It was not, however, until war was regarded as unavoidable, and not until after he was promoted to be a major-general and appointed President and Administrator of Upper Canada, as successor to Governor Gore, that Isaac Brock became reconciled to life in Canada, and with set purpose assumed the duties of his high calling. * * * * * Our hero had passed his _third_ milestone. FOOTNOTE: [2] Miss Carnochan, as the Curator of the Niagara Historical Society the custodian of many relics of the war of 1812, has in her keeping this identical cocked hat. It arrived "shortly after Brock's death, and was given by his nephew to Mr. George Ball, near whose residence the 49th was stationed. The hat measures twenty-four inches inside, and was used at the funeral obsequies of 1824 and 1853, when many old soldiers requested, and were permitted, to try it on." The usage that the cocked hat then received has not improved its appearance. CHAPTER XII. MAJOR-GENERAL BROCK, GOVERNOR OF UPPER CANADA. The appointment of Brock--with his exceptional military attainments--to the chief command in Upper Canada, at the point of greatest danger, was a rare piece of good fortune for the colony. Of the American military leaders, Generals Howe, Dearborn and Wadsworth were all examples of a common standard; even Sir George Prevost, the new Governor-General of Canada and Commander-in-Chief, was tuned in a minor key. Isaac Brock was the man of the hour. His star was in the ascendant. Queen Victoria's father, the Duke of Kent, was anxious to meet the soldier whose despatches had stirred the War Office. The Duke of York was ready to give him a brigade under Wellington, while the Governor of Jamaica, the Duke of Manchester, then touring Canada, begged Brock, whom he looked upon as a "universal provider," to equip him with canoes and guides for a western pilgrimage. If Brock's promotion brought him distinction it also brought him work--Executive Councils, court-martials, reorganization of militia, reconstruction of the ruined forts on the Niagara frontier, the building of gunboats, the making of roads. Never idle. To-day he was inspecting a camp of the 49th at Three Rivers, near Montreal; next week at Fort Erie. Ever busy, ever buoyant. Whether perusing documents, scouring the muddy roads at Queenston, surveying the boundaries of the dreaded Black Swamp, or visiting the points between Fort George and Vrooman's battery on his slashing gray charger, he had a smile and cheery word for everyone. As for Dobson, his profound awe at his master's progress was only equalled by his devotion, that increased with the illness that threatened his life; while the faithful sergeant-major, now Captain FitzGibbon, in command of a company of the 49th, was reflecting great credit on his patron. But no matter what the tax on his time, Isaac never neglected the "beloved brothers."