Acts of Courage (6 page)

Father shook the extended hand. “Thank you, James. Just call me Thomas, and I want to thank you for moving the trunk for my family.”

“I was glad to help. Now, I understand you’re looking for accommodation. Two rooms are available with two large bedsteads, and they’ll set up cots for the rest of the children. Will that be enough accommodation for tonight?”

“Why, yes,” Father replied in amazement. As long as there were beds ready for them all to collapse onto, he didn’t care how small the quarters. “We’re mighty obliged to you for getting us a dry roof over our heads.”

“I’m afraid it’s just for tonight. The inn is full, but the owner is doubling up his own family to give you a couple of their rooms. Now, tomorrow, I can bring you a tent and set it up on some property I have on the edge of town. I’m sorry I can’t offer anything better.”

“It’s the best offer we’ve had yet, and I thank you. Sally will be so relieved. She and our youngest are very tired from the trip.”

“What part of the states are you from?”

“Great Barrington, Massachusetts, and I’ve come to set up a farm in Upper Canada.”

“Your daughter told me about the farm. I hope you like it here. We have good fertile land just waiting to be cleared.”

“My good friend, Captain Brant, has already picked a site for us, but I haven’t seen it yet. I have to get the family settled at Queenston first. Now, we should be getting back. They’ve been waiting a long time.” Father stepped out onto the verandah with James and Laura following.

“Let me help you bring your load up here to the inn,” said James.

Father hesitated. “That would really help, but your team is already loaded down.” James’s horses were shifting restlessly and ready to be on their way home.

“I have to take my supplies to St. David’s about five miles away, but then I’ll come back and help you. I’ll hurry. I’ll not be long.”

“We would appreciate your help, and I’ll gladly pay for your services.” Father was reaching into his pocket.

“No, that won’t be necessary, and I hope that the wait won’t be too hard for the women.” He looked at Laura again as he spoke. “Just a minute—wait here.” James turned and strode back into the inn before they had a chance to answer.

Laura noticed the relief in her father’s face, but he looked very tired as he leaned against the railing on the verandah of the inn. His hair seemed more grey than brown now.

James returned about five minutes later with a round basket covered with a bright cloth. “This will help pass the time until I return,” he said with a broad smile as he handed it to Laura.”

Laura could smell fresh-baked bread and, peeping under the cover, she saw huge slices of cheese, a large, spicy apple pie, and some oatmeal cookies. “Thank you,” she called out. He was already off the verandah and busy unhitching his horses from the post where they were tied.

Laura walked slowly behind her father down the pathway to where the family was waiting. Only once did she stop and turn to look back along the road to St. David’s, but James had already disappeared. All she could see was the hard, rutted road and miles of budding trees stretching on toward the horizon.

***

“It’s surprisingly comfortable, Thomas,” Sally admitted.

While still returning to the inn for meals, they had worked for three days putting everything in order in their two canvas houses. They were pitched side by side on a green stretch of land at the edge of town, just below the Heights.

“Well, if a canvas house is good enough for the Lieutenant-Governor of Upper Canada, it should be good enough for us,” Father said with some satisfaction. James had told them about Governor Simcoe bringing Captain Cook’s canvas house from England. When the Simcoes found it too crowded in Navy Hall, the Government House at Newark, his wife had insisted he have it set up immediately for their private use.

Laura sat on a stump beside the front door to the big tent and looked out with wonder at the beauty of the steep, wide escarpment just to the south of them. The local people called it the Heights.

Laura turned toward the roadway when she heard the sounds of an approaching team of horses. Charles rushed out past her, for he, too, had heard, and they both knew that James Secord was going to be delivering the fresh supplies that their father had ordered from his store in St. David’s.

James drove his team right up beside the tent and, when he jumped down from the wagon, he grabbed the excited Charles and sat him on the back of one of the horses. “Giddy up,” shouted Charles, digging his feet into the mare’s side.

The team lunged forward, but James had been watching, and he pulled the reins back tight. The now-petrified Charles grabbed the horse’s mane and clung to its neck to keep his balance. After he had settled his team, James lifted Charles down and smiled at Laura, who had walked over to take the squirming boy.

“You’ll make a good rider some day,” said James as he put the boy on the ground beside his sister.

“I’d like to ride him
now
!” Charles shouted back.

“Charles, go in the house,” said Father who had come out just in time to see the boy being put down. “Thanks for delivering these supplies, James. I’m hoping to buy a team and wagon today, and then we can pick up our own supplies.”

“I’m glad to have your business, Thomas. St. David’s is not on the main mercantile route, and it’s overlooked sometimes. Queenston stores have an advantage.”

“Well, we’ll be going to St. David’s to buy our supplies,” Father promised. “It’s not that far away.”

James started to hand down the bags of flour, salt, and other household items to Father and, when they had finished stacking them, Father pulled out his money to pay James.

“Are you sure you want to pay in cash?”

“How else?” Thomas asked.

“Trading at the Landing is mostly in produce or labour.”

“Well, I’ve nothing to exchange, and I’m not free to work yet,” Father explained.

Laura sat down on the stump again as she watched her father and James shake hands at the front door of the tent. James saw her there and came over but stood in silence.

Laura looked up shyly. “Do come again, and thank you for all your help, Mr. Secord.”

“It was nothing,” he replied, somewhat embarrassed as he continued to stare at her. Then he shifted his cap to his other hand and said, “Please, call me James, Miss Ingersoll.”

“And I’m Laura,” she said, looking up into his deep blue eyes.

Just then the horse made a snorting sound and wrenched its bridle. James turned and saw the reins had become tangled in the branches of the tree where he had tied them.

“Laura…” The horses pounded their feet more. “They’re hungry. I have to get them home. Good night, Laura!”

“Good night, James.”

Then James jumped into the wagon and snapped the lines lightly on the horses’ backs. They needed no urging to pull the empty wagon and were off at a great speed.

NINE

Thomas, I can’t believe you are going to do this!” Sally exclaimed.

The family were comfortably settled into their canvas house and were sitting on benches around the table after breakfast. On the left side of the room was Sally and Father’s bedstead, and under it was the little trundle bed that pulled out for Charles. Appy’s large cradle was nearby. The rest of the tent was filled with the family’s everyday needs—a cupboard with cooking utensils and bags and barrels of supplies. The girls’ cots and trunks were housed in a smaller attached tent. A third small tent had been erected for Bett and Sam’s sleeping quarters. On sunny days, Sally and the girls cooked outside at a campfire that Father had set up and, on rainy days, the family ate sandwiches inside.

Fresh milk was delivered each day by a neighbour boy, Josh. He was the same boy who had helped James move the large trunk, and his father’s farm touched the part of James’s land on which their tent stood.

Father was trying to reason with Sally. “But you are getting to know people in the area now, and you have Sam and Bett to help.”

Laura felt sorry for her father, for their settling here in Queenston was only supposed to have been temporary, to appease Sally until their new home was ready. Laura, too, was eager to see the site, and though she sympathized with Sally, she couldn’t help wondering if Sally really had to complain so much. If he listened to her, they’d be sitting here forever in a tent instead of building a great home on an estate of their own.

Sally stared back at Thomas. “What do you mean by saying we are getting to know people in the area? Who? Tell me. The only person stopping by is James Secord, and sometimes that boy Josh takes time to visit with the girls. James has been a great help and so has Josh, but his parents haven’t visited, and no women have come to call.”

“They’re busy. May is seeding time for the farmers, and most wives do their share with the crops and the cattle, too. There are only a few families right inside Queenston, and they have large gardens. The farm women nearby are just too busy at this time of year. Anyway, what time have
you
had for visiting?”

“I would have had more free time if we’d had more help. Back in Great Barrington, the women often helped a new neighbour settle in.”

“You have three grown girls, and Bett and Sam and me. Not many women around here are that lucky, but I am taking one of the girls or Bett with me to the site to cook meals. It’ll save time for building.”

“I hope it’s not me.” Mira was starting to look forward to Josh’s visits, and lately he had dropped by quite often—even after he had finished delivering his milk. He and Mira would sit on the stumps in front of their tent and talk for ages. Father said that one day his father would show up to drag him home to his work.

“I suppose I could go,” offered Elizabeth, “but you know I wouldn’t be much help if I got my usual spring attack of bronchitis.”

Laura did want to see the site, but she certainly didn’t want to leave right now to be gone for a whole month. She’d been hoping every day that James would come calling again. He had been so helpful, and she was almost certain that he really liked her. Or was he friendly to everyone who came to Queenston? She wasn’t going to act silly, like Mira, and show her feelings, but she did want to be here when he came by. If only he had a store in Queenston, she could casually drop in to see him. This waiting was bothering her. It had been a week now since he had brought the last load of supplies and stayed to chat with everyone for the whole evening. He had talked with her more than Father, but then the whole family had been there.

“And what about you, Laura?” Father was staring at her with his head tilted sideways. “Will you go with me?”

Laura had been thinking so hard about James that she had lost track of the conversation. “If I must,” she stammered, “but we just got here.”

“Why, Laura, that’s a switch. I thought you were anxious to see the site.” Father’s shoulders dropped and his eyes looked tired. Laura felt a twinge of guilt, but ignored the feeling and looked away from her father’s questioning eyes.

Sally was blinking back tears now. “You see, no one wants to go.”

Mira was still pouting and Elizabeth was teary-eyed.

“Oh, all right,” said Laura. “If you need me, I’ll go, but are there any close neighbours?”

“I don’t believe so. But I want to check that out.”

“How long will you be gone?” asked Sally.

“Two to three weeks—no longer. A portion of the land is already cleared. Joseph and the Mohawks used to camp there in the summer.”

Laura knew it might take longer than her father said and started to feel very disappointed that she wouldn’t be able to see James for so long. Noticing her downcast face, Father said, “I think I’ll take Bett along to cook for me, since none of you girls seems up to the job.”

Maybe that was the answer, Laura decided, and maybe Sam could go, too, but then that would leave the women folk alone in an unfamiliar place. She didn’t suppose Father would approve of that. She knew then that she must go.

“Oh, all right,” she said reluctantly. “I’ll go.”

***

The path beneath the chestnut mare’s feet was knotted with tree roots and covered with old leaves from the previous autumn. Laura got a good look at them when the occasional shaft of light filtered through the oaks and maples onto the forest floor. The day was hot, even for early June, and Laura was tired. She did not feel very confident, either. Behind her, two of Captain Brant’s sons, Joseph and Jacob, led two horses that were carrying supplies. Ahead, she could make out the forms of her father and Captain Brant. Father was wearing dark woollen breeches and a light linen shirt and waistcoat over his slightly stooped shoulders. Captain Brant sat tall in his saddle and wore an open yellow-beaded shirt, tied at the waist with a wide red sash that hung over his brown leather breeches.

Laura had not wanted to leave Queentston but had known that her father needed her to accompany him to the site of their new home on the La Tranche River. They had been away for three long weeks and were finally returning.

Father and Captain Brant had built a large one-room log cabin about twenty feet long and sixteen feet wide. And Captain Brant’s Mohawk friends had come for a day to add some finishing touches. They split oak logs for the floor and built in bunk beds in three corners of the big cabin. Then, with Father’s help, Captain Brant built the large fireplace in the opening on the north wall. The hearth of flat stones was backed by large field stones piled vertically as high as the wall and stuck together with hardened clay. The cabin even had one small window beside the door on the south wall. It was made from glass and putty that Father had bought at James’s store.

While the men were building the cabin, Laura had been busy preparing meals on the outside hearth that was set up beside the canvas tent where they kept their supplies. The tent was also Laura’s bedroom. At the end of each day, it felt good to lie there, for even the ground seemed restful, and she could hear the gurgling of the river flowing along.

At first, Laura had been very lonely, but then Captain Brant’s sons, Joseph and Jacob, had come to help. They had both graduated recently from Dartmouth College in Connecticut and spoke English well. They had all become good friends, and the brothers had taught Laura how to trap small animals, and how to use herbs for medicine. She was no longer lonely and enjoyed the last week more than before.

But this afternoon, they were headed back and already things were starting to change. The Brant boys were talking together in their own language, and Father and Captain Brant were discussing political matters. She felt very alone again, just like a piece of excess baggage.

Dusk fell and still they kept on. Laura felt tired and ill at ease, especially when strange hooting sounds and the noise of breaking twigs started coming out of the trees on either side of the narrow trail.

Just as it was getting nearly too dark to see, they came out of the woods and into the clearing around a familiar small frame house. It was Captain Brant’s home, where they had stayed on their way out to the site. Joseph Brant led them past the house and down the path to the Grand River, where he dismounted. Laura wanted to get off her horse, but she felt too tired to jump down. Fortunately, Father noticed she wasn’t moving and helped her. Joseph and Jacob led all the horses to the water’s edge. The tired animals dipped their noses eagerly into the water.

Sore from her long ride, Laura left the men at the river and plodded along up the knoll to the house. She knew Captain Brant’s wife Catherine would have made up fresh beds and set out hot tea.

***

The next morning, Father wanted to get back on the trail as soon as possible. But Captain Brant insisted on showing him and Laura around the little settlement where he had brought the Mohawks who had fought with him for the British. The whole village consisted of only seven houses, a log schoolhouse, and a chapel. Laura wondered why Captain Brant had been so eager to show them the place. But then they came to the chapel. The high spire above its bell tower had round-arched openings in its sides, which matched the arches above the four windows on each side of the building and over the entranceway.

“Those arches would not be easy to build from planked logs,” Father remarked.

“That’s true,” Brant smiled, “but we had help for the design from two Loyalists, Wilson and Smith, who came to live in our Mohawk valley. And we worked very hard together to erect it. Our men squared the logs, boarded, and painted it. Then they fashioned the pews out of sawn logs joined by wooden pegs. We put our best effort into God’s house.”

Inside, the chapel was as spacious as a meadow. An aisle ran down the middle with pews on either side. At the front in the centre was a wide pulpit, divided for a speaker and an interpreter.

“The pulpit was built in the centre so that all could hear God’s message equally,” Joseph Brant explained. Behind the pulpit on the wall were large black tablets with gold print. In front of the pulpit was the communion table. As they went closer, Laura spotted a carved walnut box. Brant opened the box and showed them its contents.

“This is the Bible and part of the communion silver that Queen Anne of England sent to my people at the Queen Anne Chapel in New York in 1712. During the Revolutionary War, the Bible and the silver were buried for safekeeping. They were preserved, and we were able to bring them here to our new chapel.”

Laura looked more closely at the communion silver and saw that each bore the inscription:

“The gift of her Majesty Anne by the Grace of God, of Great Britain, France, and of Her plantations in North America, Queen to her Indian Chappel of the Mohawks.”

“Do you have your own minister now?” Thomas asked.

“We conduct our own service. I have translated the gospels and a prayer book into our language.”

“And how are your people adjusting to the new life here?”

“Well, it helps that we are together and that we have kept our own language, but our life is different here. The land on the Grand River is good for planting corn and other farming, but we cannot forget our great farms in the Mohawk Valley. Our farms were fruitful and plenteous with large apple orchards and flowing fields of corn. Many of these farms were burnt out by the Rebels in the Revolutionary War.”

“But now you are settled on your own land by the Grand River. Why can’t you farm your new land in the same way?”

“With what? We were not provided with farming tools and supplies for three years like the white Loyalists! So I tried to sell some of our land to get money to buy tools for our people to begin farming. They loathed the idea of selling any of our land, but when a man is starving ...” Joseph Brant stared ahead in silence.

Father said softly, “But when you sold the land, then did you buy the necessary tools?”

“Then I found out that we had not been given clear title to our land as the white men were! We could not sell any of it to buy tools or anything else. We continued to struggle on with only limited resources from our hunting. Game is just not plentiful, for the animals are being driven north by the settlers who inhabit all the area around us. My people are still in great need and some are rebelling.” Captain Brant turned away then and quietly walked to the door.

***

In the early evening of the same day, Laura and Thomas Ingersoll sat on the deck of the schooner that sailed from Burlington Bay and would bring them the rest of the way home to Queenston.

“How are you, Laura?” Father said, looking at her intently.

“Fine, thank you. I’ve enjoyed this time with you, Father.”

“I have too, Laura. I’m sorry I was away from you so much during the war years. But I’ve always been proud of my daughters and thankful for all of you.”

“We missed you. Even after the war was over,” Laura said quietly.

“I know—it was a hard time—to make ends meet. Many men went under with the taxes. I saw what happened to their families when they were thrown in jail for debts. It would have been better if we had followed the way of the Mohawks—no jails.”

“That’s right. There was no jail at Brant’s Ford.”

“Captain Brant had harsh words to describe our jails and the white man’s cruel justice that was handed out to people who could not pay their debts. He felt the Mohawk way was better. They do deal with offenders, but they help those who cannot pay up when misfortune strikes.” Father’s face looked grim as he remembered incidents at Great Barrington. Then he continued, “I pledged I’d keep a roof over your heads. And I did.”