CHAPTER XIII.

It is impossible to review the whole tenor of General

Brock's conduct, on the occasion more immediately before

our notice, and fail to be struck by the energy and

decision of character which must have prompted so bold

an enterprise. To understand fully the importance of the

operation it will be necessary to take a partial survey

of the position of affairs anterior to this period. When

the announcement of the American declaration of war first

reached the Michigan frontier, the garrisons of Amherstburg

and Detroit were nearly equal in strength, neither of

them exceeding five hundred men; but the scale was soon

made to preponderate immeasurably in favor of the latter,

by the sudden arrival of a force of upwards of two thousand

men. General Hull, who was in command of that army

immediately crossed over into Canada, occupying the

village of Sandwich as his head quarters, and pouring

his wild Kentuckians over the face of the country which

they speedily laid under contribution. Instead, however,

of marching without delay upon Amherstburg, as ill defended

as it was weakly garrisoned, he contented himself with

pushing forward skirmishers, who amused themselves during

the day, against an advanced post of regulars, militia

and Indians, stationed for the defence of an important

pass, and retired invariably on the approach of night.

This pass, the Canard bridge--and the key to Amherstburg

--was, at this period, the theatre of several hot and

exciting affairs. In this manner passed the whole of the

month of July.

Meanwhile, intelligence having been conveyed to General

Brock, then in command of the centre division of the

army, of the danger with which Amherstburg was threatened.

He immediately embarked what remained of the Regiment

occupying that post, with from one hundred and fifty to

two hundred choice Militia, in boats he had caused to be

collected for the purpose, and, coasting along the lake,

made such despatch that he arrived at Amherstburg only

a few days after General Hull, in his turn apprized of

the advance of this reinforcement, had recrossed the

river, and with the majority of his force, taken refuge

within the fortifications of Detroit. Thus was that

portion of Upper Canada, which by Proclamation of the

American General, had already been incorporated with,

and become a portion of the United States, restored to

its original possessors.

Not a moment did the English Commander lose, in following

up the advantage resulting from this mark of timidity in

his opponent. As soon as he had arrived and ascertained

the true state of affairs, he issued orders for the march

of the whole force to Sandwich, and, having explained in

a council with the Indian Chiefs, the main features of

his plan of attack, proceeded to carry it into instant

execution. His arrival at Amherstburg was about the 13th

of August, so that until the morning of his meditated

attack scarcely three days were occupied in preparations,

including the march to Sandwich, a distance of eighteen

miles.

It is difficult to imagine that the English General could,

in any way have anticipated so easy a conquest. He had

no reason to undervalue the resolution of the enemy, and

yet he appears to have been fully sanguine of the success

of his undertaking. Possibly he counted much on his own

decision and judgment, which, added to the confidence

reposed in him by all ranks and branches of the expedition,

he might have felt fully adequate to the overthrow of

the mere difficulty arising from superiority of numbers.

Whatever his motive, or however founded his expectations

of success, the service he performed was eminent, since

he not merely relieved Amherstburgh, the key of Upper

Canada, from all immediate danger, but at a single blow

annihilated the American power throughout that extensive

frontier. That this bold measure, powerfully contrasted

as it was with his own previous vacillation of purpose,

had greatly tended to intimidate the American General,

and to render him distrustful of his own resources, there

can be little doubt. The destructive fire from the well

served breaching batteries, was moreover instanced as an

influencing cause of the capitulation.

In justice to many American officers of rank, and to the

Garrison generally, it must be admitted that the decision

of their leader, if credence might be given to their

looks and language, was any thing but satisfactory to

them, and it must be confessed that it most have been

mortifying in the extreme to have yielded without a blow

a fortress so well provided with the means of defence.

What the result would have been, had the British columns

mounted to the assault, it is impossible to say. That

they would have done their duty is beyond all question,

but there is no reason to believe the Americans, under

a suitable commander, would have failed in theirs.

Superiority of numbers and position was on the one side:

a daring Chief, an ardent desire of distinction, and the

impossibility of retreat without humiliation, on the

other.

In alluding thus to the capitulation of Detroit, we beg

not to be understood as either reflecting on the American

character, or unduly exalting our own. Question of personal

bravery there was none, since no appeal was made to arms;

but the absence of sanguinary event left in high relief

the daring of the British Commander, whose promptitude

and genius alone secured to him so important yet bloodless

a conquest. Had he evinced the slightest indecision, or

lost a moment in preparing for action, the American

General, already intimidated by the mere report of his

approach (as was evinced by his hasty abandonment of the

Canadian shore) would have had time to rally, and believing

him to be not more enterprizing than his predecessor,

would have recovered from his panic and assumed an

attitude, at once, more worthy of his trust, commensurate

with his means of defence, and in keeping with his former

reputation. The quick apprehension of his opponent,

immediately caught the weakness, while his ready action

grappled intuitively with the advantage it presented.

The batteries, as our narrative has shown, were opened

without delay--the flotilla worked up the river within

sight of the fortress--and the troops and Indians effected

their landing in full view of the enemy. In fact, every

thing was conducted in a manner to show a determination

of the most active and undoubted description. With what

result has been seen.

It was in the evening of the day of surrender, that the

little English squadron, freighted with the prisoners

taken in Detroit, dropped slowly past Amherstburg, into

Lake Erie. By an article in the capitulation, it had

been stipulated, that the irregular troops should be

suffered to return to their homes, under the condition

that they should not again serve during the war, while

those of the line were to be conducted to the Lower

Province, there to remain until duly exchanged. The

appearance as captives of those who had, only a few days

before, been comfortably established on the Sandwich

shore, and had caused the country to feel already some

of the horrors of invasion, naturally enough drew forth

most of the inhabitants to witness the sight; and as the

Sunday stroll of the little population of Amherstburg

led in the direction of Elliott's point, where the lake

began, the banks were soon alive with men, women and

children, clad in holiday apparel, moving quickly, to

keep up with the gliding vessels, and apparently, although

not offensively, exulting in the triumph of that flag

beneath which the dense masses of their enemies were now

departing from their rescued territory.

Among those whom the passing barks had drawn in unusual

numbers to the river's side, were the daughters of Colonel

D'Egville, whose almost daily practice it was to take

the air in that direction, where there was so much of

the sublime beauty of American scenery to arrest the

attention. Something more however than that vague

curiosity, which actuated the mass, seemed to have drawn

the sisters to the bank, and one who had watched them

narrowly, most have observed, that their interest was

not divided among the many barks that glided onward to

the lake, but was almost exclusively attracted by one,

which now lay to, with her light bows breasting the

current like a swan, and apparently waiting either for

a boat which had been dispatched to the shore, or with

an intention to send one. This vessel was filled in every

part with troops, wearing the blue uniform of the American

regular army, while those in advance were freighted with

the irregulars and backwoodsmen.

"Is not this, Julia, the vessel to which the Commodore

promised to promote Gerald, in reward of his gallant

conduct last week?" asked the timid Gertrude, with a

sigh, as they stood stationary for a few moments, watching

the issue of the manoeuvre just alluded to.

"It is, Gertrude," was the answer of one whose fixed eye

and abstracted thought, betokened an interest in the same

vessel, of a nature wholly different from that of her

questioner.

"How very odd, then, he does not come on shore to us.

I am sure he must see us, and it would not take him two

minutes to let us know he is unhurt, and to shake hands

with us. It is very unkind of him I think."

Struck by the peculiar tone in which the last sentence

had been uttered, Julia D'Egville turned her eyes full

upon those of her sister. The latter, could not stand

the inquiring gaze, but sought the ground, while a

conscious blush confirmed the suspicion.

"Dearest Gertrude," she said, as she drew the clasped

arm of her sister more fondly within her own; "I see how

it is; but does he love you in return. Has he ever told

you so, or hinted it. Tell me my dear girl."

"Never," faltered the sensitive Gertrude, and she hung

her head, to conceal the tear that trembled in her eye.

Her sister sighed deeply, and pressed the arm she held

more closely within her own. "My own own sister, for

worlds I would not pain you; but if you would be happy,

you must not yield to this preference for our cousin.

Did you not remark how completely he seemed captivated

by Miss Montgomerie? Depend upon it, his affections are

centered in her."

Gertrude made no reply, but tears trickled down her

cheeks, as they both slowly resumed their walk along the

beach. Presently the splash of oars was heard, and turning

quickly to discover the cause, Julia saw a boat leave

the vessel, at which they had just been looking, and pull

immediately towards them. In the stern stood an officer

in American uniform, whom the eyes of Love were not slow

to distinguish, even in the growing dusk of evening.

"It is Ernest," exclaimed the excited girl, forgetting

for a moment her sister in herself. "I thought he would

not have departed without seeking to see me."

A few strokes of the oars were sufficient to bring the

boat to the shore. The American stepped out, and leaving

the boat to follow the direction of the vessel, now

drifting fast with the current towards the outlet, which

the remainder of the flotilla had already passed, pursued

his course along the sands in earnest conversation with

the sisters, or rather with one of them, for poor Gertrude,

after the first salutation, seemed to have lost all

inclination to speak.

"Fate, dearest Julia," said the officer despondingly,

"has decreed our interview earlier than I had expected.

However, under all circumstances, I may esteem myself

happy, to have seen you at all. I am indebted for this

favor to the officer commanding yonder vessel, in which

our regiment is embarked, for the satisfaction, melancholy

as it is, of being enabled to bid you a temporary farewell."

"Then are we both indebted to one of my own family for

the happiness; for that it is a happiness, Ernest, I can

answer from the depression of my spirits just now, when

I feared you were about to depart without seeing me at

all. The officer in command of your vessel is, or ought

to be, a cousin of our own."

"Indeed!--then is he doubly entitled to my regard. But,

Julia, let the brief time that is given us, be devoted

to the arrangement of plans for the future. I will not

for a moment doubt your faith, after what occurred at

our last interview; but shall I be certain of finding

you here, when later we return to wash away the stain

this day's proceedings have thrown upon our national

honor. Forgive me, if I appear to mix up political

feelings, with private grief, but it cannot be denied,

(and he smiled faintly through the mortification evidently

called up by the recollection,) that to have one's honor

attainted, and to lose one's mistress in the same day,

are heavier taxes on human patience, than it can be

expected a soldier should quietly bear."

"And when I am yours at a later period, I suppose you

will expect me to be as interested in the national honor,

as you are," replied Julia, anxious to rally him on a

subject she felt, could not but be painful to a man of

high feelings, as she fully believed the Colonel to be.

How are we to reconcile such clashing interests? How am

I so far to overcome my natural love for the country

which gave me birth, as to rejoice in its subjugation by

yours; and yet, that seems to be the eventual object at

which you hint. Your plan, if I understand right, is to

return here with an overwhelming army; overrun the

province, and make me your property by fight of conquest,

while all connected with me, by blood, or friendship,

are to be borne into captivity. If we marry, sir, we must

draw lots which of us shall adopt a new country."

"Nay dearest Julia, this pleasantry is unseasonable. I

certainly do intend, provided I am exchanged in time to

return here with the army, which I doubt not will be

instantly dispatched to restore our blighted fame, and

then I shall claim you as my own. Will you then hesitate

to become mine? Even as the daughter forsakes the home

of her father without regret, to pass her days with him

who is to her father, mother, all the charities of life,

in short--so should she forsake her native land, adopting

in preference that to which her husband is attached by

every tie of honor, and of duty. However, let us hope

that ere long, the folly of this war will be seen, and

that the result of such perception, will be a peace

founded on such permanent basis, that each shall be bound,

by an equal tie of regard, to the home of the other."

"Let us hope so," eagerly replied Julia. "But what has

become of our friend, Miss Montgomerie, in all the

confusion of this day. Or am I right in supposing that

she and her uncle, are of the number of those embarked

in my cousin's vessel?"

The name of the interesting American, coupled as it was,

with that of one infinitely more dear to her caused

Gertrude for the first time, to look up in the face of

the officer, in expectation of his reply. She was struck

by the sadden paleness that came over his features again,

as en the former occasion, when allusion was made to her

at his recent visit to Amherstburgh. He saw that his

emotion was remarked, and fought to bide it under an

appearance of unconcern, as he replied:

"Neither Miss Montgomerie nor her uncle are embarked.

The latter, I regret to say, has been one of the few

victims who have fallen."

"What! dead--that excellent kind old man--dead, demanded

the listen, nearly in the same breath?"

"No; not dead--but I fear with little hope of life. He

was desperately wounded soon after day-break this morning,

and when I saw hi half an hour afterwards, he had been

given over by the surgeons."

"Poor old Major," sighed Gertrude; "I felt when he was

here the other day, that I could bare loved him almost

as my owe father. How broken-hearted Miss Montgomerie

must be at his loss."

A sneer of bitterness passed over the fine features of

the American, as he replied with emphasis:

"Nay, dear Gertrude, year sympathies there are but ill

bestowed. Miss Montgomerie's heart will scarcely sustain

the injury you seem to apprehend."

"What mean you Ernest?" demanded Julia, with eagerness.

"How is it that you judge thus harshly of her character.

How, in short, do you pretend to enter into her most

secret feelings, and yet deny all but a general knowledge

of her? What can you possibly knew of her heart?"

"I merely draw my inferences from surmise," replied the

Colonel, after a few moments of pause. "The fact it, I

have the vanity to imagine myself a correct reader of

character, and my reading of Miss Montgomery's has not

been the happiest."

Julia's look betrayed incredulity. "There is evidently

some mystery in all this," she rejoined; "but I will not

seek to discover more than you choose at present to

impart. Later I may hope to possess more of your confidence.

One question more, however, and I have done. Have you

seen her since your return to Detroit, and did she give

you my letter?"

The Colonel made no answer, but produced from his pocket

a note, which Julia at once recognized as her own.

"Then," said Gertrude, "there was not so much danger

after all, in intrusting it. You seemed to be in a sad

way, when you first heard that it had been given to her."

"I would have pledged myself on its safe deliverance,"

added her sister, "for the promise was too solemnly given,

to be broken."

"And solemnly has it been kept, "gravely returned the

American. "But hark, already are they hailing the boat,

and we must part."

The time occupied in conversation, had brought them down

to the extreme point, where the river terminated, and

the lake commenced. Beyond this lay a sand bar, which it

was necessary to clear, before the increasing dusk of

the evening rendered it hazardous. All the other vessels

had already passed it, and were spreading their white

sails before the breeze, which here, unbroken by the

island, impelled them rapidly onward. A few strokes of

the oar, and the boat once more touched the beach. Low

and fervent adieus were exchanged, and the American,

resuming his station in the stern, was soon seen to ascend

the deck, he had so recently quitted. For a short time,

the sisters continued to watch the movements of the

vessel, as she in turn having passed, spread all her

canvass to the wind, until the fast fading twilight

warning them to depart, they retraced their steps along

the sands to the town. Both were silent and pensive; and

while all around them found subject for rejoicing in the

public events of the day, they retired at an early hour

to indulge at leisure in the several painful retrospections

which related more particularly to themselves.