THE STORY OF

ISAAC BROCK

HERO, DEFENDER AND SAVIOUR OF

UPPER CANADA

1812

BY

WALTER R. NURSEY

 "By his unrivalled skill, by great And veteran service to the state, By worth adored, He stood, in high dignity, The proudest knight of chivalry, Knight of the Sword. " --_Coplas de Manrique. _

TORONTO:

WILLIAM BRIGGS

1908

Copyright, Canada, 1908, by WALTER R. NURSEY. 

[Illustration: _Frontispiece_ PORTRAIT OF MAJOR-GENERALSIR ISAAC BROCK]

A WORD TO THE READER

That Isaac Brock is entitled to rank as the foremost defender of theflag Western Canada has ever seen, is a statement which no one familiarwith history can deny. Brock fought and won out when the odds were allagainst him. 

At a time when almost every British soldier was busy fighting Napoleonin Europe, upon General Brock fell the responsibility of upholdingBritain's honour in America. He was "the man behind the gun"--theundismayed man--when the integrity of British America was threatened bya determined enemy. 

His success can be measured by the fact that it is only since the war of1812-14 that the British flag has been properly respected in the westernhemisphere. It is also a fact that after the capture of Detroit theUnion Jack became more firmly rooted in the affections of the Canadianpeople than ever. 

It must not be forgotten that the capture of this stronghold was almostas far-reaching in its ultimate effect as the victory of Wolfe on thePlains of Abraham, and was fraught with little, if any, less import toCanada. 

What with the timidity of Prevost, and the tactical blunders of bothhimself and Sheaffe, the immediate influence upon the enemy of thevictories at Detroit and Queenston was almost nullified. Had Brocksurvived Queenston, or even had his fixed, militant policy been allowedto prevail from the first, it is safe to say there would have been noarmistice, no placating of a clever, intriguing foe, and no two years'prolongation of the war. Had the capitulation of Detroit, the crushingdefeat at Queenston, and the wholesale desertion of Wadsworth's cowardlylegions at Lewiston, been followed up by the British with relentlessassault "all along the line"--before the enemy had time to recover hisgrip--then our hero's feasible plan, which he had pleaded with Prevostto permit, namely, to sweep the Niagara frontier and destroy Sackett'sHarbor--the key to American naval supremacy of the lakes--could, thereis no good reason to doubt, have been carried out. The purpose of thislittle book is not, however, to deal in surmises. 

The story of Sir Isaac Brock's life should convey to the youth of Canadaa significance similar to that which the bugle-call of the trumpeter, sounding the advance, conveys to the soldier in the ranks. Reiterationof Brock's deeds should help to develop a better appreciation of hiswork, a truer conception of his heroism, a wiser understanding of hissacrifice. 

Many a famous man owes a debt of inspiration to some other great lifethat went before him. Not until every boy in Canada is thoroughlyfamiliar with "Master Isaac's" achievements will he be qualified toexclaim with the Indian warrior, Tecumseh, "THIS IS A MAN. "

 W. R. N. 

Toronto, October, 1908. 

 NOTE. --Of the hundred and more books and documents consulted in a search for facts I would register my special obligations to Tupper's "Life of Brock"; Auchinleck's "History of the War of 1812-14"; Cruikshank's "Documentary History, " and Richardson's "War of 1812" (edited by Casselman). 

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

 I. OUR HERO'S HOME--GUERNSEY 11

 II. SCHOOL AND PASTIMES 16

 III. FROM ENSIGN TO COLONEL 21

 IV. EGMONT-OP-ZEE AND COPENHAGEN 27

 V. BROCK IN CANADA 36

 VI. BRIDLE-ROAD, BATTEAU AND CANOE 40

 VII. MUTINY AND DESERTION 47

 VIII. FRANCE, THE UNITED STATES AND CANADA 52

 IX. FUR-TRADERS AND HABITANTS 55

 X. THE MASSACRE AT MACKINAW 59

 XI. LITTLE YORK, NIAGARA, AMHERSTBURG 64

 XII. MAJOR-GENERAL BROCK, GOVERNOR OF UPPER CANADA 72

 XIII. THE WAR CLOUD 75

 XIV. THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA DECLARES WAR 80

 XV. BROCK ACCEPTS HULL'S CHALLENGE 87

 XVI. "EN AVANT, DETROIT!" 92

 XVII. OUR HERO MEETS TECUMSEH 96

 XVIII. AN INDIAN POW-WOW 100

 XIX. THE ATTACK ON DETROIT 105

 XX. BROCK'S VICTORY 109

 XXI. CHAGRIN IN THE UNITED STATES 112

 XXII. PREVOST'S ARMISTICE 117

 XXIII. "HERO, DEFENDER, SAVIOUR" 121

 XXIV. BROCK'S LAST COUNCIL 128

 XXV. THE MIDNIGHT GALLOP 135

 XXVI. THE ATTACK ON THE REDAN 140

 XXVII. VAN RENSSELAER'S CAMP 144

XXVIII. A FOREIGN FLAG FLIES ON THE REDAN 147

 XXIX. THE BATTLE OF QUEENSTON HEIGHTS 152

 XXX. THE DEATH OF ISAAC BROCK 156

 SUPPLEMENT--

 AFTER BROCK'S DEATH 161

 SUBSEQUENT EVENTS OF THE CAMPAIGN OF 1812 165

 THE CAMPAIGN OF 1813 167

 THE CAMPAIGN OF 1814 171

 WHAT OF CANADA? 173

 APPENDIX 175

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

 PAGE

PORTRAIT OF MAJOR-GENERAL SIR ISAAC BROCK _Frontispiece_

"VIEW OF ST. PETER'S PORT, GUERNSEY, 18 x 6" 11

NAVY HALL, REMNANT OF THE OLD "RED BARRACKS, " NIAGARA, 1797 27

PORTRAIT OF COLONEL JAMES FITZGIBBON 32

VIEW OF QUEENSTON ROAD, ABOUT 1824 40

RUINS OF OLD POWDER MAGAZINE, FORT GEORGE 52

BROCK'S COCKED HAT 64

BUTLER'S BARRACKS (OFFICERS' QUARTERS), NIAGARA COMMON 75

OUR HERO MEETS TECUMSEH. "THIS IS A MAN!" 96

LIEUT. -COLONEL JOHN MACDONELL 109

VIEW OF QUEENSTON HEIGHTS AND BROCK'S MONUMENT 117

"PORTRAIT OF MAJOR-GENERAL BROCK, 18 X 6" 121

POWDER MAGAZINE, FORT GEORGE, NIAGARA 128

BROCK'S MIDNIGHT GALLOP 135

BATTLE OF QUEENSTON HEIGHTS. From an old Print 140

DEATH OF ISAAC BROCK 156

BROCK'S COAT, WORN AT QUEENSTON HEIGHTS 159

BATTLE OF QUEENSTON. From an old Sketch 161

PLAN OF BATTLE OF QUEENSTON 163

TAKING OF NIAGARA, MAY 27TH, 1813. From an old Print 170

CENOTAPH, QUEENSTON HEIGHTS 172

BROCK'S MONUMENT 174

 NOTE. --For full description of above illustrations, see Appendix, page 175. 

THE STORY OF ISAAC BROCK

[Illustration: "VIEW OF ST. PETER'S PORT, GUERNSEY, 18 x 6"]

CHAPTER I. 

OUR HERO'S HOME--GUERNSEY. 

Off the coast of Brittany, where the Bay of Biscay fights the whitehorses of the North Sea, the Island of Guernsey rides at anchor. Itsblack and yellow, red and purple coast-line, summer and winter, is awashwith surf, burying the protecting reefs in a smother of foam. Betweenthese drowned ridges of despair, which warn the toilers of the sea of anintention to engulf them, tongues of ocean pierce the grim chasms of thecliffs. 

Between this and the sister island of Alderney the teeth of the Casquetscradle the skeleton of many a stout ship, while above the level of thesea the amethyst peaks of Sark rise like phantom bergs. In the sunlightthe rainbow-coloured slopes of Le Gouffre jut upwards a jumble of glory. Exposed to the full fury of an Atlantic gale, these islands arewell-nigh obliterated in drench. From where the red gables cluster onthe heights of Fort George, which overhang the harbour, to the thicketsof Jerbourg, valley and plain, at the time we write of, were a gorgeouscarpet of anemones, daffodils, primroses and poppies. 

These are tumultuous latitudes. Sudden hurricanes, with theconcentrated force of the German Ocean behind them, soon scourge the seainto a whirlpool and extinguish every landmark in a pall of gray. Forcenturies tumult and action have been other names for the ChannelIslands. It is no wonder that the inhabitants partake of the nature oftheir surroundings. Contact with the elements produces a love forcombat. As this little book is largely a record of strife, and of one ofGuernsey's greatest fighting sons, it may be well to recall the effortsthat preceded the birth of our hero and influenced his career, andthrough which Guernsey retained its liberties. 

For centuries Guernsey had been whipped into strife. From the raid uponher independence by David Bruce, the exiled King of Scotland, early in1300, on through the centuries up to the seventeenth, piping times ofpeace were few and far between. The resources of the island led tofrequent invasions from France, but while fighting and resistance didnot impair the loyalty of the islanders, it nourished a love of freedom, and of hostility to any enemy who had the effrontery to assail it. As arule the sojourn of these invaders was brief. When sore pressed in apitched battle on the plateau above St. Peter's Port, the inhabitantswould retreat behind the buttresses of Castle Cornet, when, as in theinvasion by Charles V. Of France, the fortress proving impregnable, thebesiegers would collect their belongings and sail away. 

In the fourteenth century Henry VI. Of England, in consideration of ared rose as annual rental, conveyed the entire group to the Duke ofWarwick. But strange privileges were from time to time extended to theseaudacious people. Queen Elizabeth proclaimed the islands a world'ssanctuary, and threw open the ports as free harbours of refuge in timeof war. She authorized protection to "a distance on the ocean as far asthe eye of man could reach. " This act of grace was cancelled by Georgethe Third, who regarded it as a premium on piracy. In Cromwell's timeAdmiral Blake had been instructed to raise the siege of Castle Cornet. He brought its commander to his senses, but only after nine years ofassault, and not before 30, 000 cannon-balls had been hurled into thetown. 

Late in the fourteenth century, when the English were driven out ofFrance, not a few of those deported, who had the fighting propensitywell developed, made haste for the Channel Islands, where rare chancesoffered to handle an arquebus for the King. Among those who soughtrefuge in Guernsey there landed, not far from the Lion's Rock at Cobo, an English knight, Sir Hugh Brock, lately the keeper of the Castle ofDerval in Brittany, a man "stout of figure and valiant of heart. " Thisharbour of refuge was St. Peter's Port. 

 "Within a long recess there lies a bay, An island shades it from the rolling sea, And forms a port. "

The islet that broke the Atlantic rollers was Castle Cornet. Sir HughBrock, or Badger in the ancient Saxon time--an apt name for a tenaciousfighter--shook hands with fate. He espied the rocky cape of St. Jerbourg, and ofttimes from its summit he would shape bold plans for thefuture, the maturing of which meant much to those of his race destinedto follow. 

The commercial growth of the Channel Islands has been divided into fiveperiods, those of fishing, knitting (the age of the garments known as"jerseys" and "guernseys"), privateering, smuggling, and agriculture andcommerce. To the third period belong these records. The prosperity ofthe islands was greatest from the middle of the seventeenth century upto the overthrow of Napoleon at Waterloo and the close of Canada'ssuccessful fight against invasion in 1815. During this period thebuilding of ships for the North Atlantic and Newfoundland trade openednew highways for commerce, but the greatest factor in this developmentwas the "reputable business" of privateering, which must not beconfounded either with buccaneering or yard-arm piracy. It was onlypermitted under regular letters of marque, was ranked as an honorableoccupation, and those bold spirits, the wild "beggars of the sea"--whopreferred the cutlass and a roving commission in high latitudes toploughing up the cowslips in the Guernsey valleys, or knitting stripedshirts at home--were recognized as good fighting men and acceptableenemies. 

Trade in the islands, consequent upon the smuggling that followed andthe building of many ships, produced much wealth, creating a class ofnewly rich and with it some "social disruption. "

Notable in the "exclusive set, " not only on account of his athleticfigure and handsome face, but for his winning manners and ability todance, though but a boy, was Isaac Brock. Isaac--a distant descendant ofbold Sir Hugh--was the eighth son of John Brock, formerly a midshipmanin the Royal Navy, a man of much talent and, like his son, of greatactivity. Brock, the father, did not enjoy the fruit of his industrylong, for in 1777, in his 49th year, he died in Brittany, leaving afamily of fourteen children. Of ten sons, Isaac, destined to become "thehero and defender of Upper Canada, " was then a flaxen-haired boy ofeight. 

Anno Domini 1769 will remain a memorable one in the history of theempire. Napoleon, the conqueror of Europe, and Wellington, the conquerorof Napoleon, were both sons of 1769. This same year Elizabeth de Lisle, wife of John Brock, of St. Peter's Port, bore him his eighth son, theIsaac referred to, also ordained to become "a man of destiny. " Isaac'sfuture domain was that greater, though then but little known, dominionbeyond the seas, Canada--a territory of imperial extent, whose resourcesat that time came within the range of few men's understanding. IsaacBrock, as has been shown, came of good fighting stock, was of cleanrepute and connected with most of the families of high degree on theIsland. The de Beauvoirs, Saumarez, de Lisles, Le Marchants, Careys, Tuppers and many others distinguished in arms or diplomacy, were hiskith and kin. His mind saturated with the stories of the deeds of hisancestors, and possessed of a spirit of adventure developed by constantcontact with soldiers and sailors, it was but natural that he becamecast in a fighting mould and that "to be a soldier" was the height ofhis ambition. 

Perhaps Isaac Brock's chief charm, which he retained in a marked degreein after life--apart from his wonderful thews and sinews, his statureand athletic skill--was his extreme modesty and gentleness. The fine oldmaxim of the child being "father to the man" in his case held good. 

CHAPTER II. 

SCHOOL AND PASTIMES. 

Guernsey abounded in the natural attractions that are dear to the youthof robust body and adventurous nature. Isaac, though he excelled infield sports and was the admiration of his school-fellows, wassufficiently strong within himself to find profit in his own society. Inthe thickets that overlooked Houmet Bay he found solace apart from hiscompanions. There he would recall the stories told him of the prowess ofhis ancestor, William de Beauvoir, that man of great courage, a Jurat ofthe royal court. Even here he did not always escape intruders. Outsidethe harbour of St. Peter's Port, separated by an arm of the sea, rosethe Ortach Rock, between the Casquets and "Aurigny's Isle, " a hauntedspot, once the abode of a sorcerer named Jochmus. To secure quiet hewould frequently visit this isolated place, in spite of the residentdevil, the devil-fish, or the devil-strip of treacherous water which ranbetween. 

He was not ten when, to the amazement of his friends in imitation ofLeander but without the same inducements, he swam the half mile to thereefs of Castle Cornet and back again, through a boiling sea andrip-tides that ran like mill-races. This performance he repeated againand again. For milder amusement he would tramp to the water-lane thatstole through the Moulin Huet, a bower of red roses and perfume, or walkby moonlight to the mystic cromlechs, where the early pagans and thewarlocks and witches of later days flitted round the ruined altars. 

Though Isaac was self-contained and resolute he had a restless spirit. Fearless, without a touch of the braggart, his courage was of thevaliant order, the quality that accompanies a lofty soul in a strongbody. For his constant courtesy and habit of making sacrifices for hisfriends, he was in danger of being canonized by his school-fellows. 

About this time, shortly after his father's death, it was suggested heshould leave the Queen Elizabeth School on the Island and study atSouthampton. Here he tried his best, boy though he was, to live up tothe standard of what he had been told were his obligations as agentleman, acquiring, too, a little book-learning and much every-dayknowledge. 

Isaac's holidays, always spent in his beloved Guernsey, increased thethirst for adventure. The spirit of conquest, the controlling influenceof his after life, grew upon him. Something accomplished, somethingdone, was the daily rule. To scale an impossible cliff with the wings ofcircling sea-fowl beating in his face, to land a big conger eel withoutreceiving a shock, to rescue a partridge from a falcon, to shoot arabbit at fifty paces, to break a wild pony, or even to scan acomplicated line in his syntax--these were achievements, small perhaps, but typical of his desire. His young soul was stirred; the blood coursedin his veins as the sap courses in the trees of the forest in spring;his mind, susceptible to the influences of nature, was strengthened andpurified by these pursuits. 

In the shelter of silent trossach, on wind-swept height, or on wildest, ever-restless sea, he would, as the mood seized him, take his solitaryoutings. These jaunts, he told his mother, gave him time to reflect andresolve. It was not strange that he selected a profession that presentedthe opportunities he craved. 

 * * * * *

England with folded arms was at peace. The Treaty of Versailles hadterminated the disastrous war with America. The independence of the"Thirteen States" had been recognized. The world was drawing a longbreath, filling its fighting lungs, awaiting the death struggle withNapoleon for the supremacy of Europe. Yet the spirit of war lingered inthe air. It even drifted on the breeze across the Channel to Guernsey, and filtered through the trees that crowned the Lion's Rock at Cobo. Itinvaded the valleys of the Petit Bot and stirred the bulrushes in themarshes of Havelet. The pulse of our hero throbbed with the subtleinfection. Not with the brute lust for other men's blood, but with theinstinct of the true patriot to shed, if need be, his own blood tomaintain the right. He would follow the example of his ancestors andfight and die, if duty called him, in defence of king and country. 

The sweet arrogance of youth uplifted him. Earth, air and waterconspired to encourage him. To satisfy this unspoken craving for actionhe would, from his outlook on the Jerbourg crags--where bold Sir Hughhad sat for just such purpose years before--watch the Weymouth luggersmaking bad weather of it beyond the Casquets; or challenge in his ownboat the rip-tides between Sark and Brechou, and the combers that rompedbetween St. Sampson and the Isle of Herm. 

There was no limit to this boy's hardihood and daring. The more furiousthe gale the more congenial the task. Returning from these frequentbaptisms of salt water, his Saxon fairness and Norman freshness aglowwith spray, he would loiter on the beach to talk to the kelp gatherersraking amid the breakers, and to watch the mackerel boats, reefed down, flying to the harbour for shelter. The crayfish in the pools would tempthim, he would try his hand at sand-eeling, or watch the surf men feed adevil-fish to the crabs. Then up the gray benches of the furrowedcliffs, starred with silver lichens and stone-crop, to where ploughmenwere leaving glistening furrows in the big parsnip fields. Then onthrough the tangle of sweet-briar, honeysuckle and wild roses, wherebirds nested in the perfumed foliage, until, the summit reached, surrounded by purple heather and golden gorse, he would look on the seabelow, with Sark, like a "basking whale, burning in the sunset. " Then hewould hurry to tell his mother of the day's exploits, retiring to dreamof strange lands and turbulent scenes, in which the roll of drums androar of cannon seemed never absent. 

With his youthful mind possessed with the exploits of the King'ssoldiers in Europe and America, and influenced by his brother John'sexample--then captain in the 8th Regiment of the line--Isaac pleadedsuccessfully to enter the army. To better prepare for this all-importantstep, and to become proficient in French, a necessary accomplishment, itwas arranged, though he was only fifteen, to place him with aProtestant clergyman in Rotterdam for one year, to complete hiseducation. 

His vacations now were few; his visits to the Island flying ones. Butthe old life still fascinated him. His physique developed as the weeksflew by, and he became more and more a striking personality. This wasdoubly true, for while he remained the champion swimmer, he was also thebest boxer of his class, besides excelling in every other manly sport. In tugs-of-war and "uprooting the gorse" he had no equals, but a senseof his educational deficiencies kept him at his books. 

He had only passed his sixteenth birthday when, one wild March morningin 1785, he was handed an important-looking document. It was a parchmentwith the King's seal attached, his commission of ensign in the 8thRegiment. Isaac at once joined the regimental depot in England. It wasevident that his lack of learning would prove a barrier to promotion. Hefound that much of the leisure hitherto devoted to athletic sports mustbe given to study. Behind "sported oak, " while dust accumulated onboxing-glove and foil--neither the banter of his brother officers norhis love for athletics inducing him to break the resolution--he bent tohis work with a fixity of purpose that augured well for his future. 

In every man's life there are milestones. Isaac Brock's life may fairlybe divided into five periods. When he crossed the threshold of hisGuernsey home and donned the uniform of the King he passed his _first_milestone. 

CHAPTER III. 

FROM ENSIGN TO COLONEL. 

In every young man's career comes a time of probation. During thiscritical period that youth is wise who enters into a truce with hisfeelings. This is the period when influences for good or bad assertthemselves--the parting of the ways. The sign-posts are painted incapitals. 

When Brock buttoned his scarlet tunic and strapped his sword on his hip, as fine a specimen of a clean-bodied, clean-minded youth as ever trodthe turnpike of life, he knew that he was at the cross-roads. The trailbefore him was well blazed, but straight or crooked, rough or smooth, valley or height, it mattered little so long as he kept nourished thebright light of purpose that burned steadily within him. 

Five years of uneventful service, chiefly in England, passed by, and ourhero was celebrating his coming of age. His only inheritance was health, hope and courage. While neither monk nor hermit, he had so far been assteadfast as the Pole Star in respect to his resolutions. He had allowednothing to induce him to break the rules engraved on brass that he hadhimself imposed. His mind had broadened, his spirits ran high, hisconscience told him that he was graduating in the world's universitywith honour. His love for athletics still continued. He had the thews ofa gladiator, and in his Guernsey stockings stood six feet two inches. Add to this an honest countenance, with much gentleness of manner andgreat determination, and you have a faithful picture of Isaac Brock. 

Upon obtaining his lieutenancy he returned to Guernsey, raised anindependent company, and exchanged into the 49th, the Royal Berkshires, then stationed in Barbadoes. He now found himself looking at life undernew conditions. While the beauties of Barbadoes enchanted him, hisduties as a soldier were disappointing. They were limited to drill, dress parade, guard mounting, the erection of new fortifications, andpatrolling the coast for vessels carrying prohibited cargoes. 

Under the terms of a treaty made at Paris in 1773, United States producefor British West Indian ports could only be carried by British subjectsin British ships. Britain's men-of-war were also authorized to seize anyvessel laden with produce for or from any French colony. Brock was asoldier, not a policeman, and coast-guard duties palled upon him. Hisgreat diversion was in calculating the probabilities of invasion by theFrench. In expectation of this, the refortifying of the island was inprogress. The memory of Admiral d'Estaing's visit with his fleet fromToulon, and the capture of St. Vincent, sent a chill through the island. The great victory by the British Admiral Rodney, when he whipped asuperior French fleet to a standstill, was yet to come. Bastions andearthworks grew during the night like mushrooms. While Brock chafedunder restraint, he knew how to improve the opportunity. 

Fishing, shooting sea-fowl, and exploring the interior on horseback, were Brock's chief pastimes. He became a fearless horseman. MountHillaby rose 1, 200 feet above the Caribbean Sea. The very crest of itsalmost impossible pinnacle Brock is said to have ascended on horseback. Between Bridgetown, in Barbadoes, and Kingston, Jamaica, he divided histime, and though monotonous, his life in the Windward Islands was notwholly void of adventure. 

Shortly after joining his regiment at Bridgetown our hero had his firstaffair of honour, an opportunity to display his courage under mosttrying conditions. A certain captain in the 49th was a confirmedduellist, with a reputation of being a dead shot at short range. Restingupon his evil record, this braggart had succeeded in terrorizing thegarrison, and it was soon Brock's turn to be selected for insult. ButIsaac could not be bullied or intimidated. He promptly challenged andwas as promptly accepted. 

The fateful morning arrived. In a lonely spot, palm-sheltered, andwithin sight of the sea breaking upon the coral reefs, principals andseconds met. There was no question in Brock's mind as to his duty--theduello at that time was the recognized court of appeal. If its purposeas originally designed had at times been infamously abused, it was stillthe one and only arbiter through which insults had to be purged and fromwhich, for the "officer and gentleman, " there was no escape. 

Now Isaac, who was several inches taller and much bulkier than thescoundrel who had insulted him, declined to become a shining mark at theregulation twelve paces. He demanded from his fire-eating antagonistthat the duel proceed on equal terms. Whipping out his kerchief, cool asa cucumber, his blue eyes steady and resolute, he insisted that _theyboth fire across it_. The fairness of the proposal staggered the bully. The chances were not sufficiently one-sided. If this plan was acted uponhe might himself be killed. He refused to comply. The code of honour andgarrison approval sustained Brock in his contention, and the refusal ofthe professional killer to fight under even chances was registered inthe mess-room as the act of a coward, and he left the regiment bycompulsion. 

In Jamaica the continued strain of inactivity under which our herofretted told upon him, and he was struck down with fever, his cousin, Henry Brock, lieutenant in the 13th Foot, dying in Kingston of the samepestilence. At this time Isaac had as servant a soldier named Dobson, one of those faithful souls who, true as steel, once installed in theirmaster's affection, remain loyal to the end. To the untiring attentionsof this man Brock owed his life. Deep and mutual respect followed, andthe two became inseparable. Where Brock went, there was Dobson, sharinghis fortune and all the hard knocks of his military campaigns, afellowship ending only with Dobson's death, shortly before his "belovedmaster" gave up his life on Queenston Heights. 

Tropical malaria is hard to shake off. Release from duty was imperative, and as England was now calling for recruits, the War Office summonedBrock, an alluring sample of a soldier, to whom was assigned the task oflicking the fighting country bumpkin--the raw material--into shape. Thishe did, first in England, then in Guernsey and Jersey. A vision of ourhero, glorious in his uniform, was in itself sufficient to ensnare thesenses of any country yokel. It was a militant age. 

When quartered in Guernsey, and from the same heights of Jerbourg wherebut a few years before he was wont to sweep the ocean for belatedfishing smacks, Brock saw his kinsman, Sir James Saumarez, and the whitecanvas of a small squadron, heave in sight from Plymouth Roads. TheBritish sailor had been ordered to ascertain the strength of the Frenchfleet. Saumarez' ships were far slower than those of the enemy, so, feigning the greatest desire to fight, he lured his opponent by a cleverruse. First he closed with him, and then, when his own capture seemedinevitable, hauled his wind, slipped through a maze of reefs by anintricate passage--long familiar to our hero--and found safety off LaVazon, where the Frenchmen dare not follow. 

In June, 1795, Brock purchased his majority, but retained his command ofthe recruits. From toes to finger-tips Isaac was a soldier, bent onmastering every detail of the profession of his choice. A year after thereturn of the 49th to England, on the completion of his 28th year, hebecame by purchase senior lieutenant-colonel of his regiment. Highhonour and rapid promotion, considering that for five out of sevenyears' service he had remained an ensign. He had learned to recognizeopportunity, the earthly captain of a man's fate. 

 "For every day I stand outside your door, And bid you wake and rise to fight and win. "

But Brock's position was no sinecure. The regiment was in a badlydemoralized condition. The laxity of the late commanding officer hadcreated a deplorable state of things. To restore the lost _morale_ ofthe corps was his first duty. The thoroughness of his reforms can bebest understood by quoting the words of the Duke of York, who declaredthat "out of one of the worst regiments in the service Colonel Brock hadmade the 49th one of the best. "

From the Commander-in-Chief of a nation's army to a colonel--not yetthirty--of a marching regiment, this was an exceptional tribute. 

Isaac's persistent endeavours were rapidly bringing their own reward. 

[Illustration: NAVY HALL, REMNANT OF THE OLD "RED BARRACKS, "NIAGARA, 1797]

CHAPTER IV. 

EGMONT-OP-ZEE AND COPENHAGEN. 

Meanwhile the war cloud in Europe was growing apace. Holland had beenforced into an alliance with France. War, no longer a spectre, but agrim monster, stalked the Continent. Everywhere the hostile arts ofBonaparte were rousing the nations. The breezes that had stirred themarshes of Havelet and awakened in Brock a sense of impending danger, now a furious gale, swept the empires. The roll of drums and roar ofcannon that Isaac had listened to in his boyhood dreams were nowchallenging in deadly earnest. The great _reveille_ that was awakeningthe world was followed by the British buglers calling to arms thesoldiers of the King. 

Notwithstanding the aversion of the English prime minister, Pitt, tocommence hostilities, war was unavoidable. One of the twelve battalionsof infantry selected for the front was the 49th. When the orders wereread for the regiment to join the expedition to Holland, wild excitementprevailed in barracks. Active service had come at last. The parting ofBrock with his family was softened by maternal pride in his appearance. 

The tunic of the 49th was scarlet, with short swallow-tails. The rollinglapels were faced with green, the coat being laced with white, with ahigh collar. The shako, which was originally surmounted by whitefeathers with black tips, a distinction for services in the Americanwar of 1776, at Bunker's Hill and Brandywine, was, at Brock's specialrequest, replaced by a black plume. The officers wore their hair turnedup behind and fastened with a black "flash. " The spectacle of MasterIsaac thus arrayed, in all the glory of epaulets and sabretache and thegold braid of a full colonel, reconciled the inhabitants of St. Peter'sPort to his departure. 

By the end of August the first division of the British army, of whichthe 49th was a unit, was aboard the transports in the Zuyder Zee, offthe coast of Holland, and early one morning, under the command of SirRalph Abercrombie, with blare of trumpets and standards flying, theyeffected a landing under the guns of the ships of the line, of which, with frigates and sloops, there were well-nigh sixty. Brock had oftenlistened to the roar of shot and shell in target practice and shamfight, but of a cannonade of artillery, where every shriekingcannon-ball was probably a winged messenger of death, this was his firstexperience. He now learned that in the music of the empty shell ofexperiment and the wicked screech of the missiles of war there was anunpleasant difference. He did not wince, but sternly drew himselftogether, thought of home, begged God's mercy, and awaited the commandto advance with an impatience that was physical pain. 

By four in the afternoon the Hilder Peninsula and its batteries had beentaken, but with a loss to the British of a thousand men. Brock couldscarcely believe that the enemy had retreated. This, however, was merelya taste of war. The second division having arrived, the whole force ofnearly 20, 000 men, under the Duke of York, started to make history. Inthe last days of a stormy September 16, 000 Russian allies reached thescene. The fourth brigade, which included the 49th, was under thecommand of General Moore--Sir John Moore, of Corunna fame. For severalweeks the waiting troops were encamped in the sand-hills without canvasand exposed to biting storms. The capture of the city of Horn withoutresistance hardly prepared our hero and his men for the stout oppositionat the battle of Egmont-op-Zee that followed. 

Brock's brother, Savery, a paymaster to the brigade, though by virtue ofhis calling exempt from field service, insisted on joining the fightingline, acting as aide to Sir Ralph Abercrombie. 

Every record, every line written or in print concerning Brock, fromfirst to last, all prove that the keynote of his success, the rulingimpulse of his life, was promptness and action. So, at Egmont, no soonerdid the bugle sound the advance than he was off with his men like asprinter at the crack of the pistol. Others might follow; he would lead. They were part of the advance guard of a column of 10, 000 men. The enemywas in front in superior numbers, but their weakness lay in underratingthe courage of the British. They had been taught to consider Englishsoldiers the most undisciplined rabble in the world!

This was a factor unknown and unheeded by Brock. All that he knew wasthat an obstacle barred the way. 

 * * * * *

"Steady, the 49th!"

 * * * * *

The loud, clear notes of the leader rang above rasping of scabbards andsuggestive clank of steel. The men straightened. A suppressedexclamation ran along the line and died to a whisper. Whispers fadedinto silence. A fraction of a second, perhaps, and then, high above thestillness, when British and French alike were silently appealing to theGod of battles, over steaming dyke and yellow sand-dunes rose once morein trumpet tones the well-known voice, "Charge, men, and use yourbayonets with resolution!" No rules were followed as to the order ofgoing--the ground, to use Brock's words, was too rough, "like a sea in aheavy storm"--but the dogs of war were let loose. The quarry was at bay. Another instant and the air was split with yells, the clash of nakedsteel and screams of agony. Then cheer upon cheer, as the British sweptirresistibly on, and the enemy, declining to face the glitteringbayonets and unable to resist the impact of the English, wavered, brokeand retreated. 

The shedding of men's blood by man is never an edifying spectacle. Themotive that prompts the attack or repels it, the blind obedience thatentails the sacrifice, the retribution that follows, are more or lessunderstandable. What of the compensation? There may be times when a pureprinciple is at stake and must be upheld despite all hazards, but thereare times when there is no principle at stake whatever. Theseconsiderations, however, have no place in the soldier's manual. They arequestions for the court, not the camp, and cannot be argued on thebattlefield. The soldier is not invited to reason why, though many anunanswerable question by a dying hero has been whispered in thetrenches. 

There was much carnage at Egmont-op-Zee, and many a 49th grenadier "lostthe number of his mess. " Isaac directly after the fight wrote to hisbrothers that "Nothing could exceed the gallantry of his men in thecharge. " To his own wound he referred in his usual breezy and impersonalway. "I got knocked down, " he said, "soon after the enemy began toretreat, but never quitted the field, and returned to my duty in lessthan half an hour. "

We must appeal to his brother Savery for the actual facts. "Isaac waswounded, " said Savery, in reply to a request for particulars, "and hislife was in all probability preserved by the stout cotton handkerchiefwhich, as the air was very cold, he wore over a thick black silk cravat, both of which were perforated by a bullet, and which prevented itentering his neck. The violence of the blow, however, was so great as tostun and dismount him, and his holsters were also shot through. "

That the action had been a hot one can be best judged by the officialreturns. Out of 391 rank and file of the 49th in the field, there were110 casualties--30 killed, 50 wounded and 30 missing. Savery Brockshared the honours with his brother. Oblivious to a hurricane ofbullets, he rode from sand-hill to sand-hill, encouraging the men untilhis truancy was noticed and he was halted by Isaac. "By the Lord Harry, Master Savery, " shouted the colonel, loud as he could pitch his powerfulvoice, as the big paymaster strode by, his horse having been shot underhim, "did I not order you, unless you remained with the General, to staywith your iron chest? Go back, sir, immediately. " To which Saveryanswered, playfully, "Mind your regiment, Master Isaac. You surely wouldnot have me quit the field now. " Of this intrepid brother Isaac wrote, "Nothing could surpass Savery's activity and gallantry. " Another of thewounded at Egmont was Lord Aylmer, afterwards Governor-General ofBritish North America. The loss of the enemy was estimated at 4, 000. Twoweeks later the British troops--while suffering intensely from severeweather--met with a reverse in the field, to which, through amisunderstanding of orders, their Russian allies contributed. The Dukeof York was ordered to evacuate the country. The campaign had resultedin much experience and high honour for Brock. Quick to perceive andlearn, his powers of observation on the field had enriched his mind withlessons in the tactics of war never to be forgotten. 

[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF COLONEL JAMES FITZGIBBON]

In the ranks of the 49th was a young Irishman of superior talents. Brockwas not slow to discover his abilities, and "with a discrimination thathonoured both, " he later appointed this combative privatesergeant-major. Still later he procured him an ensigncy in the 49th, finally appointing him adjutant, promotion that the ability andgallantry of James FitzGibbon, a Canadian veteran of 1812, and the "heroof Beaver Dams" (Adjutant-General of Canada, 1837, and Military Knightof Windsor, 1851), amply justified. 

If Brock was quick to appreciate merit, he was no less so in detectingdefects. The Russian soldiers came in for scathing criticism. The typeat Egmont impressed him most unfavourably. The clumsy Russianfoot-soldier was his special aversion. The accuracy of his criticism hasbeen confirmed by military writers, but this book is not for the purposeof weighing the quality of Russian valour in Holland. Six thousand ofthese Russian allies, the lateness of the season preventing their returnhome, were later quartered for six months in Guernsey. 

While our hero was a severe military critic, he was never an unjust one, neither did he spare his own men. Though not a martinet, which wasforeign to every fibre of his nature, he was a stickler for rigiddiscipline. When the expedition was recalled, he was first quartered inNorwich, and then at the old familiar barracks of St. Helier, in Jersey. On his return to the latter place, in 1800, after leave of absence, hefound that the junior lieutenant-colonel of the 49th--ColonelSheaffe--had incurred the reasonable dislike of the men. The regimentwas drawn up on the sands for morning parade, standing at ease. Incompany with this unpopular officer Brock appeared upon the scene. Hewas greeted with three hearty cheers. The personal honour, however, waslost sight of in the act of disobedience. Rebuking the men severely for"their most unmilitary conduct, " they were marched to quarters andconfined to barracks for a week. He would not, he explained, allowpublic exaltation of himself at the expense of another. 

The next year found our hero in the Baltic Sea, aboard the _Ganges_, detailed for active duty as second in command of the land forces thatunder Lord Nelson were ordered to the attack on Copenhagen. It wasintended that Brock, with the 49th, should lead in storming theTrekroner (Three Crown) battery, in conjunction with five hundredseamen; but the heroic defence by the Danes rendered the attemptimpracticable, and Brock remained on the _Ganges_, an unwillingspectator of bloodshed in which he took no part. Towards the close ofthe engagement--the heaviest pounding match in history--he was on the_Elephant_, Nelson's flagship, and saw the hero of Trafalgar write hiscelebrated letter to the Crown Prince of Denmark. 

As at Egmont, the irrepressible conduct of Savery Brock on the _Ganges_gave our hero much concern. Savery, as a former midshipman, was ofcourse a gunner. While training a quarter-deck gun on the Trekronerbattery his hat was blown from his head and he was knocked down by therush of wind from a grapeshot. Seeing this, Brock exclaimed, "Ah, poorSavery! He is indeed dead. " But, to use his own words, it was only "thehot air from the projectile that had 'floored' him. " Previous to this hehad driven Isaac almost demented by stating his intention of joining thestorming party and sharing his brother's danger. "Is it not enough thatone brother should be killed or drowned?" said Isaac. But Saverypersisted until, at Isaac's request, the commander of the _Ganges_ keptthe paymaster quiet by stratagem. "Master Savery, " said he, "you simply_must_ remain with us. I appoint you captain of the gun. It will amuseyou. "

The loss of the Danes at Copenhagen was placed at 6, 000, includingprisoners. The British killed and wounded numbered 943, more than fellat the Battle of the Nile. Part of this loss is charged to a criminalmisconception of military etiquette. To a line officer who asked wherehis men should be stationed, the captain of the battleship replied, thatas soldiers were no good with big guns, and as the forts were out ofmusket range, he should "send them between decks. " This, said theinfantryman, "would be eternal disgrace. " In deference to this brutalconception of military ethics, the men were drawn up on the gangway and, standing at attention, were allowed to be mowed down by Danishgrapeshot. The 49th, on its return to England from Copenhagen, thoroughly initiated in the cruel cult of war, was ordered toColchester. 

Isaac Brock, with the bay-leaves of distinction on his brow, and hisheart touched but not dismayed at the ferocity of war, had passed the_second_ milestone of his life. 

CHAPTER V. 

BROCK IN CANADA. 

Isaac Brock received with regret his orders to proceed with the 49th toCanada. Europe was still in the clutches of war. Great opportunitiesawaited the soldier of fortune in the struggle waging in the Peninsula. The prospect for military advancement in Canada was not encouraging. America was at peace. Canada was but slowly developing. While herexports of lumber and fish attracted the attention of the Britishmerchant, her great resources were unknown except to the fur trader andthe few United States speculators whose cupidity kept pace with theirknowledge. Though the known sympathy of the United States for France wasregarded as a possible excuse for hostility towards England, as yet thissympathy had found no official utterance, hence the outlook from asoldier's standpoint was far from desirable. Brock's life in the WestIndies had created a distaste for garrison duty. While a past master inthe details of barrack life, his career under arms had created anaversion for the grind of drill and parade. 

Life in the high latitudes of Canada would present a clean-cut contrastto tropical Barbadoes, but it was out of harmony with his ambition, and, judging by his spirits, he might have been embarking for penal servitudeat Botany Bay rather than for the land which was to bring him lastingfame. Even the attentions of the devoted Dobson, who had just filledhis pipe, did not serve to arouse him. Brock's depression wasshort-lived. His optimism and faith banished gloomy thoughts. The shiphad hardly dropped the last headland of the Irish coast when the windsbred in Labrador awoke the Viking strain in him and filled his soul withhope. The swinging seas of this northern ocean revived thoughts of thelong-ago exploits of Sebastian Cabot, the discoverer of Newfoundland, and of his own sea-dog ancestors, those rough-riders of the sea who haddefied the banks of Sable Island and returned to St. Peter's Port withtheir rich cargoes of contraband, looking innocent as kittens, while theship was bursting with fur, fin and feather. So, pipe in mouth, with thefrigate close-hauled, watching her bows splintering the sea into amillion jewels, he left care behind, and thenceforward his busy brainwas forming plans that would soften his exile in that land of chillingpromise he was approaching. 

He had been told to expect magnificent scenery, but was quite unpreparedfor the picture that the Gulf of St. Lawrence unfolded. The Straits ofBelle Isle, the Magdalen Islands, the brazen bosom of the Bay of Chaleurthat had allured Jacques Cartier 265 years before, the might of thenoble river and the glorious vista of the citadel and frowning heightsof Quebec, where Wolfe and Montcalm fell--the ancient Stadacona framedin the sunset--amazed him. A presage of coming conflict crowded hisbrain. 

 * * * * *

"Manfully tell me the truth. "

 * * * * *

Carr, an educated soldier of the 49th, was hesitating. Desertions hadbeen frequent at Quebec, and discipline _must_ be restored. Stepping up, with hand clenched, the officer continued, "Don't lie! Tell the truthlike a man. You know I have ever treated you kindly. " The confession ofintended desertion followed. "Go, then, " said Colonel Brock, --"go andtell your deluded comrades everything that has passed here, and alsothat I will still treat every man of you with kindness, and then you maydesert me if you please. "

During the three years of his command at Montreal, York, Fort George andQuebec, though mutiny was epidemic in both Europe and America, Brock hadlost but one man by desertion. He had won the loyalty of the rank andfile. FitzGibbon said of him that "he created by his judicious praisethe never-failing interest of the men in the ranks. " His accurateknowledge of human nature served him in the graver experiences of lifewhich followed. His stay in Quebec was short. A study of the ancientcitadel and its incomplete fortifications occupied his time. In thesummer of 1803 he was stationed at York, a hamlet carved out of thebackwoods, sustaining a handful of people, but famous as thegathering-place of many wise men. He found that desertions in UpperCanada had become too frequent. The temptations offered by a long lineof frontier easy of access, and the desperate discipline in the army, had led to much brutality in the way of punishments. 

Such were the conditions in Upper Canada when Brock reached York. Shortly after his arrival six men, influenced by an artificer, stole amilitary batteau and started across the lake to Niagara. By midnightBrock, with his trusty sergeant-major and the ever-watchful Dobson, inanother batteau with twelve men, passed out of the western gap in hotpursuit of the defaulters. Though the night was calm the trip wasperilous. Before them stretched a waste of water, but our hero was inhis element. He was living over again his daring visits to the Casquetsthrough the furious seas that raced between St. Sampson and the Isle ofHerm. 

The crew was divided into "watches, " six taking an hour's "breather"while the other six rowed, hour and hour about, alternately rowing andresting. When the wind served they hoisted their big square sail, ourhero at the tiller. On this occasion there was little wind, and "MasterIsaac, " for example's sake, and "to keep my biceps and fore-arm in goodcondition"--as he told the sergeant-major--took his regular spells atthe oar. On arriving at Fort George, Colonel Hunter, Governor andCommandant, rebuked him for rashly venturing across the lake in an openboat, "a risk, " he said, "never before undertaken. "[1] The expedition, however, was successful, for the deserters were surprised on theAmerican shore and made prisoners. 

FOOTNOTE:

[1] Lake Ontario was crossed from Toronto to the wharf at the mouth ofthe Niagara River in an ordinary double-scull, lap-strakepleasure-skiff, by the writer and another Argonaut--HerbertBartlett--one unruly morning in the summer of 1872. Though a risky row, and not previously attempted, it was not regarded as a remarkable featby the performers. 

[Illustration: VIEW OF QUEENSTON ROAD, ABOUT 1824]

CHAPTER VI. 

BRIDLE-ROAD, BATTEAU AND CANOE. 

The means for transit through Canada at this time was most primitive, and not the least of the questions which occupied Brock's thoughts wasthe important one of transportation. The lack of facilities for movinglarge bodies of men and supplies, in event of war, was as apparent aswas the lack of vessels of force on lake and river. 

Between Quebec and Montreal, a distance of sixty leagues, the overlandjourney was divided into twenty-four stages, requiring four relays ofhorse-caleches in summer and horse-carioles in winter. The time occupiedwas three days, and the rate for travellers twenty-five cents a league. This rough road--which entailed numerous ferries in summer at the Ottawaand at Lake St. Francis, except for a break of fifty miles--led byCornwall and Prescott to Kingston, along which route United EmpireLoyalists twenty years before had established themselves. 

A few years prior to Brock's arrival, Governor Simcoe, with the men ofthe Queen's Rangers, had cut a roadway through the dense forest betweenPrescott and Burlington, at the head of Lake Ontario. From Ancaster, thethen western limit of the U. E. Loyalists' settlement, this roadtraversed the picturesque region that surrounded the Mohawk village onthe Grand River, where Joseph Brant, the famous warrior, was encampedwith his Six Nation Indians. From this point it penetrated the rollinglands of the western peninsula, to the La Trenche (the Thames River), from whence Lake St. Clair and the Detroit outlet to the great lakes wasreached by water. Another military road, also built by Simcoe, followedthe old Indian trail through thirty-three miles of forest from York toLake Simcoe. This shorter route to Lake Superior enabled the North-WestFur Company--established by Frobisher and McTavish, of Montreal, in1776--to avoid canoeing up the Ottawa and its tortuous tributaries. Thebatteaux were brought up the St. Lawrence, breaking bulk at certain"carrying places, " then under sail up Lake Ontario to York. From herethe cargoes were hauled by horses over Yonge's military road to LakeSimcoe, thence by river and stormy Lake Huron to Fort Michilimackinac, Great Turtle Island--the Mackinaw of to-day--at the head of LakeMichigan. By this route fifty dollars was saved on every ton of freightfrom Ottawa to the middle north. At Mackinaw the goods were reshipped bybark canoe to the still remoter regions in the further West, whereSpanish pedlars on the southern tributaries of the lower Mississippitraded with the Akamsea Indians in British goods distributed fromMackinaw. 

The records of these trips through a wilderness of forest and stream, with their exhilarating hardships, had a singular fascination for IsaacBrock. It was not long before he had won, with his conquering ways androbust manhood, the allegiance of the big-hearted fur-traders inMontreal. Their wild legends of the great fur country rang in his ears, and his receptive mind was soon stored with the exploits of Radisson andGroseillers, Joliette, Marquette, and other famous pathfinders, withwhose exploits a century and a half before, aided by his fluency inFrench, he became wonderfully familiar. 

He found the evolution of the Canadian highway a subject of absorbinginterest. From his Caughnawaga guides he learned how the tracks made bylynx and beaver, rabbit and wolverine, wolf and red deer--invariably thesafest and firmest ways--were in turn naturally followed by Indianvoyageur and fur-trader, until the blazed trail became the bridle-roadfor the pack-horse of the pioneer. This, as the white settler driftedin, became the winter-road; then, as civilization stifled the call ofthe wild, there uprose from swamp and muskeg the crude corduroy, expanding by degrees into the half-graded highway, until the turnpikeand toll-bar, with its despotic keeper, exacted its tribute fromprogress. This was the prelude to a still more amazing transformation, for the day soon came, though not in our hero's time, when the drummingof the partridge was silenced by the choo-choo of the locomotive as itshrieked through forest and beaver-meadow on its way to vaster tracks, further and further west, disclosing and leaving in its trail an empireof undreamed-of fertility. Then the redman, disturbed in his solitudes, was confronted with civilization, and had to accept the terms ofconquest or seek another sanctuary in the greater wilderness beyond. 

The navigation of the lakes and rivers at this time was limited to threetypes of vessel, the "snow, " a three-master with a try-sail abaft themainmast, the schooner, the batteau and the birch canoe, and, in closelyland-locked waters, the horse ferry. The Durham boat, a batteau on alarger scale with false keel, had yet to be introduced. The bark canoe, which for certain purposes has never been improved upon--not evenexcepting the cedar-built canoe--varied in size from nine to thirtyfeet, or, in the language of the voyageur, from one and a half to fivefathoms. These canoes had capacity for a crew of from one to thirty men, or a cargo of seventy "pieces" of ninety pounds each, equal to threetons, exclusive of provisions for nine paddlers. In these arks ofsafety, manned by Indians or _metis_ (half-breeds), the fur-trader wouldleave Lachine, on the St. Lawrence, ascend the Ottawa, descend theFrench, cross Lake Huron--the Lake Orleans of Nicollet and Hennepin--andfind no rest from drench or riffle until he reached Mackinaw, or moredistant Fort Dearborn (now Chicago), on the Skunk River, at the head ofLake Michigan, 1, 450 miles by water from Quebec. 

The batteaux--great, open, flat-bottomed boats, forty feet long andeight feet beam, pointed at stem and stern--were not unlike the Yorkboats used in Lord Wolseley's Red River expedition in 1870, and wouldcarry five tons of cargo. Rigged with a movable mast stepped almostamid-ships, and a big lug-sail, these greyhounds of the lakes were, forpassengers in our hero's time, often the only means of water transportbetween Quebec and Little York. As important factors in the transport ofsoldiers and munitions in the war of 1812, they deserve description. 

While sailing well when before the wind, they yet, with their defectiverig and keelless bottoms, carrying no weather helm, made little headwaywith the wind close abeam. On one occasion Isaac Brock left Lachine witha brigade of five batteaux, so that all hands could unite in making theportages. At the Cascades, the Milles Roches and the Cedars, three-quarters of the cargo had to be portaged by the packmen. At timesthese lightened boats were poled or tracked through the broken water, towed by the men, from such foothold as the rocky banks afforded, bymeans of a long lariat tied to the boat's bow, with loops over eachtrackman's shoulder, one man steering with a long sweep. When thistreadmill work was impossible, owing to too steep banks, and where nobatteau locks existed, the crew hauled the boats across the portage on askidway of small rolling logs, and, so journeying, Prescott was reached. Here, the wind being favourable, lug-sails were hoisted and Brock'sstrange fleet started for Kingston, reaching it after twelve days' toilfrom Lachine, then coasting further along Lake Ontario to Little York(Toronto). When wind failed, the long oars were used, the men risingfrom the thwarts to pull, standing. Thus, alternately sitting andrising, pulling in unison, the light-hearted voyageurs would break intoone of their wild French chants, quaint with catching refrain, in whichour hero soon learned to join. 

At Prescott Brock sometimes took the Government schooner, paying twoguineas for a trip, which might last a week, or caught one of the small"two-stickers" that carried freight between Kingston and Queenston. Ifmuch pressed for time, the batteau would be exchanged for a caleche--thestage-coach was as yet only a dream--and he would resign himself to arude jolting over the colonization road through the forest that flankedthe rugged northern shore of Lake Ontario. 

These trips were a never-failing source of surprise and profit. Theskill of the canoemen, the strength and endurance of the packmen, excited his admiration. What wonderful raw material! Given drill anddiscipline, what might not be achieved on the frontier with suchcraftsmen! The muscles, all whipcord, of these rugged Canadians, part_coureur de bois_, part scout, amazed him. One thing was not so evidentas he could have wished. Their love seemed to be more for race andlanguage, home and wilderness, than for King and country. Perhaps, as hesaid, if the safety of their homes were threatened, they would developpatriotism of the highest type. 

But, after all, as to kings, "Who, " they naively asked him, "was theirking? Surely they must be under two flags and two kings. Napoleon orGeorge? _Que voulez vous?_"

As their hearts seemed to be as stout as their limbs, they would, hereflected, be unconquerable, these careless children of waste places. While Brock thus communed, he watched. There was little to choosebetween them--Narcisse, Baptiste, Louis, Jacques, Pierre--all strong asbuffalo, all agile as catamounts. 

They would lift the "pieces" from the dripping canoe and land them onthe slippery rock. A minute later and Narcisse perhaps would appear, abit bent, to keep balanced a bag of flour, a chest of tea, a caddy oftobacco and sundry packages of sugar or shot that made up the loadresting on his shoulders where body and nape of neck joined. This loadwas supported and held together by a broad moose-hide band--atump-line--strapped across his forehead, his upraised hands grasping thenarrowing moose-hide stretched on either side of his lowered head, between ear and shoulder. Brock would watch these packmen as, thushandicapped with a load weighing from two to five hundred pounds, theyset out across the rough portage, singing, and at a dog trot, followingeach other in quick succession. There was rivalry, of course, dulyencouraged by Brock with a promise of tobacco to the first man in, butit was all good-natured competition, the last man chanting his laughingcanzonet as loudly as the first. 

Our hero, with his grand physique and cleverness, was not long inmastering the tricks of the carriers. He soon learned to build up a loadand adjust a tump-line, after which practice made the carrying of a packalmost twice his own weight a not extraordinary performance. 

These trips afforded Brock an opportunity to study Indian character. Helearned much from the packman and voyageur that was destined to be ofgreat value to him in his career on the western frontier, among theoutposts of civilization. 

Little escaped his notice. His faculties were sharpened by contact withthese children of the wilds, whose only class-room was the forest, theironly teacher, nature. As the crushed blade or broken twig were ofdeepest import to the Indian scout, so no incident of his life was nowtoo trivial for Brock to dismiss as of no importance. 

CHAPTER VII. 

MUTINY AND DESERTION. 

Brock could hardly reconcile the degree of punishment inflicted upon thesoldiers, the poorly paid defenders of the Empire, with their casualoffences. While he rebelled against the brutalities of some officers, hewas powerless to prevent them. The sentencing powers conferred bycourt-martial were at that time beyond belief. A captain and twosubalterns could order 999 lashes with a "cat" steeped in brine. It ison record that on one occasion a soldier was sentenced to 1, 500 lashesfor "marauding. " And there were other modes of torture. This was closeupon the heels of a period when even the slightest breaches of the civillaw were punished out of all proportion to the offence. While insistingon the strictest discipline, Brock always tempered justice with mercy. Few men better realized the value of a pleasant word or had in suchdegree the rare tact that permitted familiarity without killing respect. 

A terrible incident occurred in the summer of 1803 which tested allBrock's fortitude and conception of duty. A conspiracy to mutiny wasdiscovered at Fort George on the Niagara River. The methods of thecommanding officer had exasperated the men until they planned mutiny ona large scale. This included the murder of Colonel Sheaffe and theincarceration of the other officers. A threatening remark by a soldierof the 49th was overheard. He was arrested and put in irons. Aconfession by another soldier implicated a well-known sergeant, and amessage was sent to York begging Brock's immediate presence. 

Our hero landed from the schooner alone. It was dinner hour. Thebarrack-square, as Brock crossed it to the guard-house, was deserted. Incharge of the guard he found two of the suspected ringleaders. The guardpresented arms. "Sergeant, " said the colonel of towering frame andcommanding aspect, "come here. Lay down your pike. " The order waspromptly complied with. "Take off your sword and sash and lay them downalso. " This was done. "Corporal O'Brien, " said the colonel, addressingthe sergeant's brother-conspirator, "bring a pair of handcuffs, put themon this sergeant, lock him up in a cell, and bring me the key. " This, too, was done. "Now, corporal, you come here; lay down your arms, takeoff your accoutrements, and lay them down also. " He was obeyed. Turningto the right man of the guard, "Come here, you grenadier. Bring a pairof handcuffs and put them on this corporal, lock him up in another cell, and bring me the key. " When this was done, turning to the astoundeddrummer, our hero said, "Drummer, beat to arms. "

The garrison was aroused. First to rush out was Lieutenant Williams, sword in hand. "Williams!" said the Colonel, "go instantly and secureRock"--a former sergeant, recently reduced. "If he hesitates to obey, even for one second, cut him down. " Up the stairs flew Williams, callingto Rock to come down. "Yes, sir, " answered Rock, "when I take my arms. ""You must come without them, " said Williams. "Oh, I must have my arms, sir, " and as Rock stretched out his hand to seize his musket in thearm-rack, Williams shouted, "If you lay one finger on your musket Iwill cut you down, " at the same time drawing his sabre. "Now, go downbefore me. " Rock obeyed, was placed in irons, and within half an hourClark, O'Brien, and nine other mutineers were embarked for York on theschooner. 

What a picture rises before us. The mid-day sun, the glitteringbarrack-square, the scarlet and white tunics and polished side-arms ofthe frightened soldiers, with Brock, the embodiment of power and sternjustice, towering above the shrinking culprits. Expiation of the offencehad yet to follow. The appetite of the law had to be appeased. The trialtook place at Quebec. Four mutineers and three deserters were condemnedto death, and in the presence of the entire garrison were executed. Thedetails of this are best unwritten. Through a shocking blunder, thefiring party discharged their carbines when fifty yards distant, insteadof advancing to within eight yards of the victims. The harrowing scenerent Brock's heart. That the men who had fought so bravely under him atEgmont and laughed at the carnage at Copenhagen should end their livesin this manner was inexpressibly sad. After reading the account of theexecution of their comrades to the men on parade at Fort George, Brockadded, "Since I have had the honour to wear the British uniform I havenever felt grief like this. " The prisoners publicly declared that hadthey continued under our hero's command they would have escaped theirdoom, "being the victims of unruly passions inflamed by vexatiousauthority. "

When Brock assumed command every possible privilege was extended to thetroops at Fort George. For every request, however trivial, he knew therewas some reason. His mind was big enough to trade in trifles. 

In view of these desertions, the prospect of hostilities between Canadaand the United States became a momentous one. By close study of eventsin France and America and intercourse with prominent United Statescitizens, Brock detected the signs that precede trouble. 

But the grave question of desertion and the war-cloud on the horizoncould not occupy our hero's attention to the exclusion of other demandsupon his time. Canada's growing importance was attracting manytravellers from over-seas. Notable among these was Thomas Moore, thebrilliant Irish poet, who was our hero's guest at Fort George for twoweeks in the summer of 1803. Every attraction that the peninsulapresented was taxed for his entertainment. Of these diversions the onewhich probably left the most lasting impression on the versatile son ofErin was a gathering of the Tuscarora warriors, under Chief Brant, atthe Indian encampment on the Grand River. 

"Here, " wrote Moore, in one of his celebrated epistles, "the Mohawksreceived us in all their ancient costumes. The young men ran races forour amusement, and gave an exhibition game of ball, while the old menand the women sat in groups under the surrounding forest trees. Thescene altogether was as beautiful as it was new to me. To Colonel Brock, in command of the fort, I am particularly indebted for his manykindnesses during the fortnight I remained with him. "

It was while Moore was paddling down the St. Lawrence with hisCaughnawaga voyageurs, after leaving Niagara--where he saw the fountainsof the great deep broken up--that he composed his celebrated boat-song:

 "Faintly as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time. Soon as the woods on shore look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn. Row, brothers, row! the stream runs fast, The rapids are near, and the daylight's past!"

In the fall of 1805 our hero was gazetted full colonel, and returned toEngland on leave. While he had lost none of the buoyancy of his youth, he was daily realizing the fullness of his responsibilities. 

For the better defence of Canada, he submitted to the Duke of York, theCommander-in-Chief, a suggestion for the forming of a veteran battalion. He quoted the case of the U. E. Loyalists, who after the Revolutionarywar, had been granted small tracts in Upper Canada; contrasting theirperfect conduct with the practices of some of the settlers ten yearslater, whose loyalty, from his own observation, would not stand thetest. Our hero, who was warmly thanked by the Duke for his zeal, was nowregarded as a person to be reckoned with. His abilities and charm ofmanner had won him a reputation at the Horse Guards. 

He returned to Guernsey to receive the congratulations of those brothers"who loved him so dearly, " but had not time to tell the graphic story ofhis sojourn in Canada or revisit the haunts of his boyhood, for newsarrived from the United States of so warlike a character that hereturned before his leave expired. He overtook at Cork the _LadySaumarez_, a well-manned Guernsey privateer, armed with letters ofmarque, and bound for Quebec. Leaving London on the 26th of June, 1806, he set sail for Canada, never to return to those to whom he had soendeared himself by his splendid qualities. 

[Illustration: RUINS OF OLD POWDER MAGAZINE, FORT GEORGE]

CHAPTER VIII. 

FRANCE, THE UNITED STATES AND CANADA. 

Shortly after his return to Quebec, Isaac Brock succeeded to the commandof the troops in both Upper and Lower Canada, with the pay and allowanceof a brigadier. 

Though no overt act had been committed against Canada by the UnitedStates, relations were strained, and he found much to occupy his time. His humanity stirred, he set about erecting hospitals, reorganized thecommissariat department, and engaged in an unpleasant dispute withPresident Dunn, the civil administrator of Lower Canada, regarding thefortifications of the Citadel. To-day deep in plans for mobilizing themilitia and the formation of a Scotch volunteer corps of Glengarrysettlers; to-morrow devising the best way of utilizing an Indian forcein the event of war. In June, 1807, the affair between the Britishgunboat _Leopard_ and the American frigate _Chesapeake_ occurred. Theformer boarded the latter in search of deserters, and on beingchallenged, gave the _Chesapeake_ a broadside. While the _Leopard_ wasclearly in the wrong, the United States Government rejected every offerof reparation made by Britain. Then came retaliation. Frenchvessels--though France was at war with Britain--were actually allowed bythe United States, a neutral power, full freedom of its harbours. Theships of Britain, a power at peace with the United States of America, were refused the same privilege. 

For a proper understanding of the position we must unroll a page ofhistory. Napoleon, though he crushed the Prussians at Jena, could notefface the memory of his own humiliation at Trafalgar. His ears tingled. He was waiting to deliver a blow that would equalize the destruction ofhis fleet by Nelson. Though Britain remained mistress of the seas, surely, thought the "little corporal, " a way could be found to humbleher. If her sources of food supply, for instance, could be cut off, "thewings of her war-ships would be clipped. "

To this end Napoleon issued an arrogant proclamation, which was offar-reaching effect. It authorized the destruction of all British goodsand all colonial produce shipped to any European port by a Britishvessel. It allowed the seizure by France of all ships, of whatevernation, which had even _called_ at a British port. To this the UnitedStates raised no objection, though it was in violation of the world'slaw in respect to nations which were at peace with each other. TheUnited States' President evidently believed that British resentment atNapoleon's decree would sooner or later provide the United States withan excuse for a disagreement with Britain. He was not mistaken. Britainat once announced that she in her turn would prohibit the ships of othernations visiting French ports until they had first called at a Britishport. But two wrongs do not make a right. England also, being short ofseamen by desertion, insisted that she had the right to search forBritish seamen on American vessels. 

This was a questionable proceeding, and not always carried out in themost amiable manner, as the _Chesapeake_ incident proves, andoccasionally led to seizing American seamen, native-born citizens of theUnited States, in mistake for British-born deserters. 

Meanwhile Brock found "the military and the people of Quebec divided byopposing elements of dissatisfaction. " His call for one thousand men fortwo months to complete the defences of the Citadel was met by theProvincial Government with what was practically a refusal. He persistedin his purpose, and despite drawbacks which would have deterred a lessdominant nature, he erected a battery, mounting eight thirty-six poundguns, raised upon a cavalier bastion, in the centre of the Citadel, soas to command the opposite heights of Point Levis. 

Alive to the probability of invasion, and to the defenceless state ofthe Canadian frontier and the extreme apathy of the Quebec Government, Colonel Brock warned the War Office. He stated that, as the means at hisdisposal were quite inadequate to oppose an enemy in the field, with aprovincial frontier of 500 miles, he would perforce confine himself tothe defence of the city of Quebec. The Lower Canadians, willing toundergo training, had formed themselves into corps of cavalry, artilleryand infantry, at no expense to the Government, but the Government gavethem no encouragement. 

This was the state of affairs in Quebec when Lieutenant-General SirJames Craig arrived to take office as Governor-General of the BritishProvinces in North America as well as Commander of the Forces. Brocksoon became the _confidant_ of the new administrator, who was not slowto observe the exceptional capacity of our hero. The day came all tooquickly for the Governor when occasion arose for the presence of astrong man to take command in Montreal, and with great reluctance he hadto call upon Isaac Brock to assume the office. 

CHAPTER IX. 

FUR-TRADERS AND HABITANTS. 

Montreal--the Mount Royal of Jacques Cartier--was then in the heyday ofits pioneer glory. It was the seat of government of the North-WestCompany, which exercised feudal sway over an empire of wilderness, lakeand prairie, and whose title to monopoly was challenged only by thepowerful Hudson's Bay Company. Since 1670 this older syndicate ofadventurers had held the destinies of the great lone land in the fartherNorth-West, its fruitful plains and pathless forests, in the hollow ofits hand. Later, when the two companies amalgamated, their jointoperations extended from Alaska to Rupert's Land, from Oregon to theSandwich Islands, from Vancouver to Labrador, an empire embracing anarea of 4, 500, 000 square miles. 

At Montreal Brock lived with these merchant princes on terms of closeintimacy. He was sensible enough, as a man of the world, to enjoy thecreature comforts of life. The blazing log-fire, with its glow andcrackle, in contrast to the blizzard that raged outside; the dim-lightedsplendour of spacious dining-hall, with hewn rafters and savage trophiesof the explorers; the polished oak floor and carved ceiling, hung withrare fur and gaudy feathers, appealed to him. 

The rubber of whist over, came the fragrant _perfecto_--these tradersransacked the world for their tobacco--and Brock, under the influence ofthe soothing weed, would charm these wild vagrants into unlocking someof the strange secrets of the wilderness. From these usually silent butsometimes garrulous merchants he acquired during the long winter nightsa fund of facts that greatly influenced his future actions. 

Being superseded at Montreal by General Drummond, he did not relish areturn to Quebec. Separation from the 49th meant actual pain, but, as hesaid, "Soldiers must accustom themselves to frequent movements, and asthey have no choice, it often happens they are placed in situationslittle agreeing with their wishes. " His regrets were lessened by hispromotion to the rank of brigadier-general. But he prayed for activeservice, still trying to secure a staff appointment in Portugal, andawaited the result of his brother Savery's efforts, hoping he might yetbe ordered to join "the best disciplined army that ever left England. "

"Your Excellency, " he said to the Governor-General, "I _must_ see activeservice, or had much better quit the army, for I can look for noadvantage if I remain buried in inaction in this remote corner of theearth, without the least mention ever likely being made of me. "

Unsuspected by our hero, fate in his case was only "marking time. "

Day after day Brock saw British ships weigh anchor at Quebec withCanadian timber for the building of English vessels of war. Theimportance of these Canadian provinces to Great Britain awoke in himdreams of a federation of all the colonies. Cargoes of timber, thatwould require more than 400 vessels to transport, were then lying on thebeaches of the St. Lawrence. "Bonaparte, " he wrote, "coveted these vastcolonial areas, and desired to repossess them. "

Brock's mind was busy trying to solve these problems. "A small Frenchforce of 5, 000 men, " he told the Governor, "could most assuredly conquerthe Province of Quebec. In the event of French invasion, would thevolatile Lower Canadian people, in spite of all their privileges, remainloyal?" A certain class of _habitant_ argued that Napoleon, who was sureto conquer Europe, would of course seize the Canadas, encouraged by theUnited States. "Would Englishmen, " asked Brock, "if positions werereversed, be any more impatient to escape from possible British rulethan were French Canadians from the possible rule of France?"

"Blood, my good FitzGibbon, " he declared to his _protégé_, "is thickerthan water. You cannot expect to get men to change their nature, or thetraditions of their race, through an act of parliament at twenty-fourhours' notice. Old thoughts and habits die hard. "

Though Brock's perceptive faculties were well developed, his forecasts, built upon the evidences of opposition among certain Lower Canadians, happily proved only in part correct. Later, when his plan of campaignwas menaced by still greater disaffection in Upper Canada, he found hehad not reckoned on the influence of his own example, which, added tohis power of purpose, "disconcerted the disloyal. " In proof of this factDetroit and Queenston Heights were splendid examples. 

It was this spirit of unrest among the people of Quebec that moved SirJames Craig to keep Brock within easy reach until the growing discord inUpper Canada called for the presence of a man of tact and resolution, one to whom all things seemed possible--and Brock knew no such word as"impossible. " On one occasion the "faithful sergeant-major" had venturedto declare that a certain order was "impossible. " "'Impossible!'"repeated Brock, "nothing should be 'impossible' to a soldier. The word'impossible' must not be found in a soldier's vocabulary. "

CHAPTER X. 

THE MASSACRE AT MACKINAW. 

It was while stationed in Montreal that our hero met Alexander Henry, ex-fur-trader and adventurer and _coureur de bois_--then a merchant andKing's auctioneer--a notable personage and leader in many a wild exploitin the far West, an old though virile man after Isaac's own heart. 

From Henry he learned much of the Indian wars in the West, and thestrategic value of various points on the frontier, possession of whichin the event of war he foresaw would be worth a king's ransom. Not leastwere details respecting Michilimackinac, the Mackinaw already referredto. Nearly half a century before, Henry, a native of New Jersey, ofEnglish parents--his ambition fired by tales of the fabulous fortunes tobe made in the fur trade--obtained from the commandant at Montreal apermit to proceed west as a trader. He outfitted at Albany, and thefollowing summer set out for Mackinaw. 

Meanwhile the Indian allies, under control of the great Pontiac, werefighting immigration and civilization. Between Fort Pitt--Pittsburgh--and the Fox River, in Wisconsin, the home of the Sacs and Foxes, theyhad captured nine out of thirteen military posts, and were secretlyplanning the downfall of Fort Mackinaw. This was regarded as animpregnable post and vulnerable only through strategy--in Indianparlance another name for duplicity. Fort Mackinaw, as Brock well knew, was the most important trading _entrepôt_ west of Montreal. It served aterritory extending from the Missouri in the west to the farKissaskatchewan in the north. 

On Henry's arrival his friendship was sought by an Indian chief, Wawatam. Between these two men a remarkable attachment developed. Theybecame brothers by mutual adoption. At this time the fort was garrisonedby ninety British regulars. One day, outside the walls on thesurrounding plateau, several hundred savages were encamped, ostensiblyfor purposes of trade, some of them killing time by playing the Indiangame of ball--the _baggatiway_ of the red-man, _la jeu de la crosse_ ofthe voyageur. Henry, acting upon a veiled warning by Wawatam, suggestedto the officer in command extra precaution. 

"I told him, " said he, while Brock drank in every word, "that Indiantreachery was proverbial. " Now this recital was of the deepest interestto our hero, for Mackinaw, then in the possession of the United States, held the key to the Michigan frontier and control of the upper lakes. While the huge log fire that roared in the chimney cast light and shadowon polished wall and the oak beams of the big dining-hall, Brock puffedaway at his huge _partiga_, weighing every word that fell from thebearded lips of the trader. 

"Major Errington, " continued Henry, "while thanking me, laughed at myforebodings. Then Wawatam urged me, as his adopted brother, to departfor Sault Ste. Marie. But I delayed and once more sought Errington, whostill ridiculed my fears. While I was yet expostulating with him weheard the louder shouts of the Indians. They had rushed through the fortgateway into the enclosure within the palisades in pursuit of a lostball. This was but a ruse to gain admittance, for in a moment thelaughter and shouts changed to wild yells and warwhoops. The guard wasoverpowered in a flash, and in the attack that followed almost theentire garrison was tomahawked and scalped. "

"Ah!" said Brock, "so British lethargy and self-complaisance succumbedto Indian duplicity. "

Then his thoughts turned to Niagara. He saw the open portals of FortGeorge, and Tuscarora youths playing the Indian game of ball in themeadows of the Mohawk village. 

"Those who escaped massacre at Mackinaw, " said Henry, refilling hisstone pipe and resuming his story, "were preserved for a worse fate. Pontiac's allies--and you, Colonel, know something of these matters fromthe tales told you by the officers of the North-West Company--entered ona carnival of blood. From a garret, where a Pawnee Indian woman hadsecreted me, I saw the captured soldiers tomahawked and scalped, andsome butchered like so many cattle, just as required for the cannibalfeast that followed. "

"Tortured?" interrogated Brock. 

"Tortured!" repeated Henry. "Why, the diabolical devices that those menresorted to to inflict acute physical agony were inconceivable--unutterable, Colonel. " He paused. .. . "After all, no worse, perhaps, thanthe tortures that have been inflicted by civilized fanatics in Europe. "

There was silence for a moment. Both men were buried deep in thought, the one living in the past, the other striving to forecast the future. 

"Through the intercession of Wennway, another friendly Indian, "continued Henry, "my life was spared. Preparations were made for mysecret departure. As I shoved my canoe into the water, _en voyage_ forWagoshene, the prayers of Wawatam rang in my ears as, standing on theyellow beach with outstretched arms, he invoked the _Gitche Manitou_, the Great Spirit, to conduct me in safety to the wigwams of my people. "

"Surely, Master Henry, " commented Isaac Brock, "with all the latentqualities for good that seem to underlie the outward ferocity of someredmen, firmness and kindness are alone needed to convert them intofaithful friends. "

"An Indian, or Indians collectively, " said Henry, pausing before heanswered, --"I speak from personal experience only--are faithful so longas you keep absolute good faith with them. In this particular they areno different from white people; but never deceive them, even in trifles, and never subject them to ridicule. Then, if you treat them withconsideration, you can reasonably depend upon their individual loyalty. They expect a lot of attention. Yes! an Indian is naturally grateful, probably far more so than the ordinary white man, and seldom forgets akindness. Should you come into closer contact with the redman, Colonel, as I have a presentiment you will before long, never forget that anIndian, by right of his mode of life, is deeply suspicious and painfullysensitive. He has a keen sense of humour, however, and is quick todiscern and laugh at the weak points of others, which, until youunderstand his language, you will be slow to suspect. On the other hand, he won't stand being laughed at himself or placed in a foolish position. For that matter, who can? Occasionally you will meet a savage withstrangely high principles. Among the redskins there is a proportion ofgood and bad, as there is in all races, but less crime, under normalconditions, than there is among the whites. So, summing up his vices andvirtues, the North American Indian, allowing for heredity andsurroundings, differs little from ourselves. "

"They are brave, " interrupted Brock. 

"Oh, yes, " said Henry, "splendidly reckless of life. The courage of thefatalist I should say. You see, they are so constantly on the war-paththat fighting is a compulsory pastime. "

"Still, " said Brock, "with what daring they fight for their homes. "

"True, Colonel, " retorted Henry, "but when it comes to fighting forhome, a hummingbird will defend its nest. Their peculiar traits arelargely the result of a nomadic life and tribal strife, hence, theirduplicity. Superstition influences them greatly, as it does all savageraces. In one respect they are at least superior to some of our ownpeople--I refer to their treatment of their children. Theirlovingkindness is pathetic. Contact with civilization, as you maydiscover, develops at first all their bad qualities, for they are aptimitators, so when the pagan Indian meets a trader without aconscience--and there are some, you know--why, he is not slow to adoptthe bad Christian's methods. "

[Illustration: BROCK'S COCKED HAT]

CHAPTER XI. 

LITTLE YORK, NIAGARA, AMHERSTBURG. 

In common with most great men, Brock found distraction in trifles. Forweeks prior to leaving Quebec all kinds of gayety prevailed. A visitfrom Governor Gore of Upper Canada, and the arrival of the fleet fromGuernsey and two frigates from Portsmouth, gave a fillip to society. Races, water-parties and country picnics were the order of the day. Ourhero's contribution consisted of a banquet and grand ball. He had hisown troubles, however, that even the versatile Dobson could notovercome, and he roundly scolded his brother Irving for not sending hima new cocked hat. [2]

"That cocked hat, " he said, "has not been received; a most distressingcircumstance, as from the enormity of my head I find the utmostdifficulty in getting a substitute. "

His departure for York weighed upon him. In Quebec he had the most"delightful garden imaginable, with abundance of melons and other goodthings"--these, together with his new bastions and forts, he had todesert. Being somewhat of a philosopher, he said that since fate decreedthe best portion of his life was to be wasted in inaction, and asPresident Jefferson, though he wanted war, was afraid to declare it, hesupposed he should have to be pleased with the prospect of movingupwards. 

Brock had been but a few weeks at Fort George--a "most lonesome place, "as compared with Quebec, Montreal, Kingston, or even Little York, fromwhich latter place he was cut off by forty miles of lake, or more than ahundred miles of dense forest and bridgeless streams--when he decidedupon a flying trip to Detroit, where, during the French _régime_, theadventurous Cadillac had landed in 1701. He would inspect the westernlimit of the frontier now under his care and obtain at first hand aknowledge of the peninsula. "For, " as he remarked to Glegg, his aide, "if I can read the signs aright, the two nations are rushing headlonginto a military conflict. "

Two routes were open to him, one overland, the other land and water. Hechose the latter. A vast quantity of freight now reached Queenston fromKingston. Vessels of over fifty tons sailed up the river, bearingmerchandise for the North-West Company. Salt pork from Ireland and flourfrom London, Britain being the real base of supply--the remoteNorth-West looking to Niagara for food and clothing--the return cargoesbeing furs and grain. To portage these goods around Niagara Falls keptfifty or more farmers' waggons busy every day during the summer. A teamof horses or oxen could haul twenty "pieces, " of one hundred weighteach, for a load. The entire length of the portage from Lake Ontario toLake Erie was practically a street, full of all the bustle and activitythat a scattered country population of 12, 000 conferred upon it. Twochurches, twenty stores, a printing house, six taverns and a scholasticacademy supplied the varied wants of Niagara's 500 citizens whooverfilled its one hundred dwellings. 

From Lake Ontario, Newark, as it had been called, presented an invitingappearance. The brick-and-stone court-house and jail and brightlypainted Indian council-house and cottages rose in strong contrastagainst the green forest. On the river bank was Navy Hall, a log retreatfor seamen, and on Mississaga (Black Snake) Point a stone lighthouseflashed its red signal of hope to belated mariners. Nearer the lakeshore, in isolated dignity across a mile of common, stood Fort George, adilapidated structure with wooden palisades and bastions. Half-acre lotsin the village were given gratis by the Government to anyone who wouldbuild, and eight acres outside for inclosures, besides a large"commonty" for the use of the people. A quite pretentious wharf linedthe river, and from this, on any summer afternoon, a string of soldiersand idle citizens might be seen--among whom was Dobson--casting hook andtroll for bass, trout, pickerel and herring, with which the riverswarmed. On one occasion Brock helped to haul up a seine net in whichwere counted 1, 008 whitefish of an average weight of two pounds, 6, 000being netted in one day. 

Side-wheel ferries, driven by horse-power, plied between the river'smouth and the Queenston landing. The paddle-wheels of these were opendouble-spoke affairs, without any circular rim. A stage-coach also ranbetween Queenston and Fort Erie, the first in Upper Canada. For onedollar the passenger could travel twenty-five miles. 

At Fort Erie, at the head of the Niagara River, Brock embarked inmid-August in a government schooner. He wished to familiarize himselfwith the upper water-ways. He made the long trip from Quebec to York, and thence to Niagara, Amherstburg, Detroit, Sandwich and returnoverland to Fort George, within two months--record time. Dobsonaccompanied his master. Brock was silent as to his impressions, butadmitted he was convinced that the water route for a military expeditionwas the only practical one, and that Mackinaw, held by the UnitedStates, was the portal and key to the western frontier in case ofinvasion. He crossed overland through the "bad woods" and open plains tothe Point of Pines, where batteaux and canoes awaited him. From thencehe proceeded along the north shore of Lake Erie until abreast of theMiami, a confluent of the Ohio River, on the south shore, then turnednorthward up the Detroit River, twenty-five miles farther, reachingAmherstburg--called Malden by the Americans--250 miles from Fort Erie. Here, after consulting with Colonel St. George, he inspected the batteryat Sandwich, and with little ceremony visited Detroit--the old militarypost of Pontchartrain--on the opposite side of the river, laternotorious as an emporium for "rum, tomahawks and gunpowder. " FromAmherstburg, a small village with an uncompleted fort and shipyard, hesent messengers to the remote post of St. Joseph, an island, fifty-fivemiles from Mackinaw, below Sault Ste. Marie, and started homewardsoverland. 

In returning, he skirted the great tributary marshes, alive withwater-fowl of every description, whose gabble and flapping wings couldbe heard at a long distance. He camped in the vast hardwood forests thatcovered the western point of the peninsula that extends west from LakeOntario to the river connecting Lake Huron with Lake Erie. He shot bigbustards and wild turkeys in the bush, where wolves and deer were asthick as rabbits in a warren, and tramped the uplands, teeming withquail and prairie chicken. Continuing by Delaware and the Governmentroad at Oxford on the Thames, and by the "Long Woods" over the BurfordPlains to Brant's Ford, he reached the Grand River, and then by Ancasterand the head of the lake to Burlington, when he followed the LakeOntario southern shore road to Niagara. 

Many of the settlers whom he met were from the Eastern States. Thesewere the original Loyalists or their descendants, patriots to the core. Other more recent arrivals--perhaps two-thirds of the whole--came fromPennsylvania, New York and New Jersey, attracted by the fertility of thesoil and freedom from taxation, or to escape militia service. Theselatter he quickly realized were not the class to rely upon in event ofwar, but he gave no public sign of distrust. It was from the pick of thefirst-mentioned stalwarts that Brock formed his loyal Canadian militia, his gallant supporters in the war of 1812, who made a reputation atDetroit and Queenston that will never die. 

He was more than ever sensible of the resources of the country. Thisglimpse of the west enamoured him. To his "beloved brothers"--our heroalways thus addressed them--he described it as a "delightful country, far exceeding anything I have seen on this continent. " The extent ofthe Great Lakes amazed him, as did their fish. From these deep cisternshe had seen the Indian fishermen take whitefish, the _ahtikameg_(deer-of-the-water), twenty pounds in weight; maskinonge--_matchi-kenonje_, the great pike--more than twice that size, andsturgeon that weighed two hundred pounds and over, and in suchquantities that he hesitated to tell his experiences on his return. 

Henry's stories of five hundred whitefish taken with a scoop net at therapids of Sault Ste. Marie in two hours were no longer questioned. Thesize of the red-fleshed land-locked trout (the quail-of-the-water), ofpickerel and bass, astounded him. His travels had broadened his views. The chatter of his Iroquois and Algonquin friends was now easier ofinterpretation. The riddles of the wilderness were more easily read. Henow realized how possible it was, in this continent of unsurveyedimmensity, to journey for weeks, after leaving the white man's domainhundreds of miles behind, and then reach only the rim of another kingdomof even far greater fertility. He also realized that beyond theselaughing lands lay a rugged world of desolation, bounded in turn by therasping ice-floes of the Arctic. 

If Brock's mind had expanded, so had his body. He was, as he expressedit, as "hard as nails. " The close of 1811 found "Master Isaac" a grandspecimen of manhood. Inclined to be a little portly, he was stillathletic. His face, though a trifle stern, had grown more attractive, because of the benevolent look now stamped upon it. He was still fairand florid, with a broad forehead, and eyes though somewhat small, yetfull and of a grayish blue, a charming smile and splendid white teeth. Always the same kindly gentleman and always a soldier. His life at FortGeorge had been one of great loneliness. He read much and rapidly, andwould memorize passages from the books that had left the deepestimpression. History, civil and military, especially ancient authors, washis choice, and maps his weakness. Over these, with his devoted aides, he would pore late into the night, until he knew the country almost aswell as his friend the Surveyor-General. For variety he feasted upon therobust beauties of Pope's "Homer, " ever regretting he never had a master"to guide and encourage him in his tastes. "

With Lieutenant-Governor Gore, formerly a soldier in Guernsey, our herowas on intimate terms. When the grind of duty let him, he would travel"the worst road in the country--fit only for an Indian mail-carrier--inorder to mix in the society of York. " He periodically returned thesehospitalities by a grand ball at Niagara--always the event of theseason. Brock, while fond of women's society, preferred brain to beauty. Had his old Guernsey friends been present on these occasions they wouldnot have recognized in the soldier, resplendent in a general's uniform, now dancing a mazurka, the handsome stripling who only a few years sincehad waltzed his way into the hearts of all the women of St. Peter'sPort. 

The unrest of the Indians at Amherstburg troubled him. He had seen overeight hundred in camp there, receiving rations for a month while waitingpresents of blankets, powder and shot from King George. They askedBritish support if they took the warpath against the Americans--theLong-knives--_Gitchi-mokohmahn_, their sworn enemies. Tecumseh, aShawanese chief, had demanded from the United States the restoration ofviolated rights. This demand had not been complied with. The positionwas critical. Great tact was required to retain the friendship of theIndians, while not complying with their request. 

In Lower Canada there was still discord among the French Canadians. TheGovernor, Sir James Craig, in a dying condition, relinquished office. Inanswer to Brock's application for leave, still hoping for a staffappointment in Portugal, the Governor-General implored him to remain. 

"I must, " he told him, "leave the country in the best state of securityI can; your presence is needed here. I am sending you as a mark of mysincere regard my favourite horse, Alfred. " This was a high-bred animal, and our hero's charger in the war that followed. 

It was not, however, until war was regarded as unavoidable, and notuntil after he was promoted to be a major-general and appointedPresident and Administrator of Upper Canada, as successor to GovernorGore, that Isaac Brock became reconciled to life in Canada, and with setpurpose assumed the duties of his high calling. 

 * * * * *

Our hero had passed his _third_ milestone. 

FOOTNOTE:

[2] Miss Carnochan, as the Curator of the Niagara Historical Society thecustodian of many relics of the war of 1812, has in her keeping thisidentical cocked hat. It arrived "shortly after Brock's death, and wasgiven by his nephew to Mr. George Ball, near whose residence the 49thwas stationed. The hat measures twenty-four inches inside, and was usedat the funeral obsequies of 1824 and 1853, when many old soldiersrequested, and were permitted, to try it on. " The usage that the cockedhat then received has not improved its appearance. 

CHAPTER XII. 

MAJOR-GENERAL BROCK, GOVERNOR OF UPPER CANADA. 

The appointment of Brock--with his exceptional military attainments--tothe chief command in Upper Canada, at the point of greatest danger, wasa rare piece of good fortune for the colony. Of the American militaryleaders, Generals Howe, Dearborn and Wadsworth were all examples of acommon standard; even Sir George Prevost, the new Governor-General ofCanada and Commander-in-Chief, was tuned in a minor key. 

Isaac Brock was the man of the hour. His star was in the ascendant. Queen Victoria's father, the Duke of Kent, was anxious to meet thesoldier whose despatches had stirred the War Office. The Duke of Yorkwas ready to give him a brigade under Wellington, while the Governor ofJamaica, the Duke of Manchester, then touring Canada, begged Brock, whomhe looked upon as a "universal provider, " to equip him with canoes andguides for a western pilgrimage. If Brock's promotion brought himdistinction it also brought him work--Executive Councils, court-martials, reorganization of militia, reconstruction of the ruinedforts on the Niagara frontier, the building of gunboats, the making ofroads. Never idle. To-day he was inspecting a camp of the 49th at ThreeRivers, near Montreal; next week at Fort Erie. Ever busy, ever buoyant. Whether perusing documents, scouring the muddy roads at Queenston, surveying the boundaries of the dreaded Black Swamp, or visiting thepoints between Fort George and Vrooman's battery on his slashing graycharger, he had a smile and cheery word for everyone. As for Dobson, hisprofound awe at his master's progress was only equalled by his devotion, that increased with the illness that threatened his life; while thefaithful sergeant-major, now Captain FitzGibbon, in command of a companyof the 49th, was reflecting great credit on his patron. But no matterwhat the tax on his time, Isaac never neglected the "beloved brothers. "

In New York there had been financial failures. Brock predicted adreadful crash, and had so written to his brother Irving, who withWilliam had a bank in London. He hoped they "had withheld theirconfidence in public stocks. " Providence ruled otherwise. While Isaac inthe solitude of his quarters was writing this warning, the banking housein London, whose vessels in the Baltic Sea had been seized byBonaparte's privateers, closed its doors. The news reached him on hisbirthday. He learned that a private advance made to him by William forthe purchase of his commissions had been entered in the bank's books bymistake. He was a debtor to the extent of Ł3, 000. 

Brock rose to the occasion. He proved himself not only a soldier but, best of all, a just man with the highest sense of personal honour. Hisdistress was all for his brothers. He would sell his commission, turnover his income as governor and surrender everything, if by doing so hecould save the fortunes of his family. Anything that not only the lawbut the right might demand. This failure impaired the former goodfellowship between William and Irving Brock. Isaac wrote Irving, beseeching him to repair the breach. "Hang the world, " said he; "it isnot worth a thought. Be generous, and find silent comfort in being so. Oh, my dear brother, forget the past and let us all unite in soothingthe grief of one of the best hearts that heaven ever formed, whose wishwas to place us all in affluence. Could tears restore him he would behappy. "

But Isaac was not permitted to know that reconciliation followed hisprayers. While William and Irving were shaking hands, but before theyhad even heard of the capture of Detroit, Isaac, unknown to them, was atthat moment lying cold in death within the cavalier bastion at FortGeorge. 

Little York was now Brock's headquarters. He built dockyards to shelterHis Majesty's navy, which consisted of two small vessels! He planned newParliament Buildings and an arsenal, prepared township maps showingroads and trails, fords and bridges, all of which latter were in ashocking condition. At York the timber and brushwood was so dense thattravel between the garrison and town was actually by water. His mindmade up that war with the United States was inevitable, he wasconfronted with crucial questions demanding instant solution. Chief ofthese was the defence of the frontier, 1, 300 miles in length, whichentailed repairs of the boundary forts, the raising of a reliablemilitia, the increase of the regular troops, the building of moregunboats, and the solving of the Indian problem. 

[Illustration: BUTLER'S BARRACKS (OFFICERS' QUARTERS), NIAGARA COMMON]

CHAPTER XIII. 

THE WAR CLOUD. 

A President of the United States had breezily declared that the conquestof Canada would be "a mere matter of marching. " The final expulsion ofEngland from the American continent he regarded as a matter of course. Cabinet ministers at Washington and rabid politicians looked upon theforcible annexation of Canada as a foregone conclusion. 

One Massachusetts general officer, a professional fire-eater, said he"would capture Canada by contract, raise a company of soldiers and takeit in six weeks. " Henry Clay, another statesman, "verily believed thatthe militia of Kentucky alone were competent to place Upper Canada atthe feet of the Americans. " Calhoun, also a "war-hawk, " had said that"in four weeks from the time of the declaration of war the whole ofUpper and part of Lower Canada would be in possession of the UnitedStates. " All of this was only the spread-eagle bombast of amateurfilibusters, as events proved, but good cause for Brock, who had beenappointed janitor of Canada and been given the keys of the country, toponder deeply. 

Canada's entire population was nearly 320, 000--about the same as that ofToronto to-day--that of the United States was 8, 000, 000! To defend herbroken frontier Canada had only 1, 450 British soldiers and a militia--atthat moment--chiefly on paper. If the Indians in the West were to beimpressed with British supremacy--for they were making a stand against2, 000 American soldiers on the banks of the Wabash, in Ohio, whereeighteen years before they had been beaten by General Wayne atMiami--then Amherstburg must be greatly strengthened and the Americansdeterred from attack. How was Brock to obtain troops, and how were theyto be equipped? The stores at Fort York were empty, provisions costly, and no specie to be had. All the frontier posts needed heavierbatteries. On Lake Erie the fleet consisted of the _Queen Charlotte_ andthe small schooner _Hunter_. As to the militia, he had been advised thatit would not be prudent to arm more than 4, 000 of the 11, 000 in allCanada prepared to bear arms. 

To Brock's citation of thirty pressing wants Sir George Prevost wrotehim, "You must not be led into any measure bearing the character of_offence_, even should war be declared. " Prevost had a fluid backbone, while Brock's was of finely tempered steel. 

While affairs were in this precarious state His Excellency theLieutenant-Governor, Major-General Brock, opened the Legislature atYork. With what pride the news was received by the good people at St. Peter's Port can be imagined. To think that this great man, gorgeous ina purple Windsor uniform and slender court sword, with gleaming silkhose and hair aglitter with silver powder, was none other than "MasterIsaac, " whom the humblest Guernsey fisherman claimed as comrade, seemedpast belief! To think that this important gentleman, with frilledwaistcoat and cuffs of delicate lace--actually the King's Deputy--beforewhom, as "Your Excellency, " Indian and paleface, gentle and simple, bowed low, was the small boy who used to play "uprooting the gorse"with the Guernsey fisher-lads--was beyond comprehension. Probably theone least affected by these honours was our hero himself. While itgratified his honest pride, it did not in the least cloud his vision. His speech from the throne proves this. 

"It is a glorious contest in which the Empire is engaged, " he said, "tosecure the independence of Europe, but what can we think of the AmericanGovernment, which is trying to impede her effort. .. . The ships ofEngland, " he continued, "had been refused shelter in United Statesharbours, while refuge had been extended to the ships of our inveterateenemies. " He reminded the colonists that "insulting threats had beenoffered to the flag and hostile preparations made. " He praised themilitia, and, while wishing for peace, declared that "Canada mustprepare for war, relying on England's support in her hour of peril. " Heasked the Legislature to assent to three things of vital importance--thesuspension of the Habeas Corpus Act, the passage of a law to regulatethe privileges of aliens, and an Act providing for rewards to be paid tothe captors of deserters. 

It was a house divided against itself, and it turned a deaf ear toBrock's appeal. "To the great influence of _American settlers_ over themembers of the Lower House, " he attributed this defeat. A court-martialrevealed the fact that one of the best known militia regiments wascomposed almost entirely of native Americans! The United EmpireLoyalists thronged to his banner. 

Undaunted by the cheap prudence of Prevost, a hostile Legislature, andthe difficulties that beset him, Brock took off his coat, rolled up hissleeves, and all but single-handed--"off his own bat, " as Dobsonexplained it to an admiring crowd in the barrack-room--wrought like thehero that he was for the salvation of his country. He became a machine, a machine working at high pressure eighteen hours out of twenty-four. Hehad developed into a very demon for work. 

With an empty treasury and no hope of reinforcements--every soldierEngland could spare was fighting in Spain--he raised flank companies ofmilitia to be attached to the regular regiments. The Glengarrysharpshooters, four hundred strong, were enlisted in three weeks. A newschooner was placed on the stocks. He formed a car-brigade of the youngvolunteer farmers of York and removed incompetent officers. 

Fort George, constructed of earthen ramparts, with honeycombed cedarpalisades which a lighted candle could set fire to, with no tower orblock-house, and mounting only nine-pound guns, he knew was incapable ofresistance. It invited destruction from any battery that might beerected at Youngstown on the American side, while confronting it wasFort Niagara, built of stone, mounting over twenty heavy guns, containing a furnace for heating shot, and formidable with bastions, palisades, pickets and dry ditch. The tension at Niagara was trying. Twoofficers of the 41st were expelled for killing dull care by dissipation. A Canadian merchant schooner was boarded in mid-lake by an Americanbrig, taken to Sackett's Harbour and stripped. The Americans werepouring rations and munitions of war into Detroit. If Brock's hands wereshackled, he knew the art of sitting tight. He made another flying tripto Amherstburg, taking one hundred men of the 41st, in the face ofPrevost's standing orders to "exercise the strictest economy. "Handicapped on every side, doing his best and preparing for the worst, he wrote Prevost that his "situation was critical, " but he "hoped toavert dire calamity. "

The river bank between Fort George and Queenston for seven miles waspatrolled night and day. A watch was placed on Mississaga lighthousefrom daylight to dusk, and beacon masts, supporting iron baskets filledwith birchbark and pitch, were erected on the heights to announce, inevent of hostilities, the call to arms. 

At this time one of Brock's most intimate friends--his chosenadviser--was Mr. Justice William Dummer Powell, later Chief Justice ofUpper Canada, and former Speaker of the House. At the judge's house andat Tordarroch, the log mansion of General Ćneas Shaw--another intimate, and Adjutant-General of Militia--Brock was wont to repair for a fewhours' rest from official cares. It was at Tordarroch (Oak Hall), on theoutskirts of York, that the great Duke of Kent had been a guest. When atFort George our hero usually lived with Colonel Murray, of the 100th, and "charming Mrs. Murray, " as he was fond of calling her, in their"pretty cottage, " and if not there he was a constant visitor at thehouse of Captain John Powell, a son of the judge and son-in-law ofGeneral Shaw, between whose daughter, Sophia Shaw, and Isaac Brock therehad developed a deep attachment. Here he whiled away spare moments withwhist and cribbage, "diversions, " he said, "that sharpened a man'swits. " He would shoot wild pigeons and spruce partridges in the adjacentbush, or take long gallops, frequently alone, over the plains beyond theHeights of Queenston, ever on the lookout for new bridle-paths andpoint-to-point trails. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA DECLARES WAR. 

It came at last! On June 18th, 1812, after weeks of preparation, placingan embargo on shipping, putting 100, 000 militia on a war footing on thepretence of hostilities among the Indians, calling out the volunteersand raising a special public fund, Congress under President Madisondeclared war against Great Britain. 

This did not end Brock's suspense. Not until five weeks later did hereceive official notice from Prevost. Despite opposition from manystates, which declared their detestation of an alliance with Bonaparte, after a stormy debate behind closed doors at Washington, Congress votedfor war against England, with Canada as the point of attack. The UnitedStates placed itself on record as approving of "forcible invasion of aneighbouring peaceful country and its rights, and of taking property onwhich it had no shadow of claim. "

The offensive "right of search" of American ships by British warshipsfor deserters was, of course, given as the excuse for war. The UnitedStates Government contended that a nation's flag protected the cargoesof the vessels of that nation. To search for contraband or for deserterson such ships, President Madison declared, was a violation ofinternational law. In direct violation of the United States' owninterpretation of this decree, her war-frigate _President_ blew theBritish gunboat _Little Belt_, half her own size, almost out of thewater because of the refusal of her commander to allow such search. 

It is interesting to remember that while the United States contendedthat Britain had no right to search the ships of other nations, sheactually allowed her own officials, in the case of an American sailorwho had become a citizen of France and an officer in the French navy, tosearch the foreign vessel upon which he served and arrest him as adeserter. A more flagrant violation of the principles she professed isdifficult to imagine. She insisted that this officer was still a citizenof the United States, for he could not become a citizen of anothercountry without the consent of the government of his native country. So, when it suited her purpose, and in direct defiance of her ownproclamation, she did not hesitate to accept England's contention andadopt the "obnoxious doctrine"--thus practising the identical principleagainst which she had declared war. Truly glaring inconsistency. 

While these were the chief of the alleged reasons for war, the wholeworld knew that the real cause was the jealousy and hatred felt forEngland by a certain class of United States citizens who "were bound topick a quarrel with John Bull, excuse or no excuse. " That there weremany and irritating faults on the part of England cannot be denied. Inthe light of subsequent events it is not difficult to realize that bothgovernments were in the wrong. The wisdom born of bitter experience andthe sincere friendship of the two nations to-day, sensibly founded onmutual respect, happily renders a repetition of such regrettable scenesoutside the pale of possibility. 

Strange to say, England had revoked the objectionable Order-in-Councilauthorizing right of search of American ships for deserters by Britishmen-of-war the very day _before_ war was declared by the United States. There was no ocean cable in those days. Had there been, this story mightnever have been written. The removal, however, of this one reason for_war_ was not--when letters duly arrived from England announcing thefact--accepted by the United States as a reason for an immediatedeclaration of _peace_. This proves that the reasons advanced by theUnited States for going to war were from first to last not genuine, butmere excuses. Canada was as Naboth's vineyard, and Ahab, in the personof the United States, coveted it. England hesitated to draw the sword ona people "speaking a common tongue, with institutions based upon herown, " but she could not always be expected to "turn the other cheek tothe smiter. "

The United States called out an army of 15, 000 men for purposes ofattack on the Niagara frontier, and commanded General Wadsworth--ofcourse, on paper--"to feed and cherish them. " How well he executed thiscommand remains to be seen. 

What of Canada? Her yeomen forsook ploughshare and broadaxe, seizedsword and musket, and rallied to the standard of Brock. In Upper Canadathere was an active force of 950 regulars and marines and 550 militia. This little army had to defend the seven forts of Kingston, York, George, Erie, Chippewa, Amherstburg, and St. Joseph, not one of whichwas a fortress of strength, to patrol the lakes and protect a mostvulnerable frontier. It was the opinion of leading military authoritiesthat Canada could never be held against such an enemy. 

Brock was at York when the news reached him. He at once sent part of the41st to Niagara by lake, crossing himself with his brigade-major, Evans, and Macdonell and Glegg, his aides, and, as usual, in a batteau, with eleven men. At Fort George he bade adieu to some American officers, guests of the mess, and sent them across the river. He was eager tostorm Fort Niagara, whose capture might have changed the entiresituation, but alas! what of his instructions?

He called out more militia, though he had only a few tents and many ofthe men were drilling without shoes. One hundred Tuscaroras under ChiefBrant answered his summons. He divided his augmented Niagara force intofour divisions--at Fort Erie 400 men, at Fort Chippewa 300, at Queenston300, at Fort George 500. Of these, 900 were militia. 

The rattle of the matchlock was as familiar as cockcrow. Every manbecame in fact, if not in deed, a volunteer. If the musket was notstrapped to the tail of the plough, it leaned against thesnake-fence--loaded. The goose-step, the manual and platoon took theplace of the quadrille. Every clearing became a drill-hall, every logcabin an armoury. Many of the militia were crack shots, with all thescouting instincts of the forest ranger. In the barrack-square, inscarlet, white and green, the regulars drilled and went through wondrousevolutions with clock-work precision--fighting machinery with thetenacity of the bull-dog, though lacking the craft of the woods that hadtaught the volunteer the value of shelter and the wisdom of dwelling onhis aim. 

Apart, stolid and silent, but interested spectators, lounged the duskyredmen, forever sucking at their _pwoighun-ahsin_ (stone pipes) andmaking tobacco from the inner bark of red-willow wands, watching andwondering. The foot soldiers carried fire-locks, flints and cartridgeboxes. These smooth-bore flint-locks had an effective range of less than100 yards, and could be discharged only once a minute. Very different tothe modern magazine rifle, which can discharge twenty-five shots in aminute and kill at 4, 200 yards, while within 2, 000 yards it is accurateand deadly. The mounted men were armed with sabres and ponderouspistols. 

Our hero addressed the militia. The enemy, he told them, intended to laywaste the country. "Let them be taught, " he said, "that Canadians wouldnever bow their necks to a foreign yoke. " As the custodian of theirrights, he was trying to preserve all they held dear. He looked to themto repel the invaders. 

Brock was placed in a most peculiar position, for while the passivePrevost was still instructing him--nearly three weeks _after_ thedeclaration of war--"to take no offensive measures, as none would betaken by the United States Government, " General Hull, with a force of2, 500 tried soldiers, was on his way from Ohio through the Michiganforests to occupy Detroit and invade Canada. Hull reached Detroit, andfour days later, with his entire command, crossed the river and occupiedSandwich. But the trip was attended with serious mishap to his army, forLieutenant Roulette, of the British sloop _Hunter_--a brother of thefamous fur-trader--in a small batteau, with only six men, captured theUnited States packet _Cayuga_, with a detachment of five officers andthirty-three soldiers, as she was coming up the river. The _Cayuga's_treasure consisted not only of valuable stores and baggage, but Hull'sofficial correspondence with the United States Secretary of War. Thecontents of this decided Brock, though he had no idea Hull's army was sostrong, to attempt the reduction of Fort Detroit without a moment'sdelay. 

The very hour he knew that war was declared he had notified the officerat St. Joseph. Our hero, whose root idea of a soldier's craft was"secrecy in conception and vigour in execution, " had no taste forPrevost's mad doctrine that the aggressed had to await the convenienceof the aggressor. Brock had been taught to regard tolerance in war as an"evil of the first magnitude, " and so had already instructed thecommander at St. Joseph that if war was proclaimed he was to attackMackinaw at once, but if attacked, "defend your post to the last. "Prevost at the same time had ordered this officer "in case of necessityto effect his own retreat, " never dreaming he would dare attackMackinaw. What a contrast the despatches of these two men present! Theone full of confidence, fight and resistance, the other shrinking fromaction and suggesting retreat. Brock's despatch was of later date andmore palatable to the fighter at St. Joseph. He started at once forMackinaw, fifty-five miles distant, with 45 of the 10th Royal veterans, 180 Canadians, many of whom were traders and voyageurs, and convoyed bythe brig _Caledonia_, owned by the North-West Fur Company. 

He landed before daybreak. By noon of that day the Union Jack wasfloating above the basalt cliffs of the Gibraltar of the north, and alsoover two of the enemy's vessels laden with furs. It is not on recordthat Captain Roberts was recommended by General Sir George Prevost forpromotion! The Indians at Amherstburg were now ready to support theBritish. Foremost among these was the great Shawanese warrior, Tecumseh. 

General Hull, having meantime billeted himself in Colonel Baby's bigbrick house at Sandwich, issued a proclamation to the "inhabitants ofCanada. " As a sample of egotism, bluff and bombast it stands unrivalled. He told the inhabitants of Canada that he was in possession of theircountry, that an ocean and wilderness isolated them from England, whosetyranny he knew they felt. His grand army was ready to release them fromoppression. They must choose between liberty and security, as offered bythe United States, and war and annihilation, the penalty of refusal. Healso threatened instant destruction to any Canadian found fighting bythe side of an Indian, though General Dearborn, in command of the UnitedStates forces at Niagara, had been authorized by the United StatesSecretary of War "to organize the warriors of the Seneca Indians" _foractive service against Canada_. 

The United States Secretary of War wrote to Hull, saying his actionrespecting Canadian Indians "met with the approval of the Government. "Evidently ashamed, upon reflection, of Hull's threat, that sameGovernment later instructed its commissioners at the Treaty of Ghent, when peace was restored, "to disown and disavow" their former Indianpolicy. 

Hull's extraordinary production, which proved a boomerang, was reallythe work of Colonel Lewis Cass, his Chief of Staff; but while Hull andCass were "unloading their rhetoric at Sandwich, " our hero was "loadinghis guns at Mackinaw. "

CHAPTER XV. 

BROCK ACCEPTS HULL'S CHALLENGE. 

With the country's call for a saviour had arisen the man so sorelyneeded. Vigilant, sagacious and brave, but with most inadequate forces, Brock, faced by a crisis, hurried to repel the invasion by Hull. IfCanada was to be saved, Detroit, as well as Mackinaw, must be reduced. The confidence also of the savages must be retained. The smallness ofhis army demanded the neutrality of the redmen, if not their active aid. 

The plan of his campaign was laid before his Executive Council and themembers of his staff. As they parted at the door of the General'squarters at midnight, preceding the day on which their gallant leaderissued his counter reply to Hull, his final words were: "To holdAmherstburg, gentlemen, is of vital importance. It is the western basefrom which we must resist attack and advance upon Detroit. It must beheld in force. "

Brock's written answer to Hull's flamboyant address--edited by his wiseadviser, Judge Powell--was eloquent and dignified. Hull's invitation toCanadians to seek protection from Britain under the flag of the UnitedStates was, he said, "an insult. " He cited the advantages of Britishconnection, and warned the colonists that secession meant therestitution of Canada to the Empire of France. This was the price to bepaid by America for the aid given by France to the revolting Statesduring the War of Independence. He reminded them of the constancy oftheir fathers. "Are you prepared to become slaves to this despotNapoleon, who rules Europe with a rod of iron? If not, arise, repel theinvader and give your children no cause to reproach you with sacrificingthe richest inheritance of earth, participation in the name, characterand freedom of Britons. "

He told them not to be dismayed by the enemy's threat to "refuse themquarter should an Indian appear in their ranks. " "Why, " he continued, "should the brave bands of Indians which now inhabit this colony beprevented from defending their new homes?" These poor people, hereminded them, had actually been punished for their former fidelity tothe United States, by the Government of that country taking from themtheir old homes in Ohio. The King of England had granted them a refugeand given them superior lands in Canada. Why were they to be denied theright to defend their hearths "from invasion by ferocious foes, " who, while utilizing Indians themselves, had condemned the practice inothers? The threat to refuse quarter to these defenders of invadedrights would, he said, bring about inevitable reprisal, for "thenational character of Britain was not less distinguished for humanitythan retributive justice. "

The obstacles surrounding Brock would have driven an ordinary man todistraction. It is not possible to recite a fraction of them. The GrandRiver Indians, having received a specious letter from Hull, refused tojoin the relief expedition for Moraviantown, on the Thames, on whichsome of Hull's freebooters were marching. Some of the militia declinedto leave their homes, suspicious, they said, of Indian treachery. Some, with blood relations in the States, refused point blank to take up arms. Others were busy harvesting, while not a few came out openly as traitorsand joined the ranks of Hull. Brock had no reinforcements of regulartroops, and small chance of getting any, and, what was far worse, hereceived little moral support even from the Legislature, and none fromother sources from which he had a right to expect it. He called an extrasession of the House to enact laws to meet the crisis, to invest himwith greater authority and to vote money for defence. He closed hisSpeech from the Throne with a declaration delivered in sonorous, ringingtones that echoed throughout the chamber:

"We are engaged in an awful and eventful contest. By unanimity andvigour we may teach the enemy this lesson, that a country defended byfree men, devoted to the cause of their King and constitution, can neverbe conquered. "

Though Brock's speech "inspired the faithful and foiled the designs ofsome of the faithless, " his demands were conceded in part only, and heleft for Fort George with heart filled with misgivings. In answer to hisrequest, Prevost declined to define the extent of the authority withwhich he had himself vested him. Extreme measures, he told him, must betaken at his own risk. Our hero was one of those limited few who hadsounded the depths of the truth that it was easier to do one's duty thanto know it. His shrewdness and self-reliance came to the rescue. Seeingthat the Niagara River would be selected as the point for invasion, hemade it his _defensive_ frontier, while the Detroit River was the_offensive_ front of his campaign. These views he outlined to his staffon the night following the prorogation of the House. 

Judge Powell, after a long session of Council, the last to depart, wasrising to leave. "Then, sir, " said Colonel Macdonell, General Brock'snew provincial aide, the young and brilliant Attorney-General of UpperCanada--engaged to Mary Powell, the daughter of the judge--"you reallybelieve we can bombard Detroit successfully? The fort has, I understand, parapets twenty feet high, with four bastions, surrounded by palisades, a ditch and a glacis, and is capable of withstanding a long siege;besides which it has 2, 500 fighting men to defend it. "

"My good Macdonell, " responded our hero, interest and deep regardimprinted on his face, "we fortunately know from Hull's own letters thathe has as little confidence in his army as they have confidence in him. I fancy he is merely whistling to keep up his courage. A bold front onour part, with a judicious display of our small force, will give himcause to reflect. Then, provided we enthuse the Indians--and if Mackinawis fallen, this should not be difficult--Detroit is ours!"

"How about Amherstburg and Sandwich, General?" interjected JusticePowell. "Their safety is essential to your plan. "

"As to Amherstburg, " said Brock, "it is the pivot point, sir, and mustbe retained as our base. At Sandwich we already have earthworkscompleted. If destroyed by Hull they must be rebuilt, for the batteriesthere must cover our crossing and cannonade the fort while we advanceupon it. I have already sent, as you know, a few additional men toProcter--every man I can steal from here. He should be able to hold hisown at Amherstburg for a bit longer. The conditions, I admit, are farfrom satisfactory under the present command, but Chambers is on his waywith forty of the 41st, one hundred militia with Merritt, and some ofBrant's braves, to put backbone into the garrison. "

"General, " said Justice Powell, the rays from a waning moon flooding thehall-way as the outer door was opened by Brock for the exit of hiscouncillors, "having implicit confidence in your judgment and militaryability, I believe you will overthrow Hull. Assuming that you captureold Fort Lernoult and seize Detroit, what then?"

"What then, sir?" said Brock--emphasizing his parting words with agesture of his hand--"why, Detroit taken, I shall return here, batterFort Niagara--providing Prevost consents--and then by a sudden movementI could sweep the frontier from Buffalo to Fort Niagara and complete thesalvation of Canada by the occupation of Sackett's Harbor. Good-night, gentlemen. _En avant_, Detroit!"

CHAPTER XVI. 

"EN AVANT, DETROIT!"

Under an August moon Lake Erie shone as a shield of silver. Brock, witha fleet of small craft, batteaux and boats of every kind given him bythe settlers, had pulled out from Long Point with 40 regulars and 260militia for the relief of Amherstburg, two hundred miles distant. 

The news of the fall of Mackinaw and the official declaration of war hadonly reached him as Parliament rose. He had proclaimed martial lawbefore leaving York. He had also heard details of the attack by Hull'sraiders on the Moravian settlement, sixty miles up the Thames. He knewof the repulse of 300 United States troops in three attempts to crossthe Canard River bridge for an attack on Amherstburg, and of their beingdriven into the open plains, with loss, by Procter's men. 

It was in one of these attacks that the first scalp in the war of 1812was taken--not by one of Brock's terrible Indians, whose expectedexcesses had been referred to by Hull, but by a captain of Hull's spies. This officer--one hates to describe him as a white man--wrote his wife, he "had the pleasure of tearing a scalp from the head of a Britishredskin, " and related at length the brutal details of his methods. Theywere those of a wild beast. "The first stroke of the tomahawk, " Hull hadstated in his proclamation, "the first attempt with the scalping-knife, will be the signal of a scene of desolation. " Yet the first scalp takenin the Detroit campaign was by one of his own officers!

Brock knew that the valorous Hull, dismayed at the advance of theBritish, had recrossed the river with all but 250 of his men and washard at work on the defences of Fort Shelby, behind which he hadretired. Brock also knew of the affair at Brownstown, where the Indianchief Tecumseh, with twenty-five warriors, had separated himself fromMajor Muir's detachment, sent to intercept a transport on its way fromOhio to Detroit with supplies for Hull. He had been told of thestratagem by which the great Shawanese warrior had ambushed the 200American soldiers, near the Raisin River, who had marched from Detroitto escort this convoy and the mails. Seven American officers were killedat the Raisin, twelve of all ranks wounded, and seventy reported missingafter the fight. In addition to the provision train, Tecumseh capturedwhat was of much greater importance, another batch of Hull's despondentdespatches. It was here that swift justice overtook the scalping CaptainMcCullough, of Hull's spies, who himself met with the fate of his formervictim--the fate he deserved. 

Brock also received despatches describing the daring attack byLieutenant Roulette, of the provincial marine, who in a small boat witha handful of men had boarded and seized in the Detroit River a brigadeof eleven batteaux! These, loaded with food, were on their way fromBlack Rock, and now carried fifty-six wounded American soldiers and twoEnglish prisoners. This bold feat of "cutting out" took place under theeyes of an armed escort of 250 American soldiers marching along theriver bank. 

Messengers from Procter had also informed Brock of the fight atMaguagua, fourteen miles below Detroit. It was here that Muir, with 200regulars and militia and less than 200 Indians, instead of waiting to beattacked, recklessly assailed a force of 600 Americans who were haltedon the edge of the oak forest, supported by two six-pounder guns. Fighting without hope against such odds, the British were outflanked, Muir himself wounded, and an officer killed--the second British soldierto fall in the war of 1812. The American loss was eighteen killed andsixty-three wounded. Though the difference in arms and men was greatlyin favour of the Americans, the British were enabled to retreat to theriver, where they regained their boats. The American force, sufferingfrom greater casualties, did not attempt to follow them. 

Apart from the inferior strength of the British, the chief cause oftheir reverse at Maguagua was the blunder of some men of the 41st, whofired upon a body of Tecumseh's Indians. In rushing from the woods theredmen were mistaken for the enemy, and falling into a similar errorthemselves, they returned with interest the fire of the Britishsoldiers. The disorder that followed created a panic. While Tecumsehwith his own Indians fought bravely, the seventy Lake Indians underCaldwell suffered from "chill" and fled at the first shot. The mostencouraging of these facts, when told to the expedition, aroused inBrock's followers a wild desire to meet Hull's army in battle. 

Our hero's trip from Long Point was full of peril and hardship. The lakeshore in places was extremely rugged. Precipitous cliffs of red clay andsun-baked sand rose two hundred feet from the boulder-strewn coast. Scarcely a creek offered shelter. The weather was unusually stormy. Aheavy surf boomed on the shore. Flocks of water-fowl were driven beforethe wind. The men were drenched by torrents of rain. Though thirty milesin twenty-four hours was considered the maximum distance for rowing abatteau, nothing could retard this strange armada or dampen theconfidence of the men in their resolute leader, who in an open boat ledthe way. In this boat, which was "headquarters, " were Brock and his twoaides. A lighted flambeau at the bow acted as a beacon during the night. After five days of great vigilance and galley-slave work, the toilersreached Amherstburg. Without the help of these hardy and resourceful menof the Canadian militia this trip could not have been accomplished. 

The conduct of these bold frontiersmen aroused Brock's admiration. Hisown example had again acted as an inspiration. Shortly after leavingPort Talbot, his batteau, pounding in the sea, ran upon a reef thatextended far from shore, and despite oars and pike-poles, remained fast. In the height of the confusion "Master Isaac" sprang overboard, and amoment later voyageur and raw recruit, waist deep in water, followingthe example of the hero of Castle Cornet, lifted the batteau over thedangerous ledge. 

When at midnight the boats passed up the Strait--through which theambitious La Salle and Father Hennepin had passed in 1679--and grated onthe gravel beach at Amherstburg, Brock was greeted with a volley ofmusketry by the Indians. This was contrary to his rigid rubric of war. Such waste of powder must not be tolerated. He turned to the Indiansuperintendent, "Do pray, Colonel Elliott, " said he, "explain my reasonsfor objecting to the firing and tell the Chiefs I will talk with themto-morrow. "

[Illustration: OUR HERO MEETS TECUMSEH. "THIS IS A MAN!"]

CHAPTER XVII. 

OUR HERO MEETS TECUMSEH. 

A few minutes only had elapsed when Elliott returned. The sentry'schallenge caused Brock to look up from the table, littered with plansand despatches. Another figure darkened the doorway. 

"This, sir, " said Elliott, "is Tecumseh, the Shawanese chief of whom youhave heard, and who desires to be presented to you. "

The General, who had removed the stains of travel and was in uniform, rose to his full height, bowed, extended his hand and explained in manlyfashion the reason for asking that the firing be stopped. The contrastpresented by the two men was striking. The old world and the new, faceto face--a scene for the brush of an impressionist. Brock, tall, fair, big-limbed, a blue-eyed giant, imposing in scarlet coat and blue-whiteriding trousers, tasselled Hessian boots, and cocked-hat in hand. On hisbenevolent face was an irresistible smile. 

The Indian, though of middle height, was of most perfect proportions, anathlete in bronze, lithe and supple as a panther. His oval face, set ina frame of glistening black hair, shone like a half-polished copperrelief. Overlooking the nose, straight as one of his own arrows, andfrom which some tinkling silver coins were suspended, a pair ofhawk-like eyes, hazel-black and unflinching--in which the secrets of theworld seemed slumbering--gleamed upon Brock. His dress, a huntingjacket of tanned deer-skin and close-fitting leggings. Fringed mocassinsof the same material, richly embroidered in silk and porcupine quillsdyed in divers colours, encased his feet. The light from the open logfire flickered fitfully, half revealing the antlered heads of moose andcaribou and other trophies of the chase that, hanging from the rafters, looked down upon the group, adding weirdness to the picture. 

Brock briefly explained that he had come to fight the King's enemies, enemies who so far had never seen his back, and who were Tecumseh'senemies also. "Would Tecumseh maintain an honourable warfare?"

Perhaps no eulogy of Brock was ever penned that so well summed up hisqualities as did the terse, four-worded certificate of character utteredby the Indian before replying to the British general's appeal. Tecumsehlooked "Master Isaac's" commanding physique up and over, over anddown--Brock's caution as to waste of powder doubtless weighing withhim--until eye met eye, and then, impulsively extending his thin brownhand, turned to his followers, exclaiming in tones of highestadmiration:

"_This_ is a man!"

Assenting "Ughs" and "Ho-hos" followed in rapid succession, and inresponse to Brock's invitation the headmen, painted and plumed and instriped blankets, squatted on their stained reed mats and wild-beastskins on the basswood log floor. Questioned as to the nature of thecountry westward, Tecumseh took a roll of elm-bark and with the point ofhis scalping-knife traced on its white inner surface the features of theregion--hills, forests, trails, rivers, muskegs and clearings. Rough, perhaps, but as accurate, he said, as if drawn by a pale-face_teebahkeč-wayninni_ (surveyor). 

That night, after Tecumseh's return, Brock again held council with hisstaff, proposing an attack on Detroit. Only one of his chief officers, the staunch colonial quartermaster, Lieutenant-Colonel Nichol, agreedwith him. Colonel Henry Procter, from whom he had expected whole-heartedsupport, strongly objected. History teaches us that the conception of adaring plan is the offspring of great minds only. Procter was not ofthis class, as his subsequent record shows. Some of our hero's criticshave described his resolve to attack Detroit as "audacious anddesperate. " Isaac Brock was, of course, nothing if not contemptuouslydaring. The greater the difficulty that faced him the more was hedetermined to challenge the obstacle, that to a less confident man wouldhave been rejected as insurmountable. He had, however, resolved andplanned not only upon taking Detroit, but, if need be, the pursuit andcapture of Hull's entire army, compelling him to either stand and fightor surrender. With habitual prescience he had weighed well the issuesand chosen the lesser alternative. His own defeat and possibly hisdeath, on the one hand, against the probable salvation of half acontinent on the other. What true soldier could hesitate?

While patiently hearing objections, he brushed the most of them aside asmere flies on the wheel. Surely the way had been opened to him. Theseized despatches had revealed the discord among Hull's troops and shownhim that while the United States militia, the flower of Ohio andKentucky, was of good material, the United States soldiers were not. Heknew that the situation in Upper Canada called for extreme measures, andthat the time to strike was now or never, for his scouts had trulyreported that 350 United States mounted troops were pressing close uponhis rear. They were, in fact, only a mile or two distant. If his owninferior force was outflanked, or his communication with the Canadianinterior cut, it spelled utter disaster. He was in a wilderness withouthope of reinforcements. As Colonel Cass, the United States commander, later reported to the President, Brock was "between two fires and withno hope of succour. " Brock knew he must act at once or even retreatmight be impossible. With inborn acumen he saw at a glance the peril ofhis own position, and with cool courage hastened to avert it. Herealized that upon the "destruction or discomfiture" of Hull's forces"the safety of the province depended. "

Brock listened closely to Procter's argument--by this time he knew, ofcourse, that Hull's own line of communication with his reserves had beencut--then rising, when all who cared to speak had finished, he said:"Gentlemen, I have definitely decided on crossing the river andattacking Fort Detroit. Instead of further advice I must beg of you togive me your hearty support. The general orders for to-morrow will beissued at once. "

This decision was typical of the man of action. "Prudent only whererecklessness was a fault, and hazardous only when hesitation meantdefeat. "

CHAPTER XVIII. 

AN INDIAN POW-WOW. 

It was a picturesque council of white men and Indians that was held atdawn in an open glade of the forest. The fragrant odours of the bushmingled with the pungent smoke of the red willow-bark, puffed from ahundred pipes. Conspicuous at this pow-wow was Tecumseh, who across hisclose-fitting buckskin hunting jacket, which descended to his knees andwas trimmed with split leather fringe, wore a belt of wampum, made ofthe purple enamel of mussel shells--cut into lengths like sections of asmall pipe-stem, perforated and strung on sinew. On his head he wore atoque of eagle plumes. 

"My object, " said Brock, addressing the Indians, "is to assist you todrive the 'Long-knives' [Americans] from the frontier, and repelinvasion of the King's country. " Tecumseh, speaking for his tribesmen, remarked, not without sarcasm, that "their great father, King George, having awakened out of a long sleep, they were now ready to shed theirlast drop of blood in that father's service. "

"The pale faces, " he continued, after an impressive pause--and the fireof his eloquence and his gestures swayed his hearers like the reeds onthe river bank--"the Americans who want to fight the British are ourenemies. .. . They came to us hungry and they cut off the hands of ourbrothers who gave them corn. .. . We gave them rivers of fish and theypoisoned our fountains. .. . We gave them forest-clad mountains andvalleys full of game, and in return what did they give our warriors andour women? Rum and trinkets and--a grave!. .. The shades of our fathersslaughtered on the banks of the Tippecanoe can find no rest. .. . Theireyes can see no herds on the hills of light in the hunting grounds ofthe dead!. .. Until our enemies are no more we must be as one man, underone chief, whose name is--Death!. .. I have spoken. "

Tecumseh, it should be known, bore a personal grudge against theAmericans, especially against the 4th Regiment, then in garrison atDetroit, the "heroes of Tippecanoe. " This was a terrible misnomer, forunder General Harrison, with 1, 000 soldiers, less than a year before, they had taken part in the slaughter of Tecumseh's half-armed band of600 men and women on the banks of the Tippecanoe River, during thatchief's absence with many of his warriors, and had laid waste hisvillage. With a perhaps pardonable spirit of vindictiveness, such as isshared by both redskin and white man, the human-being in him thirstedfor revenge. 

Brock, perceiving Tecumseh's sagacity and influence over the savages, invited the Shawanese and Wawanosh, Ojebekun and the other sachems, to aprivate council. Here he unfolded his plans. Before doing this he madeit a condition that no barbarities were to be committed. "Thescalping-knife, " said he, "must be discarded, and forbearance, compassion and clemency shown to the vanquished. " He told them he wantedto restrict their military operations to the known rules of war, as faras was possible under the singular conditions in which they fought, andexacted a promise from the lofty-minded Tecumseh that his warriors"should not taste pernicious liquor until they had humbled theBig-knives. " "If this resolution, " remarked Brock, "is persevered in, you must surely conquer. "

Brock's rapid ascendency over the Indians was astonishing; they alreadyrevered him as a common father. 

That same afternoon our hero, moving up with his entire command toSandwich, occupied the mansion of Colonel Baby, the great fur-trader, just evacuated by Hull. In the spacious hall hooks were nailed to therafters, from which were suspended great steel-yards, by which thebeaver packs were weighed. Scattered on the hewn floor in much profusionwere soldiers' accoutrements, service and pack-saddles, iron-boundchests mixed up with bear-traps and paddles, rolls of birch-bark, leather hunting shirts, and the greasy blankets of voyageur and redskin. The room on the right became Brock's headquarters, and in this room hepenned his first demand upon General Hull. 

"My force, " so he wrote, "warrants my demanding the immediate surrenderof Fort Detroit. " Anxious to prevent bloodshed, and knowing Hull's dreadof the Indians, he also played upon his fears. "The Indians, " he added, "might get beyond my control. " This summons was carried by ColonelMacdonell and Major Glegg, under a flag of truce, across the river. 

The batteries at Sandwich consisted of one eighteen-pounder, twotwelve-pounders, and two 51/2-inch howitzers. Back of these artificialbreastworks extended both a wilderness and the garden of Canada. Beyondthe meadows, aflame with autumn wild-flowers, beyond the cultivatedclearings, rose a forest of walnut, oak, basswood, birch and poplartrees, seared with age, of immense height and girth, festooned with wildhoneysuckle and other creepers. In the open were broad orchards bendingunder their harvest of red and yellow fruit--apples and plums, peaches, nectarines and cherries--and extensive vineyards. Huge sugar mapleschallenged giant pear trees, whose gnarled trunks had resisted thestorms of a century. To the north the floor of the forest was interlacedwith trails, which, with the intention of deceiving Hull's spies as tothe strength of Brock's forces, had been crossed and recrossed, andcountermarched and doubled over, by the soldiers and Tecumseh'shalf-naked braves. 

The air was filled with the fragrance of orchard and forest. Facing ourhero, flowed the river, broad, swift and deep; tufted wolf-willow, waving rushes and gray hazel fringing the banks. Across and beyond thisalmost mile-wide ribbon of water, the imposing walls of Fort Detroitconfronted him. Approaching him at a rapid gait he at last espied histwo despatch bearers, their scarlet tunics vivid against the greenbackground. They reported that, after waiting upon Hull for two hourswithout being granted an interview, they were handed the followingreply:

"General Hull is prepared to meet any force brought against him, andaccept any consequences. "

Brock instructed his gunners to acknowledge the receipt of thischallenge with the thunder of their batteries, and from then, far intothe night, shells and round-shot shrieked their way across the river, the answering missiles from Hull's seven twenty-four-pounders breakingin a sheet of flame from the very dust created by the Britishcannon-balls that exploded on the enemy's breastworks. Through the ironyof fate, the first shot fired under Brock's personal orders in the causeof Canadian freedom killed a United States officer, an intimate friendof the British artilleryman who had trained the gun. Such are thearguments of war. 

The cannonade proving ineffective, as judged by visible results, Brockissued orders to cross the river at dawn, when he would make the attemptto take the fort by storm--and soldier and militiaman bivouacked ontheir arms. 

 * * * * *

Camp fires were extinguished, but the tireless fireflies danced in theblackness of the wood. The river gurgled faintly in the wind-stirredreeds. From out the gloom of the thicket came the weird _coco-coco_ ofthe horned owl. From the starlit sky above fell the shrill cry of themosquito hawk, "_peepeegeeceese, peepeegeeceese_!" From an isolated barktepee came the subdued incantation of the Indian medicine-man, whileabove the singing of the tree-tops and over all, clear and withclock-like regularity, floated the challenge of the sentry and answeringpicket:

"Who goes there?"

"A friend. "

"All's well. "

CHAPTER XIX. 

THE ATTACK ON DETROIT. 

Morning came all too slowly for Brock's impatient soldiers. At last the_reveille_ warned the expectant camp. The sun rose, a red-hot shell outof the faint August haze, huge and threatening. With its advent theBritish batteries resumed their fire, aided by the guns on the _QueenCharlotte_ and _Hunter_, which lay in the river, above the village knownto-day as Windsor, to cover the embarkation of the troops in batteauxand canoes. 

Brock's entire force consisted of only 330 regulars and 400 militia, some of whom, acting on a happy thought, were disguised in discardeduniforms of the 41st. This army was supported by five pieces ofartillery. All crossed the river in safety, landing at Spring Wells, four miles below. The Indians, 600 strong, under Tecumseh, in additionto the men of his own nation, consisted of many Sioux, Wyandottes andDacotahs. The majority of these crossed under cover of the night. History records no instance of a determined force being stopped by ariver. The Detroit River presented an animated picture. Edging their waythrough a maze of boats and batteaux, and in marked contrast to thescarlet-coated soldiers and blue-shirted sailors, bark canoes on whichwere drawn in flaring colours a variety of barbaric designs, flittedhere and there, their crews of half-naked savages fearsome in freshwar-paint and gaudy feathers. Coo-ees, shrieks and shrillwar-whoops--"Ah-oh! Ah-oo!" like the dismal yells of a pack ofcoyotes--rent the air, the discordant din ever and anon drowned by thethunder of the guns from the Sandwich batteries. 

Upon landing Brock mustered his men. The reports showed 750 of allranks, including the voyageurs left in charge of the river squadron. The600 Indians deployed in the shelter of the woods, skirmishing to effecta flank movement. The column, having formed, was moved forward insections, and at double distance, to lend a fictitious air of strength;the light artillery, of three, six, and two three-pounders, beingimmediately in rear of the advance guards, the whole preceded byfluttering standards and rolling drums. Three generations ago! Yet youcan see it all to-day as plainly as Brock saw it, if you but close youreyes and conjure up the past. 

The enemy, over 2, 000 strong, drawn up in line upon an overlooking rise, had planted in the roadway, commanding the approach to the town, twotwenty-four pounders, each loaded with six dozen grapeshot, around whichthe gunners stood with burning fuses, challenging our hero's advance. 

Up and down, in front of the line, rode Isaac Brock on his gray charger, his brilliant uniform--khaki was unknown in those days--flashing in themorning sun, a shining mark. A command here, a kindly rebuke there, aword of encouragement to all ranks; the eyes of Britain and Canada wereupon them; they might have to take the fort by storm, --even so, honourand glory awaited them. .. . Forward then, for King and country!

The rat-a-tat-tat of the kettle-drums, the clear-cut whistle of thefifes, the resonant roll of the big drums, the steady tramp, tramp ofarmed men--and the human machine was in motion. 

 * * * * *

The long grim guns on Fort Detroit and Hull's field-pieces pointed theirblack muzzles at the column. Up and down, in front of his men, rodeIsaac Brock. 

 * * * * *

Now this was more than some flesh and blood could stand. Spurring hishorse, acting Quartermaster-General Nichol reined up alongside hisbeloved commander. "General, " he said, saluting his leader, while thesoldiers' faces expressed dumb approval, "forgive me, but I cannotforbear entreating you not to expose yourself. If we lose you, we loseall. I pray you, allow the troops to advance, led by their ownofficers. "

"Master Nichol, " said Brock, turning in his saddle and returning thesalute of the gallant Quartermaster, "I fully appreciate your kindlyadvice, but I feel that, in addition to their sense of loyalty and duty, there are many here following me from a feeling of personal regard, andI will never ask them to go where I do not lead. "

Before him spread the plain, broken here and there with _coulees_ andclumps of bush. A partly fenced roadway, with some scattered houses onthe river bank, but no barbed-wire entanglements, impeded his movements. The introduction of such pleasant devices was left for a highercivilization!

 * * * * *

The column was in motion. The steady onward tramp, tramp of this thinred line, raw recruit and grizzly veteran shoulder to shoulder, struckfear into the heart of the unfortunate Hull. The prospect, though histroops outnumbered the British three to one, was clearly war to theknife. Brock's meaning was apparent. Should he or should he not acceptthe Englishman's challenge? He could extract no comfort out of thatsolid scarlet front, bristling with naked steel, now fast approaching inbattle array with even, ominous tread. 

 * * * * *

The siege-proof walls of the fort lay behind him. His irresolute heartgrew faint, and in the flash of a flintlock in its pan, honour wassacrificed and fame cast to the winds. A brave army of martyrs, over2, 000 strong, was rightabout faced, and drinking the cup of humiliation, that only men of courage can drain to the bitter dregs, this army, eagerto lock bayonets with the British, was actually ordered to retreat intothe shelter of Fort Detroit!

[Illustration: LIEUT. -COLONEL JOHN MACDONELL]

CHAPTER XX. 

BROCK'S VICTORY. 

Reaching a ravine, Brock ordered up his artillery and prepared toassault. A shell from the British battery at Sandwich roared over theriver and crashed through an embrasure of Fort Shelby, killing fourAmerican officers. The Savoyard river was reached and the outlyingtan-yard crossed. Brock's troops, keyed up, with nerves tense under thestrain of suspense, and every moment expecting a raking discharge ofshot and shell from the enemy's big guns, heard with grim satisfactionthe General's orders to "prepare for assault. "

The field-pieces were trained upon the fort, to cover the rush of thebesiegers. The gunners, with bated breath and burning fuses, awaited thefinal command, when lo! an officer bearing a white flag emerged from thefort, while a boat with another flag of truce was seen crossing theriver to the Sandwich battery. Macdonell and Glegg galloped out to meetthe messenger. They returned with a despatch from the American general, Hull, to the British general, Brock. This was the message:

"The object of the flag which crossed the river was to propose acessation of hostilities for an hour, for the purpose of entering intonegotiations for the surrender of Detroit. "

 * * * * *

An hour later the British troops, with General Isaac Brock at theirhead, marched through the smiling fields and orchards, passed over thefort draw-bridge, and, surrounded by a host of fierce-looking andindignant militia of Ohio and "the heroes of Tippecanoe, " hauled downthe Stars and Stripes--which had waved undisturbed over Fort Lernoultsince its voluntary evacuation by the British in 1796--and, in defaultof a British ensign, hoisted a Union Jack--which a sailor had worn as abody-belt--over the surrendered fortress. British sentinels now guardedthe ramparts. The bells of old St. Anne's saluted the colors. The "GrandArmy of the West, " by which pretentious title Hull had seen fit todescribe his invading force, melted like mist before the rising sun. 

Several unattached Canadians, costumed as redmen, followed Brock insidethe fort, and, baring their white arms for Hull's especial edification, declared they had so disguised themselves in order to show theircontempt for his cruel threat respecting instant death to "Indians foundfighting. "

The terms of capitulation included not only one general officer and2, 500 men of all ranks--the would-be conquerors of Canada--2, 500 standof arms, 33 pieces of cannon, the _Adams_ brig of war, and immensequantities of stores and munitions, valued at Ł40, 000--but Fort Shelbyand the town of Detroit and 59, 700 square miles of United Statesterritory. Nor were these all, for the fort standard--to the wilddelight of Tecumseh's warriors--a highly-prized trophy, it being the"colours" of the 4th United States regiment, the vaunted "heroes ofTippecanoe, " passed into the keeping of the British. 

Canada was saved!

It was then that those officers who strongly opposed Brock'sdetermination to attack became suddenly wise after the event and eagerto share the honour. The temptation to improve the opportunity, to anyman less strong than our hero, would have been irresistible, but therewas no display of vainglory, no cheap boasting. The sword of theconquered American general was accepted with manly deference and theconsideration due to his rank, and he was told, without solicitation onhis part, he could return to the United States on parole. Then Brockhurriedly dictated a brief and modest despatch apprising Sir GeorgePrevost of the "capture of this very important post, " and quiterealizing that he was merely an instrument in the hands of Providence, and gratitude and the happiness of those he held most dear beinguppermost in his mind, the captor of Detroit wrote this characteristicletter. 

 "Headquarters, Detroit, "August 16, 1812. 

 "My dear Brothers and Friends, --Rejoice at my good fortune and join me in prayers to heaven. I send you a copy of my hasty note to Sir George. Let me know that you are all united and happy. 

 "ISAAC. "

And so it came about that in this strange and noble fashion GeneralBrock--"Master Isaac of St. Peter's Port"--overcame the enemy in thewilds of Michigan and passed his _fourth_ milestone. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

CHAGRIN IN THE UNITED STATES. 

The conduct of the Indians under Tecumseh at Detroit had been marked bygreat heroism and strict adherence to their pledges. "The instant theenemy submitted, his life became sacred. " In recognition of Tecumseh'swork, and in the presence of the troops formed in the fort square, Brockhanded him his silver-mounted pistols, and taking off his sash, tied itround the body of the chief. 

A suspicion of a smile--the faint smile of elation of the well-trainedchild accepting a prize--flitted across the Indian's finely chiselledface as, proudly inclining his head, he silently took the crimson band. Then unwinding his own parti-colored, closely-woven Red River belt, "Would the great white _shemogonis_ (warrior), " he whispered, "acceptthe simple sash of the Shawanese in return?"

To this there was a sequel. The next day, when he bade Brock farewell, Tecumseh wore no sash. "Roundhead, " he explained, "was an older, anabler warrior than himself. While he was present he could not think ofwearing such a badge of distinction. " He had given the sash to theWyandotte chieftain. Tecumseh proved himself a greater diplomat thanHull. 

The papers of surrender signed, Brock hastened to liberate Dean, asoldier of the 41st, wounded and taken prisoner at the Canard river, with another man, while gallantly defending the bridge against a largebody of the enemy. In a voice broken with emotion Brock told him that hehad "nobly upheld the traditions of the service and was an honour to hisprofession. " Then he singled out Lieutenant Roulette, of the sloop_Hunter_, a French Canadian, who captured eighteen prizes during the warand was the leading spirit in many gallant events. "I watched you duringthe action, " said the General. "You behaved like a lion. I will rememberyou. " In the orders of that afternoon Brock praised the conduct of histroops. He laid stress upon the "discipline and determination that haddecided an enemy, infinitely more numerous in men and artillery, andprotected by a strong fortification, to propose capitulation. "

The effect of the news in Upper Canada was electrical. Brock became theidol of the people and was acclaimed "hero and saviour of Upper Canada. "His performance was a record one. In nineteen days he had met theLegislature, settled important public business, transported a small army300 miles, 200 of which was by open boat in stormy waters, compelled thesurrender of an enemy three times his strength, entrenched in aprotected fort, and seized 60, 000 square miles of United States mainlandand islands. 

To the American people the news came as a thunder-clap. PresidentMadison's chagrin was indescribable. After all the insulting remarks andbombastic prophecies of himself and Clay, Calhoun, Eustis and others, the humiliation was as gall and wormwood. Clay, the apostate, later onswallowed his words and signed the treaty of peace. Eustis, theSecretary of War, had boasted that he would "take the whole country andask no favours, for God has given us the power and the means. " But Godsaw fit to confound the despoiler. Hull was, of course, made ascapegoat. Tried by court-martial, he was found guilty of cowardice andneglect, and sentenced to death, but pardoned by the President. His sondied fighting at Lundy's Lane. The officers of Hull's command, who werealmost united in opposing surrender, as brave men felt their positionkeenly. Never let us forget that no one race holds a monopoly incourage, that no nation has exclusive control of the spirit ofpatriotism. Fortunate it is indeed for most of us that the loftierqualities of man can not be copyrighted by the individual. A share ofthese has been bestowed in wise proportion upon all members of the humanfamily. To those who seek to emulate the character and deeds of theworld's famous men, certain essential qualities of mind may even beacquired and developed by all, but to possess the "fullness ofperfection" cannot be the lot of every man. 

Having finished "the business" that took him to Detroit, our hero didnot waste an hour. Leaving Procter in command, he started before morningof the next day for Fort George, anxious to carry out his plans andassume the offensive on the Niagara frontier. 

He embarked in the _Chippewa_, a small trading schooner, with seventy ofthe Ohio Rifles as prisoners, and took, as a guard, a rifle companycommanded by his young friend, Captain Robinson, subsequently ChiefJustice Robinson, "again winning golden opinions from the men by hisurbanity. "

On Lake Erie he met the _Lady Prevost_, of fourteen guns, the commanderof which, after saluting the hero of Detroit with seventeen guns, boarded the _Chippewa_, handing him despatches that notified him of an_armistice_, which Sir George Prevost had actually concluded with theAmerican general, Dearborn, on August 9th! Brock's mortification wasprofound. His cherished plan, to sweep the Niagara frontier and destroythe United States naval arsenal at Sackett's Harbour, was againfrustrated. 

A diversion occurred that morning which for a time drove theunpardonable armistice from Brock's thoughts. A heavy mist hung over thewater. It hid the shore. Deceived by this, the skipper of the_Chippewa_, who thought he was in Fort Erie harbour, discovered, as thefog lifted, that they were on the American side and close to Buffalo. The situation was perilous and dramatic. With the melting of the hazethe wind dropped. Brock saw on the Buffalo shore, within easy hail, aconcourse of inquisitive people trying to make out the nationality ofhis ship. Believing the skipper, was in league with the enemy, Brockturned upon him savagely. 

"You scoundrel, " said he, "you have betrayed me. Let but one shot befired and I will run you up at the yard-arm. " Fortunately, the _QueenCharlotte_, in Canadian water, was seen and signalled, and, the windrising, she convoyed the _Chippewa_ and her precious passenger intosafety. 

The news of the armistice dumbfounded the General. Instead of batteringFort Niagara and attacking Sackett's Harbour, he had to order Procter tocancel the expedition for the relief of Fort Wayne, in the Wabashcountry, and himself hurry on to Fort George. At Chippewa he wasreceived with wild welcome by the river residents and the populace fromthe countryside. A deputation of prominent men met him at Queenston, placed him in an open carriage, and with martial music he was escortedin triumph to Fort George. After receiving at Niagara thecongratulations of the lady to whom he was engaged, Brock took schoonerfor York and Kingston. At both of these places fervid demonstrationswere showered upon him. But "Master Isaac's" head could not be turnedeither by success or adulation. The old spirit of self-effacementasserted itself. "The gallant band of brave men, " he said, "at whosehead I marched against the enemy, are the proper objects of yourgratitude. The services of the militia have been duly appreciated andwill never be forgotten. "

Isaac's modesty again served to increase the homage and profounddevotion of the people. 

Justice Powell voiced the views of the citizens of Upper Canada when hedeclared Brock could "boast of the most brilliant success, with the mostinadequate means, which history records. .. . It was something fabulousthat a handful of troops, supported by a few raw militia, could invadethe country of an enemy of doubtful numbers, in his own fortress, andmake all prisoners without the loss of a man. "

"If this sort of thing lasts, " commented our hero to a friend, "I amafraid I shall do some foolish thing, for if I know myself there is nowant of what is called courage in my nature, and I can only hope I shallnot be led into some scrape. "

[Illustration: VIEW OF QUEENSTON HEIGHTS AND BROCK'S MONUMENT]

CHAPTER XXII. 

PREVOST'S ARMISTICE. 

The armistice paralyzed Brock's movements. All the moral influence andmaterial advantage gained by the captures of Mackinaw and Detroit werenullified by this incredible blunder, for which no reason, military orcivil, has ever been assigned. The loyal volunteers were released fromduty. Brock's Indian allies returned to their villages. Prevost's policyof peace had become a mental malady. In spite of our hero's pleadings, and though Prevost actually knew, before the fall of Detroit, thatPresident Madison would not extend the two weeks' armistice, theGovernor-General forbade Brock attacking either Sackett's Harbour, thekey to American supremacy on the lakes, or Fort Niagara. 

"War, " wrote Prevost, "has never yet been declared by England. Peace ispossible. "

Brock, smarting under restraint and handcuffed by red tape, wascompelled to look on while the enemy brought up reinforcements, powder, shot, provisions and other munitions of war, by water to Lewiston. General Van Rensselaer, in command of the American forces at Lewiston, wrote to the President stating that by "keeping up a bold front he hadsucceeded in getting from General Sheaffe at Fort George theuninterrupted use of the lakes and rivers. " The strategic advantage tothe enemy of this cessation of hostilities and the privileges concededwas enormous. Prevost realized his error too late. The following year, conceiving it then to be his special mission to borrow our dead hero'spolicy, he attacked Sackett's Harbour, but his "cautious calculation"was, of course, rewarded by ignoble defeat, and ultimately, after thePlattsburg fiasco, by a court-martial. In his civil administration ofCanada Sir George Prevost may have been a success; as a soldier he was asad failure. 

Isaac was daily proving the truth of the precept, recognized by all mensooner or later, that life's values lie not so much in its victories asin its strife. 

Though Brock awoke after Detroit to find himself famous, and a herowhose prowess far exceeded that of his ancestor, the Jurat of the RoyalCourt of Guernsey, over whose exploits he used to ponder seated on theLion's Rock at Cobo, he was still the same "Master Isaac, " still the"beloved brother. " Separation from his kinsmen only served to draw himcloser. 

Crossing Lake Ontario gave him the opportunity he longed for. He wroteto his brothers collectively, telling them the sundry details of hissuccess, "which was beyond his expectation. " He hoped the affair wouldmeet with recognition at the War Office. Though admitting it was adesperate measure, he told them "it proceeded from a cool calculation ofthe _pros_ and _cons_, " and as Colonel Procter had opposed it, he wasnot surprised that envy now induced that officer "to attribute to goodfortune what in reality was the result of my own knowledge anddiscernment. " But praise and honours, though sweet to our hero, whoafter all was only mortal, were secondary to the fact that he would bein a position to contribute something to the comfort and happiness ofhis brothers. The value of the "treasure" captured at Detroit was placedat Ł40, 000. Brock's share of this was a substantial sum. 

"When I returned heaven thanks, " he wrote, "for my amazing success, Ithought of you all, your late sorrows forgotten, and I felt that themany benefits which for a series of years I received from you were notunworthily bestowed. " But the hope that they were reunited was alwaysthe dominant note. "Let me know, my dearest brothers, " he pleaded, "thatyou are all again united. " Then, out of his own knowledge, wrought ofdeep experience in the world's wide field, he proceeded: "The want ofunion was nearly losing this province, without even a struggle; restassured, it operates in the same degree in regard to families. "

Brock's despatches, with the story of the capture of Detroit and thecolours of the 4th Regiment, United States Army, the oriflamme of the"heroes of Tippecanoe, " reached London the morning of October 6th, theanniversary of his birth. His brother William resided close to the city. A tumultuous clangour of bells and booming of guns from St. James' Parkand the Tower of London rent the air. When asked by his wife the reasonfor the jubilation he jokingly replied, "Why, for Isaac, of course. Yousurely have not forgotten this is his birthday. " But William, onreaching the city, learned to his amazement that his jesting words weretrue. The salvoes of artillery and peals of bells were indeed in honourof General Brock's victory in far-off Michigan. 

Neither King nor Imperial Government was slow to recognize our hero'sachievements. The Prince Regent, who expressed his appreciation ofBrock's "able, judicious and decisive conduct, " bestowed upon him an_extra_ knighthood of the Order of the Bath, in consideration, so ranthe document, "of all the difficulties with which he was surroundedduring the invasion of the Province, and the singular judgment, firmness, skill and courage with which he surmounted them soeffectually. "

When the glittering insignia of his new rank reached Canada, Sir IsaacBrock's eyes were closed in death. His inanimate body, from which one ofthe noblest souls of the century had fled, lay rigid in itswinding-sheet at Fort George. 

To Major Glegg, who bore the General's despatches from Canada, thePrince Regent remarked that "General Brock had done more in an hour thancould have been done in six months by negotiation. " The fulfilment ofIsaac's favourite maxim, "Say and do, " was being demonstrated in a mostremarkable manner. 

[Illustration: "PORTRAIT OF MAJOR-GENERAL BROCK, 18 X 6"]

CHAPTER XXIII. 

"HERO, DEFENDER, SAVIOUR. "

General Sheaffe, the only field officer available, and junior colonel ofthe 49th, of whom the reader has already heard, had been brought fromthe East to take command at Niagara in Brock's absence. Like Prevost, hewas born in Boston, Massachusetts, in 1763, a son of the deputycollector of that port. There the two had been school-fellows, and bothfound it difficult to engage in vigorous diplomatic or military conflictwith the Americans. To Sheaffe's credit, it should be said that heapplied for another station. 

It was Sheaffe, however, who acceded to General Dearborn's speciousdemand that the _freedom of the lakes and rivers_ be extended to theUnited States Government during the armistice. This was done while Brockwas in the West. Sheaffe it also was who, with hat in hand and strangealacrity, later agreed, despite his first terrible blunder, to repeatthe offence. On the very afternoon that the British defeated theAmericans at Queenston, and when the moral effect of that victory, followed up by vigorous attack, would have saved Canada from acontinuance of the war, and deplorable loss of life and trade, Sheaffeactually agreed to another armistice. For this _second_ truce, like hisfirst, "no valid reason, military or civil, has ever been assigned. " Asfar as the British were concerned, neither of these two was necessary, but, on the contrary, directly to their disadvantage. Isaac Brock, alas! was not made in duplicate. 

Our hero remained but a few hours in Kingston. He was needed in Niagara. The enemy was burning to avenge Detroit. The sight of Hull's raggedlegions passing as prisoners of war along the Canadian bank of theriver, bound for Montreal, did not tend to soften the hearts of theAmericans. Stores and ordnance continued to pour into Lewiston. Brockneeded 1, 000 additional regulars. He might as well have asked for themoon. Early in September he stated that if he could maintain hisposition six weeks longer "the campaign would end in a manner littleexpected in the States. " Scores of American marines and seamen weremarking time, waiting for the launching of the vessels which CaptainChauncey had been given free license to build to ensure United Statessupremacy of the lakes. Prevost's eyes were still bandaged. Brock warnedhis grenadiers of the 49th to be ready for trouble. He foresaw that theNiagara river would be crossed, but at what point was uncertain. Straymusket-balls whistled across at night as thick as whip-poor-wills insummer. This firing was "the unauthorized warfare between sentinels. "The peaceful citizens of Newark, returning from dance orcard-party--even the imminence of war did not wholly stifle their desirefor innocent revelry--found it embarrassing. 

Though Van Rensselaer's force now numbered 6, 300 men, he was stillafraid to attack Brock. Invited by the United States Government to takeup arms, 400 Seneca Indians "went upon the war-path, " and performedghost-dances on the streets of Lewiston. Prevost, with no properconception of the doctrine of "what we have we hold, " ordered Brock to"evacuate Detroit and the territory of Michigan. " To "the man behind thegun, " who had but just donated this 60, 000 square miles of realty to theEmpire, such instructions were hardly to his taste. Armed with powers ofdiscretion, our hero declined. Meanwhile Isaac's heart was sore. Thesituation was galling. If there was to be no more fighting, why shouldhe not get his release, join Wellington in Portugal, and renounceCanada? Unrest and vigilance best describe the order of his days, whilewaiting attack. The death of the ever-attentive Dobson, who had passedaway before Brock's departure for Detroit, and the absence of thefaithful sergeant-major--now Adjutant FitzGibbon--distressed him. In anattempt by General Brown to capture some British batteaux at TousaintIsland, on the St. Lawrence, the Americans had been repulsed by Brock'sgallant protégé. 

Everything now pointed to an early attack by the enemy in force. GeneralVan Rensselaer, with an ascertained army of at least 6, 300, of which2, 600 were militia, wrote that he "would cross the river in the rear ofFort George, take it by storm, carry the Heights of Queenston, destroythe British ships--the _Prince Regent_ and _Earl Moira_--at the mouth ofthe river, leave Brock no rallying point, appal the minds of theCanadians, and wipe away the past disgrace. "

On one of his visits to Fort George he had remarked to Brock, who hadlaughingly pointed out two beautiful brass howitzers taken from GeneralWayne, "Oh, yes, they are old friends of mine; I must take them back. "They were not taken back in Brock's time. Even with his grand army of6, 300, his 400 Seneca braves, and his written admission that Niagara wasweakly garrisoned, it is certain Van Rensselaer would have still delayedattack, unless he had been told by his spies that Brock had returned toDetroit. Then, with valour oozing from his finger tips, he plucked upcourage to attack the lair in the lion's absence. 

At this juncture an untoward event occurred, in the re-taking by theAmericans of the brig _Detroit_, formerly the United States brig_Adams_--captured, as we know, by Roulette--and the trading brig_Caledonia_. They were at anchor at the head of the Niagara River, offBlack Rock. The irregular regiments of Hull's command, under the termsof surrender, were on board on their way to their Ohio homes, via LakeErie and Buffalo. The two vessels reached Fort Erie harbour safely, andbeing rightly regarded by the British as immune from attack, were leftundefended, in charge of an officer and nine men only, most of whom werevoyageurs. In addition to the prisoners, the two brigs carried greatquantities of fur and 600 packs of deer skins. During darknessLieutenant Ellis, with three armed boats and 150 United States troopsand sailors, dropped alongside. Roulette and his nine men foughtdesperately, one being killed and four wounded, but both vessels, ofcourse, fell into the enemy's hands. This attack was contrary to therules of war, and a violation of the sanctity of the flag which"continued to float as long as there were American prisoners on board, awaiting to be landed on United States soil. "

Brock regarded this loss as a calamity. It was, he wrote to Prevost, "likely to reduce him to great distress. " His constant fears that theenemy would secure control of both Lakes Erie and Ontario were wellfounded. He begged Prevost to let him destroy the vessels Chauncey, theAmerican, was building on Squaw Island. Prevost, of course, besought himto forbear. Isaac Brock, exasperated and with tied hands, was "doomed tothe bitterest of all griefs, to see clearly and yet be able to donothing. " Yet while he worked in chains his preparedness was a source ofwonder to those behind the scenes. 

Even no less a critic than John Lovett, General Van Rensselaer'smilitary secretary, was impressed with what he saw through hisfield-glasses from Lewiston heights. "Every three or four miles, onevery eminence, " he wrote a friend, "Brock has erected a snug battery, the last saucy argument of kings, poking their white noses and roundblack nostrils right upon your face, ready to spit fire and brimstone inyour very teeth, if you were to offer to turn squatter on John Bull'sland. " Influenced by these signs of "business, " the United Statesofficers were ordered to "dress as much like their men as possible, sothat at 150 yards they might not be recognized. " This was probably dueto one of the last orders issued by our hero, who warned his men that, when the enemy crossed the river, to withhold their musketry fire untilhe was well within range, and then, "if he lands, attack him at thepoint of the bayonet with determined resolution. "

With clairvoyance that would have done credit to a mind-reader, Brockknew that attack was imminent. To him the wind that blew across theriver October 12th was laden with omens of war. The air seemed chargedwith the acrid smell of burnt powder. The muffled beat of drums, thesmothered boom of artillery, the subdued clash of steel meeting steel, the stealthy tramp of armed men, seemed to encompass him. 

 * * * * *

Brock was at his headquarters. He gazed from the window. The stormoutside was hurling great splashes of rain against the narrow casement. To and fro, over the carpeted floor, he paced that evening for an houror more, uninterrupted and alone. It was thus he marshalled facts andweighed conclusions. Powerful brain and vigorous frame acted in concert. He was enjoying the fulfilment of the promise of his youth. God had beengood. The world had been tolerant; his fellow-men--at least those whoknew the real Isaac--loyally appreciative. The knowledge of his honoursand fame stirred him to his soul. Not that he was any better, or abler, he meditated, than other men, but that when "opportunity" offered he waspermitted to grasp it. 

 "For every day I stand outside your door, And bid you wake and rise to fight and win. "

The influence of the great truth as pronounced in the now familiarcouplet inspired him. He recognized the source whence he derivedwhatever of success had followed his efforts, and prayed for greatersagacity, more vigour of body and tenacity of purpose, a completesurrender of self to the task before him; that if his life was to bethe price of duty, he might place it on the altar of his country withoutone shred of compunction. 

 * * * * *

He rang the bell for Porter--his body-servant since Dobson'sdeath--directed him to see that the council room was lighted, that pens, ink, paper and cigars were in place, as a meeting of his staff wasslated for nine, and sought his sanctum. 

[Illustration: POWDER MAGAZINE, FORT GEORGE, NIAGARA]

CHAPTER XXIV. 

BROCK'S LAST COUNCIL. 

It was long past midnight on the morning of Tuesday, October 13th, 1812, when Brock dismissed his advisory council of staff officers. An animateddiscussion had taken place over the strength of the enemy and the spothe might select to cross the river, for ruses had been resorted to byVan Bensselaer to deceive the British. 

"I dare not, gentlemen, " said our hero, in opening the debate, "weakenmy flanks at Niagara and Erie, though I realize I am leaving Queenstonnot properly protected. I have just learned that General Dearborn statesthat while 'Tippecanoe' Harrison invades Canada, at Detroit, with 7, 000men--I do not think it necessary I should point out Detroit on the map, "he added with a smile--"and while a United States squadron--not aBritish one, mark you--sweeps Lake Ontario from Sackett's Harbour, Dearborn himself will threaten Montreal from Lake Champlain. While theeast and the west are thus being annexed by the enemy, our friend VanRensselaer is to entertain us here. 

"An ordinary boat, as we all know, can be rowed across the river atQueenston in less than ten minutes. Our spies have reported that fortybatteaux, to carry forty men each, are in readiness at Tonawanda. Evansand Macdonell, when they called on Van Rensselaer, saw at least a dozenboats moored at Lewiston, some of which could carry eighty men. Duringthe deplorable armistice, as General Sheaffe is aware"--looking at thatofficer--"Van Rensselaer brought up 400 boats and batteaux fromOgdensburg and other points, all of his previously blockaded fleet, sothe enemy has no lack of transport. The most effective disposition ofour limited force is, I admit, somewhat of a problem. There is no use inevading the fact that in point of numbers and ordnance we are too weak, and as Sir George Prevost has written me not to expect any further aid, Colonel Talbot must send us a few of his militia. "

"Macdonell, " he said, turning to his aide, "will you write at once, to-night, to Colonel Talbot, at Port Talbot, stating that I am stronglyinduced to believe I will soon be attacked, and tell him that I wish himto send 200 men, the militia under his command, without delay, by waterto Fort Erie. "

This was Brock's last official letter dictated in council. 

"General Sheaffe, " he said, addressing that officer, "you, perhaps, knowbetter than any of us the particulars of Van Rensselaer's appointment. It seems that he is an amateur soldier, pitchforked into command againsthis own will, a victim of New York State politics. While this isprobably so, we must not run away with the idea that his other officersare no better, for, besides Generals Dearborn and Wadsworth--bothsoldiers of national repute--his cousin, Colonel Solomon Van Rensselaer, his chief of staff, is a first-class soldier, a proved fighting man. Thelatter is reported to be at the head of 750 well-trained militia, 300 ofwhom are selected soldiers, and fifty are said to know every inch of theriver. Our spies report the enemy could ferry 1, 500 regulars across inseven trips. 

"The safety of our redan on the Heights has given me some concern, butDennis, Williams and others report that the height is inaccessible fromthe river side. If an attack in force is made at Queenston, we will haveto concentrate every available man there--at the risk of weakening ourflanks. Lewiston, as you have seen, is white with tents. At Fort Graythe enemy has two twenty-four-pounders, waiting to silence oureighteen-pounder in the redan. The Americans have several mortars andsix-pounders on the river bank below Lewiston, ready to ship to anypoint by boats specially equipped, or to cover the landing of theirtroops on our side of the river, and to drive us back if we attempt todispute their passage. "

In district general orders prepared that night, the last officialdocument signed by General Sir Isaac Brock, he directed, "in view of theimminence of hostilities, that no further communication be held with theenemy by flag of truce, or otherwise, unless by his special permission. "

"I cannot allow looting, " he said. "Arms and other property taken fromthe enemy are to be at all times reserved for the public service. "Brock's example might have been followed to advantage in later Canadiancampaigns. "I am calling, " he continued, "a district court-martial fornine o'clock to-morrow morning, October 13th, for the trial of threeprisoners, a captain and two subalterns of the 49th and 41st regiments. "

That court-martial was not held. 

On the day before, Major Evans and Colonel Macdonell had waited upon VanRensselaer, with a letter from Brock proposing "an exchange ofprisoners of war, to be returned immediately, on parole. " The fact of noreply having been received to this, Brock regarded as ominous. 

"I firmly believe, gentlemen, " he proceeded, and his confidence andcourage was infectious, "that I could at this moment, by a sudden dash, sweep everything before me between Fort Niagara and Buffalo, but oursuccess would be transient. Disaffection and desertion is rife in theAmerican camp. Only the other day we saw six poor fellows perish inmid-stream. To-day more deserters swam the river safely. Our own force, estimating even 200 Indians under Chief Brant and Captain Norton, thoughI expect less than 100 would be nearer the mark, cannot exceed 1, 500 menof all arms. These units I have collected from Sandwich to Kingston. Many of our men, as no one knows better than Quartermaster Nichol, havereceived no pay, are wearing broken shoes--some have no shoes at all--notents and little bedding. It is true that they bear the cold and wetwith an admirable and truly happy content that excites my admiration, but it is no less a disgrace to the responsible authorities. Sir GeorgePrevost, as you know, has told me 'not to expect any further aid'--theold parrot cry from headquarters, 'Not a man to spare. ' Let me ask thechief of the Mohawks, who is present, how many warriors he can muster?"

John Brant, or _Thayendanegea_, as he was known among the Six NationIndians, was the hereditary chief. At this time he was but a youth ofeighteen--a graceful, dauntless stripling, of surprising activity, andwell educated. At his side sat Captain Jacobs, a swarthy, stalwartbrave, famous for his immense strength, and Captain John Norton, anEnglishman, and chief by adoption only, who, in consideration of Brant'syouth, was acting as his deputy and spokesman. The latter said thatsince his return from Moraviantown, and the hunting season havingcommenced, many of his braves were absent, but he would pledge theMohawks would muster, when wanted, over one hundred tried men. Thankingthe chiefs for their assurances, Brock continued:

"The enemy has an army of over 6, 000. The four twelve-pounders and twohundred muskets captured with the _Detroit_ is a serious loss to us. Ifthe _Detroit_ is lost to us, however, she is of no further use to theenemy. We are, I repeat, greatly outweighted and outnumbered by theenemy, both in siege guns and artillery, and have no forge for heatingshot. I have, as a matter of form, written this day to Sir GeorgePrevost, restating my anxiety to increase our militia to 2, 000 men, butpointing out the difficulties I shall encounter, and the fear that Ishall not be able to effect my object with willing, well-disposedcharacters. Of one thing, gentlemen, I am convinced, that were it notfor the number of Americans in our ranks we might defy all the effortsof the enemy against this part of the Province. 

"As to 'forbearance, ' which I am constantly urged by Sir George Prevostto adopt, you are entitled to my views. While forbearance may beproductive of some good, I gravely doubt the wisdom of such a policy;but, let me add, I may not, perhaps, have the means of judgingcorrectly. We cannot, however, disguise the fact we are standingalongside a loaded mine. Let us be prepared for the explosion. It maycome at any moment. Vigilance, readiness and promptness must be ourwatchwords. Might I ask you to remember my family motto, 'He who guardsnever sleeps. ' Even to-morrow may bring surprises--such stormy weatheras we are having seems strangely suitable for covering an attack. 

"I think, gentlemen, if we weigh well the character of our enemy, weshall find him disposed to brave the impediments of nature--when theyafford him a probability of gaining his end by _surprise_, in preferenceto the certainty of meeting British troops _ready formed for hisreception_. But do not, because we were successful at Detroit instampeding the United States troops, cherish the impression that GeneralHull is a sample of American soldiery. If we _are_ taken by surprise theattack will soon be known, for our range of beacons extends from theSugar Loaf to Queenston, from Lundy's Lane to Pelham Heights. Signalguns, also, will announce any suspicious movement. One word inconclusion. As soldiers you know your duty, and I think you now allunderstand the position we are in--as far as I know it. 

"General Sheaffe, " he continued, turning to that officer, "I am muchconcerned as to the fate of this town, Niagara, if its namesake fort onthe other side of the river should be tempted to forget the rules of warand bombard the private buildings here with hot-shot. However, we willdo our best to give the invaders, when they do come, a warm reception. There are two things, Major, " looking towards Evans, his brigade-majorand intimate friend, "that our men must not omit to observe, namely, to'trust God and keep their powder dry, ' a most necessary precaution ifthese storms continue. "

 * * * * *

It is worthy of note that while Brock was in conference with his staff, expecting invasion any day, General Van Rensselaer, at Lewiston, waswriting the subjoined brief historical despatch to hisbrigadier-general, Smythe:

 "Sir, --To-night, October 12th, I shall attack the enemy's batteries on the Heights of Queenston. "

 * * * * *

The weather was tempestuous. Rain clouds shrouded the Heights ofQueenston in a black pall. The wind romped and rioted in the foliage. Brock's estimate of the character of the enemy was a masterly one. VanRensselaer was about to verify our hero's prediction. 

[Illustration: BROCK'S MIDNIGHT GALLOP]

CHAPTER XXV. 

THE MIDNIGHT GALLOP. 

Well into the half-light of morning, long after the last of his staff, Evans, Glegg and Macdonell, had departed, Brock sat alone at hisheadquarters at Fort George, writing rapidly. 

On the oak mantel, an antique clock chimed the passing of the historichours, with deep, musical strokes. 

Was it presentiment--a clearer understanding that comes to men of activebrain and acute perception, during solitary vigil in the silence ofnight, when, with heart and soul stripped, they stand on the thresholdof the great divide--that whispered to this "knight of the sword" hisdoom? Was it this clearer comprehension that caused our hero to bow hishead as a faint message from an unseen messenger reached him? With asigh of resignation he arose from the unfinished manuscript and passedon to his bedroom. 

 * * * * *

Boom! Boom! Boom!

 * * * * *

A muffled, indistinct roar, a confusion of sounds, aroused thehalf-conscious sleeper. Brock sprang from his couch, partly dressed. 

The antique clock chimed one--two--three!

"Listen, " he muttered to himself, "that was not a signal gun. Surely itwas the sound of sustained firing. " As he unlocked the outer door, opening on the barrack-square, the sky above faintly aglow with thelight of warning beacons, the low, steady roll of musketry and louderroar of distant cannon convinced him that this was far more serious than"the war between sentries. "

"My good Porter, " he said, speaking calmly to his excited servant, who, himself awakened, came rushing to his master, "have Alfred saddled atonce while I complete dressing, and inform Major Glegg and ColonelMacdonell that I am off up the river to Queenston. "

In another minute Isaac Brock was in the saddle. 

As he passed through the gates, thrown open by the sentry, a dragoon, mire from head to foot from furious riding, handed him a despatchannouncing that the enemy had landed in force at Queenston. A secondlater, in response to the pressure of his knees, his horse was carryingour hero at a wild gallop across the common that separated his quartersfrom the upper village. 

Day was near to breaking. The earth steamed from the heavy rain. Passingobjects rose out of the dark mists, magnified and spectral. 

At the residence of Captain John Powell, Brock reined up. The householdwas astir, aroused by the ominous roar of artillery carried down by theriver from the gorge above. He stayed, without dismounting, long enoughto take a cup of coffee brought to him by General Shaw's daughter--a"stirrup cup"--his last. Then, giving his charger the spur, he rode awayto death and distinction, tenderly waving a broken good-bye to thesad-eyed woman at the porch. This was his betrothed, who faintlyfluttered her kerchief in weeping farewell to the gallant lover shewould never see again. 

Brushing his eyes and urging his big grey to greater speed, "MasterIsaac, " eager to reach the scene of trouble, struck across the village, his horse's hoof-beats bringing many a citizen to the door to "God speedhim. " Some came out to follow him, and many a good wife's face waspressed to the window to watch "The General! God bless and spare him, "as he headed his charger for the Queenston Road and Brown's Point. Amongthe more zealous hastening after Brock were Judge Ralph Clench and a fewold half-pay officers of His Majesty's service, who hurried to Queenstonto range themselves in the ranks of the volunteers. Others joined as thesignal guns and the bells of the church of St. Mark's and thecourt-house spread the alarm. 

His road lay up hill. Seven miles back from the shore of Lake Ontariostretched the height of land, extending west from the river to the headof the lake--a gigantic natural dam, over 300 feet high and twenty milesthrough; a retaining wall of rock, the greatest original fresh-water_barrage_ in the world. 

He paused a moment at Frields to order the militia company there tofollow. Close to Brown's Point he met another galloper, S. P. Jarvis, ofthe York volunteers, who was riding so furiously that he could not checkhis horse, but shouted as he flew by, "The Americans are crossing theriver in force, sir. " Jarvis wheeled and overtook the General, who, without reining up, slackened his speed sufficiently to tell the ridernot to spare his horse, but to hurry on to Fort George and order GeneralSheaffe to bring up his entire reserve and let loose Brant's Indianscouts. A mile or so farther on, Jarvis met Colonel Macdonell, in hotpursuit of their beloved commander. The aide, in his haste, had left hissword behind him, and borrowed a less modern sabre from Jarvis, whocontinued his mad gallop towards Fort George, little thinking he hadseen the last of his gallant General and the dashing aide, meeting, afew minutes later, Major Glegg, also riding post haste to overtake theGeneral. 

Meanwhile our hero had halted for a moment at Brown's Point, only tolearn that Cameron's Toronto company of volunteers had already started, on their own initiative, up the river. Riding hard, he overtook theexcited militiamen. Speaking a word to the officer in charge, he wheeledhis horse in the direction of the Heights, calling upon the detachmentin his well-known voice, and in a way that never failed to exactobedience:

"Now, my men, follow me. "

 * * * * *

The east showed signs of approaching day, and Brock, only two miles fromQueenston, was treated to a spectacle that quickened his pulses. Shellswere bursting on the mountain side above the village. The shadows of thedying night were streaked with the light from an incessant fire ofsmall-arms. Grapeshot and musket-balls were ploughing up inky river andgrim highland. At Vrooman's battery, on Scott's Point, guarded byHeward's volunteer company from Little York, and some of Hatt's companyof the 5th Lincoln militia, a mile from Queenston, the twenty-four-poundshells from the gun, mounted _en barbette_, which commanded at longrange both landings, were leaving behind them furrows of fire in theblack gorge. The big gun was pouring a continuous stream of destructivemetal upon the American boats that were attempting the passage of theriver within the limited zone of its fire. [3]

Fort Gray, above Lewiston, was fairly belching flames, to which theisolated eighteen-pounder on the Queenston redan was roaring an angryand defiant response. Brock's trained ear recognized the wicked barkingof the brass six-pounders, under Dennis of the 49th, mingling with theoccasional boom, of the twenty-four-pound carronade below the village. 

The village of Queenston consisted of a small stone-barracks and twentyor more scattered dwellings in the midst of gardens and orchards. ToBrock's right a road from the landing led to St. David's, from which, atalmost right angles, an irregular branch roadway wound up the Heights. The adjacent table-land west of the village was dotted with farm-houses, partly surrounded by snake-fences and an occasional stone wall. 

Above Vrooman's he was joined by his two aides. Here he met a few men, shockingly torn and bleeding, crawling to the houses for shelter, andquite a number of prisoners, and was told that the enemy was routed. Allkilled or taken prisoners! Very skeptical, but increasing his speed, ourhero rode into the village, and, though stained and splashed with mudfrom stirrup to cockade, he was recognized, and welcomed by the men ofthe 49th with a ringing cheer. 

FOOTNOTE:

[3] This gun is credited with having fired 160 shots during theengagement. 

[Illustration: BATTLE OF QUEENSTON HEIGHTS. From an old Print]

CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE ATTACK ON THE REDAN. 

Checking his reeking horse for a moment, Brock acknowledged with a smilethe salute, saying to the men who had leaped to his side, "Take breath, my good fellows; you will need all you have, and more, in a fewminutes, " words which evoked much cheering. Then he breasted the rise ata canter, exposed to a galling enfilading fire of artillery, and runningthe gauntlet of the sniping of some invisible marksmen, reached theredan, half-way to the summit. Here he dismounted, threw his charger'sreins to a gunner, and entered the enclosure. 

 * * * * *

From the loftier elevation of the Heights a still more striking sceneconfronted him. He saw, in the yellow light, battalion after battaliondrawn up in rear of the Lewiston batteries, across the river, only twohundred yards wide at this point, awaiting embarkation. Other soldiershe saw crouching in the batteaux on the river, while an unknown numberhad already crossed and were in possession of Queenston landing. Roundand grape shot from the American batteries were searching the banks andscourging the village, while shells from mortars at short range camesinging across the river. He saw a boat with fifteen American soldierssmashed in mid-stream by a six-pounder from Dennis's battery, andwatched the mangled bodies drift into the gloom. 

 * * * * *

Having surveyed the position rapidly, ignorant of the concealedmovements of the American troops, Brock at a first glance pronounced thesituation favorable. 

The crest of the Heights was wooded densely. The leaves still clung tothe trees in all the spangled glory of autumn, and the thickets affordedfar too safe cover for the American sharpshooters. In answer to hisinquiry, Williams, in charge of the light company of the 49th, told himthat at least 350 United States regulars and 250 militia must alreadyhave been ferried over. In the chilling gray of dawn, four boats, filledwith armed men, had been seen crossing the river, which here had afour-mile current. The head of a column had also been seen above theriver bank at the Queenston landing. The soldiers from the threebatteaux, previously landed below Hamilton's garden, had already beenmet by Dennis's men, who had killed several and captured others. Later, more boats had come ashore, knocked out of commission by Vrooman's biggun and the six-pounders. Their crews had surrendered. Some of theseBrock had met. Many more, however, had landed safely, hidden by theshadows, and were doubtless then awaiting a chance to emerge fromambush. 

In answer to Brock's question as to whether there was a chance of theHeight being scaled direct from the river, Williams repeated what he hadalready reported at the council meeting, that the scouts insisted thatthe Heights could not be climbed from the landing. The cliffs, overthree hundred feet high, rose almost vertically from the water, and thedenseness of the shrubs, tangle and overhanging trees, anchored in theclefts, rendered it impossible for any but exceptionally active andresolute men, and then only as a forlorn hope, to reach the summit. Projecting ledges of rock also blocked the way. A large body of men hadbeen seen before daybreak stealing across the foot-hills, but had evadedpursuit. He believed they had fled to the Black Swamp, four milesdistant. 

Seeing that Dennis needed every possible support at the landing, Brockordered Williams and his men to proceed to his assistance, and on thelatter's departure our hero and his aides were left alone with the eightgunners. 

 * * * * *

The rain was gradually ceasing. Shafts of light from an unseen suntinged the edges of the smoke-coloured clouds with amber and rose. A fewspent musket-balls falling about the enclosure aroused Brock'ssuspicions. He was watching, from behind the earthen parapet, the flightof the shells discharged by the eighteen-pounder, and, seeing that theyburst too soon, turned to the gunner. 

"Sergeant, you are misjudging your time and distance; we must not wastepowder and shot. Your shells are bursting too soon. Try a longer fuse. "

The words were barely out of our hero's mouth when there was a rollingcrash of musketry, accompanied by wild shouts, and a shower of bulletsflew zipping over their heads. Shooting high is the invariableshortcoming of excited marksmen. A moment later the heads of a largeforce of American riflemen rose from the rocky ambuscade above andbehind them. The next instant the enemy was in full charge, evidentlybent on capturing both the General and the redan. 

Brock saw that resistance would be madness. To save the gun and escapecapture must be the "double event. " Seizing a ramrod, he ordered anartilleryman to spike the gun, gave the command to retreat, telling themen to "duck their heads, " fearing another discharge, and, leading hishorse, followed by Macdonell and Glegg and the firing squad of eightartillerymen, rushed down the slope. 

 * * * * *

For a clearer understanding of the situation--a better conception eventhan our hero had when, to escape capture and save the lives of his men, he was compelled to abandon the redan--we must visit Van Rensselaer'scamp at Lewiston. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

VAN RENSSELAER'S CAMP. 

After midnight, on the morning of the 11th, the American general, VanRensselaer, believing, as he wrote, "that Brock, with all his disposableforces, had left for Detroit, " launched from the Lewiston landing, undercover of the pitch darkness, thirteen boats capable of carrying 340armed men. 

To Lieutenant Sims, "the man of the greatest skill in the Americanservice, " was entrusted the command. Sims entered the leading boat, andvanished in the gloom. Whether he had taken all the oars with him, asreported, or whether the furious storm and the sight of the whirlingblack waters had frozen the hearts of the troops, must remain a mystery. The other boats did not follow. 

Meanwhile, 350 additional regulars and thirty boats had arrived fromFour Mile Creek. Flying artillery came from Fort Niagara, with stillmore regulars, and part of Smythe's brigade from Buffalo. Troops, asBrock's spies had truly reported, now overflowed the United States armyheadquarters--three more complete regiments from New York and anotherfrom Fort Schlosser. Lewiston bristled with bayonets. The entireexpeditionary force was in command of Colonel Solomon Van Rensselaer, amilitiaman, between whom and the officers commanding the regular troopsmuch jealousy and great friction existed. Both branches of the servicewere determined to monopolize whatever credit might ensue. A storm, more furious than ever, prevailed for twenty-eight hours. The men sulkedin their tents. 

On the night of the 12th, the storm having abated, though the sky wasblack as ink, added numbers having developed greater courage, VanRensselaer resolved on another attempt. He secretly notifiedBrigade-Major Smythe, in command at Buffalo, that in accordance with theletter reproduced in a previous chapter, he would storm the Heights ofQueenston that night. With experienced river men as pilots, with pickedcrews, and protected by the big guns at Fort Gray, 600 men, with twopieces of light artillery, in thirteen boats, in the grim darkness ofthe morning of the 13th--a sinister coincidence--drew up in silence onthe wharf. They comprised the first detachment of 850 regulars and 300militia, the advance attacking party--"the flower of Wadsworth'sarmy"--embarked to "carry the Heights of Queenston and appal the mindsof Canadians. "

Let us trace the fulfilling of Van Rensselaer's boast. 

The regulars crossed first, almost out of the line of fire of theBritish batteries, and under cover of six of the enemy's field-guns thatcompletely commanded the Canadian shore. Some of the boats of thisflotilla effected, as we know, a landing above the rock, still visibleat the water's edge, under the suspension bridge. Here they disembarkedtheir fighting men--the 13th regulars and some artillery--and, under VanRensselaer, attempted to form. The empty boats recrossed the river toferry over more soldiers. 

 * * * * *

A sentry of the 49th--our hero's regiment--overheard voices and trampingof feet. Scenting danger, he ran, without firing, to alarm the mainguard. 

In a few minutes Dennis advanced upon the landing place with forty-sixmen of his own company and a few militia, and discharged a murderousvolley, leaving Colonel Van Rensselaer, with eight officers andforty-five men, killed or wounded. The enemy retreated to the water'sedge for shelter, confused and shivering. The Lewiston batteries at onceopened fire on the redan on Queenston Heights. The position of Dennisbeing thus revealed to Dearborn's gunners, they immediately turned theirbattery of six field-pieces upon his handful of men, and the positionproving untenable, he withdrew to the shelter of the village, on the lipof the hill, still continuing to fire downwards on the invaders. 

Vrooman's battery then opened fire, and Crowther brought his two"grasshoppers"--small three-pounders--to sweep the road leading to theriver. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A FOREIGN FLAG FLIES ON THE REDAN. 

It was the crackling of the grenadiers' muskets, the bellowing ofVrooman's big gun, the cannonade of the twenty-four-pounders of theLewiston batteries, the roar of the eighteen-pounder in the Britishredan, and the streak of crimson light from the long line of beaconswhich rent the sky from Fort Erie to Pelham Heights, that had wakenedthe citizens of Niagara and aroused Brock from his brief repose. 

Captain Wool, of the 13th U. S. Regulars--Van Rensselaer being wounded insix places--hurried his men under the shelter of the overhanging rocks, keeping up an intermittent fire, and waited for reinforcements. Foralmost two hours this desultory firing continued. With the cessation ofthe storm and arrival of broad daylight, six more boats attempted toreach the Queenston landing. One boat was sunk by a discharge of grapefrom Dennis's howitzer; another, with Colonel Fenwick, of the U. S. Artillery, was swept below the landing to a cove where, in the attack byCameron's volunteers that followed, Fenwick, terribly wounded, was, withmost of his men, taken prisoner. Another boat drifted under Vrooman's, and was captured there, while others, more fortunate, landed twoadditional companies of the 13th, forty artillerymen and some militia. The shouts of the fighters and screams of the wounded were heard by thehundreds of spectators who were parading the river bank at Lewiston, allready to witness "the humiliation of Canada. "

General Van Rensselaer had commanded that the "Heights had to be taken. "Wool, a gallant soldier, only twenty-three, suffering from a bullet thathad passed through both his thighs--no superior officer coming to hissupport--volunteered for the duty. He expressed his eagerness to makethe attempt. Gansfort, a brother officer of Wool's, had been shown by ariver guide a narrow, twisting trail, used at times by fishermen, leading to the summit. This he pointed out to Wool as a possible pathwayto the Heights, where a force of determined men might gain the rear ofthe British position. Wool, at the same time, had also been informedthat Williams, hitherto on the Heights, had been ordered to descend thehill to assist Dennis--which was Brock's first command on reaching theredan. Followed by Van Rensselaer's aide, who had orders "to shoot everyman who faltered, " Wool at once commenced the ascent, leaving onehundred of his men to protect the landing. 

Picked artillerymen led the way. Concealed by rock and thicket, andunobserved by the British--the trail being regarded as impassable--theyreached the hill-top, only thirty yards in rear of the solitary gun inthe redan. The noise of their movements was drowned by the crash of thebatteries, which reduced Hamilton's stone house to ruins and droveCrowther and his small gun out of range. The shells from the enemy'smortars rained upon the village, and his field-pieces subjected thegardens and orchards of Queenston to a searching inquisition. 

On reaching the summit, Wool, when the last straggler had arrived, formed his men, without losing a minute, and emerging from ambush, fireda badly-aimed volley at the astonished Brock and his eight gunners, andwith a wild shout rushed down upon the redan. 

 * * * * *

When the United States flag was raised over the gun, which Wool, to hisdeep chagrin, found spiked, the troops at Lewiston realized that thebattery had been taken. Their courage returning, they rushed to theboats below, hoping to participate in a victory which, while hitherto aquestion in their minds, now seemed beyond all doubt. 

Brock, on regaining the bottom of the slope, seeing that the main attackwas to be made at Queenston, sent Captain Derenzy with a despatch toSheaffe at Fort George. 

"Instruct Major Evans, " he wrote, "to turn every available gun on FortNiagara, silence its batteries, and drive out the enemy, for I requireevery fighting man here; and if you have not already done so, forwardthe battalion companies of the 41st and the flank companies of militia, and join me without delay. "

Mounting his horse, he galloped to the far end of the village. Here heheld a hurried consultation with the few officers present, anddespatched Macdonell to Vrooman's to bring up Heward's Little Yorkvolunteers at the double. He then instructed Glegg to order Dennis, withthe light company of the 49th, less than fifty strong, and Chisholm'scompany of the York militia, to join him, and also to recall Williamsand his detachment. When these arrived he took command. 

"Captain Williams, " said he, "how many men do you muster?"

"Seventy, sir, of all ranks, " replied Williams; "forty-nine grenadiersand Captain Chisholm's company of volunteers. "

"We must make the attempt, then, " said the General, "to turn the enemy'sleft flank on the Heights, and this can only be done by a round-aboutway. " Then, as Dennis joined him, he said, with a shade of vexation onhis face, "It is a waste of time lamenting mistakes, but the overlookingof that pathway was a serious thing. The re-taking of the redan must beattempted at all hazards. It is the key, you see, to our position. If wewait for all our reinforcements the task will only be greater, as itwill give the enemy time to establish himself in force, and when hedrills out the spiked gun, the odds against us will be greater still. "

Then, after a pause, "We must try and regain that gun without a moment'sdelay. It will be hot work, and means a sacrifice, but it is clearly ourduty. Macdonell cannot be long. How are your men?"

"Somewhat fagged, sir, " replied Dennis, "and a bit hippish. We've had atrying time, but they are ready to follow you. "

 * * * * *

It has been truly said of Isaac Brock that he never allowed a thought ofself-preservation or self-interest to affect for one instant hisconception of duty. He was blind at this moment to all personalconsiderations. He made no effort to shelter himself behind anyplausible excuse that would have been gratefully seized by the timid orcalculating man, or to fence with his duty. His consistency was sublime. "His last moments were in clear keeping with his life and his belief. "

 "He who thinks In strife To earn a deathless fame, Must _do_, nor ever care for life. "

The little band of heroes fell into line, while their brother heroaddressed them. 

"Men of the 49th, " said Brock, "and my brave volunteers, I have heard ofyour work this morning, and the trying circumstances under which youhave been fighting. Now, my lads, as you know, a large body of the enemyhas stolen a march on us. They have taken our gun, it is true, but theywill find it spiked! It is our duty to re-take it. Be prepared forslippery footing. Use every bit of shelter, but when we make the finalrush give the enemy no time to think. Pour in a volley; fire low, andwhen it comes to in-fighting, use the bayonet resolutely and you havethem beaten. I know I can depend upon you. .. . There is a foreign flagflying over a British gun. It must not stay there. .. . Don't cheer now, men, but save your breath and follow me. "

 * * * * *

There was a cheer, notwithstanding. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

THE BATTLE OF QUEENSTON HEIGHTS. 

While these fateful and stirring scenes were being enacted at Queenston, a despatch rider arrived from Evans of Fort George. Without waiting forfurther instructions, he had, after Brock's departure, with the firstglimpse of daylight, cannonaded Fort Niagara. This he did with typicalthoroughness. His fire was returned with interest. With a license indirect opposition to the laws of battle, the enemy, under CaptainLeonard, turned his guns on the village of Newark, bombarding publicbuildings and private residences with hot-shot, laying part of the townin ashes. This infuriated Evans, and he renewed the siege with so muchvigour that he compelled the American garrison to evacuate. A shot fromone of his twelve-pounders burst within the centre of Fort Niagara anddecided Leonard to abandon his position in haste, after suffering manycasualties. 

 * * * * *

Under a nasty crackle of musketry, galling and accurate, which harriedthe men, already chilled and strung up with suspense, the smalldetachment following the courageous Brock from the lower village soonreached the stone walls that surrounded a residence at the base of thehill. Here our hero dismounted, handed his horse to an orderly, anddirected the men to find shelter. A moment later, taking advantage of alull in the firing, he vaulted over the wall, and waving his sword abovehis head, shouted to the grenadiers a word of encouragement. Theyanswered with a cheer, still following him as he led the way up thesteep ascent towards the captured battery. 

Wool, within the enclosure of the redan, was closely watching the steadyadvance of the small body of resolute men breasting the Height. 

The purpose of these men was unmistakable. As they drew closer, scarletuniform and polished bayonet blazed and flashed in the sunshine. Havingbeen heavily reinforced, he detached a party of 150 picked regulars, andwith these moved out to meet the small band of British led by Brock. Abrief exchange of shots took place, and the Americans fell back, firing. 

Though the rain had ceased the trees were gemmed with drops that stilldripped. The ground was strewn with wet leaves, slippery, and affordingtreacherous foothold. Progress was slow and laborious. As the hillsidegrew steeper, a man here and there slid, lurched and fell. To maintainany semblance of formation was impossible. The fire grew hotter. Balland buckshot and half-ounce bullets down-poured on them from above. "Death crouched behind every rock and lurked in every hollow. "

Had Brock's handful of loyalists been able to rush headlong, spurred bylust of conflict, and lock bayonets with the enemy, another tale mighthave been told. But the effect of the futile struggle for foothold onthe hillside, seamed with slippery depressions, in the teeth of ablizzard of lead, soon showed. The bullet-swept ascent was a cruel testfor men already fagged and faint. As for our hero, though storm-beaten, stained with mud, and hungry as a wolf, he was still the sameindomitable youth who had scaled the cut cliffs of Cobo in search ofseagulls' eggs. His vigour and disregard of danger were magnificent. Hisexample, splendid. 

Brock may not have been judicially precautious. Had he waited forreinforcements--there were none nearer than Fort George--his own lifemight possibly have been preserved. As an alternative he could perhapshave withdrawn and sought shelter in the village. But--apart from theperil to his own prestige--who would care to estimate the ulterioreffect upon his men if such an example had been set them? These roughCanadian irregulars consisted, as they do to-day, of the finest fightingmaterial in the world. The law of self-preservation had no place in thelitany of Isaac Brock. He was a daily dealer in self-sacrifice. Besides, this was not the time or place to calculate involved issues. He was nota cold-blooded politician, nor was he an opportunist; he was merely apatriot and a soldier fighting for hearth and home, for flag andcountry. It was not an issue that could be left to arbitration in thehereafter, or threshed out by judge and jury. The situation called forinstant action. To _do_ his obvious duty rather than to _know_ it, seemed to our hero the only honorable exit from the dilemma, even thoughit resulted in his own undoing. 

Not until the dead are mustered by the God of hosts--at the lastroll-call--will this noble soldier's conception of duty and hissacrifice be truly appraised. 

God and the right was carved deep in the heart of Isaac Brock. Though hefelt for his men, it was in a compassionate, not a weak way. War withoutbloodshed was inconceivable. He had been trained in an age and in aschool that regarded blood-shedding in the protection of the right aswholly justifiable, as it was inevitable. Is there any change in respectto the application of this doctrine to-day? For himself he had nocompassion whatever. His faith in the cause compelled him to fight to afinish. He was not of the potter's common clay of which fatalists aremade. How many of these faithful fellows, he wondered, as his alert mindrapidly reviewed the present and recalled the past--Canadian and Celt, Irish and Anglo-Saxon, Protestant and Catholic, whom "neither politics, sect or creed could, in such a crisis, keep apart"--would leave theirbodies to bleach on that hill-side? How many of them were destined toyield their lives for honour's sake, to die with their valour unrecordedin the defence--in the case of numbers of them--not of their own, but oftheir brother's rights?

 * * * * *

The next second he was wondering what was doing at St. Peter's Port orLondon. It would be noon there. Were the good brothers and sisterthinking of "Master Isaac" at that moment? Then, swifter than light, hewas at Niagara, and the bowed figure of a woman at a porch, with pale, upturned face, who that morning had bade him a silent farewell, rosebefore him--surely it was years ago--the woman to whom he was betrothed. Then, in a flash, he turned to see some wavering figures around him, some of his own men--not a few wounded--who faltered and shrank from thescreaming buckshot, and dropped to the rear. 

The soldier awoke. 

"This is the first time, " he shouted, "I have ever seen the 49th turntheir backs! Surely the heroes of Egmont will never tarnish theirrecord!"

 * * * * *

The rebuke stung. The panting ranks closed up. 

[Illustration: DEATH OF ISAAC BROCK]

CHAPTER XXX. 

THE DEATH OF ISAAC BROCK. 

At this moment Colonel Macdonell, excited and eager to participate, reached the foot of the mountain at the head of the supports for whichthe General had despatched him. These consisted of about thirty ofHeward's flank company of militia and thirty of the 49th--almostbreathless and much exhausted, having run most of the way. Brock's smallforce--those actually at his side--were Chisholm's and Cameron'scompanies of the Toronto and York volunteers--a mere handful of perhapseighty all told. These, together with Macdonell's men, who were at thefoot of the hill on the right, now numbered less than 190 of all ranks. 

For an instant there was a pause. Brock spoke hurriedly to his aide. 

"If Williams and Macdonell can but outflank the Americans on the summitand scale the mountain in rear of the redan on the right, nothing canprevent our driving them out. Our place is here. "

"But, General, " interposed his aide, who worshipped his commandingofficer, "I pray you, let me lead, or at least do take properprecautions. If you are wounded, think what may befall us. "

"Master Glegg, " hurriedly replied Brock, "I must remain at the head ofthese men. Duty and desire compel me. Should I fall, there are othersnot less competent. "

A half smile, a touch of the arm, and the two men separated. A longseparation. 

 * * * * *

Deceived by the scarlet uniforms of the militia flank companies, Woolbelieved that the attacking party was composed exclusively of regulars, so steady was their advance. His own force now consisted of 500 men, over 300 of whom were regulars. Notwithstanding his much greaterstrength and vastly superior position, being protected by artificialbrush-shelters and logs, and the withering fire with which he met thedogged progress of the British, his flanks, pressed by Williams andMacdonell, began to shrink. The moment was a critical one for our hero. 

The supreme effort must be made. 

Glancing below, Brock, even at that instant, for a fleeting moment wasconscious of the beauty of the country spread beneath him. Almost as faras eye could reach extended an immense, partly pastoral plain, studdedwith villages, groves, winding streams, cultivated farms, orchards, vineyards and meadows. In places a dense forest, decorated with autumn'smellow tints, and furrowed by the black gorge of the Niagara, stretchedto the horizon. Across all, shadows of racing clouds gave emphasis tothe brilliant flood of sunshine. No fairer scene ever greeted the eye ofman. The entire landscape breathed peace. Above it, however, in detachedmasses, hung lurid billows--the smoke of battle. .. . The serene visionfaded, and in its place, in brutal contrast, came cruel, imperious buglecalls, the metallic rattle of fire-arms, the deep thunder of artillery, the curdling cry of wounded men. 

Isaac's senses were insulted by the carnage of war. 

 * * * * *

He now noticed that the supports, led by his plucky aide at the foot ofthe hill, were flagging. He shouted back, "Push on, York Volunteers!"

Our hero's robust figure was a conspicuous object for the Americanriflemen. While telling his men to take advantage of every bit ofshelter, he paid little attention to himself. His uniform, his positionat the head of his men, his loud words of command, stamped him a man ofmark, a soldier of distinction, a special target for Wool'ssharpshooters. 

 * * * * *

So far he had escaped the hail of shot by a miracle. Picking hisfootsteps--it was treadmill work--he sprang forward, urging on his menby word and gesture. 

 * * * * *

A deflected bullet struck the wrist of his sword arm. The wound wasslight. He again waved his sword, smiling his indifference and stillspeaking words of encouragement. 

 * * * * *

They were getting at close quarters now. The redan was less than fiftyyards above. 

He was calling to those nearest him to hold their fire a moment, toprepare to rush the enemy and use their bayonets, when, from a thornthicket, an Ohio scout, Wilklow by name, one of Moseley's riflemen, stepped forward, and, singling out his victim, deliberately aimed at theGeneral. Several of the 49th, noticing the man's movement, fired--buttoo late. The rifleman's bullet entered our hero's right breast, torethrough his body on the left side, close to his heart, leaving a gapingwound. 

 * * * * *

[Illustration: BROCK'S COAT, WORN AT QUEENSTON HEIGHTS]

Brock sank slowly to the ground, quite sensible of his grievous fate. Agrenadier, horribly mutilated, fell across him. To those who ran to aidour hero, anxious to know the nature of his injury, he murmured a fewbroken sentences and--turned to die. 

He tried to frame messages to loved ones, and then, more audibly, as hegallantly strove to raise his head to give emphasis to his lastfaltering words--the same Isaac Brock, unmindful of self and stillmindful of duty--he said, "My fall must not be noticed, nor impede mybrave companions from advancing to victory. "

And with a sigh--expired. 

 * * * * *

Thus died General Sir Isaac Brock, defender and saviour of Upper Canada. Died the death he would have selected, the most splendid death ofall--that of the hero in the hour of victory, fighting for King andcountry, for you and me, and with his face to the foe. 

 * * * * *

Our hero had passed his _last_ milestone. 

 * * * * *

For a brief space the body of Isaac Brock rested where it had fallen, about one hundred yards west of the road that leads through Queenston, and a little eastward of an aged thorn bush. 

 * * * * *

Above the dead soldier's head, clouds, sunshine and rustling foliage;beneath it, fallen forest leaves, moist and fragrant. About themotionless body swayed tussocks of tall grass and the trampled heads ofwild-flowers. The shouts of the regulars, the clamor of the militia, theshrill war-cry of the Mohawks, and the organ notes of battle, were hisrequiem. Then the corpse was hurriedly borne by a few grief-stricken menof the 49th to a house in the village, occupied by Laura Secord--thefuture heroine of Lundy's Lane--where, concealed by blankets--owing tothe presence of the enemy--it was allowed to remain for some hours, unvisited. 

 * * * * *

Later in the day Major Glegg, Brock's faithful aide--the braveMacdonell, in extreme agony, lay dying of his wounds--hastened to thespot, and finding the body of his lamented friend undisturbed, conveyedit to Niagara, "where it was bedewed by weeping friends whose heartswere agonized with bitterest sorrow. "

[Illustration: BATTLE OF QUEENSTON. From an old Sketch]

SUPPLEMENT

AFTER BROCK'S DEATH. 

The "Story of Isaac Brock" would be incomplete without an epitome of theevents that terminated the Battle of Queenston Heights and resulted inan overwhelming victory for the British. 

General Brock was killed in action at about half-past seven on themorning of October 13th, 1812. His body was removed from GovernmentHouse, Niagara, to a cavalier bastion at Fort George, for finalsepulture. This bastion was selected by Major Glegg, it being the onewhich Brock's own genius had lately suggested--the one from which therange of an observer's vision covered the principal points ofapproach--and had just been finished under his daily superintendence. 

After he fell, the handful of men who were with him, overcome by histragic end, overwhelmed by superior numbers and a hurricane of buckshotand bullets, wavered, and though Dennis attempted to rally them, fellback and retreated to the far end of Queenston village. Here, about twohours later, Colonel Macdonell, Brock's aide, collected and reformed thescattered units, and made another bold dash to rescale the heights andretake the redan. A detailed account of the incidents that followed indramatic succession would fill a book. 

With the cry of "Revenge the General!" from the men of the 49th, Macdonell, on Brock's charger, led the forlorn attack, supported byDennis. At the same moment, Williams, with his detachment, emerged fromthe thicket, shouting to his men, "Feel firmly to the right, my lads;advance steadily, charge them home, and they cannot stand you. " The twodetachments then combined, and Macdonell ordering a general advance, they once more breasted the ascent. 

The enemy, over four hundred strong, but without proper formation, firedan independent volley at the British as they approached to within thirtyyards of the redoubt. This was responded to with vigour, and grenadiersand volunteers, in response to brave Macdonell's repeated calls, chargedfiercely on Wool's men, now huddled in disorder around theeighteen-pounder. Some of them started to run towards the river bank. One American officer, Ogilvie, of the 13th regulars, thinking thesituation hopeless, raised his handkerchief on his sword-point in tokenof surrender. Wool, a soldier of different calibre, tore it down, and acompany of United States infantry coming at that moment to hisassistance, he rallied his men. 

The momentary advantage gained by Macdonell's small band of heroes waslost, and in the exchange of shots that followed, Macdonell'shorse--Brock's charger--was killed under him while he--his uniform tornwith bullets--was thrown from the saddle as the animal plunged in itsdeath struggle--receiving several ghastly bullet wounds, from which hedied the following day, after enduring much agony. Williams, a momentlater, fell desperately wounded; Dennis, suffering from a severe headwound, at first refused to quit the field, but Cameron having removedthe sorely-stricken Macdonell, and Williams having recoveredconsciousness and escaped, the dispirited men fell back, retreated downthe mountain at Parrott's Tavern, retiring upon Vrooman's battery. Herethey awaited, unmolested, until two in the afternoon, the arrival ofreinforcements from Fort George. The fight, though short, had beenfurious and deadly. Americans and British alike were glad to takebreath. 

Meanwhile, unobserved, young Brant, with 120 Mohawk Indians, had scaledthe mountain, east of St. David's, outflanking the Americans, and hemmedthem in until Captains Derenzy, of the 41st, and Holcroft, of theArtillery, arrived with the car-brigade from Fort George and trained twofield-guns and a howitzer upon the landing. Merritt, with a troop ofmounted infantry, at the same time reached the village by the Queenstonroad. This movement, which was a ruse, deceived the enemy, who at onceredisposed his troops in readiness for an attack from this new quarter. 

The American commander was ignorant of the fact that GeneralSheaffe--with four companies of the 41st, 308 strong, the same number ofmilitia, and a company of negro troops from Niagara, refugee slaves fromthe United States--was at that moment approaching his rear in the rearof the Indians. The British advanced in crescent-shaped formation, hidden by mountain and bush, and were shortly joined by a few moreregulars and by two flank companies of the 2nd regiment of militia fromChippewa. Indeed, many persons of all ranks of life, even veteransexempt by age, seized their muskets and joined the column to repel theinvaders, "unappalled" by Dearborn's threats of conquest or by the deathof their "beloved hero, Isaac Brock. " By this movement the Britishescaped the enfilading fire of the Lewiston batteries, the steep ascentof the heights in the teeth of the enemy's field-works, and compelledhim to change front. The British of all ranks numbered less than onethousand. 

[Illustration: PLAN OF BATTLE OF QUEENSTON]

The United States troops, which had been heavily reinforced, consistedat this time of about one thousand fighting men, on and about themountain. This number was slowly supplemented by fresh arrivals fromLewiston, encouraged when they saw the American flag planted on theredan. The wounded were sent across the river. Nearly all of the newarrivals were regulars. Colonel Winfield Scott, of Mexican fame, a triedsoldier, six feet four in his stockings, was now in command, supportedby a second field-piece and many sharp-shooters. Van Rensselaer, narrowly escaping capture, had retreated by boat to Lewiston, ostensiblyto bring over more troops. Finding the conditions unfavourable, he didnot do so, but sent over General Wadsworth, as a vicarious sacrifice, totake command. The gun in the redan had been unspiked, and the summitstrongly entrenched, but as Scott's men betrayed strange lukewarmness, orders were given "to shoot any man leaving his post. "

Sheaffe's men having rested after their forced tramp, a few sphericalcase-shot by Holcroft drove out the American riflemen. His gunners hadat last silenced the Lewiston batteries, and finding the river range, sunk almost every boat that attempted to cross. The Indians were nowordered to drive in the enemy's pickets slowly. Scouting the woods, theyrouted his outposts. 

About four p. M. Captain Bullock, with two flank companies of militia and150 men of the 41st, advanced, and after firing a volley in the face ofa dense smoke, charged the enemy's right, which broke in greatconfusion. A general advance was ordered, and, with wild warwhoops bythe Indians and white men, the heights were rushed, Wadsworth'sveterans were stampeded, the redan retaken at the point of the bayonet, and Scott's command forced to the scarp of the cliff overhanging theriver. 

The American soldiers, to quote United States historians, now "fled likesheep, " and scuttled off in all directions. Some raced headlong down themain road, seeking shelter under the muzzles of Holcroft's guns; somesought refuge in the houses; others raced to the landing only to findthe boats no longer there. Not a few, hot pressed by Brant's avengingMohawks, threw themselves over the precipice, preferring suicide to theredman's tomahawk. Others plunged into the Niagara, essaying to swim itsirresistible eddies, only to be blown out of the green water byHolcroft's grapeshot or sucked down by the river's silent whirlpools. 

One boat, with fifty struggling refugees, sank with its entire crew. Twoothers similarly laden were beached below the village, with only onedozen out of one hundred souls still living. The river presented ashocking scene. On the face of the water men, many maimed and wounded, fought and struggled for survival. This pitiful spectacle was actuallytaking place under the eyes of several thousands of American soldiers onthe Lewiston bank, who, almost impossible to believe, and to theirlasting disgrace, refused to join, or attempt even to succour, theircomrades--deaf to all entreaty--allowing them to perish. Every room andshack at Queenston was an improvised hospital or morgue, filled with themangled bodies of the quick and dead. 

Cruikshank says 120 wounded United States officers and men were taken, of whom thirty died at hospital in Queenston and Niagara, while 140 morewere ferried across to Lewiston. Lossing, the American historian, solemnly records the "fact" that "less than 600 American troops of allranks ever landed at Queenston, " and that "of these only 300 wereoverpowered"--some of the United States histories of the colonial warsneed drastic revision--yet 958 American soldiers were taken prisoners bythe British; "captured by a force, " so officially wrote Colonel VanRensselaer, after the battle, "amounting to only about _one-third_ ofthe united number of the American troops. " Captain Gist, of the U. S. Army, placed their own killed at 400. 

Among those who, when defeat was certain, fled to the water's edge, after fighting valiantly, was Colonel Winfield Scott, GeneralWadsworth, and other United States officers. Pursued by the Indians, they lowered themselves from shrub to shrub. When escape was hopeless, Scott tied the white cravat of his comrade, Totten, on his sword point, and with another officer, Gibson, was hurrying to present this flag oftruce, when two Indians confronted them on the narrow trail. Jacobs, Brant's powerful follower, wrenched Scott's sword away, hatchets weredrawn, and had not a British grenadier sergeant rushed forward, WinfieldScott would have fared badly. 

General Van Rensselaer's defeat was complete and disastrous. His chagrinat his failure "to appal the minds of the Canadians" was so great thatten days later he resigned his command. 

The account between Canada and the United States at sundown on that daystood as follows: Total American force engaged, 1, 600. Killed andwounded, or sent back across the river, during the fight, 500. Prisoners, 73 officers, including two generals and five colonels, together with 852 rank and file. Total loss, 1, 425 men, besides thecolours of the New York regiment, one six-pounder, 815 carbines andbayonets, and 5, 950 rounds of ball and buckshot. 

The total British force engaged was 1, 000. Of these 800 were regularsand militia, and 200 Indians. Killed, 14, including one major-generaland one aide. Wounded and missing, 96. Total American loss, 1, 425. TotalBritish loss, 110. _The next day the British General, Sheaffe, IsaacBrock's successor, signed another armistice. The second armistice withina period of nine weeks!_

Such is the story of the Battle of Queenston Heights. 

SUBSEQUENT EVENTS OF THE CAMPAIGN OF 1812. 

After Van Rensselaer resigned his command in favour of Brigadier-GeneralSmyth, the effect of the British victory upon the United States troopsat Lewiston was beyond belief. While the British soldiers were, withcharacteristic indifference, hard at work at Fort George cutting woodand threshing straw, the American soldiers across the river, accordingto their own historians, were deserting by the hundreds. Of GeneralTannehill's brigade of 1, 414 of all ranks, 1, 147 deserted within a fewdays. Twenty of these were officers. 

Had the British been allowed to profit by this demoralization of theenemy and followed up their brilliant successes, they could, as Brockpredicted, have swept the frontier from Chippewa to Sackett's Harbour, and probably prevented a continuance of the two years' war. TheSheaffe-Prevost inexcusable thirty days' truce was the very respite theenemy had prayed for. More men and more munitions were hurriedlydespatched to all the United States frontier forts, and renewed courageimparted to some of the commanders and their hesitating brigades. Thefirst to waken up after the expiration of this, to the Americans, merciful truce, was General Dearborn, who, with 2, 000 men, attackedOdelltown, only to be driven back to Lake Champlain by de Salaberry. This reverse was followed in the last days of November by an attack byGeneral Smyth, with 400 of his 4, 300 men, upon a four-gun battery, defended by sixty-five men, above Garden Island, on the Niagara River. Elated with his success, he took for his rallying cry, "The cannon lostat Detroit--or death!" and again crossed the river with thirty-two boatsand 900 men, and descended upon Fort Erie. Meanwhile, Colonel Bisshopphad retaken the fort, with its American captors, and with a handful ofregulars and militia awaited "annihilation. " As Smyth's flotillaadvanced, Bisshopp poured in a hot fire, sinking two boats. Thisreception did not accord with Smyth's views of the ethics of war, andforgetting all about the "lost guns, " and disliking, upon reflection, the idea of "death, " he at once turned tail. At Buffalo he was publiclypelted by the populace, and for his cowardice was dismissed the serviceby the United States Senate without the formality of a trial. Dearborn--strange to say--having for the time lost his taste forfighting, went into winter quarters, and Canada, in universal mourningfor Brock, but still confident and undaunted, rested on her arms. Theyear 1812 closed without further incident. 

The period thus ended had been a momentous one. Brilliant reputationshad been made and lost. The blood of many patriots had flowed freely, but, as regarded Canada, not in vain, for, in the words of the Americanhistorian, Schouler, "the war had impressed upon the people of theRepublic the fact that Canada could not be carried by dash, nor piercedby an army officered by political generals and the invincibles ofpeace. "

THE CAMPAIGN OF 1813. 

Though it would be quite natural to suppose that the story of IsaacBrock would end with his death and the victory of Queenston Heights, itis well to remember that the _influence of his triumphs only ceased withthe close of the war_ and the Treaty of Ghent, in December, 1814. Hencea _résumé_ of the events that occurred during 1813 and 1814 isnecessary, if a just valuation of our hero's achievements is desired. 

Between July, 1812 and November 5th, 1814, "twelve distinct invasions ofCanada by superior forces of the enemy were defeated. " Out of fifty-sixmilitary and naval engagements between the British and U. S. Forces, thirty-six were won by the British. Though the victories of 1812 werethe direct factors that brought about a change in the national destinyof Canada, "Queenston Heights was not the culminating feat of arms. " Asa result of brooding over these disasters that had befallen the "GrandArmy of the West, " and the "national disgrace" of overwhelming defeat, the people of the United States, as a whole, independent of politics, "were now"--so write American chroniclers--"compelled to becomebelligerents. "

In consequence of this national thirst for revenge, Generals Harrisonand Winchester started to look for trouble in January, 1813, and--wererewarded. Strongly stockaded at Frenchtown, on the Raisin River, with aseasoned army, they invited attack. Colonel Procter, with 500 soldiersand 800 Indians under Roundhead, accepted the challenge, and making afurious attack upon Winchester before daybreak, took the General and 405of his "Grand Army" prisoners. Brockville was then raided, and fifty-twocitizens kidnapped by the U. S. Soldiers. During the next two years raidsof this nature were of frequent occurrence, first by one belligerent, then by the other, and with varying success. Major Macdonald's captureof Ogdensburg, when he took eleven guns and 500 U. S. Soldiers, was thenext big win for Canada. 

In April, to balance the account, General Pike descended upon York. Thecapital of Upper Canada at that time had a population of only 1, 000, andwas weakly garrisoned. While the enemy was advancing upon the small fortto the west of the village, a powder magazine exploded, killing many onboth sides. General Sheaffe, thoroughly alarmed at the prospect, destroyed his stores, and, after 300 of his force had been captured, retreated with the remainder to Kingston--for which he was severelycensured--and York surrendered. Then Procter, inflated by his victory atFrenchtown, and overrating his military skill, attacked Fort Meigs, onthe Maumee River, was badly repulsed, and hopelessly lost all prestige. 

This defeat of the British was followed by Dearborn's assault upon FortGeorge. With 7, 000 men behind him, aided by the guns of Chauncey's fleetat the river mouth, he captured the time-worn fortification, and theNiagara frontier--despite the dogged resistance of General Vincent, whohad to retreat with the crippled remnant of his 1, 400 men--was at lastin the possession of the enemy. This win was made more complete byGeneral Prevost's belated and, of course, futile attack upon Sackett'sHarbour. When assured success stared him in the face, his flaccid naturesuggested retreat, and what might have been a signal victory became adisgraceful failure. The position of affairs at this time was admirablysummed up in a letter written by Quartermaster Nichol. "Alas! we are nolonger commanded by Isaac Brock. .. . Confidence seems to have vanishedfrom the land, and gloomy despondency in those who are at our head hastaken its place. " Brock's courage, judgment, military skill and personalmagnetism were never so much needed. 

To offset these reverses, the brilliant victory of the British ship_Shannon_ over the American war vessel _Chesapeake_, in a naval duelfought outside Boston harbour, somewhat restored British complacence. This was the prelude to another victory on land. Vincent, after beingbombarded out of Fort George, slowly retreated with his broken commandtowards Burlington, cleverly flirting with the enemy, and drawing himfarther and farther inland, finally reforming his wearied men near StonyCreek, sixteen miles from the lake's head. Here the enemy, 3, 000 strong, went into camp. It was here that FitzGibbon--General Brock's old-timesergeant-major and faithful _protégé_--now in command of a company ofthe 49th, disguised as a settler, penetrated the enemy's camp, and wasconvinced a night attack would be successful. While the advance guard ofthe enemy was driving in the British decoy pickets, 800 of Vincent'sforce, under Harvey, surprised and charged them in the darkness, capturing two American generals, 120 prisoners, and four cannon, withoutthe loss of a man. 

Sheaffe was now transferred to Montreal, and De Rottenberg assumedmilitary command in Upper Canada. Three weeks later an American, ColonelBoerstler, was ordered to surprise a small party of British at BeaverDams (now Thorold). Lieutenant FitzGibbon, in command, was informed ofthe proposed attack. An heroic woman--Laura Secord--the wife of awounded militiaman at Queenston, and to whose house Brock's body wasborne after he fell, learned of the pending surprise by overhearing aconversation between some American officers. Her resolution was soonformed. Despite the fact that twenty miles through gloomy forest, filledwith hostile Indians, lay between her home and the British camp, shetramped the distance unattended, though not unmolested, and reached theStone House in time to warn the plucky grenadier. The wily Irishman atonce despatched a party of Caughnawaga Indians to divert the enemy'sattention. Advancing with a few soldiers, and finding Boerstler and hisforce drawn up in an opening of the woods, uncertain what to do, heboldly ordered that officer to surrender with his entire command of 540soldiers, though he had but forty-seven men to enforce the conditions. His demand was instantly complied with. 

To equalize in part this game of international see-saw, Chauncey againvisited York with fourteen ships, mounting 114 guns, and plundered thedefenceless capital. 

On Lake Erie, Perry, with nine ships and a total broadside of 936 poundsof metal, defeated Barclay's six Canadian ships, with a total broadsideof 459 pounds. These facts must be taken into impartial consideration inweighing the issue. In the west, Procter, still suffering from the shockreceived at Fort Meigs, with 407 troops and 800 Indians, retreated upthe Thames valley, neglecting to burn his bridges in his retreat, withGeneral Harrison and an army of 3, 500 men in hot pursuit. The Americangeneral brought him to bay at Moraviantown, and in the frozen swamps thedispirited British, having lost all confidence in their fleeingcommander, surrendered or escaped. It was here that the gallant andhigh-minded Tecumseh met his death, under distressing circumstances. Thestory was circulated that, mortified at Procter's proposed flight, theShawanese chief was only restrained from shooting that officer by theinterference of Colonel Elliott. For his conduct and the unexplaineddisaster at Moraviantown, Procter was court-martialed, severelycondemned, and suspended from his command for six months. 

[Illustration: TAKING OF NIAGARA, MAY 27TH, 1813. From an old Print]

The defeat of Procter was counterbalanced, however, by Colonel deSalaberry's dramatic victory over General Hampton. With 350 FrenchCanadian Voltigeurs he hypnotized 3, 500 United States troops atChateauguay. When the fight was hottest the gallant Frenchman orderedhis buglers to sound the advance, an alarming fanfare, accompanied bydischarges of musketry from various points of the surrounding forest, and the enemy, thinking he was about to be attacked and flanked bysuperior numbers, was seized with panic, stampeded, and never halted inhis retreat until he had placed twenty-five miles of country between himand the "French devils. " After this, occurred the historic battle ofChrysler's Farm, on the St. Lawrence, when 2, 000 U. S. Regulars underGeneral Boyd, with six field-guns, were routed, with a loss of 102killed and 237 wounded, by a force composed of 380 regulars, militia andIndians, under Colonel Morrison, and driven back into Americanterritory. 

In the second week of December, General McClure evacuated Fort George, but before doing so burned 149 of the public buildings and privatehouses in Newark and Queenston, by order of John Armstrong, U. S. Secretary of War, compelling 400 women and children to seek shelter inthe woods, with the thermometer ranging around zero. Even Lossing, theAmerican historian, condemned this as "a wanton act, contrary to theusages of war, and leaving a stain upon the American character. " Theoutrage brought its own punishment within the week. Colonel Murray, with550 soldiers, captured the United States Fort Niagara, killingsixty-five men and taking 344 prisoners, and before the close of theyear, with his heart on fire, the British general, Riall, crossed theriver with 500 Indians and sacked Lewiston, Youngstown, Tuscarora andManchester, only desisting from his excusable incendiarism when he hadburned Buffalo and laid Black Rock in ashes. January 1st, 1814, wasushered in with the Cross of St. George floating over the batteredramparts of the American Fort Niagara. 

Thus ended the year of our Lord 1813, for ever memorable in NorthAmerican history as a twelve months of almost incessant warfare, famousfor its records of conspicuous courage, much military incompetence, andgreat and lamentable carnage. A year, notwithstanding its sheaf ofblunders, that should be canonized by all true Canadians, for it was ayear that emphasized in an astounding manner the pluck and bull-dogtenacity of the Canadian militiaman, disclosing his deep love forcountry that resisted unto death the lawless attacks of a wantoninvader. 

THE CAMPAIGN OF 1814. 

In March, 1814, General Wilkinson again undertook the forlorn hope ofcapturing Canada, leading 5, 000 men against 350 British, under Hancock, at Lacolle, on Lake Champlain. After five hours of red-hot fighting, hewas compelled to fall back on Plattsburg. A month later Admiral SirJames Yeo and General Drummond, with 750 men, landed under the batteriesat Oswego, and in the teeth of a sustained fire of cannon and musketry, "gathered in" that historic town and sixty prisoners. 

To and fro, like a pendulum, swayed the scene of action--to-day east, to-morrow west. Colonel Campbell and 500 American soldiers, with nothingbetter to do, made a bonfire of Port Dover, the incident beingofficially described by the U. S. War Department as "an error ofjudgment. " Then General Brown, backed by an army of 6, 000 U. S. Veterans, swooped down like "a wolf on the fold" on Fort George, and annexed itand the garrison of 170 men. The British general, Riall, stillpossessing the fighting mania, and some 1, 800 men, locked horns withGeneral Brown and 3, 000 of his veterans, and the Battle of Chippewaadded another victory to the American record. The enemy then pillagedSt. David's, while Riall--both sides having suffered heavily--retreatedto the head of Lundy's Lane, a narrow roadway close to the Falls ofNiagara, and stood at bay. 

Three weeks elapsed, when General Drummond, realizing Riall's danger, hastened from York to his assistance, reaching Lundy's Lane with 800 menat the moment that General Brown, with his reinforced army of over 4, 000men, was within 600 yards of the British outposts. A moment later thecontest was on, the bloodiest and probably the most brilliant battle ofthe whole campaign. It was a bitterly contested fight for seven hours--adeath struggle for the survival of the fittest. During the first threehours the British force numbered only 1, 640, until reinforced by 1, 200additional combatants. All through the long hours of the black night thebattle waged furiously. Charge succeeded charge, followed by the screamsof the mutilated and the dead silence of the stricken. Over all boomedthe muffled thunders of Niagara. The big guns, almost mouth to mouth, roared crimson destruction. Though bayonets were crossed, and thefighting was hand to hand and desperate, and sand and grass grew ghastlyand slippery with the sheen of blood in the fitful moonlight, theBritish, notwithstanding the advantage in weight and numbers of theenemy, held their ground. When day was breaking, and the Americangeneral found his casualties exceeded one thousand, he withdrew hisshattered army of invaders to Fort Erie. The British loss was 84 killedand 557 wounded. Lundy's Lane has been likened to the storming of St. Sebastian or the deathly duel at Quatre Bras. Both invaders anddefenders exhibited heroism--worthy, in the case of the enemy, of ahigher cause. General Drummond was wounded, and a son of General Hull, of Detroit notoriety, was among the killed. 

[Illustration: CENOTAPH, QUEENSTON HEIGHTS]

Though the battle of Lundy's Lane, fought on July 25th, was the lastgreat engagement in 1814, and practically ended the war, the campaignwas not destined to close without an exhibition of constitutionaltimidity on the part of Prevost, the man with the liquid backbone. With11, 000 seasoned veterans who had campaigned under Wellington, headvanced, September 14th, on Plattsburg, garrisoned by only 4, 000Americans, and when victory smiled in his face, he actually ordered theretreat. Overcome with humiliation, his officers broke their swords, declaring they "could never serve again, " and sullenly retraced theirsteps to the frontier. This was the crowning episode that destroyedPrevost's reputation. Death rescued him from the disgrace ofcourt-martial. 

How clear-cut and free from blemish, in contrast with that of many ofhis contemporaries, stands out the brilliant record of Isaac Brock. 

The Treaty of Ghent--while satisfactory to the people of Canada, bringing as it did a cessation of hostilities, permanent peace, andrecognition of their rights--was received with mixed satisfaction byboth political parties in the United States, after the first flush ofexcitement had passed away. "What, " the citizens asked each other, "have we gained by a war into which the country was dragged by PresidentMadison in defence of free-trade and sailors' rights, and in oppositionto paper blockades?"

In the articles of peace, these vexed questions (as related in ChaptersVIII. And XIV. )--questions which, as we have seen, were advanced by theUnited States Government as the _real cause for war_, were _not evenmentioned_. Some worthy Americans, having suffered from the fightingqualities of the Canadian loyalists, publicly stated that the"declaration of peace had delivered them from great peril. " In some ofthe States "the universal joy was so great, " writes Gay, in his Life ofMadison, "that Republicans and Democrats forgot their differences andhates and wept and laughed by turns in each others' arms, and kissedeach other like women. "

Another United States historian (Johnston) writes that "peace securednot _one_ of the objects for which war had been declared, for, thoughBritain put a stop to the irritating . .. Practice of searching Americanvessels flying an American flag, she was not bound by the terms of thetreaty to do so. " In the words of another recorder (Taylor), "Britainceased the practice of search, not on account of war, nor of the treaty, but because the necessity of doing so had passed away--the European warbeing over. "

WHAT OF CANADA?

Canada, young as she was in the arts of peace and cruel practices ofwar, while honouring the memory of her heroes who had fallen in thesplendid struggle against invasion, wasted no time in idle tears. Thevery atmosphere of her high northern latitude, the breath of life thatrose from lake and forest, prairie and mountain, was fast developing arace of men with bodies enduring as iron and minds as highly tempered assteel. She drew another and a deeper breath, and, forecasting herdestiny, with shoulders squared and fixed resolve, made ready to createan empire of industrial greatness which, under Providence, was to ranksecond to none. 

The influence of Brock's life, achievements and death upon the Canadianpeople was more far-reaching than boy, or even man, would suppose. Itaroused in the people not only the questionable human desire to avengehis death, but an unexpressed resolve to emulate his high manliness, hisfixity of purpose, and his well-ordered courage in defence of the right. 

 * * * * *

It remains for the youth of Canada to proudly cherish the memory ofIsaac Brock, and to never lose an opportunity to follow the example heset for them by his splendid deeds. 

[Illustration: BROCK'S MONUMENT]

APPENDIX. 

EXPLANATORY NOTES ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS. 

NO. 1. FRONTISPIECE. 

_Major-General Sir Isaac Brock. _

Reproduction of a copy of the original water-color and chalk drawing inthe possession of Sir Isaac Brock's great-niece, Miss Tupper, of Candee, Guernsey. Copied for Miss Agnes FitzGibbon, of Toronto, by AlynWilliams, President of the Miniature Painters' Association of GreatBritain, 1897, and not hitherto published. Adjudged by relatives to bean exact facsimile of Williams' portrait. Miss FitzGibbon writes that"the original painting is on similar paper to that on whichMajor-General Brock's last general orders are written, the sizecorresponding to the space between the watermarks. Dated 1811. " Artistunknown. 

NO. 2. FACING PAGE 11. 

"_St. Peter's Port, Guernsey, in 18×6. _"

By an unknown artist. (An × was frequently used for a "0" at that time. )The original drawing was found among a number of unframed prints in acollection obtained by John Naegely, Esq. , who presented it to theGrange Club, Guernsey, in 1870. It now hangs over the mantelpiece in theclub reception room. The original is drawn in very fine pencil andwater-color--a style of art fashionable at that period. Photographed forMiss Agnes FitzGibbon in 1902. Brock's father's house, where our herowas born--now converted into a wholesale merchant's warehouse--stands atthe point where two lines, drawn from the spots indicated by a cross (+)on the margin, would intersect. On the frame above the picture are thewords, "_Guernsey in 18×6_"; below, "_Presented to the Grange Club byJohn Naegely, Esq. , 9th March, 1870. "_

NO. 3. FACING PAGE 27. 

_Navy Hall, Remnant of the old "Red Barracks, " Niagara, 1797. _

Navy Hall consisted of four buildings erected about 1787. One wasaltered in 1792 for Governor Simcoe. Another was fitted up forParliament when it met at Newark (Niagara), 1792-1797. The building hereshown was afterwards used for troops and called the "Red Barracks. " Froma photograph in possession of Miss Carnochan, Niagara. 

NO. 4. FACING PAGE 32. 

_Colonel James FitzGibbon. _

From a photograph in possession of Miss Agnes FitzGibbon, of Toronto, his granddaughter. Taken by his nephew, Gerald FitzGibbon, 10 MerrionSquare, Dublin. Col. FitzGibbon was a _protégé_ of Brock's. Firstprivate, then the "faithful sergeant-major, " then ensign, then adjutantof the 49th, the "hero of Beaver Dams" in the war of 1812, Adjutant-General of Canada, 1837, and Military Knight of Windsor, 1851. 

NO. 5. FACING PAGE 40. 

_Queenston Road, about 1824. _

Original water-color painting by Charles W. Jefferys, O. S. A. , Toronto, from a photograph in possession of Miss Carnochan, showing the ruins ofWilliam Lyon Mackenzie's printing office, the _Colonial Advocate_, as itappeared twelve years after the battle of Queenston Heights. 

NO. 6. FACING PAGE 52. 

_Ruins of old Powder Magazine, Fort George. _

Photograph in possession of Miss Carnochan. 

NO. 7. FACING PAGE 64. 

_Brock's Cocked Hat. _

Water-color sketch by Harry Carter, Toronto, from photograph inpossession of Miss Carnochan. (See foot-note on page 64. ) Personsinterested in military matters will observe that the white ostrichplumes, which show very slightly, are placed under the flaps, only thewhite edges appearing. This new style of feather display was, it isstated, in compliance with an order from the War Office, issued shortlybefore Brock's death. Previously the plumes were worn moreconspicuously. 

NO. 8. FACING PAGE 75. 

_Butler's Barracks (Officers' Quarters), Niagara Common. _

View of officers' quarters. From photograph loaned by Miss Carnochan. 

NO. 9. FACING PAGE 96. 

_Our Hero meets Tecumseh. _ "_This is a man_!"

Original black and white drawing by Fergus Kyle, Toronto. See page 97. 

NO. 10. FACING PAGE 109. 

_Lieut. -Colonel John Macdonell. _

Reproduced, by permission, from A. C. Casselman's "Richardson's War of1812. " From a silhouette in possession of John Alexander Macdonell, K. C. , Alexandria, Ontario. Colonel Macdonell, who was provincialaide-de-camp to Brock, was member of Parliament for Glengarry andAttorney-General of Upper Canada. Died, October 14th, 1812, from woundsreceived at battle of Queenston Heights, aged 27. 

NO. 11. FACING PAGE 117. 

_Queenston Heights and Brock's Monument. _

As it appeared about 1830, excepting that the present monument has beensubstituted for the old one. Original water-color painting by C. M. Manly, A. R. C. A. , Toronto, from a photograph in possession of MissCarnochan. 

NO. 12. FACING PAGE 121. 

"_Major-General Brock, 18x6. _"

From a vignette photograph loaned by Miss FitzGibbon, Toronto, and nowpublished for the first time in any Life of Brock. As doubt has beenexpressed by some admirers of Brock as to the authenticity of thisportrait, Miss FitzGibbon's written endorsation is here quoted:

"The photograph is from an original miniature portrait of Major-General(afterwards Sir) Isaac Brock, painted by J. Hudson, 18x6--1806--the dateof General Brock's last visit to England. The miniature is now inpossession of Miss S. Mickle, Toronto. "

This full-face vignette is of exceptional interest, all other portraitsof Brock being in profile, and is likely to challenge preconceivednotions. 

NO. 13. FACING PAGE 128. 

_Powder Magazine, Fort George, Niagara. _

This powder magazine was first built in 1796. Reproduced from aphotograph in possession of Miss Carnochan, Niagara. 

NO. 14. FACING PAGE 135. 

_Brock's Midnight Gallop. _

Original water-color painting by Charles W. Jefferys, O. S. A. , Toronto. As a matter of fact, the hour of Brock's gallop from Fort George toQueenston, as described in Chapter XXV. , was not "midnight, " but shortlybefore daybreak. It is this time, "between the lights, " with sky andatmosphere aglow from the fire of the batteries, that the artistcleverly depicts. 

NO. 15. FACING PAGE 140. 

_Battle of Queenston Heights. _

Photographed in Guernsey, 1902, from a curious old print, from a sketchby a brother officer of Brock's--presumably Dennis. (See ExplanatoryNote to No. 18. ) Loaned by Miss FitzGibbon. Original in possession ofMiss Helen Tupper, Guernsey. 

NO. 16. FACING PAGE 156. 

_Death of Isaac Brock. _

Original water-color sketch by Charles W. Jefferys, O. S. A. , Toronto. Shows our hero falling after being hit by the fatal bullet fired by anOhio rifleman, while courageously heading the charge in the attempt torecapture the redan. 

NO. 17. FACING PAGE 159. 

_Brock's Coat, worn at Queenston Heights. _

From photograph, loaned by Miss FitzGibbon, of the coat worn by Brock atQueenston Heights, showing the hole made by the entry of the fatalbullet. Photographed, 1902, from the original in the possession of MissTupper, of Guernsey. 

NO. 18. FACING PAGE 161. 

_Battle of Queenston. _

Facsimile drawing by Harry Carter, Toronto, of an old sketch credited toMajor Dennis (page 161), which appears on an early map of Upper Canada, published by O. G. Steele--presumably of Buffalo--in 1840. Underneath theoriginal print are the following words, reproduced _verbatim_:

 "BATTLE OF QUEENSTON. AFTER A SKETCH BY MAJOR DENNIS, 13TH OCT. , 1813, Which ended in a complete victory on the part of the British, havingcaptured 927 men, killed or wounded about 500, taken 1, 400 stand ofarms, a six-pounder, and a stand of colors. "

(See, also, Explanatory Note to No. 15. )

NO. 19. FACING PAGE 163. 

_Plan of Battle of Queenston. _

Reproduced from an historical pamphlet loaned by Mrs. Currie, ofNiagara, showing the plan of battleground, disposition of troops, andtopography of adjacent country. 

NO. 20. FACING PAGE 170. 

_Taking of Niagara, May 27th, 1813. _

From a sketch which appeared in the Philadelphia _Portfolio_, 1817. Interesting from the fact that it is the only picture known which showsthe churches of St. Mark's and St. Andrew's, Niagara (Newark), Canadianside, and the lighthouse which, built in 1803, stood on the spot whereFort Mississauga now stands. 

NO. 21. FACING PAGE 172. 

_Cenotaph, Queenston Heights. _

Erected near the spot where Brock fell. It bears the followinginscription:

 "NEAR THIS SPOT MAJOR-GENERAL SIR ISAAC BROCK, K. C. B. , PROVISIONAL LIEUTENANT-GOVERNOR OF UPPER CANADA, FELL ON 13TH OCTOBER, 1812, WHILE ADVANCING TO REPEL THE INVADING ENEMY. "

NO. 22. FACING PAGE 174. 

_Brock's Monument. _

On October 13th, 1824, the remains of Brock and his gallant aide, Macdonell, were removed from the bastion at Fort George and placed in avault beneath the monument which had been erected on Queenston Heightsby the Legislature to commemorate our hero's death. On Good Friday, April 17th, 1840, this monument was shattered by an explosion ofgunpowder placed within the basement by a rebel of 1837 named Lett. In1853 the cornerstone of a new monument, as shown at page 174, the costof which was borne by the people of Canada, was erected on the samespot, and on October 13th, forty-one years after the British victory atQueenston, and the anniversary of Brock's splendid death, the remains ofthe two heroes were re-interred and deposited in two massive stonesarcophagi in the vault of the new monument. On the two oval silverplates on Brock's coffin was inscribed the following epitaph:

 "HERE LIE THE EARTHLY REMAINS OF A BRAVE AND VIRTUOUS HERO, MAJOR-GENERAL SIR ISAAC BROCK, COMMANDER OF THE BRITISH FORCES, AND PRESIDENT ADMINISTERING THE GOVERNMENT OF UPPER CANADA, WHO FELL WHEN GLORIOUSLY ENGAGING THE ENEMIES OF HIS COUNTRY, AT THE HEAD OF THE FLANK COMPANIES OF THE 49TH REGIMENT, IN THE TOWN OF QUEENSTON, ON THE MORNING OF THE 13TH OCTOBER, 1812, AGED 42 YEARS. 

 J. B. GLEGG, A. D. C. "