The Story of Isaac Brock - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel The Story of Isaac Brock Part 3 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
CHAPTER VII.
MUTINY AND DESERTION.
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 "marauding." And there were other modes of torture. This was close upon the heels of a period when even the slightest breaches of the civil law were punished out of all proportion to the offence. While insisting on the strictest discipline, Brock always tempered justice with mercy.
Few men better realized the value of a pleasant word or had in such degree the rare tact that permitted familiarity without killing respect.
A terrible incident occurred in the summer of 1803 which tested all Brock's fort.i.tude and conception of duty. A conspiracy to mutiny was discovered at Fort George on the Niagara River. The methods of the commanding officer had exasperated the men until they planned mutiny on a large scale. This included the murder of Colonel Sheaffe and the incarceration of the other officers. A threatening remark by a soldier of the 49th was overheard. He was arrested and put in irons. A confession by another soldier implicated a well-known sergeant, and a message was sent to York begging Brock's immediate presence.
Our hero landed from the schooner alone. It was dinner hour. The barrack-square, as Brock crossed it to the guard-house, was deserted. In charge of the guard he found two of the suspected ringleaders. The guard presented arms. "Sergeant," said the colonel of towering frame and commanding aspect, "come here. Lay down your pike." The order was promptly complied with. "Take off your sword and sash and lay them down also." This was done. "Corporal O'Brien," said the colonel, addressing the sergeant's brother-conspirator, "bring a pair of handcuffs, put them on this sergeant, lock him up in a cell, and bring me the key." This, too, was done. "Now, corporal, you come here; lay down your arms, take off your accoutrements, and lay them down also." He was obeyed. Turning to the right man of the guard, "Come here, you grenadier. Bring a pair of handcuffs and put them on this corporal, lock him up in another cell, and bring me the key." When this was done, turning to the astounded drummer, our hero said, "Drummer, beat to arms."
The garrison was aroused. First to rush out was Lieutenant Williams, sword in hand. "Williams!" said the Colonel, "go instantly and secure Rock"--a former sergeant, recently reduced. "If he hesitates to obey, even for one second, cut him down." Up the stairs flew Williams, calling to Rock to come down. "Yes, sir," answered Rock, "when I take my arms."
"You must come without them," said Williams. "Oh, I must have my arms, sir," and as Rock stretched out his hand to seize his musket in the arm-rack, Williams shouted, "If you lay one finger on your musket I will cut you down," at the same time drawing his sabre. "Now, go down before me." Rock obeyed, was placed in irons, and within half an hour Clark, O'Brien, and nine other mutineers were embarked for York on the schooner.
What a picture rises before us. The mid-day sun, the glittering barrack-square, the scarlet and white tunics and polished side-arms of the frightened soldiers, with Brock, the embodiment of power and stern justice, towering above the shrinking culprits. Expiation of the offence had yet to follow. The appet.i.te of the law had to be appeased. The trial took place at Quebec. Four mutineers and three deserters were condemned to death, and in the presence of the entire garrison were executed. The details of this are best unwritten. Through a shocking blunder, the firing party discharged their carbines when fifty yards distant, instead of advancing to within eight yards of the victims. The harrowing scene rent Brock's heart. That the men who had fought so bravely under him at Egmont and laughed at the carnage at Copenhagen should end their lives in this manner was inexpressibly sad. After reading the account of the execution of their comrades to the men on parade at Fort George, Brock added, "Since I have had the honour to wear the British uniform I have never felt grief like this." The prisoners publicly declared that had they continued under our hero's command they would have escaped their doom, "being the victims of unruly pa.s.sions inflamed by vexatious authority."
When Brock a.s.sumed command every possible privilege was extended to the troops at Fort George. For every request, however trivial, he knew there was some reason. His mind was big enough to trade in trifles.
In view of these desertions, the prospect of hostilities between Canada and the United States became a momentous one. By close study of events in France and America and intercourse with prominent United States citizens, Brock detected the signs that precede trouble.
But the grave question of desertion and the war-cloud on the horizon could not occupy our hero's attention to the exclusion of other demands upon his time. Canada's growing importance was attracting many travellers from over-seas. Notable among these was Thomas Moore, the brilliant Irish poet, who was our hero's guest at Fort George for two weeks in the summer of 1803. Every attraction that the peninsula presented was taxed for his entertainment. Of these diversions the one which probably left the most lasting impression on the versatile son of Erin was a gathering of the Tuscarora warriors, under Chief Brant, at the Indian encampment on the Grand River.
"Here," wrote Moore, in one of his celebrated epistles, "the Mohawks received us in all their ancient costumes. The young men ran races for our amus.e.m.e.nt, and gave an exhibition game of ball, while the old men and the women sat in groups under the surrounding forest trees. The scene altogether was as beautiful as it was new to me. To Colonel Brock, in command of the fort, I am particularly indebted for his many kindnesses during the fortnight I remained with him."
It was while Moore was paddling down the St. Lawrence with his Caughnawaga voyageurs, after leaving Niagara--where he saw the fountains of the great deep broken up--that he composed his celebrated boat-song:
"Faintly as tolls the evening chime, Our voices keep tune and our oars keep time.
Soon as the woods on sh.o.r.e look dim, We'll sing at St. Ann's our parting hymn.
Row, brothers, row! the stream runs fast, The rapids are near, and the daylight's past!"
In the fall of 1805 our hero was gazetted full colonel, and returned to England on leave. While he had lost none of the buoyancy of his youth, he was daily realizing the fullness of his responsibilities.
For the better defence of Canada, he submitted to the Duke of York, the Commander-in-Chief, a suggestion for the forming of a veteran battalion.
He quoted the case of the U.E. Loyalists, who after the Revolutionary war, had been granted small tracts in Upper Canada; contrasting their perfect conduct with the practices of some of the settlers ten years later, whose loyalty, from his own observation, would not stand the test. Our hero, who was warmly thanked by the Duke for his zeal, was now regarded as a person to be reckoned with. His abilities and charm of manner had won him a reputation at the Horse Guards.
He returned to Guernsey to receive the congratulations of those brothers "who loved him so dearly," but had not time to tell the graphic story of his sojourn in Canada or revisit the haunts of his boyhood, for news arrived from the United States of so warlike a character that he returned before his leave expired. He overtook at Cork the _Lady Saumarez_, a well-manned Guernsey privateer, armed with letters of marque, and bound for Quebec. Leaving London on the 26th of June, 1806, he set sail for Canada, never to return to those to whom he had so endeared himself by his splendid qualities.
[Ill.u.s.tration: RUINS OF OLD POWDER MAGAZINE, FORT GEORGE]
CHAPTER VIII.
FRANCE, THE UNITED STATES AND CANADA.
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, regarding the fortifications of the Citadel. To-day deep in plans for mobilizing the militia and the formation of a Scotch volunteer corps of Glengarry settlers; to-morrow devising the best way of utilizing an Indian force in the event of war. In June, 1807, the affair between the British gunboat _Leopard_ and the American frigate _Chesapeake_ occurred. The former boarded the latter in search of deserters, and on being challenged, gave the _Chesapeake_ a broadside. While the _Leopard_ was clearly in the wrong, the United States Government rejected every offer of reparation made by Britain. Then came retaliation. French vessels--though France was at war with Britain--were actually allowed by the United States, a neutral power, full freedom of its harbours. The s.h.i.+ps of Britain, a power at peace with the United States of America, were refused the same privilege.
For a proper understanding of the position we must unroll a page of history. Napoleon, though he crushed the Prussians at Jena, could not efface the memory of his own humiliation at Trafalgar. His ears tingled.
He was waiting to deliver a blow that would equalize the destruction of his fleet by Nelson. Though Britain remained mistress of the seas, surely, thought the "little corporal," a way could be found to humble her. If her sources of food supply, for instance, could be cut off, "the wings of her war-s.h.i.+ps would be clipped."
To this end Napoleon issued an arrogant proclamation, which was of far-reaching effect. It authorized the destruction of all British goods and all colonial produce s.h.i.+pped to any European port by a British vessel. It allowed the seizure by France of all s.h.i.+ps, of whatever nation, which had even _called_ at a British port. To this the United States raised no objection, though it was in violation of the world's law in respect to nations which were at peace with each other. The United States' President evidently believed that British resentment at Napoleon's decree would sooner or later provide the United States with an excuse for a disagreement with Britain. He was not mistaken. Britain at once announced that she in her turn would prohibit the s.h.i.+ps of other nations visiting French ports until they had first called at a British port. But two wrongs do not make a right. England also, being short of seamen by desertion, insisted that she had the right to search for British seamen on American vessels.
This was a questionable proceeding, and not always carried out in the most amiable manner, as the _Chesapeake_ incident proves, and occasionally led to seizing American seamen, native-born citizens of the United States, in mistake for British-born deserters.
Meanwhile Brock found "the military and the people of Quebec divided by opposing elements of dissatisfaction." His call for one thousand men for two months to complete the defences of the Citadel was met by the Provincial Government with what was practically a refusal. He persisted in his purpose, and despite drawbacks which would have deterred a less dominant nature, he erected a battery, mounting eight thirty-six pound guns, raised upon a cavalier bastion, in the centre of the Citadel, so as to command the opposite heights of Point Levis.
Alive to the probability of invasion, and to the defenceless state of the Canadian frontier and the extreme apathy of the Quebec Government, Colonel Brock warned the War Office. He stated that, as the means at his disposal were quite inadequate to oppose an enemy in the field, with a provincial frontier of 500 miles, he would perforce confine himself to the defence of the city of Quebec. The Lower Canadians, willing to undergo training, had formed themselves into corps of cavalry, artillery and infantry, at no expense to the Government, but the Government gave them no encouragement.
This was the state of affairs in Quebec when Lieutenant-General Sir James Craig arrived to take office as Governor-General of the British Provinces in North America as well as Commander of the Forces. Brock soon became the _confidant_ of the new administrator, who was not slow to observe the exceptional capacity of our hero. The day came all too quickly for the Governor when occasion arose for the presence of a strong man to take command in Montreal, and with great reluctance he had to call upon Isaac Brock to a.s.sume the office.
CHAPTER IX.
FUR-TRADERS AND HABITANTS.
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 t.i.tle 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. Later, when the two companies amalgamated, their joint operations extended from Alaska to Rupert's Land, from Oregon to the Sandwich Islands, from Vancouver to Labrador, an empire embracing an area of 4,500,000 square miles.
At Montreal Brock lived with these merchant princes on terms of close intimacy. He was sensible enough, as a man of the world, to enjoy the creature comforts of life. The blazing log-fire, with its glow and crackle, in contrast to the blizzard that raged outside; the dim-lighted splendour of s.p.a.cious dining-hall, with hewn rafters and savage trophies of the explorers; the polished oak floor and carved ceiling, hung with rare fur and gaudy feathers, appealed to him.
The rubber of whist over, came the fragrant _perfecto_--these traders ransacked the world for their tobacco--and Brock, under the influence of the soothing weed, would charm these wild vagrants into unlocking some of the strange secrets of the wilderness. From these usually silent but sometimes garrulous merchants he acquired during the long winter nights a fund of facts that greatly influenced his future actions.
Being superseded at Montreal by General Drummond, he did not relish a return to Quebec. Separation from the 49th meant actual pain, but, as he said, "Soldiers must accustom themselves to frequent movements, and as they have no choice, it often happens they are placed in situations little agreeing with their wishes." His regrets were lessened by his promotion to the rank of brigadier-general. But he prayed for active service, still trying to secure a staff appointment in Portugal, and awaited the result of his brother Savery's efforts, hoping he might yet be ordered to join "the best disciplined army that ever left England."
"Your Excellency," he said to the Governor-General, "I _must_ see active service, or had much better quit the army, for I can look for no advantage if I remain buried in inaction in this remote corner of the earth, without the least mention ever likely being made of me."
Unsuspected by our hero, fate in his case was only "marking time."
Day after day Brock saw British s.h.i.+ps weigh anchor at Quebec with Canadian timber for the building of English vessels of war. The importance of these Canadian provinces to Great Britain awoke in him dreams of a federation of all the colonies. Cargoes of timber, that would require more than 400 vessels to transport, were then lying on the beaches of the St. Lawrence. "Bonaparte," he wrote, "coveted these vast colonial areas, and desired to repossess them."
Brock's mind was busy trying to solve these problems. "A small French force of 5,000 men," he told the Governor, "could most a.s.suredly conquer the Province of Quebec. In the event of French invasion, would the volatile Lower Canadian people, in spite of all their privileges, remain loyal?" A certain cla.s.s of _habitant_ argued that Napoleon, who was sure to conquer Europe, would of course seize the Canadas, encouraged by the United States. "Would Englishmen," asked Brock, "if positions were reversed, be any more impatient to escape from possible British rule than were French Canadians from the possible rule of France?"
"Blood, my good FitzGibbon," he declared to his _protege_, "is thicker than water. You cannot expect to get men to change their nature, or the traditions of their race, through an act of parliament at twenty-four hours' notice. Old thoughts and habits die hard."
Though Brock's perceptive faculties were well developed, his forecasts, built upon the evidences of opposition among certain Lower Canadians, happily proved only in part correct. Later, when his plan of campaign was menaced by still greater disaffection in Upper Canada, he found he had not reckoned on the influence of his own example, which, added to his power of purpose, "disconcerted the disloyal." In proof of this fact Detroit and Queenston Heights were splendid examples.
It was this spirit of unrest among the people of Quebec 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."