid with the flames of burning vessels, and lighting

up such beacon fires as England never before saw along her coast.

Great astonishment was felt in Great Britain at the daring and success

of this bold marauder, and vessels were sent out to capture him. But

for a long time he eluded their search, leaving only smouldering ships

to tell where he had been. This service was distasteful to Allen, who

was ambitious of distinction, and wished for an antagonist more worthy

of his attention. Determined to combine as much kindness and humanity

with his duty as he could, he allowed no plundering of private

property. All passengers of captured vessels were permitted to go

below, and unwatched, pack up whatever they wished, and to pass

unchallenged. The slightest deviation from this rule, on the part of

his crew, was instantly and severely punished. This humanity, joined

to his daring acts, brought back to the English the days of Robin Hood

and Captain Kidd.

A cruise like this of a single brig in the Irish Channel, could not,

of course, continue long. Even if she could avoid capture, the crew

must in time sink under their constant and fatiguing efforts.

On the thirteenth of August, Allen captured a vessel from Oporto,

loaded with wine. Towards morning he set her on fire, and by the light

of her blazing spars stood away under easy sail. Soon after daylight

he saw a large brig of war bearing down upon him, perfectly covered

with canvas. He immediately took in sail to allow her to close, and

when she came within close range gave her a broadside. As the vessels

continued to approach the firing became more rapid and destructive. In

four minutes Captain Allen was mortally wounded by a round shot,

carrying off his leg. His officers immediately caught him up to carry

him below, but he ordered them back to their posts. In a short time,

however, he fainted from loss of blood and was taken away. Four

minutes after, the first lieutenant, Watson, was struck in the head by

a grape shot, and he too was taken below. There was then but one

lieutenant left, Lieut. H. Allen, who though alone, fought his ship

gallantly. But the rigging was soon so cut up that the vessel became

unmanageable, and the enemy chose his own position. In about a quarter

of an hour Mr. Watson was able to return on deck, when he found the

brig rolling helplessly on the water, a target for the Englishman's

guns. He however determined to get alongside and board, but all his

efforts to do so were abortive, and he was compelled to strike his

colors. His victorious adversary was the Pelican, a brig of war a

fourth larger than the Argus.

Unwilling to believe that this great disparity of force was a

sufficient reason for the defeat, the Americans endeavored to account

for it in other ways. It was said that the sailors succeeded in

smuggling wine from the brig burned a few hours before, and were not

in a condition to fight--others that they were so overcome with

fatigue that they nodded at their guns. Her fire was certainly much

less destructive than that of other American vessels, which one of the

officers on board said was owing to the powder used. Getting short of

ammunition, they had taken some powder from an English vessel bound to

South America. This being placed uppermost in the magazine, was used

in this engagement. It was afterwards ascertained to be condemned

powder, going as usual to supply South American and Mexican armies. In

proof of this, it was said that the Pelican's hull was dented with

shot, that had not force enough to pierce the timbers. The superiority

of the English vessel in size, however, is a sufficient reason,

without resorting to these explanations.[37] If any other was wanted,

it would be found in the early loss of the superior officers. Such a

calamity, at the outset of an engagement, will almost invariably turn

an even scale. One officer cannot manage a ship, and sailors without

leaders never fight well.

[Footnote 37: The Pelican was 485 tons, the Argus 298. The former

threw nearly two hundred pounds more metal than the latter at every

discharge.]

Captain Allen was taken ashore and placed in a hospital. As he was

carried from the ship, he turned his languid eyes on the comrades of

his perils and murmured, "God bless you, my lads; we shall never meet

again." His conduct on the English coast furnishes a striking contrast

to that of Cockburn, along our shores.[38]

[Footnote 38: Capt. Allen was born in Providence in 1784, and entered

the navy as a midshipman when sixteen years of age. His father was an

officer in the Revolution, and served with distinction. Young Allen,

seven years after his appointment, was lieutenant on board the

Chesapeake, when Barron shamefully struck his flag to the Leopard. He

fired the only gun that replied to the British broadside, touching it

off with a coal that he plucked from the fire in the galley. The shot

passed directly through the ward-room of the Leopard. His indignation

at the conduct of Barron overleaped all bounds, and he told him

bluntly, "_Sir, you have disgraced us._" He drew up a letter to the

Secretary of the Navy, demanding a court martial. "Oh," said he, in

writing home, "when I act like this, may I die unpitied and forgotten,

and no tear be shed to my memory." He was a brave and gallant officer,

and distinguished himself in the action between the United States and

Macedonian, and took command of the latter after her surrender. His

death was a great loss to the navy.]

CHAPTER XI.

Cost of transportation to the northern frontier -- English

fleet on our coast -- Chesapeake blockaded -- Blockade of

the whole coast -- Cockburn attacks Frenchtown -- Burns

Havre De Grace -- Attacks Georgetown and Frederickstown --

Arrival of British reinforcements -- Attack on Craney Island

-- Barbarities committed in Hampton -- Excitement caused by

these outrages -- Commodore Hardy blockades the northern

coast -- Torpedoes -- Hostile attitude of Massachusetts --

Remonstrances of its legislature -- Feeling of the people.

[Sidenote: 1813.]

With such a large extent of ocean and lake coast, and so vast and

unprotected western and southern frontiers occupied by hostile

savages, our troops were necessarily distributed over a wide surface.

The northern army alone acted on the offensive--in all other sections

of the country the Republic strove only to preserve its territory

intact. The summer in which Dearborn's army lay inactive at Fort

George, looked gloomy for the nation. Great exertions were being made

to retrieve our errors, and the war in the north was carried on at an

enormous expense. The conveying of provisions and arms for such a

distance on pack-horses, increased immensely the price of every

article. It was said that each cannon, by the time it reached

Sackett's Harbor, cost a thousand dollars, while the transportation

of provisions to the army of Harrison swelled them to such an

exorbitant price, that the amount expended on a small detachment would

now feed a whole army. The cost of building the indifferent vessels we

had on Lake Ontario, was nearly two millions of dollars.

But while these vast expenditures were made for the northern army, and

Harrison was gradually concentrating his troops at Fort Meigs, and

Perry building his little fleet on Lake Erie, soon to send up a shout

that should shake the land, and while the murmuring of the savage

hordes, that stretched from Mackinaw to the Gulf of Mexico, foretold a

bloody day approaching, an ominous cloud was gathering over the

Atlantic sea-coast. English fleets were hovering around our harbors

and threatening our cities and towns with conflagration. The year

before, England could spare but few vessels or troops to carry on the

war. Absorbed in the vast designs of Napoleon, who having wrested from

her nearly all her allies and banded them together under his

standard--Austria, Prussia, Poland, all Germany pressing after his

victorious eagles as they flashed above the waters of the Niemen--was

at that time advancing with a half million of men on the great

northern power. If he should prove successful, England would be

compelled to succumb, or with a still more overwhelming force he

would next precipitate himself upon her shores. But the snow-drifts of

Russia had closed over that vast and gallant host--his allies had

abandoned him, and the rising of the nations around him, in his weak,

exhausted condition, foretold the overthrow that soon sent him forth

an exile from his throne and kingdom. Released from the anxiety that

had hitherto rendered her comparatively indifferent to the war on this

continent, she resolved to mete out to us a chastisement the more

severe since it had been so long withheld. Irritated, too, because we

had endeavored to rob her of her provinces at a moment when she was

the least able to extend protection to them, she did not regard us as

a common enemy, but as one who by his conduct had ceased to merit the

treatment accorded in civilized warfare. The first squadron appeared

in the Chesapeake in February and blockaded it. Soon after another,

entered the Delaware under the command of Beresford, who attempted to

land at Lewistown, but was gallantly repulsed by the militia,

commanded by Colonel Davis. The town was bombarded, and though the

firing was kept up for twenty hours, no impression was made upon it.

In March the whole coast of the United States was declared in a state

of blockade, with the exception of Rhode Island, Massachusetts, and

New Hampshire. It is not known why Connecticut was not also omitted,

but the invidious distinction made between the eastern and the other

states grew out of the well known hostility of the former to the war.

It was intended not only as a reward for their good behavior in the

past, but a guerdon of better things should that hostility assume a

more definite form. This intended compliment to New England was the

greatest insult she ever received. It was a charge of disloyalty--the

offer of a bribe for treason--the proffer of the hand of friendship,

while that same hand was applying the torch to American dwellings and

carrying the horrors of war to the hearth-stone and fireside.

Admiral Cockburn, especially, made his name infamous by his wanton

attacks on farm houses and peaceful citizens, and the license he

allowed to the brutal soldiery, who were guilty of deeds of shame and

violence like those which disgraced the troops of Wellington at

Badajos and St. Sebastian. After amusing himself by these predatory

exercises on peasants, hen roosts, barns, and cattle, he planned the

more important attack on Frenchtown, a village consisting of six

dwellings and two store houses. Taking with him about five hundred

marines, he set out at night, and rousing the terrified inhabitants by

his cannon, landed his imposing force, burned the two store houses,

after taking such of their contents as he needed--committed some petty

depredations, and retired.

The American frigate, Constellation, was blockaded in the bay by this

fleet, but all efforts to take her were repulsed by her brave crew.

[Sidenote: May 3.]

The scene of his next exploits was Havre de Grace, a thriving town,

situated on the Susquehanna, about two miles from the head of the bay.

He set out with his barges by night, and at daylight next morning

awakened the inhabitants with the thunder of cannon and explosion of

rockets in their midst. A scene of consternation and brutality

followed. Frightened women and children ran shrieking through the

streets, pursued by the insults and shouts of the soldiers. The houses

were sacked and then set on fire. The ascending smoke and flames of

the burning dwellings increased the ferocity of the men, and acts were

committed, from mere wantonness, disgraceful both to the soldiers and

their commanders. The work of destruction being completed, the British

force was divided into three bodies--one of which was ordered to

remain as guard, while the other two pierced inland, spoiling and

insulting the farmers, and robbing peaceful travellers. For three days

this gallant corps remained the terror and pest of the surrounding

country, and then re-embarked with their booty, leaving the

inhabitants to return to the ashes of their dwellings. Georgetown and

Frederictown became, in turn, the prey of these marauders, and the

light of burning habitations, and tears of women and children, fleeing

in every direction, kindled into tenfold fury the rage of the

inhabitants. A sympathetic feeling pervaded Congress, and no sooner

did it assemble than Clay, the speaker, descended from the chair, and

demanded an investigation of the charges brought against British

soldiers and officers. These excesses, however, were but the prelude

to greater and more revolting ones. Admiral Warren having arrived in

the bay with reinforcements, and land troops under the command of

General Beckwith, more serious movements were resolved upon. Norfolk

was selected as the first point of attack. This important town was

protected by two forts on either side of the Elizabeth river, between

which the frigate Constellation lay at anchor. Soon after the fleet

moved to the mouth of James river, and began to prepare for an attack

on Craney Island, the first obstacle between it and Norfolk.

Penetrating their design, Captain Tarbell landed a hundred seamen on

the island, to man a fort on the north-west side, while he moved his

gun boats so as to command the other channel. At day dawn on the 22d,

fifty barges loaded with troops were seen pulling swiftly towards the

island, to a point out of reach of the gun boats, but within range of

the batteries on shore. These immediately opened their fire with such

precision, that many of the boats were cut in two and sunk, and the

remainder compelled to retire. An attempt from the mainland was also

repulsed by the Virginia militia, under Colonel Beatty. The enemy

lost in this attack between two and three hundred men, while the

Americans suffered but little. Three days after the repulse at Craney

Island, Admiral Cockburn, assisted by General Beckwith, made a descent

on Hampton, a small fishing town by Hampton roads. The riflemen

stationed there, and the militia, bravely resisted the landing, but

were finally driven back by superior numbers. The place was then

entered and plundered, not merely of its public stores, but private

property. This little fishing town was literally sacked by the British

army of twenty-five hundred men. Private houses were rifled, even the

communion service of the church was carried away, while the women were

subjected to the most degrading insults, and _ravished in open day_!

The American army marched into Mexico over the bodies of their slain

comrades, and were fired upon for a whole day from the roofs of houses

after the city had surrendered, yet no such acts of violence were ever

charged on them as were committed under the sanction of the British

flag in this little peaceful, solitary, and defenceless village. The

authorities of the different towns took up the matter--witnesses were

examined, affidavits made, and the proceedings forwarded to the

British Commander. The charges were denied, but they stand proved to

this day, a lasting stigma on the name of Cockburn. This rear admiral

in the British navy not only allowed such outrages in one instance,

but repeatedly. There was a harmony in his proceedings refuting the

apology of unintentional baseness. His expeditions were those of a

brigand, and he changed civilized warfare into marauding, robbery, and

pillage. The news of these enormities, aggravated as they passed from

mouth to month, spread like wildfire amid the people. Stirring appeals

were heard in every village and town. Calm reflection and reason were

indignantly spurned; woman, manhood, patriotism, all cried aloud for

vengeance, and the war-cry of an aroused and indignant people swelled

like thunder over the land. The leaders of the anti-war faction saw

with consternation this rising sympathy of the masses. It threatened,

for the time, to sweep away their influence entirely. The British

committed a vital error in allowing these excesses, for they

harmonized the hitherto divided feelings of the people, and furnished

the upholders of the war with a new and powerful argument for unity

and energy. The public ear had become accustomed to the tales of

impressment and charges of the invasion of neutral rights. The

atrocities on the north-western frontier affected the west more than

the east, where they were charged rather to the Indians than to the

British Government, and were inflicted on an invading force. But a

system of warfare so abhorrent to humanity, aroused into activity a

spirit which gave tenfold strength to the administration.

While the Chesapeake remained blockaded, Admiral Cockburn, with a

portion of the fleet, moved southward, preceded by the history of his

deeds. The coasts of the Carolinas and Georgia were thrown into a

state of agitation bordering on frenzy. Mrs. Gaston, wife of a member

of Congress, died in convulsions from the terror inspired by this

British Admiral. He, however, effected but little. Landing at

Portsmouth he seized some booty and a few slaves. From the outset he

had attempted to persuade the slaves to rise against their masters,

and actually organized a company of blacks to aid him in his marauding

expeditions.

The squadron blockading the coast north of the Chesapeake was

commanded by Commodore Hardy, the reverse of Cockburn in every quality

that distinguished the latter. He waged no warfare on defenceless

towns, and villages, and women and children. Humane and generous, he

had more cause to complain of the conduct of the excited inhabitants,

than they of his. Although he landed at various places he allowed his

troops to commit no violence.

The American coast, south of Cape Cod, was at length thoroughly

blockaded, so that not only were our ships at home shut in port, but

those endeavoring to enter from without captured, and our whole

coasting trade was cut off, causing the country to feel severely the

miseries of war. The Constellation remained blockaded in the

Chesapeake, while the Macedonian, United States, and sloop Hornet, in

endeavoring to escape from New York by the way of the Sound, were

chased into New London, where they were compelled to lay inactive. In

the mean time, in accordance with an act of Congress, passed in the

winter, allowing half of the value of war ships to those who should

destroy them by other means than armed or commissioned vessels of the

United States, great ingenuity was exhibited in the construction of

torpedoes. Several attempts were made to blow up the British frigates,

but without success. The Plantagenet, however, riding in Lynn Haven

bay, came near falling a victim to one of these missiles, which spread

terror through the British fleet. After several unsuccessful efforts,

Mr. Mix, to whom the torpedo was entrusted, at length succeeded in

getting it near the bows of the vessel, unperceived. [Sidenote: July

24.] The "all's well" of the watch on deck had scarcely pealed over

the water, when it exploded with terrific violence. A red and purple

column suddenly rose fifty feet in the air, and bursting, fell like a

water-spout on deck. The ship rolled heavily in the chasm, and a

general rush was made for the boats, one of which was blown into the

air. Commodore Hardy remonstrated against this mode of warfare, as

contrary to the usages of civilized nations, and it was soon

abandoned. The terror it inspired, however, made him more wary in

approaching the coast. A boat-guard was kept rowing around the ships

all night, and the most extraordinary precautions taken to protect

them from these mysterious engines of destruction.

While our blockaded coast was thus filling Congress with alarm, and

the whole land with gloom and dread, the bold and hostile attitude

which Massachusetts was assuming, both deepened the general

indignation and added to the embarrassments under which the

administration struggled. Owing, doubtless, to the failures which

marked the close of the previous year, the elections in the New

England states during the early spring had terminated very

satisfactorily to the Federalists. Strong was elected Governor of

Massachusetts by a large majority, while both branches of the

Legislature were under the control of the Federalists. In Connecticut

and New Hampshire they had also triumphed, and Vermont, although her

state government and delegation to Congress were Democratic, was still

claimed as Federalist in the popular majority.

On the other side, New York and Pennsylvania spoke loudly for the

Administration, the latter by offering to loan a million of dollars

to the government, as an offset to the efforts of the Federalists to

prevent the loan proposed by government being taken.

[Sidenote: May 20.]