April came, and with it came the alarm of an intended invasion of Canada
by the Fenians. All the volunteers were ordered to be in immediate
readiness, and several companies were stationed at different places
along the Province Line, south of the River St. Lawrence. Every
precautionary preparation was being made by the Canadian government, and
also by the inhabitants. Great excitement prevailed during several days;
and a series of appalling rumors were daily in circulation. But April
passed away, and none of the Verdants made their appearance on the north
side of the Line 45. There was apparently a lull in the Fenian camp.
But on the morning of the 23rd of May following, the bugle again sounded
the alarm. Gen. O'Neill had again stirred up the "Circles" to their very
"Centres," and there was a fearful rattling among the dry bones. Every
telegram brought additional intelligence confirming the affair. The
march had in reality begun; and 50,000 men, as rumored, were marching
towards Canada, in a direct line to Montreal. All the volunteers in the
Province of Quebec were again called to arms, and every available
company forwarded at once to the chief stations at St. Johns,
Hemmingford, and Huntingdon. The 69th regiment of British regulars, then
stationed at Quebec, was ordered to the front immediately. The loyal
Canadian farmers in the vicinity of the Border line turned out at once;
and with rifle in hand, distributed themselves in detached parties to
watch and await the avowed enemies of their country; and defend their
hearths and households in the hour of danger.
The company to which Frederick Charlston belonged, had been ordered to
St. Johns. Fred was delightfully excited by the occurrence, which
afforded him an opportunity of realizing what he termed "_a novel and
romantic adventure_."
On the morning of the 25th of May, 1870, a detachment of Fenians, headed
by Gen. O'Neill, crossed over the Line in the vicinity of Eccles' Hill.
A company of farmers who had stationed themselves behind the rocks of
the hill, adjacent to the high-way, observed the approach of the enemy
sneaking along the road. When the Fenians had arrived within reach of
gun-shot, the farmers, unperceived, fired upon them, killing two or
more, and wounding several. The astonished Verdants at once replied by a
volley, but becoming disorderly bewildered by the incessant stream of
smoke and bullets from among the rocks, they hastily retreated to an
adjacent hill; and for several hours the opposing parties in ambush kept
up a continuous but ineffectual fire at each other. At length a few
detachments of Montreal volunteers and others arrived; and in
conjunction with the farmers, took part in the action. The Fenians
imagining that a formidable army had arrived, became panic-stricken and
fled, headed by their leaders, at quick march over the Border Line,
where the "Fenian Tragedy" was magnificently concluded by the
ludicrous farce of the Great O'Neill making a hasty exit as a "State
prisoner," under the confidential protection of Marshal Foster.
Simultaneously with this event, another squad of Green Jackets, headed
by Gen. Starr, intruded upon Canadian soil, twelve miles beyond
Huntingdon, and intrenched themselves about three-quarters of a mile
from the Border Line. There they remained until the morning of the 27th,
when they were speedily routed from their intrenchments and driven back
beyond the Line by the Huntingdon Borderers and the 69th British
Regiment.
The Battalions in this District, and upon whom the inhabitants had
chiefly to depend, were the "_Huntingdon Borderers_" and the
"_Hemmingford Rangers_," under their gallant commanders, Cols. McEachren
and Rogers, and to whose valorous energy and that of the heroic officers
and men under their charge, is the country in general deeply indebted.
Thus ended the Fenian invasion of 1870. Providentially not one of the
Canadian party received even the slightest injury. The volunteers were
immediately recalled, and peace was restored to the country.
Among those who took part in the action at Eccles' Hill was Fred
Charlston. He returned to Montreal, bearing along with him as trophies
of war, a Fenian coat, knapsack and rifle. So elated was he on the night
of his return by his fortunate and glorious adventure, that he with
several of his comrades got mortally drunk, so much so that he and two
others had to be taken to the police station for safe keeping, where
they remained until they became sobered off.
Frederick being somewhat of a poet, composed the following song in honor
of those Canadian Volunteers who were brought into action along the
Border.
OUR BORDER VOLUNTEERS.
All hail! our Border Volunteers,
All loyal, true and brave,
Who boldly faced the Fenian foe,
And spurn'd a coward's grave.
All hail to all those gallant chiefs,
Who stood the trying hour,
And bravely led their heroes forth
To crush the Fenians' power.
_Chorus._--Our country's foe we need not dread,
When danger's hour appears,
While guarded by those gallant braves,
Our Border Volunteers.
No menial soldier fills our ranks,
Nor yet a martial slave;
O'er free and independent men
Our banners proudly wave.
They are our country's stalwart sons,
Who love their home and hearth,
Who honour still their Fatherland,
And this which gave them birth.
_Chorus._--Our country's foe, &c.
'Tis not the savage thirst for blood
Which makes our heroes brave,
'Tis not for conquest and renown
Their banners proudly wave.
Their voice proclaims the love of peace,
To all an equal right,
But mercy spurn'd by reckless foes
Empowers their sword of might.
_Chorus._--Our country's foes, &c.
Trout River's banks and Eccles' Hill,
Shall echo forth their fame,
And thousands yet unborn will rise,
To shout our heroes' name.
They form the martial battlements
Of Canada's frontiers,
Those guardians of our household hearths,
THE BORDER VOUNTEERS.
_Chorus._--Our country's foes we need not dread,
When danger's hour appears,
While guarded by these gallant braves,
_Our Border Volunteers_.
The disturbance at Red River in the North-Western Territory, by the
revolt of Riel and his accomplices was also at this time attracting the
attention of the Canadian government. A force, consisting of regulars
and volunteers, had already been organized; and was to be despatched
immediately to Red River for the purpose of suppressing the
Riel-Rebellion.
The glory of warfare had aroused within the mind of Frederick Charlston
a love for adventure and a spirit of Canadian patriotism: and feeling a
desire to enlist as a roving soldier, he immediately, after his return
to Montreal, departed for Toronto, head-quarters for the Battalions
designed for Red River. A few healthy and well-disciplined volunteers
were still wanted; and Fred, having passed an examination, was initiated
into the ranks as a volunteer for Red River.
On the evening previous to his departure he retired to his room; and
having emptied a tumbler full of hot brandy punch, he sat down
gloriously happy, and penned the following letter to his parents.
"Toronto, June 7th, 1870.
"Dear Father and Mother,--As you may feel somewhat disposed by this
time to relish a bit of my history in Canada, I now, for the first
time, since I left home, lift my pen to address you. I shipped in
the S. S. Moravian from Liverpool, to Portland, U.S., and during
the voyage had to undergo the terrible ordeal of sea-sickness.
However, I arrived at Montreal on the evening of Christmas last, as
sound as a church bell. I found immediate employment in the city at
six shillings per day. I am partially fond of this country and the
inhabitants in general, with the exception of a sort of people
named French Kanucks; but they are as harmless as a flock of sheep;
and stand as mere cyphers in the ranks of society. Last winter I
joined a company of city volunteers; and was present at an
engagement with the Fenians at a place known as Eccles Hill, on the
25th ultimo, of which affair you will have heard by the London
papers. I went up boldly to the Front, and fought the Fenians like
a tiger. I don't know how many I killed; but I feel certain that I
must have annihilated quite a large number, as I fired away every
cartridge I had. I brought back with me to Montreal a Fenian-coat,
knapsack and rifle, &c. Since my return I have been lionized by my
officers and comrades for my daring exploits. The sun of fortune
has already begun to shine upon me; and I have determined that my
progress shall be in the ascendancy, until I arise to the very
zenith of my glory. I have just enlisted myself as a volunteer to
go over 2000 miles into the dense forests of Canada to fight the
savages of the North-West at Red River. I leave to-morrow. The
undertaking is gigantic, but the glory that shall arise therefrom
shall be immeasurably greater. Be not surprised should you hear of
me ere long being gazetted as commander of a battalion in the
North-Western Territory. On my return, to England, if ever, I shall
take my Fenian trophies along with me, and perhaps a few hundred of
Indian scalps, &c., as curiosities for my friends and old
acquaintances.
"Give my respects to none but those who inquire kindly about me. My
love to the little '_chick_.' He may live to be yet proud of his
father. I shall write again as soon as I get the savages disposed
of."
"Father, mother, sisters and brother, accept the expression of my
love. Farewell, farewell."
"Fred. Charlston."
The volunteers for Red River were forwarded from Toronto to Collingwood;
where they embarked on the steamers Algoma and Chigora; and proceeded
300 miles to Thunder Bay, on Lake Superior; thence by land and water
through a dense wilderness, several hundred miles, to Fort Garry, at Red
River. A prodigious undertaking, indeed, involving a vast amount of
labor and privation; nevertheless the majority of the troops endured it
tolerably well. During the first two or three weeks Fred Charlston stood
the hardships and inconveniences with a brave spirit, and enjoyed with
good relish the rough life of the military pioneer; so much so that he
gave expression to his patriotic feelings in the following song, which
he and his associates frequently sung with great gusto:--
Come now, my lads, we'll march along,
And wave our banners high,
The savage herds in forest wilds
Shall hear our battle-cry.
The distant realm before us lies,
The road is rough and drear,
O'er lake and stream thro' mountain wild
Our martial course we'll steer.
_Chorus._--Then march along, my hearty lads,
And cheer your hearts with song,
The nation cheers the Volunteers
Who bravely march along.
No scorching sun, no torrent shower,
No toil, nor want of rest,
Has power to check that British pluck
Which warms each loyal breast.
No savage of the woods we dread,
Nor death, nor danger near,
We are a nation's loyal sons
Who spurn a coward's fear.
_Chorus._--Then march along, &c.
That savage wretch with bloody hands,
Usurping in his might,
Shall keenly feel a nation's steel
That justifies its right.
"_Revenge_" shall be our battle-cry,
Revenge the bloody foe:
Fort Garry's walls with tongues of blood,
Shall echo back the blow.
_Chorus._--Come march along, "my hearty lads,"
And shout the martial song.
The nation cheers the Volunteers
Who bravely march along.