One grand evidence of the deep rooted sentiment that actuates Fenianism
in the great Irish American heart, is to be found in the fact, that at
the time of the Pittsburgh Convention, the Organization was in debt,
and that within the brief space intervening between that period and the
invasion of Canada, the Brotherhood armed and equipped thousands upon
thousands of their number, and still had not expended the last dollar
in their treasury. This is, of itself, a most significant fact, and one
that goes far to exalt the Irish element on this continent in the eyes
of both soldiers, citizens and statesmen. The abiding faith of our
people in the justice of their cause, and the fixed conviction that it
shall one day triumph, enable them to deal with reverses and opposition
in a manner at once intelligent, dignified and philosophic. They know
that repeated failures have been the crucible in which the holiest and
the most successful projects have been tried in all ages; and, like that
of the spider of Bruce, the heart never fails within them. Amongst them,
too, were found upon the eve of their descent upon the Province, as
well as long previous to it, men of undoubted patriotism, genius and
chivalry. And at no point was this more obvious than at Buffalo. We say,
more obvious, for we know that scarce a city, town or village in the
State, and far and wide outside it, but contained just us good men and
true as were possessed by Buffalo; but we refer to it thus particularly,
as it is more immediately connected with our tale. We could mention many
names as sterling in every relation as those we now introduce; but none,
we apprehend, more intimately blended with the actual descent of the
brave O’Neill upon Canada, save the handful of heroes who joined him
in that proud and daring expedition; and none which, in the hour of
the sorest need of the Organization, sacrificed more for the sake of
Ireland.
When the moment was considered ripe for the movement, then, the eyes of
the Fenian authorities were turned towards Buffalo, and other points
on the frontier lying close upon the Canadian borders. In this city,
Francis B. Gallagher, Esq., and five or six others were regarded as
marked personages towards which a peculiar portion of the movement
should gravitate before finally crossing the lines. These gentlemen,
from their independent circumstances, excellent social standing and
undoubted patriotism, were regarded as pillars of strength upon which
the expedition might properly lean for a moment, and adjust itself
before attempting to cross the Rubicon and enter the country of the
enemy. There were more, also, in this city, who evinced a spirit of the
truest love of Ireland upon that occasion, as upon all previous once,
and who assisted in forwarding the grand objects of the organization
to the utmost stretch of their abilities, but as their names are too
numerous to mention here, and as they had their counterpart, as they
have to-day, in various localities throughout the Union, we shall merely
note the circumstance of their existence. As to the Brotherhood in
its military aspect here, no portion of the State or Union was better
represented in this connection, or more competent to distinguish itself
upon the field. Its civil relations, also, were equally creditable; Mr.
Gallagher, as the period for action approached, becoming active, anxious
and restless; devoting his time assiduously to the affairs of the
Brotherhood, and constantly communicating with headquarters on some
point of importance. And thus affairs stood when the first draft of
men arrived in the city under Senator Bannon, of Louisville, Ky., and
Senator Fitzgerald, of Cincinnati, and when the movement on Canada might
be said to have fairly commenced.
Soon, however, it began to be discovered that, although Buffalo, and
other places, were alive to their duty and ready to contribute their
quota to the expedition, there was a screw loose somewhere; and on the
evening of the thirty-first of May, it was ascertained that, although
numbers of volunteers had arrived from various points, through the
unfortunate neglect or incapacity of the then Secretary of War, there
was no one to command them. This was a dreadful state of affairs indeed,
and one which admits of no palliation. It was expected that General
Lynch, or some other distinguished officer, would take charge of the
expedition from this point; but that gallant and experienced soldier,
owing to the receipt of incorrect orders, did not arrive in time to
assume the command. Up to this point, and for some time previously,
matters had been conducted in a manner so careless by the War
Department, that the mere casual observer might reasonably presume some
parties connected with it courted failure. Arms and ammunition had been
despatched to the frontier without due precaution, and to parties to
whom they ought not have been transmitted, for various reasons. Again,
the massing of forces at the various points of debarkation was neither
compact nor simultaneous,--a circumstance which occasioned so much
delay, that the American government could not possibly close their eyes
to the fact of the invasion, without compromising themselves before
the world. Had one simultaneous and compact movement characterized the
expedition, the American authorities would never have interfered with
it; but when it was rubbed under their nose for days, through the
blundering or criminality of those who undertook to direct it from the
War Department, what was to have been expected other than is now known
to have occurred?
In addition to this, no transport had been actually secured for the
troops that had arrived at Buffalo, and the dilemma was intensified
to the extremest pitch. What ship-owner, in the face of such bungling,
would run the risk of placing any of his vessels at the disposal of a
party so uncomfortably situated? That was a question which presented
itself at the last moment, and which was more easily put than answered.
When all was dark and uncertain, however, and when the heart of many
began to fail, in stepped the gallant O’Neill upon the platform,
offering to command the expedition. He had arrived previously from
Nashville, Tenn., with his contingent, and felt how dreadful the
position in which the project was placed. A council of war was held,
at which Captain Hynes was present; and as this latter gentleman had
delegated authority from Gen. Sweeney, Colonel O’Neill--now General--was
at once placed in command. So far so good; but how were the troops to
get across the river? The interrogatory, as already observed, was a
perplexing one; but it was instantly solved by Mr. Gallagher and one or
two other gentlemen, who voluntarily, and at the imminent risk of every
dollar they possessed, pledged all they were worth in the world, and
procured the necessary means for crossing the river, and landing the
first instalment of the army of the Irish Republic upon British soil.
The number of men assembled at Buffalo on the night already mentioned
was about eight hundred,--being detachments from the following
regiments:--13th Infantry, Colonel John O’Neill; 17th Infantry, Colonel
Owen Stan; 18th Infantry, Lieutenant Colonel Grace; 7th Infantry,
Colonel John Hoy, and two companies from Indiana, under Captain
Haggerty; but the number of men that could be gotten together when the
expedition crossed did not exceed six hundred.
An authentic report of this brief but glorious campaign will be found at
the close of this work. We introduce it as historical information, from
a most unerring source. The subject, it will be perceived, is treated
in the most impartial and unimpassioned manner; dealing simply in dry
details, and in that curt, soldier-like matter of fact style, which aims
at nothing like effect, and seeks only to recount circumstances as they
occurred, and that, too, in the briefest possible manner.
Scarcely had the last boat, with the invading expedition, pushed off
from the American shore, on the night of the 31st of May, already
mentioned, when another craft, pulled by two men, its only occupants,
followed in the wake of the receding troops, dropping a little further
down the river, as it neared the Canadian side. From their dress and
appearance, the rowers might have been recognized by many a Buffalonian,
as Black Jack and the Kid, who were evidently bent upon dogging the
invaders, and, while keeping at a safe distance, dealing in such plunder
on their outskirts as might swell their own villainous coffers, while
the criminality should attach to the Fenians. This course was prompted
on their part by a sort of blind, bull-dog adherence to everything
English, and a hope of picking up in the red trail of the campaign such
valuables as would increase their already large though ill-gotten store.
On reaching the Canadian shore, both these worthies, who had but a few
nights previously conveyed Kate across the Niagara, set out for the
village of Fort Erie, which lay about four miles up the river, and which
they did not wish to approach directly from the American side, but creep
towards in the rear of the moving mass.
Under no circumstances does the human wolf exhibit itself to such
monstrous intensity as under those of war. Not the wolf in the uniform
of the soldier, for, let him be as blood-thirsty as he may, he buys, on
the field, to some extent at least, the right to be savage. The current
coin in which he deals is human gore; and in this relation he freely
exchanges with his antagonist the circulating medium, and gives or
takes, as the necessities of the moment may demand. He stands a nine-pin
on the great bowling-alley of the field, and takes his chance of being
knocked down in common with his opponent, who occupies a precisely
similar position. He offers life for life; and, lamentable as the
doctrine may be, he seems licensed to plunder, and, if needs be, kill.
Here, of course, we speak of the mere hireling, who has no higher object
before him than that of simple gain--who is actuated solely by a sordid
love of gold--whose soul and body are as purchasable as a pound of beef
in the shambles, and who is moved by the wretched pulses of mammon only.
Such an one, although low in the scale of humanity, and unworthy
of being mentioned in the same breath with the glorious patriot who
unsheathes his sword for Father-land, Liberty and Heaven, is an angel
of light compared with the lynx-eyed, dastardly prowler, who, when the
heart of his quarry has been stilled by some other hand, gropes, gloved
with clotted sore, among the mangled remains for the booty he never
earned; or who, when the thunder of the field, or the onward course of
a victorious army lays waste the fair land, takes advantage of the dread
and confusion of the inhabitants, and gorges himself with plunder, as
though he were a victor to whom should belong the spoils. Such wreckers
of the dead are the ghouls of our race; and never had they more faithful
representatives than the two villains who, in due course, mingled with
the invaders in the village, anxious to commence their depredations
before even a single shot was fired.
Barry, as already intimated, joined the expedition, and was now numbered
among the invaders. Of course he perceived that with such a mere handful
of men, nothing could be effected in the Province; but, then, he
never supposed for a moment, that they were other than the simple
advance-guard of a numerous following close upon their rear. In
addition, it was anticipated that the landing of troops upon the
Canadian shore would be effected simultaneously along the frontier at
different points. This was the settled conviction of O’Neill, and of his
officers also, as the scheme formed a leading feature of the
programme of the campaign. But here the fates were against them; for
transportation, as we are led to believe, was not secured effectively
at any point save Buffalo. In fact, this city appears to have acquitted
itself with regard to the invasion, in a manner that reflects the
highest credit upon the Fenian authorities of the district; for even
when the expedition, on finding that the American Government had
interfered with the transport of reinforcements, had considered it
prudent to return, the means of reaching the American shore were placed
at its command by the patriotic gentlemen already alluded to; while,
farther still, when the United States authorities were seizing the arms
of the Brotherhood in every direction, Buffalo, through the admirable
management of these persons, contrived to keep its quota intact.
During the morning of the landing, Nicholas happened to get a glimpse
of the Kid and big dark companion in the village; and the circumstance
awoke strong hopes in his bosom in relation to gaining some intelligence
of Kate. From all he had heard, and from having found the trinket in
their boat, he felt convinced that either one or the other of these
scoundrels knew something of her. He, therefore, kept track of them
until a fitting opportunity, when he accosted the Kid, as a sort of
half acquaintance, and, by way of attempting to surprise him into a
confession of some knowledge of Kate, produced the silver chased button
already referred to, and asked him if he knew the name of the lady that
had recently dropped it in his boat. For a moment the villain, who was,
of course, none other than the Stephen Smith that was in the habit
of visiting the Wilsons, seemed taken aback; but instantly recovering
himself, replied, that his boat was so often hired by fishing parties,
it would be difficult to tell the name of the lady from whose dress it
might have dropped--that was, “provided it had dropped from a lady’s
dress, at all.”
Although the thrust was adroitly parried, Nicholas, who was on the _qui
vive_, noticed his momentary confusion, and determined to keep his eye
upon him, in the hope that something might soon turn up that would throw
the villain more completely into his power, and enable him to extract
from him the intelligence which he still felt satisfied was in his
possession. With this end in view, he set one of his comrades, who had
escaped from the Fort with him, to watch with the utmost caution
and secrecy every manoeuvre of the wretch and his companion; fully
satisfied, as he was, that both the rascals were determined to follow in
the wake of the army, for purposes already mentioned.
The conduct of the Invaders at Fort Erie was of such general excellence,
that the inhabitants of that place speak of them, up to the
present hour, in terms of such admiration as to excite the
jealous animadversions of many of the Canadian people themselves.
Notwithstanding that the village and its vicinity lay helplessly at
their disposal, and was, for the moment, theirs by right of conquest,
they entered it rather in the character of guests than in that of
masters. Although the usages of war placed all that it contained at
their feet, they never appropriated to their use even one solitary loaf
of bread or glass of ale without having first paid for it. As to their
generosity and chivalry in this connection, let us quote from the work
of Major George T. Denison, Jun’r, commanding “the Governor General’s
Body Guard,” Upper Canada; author of “Manual and Outpost Duties,”
“Observations on the best Defensive Force for Canada, &c.”--an officer
who took part in the campaign against the Fenians, and who cannot be
charged with partiality to the invaders. In this work, published in
June, 1866, by Rollo & Adam, Toronto, and entitled “The Fenian Raid on
Fort Erie, with an account of the Battle of Ridgeway,” the author,
page 62, observes, first, as to the disastrous result of the collision
between both armies, to the Canadians:--
“The loss of this fight was the loss of the whole expedition. The two
Commanding Officers were wandering about the country, the main body of
the men captured or lying wounded about the village; the Captain of the
Artillery struck down with the loss of a leg, and the Tug almost denuded
of men, and the few left so hampered with a lot of useless prisoners, as
to be unable to undertake anything.”
And again, after having complimented the invaders on some instances of
personal bravery, he remarks, page 69:
“Before closing this chapter, I must mention that, from all accounts,
the Fenians, except in so far as they were wrong in invading a peaceful
country, in carrying on an unjustifiable war, behaved remarkably well
to the inhabitants. I spent three weeks in Fort Erie, and conversed with
dozens of the people of the place, and was astonished at the universal
testimony borne by them to their unvarying good conduct. They have been
called plunderers, robbers and marauders; yet, no matter how unwilling
we may be to admit it, the positive fact remains, that THEY STOLE BUT
FEW VALUABLES; THAT THEY DESTROYED, COMPARATIVELY SPEAKING, LITTLE OR
NOTHING, AND THAT THEY COMMITTED NO OUTRAGES UPON THE INHABITANTS, BUT
TREATED EVERYONE WITH UNVARYING COURTESY. On taking a number of the
Welland Battery and the Naval Company prisoners, THEY TREATED THEM
WITH THE GREATEST KINDNESS, putting the officers under their parole
and RETURNING TO THEM THEIR SIDE ARMS; taking them down to the wharf on
their departure, and releasing them, bidding them adieu with EXPRESSIONS
OF GOOD WILL.”
“Another incident,” he goes on to say, same page, “occurred, worth
mentioning: A number of them went to a widow lady’s house, near Fort
Erie, and asked her for something to eat. They were about going into the
kitchen to sit down, and she told them she would not let them in,--they
laughingly replied, ‘very well, ma’am, we’ll do here very well, it is a
very nice yard;’ and accordingly they sat down on the grass and ate the
bread and butter and milk she gave them. Another squad in the same
way took breakfast there. In the evening a man came, ragged and tired,
looking for something to eat. Seeing a loaf of bread on the table he
took it up. The lady said: ‘That is the last loaf I have.’ The man
looked at her and said slowly: ‘Is that the last loaf of bread that you
have? then I’ll not take it,’ and laid it on the window-sill. Seeing
this, she asked him to take half. After pressing it upon him, he at
length took a portion of it. This story is undoubtly true, as I obtained
it from the lady herself, with whom I am intimately acquainted.”
“It perhaps,” he continues in the next paragraph, page 70, “does
not come with a good grace from a Canadian to give any credit to the
Fenians, who, without any ground of complaint against us, invade our
country and cause the loss of valuable lives among us; but as a truthful
narrator of facts, I must give them credit on the only ground on which
they can claim it.”
This is honest and soldierly on the part of Major Denison; but should
these pages chance to meet his eye, he will find his theory untenable in
relation to the immunity of Canada from the consequences of any acts for
which England may seemingly be responsible only. The war of 1812 was
not a war against Canada, but against Great Britain, and yet Canada was
invaded by the Americans and made the principal theatre of the
conflict. How multifarious soever, or widely scattered its colonies or
dependencies, every nation is a unit, and consequently amenable as well
in detail as in the aggregate, for any offence committed against public
justice or humanity. When you quarrel with a man, you don’t quarrel in
particular with his eye, his foot, or his nose, although you may punish
him as a whole by inflicting injury upon all or any of these organs; and
thus it is in the case under consideration; the New Dominion is the foot
or the eye or the nose of John Bull, and as such, any enemy of England
is justifiable in maiming him in any or all of these parts. This is
the hard logic of the point; and if Canada wishes to escape its
consequences, she must demonstrate to the Irish people, or to any other
who may be at enmity with England, that she is neither part nor parcel
of the British Empire. How ridiculous the plea set up by Canada, that
because she was not forsooth an active individual agent of gross tyranny
and injustice towards Ireland, she ought to be exempt from any of the
consequences arising to the real culprit in the case. The same argument
might be urged with as much reason, by half the population of England
herself, who are just as innocent in this respect as the people of
Canada; they having never been consciously concerned in any oppression
of Ireland, either individually or collectively. But they are the
friends, allies and abettors of the government which has perpetrated
such crimes in relation to Ireland,--nay, more, they create and sustain
the agencies through which these wrongs are committed; and in this
they are joined heart, hand and soul, by the people of Canada or the
representatives of that people. Canada, then, having sworn allegiance to
the Crown of Great Britain, is constructively, as well as virtually,
as much an enemy of Ireland as England is. The Firm, comprising Great
Britain and all its colonies and dependencies throughout the world, is
known as John Bull & Co., and the distinctive sign of the house, in all
its ramifications, is the Union Jack or some adaptation of the red
cross of St. George to local predilections. As in ordinary mercantile
transactions, a debt incurred by any branch of the establishment
involves the responsibility of the whole, and can be levied for
in London or Hokitika. This is the true state of the case, and any
individual who would advance a doctrine contrary to it, is either a
simpleton or a knave.
Black Jack and his companion were astonished to find such order reign in
the midst of an invading army, and to perceive that the inhabitants
of the village were not subjected to instant plunder, if not fire and
sword, by the troops now in possession of the place. They had come over
in the hope of being able to make some bold strokes in the wake of the
soldiery, and the confusion that they had fancied should obtain among
the people; but finding that they were foiled in this direction, they
cast their eyes about them to see what was best to be done under the
circumstances.
“I’ll be blowed,” growled Jack, as they both rambled in the outskirts
of the village the morning of their arrival, “if this ain’t a go. Honly
fancy, Kid, vot a set of spoonies these ‘ere fellows har, not to be goin
it like the Hinglish in Hindia, or in the Peninsoola under the Duke. I
‘eard a fellow as vos there say, that they used to steal hoff at night
and ‘av hodd sport and leave none to tell the tale in the mornin.
Glorious, vosn’t it? And then ven they gathered hup the svag, they
made it hall right vith the sentries and sometimes vith the hofficers
themselves.”
“Jack, I’ll never make anything of you,” returned the Kid; “your
language is so vulgar, and your address altogether so ungentlemanlike,
that you at once peach on yourself; for anybody, with even half an eye,
that either sees you or hears you speak, would take you for the villain
you unquestionably are.”
“Oh! bless’ee, but you’re a sveet cove,” rejoined Jack, “and no vun
vould suppose for a moment that you cut Sal Gordon’s throat, the night
you coaxed her hoff to marry her, just because you took a fancy to a
couple of five-pun notes she had in her trash-bag that she refused to
give hup afore the knot vos tied.”
“Come, come,” winced the Kid, “no more of that, but let us see if we
can’t do a little business here, or, at least, before we return, which
I venture to say we shall manage if we keep in the wake of these fellows
without arousing the suspicions of any of them.”
“Yes, yes!” said Jack, “but vot hif ve should run foul of the henemy and
be taken hup as belongin to these ‘ere chaps, hif so be they’re beaten,
as I hope they vill?”
“I tell you what, there’s but one chap among them all that’ll keep
his eye on us,” replied the Kid, “and that’s the fellow who thought to
surprise me into a confession, by suddenly producing a button that, I
apprehend, dropped off the dress of the lady that we, recently ran over
here for our new employer. I have found out his name, and learned that
he was engaged to be married to this same beauty, who is now safely
caged at Wilson’s, where she’ll soon be apt to learn that she’s in about
as nice a fix as ever she was in during her life. But,” he continued, “I
don’t know what to make of that Martha. All I can do or say, whenever I
happen to be at the house, has no other effect than that of apparently
making her more and more opposed to her uncle’s wishes, until I am
convinced shell never be mine, willingly at least. And after all, I love
the girl well enough; although I feel I should kill her before she was
mine a month.”
Thus baffled and circumscribed, these two scoundrels prowled about the
village until near ten o’clock, when the troops moved down the river
about four miles, and went into camp at Newbiggin’s farm. At this period
the gallant O’Neill was in great uncertainty. Here he was in an enemy’s
country with but a handful of men, and in utter darkness as to what was
going on at other points. Already, at Buffalo, he had a taste of the
manner in which the War Department had conducted the expedition to
that point; and was, of course, afraid that the inefficiency of that
department would make itself apparent in more relations than one. In
the ability, activity and devotion of President Roberts, Vice-President
Gibbons and the Senate, he had the fullest confidence; but Col. Roberts
did not take it upon himself to dictate to a department that was in
charge of what was believed to be an old and experienced military
officer, and one on whose judgment and practical skill he placed the
fullest reliance. The position was a desperate one; but O’Neill was
determined to maintain his ground on British soil, until satisfied that
failure had obtained elsewhere, and that there was no probability of his
being reinforced. He had long burned for an opportunity of meeting the
enemies of the land of his birth in open fight; and now, although all
around looked dark and uncertain, he was determined to join issue with
any force that was brought against him. His men for the most part, too,
shared this sentiment. True, that a few cowardly hounds had deserted his
standard almost as soon as it had been unfurled on the enemy’s
shore; but then these were of that miserable breed that always attach
themselves to expeditions of this sort without measuring their motives
or the strength of their principles. However, be this as it may, they
have forever forfeited their claims to the name of Irishmen, if such
they were; while the very recollection will be painful to many, that so
dastardly and worthless a crew tainted, even for a single moment, the
pure atmosphere in which such men breathed as the following, not to
speak of the noble rank and file whose names we are unable, for obvious
reasons, to give here, and who, like them, led by the gallant O’NEILL,
immortalized themselves on the field of Ridgeway:
_OFFICERS OF THE I.R.A., PRESENT AT RIDGEWAY_.
Lieutenant RUDOLPH FITZPATRICK, Aid-de-Camp to O’NEILL.
Colonel OWEN STARR, commanding Kentucky troops.
Lieutenant Colonel JOHN SPAULDING, Louisville, Kentucky troops.
Captain TIMOTHY O’LEARY, Louisville, Kentucky troops.
Captain JOHN GEARY, Lexington, Kentucky troops.
Lieutenant PATK J. TYRRELL. Louisville, Kentucky troops.
Lieutenant MICH’L BOLAND, Louisville, Kentucky troops.
Colonel JOHN HOY, Buffalo, commanding 7th Regiment I.R.A.
Lieutenant Colonel MICH’L BAILEY, Buffalo, 7th Regiment I.R.A.
Captain JOHN M. FOGARTY, Buffalo.
Captain WM. B. SMITH, Buffalo.
Lieutenant EDW’D LONERGAN, Buffalo.
Colonel JOHN GRACE, Cincinnati; commanding Ohio troops.
Captain SAM SULLIVAN, Cincinnati. Ohio troops.
Lieutenant JOHN J. GEOGHAN, Cincinnati. Ohio troops.
Captain ---- BUCKLEY, Cleveland, Ohio troops.
Lieutenant TIMOTHY LAVAN, Cleveland, Ohio.
Captain ---- McDONALD, Pulaski, Tennessee.
Captain LAWRENCE SHIELDS, Nashville, commanding Tennessee troops.
Captain PHILIP MUNDY, Chattanooga, Tenn.
Lieutenant JAMES J. ROACH, Nashville, Tenn.
Lieutenant JOHN MAGUIRE, Nashville, Tenn.
Captain MICH’L CONLON, Memphis, Tennessee.
Captain ---- HAGGERTY, Indianapolis, Indiana.
Major JOHN C. CANTY, Fort Erie, C.W.
We trust that we have not omitted here the name of any officer present
at Ridgeway. If it should ever appear that we have done so, it will be a
source of great pain to us, although we can plead in apology that every
effort was made on our part to procure a complete list.
Seeing that there was not much to be made out of Fort Erie, the two
comrades, Black Jack and the Kid, moved cautiously in the rear of the
troops as they fell down the river; their intention being to remain
concealed in the vicinity of any point at which an engagement might take
place, and then trust to chance for an opportunity of rifling the dead
or picking up whatever spoils happened to drop in their way. While
deliberating upon this creditable resolve, about noon, as they had made
a detour and pushed ahead of the troops, who were going into camp, their
attention was arrested by the noise of some vehicle coming up a side
road across which they were wending their way. In the course of a few
moments they discovered that it was the wagon of Wilson, driven by that
worthy, in the direction of the village of Waterloo; he evidently not
having, as yet, heard of the Province being invaded. Immediately a
conference took place between the three friends, when it was agreed that
Wilson’s wagon should be concealed in a wooded hollow close by, and that
it should be made the receptacle of whatever plunder might be
secured during the struggle that they all felt must soon take place.
Consequently, the team was turned aside, and, after being unhitched, was
secured in a close clump of trees, that was not likely to be visited by
any persons in the vicinity; and more particularly so, when the country
was now being alarmed throughout, and people were securing themselves in
their habitations.
After this being arranged, and the horses fed and watered, the party
again sallied forth towards the main road, with a view to getting
as near as was safe to the camp of the invaders, and gleaning some
information as to their future movements. They had been hovering about
in this way for some time, when they came to a point where two roads
met, and where they perceived two wagons in which were a number of
people, all standing and reconoitering something, in alarm or surprise,
through a field-glass, which they were passing from one to the other.
At a glance the trio saw that these persons were Canadians; and, fearing
nothing, they made instantly towards them, and as though in ignorance of
what had taken place, made inquiries as to what they were inspecting.
While engaged in conversation upon this point, and learning that those
in the wagons were observing a body of armed men who were moving at some
distance from them, but whom they could not identify as either friends
or foes, the whole party perceived an officer riding towards them with
the greatest apparent coolness and confidence. On coming up, he informed
them that the body of men in the distance were some volunteers who were
not very well acquainted with the roads about there, and that he would
feel obliged if they would just drive down and give the commanding
officer whatever information was in their power upon the subject of the
best route to be taken to a certain point, naming it. To this request
they all gladly acceded, the Kid and Jack not daring to say a word, and
not one of them suspecting anything from the peculiar uniform of the
officer; from the fact that they were not aware the hat indicated that
he did not belong to any Canadian force; believing, as they did, that
the uniforms of the volunteers were of various descriptions. When,
however, they arrived at the point where the men were stationed, they
quickly found out their mistake, and, to their utter consternation, were
all made prisoners, Wilson and his two companions included. The body
that made this capture was a reconnoitering force commanded by Col. John
Hoy; and no sooner was it made, than the prisoners and the two wagons
were at once forwarded under an escort to O’Neill’s camp, where, on the
Kid and Black Jack being recognized as belonging to Buffalo, they were
released at once; the others being held for a short period with a view
to gaining some information from them, relative to the movements or
whereabouts of the enemy, of which, as it subsequently turned out, they
knew nothing whatever.
This introduction to the camp was considered fortunate by the Kid and
his comrade, who now, on being acknowledged by some of the men who knew
nothing of their real character, seemed anxious to remain under the
protection of the Irish flag until, as they stated, they could effect
their escape across the river; as they now averred that, should they
attempt to regain Buffalo alone, they could not fail to fall into the
hands of the Canadian forces, who, it was rumored, were gathering on
every side of the Fenian army, with the design of surrounding it and
cutting off its retreat. This all seemed natural and reasonable enough;
and more particularly as the two villains asserted that they were on
their way to Chippewa on business of importance, but should now get back
to their home as soon as practicable; they not having had any idea that
the invasion was about to take place; and having crossed to the Canadian
side early the evening before; that finding they could not get any one
to recross the river with them, as things stood, they thought it better
to keep in the wake of the army until they had reached some point where
they could effect a crossing; not wishing to entrust themselves to the
people of Fort Erie, after the troops had evacuated that place, as they
felt certain that the inhabitants regarded them as Fenians, and would
treat them as such if an opportunity was afforded them to do so.
During the day nothing of interest transpired, until towards evening,
when Barry, with two of his old comrades and four others of his company,
who were thoroughly acquainted with the locality, were despatched
from the camp, as were similar squads in other directions, to make
reconnoissances of the enemy, if they were anywhere near the main body
of the army. After proceeding cautiously for a couple of miles, and
pausing, from time to time, to reconnoitre, on gaining the verge of a
small piece of wooded land, they suddenly found themselves almost face
to face with ten or twelve armed soldiers, in British uniform, who
seemed to be an outpost lying in wait among some pine shrubs, on the
opposite side of a narrow ravine. Fortunately for our hero, he was
the first to discover the red coats, upon whom the sun was pouring its
declining rays, revealing them to the green coats, while at the same
time it dazzled and obscured their vision, from the fact that the
light flashed full in their faces, while it fell on the backs of their
advancing adversaries. A few hundred yards towards the upper end of the
ravine, there was a small patch of wood, through which Barry instantly
determined to move towards the point occupied by the enemy; hoping to
be able to surprise them before they were aware of his proximity. This
manoeuvre was accomplished rapidly, and with the utmost caution; but as
an open space yet intervened between him and them, when he had gained
the verge of the grove, he determined to remain under cover, with a view
to ascertaining the strength of the force he might have to cope with;
not knowing but it was larger than it seemed to be from the opposite
side of the glen.
Here, however, he had scarcely halted when he was discovered by the
enemy, who took alarm; but, after a moment’s pause, during which a good
deal of coolness was observed amongst their ranks, they deliberately
poured a volley into the grove where he and his little band stood under
shelter, although discernible among the trees. No sooner had the music
of the bullets ceased, and as a full view was had of the force of the
enemy, than the Fenians dashed across the open space already mentioned,
and charged in a spirited manner, although received by the foe with
the utmost intrepidity, and an evident intention to work some mischief
before they retired from the spot. Barry, however, instructed his little
band not to fire until within a few yards of their antagonists, who were
now coolly reloading; so, before the redcoats were again prepared to
give another volley, one simultaneous crash of the Fenian rifles threw
them into momentary confusion; and, the next instant, both parties were
closely engaged in a life and death struggle.
The fire of the Fenians had made sad havoc amongst the small force,
which was now cut down to the proportions of that of their own; still
those that remained never swerved an inch, but joined with their
adversaries, hip and thigh. There was but one volley fired on
either side; and, now that the shrubbery was so thick and withal so
inconveniently high, both parties had recourse to their side arms to
decide the day. Hand to hand, and desperately they fought, without much
indication of the mortal strife, save the low groan of the dying and the
thick breathing of those who struggled upon the green sward among the
roots of the young pines that so thickly studded the place. Already had
Barry silenced forever the pulses of more than one of his antagonists,
when their leader, a powerful man of about thirty-five, made a sudden
bound towards him, after having in turn brought his own assailant to
the ground, and instantly both their swords were crossed, as they stood,
alone, in an open space of a few feet square, while the deadly conflict
still half silently raged around them among the three or four who now
survived to battle for their respective flags.
Barry, although but a private soldier when in the British service, was
regarded as one of the best swordsmen in his regiment. In fact, he was
that sort of person who took delight in excelling in every military
exercise, so that his task-masters should have no grounds for wounding
his feelings or his pride in any matter connected with the discipline
of a soldier. So skillful was he in this connection, that the moment
he caught sight of the manner in which his enemy grasped his weapon,
he looked for but one issue touching the encounter, and that was, the
probable destruction of both. He felt that he had an antagonist before
him worthy the occasion, and braced himself for the work with all the
energy of his being. Swift as lightning, both weapons flashed in the
sunlight, and the next instant lay pressing uneasily against each other
in mid-air; forming a shifting and glittering arch of death, beneath
which either its crimson or emerald pillar was soon to fall in
ensanguined ruins. Not a word was spoken on either side; each believing
that his hour or that of the other had come! The conflict in the
surrounding shrubbery had already almost ceased. Brief as the period
was, the remaining few of the enemy were vanquished and soon had fled,
pursued by a victorious two or three, being scarcely themselves more
than that number, having suffered severely, although they fought with
great bravery. It was the seven hundred years of hate and the red blood
of Ireland, that decided the conquest for so far in favor of the green;
and now, face to face, with lips compressed and glaring eye, stood the
two representatives of the individual antagonisms, which had been pitted
against each other for ages, and which never can breathe in peace the
same vital air. As if understanding, thoroughly, the power, agility and
skill of his antagonist, the opponent of Barry, who was an Englishman by
birth, and had been in the British service, never sought for a moment to
gain any advantage of the ground. In this relation, he seemed satisfied
to fight his adversary on equal terms; being well aware that a single
move might be fatal, inasmuch as it could not fail to distract his
attention to some extent from his watchful enemy. The sward sloped
down rapidly to the ravine; so that he who occupied the most elevated
position would have his adversary at an advantage; but, although this
conviction was impressed upon the minds of both, neither seemed anxious
to avail himself of it; and thus they stood upon equal terms, in every
way antagonists worthy of each other. In height, the Englishman had it
somewhat in his favor; but, then, not above an inch or so; while Barry,
in agility and compactness, seemed to be vastly his superior. And such
they were, when the first thrust and parry told that the work had begun.
This was immediately succeeded by a furious clashing, that evidenced a
rising tempest of anger in the breast of either, or both, and which gave
promise of being speedily followed by some fatal stroke that was sure to
terminate the encounter. During this ominous flurry, Barry stood on
the defensive, coolly eyeing his brave adversary, and watching for the
unguarded moment when he could either kill or disarm him; but this was
not so easily found, as the Englishman was every inch a soldier and a
superb swordsman; and Barry knew it well.
Notwithstanding the violence of the attack, so adroitly was it met,
and so firmly was it withstood, that our hero never gave way a hair’s
breadth of ground, or suffered a single scratch; and now only, in
reality, the murderous conflict commenced. The Englishman perceiving
that our hero was not to be moved or thrown off his guard for an
instant, became more fully satisfied that he had a dangerous antagonist
to deal with, and so commenced to be himself more cautions and guarded.
Seeing that mere personal strength availed him but little, he fell
back on his admirable swordsmanship and fought with coolness the most
undaunted. Barry now, in turn, became the assailant, and pressing his
antagonist with great skill and courage, gave him a slight flesh wound,
followed rapidly by another in the sword arm, from which the blood began
to flow copiously. Perceiving that the conflict must be decided at once,
as he should soon become faint from loss of blood, once more the red
coat became the assailing party; but this time, as he was pressing our
hero, but somewhat more feebly than before, his foot caught beneath
the tough, fibrous roots of one of the pine shrubs by which they were
surrounded, and the next instant he was thrown headlong towards Barry,
while his sword flew out of his hand far beyond his reach.
The fight was over; and fortunate it was for the prostrate soldier that
it was brought to so singular a determination; for, from the manner
in which he was bleeding, if from nothing else, the day was sure to be
decided in Barry’s favor. Regaining his feet, as soon as possible, he
looked aghast for a moment, as if expecting his death blow; but found
his antagonist not only presenting him his sword, but begging him not to
continue the conflict, as from his wound he was in no situation to keep
it up longer with any show of success.
“By my faith,” he replied in return, “I believe, under any
circumstances, the fates were against me; so, understanding what is due
to a brave man, keep my sword and find me some water, as I begin to feel
a little shakey about the knees.”
Just at the foot of the slope, and but a few yards distant, there was a
brook, to which our hero now led his prisoner, and where, after bathing
his temples and bandaging his wound with a handkerchief, he left him for
a moment to look after those who might need his aid more urgently, hard
by. He found, after all, that but one of his party was killed, although
two others, who managed to creep in amongst the shrubbery, were severely
wounded. Not knowing how the contest was going, and seeing themselves
completely _hors de combat_, they waited in silence the result, fearing
to call out, lest the enemy might be upon them and despatch them. The
red coats suffered most severely; six of their number having been killed
outright. Strange to say, however, that there appeared to have been none
of them simply wounded; for, although groans were heard to proceed from
the point where they lay, they must have been uttered in their death
agonies, so mortal was the damage dealt them.
When this much was ascertained, Barry was deliberating as to what had
become of the remaining three of his party, when they returned to the
scene of conflict, weary with a fruitless chase. These men instantly
took up their comrades and bore them down to the brook, where they
were refreshed with a cooling draught. Barry, finding that it would be
dangerous for them to remain to bury the dead, as the noise of their
rifles might have attracted the attention of some other body of the
enemy that might possibly be somewhere in the vicinity of the ravine,
determined to retrace his steps at once. His two wounded companions,
like his prisoner, were able to walk slowly towards the camp; so,
collecting the enemy’s dead into one place, and covering them with
branches of evergreens, they took up the body of their fallen comrade
and, placing it on a litter hastily formed of boughs gathered on the
spot, slowly wended their way with it towards the point occupied by
the main body of the army--Barry and his prisoner moving in the same
direction, some distance in the rear.