The Story of Isaac Brock Part 8

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

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

"Master Nichol," said Brock, turning in his saddle and returning the salute of the gallant Quartermaster, "I fully appreciate your kindly advice, 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, and I will never ask them to go where I do not lead."

Before him spread the plain, broken here and there with _coulees_ and clumps of bush. A partly fenced roadway, with some scattered houses on the river bank, but no barbed-wire entanglements, impeded his movements.

The introduction of such pleasant devices was left for a higher civilization!

The column was in motion. The steady onward tramp, tramp of this thin red line, raw recruit and grizzly veteran shoulder to shoulder, struck fear into the heart of the unfortunate Hull. The prospect, though his troops outnumbered the British three to one, was clearly war to the knife. Brock's meaning was apparent. Should he or should he not accept the Englishman's challenge? He could extract no comfort out of that solid scarlet front, bristling with naked steel, now fast approaching in battle array with even, ominous tread.

The siege-proof walls of the fort lay behind him. His irresolute heart grew faint, and in the flash of a flintlock in its pan, honour was sacrificed and fame cast to the winds. A brave army of martyrs, over 2,000 strong, was rightabout faced, and drinking the cup of humiliation, that only men of courage can drain to the bitter dregs, this army, eager to lock bayonets with the British, was actually ordered to retreat into the shelter of Fort Detroit!

[Ill.u.s.tration: LIEUT.-COLONEL JOHN MACDONELL]

CHAPTER XX.

BROCK'S VICTORY.

Reaching a ravine, Brock ordered up his artillery and prepared to a.s.sault. A sh.e.l.l 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 sh.e.l.l from the enemy's big guns, heard with grim satisfaction the General's orders to "prepare for a.s.sault."

The field-pieces were trained upon the fort, to cover the rush of the besiegers. The gunners, with bated breath and burning fuses, awaited the final command, when lo! an officer bearing a white flag emerged from the fort, while a boat with another flag of truce was seen crossing the river to the Sandwich battery. Macdonell and Glegg galloped out to meet the 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 a cessation of hostilities for an hour, for the purpose of entering into negotiations for the surrender of Detroit."

An hour later the British troops, with General Isaac Brock at their head, marched through the smiling fields and orchards, pa.s.sed over the fort draw-bridge, and, surrounded by a host of fierce-looking and indignant militia of Ohio and "the heroes of Tippecanoe," hauled down the Stars and Stripes--which had waved undisturbed over Fort Lernoult since its voluntary evacuation by the British in 1796--and, in default of a British ensign, hoisted a Union Jack--which a sailor had worn as a body-belt--over the surrendered fortress. British sentinels now guarded the ramparts. The bells of old St. Anne's saluted the colors. The "Grand Army of the West," by which pretentious t.i.tle Hull had seen fit to describe his invading force, melted like mist before the rising sun.

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

The terms of capitulation included not only one general officer and 2,500 men of all ranks--the would-be conquerors of Canada--2,500 stand of arms, 33 pieces of cannon, the _Adams_ brig of war, and immense quant.i.ties of stores and munitions, valued at 40,000--but Fort Shelby and the town of Detroit and 59,700 square miles of United States territory. Nor were these all, for the fort standard--to the wild delight of Tec.u.mseh's warriors--a highly-prized trophy, it being the "colours" of the 4th United States regiment, the vaunted "heroes of Tippecanoe," pa.s.sed into the keeping of the British.

Canada was saved!

It was then that those officers who strongly opposed Brock's determination to attack became suddenly wise after the event and eager to share the honour. The temptation to improve the opportunity, to any man less strong than our hero, would have been irresistible, but there was no display of vainglory, no cheap boasting. The sword of the conquered American general was accepted with manly deference and the consideration due to his rank, and he was told, without solicitation on his part, he could return to the United States on parole. Then Brock hurriedly dictated a brief and modest despatch apprising Sir George Prevost of the "capture of this very important post," and quite realizing that he was merely an instrument in the hands of Providence, and grat.i.tude and the happiness of those he held most dear being uppermost in his mind, the captor of Detroit wrote this characteristic letter.

"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 n.o.ble fashion General Brock--"Master Isaac of St. Peter's Port"--overcame the enemy in the wilds of Michigan and pa.s.sed his _fourth_ milestone.

CHAPTER XXI.

CHAGRIN IN THE UNITED STATES.

The conduct of the Indians under Tec.u.mseh 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 Tec.u.mseh'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 Indian's finely chiselled face 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, "accept the simple sash of the Shawanese in return?"

To this there was a sequel. The next day, when he bade Brock farewell, Tec.u.mseh wore no sash. "Roundhead," he explained, "was an older, an abler warrior than himself. While he was present he could not think of wearing such a badge of distinction." He had given the sash to the Wyandotte chieftain. Tec.u.mseh proved himself a greater diplomat than Hull.

The papers of surrender signed, Brock hastened to liberate Dean, a soldier of the 41st, wounded and taken prisoner at the Canard river, with another man, while gallantly defending the bridge against a large body of the enemy. In a voice broken with emotion Brock told him that he had "n.o.bly upheld the traditions of the service and was an honour to his profession." Then he singled out Lieutenant Roulette, of the sloop _Hunter_, a French Canadian, who captured eighteen prizes during the war and was the leading spirit in many gallant events. "I watched you during the action," said the General. "You behaved like a lion. I will remember you." In the orders of that afternoon Brock praised the conduct of his troops. He laid stress upon the "discipline and determination that had decided an enemy, infinitely more numerous in men and artillery, and protected by a strong fortification, to propose capitulation."

The effect of the news in Upper Canada was electrical. Brock became the idol of the people and was acclaimed "hero and saviour of Upper Canada."

His performance was a record one. In nineteen days he had met the Legislature, settled important public business, transported a small army 300 miles, 200 of which was by open boat in stormy waters, compelled the surrender of an enemy three times his strength, entrenched in a protected fort, and seized 60,000 square miles of United States mainland and islands.

To the American people the news came as a thunder-clap. President Madison's chagrin was indescribable. After all the insulting remarks and bombastic prophecies of himself and Clay, Calhoun, Eustis and others, the humiliation was as gall and wormwood. Clay, the apostate, later on swallowed his words and signed the treaty of peace. Eustis, the Secretary of War, had boasted that he would "take the whole country and ask no favours, for G.o.d has given us the power and the means." But G.o.d saw fit to confound the despoiler. Hull was, of course, made a scapegoat. Tried by court-martial, he was found guilty of cowardice and neglect, and sentenced to death, but pardoned by the President. His son died fighting at Lundy's Lane. The officers of Hull's command, who were almost united in opposing surrender, as brave men felt their position keenly. Never let us forget that no one race holds a monopoly in courage, that no nation has exclusive control of the spirit of patriotism. Fortunate it is indeed for most of us that the loftier qualities of man can not be copyrighted by the individual. A share of these has been bestowed in wise proportion upon all members of the human family. To those who seek to emulate the character and deeds of the world's famous men, certain essential qualities of mind may even be acquired and developed by all, but to possess the "fullness of perfection" cannot be the lot of every man.

Having finished "the business" that took him to Detroit, our hero did not waste an hour. Leaving Procter in command, he started before morning of the next day for Fort George, anxious to carry out his plans and a.s.sume the offensive on the Niagara frontier.

He embarked in the _Chippewa_, a small trading schooner, with seventy of the Ohio Rifles as prisoners, and took, as a guard, a rifle company commanded by his young friend, Captain Robinson, subsequently Chief Justice Robinson, "again winning golden opinions from the men by his urbanity."

On Lake Erie he met the _Lady Prevost_, of fourteen guns, the commander of 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 the American general, Dearborn, on August 9th! Brock's mortification was profound. His cherished plan, to sweep the Niagara frontier and destroy the United States naval a.r.s.enal at Sackett's Harbour, was again frustrated.

A diversion occurred that morning which for a time drove the unpardonable armistice from Brock's thoughts. A heavy mist hung over the water. It hid the sh.o.r.e. Deceived by this, the skipper of the _Chippewa_, who thought he was in Fort Erie harbour, discovered, as the fog lifted, that they were on the American side and close to Buffalo.

The situation was perilous and dramatic. With the melting of the haze the wind dropped. Brock saw on the Buffalo sh.o.r.e, within easy hail, a concourse of inquisitive people trying to make out the nationality of his ship. Believing the skipper, was in league with the enemy, Brock turned upon him savagely.

"You scoundrel," said he, "you have betrayed me. Let but one shot be fired and I will run you up at the yard-arm." Fortunately, the _Queen Charlotte_, in Canadian water, was seen and signalled, and, the wind rising, she convoyed the _Chippewa_ and her precious pa.s.senger into safety.

The news of the armistice dumbfounded the General. Instead of battering Fort Niagara and attacking Sackett's Harbour, he had to order Procter to cancel the expedition for the relief of Fort Wayne, in the Wabash country, and himself hurry on to Fort George. At Chippewa he was received with wild welcome by the river residents and the populace from the countryside. A deputation of prominent men met him at Queenston, placed him in an open carriage, and with martial music he was escorted in triumph to Fort George. After receiving at Niagara the congratulations of the lady to whom he was engaged, Brock took schooner for York and Kingston. At both of these places fervid demonstrations were showered upon him. But "Master Isaac's" head could not be turned either by success or adulation. The old spirit of self-effacement a.s.serted itself. "The gallant band of brave men," he said, "at whose head I marched against the enemy, are the proper objects of your grat.i.tude. The services of the militia have been duly appreciated and will never be forgotten."

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

Justice Powell voiced the views of the citizens of Upper Canada when he declared Brock could "boast of the most brilliant success, with the most inadequate means, which history records.... It was something fabulous that a handful of troops, supported by a few raw militia, could invade the country of an enemy of doubtful numbers, in his own fortress, and make all prisoners without the loss of a man."

"If this sort of thing lasts," commented our hero to a friend, "I am afraid I shall do some foolish thing, for if I know myself there is no want of what is called courage in my nature, and I can only hope I shall not be led into some sc.r.a.pe."

[Ill.u.s.tration: VIEW OF QUEENSTON HEIGHTS AND BROCK'S MONUMENT]