In the mean time, Prevost, at the head of a disciplined army of twelve thousand men, began to advance on Plattsburg. The ulterior design of this invasion of the States has never been disclosed. It is hardly possible that the British General meditated a movement similar to Burgoyne's, hoping to reach Albany. The object may have been to get entire command of Lake Champlain; and, pushing his land forces as far as Ticonderoga, there wait the development of events on the sea-coast, or by conquests along the northern boundary, create a claim to the lakes, to be enforced in the negotiations for peace.
Prevost marched slowly, cumbering the road with his heavy baggage and artillery trains as he advanced, and did not arrive at Plattsburg till the 7th of September.
This town is situated on the Saranac River, a deep and rapid stream, crossed at the time by several bridges. Abandoning that portion of it on the north shore, as untenable, Macomb withdrew his forces to the southern bank. Prevost, after a sharp action with the advance of the American army, was allowed to erect his batteries at his leisure. It took him four days to complete his works, or rather that time elapsed before the arrival of the British fleet.
Sept. 1.
In the mean time Macomb had sent an express to Governor Chittenden, of Vermont, telling him that Prevost had commenced his march on Plattsburg, and beseeching him to call out the militia to his aid. But this Federalist Governor, acting on the rebellious doctrine of Massachusetts, coldly replied that he had no authority to send militia out of the State. On the 4th, Macomb sent another express saying the army was approaching, that his force was too small to resist it, and begging for assistance. General Newell, more patriotic than the Governor, offered to take his brigade over to the help of Macomb, but the former would not sanction the movement by his authority, though he advised him to beat up for volunteers. With every feeling of patriotism deadened by the poison of the spirit of faction—every generous sentiment and sympathy apparently extinguished—deaf to the piteous plea rising from a neighboring town, he coldly entrenched himself behind a party dogma, and let the ruin and devastation sweep onward. The cannonading on the 6th, by Majors Appling and Wool, who gallantly attacked the enemy's advance, did not rouse him from his apathy.
One can hardly imagine that the call he issued for volunteers before the battle, and the stirring proclamation he made afterwards under the pressure of popular enthusiasm, emanated from the same person.
The people, however, did not require to be stimulated into patriotism by their executive. As that sullen thunder came booming over the lake, it stirred with fiery ardor the gallant sons of that noble State, who never yet turned a deaf ear to the calls of their country, and before whose stern and valorous onset the enemy's ranks have never stood unbroken. Spurning the indifference of their Governor, and trampling under foot his constitutional scruples, they flew to their homes, and snatching down their muskets and rifles, and giving a short adieu to their families, rushed to the shore, and soon the lake was covered with boats, urged fiercely forward by strong arms and willing hearts towards the spot where the heavy explosions told that their brave countrymen were struggling in unequal combat. The face of young Macomb lighted with joy as his eye fell on those bold men, and a heavy load was taken from his heart.
Among those who had previously volunteered, was the Rev. Benjamin Wooster, of Fairfield, Vermont. Responding to the call of Governor Tompkins, he put himself at the head of his parishioners and repaired to the American camp, where he endured all the privations of a common soldier. The aged members of his church and the women, when they saw him draw up his little flock on the village green, prior to their departure for the scene of conflict, assembled in the church and sent for him, saying, "We shall see you no more—come, go to the house of God and preach us a last sermon, and administer to us the holy sacrament for the last time." But fearing the effect of so touching an interview on his own decisions, he refused. Sending them an affectionate farewell, he embraced his weeping family, kissed his babes, and gently untwining their arms from his neck, turned away. On the day of battle this brave old shepherd led his fearless flock into the fire, with the serenity of a good man doing his duty.
During the summer the English at the northern, and the Americans at the southern portion of the lake, had been busy in building ships to contest the supremacy of this sheet of water, whose head pierces so deep into the bosom of New York. The latter had at length assembled a flotilla consisting of four vessels—the largest carrying twenty-six guns—and ten galleys, the whole under the command of Macdonough. After some skirmishing, this little fleet, which early in the season lay in Otter Creek, was got into the lake and steered for Plattsburg Bay, to assist Macomb in his defence of the town. This bay opens to the southward, and instead of piercing the main land at right angles, runs north, nearly parallel with the lake itself. A narrow tongue of land divides it from the main water, the extreme point of which is called Cumberland Head. Just within its mouth, and nearly opposite where the turbulent Saranac empties into it, Macdonough anchored his vessels. Sept 20. Between him and the main land was a large shoal and an island which effectually blocked the approach of vessels on that side.
The English fleet sent to attack him, consisted, also, of four vessels—the largest mounting 32 guns—and 13 galleys. The American force, all told, was 14 vessels, mounting 86 guns and carrying 850 men, while that of the English was 17 vessels, mounting 96 guns and carrying 1000 men. The largest, the Confiance, "had the gun deck of a frigate," and by her superior size and strength, and her 30 long twenty-fours, was considered a match for any two vessels in Macdonough's squadron. Captain Downie, who commanded the British fleet, joined his gun boats at the Isle au Motte on the 8th of September, where he lay at anchor till the 11th. In the mean time, Prevost, whose batteries were all erected, remained silent behind his works waiting the arrival of the fleet before he should commence his fire.