by Mark Zuehlke
But his army was still painfully raw. Col. Robert Purdy, commanding the 4th U.S. Infantry Regiment, described it as “composed principally of recruits who had been but a short time in the service, and had not been exercised with that rigid discipline so essentially necessary to constitute the soldier. They had indeed been taught various evolutions, but a spirit of subordination was foreign to their views.”6
Hampton had accepted this command reluctantly, consenting only when promised that he would be independent and report directly to Washington. But when President James Madison approved Armstrong’s new operational plan, he did so with the proviso that Wilkinson would be in overall command of the newly designated Military District No. 9, which included the commands of Harrison and Hampton. “I ask from the President … my immediate discharge,” an infuriated Hampton demanded.
Armstrong responded with mollification. His command would be separate and distinct, just not independent. Surely he must understand that Wilkinson, as the United States Army’s most senior officer, could not be embarrassed by having the more junior Hampton commanding on an equal footing. That would run against convention. What Armstrong could do, however, was directly oversee the entire operation—something he had sought since taking over the War Department. “I shall be with you throughout the campaign and I pledge to you my honor as a soldier that your rights shall not be invaded. I forbear to transmit your letter to the President until I receive your reply.”
“He has locked the door on me,” Hampton growled. The general would serve, but only until the campaign’s end. Then he would resign. Meanwhile he promised to be ready to march on September 20 with 4,500 regulars and 1,500 militiamen.7 The objective would be Montreal.
The most obvious route was a direct one from Champlain northwest of the lake bearing its name across the Canadian border at Odelltown and from there almost due north to L’Acadie and then through country that was primarily a scruffy mix of swamps and woods to gain the St. Lawrence across from Montreal. On reaching Odelltown, however, his scouts brushed up against a mixed force of French-Canadian militia supported by a small band of Iroquois, and Hampton abruptly called a halt. His soldiers groused anxiously about the dangers inherent in fighting a large force of Indians. After a personal reconnaissance, Hampton reversed course back to New York. He wrote Armstrong to say that the unusually dry summer had dried up most of the wells and streams, so persisting would have exposed his army to death by thirst.8
But Hampton was not going to give up. Instead, he advanced west along the Chazy River to Four Corners. From here he would pick up the easterly coursing arc of the Châteauguay River to where it joined the English River and then follow this stream’s descent to the St. Lawrence. This would place his army opposite Lachine, within a day’s march of Montreal, while always having water close at hand. Hampton set off at a leisurely pace, reaching Four Corners on September 25. Here, he received orders from Armstrong to hold, as Wilkinson would not be able to move for several weeks.9
Wilkinson, meanwhile, was still puzzling over whether to attack Kingston or advance up the St. Lawrence. The day after his arrival at Sackets Harbor he convened a council of war where his intentions, he later wrote, met unanimous endorsement from the officers present. The troops stationed on Lake Ontario would concentrate at Sackets, most having to be moved from Fort George. In cooperation with Commodore Isaac Chauncey’s squadron, “a bold feint” would be made on Kingston while the main army would “slip down the St. Lawrence, lock up the enemy in our rear to starve or surrender, or oblige him to follow us without artillery, baggage, or provisions, or eventually to lay down arms; to sweep the St. Lawrence of armed craft, and in concert with the division under Major-General Hampton to take Montreal.”10
Having clearly stated his plan, Wilkinson made no haste to implement it. Only on August 30 did he move to Fort Niagara to assemble the soldiers on the Niagara Peninsula for the move to Sackets Harbor. Immediately upon arrival there a fever rendered him bedridden. Although he could have put peninsular commander Brig. Gen. John Boyd in charge, Wilkinson refused. Instead, nothing further was done until October 1, when Chauncey began ferrying troops from Fort George to Sackets Harbor. Over the next two days 3,500 men were shifted, as Wilkinson effectively stripped the peninsula of its occupation force except for an unruly garrison of New York militia commanded by Brig. Gen. George McClure and some Canadian irregulars led by Joseph Willcocks who had cast their lot in with the Americans. On October 2, the commander returned to Sackets Harbor with the final lift of soldiers. He now had about 8,000 men.
Back on the Niagara Peninsula, McClure and Willcocks either exerted little control over the actions of their men or actively encouraged them to pillage farms and burn the barns in areas they controlled. Finally, in November, as the depredations increased and came to the attention of Maj. Gen. John Vincent at Burlington Heights, he detached a force of 378 regulars of the 8th Regiment of Foot along with some volunteers and Indian warriors under Col. John Murray. Establishing an outpost at Forty Mile Creek, they harried McClure’s men, slowly regaining control of more of the peninsula. At the same time, the New York militia were taking their leave the moment their short-term enlistments expired. McClure could soon barely maintain any form of occupation. He began to consider a withdrawal across the Niagara River to Fort Niagara.11
Wilkinson, meanwhile, no sooner re-established himself in Sackets Harbor than a rather unwelcome visitor arrived in the form of Secretary Armstrong, who announced his plan to run the War Department from there in order to better oversee the forthcoming operation. Armstrong was fed up with delays. Wilkinson seemed no more inclined to engage the British than Dearborn. Hearing that Kingston had been reinforced, he fumed. “With nine day.’ start of the enemy what might not have been done? At Kingston we shall no longer find him naked and napping.”12Wilkinson was dismayed to realize that Armstrong was effectively usurping his command, and the two men began to bicker over details of the operation and its whole purpose. Always obsessively secretive, Armstrong began issuing directives and orders that affected the commands of his generals without informing them of what he was about. Chief among these was an instruction to the quartermaster general to construct winter quarters for Hampton’s army on the Châteauguay River just inside Canada. If Armstrong expected to carry Montreal, what purpose did such quarters serve? Hampton would winter in the town. Only if the offensive failed should this preparation “against contingencies,” as Armstrong described it, be necessary.
The war secretary, who had repeatedly prodded Wilkinson to attack Kingston rather than move on Montreal, abruptly reversed course. Perversely, Wilkinson, too, switched about. Bring Hampton’s army here, he argued, and with 12,000 men he would overwhelm the 4,000 troops he believed garrisoned at Kingston. Lake Ontario would be theirs, Upper Canada finished. Armstrong icily replied that at least300 scows and other small boats would be required to carry such an army to the Canadian shore and the landing easily repulsed. Montreal was more weakly defended than Kingston, so the trading centre it would be.13 But Wilkinson would not march immediately. Not before early November, he decided, could the army be ready.
While Armstrong, Hampton, and Wilkinson nudged slowly toward Montreal, Maj. Gen. Wiliam Henry Harrison had spent the last days of September consolidating his hold on the Detroit River. He found Amherstburg empty and raised the American flag once more over Detroit. Only on October 2 did he begin pursuit of Maj. Gen. Henry Procter. With him marched 3,500 men, including 1,500 mounted Kentuckians under Lt. Col. Richard M. Johnson. Another 1,500 troops were left behind to occupy Amherstburg and Detroit.
Harrison initially tried using boats, but soon realized that the twisting and turning course of the Thames slowed his troops down. The boats were abandoned, and with the aid of a Canadian militia deserter, Harrison followed tracks that cut directly through the woods. Each time they came back onto the main track, Harrison saw increasing amounts of discarded military equipment, burned boats, and dead animals. The British were
obviously not far ahead. And their failure to destroy bridges allowed Harrison’s men to move quickly. On October 5, the Americans overtook and captured two British gunboats loaded with ammunition. A captive confessed that the British column was only a short distance ahead. The Americans paused to work out a hasty plan of attack.
Procter was waiting with his men deployed across a 1,000-foot-wide gap of open ground, with the Thames to his left and a dense swamp choked with scrub to the right. He hoped the narrow frontage would prevent Harrison committing more troops than his 1,000 redcoats could handle. Not wanting Tecumseh’s warriors disrupting his regimented thin red line, Procter sent them to the extreme right to form a blocking force in the swamp. His single six-pounder, loaded with grapeshot, was positioned square in the middle of the track. Procter formed his men in the open, but had to break them into two groups separated by a swamp that mired the centre ground. The woods to their front were dark and impenetrable. There would be little warning when the Americans struck. To their right, the swamp was “dark and dreary and littered with fallen and rotting trees.” In their glaring red uniforms, the soldiers felt terribly exposed. Somewhere Indians and Americans lurked, each equally invisible. Behind their lines the woods and swamp intermingled into a confused jungle. There was nowhere to retreat if the line needed to move back to regain cohesion.
The British were demoralized. The 41st Regiment of Foot had lost confidence in Procter, been dispirited by the retreat, and were short ammunition. All they had was in their pouches.14
Procter prepared to meet a European-style attack where infantry marched toward infantry. The American cavalry, he expected, would attempt to move around the flank, where Tecumseh’s warriors should repel them. Harrison, however, decided to fight like a frontiersman. The Kentucky troops were unsuited to conventional tactics. They liked a fight that was hard and plain, with no fancy manoeuvring.
Looking from the woods at the thin line of redcoats, Lieutenant Colonel Johnson suggested that Harrison bring his infantry out in line toward the British while at the last moment he and the mounted Kentucky riflemen would charge from the flank. Nothing stood between his horsemen and the British infantry. Procter had lacked time to construct any abatis or other works. The British, Johnson said, might get off one volley. But that would be all. Harrison thought on it and then agreed.
As the first American skirmishers began to snipe at the British, Procter swung up onto his magnificent charger with his personal staff mounting behind him. Coming on hard were the Kentucky horsemen screaming at the top of their lungs, “Remember the River Raisin!” Thick gunsmoke erupted from the British line, but the horsemen never faltered. A second volley was loosed. Then the Kentuckians were among the British, muskets cracking and swords slashing. Procter and his staff galloped from the field. British soldiers everywhere threw down their guns; the cannon had not been fired.
British finished, Johnson wheeled his horsemen about. Leaving Harrison’s infantry to sort out the prisoners and kill any redcoats that offered further resistance, the Kentuckians pushed into the swamp to wipe out Tecumseh’s warriors. The heavy musket fire they met soon forced most of them to dismount and take cover. Both sides fought with fierce determination. Whenever the thunder of gunfire abated for a few seconds Tecumseh’s voice was heard, rallying his men and urging them to stand firm.
Johnson was equally ferocious, galloping from one hot spot to another, refusing to get off his horse. Four times he was struck by a musket ball but carried on. Then a bullet shattered his left hand, but he killed his assailant with a pistol shot. In the confusion of the battle many thought that the warrior shot was Tecumseh, but no one could prove this afterward. But Tecumseh was dead, and as the life left his body the dreams of the great tribal confederacy he had laboured so long to build died with him. The surviving warriors were in flight, escaping the vengeance of the Kentuckians.15
When Tecumseh’s body was identified by an American who knew him and by some of the captured British officers, they found he had been wounded repeatedly. Near the heart was a bullet hole probably made by a pistol. Buckshot had struck him in several places. There was a deep cut on his head.
The body was scalped and stripped of clothing by some Kentuckians. Others later slashed pieces of skin from his back and thighs to make razor strops. A rumour was soon born that Henry Clay had proudly displayed one of these souvenirs to some fellow congressmen in Washington.16
After darkness a warrior named Black Hawk and several others crept back to recover their leader’s body. Having seen Tecumseh die, Black Hawk knew where to look and quickly located the chief “lying where he had first fallen; a bullet had struck above the hip, and his skull had been broken by the butt end of the gun of some soldier, who had found him, perhaps, when his life was not yet quite gone. With exception of these wounds, his body was untouched: lying near him was a large fine looking Potawatomi, who had been killed, decked off in his plumes and war-paint, whom the Americans no doubt had taken for Tecumseh, for he was scalped and every particle of skin flayed from his body. Tecumseh himself had no ornaments about his body, save a British medal. During the night, we buried our dead, and brought off the body of Tecumseh, although we were in sight of the fires of the American camp.”17
Whether Black Hawk correctly identified Tecumseh’s body was uncertain. Over the years there would be many accounts that reputed to accurately describe Tecumseh’s death. Of eight accounts given by Indians, four (including Black Hawk’s) attested that Tecumseh was killed in the opening volley of the battle. An equal number supported the claim commonly agreed on by the Kentuckians present that Johnson shot him after being wounded by Tecumseh. Complicating matters further, the only American officer who had ever met Tecumseh was Harrison, and he did not visit that part of the battlefield until the following day. Shown the body that had been scalped and flayed, he was unable to confirm its identity. But his observation that it was either Tecumseh or a Potawatomi chief who had always accompanied the confederacy leader during visits to Harrison at Vincennes, lent credence to Black Hawk’s account.18
Moravian Town had been as disastrous a defeat for the British as it was for the Indian confederacy, but not because of the death of their leader. Twenty-eight officers and 606 men were killed or captured. Harrison counted only 7 men dead and 22 wounded. Nobody knew how many Indians fell, for they carried away all but 33 of their dead and later recovered most of these. Procter gathered his surviving 246 officers and men. Accompanied still by many civilians and about 400 warriors, he led an orderly retreat to the head of Lake Ontario.
Harrison did not pursue. He returned to Detroit, where he discharged the Kentucky Volunteers on October 13. The following day he signed an armistice with some tribal chiefs, taking a number of their women and children hostage to ensure they honoured it. On October 17, the major general issued a proclamation pledging that private property and the security of the settlers would be guaranteed.19 The same day, he turned command over to Brig. Gen. Lewis Cass and set off to receive due accolades during a triumphal progress via Buffalo, Sackets Harbor, New York City, and Philadelphia to Washington. Crowds turned out by the hundreds to cheer this hero who had given America its first major victory. Armstrong, resenting being upstaged by a subordinate, snubbed the hero by assigning him a modest command at Cincinnati. In a fit of pique, Harrison tendered his resignation in the new year. Armstrong accepted with satisfaction and President James Madison, hesitant to confront his secretary of war, confirmed it.20
Procter’s career was also destroyed by the Battle of Moravian Town, but for more obvious reasons. For a while he retained command of his troops after reaching Maj. Gen.John Vincent’s lines at Burlington Heights. But he was soon ordered back to England to face court martial for his conduct. Reduced in rank, docked six month.’ pay, and put on the army’s unattached list until his retirement, he died nine years after the battle, at Bath, England.21
In Kingston, Major General de Rottenburg was initially so alarmed by the defeat that h
e ordered Vincent to fall back on his position. But learning that Harrison had failed to march on the Niagara Peninsula and Lake Ontario, he ordered Vincent to stay put for the time being. On November 1, he advised Vincent that whether the British continued to defend what remained to them of Upper Canada would depend on the outcome of the American campaign beginning to unfold in the St. Lawrence River region.22 Vincent acknowledged this instruction but did not go out of his way to report that Colonel Murray was already loose on the peninsula and slowly pushing the Americans out.
When it had become obvious that the Americans planned an offensive against Montreal, Prevost moved his headquarters there and divided his command so that de Rottenburg had authority for Upper Canada while he would concentrate on defending Lower Canada. Given the paucity of regulars, saving Montreal would largely depend on the province’s militia, mostly French Canadians. The militia in Lower Canada were quite strong and well organized. Maj. Gen. Roger Sheaffe had earlier called out 3,000 men south of the St. Lawrence and established a main line of resistance along the Châteauguay River. Prevost quickly summoned another 5,000. With him from Kingston was the 1st Light Infantry Battalion, commanded by Lt. Col. “Red” George Macdonell—so named to distinguish him from the scores of other George Macdonells, serving officers or otherwise, to be found in the Canadas.
