large sums of money rolling in to the coffers of the organisation;
although, as always the case with Irish movements, dissensions
reigned within the ranks. The Stephens section, now presided over
by John Savage, who had succeeded John O’Mahony, was constantly
attacking the Senate wing, and many and bitter were the feuds which
raged. In my position as Inspector-General of the Irish Republican
Army, I was fully engaged in my old work of inspecting the companies,
and directing the location of arms along the Canadian country for
coming active operations. In this way I distributed fifteen thousand
stands of arms and almost three million rounds of ammunition in the
care of the many trusted men stationed between Ogdensburg and St.
Albans. Some thousands of these guns were breech-loaders, which had
been re-modelled from United States Government “Springfields” at the
arms factory, leased, and “run” by the organisation at Trenton, New
Jersey. The depôt from which the bulk were packed and shipped was
“Quinn and Nolan’s” of Albany. Quinn was a United States Congressman
and Senator of the Fenian Brotherhood; and Nolan, that very Mayor
Nolan so prominently mentioned by Mr. Parnell in his evidence as
one of the eminently conservative (!) gentlemen who received him in
America. Constantly the recipient of compliments for the admirable
way in which I discharged my duty, I was now promoted to the office
of Assistant Adjutant-General, with the rank of Colonel; and my new
position enabled me not only to become possessed of the originals of
every document, plan of proposed campaign, &c., but also specimens of
the Fenian army commissions and uniforms of the time, which of course
I conveyed to the officials of the Canadian Government.
Successful as I was in evading detection through all this work,
those assisting me in my Secret Service capacity were not always
destined to share in my good luck. This was particularly the case
on one occasion. I was at the time shipping arms at Malone, N.Y.,
and attended, on behalf of the Canadian Government, by one of the
staff of men placed at my disposal for the purposes of immediate
communication and the transit of any documents requiring secrecy
and despatch, as well as for personal protection, should such prove
necessary. This man, John C. Rose, was one of the most faithful and
trusted servants of the Canadian administration, and for months he
followed me along the whole border. Though stopping at the same
hotels, and in constant communication with me, no suspicion was
aroused, until his identity was disclosed by a visitor from the seat
of Government at Ottawa to G. J. Mannix, the head-centre of that
Gibraltar of Fenianism, Malone. Men were immediately set to watch him
without my knowledge, and the fact of his being found always in my
wake on my visits to and return from several towns led to the belief
that he was spying upon my actions. A few nights after this belief
had been formed, poor Rose, on his return from sending a despatch
from the post-office, was waylaid, robbed, and brutally beaten, and
subsequently brought back to the hotel in as sorry a plight as I
ever saw. I was immediately advised by my Fenian friends as to the
dangerous character of this mutual enemy of ours, as he was termed;
and though shocked and embittered by the treatment accorded to the
poor devoted fellow, I had, for politic reasons, to applaud their
cowardly assault, and to denounce my brave friend, who was bearing
all his sufferings in silence and with a splendid spirit. For months
poor Rose was quite prostrated, and through this act of my brother
Fenians, I was deprived of the services and co-operation of as
faithful and capable an ally as ever was given me.
In the winter of 1869, the Fenian Senate announced the completion of
the arrangements for the invasion; and in the month of December the
Ninth Annual Convention was called in New York. In connection with
this convention, I was called upon to perform a little act which
served to more closely knit the bonds of friendship between O’Neill
and myself, and, if possible, to obtain for me an even larger share
of his confidence than I had hitherto enjoyed. O’Neill, as was
customary in Irish revolutionary circles, had, in his capacity of
leader, been making free with the funds of the organisation. In a
word, he had been spending for personal purposes monies received from
the circles or camps. Professor Brophy, the Treasurer, one of the
few honest deluded Irish patriots of the time, refused to cook the
accounts in order to cover the President’s delinquencies. The books
had to be submitted to the Convention, and O’Neill was in a frightful
difficulty. In his embarrassment he came to me, and, to my surprise,
made a clean breast of the whole matter. The opportunity was too good
a one to be lost. I advanced the money, and took his note of hand,
thus saving his reputation before the Convention.
Need I say that money was never repaid me. Surely not! The only
memento which I have of my dollars is O’Neill’s note of hand, which,
as a curiosity, I have preserved to this date. It is certainly an
interesting document, so I give it here.
“NEW YORK, _April 19, 1870_.
“$364, 41/100.
“Received from Colonel H. le Caron, three hundred and sixty-four
dollars and 41/100, borrowed money, to be returned whenever
demanded.
“JOHN O’NEILL.
“_Pres. F.B._”
A council of war followed, and all was now activity. In view of
active operations in Canada, all monies were called in, and orders
were issued from head-quarters to have in readiness all the military
organisations. The final order was issued in April as follows:—
“HEAD-QUARTERS FENIAN BROTHERHOOD,
“NO. 10 WEST FOURTH STREET,
“NEW YORK, _February 10, 1870_.
“P.O. BOX 5141.
“_To the Military Officers of the Fenian Brotherhood._
“BROTHERS,—You have, no doubt, ere this received general orders
No. 1 from General Michael Kerwin, Secretary of War, F.B.
(head-quarters, No. 50 North 12th Street, Philadelphia, Penna).
_A strict compliance with the requirements thereof is hereby
imperatively demanded._ The success or failure of our holy cause
now depends upon the prompt and energetic performance of the
duties incumbent upon each and all of us, and upon none does the
responsibility rest so heavily as upon the military officers of the
F.B.
“Brothers, if you be so situated that business or family duties
will prevent you from getting your commands in readiness for
_active and immediate service_, you will please forward your
resignations to the Secretary of War _at once_, and at the same
time send on the names of persons suitable to take your places. If
you are thoroughly in earnest, you will not hesitate to give your
assistance to those who may be appointed to fill the vacancies
created by your voluntary withdrawal from the positions to which
you have been commissioned.
“Your duty, if circumstances permit, will be to get your men in
readiness at the earliest practicable moment. If you should resign,
this duty will devolve upon your successors. If there are any arms,
ammunition, or military clothing within your knowledge which can
be forwarded to certain points, to be named hereafter, so inform
the Secretary of War, whom you will address in reply to this
circular, and he will, on receipt of your communications, forward
_private instructions_ with regard to your respective commands.
“Pay no attention to what may appear upon the surface or in
newspapers. We mean fight—speedy fight—_and nothing else, thigin
thu_?[2]
“Officers receiving copies of Military Oath with this circular will
sign the same in presence of witness, and return to the Secretary
of War.
“Ascertain and report how many of your men can and will furnish
their own transportation, and in the meantime try and persuade all
of them to save enough for that purpose. Military men should not
forget that the civic circles have supplied the means wherewith
to provide breech-loaders, ammunition, &c. &c. Their liberality
in these regards will, to a limited extent, relieve them from the
responsibility of advancing the means of transportation. They will
not, however, hesitate to co-operate with the military branch of
the F.B. in this matter.
“_Preserve the utmost secrecy with regard to this circular, and
reply at once._ Delay, and you are guilty of neglect of duty!
“Yours fraternally,
“JOHN O’NEILL,
“_President Fenian Brotherhood_.
“HEAD-QUARTERS, WAR DEPARTMENT, F.B.,
“DECKERTOWN, SUSSEX COUNTY, N.J.,
“_April 28, 1870_.
“General Orders.
“No....
“Commanding officers of regiments, companies, and detachments will
hold their respective commands in readiness to move at a moment’s
notice.
“Officers of circles having no military organisations attached
will immediately take the necessary steps to organise the military
of their neighbourhoods, and forward to this office the names of
officers selected, so that they may be commissioned.
“Commanding officers of companies will get as many men as possible
ready to move at once, leaving to the civic officers the task of
collecting and forwarding—if possible within twenty-four hours
thereafter—those who may not be able to move with the first
detachments.
“Officers and men must avoid the use of uniforms or any insignia
that would distinguish them.
“Officers must not be recognised by military titles, and officers
or men must not speak of Fenian matters while _en route_.
“Take no man who is a loafer or a habitual drunkard.
“Take no man who has not seen service, or who has not sufficient
character to ensure his good behaviour _en route_ and in presence
of the enemy.
“Any arms, uniforms, or war material remaining in the hands of
circles _must be immediately_ packed and forwarded to the points
designated in circular of February 19, 1870.
“Hold no communications with any person not authorised from these
head-quarters. All letters relating to military matters must be
addressed to M. Kerwin, Deckertown, Sussex County, New Jersey.
“Let no consideration prevent a prompt compliance with this order.
“M. KERWIN,
“_Brig.-Gen. and Sec. of War_.
“Approved,
“JOHN O’NEILL,
“_President Fenian Brotherhood_.
“H. le Caron,
“_Col. and Adj.-General_.”
XV.
At this time I was out West, and receiving a telegram from O’Neill,
directing me to meet him in Buffalo, I hurried thither without
delay. I reached that city only to find that O’Neill had ordered
an immediate movement on Canada, and that, as he phrased it, “no
power on earth could stop it.” This condition of things startled and
surprised me. His determination in the way of immediate action was
opposed to the decision of the last council of war, and my chiefs in
Canada would, I feared, be quite unprepared. I at once telegraphed
the authorities at Ottawa, and was soon in personal communication
with their trusted agents in Buffalo. Fortunately, as matters turned
out, the plan of action was the same as decided upon at the last
council of war, the full details of which the authorities possessed;
and so the situation was not so complex as I had at first feared.
The next few days were busy ones. All military commanders were
ordered to report at given points with their commands; instructions
were issued for the placement of arms by the following Tuesday, at
rendezvous near the line at Franklin and Malone, and I was appointed
Adjutant-General with the rank of Brigadier-General. We had quick
promotion and brave ranks in the Fenian army!
On Saturday, April 22, 1870, O’Neill and I left Buffalo for St.
Albans, he full of enthusiasm and the belief that the Canadians
would be taken entirely by surprise, I laughing to myself at his
coming discomfiture. We arrived at Milton, Vermont, at daylight on
the following morning, to find that everything was proceeding most
satisfactorily. Prompt action had been taken by those in charge of
the munitions of war, and by the following Tuesday morning sufficient
war material for our army was ready at the appointed places.
This second and last invasion of Canada differed in many respects
from that of 1866. Then the raid was loudly advertised for months
before it actually took place. This time everything was different.
Secrecy (as it was supposed) covered every move and intention. Had
not the Canadian authorities been fully advised, the results, under
the circumstances, would have been undoubtedly serious. There was
another important feature about this second raid, and that was its
preparedness. Matters in connection with the first affair had been
of a very happy-go-lucky character. Now the services of a number
of ex-military men of undoubted ability had been secured, and war
material for at least twelve thousand men was actually on the ground.
O’Neill’s ideas may be set forth in very few words. The chief object
he had in view was to obtain possession of Canada, not as the
permanent seat of an Irish republic, but as the only vulnerable point
of attack—the base for operations against England. His theory was
that the Fenians needed the ports and shipyards of the Dominion from
which they could despatch privateers to prey upon English shipping.
By the possession of territory he anticipated they could claim and
obtain the rights of belligerents from the United States. In this
event he held the promise of many men, eminent on the side of both
North and South during the War of Rebellion, to enroll themselves
under the Irish banner, and to command expeditions which it was
fondly hoped and expected would wrest Ireland from the hands of the
oppressor.
His plan was to get across the boundary line without delay, and then
to intrench himself at a point where his small contingent would form
the nucleus round which a large army and unlimited support would
rally from the United States. Buffalo, Malone, and Franklin were
the three points from which attacks were to be made. However, “the
best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft aglee.” O’Neill expected
1000 men to meet him at Franklin on the night of Tuesday, April 25,
1870. The history of 1866 repeated itself. As was the case then,
so now, only a quarter of the number presented themselves. By the
following morning only 500 had mustered. Every hour’s delay added
to the danger of failure and collapse; and so he feared to postpone
the arrangements any longer. I viewed the situation with a good deal
of equanimity, for on the previous night all my trusty messengers
had departed, carrying full details as to the time, exact points of
crossing, numbers, place of operations, &c., to the enemy’s lines.
At eleven o’clock on Wednesday, O’Neill left the Franklin Hotel to
place himself at the head of the Fenian army, not without hope and
confidence, yet struggling with the disappointing fact that one-half
his men had not arrived. His chief anxiety appeared to be that the
Canadians would not give him a chance to fight. He misapprehended the
situation on this score, however, as subsequent events showed.
Hubbard’s Farm, the Fenian camp and rendezvous, was situated about
half a mile from Franklin, and here all the available “invaders”
were mustered. Arranging them in line, O’Neill addressed them as
follows:—
“Soldiers, this is the advance-guard of the Irish-American army for
the liberation of Ireland from the yoke of the oppressor. For your
own country you enter that of the enemy. The eyes of your countrymen
are upon you. Forward. March.”
And march they did, O’Neill, as he departed at their head,
instructing me to bring to his support on their arrival a party of
400 men then _en route_ from St. Albans.
XVI.
Careless of consequences, I waited to see what would happen. As I
stood on the brow of the hill where our company was situated, the
scene was indeed worthy of my study. Ludicrous as were many of the
elements which went to make it up, the charm of nature was superior
to them all, and commanded my tribute of respect and admiration.
Right below me was a pretty valley, down the very centre of which
flowed a little creek marking the boundary of Canadian territory, and
dividing by its narrow course the Canadian from American soil. A soft
pleasant sward sloped gracefully down from where I stood to its bank,
while on the other side there rose in graceful outlines the monarchs
of a Canadian forest, overtopped by a rocky cliff standing out in
bold and picturesque relief. The soft sweet breezes of the spring
morning played upon our faces, while the brilliant sunlight sent its
rays flashing upon our bayonets, and dancing on the waters underneath.
Nature was in her very best and sweetest mood, and yet little room
for appreciation of her charms existed in the breasts of those who,
sweeping down the valley’s side beneath me, were seeking, in their
own foolish way, to make “Ireland a nation once again.” They were a
funny crowd. All were armed, but few were uniformed. Here and there
a Fenian coat, with its green and grey faced with gold, caught the
eye, but only to stand out in contrast with the surrounding garments
of more sombre hue and everyday appearance. The men marched with
a certain amount of military precision, for all had received some
degree of military training. At last they reached the little wooden
bridge by which the water was crossed, and deploying as skirmishers
in close order, they advanced with fixed bayonets, cheering wildly.
Not a soul appeared in front. The dark Canadian trees hid from their
view the ambushed Canadian volunteers; and, fixed in their belief
that nothing was known of their coming, they advanced in a spirit of
effervescent enthusiasm. But not very far, however.
A few paces, and on their startled ears came the ringing ping, ping,
of the ambushed rifles, as the Canadians poured a deadly volley
straight into their ranks. Utterly taken aback, they stopped, broke
rank, and fled as in 1866, an ungovernable mob, to return for a
moment in order to pour a volley on their almost invisible enemy, and
to finally retreat up the hill to where I stood, still under the fire
of their adversaries, leaving their dead to be subsequently buried by
the Canadians.
On the slope of the hill was a large structure known as Richard’s
Farm, to which the invaders retreated and continued their firing,
ineffective as it was.
Seeing that all was over here, for a time at least, I hurried off
to the point where the St. Albans contingent had by now arrived,
and were arming. The process took some time, and while engaged
in superintending it, I was afforded practical evidence of the
termination of O’Neill’s part in the fight. Standing in the middle
of the public road where the men were forming into line—it was now
half-past one, the “battle” which I have just described having taken
place about 11.30—I was startled by the cry, “Clear the road, clear
the road!” and almost knocked down by a furiously driven team of
horses, to which was attached a covered carriage. As the conveyance
flashed by me, I caught through the carriage window a hurried
glimpse of the dejected face of O’Neill, who was seated between
two men. I understood the situation in a moment, but said nothing.
To have given the command to shoot the horses as they turned an
adjacent corner would have been the work of an instant, but it was
no part of my purpose to restore O’Neill to his command. I learned
subsequently that O’Neill was in the custody of the United States
marshal, General Foster, who, acting with that precision so peculiar
to General Grant’s administration, when contrasted with that of
Andrew Johnson’s, had, in consequence of the information furnished,
arrived on the scene of the battle immediately after I left, and
arrested O’Neill for a breach of the Neutrality Laws. O’Neill, who
was in the company of his comrades, had at first refused submission,
and threatened force, but on General Foster placing a revolver at his
head, he gave in.
When the news of O’Neill’s arrest reached us later on in the
afternoon, a council of war was held, presided over by John Boyle
O’Reilly, of whom I have already spoken, the council being held in
a meadow, where we all stood in a circle. Contingents were hourly
arriving, and a strong attempt was made to get Boyle O’Reilly to
take command, and lead the attack at some other point, but in the end
nothing was done.
Next morning, General Spear, the Secretary of War of the Fenian
Brotherhood, arrived at St. Albans, and sought to do something
practical in the way of continuing the invasion. Through his
_aide-de-camp_, Colonel Brown, and subsequently in person, he
appealed to me to supply him with 400 or 500 stands of arms and
ammunition within twenty-four hours. Of course, it would never have
done for me to have allowed further operations, and so I pleaded
it was impossible under the condition of affairs then developed.
Thousands of Canadian troops had arrived on the border, and the arms
being located in places difficult to get at, they were out of reach
for the moment. Luckily for me, the appearance of United States
troops in the vicinity put any further attempt at war operations
out of the question, for in order to avoid arrest for breach of the
Neutrality Laws, the Fenians had to disappear with alacrity. I left
this point with the rest of them, and hurrying to Malone, another
of the places where rendezvous had been arranged, I found a similar
state of things prevailing here, although the arrest of O’Neill, and
the unexpected appearance of the United States troops, filled the
invaders with dismay, and utter demoralisation was the result.
XVII.
On Friday, April 27th, under the excuse that I was going to
Burlington to see about O’Neill, I went round by way of Rouses Point
to Montreal. I was elated with my success, and wanted to report
myself at head-quarters without delay. It would not, however, have
been safe for me to have gone direct to Ottawa, and so I travelled in
a roundabout way. On the Friday night I stopped with Judge Coursel,
the Commissioner of the Quebec police, and the following morning took
train to Ottawa. Before my journey concluded, I found I had been
altogether too premature in my self-congratulations. In fact, that
journey brought me even closer to discovery than I had ever been
before.
Nothing unusual happened till we got to Cornwall, where there was the
usual half-hour’s delay for dinner. Taking full advantage of it, I
was enjoying a hearty meal, when both my meal and peace of mind were
disturbed by an unlooked-for incident. Struck by an unusual commotion
at the door of the dining-room, I looked round to find advancing
towards me two men, one remarkable for his tall military appearance,
and the other for his clerical attire. All eyes were turned upon
them, and as I ceased eating for the moment to look up, I heard the
clerical-looking person say, as he pointed his finger towards me,
“That is the man.” Advancing, the tall man, who subsequently turned
out to be the mayor of Cornwall, speaking with a Scotch accent, said,
“You are my prisoner,” accompanying the words with a grasp of my
shoulder. I imagined there was some mistake, and laughed as I turned
to resume my dinner, asking at the same time what was the matter. Not
a movement, however, disturbed the solidity of my Scotch friend’s
face as he solemnly repeated the words, “You are my prisoner,”
adding, “you must come with me at once.”
As I learned subsequently, the priestly looking person was a
wandering preacher, who had happened to be in the vicinity of Malone
when I was locating arms there, and I had been pointed out to him
then as the leading Fenian agent. His memory was a very good one, and
he immediately recognised me when we met again.