FERNANDO SEES SERVICE.
The trump of war stirred two passions in the heart of Fernando Stevens, revenge and patriotism. One was a noble and the other a very human but ignoble passion; but Fernando was only a common mortal with mortal weaknesses. When he reflected on the wrongs he had suffered; when he remembered the death of poor Boseley, slain to gratify the malice of Captain Snipes, and poor Sukey still the slave of the British monarch, he could not be other than revengeful.
"Mother," he said one day, shortly after they had heard of war. "I am going to enter the army."
The mother, who was plying her needle, sat for several moments in silence. She was not surprised at the declaration. For several days, she had watched her son with the care and anxiety of a mother. She had noted that he read the papers regularly. He pored over any news which hinted of war and was an eager listener to the latest rumor which his father brought from town. The parents had talked the matter over frequently, and Captain Stevens, himself a veteran, said:
"I can't blame him; no, I can't blame him. Poor boy, he has suffered enough to know the wrongs done to our flag."
"But would it be for the flag, or revenge?" said the mother.
"Both," answered the practical father. "He is only human, wife, and human hearts can't endure what he endured without human resentment."
The mother hoped it was more patriotism than revenge, for she was a Christian lady, and while war might be proper, even for Christian people, she thought it should be purely a conflict of principle and not of revenge.
"Fernando," said the mother laying aside her knitting and taking off her glasses and wiping them, "do you really mean to go?"
"Yes, mother. My country needs my services. There are thousands of unfortunate Americans, still in bondage. I seem to hear their pitiful cries calling on their country to send brave men to their rescue."
"I have expected this," sighed Mrs. Stevens, and tears gathered in her eyes.
"Mother, would you have me stay?"
It was hard for a mother to say it; but she had to do so. She was patriotic, and she answered:
"No."
"Then I will go."
"When?"
"They are beating up for volunteers at town, and I am going there to enlist in a day or two. First I must help father drain the flat and clear off a few timber patches."
It soon became rumored all over the neighborhood that Fernando was going to enlist. Many friends came to see him, bid him good-by and wish him God-speed. The day before he went away, he was chopping wood, when he saw a large man riding a large bay mare followed by a large colt, cross the old bridge a few hundred paces below and ascend the hill toward the house. The visitor was Mr. Winners. He had grown older and stouter, and the mare was older and heavier, and this was her fourth colt since he had come over to talk with his neighbor about sending his son to college with Fernando. The kind, good face of the old farmer expressed sadness, and his eye, always dull, seemed melancholy.
He rode slowly up the hill to where Fernando was chopping wood. Fernando saw him coming and laid down his axe, for it was quite evident that Mr. Winners wanted to speak with him. The old man, drawing rein close by Fernando, said:
"Mornin', Fernando, how's all?"
"We are all well, Mr. Winners. How are yourself and family?"
"Oh, we are just middlin' like."
"Won't you alight and come into the house?"
"No; I ain't got time, Fernando. I just came to see you, that's all. Fernando, I hear as how you're goin' t' ther war."
"I am, Mr. Winners. I am a young man with no wife or children. My country just now stands in need of young men."
"Ya-as, it does, an' I don't come t' blame ye for it,--mind ye, I don't blame ye fur it. I'm sometimes tempted to go myself, old as I am."
"No, no, Mr. Winners, there is no occasion. Let the younger men do the service."
"I don't blame ye, for goin', Fernando; but I hope ye won't furgit one thing."
"What?"
"My Sukey's on t'other side. Now that fightin's begun, he'll have to light his own flag; but he won't do it with a very good grace, lem me tell ye. No, he won't. Now, Fernando, I don't want to ask ye to ease down on the British a bit; but when ye come to the crowd that Sukey's with, won't ye kind a shoot easy?"
Fernando promised to do all he could to aid Sukey to escape, and assured him that, when once he was free, the cruel masters should pay for their tyranny. The old man seemed partially satisfied, and, as he rode away, he twisted himself half way round in the saddle to say:
"Now, Fernando, if ye meet Sukey's crowd, I want ye to remember to shoot easy."
"I will not harm Sukey, if I can help it," Fernando answered. Next morning, he bade his parents farewell and, with his clothes tied up in a little bundle, set out on his way to the town.
A flag was streaming from a long pole, and Fernando heard the roll of the drum and the shrill notes of a fife. The company was more than half made up when he arrived. He enlisted at once and four days later the company was ready to march.
As yet the armies of the United States were not organized, and for some time Captain George Rose was at a loss what to do with his volunteers. They were riflemen, ready for any detached service to which they might be assigned. The militia forces raised were, of course, to serve in their own respective States; but the volunteers were allowed to attach to any regiment they chose. For some time, it was doubtful whether Captain Rose would be sent West under Hull and Harrison, or to the North to act under General Jacob Brown.
The latter course was at last decided upon, and they hurried to the northern frontier of New York. But small preparations had been made for the defence of this portion of the frontier. From Oswego to Lake St. Francis, an expansion of the St. Lawrence, General Brown's forces were scattered. The length of this territory was about two hundred miles. There was only one American war-vessel (theOneida) on Lake Ontario. This was commanded by Lieutenant Melancthon Woolsey; while the British, in anticipation of difficulties, had built at Kingston, at the foot of the lake, a small squadron of light vessels-of-war. Brown and Woolsey were authorized to defend the frontier from invasion, but not to act on the offensive except in certain emergencies.
About the 20th of July, Fernando's company joined the regiment of Colonel Bellinger at Sackett's Harbor, at the eastern end of Lake Ontario. Nine days later, the British squadron composed of theRoyal George, 24 guns,Prince Regent, 22 guns,Earl of Moira, 20 guns,Simcoe, 12 guns, andSeneca, 4 guns, appeared and bore down on the American forces there. Fernando was sleeping when the discovery was made, but was soon roused and saw soldiers hauling in theOneidaso as to lay her broadside to the approaching enemy. Colonel Bellinger's militia were many of them raw recruits, and the approach of a fleet unnerved a few of them; but the majority were cool as veterans.
"Take that thirty-two pound gun up on the bluff," commanded the colonel, pointing out an old iron cannon down by the shore.
Fernando assisted them to drag it to the rocky bluff, and the whole battery was placed in charge of Captain Vaughn, a sailing master in the navy. Slowly the fleet bore in, theRoyal George, having the heaviest guns, coming ahead of the others. A wreath of smoke curled up from her forecastle, and a ball, skipping over the water, struck the sandy beach.
Captain Rose and his company of riflemen took up their station on the high bluff, where, should the troops attempt to land, they might do effective work. Fernando had been promoted to sergeant in the company and was quite popular with both officers and men.
For two hours, a cannonade between theRoyal Georgeand the big guns on shore was kept up, with very little effect, when a 32 pound ball from the former came over the bluff and ploughed a furrow near where the riflemen were standing. Fernando ran and caught up the ball and, running with it to Captain Vaughn, said:
"Captain Vaughn, I've been playing ball with the redcoats, and I have caught them out."
"That will just fit our gun," said the captain. "Hand it to the gunner."
Fernando did so. The gunner said:
"Captain, it fits better than our own balls. The shot we have been firing were all too small."
"Send it back to them," said Captain Vaughn.
The gun was trained and fired. The heavy boom rang out over the bluffs and water. The ball went through theRoyal Georgefrom stern to stem, sending splinters as high as her mizzen topsail yard, killing fourteen men and wounding eighteen.
This ended the bombardment. The squadron, alarmed, sailed out of the harbor.
Eight merchant schooners were at Ogdensburg, being converted into American war vessels, and, immediately after being repulsed at Sackett's Harbor, two of the British armed vessels started to Ogdensburg to destroy them. The American schoonerJuliawas armed and, with sixty volunteers from theOneidaand Fernando's company of riflemen in a boat, set out to overtake the British. They caught up with them among the Thousand Islands, on the 31st of July, fought for three hours with the enemy, and then, in the shadows of an intensely dark night, relieved occasionally by flashes of lightning, reached Ogdensburg in safety before morning.
During the armistice which was granted shortly after this, theJuliaand her consort and the six schooners made their way to the lake, where the latter were converted into vessels-of-war.
On the 8th of November, Chauncey appeared in those waters with a fleet of seven armed war-schooners and, after a short cruise, disabled theRoyal Georgeand blockaded the British harbor of Kingston. Fernando, meanwhile, was at Ogdensburg under General Brown, who had about fifteen hundred troops, including the militia. On the 1st of October, the very day of General Brown's arrival, a large flotilla of British bateaux, escorted by a gun-boat, appeared at Prescott, on the opposite side of the river. This flotilla contained armed men, who, on the 4th of October, attempted to cross the river and attack Ogdensburg, but were repulsed by the Americans. Eight days later, Fernando was with Major G.D. Young when he captured a large portion of a British detachment at St. Regis, an Indian village on the line between the United States and Canada. Fernando was close at the side of Lieutenant William L. Marcy (afterward governor of New York), when he captured a British flag, the first trophy of the kind taken on land in the war.
While lying at Ogdensburg, Fernando heard of the daring feat of Lieutenant Jesse Elliott, who, with a picked party of seamen and riflemen, had at Black Rock, under the British heavy guns, captured the war-schoonerCaledoniaand burned theDetroit. While these many stories of the bravery of Americans were thrilling the hearts of patriots, the cowardice of the pompous General Smythe at Buffalo caused much ridicule and humiliation.
Despite all his boasts and threats to invade Canada, he remained on American soil. He was finally dismissed from the service, and, in a petition to congress to reinstate him, he prayed for permission to "die for his country." His petition excited much ridicule, and, at a public celebration of Washington's birthday, a wit proposed the following:
"General Smythe's petition to congress to die for his country. May it be ordered that the prayer of said petition be granted!"
Early in January, 1813, Fernando Stevens' company, being Ohio volunteers, was for some reason, he never knew what, transferred to the army of the West. General William H. Harrison had succeeded Hull in command of this army. Historians do not accord to General Harrison the distinction of greatness, though he was one of the successful generals of the last war with England. It was under him that first victories were gained over the British in the Northwest. Though his name goes down to posterity connected with the battle of the Thames, Colonel Richard M. Johnson was the real hero of that conflict. Johnson's Kentucky riflemen fought and won the battle, though Harrison received the credit. Harrison was even more honorably remembered for his Indian wars, and, as the hero of Tippecanoe, gained a fast hold on the public heart; but Tippecanoe was only a skirmish and, viewed in the light of a battle, could hardly be considered a great victory. The American losses were probably as great, if not greater than the Indians, and it was only an accident that Harrison was not surprised. Tippecanoe was fought by the soldiers, and to their coolness and courage belonged the victory. Critically speaking, General Harrison was inferior in military genius to both Jackson and Brown. He wanted the terrible energy, the almost reckless bravery which characterized these two leaders. He belonged to a different school altogether. His was a policy of Fabius rather than of Marcellus, and this not from necessity but for choice. The bent of his mind was to be prudent, economic of means, willing to listen to advice, a very excellent qualification for a general or a statesman.
The dispute between Harrison and Winchester had been settled before Captain Rose with his company reached the army and joined General Winchester, then on his march to the Raisin, January 21, 1813. As Winchester's volunteers were mostly Kentuckians, Fernando found many friends among them. Some had formerly lived in Ohio. On the same evening, they reached Frenchtown, where they found Colonel Lewis, who, with Allen and six hundred men, had defeated and routed a force of British and Indians under Major Reynolds.
The troops were in the highest spirits, and all were anxious to press on to drive General Proctor from Malden.
The day had been cold, and Fernando was wearied with long marches through snow, ice and mud. The ground was covered with snow which had but a thin frozen crust over it, and the soldiers frequently broke through, especially in the swampy regions they crossed. Their second lieutenant was sick; the first lieutenant, being wounded, was left behind, and the management of the company fell upon Captain Rose and his orderly sergeant, Fernando Stevens.
Captain Rose, though a brave man, loved his ease and comfort, so the most irksome duty fell upon the orderly. He saw that quarters as comfortable as were possible were made for the men. Boards, canvas, brush and everything possible to make a shelter were provided. The wintry sky was clear, and when night came on the stars came out one by one. The moon shone on the snow-covered earth, so soon to be crimsoned with patriotic blood.
Fernando Stevens and Captain Rose were quartered in an old shed building, with a roaring fire in the broad fireplace. Their quarters were quite comfortable, and, after having made all the necessary arrangements for the company's comfort, Fernando partook of a light supper and, wrapping himself in a blanket, lay down on the left side of the broad fireplace to sleep. Corporal Mott entered and told Captain Rose, who sat smoking his pipe, that Colonels Wells and Lewis were having some trouble about their positions.
"Why should they quarrel over that?" asked Captain Rose taking his pipe from his mouth.
"Wells, who is colonel of regulars, claims to outrank Lewis, and demands to be posted on the right."
"That's in an open field."
"Yes; Lewis thinks that, in case of an attack, Wells should be posted in some gardens on the left."
"Lewis knows more about it than Wells or Winchester either," growled Captain Rose.
"Yes; but Winchester decided in favor of Wells. There is also a rumor that Proctor is on his way from Malden to attack us."
"I hope it is so," said Captain Rose. "If he will come here and take his whipping like a man, it will save us going to Malden to give it to him."
Then they wondered what General Harrison was doing and when they would join him; but Fernando left off listening to their conversation and gazed into the glowing fire before which he lay stretched on his blanket.
His mind was busy with his own sad life. All through the long years of trying events, he had never forgotten Morgianna. Her sweet face had haunted him while a slave on the British war-ship. In the camp, or on the battle field, she was ever near him. A thousand times he had said to himself:
"Oh, why can I not forget her? Morgianna is nothing to me. No doubt, long ere this she has married Lieutenant Matson and is happy. May God bless her in her happiness, and may Heaven spare her husband."
It never once entered his mind that she could possibly care for him. She had been so cool, so careless, and seemed so unconcerned on the night of their parting, that he thought she must be glad that he was away and had ceased to annoy her.
Yet her face, as he remembered it that night, lying gazing into the fire, half asleep and half awake, was lovely, and she was blameless. To him, she was a goddess to be worshipped, one incapable of wrong. If she had rejected him, it was right. If she had loved the lieutenant, it was perfectly right; yet he could not crush her image out of his heart. It was indelibly stamped there, and had become a part of his existence.
The bleak northeast wind swept through the woods and howled about the rude shanty, rattling the boards and causing the sentries to shiver, as they drew their cloaks about their shoulders. Fernando felt almost comfortable in this retreat, and the fire burned low, still giving out a generous heat.
Two officers from another company came to their quarters, and the last Fernando remembered was hearing them talking of the disposition of the troops and the probability of meeting the enemy and sharing the glory which Lewis and Allen had won but three days before.
Their voices were low and indistinct and finally became mingled with his dreams of the past, forming a mass of events, sights and sounds which at first had no meaning. At last the scene changed. The officers ceased talking, the firelight disappeared, and his dreaming fancy, which had been struggling with these realities, was freed to take what course it chose.
He was once more on the sands of Mariana. He saw the great white stone house on the hill and the form of Morgianna descending toward the seashore. He knew he had been gone for years, was conscious that their parting had been unpleasant, and yet her appearance seemed to inspire his heart with hope. The sun's golden rays fell upon the bright, fairy-like being as, with a glad smile she hastened toward him.
"You have come at last," she said, with a happy smile. "I have waited so long, oh, so long, that I feared you would never come."
"Morgianna!" he cried, starting forward and clasping her in his arms. "Are you pleased to see me?"
"I am happy, Fernando, oh, so happy----"
Then he was partially awakened by some one throwing logs of wood on the fire, and he had an indistinct impression of hearing a soldier say:
"It's four o'clock and has begun to snow a little. We'll have it cold as blazes by morning."
As the fire roared, and the wind whistled about their miserable barracks, he sank away into dreamland again. He had hardly been sufficiently awakened to break the thread of his dreams. His mind however was disturbed by the entrance of the officer, and though he wooed back the gentle dream, it had lost much of its charm and brightness.
He saw Morgianna no longer wreathed in sweet smiles; her face was expressive of distress and agony. The joy and sunlight had given place to sorrow and gloom. What had occasioned this change?
"Morgianna, do you not love me?"
She bowed her head and wept.
"What is amiss?"
She pointed to her once beautiful home, and he discovered that it was in flames. Painted demons, whose yells seemed to make the earthquake, were dancing about the blazing, crackling building. Then wild cheers came from the ocean, with the boom of a cannon.
He saw British marines, headed by Captain Snipes and Lieutenant Matson, leap from boats and rush toward them as they stood on the beach.
"Fly! Morgianna, fly!" he cried.
She turned to run, and Fernando, all unarmed as he was, wheeled to face the foe. Suddenly there came a rattling crash of firearms. He saw Morgianna throw up her arms, and he sprang toward her, as she fell bleeding at his feet. He uttered a cry of horror and became conscious of some one shaking his shoulder.
"Wake up, for Heaven sake, awake! we are attacked!" cried the voice of Captain Rose.
On his ear, there still came a confused noise of cries, shouts, reports of firearms and boom of artillery.
"Sergeant Stevens, awake!"
He sprang to his feet and seized his rifle. The roaring of the battle could be plainly heard, and a cannon-ball came crashing through the top of their miserable shanty.
They leaped out to find all in utter confusion. General Winchester, who, despite his faults, was no coward, was mounted on his horse rallying his men at every point. Wells was forming on the open fields, and Lewis, in a very disadvantageous position, was making a strong fight. It was scarcely daylight yet. The air was sharp and frosty; but the snow had ceased falling. Day was dawning; but in the deeper shadows of the wood the night lingered in patches.
From the forest came those streams of fire, those storms of grape-shot and the yells of savage demons. A bombshell came screaming through the air and fell into one of the shanties, exploding and scattering the loose boards in every direction.
"Who has attacked us?" some of the officers asked Winchester.
"Proctor from Malden," was the answer.
It was just as day began to dawn, that Proctor, with his combined force of British, Canadians and Indians, attacked the Americans, while Fernando was still lost in the mazes of a troubled dream. With his right covered with artillery, and his flanks with marksmen, Proctor advanced at first gallantly; but when he approached within musket-shot of the pickets, he was met by such a galling and incessant fire, that the centre of his army fell back in confusion. On the left, however, he was more successful. Perceiving the exposed situation of the detachment under Wells, Proctor hastened to concentrate all his forces against it. A furious conflict ensued on this part of the field. Sharp and rapid volleys followed in quick succession from either side, while high and clear above the terrible din of battle, rose the war-whoop of savages and the wild cheers of the Kentuckians. That little band, unprotected as it was, could not long hold out against overwhelming numbers. The sun rose over the bleak woods, and, after a short fight of twenty minutes, Winchester ordered Wells to fall back and gain the enclosures of Lewis.
At the first symptom of retreat, the enemy redoubled their exertions and pressed so obstinately on the Americans, that the little line was soon thrown into disorder. A panic seized the Kentuckians, who had just defended themselves so bravely, and mistaking the command to fall back, for directions to retreat, they rushed to the river, which they crossed on the ice, and began to fly through the woods, in the direction of the Maumee Rapids. Exhilarated by victory, the British gave pursuit, the chase being led by the savages, who tasted, in anticipation, the blood of the fugitives. In vain Winchester, riding among the men, endeavored to rally them; in vain Colonels Lewis and Allen, hurrying from their enclosures with a company of fifty men each, struggled to check the torrent of defeat. Nothing would avail. Allen fell, bravely fighting in the desperate attempt; while Winchester, with Lewis and other officers were taken prisoners. The rout now became a massacre. The Indians, like hungry tigers, pursued the soldiers and brought them down with rifle or tomahawk. Of the whole of that chivalrous band which had left the Raisin with Winchester two days before, all were slaughtered except forty who were taken prisoners and twenty-eight who escaped. The troops at Frenchtown, about six hundred able-bodied men, surrendered. Sixty-four wounded prisoners were burned in a house.
Why dwell on the horrors of the River Raisin? They are matters of history which had better be forgotten than remembered. Fernando Stevens' company did excellent work until the retreat began. Captain Rose, with his sharpshooters, sought to cover the retreat of the Americans, but discovered that they were about to be flanked.
"Sergeant, Sergeant!" cried Captain Rose, "we must fly!"
The two officers were almost alone on the field; but, taking to their heels, they soon outstripped three big Indians who were trying to head them off. Fernando shot one of the savages with his pistol and, dodging the hatchets which the others threw at him, charged them with his clubbed rifle and knocked one down. The other fled. Fernando did not attempt to pursue him, but flew as fast as his legs could carry him to the river.
He had reached the middle of the frozen stream, which was covered with ghastly forms, when Captain Rose suddenly clasped his hand to his side and uttered a groan.
"Captain, are you hit?" he asked.
Captain Rose made no answer, but turned partially around. His eyes were closed; his jaw fell, and Fernando saw he was sinking. He caught him in his arms; but Captain Rose was dead before he touched the ice.
There was no time to waste with dead friends, and Fernando fled to the wood beyond.
For a long time, the Indians were close at his heels. Once they were so near that he heard a tomahawk as it came fluttering through the air past his head. Then the sounds of pursuit grew less, and at last he found himself alone on a hill. Three Indians were following on his trail, and he concealed himself behind a tree until they were within range of his rifle, and then fired.
One of them fell, and his companions ran away.
Fernando continued his flight until nearly night, when he fell in with four Kentuckians, who had escaped the massacre, and they proceeded to the Maumee Rapids, where General Harrison was building Fort Meigs.
Fernando was in the fort when it was besieged several weeks later by Proctor and Tecumseh with fully two thousand men. General Clay coming to his assistance on the 5th of May, Proctor retreated.
Colonel Dudley made a sortie from Fort Meigs on the same day and was drawn into an ambuscade. He was mortally wounded and lost six hundred and fifty men.
Mr. Madison, who had been re-elected president of the United States, showed a disposition to prosecute the war with great vigor. While the success of the Americans on land was not very encouraging, to the surprise of everybody, their greatest achievements were on water. England's boasted navies seemed to have become second to the American war-vessels. On Lake Erie, Commodore Oliver Perry, in command of an inferior fleet, had won a signal victory over Commodore Barclay after a long and hotly contested battle. There has never been such a remarkable naval victory on fresh water. Perry's famous dispatch to General Harrison, "We have met the enemy and they are ours," has become a proverb.
Shortly after the repulse of Proctor, Fernando, who had taken a place in another company, was sent to Fort Stephenson, then commanded by Major George Croghan, a regular army officer only twenty-one years of age. Proctor's dusky allies marched across the country to assist the British in the siege of the fort; and when, on the afternoon of the 31st, the British transports and gunboats appeared at a turn in the river a mile from the fort, the woods were swarming with Indians.
[Illustration: JAMES MADISON.]
Within the fort, all were calm, pale, yet determined. Only one hundred and sixty men were there to oppose the hosts of Proctor and Tecumseh. Proctor sent a demand to the fort for surrender, accompanied by the usual threat of massacre by the Indians in case of refusal. To his surprise, Major Croghan sent a defiant refusal. A cannonade from the gunboats and howitzers which the British had landed commenced.
All night long the great guns played upon the fort without any serious effect, occasionally answered by the solitary six-pound cannon of the garrison, which was rapidly shifted from one block house to another, to give the impression that the fort was armed with several guns. During the night, the British dragged three six-pound cannon to a point higher than the fort to open on it in the morning.
It was a trying night for Fernando. All night long, the incessant thunder of cannon shook the air, and the great balls, striking the sides of the earthworks, or bursting over their heads, presented a scene grand but awful.
Morning came slowly and wearily to the besieged. As the gray dawn melted into the rosy hues of sunrise, many a brave man within that fort looked up for the last time, as he thought, but still with no unmanly fear, only with that sad feeling which the boldest will experience when he sees himself about to be immolated. Such a feeling, perhaps, crossed the heart of Leonidas, when he fastened on his buckler and waited for the Persian thousands. Fernando stood near Croghan, who was in front of his men, calm in that hour of extreme peril. It soon became apparent that the enemy did not intend an immediate assault, for, with the battery of six pieces, they began a fearful cannonade.
"Lie under the breastworks," said Croghan to his men as the balls were hurled about the fort, or bounded from the ramparts. The surface of the ground in the line of fire, soon became covered with smoke, which every few moments was rent by a whistling ball.
All that long forenoon Fernando Stevens remained behind the works occasionally picking off a gunner at long range. When the hot August sun began to decline in the West, the roar of artillery seemed to increase rather than diminish. At last he heard the young commander say:
"They are concentrating on the northwest corner of the fort; that is the point from which the attack will be made." He called to Fernando and a dozen other sharpshooters and hastened to the threatened spot. Every man who could be spared from other quarters was put in requisition, and every bag of sand and flour that could be found was hurriedly collected and sent to strengthen the angle.
"Lieutenant Stevens," said Major Croghan, "get your riflemen together and pick off those fellows as fast as you can. Never mind those bags of sand. Others will attend to them."
Fernando and his score of sharpshooters soon began dropping the redcoats as fast as they could see them. The solitary cannon, the only hope of the defenders, was loaded to its fullest capacity and trained so as to enfilade the enemy. The gunner who rammed home the charge said:
"By thunder, she's almost full to the muzzle. Shouldn't wonder if she'd bust." Each soldier took his position. A tremendous volley of cannon shots suddenly rained on the fort. It seemed as if the British had fired every gun at the same instant. A profound silence succeeded within, which lasted for perhaps two minutes, at the end of which time the enemy was seen to advance through the smoke, in one compact column, with the steady tread of assured victors. When Croghan gave the order to fire, such a withering volley was poured in by the garrison, that the British reeled and fell into disorder. Whatever others may have done in that fire, Fernando's sharpshooters wasted no bullets. For a moment, the Britons wavered and were about to fly, when Lieutenant-Colonel Short, who led the British in assault, sprang to the front of his soldiers and, waving his sword above his head, cried:
"Cut away the pickets, my brave boys, and show the d--d Yankees no quarter!"
A wild, angry shout answered this appeal, and the ranks recovering their order, the head of the column rushed forward, and leaped down into the ditch, which was soon densely crowded. This was the time for which Croghan had waited. Another minute and the fort would have been captured. The over-loaded six-pounder, so trained as to rake the assailants, now bore fully on the masses of soldiery in the ditch. The dark mask which had concealed it was suddenly jerked aside, and Croghan cried:
"Fire!"
The match was applied. A clap of thunder, a sheet of flame, a hissing sound of grape, shrieks and groans, and Fernando saw whole ranks mowed down, as the white smoke arose for a moment hiding the prospect from view. When the veil of battle blew aside, he saw such a scene of horror as he had never before witnessed. At first a lane was perceptible extending through the densest portion of the assaulting mass, marking the path traversed by the shot; but as the distance from the gun increased, and the grape scattered, this clearly defined line gave place to a prospect of the wildest confusion. One third of those who had entered the ditch lay there a shapeless, quivering mass. In many instances, the dead had fallen on the wounded, and as the latter struggled to extricate themselves, the scene resembled that depicted in old paintings of the final judgment, where fiends and men wrestle in horrible contortions. Groans, shrieks and curses more terrible than all rose from that Golgotha. Lieutenant-Colonel Short was among the slain. The few who retained life and strength, after the first second of amazement, rushed from the post of peril, leaped wildly upon the bank, and, communicating their terror to the rest of the column, the whole took flight and buried itself in the neighboring woods; while such a shout went up to heaven from the conquerors as had never been heard on that wild shore before. Well might the Americans exult, for the successful resistance was against ten times their own number. The British loss was one hundred and fifty. That hot day, August 2, 1813, at five o'clock in the evening, George Croghan by one cannon-shot immortalized himself.
Fernando Stevens had been under a terrible strain all the day and the night before, and no sooner was the enemy gone, than he sank exhausted on the ground with scores of others.
ON LAND.
Shortly after the gallant and successful defence of Fort Stephenson, Fernando, with a detached squad of twenty riflemen, joined General Harrison, and was subsequently assigned to the regiment of Colonel Richard M. Johnson, whose Kentuckians won the battle of the Thames.
After his signal defeat at Fort Stephenson, Proctor with his British troops returned to Malden by water, while Tecumseh with his followers passed over by land, round the head of Lake Erie, and joined him at that point. Discouraged by want of success, and having lost all confidence in General Proctor, Tecumseh seriously meditated a withdrawal from the contest, but was induced by Proctor to remain.
From a distant shore, Tecumseh witnessed Perry's wonderful naval battle; but of course could not determine which had been victorious. Proctor, to reconcile the chief, said:
"My fleet has whipped the Americans; but the vessels being much injured, have gone into Put-in Bay to refit and will be here in a few days."
[Illustration:TECUMSEH.]
This base falsehood did not deceive the wily Indian. The sagacious eye of Tecumseh soon perceived indications of a retreat. He finally demanded, in the name of the Indians under his command, to be heard, and on September 18, 1813, delivered to Proctor, as the representative of their great father, the king, the following speech:
"Father, listen to your children. You have them now all before you. The war before this, our British father gave the hatchet to his red children, when our old chiefs were alive. They are now dead. In that war our father was thrown on his back by the Americans, and our father took them by the hand without our knowledge, and we are afraid that our father will do so again at this time. Summer before last, when I came forward with my red brethren and was ready to take up the hatchet in favor of our British father, we were told not to be in a hurry, that he had not yet determined to fight the Americans. Listen! when war was declared, our father stood up and gave us the tomahawk, and told us that he was ready to strike the Americans; that he wanted our assistance, and that he would certainly get our lands back which the Americans had taken from us. Listen! you told us at that time, to bring forward our families to this place, and we did so; and you promised to take care of them, and they should want for nothing, while the men would go and fight the enemy; that we need not trouble ourselves about the enemies' garrisons; that we knew nothing about them, and that our father would attend to that part of the business. You also told your red children that you should take good care of your garrison here, which made our hearts glad. Listen! when we were last at the rapids, it is true, we gave you little assistance. It is hard to fight people who live like ground-hogs. Father, listen! Our fleet has gone out; we know they have fought; we have heard their great guns; but we know nothing of what has happened to our father (Commodore Barclay) with one arm.
"Our ships have gone one way, and we are much astonished to see our father tying up everything and preparing to run away the other, without letting his red children know what his intentions are. You always told us to remain here and take care of our lands; it made our hearts glad to hear that was your wish. Our great father, the king, is the head, and you represent him. You always told us you would never draw your foot off British ground; but now, father, we see that you are drawing back, and we are sorry to see our father doing so without seeing the enemy. We must compare your conduct to a fat dog, that carries its tail on its back, but when affrighted, drops it between its legs and runs off. Father, listen! the Americans have not yet defeated us by land, neither are we sure that they have done so by water; we, therefore, wish to remain here and fight our enemy, should they make their appearance. If they defeat us, we will then retreat with our father. At the battle of the rapids, the Americans certainly defeated us, and when we returned to our father's fort at that place, the gates were shut against us. We were afraid that it would now be the case; but instead of that, we now see our British father preparing to march out of his garrison. Father, you have got the arms and ammunition which our great father sent for his red children. If you have any idea of going away, give them to us, and you may go and welcome, for us. Our lives are in the hands of the Great Spirit. We are determined to defend our lands, and, if it be his will, we wish to leave our bones upon them."
Unless the unscrupulous Proctor was utterly lost to shame, his cheek must have burned as he listened to the stinging reproof of the noble Indian Chief. Ever since the white men began their political struggles for power on the American continent, the unfortunate Indian has been their tool, and their scapegoat. Cheated, deceived by falsehoods and false friends, he was ever thrust forward as a sacrifice to the hatred of contending white men. Spanish, English and French were all alike equally guilty.
Proctor and Tecumseh fled from Malden at the approach of the Americans. They had been gone scarce an hour, when the head of the American column appeared playing Yankee Doodle.
Fernando Stevens was with Colonel Johnson's riflemen, when, on the 29th of September, they reached Detroit, while Harrison was encamped at Sandwich. Informed that Proctor and Tecumseh were flying eastward toward the Moravian town on the river Thames, or La Tranche, as the French called the stream, eighty miles from Detroit, the American forces, about thirty-five hundred strong, on October 2, 1813, began pursuit. Johnson's mounted riflemen led the van, while General Selby, a hero of King's Mountain, followed with his Kentuckians, eager to avenge the slaughter of their friends at River Raisin. For three days the pursuit continued. At last, on the morning of the 5th of October, the army came up with Proctor. Fernando was with the advance guard when they came on a small party of Indians. The sharp crack of their rifles warned the armies to prepare for action, and both began to form.
The victory which followed properly belonged to Johnson and his mounted Kentuckians, though, as historians seldom know any one save the heads of armies, it has been accorded to Harrison.
Fernando galloped back to Colonel Johnson and informed him that the enemy was posted on a narrow strip of dry land, with the river Thames on the left, and a swamp on the right. Tecumseh, with about twelve hundred savages, occupied the extreme right on the eastern margin of the swamp. The infantry, eight hundred in number, were posted between the river and swamp, the men drawn up in open order. They waited for Harrison's orders to attack. The general at first designed to attack with infantry; but, perceiving the position of the British regulars to be favorable for a charge, he turned to Johnson and asked:
"Will you undertake it?"
"I have accustomed my men to it from the first," he answered.
"Then charge!"
Galloping to the head of his regiment, Johnson said:
"My brave Kentucky lads, to us is accorded the honor of winning this battle. Forward!" The whole cavalcade, more than a thousand strong, went thundering over the solid plain. In the whole range of modern warfare, perhaps there has never been a charge which, for reckless, romantic courage, could compare to this. The Kentuckians were armed only with long-barrelled rifles, hatchets and knives. None had sabres, so essential to cavalry; few had pistols, and there was not a carbine among them; but, as Johnson had said, they were accustomed to those charges on horseback, and could load and fire those long rifles with marvellous rapidity even while in the saddle. Their hatchets and knives were as deadly as the sabre. As they thundered down on the enemy, leaving the infantry and General Harrison a mile behind, Johnson discovered that the ground on which the British were drawn was too narrow for his whole regiment to charge abreast, so he divided his force, sending his brother Lieutenant-Colonel James Johnson with one division, against the regulars, while he with the other turned off into the swamp, and fell like a tornado upon the Indians under Tecumseh.
Fernando went with the division against the British; but he heard the splashing of mud and water, the cracking of rifles and wild shouts of combatants, as, through smoke, spray, mud and low bushes, the Kentuckians under Colonel Johnson charged the ambushed Indians. His own division continued galloping forward, until they were close on the British, who opened a heavy fire. The fire checked them; but Johnson shouted:
"Forward, Kentuckians!"
Ashamed of their momentary hesitation, the men shook their bridles and, with wild huzzahs, dashed right through the enemy, shooting right and left. Wheeling rapidly about, as soon as the British line was passed the Kentuckians poured in a destructive volley on their rear, and they fled, or threw down their guns and cried for quarter, which was granted. Proctor, with a part of his command, escaped, leaving his carriage and papers.
Fernando's horse had been wounded in the shoulder, and as he dismounted to try to alleviate the suffering of the poor beast, he heard the conflict still raging on his right. Colonel Johnson with his half of the Kentuckians had struck Tecumseh and was routing his entire force. The Indians fought stubbornly until Tecumseh fell, and hearing his voice no longer they fled in confusion. A complete victory was gained before General Harrison reached the field.
Some historians of good authority state that Johnson shot Tecumseh with his pistol, just as his own horse fell dead under him;--that as the colonel's horse was sinking under innumerable wounds, he discovered a large Indian, whose regal feathers denoted his rank, coming toward him with uplifted tomahawk. He drew a pistol and shot him through the heart. This has been denied. [Footnote: Seventeen years ago an aged man, who was in the conflict, informed the author that he saw Tecumseh fall, that he was shot through the head by a private soldier; "a big Kentuckian."]
Fernando accompanied the army of General Harrison to Niagara to join the army of the centre; but Harrison, becoming offended at General Armstrong, secretary of war, resigned and quit the service. Fernando with his detached party, seven only of Captain Rose's original company, joined the army under Gen. Boyd on November 10th, 1813, was with them on the next day, the 11th, when they fought the enemy five hours at Chrysler's farm in Canada. The Americans were driven from the field with a loss of three hundred and thirty-nine.
The writer must pause a moment to mention some of the stirring incidents in which Fernando did not participate. On March 4th, 1813, Mr. Madison was inaugurated for his second term. Terrence, who chanced to be in Washington, greeted the president with: "Now Misther Prisident, we'll whip the British sure."
The Emperor of Russia having offered his services as mediator between the United States and Great Britain, the president, on March 8th, 1813, appointed commissioners to treat for peace. On the 10th of April, the British attacked Lewiston, Delaware, but after several days bombardment abandoned the siege. On April 27, the Americans under General Pike besieged upper York under General Sheaffe. The British, deserted by their Indian allies, who fled before the roar of artillery, took post with the garrison near the governor's house and opened a fire of grape and round-shot on the invader. The battery was silenced and all thought the British had surrendered. General Pike was sitting on the stump of a tree talking with a captive British officer, when a tremor of the earth was felt, 'immediately followed by a tremendous explosion near by. The British, unable to hold the fort had fired a magazine of gunpowder on the edge of the lake. The effect was terrible. Fragments of timber and huge stones, of which the magazine walls were built, were scattered in every direction over a space of several hundred feet. When the smoke floated away, the scene was appalling. Fifty-two Americans lay dead, and one hundred and eighty others were wounded. Forty of the British were also slain. General Pike, two of his aides and the captive officer were mortally hurt. The dying general was taken to one of Chauncey's vessels. His benumbed ears heard the shout of victory, when the British ensign was pulled down at York. Just before he died, the captured British flag was brought to him. He smiled and made a sign for it to be placed under his head. This was done, and he expired. Though Sheaffe and the larger part of his force escaped, the civil authorities and a larger part of the militia formally surrendered York. The American loss in killed and wounded was two hundred and eighty-six; the British lost one hundred and forty besides prisoners.
On May 27, General Scott and Commodore Perry captured Fort George at Niagara, and at the same time Sir George Prevost was repulsed at Sackett's Harbor, New York, by General Brown. On June 6th, Generals Chandler and Winder were surprised and captured, though their troops retired. On the 23d, Colonel Boerstler with six hundred men was captured at Beaver Dam by a superior force of British.
While Perry was defeating the enemy on Lake Erie, and the Johnson brothers were defeating Proctor and slaying Tecumseh, the discontent which that redoubtable chief had stirred up in the South was beginning to have its effect among the Creeks. On August 30, 1813, they attacked Fort Mimms, which they set on fire and captured, massacring all but twenty out of four hundred men, women and children. The British agent at Pensacola, it is said, had offered five dollars each for scalps, and many of the savages carried the scalps of women and children there to claim their reward.
A cry for help went northward and the brave Tennesseeans flew to the relief of their neighbors. General Andrew Jackson, military commander of that region, was disabled by a wound received from a brilliant but brutal ruffian named Thomas H. Benton, who was afterward United States Senator from Missouri.
Late in September, Colonel John Coffee, at the head of five hundred cavalry, hurried to the Creek frontier. He rendezvoused at Fayetteville, where Jackson joined him early in October. On the 3d, Coffee attacked the Indians at Tallahatchee (near Jacksonville, Benton county, Alabama) and killed two hundred warriors;--not a warrior escaped. On the 8th of November, Jackson defeated the Indians with great slaughter at Talladega. Late in November, General Floyd with nine hundred Georgians and four hundred friendly Indians attacked the hostile savages at Autossee and drove them from the holy ground.
Weatherford, the Tecumseh of the South, was attacked, on the 23d of November, at Econachaca. Weatherford was defeated and escaped by leaping his horse from a precipice into the river and swimming to the other side.
On January 21, 1814, General Jackson was fiercely attacked by the Creeks at Emucfau on the west bank of the Tallapoosa River. Though he repulsed the Indians, he thought it best to retire from the field.
The Creeks were gathered in great numbers at the "Horse-shoe Bend" of the Tallapoosa. A strong breastwork, composed mostly of hickory logs, was built across the neck of the peninsula. The Indians had great stores of provisions and supplies at this place.
On the 27th of March, the Americans, led by Sam Houston, stormed this fort and routed the Indians, whom they shot down like wild beasts. The power and spirit of the Creeks was broken, and even the haughty Weatherford sued for peace. Save the trouble caused by the Spanish and British, the war in the South was practically ended.
Fernando, who was still with the northern army, had been shifted about so much, that he had received but one or two letters from home. He had participated in the affair at Black Rock, had seen Buffalo burned, and while lying in camp near the ruins, learned of the ravages of the enemy on the Delaware and Chesapeake bays. As yet the British, perhaps out of respect for the Peace Party, had done little damage to the coast of New England. Fernando often thought of the Maryland Coast, of Baltimore and Mariana, and wondered if she were there yet, in the great, white stone house on the hill.
One day, about March 1st, 1813, he received a letter from his mother. It was the first news from home for nearly a year, for the facilities for fast mails were not so good then as now.
"I have glorious news to tell you, Fernando." she said, among other things. "Your friend Sukey is at home. His ship theMacedoniawas captured by the frigateUnited States. He says if he can learn where you are, he is coming to you."
There was a slip of paper in his mother's letter on which was written in a well-known hand,
"Fernando, I am coming soon, for I am in the game now. SUKEY."
Fernando answered the letter, saying that he was soon to march under General Wilkinson into Canada. A few days later, the Americans under Wilkinson invaded Canada and, on March 30th, were repulsed at La Colle. Fernando returned with others to the American side. He was near Oswego, New York, when the British captured and destroyed it. He was assigned to Brown's command and was with it in the capture of Fort Erie, on July 3d. Fort Erie was the chief impediment to the invasion of Canada.
Prompt measures were taken to secure the advantages gained by this victory; for it was known that General Riall, who was then the chief commander of the British on the frontier, was moving on Fort Erie. Early on the morning of the 3d, learning of the peril of the fort, he sent forward some royal Scots to reinforce the garrison. At Chippewa they heard of the fall of the fort, and Riall determined to attack the Americans next day. To meet this force, General Brown sent General Scott forward with Towsen's artillery.
At noon on the 5th, Scott was joined by Porter with his volunteers and Indians. The British also were reinforced. Nearly half the day was spent by the two armies feeling of each other. Skirmishers were deployed and an occasional shot fired; but it was not until afternoon that they came together in an earnest struggle. The fight was long and desperate; but the Americans triumphed and defeated Riall and the veterans of Wellington. They lost one hundred and thirty-three killed and forty-six missing, while the Americans' loss was sixty killed and two hundred and sixty-eight wounded and missing.
The English troops in that portion of Canada hastened to concentrate. On the 25th of July, General Brown, being informed that a detachment of the enemy had invaded American soil, hurried General Scott forward to attack the party at the mouth of the Niagara, hoping by this division to recall the foe. General Scott at the head of thirteen hundred men came suddenly across a superior force at Lundy's Lane, under Generals Drummond and Riall. A desperate conflict ensued, during which General Brown arrived at dark, and, withdrawing Scott's brigade, the fight was resumed. On a height at the head of the lane the enemy had posted a battery. General Brown asked Colonel Miller if he could take it.
"I will try," he answered.
Amid a storm of grape, canister and leaden balls, the battery was taken and victory won. Several unsuccessful efforts were made by the foe to regain this elevation. The combat, which had begun before dark, raged until midnight. By this time, both Generals Brown and Scott were wounded and forced to retire from the field. The command now devolved on General Ripley. The enemy being repulsed, Ripley concluded to retire to camp, whence, after refreshing his men, he was directed to march by daylight and engage the foe; but, finding the enemy's force had been much increased during the night, Ripley thought it advisable to retreat, and accordingly retired to Fort Erie, destroying the bridges as he went. The loss of the British at Lundy's Lane was eighty-five killed, five hundred and fifty-five wounded and two hundred and fifty-four missing. The American loss in killed, wounded and missing was eight hundred and sixty.
General Ripley used every exertion to strengthen Fort Erie before the enemy should arrive.
At midnight during the battle of Lundy's Lane, Fernando Stevens and about fifty sharpshooters became separated from the American army in the darkness, and at dawn, when the retreat began to Fort Erie, they found themselves cut off by the enemy. Three or four hundred British grenadiers were sent in pursuit of them, and they continued to retreat skirmishing along the way for three days, until they fell in with some New York militia hurrying to the southern part of the State. There was nothing better than to go with them. Fernando was chosen captain of the company, and recruits soon swelled his numbers to a hundred. On reaching New York he reported to Brown, for being a detached company, he had no colonel to whom he could report. Brown had received orders by this time to send all forces available to Washington, which was being threatened by General Boss, and Fernando's riflemen were ordered South. The Americans under Ripley were besieged at Fort Erie on August 4th. On the 15th, they repulsed the enemy with a heavy loss (962 men). On the 11th of September, Commodore McDonough of the American navy captured the British fleet under Commodore Downie. A simultaneous attack on Plattsburgh by Provost miscarried by failure of the fleet and panic of the soldiers. On the 17th, a sortie was made from Fort Erie, and the British works were surprised and taken with a loss of one thousand to the enemy.
The New England coast, which had, in the early part of the war, been exempt from the ravages of the English, was now threatened. England came to the conclusion that the New Englanders were blinding them with professions of friendship, in order to preserve their own peace and prosperity. Despite their professed objections to the war, New England continually sent volunteers to the aid of the country's cause. The British attacked various points on the New England coast. At Stonington, on August 9, 1814, they were repulsed. Though Boston was threatened, it was not bombarded.
Fernando Stevens with over one hundred men reached Philadelphia, where he found two regiments of regulars marching to Washington. He accompanied them. The second day's march from Philadelphia, they were overtaken by two mounted men dressed in citizen's clothes, who inquired for Captain Stevens. They proved to be Sukey and Terrence.
"I've been runnin' all over creation looking for you," Sukey declared. "How can you skip from one side o' the earth to the other as easily as a flea can cross a hammock? I went within sixty miles of Fort Erie the day after the fight,--lost you;--heard you were in New York,--went after you,--lost you; heard you were in Philadelphia,--went there,--lost you and found Terrence. We supposed you were with the soldiers and came after you."
Terrence had just returned from a cruise; and his shipPrivateer Tomhad been so badly damaged in a gale, that it would take weeks to repair her, so he came with Sukey.
Sukey had a terrible story to tell of captivity and service on theMacedonian, which we reserve for the next chapter.