The American commander on the lake was Thomas Macdonough, and by almost herculean efforts he managed to build and launch a ship, a schooner, and a number of gunboats, so that his total force was raised to fourteen sail. With this fleet, he proceeded to Plattsburg and anchored in Plattsburg Bay. On September 11 the British fleet, certain of victory, sailed in and attacked him, but was ignominiously defeated.
THE BATTLE OF LAKE CHAMPLAIN
[September 11, 1814]
Parading near Saint Peter's flood
Full fourteen thousand soldiers stood;
Allied with natives of the wood,
With frigates, sloops, and galleys near;
Which southward, now, began to steer;
Their object was, Ticonderogue.
Assembled at Missisqui bay
A feast they held, to hail the day,
When all should bend to British sway
From Plattsburgh to Ticonderogue.
And who could tell, if reaching there
They might not other laurels share
And England's flag in triumph bear
To the capitol, at Albany!
Sir George advanced, with fire and sword,
The frigates were with vengeance stored,
The strength of Mars was felt on board,—
When [Downie] gave the dreadful word,
Huzza! for death or victory!
Sir George beheld the prize at stake,
And, with his veterans, made the attack,
[Macomb's] brave legions drove him back;
And England's fleet approached, to meet
A desperate combat, on the lake.
From Isle La Motte to Saranac
With sulphurous clouds the heavens were black;
We saw advance the Confiance,
Shall blood and carnage mark her track,
To gain dominion on the lake.
Then on our ships she poured her flame,
And many a tar did kill or maim,
Who suffered for their country's fame,
Her soil to save, her rights to guard.