The British ships opened fire at long range with no apparent effect. As the cannon fire rumbled, the Americans closed the distance until, at very close range, they opened fire. Even though each ironclad only had a pair of guns, they were large caliber and the effect was devastating. The unarmored schooners seemed to disintegrate before their eyes as the shells crushed their hulls and began fires that devoured the wooden ships. A steamer took a hit in her boiler and blew up, showering the ironclads with debris.

Within a few moments, it was over. There were no British ships on the Great Lakes.

The American warships made no attempt to keep the British lifeboats from picking up survivors. Instead, the three Union ironclads moved close to shore with studied insolence. Except for a few dents, they were unharmed by their encounter with the British ships.

For the next hour, they ranged the waterfront and fired at anything they wished. They smashed buildings and shattered bunkers. Fires were started, and no one could get out of their trenches to stop them. Since most buildings contained soldiers, there were numerous casualties.

Wolsey lay on his belly in a ditch as dirt and debris rained down on him. General Gough was beside him. There were only a handful of guns on the American ships, but the British could not oppose them. It was execution, not battle.

Finally it was over and the three American ironclads steamed away, doubtless short of ammunition. Wolsey got up from the ditch and shook mud off his uniform. Gough was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, shaken, but otherwise unharmed. The Union ships were heading towards St. Catherines, which the Americans had taken several days before. They would be back and would commence a blockade.

There would be no more supplies from Montreal and no relief column was going to save them. It was a bitter truth_: but one that had to be confronted. That evening, it was almost with relief that Wolsey got the summons from General Campbell to attend a council of war. Campbell could call it what he wished. Wolsey thought, but he doubted there would be very much war for him any longer

Brevet Colonel Nathan Hunter once again rode under flag of truce towards the enemy lines. He paused as a lone rider emerged from behind an earthen embankment. Nathan stifled a grin when he realized it was Brigadier General Wolsey.

Nathan gave Wolsey a courtesy salute. “I can't say I'm delighted to see you again, Colonel,” Wolsey said, “but I'm damn glad to be talking to someone who is reasonable.” That remains to be seen, Nathan thought. “I. too, had hoped to meet you again under more pleasant circumstances. However, fate has decreed otherwise.”

“I rather think General Grant and his army had more to do with it than fate,” Wolsey said drily. “Be that as it may, it is, as General Grant's note said, time to halt the bloodshed. What does he propose?”

“Unconditional surrender,” said Nathan and saw Wolsey wince. “Unacceptable,” Wolsey said. “We must negotiate an honorable settlement.”

“Consider your position, General. You have scant food and little ammunition. You are outnumbered and surrounded, with no relief available from anywhere in the hemisphere. Soon your men will be pounded to pieces just like the men you saved at London would have been had they continued their folly. Surrender and save lives, sir.”

“At London you did not hold the Canadians prisoner,” Wolsey said in rebuttal. “I am not proposing that we be released, but surely we can come to some accommodation regarding parole and exchange.”

“Too much blood has been spilled for there to be complete absolution. Surrender, and both you and your men will be treated honorably. Continue the fighting and confront destruction. As to parole or exchange, that is for our governments to work out. However, as we now hold and will hold many more British soldiers than you do Americans, exchange is not a likely option under any circumstances. The possibility of parole for senior officers is an open item.”

“Will it be possible for my soldiers to be imprisoned in Canada?” Wolsey asked. “There are rumors of terrible conditions in Union prisons.”

“Unfortunately, the rumors are true, although I hasten to add that they are just as miserable, if not more so, in Confederate prisons. This is not to justify it. Simply put, neither side expected the war to last this long or to be so all-encompassing. We are paying for that miscalculation. Therefore, I am empowered to tell you that your soldiers will be held in American-occupied Canada, where they can receive sustenance and moral support from the local population.”

That it also relieved Grant and the U.S. government of the responsibility of feeding so large a host was a factor in the decision. It almost didn't matter if any of the imprisoned British tried to escape. Where would they go? A few might be hidden by British sympathizers, but the nearest British army base would be hundreds of miles away. Grant had even suggested that the British be quartered in Sarnia, which was even farther away from Ottawa.

“Please agree that we will not be guarded by the Irish.”

Nathan almost laughed, then thought better of it. As jailers, the Irish would take a fearful vengeance. “They will be kept away from your men. They are far more interested in fighting you English than in guarding prisoners.”

“I have no choice but to accept your proposal,” Wolsey said. “As before, you are totally right in everything you say. Please continue the truce while we arrange the particulars of disarmament and so forth.”

“Agreed,” said Nathan. He knew full well that the time would be spent by the British in destroying what supplies and equipment they didn't want the Americans to get. “Tell me, Colonel, where did you get the warships?”

Nathan saw no point in hiding what was already common knowledge in the States. 'They are the steamers that transported Grant's army across the Detroit River to Windsor. Immediately after, they were sent to Cleveland, where they were wrapped in iron plating or railroad tracks that were heated and bent to sheath the ships. They were modeled on the 'Pook Turtles' designed by an engineer named Edmond Pook. They drafted only six feet fully loaded, which meant there was plenty of room in the Welland, which, by the way, you people did not destroy. I suppose we should thank you.”

In the haste of the retreat, no one had given a moment's thought to blowing up the locks and the mechanism of the Welland. The Americans could have repaired it in due course, but that would have taken time. Then another thought chilled Wolsey. The Rideau Canal connecting Kingston with Ottawa, and thence to Montreal, was five feet deep. Might a lighter Pook Turtle make it through to those cities?

“Do you know what galls me the most Colonel Hunter?”

“No.'^:

“That this will be trumpeted by your country as just as big a victory as Saratoga or Yorktown. Even worse,” he sighed, “they may be right.”