A Story of the Telegraph

by John Murray

Cutting Down the Liberty Pole.

In 1857 the following amusing incident occurred and will be remembered by some of the older inhabitants of the pretty American city on the south bank of the St. Lawrence where I was then the agent of the Montreal Telegraph Company.

The villagers (it was a village at that period) had made every preparation for the due celebration of Independence Day with more than ordinary care, and all were looking forward to the event with eagerness, especially the more youthful element of the population. The first ceremony observed at sunrise was to raise old glory to the apex of the liberty pole, which stood at the corner of Ford and Water Streets, but, to the amazement of the party to whom this duty was assigned, there was no pole to be seen. On a close examination they found nothing remaining but the stump of the flag-staff. The question was: Who were the ruffians that dared to perpetuate the outrage? None other surely that some scoundrels from the opposite side of the river. In this surmise they were not far from the truth. After indulging in language more forcible than elegant, like practical Americans, they set to work, erected a temporary flag-staff and the ceremonies of the day were carried out without further incident. It was discovered to be a case of lex talionis on the part of some young men from Prescott who rowed across the river during the night and performed this piece of vandalism in revenge for a foray made by some young fellows from Ogdensburg on the previous 24th of May (the Queen’s Birthday), when they removed the British flag flying on the old Windmill at Prescott, and substituted the Stars and Stripes. When this fact became known the Ogdensburg people had to acknowledge it was a case of tit for tat and served them right.

Fortunately these youthful pranks were condemned by all right thinking people on both sides of the border and were not repeated.

The Burns Centenary.

On the 25th day of January, 1859, the birthday centenary of Robert Burns, the Scottish poet, was enthusiastically commemorated by his admirers on both sides of the Atlantic, and, in fact, everywhere throughout the Globe where Scotchmen were to the fore.

It was generally observed in the form of a banquet at which eminent literary and public men were the speakers who paid glowing tributes to the merits and genius of the peasant poet. Many of these addresses are still preserved.

In the town of Brockville, where I was located, a musical and literary entertainment was held in the Metropolitan Hall, the chairman being the Hon. James Morris. It was well attended by the leading people of the town. During the progress of the entertainment telegraphic congratulatory messages were interchanged between the chairmen of the different meetings then being held in Canada, and the United States, generally couched in lines and phrases from the poet’s works. The chairman gave an eloquent address; other speakers also contributed and the musical programme was excellent, but one gentleman had prepared with much care a paper on the Life and Character of Burns, which was admitted to be the gem of the evening by all who heard it, but unfortunately very few did.

The person referred to was a well-known M.D. who was afflicted with deafness; he spoke in a very low tone of voice, like many who suffer from a similar infirmity. The paper was long, the night was getting late; before he was through, the audience showed signs of weariness, which the chairman noticed, when he rose and begged the Doctor to kindly curtail his paper as the night was advancing and he had several other items on the programme but the chairman’s request was unheard and unconsciously ignored. The audience had to patiently endure the martyrdom to the end, a few meanwhile retiring in disgust.