We were all summoned by the Colonel, John McGill, to assemble at the town hall. My father shouldered his double-barrelled fowling-piece, and I grasped a green “shillelah” in default of a gun, and repaired with many others to the rendezvous. The illustration at [page 236] is of the “awkward squad” who thus mustered in valiant defence of their native town.
It should not, however, be viewed with too critical an eye. Remember we were all summoned at five minutes’ notice, no time being given even to change our clothes. Every second the Fenians were expected to march up Simcoe Street from Port Oshawa.
We prepared to march—men with guns in front, those with forks next, and those with clubs in the rear. There were, however, many in the town who did not prepare to march, but who ran and hid, fancying “one live coward is worth two dead heroes.” Men, somehow, were rather scarce there just then. We stood upon our arms, forks and clubs, waiting for the word—which was never given.
Another horseman came from Port Oshawa, and told us a boat’s crew had come ashore for milk and provisions, as well as to get their reckoning, not knowing where they were. Inoffensive fellows enough, but they deserved a drubbing for giving us needless alarm.
This state of feeling or tension was not confined to our neighborhood, but was common to the country generally.
Finding there was no immediate attack imminent, our courage began to rise, and we in that town hall, resting upon our arms or clubs, became anxious to “wipe out” the enemy. Night patrols were set—first night, men with guns; next night, those who had forks borrowed the guns; next, club-men took their turn.
My father, always somewhat of a wag, arrested a young man about eleven o’clock at night by threatening to fire if he did not halt. He halted. It was young Allen, whom my father knew well. He begged hard to be let off, but that could not be permitted unless he explained why he was out so late. “I have just been over to Mr. Cinnamon’s to see his daughter. Please let me go.” “Well, don’t you be caught out so late again courting,” and he was let off for the time. In a few nights the watch was discontinued. But no Fenians came that year.
The following year, 1866, they came and, landing, raided the shore of Lake Erie, and the battle at Ridgeway was the result. There a number of the militia who were called out to defend the country, many of them mere lads, were killed. Others died later from the effects of the over-exertion and excitement. Among the former was young Willie Tempest, from Oshawa, a Trinity College (Toronto), student, who went to the front with his company in the Queen’s Own Rifles.
The indignation and patriotic excitement throughout the country proved to the invaders and any sympathizers with them within our borders that Canadians were loyal to their own Government and would not suffer invasion of their soil.
Called to a knowledge of the breach of national law in allowing the arming of a hostile force within her territory, the United States Government gave the necessary orders to her officials. This, following the ill-success of the raid, put a stop to active Fenianism on our western boundary line for the time.