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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-GENERAL
SIR ISAAC BROCK]




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 determined enemy.

His success can be measured by the fact that it is only since the war of
1812-14 that the British flag has been properly respected in the western
hemisphere. It is also a fact that after the capture of Detroit the
Union Jack became more firmly rooted in the affections of the Canadian
people than ever.

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

What with the timidity of Prevost, and the tactical blunders of both
himself and Sheaffe, the immediate influence upon the enemy of the
victories at Detroit and Queenston was almost nullified. Had Brock
survived Queenston, or even had his fixed, militant policy been allowed
to prevail from the first, it is safe to say there would have been no
armistice, no placating of a clever, intriguing foe, and no two years'
prolongation of the war. Had the capitulation of Detroit, the crushing
defeat at Queenston, and the wholesale desertion of Wadsworth's cowardly
legions at Lewiston, been followed up by the British with relentless
assault "all along the line"--before the enemy had time to recover his
grip--then our hero's feasible plan, which he had pleaded with Prevost
to permit, namely, to sweep the Niagara frontier and destroy Sackett's
Harbor--the key to American naval supremacy of the lakes--could, there
is no good reason to doubt, have been carried out. The purpose of this
little book is not, however, to deal in surmises.

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

Many a famous man owes a debt of inspiration to some other great life
that went before him. Not until every boy in Canada is thoroughly
familiar with "Master Isaac's" achievements will he be qualified to
exclaim 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 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 Casquets
cradle the skeleton of many a stout ship, while above the level of the
sea the amethyst peaks of Sark rise like phantom bergs. In the sunlight
the rainbow-coloured slopes of Le Gouffre jut upwards a jumble of glory.
Exposed to the full fury of an Atlantic gale, these islands are
well-nigh obliterated in drench. From where the red gables cluster on
the heights of Fort George, which overhang the harbour, to the thickets
of Jerbourg, valley and plain, at the time we write of, were a gorgeous
carpet of anemones, daffodils, primroses and poppies.

These are tumultuous latitudes. Sudden hurricanes, with the
concentrated force of the German Ocean behind them, soon scourge the sea
into a whirlpool and extinguish every landmark in a pall of gray. For
centuries tumult and action have been other names for the Channel
Islands. It is no wonder that the inhabitants partake of the nature of
their surroundings. Contact with the elements produces a love for
combat. As this little book is largely a record of strife, and of one of
Guernsey's greatest fighting sons, it may be well to recall the efforts
that preceded the birth of our hero and influenced his career, and
through which Guernsey retained its liberties.

For centuries Guernsey had been whipped into strife. From the raid upon
her independence by David Bruce, the exiled King of Scotland, early in
1300, on through the centuries up to the seventeenth, piping times of
peace were few and far between. The resources of the island led to
frequent invasions from France, but while fighting and resistance did
not 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 a
rule the sojourn of these invaders was brief. When sore pressed in a
pitched battle on the plateau above St. Peter's Port, the inhabitants
would retreat behind the buttresses of Castle Cornet, when, as in the
invasion by Charles V. of France, the fortress proving impregnable, the
besiegers would collect their belongings and sail away.

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

Late in the fourteenth century, when the English were driven out of
France, not a few of those deported, who had the fighting propensity
well developed, made haste for the Channel Islands, where rare chances
offered to handle an arquebus for the King. Among those who sought
refuge 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 of
Derval in Brittany, a man "stout of figure and valiant of heart." This
harbour 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 Hugh
Brock, or Badger in the ancient Saxon time--an apt name for a tenacious
fighter--shook hands with fate. He espied the rocky cape of St.
Jerbourg, and ofttimes from its summit he would shape bold plans for the
future, the maturing of which meant much to those of his race destined
to follow.

The commercial growth of the Channel Islands has been divided into five
periods, those of fishing, knitting (the age of the garments known as
"jerseys" and "guernseys"), privateering, smuggling, and agriculture and
commerce. To the third period belong these records. The prosperity of
the islands was greatest from the middle of the seventeenth century up
to the overthrow of Napoleon at Waterloo and the close of Canada's
successful fight against invasion in 1815. During this period the
building of ships for the North Atlantic and Newfoundland trade opened
new highways for commerce, but the greatest factor in this development
was the "reputable business" of privateering, which must not be
confounded either with buccaneering or yard-arm piracy. It was only
permitted under regular letters of marque, was ranked as an honorable
occupation, and those bold spirits, the wild "beggars of the sea"--who
preferred the cutlass and a roving commission in high latitudes to
ploughing up the cowslips in the Guernsey valleys, or knitting striped
shirts at home--were recognized as good fighting men and acceptable
enemies.

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

Notable in the "exclusive set," not only on account of his athletic
figure and handsome face, but for his winning manners and ability to
dance, though but a boy, was Isaac Brock. Isaac--a distant descendant of
bold Sir Hugh--was the eighth son of John Brock, formerly a midshipman
in the Royal Navy, a man of much talent and, like his son, of great
activity. Brock, the father, did not enjoy the fruit of his industry
long, for in 1777, in his 49th year, he died in Brittany, leaving a
family of fourteen children. Of ten sons, Isaac, destined to become "the
hero and defender of Upper Canada," was then a flaxen-haired boy of
eight.

Anno Domini 1769 will remain a memorable one in the history of the
empire. Napoleon, the conqueror of Europe, and Wellington, the conqueror
of 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, the
Isaac referred to, also ordained to become "a man of destiny." Isaac's
future domain was that greater, though then but little known, dominion
beyond the seas, Canada--a territory of imperial extent, whose resources
at that time came within the range of few men's understanding. Isaac
Brock, as has been shown, came of good fighting stock, was of clean
repute and connected with most of the families of high degree on the
Island. The de Beauvoirs, Saumarez, de Lisles, Le Marchants, Careys,
Tuppers and many others distinguished in arms or diplomacy, were his
kith and kin. His mind saturated with the stories of the deeds of his
ancestors, and possessed of a spirit of adventure developed by constant
contact with soldiers and sailors, it was but natural that he became
cast in a fighting mould and that "to be a soldier" was the height of
his ambition.

Perhaps Isaac Brock's chief charm, which he retained in a marked degree
in after life--apart from his wonderful thews and sinews, his stature
and athletic skill--was his extreme modesty and gentleness. The fine old
maxim 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 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 royal court. Even here he did not always escape intruders. Outside
the harbour of St. Peter's Port, separated by an arm of the sea, rose
the Ortach Rock, between the Casquets and "Aurigny's Isle," a haunted
spot, once the abode of a sorcerer named Jochmus. To secure quiet he
would frequently visit this isolated place, in spite of the resident
devil, the devil-fish, or the devil-strip of treacherous water which ran
between.

He was not ten when, to the amazement of his friends in imitation of
Leander but without the same inducements, he swam the half mile to the
reefs of Castle Cornet and back again, through a boiling sea and
rip-tides that ran like mill-races. This performance he repeated again
and again. For milder amusement he would tramp to the water-lane that
stole through the Moulin Huet, a bower of red roses and perfume, or walk
by moonlight to the mystic cromlechs, where the early pagans and the
warlocks 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 the
valiant order, the quality that accompanies a lofty soul in a strong
body. For his constant courtesy and habit of making sacrifices for his
friends, he was in danger of being canonized by his school-fellows.

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

Isaac's holidays, always spent in his beloved Guernsey, increased the
thirst for adventure. The spirit of conquest, the controlling influence
of his after life, grew upon him. Something accomplished, something
done, was the daily rule. To scale an impossible cliff with the wings of
circling sea-fowl beating in his face, to land a big conger eel without
receiving a shock, to rescue a partridge from a falcon, to shoot a
rabbit at fifty paces, to break a wild pony, or even to scan a
complicated line in his syntax--these were achievements, small perhaps,
but typical of his desire. His young soul was stirred; the blood coursed
in his veins as the sap courses in the trees of the forest in spring;
his mind, susceptible to the influences of nature, was strengthened and
purified 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 solitary
outings. These jaunts, he told his mother, gave him time to reflect and
resolve. It was not strange that he selected a profession that presented
the opportunities he craved.

* * * * *

England with folded arms was at peace. The Treaty of Versailles had
terminated the disastrous war with America. The independence of the
"Thirteen States" had been recognized. The world was drawing a long
breath, filling its fighting lungs, awaiting the death struggle with
Napoleon for the supremacy of Europe. Yet the spirit of war lingered in
the 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. It
invaded the valleys of the Petit Bot and stirred the bulrushes in the
marshes of Havelet. The pulse of our hero throbbed with the subtle
infection. Not with the brute lust for other men's blood, but with the
instinct of the true patriot to shed, if need be, his own blood to
maintain the right. He would follow the example of his ancestors and
fight and die, if duty called him, in defence of king and country.

The sweet arrogance of youth uplifted him. Earth, air and water
conspired to encourage him. To satisfy this unspoken craving for action
he would, from his outlook on the Jerbourg crags--where bold Sir Hugh
had sat for just such purpose years before--watch the Weymouth luggers
making bad weather of it beyond the Casquets; or challenge in his own
boat the rip-tides between Sark and Brechou, and the combers that romped
between St. Sampson and the Isle of Herm.

There was no limit to this boy's hardihood and daring. The more furious
the gale the more congenial the task. Returning from these frequent
baptisms of salt water, his Saxon fairness and Norman freshness aglow
with spray, he would loiter on the beach to talk to the kelp gatherers
raking amid the breakers, and to watch the mackerel boats, reefed down,
flying to the harbour for shelter. The crayfish in the pools would tempt
him, he would try his hand at sand-eeling, or watch the surf men feed a
devil-fish to the crabs. Then up the gray benches of the furrowed
cliffs, starred with silver lichens and stone-crop, to where ploughmen
were leaving glistening furrows in the big parsnip fields. Then on
through the tangle of sweet-briar, honeysuckle and wild roses, where
birds nested in the perfumed foliage, until, the summit reached,
surrounded by purple heather and golden gorse, he would look on the sea
below, with Sark, like a "basking whale, burning in the sunset." Then he
would hurry to tell his mother of the day's exploits, retiring to dream
of strange lands and turbulent scenes, in which the roll of drums and
roar of cannon seemed never absent.

With his youthful mind possessed with the exploits of the King's
soldiers in Europe and America, and influenced by his brother John's
example--then captain in the 8th Regiment of the line--Isaac pleaded
successfully to enter the army. To better prepare for this all-important
step, and to become proficient in French, a necessary accomplishment, it
was arranged, though he was only fifteen, to place him with a
Protestant clergyman in Rotterdam for one year, to complete his
education.

His vacations now were few; his visits to the Island flying ones. But
the old life still fascinated him. His physique developed as the weeks
flew by, and he became more and more a striking personality. This was
doubly true, for while he remained the champion swimmer, he was also the
best 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 sense
of his educational deficiencies kept him at his books.

He had only passed his sixteenth birthday when, one wild March morning
in 1785, he was handed an important-looking document. It was a parchment
with the King's seal attached, his commission of ensign in the 8th
Regiment. Isaac at once joined the regimental depot in England. It was
evident that his lack of learning would prove a barrier to promotion. He
found that much of the leisure hitherto devoted to athletic sports must
be given to study. Behind "sported oak," while dust accumulated on
boxing-glove and foil--neither the banter of his brother officers nor
his love for athletics inducing him to break the resolution--he bent to
his 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 fairly
be divided into five periods. When he crossed the threshold of his
Guernsey 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 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 him was well blazed, but straight or crooked, rough or smooth,
valley or height, it mattered little so long as he kept nourished the
bright light of purpose that burned steadily within him.

Five years of uneventful service, chiefly in England, passed by, and our
hero was celebrating his coming of age. His only inheritance was health,
hope and courage. While neither monk nor hermit, he had so far been as
steadfast as the Pole Star in respect to his resolutions. He had allowed
nothing to induce him to break the rules engraved on brass that he had
himself imposed. His mind had broadened, his spirits ran high, his
conscience told him that he was graduating in the world's university
with honour. His love for athletics still continued. He had the thews of
a gladiator, and in his Guernsey stockings stood six feet two inches.
Add to this an honest countenance, with much gentleness of manner and
great determination, and you have a faithful picture of Isaac Brock.

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

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