‘A Very Daring and Gallant Affair’

Except for among Canadians, the exploits of Royal Navy Lieutenant Miller Worsley have been lost to history. Yet few more exemplary episodes of energy, courage, and audaciousness exist during the War of 1812 than what he and his men accomplished on Lake Huron.

After Master Commandant Oliver Hazard Perry’s victory on Lake Erie in September 1813 and the U.S. victory at the Battle of the Thames at Moraviantown, Upper Canada, that October, the United States controlled that lake and both shores of the Detroit River. However, the British occupation of Fort Michilimackinac on Mackinac Island in northern Lake Huron allowed them, their fur trader compatriots, and their Native American allies to control everything from the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to the northern Mississippi Valley.¹ The key to maintaining their dominance of this region was the logistical supply line along the eastern shore of Lake Huron to Mackinac Island.

During the winter of 1813–14, Lieutenant Colonel Robert McDouall was ordered to command British ground forces in the region and Royal Navy Lieutenant Newdigate Poyntz the naval forces. The lieutenant assumed command of every vessel on the water, from canoes to the North West Company’s former schooners Nancy and Mink, the only sailing vessels on Lake Huron. Although “enjoined to cooperate most cordially” with McDouall, the lieutenant did not work effectively with the lieutenant colonel, who described Poyntz as a “pertinacious” junior officer who was “a great stickler for naval etiquette, [and was] constantly disposed to cavil, and on the watch for opportunities in his naval capacity, to oppose what I wish.” As one might expect, McDouall requested a replacement, even if only a midshipman, who would be “explicitly under my orders.”²

Consequently, naval command was transferred to Lieutenant Worsley, who arrived on Lake Huron in early July. Importantly, the Nancy’s North West Company captain, Alexander Mackintosh, stayed on as the sailing master, providing the ship with someone with a familiarity with Lake Huron that no U.S. vessel would have.

Previously, Mackintosh had saved the Nancy from American capture while transporting passengers and cargo from Mackinac Island to the Detroit River. He unknowingly had sailed in early October 1813 into a region recently “liberated” (from a U.S. perspective) by Major General William Henry Harrison’s soldiers and Perry’s sailors. Even though his passengers encouraged him to surrender to U.S. militiamen on the St. Clair River shore, Mackintosh delayed negotiations until a wind change allowed him to move the Nancy upstream and into Lake Huron. Canadian historian Barry Gough described Mackintosh as “the ultimate sailor of windswept seas.”³

With the traditional supply route through the Detroit River, Lake St. Clair, and the St. Clair River into Lake Huron closed due to U.S. control, the British came up with a new logistical path north of York (present-day Toronto) on Lake Ontario. It required a northward passage on an unimproved road (now Yonge Street) to Holland Landing. From there, one took boats down the Holland River to Lake Simcoe, and then to Kempenfelt Bay, at the lake’s westernmost extremity, where there was a nine-mile portage to Willow Creek.

At this point the British constructed a crude warehouse, stockade, and palisade known as Fort Willow, where they also began constructing shallow-draft bateaux and canoes. From there, one went by canoe to the Nottawasaga River, which eventually discharged to the southernmost extremity of Lake Huron’s large Georgian Bay. It was more than 360 miles from the mouth of the Nottawasaga to Mackinac Island by ship, bateaux, or canoe. Separating Georgian Bay from the main waters of Lake Huron was Manitoulin Island (the largest freshwater island in the world), to the east of which were hundreds of islands, islets, and rocks that required experienced canoes or pilots to navigate.

Lieutenant Miller Worsley, the son of a Church of England minister, had entered the Royal Navy as a volunteer first class in 1805—at age 14. By 1812, he had served on board several warships, including HMS Swiftsure (74 guns) at the Battle of Trafalgar. In 1813, he received a commission as a lieutenant and assignment to the Great Lakes. Ironically, two of those who came with him to North America—Robert Heriot Barclay and Daniel Pring—would lose their respective commands on Lake Erie in 1813 and Lake Champlain a year later. Would Worsley meet the same fate? For a while it certainly appeared so.

Usually, the schooner Nancy helped transport furs and hides from the North West Company’s extensive trading area in the upper Great Lakes region to Niagara Falls. She spent the winter of 1813–14 at Sault Ste. Marie and, after the ice melted, Lieutenants Poyntz and, later, Worsley began using her to carry food, supplies, ammunition, and troops from Nottawasaga Bay to upper Lake Huron. All this was about to be interrupted when a U.S. flotilla commanded by Commodore Arthur Sinclair sailed from Lake Erie into Lake Huron.

With five ships and a few hundred soldiers commanded by Lieutenant Colonel George Croghan, the Americans entered Lake Huron on 13 July 1814. They searched along the southern shore of Georgian Bay but could not find any British ship until the 16th, when a sail was sighted, presumedly the Nancy, but no pursuit was made.⁴

Instead, Sinclair headed for northern Lake Huron, where the squadron entered the St. Marys River en route to Sault Ste. Marie. They sent soldiers to burn the abandoned Fort St. Joseph on the island of that name before reaching the rapids for which Sault Ste. Marie is named. There they captured the small North West Company schooner Mink and subsequently sank the company’s supply ship Perseverance, which had been moored on the Lake Superior side of the falls and was carrying cargo bound for the company’s distant depot at Fort William (present-day Thunder Bay, Ontario). The Americans then razed the company’s storehouses and grist mill at Sault Ste. Marie before heading back down the river and into Lake Huron, where they conducted an abortive attack on Fort Michilimackinac on 4 August. From the U.S. perspective, the North West Company had become a combatant, and its facilities, ships, and commodities were subject to destruction or capture. Moreover, its furs and deerskins made profitable prize monies for the naval officers securing them.

The American failure on Mackinac Island convinced Sinclair to undertake a new operation—blockading the British garrison into submission. The first objective in achieving this goal was the destruction of the Nancy in southern Georgian Bay. He sailed his squadron along with Croghan’s troops in pursuit of her. At the same time, Lieutenant Colonel McDouall sent Lieutenant Robert Livingston of the British Indian Department in a canoe to warn Worsley of the American threat and encourage him to sail “the Nancy and her valuable Cargo” and “to take such steps for their preservation as will appear to you most expedient under the present Circumstances.” This order initially seemed to give Worsley wide latitude in conducting his activities. But McDouall then recommended the young Royal Navy lieutenant “return to the Nottawasaga River, and to take the Nancy up as high as possible—place her in a judicious position, and hastily run up a strong Log House . . . which will enable you to defend her should you be attacked which is not unlikely.”⁵

Given McDouall’s removal of Lieutenant Poyntz from naval command and his demand for subordination by his replacement, Worsley had little option but to follow this “recommendation,” even though he might have been able to find greater safety among the Manitoulin Islands, where Sinclair admitted, “the navigation is dangerous and difficult, and so obscured by rocks and bushes, that no stranger could ever find it.”⁶ Thus the advantage afforded the Nancy by having Alexander Mackintosh as her sailing master was lost. Loaded with a cargo of supplies for Fort Michilimackinac, the Nancy returned to the Nottawasaga River and was taken upstream about two miles, where Worsley hoped she would not be found.⁷

But Sinclair’s force soon discovered the Nancy. Despite some crude log fortifications made to protect the schooner, the U.S. troops attacked on 14 August and seemed about to capture her, so Worsley blew up the Nancy and her cargo. At this point, it looked as though the lieutenant had suffered a defeat as disastrous to British interests as had occurred a year earlier on Lake Erie and would the next month on Lake Champlain. Colonel McDouall’s soldiers and their allies on Mackinac Island appeared destined for defeat by starvation.

Captain Sinclair left the schooners Scorpion and Tigress under the command of Lieutenant Daniel Turner and Sailing Master Stephen Champlin, respectively, to blockade resupply for Mackinac Island, while the remainder of his squadron, including the captured Mink, sailed for Lake Erie. Sinclair ordered Turner “to cut off the Enemies line of communication” to and from Fort Michilimackinac by maintaining “a rigid Blockade until you shall be driven from the Lake by the inclemency of the Season.” This blockade was to include the Nottawasaga and French rivers (the latter was the last part of a long route from the Ottawa River via numerous portages to Lake Nipissing and down the French River) on Georgian Bay as well as the St. Marys River near De Tour Passage at its mouth. He recommended Turner change anchorages frequently “in a way not to be observed by the Enemy,” who might “attempt surprising you in the night by throwing a number of men on board.” Were this not enough, he also asked Turner to make “an accurate survey” of Georgian Bay.⁸ All of these tasks were to be accomplished in the six weeks before the weather required the two blockading ships to withdraw to Detroit.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant Worsley and his sailors had walked for three fatiguing days to Fort Willow, where they found vessels and provisions plus a small group of soldiers destined for Fort Michilimackinac. In two bateaux and a canoe the party rowed down the Nottawasaga and up the east side of Georgian Bay to relieve and resupply McDouall’s garrison. During the 360-mile voyage, Worsley detected and evaded the Scorpion and Tigress. Noting that the two schooner-rigged U.S. gunboats were several miles apart, Worsley, whose “active and indefatigable mind rested not,” suggested to McDouall that they relieve northern Lake Huron of these “troublesome neighbours” by attacking them with his sailors and troops from Mackinac Island’s garrison. Recognizing that Fort Michilimackinac still could not survive the winter without more supplies, McDouall agreed to support the surprise attack.

Taking four small boats, two of which had small field pieces, Worsley, his 17 sailors, and 50 soldiers commanded by Lieutenant Andrew H. Bulger of the Royal Newfoundland Fencible Infantry left Mackinac Island on 1 September. They rowed along the south shore of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula until they were within six miles of the Tigress, anchored in De Tour Passage between the mainland and Drummond Island.⁹

In the darkness of the evening of 3 September, the party quietly rowed toward the Tigress until they were hailed by a sentry when they were within about a hundred yards of the vessel. Although not expecting such an attack, Champlin’s sailors put up a vigorous small-arms fight for a few minutes, but soon the Americans were forced to surrender their vessel. That Champlin had not had any netting around his vessel to retard such a boarding contributed significantly to the relative ease of her being taken. The Americans lost six men killed or missing, and all the Tigress’s officers and several sailors were wounded. The British lost two seamen and two soldiers killed, and several sailors and soldiers were slightly wounded. The following morning, the U.S. prisoners were transported back to Mackinac Island. Worsley kept the Tigress (renamed the Surprise) at anchor, while the Scorpion hove into sight and anchored a short distance away.

The next morning, he ran the newly christened Surprise, flying the U.S. flag, over to the Scorpion and captured her without a fight. As Royal Navy Master’s Mate David Wingfield noted in his journal, “Thus, for the loss of one schooner, he [Worsley] added two to the service.” Wingfield correctly summarized the capture of the two schooners as “a very daring and gallant affair.”¹⁰

Colonel McDouall was ecstatic. He commended the “conspicuous merit” exhibited by Worsley, “who so judiciously planned & carried into effect this well concerted enterprise,” and acknowledged “the eminent services which he has rendered this Garrison.” He strongly recommended to General Gordon Drummond that he urge Commodore Sir James Yeo, commander of the Royal Navy’s Great Lakes naval forces, to bring to the attention of the Admiralty Lieutenant Worsley’s significant contributions to the war effort on Lake Huron. Yeo did so in a brief mention of the incident in a letter to the Admiralty in October.¹¹

Captain Sinclair was furious. He had learned of the captures from the boatswain and four sailors from the Scorpion and placed the blame on “the well known character of Lieut. Turner.” He had disobeyed Sinclair’s order to guard the mouth of the Nottawasaga River, which, if he had done so, would have prevented Worsley making his journey northward.

Second, the two unwatchful crews had allowed Worsley to reach Mackinac Island without being detected. Third, Turner did not require either the Scorpion or Tigress to use the antiboarding nets Sinclair had provided the vessels. Fourth, Turner made no effort to signal the Tigress when he anchored a short distance from her on the night of 5 September. Had he done so, the upper lakes commodore alleged, he would have found that Sailing Master Champlin was no longer in command.

Finally, as the Surprise approached the Scorpion, there was no officer on deck to possibly identify that the captured ship’s crew were not Americans. As noted previously, Sinclair had warned Turner as they parted that his every effort must “guard him against surprise.” Obviously this requirement had not been met. The upper lakes commodore found himself chagrined when he learned that so “little regard” was paid to his instructions “and the evil consequences growing out of such neglect.”¹²

But Worsley’s victory would be largely forgotten because the British negotiators at Ghent, Belgium, capitulated on an uti possidetus policy (territory occupied by a country remains in its possession after the war’s end) and instead accepted a status quo ante bellum procedure whereby prewar boundaries were restored. This meant the British gave up their control from Michigan’s Upper Peninsula to Prairie du Chien in present-day Wisconsin and of the U.S. side of the Niagara River mouth in exchange for the American return of what became southwestern Ontario. This allowed His Majesty’s Government to share the Detroit River–to–St. Clair River watershed with the United States.

Without this binational access to the upper Great Lakes, the exploitation of what became northwestern Ontario would have been difficult and Canada would have lost its southernmost extremity with what is perhaps the most fertile agricultural land in the nation. One must keep in mind that the upper lakes region was known then for its furs and deerskins, not for the mineral wealth that would be exploited later in the 19th century. Or, as Canadian historian Pierre Berton deftly summarized it, “Both sides are more interested in saving face than they are in clinging to bits of real estate or keeping promises to obscure native chieftains.”¹³

An outraged McDouall anguished over the Ghent Treaty results. Worsley’s efforts had allowed the British to survive the 1814–15 winter at Fort Michilimackinac and now this “fine Island, ‘a fortress built by Nature for herself’” had to be returned to the United States, and the Native Americans who had fought so determinedly on His Majesty’s behalf would again be abandoned, despite repeated promises they would not be betrayed.

For all Worsley’s audacity and bravery, the rewards for his devotion to the British cause were few. He suffered from “lake fever,” a sickness common among Great Lakes seamen, and, although he received promotion to commander in 1815, he retired on half pay at the family home on the Isle of Wight, where he married, fathered a family, and died in 1835. Canadians largely ignored his achievements until the early 20th century, when the remains of the Nancy were discovered. Today the charred remnant of her hull is displayed in a museum administered by the Wasaga Beach Provincial Park (see “Museum Report,” December 2012, p. 72). The only place name commemorating the lieutenant’s exploits is a street named Worsley in Barrie, Ontario.

Otherwise, Worsley’s “very daring and gallant affair” demonstrating enterprise, skill, intrepidity, and surprise has been largely ignored in Royal Navy history and in U.S. accounts of naval actions in the War of 1812. But in Canada, the Nancy and her crew are a national legend of defiance against the powerful nation to the south. Canadian folk-song writer and singer Stan Rogers wrote “The Nancy,” which extols Captain Mackintosh and his small crew, who disdained those in powdered hair who advised surrender. The 1813 escape of the vessel from the St. Clair River into Lake Huron would lead to legendary accomplishments the following year. This ballad has become a virtual second Canadian national anthem that concludes:

Oh, military gentlemen, they bluster, roar and pray.

Nine sailors and the Nancy, boys, made fifty run away.

The powder in their hair that day was powder sent
their way

By poor and ragged sailor men, who swore that they would stay.¹⁴