After the British batteries had been in fierce operation for some time, throwing shells, hot shot and rockets in a perfect shower upon the American ranks, three columns of attack were formed—two pressing straight for the bridges, the planks of which had been taken up, and the third for a ford farther up the river. The last was repulsed by the volunteers and militia. The other two steadily approached the bridges, but the artillery rained such a tempest of grape shot on the uncovered ranks of one, and the pickets and rifles so scourged the other, that they were driven back to their intrenchments for shelter. After Macdonough's victory, their fire slackened, not only from discouragement, but from the destructive effect of the American gunnery on their batteries, and at nightfall ceased entirely. As soon as it became dark, Prevost ordered a retreat. So rapidly and silently was it conducted, that the army had advanced eight miles before Macomb knew of it. He immediately ordered a pursuit, but this day of strife had ended in a storm of wind and rain, and it was soon abandoned.
Prevost lost two hundred and fifty in killed and wounded, many of whom were left on the ground, drenched and beat upon by the storm. These he commended to the humanity of Macomb, and continued his rapid flight to the St. Lawrence. That British fleet, shattered and torn, lying at anchor under the guns of Macdonough, in the bay, and the army of twelve thousand men streaming through the gloom and rain, panic stricken, lest the feeble force behind should overtake it, present a striking contrast to their prospects in the morning, and show how changeful is fortune. Downie heard not the shout of victory, for he lay stiff and cold in the vessel he had carried so gallantly into action, and Prevost did not long survive his defeat.
So large a hostile force had never before crossed the Canada line, while no such sudden and terrible reverse of fortune had befallen the feeblest expedition. Two such victories on one day, were enough to intoxicate the nation. The news spread like wildfire, and shouts and salvos of artillery, and bonfires, hailed the messengers, as they sped the glad tidings on. The campaign was closing gloriously. Instead of the defeats and failures of the last year, there were Chippewa and Lundy's Lane and Fort Erie, crowned by the victories of Baltimore and Plattsburgh. The news of the two last, approaching from different directions, set the land in a glow of transport, and lifted it from despondency and gloom to confidence and bright expectations.
The Thursday following the battle of Champlain was devoted to the burial of the officers killed in the naval action. As the procession of boats left the Confiance, minute guns were fired from the vessels in the harbor. The artillery and infantry on shore received the dead and bore them to the place of burial, while the cannon of the forts responded to those from the fleet, blending their mournful echoes over the fallen in their prime and manhood. The clouds hung low and gloomy over lake and land, and the rain fell in a gentle shower, imparting still greater loneliness to the scene. On this very day, while friends and foes were thus paying the last tribute of respect to the fallen, Baltimore was shaking to the huzzas of the inhabitants, at the news that the British fleet was sailing down the bay, baffled and disappointed.
Sept 1.
Simultaneous with these two invasions of our territory, a British force was sent against Machias. The misfortune which befel the Adams, sloop-of-war, compelling her to take refuge at Hampden, in the Penobscot river, caused a change in the movements of the expedition, and it did not stop to take Machias, but seized Castine and Belfast, on the Penobscot bay, then pushed on with a sloop of war and small craft carrying in all 700 men, to capture this vessel. Sept 9. Machias was then seized, and all the country east of Penobscot taken possession of. July 14. The islands in Passamaquoddy bay had been seized and occupied two months previous.
Our whole maritime coast was still threatened, and every seaport of any magnitude, was fortifying itself when Congress assembled again.
The only other military movement of note during this fall, was an expedition which set out from Detroit, under the command of General McArthur. It consisted of 700 mounted men, seventy of whom were Indians, and for secresy, daring and skill was not surpassed during the war. Its object was to prevent the enemy from molesting Michigan during the winter, and if successful in its operations, eventually attack Burlington Heights, and form a junction with Generals Brown and Izard. This body of seven hundred bold and well-mounted borderers, left Detroit the 22d of October, and plunged at once into the wilderness. Oct 22. The long and straggling column would now be seen wading along the shallow shores of the lake, and then be lost in the primeval forest, to reappear on the bank of deep rivers, from whose farther shore the wilderness again spread away. The bivouac by night in the autumnal woods, or on the bank of a stream, presented a fine subject for a painter. Their seven hundred horses tied to the trees around, only half relieved by the ruddy fire that strove in vain to pierce the limitless gloom—the lofty trunks of trees receding away like the columns in some old dimly-lighted cathedral—the hardy and rough-looking frontiersmen, stretched with the half-clad savages around the fire—the sentinels scarcely discernible in the distance, all combined to form a picture which has a charm even for the most civilized and refined.
It was, however, no holiday march—expedition was necessary to success, and the horses were kept to the top of their endurance. Straining up acclivities, floundering through swamps, struggling with the rapid currents of rivers, this detachment succeeded in penetrating more than two hundred miles into the enemy's country, and to within twenty-five miles of Burlington Heights. It marched more than four hundred miles, one hundred and eighty of it through an unbroken wilderness, defeated five hundred militia strongly posted, killed and wounded twenty-seven men, and took a hundred and eleven prisoners, and returned with the loss of but one man. Oct 17. In the discipline he maintained, the health of the troops, and their safe return, McArthur showed himself a skillful and able commander, while his subordinates deserve the highest commendation.