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:
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 and his prisoner moving in the same direction, some distance in the rear.
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