In this expedition the British lost a hundred and eight men, killed, wounded, or missing. More than fifty of the Americans were found dead on the field. Truly, an abundant revenge had been taken for the burning of Newark. McClure, who had given the provocation for these atrocities, was an Irishman, and the absurdity of his whole course in the matter seemed calculated to justify the common sarcasms levelled against his countrymen for want of foresight.
All that the Americans had gained on the northern frontier during the year 1813, with the exception of the territory of Michigan, restored by Harrison's victory, had now been lost, and on New Year's day of 1814 the settlers along the whole length of the Niagara—those of them who survived—were shivering beside the smouldering embers of their homes.
CHAPTER X. WAR IN THE SOUTH.
Engagement at Lewistown—Fight in Delaware Bay—Burning of Havre de Grace, Georgetown, and Fredericktown—Battle at Craney Island—Destruction of Hampton—Troubles with the Southern Indians—Fight at Burnt Corn Creek—Massacre at Fort Mims—Jackson's Campaign—Fights at Talluschatches, Talladega, the Hillabee Towns, Autosse, and Econochaca—Dale's Canoe Fight.
While these costly and almost useless campaigns were being fought at the North, the Southern States were not without their war experiences, which in some instances were quite as bloody. Along the southern Atlantic coast the British had a great advantage from their heavy war-ships, which blockaded-the harbors, ran into the navigable inlets, bombarded the towns, and sent parties ashore to plunder and burn. The militia did what they could to repel these incursions, and in some cases, by handling a few pieces of artillery skilfully, drove off the invaders. Lewistown, on Delaware Bay, was bombarded in April. The shells fell short, and the rockets went over the town, but many of the solid shot went through the houses, doing considerable damage. In May, a party of sailors sent ashore to get water for the squadron near Lewistown were spiritedly attacked by militia, and compelled to return to their ships with empty casks. A fortnight later a party was sent ashore for provisions, but was driven off by the vigilant militia before a mouthful had been obtained.
On the 29th of July the British sloop-of-war Martin grounded in Delaware Bay, and eight gunboats and two sloops, commanded by Captain Angus, went down to attack her. They anchored within three quarters of a mile, and opened upon her with all their guns. The frigate Junon came to her assistance, and the cannonade was kept up for nearly two hours. The British sailors proved to be very poor gunners, in comparison with the Americans. Hardly a shot struck the gun-boats, while the sloop and the frigate were hulled at almost every discharge. At length the British manned their launches, barges, and cutters, to the number of ten, and pulled off to cut out some of the gun-boats at the end of the line. Eight of them attacked a single gun-boat commanded by Sailing-Master Shead, who used his sweeps to get his craft nearer the squadron, from which it had become separated, but all the while kept firing his twenty-four pounder at his pursuers, striking one or another of them with almost every shot. Finding they were rapidly gaining on him, he anchored and waited for them to attempt boarding. He gave them two more gunfuls, as they drew nigh, with terrible effect, when the piece became disabled. The barges completely surrounded the little gun-boat, and there was a desperate conflict hand-to-hand. But of course it could not last long. Shead's crew were soon overpowered, and the British flag waved triumphantly over his deck. Seven of the British sailors had been killed, and twelve wounded, while seven of Shead's men were wounded.
On the Chesapeake the Americans fared even worse. Early in the morning of the 3d of May, the British Admiral Cockburn sent a force in nineteen barges to destroy the town of Havre de Grace and ravage the country between it and Baltimore. A small battery had been erected for the defence of the place; but it was still dark when the enemy came, and the first notice the inhabitants had of his approach was given by the balls whistling through the houses. A panic and stampede ensued. But a few men ran to the battery, and fired at the barges till the British began to land, when they all joined in the flight, except an old man named O'Neill, who stood by one of the guns and continued to load and fire it till, in recoiling, it ran over his thigh and somewhat disabled him. He still had strength to get away, armed himself with two muskets, and tried in vain to rally the militia, but finally was taken prisoner. He and his companions at the battery had killed three of the enemy and wounded two.