Laura Secord, the Heroine of 1812 | Page 5

in the
country. [Footnote: The American sentries were out ten miles into the
country; that is, at any point commanding a possible line of
communication within a radius of ten miles from Fort George, Mrs.
Secord might come upon an American sentry. The deep woods,
therefore, were her only security. These she must thread to the best of
her ability, with what knowledge she might possess of the woodman's
craft, for even a blazed path was not safe. And by this means she must
get out of American cover and into British lines. To do this she must
take a most circuitous route, as she tells us, all round "by Twelve-mile
Creek," whose port is St. Catharines, climbing the ridge that is now cut
through by the Welland Canal, and thus doubling upon what would
have been the straight route, and coming on Fitzgibbon from the back,
from the way of his supports, for Major de Haren lay at Twelve-mile
Creek, but not within several miles of where the heroine crossed it. And
it was dark, and within a few hours of the intended surprise when she
reached it. To go to De Haren, even though it might have been nearer at
that point--it may not have been so, however--was a greater risk to
Fitzgibbon, whose safety she was labouring to secure, than to send him
aid which might only reach him after the event. Forgetting her
exhaustion she proceeds, fulfils her errand, and saves her country.
_And shall that country let her memory die_?] When I came to a field
belonging to a Mr. De Cou, in the neighbourhood of the Beaver Dams,
I then had walked nineteen miles. By that time daylight had left me. I
yet had a swift stream of water (Twelve-mile Creek) to cross over on an
old fallen tree, and to climb a high hill, which fatigued me very much.
"Before I arrived at the encampment of the Indians, as I approached
they all arose with one of their war yells, which, indeed, awed me. You
may imagine what my feelings were to behold so many savages. With
forced courage I went to one of the chiefs, told him I had great news for

his commander, and that he must take me to him or they would all be
lost. He did not understand me, but said, 'Woman! What does woman
want here?' The scene by moonlight to some might have been grand,
but to a weak woman certainly terrifying. With difficulty I got one of
the chiefs to go with me to their commander. With the intelligence I
gave him he formed his plans and saved his country. I have ever found
the brave and noble Colonel Fitzgibbon a friend to me. May he prosper
in the world to come as he has done in this.
"LAURA SECORD.
"CHIPPEWA, U.C., Feb. 18, 1861."
Mr. Lossing further adds in his letter to me:
"When, in the summer of 1860, the Prince of Wales visited Queenston
the veteran soldiers of the Canada side of the Niagara frontier signed an
address to his Royal Highness; Mrs. Secord claimed the privilege of
signing it. 'Wherefore?' was asked. She told her story, and it was
allowed that she eminently deserved a place among the signers. Her
story was repeated to the Prince. He was greatly interested, and
learning that the heroine had not much of this world's goods, sent her
$500 soon after his return home, in attestation of his appreciation of her
patriotism."
Her sole surviving daughter at this date, says the gift was carried to her
mother by ten gentlemen who had formed part of the Prince's suite.
A correspondent at Drummondville, to whom I am indebted for several
Valuable particulars, says: "Mrs. Laura Second is remembered here as a
fine, tall, strong woman. Strong, too, in mind, purpose, determination,
and yet womanly and maternal withal. She is spoken of as _indeed a
brave woman_, of strong patriotism and courage.
"The difficulties and dangers then, were those of anew, uncleared,
pathless country increased by lurking foes, and by wandering, untaught
Indians.

"In connection with her chief act of heroism the following anecdote has
been told me:--Three American soldiers called at her log house at
Queenston to ask for water. One of them said, 'You have a nice place
here, missis, when we come for good to this country we'll divide the
land, and I'll take this here for my share.' Mrs. Secord was so nettled by
the thoughts expressed that although the men were civil and respectful,
she replied sharply, 'You scoundrel you, all you'll ever get here will be
six feet of earth!'
"When they were gone her heart reproached her for her heat, because
the men had not molested her nor her property." (Yet her indignation