Chapter 19

_Enter_ MISS KATE BLOGGS _in full dinner toilet of Reseda silk, and carrying a dandelion and lily bouquet_.

_Miss Blaggs_.--My cousin! oh, my cousin!

[_Rushes excitedly forward and falls into hysterics on_ Miss BLOGGS' _neck. The company gather round in great surprise_.

_Miss B_.--Dear Orphea! Orphea, my dear! oh, water, gentlemen! Lay her upon the couch. See! see! she gasps! Orphea, dear girl!

[_The ladies are much alarmed, but Miss BLAGGS soon gives signs of recovery, and sits up_.

_Orphea (in tears)_.--Oh, Kate! it struck me so to see you once again as you were wont to be; those nasty ugly pants forever gone, and you a girl again.

_Kate_.--Dear friends, you look surprised. Pray Heaven you'll not look worse when you know all. I am indeed a girl, though you have known Me hitherto as Thomas Christopher. Four years ago I passed the exams, for Us women, at your University. Once more I passed. But when again I would, I stumbled for the teaching that is chained-- Like ancient scripture to the reading desk-- Within your College walls. No word of mine Could move the flinty heads of College Council. Order and discipline forbade, they said, That women should sit-side by side with men Within their walls. At church, or concert, or At theatre, or ball, no separation's made Of sexes. And so I, being a girl Of firm and independent mind, resolved To do as many a one beside has done For lesser prize, and, as a man, sat at The feet of our Gamaliels until I got The learning that I love. That I may now Look you all in the face without a blush, save--that Which naturally comes at having thus To avow my hardihood, is praise, I trow, You will not think unworthy; and to me It forms a soft remembrance that will ever dwell Within my grateful heart. Can you forgive me?

_Many Voices_.--We do, we must. All honour to the brave! Speak for us, Biggs.

_Mr. Biggs_.--I cannot speak, except to ask the lady's pardon For our rough ways.

_Kate_.--No; pardon me.

_Many Voices_.--No! no! we ask your pardon.

_Kate_.--If that, indeed, as I must need believe From all your looks, you do not blame me much, Endue me with a favour. It is this:-- Let every man and woman here to-night Look out for those petitions that will soon Be placed in many a store by those our friends Who in this city form a ladies' club, And each one sign. Nay more, to show you mean What I, with swelling heart have often heard You strongly urge, the rights of women to The College privileges, get all your friends To sign. Do what your judgment charges you To help so good a cause, and let the lists Of 1883 have no more names Set by themselves as women. Let us go In numbrous strength before the Parliament, And ask our rights in such a stirring sort, They shall be yielded. Then I shall know Your brotherly and pleasant words mean faith, And shall no more regret a daring act That else will fail of reason. May I thus trust?

_All_.--You may! You may.

_Kate_.--Then hands all round, my friends, till break of day.

* * * * *

FABLES:

ORIGINAL AND FROM THE FRENCH.

THE CHOICE.

As fragrant essences from summer flowers, Steal, on aerial pinions, to the sense, So, on the viewless wing of rumour, sped A word that set the aviary on flame. "To-morrow comes the Prince," it said, "to choose A bird of gifts will grace the royal bower." O then began a fluttering and a fume-- A judging each of all! Pert airs and speech Flew thick as moulted feathers. Little heads Were tossed in lofty pride, or in disdain Were turned aside. For each bird deemed his own The merits that would charm. One only sang To-day his daily song, nor joined the crowd In envious exultation. To him spoke Another of his kind. "Vain one, refrain That everlasting pipe, fit for a cage Behind some cotter's lattice, where thy gray And thickset form may shun the cultured eye. A word of warning, too--hide from the Prince." "Dear brother," cried the gray, "be not annoyed; Who sees your elegance of form, and depth Of perfect colour, ne'er will notice me." The morrow came,--the Prince. Each bird essayed To please the royal taste, and many a meed Of praise was won and given--this for his hue;-- That for his elegance;--another for His fascinating grace. Yet something lacked, 'Twas evident, and many an anxious glance Betrayed the latent fear. "Yon little bird In quiet gray and green courts not my praise, Yet should a singer be," exclaimed the Prince, As with a critical and searching eye He scanned the small competitors for choice. Obedient to his governor, the bird Poured forth his song, oblivious of the crowd Of vain and envious round him, in whose eyes He stood contemptible. The Prince, entranced, Broke forth at length: "Nor hue, nor elegance, Nor fascination, can outvie the gift Of genius. My choice is made." And to the great offence Of one bright bird, at least, the humble gray Became the royal treasure.

INSINCERITY.

Tired of the narrow limits her assigned, Truth fled the earth; and men were fain to grope In utter darkness. Blindly they blundered, And were long distraught, till on the horizon rose A luminosity, and in its midst A form. They cried, "'Tis Truth! fair Truth returned!' And though the light seemed dim, the form but faint To that of other days, they worshipped it, And all things went along much as at first. Until, born none knew whence, a doubt arose; Grew strong; and spake; and pondering, men began To quest their goddess' claim. Then, too, was set A secret watch, a covert test for proof; And one fine day there rose a clamour, such As cheated mobs will make, when cunning puts A veto on their claim. For this mob found that, in her stolen guise Of softer beams, they had adored a cheat; A make-believe; a lie. Immense their rage! One aim inspired them all-- To punish. But while they swayed and tossed In wrathful argument on just desert, Fair Truth indeed appeared, clad in her robes Of glorious majesty. "Desist, my friends," She cried; "the executioner condign Of Insincerity, and your avenger, Is Time, my faithful henchman."

THE TWO TREES.

FROM THE FRENCH OF P. LE MAY.

Two trees, amid whose leafy shade The warbling birds their vigils paid, Stood neighbours--each as noble tree In height and girth as one might see. The one, sequestered in the vale, All sheltered from the boisterous gale, Had passed his days in soft repose; The other from the cliff arose, And bore the brunt of stormy wind That lashed him oft in frenzy blind.

A day there happed when from the north Aquilon drave his forces forth, And hurled them headlong on the rock Where, proudly poised to meet the shock, Our bold tree stood. In gallant might, He took the gage of proffered fight, And though in every fibre wrung, Kept every fibre still upstrung.

"Thou tremblest!" cried the sheltered tree, "Thine own the folly! Come to me. Here no wild tempest rocks our boughs-- Scarce may it bend our haughty brows-- Scarce may a breeze our branches kiss-- From every harm a shelter this."

No word replied the storm-tried tree, But, wrestling for the mastery, He bowed and straightened, writhed and shook, And firmer of the rock he took A tightening clutch with grip of steel, Nor once the storm-fiend made him reel; And when his weary foe passed by, Still towered he proudly to the sky.

Then through the vale the winged blast For the first time in fury passed, As through ripe grain the sickles go, Widespread he scattered fear and woe; Prone fell the tree--so safe before-- 'Mid ruin dire, to rise no more.

He cannot fall who knows to fight With stern adversity aright. But soon is laid the victim low, That knows not how to ward a blow.

FABLE AND TRUTH.

Simply attired in Nature's strictest garb, Fair Truth emerged from out her sheltering well; But Time so many of her charms had touched That age and youth before her presence fled: And no asylum showed an open door Of welcome to the waif of shivering limb. Sudden upon her sight a vision breaks-- Gay Fable richly robed, and pranked withal In plumes and jewels--mostly false 'tis true, But bright enough. "Ah, is it you, my friend? How do?" quo' she, "but why upon the road. "And all alone?" "You see I freeze," says Truth, "And yet of those who pass I but implore A simple shelter, but I frighten them. Alas! I see an aged woman gains But small consideration!" "Younger than I," Saith Fable, "are you? Yet I may aver, Without conceit, that everywhere I am received with joy. But Mistress Truth, Why did you brave the light in such scant robe? 'Twas most ill-judged. Come, let's arrange for both, Since the same end is aim for me as you; Get 'neath my cloak, and we'll together walk. Thus, for your sake, I shall not by the wise Be buffeted; and for my sake, you shall Be well received among the simpler sort. Thus every one his proper taste may suit, And by these means each shall her end attain, Thanks to your sense, and my amusing speech. And you will see, my sister, everywhere We shall be well received, in company."--_Florian_.

THE CALIPH.

In ancient days the Caliph Almamon A palace built in Bagdad, fairer far Than was the vaunted house of Solomon. The portico a hundred columns graced Of purest alabaster. Gold and blue And jasper formed the rich mosaic floor. Ceiled with the fragrant cedar, suites of rooms Displayed a wealth of sculpture; treasures rare In art and nature vied; fair flowers and gems, Perfumes and scented myrtles; verdure soft And piercing lustre; past the embroidered couch The gushing fountains rolled on dancing wave. And beauty reigned o'er all. Near this abode, but just beyond the gate, A simple cottage stood, old and dilapidate, The home of a poor weaver. There, content With little gain procured by labour long, Without a debt and thus beyond a care, The old man lived, forgotten perhaps, but free. His days all peaceful softly wore away And he nor envied was, nor envying. As hath been told, his small and mean retreat, Just masked the palace gates. The Grand Vizier Would pull it down, without formality Of law, or word of grace. More just his lord Commands to buy it first. To hear is to obey; They seek the weaver's bearing bags of gold; "These shalt thou have." "No; keep your lordly sum, My workshop yields my needs," responds the man, "And for my house, I have no wish to sell; Here was I born, and here my father died: And here would I die too. The Caliph may, Should he so will, force me to leave the place And pull my cottage down, but should he so Each day would find me seated on the stone The last that's left, weeping my misery. I know Almamon's heart; 'twill pity me." This bold reply the Vizier's choler raised; He would the rascal punish, and at once Pull down the sorry hut. Not so the Caliph: "No; while it stands my glory lives," saith he, "My treasure shall be taxed to make it whole; And of my reign it shall be monument; For when my heirs shall this fair palace mark They shall exclaim 'How great was Almamon!' And when yon cottage 'Almamon was just!'"--_Florian_.

THE BLIND MAN AND THE PARALYTIC.

Kindly let us help each other, Lighter will our burden lie, For the good we do our brother Is a solace pure and high,-- So Confucius to his people, To his friends, the wise Chinese, Oft affirmed, and to persuade them, Told them stories such as these:--

In an Asiatic city Dwelt two miserable men,-- Misery knows nor clime nor country, Haunts alike the dome or den-- Blind the one, the other palsied, Each so poor he prayed for death; Yet he lived, his invocations Seeming naught but wasted breath. On his wretched mattress lying, In the busy public square, See the wasted paralytic Suffering more that none doth care.

Butt for everybody's humour, Gropes the blind his devious way, Guide, nor staff, nor helper has he, To supply the light's lost ray; E'en a poor dog's willing service, Love, and guidance are denied; Till one day his groping finds him By the paralytic's side. There he hears the sufferer's moaning, And his very soul is moved. He's the truest sympathizer Who, like sorrow, erst has proved.

"I have, sorrows, thou hast others, Brother, let us join our woes, And their rigours will be softened," Thus the blind began propose. "Ah, my friend, thou little knowest That a step I cannot take; Thou art blind; what should we gain then Of two burdens one to make?" "Why, now, brother, see how lucky, 'Twixt us both is all we lack: Thou hast eyes, be thou the guide then, Thee I'll carry on my back; Thus without unfriendly question As to which bears heaviest load, I will walk for thee, and thou, friend, Choose for me the smoothest road."--_Florian_.

DEATH.

On a set day, fell Death, queen of the world,-- In hell assembled all her fearful court That 'mongst them she might choose a minister Would render her estate more flourishing. As candidates for the dread office came, With measured strides, from Tartarus' lowest depth, Fever, and Gout, and War--a trio To whose gifts all earth and hell bare witness-- The queen reception gave them. Then came Plague, And none his claims and merit might deny. Still, when a doctor paid his visit, too, Opinion wavered which would win the day. Nor could Queen Death herself at once decide. But when the Vices came her choice fell quick-- She chose Excess.--_Florian_.

THE HOUSE OF CARDS.

How softly glide Philemon's happy days Within the cot where once his father dwelt Peaceful as he! Here with his gentle wife and sturdy boys, In rural quietude, he tills his farm; Gathers his harvest, or his garden tends. Here sweet domestic joys together shared Crown every evening, whether 'neath the trees The smiling summer draws the table forth: Or round the cosy hearth the winter cold With crackling faggot blazing makes their cheer. Here do the careful parents ever give Counsels of virtuous knowledge to their sons. The father with a story points his speech, The mother with a kiss. Of different tastes, the boys: the elder one, Grave, studious, reads and thinks the livelong day; The younger, sprightly, gay, and graceful, too, Leaps, laughs incessant, and in games delights. One evening, as their wont, at father's side, And near a table where their mother sewed, The elder Rollin read. The younger played: Small care had he for Rome's ambitious deeds, Or Parthian prowess; his whole mind was set To build a house of cards, his wit sharp-drawn To fit the corners neatly. He, nor speaks, Nor scarce may breathe, so great his anxious care. But suddenly the reader's voice is heard Self-interrupting: "Papa, pray tell me why Some warriors are called Conquerors, and some The Founders, of an Empire? What doth make The points of difference in the simple terms?" In careful thought the father sought reply: When, radiant with delight, his younger son, After so much endeavour, having placed His second stage, cries out, "Tis done!" But he, The elder, harshly chides his brother's glee, Strikes the frail tenement, and so destroys The fruits of patient toil: The younger weeps: And then the father thus: "Oh, my dear son, Thy brother is the Founder of a realm, Thou the fell Conqueror."--_Florian_.

THE BULLFINCH AND THE RAVEN.

In separate cages hung, the same kind roof Sheltered a bullfinch and a raven bold, The one with song mellifluous charmed the house; The other's cries incessant wearied all. With loud hoarse voice he screamed for bread and meat And cheese; the which they quickly brought, in hope To stop thereby his brawling tongue. The finch Did nought but sing, and never bawled and begged; So they forgot him. Oft the pretty bird Nor food nor water had, and they who praised His song the loudest took the smallest care To fill his fount. And yet they loved him well, But thought not on his needs. One day they found him dead within his cage, "Ah, horror! and he sang so well!" they cry, "What can it be he died of? 'Tis, indeed A dreadful pity." The raven still screamed on, and nothing lacked.--_Florian_.

THE WASP AND THE BEE.

Within the chalice of a flower A bee "improved the shining hour," Whom, when she saw, a wasp draw near, And sought to gain the fair one's ear, With tender praise: "Oh, sister mine-- (For love and trust that name entwine)" But ill it pleased the haughty bee, Who answered proudly: "Sisters!--we? Since when, I pray you, dates the tie?" With angry warmth the wasp's reply Came fuming forth--"Life-long, indeed. In semblant points all eyes may read The fact. Observe me if you please. Your wings, are they not such as these? Mine is your figure, mine your waist, And if you used with proper taste Your sting, as I do, we agree In that." "'Tis true," replies the bee, "Each bears a weapon; in its use The difference lies. For fierce abuse, And insolence your dart doth serve. Mine gives the chastisement that these deserve, And while you irritate your dearest friend; I take good heed myself, but to defend."--_Florian_.

TRANSLATIONS

A MEMORY OF THE HEROES OF 1760.

FROM THE FRENCH OF P. LE MAY.

O ye who tread with heedless feet This dust once laid with heroes' blood, A moment turn your backward glance To years of dread inquietude: When wars disturbed our peaceful fields; When mothers drew a sobbing breath; When the great river's hilly marge Resounded with a cry of death.

Then, full of fire, the heroes sprang To save our heritage and laws. They conquered! 'twas a holiday. Alas, the last in such a cause! Bloody and shamed, the flag of France Perforce recrossed the widening seas; The sad Canadian mourned his hopes, And cherished bitter memories.

But noble he despite his woe! Before his lords he proudly bends, Like some tall oak that storms may shake, And bow, but never, never rend. And oft he dreams a happy dream, And sees a flag, with lilies sown, Come back whence comes the rising Sun, To float o'er landscapes all his own.

Oh when the south wind on its wings Bears to his ear strange sounds afar, To him they seem the solemn chant Of triumph after clam'rous war. Those echoes weird of gallant strife E'en stir the coffined warrior-dead, As stirs a nation's inmost heart At some proud pageant nobly led.

O France, once more 'neath Western skies, We see thy standards proudly wave! And Mexico's high ramparts fall Before thy squadrons, true and brave. Peace shalt thou to the land restore; For fetters shalt give back the crown; And with thy shining sword shalt hurl The base usurper from the throne.

Hear ye, how in their ancient urns The ashes of our heroes wake? Thus greet they ye, fair sons of morn, For this their solemn silence break. They greet ye, whose renown hath reached Past star on star to highest heaven! Ye on whose brow their halo sits, To ye their altar shall be given!

Arise, immortal phalanxes, Who fell upon a glorious day! Your century of mourning weeds Posterity would take away. Arise and see! our woods and fields No longer nourish enemies! Whom once ye fought are brothers now, One law around us throws its ties.

And who shall dare our homesteads touch, That for our heritage ye gave:-- And who shall drive us from the shores To which your blood the verdure gave?-- E'en they shall find the oppressed will rise More powerful for the foe withstood; And ever for such heinous crime Shall pay the forfeit with their blood.

Ye, our defenders in the past, Your names are still a household word! In childhood's ear old age recounts The toils your hardy youth endured. And on the field of victory Hath gratitude your memory graved! In during brass your story lives A glory to the centuries saved!

THE SONG OF THE CANADIAN VOLTIGEURS.

FROM THE FRENCH OF P. LE MAY.

Our country insulted Demands quick redress. To arms, Voltigeurs! To the struggle we press. From vict'ry to vict'ry, Brave, righteous, and just, Ours the mem'ries that cling to Our forefathers' dust.

Defend we our farm-lands, Our half-crumbled walls! Defend we our sweethearts, Our hearths and our halls! Our dear native tongue, Our faith keep we free! Defend we our life, For a people are we!

No rulers know we, save Our time-honoured laws! And woe to the nation That sneers at our cause. Our fields and our furrows, Our woods and our streams, Should their columns invade, Shall entomb their vain dreams!

To our foes, the perfidious, Be war to the knife. Intrepid, yet duteous, We leap to the strife. More terrible shewing In danger's red hour; We know to avenge, And unbroken our power.

List the thunderous roar As the shot rushes by! To our war-song heroic, The chorus of joy. At the ring of the musket To the battle we fly; Come! come to the field, See us conquer or die.

What! we become slaves To an alien foe? We bear their vile trammels? Our answer is, No! Assistance shall reach us From heaven's lucent arch: Come! seize we our muskets And "double-quick march!"

THE LEGEND OF THE EARTH.

FROM THE FRENCH OF JEAN RAMEAU.

[The Prize Poem in the Christmas (1885) Number of the Paris _Figaro_, translated for the _Week_.]

When the Creator had laid out the deeps, The great illimitable fields of sad-eyed space, A weighty bag upon His neck He threw, Whence issued sound confused of huddled stars;

And, plunging in the sack His mighty hand, He traversed all the ether's wondrous plain With slow and measured step, as doth a sower, Sowing the gloomy void with many suns.

He tossed them--tossed them--some in fantastic groups, And some in luminous; some terrible. And 'neath the Sower's steps, whose grain was stars, The furrows of the sky, ecstatic, smoked.

He tossed them--tossed them--out of His whirling hand, Plenteous in every place, by full broad casts Measured to rhythmic beat; and golden stars Flew o'er the wide expanse like firefly swarms.

"Away! away!" cried He of worlds the Sower: "Away, ye stars! spring in the wastes of heaven; Broider its purple fields with your fair gems; Tuneful, elated, gladsome, take your course.

"Go, wave of fire, into a darksome night, And there make joy, and there the pleasant day! And launch into the depths immeasurable Quick, quivering darts of glowing light and love!

"I will that all within your bounds shall shine, Be glad, be prosperous, happy, blest, content, Shall sing for ever 'Glory be to Thee, Creator, Father, Sower, who with suns Hast filled infinity!'"

Thus He dismissed the stars, weighted with life, Careering round their calm Creator's feet As, in a desert place July has scorched, The grains of sand may cloud the traveller's steps.

And glittered all, and sang; and, hindered not, Upon their axes turned, constant and sure; Their million million voices, strong and deep, Bursting in great hosannas to the skies.

And all was happiness and right, beauty and strength; And every star heard all her radiant sons With songs of love ensphere her mother-breast; And all blessed Life. And blessed the Highest Heaven.

* * * * *

Now, when His bag of stars he had deplete, When all the dark with orbs of fire was strown, The Sower found at bottom, 'twixt two folds, A little bit of shining sun, chipped off.

And wondering, knowing not what sphere unknown Revolved in crimson space all incomplete, The great Creator, at a puff, spun off This tiny bit of sun far into space;

Then, mounting high up to His scarlet throne, Beyond the mist of thickly scattered worlds, Like a great crowned king whose proud eye burns At hearing from afar His people's voice, He listens,

And He hears The mighty Alleluia of the stars, The choirs of glowing spheres in whirling flood Of song and high apotheosis, All surging to His feet in incense clouds.

He sees eternity with rapture thrilled; He sees in one prolonged diapason The organ of the universe, vehement, roll For ever songs of praise to Him, the Sower.

But suddenly He pales. From starry seas A smothered cry mounts to the upper skies; It rises, swells, grows strong; prevailing o'er All the ovation of the joyful spheres.

From that dim atom of the chipped orb It comes; from wretches left forsaken, sad, Who weep the Mother-star, incessant sought And never found from that gray point of sky.

And the cry said "Cursed! Cursed are we, the lost By misery led, a wretched pallid flock, Made for the light and tossed into the dark!

"We are the banished ones; the exile band; The only race whose eyes are filled with tears. And if the waters of our seas be salt, 'Twas our forefathers tears that made them so.

"Be He Anathema, the Sower of Light! Be He Anathema whom worlds adore!-- If to our native star He join us not Be He accursed, through all creation cursed, for aye!"

Then rose the God from His great scarlet throne, And gentle, moved, weeping as we, He stretched His two bright arms over the flat expanse, And in a voice of thunder launched reply:--

"Morsel of Sun, calling thyself the Earth:-- Chrysalides on her grey bounds supine:-- Humanity--sing! for I give you Death, The Comforter, he who shall lead you back Safe to your Star of Light,

* * * * *

And this is why--lofty, above mishap, The Poet, made for stars of molten gold, Spurns earth; his eyes; fixed on the glowing heavens, Toward which he soon shall take his freer flight.

THE EMIGRANT MOUNTAINEER.

FROM THE FRENCH OF CHATEAUBRIAND.

How doth fond memory oft return To that fair spot where I was born! My sister, those were happy days In lovely France. O, country mine, my latest gaze Shall turn to France!

Remember'st thou with what fond pride, Our lowly cottage hearth beside, She clasped us to her gladsome breast-- Our dearest mother; While on her hair so white, we pressed Kisses, together?

My sister, canst thou not recall Dore, that bathed the castle wall, And that old Moorish tower, war-worn And grey, From whence the gong struck out each morn The break of day.

The tranquil lake doth mem'ry bring, Where swallows poised on lightest wing; The breeze by which the supple reed Was bent,-- The setting sun whose glory filled The firmament?

Rememberest thou that tender wife, Dearest companion of my life? While gathering wild flowers in the grove So sweet, Heart clung to heart, and Helen's love Flew mine to meet.

O give my Helen back to me, My mountain, and my old oak tree! Memory and pain, where'er I rove, Entwine, Dear country, with my heart's deep love Around thy shrine.

FROM "LIGHTS AND SHADES."

FROM THE FRENCH OF VICTOR HUGO.

When on the cliff, or in the wood I muse the summer evening by, And realize the woes of life, I contemplate Eternity.

And through my shadow-chequered lot GOD meets my earnest, gazing eye; As through the dusk of tangled boughs We catch bright glimpses of the sky.

Yes, when, at last Death claims her own, The spirit bursts the bonds of sense, And--like a nestling--in the tomb Finds pinions that shall bear her thence.

VILLANELLE TO ROSETTE

FROM THE FRENCH OF PHILIPPE DEPORTES, SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

In my absence, though so short, You, Rosette, had changed your mind: Learning your inconstancy, I, another mistress find. Never more shall charms so free Gain ascendancy o'er me. We shall see, oh light Rosette, Which of us will first regret.

While with tears I pine away, Cursing separation drear; You, who love by force of wont, Took another for your dear. Never vane all lightly hung, To the wind more swiftly swung. We shall see, oh vain Rosette, Which of us will first regret.

Where are all those sacred vows,-- All those tears at parting wept? Can it be those mournful plaints Came from heart so lightly kept? Heavens, that you so false could be! Who shall trust you, cursed is he. We shall see, oh false Rosette, Which of us will first regret.

He who to my place has climbed, Ne'er can love you more than I; And in beauty, love, and faith, You're surpassed I own with joy. Guard your new love lest he range, Mine, the darling, knows not change. Thus we put to proof, Rosette, Which of us will first regret.

* * * * *

NOTES.

LAURA SECORD, THE HEROINE OF 1812

A DRAMA.

NOTE 1, page 11.

The simple heroic story thus enlarged into dramatic form is not unknown to the Canadian muse, but has been sung by several of her votaries, notably by Miss Machar, of Kingston; Mr. John Reade, of Montreal; and Dr. Jakeway, of Stayner.

Dr. Jakeway's verse is not so well known as it deserves to be, not only for its literary merit, but also for its patriotic fervour, the fervour of a true and loyal Canadian: I shall therefore be pardoned if I quote the closing stanzas of his "Laura Secord":

"Braver deeds are not recorded, In historic treasures hoarded, Than the march of Laura Secord through the forest, long ago. And no nobler deed of daring Than the cool and crafty snaring, By that band at Beaver Dam, of all the well-appointed foe.

But we know if war should ever Boom again o'er field and river. And the hordes of the invader should appear within our land, Far and wide the trumpets pealing. Would awake the same old feeling. And again would deeds of daring sparkle out on every hand."

NOTE 2, page 12.

And Stony Creek was ours.

A 49th man thus writes to Auchinleck, p. 178:--"Sir,--To your, account of the battle of Stony Creek I would like to add a few particulars. At eleven o'clock at night the Light Company and Grenadiers of the 49th were under arms; every flint was taken out and every charge was drawn. Shortly after we moved on in sections, left in front, the Light Company leading the way towards the enemy's camp. I had been driven in that afternoon from Stony Creek, and was well acquainted with the ground. The cautious silence observed was most painful; not a whisper was permitted; even our footsteps were not allowed to be heard. I shall never forget the agony caused to the senses by the stealthiness with which we proceeded to the midnight slaughter. I was not aware that any other force accompanied us than the Grenadiers, and when we approached near the Creek, I ventured to whisper to Col. Harvey, 'We are close to the enemy's camp, sir.' 'Hush! I know it,' was his reply. Shortly after a sentry challenged sharply; Lieutenant Danford and the leading section rushed forward and killed him with their bayonets; his bleeding corpse was cast aside, and we moved on with breathless caution. A second challenge--who comes there?--another rush and the poor sentinel is transfixed, but his agonized dying groans alarmed a third who stood near the watch fire; he challenged, and immediately fired and fled. We all rushed forward upon the sleeping guard; few escaped; many awoke in another world. The excitement now became intense; the few who had escaped fired as they ran and aroused the sleeping army. All fled precipitately beyond the Creek, leaving their blankets and knapsacks behind.

"Our troops deployed into line and halted in the midst of the camp fires, and immediately began to replace their flints. This, though not a _very_ lengthy operation, was one of intense anxiety, for the enemy now opened a most terrific fire, and many a brave fellow was laid low. We could only see the flash of the enemy's firelocks while we were perfectly visible to them, standing as we did in the midst of their camp fires. It was a grand and beautiful sight. No one who has not witnessed a night engagement can form any idea of the awful sublimity of the scene. The first volley from the enemy, coming from a spot as 'dark as Erebus,' seemed like the bursting forth of a volcano. Then again all was dark and still, save the moans of the wounded, the confused click! click!--noise made by our men in adjusting their flints, and the ring of the enemy's ramrods in reloading. Again the flash and roar of the musketry, the whistling of the bullets, and the crash of the cannon. 'Chaos has come again.' The anxious moments (hours in imagination) have passed; the trembling excited hands of our men have at last fastened their flints; the comparatively merry sound of the ramrod tells that the charge is driven home; soon the fire is returned with animation; the sky is illumined with continued flashes; after a sharp contest and some changes of position, our men advance in a body and the enemy's troops retire. There were many mistakes made in this action, the two greatest were removing the men's flints, and halting in the midst of the camp fires; this is the reason why the loss of the enemy was less than ours, their wounds were mostly made by our bayonets. The changes of position by different portions of each army in the dark accounts for the fact of prisoners having been made by both parties. I must give the enemy's troops great credit for having recovered from their confusion, and for having shown a bold front so very soon after their having been so suddenly and completely surprised.

"Yours, A 49TH MAN."

NOTE 3, page 13.

Friend Penn.

Of this character, of whom the writer has made a somewhat free use, Col. Coffin says: "There is a tradition in the neighbourhood that Harvey himself having borrowed the garb and waggon of a Quaker"--of which sect there were many settled in Upper Canada at the time--"penetrated into the American lines, selling potatoes and 'taking notes.' Those who can recall the commanding stature and bearing of the gallant officer maintain that this was the very last disguise in which he was likely to succeed. It is not impossible that some patriotic 'Friend' really found a good market for his produce and valuable information for Harvey."

NOTE 4, page 15.

Hymn.

An air to this hymn has been composed.

NOTE 5, page 16.

Pete and Flos.

That the rights of the slave-holder had legal recognition in 1812 is not to be doubted, and that nearly every family of any means or repute held slaves is certain. The Bill abolishing slavery in the British Dominions did not pass until 1832, when it was introduced by Lord Stanley (the late Earl of Derby). A strong feeling in favour of its abolition had however permeated society, in consequence of the powerful representations made on the subject, both in and out of the British Parliament, by Wilberforce and Clarkson, "who had successfully shown," says Hamilton in his "Outlines of the History of England," "that the effect of this iniquitous system was no less injurious to the moral condition of the people of England than it was to the physical well-being of the African race." That no ill-feeling towards their masters generally existed in Canada in the minds of the slaves may be fairly inferred from the fact that, at their own request, a coloured regiment was formed to assist in the defence of the country in 1812, and under Captain Runchey did good service at the Battle of Queenston Heights. In this connection it is also to be remembered that large numbers of freedmen were to be found both in England and Canada--men who for faithful or special services had received the gift of freedom from their grateful and generous masters.

That the Legislature of Upper Canada was free even at that early period to deal with its domestic questions is shown by the fact that in 1793 an Act was passed at Newark, "forbidding the further introduction of slaves into the province, and ordering that 'all slave children born after the 9th of July in that year should be free on attaining the age of twenty-five.'" To this Act is due the fact that Canada was as early as 1800 a city of refuge for escaped slaves, numbers of whom found their way hither from Baltimore and Maryland. (_See_ also Appendix)

NOTE 6, page 18.

We'll have it though, and more, if Boerstler.

It has generally been stated that Mr. Secord heard of the intended surprise of Fitzgibbon by accident. The facts of the case are, however, related in the poem, Mrs. Smith, a daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Secord, who yet survives, being the authority.

Mrs. Smith states that with the insolence of the victorious invader, Dearborn's men came and went, ordered, or possessed themselves of, whatever they chose, and took every form of familiarity in the homes of the residents within their lines, and that it was fast becoming an anxious question with the farmers and others, what they should do for supplies if Dearborn were not ousted within the season.

NOTE 7, page 19.

--and fell a-talking, loud, As in defiance, of some private plan To make the British wince.

The ill-feeling of the Americans towards British subjects can scarcely be too strongly represented for the facts. A bitter antagonism was naturally the feeling of each side so lately in the deadly struggle of a civil war. To gloss over this state of things, deplorable as it was, and as its results have often been, is to belie history, and to no good or useful end. Had the contention been akin to a mere friendly tug-of-war, as some would have it represented now, lest a growing friendliness should be endangered, it would be necessary for the historian to re-write all that has been written, for otherwise the arguments of contention would have no meaning, no _raison d'etre_; in fact, they could never have been formulated, for the premisses would have been wanting. "He is the best cosmopolite, who for his country lives." says some one, and it is to this truth that the peace of the world, which we all wish to see established, will be owing, not to any false representations in place of facts.

NOTE 8, page 25.

That hate to England, not our country's name And weal, impelled mad Madison upon this war, And shut the mouths of thousand higher men than be.

"The Democratic Party," says Col. Coffin (see "Chronicle of the War," pp. 30-1-3), "eager to humble Britain, accepted any humiliation rather than quarrel with France. They submitted to the capture of ships, the sequestration of cargoes, the ransom of merchandise, with a faint remonstrance. French war ships seized American merchantmen at sea--plundered and burnt them. They consoled themselves with the belief that the anticipated triumph of the French Emperor in Europe would ensure their supremacy on this continent. They were prepared to divide the world between them...." In the words of the historian Alison, "the ostensible object of the war was to establish the principle that the flag covers the merchandise, and that the right of search for seamen who have deserted is inadmissible; the real object was to wrest from Great Britain the Canadas, and, in conjunction with Napoleon, extinguish its maritime and colonial empire. Politicians, too, of this early American school had a notion that French connection and the conquest of Canada were synonymous terms. This was a great mistake ... but ... it had an unexpected good effect, for the very suggestion of a French policy, or the exercise of French influence, tested the British feeling still latent in the hearts of thousands of Americans. In the New England States a war with England was denounced.... Citizens of these States expressed an abhorrence of France, and of its rule, and protested against the contemplated introduction of French troops on this continent, which, under the pretext of subduing or seducing the French-Canadians, might prove to be subversive of their own liberties.

"It is probable that to this spirit of truthful independence may be ascribed the fact that during the whole of the ensuing war (1812-15) the immense extent of frontier between Lower Canada and the States of Vermont and New Hampshire and Maine was unassailed by an enemy.... No hostile irruption was attempted upon the Province from Lake Champlain to the ocean.... War was declared on the 18th June, 1812, by Act of Congress. Mr. Madison, then President, who had done all in his power to exasperate the existing ill-will, and to lash the popular mind to frenzy, eluded the responsibility of the fatal act, and made a cat's paw of the Legislature."

The people of the United States were disunited on the subject of the war.... The Legislature of Maryland openly denounced the war. The Governments of Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island had refused the quota of militia demanded of these States respectively. Such men as Quincey declared in the House of Representatives at Washington that "since the invasion of the Buccaneers, there was nothing in history more disgraceful than this war." The same view of President Madison's action is also held by Auchinleck, Christie, and, indeed, by every trustworthy historian of the time.

NOTE 9, page 25.

In opening up a road to reach the great Pacific.

In 1812 the vast promise of the West had begun to attract public interest. The discovery of the Columbia River in Oregon, including what is now Washington Territory, was made by Captain Gray, of Boston, in 1792, and upon this was based the general claim of the United States to the Territory. The British, however, held a prior claim of occupation and discovery. In 1804-6 Captains Lewis and Clarke explored the whole country from the mouth of the Missouri to the mouth of the Columbia, and in 1811 Fort Astoria was built. The Treaty of 1845 settled the question of claim to this Territory in common with other Western lands in favour of the United States. Although California was not largely settled by United States subjects until the Treaty of 1844, yet its reputation for being a gold-bearing country was well established, and had been increasing in public regard from the time of its first exploration by Sir Francis Drake in 1570, who expressed a strong opinion as to its auriferous character. Long before the famous expedition of Colonel Fremont across "the plains," numerous trails, too often marked by the white bones of their victims, bore testimony to the dauntless courage and sanguine enterprise that has opened up the great empire of the West.

NOTE 10, page 26.

Brock! MacDonell! Dennis!

It would be a work of supererogation to say anything of Major-General Sir Isaac Brock here, so completely is his name enshrined in Canadian history, literature, and tradition. I may, however, be pardoned if I quote a few descriptive sentences to be found in "A Chapter of the War of 1812," by Col. William Stanley Hatch, Acting Assistant Quartermaster-General of the army with Hull at Detroit.

"General Brock was an officer of distinction. His personal appearance was commanding; he must have been six feet three or four inches in height, very massive and large boned, though not fleshy, and apparently of immense muscular power. His Aides were elegant young men, very near, if not quite six feet in height, and in their splendid uniforms all three presented a brilliant appearance. But how transitory and evanescent the gratification of that day and that event!" [the taking of Detroit]. "In a few short weeks--less than two months--on the 13th October, 1812, two of these noble men and gentlemanly officers had fallen. At this distant day I feel it due to myself and to them to record the sentiment of regret which impressed itself upon my mind when the announcement came that General Brock and Colonel MacDonell, public enemies as they were, had terminated their earthly career at Queenston."

Lieutenant-Colonel MacDonell, A.D.C. to General Brock, was "one of five sons of a brother of MacDonell, Laird of Glengarry, who bore a prominent part in supporting Prince Charles, called the Pretender.... The family came out to this country shortly after the American Revolution, and settled in the County of Glengarry among other Scotch settlers, who had been located on lands in that county upon the disbanding of the regiment known as the Royal Highland Emigrants. Lieutenant-Colonel MacDonell came up to Toronto (then York) and studied law, and was appointed Attorney-General of the Province when a very young man, and afterwards accompanied, as aide-de-camp, General Brock at Detroit and Queenston," where he gloriously fell in the gallant charge that followed the fall of Brock.--_Extract of private letter_. (_See_ also Appendix.)

"I have heard that he (Lieut.-Col. MacDonell) was brought up by the late Hon. Alexander MacDonell, who gave him a valuable piece of property in the then Town of York to start him in the legal profession. On his way up the Niagara River with General Brock, having a kind of presentiment of what might happen, the Colonel made his will, and bequeathed the land referred to, to James MacDonell, eldest son of the Hon. Alexander MacDonell. The land is now owned by the widow of James (Mrs. M. S. MacDonell, living at 305 Bathurst Street). It comprised the west side of Church Street, from Wellington Street to King Street, and went some distance west."--_Extract of private letter_.

Beside the lady above mentioned, several connections of Lieut.-Col. MacDonell reside in Toronto, among them W. J. MacDonell, Esq., French Vice-Consul; Angus D. MacDonell, Inland Revenue Department; and Alex. MacDonell, Esq., Osgoode Hall. The late Bishop MacDonell was also of this family, as were most of the MacDonells who grace the pages of Canadian histories of the War of 1812.

Captain James Dennis--the third of the trio whom Mrs. Secord apostrophises--then Lieutenant, had been among the wounded on board the _Monarch_ man-of-war at Copenhagen, but recovered so as to accompany his regiment to Canada. In 1812 he was in charge of one of the two flank companies of the 49th, stationed at Queenston, and gallantly led the defence, directing the one-gun battery and holding the enemy completely in check until their discovery of a path to the summit of the Height turned the scale on the wrong side, where it stood until the arrival of General Brock. In the splendid charge up-hill Captain Dennis was wounded, and, it was supposed, killed; he, however, bravely kept the field until the day was won, despite pain and weakness. He was not related to the Dennises of York, and Buttonwood, near Weston; but two members of this family were in the York militia, and served at Queenston. The late Bishop Richardson, an uncle of theirs, also served in the navy on the lakes, where he lost an arm.

NOTE 11, page 27.

The Widow, Stephen Secord.

This lady was the widow of Stephen, an elder brother of James Secord, who, in conjunction with another brother, David, a major in the militia, and after whom the village was named, built and owned the grist mill at St. David's. Stephen Secord appears to have died some years previous to the war, leaving a family of several sons. With the wisdom and spirit of a sensible woman the widow carried on the business, and thereby brought up her family. During the war all her sons were variously engaged in it with the exception of the youngest, and in the absence of sufficient help the widow worked with her own hands, turning out flour for which the Government paid her twenty dollars a barrel. Many of the Secords who are to be found scattered through the Province at the present time are children of her sons.

NOTE 12, page 27.

Sergeant George Mosier.

This character is singular in being the only pure invention in the poem; and the name was chosen as being most unlikely to be borne by any one in the neighbourhood of Queenston. By one of those coincidences, however, that are not unknown, it appears that there was a Captain Mosier living at Newark in 1812, and commanding a vessel on Lake Ontario. Captain Mosier was of some service to the British Government, and on one occasion was able to be of special use in carrying off and concealing, until the mischievous effect was over, a somewhat hot-headed gentleman who in the ardour of his loyalty had thought it his solemn duty to cross the river and bayonet the sentinel at Fort Niagara.

NOTE 13, page 27.

--all is pretty quiet still Since Harvey struck them dumb at Stony Creek. Along the Lake bold Yeb holds them fast, And Erie-way, Bishopp and Evans back him,

"On the withdrawal of the British troops, the battlefield of Stony Creek was, as before said, for a short space re-occupied by the Americans under Colonel Burns, a cavalry officer, upon whom the command had devolved. He merely remained long enough to destroy the tents ... and stores. He then rapidly retired to the protection of the lines of Fort George, though in executing this manoeuvre he was intercepted and suffered much. On their advance the Americans had been accompanied all along the lake shore by a flotilla of boats and batteaux. Burns fell back upon this support, and embarked his wounded, and such of his men as had not yet got under cover, and was slowly creeping down the coast to the place from whence he came, when, on the 8th June, Sir James Yeo, who by this time had become master of his own movements, and had got out of Kingston, appeared in the offing; intelligence from the shore had apprised him of the state of things, and of the position of the enemy; and Richardson (the late James Richardson, D.D.) dwells with sailorly impatience on the perversity of a calm.... A breeze sprung up and the squadron closed in with the shore, cutting off the twelve rearmost boats of the American flotilla, laden with valuable supplies and stores. Perceiving an encampment in the woods on the beach, the Commodore disembarked in the ship's boats two companies of regulars under Major Evans of the 8th Regiment. This active officer landed, and in the evening having been reinforced by two companies from Burlington Heights under Colonel Bishopp, the second deserted American camp was entered. It was in a state of conflagration, ... but the captors saved from the flames 500 tents, 140 barrels of flour, 100 stand of arms.... Thus did this exploit of Harvey free the whole Peninsula from the invaders, and threw them back upon the mere edge of the frontier with a deep and dangerous river in their rear, between them and their supports and supplies."--_Col. Coffin's Chronicles of the War of 1812_. (_See_ also Appendix.)

NOTE 14, page 29.

She, our neighbour there At Queenston.

This brave woman was Mrs. Maria Hill, a soldier's wife, who pitying the hungry condition of men who had been called out before day-break on a cold October morning, to meet a foe already in partial occupation and temporarily victorious, had no means of procuring or cooking supplies, and indeed could not even break their fast, except by the intervention of those whose property they, for the time, had been unable to defend. Mrs. Hill carried her little stores on to the field, and leaving her babe, who crowed and cheered, it is said, as though mightily diverted by the sight of the red-coats, under the shelter of a wood-pile, lighted fires, boiled water, and carried tea and food to as many of the men on the field as she could supply.

NOTE 15, page 30.

The Lady Harriet Acland.

This lady was the daughter of Stephen, first Earl of Ilchester, and accompanied her husband, Major John Dyke-Acland, to Canada in 1776.

The story put into the mouth of Sergeant George Mosier may be found in the _Saturday Magazine_ for May, 1835, and also in Burke's "Romance of the Aristocracy." Her beauty, bravery and tender love for her husband made the name of Lady Harriet Acland an honour and delight among the men of her husband's regiment, and thus it is that Sergeant Mosier is made her historian with great propriety.

In the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for February, 1778, I also find the following note, p. 69, in "Extracts from the Congress Accounts of the Northern Expeditions":

"Oct. 11.--Some letters passed between the Generals, the first from Gen. Burgoyne, by Lady Acland, whose husband was dangerously wounded, recommending her Ladyship to the care and protection of Gen. Gates. Gen. Gates's answer, in which he expresses his surprise that his Excellency, after considering his preceding conduct, should think that he could consider the greatest attention to Lady Acland in the light of an _obligation_."

NOTE 16, page 30.

Save perhaps the Baroness.

The Baroness Reidessel, the wife of one of the officers of the Hessians. This lady, together with the wives of Major Harnage and Lieutenant Reynell, was with Lady Acland during the painful march that preceded the action of the 19th September, 1777. They had followed the route of the artillery and baggage as being less likely of attack on the road, and when the engagement begun found themselves at a little uninhabited hut, from whence they could hear the roll of the guns that were carrying death to scores of brave men. Here they had to endure a great trial, for their only refuge was also the only place to which the wounded, who soon began to arrive in great numbers, could be brought for first care. Soon Major Harnage was brought in desperately wounded. Not long after the news arrived that Lieutenant Reynell was shot dead, and before the day was done Major Acland was a prisoner dangerously wounded. Herself saved for the present such terrible trials, Baroness Reidessel distinguished herself by her ministrations to her suffering companions, and to the dying and wounded around, thus gaining the affectionate remembrance of many a poor fellow who had no other ray of comfort in his anguish.

NOTE 17, page 37.

"Rule Britannia."

This, together with "The King: God bless him," and "The Duke of York's March" were at this period new and favourite tunes all over the British Empire. In the _Times_, Oct. 3, 1798, under the heading "Drury Lane Theatre," it is reported that "after the play the news of Admiral Nelson's victory (over the French under Admiral Brueys at Rosetta) produced a burst of patriotic exultation that has been rarely witnessed in a theatre. 'Rule Britannia' was lustily called for from every part of the house, and Messrs. Kelly, Dignum, Sedgwick, Miss Leak and Mrs. Bland came forward and sang it, accompanied by numbers of the audience. It was called for and sung a second time. The acclamations were the loudest and most fervent we have ever witnessed. The following lines, written for the occasion, were introduced by Mr. Dignum and Mr. Sedgwick:

"'Again the tributary strain Of grateful Britons, let us raise; And to the heroes on the main, Triumphant add a Nelson's praise. Though the "Great Nation" proudly boasts Herself invincible to be, Yet oft brave Nelson still can prove Britannia Mistress of the Sea.'

"The audience was not satisfied with this repeated mark of exultation, but in the effusion of enthusiasic loyalty called for 'God Save the King,' which was received with reiterated plaudits."

In another column of the same issue it is told that, "A person last night in the gallery of Drury Lane House calling frequently in a boisterous manner for the tune of 'Britons, Strike Home!' was immediately silenced by the appropriate observation of another at some distance from him, 'Why, damn it, they have, haven't they?'"

The great popularity of "Rule Britannia" was owing to its entire consonance with the spirit of the nation, a popularity not even yet diminished. A further instance of its use in the celebration of a great national event is given in the _Times_, Nov. 7, 1805, in which is recorded the official account of the Battle of Trafalgar and the death of Nelson. At Covent Garden, where both the Kembles were then playing together with Mrs. Siddons, a "hasty but elegant compliment to the memory of Lord Nelson" was presented. It "consisted of columns in the foreground decorated with medallions of the naval heroes of Britain. In the distance a number of ships were seen, and the front of the picture was filled by Mr. Taylor and the principal singers of the theatre. They were grouped in an interesting manner with their eyes turned toward the clouds, from whence a half-length portrait of Lord Nelson descended with the following words underwritten, 'Horatio Nelson, Ob. 21st Oct.'" Mr. Taylor and the other performers then sang "Rule Britannia," verse and chorus. The following additional verse, written by Mr. Ashley, of Bath, was introduced and sung by Mr. Taylor with the most affecting expression. It was universally encored:--

"Again the loud-toned trump of fame, Proclaims Britannia rules the main; While sorrow whispers Nelson's name, And mourns the gallant hero slain. Rule, brave Britons, rule the main. Revenge the God-like hero slain."

NOTE 18, page 37.

Can you wonder? ... shot at, etc.

The cruel treatment of the Loyalists, or _King's Men_, by the _Continentals_, as they called themselves, is one of the features of this painful time, records of which abound: the story of Moody is well known: another as authentic may be here quoted. The Rev. G. A. Anderson, late Chaplain to the Reformatory at Penetanguishene, in writing to the press with reference to the U. E. L. Celebration in 1884, says:

"My grandfather, Samuel Anderson, was born of Irish parents, near Boston, 4th May, 1736.... He joined the King's forces, serving under General Abercrombie ... then under General Amherst, ... and was at the taking of Ticonderoga.... In 1775 he was offered a captaincy in the _Continental_ service which he peremptorily refused. Some time after he was offered the command of a regiment; this he also refused. He was at once suspected of being a _King's Man_, taken prisoner, and with several others, confined in Litchfield gaol, where he suffered almost death for two years. One morning, having heard that he and his fellow-prisoners were to be shot the following day, being a powerful man he wrenched the iron bars from the windows, and, with his companions, escaped to Canada...."

A quotation from the "Boston Confiscation Act," Sept., 1778, ch. 48, speaks volumes as to the attitude of the new Republic towards the Loyalists: "In Massachusetts a person suspected of enmity to the Whig cause could be arrested under a magistrate's warrant, and banished, unless he would swear fealty to the friends of liberty; and the select-men of towns could prefer charges of political treachery in town meetings, and the individual thus accused, if convicted by a jury, could be sent into the enemy's jurisdiction. Massachusetts also designated by name, and generally by occupation and residence, three hundred and eight of her people, of whom seventeen had been inhabitants of Maine who had fled from their houses, and denounced against any one of them who should return apprehension, imprisonment and transportation to a place possessed by the British, and for a second voluntary return, without leave, death, without the benefit of clergy. By another law the property of twenty-nine persons, who were denominated 'notorious conspirators,' was confiscated; of these fifteen had been appointed 'Mandamus Councillors,' two had been Governors, one Lieutenant-Governor, one Treasurer, one Attorney-General, one Chief Justice and four Commissioners of Customs."--Lorenzo Sabine, _Historical Essay prefixed to Biographical Sketches of the American Loyalists_. (See further, chapters 39 and 41, vol. 2, Ryerson's _Loyalists of America and Their Times_. _See_ also Appendix.)

NOTE 19, page 38.

"James Coffin is good."

The name of Coffin is famous in the annals, military, naval and civil, of Canada, and is scarcely less marked in the history of the earlier United States of America. Two branches of the family came, U. E. Loyalists, to Canada in 1775-78. One established itself on the St. John, New Brunswick, the other in Quebec. "Twenty years after the landing from the _Mayflower_, the first of the name put in an appearance from Brixton, near Plymouth, South Devon, England, at Newbury Port, in New Hampshire." James Coffin, mentioned above, was the sixth son of John Coffin, who settled in Quebec, and did such good service at the _Pres-de-ville_, when Montgomery and Arnold invaded the Province. Like all the Coffins, James was of a genial and kindly disposition, and his appointment as a Commissary Officer permitted opportunities for consideration and courtesy to people of all ranks, which he did not fail to avail himself of. He died Assistant Commissary-General in 1835, at Quebec.

NOTE 20, page 40.

From proffered gifts, or gold.

"To the soldiers of this regiment (the 41st), as indeed to all others, every temptation had been presented to induce them to desert and enlist in their service, by money, land, etc. After it was found impossible to persuade any number of them to do so the American Government encamped them, for nearly two months, in a pestilential marsh near Sandusky without covering." (_See_ Dr. Strachan's letter, as Treasurer of the Loyal and Patriotic Society of Upper Canada, to Thomas Jefferson, Esq., Ex-President of the United States of America.)

NOTE 21, page 41.

The beech-ridge.

This was a ridge of high land clad with beeches which overhung a hollow in the road to Beaver Dam, and now forms the basin of the Welland Canal. "The spot," says Colonel Coffin, "which then rang with the outcries of the combatants now resounds with the hum of industry and the working-chant of the sailor."

NOTE 22, page 47.

The small, neglectful bird.

This is Tengmalm's Owl, or Death-bird. "The Indians of North America," says Rev. J. G. Wood, "have a superstition that whoever hears the note of this bird must whistle in reply, and if the bird returns no answer the person will die within the year."

NOTE 23, page 50.

Beaver Dam--Decau's house.

Decau's farm house at the Beaver Dam was British headquarters more than once during the War of 1812. Close to this famous spot the town of Thorold now stands, and the interested visitor may reach it by tram-car from St. Catharines. Decau's Falls, near by, preserve the memory of the ancient settler on the spot in less correct orthography, Decew and less euphonious form than the original, which is said to have been also, Decamps.

Another form of it may be found in "Loyalists of America," p, 243:

"In the summer of 1800 my mother had a very nice help as nurse. Jenny Decow had been apprenticed to a relative, and at the age of eighteen, she received her bed, her cow, and two or three suits of clothing (those articles it was customary to give to a bound girl) and she was considered legally of age, with the right to earn her own living as best she could. ... Jenny had a wooer, ... young Daniel McCall made his appearance."

NOTE 24, page 50.

Fitzgibbon.

This brave officer is thus described in the letter of "A Green 'Un," I have elsewhere quoted, and which was written in 1852, at which date Colonel Fitzgibbon was yet alive:--"Colonel Fitzgibbon has long been known in Canada, in both a civil and a military capacity, and if he was now present he would be able to give you much more interesting and valuable information. At the time of this attack" (Black Rock, July 12th, 1813), "he was a Lieutenant in the 49th, and his daring spirit and energy of character were well known to the whole army. General Vincent had placed him in command of a sort of independent company of Rangers. Volunteers from the different regiments were asked for, and strange to say so many men offered that it was difficult to decide who should be permitted to go. From the numerous young subs. desirous of joining him he selected his friend Lieutenant Winder of the 49th (now Dr. Winder, Librarian to the House of Assembly at Quebec), Volunteer D. A. McDonnell of the 8th, Volunteer Augustus Thompson of the 49th; and another youngster of the 49th (the late Judge Jarvis, of Cornwall) who were permitted as a great favour to join his corps." Colonel Coffin in his "Chronicles of the War of 1812," gives a very full account of Colonel Fitzgibbon's career, of which only a brief outline is proper here. Colonel James Fitzgibbon was the son of an English farmer, had a little early education, and acquired a fondness for reading; his passion for arms was irresistible. At seventeen he enlisted, and the same day, 25th, October, 1798, was made a sergeant. At twenty-one he was made Sergeant-Major. He served in Ireland and before Copenhagen, where the 49th acted as marines. He was appointed to an ensigncy and adjutancy, and came to Canada. In 1809 he succeeded to a lieutenancy; and resigned the adjutancy to command a small detachment in the field. His exploits at the Beaver Dam gave him his company. He thus rose by dint of meritorious service, at a time when commissions and promotions were not so freely given to deserving men as they are now. On this, and on all other occasions, during the war, Fitzgibbon made his mark.

"At the close of the war, he settled in Canada, and filled many offices of honour and emolument under the Government. His last appointment was that of Clerk to the Legislative Council. He retired on a pension, and returned to his native land, when, in just appreciation of his services, he was made a Military Knight of Windsor."

NOTE 25, page 50.

"The Times." A newspaper of four pages.

The first name of this great newspaper was _The Daily Universal Register_, but it had taken its latest title as early as 1801. An issue of that date containing the official accounts of the Battle of Copenhagen is in the writer's possession.

NOTE 26, page 55.

And gray the dawn, and cold the morn of Rensellaer's attack.

The 11th October had been first decided upon for the invasion of Queenston, but it proved one of those fierce October days that drench the earth with a cold rain, making roads into quagmires, and rivers into torrents, stripping the trees of their leafy honours, and not unfrequently tearing them up by the roots. The 13th opened cold and gray, but developed into a fine fall day, much to the convenience of the invaders. (_See_ also Appendix.)

NOTE 27, page 55.

Though sad to me, who caught Brock's latest breath.

"And our gallant General fell on his left side within a few feet of where I stood. Running up to him, I enquired, 'Are you much hurt, sir?' He placed his hand on his breast but made no reply, and sunk slowly down."--_Mr. G. S. Jarvis (the late Judge Jarvis, of Cornwall), in Auchinleck's History of the War of_ 1812, p. 105.

Mr. Jarvis was taken prisoner at Queenston, but was exchanged for a Captain of militia within a week.

NOTE 28, page 59.

Affliction leaves him in our hands to do him justice.

The noble mind is always alert to see that he who cannot take care of himself shall be tenderly cared for, and that the more fully, the more he is exposed to injury by the prominence or delicacy of his position.

In 1812 the King's malady, which in 1805 is recorded to have affected his eyes to such a degree that "he had to wear a green shade ... after candle-light," and could not "distinguish any person unless he be very near," and by the assistance of a glass, had increased to such an extent that Prince George had to be appointed Regent, and there were not wanting those who chose the opportunity to laugh at and depreciate the King's character.

NOTE 28a, page 60.

Like dart of Annee-meekee.

Annee-meekee is the Ojibway for the thunder; "dart of" consequently is the lightning.

NOTE 29, page 59.

Of whom some fought for him at Copenhagen.

The majority of the men with Fitzgibbon at Beaver Dam belonged to the 49th Regiment, to which Fitzgibbon himself belonged. It was also Brock's regiment. He had joined it in 1791 at Barbadoes. The regiment being removed to Jamaica, Brock was thence obliged to get leave of absence in 1793 on account of his health. On June 24, 1795, after doing recruiting service both in England and Jersey, he purchased his majority. Next year his regiment returned from Jamaica, and on the 25th October, 1797, he purchased his lieutenant-colonelcy, and soon after became senior lieutenant-colonel. In August, 1799, the 49th Regiment was ordered to Holland as part of the force under Sir Ralph Abercrombie. On the return of the expedition, the 49th was again quartered in Jersey until the spring of 1801, when it was despatched with the fleet for the Baltic under Sir Hyde Parker. The same year the 49th returned to England, and in the next spring was sent to Canada where it took up its quarters at York (Toronto). On the flag of the regiment is inscribed "Egmont-op-Zee," "Copenhagen," "Queenstown," and its colours and appointments bear the word "China" and the device of the Dragon.

Of the career of the 49th Regiment in Canada during the war of 1812-15, it is impossible to speak too highly. From their brilliancy of attack and energy in action the American soldiers dubbed them the "Green Tigers," and on the fatal day at Queenston, those of the wounded who had passed over "had described the charge of the 'Green Tigers' and militia in the morning, and had warned them what they might expect if they came in contact with troops infuriated by the loss of their beloved General" (Auchinleck, p. 106.) That the 49th revelled in the honour conferred by such a _soubriquet_ is clear from the fact that Fitzgibbon's company dubbed themselves "Fitzgibbon's Green 'Uns," and one of them, the late Judge Jarvis, of Cornwall, then a cadet of eighteen, says, over the _nom de plume_' "A Green 'Un," in Auchinleck: "We were all dressed in green uniform made from clothing which had been taken from the enemy."

In a private letter to the writer Judge Jarvis says, under date _Cornwall, 7th November_, 1876: "The uniform of the 49th was, of course, of a scarlet colour with green facings, rather a light green. Around the edges of the cuffs and collar was a band of gold lace one inch wide, thus (a drawing is given).

"The militia had no uniform during the War of 1812; they were furnished with a blanket only." At the taking of Fort Detroit the militia are generally said to have been in uniform, but these were only a few and in the first engagement.

"The Americans wore coarse grey or blue cloth, mostly the former." Homespun; in pursuance of the line of action required by the blockade. "One regiment, the Irish Greens, wore dark green cloth, but they were not at either Stony Creek or Beaver Dam."

NOTE 30, page 59.

--and the Queen's, too, Who loves all nobleness.

Queen Charlotte's intense admiration for all nobility of character is well exemplified by Sir Walter Scott in Jennie Deans ("Heart of Midlothian"), to whom she showed the most marked kindness and sympathy. This was but one instance out of many which were well known and duly appreciated by the British people.

NOTE 31, page 60.

You, Cummings, mount.

James Cummings, of Chippewa, was engaged in the Indian trade. He accompanied Clark's plucky expedition on Black Rock, when they surprised the work, captured the guard together with several stand of arms, one brass six-pounder, and a large store of provisions. On Bishopp hearing of this exploit, he fired up, "Hang the fellow, he has got before me. By Jove, it was well done; we'll try it again." And he did, as history tells.

NOTE 32, page 60.

Twelve-Mile Creek.

"The site of St. Catharines, formerly known as the Twelve-Mile Creek or Shipman's Corners, after the oldest inhabitant of the place, was first selected as a country residence by the Hon. Robert Hamilton, father of the Hamilton who gave his name to the flourishing and rising city which still bears it, so early as the year 1800, at which period he owned the mills afterwards known as the Thomas's Mills, upon the Twelve-Mile Creek, up to which point boats at that time ascended. But it was not until after the war, viz., in 1816, that the town-plot of St. Catharines was first purchased and laid out as a village by the Hon. W. H. Merritt and Jonathan H. Clendennen, and received the name of St. Catharines, in honour of Mrs. Robert Hamilton, whose name was Catharine." --_Anglo-American Magazine_, vol. 3, p. 129.

NOTE 33, page 60.

I have friends beyond.

These were the household of Miss Tourney, an intimate friend of Mrs. Secord, and owner of a large farm some three miles beyond Beaver Dam. To this house Mrs. Secord proceeded, accompanied by an escort furnished by Lieut. Fitzgibbon, but, it need hardly be said, not exactly in the manner described. Here "she slept right off, for she had journeyed on foot twenty miles, and safely, God be praised." Mrs. Secord returned to her anxious husband on the third day after having started on her perilous undertaking, but neither through the woods, nor on foot, thanks to her brave deed, and the success of British arms.

NOTE 34, page 63.

Ye Yankee rogue! ye coward!

This incident, which Col. Coffin places as preceding the occupation of Beaver Dam by Fitzgibbon, is thus described by Judge Jarvis in a letter subsequent to the one already quoted, and which was apparently dictated by the awakening of did memories by the enquiries that led to the former letter: "Although I write with great labour and pain" [the result of rheumatism] "I cannot refrain from giving you the following incident. Lieut. Fitzgibbon, who always preferred going on any dangerous expedition to sending any other person, on receiving the information of the patriotic woman, went forward to reconnoitre. On approaching a small tavern two American soldiers came out of the door, and immediately presented their rifles. He seized the rifles, and crossed them in front of his person" [Col. Coffin says: He seized the musket of the more advanced man and by main strength threw him upon his fellow, whose musket he also grappled with the other hand'] "so that neither could fire without shooting his fellow-soldier. Here he held them until one of them drew Lieut. Fitzgibbon's sword, and held it up over his head, of course intending to stab him forthwith. The woman of the house saw the position, and rushed out and seized the sword, and got it from the soldier's hand. Fitzgibbon then tripped up one of the soldiers and felled the other with a blow, then took them both prisoners and marched them into the line occupied by his company."

It is a pity this brave woman's name cannot be discovered in order that it might be added to the roll of those patriotic women whose names adorn Canadian history.

NOTE 35, page 64.

Lieut.-Col. Thomas Clark.

Lieutenant-Colonel Clark, of the 2nd Lincoln Militia, was, says Colonel Coffin, "a Scotchman by birth." He "was an Indian trader and forwarder of goods to the Western hunting grounds; a member of the firm of Street & Clark.... From the first outbreak of the war Clark was foremost in frontier frail. He had acquired the confidence of his men, and obtained the cordial co-operation of those who, like Bishopp, understood volunteers, and could appreciate the merits of the extemporaneous soldier."

NOTE 36, page 64.

"But twenty sir, all told."

These were militia. "Old Isaac Kelly," says Colonel Coffin (Chronicles of the War of 1812), "born and raised on 48 Thorold, a septuagenarian, hale and hearty, who still [in 1864] lives not a mile from the spot, tells how, when he was a boy of eighteen, and was in the act of 'hitching up' his horses for the plough, he heard the firing in the wood, and outcries of the Indians; how he ran to his two brothers, both a-field; how the three got their muskets--they were all militiamen--men home to put in a crop; how, led by the sounds, they crossed the country to the beech grove, meeting eight or ten more by the way, suddenly roused, like themselves; how, from behind the trees, they opened fire on the American train, and on the guns which were then unlimbering to the rear, and how the Americans, more worried and bothered than hurt, changed their position, and took-up ground in David Millar's apple orchard."

NOTE 37, page 64.

Boerstler's lost his head.

Not altogether without reason. "We frightened the enemy," says Judge Jarvis, in a letter before quoted, "with our Indians, and from sounding the bugle on different positions to make them suppose we were numerous, and had them surrounded."

NOTE 38, page 65.

Terms generous and honourable, sir.

"Particulars of the capitulation made between Captain McDowell, on the part of Lieutenant-Colonel Boerstler, of the United States Army, and Major De Haren, of his Britannic Majesty's Canadian Regiment, on the part of Lieutenant Colonel Bishopp, commanding the advance of the British, respecting the force under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Boerstler:

"Article 1.--That Lieutenant-Colonel Boerstler and the forces under his command shall surrender prisoners of war.

"Article 2.--That the officers shall retain their arms, horses and baggage.

"Article 3.--That the non-commissioned officers and soldiers shall lay down their arms at the head of the British column, and shall become prisoners of war.

"Article 4.--That the militia and volunteers with Lieutenant-Colonel Boerstler shall be permitted to return to the United States on parole.

"ANDREW MCDOWELL,

"_Captain of the United States Light Artillery_.

"Acceded to and signed,

"P. G. BOERSTLER,

"_Lieut.-Col. commanding detachment United States Army_.

"P. V. DE HAREN,

"_Major Canadian Regiment_."

--_Auchinleck's History of the War_, p. 175.

NOTE 39, page 65.

The golden epaulettes.

These were the insignia of a captain's rank in those days, and as Major De Haren is made to predict, Lieutenant Fitzgibbon won his company by the exploit of Beaver Dam.

A BALLAD OF 1812.

NOTE 1, page 70.

Irresolution ruled.

Proctor's irresolution, timidity, or want of promptness, led to many disasters, notably that at Moraviantown, and at length was his own destruction.

NOTE 2, page 70.

Our people, by forced parole held.

James says, "No sooner had the American Army got possession of the Niagara frontier [27th May, 1813] than officers with parties were sent to every farmhouse and hovel in the neighbourhood to exact a parole from the male inhabitants of almost every age. Some were glad of this excuse for remaining peaceably at their houses, and those who made any opposition were threatened to be sent across the river, and thrown into a noisome prison."

NOTE 3, page 72.

The substance all too poor and sparse Our stinted fields may grow.

The war was declared on the 18th of June, and at once every able male in the Provinces sprang to arms. The necessary absence from their farms thus forced upon them curtailed the sowing, and lessened the harvest, though the women and children of every rank did their utmost to countervail the losses thus threatened. The next year there was less to sow and less, consequently, to reap, notwithstanding the leave granted to the militia at all possible junctures, to attend to their work; but intermittent farming is not more successful than other occasionally prosecuted labour, and the war laid bare many previously fruitful clearings.

NOTE 4, page 73.

Or many-rattled snake.

An extraordinary danger attended the bite of the rattlesnake in the case of a married woman. The Jenny Decow alluded to in Note 23 had become Mrs. McCall, and while working in the field with her husband was bitten. Her husband killed the snake, thinking, according to the ideas of the time, that by so doing he should save his wife's life; he also sucked the poison from the wound; but before he had carried her to her cottage the foot had burst. An Indian remedy was applied, but it was years before she recovered from the effects of that bite. In the meantime two children were born, each of whom turned spotted and sore, and then died. A third born after her recovery was strong and healthy, and grew to manhood.

NOTE 5, page 73.

Oh, at the mill my brother lies Just at the point of death.

This was Mr. Charles Ingersoll, after whom Mrs. Secord named her only son. He had been wounded, and lay at St. David's Mill in a very precarious condition. He recovered, however, to fight again, and to become one of Woodstock's most prominent citizens.

NOTE 6, page 74.

The fritil' butterfly.

This is the small fritillary, a beautiful little creature that may be seen flitting from blossom to blossom, or careering in the early summer air in the manner almost of a tumbler pigeon, before any other of its kind has left its winter's cradle. It is beautifully marked, of a golden brown, and the edges, of the wings are bordered with a narrow vandyking of pearly gray.

NOTE 7, page 74.

She hears the wolves' dread bands.

"Wolves were the pests of the country for many years, and even after they were partially expelled by the settlers, they used to make occasional descents upon the settlements, and many a farmer that counted his sheep by twenties at night would be thankful if he could muster half a score in the morning."-_See Ryerson's Loyalists_, p. 246.

NOTE 8, page 75.

Doomed St. David's Mill.

Auchinleck says, "From the 8th of July" [Chippewa was fought on the 4th] "to the 23rd of the month, General Brown, with his enormous force, was content to remain without striking a blow, unless an occasional demonstration before Forts George and Mississaga, or the wanton conflagration of the village of St David's, be considered as such."

Of this atrocity an American officer, a Major McFarland, writes:--"The militia and Indians plundered and burnt every thing. The whole population is against us; not a foraging party but is fired on, and not infrequently returns with missing numbers. This state was to be anticipated The militia have burnt several private dwelling-houses, and, on the 19th instant, burnt the village of St. David's, consisting of about thirty or forty houses. This was done within three miles of camp, and my battalion was sent to cover the retreat, as they [the militia] had been sent to scour the country, and it was presumed they might be pursued. My God, what a service! I never witnessed such a scene, and had not the commanding officer of the party, Lieutenant-Colonel Stone, been disgraced" [he was dismissed the service by sentence of a court-martial for this deed] "and sent out of the army, I should have resigned my commission."

This disgust was not caused by any half-heartedness in the war on the part of Major McFarland, for he says in the same letter that "he desires no better fun than to fight the British troops."

NOTE 9, page 80.

Oh, chief, indeed no spy am I.

So impossible did it appear to the Indian that a woman should be found traversing alone so strongly invested a section of the country, that it was with the greatest difficulty Mrs. Secord persuaded him of the truth of her story.

NOTE 10, page 82.

Nay, five and forty, one by one, Have borne her from the day.

From 1813 to 1860, seven and forty. Five is, however, used as a division of equality.

NOTE 11, page 83.

And when from o'er the parting seas, A royal letter came.

"When, in 1860, the Prince of Wales was at Niagara, he went to see the aged lady, and from her own lips heard the tale; and, learning that her fortune did not equal her fame, he sent her, most delicately and most gracefully, the sum of one hundred guineas. God bless him for _that_, is the aspiration of every true Canadian heart. He is his mother's true son."--_Col. Coffin's Chronicles of the War of 1812_.

JUBILEE POEM.

NOTE 1, page 84.

Mercy, whose message bore thy first command.

The first act of the Crown which Her Majesty was called upon to perform was the signing of the death-warrant of a soldier who had been sentenced to be shot for desertion. The Queen took it keenly, and asked the Duke of Wellington if there was no possible plea on which the man could be respited: had he _no_ good quality?

"Your Majesty, he is a very bad soldier, having deserted three times; but I believe he is a good husband."

"Oh, thank you," the Queen replied, and wrote "Pardoned" across the document.

THE HERO OF ST. HELEN'S ISLAND.

NOTE 1, page 86.

This touching incident, bright example as it is of that fine sense of duty that has built up the renown of the British Army, is related in his charming volume, "The Emigrant," by Sir Francis Bond Head. The author, in introducing it, says: "In the different regions of the globe it has been my fortune to visit, I have always experienced great pleasure in pausing for a few minutes at the various spots which have been distinguished by some feat or other of British enterprise, British mercy, British honesty, British generosity or British valour.

"About the time I was in Canada a trifling circumstance occurred on the breaking up of the ice, which I feel proud to record.

"In the middle of the great St. Lawrence there is, nearly opposite Montreal, an island called St. Helen's, between which and the shore the stream, about three quarters of a mile broad, runs with very great rapidity, and yet, notwithstanding this current, the intense cold of winter invariably freezes its surface.

"The winter which I am speaking of was unusually severe, and the ice on the St. Lawrence particularly thick; however, while the river beneath was rushing towards the sea, the ice was waiting in abeyance in the middle of the stream until the narrow fastness between Montreal and St. Helen's should burst, and allow the whole mass to break into pieces, and then in stupendous confusion to hurry downwards towards Quebec." The story follows, and in winding up the account Sir Francis says: "Colour-Sergeant William Delaney, and Private George Morgan, of the 24th Regiment now at Chatham, were eye-witnesses of the above occurrence."

The dangers Sergeant Neill so bravely encountered are thus graphically depicted by Sir Francis B. Head on p. 42 of the same volume, in describing the breaking up of the ice of the River Humber, a stream not a tenth of the length or breadth of the St. Lawrence, so that the scene bears but a slight comparison to that witnessed on the larger river. "... As soon as the great movement commenced, these trees and the ice were hurried before my eyes in indescribable confusion. Every piece of ice, whatever might be its shape or size, as it proceeded, was either revolving horizontally or rearing up on end until it reeled over; sometimes a tree striking against the bottom would rise slowly up, and for a moment stand erect as if it grew out of the river; at other times it would, apparently for variety's sake, stand on its head with its roots uppermost and then turn over; sometimes the ice as it proceeded would rise up like a house and chimneys, and then rolling head over heels, sink, leaving in its place clear water.

"In a few hours the turmoil was completely at an end, the torrent had diminished, the stream had shrunk to its ordinary limits, and nothing. remained to tell of the struggle." (_See_ also Appendix.)

LIVINGSTONE.

Note 1, page 101.

Snatched by the hand of God his groaning millions.

The representations by Livingstone of the terrible condition among the inland peoples of Africa by slavery, tribe enslaving tribe, people making war upon people for the sake of prisoners to be sent to the slave market, and the horrors endured by the poor wretches, thus given over to a fate worse than death, by the greed of the Arabian and certain white merchants of the coast, led to action on the part of the British and other Governments, which has done much to break up the inhuman traffic, and will never cease "till that wide wound be healed."

THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE.

Note 1, page 122.

This little comedy appeared in _Gripsack_ for 1882, and was written at the request of the editor of _Grip_, who was, and is, in full sympathy with all efforts to secure the rights of women. At that date the Council of University College had refused to entertain the application of ladies to be admitted to the lectures of University College, and that such an adventure with its _denouement_ did not become a fact is only to be credited to the wisdom that, on further consideration, withdrew the objection, for history affords many instances of woman's use of a disguise in order to attain her wishes, and the annals of co-education furnish numerous proofs of her equality with, and not unfrequently her superiority to, her rivals of the other sex in competitive examinations.

Note 2, page 127.

To think that down in Canterbury, girls.

The circumstance here so mournfully quoted by Kate was a fact. The University of Canterbury, New Zealand, was open alike to men and women. The examination papers used were prepared by Cambridge University (England) on the same standing as their own, and were returned to Cambridge for adjudication thereon. In 1881 a lady took the degree of B.A., the first in the world, and was invested with the hood with some _eclat_.

NOTE 3, page 136.

Who in this city form a ladies' club.

The Toronto Women's Literary Club, incepted by Dr. Emily H. Stowe, of Toronto, and meeting at her house from 1876 until its resolution into the Canadian Women's Suffrage Association in 1883, was responsible for the public agitation of the right of women to admission to University College; and also for the circulation of the petition to that end, which, by the kind help of many of members of the Legislature, won from the Provincial Parliament a recommendation to the Senate of the University that women should be admitted. Several of the leading fourth year men of 1882 offered their assistance in circulating the petition among the students; and the greatest sympathy was shown by educators in every part of the Dominion.

* * * * *

APPENDICES.

APPENDIX NO. 1.

[The following account of 13th Oct., 1812, written by Lieut.-Colonel Evans, of the Eighth or King's Regiment, Acting Brigade-Major to the Forces at that date, will be read with interest, and is doubly valuable as being a piece of well-attested history.]

GOVERNMENT HOUSE, Fort George. Oct. 15, 1812.

After dinner on the evening of the 11th inst., Major-General Brock handed me a note from Captain Dennis, commanding flank companies of the 49th Regiment at Queenstown. After perusing its contents, which were of an alarming nature, setting forth the highly mutinous state of his detachment, his men having deliberately threatened to shoot their officers, etc., the General said, "Evans, you will proceed early in the morning and investigate this business, and march, as prisoners, in here, half-a-dozen of those most culpable, and I will make an example of them. You can also cross the river and tell Van Rensellaer I expect he will immediately exchange the prisoners taken in the _Detroit_ and _Caledonia_ [two vessels coming from Amherstburgh cut out by Americans whilst at anchor at Fort Erie] for an equal number of Americans I released after the capture of Detroit."

I reached Queenstown early in the morning of the 12th, and finding many of the grenadier company confined, and the guard-house gutted, and Captain Dennis himself in apparent alarm at the state of things, I proposed proceeding at once to select those most prominent, for example. At this juncture, however, and when about leaving Hamilton's house [Captain Dennis' quarters] a scattered fire of musquetry from the American shore took place, and on a musket ball entering the room passing betwixt us, I inquired with surprise the meaning of such unusual insolence. Captain Dennis stating the practice to have existed more or less for some days, insomuch as to render ingress by the river door hazardous, I deemed it fitting first to cross the river, desiring Captain Dennis would prepare his men against my return. On passing along the river bank for Mr. T. Dickson, the enemy kept up an incessant fire of musquetry till I entered that gentleman's house, but happily without mischief. I now begged Mrs. Dickson kindly to, prepare a white handkerchief as a flag of truce, asking Mr. Dickson, who was a Captain of Militia, would he accompany me across the water; he had no objection, but both Mrs. Dickson and all present urged the danger of any attempt to cross, convinced as they were, in the enemy's then temper, the flag would not be respected. Feeling this to be no time for discussing about personal safety, I took Dickson by one hand and the flag in the other, then descending the precipitous steep to the water's edge, we launched our frail canoe amidst an unsparing shower of shot which fell all around us; nor did the firing cease till the canoe, become quite unmanageable, tossed about in the waters of the strong eddies; when, as if struck by shame at his dastardly attempt to deter us from our purpose the enemy gave the signal to cease fire. I was thus relieved (and enabled) on approaching the shore to observe more calmly all that was passing. On touching the ground, with water in the leaky canoe ankle deep, I was about, as was my custom, leaping ashore, when a sentinel from a guard brought to the spot, came to the charge with fixed bayonet, authoritatively commanding me not to leave the boat. To my enquiry for Colonel Solomon Van Rensellaer, (the Adjutant-General) with whom I usually conferred, I was told he was sick. I then stated having an important message from General Brock for their Commander, which if inconvenient for their General to receive from me personally, I begged an official person might be immediately deputed to convey it to him. After some delay, Mr. Toock, the General's Secretary, made his appearance, but his reply to General Brock's request being abrupt, and as I thought somewhat significant, "that nothing could be done till the day after to-orrow," I ventured to remind him of General Brock's liberality towards their people which the fortune of war had thrown into his hands, entreating that he would again consult his General, and enable me to carry to mine something more satisfactory. In compliance, as he stated, with my wishes, but as it appeared to me, more with the intent to consume my time, rendered precious from its being after midday, he detained me in my miserable position for more than two hours, and then returned expressing the General's regret "that the prisoners having been marched for Albany they could not instanter be brought back, but that might assure General Brock with his respects that all should be settled to their mutual satisfaction the day after to-morrow." I was now too anxious to depart to wish the parley prolonged, my mind being quite made up as to the enemy's intentions, and to the course it was most fitting for me to pursue under the circumstances. It had not escaped me that their saucy numbers had been prodigiously swelled by a horde of half-savage troops from Kentucky, Ohio and Tennessee, which evidently made it hazardous for their northern countrymen to show their accustomed respect for a flag of truce from a foe; but my most important discovery was their boats slung in the sides or fissures on the river bank covered only by the brush, with indeed many decided indications that an attack on our shores could not be prudently delayed for a single day. Under such impression the first thing on reaching our own side was the removal by Mr. Dickson of his family from his own house on the beach, the very site of the prospective struggle, and giving note of preparation to the few militia which, with the 49th flank companies, were all the immediate disposable force for the defence of Queenstown. Aware of the imminence and magnitude of the danger, the lateness of the hour, after three p.m., and distance from Fort George, Headquarters more than six miles, I hesitated not assuming the responsibility of liberating all the 49th prisoners, on the specious plea of their offence proceeding from a too free indulgence in drink, appealing to them for proof of their loyalty and courage, which they were assured would be severely tested ere another day dawned. Then, after a rapid but effective arrangement of the several points requiring attention, seeing to the re-supply of fresh ammunition, and infusing all the spirit and animation in my power to impart, I left Captain Dennis, exhorting his utmost diligence in keeping his charge on the alert for repelling the enemy's attempt, which I foresaw would not be deferred. Having to put the many posts on the line of communication on the _qui vive_, although I rode at full speed, it was past six p.m. ere I reached Fort George, and then from having been exposed for thirteen hours, under much anxiety, to wet feet and extreme heat, without refreshment of any kind, I was so exhausted as to be unequal to further immediate effort. Refreshed, I narrated to General Brock all that had occurred, the precautionary steps I had taken, and the responsibility I had assumed as to the 49th prisoners, which, under the stated circumstances, I trusted he would approve, and at once authorize my making preparations for coming events, so indispensably required. The General evidently doubting at first, hesitated, but seeing my earnestness in rebuking his attendants of charging my being over-sanguine, and chagrin at their proffered bets against my predictions, he became unusually grave, desired I would follow him to the office, where at his request I succinctly recapitulated the day's occurrences, adding my solemn conviction that a moment was not to be lost in effectually preparing for defence.

The General now thanked me, approved of all that I had done, and, returning to the dining room, directed officials to be immediately written and despatched by Provincial Dragoons, calling in the militia of the vicinity that same evening, those more distant to follow with all alacrity. I was directed to make all requisite preparations at Headquarters. In this work I was busied till near eleven p.m., with but few converts, however, to my convictions, when, worn down by fatigue, I stretched myself on my mattrass. After a slumber of a few hours I was aroused by a distant cannonade soon after two a.m., 13th October, but without surprise, well knowing the quarters where the ominous sound came. The General who, himself, had all in readiness at once mounted his horse and proceeded for the post attacked. His Aides-de-Camp were awoke, and soon followed. Major-General Sheaffe, second in command, assumed charge at Headquarters, but the impression on General Brock's mind being that the attempt at Queenstown would prove only a feint to disguise his (the enemy's) real object from the creek in rear of Fort Niagara, his apparent wish was that whilst all were held in readiness to act in any quarter, no decisive movement by the troops should take place till the enemy's intentions were fully developed. The Indians and regular Artillery were, however, promptly despatched, and the _elite_ of the 41st with an equal number of well-drilled militia flank companies ready to follow on the first summons. As the day dawned, the scouts I had sent out reporting no symptoms of hostile movement in the quarter indicated, these troops all proceeded at double quick for the succour of Queenstown, the debouching of the head of which column on the main road appeared to be the signal for opening a brisk cannonade from Fort Niagara on the troops, the town, and Fort.

Soon after, the news of the gallant Brock's unhappy fall reached us, which, by necessarily removing General Sheaffe to Queenstown, the command at Fort George devolved on me as next senior officer. At this moment the scene around was awfully discouraging, the gaol and court house were suddenly wrapped in flames, which as containing many political prisoners, I at first imagined the act of an incendiary, but other buildings soon appearing in a similar state of conflagration left me no longer in doubt as to the new enemy of hot shot with which we had to grapple, and its easy distance, on wooden edifices I foresaw, must be attended with very destructive effect. Luckily, a _posse_ of militia-men had now come in, which I distributed in separate bodies, collecting all the water-buckets and requisite implements from the inhabitants of the town.

This arrangement, though in part effective, from the energy and courage displayed in extinguishing the flames as they occurred, I felt to be insufficient in itself for our security; selecting therefore, all the old veteran militia artillerymen with two intelligent staff non-commissioned officers of the 41st, by bending our whole efforts to the attainment of one object, we at length succeeded in stopping the mischief by diminishing and crippling the enemy's guns, but not before he had burnt to the ground many buildings, amongst the number, beside the gaol and court house, the Chief Engineer's quarters; the more important ones, however, the "Royal Barracks," "Block House," "King's Stores" and other public buildings, though repeatedly fired were, by steady and untiring intrepidity, preserved. Thus temporarily relieved, I was enabled to attend to Capt. Derinzy's (commanding 41st Batt.) note, from which it appeared, he found on arriving at Queenstown, the enemy in possession of the opposite heights, and our heavy one-gun battery there:--that the enfilading on our side, too distant from the landing to be quite effective--then protected by his division--had been powerfully aided by Capt. Holcroft, of the Royal Artillery, who, unmindful of consequences, boldly dashed his gun through the valley into Hamilton's court-yard within point blank range, thus succeeding in sinking some of the enemy's crowded boats and damping the ardour of his troops for crossing. Seeing his critical position Capt. Derinzy had sustained him by a party of the 41st Regiment. He briefly mentioned that the spirited Brock finding on his arrival the 49th grenadiers and militia, though resolutely defending the landing-place, hard pressed, had called to their aid the 49th light company from the Height's summit, the key of the position. The enemy, profiting by this step, moved unperceived about 150 men--and over a precipitous steep it was deemed impracticable for a human being to ascend--who suddenly appeared to the astonished General just on the mountain summit, and the next instant in possession of the redoubt, putting its defenders to the sword. The gallant spirit of Brock, ill brooking to be thus foiled, with a courage deserving a better fate, hastily collected the weak 49th company and a few militia; debouching from a stone building at the mountain's brow, with these little bands, he spiritedly strove to regain his lost position, but in which daring attempt he was killed by a rifle ball entering under the left breast, passing out by the right shoulder. Capt. Williams by taking a wider range, made a second effort, but as the result proved with too inadequate a force, the A.D.C. (McDonell), being mortally wounded and Capt. Williams' head partially scalped by a rifle ball.

These circumstances convinced me General Sheaffe would be more circumspect than attack without a concentration of every disposable man. Under such impressions, after first despatching Lieutenant McIntyre, 41st Regiment, with about 140 men of his regiment and militia, and afterwards Wm. Martin with every regular soldier and a few active militia from Fort George, I hastened to forward, at all hazards, the most active of the men from the many posts on the line of communication. On starting those from Young's Battery, the enemy, as though by signal, re-opened his cannonade from Fort Niagara on Fort George and the town. However mortified by this unlooked-for occurrence, prudence required that whilst sending our whole effective force to Queenstown, Fort George and its dependencies should not be neglected, for what with the alien and prisoners in the Block House, with those set at liberty by firing the gaol, their number was little short of 300, with but a few raw militia left for their security, or that of the fort or town. I was, therefore, left no alternative but to gallop back and ascertain the enemy's power for further mischief. Well it was that I did so, for on reaching the gate of Fort George, I met a crowd of the militia with consternation in their countenances, exclaiming the magazine was on fire. Knowing it to contain 800 barrels of powder, with vent side-walls, not an instant was to be lost. Captain Vigoreux, of the Engineers, therefore, at my suggestion, was promptly on its roof, which movement was with alacrity followed by the requisite number of volunteers, when by the tin being stripped off the blazing wood was extinguished. Thus was confidence reassured. The enemy, taking advantage of a bend in the river, had brought a battery with hot shot to enfilade the barracks, magazine and King's stores, and despite all our efforts to dislodge him he had effectively consumed the store-houses with all the lower buildings, and repeatedly set on fire the barracks and magazine. Our success was perfect: the enemy's fire being again silenced and the necessary precautions taken to avert future disaster, I made another effort to reach Queenstown, when I met Captain Chambers, 41st Regiment, with the glad tidings that General Sheaffe, by a spirited and judicious movement away to his right, and crossing the vale high up with his collected forces, had approached--as to ground--his enemy on more favourable terms, and that his operations had resulted in the enemy's complete destruction. But, for the details of this brilliant success I must refer to the despatches of the distinguished officer who, with his gallant troops, achieved it.

(Signed) THOMAS EVANS,

_Brigade-Major to the Forces_.

[The statement made above by Lieut.-Col. Evans that in the 49th were still smouldering the fires of the insubordination that Brock himself had summarily dealt with several years before, is as remarkable as it is painful to those who would fain think a regiment famed for its brave achievements in so many engagements, and to which Brock had belonged for many years, could not be guilty of anything so disgraceful as is insubordination. It must, however, be remembered that of all duties, garrison duty is most trying to the soldier, and to these men, the greater part of whom were veterans who had fought at Bergen-op-Zoom and Copenhagen, where they had acted as marines, anything approaching to the spirit of the martinet in their superior officers must have been very galling.

To this want of tact on the part of certain officers is attributed, by those who have enquired most carefully into the matter, the uncomfortable state of the gallant 49th at and before the epoch of the war.

Even Brock himself was tired of garrison life at such a stirring time at home, and had applied for active service in Europe, and Major-General Sheaffe had actually been appointed to his offices, both civil and military, when the declaration of war by President Madison gave him the employment he was looking for.]

APPENDIX NO. 2.

[From the other end of the Niagara Frontier comes an equally interesting account of that notable day--the 13th Oct., 1812, that of Lieutenant Driscoll of the 100th Regiment. (See Ryerson's "Loyalists of America and their Times." Vol. 2, pages 36-81.)]

"I was stationed at Fort Erie on the memorable 13th Oct., 1812. At daybreak, having returned with my escort as visiting rounds, after a march of about six miles in muddy roads through the forests, and about to refresh the inward man after my fatiguing trudge, I heard a booming of distant artillery very faintly articulated.

"Having satisfied myself of the certainty of my belief, wet and fatigue were no longer remembered; excitement banishes these trifling matters from the mind; and I posted off to my commanding officer to report the firing, now more audible and rapid.

"I found my chief, booted and spurred and snoring--lying, as was his wont, on a small hair mattrass on the floor in his barrack room, which boasted of furniture, one oak table covered with green baize, a writing desk, a tin basin containing water and a brass candlestick, which had planted in it a regulation mutton-dip, dimly flickering its last ray of light, paling before the dawn, now making its appearance through the curtainless window.

"The noise I made on entering the Major's sleeping and other apartment awoke him. As he sat up on his low mattrass he said, 'What is the matter?' 'Heavy firing down the river, sir.' 'Turn the men out.' 'All under arms, sir.' 'That'll do.'

"By this time he was on his legs--his hat and gloves on. His hutman was at the door with his charger, and his spurs in his horses' flanks in an instant--leaving the orderly, hutman, and myself to double after him up to the fort, some hundred yards off.

"As we reached it, the men were emerging through the gate in measured cadence, and we were on our way to the batteries opposite the enemy's station at Black Rock.

"Before we reached our post of alarm the sun was up and bright. We had not assumed our position long before an orderly officer of the Provincial Dragoons rode up, and gave us the information that the enemy were attempting to cross at Queenston, and that we must annoy them along the whole line, as was being done from Niagara to Queenston, by any and every means in our power short of crossing the river. Everything was ready on our part. The enemy all appeared asleep, judging from the apparent quiet that prevailed on their side the river.

"The command to annoy the enemy was no sooner given than bang! bang! went off every gun that we had in position.

"Now there was a stir. The enemy's guns were in a short time manned, and returned our fire; and the day's work was begun, which was carried on briskly the greater part of the day on both sides of the Niagara.

"About two o'clock, another Provincial Dragoon, bespattered, horse and man, with foam and mud, made his appearance, not wearing sword or helmet.

"Said an old Green Tiger to me: 'Horse and man jaded, sir; depend upon it he brings bad news.' 'Step down and ascertain what intelligence he brings.' Away my veteran doubles, and soon returns at a funeral pace.

"Light heart, light step," were my inward thoughts. I knew by poor old Clibborn's style of return something dreadful had occurred. 'What news, Clibborn? What news, man? Speak out,' said I, as he advanced towards the battery that was still keeping up a brisk fire. Clibborn walked on, perfectly unconscious of the balls that were ploughing up the ground, uttered not a word but shook his head.

"When in the battery the old man sat down on the platform; still no word, but the pallor and expression of his countenance indicated the sorrow of his soul.

"I could stand it no longer. I placed my hand on his shoulder. 'For Heaven's sake, tell us what you know.' 'In choking accents he revealed his melancholy information: 'The General is killed; the enemy has possession of Queenstown Heights.'

"Every man in the battery was paralyzed; the battery ceased firing.

"A cheer by the enemy from the opposite side of the river recalled us to our duty. They had heard of their success down the river. Our men, who had in various ways evinced their feelings--some in weeping, some in swearing--some in mournful silence--now exhibit demoniac energy. The heavy guns are loaded, traversed and fired, as if they were field pieces.

"Too much hurry for precision. 'Take your time, men; don't throw away your fire, my lads.' 'No, sir, but we'll give it to them hot and heavy.'

"All the guns were worked by the 49th men of my own company, and they wished to avenge their beloved chief. Brock, whom they knew and valued with that correct appreciation peculiar to the British soldier. They had all served under him in Holland and at Copenhagen.

"I had a very excellent reconnoitering glass; and as I kept a sharp lookout for the effect of our fire, and the movements of the enemy, I observed that powder was being removed from a large wooden barrack into ammunition waggons. The only man of the Royal Artillery I had with me was a bombardier, Walker. I called his attention to the fact I had observed, and directed him to lay a gun for that part of the building wherefrom the powder was being taken. At my request he took a look through my glass, and, having satisfied himself, he laid the gun as I ordered. I, with my glass, watched the spot aimed at. I saw one plank of the building fall out, and at the same instant the whole fabric went up in a pillar of black smoke, with but little noise, and it was no more--horses, waggons, men and building all disappeared; not a vestige of any was to be seen.

"Now was our turn to cheer; and we plied the enemy in a style so quick and accurate that we silenced all their guns just as a third dragoon came galloping up to us, shouting 'Victory! Victory!' Then again we cheered lustily, but no response came from the other side. Night now hid the enemy from our sight.

"The commissariat made its appearance with biscuit, pork, rum and potatoes, and we broke our fast for that day about nine p.m.

"How strange and unaccountable are the feelings induced by war! Here were men of two nations, but of a common origin, speaking the same language, of the same creed, intent on mutual destruction, rejoicing with fiendish pleasure at their address in perpetrating murder by wholesale, shouting for joy as disasters propagated by the chance of war hurled death and agonizing wounds into the ranks of their opponents! And yet the very same men, when chance gave them the opportunity, would readily exchange, in their own peculiar way, all the amenities of social life, extending to one another a draw of the pipe, a quid or glass; obtaining and exchanging information from one and the other of their respective services, as to pay, rations, etc., the victors with delicacy abstaining from any mention of the victorious day. Though the vanquished would allude to their disaster, the victors never named their triumphs.

"Such is the character of acts and words between British and American soldiers, which I have witnessed, as officer commanding a guard over American prisoners.

"JAMES DRISCOLL,

"_Of the 100th Regiment_."

APPENDIX NO. 3.

[Lieutenant-Colonel Bishopp was a son of Sir Cecil Bishopp, Bart., afterwards Lord de la Zouche. He was an accomplished gentleman. He had served in the Guards. Had represented Newport, in the Isle of Wight, in Parliament. Had been attached to a Russian embassy. Had served with distinction in Flanders, in Spain, in Portugal and died full of hope and promise in Canada, gallantly "doing his duty," and not without avail, for his example still lives.]

"At two a.m. on the morning of the 11th July, 1813, accompanied by Lieutenant-Colonel Thomas Clark, and Lieutenant James Cummings (both of the Lincoln Militia), backed by about 240 men--200 being regulars, and forty of the 2nd and 3rd Lincoln Militia, Bishopp swooped down upon Black Rock, the American naval depot on the River Niagara.

"The assault was a success; the work of destruction of the naval stores, chiefly by sinking them in the river, was complete. But Porter's force was aroused, and a speedy retreat on the part of Bishopp necessary. The men re-embarked unmolested, and Bishopp was the last to retire. Scarcely had they left the bank when the Indians who had crawled to the top commenced to fire. Part of Bishopp's men were landed and drove the enemy back into the woods.... Bishopp was everywhere commanding, directing, getting his men off. In the confusion of the moment some of the oars of his own boat were lost, and she drifted helplessly down stream exposed to an ever-increasing fire. Here Bishopp received his death-wound. He was borne back to his quarters, where, in a few days he expired at the early age of twenty-seven. 'Never was any officer, save always the lamented Brock, regretted more than he was.' His remains lie beneath a modest monument erected to his memory by the pious care of his sisters, the Baroness de la Zouche and Mrs. Pechall, in the churchyard at Lundy's Lane."--_Coffin's Chronicles_.

A tablet to his memory is also to be seen at the family burial-place, Parham, Sussex, England, with the following epitaph:--

"His pillow--not of sturdy oak; His shroud--a simple soldier's cloak; His dirge will sound till Time's no more-- Niagara's loud and solemn roar. There Cecil lies--say where the grave More worthy of a Briton brave?"

[Lieutenant-Colonel (afterwards General) Evans, Brigade Major, was one of the most valuable officers of the War of 1812. His cool head, sound judgment, energy, and capability in administration made him a tower of strength to his superiors, all of whom at various times, took an opportunity of testifying to his merits.]

On the 17th August, 1812, the day after the surrender of Detroit, General Brock wrote to him:--

"Dear Evans,--Detroit is ours, and with it the whole Michigan Territory, the American Army Prisoners of War. The force you so skilfully prepared and forwarded at so much risk, met me at "Point au Pins" in high spirits and most effective state. Your thought of clothing the militia in the 41st cast-off clothing proved a most happy one, it having more than doubled our own regular force in the enemy's eye. I am not without anxiety about the Niagara with your scanty means for its defence, notwithstanding my confidence in your vigilance and admirable address in keeping the enemy so long in ignorance of my absence and movements, etc. (Signed) I. BROCK."

There is no need here to allude to the events of the 13th October, 1812, at Fort George, since they are given in Lieut.-Col. Evans' own account of that day, to be found at Appendix No. 1, and show that his Generals had good reason for the esteem in which they held him. Suffice it to say that in the despatches of General Sheaffe from Queenstown; of General Vincent from Burlington Heights; of Deputy Adjutant-General Harvey, Burlington Heights, with reference to the successful attack on Forty-mile Creek by a wing of the 8th or King's Regiment under Lieut-Col. Evans; of General Riall, after Chippawa, Fort Erie, and Lundy's Lane; and of General Drummond, after Lundy's Lane, Lieut.-Col. Evans is always mentioned with special approbation. And the same feeling is evident in the public prints of the day, notably the London _Gazette_, the official organ, as well as in histories of the war.

Previous to his removal to Canada with his regiment, Lieut.-Col. Evans had been officially connected with the Government of Gibraltar in 1802, at the time that the Duke of Kent, as Governor, was trying to introduce some much-needed reforms, by doing which he brought a hornet's nest about his ears. In this affair the Royal Duke was ably backed by his subordinate, and in 1826, when Lieut.-Col. Evans was applying for a staff situation in Canada, his Royal Highness gratefully supported his request.

Brigade-Major Evans' local rank throughout the War of 1812 was that of Lieutenant-Colonel.

General Evans was an Englishman of Welsh ancestry. He married a daughter of Mr. Chief Justice Ogden, of Three Rivers, and after occupying several important appointments, returned to Canada, dying in Quebec in February, 1863, and was buried with military honours. His body was afterwards removed to Three Rivers, and lies by the side of his wife.

Major R. J. Evans, now resident in Toronto, to whom I am indebted for the above particulars, as also for the valuable paper to be found elsewhere, is a son of General Evans.

APPENDIX NO. 4.

Guests from the 'Royal' stroll frequently to the grassy ramparts of old Fort George, whose irregular outlines are still to be traced in the open plains which now surround it. Here landed in 1783-84, ten thousand United Empire Loyalists who, to keep inviolate their oaths of allegiance to the King, quitted their freeholds and positions of trust and honour in the States to begin life anew in the unbroken wilds of Upper Canada.

"History has made us somewhat familiar with the settlement of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick by the expatriated Loyalists. Little has been written of the sufferings and privations endured by 'the makers' of Upper Canada.

"With the present revival of interest in American history, it is singular that writers do not awaken a curiosity about the Loyalists of the Revolution. Students and specialists who have investigated the story of a flight, equalled only by that of the Huguenots after the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, have been led to admire the spirit of unselfish patriotism which led over one hundred thousand fugitives to self-exile. While the Pilgrim Fathers came to America leisurely, bringing their household goods and their charters with them, the United Empire Loyalists, it has been well said, 'bleeding with the wounds of seven years of war, left ungathered the crops of their rich farms on the Mohawk and in New Jersey, and, stripped of every earthly possession, braved the terrors of the unbroken wilderness from the Mohawk to Lake Ontario.'"--_Jane Meade Welsh, in Harper's New Monthly for August_, 1887.

"1812--like the characters on the labarum of Constantine--is a sign of solemn import to the people of Canada. It carries with it the virtue of an incantation. Like the magic numerals of the Arabian sage, these words, in their utterance, quicken the pulse, and vibrate through the frame, summoning from the pregnant past memories of suffering and endurance and of honourable exertion. They are inscribed on the banner and stamped on the hearts of the Canadian people--a watchword rather than a war cry. With these words upon his lips, the loyal Canadian, as a vigilant sentinel, locks forth into the gloom, ready with his challenge, hopeful for a friendly response but prepared for any other. The people of Canada are proud of the men, and of the deeds, and of the recollections of those days. They feel that the War of 1812 is an episode in the story of a young people, glorious, in itself and full of promise. They believe that the infant which, in its very cradle, could strangle invasion, struggle and endure bravely and without repining, is capable of a nobler development, if God wills further trial."--_Coffin's Chronicles of the War, Chapter I., preamble_.

APPENDIX NO. 5.

[Mr. Le Moine, in "Quebec Past and Present," states that slavery was finally abolished in Canada in 1803.] "Near Fort George, less than a century ago, stood the first Parliament House of Upper Canada--a building rude in comparison with the massive pile, the Bishop's Palace, used for a similar purpose at Quebec--but memorable for one at least of the many liberal laws its homespun representatives enacted. Here, seventy years before President Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation, the first United Empire Loyalist Parliament, like the embattled farmers at Concord, 'fired a shot heard round the world.' For one of the first measures of the exiled patricians was to pass an act forbidding slavery. Few readers know that at Newark--now Niagara, Ontario--was enacted that law by which Canada became, not only the first country in the world to abolish slavery, but as such, a safe refuge for the fugitive slaves from the Southern States."--_Jane Meade Welsh, in Harper's New Monthly, August_, 1887.

APPENDIX NO. 6.

[The Twenty-fourth or Second Warwickshire Regiment, now the South Wales Borderers, is of ancient and gallant fame. On its colours are inscribed "Egypt," "Cape of Good Hope," "Talavera," "Fuentes d'Onor," "Salamanca," "Vittoria," "Pyrenees," "Nivelle," "Orthes," "Peninsula"--a goodly show.]

To us, perhaps, the claims of the Regiment upon our admiration are eclipsed by those upon our pity when we remember the terrible disaster of Isandula in 1879, when six companies of the Regiment were cut to pieces, and as it was at first feared, the colours lost. But it was not so; several companies of the 1st Battalion had fought in the victorious affair of Rorke's Drift the day before, and "Lieutenant Bromhead" says the _Daily News_ of Feb. 21, 1879: "1st Battalion, 24th Regiment, and Lieutenant Chard, R.E., left in charge of the Drift with a company of the 24th Regiment, first received intimation of the disaster [at Isandula] from fugitives making for the Drift. Lieutenant Coghill with others rode away to communicate with Helgmakaar, and were killed by Zulus in crossing the river."

With Lieutenant Coghill was Lieutenant Melville carrying the colours. The company holding the Drift was annihilated by the on-rushing savages, and no tidings of the colours could be gained until some days after when, behind a mound, were found the bodies of the two brave Lieutenants, one of whom grasped the pole with hands stiffened in death and around the other the precious flag was wound, "safe on the heart of a soldier."

The following touching lines will be welcome to the lover of noble deeds; it is to be regretted that the name of the poet cannot also be given:--

THE LOST COLOURS.

Who said we had lost the Colours? Who carried the tale away. And whispered it low in England, With the deeds of that awful day? The story was washed, they tell us, Freed from a touch of shame-- Washed in the blood of those who died. Told in their sacred name.

But they said we had lost the Colours, And the Colours were safe, you see; While the story was told in England, Over the restless sea. They had not the heart to blame us. When they knew what the day had cost; But we felt the shame of the silence laid On the Colours they thought were lost.

And now to its farthest limit They will listen and hear our cry; How could the Colours be lost, I say, While one was left to die? Safe on the heart of a soldier, Where else could the Colours be! I do not say they were found again, For they never were lost, you see.

Safe on the heart of a soldier, Knotted close to his side, Proudly lie on the quiet breast, Washed in the crimson tide! For the heart is silent forever, Stirred by no flitting breath, And the Colours he saved are a fitting shroud, And meet for a soldier's death.

What more would they know in England? The Colours were lost, they said; And all the time they were safe, of course, Though the soldier himself was dead. The band was stiff, and the heart was cold And feeble the stalwart limb; But he was one of the Twenty-fourth, So the Colours were safe with him.

The following which appeared in the Toronto _World_, Saturday, July 16, 1887, will also be found of interest to those whose sympathies have been awakened by the poem:

"NO LONGER THE TWENTY-FOURTH."

_How the Heroes of Isandklwana came to be called South Wales Borderers_.

"In the London _Graphic_ there have appeared lately several good articles headed 'Types of the British Army,' with excellent full-sheet coloured cuts, by eminent artists, of men in marching order or otherwise belonging to the corps on which the article is written. The last one is in the _Graphic_ of April 30, being the fourth to appear, and the picture represents a soldier of the gallant 24th Regiment. Much has been said by old officers and soldiers in the press relative to the abolition of the time-honoured numbers of the old corps, and now this splendid old regiment is no longer the 24th, but since 1881 is called the 'South Wales Borderers.' And not only did the historical old number disappear from the Army List, according to the new system, but they lost their green facings, and now wear the white, which all regiments, English and Welsh, according to the territorial system, have to wear. The Irish wear green, the Scotch yellow, and all Royal regiments wear blue. The Artillery and 60th Rifles have red facings, and the Rifle Brigade black. Corps on the line now go by territorial titles. First and second battalions and many old regiments are joined to other old corps which formerly had nothing whatever to do with the county or province from which they now derive their title." In connection with this a former captain in the 46th writes to the Montreal _Witness_ as follows:

"It may be interesting to many to know the reason why regiments now bear their new titles; and, as the writer was intimately acquainted with the 24th before the fearful calamity at Isandhlwana--where they were annihilated in 1879 by the Zulus--and was stationed with them in Brecon, South Wales, he can give the rather curious origin of their present title.

"Some time before the Zulu campaign, there were many sweeping changes made in the army, amongst them being the abolition of numbers, and an order was issued that all members of militia, yeomanry and volunteers at home should have their adjutants appointed from officers serving on full pay with the regiments of cavalry or infantry, and that the artillery, militia and volunteers, should have their adjutants from the Royal Artillery or Marine Artillery; the appointment to last for five years, and at the expiration of that time the officer to return to his corps, and another one to succeed him. The writer was at that time adjutant of the 46th Regiment, and the first to be thus appointed to the Royal Brecon Rifles, South Wales--a small corps of only four companies. There was another smaller corps of only two companies in the adjoining county, Radnorshire, and, perhaps for economy's sake, it was ordered that both of these corps should be made one regiment. Each wanted to retain its old militia designation, but it was decided by the officers to give them a totally new one, and they were christened the 'South Wales Borderers.'

"Brecon was made a depot centre, and the 24th Regiment were to recruit and have their depots there. Being then without a title they took that of the local militia, and are, therefore, now the '1st and 2nd Battalions South Wales Borderers.' But they will always be known as the time-honoured 24th, who lost one colonel, one major, four captains, fourteen lieutenants and seven entire companies, including band, buglers and drummer boys, at Isandhlwana. Lieutenants Melville and Coghill, on that occasion, seeing that all was lost, attempted to save the colours. Melville was first hit, and Coghill turned back to share his fate. The colours were afterwards found in the bed of the Buffalo River, and when brought home Her Majesty tied a small wreath of immortelles on the staff head at Osborn. They are still in the possession of the regiment, and the wreath presented by Her Majesty is preserved in a handsome hermetically-sealed oak box, mounted in silver."

APPENDIX NO. 7.

[In his "La Litterature au Canada Francais" M. Bender says of M. L. Pamphile Le May:]

"Le May sings in a clear and tender voice, reminding one of Alfred de Vigny, and approaching the elegance and polish of that poet.... In words of melody he celebrates the beauties of rural life and scenery. He is touching, pleasing and sympathetic. He knows his subject well; he has seen it, he has felt it, he has loved it; indeed he yields too much to inspiration, and does not sufficiently finish his verse, nor does he fully develop his idea so as to reap all its wealth.... His creations evince originality and beauty of form." In his preface to "Essais Poetiques," published 1865, M. Leon P. Le May tells his readers that his friends discouraged him in his worship of the Muse; they said verse-making did not pay, that it cost a man too much to devote himself to an art so little esteemed. But he sang nevertheless, and Canadian literature in the French language is the richer by much that is sweet, tender, beautiful and inspiring. We ought to thank M. Le May for being wiser than his advisers; and such of us as have not yet considered Canadian Literature worthy of especial regard would do well to hunt up the numerous volumes that lie all but unknown upon booksellers' shelves, and convince themselves that there is a field of intellectual enjoyment open to them of which they may be justly proud to be the heirs.