War was now brooding over Canada—the fratricidal War of 1812. But for the time Quebec was gay. There was hardly a week without a private ball, Tom wrote in February, 1812; and the assemblies, dinners and suppers were innumerable. He chaffs his sister Christine, whose rheumatic pains had apparently become a kind of family joke, and says that, since they are the enemies of high kicking, her inability longer for this pastime "is partly the cause of her sounding a retreat to the peaceful shades and grottoes of Murray Bay." Polly, the other unmarried sister, was more content to be at Murray Bay, with results that led to a family tragedy as we shall see later. Her brother pictures her driving his nag with her carriole through the country; so reckless is she that she is sure to run down some one. "Does she, proud and high, still continue hopping away to the country weddings?" His request that Pope's Works and The Spectator be sent to him seems to indicate a serious turn of mind. He is sending to Murray Bay The Lady of the Lake and The Lay of the Last Minstrel whose middle-aged author was just turning from poetry to win unprecedented success as a writer of fiction. In the spring he goes out shooting for snipe nearly every day; and he sends to Murray Bay for his fishing tackle. When a fellow officer falls ill he sends him down to Murray Bay for a month.
Soon came a more active life. War with the United States was near and Canada was getting ready. In May, 1812, Malcolm Fraser, led to Quebec from Murray Bay and the intervening parishes what militia he could muster. At the same time, he was made a commissioner to administer the oaths of allegiance: in extreme old age the veteran was ready again to do what he could. The Newfoundland regiment, to which Tom belonged, was ordered to the interior. The storm cloud drew near and burst on June 19th, 1812, in the form of a declaration of war by the United States on Great Britain. The Americans intended to pour troops into Upper Canada, but sparsely settled at that time, and quickly to occupy it. The frontier on the Niagara River was the chief danger point and the Newfoundland Regiment was sent up to Lake Ontario to aid in the defence. On July 3rd, 1812, Tom writes from Kingston in Upper Canada. The news has reached him that war has been declared; and already, busy with the task of placing men and supplies where they will be most needed, he has been the length of Lake Ontario in the Royal George; staying two days at York, now Toronto; going thence to Niagara and then sailing back to Kingston. At Kingston there are 1,000 militia and Carleton Island, (where Tom's father had commanded in the War of the American Revolution) has been taken by the British—an inglorious success for its garrison consisted of but three veterans and some women. The adjacent Indians, says the young Captain, "are anxious to be at the Yankees with their Toma-hawks." Altogether some exciting campaigns were in prospect and Tom was glad that his family was "snug at Murray Bay."
There, remote and isolated, they seemed indeed safe—so safe that, to share the security, a general descent of their friends seemed imminent. At Quebec there was, for a time, something like a panic. "Every one here," wrote Mrs. Hale to Miss Nairne "is in a complete state of anxiety and suspense, not at all knowing whether we shall be attacked, or what may become of us. I have just now seen Colonel Fraser, who assures me I shall be welcome at your mother's house, in case we should be obliged to leave Quebec. [He] advised my writing for fear you should have applications from other quarters.... Many ladies are going to England.... My spirits are so depressed that I cannot pretend to amuse you with any anecdotes." Murray Bay offered its hospitality with great heartiness and Mr. Hale wrote, "I believe all Quebec mean to move towards you if necessary, so you must prepare."
Quebec was in a flutter of successive excitements, now certain that it was invulnerable, now fearing an immediate descent of the enemy, and always longing for peace. In England the Orders in Council which provoked the war were now revoked, and Malcolm Fraser wrote that this must soon bring peace in America, especially since New England and New York were against the war. Miss Nairne's friend in Quebec, Judge Bowen[23], wrote to her in November, 1812, announcing the armistice for six months, arranged some time before, and assuring the ladies at Murray Bay that all cause for anxiety was now past,—an illusive hope for the armistice was not ratified by President Madison and the war went on. We get echoes of social jealousies that may now amuse us. Sir James Craig, the late Governor, had repressed sternly the aspirations of the French element and had been specially friendly with the Nairne circle; he was indeed a cousin of the Nairnes' relative by marriage, James Ker. But now with Sir George Prevost as Governor things were changed. Sir George came from Halifax and Quebec society looked with green-eyed jealousy upon his "Halifax people." "They are not the right sort," Judge Bowen wrote to Christine Nairne:
It will be long before we meet a staff like Sir James Craig's gentlemanly men.... The castle affords no delight but to the Halifax people. They are all Gods, the Quebecers all Devils. As for me I have no desire to be deified.... Would you believe it Pierre Bedard [24] could raise his head to take a view of the strange scenes daily occurring here; but it is better he should be spared the Loathsome sight. What it will end in I dare scarcely express.
In these days there was ceaseless anxiety at Murray Bay. "We are all here in a complete state of suspense," wrote Christine Nairne, "... My brother is now in Upper Canada doing duty as a marine officer on board the Royal George. We are in the utmost anxiety about him but on the Almighty we rely for preservation in these horrid times." Echoes came of stirring events. Tom wrote of General Brock's succeeds in capturing Detroit and with it the American General Hull and his whole army. A little later the Detroit garrison was sent to Montreal and Captain Nairne, doing duty on the Royal George, carried General Hull—"the extirpating General" he called him in view of dire threats that Hull had made as to what he should do—with 200 prisoners from Niagara to Kingston and then in batteaux down the River St. Lawrence on the way to Montreal, through whose streets the Canadian militia marched their prisoners to the strains of "Yankee Doodle." Elated with the success against General Hull, Tom now expected to hear any day that the American fort at the mouth of the Niagara River had been taken by General Brock. He heard a much sadder tale. Instead of awaiting attack the Americans became the aggressors and crossed the river into Canada. In a successful attempt to dislodge them from Queenston Heights the gallant Brock was slain. The invaders were driven back; but all Canada mourned for Brock. Mrs. Bowen wrote to Christine Nairne, "I am sure you will have deeply felt the loss of poor General Brock. He was always a great favourite of yours as well as mine. Salter Mountain spoke in the highest terms of him in his sermon last Sunday."
As the war became more grim in character Captain Nairne formed a fixed resolve to see it through to the end. On October 5th, 1812, he writes from Kingston that in response to his former request he had just received notice of having been put on half pay. With this release he might now have retired to the serenity of Murray Bay. But, even though he had not changed his mind, this would have been to turn his back on fighting when men were most needed. So when Captain Wall of the 49th Regiment broke his leg, and was thus rendered unfit for service, with him Nairne effected an exchange. "I could not reconcile myself to the idea of sneaking down to Murray Bay and forsaking my post at the present critical period," he wrote to Fraser. That old soldier was delighted at Tom's spirit and made this note at the foot of the letter which announced this action:
Point Fraser, [Murray Bay], Oct. 23rd, 1812: I do hereby certify that my Godson Captain Thomas Nairne has, as I think, acted as becomes him and very much to my satisfaction—Malcolm ffraser.