Walter R. Nursey

“ 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. ”

“ 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." ”

“ Forward then, for King and country!
The rat-a-tat-tat of the kettle-drums, the clear-cut [Pg 107] whistle of the fifes, the resonant roll of the big drums, the steady tramp, tramp of armed men—and the human machine was in motion. ”