Part 11 (1/2)
”It's that same I would if I could,” replied the bewildered Irishman, ”but I can't walk on wather, and this ice-slush isn't much betther.” ”Unless you answer, I'll fire,” shouted the sentry, to whom Mickey's maunderings, half drowned by the cras.h.i.+ng ice and gusty wind, were unintelligible.
”Au' that same is the very thing I want, for it's starved wid the cowld I am,” said the s.h.i.+vering creature, who with characteristic ingenuity had failed to apprehend the meaning of the menace addressed to him. But a sudden flash and the dull thud of a bullet against the ice beside him interpreted to his sluggish brain the danger in which he stood.
”The saints be betune us an' harm,” he exclaimed, devoutly crossing himself. ”Oh, sure ye won't murder a body in cowld blood who's kilt entirely already. It's half drownded and froze I am, without being riddled like a cullender wid your bullets as well.”
”Why, Mickey O'Brian!” exclaimed the astonished soldier, who had by the gun-flash recognized the familiar features of a quondam friend; ”why on earth didn't you tell your name, man? I might have killed you as dead as a door-nail.”
”An' a purty thrickit 'ud be for ye, too, Tommy Daily. It's not ashamed of my name I am, an' if I'd know'd it was you, I'd tould ye before.
But help us out of this an' I'll bear ye no malice whativer.”
The guard had turned out at the report of the gun, and getting such planks as were available laid them on the floating ice; but still they could not reach the boat. Tommy Daily with fertile ingenuity tying some twine to his ramrod fired it over the skiff, when it was easy to send out a strong fisherman's line, which Mick tied to the thwarts, and a dozen strong arms drew the boat ash.o.r.e. [Footnote: The present writer witnessed the rescue of a s.h.i.+pwrecked crew, in the manner here described, near this very spot.]
The benumbed form of Mary was borne to the guard-room, and Ensign Roberts, the officer of the night, immediately sent for.
”Why, Miss Lawson!” he exclaimed with astonishment, ”to what can we owe your presence at such a time and place as this?”
”To the inhumanity of your commander, and to my desire to rescue an innocent people from its consequences.”
”I regret, Miss Lawson, that my military duty prevents my permitting you to carry out your generous purpose. You will be entertained hero as comfortably as our rude accommodation will allow till the river clears, when you will be sent safely home.”
”Is this your generosity to a fallen foe, Mr. Roberts?” she exclaimed; but, too proud to ask a favour from a discarded suitor, she relapsed into haughty silence.
But Colonel McClure was not without plain-spoken remonstrance against his contemplated act of inhumanity. In the prosecution of his spiritual functions Neville Trueman had free access to the people of the town of Niagara, many of whom were members, of his church or congregation. Among these a large number of American soldiers were billeted, and very burdensome and unwelcome guests they were. From the unusual commotion and covert threats and hints dropped by the soldiers on the eve of the evacuation, Trueman apprehended some serious disaster to the towns-people. With the prompt energy by which he was characterized, he resolved to proceed to head-quarters and to intercede for the devoted town. He was received by Colonel McClure with a cold and repellent dignity, and obtained only evasive answers. As he was about to leave the presence of that officer, the Colonel said in a constrained manner,--
”Mr. Trueman, I respect your calling, and respect your character; I therefore advise you if you have any personal effects in the town to secure them at once, or I will not be answerable for the results.”
”I have only a few books and clothes,” said Neville, ”but there are families here who have much at stake. Surely no evil can be intended those innocent and non-combatant people.”
”There exist reasons of military necessity which I cannot expect you to appreciate,” said the Colonel, stiffly.
”There are no reasons that can justify inhumanity,” replied Neville, stoutly,” and inhumanity of the gravest character it would be to injure the persons or the property of these defenceless people.”
The gallant Colonel seemed rather to wince under these words, but, as if anxious to exculpate himself, he replied, ”An officer has no option in carrying out the instructions received from the military authorities.”
”That will not remove from you, sir, the responsibility of the act, if, as I infer, the wanton destruction of this town is intended,” replied Neville, with significant emphasis. ”I make bold to affirm that the act will be as unwise as it will be cruel.
It will provoke bitter retaliation. It will tenfold intensify hostile feeling. I know these people. I have travelled largely through this province, and mingled with all cla.s.ses. They are intensely loyal to their sovereign. They would die rather than forswear their allegiance. They will fight to the last man and last gun before they will yield. If wanton outrage be inflicted on this frontier, I predict that fire and sword shall visit your cities, and a heritage of hatred shall be bequeathed to posterity, that all good men, for all time, will deplore.”
”Young man, I admire your zeal, although I may not appreciate your sympathy for a country which I understand is not your own,”
answered the officer, haughtily. ”I am, however, responsible for my acts not to you, but to the War Department at Was.h.i.+ngton. This interview is fruitless. I see no advantage to be gained by prolonging it.”
”Sir,” said Neville, solemnly, as he rose to leave, ”you are responsible to a higher tribunal than that at Was.h.i.+ngton. I have not learned to limit my sympathies and my instincts of humanity by a boundary line. You are a scholar, sir, and perhaps you remember the words of the Latin poet: 'h.o.m.o sum; humani nihil a me alien um puto.' I have the honour to wish you good day,” and he bowed himself out.
As he returned to the town he beheld soldiers going from house to house warning the people to turn out and remove their property, and proceeding, with inhuman alacrity, to set the buildings on fire. Then might be seen the women--most of the men were away with the troops--hastily gathering together their own and their children's clothing and a few treasured heirlooms, and with tears and bitter lamentation leaving their sheltering roof, going forth like the patriarch, not knowing whither they went The frost had set in early and severe. The snow lay deep upon the ground. Yet at thirty minutes' warning, of a hundred and fifty houses in Niagara, all were fired save one. There was scarce time to rescue the nursling babe, and the aged and infirm, from the doomed dwellings.
The wife of Counsellor d.i.c.kson lay on a sick bed. Her husband was a prisoner on the American side of the river. The unfortunate lady ”was carried, bed and all, and placed in the snow before her own door, where, s.h.i.+vering with cold, she beheld her house and all that was in it consumed to ashes.”[Footnote: Jaines. Quoted by Auchinleck.] Of the valuable library, which had cost between five and six hundred pounds sterling, scarcely a book escaped.
Late into the night burned the fires, reddening the midnight heavens with the lurid flames of comfortable homesteads, well- filled barns and is stacks of grain. Herds of affrighted cattle rushed wildly over the adjacent meadows, the kine lowing piteously with distended udders for the accustomed hands of their milkers at eventide. Of the hundred and fifty dwellings fired, only two or three escaped by accident, one of which still remains; and four hundred women and children were left to wander in the snow or seek the temporary shelter of some remote farm-house or Indian wigwam in the woods. Some wandered for days in the adjacent dismal ”Black Swamp,” feeding on frost-bitten cranberries, or on a casual rabbit or ground-hog.
But a swift avenging followed the dastardly outrage. In two days the British re-occupied the site of the smouldering town, now but a waste; of blackened embers, which the Americans had, evacuated-- horse, foot, and artillery--not a hoof being left behind. So precipitate had been their retreat, however, that a large quant.i.ty of stores, together with the barracks and tents, were left, which fell into the hands of the British. As the old red-cross flag was run again on the flag-staff of Fort George, an exultant cheer went up to heaven, and not a few eyes of those hardy militiamen were filled with tears. Their homes were but heaps of ashes, it was true; but their country remained; its soil was relieved from the foot of the invader, and their loyal allegiance to their sovereign had been shown by their costly sacrifice.