BATTLE OF RIDGEWAY – A GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF THE ENGAGEMENT.

This Story as Told by Dr. Ryall, of Hamilton, A Surgeon of the 13^th Battalion.

[Welland Telegraph, 5 June 1891]

Twenty five years ago Tuesday the battle of Ridgeway was fought in this county, and the following narrative published some time ago in the Hamilton Spectator, although it relates more particularly to the movements of the Thirteenth Battalion, will never the less at this time be very interesting to TELEGPAPH readers.

The first day of June, 1866, was a beautiful summer morning, when my father called me from peaceful slumber, saying that there must be some unusual excitement in the city as he heard the bugle call repeated several times. He then called my two step-brothers, both of whom were members of No.4 company. One was a private, the other carried a bugle. They started then, for the first time, that the battalion had received orders at the previous drill to assemble immediately at call of the bugle. We went down to the armory and there learned that the Thirteenth was under marching orders to repel the raiders. The battalion responded quickly to the call. Those members who were absent on business from the city joined their companions as speedily as possible. Two officers were absent who did not participate in the engagement. Although rumors of hostile intentions were rife, the most remote idea of a Fenian invasion never occurred to me. At that time I had not fully made up my mind to remain a member of the battalion, but when the order to march came I had to proceed in civilian costume, having neglected to procure the necessary military outfit.

The Thirteenth had been drilling for a considerable period and was in excellent order. The general appearance of the battalion was better than it has been for several years since, although it did contain at that time a few members who would scarcely have passed a medical examination. The men were as efficient in drill as indoor drill could make them. They were also fairly equipped for the service which they were supposed then to perform, and which I presume was expected to consist of a few hours’ pleasure excursion. I don’t think that a single member of the regiment from the colonel down ever expected to hear a shot fired on that occasion.

There was one very flagrant deficiency in their equipment, which should never occur no matter how pleasurable the excursion may be; that was the absence of an ambulance corps. There was not even the figure head of an hospital sergeant. These were matters of minor consideration to men who jest at scars, who never felt a wound; but had there been an ambulance corps at Ridgeway, it could have done good service and the surgeons would have had some support to stand by. Having put a few surgical necessities (such as might be required for immediate use) into a small carpet bag, I carried it myself for safety until we reached Dunnville. Private Alex. Mann, a carpenter by trade, was there appointed hospital orderly; into his charge it was then given.

We reached Ridgeway soon after daylight, and left the cars. Not having any utensils to drink from, the tin attached to the water pitcher in the car took my fancy. It did good service on the road back. At the village luck favored me in getting a drink of milk fresh drawn from the cow, but after that until night nothing entered my mouth but pure spring water. Private Johnstone was here seized with a fit and had to be left behind. It was now for the first time the Queen’s Own came to my notice. The two battalions were formed into column and marched onwards, the Rifles leading. Doctors Thorburn, May and myself walking in rear of the Thirteenth. We had proceeded about a mile when the Queen’s Own was sent forward. Being in the rear, we could not see in what order they advanced, but supposed it to be in skirmishing order. Our commanding officer had not located the Fenian position at this time, and we had been led to understand all along that no engagement would take place until we were joined by Col. Peacock and his forces. Why that arrangement was departed from is a mystery to me. But it has since been frequently stated that Col. Peacock was afraid to trust his regiment, as they were nearly all Irishmen. It is extremely unlikely that Col. Peacock ever made such a statement. If he did, he was a very  unfit man to command  them. It appeared to me however, that Col. Peacock was not so much to blame as the authorities who arranged the mode of attack, which had all the appearance of intention to leave the honor of victory to the volunteers alone. Having now marched fully two miles from Ridgeway the Thirteenth was halted and formed the reserve force. From this period on it was difficult to state time with accuracy. Events seemed to follow each other so rapidly that to me time was a mere conjecture; but it was shortly after halting that an order was given by someone unknown to  me which sounded like “Sergeants to the front.” It proved to be, however, “Surgeons to the front,” and just at this moment an officer in Rifle uniform asked me to go forward. I went for assistance. Having got my orderly and instruments, we were back in a few seconds, but on seeing Assistant- Surgeon May going over the fence, waving his white pocket handkerchief, there was no necessity for my going on a wild goose errand. This order was a very thoughtless one and under the circumstances in which we were then placed should not have been given. The wounded should have been brought to the rear; indeed, this was being done at that time. As might have been expected the surgeon missed his man, for Lieut. McEachren was carried through the reserves almost immediately upon the doctor going forward. It will scarcely ever be forgotten by me with what heart-rending though feeble voice the poor fellow exclaimed: “My poor wife and fatherless children!” Such words were not very inspiriting to those present who had loved ones at home depending upon them for subsistence. One stout looking fellow toppled over as the wounded man was carried through the ranks, and it was said that many others felt like doing the same. The wounded officer whose life was fast ebbing was taken to some place which our chaplain called the hospital. Very shortly after this sad occurrence the Thirteen was ordered to relieve the Queen’s Own. Orderly Mann and myself accompanied No. 4 company. We crossed the fence near an old shanty which was called a school house. (If from this point you were to draw a diagonal line across the field, you would come out on the road quite close to where the Queen’s Own now formed the reserve party.) After we crossed the fence, the Fenian bullets seemed to fly without stint. They whizzed through the air with varying sound, indicating either a difference in distance, shape or size of the metal. We had proceeded better than half way up the field, when my orderly lay down flat along side the fence, and wanted me to do so. No. 4 company had just got over the next fence into what was called an orchard-my location now seemed to me to be very much out of place, being too much in the line of fire. While considering what position it would be better to take up, a rifleman (Haldimand) came back over the fence, saying that he had hurt his hand and could not use his rifle. I examined it, but did not recognize anything seriously wrong. However, he was sent to the rear; perhaps he found his way to that phantom hospital. Having determined to make my way to a house which appeared to be on the corner of a road in the direction of the skirmishes a few hundred paces in advance of where the reserves were standing. I carried my instruments and crossed the field. Had some of those brave fellows sitting at home at their ease (who would scorn to evade a death bearing missile) had a chance to see me through a telescope, no doubt there would be a bowl of indignation at my cowardliness, for I did not walk erect, but kept my head and shoulders well bent, somewhat like a sportsman stealing within range of some game. The bullets kept moving briskly, occasionally striking the branches of a tree. Such a position would no doubt have been enchanting to those who were not there, but to me the beauty of it was negatived by the unpleasant feeling that a stray shot might make too low a range. I remembered after having heard it is said that discretion was the better part of valor, so that I was not too proud to stoop on that occasion. Having crossed the field, I climbed over two fences and came out on the road where Col. Booker and Bugler Stares were moving about. Almost immediately the cry of “Cavalry, cavalry,” came directly from the front. Up to this point matters seemed progressing nicely. Col. Booker was now placed in a very awkward position. Acting as a general one would expect him to have a staff to co-operate with. Yet I saw no one either to bring him information or to take orders from him. All his orders to the front were transmitted by bugle calls. He could not possibly see what was going on in front, not even had he been on horse-back or standing on a six-foot high fence. He evidently took the alarm of cavalry as given bona fide. The colonel was a strict disciplinarian and was so imbued with the mimic precepts of war as taught at drill that on the spur of the moment he carried them out on this occasion, the fallacy of which was now better illustrated. Had he given a moment’s consideration into his surroundings he would have seen that cavalry would effect nothing beyond their own demolition. Stares, under orders, sounded the retire and repeated it. I was under the impression that our commander gave the order to form square; but Col. Gilmore stated that he had done so. I have, however, a very vivid recollection to hearing the command, “prepare for cavalry,” which I took to imply “form square.” At all events the square was formed immediately after the command. I then went to the square. The colors of the Thirteenth were in the centre, carried by Ensign Hugh C. Baker and the present paymaster of the battalion. One side of the square was close to the fence, which I presume marred the beauty of it. In such a position I should say that it would be almost impossible to form a perfect looking square. I was invited into it for protection, but declined. Having walked down the road a short distance I stood at a road leading off to the right. The square must have then collapsed, as the men came down the road. Col. Booker now came down the road on horse-back. He appeared to be anxious to rally the men, and gave an order to that effect which met with no response. I repeated his order without avail. Private Powell of No. 3 company now came hobbling along, assisted by one of the Thirteenth. He had received a bullet in his thigh and was suffering intense pain. A horse and wagon now appeared. We asked the driver to take him up, but he refused to do so. One of the Thirteenth then seized the horse and Powell was placed in the wagon. We would have taken him into the nearest house, but the driver was so reluctant to stop, we thought it as well to get farther on. Just as we approached Ridgeway I saw Major Arthurs. He had a number of volunteers in line across the road. He raised a revolver and swore that he would shoot the first man who broke it. We then passed on over the track and had Powell taken up the hill to a house on the right hand side, a short distance off the road, and let the wagon go. The house was locked up and deserted. I then had him placed on the ground under shelter of a tree, and on examining his wound found that the bullet had entered about the lower third of his thigh. Its progress was checked by the bone, around which it glanced and could be detected in front on pressure. As he was suffering much pain, I cut down on the bullet, and removed a very good sized one. A piece of clothing remained in the track of the wound, which I had no inclination to look for, even had I the means at hand to do so. Having dressed his wound and administered an anodyne, I left him in charge to be brought on as early as possible. On leaving, a number of our men were at the pump. I gave them water from my tin, and some of them had a medical stimulant.

Having now got on the road, feeling very tired, and almost exhausted from the intense heat, I dragged along toward Port Colborne. Col. Booker was just ahead of me. I saw him dismount and help a disabled Thirteenth man on to his horse. There were quite a number of volunteers resting on the side of the road. Private Geddes of No. 4 company now informed me that McKenzie of the same company was wounded, but he could not tell me of his whereabouts, I think it was he who also told me that Lieut. Routh was killed and that the non-commissioned officers had brought the body into a house, placed him on his back and put his helmet on his breast. I did not learn until the following day that he was living. I have now related all the casualties I knew of up to this period.

After walking about three miles from Ridgeway a train of empty freight cars came up from the port. I asked Col. Booker, who was standing on the road, what I should do. He told me and other volunteers present to get into the cars. We did so and were taken back to Port Colborne after a short delay.

I was there for a considerable time weary and sick at heart. Not knowing what to do, the volunteers were amusing themselves discharging their rifles into the canon until stopped by some of the officers. I think it was Lieut. Ferguson who first informed me that an hospital had been established in an old vacant hotel on the west side of the canal towards the lake. I went there at once and to my astonishment found not only many there, but that two of the Thirteenth had been already experimented on, but by whom I did not learn. Private Hilder had an incision made over his spine at the point where the bullet entered, and Private Stuart had another extending from the front of his ear about three inches down his neck. Confusion reigned supreme here for some time. Every doctor claimed his own patient. A great many necessaries were wanted which could not be supplied at the moment. The people of the Port gave what they could for immediate use.

I had no idea that our loss at Ridgeway was so great until the killed were brought to the hospital. Four or five bodies had been brought upstairs with their uniforms on and were laid on the beds prepared for the sick and wounded. In one instance the corpse was placed between the sheets. I had to get them all removed immediately. They were taken down stairs and subsequently placed in a barn with a guard to protect them. Some of the friends of the deceased considered this an act of disrespect, but nothing was further from my intention. It was done altogether as a matter of exigency. One of the dead had no visible wound, and it was supposed at the time that he died from exhaustion. The heat of the morning was very great, and hard upon a weak constitution. It would not have been surprising if more of our fellows had succumbed to it. Dr. Beaumont, of Toronto, my first preceptor of surgery, having arrived at the Port, I asked him to examine Private Hilder. He gave a very rigid examination but failed to discover the course of the bullet. Hilder was quite exhausted after it, and looked like a dying man. Most of the wounded able to be removed were sent to St. Catharines, where, I think, a military surgeon took charge-at least for a while. Our hospital was pretty well patronized those days, the admissions being chiefly from fatigue. A night or two in a comfortable bed, with a few good meals affected a cure. There were one or two cases of exhaustion from intense heat. Our days were very warm, while the nights were excessively cold. When Col. Villiers, of the Forty-seventh regiment took charge I had to attend muster roll at midnight, which was anything but an agreeable duty. When matters had quieted down, Sergt. Sutherland and myself hired a double team at government expense to visit the wounded who could not be removed to the hospital. We took some eatables with us, such as we thought might be suitable for the sick. The first place we arrived at was where Lieut. Routh was lodged. We met his brother, Mr. Routh (of the firm of Brown, Routh & Co.,) who refused me permission to see the patient. We saw the other wounded man, who was progressing favorably. The family were glad to get the supplies which were brought with us. A military surgeon was in attendance here but he was absent at the time of our visit.

We then took s walk over the scene of the previous exploits. At the time of the cry of “Cavalry,” the Fenians must have been well protected in the bush, while our skirmishers were fully exposed on the open field. Had the Fenians been good shots they had every opportunity to shoot down our men. The retreat was the very worst thing that could have occurred. It would have been far better to have kept moving onwards. The only horse which the Fenians had with them, we saw dead on the field and fast decomposing. We then returned to our hospital duties. One morning before leaving, Hilder directed my attention to a swelling in his neck which he thought was getting larger. I had no difficulty in recognizing the long-sought for bullet. He begged of me to say nothing about it; he had already suffered so much that he feared being sent to St. Catharines and desired to get back to Hamilton. Next day I had to go to Hamilton on private business, and returned next morning in time to find the Thirteenth  already in the train to come home. I had only time to get from one train to the other to return with them. The late Hon. Issac Buchanan having procured lodgings and nurse for Hilder, Sergt. Sutherland and myself returned to Port Colborne and brought him back. Shortly afterwards I removed the bullet. He remained some time in a very precarious state from injury to his spine. As soon as he was able to be removed, Mr. and Mrs. Buchanan had him taken to their residence on the mountain, where, through their generous hospitality, he received the best of nursing. I attended him medically until convalescent. The government paid for my attendance until the medical board of examiners awarded the pensions, after that my accounts never passed Toronto. The battalion, however, subsequently allowed payment in my annual dues. A good many items of interest I might relate, but I have already written too much. I have only to say that we have all during that raid had a small experience of what might be expected from us in actual warfare. I. RYALL, late surgeon Thirteenth battalion.