The loss of his own sensitive military documents to the British,
the news of Fort Macinac's capture, and the inability of his troops to secure a safe supply route for Detroit had clearly
shaken Hull's resolve to act.
Hull had been extremely confident when he invaded Sandwich, but the
American Commander hesitated over the following weeks. He decided not to attack Amherstburg until there was "an absolute certainty
of success.” He worried that his proclamation promising no quarter for Canadians who fight alongside the Natives was
too aggressive; the statement could backfire and seal a grisly fate for Detroit if the fort were to be overrun. His officers
pleaded with him to push on and confront the British and First Nations at Fort Malden. Hull's confidence melted away, however,
and he announced a retreat to Detroit on August 7. Hull returned to the fort with a near-mutinous army and more fears than
ever.
Hull failed to secure a promise of neutrality from Tecumseh and his
Native alliance; this was a crushing blow. Native attacks had prevented his troops from bringing much-needed supplies up from
the River Raisin. Gory reports streamed in from survivors who had witnessed the stealth and ferocity of Tecumseh's forces.
These stories rattled all the Americans, and perhaps Hull most of all. The recent news of Fort Mackinacs's surrender convinced
him that the Natives from the northern Great Lakes would soon descend to join in the imminent attack on Detroit.
Hull's lack of confidence was not entirely of his own doing. He had
pleaded for extra men and money from Secretary of War Henry Dearborn, but had been consistently turned down. More significantly,
Hull had not received the promised support from American forces elsewhere in the form of offensive strikes at Niagara and
Kingston. This was the original American plan at the outset of war; calculated to strain the modest British defenses along
the border. Dearborn failed to initiate the attacks. This lack of competence within the American war administration was an
issue that would receive no mention when Hull was later faced his court martial for the loss of Detroit. In fact, the proceeding
was presided over by none other than Dearborn himself.
Many of Hull's subordinates later said that they were defeated before
the battle had even begun. Hull refused to initiate any action whatsoever. At one point he could have blown a solitary British
gunboat out of the water with his 28 guns, but held off. The day of the attack, Hull refused to return fire even as the British
cannon were killing people within the fort. The sight of the destruction rendered him almost catatonic. The only thought that
seems to have made sense to his muddled mind was to immediately stop the advance of danger. He could do this by simply waving
a white flag. The only decision he made that day was the one to surrender.
While the volunteers, and the 1,600 Ohio and Michigan militia were
paroled home, Hull and his 600 regulars were shipped off to Quebec. More American men died on this voyage than during the
ill-fated campaign.
Hull's reputation was disparaged throughout America; the tidal wave
of blame and frustration for the unsuccessful beginning of the war fell around his neck. He was reviled by the American troops
and brought before a court martial on charges of treason and cowardice. After three months of trials, he was finally found
guilty of cowardice and sentenced to be shot.
Taking into consideration Hull's age and his participation in the
Revolutionary War, President Madison pardoned him. Hull spent the remainder of his days defending his action on that
fateful summer’s day in much the same way he expressed it immediately after his surrender: "I have done what my conscience
directed. I have saved Detroit and the Territory from the horrors of an Indian massacre."