Brock

“ Brock was so much pleased with this gift that he said nothing about his swollen hand; and when Sindri asked him to keep his place at the bellows, he willingly agreed.
The smith then threw a lump of gold into the flames; and bidding Brock keep the fire at white heat, he again left the cave. Brock began to work harder than ever at the bellows; and as the fire glowed so that it seemed like daylight in the room, the gadfly flew at him and stung him on the neck. ”

“ Had Brock's handful of loyalists been able to rush headlong, spurred by lust of conflict, and lock bayonets with the enemy, another tale might have been told. But the effect of the futile struggle for foothold on the hillside, seamed with slippery depressions, in the teeth of a blizzard of lead, soon showed. The bullet-swept ascent was a cruel test for men already fagged and faint. As for our hero, though storm-beaten, stained with mud, and hungry as a wolf, he was still the same indomitable youth who had scaled the cut cliffs of Cobo in search of seagulls' eggs. ”

“ Sometimes on his nightly rounds Brock would pass one of these places, and would make haste to get away from the neighbourhood, for his scent was exceedingly keen, and he knew the number of the visitors as certainly as though he had been out during the daytime. The fear of man had come to him quite naturally, it was part of his life to dread and avoid this relentless enemy, just as it was his rule to range the woods by night and to retire to his earth when the sun came out of the east heralded by the pageant of the morning twilight. ”

“ 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. ”

“ Brock’s thoughts were far afield; Nancy’s were fixed upon the man at her side. In all sincerity, she did rejoice at his unexpected tidings. No sentimental regrets entered into her perfect content. Her friendship for Brock had been friendship pure and simple; on neither side had it ever been mingled with a thought of love. From chance playmates of an October holiday, they had grown into a loyal liking which was to outlast many a dividing year and mile. And Brock deserved all good things, even the love of this dainty bit of girlhood whose eyes smiled bravely back into her own. ”

“ What the Englishman is in the field, Brock is in the pulpit. You are borne down by his weight. He gives you no chance. On comes the tide, and you are swept away. You are learned—evidently the man before you has little more than the average learning picked up in a hurry, in a second-rate academic institution. You like to theorise on the beautiful and divine—the preacher before you cares nothing for your flimsy network, born of Plato and Schelling. You explain away and refine—Brock does nothing of the kind: ‘It is in the Bible—it is there!’ he exclaims, and that is sufficient for him. ”

“ Nobody broke down at Brock's name; everybody exulted in the splendid episode of his heroism, months back, which had won him the war cross. The letter from Jim Colledge and his own birthday letter, garrulous and gay, were read. Brock had known well that the day would be hard to get through and had made that letter out of brutal cheerfulness. Yet every one felt his longing to be at the celebration, missed for the first time in his life, pulsing through the words. Young Hugh read it and made it sweet with a lovely devotion to and pride in his brother. ”

“ In the open were broad orchards bending under their harvest of red and yellow fruit—apples and plums, peaches, nectarines and cherries—and extensive vineyards. Huge sugar maples challenged giant pear trees, whose gnarled trunks had resisted the storms of a century. To the north the floor of the forest was interlaced with trails, which, with the intention of deceiving Hull's spies as to the strength of Brock's forces, had been crossed and recrossed, and countermarched and doubled over, by the soldiers and Tecumseh's half-naked braves. ”

“ As I shoved my canoe into the water, en voyage for Wagoshene, the prayers of Wawatam rang in my ears as, standing on the yellow 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 latent qualities for good that seem to underlie the outward ferocity of some redmen, firmness and kindness are alone needed to convert them into faithful friends." ”

“ They set out to the accompaniment of the booming of the guns from the Hunter and the Queen Charlotte, which were in the river just above what is now the city of Windsor. Many of Brock’s men were quite new to the idea of conflict, and doubtless the thoughts of men before battle then were much the same as they are now. But the sun rose high in the heavens, and the hearts of the men rose with it. ”

“ 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." ”

“ It is not given to many notable men to fall in the very midst of spectacular success; it can easily be believed that General Brock, being the man we know him to have been, would have made the best use of his triumph, and that it would have been but a stepping-stone to enlarged opportunities where each duty in its turn would have received the same [257] decent, earnest attention that the man gave to his work throughout those half-unhappy days when he felt marooned in the wilds of a dreary ocean, where no one could prove his merit, calibre, or knowledge. ”

“ Brock had not been long in Canada before trouble began in the regiment. He had an idea that one of his men, Carr by name, was waiting his chance to desert. He questioned him closely, but the man was sullen. “Tell me the truth like a man,” said Brock. “You know I have always treated you kindly.” The man broke down at the words and tone of his commander and confessed that he and others were planning to desert to the United States. Here we see that Brock was a man who knew human nature. ”

“ 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 despatch announcing that the enemy had landed in force at Queenston. A second later, in response to the pressure of his knees, his horse was carrying our hero at a wild gallop across the common that separated his quarters from the upper village.
Day was near to breaking. The earth steamed from the heavy rain. Passing objects rose out of the dark mists, magnified and spectral. ”

“ The appointment of Brock in October, 1811, to the chief command at the point of greatest danger was for the British a piece of good fortune, or good judgment, more rare than could have been appreciated at the time, even though Dearborn, Hull, Winchester, Wilkinson, Sir George Prevost himself, and Colonel Proctor were examples of the common standard. Brock was not only a man of unusual powers, but his powers were also in their prime. Neither physical nor mental fatigue such as followed his rivals’ exertions paralyzed his plans. No scruples about bloodshed stopped him midway to victory. ”

“ Sending messengers to bid General Sheaffe hurry the troops from Fort George, and other runners to bring up the troops from Chippewa behind the Americans on Queenston Heights, Brock charged up the hill amid shriek of bombs and clatter of sharpshooters. He had dismounted and was scrambling over a stone wall. "Follow me, boys!" he shouted to the British grenadiers; then at the foot of the hill, waving his sword: "Now take a breath; you will need it! Come on! come on!" and he led the rush of two hundred men in scarlet coats to dislodge the Americans. A shot pierced his wrist. ”

“ Even over the minds of the Indians Sir Isaac Brock gained, at and after the capture of Detroit, an ascendancy altogether unexampled, and which he judiciously exercised for purposes conducive equally to the cause of humanity and to the interests of his country. He engaged them to throw aside the scalping knife, implanted in their breasts the virtues of clemency and forbearance, and taught them to feel pleasure and pride in the compassion extended to a vanquished enemy. ”

“ To think and to judge rightly under some of the most appalling circumstances that ever surrounded mortal man, to reject the delusive for the arduous, to resolve and to execute, form such a combination of the best and rarest attributes of our nature, that where are we to look for them in the same man? Brock at the time of this disastrous affair was thirty-one years of age, a fine, stout, athletic man, and as upright in his life and conversation as he was in his very handsome person. ”

“ He saw the gadfly dart into the forge. He screamed as it flew round and round him, searching out a place where it might sting him most fearfully. It lighted down on his forehead, just between his eyes. The first sting it gave took the sight from his eyes. It stung again and Brock felt the blood flowing down. Darkness filled the cave. Brock tried to keep his hands steady on the bellows, but he did not know whether the fire was blazing up or dying down. He shouted and Sindri hurried up. ”

“ Tropical malaria is hard to shake off. Release from duty was imperative, and as England was now calling for recruits, the War Office summoned Brock, an alluring sample of a soldier, to whom was assigned the task of licking the fighting country bumpkin—the raw material—into shape. This he did, first in England, then in Guernsey and Jersey. A vision of our hero, glorious in his uniform, was in itself sufficient to ensnare the senses of any country yokel. ”

“ No rules were followed as to the order of going—the ground, to use Brock's words, was too rough, "like a sea in a heavy 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 naked steel and screams of agony. Then cheer upon cheer, as the British swept irresistibly on, and the enemy, declining to face the glittering bayonets and unable to resist the impact of the English, wavered, broke and retreated.
The shedding of men's blood by man is never an edifying spectacle. ”

“ 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. ”

“ Here, the wind being favourable, lug-sails were hoisted and Brock's strange fleet started for Kingston, reaching it after twelve days' toil from Lachine, then coasting further along Lake Ontario to Little York (Toronto) . When wind failed, the long oars were used, the men rising from the thwarts to pull, standing. Thus, alternately sitting and rising, pulling in unison, the light-hearted voyageurs would break into one of their wild French chants, quaint with catching refrain, in which our hero soon learned to join. ”

“ As they drew closer, scarlet uniform and polished bayonet blazed and flashed in the sunshine. Having been heavily reinforced, he detached a party of 150 picked regulars, and with these moved out to meet the small band of British led by Brock. A brief exchange of shots took place, and the Americans fell back, firing.
Though the rain had ceased the trees were gemmed with drops that still dripped. The ground was strewn with wet leaves, slippery, and affording treacherous foothold. Progress was slow and laborious. As the hillside grew steeper, a man here and there slid, lurched and fell. ”

“ 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 asserted itself. "The gallant band of brave men," he said, "at whose head I marched against the enemy, are the proper objects of your gratitude. The services of the militia have been duly appreciated and will never be forgotten." ”

“ His own force now consisted of 500 men, over 300 of whom were regulars. Notwithstanding his much greater strength and vastly superior position, being protected by artificial brush-shelters and logs, and the withering fire with which he met the dogged progress of the British, his flanks, pressed by Williams and Macdonell, 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 was conscious of the beauty of the country spread beneath him. ”

“ It was this spirit of unrest among the people of Quebec [Pg 58] that moved Sir James Craig to keep Brock within easy reach until the growing discord in Upper 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 ventured to 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." ”