An Enquiry into the Competence (or lack thereof) of Major-General Henry Proctor As Demonstrated by His Period In Command Of the Right Division In The Western District of Upper Canada In The Year 1813

By James Yaworsky
Sandwich, in the Western District

The competence of Major-General Henry Proctor was assessed as being ‘high’ in Sandy
Antal’s book “A Wampum Denied”. Is this a definitive assessment?

The issue of Proctor’s competence or lack thereof is a complex issue that has sparked the
spilling of much ink over the years, yet surprisingly, a lot of very basic work still needs to be
done to give a truly definitive and satisfactory “verdict”.

It is my personal conclusion is that while I have sympathy for Proctor as a man put in a very
difficult position, nevertheless I believe that he was a very poor general and a rather
unlikeable character.

I must dispute Major Antal’s characterization of Proctor as having had three decades of
“distinguished service” prior to the War of 1812. Proctor’s prior service essentially
consisted of running a peacetime regiment: he was, to most intents and purposes, a paper-
pusher.

The art of generalship, even in 1812, required more than looking brave at the head of the
troops. It also required more than identifying major strategic goals. The art of generalship,
then as now, also lies in knowing the nuts and bolts of one’s resources and the enemy’s,
and being able to gauge the capacities of men and material. In making imaginative yet
realistic plans, then demonstrating strength of character and purpose in carrying those
plans out - amending them when necessary, seizing unexpected opportunities, and not
being sidetracked by distractions. Most successful generals also had to earn the respect,
if not the affection, of their troops.

In virtually every category of “generalship” that I have come across in my studies, Proctor
showed himself to be deficient.

Anyone put in a position tasked with defending Fort Amherstburg, and knowing that the
enemy had the imminent potential to achieve complete naval superiority on the Upper
Great Lakes, while fielding an army that outnumbered yours by many times, would realize
that drastic action of some sort would be required to avoid disaster. You would also no
doubt appreciate that if the enemy achieved naval superiority on Lake Erie, the only
“drastic action” left to avoid being cut off from your supply bases on Lake Ontario would
probably involve a retreat to a more defensible position with a secure line of supply. Your
appreciation of this obvious strategic fact does not mean that you would make a good
commander of the Right Division of the Army of Upper Canada in late September of
1813....

Yet apologists for General Proctor always seem impressed that in his correspondence to
his superiors he pointed out the danger posed by American Perry’s fleet “a-building” at
Erie, Pennsylvania. They always “defend” his decision to retreat as if it displayed some
sort of strategic brilliance on Proctor’s part.

The real issues, however, are more subtle. Proctor’s superiors fully appreciated the threat
Perry’s fleet posed, and also realized once naval superiority was lost, a retreat was
inevitable. They were not idiots.

The real issue when judging Proctor’s performance regarding the threat posed by Perry’s
fleet requires recognizing that operations in the Western District were not occurring in a
vacuum.

In fact, the British Niagara “Center” Division was fighting for its life over most of the spring
and summer of 1813.

The Americans captured the Niagara River forts and advanced to within 10 miles of
Burlington Heights (Hamilton). They captured and burned York. They had naval command
of Lake Ontario for months. So given the desperate plight the Center Division was in, it
was very unlikely, to say the least, that it would be able to send much help to the Right
Division. What would be the point in sending reinforcements to Proctor, just to have them
cut off by an American attack on the Niagara, or at Kingston, or Montreal? Such an
ill-advised move could only in fact increase the prospects for a successful American
attack on a numerically reduced Center Division.

The real issue can be stated thus: what effective steps did Proctor take to counter the
threat the U.S. fleet a-building at Erie represented to his command? In view of the
preceding paragraph, sending letters to his superiors pleading for reinforcements was
hardly a “plan” likely to succeed in accomplishing anything.

It is vital to recognize that the issue of Proctor’s strategic competence requires assessing it
in two completely different strategic periods, separated by the “great divide” of the Battle of
Lake Erie (September 10, 1813), an event which totally changed the strategic options open
to Proctor.

Before the Battle of Lake Erie, Proctor had naval superiority on the upper Great Lakes,
which in essence gave him the strategic option to conduct an active and bold defence. He
had the advantage of being able to move troops large distances relatively quickly, of being
able to concentrate forces from several bases easily, of being able to carry supplies in
transport ships.

American attacks would be “funneled” into places where shore-batteries could cover river-
crossings - a relatively short stretch of the Detroit and (potentially) St. Clair Rivers - with

American supply lines to those locations exposed to naval attack along the shores of Lake
Erie, the Detroit River, and Lake St. Clair.

In fact, in 1812 Brock and Tecumseh had demonstrated that Detroit was untenable by the
Americans without naval command of the Upper Lakes. The advantages of naval power
were never greater than in the Upper Lakes region of the War of 1812, because settlement
was still very sparse in this vast region, and what few ‘roads’ existed were primitive in the
extreme.

After the Battle of Lake Erie, only a passive defensive stance was possible. The Americans
could now move faster, while Proctor’s supplies could only come safely down the Thames
in small boats - and even these would be vulnerable to American raiding parties dropped
on the north shore of Lake Erie by the American fleet. The entire coastline from Fort Erie
to Mackinac was vulnerable to American fleet-born attack.

So let us consider what advantage Proctor took of the naval superiority he enjoyed before
naval command of Lake Erie was lost.

The only avenue for American attack on his command had to be along the coast of the
west end of Lake Erie. Proctor’s first big success was at Frenchtown in January of 1813,
when part of American General Harrison’s army, under the rash and incompetent
command of Winchester, was destroyed.

Proctor deserves credit for realizing that Winchester had put his force into an exposed
position, and Proctor deserves credit for swiftly concentrating most of his forces and
launching a “pre-emptive” strike.

However, a detailed examination of the battle shows Proctor to have been an inept “grand-
tactician”: instead of immediately charging the American positions in a surprise dawn
attack, he frittered away the surprise by lining up his troops into a formal attack formation,
and insisting on bringing his artillery forward. The Right Division paid for Proctor’s
ineptness in high casualties. Fortunately, the Indians were not quite so unimaginative and
“conventional”: they overran the American position facing them, thereby inducing
Winchester to surrender his entire force. Proctor ended up being promoted.

Proctor’s next step was to attempt a siege of Fort Meigs on the Maumee River in April/May
of 1813. His troops and supplies were easily transported by the British squadron, but was
Proctor’s force likely to be able to capture a larger American force dug in to the formidable
position of Fort Meigs?

Tecumseh’s First Nations warriors constituted a formidable fighting force – but not against
the walls of a fort. Starving the American garrison out appeared to afford the only
reasonable chance of success, but that would take time. Unless Proctor had reliable
information that supplies in the fort were minimal, it was a risky move to try and tackle the
main American force under these conditions.

It seems Proctor didn’t know the state of American provisions in the fort, whereas all his
own supplies (and probably what was necessary to keep the Indian Allies fed) would have
to be ferried to the site by the British naval squadron. While this was probably possible, it
could never be as efficient or dependable as the American force being able to utilize
supplies already in the fort.

Two main facts are now remembered about the first siege: Tecumseh was able to ambush
and destroy a large force of American reinforcements under Dudley; and as the Indian
allies drifted away in the wake of this successful action, Proctor was “forced” to lift the
siege. But was Proctor ever likely to have captured the Fort, short of starving the
Americans out?

It turns out that the British bombardment of the fort was largely ineffective. Proctor did not
have sufficient troops to escalade the Fort. Instead, he made totally ineffective efforts to
conduct formal siege operations to breach its walls.

Proctor’s establishment of a small battery on the south shore of the Maumee merely
exposed the small number of men at this position to an American sortie; and in fact while
Tecumseh was ambushing Dudley’s force, this second British battery position was overrun
and most of its men taken prisoner.

Hindsight shows that Proctor’s attempt on Meigs was ill-conceived and his handling of the
“siege” largely inept. Luckily for Proctor, Tecumseh’s major victory over Dudley attracted
most of the attention of Proctor’s superiors and the expedition was judged a “success”,
with Proctor being again promoted.

Despite his failure in April, July saw Proctor, at the insistence of the Indian allies, again
mounting an offensive, and again directing it initially at Fort Meigs. This time, there was not
even a pretense of being able to capture the Fort - resort was had to a stratagem (i.e. trick)
suggested by Tecumseh. When this failed, Proctor then went looking for easier pickings.

He chose to attack Fort Stephenson. Here, he again demonstrated a dangerous lack of
tactical expertise when he ordered an escalade be attempted after inadequate
reconnaisance that ended in bloody ruin for the assaulting columns of the 41st. After this
fiasco, the confidence of the 41st in Proctor as a field commander was gone.

The second expedition thus had been a strategic failure (as had the first) but this time
without a flashy tactical success to gloss over that failure. No promotion for General
Proctor. Also, there would not be a third expedition.

The question about Proctor’s actions that arises from this quick review is: why did Proctor
attack Fort Meigs, when the American base at Erie (where the fleet was a-building) was
merely a few hours more sailing distance for the British squadron?

The main American army in the region was entrenched in a powerful position at Meigs and
could not have possibly marched to the relief of Erie in the time the British could have
sailed there. Leaving a ship in the Detroit River would have stymied any American attack
on Upper Canada - a very unlikely possibility anyway - while the main British force was
attending to Erie. Even if Detroit had to be abandoned this would have been temporary
because it had been shown in 1812 that Detroit was untenable to the Americans without
naval command of the Upper Lakes.

In 1813 and 1814, British forces and the British Lake Ontario fleet conducted “spoiling
attacks” against the main American base on Lake Ontario, Sackett’s Harbor, and on
Oswego, a major location on the American fleet’s lines of supply. Whether these attacks
succeeded in capturing and destroying these locations, in each case, American actions in
panicking and burning precious naval stores, or British ability to do so, had a critical effect
on subsequent naval construction on Lake Ontario and in fact helped the British hold or
secure naval command of that Lake, having a major impact on the fortunes of the Center
Division on the Niagara frontier. Ironically, the American Lake Ontario fleet also attacked
York (Toronto) several times, in the first instance, resulting in the destruction of vital
supplies intended for the British Lake Erie squadron.

Erie certainly was not as big a base as Sackett’s Harbor or Oswego or even York. The
American garrison at Erie consisted largely of ill-trained Pennsylvania militia. It therefore
appears that Proctor might have attacked Erie with a good prospect of either capturing or
destroying the nascent American squadron.

Even if there was a repetition of the events at Sackett’s Harbor (i.e. British assault
withstood but crucial supplies torched) then British naval superiority on Lake Erie might
have been maintained for the balance of 1813 or perhaps even the balance of the war.

Would Brock have sent letters to his superiors, asking for reinforcements he knew he was
very unlikely to receive, or would Brock have attacked Erie with everything he could
muster?

To ask the question is to answer it because Brock’s strategic situation at the start of the
War was every bit as serious and challenging as Proctor’s in 1813. The mystery is why
Proctor was unwilling to attack Erie, but was willing to “take on” Fort Meigs, which appears
to definitely have been a much harder nut to crack. Proximity to the Detroit River forts if
things went poorly? Not a very optimistic approach!

If Proctor didn’t know that Erie was the more important target, he should have. There is
every reason to believe from his correspondence that he was fully aware of how important
Erie was – he just lacked the imagination or the nerve to give it a try.

Again, to my knowledge no detailed work has been done to determine what sources of
intelligence information Proctor had at his disposal. However, with naval command of the
Lake, and Indian command of the woods, there appears no evident reason why Proctor
could not have easily had Meigs, Stephenson, and Erie properly scouted.

The Court-martial proceedings reveal that Proctor neglected to properly reconnoiter the
area of the Thames River he was proposing to retreat to. Frankly it is not hard to believe
that he also neglected this important process earlier in the campaign year.

After September 10, 1813, and the Battle of Lake Erie, such questions became redundant.
Proctor then only had two options: retreat, or stand and fight when the Americans attacked.
If a battle was to be sought, it would have to be under conditions and in a place where the
Americans would not be able to “surround” the British force and starve it out. Thus, if the
Americans were attacking Fort Amherstburg, an option might be an aggressive assault on
the Americans when trying to land from their ships. It would not be an option to sit in the
Fort, get surrounded and besieged, and eventually be starved out.

If a battle was to be sought, it would have to be on terrain that would maximize the tactical
advantages the Anglo/Canadian and Indian alliance possessed.

For the British regulars, the best terrain would be open fields where their superior training
in the formal movements of line and column and volley-fire could be maximized. The
British also could field a larger train of artillery than the Americans: also at its most
destructive in open fields.

For the militia and Indians, the woods were best. Approximately 4,000 warriors were
reputed to be at Malden: a formidable force.

The ideal battlefield for Proctor would therefore see the British force in open fields where
they could maneuver and their artillery could be brought to bear, with woods on the flanks
where the large Indian force could chop any American flank attack up, and perhaps launch
a flank attack of their own.

In fact, the ideal battlefield for Proctor as described above is pretty much a description of
the battlefield of Chrysler’s Farm, fought in November of 1813; a battle where the British
force was outnumbered as badly as Proctor at the Battle of the Thames a month earlier; a
battle where the British force had less artillery than Proctor; a militia/fencible/Indian

component much smaller than Proctor had available initially; and where a sizable part of
the American force were trained “regulars” as opposed to merely militia. Yet a battle that
the British won handily.

Was such a position available to Proctor? A position with one flank on a body of water, the
other in the woods, with open flat fields in the center describes many localities along the
Detroit and Thames rivers, and Lake St. Clair’s shores. If Proctor had fought on such a
site near Amherstburg, he would have had 4,000 Indian warriors at his disposal, as
opposed to the approximately 600 who were at Moraviantown.

The Americans did little or no advance reconnaissance before landing on a point in Lake
Erie south of Fort Amherstburg. They were surprised to discover Fort Amherstburg had
been evacuated. They had made no effort to “get around” the Fort.

Purely aside from all the positions between Fort Amherstburg and the eventual battlefield
of the Battle of the Thames that would meet the criteria listed above for a “good” battle
terrain for Proctor, the Court-martial came to the conclusion that a suitable position
(described in virtually the terms written above) was within a few miles of Proctor’s
battlefield: the Moraviantown position.

It is described as having fairly extensive fields cleared by the villagers, with the Thames on
the left flank and woods on the right. Most of Proctor’s field artillery was in fact being sited
on this position even as the battle was being lost a few miles farther west, in circumstances
that will be discussed below.

General Proctor conduct of his own defense at his court-martial falls under the classic
adage of the “lawyer who defends himself having a fool for a client”. It is hard to gather just
what Proctor’s plans and thinking processes were in the critical weeks after the loss of the
squadron and before the disastrous Battle of the Thames. He commits the classic
beginner-litigator’s error of trying to defend himself on every single point in contention, with
the result that his testimony is full of contradictions and patent absurdities.

It is possible, of course, that his “plan” was in fact shifting frequently under the press of
events. This in itself can be the mark of a good general. However, what comes across in
the Court Martial is a picture of a “general” flip-flopping aimlessly, appearing to flail about
in his decisions, without any apparent consistent and logical end-game strategy.

Proctor is accused of dilly-dallying in the conduct of the retreat. His defense was that the
Indians could not be got to move faster, and if the Division abandoned the District too
precipitately, the Indians would “fall upon” the populace. In fact, the vast majority of the
Indian force appears to have merely dissipated in the face of lack of effective action by
Proctor. Four thousand warriors at Fort Amherstburg initially had dwindled to about 600 by
the time the battle was actually fought.

Would a battle near Fort Amherstburg have been useful? The prospects for success might
have been higher than they were on October 5, but admittedly this is stated with the
hindsight of knowing how badly botched were certain aspects of the retreat.

Proctor seems to have decided that a battle near Amherstburg could not be won, risked
the Division being bypassed and cut off by an American naval landing farther upstream,
and that therefore a further retreat was advisable.
The question then became: to where? The Indians are used as an excuse for the

tardiness of the retreat, yet an actual “honourable” (if lost) battle to cement Anglo-Indian
friendship seems to have been rejected by Proctor as an option.

At various times, Proctor indicated he was retreating to Chatham, Dolsan’s Farm, or
Moraviantown, supposedly to set up a new base. No advance preparation for such a
strategy had been implemented before the naval battle, although Proctor had indicated that
he knew chances of naval success were slim. No proper reconnaissance of the “lower
Thames” position was carried out, and even shortly before the troops arrived, basic
investigation of the possible vulnerability of the Chatham position to being cut off by an
American force or even raiding party, landed on the north shore of Lake Erie was being
done. This was after Proctor had made firm commitments to his Indian allies, and after
much effort had been expended in moving heavy naval stores to Chatham that would be
lost or captured if a further retreat proved necessary.

Just how a large force, including a substantial Indian allies contingent – could be kept
sheltered and supplied via the primitive route from Dundas and down the Thames River
over a Canadian winter was never explained but it appears a ridiculous option. It was
proving a difficult task when the Division and Indian Allies were located along the Detroit
River with naval access still available on Lake Erie. This is to say nothing about the real
possibility of an American landing somewhere farther east along the north shore of Lake
Erie which could cut the Division off from the proposed eastern supply bases.

At other points, Proctor ultimately ended up indicating he intended retreating to Burford, a
small settlement and the most western point on what might be considered the ‘Center
Division’s” area of operations. This would certainly have been a place easier to supply
from Burlington, but of course it meant totally abandoning any notion that the Right Division
was going to continue disputing control of the Detroit frontier or the naval control of the
Upper Lakes - or indeed, of supporting the western native allies. This was a concession
that Proctor, most of the time, was unwilling to make.

Although Proctor evidently prided himself on his administrative abilities, it is hard to see
much evidence of them in the arrangements made for the retreat - and much evidence of
disharmony and poor management in the Division command.

Colonel Warburton, in command of Fort Amherstburg, heard a commotion going on at one
of the bastions. On investigating, he found the Division’s engineer and a work party
dismantling the bastion’s woodwork, under the direct observation of some very agitated
Indian allies. Upon ordering the work to stop and writing to Proctor to find out what was
going on, he received an icy reply from his commander stating that Proctor reserved the
right to give orders to his staff without consulting with other officers. Yet not only was
Warburton in command of the Fort, he was second in command of the Division! After
receiving this gross insult from his superior, Warburton never protested or even
commented on any other arrangements ordered by Proctor until the final disaster, although
at the Court-martial his testimony on most of those arrangements was scathing.

It is evident from the court-martial that Proctor had a very bad practice of keeping some of
his senior officers completely in the dark, while operating via a few relatively junior
“favourites”, whom some in the Division considered to be “flunkies”.

Proctor’s command was riven with dissension, and ultimately, most of it appears to have
been caused by Proctor’s poor management.

Proctor vigorously insisted that he was not retreating to the Center Division at Burlington
Heights, but only to the ‘lower Thames’, where he could maintain contact with the Western
Indians, keep the American western forces tied up, and prepare a counter-offensive, free
from the threat of the American fleet on the Upper Lakes cutting his supply line. Yet
Proctor also points out that his force - and in particular the large numbers of Western
Indians attached to it - was practically starving and was totally dependent on large
amounts of supplies being forwarded from Burlington.

How were these supplies to be delivered down the narrow Thames River, particularly to a
force camped out in the open over a Canadian winter?

It is also proved impossible for anyone, including the Prosecutor at the court-martial, to pin
down Proctor as to exactly where on the lower Thames he proposed setting up his new
base. He had promised the Indians it would be at “The Forks” (Chatham) yet he also
indicated that Dolsan’s Farm was to be fortified. And then Moraviantown was under active
consideration: he left the Division twice to go and reconnoiter Moraviantown.

In the end, none of these locations were “fortified”, perhaps because the Americans
captured the Division’s entrenching tools which had negligently been left towards the rear
of the Division’s baggage train.

In fact, the handling of the details of the retreat would have to be rated as demonstrating
virtually criminal negligence. The “rearguard” was never properly organized. Poor handling
of the Division’s retreat was evident from virtually the start. The strength of the Division
was dissipated in penny-packets of troops detailed to guard not only the Division’s
hospital, with its sick, but a cattle herd, the boats, prisoner-of-war escorts, and baggage
details – including Proctor and his family’s personal possessions.

Instead of moving in one fairly compact mass, the Division’s components were strung out
over miles of river and the “road” (i.e. primitive trail) bordering the river (and now known as
Highway #2 – the Longwoods Road).

The end result was that a significant percentage of the Division’s infantry strength was not
present for the decisive battle.

In pursuance of his stated plan of establishing a new naval base, Proctor pointed out the
amount of naval stores brought at great expense and trouble to a position just upstream of
Chatham. Unfortunately, all these stores ended up having to be burned or dumped in the
Thames, a process completed as American advance scouts opened fire on the ad hoc
“rearguard” that barely managed to prevent these valuable stores (and themselves) from
being captured by the Enemy. The Division itself was some miles farther east when this
near-disaster occurred - yet another demonstration of poor organization and generalship on
Proctor’s part.

The morning of October 5 found the Division’s artillery already occupying positions on the
Moraviantown site, while the infantry prepared to march the relatively short distance from
Sherman’s Farm (Thamesville) to Moraviantown. While on the march, rumours of the
American army rapidly gaining on the British force caused Proctor to halt the column, ride
off to reconnoiter the Americans, then come dashing back up the road to the column, which
he ordered into the woods in the position on which the battle would be fought.

The infantry could muster approximately 300 white troops (300 more had either been
captured, or were ahead on the route of march in the small parties discussed above). The
companies were marched into the woods “reversed” so that what were normally the rear
rank soldiers were in the front rank, and the soldier who would normally be the “right

marker” (i.e. the first soldier in the first rank on the right of the company) was instead on the
left end of the rear rank.

The soldiers were hastily positioned in a very extended order, where they were left to stare
west in to light woods, with every expectation from their hasty and irregular deployment by
Proctor that the Americans would be pouring through those woods shortly.

Instead of an immediate attack, however, the soldiers found themselves standing around
for a few hours - more than enough time for them to have completed their march to
Moraviantown, where they could have had the benefit of fighting as they were trained on
the open fields of the settlement, and with the Division’s superior artillery resources fully
deployed in their support.

This interval of time was not used by Proctor to place the soldiers in their normal formation,
or do anything calculated to bolster their flagging morale. In fact, they were deployed in an
even greater extended order when Proctor, at the suggestion of Tecumseh, decided a
reserve line was necessary, and two companies were pulled back to form it. The remaining
men had to cover the same frontage and were therefore dispersed at even greater
intervals. Tecumseh then made a morale-building transit of the British line – Proctor did
nothing of much immediate use, considering he was expecting an imminent battle.
A note was penned directed to the supply depot at Burlington Heights requesting an
immediate shipment of musket ammunition, as the Division’s reserve had been captured
with the Division’s boats, which had fallen behind the main column. Proctor couldn’t
possibly have expected fresh ammunition to arrive from Burlington for weeks, however.
Some inquiries were also made by Proctor about having biscuit ready for the troops after
the battle.

There is thus every indication that Proctor fully expected to win. Alternatively, we are
seeing the dazed actions of someone who is losing touch with reality.
What was Proctor anticipating would happen? Was the disposition of the troops Proctor’s
idea, or Tecumseh’s?

The plan, in any event, appears to have been to spring an ambush of the advancing
American force. Coming along the road, probably not fully deployed in any sort of battle
formation, the Americans would be checked by the fire of the 41st’s skirmish line. At the
correct psychological moment, Tecumseh’s force, deployed hidden in the swamp/woods
to the north of the British, would charge into the unexpecting and unprepared American
left flank. Hopefully, this would cause the Americans to panic, lose any cohesion, and
start running. The ensuing pursuit by Tecumseh’s vengeful warriors would not be pretty...
It was not a bad plan per se, but it meant Proctor was putting all his eggs in one basket. If
the Americans could not be ‘checked’ by the extremely diffused firepower of the 41st in
extended formation, then the lines would quickly be overrun. If the Indian attack was not
precisely timed, it would largely lose its effect.

In addition, the plan didn’t take in to account the fact that the Americans were scouting
ahead of themselves and had identified the ‘allied’ dispositions accurately before devising
their own battle plan. They were in a ‘fired-up’ state of mind, having also learned lessons
from atrocities committed against them in earlier battles. Mainly, that attempting to run
was not a good idea, and surrendering could be suicide.

Yet the troops of the Division had been deployed in such a manner that defeat was
virtually inevitable unless the American force collapsed almost immediately. The troops
were spread out in a very thin line in woods - a position which entirely threw away the
advantage to be gained from their superior training in standard linear tactics over their
American adversaries.

Although it must be conceded that with only the ammunition that each soldier carried on his
person, the infantry could not carry on any prolonged firefight with the Americans. The fact
remains, however, that the formation was too spread out to allow for the concentration of
sufficient firepower at any point in the line to be able to check a determined assault by a
concentrated formation of Americans. And in fact, American General Harrison quickly saw
this and mounted just such an assault – using mounted infantry to overwhelm the 41st. A
possibility that Proctor had lacked the imagination to foresee despite knowing a substantial
part of the American army were in fact mounted infantrymen.

The British “line” (which in effect was a very dispersed skirmish line) collapsed in less than
10 minutes – probably much less - of the attack commencing. Most of the soldiers,
hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned, were forced to surrender.

Tecumseh’s assault was thrown off balance by the swiftness of the British collapse, and
the Americans had foreseen it and taken appropriate measures to meet it. Despite putting
up a hard fight, it stood no chance of success.

Proctor had again demonstrated his ineptness at battle tactics – or had chosen to take a
gamble that perhaps could be justified by the extreme situation the Anglo-Indian alliance
faced. Yet at the Court Martial he persisted in insisting not only that he had “chosen” the
battlefield, but that it was superior to the Moraviantown position, and that his infantrymen
had let him down.

The truth would appear to be that the battlefield was determined in a virtual moment of
panic, or at the insistence of Tecumseh, as evidenced by the sequence of events and the
fact the artillery was being deployed on the Moravian position; that it was a very inferior
position to that at Moraviantown for any sort of serious prolonged engagement; and he had
as well thrown away the advantages of his infantry’s training by his incompetence.
If battle had been offered at Moraviantown instead, it is possible Harrison would have
looked over the British/Indian position, and decided attacking was too risky. If he had
attacked, the British artillery would have decimated troops advancing over open ground.
Harrison could not have had knowledge of exactly how many Indians would have been in
the woods on the British right flank – but he did know they were led by Tecumseh. And
redcoats lined up in proper formation for a set-piece battle would also be intimidating.
Of course, the game of ‘what if?’ can have many possible outcomes. However, it does
seem that the gamble Proctor took had a very long shot at working at best, and was much
more likely to turn out as the disaster that in fact occurred.

In fairness to Proctor, many of the minor disasters which occurred on the Retreat – the
losses of manpower and ammunition in particular – might have been prevented if the
officers in immediate charge had acted with more imagination and promptitude.
Collectively these various disasters had certainly put matters into truly desperate territory
and contributed significantly to limiting Proctor’s options on the day of the battle. Proctor
himself at the Court Martial made a comment to the effect that there were many “other
stories” about his officers that would “explain much”.

Yet ultimately, it appears Proctor had followed a course of action for a very long time that
not only alienated his officers but stifled their initiative. The junior officers he did
choose to rely on were simply too inexperienced to do a good job.

Nothing illustrates the relations between Proctor and the majority of his officers more
tellingly than their reaction to Tecumseh’s comparison of Proctor to a dog who runs off with
its tail between its leg when things get rough, made at a conference at Fort Amherstburg
just after the Battle of Lake Erie: they laughed right along with the Indian allies present.
In short, Proctor lacked the “people skills” to command an army.

Major Antol’s primary thesis sees Proctor as faithfully and perceptively following Brock’s
“Indian buffer state” plan. Given that this plan was conceived and mandated by his
superior officers, he was of course under a duty to advance it. Unfortunately, while there is
some evidence that he tried to keep the Indians happy, he had a fundamental lack of the
skills and personality necessary to utilize their services effectively and remain in harmony
with them.

Every report of his contacts with Tecumseh and the other Indian allies reads as an
awkward encounter where the Indians usually indicate either their serious disagreement
with his proposals, or total lack of respect for his abilities not only as a general, but his
character as a man.

Proctor never seems to have understood either the strengths or weaknesses of the Indian
allies: for example, he constantly complains about their “lack of discipline”. I am also
unaware that he ever communicated any real sympathy for their aspirations (except in the
perhaps self-serving post-war writings mentioned by Major Antal) - but certainly at the time
the events were “going down”, his attitude appeared to be that they were merely child-like
tools to be manipulated.

It seems the more perceptive Indian leaders fully suspected - or realized -this was his
attitude, and acted accordingly. Whether it truly was or wasn’t his attitude then becomes
immaterial when judging his success and skill as a leader. He must have known he was
held in little regard by them, yet did nothing to correct that impression, if indeed it was
‘correctible’ and not in truth quite accurate.

In summary, it is difficult to see how Proctor deserves much credit for his skill or astuteness
in his dealings with the Indian Allies.

One last issue deserves comment - the “scapegoat” theory (i.e. that the “higher ups”
purposefully set out to make Proctor the scapegoat for the Moraviantown disaster, to
deflect any blame that might (and, so the theory goes, should) have attached to them for
starving Proctor of resources and then expecting the impossible from him. The means to
this end was, the theory goes, a smear campaign, then the laying of Court-Martial charges.
The “scapegoat” theory cannot stand up to a careful reading of the Court-Martial transcript
and its supporting documents. Proctor insisted on the Court-Martial. His only complaint
was with the scope of the inquiry, which was restricted to examining his conduct on the
“retreat” side of the great divide of the Battle of Lake Erie.

In fact, over the entire course of the assembling and then sittings of the Court-Martial,
Proctor showed himself to be petty, none too astute, and more than a little paranoid.
He insisted on wanting to call some witnesses who would obviously be of little or no
benefit: example: Robert Dixon, who was in charge of Indian relations out of Mackinac and
into the Upper Mississippi. Apparently, Proctor thought Dixon’s testimony on the fickleness
of the Indian Allies, and the necessity of keeping them happy, would bolster his defence of
his actions with the Western tribes hundreds of miles from where Dixon was serving at the
relevant times.

Proctor was totally fixated on having the Court-Martial at the earliest possible moment so
that he could be vindicated. He seemed to lose sight of the fact that a War was being
fought, however: witnesses and senior officers required for the panel were also required for
active service in beating off the American attacks of 1814!

While the Court Martial panel contained a few non-entities, it also had the benefit of the
experiences of several famous names: De Salaberry and Morrison among them: both
victors in battles with the Americans despite being as badly outnumbered as Proctor had
been. It must also be noted that the Prince Regent, after reading the Court-Martial verdict,
expressed disgust with Proctor’s ineptness and indicated that he thought the sentence was
far too lenient. The Prince Regent was a high enough authority to be free of any bias.
​
In summary, and in fairness to John Richardson, who lived through the events discussed
above, saw the human results of Proctor’s shortcomings in the shape of wounded and
killed comrades, who had to experience many months in an American prisoner-of-war
camp and who went on to participate in and presumably gain insight in to military affairs
from much better-conducted military operations before sitting down to write his works, it
would have to be said that Richardson’s portrayal of Proctor is far more persuasive
than that of the revisionists who would paint Proctor as an astute general who was made
the scapegoat for the mistakes of his superiors.