Tecumseh and Brock (14 page)

The rise of the Prophet had a visible effect on Tecumseh, influencing him to stop wearing European-style shirts and trousers, instead clothing himself in soft deerskin suits and moccasins embroidered with dyed porcupine quills.
13

The change gave him the appearance of a warrior from an earlier time, which added to his distinctiveness as he rose to fame and helped him to promote his cause of native unity. Significantly, Tecumseh borrowed some ideas from his brother's revelations, but he kept his own counsel in important ways. From a very early age, he strongly opposed cruelty toward others. When he was in a position to do so, he forbade the torture of prisoners and would not countenance physical abuse of women and children.

While the Prophet was a fundamentalist in his manner and in his unbending certitudes, Tecumseh was much more flexible. He was prepared to work with native groups quite different culturally from his own. And while he had no illusions about the possibility of a complete understanding with the Americans or the British, he was ready to work with or against either of them in pursuit of his goals. In that sense, he was a political leader. It was exactly his clarity of purpose that made him so formidable and adept at commanding respect from his opponents.

The brothers were on a parallel course, though sharp disagreements did flare between them at times. The Prophet was set on establishing a theocracy with himself at the head. Tecumseh was determined to establish a confederacy that could launch a native state with the full rights and recognition of the other states on the continent. Differences aside, the brothers were both leaders, building a bold resistance movement among the native peoples.

Alarmed by the growing number of warriors who had congregated at Prophetstown, and by the rising strength of the native confederacy, William Henry Harrison decided that the United States must take action against the native threat. Even prior to his meeting with Tecumseh at Vincennes, Harrison had sent a dispatch to U.S. Secretary of War William Eustis, seeking permission to attack Prophetstown. Two months later, on July 17, 1811, Eustis replied, “If the Prophet should commence, or seriously threaten, hostilities, he ought to be attacked; provided the force under your command is sufficient to ensure success.”
14
In a further missive, on October 20, the Secretary of War was less bellicose. Stating that he had “been particularly instructed by the President, to communicate to Your Excellency his earnest desire that peace may, if possible, be preserved with the Indians . . . Circumstances conspire, at this particular juncture, to render it peculiarly desirable that hostilities of any kind, or to any degree, not indispensably required, should be avoided.”
15

In those days of slow communications, field commanders were much freer to follow their own inclinations. Aware that Tecumseh was away on a journey to win the southern tribes to his confederacy, Harrison believed the moment for action was at hand. “There can be no doubt,” he wrote to Eustis, “but his [Tecumseh's] object is to excite the Southern Indians against us . . . I do not think there is any danger
of any hostility until he returns. And his absence affords a most favour
able opportunity for breaking up his Confederacy . . . I hope . . . before his return that that part of the fabrick [
sic
], which he considered complete will be demolished and even its foundations rooted up.”
16

Harrison sent couriers with secret messages to key military and political figures so that troops would be readied for the assault on Prophetstown. He alerted Kentucky to have troops in readiness to march by September 20. He rallied Governors Ninian Edwards of Illinois and Benjamin Howard of Upper Louisiana to prepare their militias to join the battle if necessary.

While Harrison was preparing for conflict, which was clearly his preferred option, he was assuring the Madison administration that he was doing everything possible to achieve a peaceful outcome. On August 13, Harrison wrote to Eustis to assure him that while he had alerted the other governors of the growing hostilities, he still hoped for a peaceful outcome: “The President may rest assured that our united councils and exertions will be directed to preserve peace with the Indians . . . recourse to actual hostilities shall be had only when every other means shall have been tried in vain to effect the disbanding of the Prophet's force.”
17

As he prepared to march, Harrison resorted to the time-honoured
tactic of seeking to divide his potential foes. He dispatched a warning to the residents of Prophetstown urging them to save themselves by abandoning the Prophet. He also sent a message to the nearby Miami, Eel River, and Wea tribes, cautioning them to stay neutral. “My children,” he wrote, “be wise and listen to my voice. I fear that you have got on a road that will lead you to destruction. It is not too late to turn back. Have pity on your women and children. It is time that my friends should be known. I shall draw a line. Those that keep by me by the hand must keep on one side of it and those that adhere to the Prophet on the other.”

The governor's warning did not intimidate Laprusieur, the Wea chief, who replied that he considered himself to be a friend of both the Prophet and the Americans, but went on to let Harrison know in no uncertain terms where he stood. “Father,” he said in his message, “Your speech . . . has not scared us, we are not afraid of what you say . . . We have our eyes on our lands on the Wabash with a strong determination to defend our rights, let them be invaded from what quarter they may; that when our best interest is invaded, we will defend them to a man.”
18

In late September 1811, Harrison marched north at the head of his force of more than a thousand men. One-third were U.S. Army regulars and over four hundred were Indiana militiamen. Eighty Indiana riflemen and 120 mounted Kentucky volunteers filled out the ranks. In less than two weeks, the force marched two-thirds of the way to Prophetstown. They halted at a location close to the present-day city of Terre Haute, and Harrison's men spent the next half-month building Fort Harrison.

When the fort was nearing completion, a small band of Shawnee warriors from Prophetstown shot a sentry, wounding his legs. The incident gave Harrison the opening he sought to attack Tenskwatawa in his lair. “I had always supposed that the Prophet was a rash and presumptuous man,” he wrote to Eustis. “He has not contented himself with throwing the gauntlet but has absolutely commenced the war.”
19

In a final bid to achieve a peaceful outcome, Harrison dispatched a party of Delawares to negotiate with Tenskwatawa. The three conditions he advanced, via his messengers, amounted to an ultimatum Harrison knew would be refused. The conditions were to expel all the Potawatomis, Kickapoos, and Winnebagoes from Prophetstown; to surrender all the warriors who had committed offences against the United States and its citizens; and to return horses that had been stolen from settlers.
20
Not surprisingly, on their return, the messengers reported to the governor that the offer had been received with hostility and contempt.

Having been reinforced with the arrival of more troops, on November 6 Harrison set out for Prophetstown, advancing to within 1.6 kilometres of the settlement. With the American force on his doorstep, Tenskwatawa had to decide whether to stay on the defensive or to launch an attack. Tecumseh had solemnly warned his brother not to engage in combat while he was away — he was sure they would eventually come to blows with the Americans, but he believed the best time to strike would be when the confederacy was fully mobilized.

Under pressure from the militants among his followers, Tenskwatawa organized a pre-emptive strike. He sent a negotiating party to meet with Harrison to request a parley the following day. Harrison acquiesced and both sides agreed to a truce until their conference had been held the following day.

That night, Tenskwatawa dispatched a party of one hundred warriors on a pre-dawn mission to attack the Americans. They were to use the advantage of darkness to elude the sentries, enter the camp, find Harrison's tent, and kill him. Drawing on his spiritual powers, Tenskwatawa promised his warriors that the darkness would dim only the eyesight of the Americans and that the Native warriors would be able to see clearly. He further undertook to send rain to
dampen the soldiers' gunpowder and render his warriors invulnera
ble. The one hundred warriors who were to infiltrate the camp were to be followed by a second wave of five or six hundred others who would attack when the battle had been joined.

Things did not go according to plan, however. At about 4:30 a.m., a U.S. sentry spotted a warrior and fired his rifle to alert the camp. All of the sentries rushed back to camp, and the soldiers, who had been sleeping on their weapons as instructed by Harrison, dove out of their tents and formed ranks. Confused fighting erupted. From the perimeter of the camp, warriors with blackened faces unleashed a deadly volley of fire, aided by the visibility the fires in the camp afforded. The soldiers returned fire blindly into the darkness.

Some of Harrison's troops were on the verge of panicking, but Harrison rallied them. The fight continued for two hours, until Tenskwatawa's warriors retreated to Prophetstown at the approach of daylight.
21

Tenskwatawa's bold plan had been thwarted by one sentry and a dwindling supply of ammunition. Daylight would inform the Americans that they outnumbered the warriors two to one. As the tide turned in favour of the Americans, the Prophet stood on a nearby hill, where he prayed, danced, and shouted incantations, calling on the warriors to hold their ground and promising them that the Great Spirit would soon bestow victory upon them.
22
When the fighting ended, the Prophet returned to his settlement, where disgusted warriors, convinced that he was a fraud, threatened him with death. Tenskwatawa tried to rally them to continue the fight, but the tribesmen deserted Prophetstown.

Expecting a renewed attack, Harrison ordered his men to build fortifications and care for the wounded. Late on November 8, when it seemed certain that the warriors were not returning, the U.S. force marched to Prophetstown and found the settlement deserted. They seized the cooking utensils and then set fire to the lodges and more than five thousand bushels of corn and beans. Harrison proclaimed the Battle of Tippecanoe a major military triumph. “The Indians have never sustained so severe a defeat since their acquaintance with the white people,” he boasted in a message to Eustis. “I think upon the whole that there will be no further hostilities.”
23

Harrison continued to reap the glory and political benefits of Tippecanoe for the rest of his life. In a successful campaign for the U.S. presidency in 1840, Harrison and his running mate, John Tyler, campaigned on the slogan “Tippecanoe and Tyler too.” Inaugurated as president on a cold March day, Harrison didn't enjoy his triumph for long. A few weeks after he delivered the longest inaugural address in history, he came down with a cold. The malady worsened, turning into pneumonia and pleurisy, and he died after only thirty-one days in office.

But at Tippecanoe, Harrison launched the United States into war against Tecumseh's confederacy, a war that would fold into the larger conflict with Great Britain just seven months later.

Chapter 7

Brock on the Eve of War

I
N LATE 1811,
THE UNITED STATES
was already at war with Tecumseh's native confederacy, and the signals flashing from American political actors, including the War Hawks, indicated that war with Great Britain was a very real possibility.

Brock was posted to Upper Canada to serve as the senior commander of the armed forces and shore up the defences of the Canadas against a U.S. invasion. But he had also taken on the role of president of the province's governing council. This required him to work with the other council members, the executive branch of the government, and the elected members of the legislative assembly. Brock operated under the orders of the newly appointed senior commander in the Canadas, General George Prevost.

Born in New Jersey in 1767, Prevost was the eldest son of Major General Augustine Prevost, a Swiss-born officer who had fought in the British army and served under Major General James Wolfe in the capture of Quebec in 1759, during the Seven Years' War. In 1779, at the tender age of twelve, George joined the 60th Foot, his father's regiment. He had attained the rank of major by 1790, the result of rapid promotions, likely purchased. After a series of posts in the Caribbean and Nova Scotia, Prevost was dispatched to Canada to stiffen the defence, but he was no lion. Prevost was named governor of the Canadas and commander-in-chief of the British forces. His bilingualism equipped him for dealing with the francophone majority in Lower Canada and its elected assembly. Sir George — he was knighted in 1805 — had the difficult task of combining the two roles of head of government and commander of British forces in both Upper and Lower Canada. In Upper Canada, a lieutenant-governor headed the government except when the governor, normally based in Lower Canada, was present. Although the system established by the Constitutional Act of 1791 provided for a popularly elected assembly in each of the two provinces, most of the power rested in the hands of the governors and their appointed executives and legislative councils.

Brock and Prevost could not have been more different. Brock was a warrior; Prevost was a cautious, bureaucratic general and administrator. He did not want to make waves — with the French Canadians, with his home government, or with the Americans.

Brock's natural inclination to take the offensive was reinforced by his reasoned calculation that only victories on the field of battle could cement such a disparate mix of men — British regulars, Canadian militia, and native allies — and interests. He also knew that regiments that didn't see combat for long periods of time were in danger of lapsing into somnolence.

“The 41st is an uncommonly fine regiment,” he wrote, “but wretchedly officered . . . The 49th has been ten years in this country, drinking rum without bounds; but it is still respectable and apparently ardent for an opportunity to acquire distinction.”
1

British regulars formed the backbone of the land defence of both Upper and Lower Canada. On both the British and American sides of the coming conflict, the regulars were superior to the militias, although some militias were certainly better than others. On the eve of the war, there were 4,450 British imperial regulars in Canada. This quite small force was made up of four line battalions of the 8th, the 41st, the 49th, and the 100th regiments. The British imperial forces in Canada included no cavalry, a paucity of artillery, not many engineers, and little in the way of transport and medical services.

The British army of the period was divided into regiments for organizational purposes. In the infantry, regiments (“of Foot,” as they were known) were made up of one or more battalions. A fully manned battalion had ten companies of about one hundred men each. The battalion was the principal tactical unit on the battlefield. A brigade was made up of three or sometimes just two battalions, normally drawn from different regiments. The army's largest unit, the division, was composed of two or more brigades. A division with a full complement could have as many as ten thousand men, but an under-strength division could have as few as three or four thousand men.

The companies that made up a battalion were designed to play particular roles. Two of the ten companies were called “flank” companies. The “grenadier” company — the most fearsome of the flank companies — normally was positioned on the right-hand side of the battalion during a battle. The men in this unit were typically battle-hardened and physically imposing. The other flank company, usually deployed on the battalion's left, was a “light” company. Its members were skilled soldiers, and the unit could be used to provide a screen in front of the main body of the battalion. These men could fire at enemy formations to weaken them and disrupt their ranks before the main body of the battalion came to grips with them. The members of the light company could also protect their battalion from enemy skirmishers. Between these flank companies were the eight “line” companies.
2

In the British army, a colonel commanded a regiment, but this was an administrative post that did not necessitate his presence on the field of battle. In the field, a lieutenant colonel commanded the actual fighting unit, the battalion.

The Americans used different terminology to describe their fight
ing units. What the British called a battalion, the Americans called a
regiment. American regiments deployed eight companies rather than ten. A few months before the outbreak of the War of 1812, the American army set up some regiments consisting of two battalions, on the British pattern. Most of these units were rapidly reorganized on the old pattern, with regiments consisting of a single battalion, but during the first year of the war some kept the new organizational form. The Americans also, on occasion, called a grouping of at least two companies from different regiments a battalion. An officer who held at least the rank of major commanded a unit of this kind. The Americans also ordered soldiers to “form a battalion,” which meant to form a line.
3

Generally speaking, battles were fought across a deadly killing space at close range between opposing infantry drawn up in companies and battalions. The standard weapon of the day was the smooth-bore musket. In order to load and fire this weapon, the soldier had to bite off the tip of a greased paper cartridge containing gunpowder and a lead ball. He then poured a small quantity of powder into the pan of the firing mechanism. The mechanism was snapped shut and the hammer was pulled back to the half-cock position. The soldier then poured the remaining contents of the cartridge down the barrel, followed by the cartridge itself. Using a rod that was stored below the barrel of the musket, he forced the contents down to the base of the barrel. The musket was then fully cocked and ready to fire. The soldier held the weapon against his shoulder and waited for the command to fire. Most muskets did not possess sights. Pulling the trigger released the lock, which snapped forward and struck the flint, setting off a spark that ignited the powder. The initial explosion was forced through the touch hole, where it set off the main charge. The musket was effective over a range of up to two hundred yards. The mass firing of muskets released clouds of white smoke into the air, and this quickly reduced visibility on the battlefield.

The cumbersome procedure for loading, firing, and reloading a musket, especially when facing volleys from the opposing side, required a great deal of training. Most soldiers could only get off two or three shots per minute, although British veterans who had fought the French in Spain were known to be capable of firing five rounds per minute. Smooth-bore muskets, unlike rifled bores that imparted a spin to a bullet in flight, were notoriously inaccurate. Muskets also misfired often. Musket fire was effective when it was unleashed in volleys, when the men in a company, platoons within a company, or an entire battalion fired simultaneously. Well-timed volleys took a toll on the opposing line, and they could cause an inexperienced unit to panic, break ranks, and flee. In a well-trained battalion, each platoon could be ordered to fire one by one along the line, creating a terrifying rolling effect.

Reloading and firing muskets was not always effective against an infantry charge by opposing units. When hand-to-hand fighting could not be avoided, soldiers were ordered to deploy the socket bayonet, which was fifteen to seventeen inches long and fitted around the muzzle of the musket. The sight of a tight row of bayonets was often sufficient to halt charging infantry. Bayonets were essential against cavalry. Large cavalry units were not a factor in the War of 1812, because supplying feed for horses on a large scale was more trouble than it was worth on the battlefields of North America.

The Napoleonic Wars and the War of 1812 were fought during the golden age of drilling soldiers. British officers were constantly drilling their units to a pitch of perfection.
4
A highly trained British battalion — the British army reckoned it took three years to turn a recruit into a dependable fighter on the field of battle — could change direction and follow complex orders while under fire. British infantry stood in a line two deep to maximize their firepower on the battlefield.
5
During the War of 1812, the Americans usually fought in a line that was three deep.

As the leading British officers, including Brock, were well aware, the Royal Navy would play a crucial role in the defence of British North America in the event of war with the United States. The navy had the power to blockade the U.S. coast and to carry out raids and major incursions into U.S. ports and cities.

The Royal Navy classified warships into three types and six “rates,” according to the number of guns they deployed. Ships of the line were ship-rigged and were outfitted with at least two covered gun decks; frigates were similarly rigged but had only one covered gun deck and were intended for scouting and other tasks outside of the major battle fleet; all other craft, mostly schooners, sloops, and brigs, filled out the third type. These latter craft were assigned convoy duties and carried dispatches. The “rates” enumerated the firepower of vessels as follows: “first-rate,” at least one hundred guns; “second-rate,” ninety to one hundred; “third-rate,” sixty to ninety; and “fourth-rate,” fifty to sixty (there were few such vessels by this date; they were not regarded as powerful enough to fight in the line). Frigates that deployed thirty to forty-four guns were classed as “fifth-rate,” and even smaller vessels, commanded by a “post-captain,” were sixth-rate.
6
By 1812, the rating system was somewhat out of date. The short-barrelled carronade, a new weapon introduced in the 1780s, allowed more guns to be deployed on vessels.

“Ship-rigged,” as opposed to other vessels, carried three masts — fore,
main, and mizzen. The masts supported square sails hung on horizontal yards. In addition, ship-rigged vessels could carry sails between the masts and along the bow. Brigs carried two masts, each deploying square sails, and, in addition, a spanker sail. The foremast of a brigantine sported square sails. Farther back, on the main mast,
sails were rigged both fore and aft. Two-masted schooners — schooners
often had more masts in later decades — deployed fore and aft sails, and some were outfitted with square sails as well. A sloop carried a single mast, on which was mounted a fore and aft sail and sometimes a square sail above the others.
7

In the Royal Navy, the traditional term for a cannon was “gun.” By the early nineteenth century, the British had adopted the French word “cannon,” and the words “cannon” and “gun” were used interchangeably. The British fired their ship-borne cannon with a flintlock apparatus, using the same principle as a musket. In naval engagements, the British preferred cannonballs of solid iron. The gun was designated according to the weight of the shot — for example, the Royal Navy's cannon were called 18-pounders. In combat, the Royal Navy and its adversaries manoeuvred as close to each other as possible so that their guns could be used to maximum effect. Guns that could be fired over a range of two thousand yards on land had less range at sea. Firing from the decks of shifting vessels made cannon much less accurate than artillery pieces fired on land.

The more recently adopted carronades, with their shorter and wider barrels, could fire a heavier shot. They were deadly at ranges of three hundred yards or less. The Royal Navy used grapeshot and chain shot to assault the personnel and tear up the rigging on an enemy ship. Grapeshot consisted of stacks of round shot wrapped in canvas and stuffed into the barrel of a gun. Three or more packs could be fired at a time. When fired, they split open, scattering the small balls over a wide area. At close range, grapeshot was used against the enemy quarterdeck to kill or maim the officers. Chain shot consisted of two iron balls joined by a length of chain that whirred through the air in a vicious circular pattern. Aimed effectively, chain shot devastated sails and rigging.

The technology of the time dictated that major battles for “command of the seas” were fought quite close to land, because fleets found it exceedingly difficult to find the ships of their enemies in the vastness of mid-ocean.
8
Once fleets found their opponents, battle tactics were dictated by the strengths and limitations of wooden ships, the power and range of cannon, and the need for attackers and defenders to use the power of wind to propel themselves. Attacking fleets sailed downwind to close in on the enemy. Defending fleets had the option of sailing downwind to escape from the foe, which they often did. Great battles at sea in the age of wooden sailing ships usually ended inconclusively.

While Brock understood the indispensable role of the Royal Navy, deep in the heart of North America where he was stationed, the blessings the navy could bestow were rather a cold comfort. Over the long haul, the navy could play a huge role in convincing the Americans that the war was not worth fighting. In the immediate future, though, the fate of Brock's turf would be decided by the sharpness of his regulars, the morale of the local militia, the inclinations of Tecumseh's confederacy, and even the postures adopted by Upper Canadian politicians.