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Plans Gone Wrong, The Battle of Queenston Heights, October 13, 1812

Emerging from the shelter of the bank, the thirteen heavily laden boats were hard pressed to maintain formation within the strong river current.Attempting to avoid the known positions of the enemy in the village itself, the convoy aimed for a landing upstream, directly below the escarpment and in a dead zone below the firing arc covered by the “redan” battery on the hillside overlooking the village. Unfortunately, the strong mid-river current carried several boats downstream until they reached calmer waters near the Canadian shore, where they were able to begin the strenuous task of rowing back upstream toward the rest of the flotilla. According to a later account, the leading boat, containing Colonel Van Rensselaer and men from Captain Armstrong and Captain Malcolm’s companies

View at Queens Town of West Landing, Upper Canada, Sempronius Stretton, artist, 1805. The Hamilton House is prominent in this early view of Queenston, as are the “heights” and Portage Road, winding its way up the escarpment. The redan battery would later be built just below the right-hand sweeping curve of the road.

Library and Archives Canada, C-002742.

… reached the British shore before any of the others … and … remained under the bank unobserved for the space of five minutes; which time the officers employed in creeping up the bank for the purpose of reconnoitring the ground…. The men in the boat, being left to themselves, and dispensing with the restraint which their superiors had thus far required in imposing silence, began talking audibly, & the presence of the party was soon detected by a British sentinel posted upon the very bank from which the reconnaissance had been sought, tho’ somewhat to the right of the boat at which he fired, wounding a Sergeant of Cap’t Malcolm’s Company — the sentinel to the left next fired, & thus, in quick succession the alarm was extended along the whole river front — The bugler upon the Heights then sounded it, & immediately after, that battery opened.[1]

To the men still rowing across the river, the dark outline of the approaching riverbank must have seemed to explode as the defending units and supporting artillery opened fire. Behind them, the American support batteries at Lewiston and Fort Gray also opened up once the element of surprise was lost. Through this hail of crossfire, the boats pulled onto shore and those troops not already wounded piled out into the cold water of the river before scrambling up onto the slippery riverside embankment and the main landing dock occupied by British troops.

Huts near the landing (Queenston), E. Simcoe, artist, circa 1793. The government dock at the village of Queenston in 1793, as seen from immediately above the 1812 American embarkation point. The American landing zone at the foot of the escarpment is to the left, hidden behind the rising ground and two tree stumps. (Below) The “landing” in 2012.

Library and Archives Canada, C-013928.

The assailants quickly ascended the bank, & on reaching the plateau endeavoured to form line, but the darkness was extreme, and this, rendering both noise and confusion … attendant upon their efforts to effect an organisation, their precise position was not long a secret to two British Companies … who from flank positions … opened a crossfire upon their front — Under this state of things, it was evident the American party had no time for delay — their men were falling fast and a line was hastily, if not very scrupulously formed.[2]

There was nowhere to go but forward, and despite having been wounded in the ankle while still in the boat, Van Rensselaer led his troops to clear the riverbank of the enemy before the second wave arrived. After a brief but intense firefight, the defenders were initially forced to retreat into the village, but soon returned with reinforcements and a small artillery piece, forcing the American line, itself partially reinforced and now under the supervising command of Captain John Wool (Thirteenth Infantry), to reposition to face this new threat.

Capt’ Wool, without waiting for orders from Col. VanRanslaer, immediately changed his front, pivoting upon his right. With his small arms against the enemy’s artillery and musketry, commenced his military career by throwing a well directed fire into the [enemy]…. A short but sharp contest now commenced in which the line-firings quickly succeeding each other were followed by cheers & were interchanged by both parties respectively.[3]

After another round of fierce gunfire, both sides retired to regroup. Having now been wounded a further five times and having suffered the loss of five of his senior officers, along with some twenty-five to thirty men, Colonel Van Rensselaer was compelled to order a retreat toward the American landing area, where he looked for Lieutenant Colonel Chrystie (Thirteenth Infantry) to hand over command. However the lieutenant colonel was nowhere to be found. In fact, the unfortunate officer was back on the U.S. side of the river.

During the crossing, Chrystie’s boat had been one of those that had been swept downstream and come under musket fire. In a panic, the boat’s pilot swung the boat away, back into midstream. Fighting with the pilot for control of the boat, Chrystie attempted to rejoin the flotilla, but soon recognized the futility of rowing up against the strong current. Beaching the boat on the American shore, well downriver of Lewiston, Chrystie walked back up the riverbank to join the next wave. Upon his arrival at the dockside, he was horrified to see

… a scene of confusion hardly to be described. The enemy concentrated their fire upon our embarking place; no person being charged with directing the boats and embarkation or with the government of the boatmen, they forsook their duty. Persons unacquainted with the river … would occasionally hurry into a boat as they could find one, cross and leave it on the shore, perhaps to go adrift or else to be brought back by the wounded and their attendants and others returning without order or permission; and these would land where they found it convenient and leave the boat where they landed.[4]

— Lieutenant Colonel Chrystie to General Cushing, February 22, 1813

Despite these difficulties, boats filled with men made the dangerous crossing, only to either join Van Rensselaer’s troops trapped along the shore, or be pulled downstream by the current and come under heavy fire from additional defenders stationed on the dock below the Hamilton house near the northern end of the village. Two of these boats, both containing a high proportion of officers, suffered enough casualties that they floated helplessly ashore and fell immediately into the hands of the waiting Canadian militia. Others attempted to make a landing at the dock but were soon overwhelmed by the defenders, after a stiff firefight that left many of the American’s dead or wounded. The situation had all the makings of a disaster of the first magnitude. Back on the embattled beach, Solomon Van Rensselaer initially considered a frontal attack on the massing troops before him. Instead, he and Captain Wool determined that the only hope was to attempt a flanking movement toward the angle of the escarpment where it entered the gorge of the Niagara River — where they had information that there was a rough path, commonly used by fishermen at what was locally referred to as the “point-of-the-rock” (where the east-west line of the escarpment meets the north-south line of the Niagara Gorge) that would allow them to gain the high ground behind the hillside redan artillery battery. With nothing to lose, the troops slipped off into the darkness in search of the path.

Queenston, O. Staples, artist (after E. Simcoe), 1913. Looking south to Queenston from the strategic vantage point of the Vrooman’s Point battery location in 1792.

Toronto Reference Library, JRR 1312.

On the other side of the village, things appeared reasonably under control to Major General Brock. Awoken at Fort George by the distant thunder of gunfire, the commander had ridden post-haste from the fort, without waiting for either his troops or his aides. As he rode toward Queenston, he ordered each detachment of troops that he passed to march to the sound of the guns. Arriving at Queenston, he saw with pride that his greatly outnumbered regulars were holding the Americans in check, while the local militias were proving their loyalty by turning out in numbers greater than he had predicted. Despite this, matters still hung in the balance and, certain that further waves of Americans would cross over, Brock looked for reinforcements. By his own orders, his main troop concentrations had been retained at Fort George in case the attack on Queenston was a diversion; but this was obviously no feint and even if he ordered them up immediately, they could not be expected for some time. Meanwhile, to his front, the British and Canadian troops penning in the Americans were coming under increasing pressure from the enemy’s growing strength as additional reinforcements arrived. In response, Brock went up to the hillside battery and ordered his only disposable force, the Light Company of the 49th (Captain John Williams), to join the troops below instead of covering the hilltop and rear of the redan battery on the escarpment. With this small augmented force, Brock’s men inflicted severe casualties amongst the Americans on the waterfront. However, the redeployment exposed the redan battery and the entire British south flank to an attack, if the Americans could reach the heights, which of course no one, least of all Brock, considered possible while the Americans were seemingly being successfully pinned down on the riverbank.

The same vantage in 2012. Including the relative movement of the American forces and various positions at the time of the battle.

Unfortunately, this was exactly what Wool had succeeded in doing. Gathering almost 200 men from the Sixth, Thirteenth, and Twenty-third Regiments, plus a gun crew from the New York Militia Artillery, Captain Wool’s force had scaled the heights and emerged on the higher ground just above and behind the redan battery. From there, the Americans swooped down on the unsuspecting artillerymen. After a short resistance that caused casualties on both sides, the surviving British gunners “spiked” their 18-pounder gun, rendering it inoperable, before scrambling down the slope toward the village below, along with their discomfited commander.

View from Queenston Heights, G. Heriot, artist, circa 1805. The view from the Portage Road, drawn just downhill from the redan battery. The government dock is visible at bottom right and the road through Queenston [Front Street] at left.

Library and Archives Canada, C-012772.

With the increasing light of day, the position for the British and Canadian defenders became serious. Behind them, the Americans controlled the heights; before them, increasing numbers of Americans were massing along the riverbank as more boats crossed from Lewiston; but most dangerously, the increasing visibility of the morning allowed the American gun batteries at Lewiston and Fort Gray to locate and target any points of resistance by the defenders. In short order, a number of the British guns, which had so devastated the American boats, were either disabled or forced to withdraw. In a similar fashion, the already depleted ranks of the infantry came under increased fire and seemed likely to break unless matters improved. Recognizing that a crisis had arisen, and determined to regain the dominant heights in order to create a stronghold for further resistance until reinforcements arrived, General Brock did not waste time issuing orders. Instead, he personally rode around the village, gathering together a composite force from his regular and militia detachments. With his force assembled, Brock led his troops into the open ground beyond the Secord farm at the base of the hillside. Advancing toward the American left flank, Brock’s force came under a brisk musket fire from the front line of American skirmishers covering the hillside and the captured gun position. After an intense firefight, the Americans were able to halt the British advance. Seeking to maintain the initiative, Brock dismounted from his horse, rallied his men, and moved out in front of his troops, perhaps forgetting that the primary responsibility of a senior commander is to remain in a position to direct a victory and not get involved in trying to create it. As a result, isolated in front of the line and wearing the highly distinctive uniform of a British senior officer, he suffered the consequences when an American soldier took aim and shot General Brock through the chest.

Stunned and outraged at the sight of their commander falling mortally wounded, Brock’s troops pressed forward, but made no headway against the secure positions of the Americans. Eventually, under a heavy fire, they collected the general’s body and withdrew down the slope. Shortly afterwards, the general’s aide, Lieutenant Colonel John Macdonell, attempted to revenge the death of his commander and succeed where his leader had failed, by organizing a second assault on the hill that took a more circuitous route in an attempt to flank the battery position. Initially, this assault succeeded in pressing the Americans back up the slope to the earthworks of the redan battery, causing the Americans inside to spike one of the guns that they had only just cleared. But just as his commander had suffered for his bravery, so too did Macdonell. He fell, shot through the belly. Within moments, the offensive collapsed and a counterattack by the Americans threw the weakened and disheartened British/Canadian troops back down the hill. Effective resistance to the invasion all but collapsed and individual units withdrew from the village as best they could, attempting to regroup downriver at Vrooman’s Point. On the other side of the village, the Americans began to solidify their position and establish a secure bridgehead for further troops to land. However, back on the American side of the river, less than a half-dozen boats remained to ferry the waiting regiments to the Canadian shore. Consequently, the reinforcement of the American beachhead had slowed to a crawl. Nevertheless, it appeared that despite all their earlier blunders, the Americans had carried the day and the battle was won. Finally, a victory could be reported to Washington.

Unable to acquire the actual ground, the 1850s committee looking to erect a monument to mark the point where General Brock actually fell were forced to locate it almost two blocks away. Therefore, they inscribed the location as being located “Near this spot.” Not, as popular history has it, halfway up the hill towards the redan battery, but down slope, nearer to the Secord family home and present-day museum.

As the morning progressed, additional detachments augmented Captain Wool’s command on the heights. He even gained some artillery support in the form of a 6-pounder cannon and ammunition limber. This piece had been laboriously dismantled, transported across the river, re-assembled, and then hauled up the escarpment by men from Captain James Gibson’s Light Artillery Company. As such, it was a welcome addition to the extended lines that the Americans sought to establish on top of the escarpment and astride the road leading from Queenston to Chippawa. However, Captain Wool had suffered a wound at the onset of the fighting and, due to blood loss, was forced to relinquish his command, which was taken up by Lieutenant Colonel Chrystie. Shortly thereafter, Brigadier General Wadsworth joined the force on the hilltop, becoming the senior officer. The general also brought news that there were still a significant number of militiamen that were refusing to cross the Niagara. As a result, Lieutenant Colonel Chrystie was ordered to cross back to the U.S. side of the river, locate Major General Stephen Van Rensselaer, and impress upon him the urgent necessity of getting these recalcitrant troops onto the battlefield.

Meanwhile, at the north end of the village, grievous as the death of Brock was to the morale of the surviving British and Canadian troops, it actually engendered a thirst for revenge on the part of the soldiers, not a desire to flee. In consequence, the remnants of the defenders remained at Vrooman’s Point awaiting orders. Shortly afterward, a band of nearly 200 Native warriors, led by their war chief John Norton (Teyoninhokovrawen), arrived at the battlefield, staying close to the heavy woods west of the village. Meeting with some of the retreating militia and hearing of Brock’s death, many of Norton’s warriors took this retreat as a signal for their own withdrawal and melted into the woods. Still determined to advance, Norton heartened his remaining band of about eighty warriors and led his men in a flanking movement to the right, eventually passing around the American perimeter and reaching the top of the escarpment. Moving across the Chippawa road toward the American left flank, Norton sent a messenger to the British garrison at Chippawa for assistance; he then dispersed his warriors under cover of the trees and began sniping at the Americans. Startled by the sudden war cries and firing from the woods on their flank and rear, Lieutenant Colonel Winfield Scott (Second U.S. Artillery), who had left his own assigned post on the American side of the river to join in on the attack, thought he was being attacked by forces coming from Chippawa. Without orders, he took it upon himself to take command of the troops at that end of the line and establish a line of defence facing south from behind a fence (that separated the open farm fields from the partially wooded military reservation lands that followed the line of the escarpment). Under continued fire, Scott ordered his composite force of infantrymen to make a bayonet charge to clear the enemy Native warriors from his flank. However, while the initial advance forced the Natives to retire, they simply regrouped further to the American right and attacked again. This forced Scott to respond with a series of charges that eventually ended up with his force standing at the edge of the slope of the escarpment overlooking the village of Queenston. Unable to drive off the Natives or fortify their dominating position whilst under fire, Scott and his troops were forced to retire back to the wood line to put more open ground between themselves and the repeated probes of the warriors. By now, Major General Sheaffe had arrived at Vrooman’s Point with the reinforcements from Fort George and was also preparing to advance on the American lines. In addition, a new artillery piece had arrived (Captain William Holcroft) and, joining with the other guns situated there, opened up on the remaining American boats — with deadly results.

Hearing the renewed firing from the heights across the river, Major General Stephen Van Rensselaer finally undertook to join his troops on the Canadian shore. He was mortified, however, when those troops awaiting embarkment adamantly refused to board the boats with him. After studying the increasingly serious situation at the beachhead, he returned to the American side and rode post-haste to the main encampment to persuade the reserve of militia troops to march to their comrades’ aid, only to be soundly rebuffed.

Major General R.H. Sheaffe in later life. He was forty-nine years old in October 1812. Although the technical “victor” of the Battle of Queenston Heights, history has denied him the appropriate credit. Subsequently, as lieutenant governor of Upper Canada, Sheaffe was unable to maintain the alliances developed by Brock and came under increasing levels of criticism. He was eventually replaced and reassigned to Montreal in June 1813.

Library and Archives Canada, C-111307.

… the mass of this … [militia] … was immovable. Neither entreaty nor threats — neither arguments nor ridicule availed anything. They had seen enough of war to satisfy them that it made no part of their special calling; and at last, not distaining to employ the mask, invented by factions to cover cowardice or treason, fifteen hundred able-bodied men, well armed and equipped, who a week before boasted loudly of patriotism and prowess, were now found openly pleading constitutional scruples in justification of disobedience to the lawful authority of their chief.[5]

Humiliated, Van Rensselaer was forced to return to the dock and pen a letter to his commanders on the Canadian side. In it he explained his inability to support their position with additional troops and suggested that if they were unable to retreat to the riverbank their surrender might become inevitable. By this time, the arriving British reinforcements had also been seen by the American perimeter troops in the village. In response, increasing numbers of men deserted their posts and began to filter back to the riverbank, where they endeavoured to recross the Niagara by any means possible. The American position around Queenston was weakening, but the heights were still firmly under the control of the bulk of the American force.

For his part, Major General Sheaffe studied the American positions and determined that repeating Brock’s method of a direct frontal assault would bring needless casualties and probable failure. Instead, he decided to follow Norton’s example, reach the heights by a circuitous route and attack downhill, while a smaller detachment and Holcroft’s artillery held the Americans attention from the front. According to Captain James Crooks of the 1st Lincoln Militia:

On crossing the ravine at Durham’s the fences were let down and we took a course to the right in the direction of St. Davids, where we found an old road ascending the mountain about two miles west of Queenston. Up this road we soon made the top and formed in a ploughed field.…We then moved on and took possession of the main road leading from Queenston to the Falls, there awaiting reinforcements that had been ordered from Chippawa…. Here we began to be pelted with shot from an 18 pounder battery on the opposite side of the river called Fort Gray, but it did no harm, the shot flying over us as we lay on the ground. It was rather trying for Militiamen who had never been in action to remain pelted with bullets from Fort Gray for more than an hour in the face of the enemy. The latter were posted in a young wood, where Brock’s monument now stands, with a worm fence in front, and their bayonets glistening in the sun. At last, the order was given to advance and … at the double quick we soon encountered the enemy.[6]

However, other accounts record that during the course of this hour-long pause Sheaffe unexpectedly issued new orders to several units, which manoeuvred their men by countermarching the column, as there was some perceived confusion of their unit alignment and proper frontage. Completing this complicated manoeuvre, in full view of the enemy, Sheaffe then deployed his force into line, only to realize that his initial formation was correct and that he had just inverted his proper fighting line with his left and right flanks reversed. Consequently, he was forced to order yet another countermarch to properly re-establish his battle formation, all the while having left his force totally vulnerable to an enemy counterattack. Fortunately for him, instead of taking advantage of this error of command, the bemused Americans simply stood and watched as the British force paraded up and down the field in front of them. According to American eyewitnesses of this extraordinary proceeding, they did not attack because they were convinced it was being done deliberately, either to intimidate them or to locate a potential weak spot that could be attacked. Finally taking up his desired position, Sheaffe placed the bulk of the 41st Regiment at the centre of his line with his small artillery pieces and several companies of militia in support. His left flank was secured by two companies of the 49th Regiment, while the steadfast band of Indian warriors under Norton continued to undermine the resolve of the Americans with their incessant attacks, supported by a detachment of around a hundred men from the 41st Regiment, under Lieutenant McIntyre. On the other flank were more Natives and militia. In addition, word arrived that Captain Bullock was moving north with a force of regulars and militia from Chippawa. Little activity could be seen from the American lines on the other side of the small piece of open ground dividing the two forces and, not wanting to give the enemy more time to prepare than he already had, Sheaffe stood back and gave the order to advance. At this crucial moment, Bullock’s troops arrived and immediately wheeled into position on the right flank, extending the British line into a wide arc of troops moving forward on a narrowing front and focussing on the American centre.

Outnumbered and isolated, the American line initially stood and opened fire on the advancing enemy. However, after trading several volleys, once Brigadier General Wadsworth decided to make a fighting withdrawal and ordered a retreat, all command structure collapsed, the American line folded, and it became was every man for himself. Some of the more dynamic commanders, like Winfield Scott and Chrystie, attempted to stem the rout. But eventually they too were forced to join their fellows in scrambling down the steep slopes of the escarpment, to the sound of blood-curdling cries from the British Native allies and reverberations of musket fire from the militia and regulars harrying the Americans to their destruction. Numerous Americans were injured or killed in their precipitous descent to the village of Queenston and the riverbank, where some desperate individuals threw away their weapons and equipment and attempted to swim across the river. Few, if any, made it safely ashore on the American side, and accounts record the spectacle of flailing bodies being swept downstream in the grip of the cold river current toward Lake Ontario. For the majority, however, surrender was the only realistic option and at least two attempts were made to raise a white flag. Unfortunately, battle fever blinded some of the Allied troops and the unfortunate bearers of the flag were shot down. Eventually Winfield Scott brought matters to a close by seizing a white neckcloth and holding it aloft on his sword as a sign of the American capitulation. In the aftermath of this final action, four participants recorded their impressions of these events:

We was then ordered to advance; our little field pieces commenced firing. It was returned by the Americans with a six-pounder masked in the brush. A rapid advance was ordered, without firing a musket shot on our part, until within a small distance of the enemy under cover of the woods and underbrush. We was then ordered to halt and fire…. We stood but a short time until, I suppose, we was ordered to advance with double quick time. The musketry made such a noise I heard no order, but as the others moved we all followed…. The General and his aid, no doubt, as they ought to do, had a position that was clear to them, but as the wind blew from the enemy we had both their smoke and ours in our faces.[7]

— Private William Woodruff,

1st Lincoln Militia

The Ground on which we had fought was well adapted to favour a small number against a stronger force. On our left, the steep descent of Queenstown mountain, along which & the meadows beneath, we had an uninterrupted view — on our right an extensive field, that reached to the Niagara River, which exposed to our Sight any Body of the Enemy that might advance in that Direction to pass our flank … General Sheaffe and the Troops — having now ascended the Hill … a Reinforcement of Light Infantry of one Hundred Men … of the 41st were sent to us … at the same time we were also strengthened by a number of Cuyugwa Warriors, who had been detained at Niagara…. We were thus more than doubly strengthened. We arranged ourselves on the Extremity of the left — the Light Infantry taking post on our right — next to the Main Body. When we saw the right Wing enter the field — we rushed forward — the enemy fired — we closed & they ran; … we came upon them Swiftly — they left their cannon, & we raised the Shout of Victory. — they ran in disorder — many falling on the way … right along the Bank of the River — the Enemy disappeared under the Bank; many plunging into the River.[8]

— John Norton, Native warrior leader

On the advance I perceived an iron 6 pounder abandoned…. I ran to it with two or three men and turned it round upon a large group of Yankees in Lewiston, our own people being between it and the enemy on the heights [at Fort Gray] … and managed to discharge it several times towards the enemy at Lewiston…. The battle …was a very warm and close one. I have been in many hail storms, but never in one where the stones flew so thick as the bullets on this occasion…. The lines were very near each other, and every foot of the ground the enemy gave way gave us an advantage, as on their side it descended. After almost half an hour’s close engagement they disappeared in the smoke, throwing down their arms, and ran down the heights to the water’s edge in the vain hope of reaching their own side.[9]

— Captain James Crooks,

1st Lincoln Militia

I saw many of the American soldiers run and plunge down the bank, some went down upon the rocks and trees & were killed while many who plunged into the river were drowned, the river running at a very rapid rate. None but the most powerful swimmers succeeded in reaching the American shore.[10]

— Private John Chapman, 41st Regiment

The losses suffered by the American army in this battle are somewhat ambiguous. This situation is not surprising considering:

 the disorganized and broken nature of the units landing on the Canadian shore;

 the confused mixture of regiments engaged in the various portions of the battle;

 the high level of desertions from the field and military encampments, both during and after the battle; and

 the unknown number of individuals who were swept away by the river when their boats sank beneath them in the initial assaults or during the chaos of the rout at the end of the battle.

Brock’s Monument as it looks today. The second one to be built, it marks the epicentre of the fighting at the climax of the Battle of Queenston Heights. The area, which was once a landscape of fields, farmsteads, military buildings, and dense forest, is now a manicured park that attracts tourists from around the globe.

Estimates are that only about one-third of the available troops actually crossed the river. Of these, over 900 ended up as prisoners. On the other side of the conflict, British official accounts record a far lower casualty roll.*[11] This disparity would normally stand as a glorious victory for the British, but the death of General Brock was credited as such a grievous loss that some contemporary accounts make more of this event than of the subsequent success of General Sheaffe in winning the battle.

In a sidebar to the battle, it must be noted that the garrisons at Fort George and Fort Erie were also engaged in combat during the course of the day. At Fort George, before dawn, as General Brock galloped toward Queenston, the American artillery at Fort Niagara opened up on the fort and the town alongside. Within a short time the town’s jail, courthouse, and several homes and other civilian buildings were set ablaze, torched by the Americans using cannonballs cooked in a furnace until red-hot and then fired as “hot-shot.” In return, the British artillery batteries at Fort George, supported by detached batteries sited along the riverbank, bombarded Fort Niagara, causing significant damage and forcing the artillerists to abandon their elevated positions on the fort buildings. In retaliation, the American detached batteries along the riverbank joined in and several hot-shot set fire to the wooden barracks and storehouses within the fort. Most dangerously, however, was the impact of a hot-shot on the roof of the fort’s powder magazine. Piercing the roof’s metal covering, the red-hot ball lodged within the wooden beams of the roof and began to burn its way through toward the large quantities of black powder below, threatening a devastating explosion. In response, many of the small number of troops left behind to guard the garrison made a quick exit through the fort’s gate and headed for the cover of the nearby woods. Ignoring the danger, however, Captain Henry M. Vigoureux (Royal Engineers) and a handful of men clambered up onto the smouldering building and proceeded to tear away at the roofing to expose the shot. Creating a bucket chain, Vigoureux and his valiant crew doused the rising fires and extracted the still-warm cannonball, thus saving the fort from destruction. While at Fort Erie, once news reached the fort of the American attack at Queenston, the riverside batteries were ordered to begin a bombardment of the enemy positions in an effort to prevent them detaching troops to support the invasion. As part of this cannonade, an American barrack, containing a quantity of ammunition, exploded, killing and injuring several soldiers inside the building; a warehouse full of goods removed from the Caledonia was set on fire, severely damaging the salvaged goods; while the Caledonia, already damaged, was hit several more times and sank at her mooring.

(Above) A View of Fort George Upper Canada, E. Walsh, artist, circa 1813. Fort George as seen from a riverside American fortification upriver of Fort Niagara. The Navy Hall complex of buildings can be seen at centre left. (Below) Modern waterfront developments encroach on the same view of Fort George in 2012.

Library and Archives Canada, C-000026.

Above and below: Two views of the reconstructed National Historic site of Fort George as seen in 2012 from the American side of the Niagara River.

Three days after the battle, on October 16, 1812, a solemn military funeral procession wound its way from Government House to Fort George, where Major General Isaac Brock, and his aide Lieutenant Colonel John Macdonell, were interred with full military honours within the bank of one of the fort’s bastions. The British artillery fired a salute to their fallen leader, which was shortly echoed by a similar volley from the American batteries across the river, along with their flag being flown at half-mast, a solemn sign of the esteem in which Brock was held by soldiers on both sides of the conflict and a fitting thank-you from those American officers whose current freedom was owed to the general’s courtesy at the outset of the war in the now burned-out officers’ mess at Fort George.

The powder and ammunition magazine building at Fort George. Hit by hot-shot on October 13, 1812, but saved from exploding by the heroism of Captain Henry Vigoureux (R.E) and his team of volunteers.