About midnight the troops came up with Col. Hoy’s party, and after marching a considerable distance and then taking a couple of hours rest, the whole force made a cautious detour towards the direct line leading from Ridgeway to Chippewa; O’Neill being satisfied that he had already intercepted the junction of the British, and should be able to engage and defeat either one party or the other before they could both unite.
In this way the night was passed; every precaution being taken to guard against ambush or surprise, until morning became well advanced, and the invaders, after having emerged from a swamp through which they had marched, found themselves within three or four miles of Ridgeway.
It was at this point and period that the Kid, after leaving Greaves, had come up with, or rather encountered, the wagon with Black Jack and Wilson, who, as usual, kept moving slowly in the rear of the troops and sniffing, like blood-hounds or vultures, their prey in the distance.
As observed in a previous chapter, the two worthies had scarcely welcomed their companion or seen him comfortably seated beside them, before they were all aroused by the report of fire-arms, apparently ahead of the main body of the troops, which, as near as they could calculate, was about half a mile in advance. It was at this moment that the brave Col. Starr, who commanded the advance, got the first glimpse of the outposts of the enemy, which he at once charged and drove in like so many sheep; and this was the music heard by Wilson and his companions. Shortly afterwards, the main body of the enemy, commanded by Lieut. Col. Booker, from Port Colborne, were discovered, and the battle was opened by a speedy and judicious disposition of the Fenian forces, and the hasty throwing up of a rail barricade from behind which some of the Boys in Green commenced their work of destruction; while others of them kept the British skirmishers in hand in the woods hard by, and in a manner the most cool and artistic.
Any person who gets a view of Major Dennison’s map, in the work already mentioned, representing the disposition of the two antagonistic forces at Ridgeway, will at once be struck with the overwhelming numbers of that under the command of Col. Booker, compared with the compactness and fewness of the troops commanded by General O’Neill. In this chart we have the whole field studded, on the British side, with Highlanders, York Rifles, Trinity College Companies, University Rifles, the Queen’s Own and the 13th Field Battery, etc.; while on the side of the Army of the Irish Republic, as the diagram shows, we have but a handful of men, without artillery, and with but very few mounted officers. The circumstances under which the forces met, were favorable to Col. Booker, also; for not only had the British the advantage of a great superiority in numbers, stores and equipments, but they were engaged at their own doors, in the midst of a passive or friendly element, and with unlimited supplies and resources at their command; while, on the contrary, the men under General O’Neill were but poorly equipped, without supplies or proper ammunition—their bullets having, in some instances, to be pared on the field with a knife before they fitted the bore of their rifles—and were in the midst of an enemy’s country, surrounded on all sides by hostile battalions, and with but a slight hope of being reinforced before the enemy came down in overwhelming numbers upon them. This was a critical position, and well calculated to dismay any man less bold and courageous than O’Neill; but frightful as it was, he saw the necessity of accepting the situation. He remembered having, on the battle fields of the South, with but twenty men, defeated two hundred of a force under Hamilton, and run them in helpless disorder for a distance of thirteen miles; killing five of them with his own hand. He remembered, in addition, having, with a command of but fifty, charged, on the same fields, in defence of the American Union, two different regiments of the enemy, routed them, and recaptured the officers and guns of the Republic that had been previously taken by them; and remembering all this, his heart rose within him, and he felt that with his little band of Spartans, few as they were in number, he could work a double miracle when he met the tyrant of his name, his country and his race face to face. And so he did not stoop to measure the forces that were surrounding him; well knowing that, if all came to all, and that, if it were necessary for him to fall back upon the American shore, he could cut his way through them; as he was inclined to regard their numbers as but simple encumbrances to themselves; feeling, as he did, that they could be neither disciplined nor actuated by any proud impulses such as fired his own troops and his own bosom.
Buoyed with this spirit, and moved by the conviction that the eyes of the world were upon him, the first glimpse of the enemy was as one of sunshine to him; and as he looked around him and saw his brave officers and men towering and immoveable as cliffs in the presence of the angry deep, the strange fire so noticeable sometimes in his eye, blazed forth as though his soul went out in flame through each glaring orb; and the work of death had begun.
The battle of Ridgeway was commenced by skirmishers who were posted on both sides, among the woods and orchards with which that locality abounds; and although for some short period but little life was lost on the part of either the British or the Fenians, the daring of the latter had evidently confused and, in a degree, paralyzed the former from the first. In the woods, they gave the Highlanders a dreadful overhauling, and when pressed by numbers they steadily fell back upon the main body, with advantage to themselves and with loss to their opponents. When once aware of their position, and the great odds against them, in the incredible space of ten minutes, they threw up a breastwork of rails, from behind which they now began to deal the most deadly havoc amongst the enemy. The men engaged in more exposed positions, performed absolute miracles of valor, and charged the foe in the face of the most galling fire, until they actually touched their bayonets, and then poured in the murderous volley that shattered their ranks and strewed the field with their wounded and dying. As we learn from Major Denison, of the British forces, the Fenian officers were ever in front of their men, cheering them on to death or victory, and evincing such instances of true bravery as commanded the admiration of even those against whom they fought. Individual acts of the most terrible daring were performed by them, and so generally did the whole of O’Neil’s staff, including his gallant Aid-de-Camp, Lieut. Rudolph Fitzpatrick, as well as all the officers of the various companies, participate in the dreadful struggle, that even to this hour no writer has attempted to give any one of them pre-eminence over the other. And so of the rank and file, also. Scarce a single man of them, at one period, but was spattered with the blood of the enemy; and never did a solitary knot of them give way, for an instant, before any force that they were ordered to withstand. Wherever they moved the dead and wounded tumbled before them, until, fatigued by the frightful heat of the weather, they were, from time to time, constrained to pause in their dreadful work.
The engagement had continued for about an hour, when the brave Lieut. Lonergan bit the dust, while a cheer for Ireland struggled through the death rattle in his throat. He fell, a true hero and patriot, and well was his death avenged; for no sooner had its intelligence spread through his company, than its members became absolute tigers, and literally glutted themselves with blood. Then it was, that the Sun-burst carried through that hot field, from beginning to end, by Sergeant John Smith, of the 7th I.R.A., company G, might be seen flying where the enemy was thickest, surrounded by a struggling band, each of which was a host himself. Then it was, that the wild cry of “Erin go bragh!” smote on the ear of the foe like a death knell, paralyzed all their energies, and froze the warm current in their heart. At that moment a dozen men in green were worth a regiment of the material he fought against; and thus it was, that the enemy determined to mass all their forces against the gallant O’Neill, who stood like a rock amid the dreadful conflict, giving his orders with as much coolness as if he were dictating a letter; and, while the bullets whistled about him like hail, applauding the noble deeds of his men and officers, the next moment to be whirled into the dreadful melee himself.
With the keen, quick eye of a soldier, O’Neill perceived the intention of his adversary, who had, now, as he saw clearly, made up his mind to mass all his force against the Fenian troops and flank them. At this point the Boys in Green were ordered to fall steadily back and take up a new position, some distance in the rear of their rail barricade. The movement was performed in the most masterly manner; while the enemy continued to extend his wings—both right and left. On perceiving it, however, he construed it, as it was intended he should, into a retreat, and paused for a moment to consider what was best to be done. While deliberating, however, O’Neill, who had in vain been for some time endeavoring to draw out his centre, perceiving that the moment had arrived, sounded the charge, and, the next instant, the whole compact body of the invaders, with himself and his officers at their head, were thundering down, with the sweep of the Cyclone, upon the weak and startled centre of the foe, crashing through it like a cavalcade of thunder bolts, and scattering the whole of the English forces like chaff before the wind!
In the twinkling of an eye the enemy was flying in every direction before the victorious army of the Irish Republic! In their ignoble flight they divested themselves of all the clothing they could decently spare, and of everything that could tend to impede their progress! The field was strown with their great coats, knapsacks, rifles, and musical instruments belonging to their bands. Their dead and dying were left unheeded, and in every direction lay the unmistakable evidences of their sudden disaster and hopeless defeat. The compactness and dreadful resolve of the force slung against them by O’Neill, and the masterly way in which the bolt was hurled, at once bid defiance to all their pre-conceived ideas of fighting, or of the wonders that could be attained by a handful of brave men, commanded by a dauntless and experienced soldier; so, that their rumored attempt at rallying is supposed to have originated in a desire on the part of their historian, to lessen the disgrace of their defeat in the eyes of the people of Canada; for it is well known, that so hot and heavy was the pursuit, that they not only had no time to rally, but so intent was each one of them on effecting his own personal safety, that all discipline was at an end; until the Fenians, on perceiving that they were not yet reinforced, felt it advisable, notwithstanding their success, to fall back on Fort Erie, for the purpose of keeping their line of communication open with the American shore.