A day or two prior to the battle of Queenstown, Major-General Brock wrote copious instructions for the guidance of the officers commanding at the different posts on the Niagara river, in the event of their being attacked, and he explained the probable points which he thought the enemy would select for accomplishing his descent. He evidently entertained a high opinion of the discipline and prowess of the British soldier, as in these instructions he observed: "If we weigh well the character of our enemy, we shall find him more disposed to brave the impediments of nature, when they afford him a probability of accomplishing his end by surprise, in preference to the certainty of encountering British troops ready formed for his reception." The original draft of these instructions in the general's writing, contains scarcely an erasure or correction.
On the 4th of October, an American spy was sent to the British side, and returned with information that Major-General Brock had proceeded to Detroit with all the force that could be spared from the Niagara frontier. Encouraged by these false news, which perhaps the American general circulated to induce his troops to cross over, every preparation was made for a descent upon Queenstown. On the morning of the 11th, the enemy assembled a force at Lewistown, opposite to Queenstown, with the view of making an immediate attack on the latter, but, through some mismanagement in conducting the boats to the place of embarkation, the attack was delayed. Early on the morning of the 13th, the enemy's troops were again concentrated and embarked in thirteen boats at Lewistown, under cover of a commanding battery of two 18 and two 6-pounders, which, with two field pieces, completely commanded every part of the opposite shore, from which musketry could be effectual in opposing a landing. The only British batteries from which the enemy could be annoyed in the passage were one, mounting an 18-pounder, upon Queenstown Heights, and another, mounting a 24-pound carronade, situate a little below the village. Three of the boats put back, while the remaining ten, with 225 regulars, besides officers, struck the shore a little above the village of Queenstown, and immediately returned for more troops. The British force in Queenstown consisted of the two flank companies of the 49th regiment and the York volunteer militia, amounting in all to about 300 rank and file. Of these about 60, taken from the 49th grenadiers, and Captain Hatt's company of militia, under Captain Dennis,[96] of the 49th, advanced at four o'clock, a.m., with a 3-pounder against the first division of the enemy, under Colonel Van Rensselaer, who had formed his men near the river, and was awaiting the arrival of the next boats. The Americans were driven with some loss behind a steep bank, close to the water's edge, where they were reinforced by a fresh supply of troops, and whence they returned the fire of the British. In the mean time the remainder of the 49th grenadiers and of the militia company joined Captain Dennis; while the 49th light company, under Captain Williams, with Captain Chisholm's company of militia, stationed on the brow of the hill, fired down upon the invaders.
Sir Isaac Brock for some days had suspected this invasion, and the evening preceding it he called his staff together, and gave to each the necessary instructions. Agreeably to his usual custom, he rose before daylight, and hearing the cannonade, awoke Major Glegg and called for his horse, Alfred, which Sir James Craig had presented to him. He then gallopped eagerly from Fort George to the scene of action, and, with his two aides-de-camp, passed up the hill at full gallop in front of the light company, under a heavy fire of artillery and musketry from the American shore. On reaching the 18-pounder battery at the top of the hill, they dismounted and took a view of passing events, which at that moment appeared highly favorable. But in a few minutes a firing was heard, which proceeded from a strong detachment of American regulars under Captain Wool, who had succeeded in gaining the brow of the heights in rear of the battery, by a fisherman's path up the rocks, which, being reported as impassable, was not guarded. Sir Isaac Brock and his aide-de-camps had not even time to remount, but were obliged to retire precipitately with the twelve men stationed in the battery, which was quickly occupied by the enemy. Captain Wool having sent forward about 150 regulars, Captain Williams' detachment, of about 100 men, advanced to meet them, personally directed by the general, who, observing the enemy to waver, ordered a charge, which was promptly executed; but as the Americans gave way, the result was not equal to his expectations. Captain Wool admits that he reinforced his regulars, "notwithstanding which the whole were driven to the edge of the bank."[97] Here some of the American officers were on the point of hoisting a white flag, with an intention to surrender, when Captain Wool tore it off, and reanimated his dispirited troops. They now opened a heavy fire of musketry; and conspicuous from his dress, his height, and the enthusiasm with which he animated his little band, the British commander was soon singled out, and he fell about an hour after his arrival, the fatal bullet entering his right breast and passing through his left side. He had that instant said: "Push on the York volunteers;" and he lived only long enough to request that his fall might not be noticed or prevent the advance of his brave troops, adding a wish, which could not be distinctly understood, that some token of remembrance should be transmitted to his sister. He died unmarried, and on the same day a week previously, he had completed his forty-third year. The lifeless corpse was immediately conveyed into a house at Queenstown, where it remained until the afternoon unperceived by the enemy. His provincial aide-de-camp, Lieut.-Colonel M'Donell, of the militia, and the attorney-general of Upper Canada—a fine promising young man—was mortally wounded soon after his chief, and died the next day, at the early age of twenty-five years. Although one bullet had passed through his body, and he was wounded in four places, yet he survived twenty hours; and during a period of excruciating agony, his thoughts and words were constantly occupied with lamentations for his deceased commander and friend. He fell while gallantly charging up the hill with 190 men, chiefly of the York volunteers, by which charge the enemy was compelled to spike the 18-pounder in the battery there.
The flank companies of the 49th having suffered severely, and both their captains being wounded, the disputed ground was lost soon after the death of the general, and the troops retreated in front of Vromont's battery, where they awaited the expected reinforcements. The Americans remained in quiet possession of the heights of Queenstown for some hours, during which they were but partially reinforced, as their militia, who a day or two before were so anxious to invade Canada—having heard from the wounded men sent back what they must expect if they came in contact with the 49th, "the green tigers," as they called them from their green facings—could not now be induced, either by threat or entreaty, to cross the river. Indeed, the flank companies of the 49th, in the excitement arising from the loss of their late beloved colonel, are said to have fought with such animosity throughout the day, as to have fully supported this new title. In the meanwhile, Major-General Sheaffe arrived from Fort George[98] with nearly 400 of the 41st regiment, under Captain Derenzy and about 300 militia; and—after being joined by the remnant of the 49th flank companies and the Indians, and leaving two field pieces with 30 men in front of Queenstown, to prevent its occupation by the Americans—he proceeded by a circuitous route to gain the rear of the heights upon which the enemy was posted. Here he was reinforced by the arrival of the 41st grenadiers and some militia from Chippewa, the whole of the British and Indian force thus assembled rather exceeding 1,000 men, of whom about 600 were regulars. In numbers the Americans were about equal—courage they had, but they wanted the confidence and discipline of British soldiers.
The attack commenced in the afternoon, and after a little firing, the British, setting up a shout which was accompanied by the war-whoop of the Indians, advanced at the double quick or running pace, when the Americans, perceiving the hopelessness of resistance, fled down the hill after a feeble contest. The slaughter was unhappily protracted, because the Indians could not at first be restrained. The Americans, who attempted to escape into the woods, were quickly driven back by the Indians; and many, cut off in their return to the main body, and terrified at the sight of these exasperated warriors, flung themselves wildly over the cliffs, and endeavoured to cling to the bushes which grew upon them; but some, losing their hold, were dashed frightfully on the rocks beneath; while others, who reached the river, perished in their attempts to swim across it. Such, alas! are the dreadful horrors too often arising from human warfare! A flag of truce soon came from the American commander, with the offer of an unconditional surrender, and Brigadier Wadsworth, with upwards of 900 officers and men, were made prisoners. The death of the British general is said to have cost the invaders many a life on that day, which otherwise had been spared. Their loss was 90 killed and about 100 wounded, while that of the British and Indians was 16 killed and 69 wounded. The victory, though easily won, was complete; but it was felt by the conquerors as a poor compensation for the loss of the British chieftain, thus prematurely cut off in the pride of manhood and in the noon-tide of his career; while the sorrow manifested throughout both provinces proved that those who rejoiced in the failure of this second invasion, would gladly have foregone the triumph, if by such means they could have regained him who rendered the heights of Queenstown memorable by his fall.
Joy's bursting shout in whelming grief was drowned,
And Victory's self unwilling audience found;
On every brow the cloud of sadness hung,—
The sounds of triumph died on every tongue!
"The news of the death of this excellent officer," observed the Quebec Gazette, "has been received here as a public calamity. The attendant circumstances of victory scarcely checked the painful sensation. His long residence in this province, and particularly in this place, had made him in habits and good offices almost a citizen; and his frankness, conciliatory disposition, and elevated demeanour, an estimable one. The expressions of regret as general as he was known, and not uttered by friends and acquaintance only, but by every gradation of class, not only by grown persons, but young children, are the test of his worth. Such too is the only eulogium worthy of the good and brave, and the citizens of Quebec have, with solemn emotions, pronounced it on his memory. But at this anxious moment other feelings are excited by his loss. General Brock had acquired the confidence of the inhabitants within his government. He had secured their attachment permanently by his own merits. They were one people animated by one disposition, and this he had gradually wound up to the crisis in which they were placed. Strange as it may seem, it is to be feared that he had become too important to them. The heroic militia of Upper Canada, more particularly, had knit themselves to his person; and it is yet to be ascertained whether the desire to avenge his death can compensate the many embarrassments it will occasion. It is indeed true that the spirit, and even the abilities, of a distinguished man often carry their influence beyond the grave; and the present event furnishes its own example, for it is certain, notwithstanding General Brock was cut off early in the action, that he had already given an impulse to his little army, which contributed to accomplish the victory when he was no more. Let us trust that the recollection of him will become a new bond of union, and that, as he sacrificed himself for a community of patriots, they will find a new motive to exertion in the obligation to secure his ashes from the pestilential dominion of the enemy."
A Montreal newspaper of the day also contained the following observations: "The private letters from Upper Canada, in giving the account of the late victory at Queenstown, are partly taken up with encomiastic lamentations upon the never-to-be-forgotten General Brock, which do honor to the character and talents of the man they deplore. The enemy have nothing to hope from the loss they have inflicted; they have created a hatred which panteth for revenge. Although General Brock may be said to have fallen in the midst of his career, yet his previous services in Upper Canada will be lasting and highly beneficial. When he assumed the government of the province, he found a divided, disaffected, and, of course, a weak people. He has left them united and strong, and the universal sorrow of the province attends his fall. The father, to his children, will make known the mournful story. The veteran, who fought by his side in the heat and burthen of the day of our deliverance, will venerate his name."[99]
And the sentiments of the British government, on the melancholy occasion, were thus expressed in a dispatch from Earl Bathurst, the secretary of state for the colonies, to Sir George Prevost, dated December 8, 1812: "His royal highness the prince regent is fully aware of the severe loss which his majesty's service has experienced in the death of Major-General Sir Isaac Brock. This would have been sufficient to have clouded a victory of much greater importance. His majesty has lost in him not only an able and meritorious officer, but one who, in the exercise of his functions of provisional lieutenant-governor of the province, displayed qualities admirably adapted to awe the disloyal, to reconcile the wavering, and to animate the great mass of the inhabitants against successive attempts of the enemy to invade the province, in the last of which he unhappily fell, too prodigal of that life of which his eminent services had taught us to understand the value."