Off the coast of Brittany, where the Bay of Biscay fights the white horses of the North Sea, the Island of Guernsey rides at anchor. Its black and yellow, red and purple coast-line, summer and winter, is awash with surf, burying the protecting reefs in a smother of foam. Between these drowned ridges of despair, which warn the toilers of the sea of an intention to engulf them, tongues of ocean pierce the grim chasms of the cliffs.

Between this and the sister island of Alderney the teeth of the Casquets cradle the skeleton of many a stout ship, while above the level of the sea the amethyst peaks of Sark rise like phantom bergs. In the sunlight the rainbow-coloured slopes of Le Gouffre jut upwards a jumble of glory. Exposed to the full fury of an Atlantic gale, these islands are well-nigh obliterated in drench. From where the red gables cluster on the heights of Fort George, which overhang the harbour, to the thickets of Jerbourg, valley and plain, at the time we write of, were a gorgeous carpet of anemones, daffodils, primroses and poppies.

View of St. Peter's Port, Guernsey

"View of St. Peter's Port, Guernsey, 18 x 6"

These are tumultuous latitudes. Sudden hurricanes, with the concentrated force of the German Ocean behind them, soon scourge the sea into a whirlpool and extinguish every landmark in a pall of gray. For centuries tumult and action have been other names for the Channel Islands. It is no wonder that the inhabitants partake of the nature of their surroundings. Contact with the elements produces a love for combat. As this little book is largely a record of strife, and of one of Guernsey's greatest fighting sons, it may be well to recall the efforts that preceded the birth of our hero and influenced his career, and through which Guernsey retained its liberties.

For centuries Guernsey had been whipped into strife. From the raid upon her independence by David Bruce, the exiled King of Scotland, early in 1300, on through the centuries up to the seventeenth, piping times of peace were few and far between. The resources of the island led to frequent invasions from France, but while fighting and resistance did not impair the loyalty of the islanders, it nourished a love of freedom, and of hostility to any enemy who had the effrontery to assail it. As a rule the sojourn of these invaders was brief. When sore pressed in a pitched battle on the plateau above St. Peter's Port, the inhabitants would retreat behind the buttresses of Castle Cornet, when, as in the invasion by Charles V. of France, the fortress proving impregnable, the besiegers would collect their belongings and sail away.

In the fourteenth century Henry VI. of England, in consideration of a red rose as annual rental, conveyed the entire group to the Duke of Warwick. But strange privileges were from time to time extended to these audacious people. Queen Elizabeth proclaimed the islands a world's sanctuary, and threw open the ports as free harbours of refuge in time of war. She authorized protection to "a distance on the ocean as far as the eye of man could reach." This act of grace was cancelled by George the Third, who regarded it as a premium on piracy. In Cromwell's time Admiral Blake had been instructed to raise the siege of Castle Cornet. He brought its commander to his senses, but only after nine years of assault, and not before 30,000 cannon-balls had been hurled into the town.

Late in the fourteenth century, when the English were driven out of France, not a few of those deported, who had the fighting propensity well developed, made haste for the Channel Islands, where rare chances offered to handle an arquebus for the King. Among those who sought refuge in Guernsey there landed, not far from the Lion's Rock at Cobo, an English knight, Sir Hugh Brock, lately the keeper of the Castle of Derval in Brittany, a man "stout of figure and valiant of heart." This harbour of refuge was St. Peter's Port.

The islet that broke the Atlantic rollers was Castle Cornet. Sir Hugh Brock, or Badger in the ancient Saxon time—an apt name for a tenacious fighter—shook hands with fate. He espied the rocky cape of St. Jerbourg, and ofttimes from its summit he would shape bold plans for the future, the maturing of which meant much to those of his race destined to follow.

The commercial growth of the Channel Islands has been divided into five periods, those of fishing, knitting (the age of the garments known as "jerseys" and "guernseys"), privateering, smuggling, and agriculture and commerce. To the third period belong these records. The prosperity of the islands was greatest from the middle of the seventeenth century up to the overthrow of Napoleon at Waterloo and the close of Canada's successful fight against invasion in 1815. During this period the building of ships for the North Atlantic and Newfoundland trade opened new highways for commerce, but the greatest factor in this development was the "reputable business" of privateering, which must not be confounded either with buccaneering or yard-arm piracy. It was only permitted under regular letters of marque, was ranked as an honorable occupation, and those bold spirits, the wild "beggars of the sea"—who preferred the cutlass and a roving commission in high latitudes to ploughing up the cowslips in the Guernsey valleys, or knitting striped shirts at home—were recognized as good fighting men and acceptable enemies.

Trade in the islands, consequent upon the smuggling that followed and the building of many ships, produced much wealth, creating a class of newly rich and with it some "social disruption."

Notable in the "exclusive set," not only on account of his athletic figure and handsome face, but for his winning manners and ability to dance, though but a boy, was Isaac Brock. Isaac—a distant descendant of bold Sir Hugh—was the eighth son of John Brock, formerly a midshipman in the Royal Navy, a man of much talent and, like his son, of great activity. Brock, the father, did not enjoy the fruit of his industry long, for in 1777, in his 49th year, he died in Brittany, leaving a family of fourteen children. Of ten sons, Isaac, destined to become "the hero and defender of Upper Canada," was then a flaxen-haired boy of eight.

Anno Domini 1769 will remain a memorable one in the history of the empire. Napoleon, the conqueror of Europe, and Wellington, the conqueror of Napoleon, were both sons of 1769. This same year Elizabeth de Lisle, wife of John Brock, of St. Peter's Port, bore him his eighth son, the Isaac referred to, also ordained to become "a man of destiny." Isaac's future domain was that greater, though then but little known, dominion beyond the seas, Canada—a territory of imperial extent, whose resources at that time came within the range of few men's understanding. Isaac Brock, as has been shown, came of good fighting stock, was of clean repute and connected with most of the families of high degree on the Island. The de Beauvoirs, Saumarez, de Lisles, Le Marchants, Careys, Tuppers and many others distinguished in arms or diplomacy, were his kith and kin. His mind saturated with the stories of the deeds of his ancestors, and possessed of a spirit of adventure developed by constant contact with soldiers and sailors, it was but natural that he became cast in a fighting mould and that "to be a soldier" was the height of his ambition.

Perhaps Isaac Brock's chief charm, which he retained in a marked degree in after life—apart from his wonderful thews and sinews, his stature and athletic skill—was his extreme modesty and gentleness. The fine old maxim of the child being "father to the man" in his case held good.