Produced by David Garcia, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks,
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LAURA SECORD, THE HEROINE OF 1812: _A DRAMA_ AND OTHER POEMS.
BY SARAH ANNE CURZON
* * * * *
"And among them all move the majestic, white-robed bards, striking
their golden harps, and telling the tales of the days of old, and
handing down the names of the heroes for ever."--JUSTIN H. MCCARTHY
"The soul of the book is whatever beautiful and true and noble we
can find in it."--KINGSLEY'S "HYPATIA."
* * * * *
TO ALL TRUE CANADIANS,
OF WHATEVER DERIVATION,
THIS VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED
BY
THE AUTHOR.
PREFACE.
The drama of "Laura Secord" was written to rescue from oblivion the name
of a brave woman, and set it in its proper place among the heroes of
Canadian history. During the first few years of her residence in Canada
the author was often astonished to hear it remarked, no less among
educated than uneducated Canadians, that "Canada has no history;" and
yet on every hand stories were current of the achievements of the
pioneers, and the hardships endured and overcome by the United Empire
Loyalists. Remembering that, as soon as she had conquered the merest
rudiments of reading and grammar at school, she was set to learn English
History, and so become acquainted with the past of her country, it
seemed to the writer that there was something lacking in a course of
teaching that could leave Canadians to think that their country had no
historical past. Determined to seek out for herself the facts of the
case, it was with feelings of the deepest interest that she read such of
the contributions to the newspaper press as came in her way during the
debate with regard to the pensions asked of Government for the surviving
veterans of 1812 in 1873-4. Among these was incidentally given the story
of Mrs. Secord's heroic deed in warning Fitzgibbon. Yet it could not
pass without observation that, while the heroism of the men of that date
was dwelt upon with warm appreciation and much urgency as to their
deserts, Mrs. Secord, as being a woman, shared in nothing more tangible
than an approving record. The story, to a woman's mind, was full of
pathos, and, though barren of great incidents, was not without a due
richness of colouring if looked at by appreciative eyes. Nor were the
results of Laura Secord's brave deed insignificant. Had the Americans
carried Beaver Dams at that juncture, the whole peninsula was before
them--all its supplies, all its means of communication with other parts
of the Province. And Canada--Upper Canada, at least--would have been in
the hands of the invaders until, by a struggle too severe to be
contemplated calmly, they had been driven forth. To save from the sword
is surely as great a deed as to save with the sword; and this Laura
Secord did, at an expense of nerve and muscle fully equal to any that
are recorded of the warrior. To set her on such a pedestal of equality;
to inspire other hearts with loyal bravery such as hers; to write her
name on the roll of Canadian heroes, inspired the poem that bears her
name. But the tribute to her memory would not be complete were it to
omit an appeal to Canadians, especially to the inhabitants of this
Province, who, in their prosperity owe to her so much, to do their part,
and write her name in enduring marble upon the spot where she lies
buried.
Nor does it seem asking more than a graceful act from the Government of
the Dominion--a Dominion which, but for her, might never have been--to
do its share in acknowledgment. One of her daughters still lives, and if
she attain to her mother's age has yet nearly a decade before her.
The drama of "Laura Secord" was written in 1876, and the ballad a year
later, but, owing to the inertness of Canadian interest in Canadian
literature at that date, could not be published. It is hoped that a
better time has at length dawned.
S. A. CURZON.
TORONTO, 1887.
CONTENTS
LAURA SECORD, THE HEROINE OF THE WAR OF 1812
A BALLAD OF 1812
THE QUEEN'S JUBILEE
THE HERO OF ST. HELEN'S ISLAND
OUR VETERANS OF 1812. (A PLEA)
LOYAL
ON QUEENSTON HEIGHTS
NEW ORLEANS, MONROE, MAYOR
THE SONG OF THE EMIGRANT
TO THE INDIAN SUMMER
IN JUNE
LIVINGSTONE, IN MEMORIAM
THE QUEEN AND THE CRIMEAN SOLDIERS
TO A CHILD
HOME
LOST WITH HIS BOAT
LIFE IN DEATH
INVOCATION TO RAIN
REMONSTRANCE WITH "REMONSTRANCE"
THE ABSENT ONES
AWAY
POOR JOE
FRAGMENTS
THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE. (A COMEDY)
* * * * *
_FABLES: ORIGINAL AND FROM THE FRENCH_.
THE CHOICE
INSINCERITY
THE TWO TREES _Le May_.
FABLE AND TRUTH _Florian_.
THE CALIPH _Florian_.
THE BLIND MAN AND THE PARALYTIC _Florian_.
DEATH _Florian_.
THE HOUSE OF CARDS _Florian_.
THE BULLFINCH AND THE RAVEN _Florian_.
THE WASP AND THE BEE _Florian_.
* * * * *
_TRANSLATIONS_.
IN MEMORY OF THE HEROES OF 1760 _Le May_.
THE SONG OF THE CANADIAN VOLTIGEURS _Le May_.
THE LEGEND OF THE EARTH _Jean Rameau_.
THE EMIGRANT MOUNTAINEER _Chateaubriand_.
FROM "LIGHTS AND SHADES" _Hugo_.
VILLANELLE TO ROSETTE _Desportes_.
* * * * *
NOTES
APPENDICES
MEMOIR OF MRS. SECORD
It is at all times an amiable and honourable sentiment that leads us to
enquire into the antecedents of those who, by the greatness of their
virtues have added value to the records of human history. Whether such
inquiry increases our estimation of such value or not, it must always be
instructive, and therefore inspiring. Under this impression I have
sought on every hand to learn all that could be gathered of the history
of one of Canada's purest patriots. As Dr. Ryerson aptly says in his
_U. E. Loyalists and their Times_, "the period of the U. E.
Loyalists was one of doing, not recording," therefore little beyond
tradition has conserved anything of all that we would now like to know
of the heroism, the bravery, the endurance, the trials of that bold army
of men and women, who, having laid strong hands on the primeval forest,
dug wide and deep the foundations of a nation whose greatness is yet to
come. In such a light the simple records that follow will be attractive.
Laura Secord came of loyal blood. She was the daughter of Mr. Thomas
Ingersoll, the founder of the town of Ingersoll, and his wife Sarah, the
sister of General John Whiting, of Great Barrington, Berkshire County,
Mass. At the close of the War of 1776, Mr. Ingersoll came to Canada on
the invitation of Governor Simcoe, an old friend of the family, and
founded a settlement on the banks of the Thames in Oxford County. On the
change of government, Mr. Ingersoll and his struggling settlement of
eighty or ninety families found their prospects blighted and their
future imperilled; Mr. Ingersoll therefore saw it necessary to remove to
Little York, and shortly afterward settled in the township of Etobicoke.
There he resided until some time after the War of 1812-14, when he
returned with his family to Oxford County. Here he died, but left behind
him worthy successors of his honourable name in his two sons, Charles
and James.
Charles Ingersoll, with that active loyalty and heroic energy which
alike characterized his patriotic sister, Mrs. Secord, held prominent
positions in the gift of the Government and of the people, and was also
a highly respected merchant and trader.
James Ingersoll, though of a more retiring disposition than his brother,
was a prominent figure in Western Canada for many years. He was a
magistrate of high repute, and occupied a foremost position in the
militia, in which he held the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel at the time of
his death. This event took place on the 9th August, 1886, at which date
he had been Registrar for the County of Oxford fifty-two years.
That Mrs. Secord should be brave, ready, prompt in action, and fervent
in patriotism is not surprising, seeing that all the events of her
childhood and youth were blended with those of the settlement of Upper
Canada by the U. E. Loyalists, in whose ranks her family held so
honourable a position, and whose character and sentiments were at all
times to be depended upon.
The family of Secord, of which she became so distinguished a member, was
also a notable one. Family documents exist which show that in the reign
of Louis the Tenth of France a certain Marquis D'Secor was a Marshal of
His Majesty's Household. A son of this Marquis embraced the Protestant
religion, as did younger branches of the family. During the persecution
of the Huguenots many of them suffered at the stake, and the family
estates, situated at La Rochelle, were confiscated. The survivors
escaped the massacre of St. Bartholomew by flight to England along with
many other noble families, among whom were the Comte de Puys, the
Baudeaux, and a Holland family, the Van Cortlandts.
Eventually five brothers emigrated to America where they settled in New
Jersey, purchasing large tracts of land, founding New Rochelle and
engaging in lumbering. On the breaking out of the Revolutionary War the
family divided, the Loyalists changing their patronym to Secord by
placing the prefix "d" at the end of their name. These brothers after,
as King's men, losing, in common with all the Loyalists, their property
and estates, emigrated to New Brunswick, again engaging in lumbering and
milling operations, and; there certain of their descendants are to be
found today. Some of these, and their sons, again removed to Canada
West, where one of them, commonly called "Deaf John Secord," who married
Miss Wartman, of Kingston, was known all along the coast from St. John
to Quebec for his hospitalities. Among those who settled in the Niagara
district were Stephen Secord, the miller of St. David's, Major David
Secord, after whom the village was named, and James Secord, the husband
of the heroine of 1812. Stephen Secord died before the War of 1812,
leaving a widow and a family of seven sons. Of Major David Secord, the
only record I have been able to procure is to be found in _A History
of the Late War between Great Britain and the United States of America,
by David Thompson, late of the Royal Scots_, as quoted for me by the
kind courtesy of Miss Louisa Murray, of Stamford. It is as follows: "The
Second Lincoln Militia, under Major David Secord, distinguished
themselves in this action [the Battle of Chippewa] by feats of genuine
bravery and heroism, stimulated by the example of their gallant leader,
which are seldom surpassed even by the most experienced veterans. Their
loss was proportionate with that of the regular army."
At the outbreak of the War of 1812, Mr. James Secord was living at
Queenston, where he had a lumber mill and stores. He held the rank of
Captain in the Lincoln Militia until close on the American invasion, but
resigned in dudgeon at some action of his superior officer, and thus it
is that in the relation of Mrs. Secord's heroic deed he is not
designated by any rank. At the first call to arms, however, Mr. Secord
at once offered his services, which were gladly accepted, and he was
present at the Battle of Queenston Heights. Here he was severely wounded
in the leg and shoulder, and lay on the field as one dead, until rescued
by his brave wife. He never fully recovered from his wounds, and
received an acknowledgment of his voluntary services to the Government
in the appointment to the post of Collector of Customs at the Port of
Chippewa, which he held until his death in 1841.
The married life of Mr. and Mrs. Secord was a most happy one. Their
third daughter, Mrs. Harriet Smith, who still survives, a cheerful and
vivacious lady of eighty-six, says that her father and mother were most
devoted to each other, and lived in the closest mutual affection.
At the date of the Battle of Queenston Heights, the family consisted of
four daughters and one son: Mary--with whom the great Tecumseh is said
to have been in love--who was married to Dr. Trumbull, Staff-surgeon to
the 37th Regiment, and died in Jamaica; Charlotte, "the belle of
Canada," who, died during a visit to Ireland; Harriet--Mrs. Smith--who
still survives and lives in great retirement with her eldest daughter at
Guelph; and Appolonia, who died at the early age of eighteen. Charles,
the only son, lived at Newark, and his surviving children are Mr. James
B. Secord, of Niagara, and Alicia, Mrs. Isaac Cockburn, of Gravenhurst.
Two daughters were born to Mr. and Mrs. Secord subsequent to the war.
Hannah, who was married to Mr. Carthew, of Guelph. and died in 1884,
leaving several sons, and Laura, who was married to Dr. Clarke, of
Palmerston, and died young, leaving one daughter, Laura.
Mrs. Smith relates that she very well remembers her mother setting off
for St. David's, ostensibly to see her brother Charles, who lay sick at
the mill, and her father's ill-concealed agitation during that trying
day. What must the night have been to him? She also relates that during
the short occupation of Queenston by the invaders, their soldiery were
very tyrannical, entering the houses and stores to look for money and
help themselves to plunder, and even destroying the bedding, by ripping
it up with their swords and bayonets, in the search. Mrs. Secord who had
a store of Spanish doubloons, heirlooms, saved them by throwing them
into a cauldron of water which hung on a crane over a blazing fire. In
this she unconsciously emulated the ready wit of one of her husband's
Huguenot progenitors, a lady, who during the persecution that followed
the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, at a period of domiciliary search
for incriminating proofs of unorthodoxy, is said to have thrown a copy
of the Bible--a doubly precious treasure in those days--into a churn of
milk from whence it was afterwards rescued little the worse, thanks to
heavy binding and strong clasps.
Envy having sent a shaft at even so warm and patriotic a breast as that
of Mrs. Secord, Col. Fitzgibbon sent her a certificate, dated only a
short time before his death, vouching to the facts of the heroic deed.
It was evidently one of the cruel necessities of this hard life. The
certificate runs as follows:
FITZGIBBON'S CERTIFICATE.
"I do hereby certify that Mrs. Secord, the wife of James Secord, of
Chippewa, Esq., did, in the month of June, 1813, walk from her house in
the village of St. David's to Decamp's house in Thorold, by a circuitous
route of about twenty miles, partly through the woods, to acquaint me
that the enemy intended to attempt by surprise to capture a detachment
of the 49th Regiment, then under my command; she having obtained such
knowledge from good authority, as the event proved. Mrs. Secord was a
person of slight and delicate frame; and made the effort in weather
excessively warm, and I dreaded at the time that she must suffer in
health in consequence of fatigue and anxiety, she having been exposed to
danger from the enemy, through whose line of communication she had to
pass. The attempt was made on my detachment by the enemy, and his
detachment, consisting of upwards of 500 men, with a field-piece and
fifty dragoons, was captured in consequence. I write this certificate in
a moment of much hurry and from memory, and it is, therefore, thus
brief.
"(Signed) JAMES FITZGIBBON,
"_Formerly Lieutenant in the 49th Regiment_."
It is well to consider this great achievement of Mrs. Secord carefully,
that we may be the better able to realize the greatness of the feat. To
assist in so doing, it will not be amiss to quote the following, from
Coffin's _Chronicles of the War_, bearing on the prudential reasons
of Proctor's retreat at Moravian Town. "But whether for advance or for
retreat, the by-paths of the forest intermediate were such as the
macadamized and locomotive imagination of the present day cannot
encompass. A backwoodsman, laden with his axe, wading here, ploutering
there, stumbling over rotted trees, protruding stumps, a bit of
half-submerged corduroy road for one short space, then an adhesive clay
bank, then a mile or two or more of black muck swamp, may,
possibly,--clay-clogged and footsore, and with much pain in the small of
his back,--find himself at sundown at the foot of a hemlock or cedar,
with a fire at his feet, having done manfully about ten miles for his
day's work." This was written of a time of year when the fall rains
predict an approaching winter. Mrs. Secord's exploit was made on the
23rd of June, a time when the early summer rains that set the fruit and
consecrate an abundant harvest with their blessing, nevertheless make
clay banks slippery, and streams swift, and of these latter the whole
Niagara district was full. Many have now been diverted and some dried
up. I am happy to be able to give my readers the heroine's own simple
account of her journey, as furnished me by the courtesy of Mr. Benson J.
Lossing, author of the "Pictorial Field Book of the War of 1812," to
whom the aged lady in 1862 recounted it in a letter (given in a note in
Mr. Lossing's book), the historian, on his visit to Chippewa in 1860,
having failed to see her. She was then eighty-five years of age.
"DEAR SIR,--I will tell you the story in a few words.
"After going to St. David's and the recovery of Mr. Secord, we returned
again to Queenston, where my courage again was much tried. It was there
I gained the secret plan laid to capture Captain Fitzgibbon and his
party. I was determined, if possible, to save them. I had much
difficulty in getting through the American guards. They were ten miles
out in the country. [Footnote: The American sentries were out ten miles
into the country; that is, at any point commanding a possible line of
communication within a radius of ten miles from Fort George, Mrs. Secord
might come upon an American sentry. The deep woods, therefore, were her
only security. These she must thread to the best of her ability, with
what knowledge she might possess of the woodman's craft, for even a
blazed path was not safe. And by this means she must get out of American
cover and into British lines. To do this she must take a most circuitous
route, as she tells us, all round "by Twelve-mile Creek," whose port is
St. Catharines, climbing the ridge that is now cut through by the
Welland Canal, and thus doubling upon what would have been the straight
route, and coming on Fitzgibbon from the back, from the way of his
supports, for Major de Haren lay at Twelve-mile Creek, but not within
several miles of where the heroine crossed it. And it was dark, and
within a few hours of the intended surprise when she reached it. To go
to De Haren, even though it might have been nearer at that point--it may
not have been so, however--was a greater risk to Fitzgibbon, whose
safety she was labouring to secure, than to send him aid which might
only reach him after the event. Forgetting her exhaustion she proceeds,
fulfils her errand, and saves her country. _And shall that country let
her memory die_?] When I came to a field belonging to a Mr. De Cou,
in the neighbourhood of the Beaver Dams, I then had walked nineteen
miles. By that time daylight had left me. I yet had a swift stream of
water (Twelve-mile Creek) to cross over on an old fallen tree, and to
climb a high hill, which fatigued me very much.
"Before I arrived at the encampment of the Indians, as I approached they
all arose with one of their war yells, which, indeed, awed me. You may
imagine what my feelings were to behold so many savages. With forced
courage I went to one of the chiefs, told him I had great news for his
commander, and that he must take me to him or they would all be lost. He
did not understand me, but said, 'Woman! What does woman want here?' The
scene by moonlight to some might have been grand, but to a weak woman
certainly terrifying. With difficulty I got one of the chiefs to go with
me to their commander. With the intelligence I gave him he formed his
plans and saved his country. I have ever found the brave and noble
Colonel Fitzgibbon a friend to me. May he prosper in the world to come
as he has done in this.
"LAURA SECORD.
"CHIPPEWA, U.C., Feb. 18, 1861."
Mr. Lossing further adds in his letter to me:
"When, in the summer of 1860, the Prince of Wales visited Queenston the
veteran soldiers of the Canada side of the Niagara frontier signed an
address to his Royal Highness; Mrs. Secord claimed the privilege of
signing it. 'Wherefore?' was asked. She told her story, and it was
allowed that she eminently deserved a place among the signers. Her story
was repeated to the Prince. He was greatly interested, and learning that
the heroine had not much of this world's goods, sent her $500 soon after
his return home, in attestation of his appreciation of her patriotism."
Her sole surviving daughter at this date, says the gift was carried to
her mother by ten gentlemen who had formed part of the Prince's suite.
A correspondent at Drummondville, to whom I am indebted for several
Valuable particulars, says: "Mrs. Laura Second is remembered here as a
fine, tall, strong woman. Strong, too, in mind, purpose, determination,
and yet womanly and maternal withal. She is spoken of as _indeed a
brave woman_, of strong patriotism and courage.
"The difficulties and dangers then, were those of anew, uncleared,
pathless country increased by lurking foes, and by wandering, untaught
Indians.
"In connection with her chief act of heroism the following anecdote has
been told me:--Three American soldiers called at her log house at
Queenston to ask for water. One of them said, 'You have a nice place
here, missis, when we come for good to this country we'll divide the
land, and I'll take this here for my share.' Mrs. Secord was so nettled
by the thoughts expressed that although the men were civil and
respectful, she replied sharply, 'You scoundrel you, all you'll ever get
here will be six feet of earth!'
"When they were gone her heart reproached her for her heat, because the
men had not molested her nor her property." (Yet her indignation was
righteous, since they were invaders in the worst sense of the term,
having no lawful cause for their invasion.) "Two days after two of the
men returned. They said to Mrs. Secord, 'You were right about the six
feet of earth, missis! The third man had been killed."
In speaking of the heroine, Mr. James B. Secord, of Niagara, says in a
letter to me, "My grandmother was of a modest disposition, and did not
care to have her exploit mentioned, as she did not think she had done
any thing extraordinary. She was the very last one to mention the
affair, and unless asked would never say any thing about it."
This noble-minded and heroic woman died in 1868, aged ninety-three
years. She lies in Drummondville Churchyard, by the side of the husband
she loved so well. Nothing but a simple headstone, half defaced, marks
the place where the sacred ashes lie. But surely we who enjoy the
happiness she so largely secured for us, we who have known how to honour
Brock and Brant, will also know how to, honour Tecumseh and LAURA
SECORD; the heroine as well as the heroes of our Province--of our common
Dominion--and will no longer delay to do it, lest Time should snatch the
happy opportunity from us.
S. A. C.
TORONTO, 4th August, 1887.
NOTE.--The headstone of Laura Secord is three feet high, and eighteen
inches wide, and has the following:
HERE RESTS
LAURA,
BELOVED WIFE OF JAMES SECORD,
Died, Oct. 17, 1868.
_Aged 93 years_.
The headstone of her husband has the following:
IN MEMORY OF
JAMES SECORD, SENR.,
COLLECTOR OF CUSTOMS,
Who departed this life on the 22nd day of Feb., 1841,
_In the 68th year of his age_.
Universally and deservedly lamented as a sincere Friend,
a kind and indulgent Parent, and an affectionate Husband.
LAURA SECORD:
THE HEROINE OF THE WAR OF 1812.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
* * * * *
_British_:
LAURA SECORD, _the Heroine, wife of_ James Secord.
ELIZABETH SECORD, _widow of_ Stephen Secord, _the Miller at St.
David's_.
MARY, _a girl of thirteen, daughter of_ James and Laura Secord.
CHARLOTTE, _her sister_.
HARRIET, _her sister_.
BABETTE, _the maid at the_ Mill.
A WOMAN, _the keeper of a roadside tavern at_ Beaver Dams.
JAMES SECORD, _a wounded militia officer, home on sick leave, husband
of_ Laura Secord.
LIEUTENANT FITZGIBBON, _a British officer holding the post at_
Beaver Dams.
MAJOR DE HAREN, _a British officer lying at_ St. Catharines _with
his command_.
COLONEL THOMAS CLARKE, _A Canadian militia officer_.
SERGEANT GEORGE MOSIER, _an old Pensioner, and_ U. E. Loyalist _of 1776_.
MISHE-MO-QUA (The Great Bear), _a Mohawk Chief_.
JOHN PENN, _a farmer (Harvey's Quaker)_.
GEORGE JARVIS, _a Cadet of the 49th Regiment_.
_A_ Sergeant _of the 8th Regiment_.
_A_ Sergeant _of the 49th Regiment_.
JAMES CUMMINGS, _a Corporal of Militia_.
ROARING BILL, _a Private in the 49th Regiment_.
JACK, _a Private in the 49th Regiment_.
_Other_ Soldiers _of the 49th, 8th, or King's Own, and 104th
Regiments_.
Militiamen, _Canadians_.
Indians, _British Allies, chiefly Mohawks_.
TOM, _a child of six, son of the_ Widow Secord.
ARCHY, _a little Boy at_ St. David's Mill.
CHARLES, _a boy of four, son of_ James _and_ Laura Secord.
_Other_ Boys _of various ages from eight to sixteen_.
_American_:
COLONEL BOERSTLER, _an American officer_.
CAPTAIN MCDOWELL, _an American officer_.
PETE _and_ FLOS, _slaves_.
_A large body of American soldiers, infantry, dragoons and artillerymen_.
LAURA SECORD: THE HEROINE OF THE WAR OF 1812
* * * * *
ACT I.
SCENE 1.--_Queenston. A farmhouse_.
John Penn, a Quaker, _is seated on a chair tilted against the
wall_. Mr. Secord, _his arm in a sling, reclines on a couch,
against the end of which a crutch is is placed_. Mrs. Secord,
_occupies a rocking-chair near the lounge_. Charlie, _a little
fellow of four, is seated on her lap holding a ball of yarn from which
she is knitting_. Charlotte, _a girl of twelve, is seated on a
stool set a little in rear of the couch; she has a lesson-book in her
hand_. Harriet, _a girl of ten, occupies a stool near her sister,
and has a slate on her lap. All are listening intently to the_
Quaker, _who is speaking_.
_Quaker_. The midnight sky, set thick with shining points,
Hung watchingly, while from a band of gloom
That belted in the gloomier woods, stole forth
Foreshortened forms of grosser shade, all barred
With lines of denser blackness, dexter-borne.
Rank after rank, they came, out of the dark,
So silently no pebble crunched beneath
Their feet more sharp than did a woodchuck stir.
And so came on the foe all stealthily,
And found their guns a-limber, fires ablaze,
And men in calm repose.
With bay'nets fixed
The section in advance fell on the camp,
And killed the first two sentries, whose sharp cries
Alarmed a third, who fired, and firing, fled.
This roused the guard, but "Forward!" was the word,
And on we rushed, slaying full many a man
Who woke not in this world.
The 'larum given,
A-sudden rose such hubbub and confusion
As is made by belching earthquake. Waked from sleep,
Men stumbled over men, and angry cries
Resounded. Surprised, yet blenching not,
Muskets were seized and shots at random fired
E'en as they fled. Yet rallied they when ours,
At word from Harvey, fell into line,
And stood, right 'mid the fires, to flint their locks--
An awful moment!--
As amid raging storms the warring heaven
Falls sudden silent, and concentrates force
To launch some scathing bolt upon the earth,
So hung the foe, hid in portentous gloom,
While in the lurid light ours halted. Quick,
Red volcanic fire burst from their lines
And mowed us where we stood!
Full many a trembling hand that set a flint
Fell lifeless ere it clicked: _yet silent all_--
Save groans of wounded--till our rods struck home;
Then, flashing fire for fire, forward we rushed
And scattered them like chaff before the wind.
The King's Own turned their left; the Forty-ninth,
At point of bay'net, pushed the charge, and took
Their guns, they fighting valiantly, but wild,
Having no rallying point, their leaders both
Lying the while all snug at Jemmy Gap's.
And so the men gave in at last, and fled,
And Stony Creek was ours.
_Mr. Secord_. Brave Harvey! Gallantly planned and carried.
The stroke is good, the consequences better.
Cooped as he is in George, the foe will lack
His forage, and perforce must--eat his stores;
For Yeo holds the lake, and on the land
His range is scarce beyond his guns. And more,
He is the less by these of men to move
On salient points, and long as we hold firm
At Erie, Burlington, and Stony Creek,
He's like the wretched bird, he "can't get out."
_Mrs. Secord_. You speak, friend Penn, as if you saw the fight,
Not like a simple bearer of the news.
_Quaker_. Why, so I did.
_Mrs. Secord_. You did! Pray tell us how it was;
For ever have I heard that Quakers shunned
The sight of blood.
_Quaker_. None more than I.
Yet innate forces sometimes tell o'er use
Against our will. But this was how it happed:
Thou seest, Mistress Secord, I'd a load
Of sound potatoes, that I thought to take
To Vincent's camp, but on the way I met
A British officer, who challenged me; saith he,
"Friend, whither bound?" "Up to the Heights," say I,
"To sell my wares." "Better," saith he,
"Go to the Yankee camp; they'll pay a price
Just double ours, for we are short of cash."
"I'll risk the pay," say I, "for British troops;
Nay, if we're poor, I can afford the load,
And p'rhaps another, for my country's good."
"And say'st thou so, my Quaker! Yet," saith he,
"I hear you Quakers will not strike a blow
To guard your country's rights, nor yet your own."
"No, but we'll hold the stakes," cried I. He laughed.
"Can't you do more, my friend?" quoth he, "I need
A closer knowledge of the Yankee camp:
How strong it is, and how it lies. A brush
Is imminent, and one must win, you know
Shall they?"
His manner was so earnest that, before
I knew, I cried, "Not if I know it, man!"
With a bright smile he answered me, "There spoke
A Briton." Then he directed me
How I might sell my load, what I should mark,
And when report to him my observations.
So, after dusk, I met him once again,
And told him all I knew. It pleased him much.
Warmly he shook my hand. "I am," saith he,
"Lieutenant-Colonel Harvey. Should it hap
That I can ever serve you, let me know."
_Mrs. Secord_. And then you stayed to see the end of it?
_Quaker_. Mistress, I did. Somewhat against my creed,
I freely own; for what should I, a Quaker,
E'er have to do with soldiers, men of blood!
I mean no slight to you, James.
_Mr. Secord_ (_laughing_). No, no! go on.
_Quaker_. Well, when I thought how tired poor Dobbin was,
How late the hour, and that 'twould be a week
Before I'd hear how Harvey sped that night,
I thought I'd stay and see the matter out;
The more, because I kind o' felt as if
Whatever happed I'd had a hand in it.
_Mrs. Secord_. And pray where did you hide? for hide you must,
So near the Yankee lines.
_Quaker_. It wasn't hard to do; I knew the ground,
Being a hired boy on that very farm,
Now Jemmy Gap's. There was an elm, where once
I used to sit and watch for chipmunks, that I clomb,
And from its shade could see the Yankee camp,
Its straggling line, its fires, its careless watch;
And from the first I knew the fight was ours,
If Harvey struck that night.
_Mr. Secord_. Ha! ha! friend John, thine is a soldier's brain
Beneath that Quaker hat.
_Quaker_ (_in some embarrassment, rising_).
No, no, I am a man of peace, and hate
The very name of war. I must be gone.
(_To Mrs. Secord_.) My woman longs to see thee, Mistress.
Good-bye to all.
_The Little Girls_ (_rising_). Good-bye, sir.
_Mrs. Secord_. Good-bye, John,
'Twould please me much to see my friend again,
But war blots out the sweet amenities
Of life. Give her my love.
_Quaker_. I will.
_Mr. Secord_ (_rising and taking his crutch_).
I'll walk a piece with you, friend Penn,
And see you past the lines.
[_His little daughter_, HARRIET, _hands him his hat_.
_Quaker_. That's right, 'twill do thee good:
Thy wounds have left thee like an ailing girl,
So poor and pale.
[_Exeunt_ Quaker _and_ MR. SECORD.
_Charlotte_. Oh, dear, I wish I were a man, to fight
In such brave times as these!
_Enter_ MARY, _a girl of fourteen_.
_Mary_. Were wishing aught
Soon should another sword strike for the King,
And those dear rights now rudely overlooked.
_Mrs. Secord_. My child?
_Mary_. Oh naught, mamma, save the old tale: no nook
That's not invaded, even one's books
Borrowed without one's leave. I hate it all!
_Mrs. Secord_. We must be patient, dear, it cannot last.
_Harriet_. Oh, if we girls were boys, or Charles a man!
_Mrs. Secord_. Poor baby Charles! See, he's asleep; and now,
Dear girls, seeing we cannot fight, we'll pray
That peace may come again, for strife and blood,
Though wisely spent, are taxes hard to pay.
But come, 'tis late! See Charlie's dropt asleep;
Sing first your evening hymn, and then to bed.
I'll lay the darling down.
_Exit_ MRS. SECORD, _with the child in her arms_.
_Charlotte_. You start it, Mary.
_Children sing_--
HYMN.
Softly as falls the evening shade,
On our bowed heads Thy hands be laid;
Surely as fades the parting light,
Our sleep be safe and sweet to-night
Calmly, securely, may we rest,
As on a tender father's breast.
Let War's black pinions soar away,
And dove-like Peace resume her sway,
Our King, our country, be Thy care,
Nor ever fail of childhood's prayer.
Calmly, securely, may we rest
As on a tender father's breast.
[_Exeunt_.
* * * * *