As the converging British drew near them, the Americans on the Heights began to feel the ebbing of their victory.  The least disciplined soon lost confidence and began to slink down to the boats; and very few boats returned when once they had reached their own side safely.  These slinkers naturally made the most of the dangers they had been expecting—­a ruthless Indian massacre included.  The boatmen, nearly all civilians, began to desert.  Alarming doubts and rumours quickly spread confusion through the massed militia, who now perceived that instead of crossing to celebrate a triumph they would have to fight a battle.  John Lovett, who served with credit in the big American battery, gave a graphic description of the scene:  ’The name of Indian, or the sight of the wounded, or the Devil, or something else, petrified them.  Not a regiment, not a company, scarcely a man, would go.’  Van Rensselaer went through the disintegrating ranks and did his utmost to revive the ardour which had been so impetuous only an hour before.  But he ordered, swore, and begged in vain.

Meanwhile the tide of resolution, hope, and coming triumph was rising fast among the British.  They were the attackers now; they had one 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.