Canada: The Empire of the North — From 1812 to 1820, part 6

Ever since Brock had captured Detroit in 1812, General Procter, with twenty-five hundred Canadians, had been holding the western part of Ontario; and the defeat of the English at Fort George had placed him in a desperate position.

His men had been without pay for months; their clothes were in tatters, and now, with the Americans in possession of Niagara region, there was danger of Procter's food supply being cut off.

Procter himself had not been idle these six months.

In fact, he had been too active for the good of his supplies.

Space forbids a detailed account of the raids directed by him and carried out with the aid of Tecumseh, the great Shawnee chief.

January of 1813 saw a detachment of Procter's men up Raisin River, west of Detroit, where they defeated General Winchester and captured nearly five hundred prisoners, to be set free on parole.

Harrison, the American general, is on his way to Lake Erie to rescue Detroit.

Procter hastens in May to meet him with one thousand Canadians and fifteen hundred Indians.

The clash takes place at a barricade known as Fort Meigs on Maumee River, south of Lake Erie, when again, by the aid of Tecumseh, Procter captures four hundred and fifty prisoners.

It was on this occasion that the Indians broke from control and tomahawked forty defenseless American prisoners.

August sees Procter raiding Sandusky; but the Americans refuse to come out and battle, and the axes of the Canadians are too dull to cut down the ironwood pickets, and when at night Procter's bugles sound retreat, he has lost nearly one hundred men.

At last, in September, the fleets being built for the Canadians at Amherstburg and for the Americans at Presqu' Isle are completed.

Whichever side commands Lake Erie will control supplies; and though Captain Barclay, the Canadian, is short of men, Procter cannot afford to delay the contest for supremacy any longer.

He orders Barclay to sail out and seek Commodore Perry, the American, for decisive battle.

{364} On Barclay's boats are only such old land guns as had been captured from Detroit.

His crews consist of lake sailors and a few soldiers, in all some three hundred and eighty-four men on six vessels.

September 10, at midday, at Put-in-Bay, Barclay finds Perry's fleet of seven vessels with six hundred and fifty men.

For two hours the furious cannonading could be heard all the way up to Amherstburg.

Space forbids details of the fight so celebrated in the annals of the American navy.

After broadsides that tore hulls clean of masts and decks, setting sails in flame and the waters seething in mountainous waves, the two fleets got within pistol shot of each other, and Perry's superior numbers won.

One third of Barclay's officers were killed and one third of his men.

The Canadian fleet on Lake Erie was literally exterminated before three in the afternoon.

[Illustration: TWO VIEWS OF THE BATTLE ON LAKE ERIE (From prints published in 1815)] Procter's position was now doubly desperate.

He was cut off from supplies.

At a council with the Indians, though Tecumseh, the chief, was for fighting to the bitter death, it was decided to retreat up the Thames to Vincent's army near modern {365} Hamilton.

All the world knows the bitter end of that retreat.

Procter seems to have been so sure that General Harrison would not follow, that the Canadian forces did not even pause to destroy bridges behind them; and behind came Harrison, hot foot, with four thousand fighters from the Kentucky backwoods.

October first the Canadians had retreated far as Chatham, provisions and baggage coming in boats or sent ahead on wagons.

Procter's first intimation of the foe's nearness was a breathless messenger with word the Americans just a few miles behind had captured the provision boats.

Sending on his family and the women with a convoy of two hundred and fifty soldiers, Procter faced about on the morning of October the 5th, to give battle.

On the left was the river Thames, on the right a cedar swamp, to rear on the east the Indian mission of Moraviantown.

The troops formed in line across a forest road.

Procter seems to have lost both his heart and his head, for he permitted his fatigued troops to go into the fight without breakfast.

Not a barricade, not a hurdle, not a log was placed to break the advance of Harrison's cavalry.

The American riders came on like a whirlwind.

Crack went the line of Procter's men in a musketry volley!

The horses plunged, checked up, reared, and were spurred forward.

Another volley from the Canadians!

But it was too late.

Harrison's fifteen hundred riders had galloped clean through the Canadian lines, slashing swords as they dashed past.

Now they wheeled and came on the Canadians' rear.

Indians and Canadians scattered to the woods before such fury, like harried rabbits, poor Tecumseh in the very act of tomahawking an American colonel when a pistol shot brought him down.

The brave Indian chief was scalped by the white backwoodsmen and skinned and the body thrown into the woods a prey to wolves.

Flushed with victory and without Harrison's permission, the Kentucky men dashed in and set fire to Moraviantown, the Indian mission.

As for Procter, he had mounted the fleetest horse to be found, and was riding in mad flight for Burlington Heights.

It is almost a pity he had not fallen in some of his former heroic raids, for he now became a sorry figure in history, reprimanded {366} and suspended from the ranks of the army.

The only explanation of Procter's conduct at Moraviantown is that he was anxious for the safety of his wife and daughters, perhaps needlessly fearing that the rough backwoodsmen would retaliate on them for the treachery of the Indians tomahawking American prisoners of war.

[Illustration: TECUMSEH] And it had fared almost as badly with the Canadian fleet on Lake Ontario.

The boats under Sir James Yeo, the young English commander, were good only for close-range fighting, the boats under Commodore Chauncey best for long-range firing.

All July and August the fleets maneuvered to catch each other off guard.

Between times each raided the coast of the other for provisions, Chauncey paying a second visit to Toronto, Yeo swooping down on Sodus Bay.

All September the game of hide and seek went on between the two Ontario squadrons.

Sunday night, the 8th of September, in a gale, two of Chauncey's ships sank, with all hands but sixteen.

Two nights later in a squally wind, by the light of the moon, two more of his slow sailers, unable to keep up with the rest of the fleet, were snapped up by the English off Niagara with one hundred captives.

Again, on September 27, at eight in the evening, six miles off Toronto harbor, Chauncey came up with the English, and the two fleets poured broadsides into each other.

Then Yeo's crippled brigs limped into Toronto harbor, while Chauncey sailed gayly off to block all connection with Montreal and help to convoy troops {367} from Niagara down the St. Lawrence for the master stroke of the year.

The way was now clear for the twofold aim of the American staff,--to starve out Ontario and concentrate all strength in a signal attack on Montreal.

The autumn campaign was without doubt marked by the most comical and heroic episodes of the war.

Wilkinson was to go down the St. Lawrence from Lake Ontario with eight thousand men to join General Hampton coming by the way of Lake Champlain with another five thousand men in united attack against Montreal.

November 5 Wilkinson's troops descended in three hundred flat-boats through the Thousand Islands, now bleak and leafless and somber in the gray autumn light.

It seemed hardly possible that the few Canadian troops cooped up in Kingston would dare to pursue such a strong American force, but history is made up of impossibles.

Feeling perfectly secure, Wilkinson's troops scattered on the river.

By November 10, at nine in the morning, half the Americans had run down the rapids of the Long Sault, and were in the region of Cornwall, pressing forward to unite with Hampton, where Chateauguay River came into Lake St. Louis, just above Montreal.

The other half of Wilkinson's army was above the Long Sault, near Chrysler's Farm.

From the outset the rear guard of the advancing invaders had been harried by Canadian sharpshooters.

November 11, about midday, it was learned that a Canadian battalion of eight hundred was pressing eagerly on the rear.

Chance shots became a rattling fusillade.

Quick as flash the Americans land and wheel face about to fight, posted behind a stone wall and along a dried gully with sheltering cliffs at Chrysler's Farm.

By 2. 30 the foes are shooting at almost hand-to-hand range.

Then, through the powder smoke, the Canadians break from a march to a run, and charge with all the dauntless fury of men fighting for hearth and home.

Before the line of flashing bayonets the invaders break and run.

Two hundred have fallen on each side in an action of less than two hours.

Then the boats go on down to the other half of the army at Cornwall, and here is worse news,--news that sends {368} Wilkinson's army back to the American side of the St. Lawrence without attempting attack on Montreal.

General Hampton on his way from Lake Champlain has been totally discomfited.

Finding the way to the St. Lawrence barred by the old raiders' trail of Richelieu River, Hampton had struck across westward from Lake Champlain to join Wilkinson on the St. Lawrence, west of Montreal, somewhere near the road of Chateauguay River.

With five thousand infantry and one hundred and eighty cavalry he has advanced to a ford beyond the fork of Chateauguay.

Uncertain where the blow would be struck, Canada's governor had necessarily scattered his meager forces.

[Illustration: DE SALABERRY] To oppose advance by the Chateauguay he has sent a young Canadian officer, De Salaberry, with one hundred and fifty French Canadian sharp-shooters and one hundred Indians.

De Salaberry does not court defeat by neglecting precautions because he is weak.

Windfall is hurriedly thrown up as barricade along the trail.

Where the path narrows between the river and the bleak forest, De Salaberry has tree trunks laid spike end towards the foe.

At the last moment comes McDonnell of Brockville with six hundred men, but De Salaberry's three hundred occupy the front line facing the ford.

McDonnell is farther along the river.

By the night of October 25 the American army is close on the dauntless little band hidden in the forest.

On the morning of the 26th three thousand Americans {369} cross the south bank of the river, with the design of crossing north again farther down and swinging round on De Salaberry's rear.

At the first shot of the bluecoats poor De Salaberry's forlorn little band broke in panic fright and fled, but De Salaberry on the river bank had grabbed his bugle boy by the scruff of the neck with a grip of iron, and in terms more forcible than polite bade him "sound--sound--sound _the advance_," till the forest was filled with flying echoes of bugle calls.

McDonnell behind hears the challenge, and mistaking the cheering call for note of victory, bids his buglers blow, blow advance, blow and cheer like devils!

The Americans pour shot into the forest.

The bugle calls multiply till the woods seem filled with an advancing army and the yells split the sky.

Also McDonnell has ordered his men to fire kneeling, so that few of the American shots take effect.

The advancing host became demoralized.

At 2. 30 they sounded retreat, and it may truly be said that the battle of Chateauguay was won by De Salaberry's bugle boy, held to the sticking point, not because he was brave, but because he could not run away.

It is said that Hampton simply would not believe the truth when told of the numbers by whom he had been defeated.

It is also said that immediately after the victory De Salaberry fell ill from a bad attack of nerves, brought on by lack of sleep.

However that may be, the Canadian governor, Prevost, did not suffer from an attack of conscience, for in his report to the English government he ascribed the victory to his own management and presence on the field.

The year of 1813 closes darkly for both sides.

Before withdrawing from Niagara region the invaders ravage the country and set fire to the village of Newark, driving four hundred women and children roofless to December snows.

Sir Gordon Drummond, who has just come to command in Ontario, retaliates swiftly and without mercy.

He crosses the Niagara by night; the fort is carried at bayonet point, three hundred men captured and three thousand arms taken.

Next, Lewiston is burned, then Black Rock, and on the last day of the year, Buffalo.

Down {370} on the Atlantic Coast both fleets win victories, but the English work the greater hurt, for they blockade the entire coast south of New York.

On the English squadron are European mercenaries who have been given the name of Canadian battalions, because their work is to harry the American coast in order to draw off the American army from Canada.

European mercenaries have been the same the world over,--riffraff blackguards, guilty of infamous outrages the moment they are out from under the officers' eye.

These were the troops misnamed "Canadians," whose infamous conduct left a heritage of hate long after the war; but this is a story of the navy rather than of Canada.

The contest has now lasted for almost two years, and both sides are as far from decisive victory as when war was declared in June of 1812. Long since the embargo laws of France and England against neutral nations have been rescinded, and the American coast has suffered more from the blockade of this war than it ever did from the wars between France and England.

The year 1814 opens with Napoleon defeated and England pouring aid across the Atlantic into Canada.

Wilkinson's big army hovers inactive round Lake Champlain, and Prevost is afraid to weaken Montreal by forwarding aid to Drummond at Niagara.

The British fleet blockades Sackett's Harbor, and the American fleet blockades Kingston.

The Canadians raid Oswego on Lake Ontario for provisions.

The Americans raid Port Dover on Lake Erie, leaving the country a blackened waste and Tom Talbot's Castle Malahide of logs a smoking ruin, with the determined aim of cutting off all supplies in Ontario.

Drummond sends his troops scouring the country inland from Niagara for provisions.

Military law is established for the seizure of cattle and grain, but for the latter as high a price is paid as . 50 a bushel, and many a pioneer farmer back from York (Toronto) and Burlington (Hamilton) dates the foundation of his fortune from the famine prices paid for bread during the War of 1812. [Illustration: SIR GORDON DRUMMOND] Of course the United States did not purpose leaving the frontier of Niagara because Drummond had burnt the forts.

By {371} May, Major General Brown had taken command of the United States troops at Buffalo.

The next two months pass, drilling and training, and bringing forward provisions.

July 3, at day dawn, during fog thick as wool on the lake, five thousand American troops cross to the Canadian side.

Fort Erie's English garrison capitulates on the spot, and the English retreat down Niagara River towards Chippewa by the Falls.

At Chippewa, at Queenston, at Fort George, in all to guard the Canadian frontier are only some twenty-eight hundred men.

Three fourths of these are kept doing garrison duty, leaving only seven hundred men free afield.

Just beside Chippewa, a creek some twenty feet wide comes into Niagara River.

The Canadians have destroyed the bridge as they retreat, but the Americans pursue, and at midnight of the 4th the two armies are facing each other across the brook, ominous dreadful silence through the darkness but for the sentry's arms or the lumbering advance of artillery wagons dragged cautiously near the Canadians.

The bridge is repaired under peppering shot from the British.

By four on the afternoon of the 5th, the Americans have crossed the stream.

Their artillery is in place, and another battalion has forded higher up and swept round to take the Canadians on the flank.

The Canadians must either flee in such blind panic as Procter displayed at Moraviantown, or turn and fight.

Indians in ambush, reënforcements from Fort George and Queenston formed in three solid columns, the English wheel to face the foe.

First there is the rattling clatter of musketry fire from shooters behind in the {372} grass.

Then the solid columns break from a march to a run, and charge with their bayonets.

The artillery fire of the Americans meets the runners in a terrible death blast; but as the front lines drop, the men behind step in their places till the armies are not one hundred yards apart.

Then another blast from the heavy guns of the Americans literally tears the Canadian columns to tatters.

As the smoke lifts there are no columns left, only scattered groups of men retreating across a field strewn thick with the mangled dead.

Out of twelve hundred men, the Canadians have lost five hundred.

The charge of the forlorn twelve hundred at Chippewa against the artillery of four thousand Americans has been likened to the charge of the Light Brigade in the Russian War.

Though the Canadians were defeated, their heroic defense had for a few days at least checked the advance of the invaders.

And now the position of the beleaguered became desperate.

At Fort George, at Queenston, and at Burlington Heights, the men were put on half rations.