A FOREIGN FLAG FLIES ON THE REDAN.
It was the crackling of the grenadiers' muskets, the bellowing of
Vrooman's big gun, the cannonade of the twenty-four-pounders of the
Lewiston batteries, the roar of the eighteen-pounder in the British
redan, and the streak of crimson light from the long line of beacons
which rent the sky from Fort Erie to Pelham Heights, that had wakened
the citizens of Niagara and aroused Brock from his brief repose.
Captain Wool, of the 13th U.S. regulars--Van Rensselaer being wounded in
six places--hurried his men under the shelter of the overhanging rocks,
keeping up an intermittent fire, and waited for reinforcements. For
almost two hours this desultory firing continued. With the cessation of
the storm and arrival of broad daylight, six more boats attempted to
reach the Queenston landing. One boat was sunk by a discharge of grape
from Dennis's howitzer; another, with Colonel Fenwick, of the U.S.
artillery, was swept below the landing to a cove where, in the attack by
Cameron's volunteers that followed, Fenwick, terribly wounded, was, with
most of his men, taken prisoner. Another boat drifted under Vrooman's,
and was captured there, while others, more fortunate, landed two
additional companies of the 13th, forty artillerymen and some militia.
The shouts of the fighters and screams of the wounded were heard by the
hundreds of spectators who were parading the river bank at Lewiston, all
ready to witness "the humiliation of Canada."
General Van Rensselaer had commanded that the "Heights had to be taken."
Wool, a gallant soldier, only twenty-three, suffering from a bullet that
had passed through both his thighs--no superior officer coming to his
support--volunteered for the duty. He expressed his eagerness to make
the attempt. Gansfort, a brother officer of Wool's, had been shown by a
river guide a narrow, twisting trail, used at times by fishermen,
leading to the summit. This he pointed out to Wool as a possible pathway
to the Heights, where a force of determined men might gain the rear of
the British position. Wool, at the same time, had also been informed
that Williams, hitherto on the Heights, had been ordered to descend the
hill to assist Dennis--which was Brock's first command on reaching the
redan. Followed by Van Rensselaer's aide, who had orders "to shoot every
man who faltered," Wool at once commenced the ascent, leaving one
hundred of his men to protect the landing.
Picked artillerymen led the way. Concealed by rock and thicket, and
unobserved by the British--the trail being regarded as impassable--they
reached the hill-top, only thirty yards in rear of the solitary gun in
the redan. The noise of their movements was drowned by the crash of the
batteries, which reduced Hamilton's stone house to ruins and drove
Crowther and his small gun out of range. The shells from the enemy's
mortars rained upon the village, and his field-pieces subjected the
gardens and orchards of Queenston to a searching inquisition.
On reaching the summit, Wool, when the last straggler had arrived,
formed his men, without losing a minute, and emerging from ambush, fired
a badly-aimed volley at the astonished Brock and his eight gunners, and
with a wild shout rushed down upon the redan.
* * * * *
When the United States flag was raised over the gun, which Wool, to his
deep chagrin, found spiked, the troops at Lewiston realized that the
battery had been taken. Their courage returning, they rushed to the
boats below, hoping to participate in a victory which, while hitherto a
question in their minds, now seemed beyond all doubt.
Brock, on regaining the bottom of the slope, seeing that the main attack
was to be made at Queenston, sent Captain Derenzy with a despatch to
Sheaffe at Fort George.
"Instruct Major Evans," he wrote, "to turn every available gun on Fort
Niagara, silence its batteries, and drive out the enemy, for I require
every fighting man here; and if you have not already done so, forward
the battalion companies of the 41st and the flank companies of militia,
and join me without delay."
Mounting his horse, he galloped to the far end of the village. Here he
held a hurried consultation with the few officers present, and
despatched Macdonell to Vrooman's to bring up Heward's Little York
volunteers at the double. He then instructed Glegg to order Dennis, with
the light company of the 49th, less than fifty strong, and Chisholm's
company of the York militia, to join him, and also to recall Williams
and his detachment. When these arrived he took command.
"Captain Williams," said he, "how many men do you muster?"
"Seventy, sir, of all ranks," replied Williams; "forty-nine grenadiers
and Captain Chisholm's company of volunteers."
"We must make the attempt, then," said the General, "to turn the enemy's
left flank on the Heights, and this can only be done by a round-about
way." Then, as Dennis joined him, he said, with a shade of vexation on
his face, "It is a waste of time lamenting mistakes, but the overlooking
of that pathway was a serious thing. The re-taking of the redan must be
attempted at all hazards. It is the key, you see, to our position. If we
wait for all our reinforcements the task will only be greater, as it
will give the enemy time to establish himself in force, and when he
drills out the spiked gun, the odds against us will be greater still."
Then, after a pause, "We must try and regain that gun without a moment's
delay. It will be hot work, and means a sacrifice, but it is clearly our
duty. Macdonell cannot be long. How are your men?"
"Somewhat fagged, sir," replied Dennis, "and a bit hippish. We've had a
trying time, but they are ready to follow you."
* * * * *
It has been truly said of Isaac Brock that he never allowed a thought of
self-preservation or self-interest to affect for one instant his
conception of duty. He was blind at this moment to all personal
considerations. He made no effort to shelter himself behind any
plausible excuse that would have been gratefully seized by the timid or
calculating man, or to fence with his duty. His consistency was sublime.
"His last moments were in clear keeping with his life and his belief."
"He who thinks In strife
To earn a deathless fame,
Must _do_, nor ever care for life."
The little band of heroes fell into line, while their brother hero
addressed them.
"Men of the 49th," said Brock, "and my brave volunteers, I have heard of
your work this morning, and the trying circumstances under which you
have been fighting. Now, my lads, as you know, a large body of the enemy
has stolen a march on us. They have taken our gun, it is true, but they
will find it spiked! It is our duty to re-take it. Be prepared for
slippery footing. Use every bit of shelter, but when we make the final
rush give the enemy no time to think. Pour in a volley; fire low, and
when it comes to in-fighting, use the bayonet resolutely and you have
them beaten. I know I can depend upon you.... There is a foreign flag
flying over a British gun. It must not stay there.... Don't cheer now,
men, but save your breath and follow me."
* * * * *
There was a cheer, notwithstanding.