Flashman and Madison's War

by Robert Brightwell

  It was clear that neither side had the appetite for further fighting just then. Black Eagle and Norton returned to the Grand River the day after the battle. I remember Black Eagle embracing me in one of his great bear hugs for the final time. He reminded me that I had to bring my son to Canada to learn to hunt with his son. Then he took off the wampum necklace that he had found at the American brothel and draped it around my neck to remember him by. I still have that band of shell beads; it is in a casket on my desk as I write this account, along with other treasures from my adventures. My slightly rusted tomahawk is also on the wall here in my study.

  I did go back to Canada many years later and tried to find Black Eagle. Brant’s Ford had become ‘Brantsford’ by then and looked much like any other town in the province. I spoke to a few old-timers and one remembered my friend. He thought Black Eagle, Morag and their family had headed west. In the churchyard I found what I was sure was Magda’s grave. The year of birth was right but she had a new surname and so had evidently remarried. She had died in her forties and lay with her husband. Judging from the sentiments on the tombstone, her second marriage had been a much happier one.

  When I said goodbye to Norton I thought it would be the last time I would see him too, but fate plays some strange tricks. I saw him twice more over the years. He came to Britain a year later with his young wife and a son from a previous marriage. Both were enrolled in his old school while he caught up with his British friends. He was still full of enthusiasm for helping the Iroquois adapt to the changing world, but it was not to be. A few years later he got into a fight with a man he thought had been cuckolding him and he killed the rascal. He left Canada then and headed south to the Cherokee lands of his father. He must have kept on going south, for the last letter he sent me was from Mexico in around 1827. Like most of his friends I thought he must have died when nothing more was heard from him, but I was to see him once more – in 1836 near a little mission station called the Alamo.

  Two days after the battle at Lundy’s Lane Campbell found me wandering through the hilltop graveyard which had more than tripled in size since I had fought among its markers. Only officers had their own plot; enlisted men were buried in mass graves by either company or regiment.

  “What are you doing wandering around the battlefield gazette?” he asked. I smiled weakly at the joke for the Gazette in London published the names of all officers killed in service.

  “Oh, just seeing who is here,” I replied before adding, “why are you so cheerful?”

  “Ah you would be more cheerful too if you knew what was in my hand,” he replied waving a piece of paper.

  “What is it?” I asked although I had already recognised the document.

  “It is your release,” he replied with a smug expression. “And you will never guess who signed it – General Riall. He must have done it before he was captured. I knew he could not have been as bad as Norton and you were claiming.”

  I smiled, largely with relief. I had been waiting impatiently for the paper to come to light, but I could hardly go chasing it. Campbell was my oldest friend, but he was burdened by a strict Calvinist upbringing that forbade lying amongst many other things. I could not confide what I had done to him; it would have tormented his Christian soul. So instead I mustered my best look of astonishment and started towards him. “Well I am truly amazed; the man must have had some humanity after all. Are we leaving today?”

  “Yes, I have a man getting us a horse for luggage… What is the matter? You look like you have seen a ghost.”

  “Oh, I have just found the grave I was looking for.” I looked down at the rough wooden marker with its engraved name and felt a pang of sadness. “Do you still carry that folding fruit knife? Could I borrow it?”

  “Of course,” said Campbell handing over the small sharp blade. He then stood beside me as I crouched down and started to carve a second ‘f’.

  Historical Notes

  I am indebted to a range of sources for confirming much of the detail in Flashman’s account of this extraordinary conflict. These include The Incredible War of 1812 by J Mackay Hitsman, 1812 War with America by Jon Latimer, Tecumseh, A Life by John Sugden and The Iroquois in the War of 1812 by Carl Benn. Another immensely valuable first-hand source to some of the events covered was the Journal of Major John Norton, which was finished in 1816 and held in the Duke of Northumberland’s library until it was published in 1970 by the Champlain Society. A copy of this can be found freely online.

  War of 1812

  This conflict is now rarely remembered but the background to it is largely as Flashman describes in the second chapter of this book. There was no single cause for the war and at the end, both sides claimed victory.

  This account does not cover the full conflict. Significant events after Flashman departs North America include the British burning the public buildings of Washington and General Andrew Jackson defeating a British army in New Orleans. When a peace was finally agreed, the border between the United States and Canada remained exactly as it had been at the outset of hostilities.

  Flashman’s view that the war was a pointless waste of life was doubtless influenced by his personal experience and those he knew who were killed. But from a longer perspective the conflict may have served some purpose. Certainly both sides learned a new respect for their opponents and this may be a significant reason why the border between Canada and the United States is now the longest and most peaceful in the world.

  John Norton

  John Norton’s background is described pretty accurately by Flashman in the book. His father was a Cherokee taken as a boy from his village and later recruited into the British army. His father returned to Britain with his regiment and subsequently married and lived in Scotland. John Norton was brought up in Dunfermline, where, judging from his journal and translation work, he had a good education. He then joined the army himself and was posted to Canada where he eventually ended up as a translator before being formally adopted into the Mohawk tribe.

  His unique perspective of being a Mohawk who was brought up in Britain enabled him to represent the Six Nations or Iroquois during negotiations in London, where he made a number of influential friends including William Wilberforce and the Duke of Northumberland. It also gave him an insight into how the North American tribes would need to adapt their ways to live alongside a growing population of settlers from Europe. He promoted Christianity with his Bible translations and changes to agricultural practices, but it is perhaps for his war leadership that he was best known. Queenston was probably the pinnacle of his military career. As the tide of war turned against the British, many of the Iroquois began to suspect he held Britain’s interests before theirs. Consequently in 1813 he began to lose influence in the tribe and his position was further undermined by the Indian Agency, who resented his direct links with army commanders. Ironically the British began to distrust him because they felt he put his role as an Iroquois chief above that of a British officer. Generals Drummond and Riall both lost confidence in him after learning of the truce and council meeting with the Iroquois warriors that had fought for The United States.

  After the war Norton returned briefly to Britain as Flashman described. He went back to Canada with his family a year later and started farming in the Grand River lands. He lived peacefully until 1823 when he killed a man in a fight. His opponent was a man who he suspected was his much younger wife’s lover. He was convicted of manslaughter and fined £25. He then decided to leave the Grand River and head back to his father’s Cherokee lands that he had visited once before – that earlier tour is covered in detail in his journal. He evidently kept on travelling south and the last letters from him were dated November 1825 from Laredo, then in Mexico. Flashman is the only source for the fact that he might have lived on in that region for another ten years; he would then be aged around seventy.

  Battle of Queenston

  Flashman’s account of the Iroquois at the battle of Queenston accords closely with the only ot
her first-hand account, the journal of John Norton. The small number of warriors who reached the heights used classic Iroquois tactics of shock, ambush and disguising their true numbers to achieve an impact in the battle that was out of all proportion to the size of their force.

  As Flashman records, as well as disrupting and demoralising the Americans on the heights and persuading many of the militia to flee the field, they were also instrumental in dissuading further militia forces from crossing the river as reinforcements. Their tactics also enticed the American force into expending large quantities of ammunition to very little effect, which was to be a crucial factor in the final stages of the battle.

  Incidental details such as the presence of Captain Runchey’s Company of Coloured Men, the conditions of the American army at Lewiston and the American guns joining in the salute for General Brock are all confirmed by contemporary sources.

  Life with the Iroquois

  Many of the details that Flashman provides of life with the Iroquois are confirmed by contemporary sources. These include details of Brant’s Ford at that time, depictions painted on bark of battle achievements, preferred battle tactics and the description of tomahawks with a pipe opposite the blade. Even some of the Indians Flashman mentions have been confirmed. While no record can be found of Black Eagle and Morag, I am pleased to be able to include a photograph of John Smoke Johnson at the end of these notes. Johnson did have a half Dutch wife and took part in the battle of Queenston. His disapproval of the practice of scalping at that time has also been recorded.

  There is also a record of a Magdalena Dietrich amongst the Mennonite community in Pennsylvania, although whether she was the one who travelled to Canada cannot be proved. The place at the fork of the river, which had no name in Flashman’s time, became Blair, Ontario. It did have a growing Mennonite population, which was established around 1800. Blair was later absorbed into the town of Cambridge, Ontario.

  It is interesting to note that Black Eagle had no fear of heights as he climbed about in the rigging of ships. Later, Iroquois were employed to help build skyscrapers in New York as they seemed fearless as they moved about on steel girders high above the ground.

  One final curiosity is Flashman’s choice of song when invited to sing around the Brant’s Ford campfire on his first night in the village. His choice of an old London club drinking song, To Anacreon in Heaven, was to have particular significance for the United States. He does not mention singing it at any other time but someone in America certainly heard it. A man called Francis Scott Key used the tune for a poem, which later became the national anthem of the United States of America.

  The Sieges of Fort Meigs

  The somewhat bizarre sieges of Fort Meigs took place largely as Flashman described them. Most of the militia garrison of the fort had abandoned the site in early 1813 when their enlistment period had expired. The winter and landscape had been harsh and unforgiving with stories of sentries being frozen to death on duty. Many of the militia felt that they had done enough and wanted to go home. General Harrison, knowing that a British attack was likely, was then forced to recruit a new garrison, which he did leaving the fort under the command of his engineer, Eleazer Wood. It was an inspired choice as Wood greatly strengthened the defences of the fort to thwart any attack.

  The first siege began on the 1st of May 1813 when the British started a bombardment of the fort. As described in this account, the guns had little effect but on the 5th of May the British force was surprised by the arrival of a twelve hundred man relief force. Of these, Colonel William Dudley, landed over eight hundred and fifty men on the British side of the river, where they allowed themselves to be drawn deep into a forest. These soldiers would have been well aware of the fighting abilities of Indians in such cover. Flashman’s account gives some explanation of why they might have been lured into danger, instead of spiking the guns and retiring back to the fort as planned. Over five hundred of Dudley’s men were captured; most of the rest were killed but a few managed to swim across the river to join the rest of the relief force in the fort.

  Tecumseh did stop the massacre of the American prisoners, although there are no reliable accounts of what he said. Procter had sent far too few men to guard his prisoners and he had clearly not learned his lesson after the massacre at the River Raisin. In his defence much of his command was scattered and disorganised on both banks of the river after the battle, but at least one grey-haired British soldier was killed by the Indians while trying to defend the prisoners.

  Most of the Indian force and subsequently the militia did abandon the siege after the battle on the 5th of May for the reasons highlighted by Flashman. A few more days would have seen the fort’s surrender as they were already short of rations before the arrival of the relief force, and disease was rife in the tightly packed garrison. Procter’s frustration at this point can only be imagined.

  Fort Meigs was under the command of General Clay for the second siege, which seemed doomed to failure from the outset. The two six-pounder cannon the British brought with them might have punched a hole through planking or splintered a tree trunk, but they would have done little damage to a major fort. Clay probably had a good idea where his commander, General Harrison, was during the siege and so the Indian plan to lure out the garrison with their mock battle was at best a longshot.

  Assault of Fort Stephenson

  The assault on Fort Stephenson may well have been the turning point for General Procter’s mental health as indicated by Flashman. After a long series of frustrations and defeats, to have the promise of victory offered and then snatched away by another brutal defeat would have tested the confidence of any commander.

  Procter did produce a sound plan to attack the fort, which might have worked if the diversionary assault had been made on time. However the fort’s defenders were well prepared and waiting for the main assault, with their one cannon used to devastating effect. Over half the assault party was killed or injured for the loss of one American soldier killed and seven wounded.

  George Groghan was relieved of his command by General Harrison when he refused to evacuate the fort, although Groghan did not receive this news until after his victory. When Harrison learned of the defence of the fort, he had little alternative but to reinstate its commander.

  Battle of Lake Erie

  This extraordinary engagement saw the advantage swing from one side to another. Barclay’s British fleet was outnumbered, out gunned and desperately lacking in skilled seamen and virtually every form of naval supply. Under immense pressure to regain control of the lake, Barclay risked all on his one advantage: longer range guns. Forced to sail in light and variable winds, the first part of the battle went well for the British. Inexplicably the second large American ship, the Niagara under a Captain Elliot stayed out of effective range allowing the British to concentrate all their fire on the Lawrence commanded by Perry. This lack of support was a cause of friction between Perry and Elliot for years to come. When the Lawrence was finally battered to a standstill the British thought the battle was won, but Perry was rowed away with his flag before the Lawrence struck her colours.

  Reaching the Niagara, Perry sent Elliot in a small boat to round up the smaller vessels while he took the Niagara once more into the attack. He was hugely aided by the fact that all of the senior officers on both the Detroit and Queen Charlotte and been killed or injured. As a result, the inexperienced men then commanding the vessels allowed them to collide. This most complete victory made Perry’s reputation and he became a hero in the United States. After the war he continued in the navy but during a mission to Venezuela in 1819 he contracted yellow fever and died aged just thirty-four.

  Barclay did survive the battle with just one leg and only limited sensation in his remaining arm. In the following court martial for the loss of his command he was completely exonerated and granted a pension. In 1815 he married and later had several children. He died in Scotland in 1837.

  General Procter

  Procter
is a figure who has been universally condemned by history. To Americans he is still seen as something of a war criminal, while the Canadians view him as a coward. Flashman’s account gives a more rounded view of a man, placed in what seemed an impossible position, who allowed himself to be manipulated by those around him, including Tecumseh and not least Flashman himself.

  Procter had no battle experience before the war, but showed he had some drive with his swift counter-attack at Frenchtown. He did, however, give away the element of surprise in that engagement, resulting in higher casualties than necessary. Thereafter he struggled to maintain control of his theatre of operations. He clashed with Tecumseh who was working towards his own goals and received very little in the way of support or supplies from the governor general. He did not help his cause by alienating many of his senior officers, preferring instead the company of cronies and ‘yes-men’.

  He was married with a son and four daughters. It is unclear how many of his daughters accompanied him to Amherstburg, but he was evidently very much a family man. While he had shown personal courage in some of his earlier engagements, it was clear after the failed assault on Fort Stephenson that his nerve was beginning to fail. Procter found he was openly reviled both by the Indians and some of his own officers as he planned the retreat.

  The withdrawal from Amherstburg was a poorly organised shambles. Procter spent most of it in his carriage with his family and was rarely seen giving any sense of command. Whether he ever intended to make a stand at Chatham and what possessed him to finally stand at Moraviantown, will never be known. By then he was in a very precarious mental state and he may not have been entirely sure himself. He was at the forefront of the subsequent rout and consequently escaped capture.