A History, of the War of 1812-15 Between the United States and Great Britain

by Rossiter Johnson

One regiment at first encamped in the low meadows on the western bank, but after nightfall it withdrew to the heights, leaving its camp-fires burning, A picket guard that had been posted at a little chapel a quarter of a mile in advance was left there.

The officer in command of the enemy's rear guard had sent word to General Vincent that the Americans were in straggling detachments, and if the first were attacked at once it could easily be defeated before the others came up to its support. The General therefore, as he had little chance of further retreat, planned a night attack. A little before midnight of the 5th he left his camp, at the head of about a thousand men, and marched stealthily back by the road he had come, to surprise his foe. The night was absolutely dark, and the sentinels at the little chapel were suddenly seized and silently bayoneted before they could fire their muskets or make any outcry. The assassination of pickets is one of the sickening incidents of war that seldom find mention in the reports of the general or the pages of the romantic historian, but that cost many a poor fellow his life without even the pitiful compensation of what is called glory.

Seeing the camp-fires in the meadow, with no signs of life among them, the British forces imagined that the Americans were all asleep and would fall an easy prey to massacre. They advanced confidently, and as they reached the deserted fires sprang among them with a hideous yell—in which part of the performance they were materially assisted by a few score Indian allies—expecting to see their foes arise from the ground, and rub their eyes open just in time to catch the gleam of the British bayonets and savage tomahawks before they were buried in American flesh.

Instead of this, while they stood dazed among the waning camp-fires, looking about in vain for somebody to massacre, the line on the heights blazed out with musketry and artillery, and the shot tore its way through the ranks of the red-coats. But the English soldier has always been good at obeying orders, and as soon as this volley revealed the whereabouts of the Americans, their enemy pressed on in the face of the fire, climbed the bank, entered the lines in the darkness, and captured several guns, the artillerists not being able to distinguish friend from foe.

Then began a horrible mêlée, in which nearly every man fought on his own account, and many of them could not tell whether they were striking at comrades or enemies. Hearing a few shots fired in the rear of his camp, General Chandler imagined he was attacked from that direction also, and faced about a portion of his line, which increased the dreadful confusion. After this wild work in the darkness and tumult, the British managed somehow to retreat, carrying off with them two pieces of artillery, which, however, were afterward recovered.

When the morning dawned, it was found that the American commanders, Chandler and Winder, were both prisoners in the hands of the enemy; while the British commander, Vincent, had been thrown from his horse, lost his way in the woods, and after floundering about all night was discovered in a most pitiful and ridiculous plight. Chandler was taken while trying to manoeuvre a British regiment, which he had stumbled upon in the darkness and mistaken for one of his own.

In this affair the Americans lost one hundred and fifty-four men, killed, wounded, or missing; the British, two hundred and fourteen. The victory, so far as there was any, must be accorded to the British, since it broke the advance of the Americans and caused them to turn back. When they had retreated as far as Forty-Mile Creek, they were attacked simultaneously on both flanks—on the land side by a band of Indians, and on the water side by the fleet under Sir James Yeo. But they succeeded in repelling both enemies, and returned to Fort George with the loss only of a part of their baggage, which was conveyed in boats.

After this, Yeo coasted along the shore and captured stores in Charlotte, at the mouth of the Genesee, and in Sodus, on the bay of that name. As he met with some resistance at Sodus, and had difficulty in finding the stores, which were hidden, he burned the buildings there. There was a British depot of supplies at Beaver Dams, about seven miles southwest of Queenstown and the same distance northwest of the Falls. General Dearborn planned its capture, and on the 23d of June sent against it, from Fort George, an expedition of five hundred and seventy men, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Charles G. Boerstler. The enemy had strong works at Beaver Dams, but at this time they were not very well manned.

The Americans, who had about fifteen miles to march, started in the evening, with the intention of surprising and capturing the post in the morning. But the enemy had been apprised of the movement, and when the Americans reached the present site of Thorold they fell into an ambush, where they were suddenly attacked by four hundred and fifty Indians, commanded by John Brant (son of the celebrated Mohawk chief, Joseph Brant) and Captain Kerr. Though surprised, Boerstler was not confused. He coolly but quickly formed his men in battle order, and charged through the woods in the direction of the attack. To little purpose, however, as the wily savages, following their usual tactics, fled before the line of bayonets, and soon attacked the Americans from another direction, firing from the thickets and other hiding-places. After keeping up a desultory contest of this sort for three hours, with no prospect of any termination, Boerstler fell back to a position in an open field, encountering on the way a body of Canadian militia. Scarcely had he taken this new position, to wait for reënforcements which he had asked General Dearborn to send, when a small detachment of British regulars approached to reconnoitre. They were commanded by a Lieutenant Fitzgibbon, who had been warned of the ap proach of the Americans by a woman who had walked nineteen miles to tell him.

Seeing that his enemy was somewhat disordered, and not disposed, to take the offensive, Fitzgibbon, though he had but forty-seven men, conceived the idea of capturing the whole force by one of those tricks which are generally supposed to be peculiarly Yankee. Displaying his little detachment in such a way as to make it appear to be the advance of a much larger body of troops, he sent a flag of truce to Boerstler and boldly demanded an immediate surrender, saying that fifteen hundred regulars and seven hundred Indians were but a short distance in the rear, and would soon come up. For the truth of this he gave his word, "on the honor of a British soldier." Boerstler, supposing escape would be impossible, surrendered, on condition that his men should be paroled and permitted to return to the United States. A Major De Haren, who had been sent for in all haste by Fitzgibbon, now came up with two hundred additional troops, and received the surrender, which included five hundred and forty-two men, two guns, and a stand of colors. Major Chapin, who was present, says: "The articles of capitulation were no sooner signed than they were violated. The Indians immediately commenced their depredations, and plundered the officers of their side arms. The soldiers, too, were stripped of every article of clothing to which the savages took a fancy, such as hats, coats, shoes, etc." The British commander also violated the articles by refusing to permit the militia to be paroled, whereupon many of them rose upon the guards, overpowered them, and escaped, taking some of the guards along as prisoners.