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The champions of freedom, or The mysterious chief

a romance of the nineteenth century, founded on the events of the war, between the United States and Great Britain, which terminated in March, 1815
  
  
  
  

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CHAPTER XXX. THE CAPITULATION.
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30. CHAPTER XXX.
THE CAPITULATION.

On valor's side the odds of combat lie;
The brave live glorious, or lamented die;
The wreten who trembles in the field of fame.
Meets death, or worse than death—eternal shame.

Pope's Homer.


After the battle of Maguago, and the return of
the detachment without effecting the object of
their expedition, the commander in chief became
seriously alarmed for the fate of captain Brush,
and the detention of those supplies on which the
very existence of the army depended. An express
was therefore immediately dispatched, with
directions for him to take an upper route through
the woods, and to reinforce his detachment with
what militia he could collect in his neighborhood.

On the tenth day of August, the enemy at Malden
received a reinforcement of four hundred
men, and the next day orders were given for the
American garrison on the Canadian shore to evacuate
their position, destroy the fortress, and return
to Detroit. It was now whispered among
the officers, that the general had stated that a capitulation
of the army would be necessary!
Though
astonished beyond measure at this intimation,
they were compelled to believe it; for it had
reached them through a medium that admitted of
no doubt. The commanding officers of three regiments,
Miller, Cass, and M`Arthur, held a consultation
on the subject, the result of which was,
a determination to incur, (in the last resort) the
responsibility of divesting the general of his command.
On the same day they addressed a letter


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to the governor of Ohio, informing him of the
state of affairs.

On the thirteenth, the enemy took a position
opposite Detroit, and began to throw up works.
For two days they pursued their labors without
interruption, and established a battery of considerable
force. The American commander, “from
the loop-holes of retreat,” beheld their progress,
but gave no orders to drive them from the position
they had taken. He appeared thoughtful and
irresolute; giving orders one moment, and countermanding
them the next: thus betraying a total
deficiency in that requisite quality of a hero,
which increases his firmness and confidence in
proportion to the difficulties which assail them.
Whispers of distrust and discontent were circulated
among both officers and men; and the three
confederated colonels consulted further on the
plan of divesting their timid and irresolute general
of a command which he was evidently incompetent
to sustain. But this plan, which might, perhaps,
have saved the army, town, and territory,
and gloriously and successfully obtained the object
of the expedition, was frustrated by an unexpected
event. Two of this patriotic trio, M`Arthur
and Cass, were ordered to proceed, by an
upper route, towards the river Raisin, with a detachment
of four hundred men, to meet the escort
and supplies under captain Brush, and accompany
them to Detroit.

They marched on this expedition about sun-set
on Friday evening, and on Saturday, at one
o'clock, a flag of truce crossed the river from
Sandwich, bearing a summons from general
Brock for the surrender of the fort and town of
Detroit; stating that he could no longer restrain


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the fury of the savages. To this demand an immediate
and spirited refusal was returned, and,
soon after, the batteries of the enemy were opened
on the fort and town, on which they continued
to play until evening, when all the British ships
of war came up the river, and anchored opposite
the town.

In the mean time an express, strongly escorted,
had been sent after M`Arthur and Cass, with orders
for them to return immediately. These
orders overtook the detachment about dark, and
were promptly obeyed.

At day-light, on Sunday morning, the firing on
both sides recommenced, and about the same
time the English began to cross the river and
land at the Springwells, three miles below Detroit,
under cover of the fire from their shipping.
They then took up their line of march, moving
in a close column of platoons, twelve in front,
upon the bank of the river.

At this time the American fort began to be
much thronged with women and children, and
the old and decrepit people of the town and
country, who flew thither for protection from the
enemy's batteries and the anticipated barbarities
of the savages.

The enemy continued to advance, and the
Americans were well prepared to receive them.
The fourth regiment was stationed in the fort;
the Ohio volunteers and a part of the Michigan
militia behind some pickets, in a situation in
which the whole flank of the enemy would have
been exposed. The residue of the Michigan
militia were in the upper part of the town to resist
the incursions of the savages. Two twenty-four
pounders loaded with grape-shot, were posted


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on a commanding eminence, ready to sweep the
advancing column; and the American troops, in
the eager expectation of victory, awaited in impatient
silence the approach of the enemy. Not
a discontent broke upon the ear—not a look of
cowardice met the eye. Every man expected
a proud day for his country, and each was anxious
that his individual exertion should contribute
to the general result.

When the head of the advancing column arrived
within about five hundred yards of the
American line, orders were given by general
Hull for the whole to retreat to the fort, and for
the twenty-four pounders not to open upon the
enemy. One universal burst of indignation was
apparent upon the receipt of this order. Those
whose conviction was the deliberate result of a
dispassionate examination of passing events,
saw the folly and impropriety of crowding eleven
hundred men into a little work, which three hundred
men could fully man, and into which the shot
and shells of the enemy were incessantly falling.
The fort was in this manner filled; the men were
directed to stack their arms, and scarcely was an
opportunity afforded of moving. Shortly after
a white flag was hung out upon the walls, and a
British officer rode up to inquire the cause, when
a communication passed between the commanding
generals, which ended in the capitulation of the
whole American army, fort, town and territory.
In entering into this capitulation, the general took
counsel of his own feelings only. Not an officer
was consulted, and no one anticipated a surrender,
till he saw the white flag displayed. Even
the women were indignant at so shameful a degradation
of the American character, and all felt as


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they should have felt, but he who held in his
hands the reins of authority.[1]

About ten o'clock the returning detachment arrived
within sight of Detroit, and had a firing
been heard, or any resistance visible, they would
have immediately advanced and attacked the
rear of the enemy. The situation in which this
detachment was placed, although the result of accident,
was the best for annoying the enemy, and
cutting off his retreat, that could have been selected.
With his raw troops enclosed between
two fires, and no hopes of succor, it is hazarding
little to say, that very few would have escaped.

But Hull capitulated, and the American army
became prisoners of war, without being suffered
to raise a weapon in their own defence. Both
privates and officers now ventured to express
their indignant feelings without restraint; the former
venting their displeasure in oaths and tears,
while many of the latter tore the epaulets from
their shoulders, and broke their own swords for
vexation. What a sight was here for an American!
As brave a little army as ever faced a foe,
flushed with the hope of victory, and eagerly
awaiting the approaching contest, were suddenly
deprived of the laurels almost within their grasp,
and obliged tamely to pass in review before an
enemy, as inferior in the quality as in the number
of his forces. Dispirited, hopeless, and desponding,
they submitted to their humiliating fate with
the best grace they could; though half of them
shed tears because they had not been permitted
to meet their country's foe, and to fight their
country's battles.


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I will conclude this humiliating chapter with
an extract from a letter which ensign Willoughby
wrote to his father, immediately after the capitulation.

EXTRACT.

“To be taken prisoner, is an occurrence so
frequent in war, that I think nothing of it; but
to be given away to an inferior enemy—to be
compelled to submit without a trial of strength,
is almost insupportable. The enemy invited us
to meet him in the field, and it was our duty and
interest to fight. If we had been defeated in battle,
a capitulation might not have been dishonorable,
as it now undoubtedly is. I had rather a
thousand times have fallen on the bloody field,
far from my friends and paternal home, than to return
thither, as I shortly must, covered with disgrace.

“I know not exactly what the articles of this
disgraceful capitulation are; but it is understood
among us that the volunteers of our state, and
the militia of Michigan, are to return home on
parole. The regular troops, (many of whom were
heroes on the Wabash) are surrendered as prisoners
of war. All the public property at this
place is given up, together with the brig Adams,
lately repairing here. Cass and M`Arthur, who
had been sent off with a detachment to open a
communication with the river Raisin, by a different
route from that of Brownstown, and who were
returning to Detroit, were included in the surrender!
Captain Brush, from Ohio, who was at the
river Raisin, on his march to Detroit with a volunteer
company, escorting thirteen hundred head
of cattle, and one hundred and fifty barrels of
flour, for the use of the army, was also included


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in the surrender! A son of colonel Elliott, British
Indian agent, was dispatched to the river Raisin,
to apprise Brush of the terms of the capitulation,
who being a noble fellow, refused, and took young
Elliott about thirty miles in his retreat, and then
let him return to Detroit. Brush, it is expected,
will escape back to Ohio; for should they pursue
him, he will have one hundred miles start of the
enemy.

“The Ohio volunteers are to be landed at
Cleveland, and one of them has promised to call
at Mulberry-Grove with this letter. I need not
desire you to use him well. If I can obtain a
parole, I shall soon embrace you; if not, God
only knows when I shall see you again. We
shall sail on Wednesday for Fort Erie. Adieu.'

 
[1]

See Cass's letter to the Secretary of War.