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Jest, quip and lively saying shortened his route to the doorway of the Circuit Court, and he insisted on Chrysler's passing to his quarters upstairs. The court-room was stocked with dusty benches and tables, on and about which a small but noisy company were postured. One reckless fellow swinging an ale-mug was singing: "Tant qu'on le pourra, larirette, On se damnera, larir
The collision took place at Chrysler's Farm, a name thenceforth of potent memory. The battle-ground was an open field, with the river on the right, the woods on the left. For two hours the conflict raged. But Canadian valour and discipline prevailed over twofold odds, and the Americans retreated to their boats, leaving behind one of their guns captured by the British.
Another of Chrysler's theories too was exploded. He had long revolved a suspicion that it was Cuiller who had stolen Francois' $750. "Where else," thought he, "does he get these liberal sums to spend?"
The Ontarian was surprised at his odd, machine-like accuracy, but Haviland only laughed a little chuckle and Chrysler's glance was drawn away towards a figure entering the gate, walking abstractedly, his hands in his hip pockets and eyes on the path. He was of slender but agile person, the decision which marked every movement showing his consciousness of latent activity.
Boyd on November 10th, 1813, was with them on the next day, the 11th, when they fought the enemy five hours at Chrysler's farm in Canada. The Americans were driven from the field with a loss of three hundred and thirty-nine. The writer must pause a moment to mention some of the stirring incidents in which Fernando did not participate. On March 4th, 1813, Mr.
NATION-MAKING, we know in general. But what was the work upon which he was employed as the means? On the occasion of one of Chrysler's quiet entries, Haviland rose from his table as the light began to fall, threw off his toils with a breath of relief, and turning towards the older gentleman, called his attention to a large green tin case of pigeon-holes and drawers of different sizes, labelled.
I said nothing and walked away, but have always remembered his counsel, there was so much of his big heart in it. The army was to move immediately, in that foolish campaign of Wilkinson that ended with disaster at Chrysler's Farm. They were making the boats, small craft with oars, of which three hundred or more would be needed to carry us.
After this, occurred the historic battle of Chrysler's Farm, on the St. Lawrence, when 2,000 U.S. regulars under General Boyd, with six field-guns, were routed, with a loss of 102 killed and 237 wounded, by a force composed of 380 regulars, militia and Indians, under Colonel Morrison, and driven back into American territory.
And of his eldest son, Lieutenant John Nairne of the 19th Regiment of Foot, who fell a victim to the climate of India when returning with the victorious troops from the capture of Seringapatam in the 21st year of his age; also of his youngest son, Captain Thomas Nairne, of the 49th Regiment of Foot who bravely fell at the head of his Company in the Battle at Chrysler's Farm in Upper Canada November 11, 1813, aged 26 years.
The book was taken up once more, and slamming it down again with all its force, the good curé turned and waddled from the pulpit. Since the first moments when Chrysler's eyes rested on the village of Dormillière from the steamer's deck, the observations of the place and its people were to him a piquant and suggestive study. He had been there but a few hours when he discovered its central fact.
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