He called out more militia, though he had only a few tents and many of the men were drilling without shoes. One hundred Tuscaroras under Chief Brant answered his summons. He divided his augmented Niagara force into four divisions—at Fort Erie 400 men, at Fort Chippewa 300, at Queenston 300, at Fort George 500. Of these, 900 were militia.
The rattle of the matchlock was as familiar as cockcrow. Every man became in fact, if not in deed, a volunteer. If the musket was not strapped to the tail of the plough, it leaned against the snake-fence—loaded. The goose-step, the manual and platoon took the place of the quadrille. Every clearing became a drill-hall, every log cabin an armoury. Many of the militia were crack shots, with all the scouting instincts of the forest ranger. In the barrack-square, in scarlet, white and green, the regulars drilled and went through wondrous evolutions with clock-work precision—fighting machinery with the tenacity of the bull-dog, though lacking the craft of the woods that had taught the volunteer the value of shelter and the wisdom of dwelling on his aim.
Apart, stolid and silent, but interested spectators, lounged the dusky redmen, forever sucking at their pwoighun-ahsin (stone pipes) and making tobacco from the inner bark of red-willow wands, watching and wondering. The foot soldiers carried fire-locks, flints and cartridge boxes. These smooth-bore flint-locks had an effective range of less than 100 yards, and could be discharged only once a minute. Very different to the modern magazine rifle, which can discharge twenty-five shots in a minute and kill at 4,200 yards, while within 2,000 yards it is accurate and deadly. The mounted men were armed with sabres and ponderous pistols.
Our hero addressed the militia. The enemy, he told them, intended to lay waste the country. "Let them be taught," he said, "that Canadians would never bow their necks to a foreign yoke." As the custodian of their rights, he was trying to preserve all they held dear. He looked to them to repel the invaders.
Brock was placed in a most peculiar position, for while the passive Prevost was still instructing him—nearly three weeks after the declaration of war—"to take no offensive measures, as none would be taken by the United States Government," General Hull, with a force of 2,500 tried soldiers, was on his way from Ohio through the Michigan forests to occupy Detroit and invade Canada. Hull reached Detroit, and four days later, with his entire command, crossed the river and occupied Sandwich. But the trip was attended with serious mishap to his army, for Lieutenant Roulette, of the British sloop Hunter—a brother of the famous fur-trader—in a small batteau, with only six men, captured the United States packet Cayuga, with a detachment of five officers and thirty-three soldiers, as she was coming up the river. The Cayuga's treasure consisted not only of valuable stores and baggage, but Hull's official correspondence with the United States Secretary of War. The contents of this decided Brock, though he had no idea Hull's army was so strong, to attempt the reduction of Fort Detroit without a moment's delay.
The very hour he knew that war was declared he had notified the officer at St. Joseph. Our hero, whose root idea of a soldier's craft was "secrecy in conception and vigour in execution," had no taste for Prevost's mad doctrine that the aggressed had to await the convenience of the aggressor. Brock had been taught to regard tolerance in war as an "evil of the first magnitude," and so had already instructed the commander at St. Joseph that if war was proclaimed he was to attack Mackinaw at once, but if attacked, "defend your post to the last." Prevost at the same time had ordered this officer "in case of necessity to effect his own retreat," never dreaming he would dare attack Mackinaw. What a contrast the despatches of these two men present! The one full of confidence, fight and resistance, the other shrinking from action and suggesting retreat. Brock's despatch was of later date and more palatable to the fighter at St. Joseph. He started at once for Mackinaw, fifty-five miles distant, with 45 of the 10th Royal veterans, 180 Canadians, many of whom were traders and voyageurs, and convoyed by the brig Caledonia, owned by the North-West Fur Company.
He landed before daybreak. By noon of that day the Union Jack was floating above the basalt cliffs of the Gibraltar of the north, and also over two of the enemy's vessels laden with furs. It is not on record that Captain Roberts was recommended by General Sir George Prevost for promotion! The Indians at Amherstburg were now ready to support the British. Foremost among these was the great Shawanese warrior, Tecumseh.
General Hull, having meantime billeted himself in Colonel Baby's big brick house at Sandwich, issued a proclamation to the "inhabitants of Canada." As a sample of egotism, bluff and bombast it stands unrivalled. He told the inhabitants of Canada that he was in possession of their country, that an ocean and wilderness isolated them from England, whose tyranny he knew they felt. His grand army was ready to release them from oppression. They must choose between liberty and security, as offered by the United States, and war and annihilation, the penalty of refusal. He also threatened instant destruction to any Canadian found fighting by the side of an Indian, though General Dearborn, in command of the United States forces at Niagara, had been authorized by the United States Secretary of War "to organize the warriors of the Seneca Indians" for active service against Canada.
The United States Secretary of War wrote to Hull, saying his action respecting Canadian Indians "met with the approval of the Government." Evidently ashamed, upon reflection, of Hull's threat, that same Government later instructed its commissioners at the Treaty of Ghent, when peace was restored, "to disown and disavow" their former Indian policy.
Hull's extraordinary production, which proved a boomerang, was really the work of Colonel Lewis Cass, his Chief of Staff; but while Hull and Cass were "unloading their rhetoric at Sandwich," our hero was "loading his guns at Mackinaw."