stood up the Lake with a strong north-east wind, keeping along Grand Island, upon which their attention doubtless was fastened by the intelligence which they had received; but it was a singular negligence thus to run to leeward with a fair wind, without thorough scouting on both hands.  The consequence was that the American flotilla was not discovered until Valcour Island, which is from one hundred and twenty to one hundred and eighty feet high throughout its two miles of length, was so far passed that the attack had to be made from the south,—­from leeward.

When the British were first made out, Arnold’s second in command, Waterbury, urged that in view of the enemy’s superiority the flotilla should get under way at once, and fight them “on a retreat in the main lake;” the harbour being disadvantageous “to fight a number so much superior, and the enemy being able to surround us on every side, we lying between an island and the main.”  Waterbury’s advice evidently found its origin in that fruitful source of military errors of design, which reckons the preservation of a force first of objects, making the results of its action secondary.  With sounder judgment, Arnold decided to hold on.  A retreat before square-rigged sailing vessels having a fair wind, by a heterogeneous force like his own, of unequal speeds and batteries, could result only in disaster.  Concerted fire and successful escape were alike improbable; and besides, escape, if feasible, was but throwing up the game.  Better trust to a steady, well-ordered position, developing the utmost fire.  If the enemy discovered him, and came in by the northern entrance, there was a five-foot knoll in mid-channel which might fetch the biggest of them up; if, as proved to be the case, the island should be passed, and the attack should be made from leeward, it probably would be partial and in disorder, as also happened.  The correctness of Arnold’s decision not to chance a retreat was shown in the retreat of two days later.

Valcour is on the west side of the Lake, about three quarters of a mile from the main; but a peninsula projecting from the island at mid-length narrows this interval to a half-mile.  From the accounts, it is clear that the American flotilla lay south of this peninsula.  Arnold therefore had a reasonable hope that it might be passed undetected.  Writing to Gates, the Commander-in-Chief at Ticonderoga, he said:  “There is a good harbour, and if the enemy venture up the Lake it will be impossible for them to take advantage of our situation.  If we succeed in our attack upon them, it will be impossible for any to escape.  If we are worsted, our retreat is open and free.  In case of wind, which generally blows fresh at this season, our craft will make good weather, while theirs cannot keep the Lake.”  It is apparent from this, written three weeks before the battle, that he then was not expecting a force materially different from his own.  Later, he describes his position as being “in a small bay on the west side of the island, as near together as possible, and in such a form that few vessels can attack us at the same time, and those will be exposed to the fire of the whole fleet.”  Though he unfortunately gives no details, he evidently had sound tactical ideas.  The formation of the anchored vessels is described by the British officers as a half-moon.