The morning had ended most disastrously for the British. The beloved and trusted general was still in death, and near him lay his friend and aide-de-camp, mortally wounded. All along the line from Fort George to Erie, the evil tidings sped. How the news of defeat was brought to Fort Erie is told {307} by an officer[3] of the 100th stationed there. He relates how on the morning of October 13th the booming of distant artillery was faintly heard. Hunger and fatigue were no longer remembered, and the men were ordered to turn out under arms, and were soon on their way to the batteries opposite the enemy's station at Black Rock. The letter continues:-- "We had not assumed our position long, when an orderly officer of the Provincial Dragoons rode up and gave the information that the enemy were attempting to cross at Queenston, and that we must annoy them by every means in our power along the whole line, as was being done from Niagara to Queenston. The command was no sooner given than, bang, went off every gun we had in position. The enemy's guns were manned and returned the fire, and the day's work was begun. It was about two o'clock in the afternoon when another dragoon, not wearing sword or helmet, bespattered horse and man with foam and mud, rode up. Said an old 'green tiger'[4] to me, 'Horse and man jaded, sir, depend upon it he brings bad news' 'Step down and see what news he brings.' Away my veteran doubles and soon returns. I knew from poor old Clibborn's face something dreadful had occurred. 'What news, Clibborn--what news, man?' I said, as he advanced toward {308} the battery that was still keeping up a brisk fire. "Clibborn walked on, perfectly unconscious of the balls that were ploughing up the ground around him. He uttered not a word, but shook his head. The pallor and expression of his countenance indicated the sorrow of his soul. I could stand it no longer. I placed my hand on his shoulder. 'For heaven's sake, tell us what you know.' In choking accents he revealed his melancholy information. 'General Brock is killed, the enemy has possession of Queenston Heights.' Every man in the battery was paralyzed. They ceased firing. A cheer from the enemy on the opposite side of the river recalled us to our duty. They had heard of their success down the river. "Our men who had in various ways evinced their feelings, some weeping, some swearing, some in mournful silence, now exhibited demoniac energy. The heavy guns were loaded, traversed and fired as if they were field pieces. 'Take your time, men, don't throw away your fire, my lads.' 'No, sir, but we will give it to them hot and heavy.' All the guns were worked by the forty men of my company as if they wished to avenge the death of their beloved chief."[5]