The fire of the Americans was so heavy, that the British flotilla was soon obliged to retire, a number of their boats having been disabled by the cannon shot—one, in particular, having been cut in two, sunk, leaving the men struggling in the water for their lives. It was thought that it contained an officer of rank, as the other boats hurried to her assistance, and evinced much agitation until the individual alluded to was saved. But to let the doctor tell his own story:—
“Well, they retreated, and we made prisoners of those whose boats having been cut up, were struggling in the water. Among others, there was a fine looking fellow, a petty officer, who had been wounded by the same shot that had sunk the boat; so I got him up to the hospital-tent, and cut off his leg above the knee, and having made him comfortable, (!) walked out upon the beach, with my assistant for a stroll. We had not gone far, when we were both thrown upon our backs by a violent shock which momentarily stunned us. On recovering ourselves, we observed the air filled with cotton descending like feathers. We did not know how to account for the phenomenon, till, advancing some distance farther, we found a soldier lying apparently dead, with his musket by his side. I stooped down, and found that the man was wounded in the head, a splinter having lodged just over the temple. As I drew out the splinter, he raised himself, and stared stupidly about him. I asked him what he was doing there?—“I’m standing ground over the tent, sir,” he replied. What tent?—“Why sir, the tent that had the gunpowder in it.” How came it to blow up—what set it on fire?—“I don’t know, sir.” Did nobody come along this way?—“Yes, sir; a man came along with a cigar in his mouth, and asked if he might go in out of the sun; I told him, yes!—and he went in, and sat himself down—and that is the last that I recollect, until I found you standing over me here.” Upon going a few hundred feet farther, we found a part, and still farther on, the remainder of the body of the unfortunate man, who ignorantly had been the cause of the explosion, as well as his own death. He was so completely blackened and burnt that it would have been impossible, from his colour, to have distinguished him from a negro.”
Note to Hudson River.—Military Academy at West-Point.—West-Point, with her majestic scenery—her savage mountains—the river winding at their feet—her military ruins rising among the forest-trees—her fine architectural edifices—her flag proudly floating from its staff against the back-ground of pure blue ether—her bright and elastic youth, in all “the pomp and circumstance of war”—now marching on the broad and verdant plain, in glittering battalion—now as cavalry, spurring their snorting horses in close squadron—now with light artillery hidden in the smoke of their rapid evolutions—now calculating amid the bray of mortars, the curving course of bombs—measuring the ricochetting shot bounding from the howitzers—amid the roar of heavy cannon, watching the balls as they shiver the distant targets.—West-Point, enveloped in its spicy mountain breezes—West-Point—its romantic walks—its melodious birds, warbling in ecstacy among its trees—its heroic monuments—its revolutionary relics—its associations, past and present—is, to the tourist, poetry—but to the cadet—sober, sober prose. Incessant study—severe drilling—arduous examinations—alike amid the sultry heats of summer, and intense cold of winter, mark the four years of his stay, with a continual round of labour and application:—application so severe that health frequently gives way under the trial. None but the most robust and hardy in constitution, can sustain the fatigue and labour. But few, nursed in the lap of wealth, are willing to undergo its hardships; yet, though the far greater part of the number are from what are called the hardy, certainly not the opulent part of the community; under the cry of aristocracy, the Academy is made a standing mark for the attacks of the radicals in the Federal and State legislatures. Of all the places of public instruction in the country—in a national point of view—it is the most important; for while it furnishes to the army a corps of officers acknowledgedly unsurpassed in military and scientific attainments by that of any service in Europe—officers, whose names are synonymous with modesty and honour, it is of incalculable importance in furnishing to the country, commanders and instructors for the militia in time of war, and engineers for the constant plans of public improvement in peace. West-Point proudly boasts that not one of her sons has ever disgraced himself, or his country, in the face of the enemy. She can, with equal pride, point to almost every work of importance in the country, and say, “There too, is their handywork.” While the noble works of defence on the frontiers and sea-board bear testimony to the talent and science of Totten, Thayer, and other gentlemen of the corps of engineers, the railroads, aqueducts and canals of the States bear equal witness to the energies of Douglass, McNeill, Whistler, and other officers, who have entered the walks of private life.
Well would it be in this disorganizing age, if, instead of prostrating this, every State had within her borders a similar institution as a nucleus of order, discipline, and obedience. The following extract of a letter from an officer who stands high in the service, may not be uninteresting to the reader.
February 16, 1843.
“I send you herewith a part of the information which you required in your last letter. The Military Academy is a great honour to the country, and is so understood abroad. I have frequently heard foreign officers express their opinion, that it was equal to any institution in Europe, and I was particularly gratified when I was abroad, to find the English officers so jealous of it. They seemed to understand very distinctly, that, although the policy of the country prevented our sustaining a standing army, that we had yet kept up with the age in military science; and stood ready prepared with a body of officers, well educated in scientific knowledge, to supply a large army for efficient and vigorous operations.
“The whole number of graduates at the Academy since its foundation, is 1167. Of this number there have died in service, 168. There have been killed in battle, 24. Of those wounded in service, there is no record. The number of those who have died since 1837, is 1 major, 17 captains, 21 first lieutenants, and 9 second lieutenants.
“The rank of those killed since 1837, was 1 lieutenant-colonel, 2 captains, 3 first lieutenants, and 2 second lieutenants. The rank of those killed previous to that time can only be ascertained by great care in revising the Registers. The enemies of the Academy have charged, that men have been educated and resigned without performing service in the army. This is not so. Besides, the term of service in the Academy, where they are liable at any time to be called upon and sent to the extremes of the Union, they are obliged by law, to serve four years after they have graduated, and in fact, they seldom do resign, unless they are treated unfairly by government, and the proportion of resignations of officers appointed from civil life, is much greater than from those that have graduated at the Academy. A large number of resignations took place in 1836, which was attributable to high salaries offered for civil engineers, and to the general disgust which pervaded the army, upon the constitution of two regiments of dragoons, when the appointments were made almost exclusively from civilians, and officers of long-standing and arduous service in the army found themselves outranked by men of no experience, and who had done no service. You can have no idea of the injustice which was done on that occasion. The ambition of many of the officers was broken down, and they retired in disgust.”