AN ADVENTURE IN CANADA.
Towards the close of the last war with America, a small detachment of
military occupied the little block house of Fort Peak, which, about eight
miles from the Falls of Niagara, formed the last outpost on the frontier.
The Fort, in itself inconsiderable, was only of importance as commanding
a part of the river where it was practicable to ford, and where the easy
ascent of the bank offered a safe situation for the enemy to cross over,
whenever they felt disposed to carry the war into our territory.
There having been, however, no threat of invasion in this quarter, and
the natural strength of the position being considerable, a mere handful
of men, with two subaltern officers, were allotted for this duty--such
being conceived ample to maintain it till the arrival of succour from
head-quarters, then at Little York, on the opposite side of the lake.
The officers of this party were our old acquaintance Tom O'Flaherty, and
our newly-made one Maurice Malone.
Whatever may be the merits of commanding officers, one virtue they
certainly can lay small claim to--viz. any insight into character, or at
least any regard for the knowledge. Seldom are two men sent off on
detachment duty to some remote quarter, to associate daily and hourly for
months together, that they are not, by some happy chance, the very people
who never, as the phrase is, "took to each other" in their lives. The
grey-headed, weather-beaten, disappointed "Peninsular" is coupled with
the essenced and dandified Adonis of the corps; the man of literary
tastes and cultivated pursuits, with the empty headed, ill informed
youth, fresh from Harrow or Westminster. This case offered no exception
to the rule; for though there were few men possessed of more assimilating
powers than O'Flaherty, yet certainly his companion did put the faculty
to the test, for any thing more unlike him, there never existed. Tom all
good humour and high spirits--making the best of every thing--never
non-plussed--never taken aback--perfectly at home, whether flirting with
a Lady Charlotte in her drawing-room, or crossing a grouse mountain in
the highlands--sufficiently well read to talk on any ordinary topic--and
always ready-witted enough to seem more so. A thorough sportsman,
whether showing forth in the "park" at Melton, whipping a trout-stream in
Wales, or filling a country-house with black cock and moor-fowl; an
unexceptionable judge of all the good things in life, from a pretty ancle
to a well hung tilbury--from the odds at hazard to the "Comet vintage."
Such, in brief, was Tom. Now his confrere was none of these; he had been
drafted from the Galway militia to the line, for some election services
rendered by his family to the government candidate; was of a saturnine
and discontented habit; always miserable about some trifle or other, and
never at rest till he had drowned his sorrows in Jamaica rum--which,
since the regiment was abroad, he had copiously used as a substitute for
whiskey. To such an extent had this passion gained upon him, that a
corporal's guard was always in attendance whenever he dined out, to
convey him home to the barracks.
The wearisome monotony of a close garrison, with so ungenial a companion,
would have damped any man's spirits but O'Flaherty's. He, however, upon
this, as other occasions in life, rallied himself to make the best of it;
and by short excursions within certain prescribed limits along the river
side, contrived to shoot and fish enough to get through the day, and
improve the meagre fare of his mess-table. Malone never appeared before
dinner--his late sittings at night requiring all the following day to
recruit him for a new attack upon the rum bottle.
Now, although his seeing so little of his brother officer was any thing
but unpleasant to O'Flaherty, yet the ennui of such a life was gradually
wearing him, and all his wits were put in requisition to furnish
occupation for his time. Never a day passed without his praying ardently
for an attack from the enemy; any alternative, any reverse, had been a
blessing compared with his present life. No such spirit, however, seemed
to animate the Yankee troops; not a soldier was to be seen for miles
around, and every straggler that passed the Fort concurred in saying that
the Americans were not within four day's march of the frontier.
Weeks passed over, and the same state of things remaining unchanged,
O'Flaherty gradually relaxed some of his strictness as to duty; small
foraging parties of three and four being daily permitted to leave the
Fort for a few hours, to which they usually returned laden with wild
turkeys and fish--both being found in great abundance near them.
Such was the life of the little garrison for two or three long summer
months--each day so resembling its fellow, that no difference could be
found.
As to how the war was faring, or what the aspect of affairs might be,
they absolutely knew nothing. Newspapers never reached them; and whether
from having so much occupation at head-quarters, or that the difficulty
of sending letters prevented, their friends never wrote a line; and thus
they jogged on, a very vegetable existence, till thought at last was
stagnating in their brains, and O'Flaherty half envied his companion's
resource in the spirit flask.
Such was the state of affairs at the Fort, when one evening O'Flaherty
appeared to pace the little rampart that looked towards Lake Ontario,
with an appearance of anxiety and impatience strangely at variance with
his daily phlegmatic look. It seemed that the corporal's party he had
despatched that morning to forage, near the "Falls," had not returned,
and already were four hours later than their time away.
Every imaginable mode of accounting for their absence suggested itself to
his mind. Sometimes he feared that they had been attacked by the Indian
hunters, who were far from favourably disposed towards their poaching
neighbours. Then, again, it might be merely that they had missed their
track in the forest; or could it be that they had ventured to reach Goat
Island in a canoe, and had been carried down the rapids. Such were the
torturing doubts that passed as some shrill squirrel, or hoarse night owl
pierced the air with a cry, and then all was silent again. While thus
the hours went slowly by, his attention was attracted by a bright light
in the sky. It appeared as if part of the heavens were reflecting some
strong glare from beneath, for as he looked, the light, at first pale and
colourless, gradually deepened into a rich mellow hue, and at length,
through the murky blackness of the night, a strong clear current of flame
rose steadily upwards from the earth, and pointed towards the sky. From
the direction, it must have been either at the Falls, or immediately near
them; and now the horrible conviction flashed upon his mind that the
party had been waylaid by the Indians, who were, as is their custom,
making a war feast over their victims.
Not an instant was to be lost. The little garrison beat to arms; and, as
the men fell in, O'Flaherty cast his eyes around, while he selected a few
brave fellows to accompany him. Scarcely had the men fallen out from the
ranks, when the sentinel at the gate was challenged by a well-known
voice, and in a moment more the corporal of the foraging party was among
them. Fatigue and exhaustion had so overcome him, that for some minutes
he was speechless. At length he recover sufficiently to give the
following brief account:--
The little party having obtained their supply of venison above Queenston,
were returning to the Fort, when they suddenly came upon a track of feet,
and little experience in forest life soon proved that some new arrivals
had reached the hunting grounds, for on examining them closely, they
proved neither to be Indian tracks, nor yet those made by the shoes of
the Fort party. Proceeding with caution to trace them backwards for
three or four miles, they reached the bank of the Niagara river, above
the whirlpools, where the crossing is most easily effected from the
American side. The mystery was at once explained: it was a surprise
party of the Yankees, sent to attack Fort Peak; and now the only thing to
be done was to hasten back immediately to their friends, and prepare for
their reception.
With this intent they took the river path as the shortest, but had not
proceeded far when their fears were confirmed; for in a little embayment
of the bank they perceived a party of twenty blue coats, who, with their
arms piled, were lying around as if waiting for the hour of attack. The
sight of this party added greatly to their alarm, for they now perceived
that the Americans had divided their force--the foot-tracks first seen
being evidently those of another division. As the corporal and his few
men continued, from the low and thick brushwood, to make their
reconnaisance of the enemy, they observed with delight that they were not
regulars, but a militia force. With this one animating thought, they
again, with noiseless step, regained the forest, and proceeded upon their
way. Scarcely, however, had they marched a mile, when the sound of
voices and loud laughter apprised them that another party was near,
which, as well as they could observe in the increasing gloom, was still
larger than the former. They were now obliged to make a considerable
circuit, and advance still deeper into the forest--their anxiety hourly
increasing, lest the enemy should reach the Fort before themselves. In
this dilemma it was resolved that the party should separate--the corporal
determining to proceed alone by the river bank, while the others, by a
detour of some miles, should endeavour to learn the force of the Yankees,
and, as far as they could, their mode of attack. From that instant the
corporal knew no more; for, after two hours' weary exertion, he reached
the Fort, which, had it been but another mile distant, his strength had
not held out for him to attain.
However gladly poor O'Flaherty might have hailed such information under
other circumstances, now it came like a thunderbolt upon him. Six of his
small force were away, perhaps ere this made prisoners by the enemy;
the Yankees, as well as he could judge, were a numerous party; and he
himself totally without a single adviser--for Malone had dined, and was,
therefore, by this time in that pleasing state of indifference, in which
he could only recognise an enemy, in the man that did not send round the
decanter.
In the half indulged hope that his state might permit some faint exercise
of the reasoning faculty, O'Flaherty walked towards the small den they
had designated as the mess-room, in search of his brother officer.
As he entered the apartment, little disposed as he felt to mirth at such
a moment, the tableau before him was too ridiculous not to laugh at. At
one side of the fire-place sat Malone, his face florid with drinking, and
his eyeballs projecting. Upon his head was a small Indian skull cap,
with two peacock feathers, and a piece of scarlet cloth which hung down
behind. In one hand he held a smoking goblet of rum punch, and in the
other a long, Indian Chibook pipe. Opposite to him, but squatted upon
the floor, reposed a red Indian, that lived in the Fort as a guide,
equally drunk, but preserving, even in his liquor, an impassive, grave
aspect, strangely contrasting with the high excitement of Malone's face.
The red man wore Malone's uniform coat, which he had put on back
foremost--his head-dress having, in all probability been exchanged for
it, as an amicable courtesy between the parties. There they sat, looking
fixedly at each other; neither spoke, nor even smiled--the rum bottle,
which at brief intervals passed from one to the other, maintained a
friendly intercourse that each was content with.
To the hearty fit of laughing of O'Flaherty, Malone replied by a look of
drunken defiance, and then nodded to his red friend, who returned the
courtesy. As poor Tom left the room, he saw that nothing was to be hoped
for in this quarter, and determined to beat the garrison to arms without
any further delay. Scarcely had he closed the door behind him, when a
sudden thought flashed through his brain. He hesitated, walked forward a
few paces, stopped again, and calling out to the corporal, said--
"You are certain they were militia?"
"Yes, sir; quite sure."
"Then, by Jove, I have it," cried O'Flaherty. "If they should turn out
to be the Buffalo fencibles, we may get through this scrape better than I
hoped for."
"I believe you are right, sir; for I heard one of the men as I passed
observe, 'what will they say in Buffalo when it's over?'."
"Send Mathers here, corporal; and do you order four rank and file, with
side-arms to be in readiness immediately."
"Mathers, you have heard the news," said O'Flaherty, as the sergeant
entered. "Can the Fort hold out against such a force as Jackson reports?
You doubt; well, so do I; so let's see what's to be done. Can you
remember, was it not the Buffalo militia that were so tremendously
thrashed by the Delawares last autumn?"
"Yes, sir, they chased them for two days and nights, and had they not
reached the town of Buffalo, the Delawares would not have left a scalp
in the regiment."
"Can you recollect the chief's name--it was Carran--something, eh?"
"Caudan-dacwagae."
"Exactly. Where is he supposed to be now?"
"Up in Detroit, sir, they say, but no one knows. Those fellows are here
to-day, and there to-morrow."
"Well then, sergeant, here's my plan." Saying these words, O'Flaherty
proceeded to walk towards his quarters, accompanied by the sergeant, with
whom he conversed for some time eagerly--occasionally replying, as it
appeared, to objections, and offering explanations as the other seemed to
require them. The colloquy lasted half an hour--and although the veteran
sergeant seemed difficult of conviction, it ended by his saying, as he
left the room,
"Well, sir, as you say, it can only come to hard knocks at worst. Here
goes--I'll send off the scout party to make the fires and choose the men
for the out picquets, for no time is to be lost."
In about an hour's time from the scene I have mentioned, a number of
militia officers, of different grades, were seated round a bivouac fire,
upon the bank of the Niagara river. The conversation seemed of an angry
nature, for the voices of the speakers were loud and irrascible, and
their gestures evidenced a state of high excitement.
"I see," said one, who seemed the superior of the party--"I see well
where this will end. We shall have another Queenston affair, as we had
last fall with the Delawares."
"I only say," replied another, "that if you wish our men to stand fire
to-morrow morning, the less you remind them of the Delawares the better.
What is that noise? Is not that a drum beating?"
The party at these words sprung to their legs, and stood in an attitude
of listening for some seconds.
"Who goes there?" sung out a sentinel from his post; and then, after a
moment's delay, added--"Pass flag of truce to Major Brown's quarters."
Scarcely were the words spoken, when three officers in scarlet, preceded
by a drummer with a white flag, stood before the American party.
"To whom may I address myself?" said one of the British--who, I may
inform my reader, en passant, was no other than O'Flaherty--"To whom may
I address myself as the officer in command?"
"I am Major Brown," said a short, plethoric little man, in a blue uniform
and round hat--"And who are you?"
"Major O'Flaherty, of his majesty's fifth foot," said Tom, with a very
sonorous emphasis on each word--"the bearer of a flag of truce and an
amicable proposition from Major-General Allen, commanding the garrison of
Fort Peak."
The Americans, who were evidently taken by surprise at their intentions
of attack being known, were silent, while he continued--
"Gentlemen, it may appear somewhat strange that a garrison, possessing
the natural strength of a powerful position--supplied with abundant
ammunition and every muniment of war--should despatch a flag of truce on
the eve of an attack, in preference to waiting for the moment, when a
sharp and well-prepared reception might best attest its vigilance and
discipline. But the reasons for this step are soon explained. In the
first place, you intend a surprise. We have been long aware of your
projected attack. Our spies have tracked you from your crossing the
river above the whirlpool to your present position. Every man of your
party is numbered by us; and, what is still more, numbered by our allies
--yes, gentlemen, I must repeat it, 'allies'--though, as a Briton, I
blush at the word. Shame and disgrace for ever be that man's portion,
who first associated the honourable usages of war with the atrocious and
bloody cruelties of the savage. Yet so it is: the Delawares of the
hills"--here the Yankees exchanged very peculiar looks--"have this
morning arrived at Fort Peak, with orders to ravage the whole of your
frontier, from Fort George to Lake Erie. They brought us the information
of your approach, and their chief is, while I speak, making an infamous
proposition, by which a price is to paid for every scalp he produces in
the morning. Now, as the general cannot refuse to co-operate with the
savages, without compromising himself with the commander-in-chief,
neither can he accept of such assistance without some pangs of
conscience. He has taken the only course open to him: he has despatched
myself and my brother officers here"--O'Flaherty glanced at two privates
dressed up in his regimentals--"to offer you terms"--
O'Flaherty paused when he arrived thus far, expecting that the opposite
party would make some reply; but they continued silent: when suddenly,
from the dense forest, there rung forth a wild and savage yell, that rose
and fell several times, like the pibroch of the highlander, and ended at
last in a loud whoop, that was echoed and re-echoed again and again for
several seconds after.
"Hark!" said O'Flaherty, with an accent of horror--"Hark! the war-cry of
the Delawares! The savages are eager for their prey. May it yet be time
enough to rescue you from such a fate! Time presses--our terms are
these--as they do not admit of discussion, and must be at once accepted
or rejected, to your own ear alone can I impart them."
Saying which, he took Major Brown aside, and, walking apart from the
others, led him, by slow steps, into the forest. While O'Flaherty
continued to dilate upon the atrocities of Indian war, and the revengeful
character of the savages, he contrived to be always advancing towards the
river side, till at length the glare of a fire was perceptible through
the gloom. Major Brown stopped suddenly, and pointed in the direction of
the flame.
"It is the Indian picquet," said O'Flaherty, calmly; "and as the facts I
have been detailing may be more palpable to your mind, you shall see them
with your own eyes. Yes, I repeat it, you shall, through the cover of
this brushwood, see Caudan-dacwagae himself--for he is with them in
person."
As O'Flaherty said this, he led Major Brown, now speechless with terror,
behind a massive cork tree, from which spot they could look down upon the
river side, where in a small creek sat five or six persons in blankets,
and scarlet head-dresses; their faces streaked with patches of yellow and
red paint, to which the glare of the fire lent fresh horror. In the
midst sat one, whose violent gestures and savage cries gave him the very
appearance of a demon, as he resisted with all his might the efforts of
the others to restrain him, shouting like a maniac all the while, and
struggling to rise.
"It is the chief," said O'Flaherty; "he will wait no longer. We have
bribed the others to keep him quiet, if possible, a little time; but I
see they cannot succeed."
A loud yell of triumph from below interrupted Tom's speech. The
infuriated savage--who was no other than Mr. Malone--having obtained the
rum bottle, for which he was fighting with all his might--his temper not
being improved in the struggle by occasional admonitions from the red end
of a cigar, applied to his naked skin by the other Indians--who were his
own soldiers acting under O'Flaherty's orders.
"Now," said Tom, "that you have convinced yourself, and can satisfy your
brother officers, will you take your chance? or will you accept the
honoured terms of the General--pile your arms, and retreat beyond the
river before day-break? Your muskets and ammunition will offer a bribe
to the cupidity of the savage, and delay his pursuit till you can reach
some place of safety."
Major Brown heard the proposal in silence, and at last determined upon
consulting his brother officers.
"I have outstaid my time," said O'Flaherty, "but stop; the lives of so
many are at stake, I consent." Saying which, they walked on without
speaking, till they arrived where the others were standing around the
watch-fire.
As Brown retired to consult with the officers, Tom heard with pleasure
how much his two companions had worked upon the Yankees' fears, during
his absence, by details of the vindictive feelings of the Delawares, and
their vows to annihilate the Buffalo militia.
Before five minutes they had decided. Upon a solemn pledge from
O'Flaherty that the terms of the compact were to be observed as he stated
them, they agreed to march with their arms to the ford, where, having
piled them, they were to cross over, and make the best of their way home.
By sunrise the next morning, all that remained of the threatened attack
on Fort Peak, were the smouldering ashes of some wood fires--eighty
muskets piled in the fort--and the yellow ochre, and red stripes that
still adorned the countenance of the late Indian chief,--but now snoring
Lieutenant Maurice Malone.