University of Virginia Library

33. CHAPTER XXXIII.
A FRUITLESS CONTEST.

The active part which lieutenant-colonel Scott
had taken in the foregoing events, his ardor in
dislodging the enemy from the contested prize,
and the readiness with which he afforded her the
protection of his cannon, secured him the friendship
of Elliott, and excited a peculiar interest in
the breast of George to learn the history of so
promising an officer. All the information, however,
that he could acquire respecting the gallant
subject of his curiosity, was, that he was born
and educated in Virginia, where, for six years,
he had been in the practice of the law, with flattering
indications of success; that the attack upon
the frigate Chesapeake, which kindled into a
flame every young and active spirit of the nation,
first roused him from the calm pursuits of peace,
and induced him to accept a captaincy in a regiment
of light artillery; that he had ever since
prosecuted his military studies with unremitting
ardor; that soon after the declaration of war, he
had been promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel
in the second regiment of artillery, commanded
by Izard; and that he had recently arrived
on the Niagara with two companies of his
regiment, which were posted at Black Rock, to
protect the navy-yard. In the foregoing spirited

little affair, he first `fleshed his maiden sword.'
Like the hero of Sweden, he had heard the bullets
whistle around him, and determined that from
thenceforth that should be his music.

A few days had elapsed since our hero's restoration
to liberty, when he was informed that a secret
expedition was on foot at Lewiston, the
head-quarters of the Northern army, in which
colonel Scott had been invited to participate. He
therefore immediately applied for and obtained
permission to serve in the projected enterprize;
and by forced marches through mud, rain, and
sleet, arrived at Lewiston, under the enterprizing
Scott, early on Tuesday morning, the thirteenth
of October.

The successful gallantry of Elliott in recovering
the two brigs, had excited in all the frontier
troops a strong disposition to be actively employed.
They had become weary of an indolent encampment;
and hearing that their brethren in
arms, on other stations, were almost daily reaping
laurels in successful skirmishes, they wished for
similar opportunities, and murmured against their
commander for not giving them orders to act.

General Van Rensselaer was not insensible to
this disposition in the soldiers under his command;
and he inferred from it that a crisis in the
campaign was rapidly advancing, and that it was
an object of immediate necessity to strike some
bold and important blow, or consent to relinquish
the objects for which so much toil and expense
had been incurred.

Under these impressions, he determined to
make a descent upon Queenston, on the Canadian
shore, dislodge the enemy from the heights,
and gain possession of the village, where the

troops might be sheltered from the inclemency of
the approaching winter.

At this time, there was at Lewiston about two
thousand five hundred militia, raw and undisciplined,
besides detachments of regulars, which
had arrived from Fort Niagara, under lieutenant-colonels
Fenwick and Chrystie, and major Mullany,
to join in the expedition. Two columns,
of three hundred men each, were to make a simultaneous
descent on the British shore; one of
them to be led by Chrystie, the other by colonel
Van Rensselaer, who had the chief command of
the expedition. As soon as the heights should be
carried, Fenwick was to pass over with the light
artillery, Mullany to follow with his detachment,
and other troops to succeed in order.

Such were the arrangements which had been
made, when the gallant Scott, with his intrepid
little division, arrived at Lewiston, at four o'clock
in the morning. Finding no boats suitable for
the transportation of artillery, he was obliged to
restrain the ardor of his troops, and place them
in battery on the American shore, where, at day-break,
they opened a spirited fire, to clear the
opposite bank while the landing was effected. All
the boats which had been collected, were divided
equally between the two advancing columns, but
were insufficient to embark the whole at once,
and were altogether inadequate to the service for
which they had been collected.

The movements of the Americans were soon
discovered by the enemy, and a brisk fire of
musketry was poured from the whole line of the
Canada shore, and immediately after, three blazing
batteries scattered a shower of destruction
among the advancing boats, dimpling the river
on every side of them. Scott's two pieces of artillery,

under the command of Towson and Barker,
kept up a sweeping fire on the opposite
shore, and they were assailed in return by shells
from the enemy's mortar.

The river at this place was a sheet of violent
eddies, which much embarrassed the boats, so
that it was with great difficulty they could proceed
in any order. Colonel Van Rensselaer,
however, soon reached the opposite shore, with
about one hundred men, a portion of each column,
and effected a landing amidst a tremendous fire,
directed upon him from every point, against
which his column advanced very tardily. Chrystie
had been less fortunate; his boat was soon
perforated by the enemy's fire, and became unmanageable,
while he received a shot in his hand.
With some difficulty he regained the American
shore, about half a mile below the point of embarkation,
and afterwards crossed in another
boat. Several of these frail vehicles had been
destroyed in this attack, many of the pilots and
boatmen deserted the enterprize, and every thing
connected with it began to wear an inauspicious
aspect.

As soon as the remaining boats had returned,
Fenwick and Mullany embarked, with as many of
their men as could be carried, amounting to about
two hundred in all. Destitute of pilots, and exposed
to an impetuous current, they were compelled
to land where they could, and found themselves
immediately under the enemy's batteries,
where the whole were made prisoners, except
eight or ten men, who escaped with Mullany in
his boat; Fenwick was severely wounded in
three or four places.

Ensign Willoughby, who had hitherto assisted
in serving Towson's piece of artillery, was burning

with impatience to participate in the glory of
a closer contest. He had witnessed the fate of
Fenwick's detachment, saw the tardiness with
which embarkations were effected, and trembled
for the fate of the little band who were desperately
maintaining the footing they had gained. He
was now relieved at the gun, and, without waiting
for orders, or even asking permission, rushed
to the shore, and sprang into the first boat that
was departing.

In the mean time, the troops which had effected
their landing under Van Rensselaer, were
hotly engaged, and gradually gaining ground on
the enemy; but their leader had scarcely advanced
two hundred paces when he received four
wounds, and was forced to leave the field; not,
however, without having first ordered his officers
to proceed with rapidity, and storm the fort; at
the same time imparting to them such local information
as he possessed with respect to the ground
which was to be contested.

The troops now acted without a common commander;
the regulars took the lead, led on by
their respective captains, Wool, Malcolm, Armstrong,
Ogilvie, and lieutenant Randolph. Other
small parties, of twenty or thirty men each, followed
on as the boats successively arrived.

Sixty determined young heroes, ten of whom
were militia, followed their leaders up the heights,
and having gallantly carried a battery which was
planted midway the declivity, gained the great
height called the mountain. Here they gave three
cheers, and rushed like tigers upon the astonished
foe, who received them on the points of their
bayonets. After the third charge, however, the
enemy's consolidated phalanx was broken, and
driven down the hill in every direction.

Each individual of this intrepid band, merits a
niche in the temple of Fame; would I could rescue
all their names from oblivion, and enrich this
page by recording them. But such is the fate of
war, that Alexanders and Cæsars may fall unnoticed
in the ranks, and the most exalted merit
(unless decorated with an epaulet) exist unacknowledged
and unrewarded. Their leader was
the heroic Ogilvie, seconded by the undaunted
Wool, who was still bleeding from the wounds he
had received; and by his side rushed on the impetuous
Willoughby; lieutenants Kearney, Carr,
Hugginian, Sammons, Randolph, and Gansevoort,
with ensign Reeves, followed with enthusiasm,
each one emulous to be foremost in danger.
Whatever be the names or rank of the remaining
sixty, the noblest title in the gift of their country
is incontestably theirs—the Champions of
Freedom.

Completely beaten and dispersed by this
handful of men, the fugitives fled to the village of
Queenston, where they were met and rallied by
general Brock, who had brought with him a considerable
detachment, and instantly advanced to
the charge.

The Americans still possessed the hill, to which
the path of ascent was winding and difficult; but
no difficulties can deter the brave—Brock led on
his undaunted followers in the very face of death.
His horse fell under him, and he advanced on
foot. Young Willoughby, whose ardor had kept
him constantly in front of the hottest battle, received
a ball in his hip, and would have fallen
but for the ready arm of a private soldier named
Wilklow, who exclaimed—“Courage, my dear
sir—I have just unhorsed the British general.”

“And I have done nothing;” replied Willoughby;
“but give me your rifle and I may disperse the
whole column.” With considerable difficulty,
still supported by the soldier, he levelled the piece
and fired. The gallant but unfortunate Brock
fell lifeless to the earth within an hundred paces
of the American line, and his panic-struck followers
fled in disorder, notwithstanding all the exertions
of their officers to bring them back to the
charge. Men who in Egypt had acquired the
title of Invincibles, became a fugitive rabble in
front of a phalanx of FREEMEN.

Again the Americans had time to breathe, and
were, in the interval, joined by Scott, who had
been ordered over to take the command of the
whole of the troops engaged; but the presence
of general Wadsworth, who commanded the militia,
enabled him to confine his attention to the
regulars, consisting of about two hundred and
thirty men, whose courage and ardor had increased
with the difficulties that opposed them. Scott
immediately drew his little army up into a strong
position, in which he could at once receive the
enemy and cover the ferry; for he every moment
expected to be reinforced by all the troops at
Lewiston.

By this time a large body of Indians, who had
been collected at Fort George, were on their way
to the scene of action. Their approach was announced
to the routed invincibles, who were, with
some difficulty, again rallied, and in conjunction
with their red allies, brought to the charge. A
short but terrible conflict ensued. Again were
the Champions of Freedom victorious; again
were the enemy completely routed by the rifle and
bayonet, and compelled to fly in the wildest disorder,
while the Americans pursued them as far

as was compatible with the protection of the ferry,
from whence a reinforcement was still expected.
It was with some difficulty, however, that the ardor
of pursuit could be checked by the officers,
and the flushed victors reinstated in their former
commanding position.

During this action, the commander-in-chief
himself was on the ground, and in expectation of
further attacks, gave immediate orders for fortifying
and strengthening the position of the troops.
But perceiving no signs of an approaching reinforcement
from the American shore, he immediately
recrossed the river to accelerate the movements
of the militia, and urge them to embark.
But, alas! their ardor had entirely subsided, and
no arguments could induce them to proceed. In
vain the general rode through the ranks and conjured
them by every thing they held dear or valuable,
to join their brave countrymen in the field;
in vain colonel Bloom exhibited his bleeding
wounds, and exhorted them to accompany him in
search of redress—they forgot to what country
they belonged, and seemed content to witness the
fate of their brethren on the opposite shore, while
they themselves were far removed from danger.
Nothing was wanting but their presence to secure
the hard-earned victory, and prevent a renewal
of the contest; and yet they refused to embark!

The British invincibles had now again rallied.
Ashamed of their disorderly flight before a handful
of men who had never witnessed a regular engagement,
they were at length induced to renew
the attack. With direful whoops and yells, the
savages commenced the assault, and several American
bosoms recoiled from the impetuous
charge. The advanced pickets gave way, and
a host of fierce demons, blood-stained and horribly

painted, plunged into the midst of the American
lines. All was now confusion, horror, and
dismay; defeat and massacre seemed, for a moment,
inevitable, and were only prevented by the
cool and deliberate bravery of Scott. Animated
by his courage and example, the broken and retreating
column suddenly turned upon the foe, and
throwing itself forward with resistless impetuosity,
bore down all before it, and again turned the
“tide of war.” The enemy once more fled with
precipitation, leaving a horrid rampart of human
bodies in front of the American lines.

After these frequent defeats, the enemy was
content to wait the arrival of a column of eight
hundred and fifty fresh troops from Fort George,
which were perceived advancing with rapidity,
and were now within a mile of Queenston Heights,
commanded by general Sheaffe. Chrystie and
Mullany at this moment gave Scott the unwelcome
intelligence that no aid was to be expected
from Lewiston, except a supply of cartridges;
but that if a retreat was resorted to, general Van
Rensselaer would endeavor to cover it with his
cannon, and send as many boats as possible to
receive them.

Scott was thunderstruck at this intelligence:
and, to increase his mortification, it was immediately
afterwards ascertained that every boat still
remained fastened to the American shore. The
British reinforcements continued to advance, and
the light troops and Indians were ready to renew
the battle. Retreat having now become to the
Americans almost as hopeless as succor, Scott resolved
to receive the enemy on the ground which
he occupied; when, if any survived the shock, it
would be time enough to surrender.

Sheaffe approached warily with his force;

obliqued to the right from the road, and formed a
junction with the Indians, in the rear of the
Heights. No doubt he suspected that the little
band of Americans in view was but the out-post
of the principal army. But, whatever he thought,
he advanced with firmness to the charge, when a
most obstinate and bloody conflict commenced.

Scott was determined on a desperate stand before
he yielded; and gave his orders with intrepidity
and coolness, amid a scene that would have
filled common breasts with dismay. The clash
of arms, the incessant roar of musketry, the dreadful
thunder of ordnance, and the still more appalling
yell of savages, mingled in horrid confusion;
while the ground ran with blood, and was
thickly covered with mangled bodies. At length
they closed, with a shock that made the solid
mountain tremble to its base. Scott's little band
of heroes, consolidated into a close phalanx, stood
the charge undismayed—almost unmoved; while
many of the desperate assailants were impaled
on their bristling bayonets.

Nothing, for some minutes, could shake this
little phalanx; but it was every moment growing
weaker, being exposed to a cannonade that carried
death in every discharge. At length, being
nearly surrounded on all sides, they gave way,
broke, and made a precipitate retreat to the bank
of the river, and halted under cover of a precipice
which protected them from a shower of musketry
that rattled like hail-stones over their heads.
Here Scott mustered the panting fugitives, and
found that his little army had dwindled to one
hundred and thirty nine.