The Continental Army In Canada





On the Sunday following Sir Guy Carleton's departure from Montreal, as

the people were proceeding to church, they were thrown into a state of

great alarm by the tidings of the landing of Montgomery's force on the

Island of Montreal itself, at the spot where now the great Victoria

Bridge springs from the shore, this densely-packed manufacturing

district being then swamps and meadows. There was no hope of attempting

defence under the circumstances, so both French and English, represented

by an important committee of the foremost inhabitants of the town,

headed by Col. Pierre Guy, entered into terms with Montgomery respecting

persons and property. At nine o'clock in the morning, Nov. 13, 1775, the

American troops marched in through the same gate by which Amherst had

entered sixteen years before. Just inside the walls was the most

sumptuous private dwelling in the city, called the Chateau Fortier. Its

walls were hung with beautiful tapestries wrought in historical scenes,

and its rooms were elegantly furnished and elaborately wainscotted. This

old house still stands among the tall, business blocks, strong yet as a

fortress, with high tin roof and deep windows and doors. It is now used

as a tavern, but even this does not spoil the charm of its unique

exterior, which still remains unchanged since the winter of 1775, when

Montgomery and his officers held their mess here, and the descendants of

the Puritans changed the character of the French chateau, as Oliver

Cromwell and his "Roundheads," a century before, altered that of the

English palace of Whitehall.



Little or nothing is known of what happened in Montreal during the

autumn of 1775, when the Army of Congress held possession of the town.

There may, and doubtless were, some sympathizers in the city who

frequented the Chateau Fortier, but the loyalists avoided its vicinity

as much as policy permitted. The French and English ladies looked

askance at the American soldiers, and if a town, invested by an enemy,

indulged in any form of merriment, it is probable that no invitation was

ever addressed to General Montgomery or Brigadier-General Wooster. In

their rounds of the town it may have been that glimpses of home

gatherings in the firelight may have given to these men of war many a

twinge of homesickness for hearths across the border, where women who

had been clad in satin and brocade sat spinning homespun, and were

content to drink spring water from the hills, while the tea they had

loved to sip in their Colonial drawing-rooms was floating about the

Boston beaches. If the Boys in blue and buff encountered any of the

Montreal maidens in their walks by the river, or glanced at them as they

passed through the gates to wander in the maple woods around, the

English girls passed them haughtily with a cold disdain in their blue

eyes, and the French demoiselles flashed a fine scorn from the depths of

their dark orbs, which wounded as keenly as a thrust of steel.



Events followed each other so rapidly across the line that Montgomery,

tired of inaction, resolved to carry out before the year ended his

cherished plan of making an assault on Quebec, and proceeded to join

Arnold's men, who, half-famished and in rags, had arrived outside that

city's walls.



Arnold, who was born at Norwich, Connecticut, Jan. 14, 1741, was, it is

said, a very handsome man, but his character was a striking combination

of contradictory qualities, and his career marked by extremes. He was

the bearer of a letter from General Washington to the Canadians, in

which was written: "We have taken up arms in defence of our liberty, our

property, our wives and our children. The Grand American Congress has

sent an army into your province, not to plunder but to protect you. To

co-operate with this design I have detached Col. Arnold into your

country, with a part of the Army under my command. Come then, ye

generous citizens, range yourselves under the standard of general

liberty, against which all the force of artifice and tyranny will never

be able to prevail."



Arnold with his two regiments, numbering together about eleven hundred

men, had left Boston in the month of September, with the fixed intention

of penetrating the unbroken wilderness which lay between the two cities.

On the twenty-second of the month he embarked with his troops on the

Kennebec River, in two hundred batteaux, and notwithstanding "all the

natural impediments, the ascent of the rapid streams, interrupted by

frequent portages, through thick woods and swamps, in spite of

accidents, the desertion of one-third of their number, difficulties and

privations so great as on one occasion to compel them to kill their dogs

for sustenance;" after thirty-two days of the perils of this wilderness

march they came in sight of the first settlement near Quebec.



About a week later, when darkness had fallen along the river shores and

lights twinkled from the little dwellings of the lower town on the

opposite bank, they embarked in canoes for a silent passage across, and

arrived early in the morning at Wolfe's Cove, where, sixteen years

before, a similar landing had been effected, with the same purpose in

view of assaulting the garrison in the seemingly impregnable fortress.

For weeks the blockade was maintained, the American troops being

established in every house near the walls, more especially in the

vicinity of the Intendant's Palace, which once had been gorgeous with

the prodigal luxury and magnificence for which this old Chateau had been

notorious. The roughly-shod New England soldiers tramped through the

rooms and up the noble staircases on which ladies of fashion had glided

when the infamous Intendant Bigot had disgraced his King and office by

his profligacies. These men, establishing themselves in the cupola,

found it an excellent vantage point to fire upon and annoy the sentries

on guard.



On the 5th of December General Montgomery arrived with his troops from

Montreal and joined Arnold. "They sent a flag of truce to General

Carleton, who utterly disregarded it, declaring that he would not have

any communication with rebels unless they came to claim the King's

mercy."



General Montgomery, realizing that it was impossible to carry on a

regular siege, with neither the engineers nor artillery requisite for

the purpose, determined upon a night attack. This intention became known

to the garrison, and the most careful precautions were taken against

surprise. For several days those on duty and in responsible positions

observed the strictest vigilance, even sleeping in their clothes, with

their arms within reach, to be ready for the slightest alarm. The report

reached the garrison that Montgomery had said that he would dine within

the walls on Christmas Day, and he certainly seemed to consider himself

sure of victory.



Arnold's communications to Carleton has been treated with contempt, no

parley being entered into nor conditions considered. Montgomery tried

various expedients to have his messages received, but without success,

until an old woman was found willing to carry them in. On her errand

becoming known, she was arrested, imprisoned for a few hours and then

drummed out of the city, thus receiving the most disgraceful dismissal

possible in military discipline. The two letters of which she was the

bearer were directed, one to Carleton and the other to the citizens.



That to the Governor read:--



"I am at the head of troops accustomed to success, confident of the

righteousness of the cause they are engaged in and inured to danger."



To the people his words were:--



"My friends and fellow subjects, 'tis with the utmost compunction I find

myself reduced to measures which may overwhelm you with distress. The

city in flames at this severe season, a general attack on your wretched

works, defended by a more wretched garrison, the confusion, carnage and

plunder which must be the consequence of such an attack, fill me with

horror! Let me entreat you to use your endeavours to procure my

peaceable admission. I have not the reproach to make my own conscience

that I have not warned you of your danger."



Montgomery, waiting for a night of unusual darkness, during which he

hoped to place his ladders against the barriers unnoticed by the guards,

found the 31st of December suited to his purpose. On the last day of the

year, when in Boston, New York and other American towns, family

re-unions and festive gatherings were taking place, as far as the

disturbed state of the country permitted, in a blinding snow-storm,

poorly-clad, but resolute, these troops stood in line of battle, waiting

for the word of command through the dreary hours of that night, in which

every belfry in New England was chiming out the dawn of the New Year,

which was to be the greatest in the Republic's history--1776--the birth

year of the nation.



At four o'clock in the morning two rockets glared redly to the sky, and

were immediately responded to by answering signals, which were observed

from the ramparts. The solitary sentinel on St. John's Bastion reported

an armed body of men approaching. It was a feint to distract attention

from the point where Montgomery was to make the attack.



The tidings spread that the riflemen of New England were at the gates;

the peaceable denizens of the town were startled with the cry of "To

arms! To arms!" from officers hastening through the streets. The pickets

in the Recollet Convent hurriedly gathered--the church bells clanged out

the alarm for the troops to march at once to their posts, while drums

beat and muskets rattled.



"Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro,

And gathering tears and tremblings of distress,

And cheeks all pale--and whispering with white lips,

'The foe! They come, they come!'"



Lights glimmered from the frost-covered casements as fearful mothers

tried to still the cries of their children, frightened with the unusual

clamour. Hands were rung and tearful farewells taken of those whose duty

called them out, with no certainty of return, for



"Who could guess if ever more should meet those mutual eyes?"



Arnold's men rushed at the barricades in Sault-au-Matelot st., with the

words "Victory or Death" stuck in their hats, while Montgomery

approached by a path known as "Pres-de-Ville." It was extremely narrow,

and obstructed with blocks of ice and snow-drifts. It was in the

neighbourhood of where now are the wharves of the Allan Line Steamship

Co.



In the narrowest part the Americans marched slowly and cautiously. They

passed the outer barrier without resistance and approached the inner,

commanded by Dambourges. All was apparently unwarned and silent, but it

was not deserted. Within was a masked battery of only a few

three-pounders, with a little band of Canadians, eight British Militia

and nine seamen to work the guns. The force advanced to within thirty

yards, with Montgomery in front. Beside a gun, which pointed directly

down their path, Sergeant Hugh McQuarters stood ready, the match in his

hand lighted to send the deadly missile at the advancing column.



A quick movement--a flash--a dull boom--and the fearless leader of the

assault fell dead, with twelve others, including his secretary and

aide-de-camp--Arnold, his lieutenant, being wounded, and thus ended the

fifth and last siege of Quebec.



It was well for Quebec that her gates that night were not thrown open to

the sack of troops, among which was Aaron Burr, who had accompanied

Arnold's command. These two men were possessed of less moral character

than any who were connected with the Revolutionary struggle. Arnold was

a strange mixture of bravery and treachery, generosity and rapacity,

courage and petty spite. This arch-traitor subsequently offered to sell

West Point to the British for $30,000, then took service among his

country's foes, and returned to pillage and ravage his former comrades.

Aaron Burr, though descended from generations of clergymen, among whom

was the saintly and learned Jonathan Edwards, was guilty of murder,

treason, and every other vice by which a man could become notorious, his

whole career leaving dishonour, blasting, misery and death, like the

trail of a venomous serpent, behind him.



Governor Carleton, being desirous of ascertaining the certainty of

Montgomery's fate, sent an aide-de-camp to enquire if any of the

American prisoners would identify the body. A field officer, who had

commanded in Arnold's Division, consented to perform the sad office. He

followed the aide-de-camp to the Pres-de-Ville guard, and singled out

from among the other bodies his General's remains, by the side of which

lay his sword, at the same time pronouncing with the deepest emotion a

glowing eulogium of the worth and character of him who, frozen stiff

and cold, had been found half buried in his winding-sheet--a Canadian

snow-drift. Deeply impressed by the scene and circumstances, Sir Guy

Carleton ordered that his late enemy be interred in the foreign soil

with the glory of martial, burial honours. In the Chateau Museum may be

seen a sword which was picked up in the morning after Montgomery's

repulse. It is in a good state of preservation, much care evidently

having since been bestowed upon it.






"Of these five sieges, in the years 1629, 1690, 1759, 1760 and 1775,

none were pushed with more spirit and apparent prospects of success than

this blockade of the city by the two armies sent by Congress in the

autumn of 1775, under the advice of the illustrious General George

Washington; and, had there been a governor less firm, less wise and less

conciliating than Sir Guy Carleton, the Star-Spangled Banner would now

be floating from Cape Diamond.



Fort after fort, town after town, Ticonderoga, Crown Point, Saint John,

Chambly, Montreal, Sorel and Three Rivers, had hoisted the white emblem

of surrender, but there still streamed to the breeze the banner of St.

George on the Citadel. With the black flag of rebellion over the suburbs

and the American riflemen of undisputed courage and determination

thundering at the gates, never had a brave little garrison to contend

against greater odds, nor leader to accept a more unequal contest, no

help from Britain being possible."



"When news reached Congress that the assault on Quebec had failed; that

Montgomery had been left dead on the snowy heights, and Arnold had been

borne from the field; that cold, hunger and small-pox were wasting the

army, and that discipline was forgotten, the expedient was resorted to

of appointing commissioners to go to Montreal to confer with Arnold, and

arrange a plan for the rectification of Canadian affairs."



They were received by General Arnold in the most polite manner,

conducted to the Chateau de Ramezay, the headquarters of the Continental

Army, where a "genteel" company of ladies and gentlemen had assembled to

welcome them, after which they supped with Arnold, probably in the

dining-room adjoining the Salon.



In a vaulted cellar next to the subterranean kitchens and dungeons,

Benjamin Franklin set up his printing press, the first in the city, and

with it issued manifestoes to the people, to try and induce them to join

in rebellion, and send delegates to the Congress at Philadelphia.



The instructions given to Franklin and the other members of the

commission directed them to extend to the Canadians, "whom the Americans

regarded as brothers," the means of assuring their own independence.

They were also to demonstrate to the people of Canada the necessity of

adopting decisive and prompt measures for coming under the protection of

the American confederation.



Through the doors of the Chateau then entered Chase, Carroll, of

Carrolltown (who was expected to have influence with the French people,

and especially with the clergy), and others great in the young American

Commonwealth's struggle for freedom. From the antiquated ovens,

doubtless the brown bread and baked beans of New England succeeded the

roast beef of Old England, and the entrees, fricassees and pates

of the French cuisine.



In the gloom of this chamber Franklin no doubt uttered some of his wise

sayings, gems of philosophy, which in his "Poor Richard's Almanac" had

for years been familiar in every chimney corner of New England.






In the Montreal Gazette, which is still in circulation, the present

voluminous and influential journalism of the Metropolis of the Dominion

had here its origin in the setting up of this old hand printing-press,

similar to if not the same which is now preserved in the Patent Office

at Washington. For it Franklin sometimes made his own type and ink,

engraved the wood cuts, and even carried in a wheelbarrow through the

streets of Philadelphia the white paper required for the printing of his

paper, the Pennsylvania Gazette. It is now called the Saturday

Evening Post, and has about it a certain quaintness and originality

suggestive of the great mind which gave such an impetus to the American

and Canadian press of over a century ago.



"For nearly one hundred and seventy years there has been hardly a week,

except only when a British army held Philadelphia, when this paper has

not been sent to press regularly."



His identification with the history of letters in the United States and

Canada was an epoch in the development of both. In the great army of

newsboys in America Franklin was the first; he was also the first editor

of a monthly magazine in the country, his having on its title page the

Prince of Wales' Feathers, with the motto: 'Ich Dien.'



"He has never been surpassed in the editorial faculty, at the same time

being apt as compositor, pressman, verse-maker, compiler and reporter;

but as adviser, satirist and humorist he was perhaps at his best. His

one and two line bits of comment and wisdom were models of pithiness,

and few writers have equalled him in masterly skill in argument. He is

spoken of by David Hume as the first great man of letters to whom

England was beholden to America."



In addition to these qualifications, he founded the Library of

Philadelphia, the American post-office system, made several valuable

inventions for the improvement of heating, was the first to call

practical attention to ventilation, and to attempt experiment with

electricity. "He founded the American Philosophical Society, and led to

the foundation of the High School system in the State of Pennsylvania,

assisted in opening its first hospital, and helped to defend the city

against an attack of Indians. He was a leading factor in securing the

union and independence of the Colonies, being the principal mover in the

repeal of the Stamp Act." He made valuable meteorological discoveries,

improved navigation, and was an earnest advocate of the abolition of

slavery; so that in sending Benjamin Franklin to Canada at this critical

juncture, she was compelled to hold to her political convictions against

one of the intellectual giants of the day. On discovering the patriotic

obstinacy of the Canadians, he wrote to Congress, saying:--



"We are afraid that it will not be in our power to render our country

any further service in this colony."



Perceiving the hopelessness of the situation, and that not even his

matchless logic could win sympathy in his project, he left Montreal on

May 11, and thus ended the efforts to coerce Canada into a struggle

which was to try so sorely the energy and fortitude of the thirteen

colonies--efforts which had cost them the life of one of their greatest

generals--Richard Montgomery.



Franklin, when leaving, had under his escort some ladies who were

returning to the United States. Of one of these he wrote to Congress,

saying:--



"We left Mrs. Walker and her husband at Albany. They took such liberties

in taunting us at our conduct in Canada that it came almost to a

quarrel. We parted civilly, but coldly. I think they both have an

excellent talent for making enemies, and I believe where they live they

will never be long without them!"



Charles Carroll, who was associated with Franklin in trying to obtain

the concurrence of the Canadians in revolt, was of a family which had

always stood at the head of the colonial aristocracy, and which had

owned the most ample estate in the country. His character was mild and

pleasing, his deportment correct and faultless. By his eloquence

everyone was charmed, and many were persuaded, but even his great and

subtle powers in argument were abortive here. Through his daughter,

Polly Carroll, he became associated afterwards with the most dignified

circles of the British aristocracy. In the year 1809 two of his

grand-daughters were celebrated beauties in the most exclusive social

circles of Washington and Baltimore. The eldest, during a tour with her

husband through Europe, formed a warm friendship with Sir Arthur

Wellesley, afterwards the great Duke of Wellington. On becoming a widow

and returning to London, he introduced her to his elder brother, the

Marquis of Wellesley, whose wife she subsequently became. Her younger

sister married Colonel Hervey, who acted as aide-de-camp to the hero of

Waterloo on that momentous occasion. This family, therefore, was closely

identified with that great struggle between the two nations who had

fought on Canadian soil a few years before Carroll set foot upon it.



During the first Presidential court, many distinguished Frenchmen came

to America; some in official capacities, others from curiosity, and many

were driven into forced or voluntary exile by the French Revolution.

Among these were M. de Talleyrand, the exiled Bishop of Autun, the Duke

de Liancourt, the Duke de la Rochefoucauld, Louis Philippe d'Orleans and

his two brothers, the Duke de Montpensier and the Count de Beaujolais.



Louis Philippe lodged in a single room over a barber's shop in

Philadelphia. On one occasion, when entertaining some friends at dinner,

he apologized with a courtly grace for seating one-half his guests on

the side of a bed, saying he had himself occupied less comfortable

places without the consolation of an agreeable company.



The exiled Prince fell in love with the beautiful Miss Bingham, the

reigning belle of the city. On her royal suitor's asking her fair hand

from her father, the American citizen declined the alliance with the

French Prince, saying to him:--"Should you ever be restored to your

hereditary position you will be too great a match for her; if not, she

is too great a match for you."






One year from the fall of Montgomery, the event was celebrated by

special religious services and social functions in Quebec, the city he

had never succeeded in entering. "At nine o'clock grand mass was

celebrated by the Bishop in the Cathedral. On this occasion those who

had shown sympathy with the Congress troops had to perform public

penance. The officers of the garrison and the militia, with the British

inhabitants, met at 10 o'clock, waited upon Carleton, and then

proceeded to the English Church. After the service a parade took place

when a feu de joie was fired. Carleton himself gave a dinner to sixty

people, and a public fete was given at seven o'clock, which ended with

a ball."



About fifty years later, at Montgomery Place, on the banks of the

Hudson, an aged face, with eyes dimmed with the tears of long years of

waiting, looked sadly at the vessel that was bringing back to her the

dust of her young soldier husband, which had so long lain in the gorge,

near the fatal bastion. Forty-three years before, he had buckled on his

sword to fight for what he considered a righteous cause, at the command

of his leader, Washington. Expecting a speedy return, he marched away as

she listened to the drum beats growing fainter and fainter in the

distance, and, after half a century had passed, he was still to her the

young soldier in his brave, blue coat, who had kissed her for that long

farewell. All that is left on Canadian soil to recall this gallant

though luckless soldier is the low-ceiled cottage where his body was

laid out, a small tablet on the precipice, which reads, "Here Montgomery

fell, 1775," and another of white marble, in the courtyard of the

military prison in the Citadel, recently erected by two patriotic

American girls in memory of the volunteers who fell with him.



One hundred New Year's Eves came and passed away, and, on Dec. 31st,

1875,



"There was a sound of revelry by night,

And Canada's Capital had gathered there

Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright

The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men."



It was with no desire to re-kindle the rancours and strifes of that

distant period, but to properly celebrate an event of such importance,

and commemorate that night of blustering storm, gallant attack and sore

defeat a century before, that the Centennial Montgomery Ball was given.

Soldiers and citizens, in the costumes of 1775, some in the identical

dress worn by their ancestors in that memorable repulse; and the ladies

in toilettes of the same period, received their guests as they entered

the ball-room, the approaches to which were tastefully decorated. "Half

way between the dancing and receiving rooms was a grand, double

staircase, the sides of which were draped with the white and golden

lilies of France, our Dominion Ensign, and the Stars and Stripes of the

neighbouring Republic. On the other side of the broad steps were stacks

of arms and warlike implements. Facing the guests as they ascended the

stairs, among the huge banners which fell gracefully about the dark

musketry, and parted to right and left above the drums and trumpets,

there hung from the centre a red and black pennant--the American colours

of 1775. Immediately underneath was the escutcheon of the United States,

on which, heavily craped, was suspended the hero's sword--the weapon by

which, one hundred years before, the dead, but honoured and revered hero

had beckoned on his men, and which only left his hand when he like 'a

soldier fell.'



"Underneath the kindly tribute to the dead General were the solemn

prayerful initials of Requiescat in Pace.



"At the foot of the trophy were piled two sets of old flint-lock muskets

and accoutrements, and in the centre a brass cannon, which was captured

from the Americans in 1775, and which bore the 'Lone Star' and the

figure of an Indian--the Arms of the State of Massachusetts. This

military tableau vividly recalled the troublous times of long ago, and

spoke of the patience and pluck, the bravery and sturdy manhood of a

bygone century.



"On the stroke of the hour of midnight, the clear, clarion notes of a

trumpet thrilled all hearts present. A panel in the wainscotting of the

lower dancing-room flew open as if by magic, and out jumped a jaunty

little trumpeter with a slashed and decorated jacket and the busby of a

hussar. The blast he blew rang in tingling echoes far and wide, and a

second later the weird piping and drumming of an unfamiliar music were

heard in a remote part of the barracks.



"Nearer and nearer every moment came the sharp shrill notes of the fifes

and the quick detonation of the drum-stick taps. The rattle of the drums

came closer and closer, when two folding-doors opened, and through them

stalked in grim solemnity the 'Phantom Guard,' led by the intrepid

Sergeant Hugh McQuarters.



"Regardless of the festive decorations and the bright faces around them,

the 'Guard' passed through the assembly as if they were not. On through

salon and passage--past ball-room and conversation parlor--they glided

with measured step, and halting in front of the 'Montgomery Trophy,'

paid military honours to the memento of a hero's valiant, if

unsuccessful act. Upon their taking close order, the Bombardier, who

personated the dead Sergeant, and who actually wore the blood-stained

sword-belt of a man who was killed in the action commemorated, advanced

and delivered an address to the Commander of the Quebec Garrison, of

which the concluding words were:--



'We ask of you to pay us now one tribute,

By firing from these heights one last salute.'



"The grave, sonorous words of the martial request were hardly uttered,

ere through the darkness of the night the great cannon boomed,--a

soldier's welcome and a brave man's requiem,--which caused women's

hearts to throb and men's to beat exultingly." While the whole air

trembled with the sullen reverberations, which echoed from crag to crag,

the glare of rockets lit up the path of Pres-de-Ville, as the signal

lights had done one hundred winters before.



At the suggestion of the American Consul, the old house on St. Louis

street, in which the body of Montgomery was laid out January 1st, 1776,

was decorated with the American flag, and brilliantly illuminated, in

honour of him who had so nobly tried to do what he considered his duty.



And thus the years of the century, as they rolled around, have in a

great measure smoothed away the animosities which marked those days that

tried men's souls, when the sons of those who had played around the same

old English hearths fought to the death for liberty or loyalty. That the

angry strifes are forgotten, leaving only the memory of the bravery

which distinguished the star actors in the great drama, needs no further

proof than can be found on a green hill near the Palisades, in the State

of New York, where one hundred and twenty years ago a warm young heart,

beating beneath the soldier's red coat, was stilled by American justice.

The granite shaft on the spot tells its sad and sombre story:--



Here died, October 2nd, 1780,

Major John Andre, of the British Army, who, entering

the American lines on a Secret Mission to

Benedict Arnold for the Surrender of

West Point, was taken prisoner,

tried and condemned

as a spy.



His death, though according to the stern code of

war, moved even his enemies to pity, and

both armies mourned the fate of

one so young and so brave.

In 1821 his remains were removed to

Westminster Abbey.



A hundred years after his execution this stone was

placed above the spot where he lay, by a citizen of

the States against which he fought; not to perpetuate

a record of strife, but in token of those

better feelings which have since united

two nations, one in race, in language

and religion, with

the earnest hope that

this friendly union

will never be

broken.



"He was more unfortunate than criminal,

An accomplished man and a gallant officer."



--George Washington.



An American visitor to Quebec was recently shown the cannon used in the

trophy, which the British Corporal proudly explained had been taken at

Bunker Hill.



"Ah! yes, friend," the stranger replied, "you have the cannon, but we

have the hill."



On the top of the monument, near Boston, which marks the spot on which

this battle took place, are two guns similar to this one, the

inscription on which corroborates the soldier's statement; it reads:--



"Sacred to Liberty."



This is one of the four cannon which constituted

the whole train of field

artillery possessed by

the British Colonies

of

North America,

at the commencement of the

War

on the 19th of April, 1775.

This cannon and its fellow belonged to

a number of citizens of

Boston.



The other two, the property of the Government

of Massachusetts, were taken by the enemy.






With the failure of the American expedition, and the return of the

British troops to Montreal, the Chateau again became Government

headquarters and was called Government House.



When internal and international tranquillity were completely restored,

and the people were permitted to return to their ordinary avocations of

life, Sir Guy Carleton established himself at Quebec with his wife, the

Lady Maria, and their three children, one of whom had been born in

Canada. She had joined him at Montreal, being the bearer of the

decoration of the Order of the Bath, which she had received from the

hands of the King to present to her husband. Sir Guy Carleton or Lord

Dorchester was one of those men "who, during a long and varied public

life, lived so utterly irreproachably, that his memory remains unstained

by the charge of any semblance of a vice."



On the occasion of his last appearance in an official character he

arrived to make his final inspection of the troops. After general parade

the officers waited upon him to pay their last respects to one who had

been the bulwark of Canada through her greatest vicissitudes. The

leave-taking of their old General, whom they never expected to see

again, was marked by the deepest feelings of regard and regret. His

connection with Canadian history covered a period marked by events of a

nature the most critical, the results of which will colour the entire

future of the Dominion.






Between the years eighteen thirty-seven and forty, when Canada was torn

by internal rebellion, the Earl of Elgin, who was then Governor-General,

drove in hot haste to the Chateau, where had sat the special council

during the suspension of the Constitution. After giving the Queen's

sanction to what was called by a certain party "The Rebel Indemnity

Bill," he rushed into one door and out of another, when this Peer of the

Realm, in all the dignity of coach and four, postillions and outriders,

was pelted with rotten eggs and other unpleasant missiles. Then, in the

dark of night, at the instance of some so-called politicians, the mob

moved on to the Parliament buildings, and, most unfortunately for

Montreal, deliberately set them on fire; which act resulted ultimately

in the removal of the seat of government to Ottawa and the decline of

the glory of the old Chateau.





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