On the laying of the corner stone of the Brock monument at Queenston Heights, and the final interment of the General who had fallen at the battle of Queenston, Oct. 13th, 1812. The remains of his Aide, Col. McDonald, [Lt.-Col. John Macdonell] were also deposited under the new tower.
First Brock’s Monument After the Explosion as it Appeared in 1842 Image courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library
A wail went o’er broad Canada,
When it was known a vile outlaw
Had at midnights awful hour,
With ruffian hand blown up the tower.
‘Neath which had slept the gallant Brock
Who bravely fell on Queenston’s rock,
But graceful column soon shall rise,
Its beauteous shaft will kiss the skies.
For from Queenston’s woody height
You may behold a pleasing sight,
The grim old veterans of the war,
Militiamen with many a scar.
Indian braves from each nation,
Grouped to pay their last ovation,
Round the remains of General Brock,
Who led them oft in battle’s shock.
Old heroes now again do rally,
Feebly they move along the valley,
Not as they rushed in days of yore
When torrent like they onward bore.
And swept away the foeman’s ranks
O’er Niagara’s rugged banks,
So indignant was their grief
On losing of their warrior chief.
Now, with triumphant funeral car,
Adorned with implements of war,
The sad procession slow ascends,
As round the hill its way it wends.
Marching to mournful, solemn note,
While grand old flags around it float,
And now may peace be never broken
‘Mong lands where Saxon tongue is spoken.
“For peace hath victories by far
More glorious than horrid war,”
England doth Longfellow revere,
And America loves Shakespeare.
Note by James McIntyre: The oration on the above interesting occasion was delivered by the late Hon. William H. Merritt, projector of the Welland Canal. He served at the battle when a young man. We witnessed the interesting ceremony and shall never forget it.
Source: James McIntyre. Poems of James McIntyre. Ingersoll, Ont.: The Chronicle, 1889
See J.A. Murphy’s Ode to a Bytown Youth for the story of how the giant flag was affixed to the remains of the first Brock’s monument.
During the so-called war of 1812-14 between England and the United States, Laura Secord, the wife of a crippled British veteran, saved the British forces from surprise and possible destruction by the heroic action narrated in the ballad. Her home lay near the celebrated Queenston Heights, a few miles from the Falls of Niagara.
Engraving of James Gates Percival From a Painting by G.W. Flagg
I too have seen thy ever-pouring flood,
Mightiest of cataracts, Niagara!
Have seen thy restless waters rush away,
And on thy beetling rock alone have stood,
And seen the morning sunbeams paint thy spray,
And countless rainbows on thy light mist play;
And I have walked along thy field of blood,
Whereon the free invaders stood at bay,
And, mantled in the shadow of the night,
Infuriate warriors wrestled in the fight,
The pale moon weeping o’er the mortal fray;
And I have gazed, from Queenston’s hallowed height,
On river, lake, and plain, in sunset bright,
Gilt streams, dark woods, blue waves in sweet array:
And hither, as the years shall roll away,
The pilgrim of our land shall fondly hie,
And here the tribute of his heart shall pay,
And kneel before the shrine of God and liberty.
Source: James Gates Percival. The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival. Boston: Ticknor and Fields, 1859.
The original Brock Monument Overlooking the Village of Queenston by J.C. Armytage. Image courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library
Lines composed on seeing the Proposals of the Commissioners for erecting a Monument to the memory of the late MAJOR GENERAL SIR ISAAC BROCK. — In imitation of the death of WOLFE.
CROWN’D with sad cypress Britannia sat mournful,
Where Queenston’s bold heights overlook the broad plain;
Her Garments were wet with the tears of Aurora,
And she mus’d on the deeds of her BROCK that was slain.
Her soul was absorb’d in profound contemplation;
‘Neath her feet roll’d the surge of its turbid career;
Now she gazed on the skies — now the dark deep before her,
While Niagara’s thunders broke full on her ear.
“My BROCK!” she exclaimed — “did death here arrest thee!
Did thy gallant spirit here burst from its clay!
Ah! why was so short the bright path of thy glory!
Why cut down so soon in the noon of thy day?”
‘Twas morn, — and sublime o’er the guiph of Niagara,
On the dark folding cloud rising dense to the sky,
Sat the GENIUS of CANADA — round far below him,
Majestic he shot the quick glance of his eye.
He saw the disconsolate Queen of the Ocean
Reclin’d on the ground — in an instant was there
Before her the vision cloud built, and suspended,
It hung o’er the channel’s rocks in mid the air.
She gazed with wonder—the genius refulgent
In glory, descended and stood at her feet: —
Ah! why, he exclaim’d dost thou sorrow, fair Empress,
And pour the sad sigh on the midnight retreat?
Thy BROCK is not dead,— for still fresh in his glory;
Unscathed remained the bright wreath of his fame;
And long shall posterity tell the proud story,
And kindle anew at the sound of his name.
When called to the council of state, by his wisdom
He banish’d discordance, uniting all hands
And all hearts into one, all their energies guiding
As one, to one object, his Sovereign’s commands
The glory of Britain — the good of his country
United, stood firm in the views of his mind,
In battle a thunderbolt, — mild to the vanquish’d,
In council a sage, — and a friend to mankind.
His labors were ended, and ripe was his glory: —
The FATHER of all call’d him home to his rest;
Now a crown, never fading, encircles his temples,
And peace, gentle peace, reigns serene in his breast.
‘Tis mine here below his fair fame to watch over;
His memory to guard from oblivion’s dun shade;
And here on this ground will I raise his proud trophy,
Where he fell — where his last gallant act was display’d.
E’en now are my faithful Canadians preparing
The pile of affection to rear to his name.
The marble shall tell of his deeds to the stranger.
And ages unborn shall recount all his fame.
ERIEUS
Port Talbot, Dec. 23, 1823
Adam Hood Burwell published poems under the pen name Erieus
Source: Burwell, Adam Hood. “New” Poems of Adam Hood Burwell. Edited and Introduced by Mary Lu MacDonald. canadianpoetry.org/ 2020
John Neal by Sarah Miriam Peale, c. 1823, Portland Museum of Art – Portland, Maine
The full title of this book is Battle of Niagara: A Poem, Without Notes : and Goldau, Or, The Maniac Harper. It was originally published under the pseudonym Jehu O’Cataract in 1818.
John Neal was of Quaker descent but was read out of the society. He was a pioneer in American literature, being the first American contributor to English and Scotch quarterlies. He was an artist, a lawyer, traveler, journalist, athlete and an advocate of woman suffrage in 1838.
“The Battle of Niagara” was written when the author was a prisoner, or so he informs the reader. It has a metrical introduction with four cantos which tell the story of the Battle of Niagara. This story is interspersed with various flights of poetic fancy on the scenery and surroundings of the Falls.
N.B. The Battle of Niagara is now formally known as the Battle of Lundy’s Lane. Other names have included the Battle of Niagara Falls and the Battle of Bridgewater.
*Dow, Charles Mason. Anthology and Bibliography of Niagara Falls. Albany: State of New York, 1921, p. 699
From Frank H. Severance:**
As I survey the literature of this- period I find no bolder utterance, no fiercer defiance of Great Britain’s “Hordes,” than in the sonorous stanzas of some of our gentle poets. Iambic defiance, unless kindled by a grand genius, is a poor sort of fireworks, even when it undertakes to combine patriotism and appreciation of natural scenery. Certainly something might be expected of a poet who sandwiches Niagara Falls in between bloody battles and gives us the magnificent in nature, the gallant in warfare and the loftiest patriotism in purpose, the three strains woven in a triple paean of passion, 94 duodecimo pages in length. Such a work was offered to the world at Baltimore in 1818, with this title-page: “Battle of Niagara, a Poem without Notes, and Goldau, or the Maniac Harper. Eagles and Stars and Rainbows. By Jehu O’Cataract, author of ‘Keep Cool.’ ” I have never seen “Keep Cool,” but it must be very different from the “Battle of Niagara,” or it belies its name. The fiery Jehu O’Cataract was John Neal, or “Yankee Neal,” as he was called.
The “Battle of Niagara,” he informs the reader, was written when he was a prisoner; when he “felt the victories of his countrymen.” The poem has a metrical introduction and four cantos, in which is told, none too lucidly, the story of the battle of Niagara, with such flights of eagles, scintillation of stars and breaking of rainbows, that no quotation can do it justice. In style it is now Miltonic, now reminiscent of Walter Scott. The opening canto is mainly an apostrophe to the Bird, and a vision of glittering horsemen. Canto two is a dissertation on Lake Ontario, with word-pictures of the primitive Indian. The rest of the poem is devoted to the battle near the great cataract—and throughout all are sprinkled the eagles, stars and rainbows. Do not infer from this that the production is wholly bad; it is merely a good specimen of that early American poetry which was just bad enough to escape being good.
Source: John Neal. Battle of Niagara: A Poem, Without Notes : and Goldau, Or, The Maniac Harper. Baltimore: N.G. Maxwell. From the Portico Press, Geo. W. Grater, printer, 1818
