ne distinct objective; and their leaders
were men whose lives had been devoted to the art of war.
Sheaffe took his time. Arrived near Queenston, he saw
that his three guns and two hundred muskets there could
easily prevent the two thousand disorganized American
militia from crossing the river; so he wheeled to his
right, marched to St David's, and then, wheeling to his
left, gained the Heights two miles beyond the enemy. The
men from Chippawa marched in and joined him. The line of
attack was formed, with the Indians spread out on the
flanks and curving forward. The British in Queenston,
seeing the utter impotence of the Americans who refused
to cross over, turned their fire against the Heights;
and the invaders at once realized that their position
had now become desperate.

When Sheaffe struck inland an immediate change of the
American front was required to meet him. Hitherto the
Americans on the Heights had faced down-stream, towards
Queenston, at right angles to the river. Now they were
obliged to face inland, with their backs to the river.
Wadsworth, the American militia brigadier, a very gallant
member of a very gallant family, immediately waived his
rank in favour of Colonel Winfield Scott, a well-trained
regular. Scott and Wadsworth then did all that men could
do in such a dire predicament. But most of the militia
became unmanageable, some of the regulars were comparatively
raw; there was confusion in front, desertion in the rear,
and no coherent whole to meet the rapidly approaching shock.

On came the steady British line, with the exultant Indians
thrown well forward on the flanks; while the indomitable
single gun at Vrooman's Point backed up Holcroft's two
guns in Queenston, and the two hundred muskets under
Dennis joined in this distracting fire against the American
right till the very last moment. The American left was
in almost as bad a case, because it had got entangled in
the woods beyond the summit and become enveloped by the
Indians there. The rear was even worse, as men slank off
from it at every opportunity. The front stood fast under
Winfield Scott and Wadsworth. But not for long. The
British brought their bayonets down and charged. The
Indians raised the war-whoop and bounded forward. The
Americans fired a hurried, nervous, straggling fusillade;
then broke and fled in wild confusion. A very few climbed
down the cliff and swam across. Not a single boat came
over from the 'petrified' militia.