In the morning that Greaves visited the Fort in Canada, garrisoned by
Barry’s regiment, it will be remembered that he had a brief interview
with the Colonel. Momentary as it was, however, it was sufficient to
prevent Barry from getting his discharge; for the Colonel was then and
there apprised that our hero sought to leave the army for the purpose
only of joining the anticipated Fenian invasion, giving it the
advantage of his military skill, and aiding it with his knowledge of the
fortifications that the invaders might attempt to posses themselves of.
On being persuaded, through a glance at a certain document placed in
his hands, that Greaves was to be trusted, he at once decided as to the
course that he himself ought to pursue, and the reader has already seen
the result. Strange as it may appear for the present, it was Greaves’
object to induce Barry to desert, and thereby shut himself out from ever
revisiting the British dominions again. He felt that it would be better,
too, that he should not be taken while in the act of deserting; as his
punishment could be but light, owing to the circumstance, that he had
endeavored, though in vain, to obtain his discharge honorably; so he
determined to aid his escape from the Fort, and secure his outlawry
beyond any possibility of mistake. Why he was prompted to an act so
gratuitous and so apparently undeserved, remains for future explanation;
but, at present, all we have to do with is the simple fact, that owing
to his mysterious machinations, our young hero was driven to the step he
had taken.
It is, we perceive, a fact, that O’Brien was correct in his first
estimate of Greaves; as that smooth-tongued traitor was the notorious
spy in the pay of the English government, sent out to Canada with a view
to learning the particulars of the power and intentions of Fenianism in
the Provinces, as well as in the adjoining Republic. In this connection,
he had such papers in his possession as recommended him to the Canadian
Minister who gave him, on his arrival in the city where we first
encountered him, such assistance and direction as his maudlin state of
mind could afford. He recommended him to the confidence of many persons
in the upper part of the Province, where he had been staying for some
time previous to his appearance at The Harp. Among these was the Hon. J.
R-----, of Toronto--a Patrick’s Day Son of the Sod, who has often nailed
Ireland to the cross for place and power; and who regards every body
as his “dear friend” who can help him up the ladder--a man with no more
human flesh about his bones or heart within him, than is possessed by
the veriest skeleton that has ever served the purposes of a college of
surgeons, after having reposed for a whole generation in the silence of
the grave. Oh! how we long for the day when we shall meet such miserable
Judases face to face, and spit upon them before the nations; and how
willing we are to admit that we should rather tomorrow shake the manly
hand of the English Joe Sheard of Toronto, open enemy and all as he is,
than touch the vile, clammy paw of such repulsive creatures as compose
the snake-like breed of which this same paltry and sordid trimmer is a
true representative. Of course, Greaves and he understood each other at
once--they were both traitors alike; only that the former was lavish of
money in attaining his nefarious ends, while the latter would crawl to
whatever goal he had in view, through any description of filth provided
it would obviate the necessity of relaxing his gripe upon his ill-gotten
gain. It is to such men as he, that Ireland owes all her misfortunes,
and that the people of Canada owe the curse of the great embarrassments
that now sorely beset them. For so far, not a single Irishman who has
ever been prominently identified with the Government of Canada, if
we are at all able to judge, has possessed a spark of honest or true
patriotism. From first to last, every man Jack of them has fleeced the
poor Canucks unmercifully, and played the toady to England in the most
fulsome and sickening manner. Even the best of them were rotten to the
core, and but mere adventurers. Look at the case of the “Hyena,” as he
was called in his prime. One day we find him out at the elbows peddling
samples of wine around the Province, and the next, wallowing in wealth
through his Point Levi and other gouges at the expense of the people;
until, at last, he became sufficiently corrupt for England to send him
to take charge of her interests in one of her dependencies: where, as
it is asserted, he, from time to time, is carried from boating parties,
etc., to his palatial residence dead drunk, in open daylight. But
why spend a single breath in referring to such miserable specimens of
humanity? The world knows what they are; and Canada ought to have some
slight acquaintance with them: as they built her into the worthless
Grand Trunk at a ruinous figure, and, like her present, leading,
political juggler, Sir John A., fleeced her in every direction that a
collop could be cut out of her.
It was amongst such tricksters, English, Irish and Scotch, that Greaves,
for the most part, moved secretly from the moment of his arrival in the
Province up to the date at which we find him at Port Colborne. He was,
however, surprised to learn that men so high in power, and that had been
so high in power, really knew so little of the great impending movement
which overshadowed the Provinces and bid fair to wrest them from the
hands of England. But few papers in Upper Canada appeared to know
anything of what was really going on in this relation, besides the
_Globe_, of Toronto. Nearly all the others, like the leader of the
government and his satellites, seemed to be at sea upon the subject.
This fact Greaves took care to mention in the dispatches which he sent
home to Ireland, from time to time; giving it as his opinion, that the
Prime Minister of Canada was a dangerous man to entrust with any large
interests, civil or military.
How the spy had become possessed of the letter or paper which so
staggered O’Brien, is easily accounted for. One of the Organization in
Ireland, named Greaves, who had been purchased by the government while
on a mission of trust, and who had sworn his way into the Brotherhood
with a view to making merchandise of it, gave up his credentials for a
certain sum; and thus it was that they had fallen into the hands of
the Castle of Dublin and subsequently into those of the spy. Cunning as
O’Brien was, the spy read his connection with the Organization through
exhibiting this document to him on the morning succeeding the night of
our first introduction to The Harp; for he perceived, at once, that were
O’Brien not, is some way, identified with the Brotherhood, he would have
been unable to recognize the meaning of certain expressions contained in
the paper, which, as already observed, seemed to impress him so suddenly
and so forcibly.
Now, however, that the Provinces were actually invaded, Greaves, as we
shall yet continue to call him, found that his mission had suddenly been
brought to a close. As the cat was out of the bag, however, he instantly
turned his undivided attention to some private matters of his own, and
which, after all, was the only thing that induced him to move so rapidly
west, after the escape of Barry and his comrades from the Fort. But with
all his deeply laid schemes, he began to feel a strange presentiment
that he had overreached himself, and that, notwithstanding the
supposition that he had shut out our hero from Canada for all time to
come, it was more than likely he was in the Province again, and that,
too, as an invader, and but a very short distance from the village in
which he now found himself. This surmise maddened him, for reasons to be
disclosed in due course; and, as if urged by some unseen power, he
was determined to make his way towards the camp of the invaders; well
knowing that had Barry joined it, he would vouch for his friendliness;
while, had he not re-entered the Province, he himself could make his way
among the Brotherhood as a friend, by the same means that he had stepped
into the good graces, or rather escaped the detection, of O’Brien.
Early on the morning of the second of June, then, he set out from Port
Colborne, with a force under the command of Lieut. Col. Booker, anxious
to witness, and if necessary, take part in the first encounter between
the invaders and the Provincial troops. How did he know--perhaps a
chance bullet fired by himself might find its billet in the heart of
Barry, had the latter joined the Fenians; and if it did, then all would
be right, and his triumph secured. Still he had his misgivings as to
the success of the Canadians, notwithstanding their reputed superior
numbers, and the presence of the regulars to strengthen and inspirit the
volunteers. He saw that all was uncertainty and confusion. Col. Peacock,
of the 16th regulars, chief in command of the united forces, was at
“sixes and sevens” with the commanding officer of the volunteers, while
General Napier, commanding the regular troops in the whole of Upper
Canada, was so perplexed with rumors of invasion at various points, as
to be absolutely lost in a maze of bewilderment, and utterly incapable
of meeting the crisis in a soldierly and intelligent manner.
Thus the confusion ran amongst the Canadians, when Col. Booker, on the
morning just alluded to, set out with his command from Port Colborne,
to attack the Irish Republican forces, encamped at Newbiggin’s Farm, and
with the further intention of forming a junction with the regulars under
Col. Peacock, coming from Chippewa--the invaders being absolutely hemmed
in on all sides; as a steamer with a field battery occupied the river in
their rear, with a view to cutting off their retreat, when they were, as
it was expected they should be, defeated by the large number of forces
that were being steadily brought down upon them.
Arriving at the village of Ridgeway, the troops left the cars and
proceeded cautiously in the direction of Stevensville, at or near which
point they hoped to form the junction with Col. Peacock, who was on his
way from Chippewa, where he had bivouacked the night before. The village
of Ridgeway is on the line of the Grand Trunk Railway, which connects
it with Port Colborne on Lake Erie on the one side, and Fort Erie on
the same lake, at the mouth of the Niagara River, on the other. It is
situated about eleven miles from the former place, and something like
eight from the latter; leaving the extreme points distant from each
other about nineteen miles. At this little place, then, Lieut. Col.
Booker found himself, in command of a force which has been variously
estimated at from twelve to eighteen hundred men, composed of the crack
volunteers of the country, and, as a general thing, commanded by brave
and experienced officers. It has, however, been asserted by some that
there were not more than one thousand British engaged at Ridgeway; but
we fear that this is under the mark, and are inclined to believe, that,
at an honest computation, their force amounted to between thirteen
and fourteen hundred. This we give on what we consider to be reliable
authority, and can, at once, presume that the division under Col. Booker
stood something more than three to one against the invaders, as the
handful under the gallant O’Neill did not exceed four hundred on the
actual field of Ridgeway.
Stevensville lies in the direction of Chippewa, on a wagon road
branching off at right angles from the Grand Trunk at Ridgeway village,
and here it was that Col. Peacock ordered Col. Booker to meet him, with
the men under his command, with the design of forming a junction and
attacking O’Neill with a combined force of volunteers and regulars
amounting to between two and three thousand men. This junction O’Neill
was determined to defeat, and did defeat it;--but let us not anticipate.
When Greaves stepped from the cars at Ridgeway, the first man he
encountered was the Kid; and, strange as it may appear, a sign of
recognition passed between them instantaneously. In a few moments they
managed to extricate themselves from the crowds that thronged the place,
and move off to an unfrequented spot, where they could converse unheard
and unobserved. Here they were soon engaged on a subject which seemed
to excite Greaves to the highest pitch, and elicit from him sundry
ejaculations of surprise mixed with anger. Becoming cooler, however, he
led his companion into a spot even more sequestered, and then fell into
a low and earnest conversation with him, in which the name of Barry
might be heard pronounced with a deadly, hissing vehemence, indicative
of the most frightful passion and hate. All this time the Kid remained
quite calm, answering the interrogatories of his employer, for such
Greaves appeared to be, until, at last, the plot or contract, whatever
it was, was completed, and the parties had again bent their steps to the
railway station by different paths.
Had the gallant O’Neill two thousand men at his command on the morning
of the 2d of June, 1866, with the certainty of reinforcements, _Canada
would, ere this, have been part and parcel of the United States, and
Ireland an independent Republic_, modeled after that of the American
Union. No officer was better calculated to accomplish the overthrow
of British power in the Dominion, than he. A thorough and practiced
soldier--a man of great personal courage and daring, and above all,
a genuine Celt, fired with the hereditary hatred of England so
characteristic of his name and race, he was in himself a host. With two
thousand men, composed of such stuff as he commanded at Ridgeway, he
could have swept the road before him to Toronto; for there can be no
doubt that his numbers would have been largely augmented on the way by
Irish Nationalists and American sympathisers, who then, as now, pine for
annexation. In addition, when it became once known, that a victorious
army of the Republic of Ireland was marching on Toronto, a demonstration
favorable to the invaders would have been made in that city, or
such indications of friendship evinced by the Irish portion of the
inhabitants, as would paralyze the energies of all those within its
borders who were determined to stand by the flag of the tyrant. This, we
are certain, would have been the real result of a march upon that city;
for, all that thousands upon thousands of the people of Canada, who are
now muzzled by the government, require at any moment to range them on
the side of Ireland, is the assurance of success on the part of any
invader, whether Irish or American, who makes a descent upon their
shores. What a dreadful calamity, then, it was, that the War Department
of the Irish Republic had fallen into such careless or incompetent
hands, and that some man was not at its head who could have managed
to have thrown upon Canadian soil, at Fort Erie and one or two other
points, a force to act separately or in conjunction with sufficient
effect to completely paralyse all opposition in Western Canada, among an
already excited and incongruous host, who could have been easily swept
before a compact handful of troops fired by a spirit so lofty and a
resolve so unconquerable as that which actuated the brave little band of
patriots who have made the 2d day of June, 1866, famous in the annals of
the Irish race on this continent and on the other side of the Atlantic.
Let it be thoroughly understood, that although the fortress of Quebec
is considered the Gibraltar of this continent, it is in the midst of
an Irish and French population absolutely hostile to British rule. The
French, like the children of Ireland, never were and never can be loyal
to England; and there are but few men in Lower Canada to-day, who would
not rather see the American flag floating over Cape Diamond at the
present moment, than the blood-stained standard which proclaims it in
the grasp of a tyrant. From this we infer, that had Toronto, Kingston
and Montreal fallen into the hands of the invaders, Quebec could not
fail to soon follow; and then for the fitting out of Irish Republican
privateers that would requite all the depredations of the Alabama
ten-fold, and cripple the commerce of England, as she had destroyed that
of the United States during the last war. General O’Neill had all this
in his eye, and was ready to push the case to the mouth of the St.
Lawrence, and there commence active operations against the merchant
service of the common enemy of both Ireland and America; sweeping it
from the high seas, and striking the tyrant in her Counting House, as
one of her most vulnerable points. There could have been no difficulty
in managing all this, had a sufficient force been thrown into the
Province at the time already mentioned; nor can it be attended with much
difficulty at any moment, provided the right men are placed at the head
of the Fenian War Department. Canada is doomed, whomsoever her conqueror
may be; so the sooner her people experience the change which is sure
to overtake her, the sooner shall she be restored to internal peace,
prosperity and security; from all of which she is now excluded, and
must remain so, as long as she continues part and parcel of the British
Empire.
As by this time, the invading army had been in the Province for a
portion of two days and two nights, the country generally was pretty
well excited; but particularly in and about the section where the
invaders had taken up their position, as well as along the line of Col.
Peacock’s march. Still there did not appear any very marked disposition
on the part of the actual settlers in these quarters to take a decided
part in stemming the invasion. It appears to us, that it was simply the
government that moved through agencies, in this connection, which
could not well disregard or resist their commands, rather than any
antagonistic, out-spoken sentiment of the people, that had developed
itself into active hostility against the Fenian forces. Be this as it
may, the numbers hastily brought against the invaders were large in
comparison with their own rank and file; and had they been actuated by a
spirit similar to that which made a host of each individual Fenian, the
fortunes of the day could not have failed to have been otherwise than
they subsequently turned out to be. Again, let it be understood, that
the majority of the little band who withstood the tempest shock at
Ridgeway, were fresh from the fields of the South and used to the song
of the bullet and the roar of artillery, as the great bulk of the army
of the Irish Republic in America is to-day; while even the British
regulars who were marching on Ridgeway were, with all their pretensions,
but feather-bed soldiers who were totally out of practice of the real
field, and had for many a day exhibited their pluck and discipline at
general reviews or sham battles only. This we hold to weigh heavily on
the side of the Irish National forces, and to decide in their favor, in
advance, in any fight with treble their number of such an enemy--that
is, we are of the fixed impression, that any hundred picked men from the
force now under the gallant O’Neill, will beat, in open fight, any
three hundred of the British army brought against them, all things being
equal, with the exception of numbers. And why?--simply because in
one case the belligerents would be fighting for the traditions and
independence of the land of their love, while in the other they would,
as a general, thing, be fighting for about six-pence a day.
As soon as Colonel Booker and his command took the road towards
Stevensville, Greaves, who was as daring as a man could be, and who
was besides well acquainted with military tactics, procured a rifle, a
soldiers jacket, cap and accoutrements, and started forth in the wake
of the volunteers, with the rear guard of which he soon came up. The
accoutrements he wore belonged to one of the volunteers who, like many
of the men under Colonel Peacock, took suddenly ill as they approached
the Fenian lines, and fell out of the ranks. Fortunately for the spy, he
found in this guard the very comrade of the man who was left behind at
the village, and having received permission from the officer in charge,
fell into the ranks with him and held on his way, as though he were an
ordinary member of the force.
On the other hand, the Kid, on parting with Greaves, took his way in
the direction in which he knew the invaders were slowly and cautiously
moving, in order to get between Booker and Peacock, and defeat one
command before it could form a juncture with the other. On approaching
their lines, the steady tramp of which he could hear, he fell rapidly in
the rear, where, true to their instincts, he found Black Jack and Wilson
following in the team of the latter at a respectable distance, and
anxiously waiting for the first volley that should give intimation that
an engagement had commenced.
“By ----,” exclaimed Wilson, as his acquaintance jumped into the wagon,
“this is coming to rather close quarters.”
“If so be,” replied Jack, “as there vos henny har tillery in the vay, it
might urt the missuses jam pots, seein as ‘ow we can’t be much hover a
mile from them, from this ‘ere place.”
“Scarcely that,” returned the Kid, “and what’s more, from the course
the Fenians are taking, they must soon be into it against three or four
times their number, and serve them right; but what luck have you had
during the night?” he continued, turning to Jack, “although I suspect
there was not much chance in the direction in which you spent it.”
“Call this a hinvasion?” retorted Jack, “vy these coves ‘av only a
come hover to show their good breedin and spend their money amongst the
Canadians, instead of doin the decent thing like as ow it vos done in
Hindia and the Peninsoola, veh the real harmy cut, burned and plundered
hall afore ‘em, ‘and carried hoff, from old and young, bags of the most
precious svag. This is disgustin. Honly fancy the fellows a behavin as
if they vos on knight herranty of the hancient times, instead of givin
a cove a chance of to do a little business among the walluables of Fort
Erie, or hany hother place in the wicinity. I tell ‘ee what, Kid, I’m
sorry as vee hever comed hover--that I be; and I vish I vos veil back
again behind my hown counter.”
“Don’t be down-hearted,” replied the Kid, “for there will be fun
somewhere soon, when these invaders will have to fall back on Fort Erie,
where there may be a muss, or else the Canadians will have to retreat
towards the village I have but recently left, so that in either case
there may yet be a chance to throw something into the bottom of the
wagon, and then in our turn fall back on friend Wilson’s, here.”
In this way the conversation was continued, while the horses moved
slowly along the road taken by the invaders, and at such a distance
from the rear of the force, as not to be visible to any of the soldiers;
until, just as the three companions we’re passing through a patch of
woods about a quarter of a mile from the rear guard of the invaders,
they were suddenly startled by the report of firearms in the direction
of the troops, just ahead of them. This report was followed by another,
and yet another, and now by one continuous volley. The famous battle of
Ridgeway had commenced!