October 1812

6 October 1812

Dear Constance,

Today is General Isaac Brock’s birthday, and tomorrow is mine. I am very low-spirited, however, because no one has said anything about it. Perhaps they are meaning to surprise me. Perhaps Papa remembered the horse and is sending it tomorrow. But it is more than two weeks since we have heard from him at all.

Papa does not even know how much I have grown. He and Hamilton are probably too busy fighting to remember my birthday. I wonder if anyone has remembered General Brock’s?

7 October 1812

Dear Constance,

I am trying to write calmly, to still my fear. Mama has left us. Early this morning James’s brother, Peter, arrived in a wagon from Burlington. I have only met him once before, at Caroline and James’s wedding. He is thirteen. He had driven all night to tell us that Caroline had the baby early and is gravely ill. Peter’s mother is taking care of her but Caroline keeps asking for Mama and she may not live.

Peter had come to take Mama back to Burlington. It is a risk with the war on, but one she must take. She hurriedly packed and, after she and Peter had had breakfast, they left.

The baby is small but healthy — a girl, as yet unnamed. My niece! My happiness about that is cancelled by my misery about Caroline. How I wish I had loved her better! I keep thinking of how kind she used to be to me and I am once more ashamed that I played such a childish trick on her. I have not been a good sister to her and now I may lose her.

Before we retired tonight Maria and I knelt at the side of the bed and prayed a long time for Caroline. Now Maria is asleep but I got up again to write in here. Please God, make her better. Please God, keep Mama and Peter safe on their journey. Please God, help me to be brave. Mama told me to be brave when she left, but I do not know how much more courage I can squeeze out of myself. And there is so much to pray for, I do not know how God has time to listen to it all.

8 October 1812

Dear Constance,

I woke up this morning and remembered that yesterday I had turned twelve. I had completely forgotten and so, of course, had everyone else.

We have been wretched all day, going about our tasks dully and trying not to weep or worry. It is strange and frightening to be here with only Maria and Tabitha. This evening we huddled in the parlour and read the Bible. A wolf howled and we clutched each other with fear.

I can hear him again now. Perhaps it is the wolf I saw in the forest.

My tears are blotching the ink, so I will stop this and go to bed.

9 October 1812

Dear Constance,

A storm is raging outside. The wind is howling so much I fear the roof will come off. But we have a good fire going and Tabitha taught us a lively song, “King Arthur’s Servants,” which we sang as loud as we could against the wind and the driving rain.

I could not sing much, however, because I have a toothache. Tabitha has given me some feverfew tea to soothe it.

11 October 1812
Niagara

Dear Constance,

Yes, I am in Niagara! So much has happened that I can scarcely write fast enough to set it all down.

After a night of almost no sleep my toothache was much worse. My jaw felt as though it had a hot spike nailed through it. Tabitha said the tooth must be pulled. Maria held my head while Tabitha gripped with the pliers.

The harder she tugged the louder I screamed. Alas, she broke the crown! We were all crying as they gave me a dose of brandy.

As I lay moaning in bed Papa arrived! He smoothed my hair as he told us his news. Caroline is better! One of his men had been in Burlington and brought him the message. Papa had come home to tell us, knowing we were alone and how worried we would be. He said Mama would stay with Caroline until she was stronger, but she is definitely out of danger.

Papa now turned to the problem of what to do about me. He decided to take me to Niagara, so that the army surgeon could extract my tooth. As I watched Maria pack my small bag I managed to ask her to include this journal, a pen and a bottle of my beet ink.

We left immediately. Papa wrapped me in a blanket and held me in front of him as we galloped away. Mud flew in our faces and the jarring motion made me almost faint from pain. But Papa kept murmuring soothing words to me and I felt safe in his arms.

He rode straight to Fort George. Doctor Thorn gave me some more brandy and cut into my gum to twist out the tooth. I could hear it grinding against the bone and I almost gagged as hot blood gushed into my mouth. I gripped Papa’s hand but still had to scream, splattering blood over both of us. I have never felt such pain and cannot bear to tell you any more about the dreadful experience, which I hope I will never have to repeat.

Papa then took me to his house, where I was put to bed. I slept until after dark. Then Hannah bathed me in front of the kitchen fire. What a sight I was, covered in blood and mud! Hannah was much less gruff than usual. She even called me a “poor little mite.” I managed to sip a little soup and went back to sleep.

This morning I feel much better, although my jaw is very sore. Papa and Hamilton came into my room to kiss me before they left for the fort. How glad I was to see Hamilton again! I have just eaten a soft-boiled egg.

Later

Dear Constance,

I have spent the morning reading and wandering about the house. For a while I helped Hannah roll out pastry for a meat pie. Then I got bored and sat at the window.

The town is so changed from the last time I was here. Hardly anyone is in the streets. Hannah told me that many of the women and children have been sent away, but that she refused to leave.

I am so sleepy that I think I will have a nap. The bed seems wide without Maria in it — it is the first time I can remember sleeping alone.

Later

I just saw Ellis! He was coming out of General Brock’s house. I knocked on the window and he was so surprised when he saw who it was! I wish he had come to the house to say hello, but he just waved and hurried away. He looked anxious, as usual. I do hope I see him again.

Later

I have not seen Papa and Hamilton all day. Hannah went to bed early and made me go also, but I could not sleep. My mouth was almost free of pain and I had had such a long nap that I was not tired.

I watched at the window to see if I could spot Ellis again. I dozed in my chair, waking up twice because I fell off. First I heard Papa and Hamilton coming in very late. Then, even later, I heard a horse and watched General Brock dismount from Alfred and go into his house. He was shrouded in his cloak — it is raining hard again — and I could not see his face.

I lit a candle to write in here. I have just taken one more look out the window. The town is deathly quiet, except for the rain pounding down. It feels as if the world is holding its breath, as if something is about to happen.

October 13
Very Early

Dear Constance,

My fingers are quivering and you will probably not be able to read this shaky writing. Still, I must tell you what I have just done — perhaps the most important thing I have ever done in my life.

I was sleeping deeply and dreaming that I was being attacked by giant mosquitoes that buzzed and clattered around me. I woke up to realize that the clattering was something being thrown against my window. I ran over to it and Ellis was below, holding pebbles. It was not even quite dawn yet.

“Susanna!” he called, when I opened the window a crack. “Please come!” He ran back to his house.

I hesitated. What madness was this? It was still dark, the wind was howling and the rain thrashing. My bed was so warm. But I could not resist the desperate entreaty in Ellis’s voice. I wrapped a shawl around my nightdress and put on my shoes. Then I slipped out of the house and knocked on General Brock’s door, my heart pounding.

Ellis let me in and pulled me by the hand into the kitchen. He was very agitated, his eyes burning, his fiery hair in tufts, and his skin drained of colour.

General Brock was in the kitchen, putting on his uniform coat. Porter was handing him a cup of coffee.

Suddenly I was terrified. What was I doing here, disturbing this great man? I tried to leave before he noticed me, but he looked up and smiled.

The General asked me quietly what I was doing in Niagara — and in his house. I apologized, stuttering an explanation about my tooth. I said Ellis had asked me to come over but I did not know why.

Ellis looked at the floor. “I brought Susanna here to say goodbye,” he mumbled.

The General was pulling on his boots. He gave Ellis a piercing look, then called him a strange boy. He is strange, I thought — why was it important that I say goodbye?

It was hard to believe General Brock was talking to us so calmly while obviously in a hurry to leave. I dared to ask where he was going. He said to Queenston, where they had begun fighting. “Can you not hear the guns?” he asked us.

I listened and, sure enough, there was a distant boom, muffled by the wind and rain. The sound made me shiver. General Brock told us he had not slept all night. “He who guards never sleeps!” he laughed.

His eyes were as fevered as Ellis’s. The two of them were as tight with tension as wound up springs. At the same time the General’s preparations seemed in slow motion, as if time had stopped.

General Brock tied a wide striped sash around his waist. He told us Tecumseh had given it to him. He put on his round hat. Then he stood up — what a giant he seemed! — and said these words: “Miss Susanna, would you buckle on my sword to bring me luck?”

I did not want to do it. I did not want him to put on his sword at all — that meant he would go off to fight and perhaps be killed. I was filled with a profound weariness of swords and battles, and of this war which has separated me from the people I love.

But how could I refuse? I glanced at Ellis, whose eyes were pleading. General Brock kept smiling at me and I had to give in. My great admiration for him won over my reluctance.

I nodded and he lifted me up to stand on a chair. Ellis handed me the sword in its ornate leather scabbard. As I was raising it General Brock said, “No, that sword will not do. Ellis, fetch me my other one.”

Ellis ran out of the room and returned almost immediately with a long, curved sabre. He gave it to me, and my arms sagged under its weight. It was so much heavier than the first sword that Ellis had to help hold it in place while I fastened the stiff buckle. It only took a few minutes but it seemed more like hours.

General Brock thanked me and kissed me on the forehead. Then he lowered me to the floor. Porter handed him a dark cloak as he left the room.

We followed him out the front door. His aides, Macdonell and Glegg, were waiting for him outside. Alfred was harnessed and saddled and their own horses were ready. The General mounted and gave his aides some orders I did not entirely understand. But I heard him say that most of the troops were to stay at Fort George in case the battle in Queenston was only a distraction. That relieved me — perhaps Papa and Hamilton will not have to fight.

General Brock said goodbye and galloped into the windy darkness, his cloak flapping behind him. The two men got on their horses and rushed off to the fort. Ellis and I went into the hall to get out of the icy rain. For a few minutes we just stood there in silence. Ellis stared weirdly into the air, the way he had that day in our orchard.

“Why did you ask me to come here?” I asked, to break the spell he seemed to be under.

“I thought you would bring him luck,” he mumbled. “It was my last hope. I told you before, Susanna — you are a lucky person. Even General Brock must have sensed it — that is why he asked you to buckle on his sword.”

Then Ellis’s voice choked. “But your luck is not enough. It will not be able to save him from his fate. We will never see him again.”

I asked him how he could know that. “I do not want to know it!” he cried. “I just do!” He rushed up the stairs. I trudged back here, my heart full of dread and wonder.

I do not know what possesses that strange boy, but I pray that his premonition is wrong. Please, God, may my fulfilling General Brock’s request bring him the luck he needs.

Later

We are now at Fort George. Hamilton woke us at six and told us that we had to take refuge in the fort. Hannah packed some blankets and food for us, grumbling at being disrupted.

Hamilton bundled us here in the wagon — Hannah and me and Ellis, who had been sent over by Porter in case the latter had to fight. I hurriedly packed this journal, a pen and some ink. Writing to you is all that keeps me calm.

When we reached the plain, we saw many troops assembled there. One at a time they were marching across it to the fort. A large group of Indian warriors was already heading to Queenston, their faces painted in red and black.

To my dismay, Hamilton told me that he and Papa were also to leave for Queenston at once. I clung to him so hard he had to pry me loose. He had tears in his eyes as he kissed me goodbye, but his eager expression chilled me. I wonder if I will ever see my beloved brother again.

We are shut up in the soldiers’ barracks and not allowed to leave. Hannah is helping the women cook some gruel for breakfast. I was told to look after the little children. For a while I taught them cat’s cradle with some lengths of string, but my heart is too heavy to amuse them for long.

It is dark in here and there is a strong smell of babies’ napkins. I am sitting in a corner by a lantern writing this. Ellis is slouched beside me. He will not eat or speak, but only sits and stares into the air with his haunted eyes.

Mid-morning

I am snatching a moment to tell you this, since I do not know when I will have the time to write again.

We were fired upon! When we heard the cannons Ellis and I raced to the upper floor of the barracks. From there we saw a horrifying sight. Smoke was pouring from the cannons at Fort Niagara and below us our gunners were firing back. I plugged my ears at the resounding booms. There are fires burning in town and I wonder if Papa’s house has been hit.

To my terror, cannon balls were bouncing and smashing right here in the fort. Then we saw that a hot ball had set one of the storehouses on fire. “Come on!” cried Ellis. “We have to help!” He ran down the stairs. Fear held me back for only a few seconds — I could not let him go alone.

Hannah tried to stop me as I ran past her but I struggled out of her grasp and followed Ellis out the door of the barracks. Soldiers were passing buckets of water from hand to hand. Ellis and I joined the line. It took both of us to hold one bucket and I felt my arms were breaking, but our efforts won out and the building was saved.

Then someone shouted that the powder magazine had been hit! We ran over to see men on top of it, dousing the leaping flames. I cannot let myself think of what would have happened had the barrels of powder inside been ignited.

When both fires were out we stood behind the soldiers, trying to catch our breath. Ellis’s face was grimy with soot and his eyes red with smoke, as mine must have been. My heart was pounding, but with exertion and exhilaration more than with fear.

Ellis pointed out Major General Sheaffe. We slunk behind a building to watch him, afraid someone would send us back to the barracks. The General was assembling a large troop of British soldiers. They quickly left the fort, I presume to join the battle at Queenston.

Ellis remarked on how stricken the General’s face was, and said he must have had bad news.

“You are imagining things!” I told him angrily. It irks me how Ellis is so prone to think the worst.

Then an officer noticed us and ordered us back in here.

We can still hear the volley of cannons as our two forts fight one another. Children are whimpering with fright as their mothers try to soothe them. Hannah has scolded us roundly for going outside. She strictly forbids us to leave again.

Later

I am presently right in the middle of the war! It astounds me to write that, Constance. I have prayed for our safety. Yet I do not feel as frightened as when I was at home and the danger was invisible.

I keep thinking of General Brock’s excitement as he got ready to leave, and of Hamilton’s also. Is it the exhilaration that draws them to war, the same that still floods me from fighting the fires? I have never felt more alive than at this moment when I may be killed.

Later

Our brave General Brock is slain. The news has spread through the fort like the flames that were burning. All around me the women are gasping their disbelief. “What will we do now?” one just cried. “How will we win without him?”

When a soldier came in to announce it to us, Ellis did not cry out as I did. He only nodded, as if he knew all along. Now he is sitting against a wall with his head on his arms. I wrapped my shawl around him, as it is very cold in here. I wish I could comfort him, but he is far away from me. I am so sorry I was angry with him. He looks like such a small boy, huddled in his misery.

General Brock had already died when we were watching General Sheaffe, so Ellis was right.

As for me, I can scarcely absorb the news and can only pray that the same fate did not occur to Papa and Hamilton. I am ashamed that I wrote those words about feeling exhilarated. War is not about exhilaration — it is about death.

Evening

Hamilton and Papa are safe! I thank God for that. They arrived back at Fort George dirty and weary, but unharmed. The battle at Queenston Heights is over and we won, but at what cost?

I do not think that I have the spirit to tell you much more about the rest of this day. It was suffused with tragedy. By the early evening I could not bear to watch Ellis’s lonely grief any longer. I wandered upstairs and gazed beyond the walls.

To my astonishment, hundreds and hundreds of American soldiers were being marched towards the fort. I quickly realized these were prisoners from the battle. As they drew closer I could see how weary the men were, and what an effort it was for them to march. Many were as young as Hamilton. They seemed ordinary, not like an enemy. They were someone’s brothers and sons.

I wanted to get a closer look. Hannah was too busy helping to cook supper to notice when I slipped out the door of the barracks.

Then I wished I had not. As well as prisoners streaming into the fort, wounded soldiers had begun to arrive, some British but most American. Bodies were lined up in rows on the ground. Many were moaning with pain but some looked already dead. Many had gaping wounds. One had half his face missing, another his arm. Blood covered their uniforms and bandages and skin.

I scurried back to the barracks. I cannot write any more about what I saw, but its horror will stay with me forever.

Now I am beginning to believe that General Brock is dead. I keep hearing his kind voice as he asked me to buckle on his sword.

Why did I not bring him the luck he needed?

14 October 1812

Dear Constance,

Hannah and I are back in the house now. Papa has asked her to sew me a black dress for General Brock’s funeral, which is the day after tomorrow. There is a cease-fire, so it is safe for me to remain in Niagara for a few days longer. But all I want is to go home.

Several buildings were burned to the ground from the cannon fire, including the courthouse, which is next door. It is still smouldering and the air smells like charred wood. It could have been this house! Papa says he is glad we were safe in the fort, but I reminded him of the fires there. Nowhere is safe in a war.

Lieutenant Colonel John Macdonell, who fought bravely at General Brock’s side, was seriously wounded. He was carried to Government House, where he died shortly after midnight. Now his body is lying in state along with General Brock’s.

It is so hard to believe that their bodies are next door, when only yesterday morning I observed them both getting ready to fight. When I think of General Brock’s height and vigour, of his kindness, I have to stop what I am doing and weep.

Hannah says I must learn to govern my feelings. She is still cross with me for leaving the barracks to help with the fire, and she is as exhausted as I am after our arduous time. This makes her even more disagreeable than usual. How I long for Mama!

I have to help Hannah sew my dress, but my eyes blur and I have to force the needle through the cloth. The house is very quiet. Papa and Hamilton are so busy getting ready for the funeral that we have not seen them since they brought us back here last night.

I wonder if Ellis is all right. What will become of him now that his guardian is dead?

Afternoon

I spent the morning doing more sewing until the dress was finally finished. It is very ugly and ill-fitting. Hannah is not a good sewer and, although I can make neat stitches, I am not any better than she at cutting out. I would have liked to go outside, but Hannah will not let me leave the house. Crowds of people walk up and down the street, all here for the funeral.

Hannah went to lie down and ordered me to do the same. But I could not sleep. My head was swirling with jangled images and sounds — the General’s words, cannon fire, all those bleeding soldiers. I got up and discovered a copy of Pilgrim’s Progress in Papa’s study. For the rest of the afternoon I was immersed in it, and found it a welcome escape.

Evening

Hamilton stayed home after supper and we were finally able to talk. In fact, it was the longest I have had him to myself for months. I feasted my eyes on him the whole time, so glad he was alive.

We had so much to catch up on! First he described the battle. He and Papa reached Queenston just in time to hear about General Brock’s death. The General led his men in a running charge up the Heights — I remembered how steep they were. His tall figure in his red coat made him an easy target. He had just raised his sword — that heavy sword I held — and turned to urge his men forward when he was shot in his chest.

Captain Glegg told Hamilton that General Brock’s last words were, “My fall must not be noticed or impede my brave companions from advancing to victory.” His body was quickly taken into a house in Queenston so the enemy would not know he was slain.

All of this was very difficult to listen to. Hamilton went on to tell me that it was the cries of the Iroquois warriors, led by the valiant Mohawk leader, John Norton, which drove off the Americans. So once again the Indians have helped us win a battle.

Both Hamilton and Papa played decisive roles. When General Sheaffe arrived he sent Hamilton galloping off to Chippewa for reinforcements. After the victory Papa was asked to help ride along the column of enemies and collect their swords, which he placed on the pommel of his saddle. Papa has been given the great honour of being a pallbearer tomorrow.

“Were you not afraid of being killed?” I asked my brother. He admitted to me that he was, that he thought of Catherine and wanted to live for her. But his eyes were still lit up with the flame of fighting. He would have gone over and over every detail had I not told him I could not bear to hear any more.

He asked me what it had been like being at the fort, so I told him how Ellis and I had helped put out the fire and watched the magazine being saved. “It was foolish of you to leave the barracks,” Hamilton told me. “You are only children.” Then he smiled. “But you were both very brave — I am proud of you.”

I suppose we were brave — although I do not know if I would have done it without Ellis.

“You and Papa were braver,” I said. “And General Brock.” I stammered as I said it. I could not finish and tears filled my eyes.

“I hope that Father and I will always temper our courage with good sense,” said Hamilton. He smiled at me. “As I hope you will!”

He paused. “I will tell you something, Susanna, that perhaps I should not. General Brock was a very courageous man, but if he had not been so reckless perhaps he might still be alive. Do not tell Papa I said this, but I believe that gallant dash up the Heights was foolhardy. He should have ordered a captain to make the charge. But that was Brock’s weakness, I think, his love of bold action — it was his Achilles’ heel.”

I shivered, suddenly remembering what Ellis had said. “Who was Achilles?” I asked. Hamilton explained how the mythological hero was invincible except for his heel, which was his downfall.

We both sat there silently, mourning our hero. Hamilton then caught me up with all he has been doing. When he related how he took the American prisoners, I said that General Brock had told us that when he came for tea.

“I knew he had visited. What a privilege for you to meet him!” said Hamilton.

I did not tell him I had met the General again. I did not tell him that I had buckled on his sword and that General Brock had kissed me on the forehead. I did not tell him about my great sadness and guilt that I am not “lucky” after all.

Why did I not relate all this to Hamilton? I think it was because I need to first sort out my churning feelings. They scour my insides like boiling water. I need to be quiet, to be at home and to ponder all that happened only yesterday morning. But I cannot go home yet, and here the war is too close for me to think clearly.

I believe these have been the two longest days of my life.

16 October 1812
Afternoon

Dear Constance,

I am going to tell you every detail of General Brock’s funeral, because today I truly lived a moment in history. Writing about it also distracts me from my inner turmoil.

Hamilton and Papa had already left when I got up. My ugly dress itched me and was too tight under the arms. But that did not matter — at least I looked respectful. Hannah and I went out very early to get a good viewing place. Never have I seen such a crowd — there must have been thousands! Waves of people in mourning clothes spread over the streets like a black sea.

The procession began at ten. First came the red coats of the 41st Regiment, followed by the militia. As well as Hamilton, I spotted James and Charles and pointed them out to Hannah. Behind them was the regimental band, which played slow mournful music accompanied by drums muffled in black cloth. Every few minutes field guns were fired.

Alfred, tragically riderless and splendidly draped in ornamental coverings, was led by a groom. And then I saw Ellis. He was walking beside Porter, his face white and proud. He looked so small but his steps did not falter.

I recognized Doctor Thorn and Reverend Addison among the men who followed. Then came the caskets on gun wagons, first John Macdonell’s, then General Brock’s. Papa was marching beside the General’s. I waved proudly, but of course he kept his eyes straight ahead. His left arm and his sword-knot, like all the other soldiers’, were wrapped in black crape.

General Sheaffe looked so solemn. He is now our new leader. Hamilton said if it were not for his quick thinking the battle would have been lost.

General Brock’s staff and friends followed his casket and we fell in behind along with the rest of the crowd. They pressed so closely and I could not see anything. Hannah held onto me firmly but I tugged and let my hand slip away as if by accident. I managed to wriggle my way through the crowd and find a clearer spot near the front of the procession.

The route to Fort George was lined with two rows of detachments, including Indians and the coloured troops in their green coats. All the soldiers held their muskets upside down. After the long procession the caskets stopped at the northernmost corner of the fort, at the Cavalier Bastion.

I squirmed to the front and was able to hear the whole service. Reverend Addison conducted it. When he said, “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” I could not hold back my tears. A woman next to me gave me her handkerchief. The two caskets were lowered into a single grave, to lie there side by side. The grave was one of the casements Ellis had shown me in June.

After the internment there were three rounds of seven guns each. The Americans in Fort Niagara answered the salute and I could see from the fort that their flag, like ours, was at half-mast. It is a great tribute to the General that they honoured him as much as we did.

Everyone was grieving, but there was also a feeling of release, as if the war were over. But of course it is still here, like a crouching beast waiting to pounce on us again.

Evening

After supper, while everyone else was talking about the funeral, I slipped out and knocked on the door of Government House. Porter answered it and led me to Ellis.

Ellis was sitting in the kitchen, a plate of untouched food in front of him. The house was dark and gloomy, haunted by the tragedy that permeated it.

At first our words were strained. I told Ellis how well he looked walking in the procession. We talked a little about the funeral and he seemed to perk up in my presence, beginning to eat. I did not want to disturb him further, but I had to ask what was going to happen to him.

Ellis said that General Brock’s will had provided for him, and that he was to be sent to school in England. I asked him if he wanted that. He shrugged.

“It is what General Brock wanted,” he said, “and what my father wanted as well. I will try to like it for their sakes.” His voice was sad but resigned.

Ellis cannot go to England with the war still on, of course, so until it is over he is to live with Porter in York.

There did not seem to be much to say after that. I watched him finish his meal and then I said goodbye.

I will probably never see Ellis again. He is the bravest boy I have ever met.

17 October 1812

Dear Constance,

This morning Papa and Hamilton drove me home. Mama was there! I flew into her arms. Caroline and James and the baby were home as well. Caroline kissed me heartily and seemed in her old good spirits again. Perhaps it was just being with child that had made her so irritable. Even James was attentive to me.

“Come and meet your niece,” Caroline said. The baby was sleeping in her cradle. She is a perfect small human with the tiniest fingers and toes. She is called Adelaide Margaret. I think those are fine names.

When she woke up I was allowed to hold her. I can help take care of her, for Caroline and Adelaide are to live here until the war is over.

We talked and talked, filling each other in on all that had happened. Maria was telling me so many things that my ears were ringing. She and Tabitha were very lonely with only the two of them here. While I was gone they had to fix a hole in the roof caused by the storm, and raccoons got into the corncrib.

Mama asked to see the space where my tooth was. It seems like years since my toothache, as if I were much younger then.

“Tell them what you did in the fort, Susanna,” said Hamilton.

When I had finished Mama told me I was imprudent, but Papa said I was very courageous for eleven. I reminded him that I was now twelve.

“Twelve!” Mama cried. “Oh my dear child, how could we have forgotten?” Everyone looked ashamed and I assured them that it did not matter. Maria ran upstairs and came down with a needlecase in the shape of a small book that she had embroidered for me.

Then I told Papa how much I had grown. He took me on his knee and said he would have to do something about that. I scarcely dare to hope he knows my wish. Perhaps, at twelve, I am too old to sit on his knee, but tonight I did not care.

As we sat in the parlour I realized that this was the first time we have all been together since June. On Monday the men will have to leave us. But tonight, as Mouse purred on my lap, Jack slept at my feet, and my family chattered around me, I felt sheltered in safety.

18 October 1812

Dear Constance,

I am nearing the end of this book, but I must go back to writing to you regularly. Recording the daily routine of my life is the only thing that quiets the storm of emotions inside me. I shall try to make my handwriting tiny.

This morning Papa conducted a service of thanksgiving in the parlour. He thanked God for preserving the safety of the men in our family, for helping us win the battle of Queenston Heights, and for the heroic sacrifice of General Brock.

For dinner we had a roasted side of beef that Papa had brought home, with parsnips and green beans and pumpkin pie. In the afternoon I joined him and Hamilton in a ride around our land. I had to keep whipping Sukie to get her to keep up. Papa said, “I think you have outgrown that stubborn beast.”

I was allowed to mind Adelaide for a whole hour while the others helped get supper. Her blue eyes stare curiously and she clenches my finger with great strength.

Charles rode all the way from Queenston to call on Maria. He told us that his sister, Mrs. Secord, had gone out to look for her husband on the battlefield at Queenston Heights. She found him wounded and dragged him home. What a brave woman she must be!

Mama allowed Charles and Maria to walk in the orchard. I was supposed to chaperone but Maria asked me to give them privacy, so I lingered under a tree. I have never seen Maria look so radiant.

After supper we played whist, and sang, and talked and talked. Our full house was suffused with contentment.

Why, then, do I feel such agitation? It is as if part of me is not really here, but still in Niagara. I have not caught up with myself since being in the kitchen with General Brock and Ellis, since listening to the cannons roar and seeing all those horribly wounded soldiers.

Papa’s prayer made me even more unsettled. Did God want us to win? Did He want General Brock to be killed? Surely I should not have such thoughts, but I cannot help it.

19 October 1812
Morning

Dear Constance,

Last night in bed Maria told me that Charles has asked for her hand. They have to wait until she is older, but then they will be betrothed. Maria gave Charles all the letters she wrote. She embraced me and thanked me for the paper. Then she made me promise not to tell anyone her secret.

Another secret! At least this is a happy one. I like Charles and hope he will be a steadying husband to my flighty sister.

Later

Papa, Hamilton and James left today. The truce has been extended, however, so they are going to try to come home again next Sunday.

I spent the day helping with the laundry and with Adelaide. I think she recognizes me. She is a good baby, rarely crying.

Tabitha asked me if I had seen General Brock before he was killed, since she knows he lived next door to Papa. I told her I had seen him enter his house that night. I could not tell her more.

20 October 1812

Dear Constance,

I saw Abbie for the first time since I have returned. We sat under our tree and she asked about everything that has happened. So I told her about my toothache, and putting out the fires in the fort, and General Brock’s funeral. She was in awe of all I had witnessed.

Again, however, I could not unburden my great secret. I also still did not let her know about Ellis.

Abbie gave me a pretty green ribbon for my birthday. My hair is almost long enough to tie back. She is very happy because the cease-fire means her father does not have to worry about being called to fight for the moment.

She wanted to make more clothes for our dolls. I helped do so, but my heart was not in it. That game seems childish now and I feel older than Abbie, although I am not.

21 October 1812

Dear Constance,

Today I finally told Abbie about Ellis, how I had met him in June and seen him again in August and last week. Alas, her reaction was what I expected. She said that now that I had a boy I admired she could talk to me about Uriah.

“It is not like that!” I told her, but she did not understand.

22 October 1812

Dear Constance,

Now that Mama has Caroline to help with the household tasks she will have more time to teach me. This morning she came with me to the Seabrooks’ and asked if Abbie could join in my studies. They agreed that she could until the baby is born in January. I will be glad to have a companion in learning.

The weather is cold and every evening I heat up a stone to warm our bed. We hear Adelaide cry in the night, but she soon settles down after Caroline feeds her.

23 October 1812

Dear Constance,

This morning Abbie walked over and we had our first lesson together from Mama. She taught us some words in French, saying it would be useful for us to know some of that language if we ever went to Lower Canada. Mama had to stop us giggling and whispering, just as if she were a real teacher.

Despite how different I now feel from Abbie, she is still my closest friend and I hope she always will be.

24 October 1812

Dear Constance,

I took Sukie for a long ride in the forest. The trees are almost bare and there are many leaves on the ground. They look like bright coins strewn there. There was a heavy mist and when I saw someone approaching I could scarcely make out who it was.

It was Elias. He was taking a bag of wheat to his uncle’s mill. I kept him sitting on his horse for a long time while I told him about my recent adventures. He was very envious that I had been in the midst of the cannon fire on Fort George. I wanted to tell him about how terrible it was to see the wounded men, but I could not bear to.

He would be even more envious if I told him about the sword. I almost did, but could not get out the words about that, either. Perhaps I will one day.

Elias said he admired how long my hair was growing. He was very friendly and I do not think he will ever plague me again.

25 October 1812

Dear Constance,

I have a horse! Papa and Hamilton and James arrived late last night. This morning, just as I was going out to collect the eggs, Papa put a blindfold over my eyes and led me to the barn.

There was a fine chestnut mare, wearing a handsome saddle and bridle! He lifted me onto her. I felt so high, but she is gentle and I can manage her easily. I am calling her Queen, after the battle. Her nose is as soft as velvet.

I have spent most of the day riding Queen — Mama has excused me from my chores, as if today were my real birthday. Once again we have a very full house. Papa and James have to return to Niagara on Tuesday, but Hamilton is to stay all week to shoot us some game, butcher some pigs and split some wood.

Queen is the best birthday present I have ever received. Having her settles slightly the agitation inside me.

26 October 1812

Dear Constance,

It is difficult to tell you what happened this evening. Papa was saying he hoped General Brock’s gallant death would inspire more men to fight once the truce ends. “I hear Adam Seabrook was fined for deserting,” he said. “Perhaps now he will be more loyal to Britain.”

Mama asked him, in a steely voice I have never heard her use before, why Mr. Seabrook should have to fight against his own country if he chooses not to. And then she told Papa that she gave Mr. Seabrook the money to pay his fine.

The room was completely silent. Everyone stared at her in disbelief. My heart pounded, fearing Papa’s reaction.

He asked Mama to repeat her words, and she did. Papa looked astounded. Then he said, “I greatly disapprove of your doing that, Polly, especially considering my position.”

Mama said calmly that she was sorry he disagreed, but that she had done what she thought was right.

Papa got very red in the face. He asked Mama to come upstairs so they could discuss the issue in private. While they were gone we chattered nervously, playing with the baby and trying to pretend that Mama and Papa were not having the first quarrel I have ever known them to have.

Finally they returned. I glanced from one to the other as Maria and Caroline sang for us. Mama looked triumphant and Papa bewildered. I feel sorry for both of them, but most of all I am proud of Mama for standing up for her beliefs.

27 October 1812

Dear Constance,

I have at last been unburdened of my great secret. Hamilton and I went for a long ride, it being a fine sunny day. First he praised me for how well I handled Queen. Then he told me how much he missed Catherine and how he has not heard from her at all since she left. “I believe her father is forbidding her to answer my letters,” he said bitterly.

While I consoled Hamilton, I worked up the courage to confide in him. Finally, as we rested our horses under a tree, I did.

Of course he was amazed to hear how I had gone into the General’s house, how I had buckled on his sword and how General Brock had kissed me on the forehead.

“Susanna! What a great honour!” he said. “You will remember this the rest of your life!”

I nodded, but then I told him what has been tearing me apart — how futile my gesture was, how I did not bring General Brock luck at all. How futile this war is, when brave men like General Brock have to be killed, brave men like Mr. Seabrook and Samuel have to refuse to fight their own country, and brave women like Mama have to go against their husbands. I started to weep, telling him I did not know what to think about anything any more, even God — and especially this confusing war.

Hamilton got off his horse and lifted me down from Queen. He held me close until I stopped crying. “You do too much thinking for your age,” he said finally. “Yes, it is a confusing war. So confusing that each individual, such as Mr. Seabrook and Mama, has to deal with it according to his or her conscience. Perhaps it is futile also — as all war is. I am already tired of it and I cannot see any end in sight.”

He smiled. “As for God — how can I explain what He wants? It is our duty to believe that whatever happens is for our own good. Is this not what we learn from Scripture, that we have to put our trust in Him?”

“But what about General Brock? Surely his death was not for our own good! Was it God’s will that he died?”

Hamilton sighed. “What difficult questions you ask, Susanna! Brock made his own choice. He took a great risk and it resulted in tragedy. All we can do — all God wants us to do — is to accept it.”

This did not cheer me. But Hamilton went on to assure me that the General’s death was certainly not my fault.

“But I did not bring him luck!” I cried. “Ellis said that I was a lucky person, but I am not!”

Hamilton told me that talking to me and having me buckle on his sword probably heartened General Brock greatly as he rode towards the battle. “And you bring us luck,” he said, kissing my forehead. “This family would not be the same without your cheerful presence. My dear little sister, try to dismiss your worries. Be the happy child you were meant to be!”

A great lightness filled me. Perhaps Hamilton is right. It may be years before I sort out my feelings about this hateful war, before I answer all the questions, which plague me. Perhaps while I am still young I need not agonize about them quite so much.

I asked my brother not to tell anyone else my secret and he promised.