Among the records that have come down to the author from Roger Conant, and along with fragmentary papers left by him, by Levi Annis, David Annis, and Moode Farewell, various scraps of songs of the time 1812 to 1815 are garnered. Perhaps the song of the greatest merit and widest celebrity was “The Noble Lads of Canada,” the beginning of which was:
“Oh, now the time has come, my boys, to cross the Yankee line,
We remember they were rebels once, and conquered old Burgoyne;
We’ll subdue those mighty democrats, and pull their dwellings down,
And we’ll have the States inhabited with subjects of the Crown.”
It is just as well for the present generation to know this jingle, absurd as it may be. There were many verses in it, but all much to the same tenor, and while they pleased Canadians who sang the song, they were certainly harmless, and to-day we can afford to laugh at them. It is so very ridiculous to think of our handful of men going over to the United States and “pulling their dwellings down.” Our defence at home was quite another matter, but we are proud of it nevertheless. Human nature is much the same here as elsewhere, and was also in 1812-15. Thus would the author illustrate how he applies the inference; there were over a half of the inhabitants who came directly from the British Isles, or were descended from those who came. The greater part of the settlers were poor. Generally the U. E. Loyalists and their descendants were fairly well-to-do. If not well-to-do they were far better off than the others. Consequently some mean-spirited among the settlers from Britain or their descendants, who were so poor, would depreciate the U. E. Loyalists if possible. Roger Conant said that one envious neighbor set the Indians upon him, during a lull in the war, while he was at home, by telling them he was a Yankee, and that they might rob him if they chose. For the object of plunder, they came upon him because he had an abundance of stock, the best in the land, as well as goods of various sorts for Indian fur trading, while his money, as we have seen, was safely banked in a pine log in Scarborough. One night there came to his home in Darlington, in the year 1812, a single Indian who asked to rest before the open fire for the night. Permission was given, and he squatted before the blazing wood fire of logs. On watching him closely, a knife was seen to be up his sleeve of buckskin, but not a word was spoken of the discovery. Shortly another Indian came in and squatted beside the first on the floor, and in utter silence. Now came a third Indian, who, in his turn, crouched with the two former ones.
No doubt now remained in Roger Conant’s mind as to their purpose, and he roused himself to the occasion. They meant robbery, and murder, if necessary, to accomplish it. An axe at hand being always ready, he seized it, and drew back to the rifle hanging upon the wall, never absent therefrom unless in actual use. His family he sent out to the nearest neighbors, a mile away, along the lake shore.
“None of you stir. If you do, I’ll kill the first one who gets up. Stay just where you are until daylight.”
And now a squaw came in and sat beside the three crouching bucks, and cried softly. Very generally Indian squaws’ voices are soft, and naturally their crying would be soft, as was this squaw’s. Entreating with her crying, she began to beg for the release of the Indians, assuring the vigilant custodian “that they no longer meditated injury, nor theft, but would go away if they could be released.”
In this manner, with their nerves at high tension, the night passed, and not until the light of the next day did the guard dare to release his Indian prisoners. Then, one by one only, he allowed them to walk out of doors. It is very probable that this was an extreme case, but it occurred just as narrated. Not again during the war was Roger Conant molested by the Indians.
Not yet had the first year of the war (1812) dragged its slow length along. About the Niagara River the fighting had been most active at all points. Rumors of the clash of arms came from the West to those in central Upper Canada. General Hull thought himself secure at Detroit with a broad and deep river rolling between him and his opponents in Canada. Neither
FAREWELL’S TAVERN, NEAR OSHAWA, AS IT APPEARS TO-DAY.