Title

Battle of Stoney Creek

Description

en-CA Battle of Stoney Creek as told by Elizabeth Gage Birley from an account in the Hamilton Spectator, June 13, 1889. Text by Murray Killman

Identifier

http://www.nflibrary.ca/nfplindex/show.asp?b=1&ref=oo&id=344919

page

clipping

Bibliographic Citation

10185110

transcript of

A description of the Battle of Stoney Creek, reported by Murray Killman, based on an interview of Elizabeth Gage Birley from the Hamilton Spectator, June 13, 1889.


SHE WAS AT THE BATTLE

What little Elizabeth Gage saw at Stoney Creek.


Interesting sidelights thrown upon the conflict by the story of the last surviving witness of these stirring scenes.

Information about a battle that occurred seventy-six years ago does not exactly come under the head of "news," but at this time, when the Wentworth Pioneer and Historical Society is engaged in the interesting work of collecting data regarding the battle of Stoney Creek, an interview with the only known survivor who was present at the time of the conflict my be read with interest. Through some curious combination of circumstances the records of this important engagement are very meager, and in many histories the affair has been entirely overlooked, not withstanding its far reaching results, and the society is undertaking a much needed work in collecting the material for an authentic account of it.


The only person now living who was present at the time of the battle, which occurred an hour before daylight on June 6, 1813 is Mrs. Birley, of this city, daughter of James Gage, on whose farm the battle was fought. Mr. Gage was a United Empire Loyalist, who came to this country from Pennsylvania with his mother after the close of the American Revolution and settled at Stony Creek. His daughter, Mrs. Birley, was seen by a reporter yesterday at the residence of her grandson, Lewis D. Birley, corner of Hunter and Charles streets. The old lady is eighty-five years of age, and though only nine years old at the time of the battle she remembers distinctly many of the incidents connected with that stirring time as well as other information which she got from her parents about the battle in after years. She is now in rather feeble health, but she brightened up wonderfully when the reporter spoke about the battle and she wanted to know if any of his ancestors had been "in the fight?" " I have often wondered," said Mrs. Birley, "that more has not been written about that battle. It caused a dreadful excitement among the settlers in these parts at the time, but other important wars were going on at that time and all the attention seemed to be directed to them. Yes, I remember the battle and some of the incidents connected with it quite well, though I was but a little girl at the time. Our house was right on the battlefield and some of the American Officers were staying there.

I remember well how the night before the battle a couple of generals came riding up to the place on big horses. They were very proud and braggy, and told some of us the old man (my father) would be shot in the morning if we didn't look out.

They ordered the men to let down the fences for them, so that they could ride into the meadow where the soldiers were. The cellar of my father's house was full of all sorts of provisions, enough to do the family during the year, and the soldiers made free with everything. In the house were a number of bags of flour, and there were twenty barrels of whiskey in the cellar, all of which they took. The soldiers killed all the cows and sheep they could lay their eyes on. No wonder, either, for the poor fellows were the most miserable, half-starved lot I ever saw. We were really sorry for them. The officers who stayed at our house were quite kind and friendly, and we got on first rate with them. They brought their own cooks with them, but they used everything about the house, and the soldiers carried away the quilts and forks and spoons to their camp.

I remember the night of the battle distinctly. What a yelling and shouting there was! The officers rushed out of the house when the noise commenced, and soon some of the soldiers came running in. I well remember how scared they were. They thought it was the Indians, from the yelling, and were afraid of being tomahawked. You know in those days people were far more scared of the Indians than they are now, and these people being in the enemy's country, and knowing the Indians were on the British side, were mortally scared of them. When the firing commenced, my mother looked around for some place to put us children out of harm's way. It was a large log house, with a loft above the living rooms, and in the loft was stored all the wool that had been sheared that summer, so she took us up there and made us lay down among the wool. I remember it so well. Every little while a bullet would hit the house, but they did not go through the logs, and we were safe. When daylight came and all the shooting was over, I went out in front of the house. There was the body of a soldier lying between the house and the creek and a lot of dead horses. I plainly remember seeing the blankets that the American soldiers had been sleeping on lying in rows on the hillside just where they were sleeping when the surprise came. I thought at the time they looked like a flock of sheep on the green hill. After the battle my brother Asal Gage, and another man gathered up the bodies on an ox-sled and buried them.

The settlers came pouring in from the back country in crowds as soon as they heard of the victory, and I remember them coming to look at the bullet marks in our house. They carried home with them all they could carry of the blankets and things that the American soldiers had left. Among the stuff taken was a lot of quilts and things belonging to us, and months afterwards they brought some of them back when they found they were ours.

During the battle a neighbor named Henderson was running away with one of his children in his arms, and he got three bullets through his clothes, but was not hurt. There was a story told for many years after the battle that my father found the paymaster's saddle-bags in the well after the battle, but that was all nonsense. The soldiers drank our well dry, though. Our house was turned into a regular hospital after the battle and the doctors got my mother and grandmother to pick lint for the wounded."

James Gage's house was a stopping place for travelers in those days, especially itinerant preachers, who at that early day supplied the sparse collection of settlers to this part of the country with all the spiritual nutriment they received. Mr. Gage was known for his hospitality to these preachers, most of whom were Methodists, and he related that when the Indians visited his place, which they did frequently, the untutored children of the forest would try to make themselves solid by asserting, "Me good Injun -- me Methodiss." Mr. Gage was known far and wide among the Indians as "Uncle Jimmie," and his kindness to the Indians caused his house to be regarded as sort of rendezvous for the scattered bands much the same as Johnson Hall, on the Mohawk, was the resort of the Iroquois.

October 15, 2010