Battle of Queenston Heights.
[BY ERNEST CRUIKSHANK.]
Most Canadians are sufficiently familiar with the stately column which crowns the summit of Queenston Heights, and looks down upon an expanse of scenery which can scarcely be paralleled for variety and sublimity, save by the view from the edge of the plateau, on which an obelisk marks the spot where ‘‘Wolfe died victorious.” Most of them know, also, in a general way, why it was placed there, and that Brock died to preserve what Wolfe had died to conquer.
It is not necessary to trace the march of events immediately succeeding the declaration of war by the United States, on the 18th of June, 1812; how Brock cheered up the despondent, decided the wavering, and over-awed the disloyal among the inhabitants of the province by a settled policy, to use his own words, of ‘‘speaking loud and looking big;” how, prevented by the express instructions of his superior from attacking the enemy beyond the Niagara, he assembled an enthusiastic body of volunteers, and taking with him almost every regular soldier at his disposal, flew to repel the invader at the Detroit; how he promptly determined to cross that river contrary to the opinion of his most trusted officers; and how his audacity was rewarded by a complete and bloodless victory, is tolerably well known to every Canadian.
But, while conquering at Detroit, he could not fail to be apprehensive that disaster might have befallen the weakened garrisons on the Niagara, and scarcely twenty-four hours were permitted to elapse before he was on his way thither, carrying with him all the troops that had accompanied or preceded him from that quarter, fully alive to the truth of the Napoleonic maxim that ‘‘in war-time is everything.” Brock hoped to duplicate his exploit by the capture of Fort Niagara and the dispersal of the forces assembled on that frontier. That it would have been an easy task, there can now be no reasonable doubt, although superior in numbers, the American troops there were, by the admission of their commanders, in a very indifferent state of discipline, without any heavier ordnance than six pounders, and but few of them, and without artillerists. A few days later, when the true extent of Brock’s success was made known, their demoralization became complete. The most absurd rumors were believed and spread. Fugitives from Detroit, anxious to excuse their cowardice, gravely related that a hundred fresh scalps had been deposited at Elliott’s feet, and that he had paid for them at the rate of six dollars each. Not only the Western Indians, but those residing in Michigan and Canada were said to have taken the hatchet, and to be already on their way to devastate the border settlements of Ohio. The appearance of two British war-vessels on the south coast of Lake Erie threw the inhabitants of Chautauqua county into a paroxysm of terror. Fearful memories of Cherry Valley and Wyoming were recalled, and a general flight began. The militia became clamorous for pay, and sought furloughs under every possible pretext. When refused they feigned sickness or deserted.
The intensity of Brock’s disappointment may be imagined when he learned, on his arrival at Fort Erie, on the 22nd of August, that an armistice had been proclaimed five days before. Persistently hoping against hope that peace might be established without bloodshed, the Governor-General of
