Roughing It in the Bush

by Susanna Moodie

Left in the most absolute uncertainty as to the real state of public affairs, I could only conjecture what might be the result of this sudden outbreak. Several poor settlers called at the house during the day, on their way down to Peterborough, but they brought with them the most exaggerated accounts. There had been a battle, they said, with the rebels, and the loyalists had been defeated; Toronto was besieged by sixty thousand men, and all the men in the backwoods were ordered to march instantly to the relief of the city.

In the evening, I received a note from Emilia, who was at Peterborough, in which she informed me that my husband had borrowed a horse of Mr. S——, and had joined a large party of two hundred volunteers, who had left that morning for Toronto; that there had been a battle with the insurgents; that Colonel Moodie had been killed, and the rebels had retreated; and that she hoped my husband would return in a few days.

The honest backwoodsman, perfectly ignorant of the abuses that had led to the present position of things, regarded the rebels as a set of monsters, for whom no punishment was too severe, and obeyed the call to arms with enthusiasm. The leader of the insurgents must have been astonished at the rapidity with which a large force was collected, as if by magic, to repel his designs. A great number of these volunteers were half-pay officers, many of whom had fought in the continental wars with the armies of Napoleon, and would have been found a host in themselves. I must own that my British spirit was fairly aroused, and as I could not aid in subduing the enemies of my beloved country with my arm, I did what little I could to serve the good cause with my pen. It may probably amuse my readers, to give them a few specimens of these loyal staves, which were widely circulated through the colony at the time.

AN ADDRESS TO THE FREEMEN OF CANADA

Canadians! will you join the band—
The factious band—who dare oppose
The regal power of that bless'd land
From whence your boasted freedom flows?
Brave children of a noble race,
Guard well the altar and the hearth;
And never by your deeds disgrace
The British sires who gave you birth.
What though your bones may never lie
Beneath dear Albion's hallow'd sod,
Spurn the base wretch who dare defy,
In arms, his country and his God!
Whose callous bosom cannot feel
That he who acts a traitor's part,
Remorselessly uplifts the steel
To plunge it in a parent's heart.
Canadians! will you see the flag,
Beneath whose folds your fathers bled,
Supplanted by the vilest rag(1)
That ever host to rapine led?
Thou emblem of a tyrant's sway,
Thy triple hues are dyed in gore;
Like his, thy power has pass'd away—
Like his, thy short-lived triumph's o'er.
Ay! Let the trampled despot's fate
Forewarn the rash, misguided band
To sue for mercy, ere too late,
Nor scatter ruin o'er the land.
The baffled traitor, doomed to bear
A people's hate, his colleagues' scorn,
Defeated by his own despair,
Will curse the hour that he was born!
By all the blood for Britain shed
On many a glorious battle-field,
To the free winds her standard spread,
Nor to these base insurgents yield.
With loyal bosoms beating high,
In your good cause securely trust;
“God and Victoria!” be your cry,
And crush the traitors to the dust.

(1) The tri-coloured flag assumed by the rebels.

This outpouring of a national enthusiasm, which I found it impossible to restrain, was followed by

THE OATH OF THE CANADIAN VOLUNTEERS

Huzza for England!—May she claim
Our fond devotion ever;
And, by the glory of her name,
Our brave forefathers' honest fame,
We swear—no foe shall sever
Her children from their parent's side;
Though parted by the wave,
In weal or woe, whate'er betide,
We swear to die, or save
Her honour from the rebel band
Whose crimes pollute our injured land!
Let the foe come—we will not shrink
To meet them if they dare;
Well must they fight, ere rashly think
To rend apart one sacred link
That binds our country fair
To that dear isle, from whence we sprung;
Which gave our fathers birth;
Whose glorious deeds her bards have sung;
The unrivall'd of the earth.
The highest privilege we claim,
To own her sway—to bear her name.
Then, courage, loyal volunteers!
God will defend the right;
That thought will banish slavish fears,
That blessed consciousness still cheers
The soldier in the fight.
The stars for us shall never burn,
The stripes may frighten slaves,
The Briton's eye will proudly turn
Where Britain's standard waves.
Beneath its folds, if Heaven requires,
We'll die, as died of old our sires!

In a week, Moodie returned. So many volunteers had poured into Toronto that the number of friends was likely to prove as disastrous as that of enemies, on account of the want of supplies to maintain them all. The companies from the back townships had been remanded, and I received with delight my own again. But this re-union did not last long. Several regiments of militia were formed to defend the colony, and to my husband was given the rank of captain in one of those then stationed in Toronto.