A Story of the Telegraph

by John Murray

When in the summer of 1866 the Fenians invaded Canada and encountered the Canadian militia at Ridgeway, considerable alarm was felt all along the frontier. Cornwall, Prescott, Brockville and Kingston were strengthened with bodies of militia as being probable points of invasion.

For a time the Government took possession of the telegraph lines until all danger had passed.

Telegraph offices were kept open day and night by orders from Ottawa; this continued in force for several weeks. I was then at Brockville and found the long hours very irksome. No one believed in the likelihood of an attack here, but one night this belief was rather disturbed when a communication was received by the officer in command warning him to be on the alert as a body of Fenians had seized a steamer at Clayton, on the American side of the river, with the probability of attacking Brockville or Prescott.

Very soon the sound of the bugle was heard and the men formed in readiness to meet the enemy. They had been drilling for several weeks and were in splendid fighting trim, and under the command of an experienced officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Atcherley, D.A.G., who had seen service in the Crimea and India, in whom officers and men had the utmost confidence. A home guard was hastily organized to watch the river front and give timely notice should any suspicious craft appear. During the prevailing excitement some one rang the town alarm bell, when the citizens were aroused from their beds, and the streets were soon crowded with men, women and children eager to learn what was the cause of the alarm. Many amusing scenes were witnessed. A few timid souls procured teams, loaded them with household effects, and with their families started for safer quarters in the back country. Many old veterans of the Canadian rebellion were seen carrying weapons of defense, but appeared more likely to be offensive only to themselves.

One aged gentleman carried a sword with a rope in lieu of belt and minus the scabbard; he refused to waste time looking for such appendages at such a time; the naked sword was good enough for him. The night was dark and ominous; every one awaited coming events with anxiety and more or less nervousness, and dawn began to appear, but no signs of the enemy. Meanwhile some of the home guard got tired waiting for the Fenians, who declined to come, and they one by one segregated to enjoy the comforts of their own firesides or seek repose on their downy beds at home. In this action the officer commanding the home guard preceded his men and was the first to retire, but one of their number a sturdy Scot, having been placed on an eminence favorable to scan the movements of the craft on the river, he held on to his post, however. His family hunted him up and had much difficulty on prevailing upon him to come home.

The only fatality that occurred was the death of an old lady, who, nearing the end, collapsed suddenly when hearing the alarm bell and told the reason for its being rung.

Shortly after the Fenian fiasco became a thing of the past.

Professor Morse’s Valedictory Message.

In 1870, when Mr. Morse had entered his eightieth year, it was felt by many telegraph men that some fitting recognition should be paid to the illustrious inventor before the close of his valuable life, which was now nearing the end.