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A WORD TO THE READER
A WORD TO THE READER
That Isaac Brock is entitled to rank as the foremost defender of the flag Western Canada has ever seen, is a statement which no one familiar with history can deny. Brock fought and won out when the odds were all against him. At a time when almost every British soldier was busy fighting Napoleon in Europe, upon General Brock fell the responsibility of upholding Britain's honour in America. He was "the man behind the gun"—the undismayed man—when the integrity of British America was threatened by a
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CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER I.
Off the coast of Brittany, where the Bay of Biscay fights the white horses of the North Sea, the Island of Guernsey rides at anchor. Its black and yellow, red and purple coast-line, summer and winter, is awash with surf, burying the protecting reefs in a smother of foam. Between these drowned ridges of despair, which warn the toilers of the sea of an intention to engulf them, tongues of ocean pierce the grim chasms of the cliffs. Between this and the sister island of Alderney the teeth of the Ca
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CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER II.
Guernsey abounded in the natural attractions that are dear to the youth of robust body and adventurous nature. Isaac, though he excelled in field sports and was the admiration of his school-fellows, was sufficiently strong within himself to find profit in his own society. In the thickets that overlooked Houmet Bay he found solace apart from his companions. There he would recall the stories told him of the prowess of his ancestor, William de Beauvoir, that man of great courage, a Jurat of the roy
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CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER III.
In every young man's career comes a time of probation. During this critical period that youth is wise who enters into a truce with his feelings. This is the period when influences for good or bad assert themselves—the parting of the ways. The sign-posts are painted in capitals. 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 trod the turnpike of life, he knew that he was at the cross-roads. The trail before
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CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER IV.
Meanwhile the war cloud in Europe was growing apace. Holland had been forced into an alliance with France. War, no longer a spectre, but a grim monster, stalked the Continent. Everywhere the hostile arts of Bonaparte were rousing the nations. The breezes that had stirred the marshes of Havelet and awakened in Brock a sense of impending danger, now a furious gale, swept the empires. The roll of drums and roar of cannon that Isaac had listened to in his boyhood dreams were now challenging in deadl
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CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER V.
Isaac Brock received with regret his orders to proceed with the 49th to Canada. Europe was still in the clutches of war. Great opportunities awaited 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 her exports of lumber and fish attracted the attention of the British merchant, her great resources were unknown except to the fur trader and the few United
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CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VI.
The means for transit through Canada at this time was most primitive, and not the least of the questions which occupied Brock's thoughts was the important one of transportation. The lack of facilities for moving large bodies of men and supplies, in event of war, was as apparent as was the lack of vessels of force on lake and river. Between Quebec and Montreal, a distance of sixty leagues, the overland journey was divided into twenty-four stages, requiring four relays of horse-caleches in summer
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CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VII.
Brock could hardly reconcile the degree of punishment inflicted upon the soldiers, the poorly paid defenders of the Empire, with their casual offences. While he rebelled against the brutalities of some officers, he was powerless to prevent them. The sentencing powers conferred by court-martial were at that time beyond belief. A captain and two subalterns could order 999 lashes with a "cat" steeped in brine. It is on record that on one occasion a soldier was sentenced to 1,500 lashes for "maraudi
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CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER VIII.
Shortly after his return to Quebec, Isaac Brock succeeded to the command of the troops in both Upper and Lower Canada, with the pay and allowance of a brigadier. Though no overt act had been committed against Canada by the United States, relations were strained, and he found much to occupy his time. His humanity stirred, he set about erecting hospitals, reorganized the commissariat department, and engaged in an unpleasant dispute with President Dunn, the civil administrator of Lower Canada, rega
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CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER IX.
Montreal—the Mount Royal of Jacques Cartier—was then in the heyday of its pioneer glory. It was the seat of government of the North-West Company, which exercised feudal sway over an empire of wilderness, lake and prairie, and whose title to monopoly was challenged only by the powerful Hudson's Bay Company. Since 1670 this older syndicate of adventurers had held the destinies of the great lone land in the farther North-West, its fruitful plains and pathless forests, in the hollow of its hand. Lat
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CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER X.
It was while stationed in Montreal that our hero met Alexander Henry, ex-fur-trader and adventurer and coureur de bois —then a merchant and King's auctioneer—a notable personage and leader in many a wild exploit in 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 the strategic value of various points on the frontier, possession of which in the event of war he foresaw would be worth a king's ransom. Not least were detai
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CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XI.
In common with most great men, Brock found distraction in trifles. For weeks prior to leaving Quebec all kinds of gayety prevailed. A visit from Governor Gore of Upper Canada, and the arrival of the fleet from Guernsey and two frigates from Portsmouth, gave a fillip to society. Races, water-parties and country picnics were the order of the day. Our hero's contribution consisted of a banquet and grand ball. He had his own troubles, however, that even the versatile Dobson could not overcome, and h
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CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XII.
The appointment of Brock—with his exceptional military attainments—to the chief command in Upper Canada, at the point of greatest danger, was a rare piece of good fortune for the colony. Of the American military leaders, Generals Howe, Dearborn and Wadsworth were all examples of a common standard; even Sir George Prevost, the new Governor-General of Canada 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
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CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIII.
A President of the United States had breezily declared that the conquest of Canada would be "a mere matter of marching." The final expulsion of England from the American continent he regarded as a matter of course. Cabinet ministers at Washington and rabid politicians looked upon the forcible 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 take it in six weeks."
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CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XIV.
It came at last! On June 18th, 1812, after weeks of preparation, placing an embargo on shipping, putting 100,000 militia on a war footing on the pretence of hostilities among the Indians, calling out the volunteers and raising a special public fund, Congress under President Madison declared war against Great Britain. This did not end Brock's suspense. Not until five weeks later did he receive official notice from Prevost. Despite opposition from many states, which declared their detestation of a
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CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XV.
With the country's call for a saviour had arisen the man so sorely needed. Vigilant, sagacious and brave, but with most inadequate forces, Brock, faced by a crisis, hurried to repel the invasion by Hull. If Canada was to be saved, Detroit, as well as Mackinaw, must be reduced. The confidence also of the savages must be retained. The smallness of his army demanded the neutrality of the redmen, if not their active aid. The plan of his campaign was laid before his Executive Council and the members
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CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVI.
Under an August moon Lake Erie shone as a shield of silver. Brock, with a fleet of small craft, batteaux and boats of every kind given him by the settlers, had pulled out from Long Point with 40 regulars and 260 militia for the relief of Amherstburg, two hundred miles distant. The news of the fall of Mackinaw and the official declaration of war had only reached him as Parliament rose. He had proclaimed martial law before leaving York. He had also heard details of the attack by Hull's raiders on
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CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVII.
A few minutes only had elapsed when Elliott returned. The sentry's challenge caused Brock to look up from the table, littered with plans and despatches. Another figure darkened the doorway. "This, sir," said Elliott, "is Tecumseh, the Shawanese chief of whom you have 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 manly fashion the reason for asking that the fi
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CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
It was a picturesque council of white men and Indians that was held at dawn in an open glade of the forest. The fragrant odours of the bush mingled with the pungent smoke of the red willow-bark, puffed from a hundred pipes. Conspicuous at this pow-wow was Tecumseh, who across his close-fitting buckskin hunting jacket, which descended to his knees and was trimmed with split leather fringe, wore a belt of wampum, made of the purple enamel of mussel shells—cut into lengths like sections of a small
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CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XIX.
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 out of the faint August haze, huge and threatening. With its advent the British batteries resumed their fire, aided by the guns on the Queen Charlotte and Hunter , which lay in the river, above the village known to-day as Windsor, to cover the embarkation of the troops in batteaux and canoes. Brock's entire force consisted of only 330 regulars and 400 militia,
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CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XX.
Reaching a ravine, Brock ordered up his artillery and prepared to assault. A shell from the British battery at Sandwich roared over the river and crashed through an embrasure of Fort Shelby, killing four American officers. The Savoyard river was reached and the outlying tan-yard crossed. Brock's troops, keyed up, with nerves tense under the strain of suspense, and every moment expecting a raking discharge of shot and shell from the enemy's big guns, heard with grim satisfaction the General's ord
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CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXI.
The conduct of the Indians under Tecumseh at Detroit had been marked by great heroism and strict adherence to their pledges. "The instant the enemy submitted, his life became sacred." In recognition of Tecumseh's work, and in the presence of the troops formed in the fort square, Brock handed him his silver-mounted pistols, and taking off his sash, tied it round the body of the chief. A suspicion of a smile—the faint smile of elation of the well-trained child accepting a prize—flitted across the
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CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXII.
The armistice paralyzed Brock's movements. All the moral influence and material advantage gained by the captures of Mackinaw and Detroit were nullified by this incredible blunder, for which no reason, military or civil, has ever been assigned. The loyal volunteers were released from duty. Brock's Indian allies returned to their villages. Prevost's policy of peace had become a mental malady. In spite of our hero's pleadings, and though Prevost actually knew, before the fall of Detroit, that Presi
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CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
General Sheaffe, the only field officer available, and junior colonel of the 49th, of whom the reader has already heard, had been brought from the East to take command at Niagara in Brock's absence. Like Prevost, he was born in Boston, Massachusetts, in 1763, a son of the deputy collector of that port. There the two had been school-fellows, and both found it difficult to engage in vigorous diplomatic or military conflict with the Americans. To Sheaffe's credit, it should be said that he applied
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CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXIV.
It was long past midnight on the morning of Tuesday, October 13th, 1812, when Brock dismissed his advisory council of staff officers. An animated discussion had taken place over the strength of the enemy and the spot he might select to cross the river, for ruses had been resorted to by Van Bensselaer to deceive the British. "I dare not, gentlemen," said our hero, in opening the debate, "weaken my flanks at Niagara and Erie, though I realize I am leaving Queenston not properly protected. I have j
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CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXV.
Well into the half-light of morning, long after the last of his staff, Evans, Glegg and Macdonell, had departed, Brock sat alone at his headquarters at Fort George, writing rapidly. On the oak mantel, an antique clock chimed the passing of the historic hours, with deep, musical strokes. Was it presentiment—a clearer understanding that comes to men of active brain and acute perception, during solitary vigil in the silence of night, when, with heart and soul stripped, they stand on the threshold o
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CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVI.
Checking his reeking horse for a moment, Brock acknowledged with a smile the 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 few minutes," words which evoked much cheering. Then he breasted the rise at a canter, exposed to a galling enfilading fire of artillery, and running the gauntlet of the sniping of some invisible marksmen, reached the redan, half-way to the summit. Here he dismounted, threw his charger's reins
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CHAPTER XXVII.
CHAPTER XXVII.
After midnight, on the morning of the 11th, the American general, Van Rensselaer, believing, as he wrote, "that Brock, with all his disposable forces, had left for Detroit," launched from the Lewiston landing, under cover of the pitch darkness, thirteen boats capable of carrying 340 armed men. To Lieutenant Sims, "the man of the greatest skill in the American service," was entrusted the command. Sims entered the leading boat, and vanished in the gloom. Whether he had taken all the oars with him,
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CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
It was the crackling of the grenadiers' muskets, the bellowing of Vrooman's big gun, the cannonade of the twenty-four-pounders of the Lewiston batteries, the roar of the eighteen-pounder in the British redan, and the streak of crimson light from the long line of beacons which rent the sky from Fort Erie to Pelham Heights, that had wakened the citizens of Niagara and aroused Brock from his brief repose. Captain Wool, of the 13th U.S. regulars—Van Rensselaer being wounded in six places—hurried his
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CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXIX.
While these fateful and stirring scenes were being enacted at Queenston, a despatch rider arrived from Evans of Fort George. Without waiting for further instructions, he had, after Brock's departure, with the first glimpse of daylight, cannonaded Fort Niagara. This he did with typical thoroughness. His fire was returned with interest. With a license in direct opposition to the laws of battle, the enemy, under Captain Leonard, turned his guns on the village of Newark, bombarding public buildings
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CHAPTER XXX.
CHAPTER XXX.
At this moment Colonel Macdonell, excited and eager to participate, reached the foot of the mountain at the head of the supports for which the General had despatched him. These consisted of about thirty of Heward's flank company of militia and thirty of the 49th—almost breathless and much exhausted, having run most of the way. Brock's small force—those actually at his side—were Chisholm's and Cameron's companies of the Toronto and York volunteers—a mere handful of perhaps eighty all told. These,
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SUPPLEMENT
SUPPLEMENT
The "Story of Isaac Brock" would be incomplete without an epitome of the events that terminated the Battle of Queenston Heights and resulted in an overwhelming victory for the British. General Brock was killed in action at about half-past seven on the morning of October 13th, 1812. His body was removed from Government House, Niagara, to a cavalier bastion at Fort George, for final sepulture. This bastion was selected by Major Glegg, it being the one which Brock's own genius had lately suggested—
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APPENDIX.
APPENDIX.
Reproduction of a copy of the original water-color and chalk drawing in the possession of Sir Isaac Brock's great-niece, Miss Tupper, of Candee, Guernsey. Copied for Miss Agnes FitzGibbon, of Toronto, by Alyn Williams, President of the Miniature Painters' Association of Great Britain, 1897, and not hitherto published. Adjudged by relatives to be an exact facsimile of Williams' portrait. Miss FitzGibbon writes that "the original painting is on similar paper to that on which Major-General Brock's
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