Results for ‘Fenian Raid’
By
The late N. Brewster M.D., Ridgeway
20 June 1837-23 November 1923
[The Welland Tribune and Telegraph, 16 December 1924]
The following article was written by Dr. Brewster in December 1911, for the Ridgeway Historical Society and has not hitherto been printed:-
On the well remembered morning of the sixth of June, the inhabitants of the village were attracted by the sound of whistling from a train from the west, the first in two days; and we soon learned the troops were here. We had earlier learned by carrier of the approach of the Fenians from the north.
Profiting from my three years’ experience in the great civil war in the U.S.A., when I was often in battle, I soon learned our solders had nothing to eat since the day before, and I went along their line of march and asked our people to bring out for them all the cooked food on hand.
They responded liberally; and so many of the solders got at least a lunch.
I never learned who was in fault, but surely some one blundered, that men were sent into battle without food in this part of the country.
About an hour after the troops marched away, the sounds of battle so familiar to my ears, were heard and I again went among the people and told them there was fighting going on down there, and there would soon be wounded to care for and advised them how to prepare for their reception.
I then gathered up such of my surgeons outfit as I had left, namely, instruments, bandages, adhesive plaster, chloroform, a canteen full of whiskey, another of water, and started for the front. Just as the bend of the road to the north of the village, I met such a mixed and confused mass, as I have never seen elsewhere, before or since. Soldiers and citizens, men, women and children on foot and in all varieties of vehicles, with horses, cattle, sheep and pigs, all mingled together, and all hurrying along the road south; it brought to my mind Russel’s description of Bull Run.
I saw two soldiers without guns, running, and close behind them an officer with revolver in hand, crying halt, and firing in the air occasionally, but running as fast as he could, and close behind him more soldiers running.
Soon after I saw that some of our men had taken possession of the buildings on the corners at the first cross road north of the village, then owned by old Joseph Danner, uncle of J.O. as he was called, and were gallantly trying to hold the enemy in check. And how I wished there were even a few veterans tried in battle, among them, to hold them steady; -but it was not long until I saw wavering among them, and soon they broke and continued their retreat.
Being now in the line of fire, I hastened to the left and made a circuit around the contending forces to the rear, and while in the fields, I heard shouting and firing but paid no attention, until I heard bullets whistling over my head, the other being ordinary noises of war. Then I observed, (the Fenians) were hailing and trying to halt me and call me in. I was soon among them and a prisoner. I was surprised to see that the only ones among them in any kind of uniform wore that of the U.S. army. A captain among them wore the full fatigue dress of his rank, who being asked why he had that on over here, he said he not taken it off since the war. I told him it was time he did, as this was no place for it, and that I thought too highly of that uniform to see it worn in such a cause,-as I had myself worn it for three years.
The Canadian solders retired through the village and so on to Port Colborne, and we saw them no more.
The Fenians took possession of the village and anything else they wanted; posted their advanced picket at the cross roads, on the hill west; then they settled down for rest and food, in some cases cooking and eating their dinners in private houses, even setting the table in my own house. They took very little loot beside food and did practically no damage to private property.
After waiting about three hours for orders or news, they retreated toward Fort Erie and we saw them no more.
The captain I have mentioned on learning my profession, and object, sent me on to the field, saying I was needed there, and that I should call on any Fenians I met for assistance and I did so freely. I scoured the fields, road and buildings, gathering in the wounded, all of whom I cared for, taking their names, rank, company and regiment, on my list recording alike friend and foe, and at the conclusion had twenty-six names on the list, which I regret to say, is lost.
Of these, two Canadians were dead and there were four Fenians dead, whose names I could not learn.
One of the Canadians died from heat and exhaustion in my presence, being wounded, a student of the University of Toronto and a member of the university rifles brought in from the field while still living.
Of the five houses used as shelters for the wounded, but two remain, namely Mr. Athoe’s and Mr. Pierce’s. One stood where Benjamin Weaver now lives; one at Mr. Bort’s, and one, the Smugglers’ Home Hotel has not been replaced.
One of our wounded officers thinking he must die, gave me his sword and belt, gold watch, rings etc., and exacted a promise from me that I should visit his wife, be the bearer of certain farewell messages, giving her all but the sword and belt, which I was to keep. I afterwards had the pleasure of returning all to himself in his wife’s presence, except the messages.
A passing Fenian saw the sword and tried to take it from me, but I secured the assistance of a guard, left on duty by their commander, who drove off the marauder, and I concealed the sword.
Our troops marched down the Ridge Road to the Smugglers’ Home on the corner formed by the Ridge crossing the Garrison Road, where they deployed into line reaching to and into the bush on the east, and a few rods below the hill on the west, and advanced across the fields and along the road to the north. They soon met the fire of the advanced Fenian picket, hidden in a clump of bushes in mid-field, which has only lately been cut down. I was told by our men that they were sanguine of success, until the fatal blunder that ordered them into squares to resist cavalry, which they obeyed. But instead of cavalry they found a line of veteran infantry trained to service in many hard fought battles in the American war, facing them who were quick to see and profit by the false move. They tried again to get into line, but being pressed, fell into disorder, then broke and began their retreat. The extreme right continued to advance and occupied a part of the enemies’ breast works, and in their retreat a number of them being cut off from the main body; continued easterly until they reached the lake near Winmill Point.
I was assisted by men living along the line of the Fenian march from Black Creek, that there were but two mounted men in the Fenian ranks, and I could not but reflect upon the fitness for command of a man whose excited imagination could multiply two mounted men into a troop of cavalry. I was assured by many of our men, officers, as well as privates that all was going well, and they were sanguine of success, until that stupid order to meet cavalry, which they saw did not exist, threw a pail on their spirits, and I have not spoken with one of the participants since, who did not believe that was the cause of the disaster.
As to the numbers engaged, I estimated the Fenians a little more numerous than the Canadians, and a very large percentage of them were seasoned veterans used to war and battle; while ours were to a man, raw recruits, not one of them had ever before heard the whistle of hostile bullets or, as the phrase is “smelled powder.”
The phrase “shot in the back” has a tinge of disgrace in it, but not always justly so, for on this occasion Ensign McEachren of the Queen’s Own, observing that his men, while crossing the fence and fields, were in disorder, stepped boldly out in front and turning and facing the men, was trying to get them in line again, when he fell, dangerously wounded, by a ball in the back, and which passing within an inch of his heart, came out in front. He recovered and was living a few years ago and I have seen no report of his death. I have often thought it had been better had that bullet found a victim in the commander, and that the history of the “Fenian Invasion” would have had a very different ending.
I have never seen the Fenian loss reported, but I found four of their dead, and learned from people living on those roads, that at least six wagons carrying dead and wounded were seen going forward Fort Erie, but I have never heard the numbers estimated.
Some of our less seriously wounded were helped in the retreat by comrades and given rides by our fleeing citizens, and I did not see them. But they were all properly reported.
The Fenian line was formed along the cross road by Athoe’s, and they took the rails from the north fence, and placed them on end on the ground and the other resting on the south fence, and so constructed a very fair breastwork and defence.
A homeguard was formed here in the afternoon of the day the Fenians came over with E. Morris, Esq., now of Fonthill, as captain, and mounted men, armed, patrolled all roads north and east all night and moved west with the retreating troops, but returned and again patrolled the roads east with a good degree of efficiency, a fact brought home forcibly to myself, as they twice halted on my rounds.
A good joke was circulated about them and their retreat to the effect that they established their headquarters in the marsh west of the Welland Canal, to assist in its defence; doubtless, they would have given a good account of themselves.
Very few of the inhabitants of the village remained in their homes, but went with the crowd and so gave the Fenians full liberty, but they took very little from the houses, chiefly handkerchiefs, stockings and little items to keep as souvenirs. From mine, what I most highly prized was the gold lace and insignia of rank, from my uniform which I was keeping as a souvenir. Probably someone has it for that purpose now.
An object of interest to the many visitors to the battle field was for many years the marks of the bullets on the brick walls of the Athoe house, but I believe they not show now.
Four Survivors of the Original Highland Co. Queen’s Own Renew Old Memories
[The Welland Tribune and Telegraph, 19 May 1927]
The following reminiscences from the Toronto Telegram will be interesting reading to many readers of the Tribune and Telegraph as told by four octogenarians’ survivors of the Fenian raid, members of the Highland company of the Queen’s Own of Toronto, at the battle of Lime Ridge, near Ridgeway, in the township of Bertie, on the morning of June 2nd, 1866. The names and ages of the veterans are: Henry Swan 86, Andrew Lauder 83, Andrew Black 83 and Geo. H. Leslie 86. They are all residents of Toronto and are still hale and hearty.
“How are you, Andrew? You’re looking pretty well.”
“Oh, I’m fine George, and I’ll be 83 in August,” was Andrew’s answer as he gripped his friend’s hand.
“Well, I’ll be 82 next August, so you’re only a year older,” was the upstanding reply of George.
“And how are you?” asked George and Andrew in almost one breath a little later when they were joined by a third merry old gentleman whom they also addressed as “Andrew.”
“Oh, I’m all right,” declared he, “and I’ll be eighty-three this June. I was twenty-one when I was at Ridgeway.” He seemed a bit uncertain over the identity of “George,” whom he hadn’t seen for many a year.
“Why, I was the left hand man in rear rank of our company and the battalion at Ridgeway. They put the tall fellows at the end always, explained George.
The floodgates of memory of these three once youthful comrades in arms were soon opened and incident followed incident in a rush always preceded with the query, “Do you remember”- as they vividly recalled this and that event of those days when as youths they stood in the path of the Fenian invaders. Vivid as though there were no sixty long years between, they re-pictured the hot June sunshine of that Saturday, the 2nd of June, 1866, when after a hungry day and a sleepless night they rushed the woods at the Lime Ridge amid the spattering of bullets in leaf and tree, and saw the first of their comrades fall.
Reunion of Veterans
It was the Telegram’s high privilege to be present at and have a small part in bringing about recently a reunion of four gallant gentlemen, octogenarians all, who as far as can be ascertained are the sole local survivors of the Highland Company No. 10, in the 2nd Battalion Volunteer Militia of Canada, Queens’s Own Rifles, of Toronto, when it went to Ridgeway to meet the Fenian invaders in 1866.
The three who first foregathered were Andrew Lauder, Andrew Black and Geo. H. Leslie, and they proceeded to the home of Henry Swan, the fourth survivor of that historic company, who but recently decided that in his 86th year it was time to retire from active business.
Tartan at Ridgeway
Few Toronto people who glory in the record of the Q.O.R. know that at Ridgeway one of its companies, largely Scots, wore the tartan plaid of the 42nd Black Watch, albeit they had doffed the kilt and wore trews instead. These four survivors recall with pride the wearing of the tartan in that historic company. The tunic was of a dark green.
The Q.O.R. battalion was formed in April, 1860, by the uniting of four Toronto companies that had been formed in the fifties when the Crimean War had called away the British regulars from Canada. Under the Consolidated Militia Act the 1st Rifle Company, Toronto; the 3rd Rifle Company, Toronto, the Highland Rifle Company, Toronto, the Rifle Company, formerly Foot Artillery, with a Barrie company and a Whitby company, were organized into the 2nd Battalion, Volunteer Militia. Captain A.T. Fulton, of Fulton & Michie, was the first officer of the Highland company.
When in 1861 the Trent affair created excitement and fear of United States attack other independent companies were formed. The Merchant’s (2), the Civil Service, the Trinity College, the University, the Victoria and on Nov. 21, 1862, a reorganization took place and these companies entered the Q.O.R. also. They wore diverse uniforms and the battalion on parade was unique. Four companies had rifle green with red facings, four had light or dark grey, the Victoria Company a brown uniform and No. 10, the Highland Company wore the famous 42nd Black Watch tartan kilt and plaid. At Ridgeway they wore trews instead of the kilt, but wore their plaids.
Memories of Fight
At Ridgeway this 10th Highland Company was at first in reserve with the 9th Company, while the half mile advance was made. “Poor Malcolm McEachren was the first man killed. I remember when they brought him I,” recalled Mr. Leslie. “He died in a few minutes.”
“Just when we were ordered out of reserve to skirmish I remember getting over that snake fence and falling and they thought I was shot too,” declared Andrew Lauder. “The bullets were coming thick then.”
George Leslie recalled the moment when after the two-hour march in the early morning from Ridgeway Station to where they expected to meet Col. Peacock’s regulars, the word came that the enemy had been sighted and the order was given: “With ball cartridge load.” “It began to look serious to us boys then,” he says.
Now All Passed On
The vividness of the memories of that day recalled the names of many who had been with them. Alexander Muir was in that Highland Company, “He plucked that maple leaf from one of my uncle’s trees,” says George Leslie. And they named Captain Gardiner and Lieutenant Robt. Gibson of this company, and “Bobby” Bain and “Bob” Bryden.
“He went to Virginia. I saw him once on a trip and he had a southern accent and said he had “raised right smart of a family,” recalls George Leslie again.
Other names spring quickly to their lips. Peter Kemp and Bill Reid, and Steve Bryden, and Price Forbes and Willie Wallace the piper. They laugh over a memory of Wallace, but then one says, “They’ve all passed on.” “Every one of them,” is the comment of the four.
“No, I believe Price Forbes is still alive in Buffalo, says one of them, and all hope it may be that a fifth still survives.
More Incidents
Andrew Black asks if they remember the man on horseback who came to their headquarters and tried to mislead them. “He was a Fenian spy and they caught him all right.” He also recollected the first of the enemy dead they found in their first rush through the wood. “A big fellow lying on his back with his plug of tobacco resting on his chest.”
Andrew Lauder recalled helping Color-Sergt. McHardy, shot through the arm and bleeding badly, over the fence when the “retire” order was mistakenly given. Another recalled seeing Charles Lugsdin shot through the arm and lung.
(Mr. Lugsdin recovered from his wounds and conducted a drug business in Port Colborne for a number of years after.)
The Highland Company did not share in the forming of a square “to prepare for cavalry.” That was one of the mistakes of the day. They were scattered in skirmish order but the four survivors all declare that despite mistakes, they had the invading Fenians beaten, and the retreat next day of the enemy proves it.
Two of the Highland Company were wounded, Col-Sergt. McHardy and Pte. White. The latter lost an arm.
Muir Broke His Arm
Alex. Muir broke his arm at Ridgeway and was sent home.
Captain Ernest Chambers’ history of the Q.O.R. gives the names of seven killed and twenty-one wounded in the Ridgeway affair.
After Ridgeway they went back to Port Colborne-“a hot, long march, carrying knapsack and the heavy old Enfield rifle and nothing to eat that day,” says George Leslie.
They were sent later to Stratford, where they stayed for over a week in readiness to be sent where needed should the Fenians attempt other invasions, then home to Toronto and a great welcome.
Former Stevensville Resident Writes of His Experiences
[The Welland Tribune and Telegraph, 11 June 1925]
The following reminiscences of the Fenian Raid, the “invasion of a day,” show the feeling created in the Niagara Peninsula at that time. They were written for The Telegram by M. G. Sherk, 1201 Broadview avenue, Toronto.
At the time of the Fenian Raid of 1866 I was living in Stevensville, a small village about four miles from Ridgeway, and about the same distance from the locality on Limestone Ridge where the battle occurred. My father, Rev. A.B. Sherk, the night the marauding army led by General O’Neil, crossed the Niagara River into Canada, had been attending an evening meeting on the Garrison road, three miles from the village of Fort Erie. He spent the night at the house of John Hershey, one of his church members, a well-to-do farmer.
Early the following morning he was sitting chatting with his host when a neighbor dashed in and saluted Mr. Hershey with, “John, did you hear the news? The Fenians came over last night eight hundred strong and fifteen hundred more are ready to follow.” My father’s first thought was of his family, so he at once set out for home.
In a Panic
My mother, alone with her children, was awakened at early dawn by the noise made by numerous vehicles rushing through the village, and saw women and children, some of them partly dressed, huddled together in wagons, along with articles of furniture, bedding and provisions, on their way to the big marsh, a few miles back in Humberstone township. One of the women, wringing her hands frantically, called out to my mother: “The Fenians are coming. They are only a few miles behind. They are killing men, women and children as they go.”
I remember as a boy, not quite five years of age, my mother taking me across the bridge over the creek to the home of Peter Hendershot, the local merchant, Mr. Hendershot being away at the time. Mrs. Hendershot was having a wagon loaded with a few things preparatory to fleeing, but as my mother expressed no great concern, she decided to give up going. Just then my father was seen coming down the hill in his gig.
Seeking a Refuge
He was anxious to follow the fugitives farther into the country. My mother objected, but proposed going down to her father’s (Capt. M.D. Gonder’s) one mile below Black Creek post office on the Niagara River road. This proposal did not suit my father, who thought there would be more danger there. My mother then said she would be willing to go to her uncle’s, Joshua Fare’s, a few miles into Crowland township. My father gathered a few things together and placed them in his gig and we started, but when we got to our destination we found my mother’s uncle’s family with their wagon loaded with a few necessities, ready to go farther away from the border. On my mother laughing at her for being so frightened, her aunt said to her, “Well, if you are willing to stay, we will.”
Found O’Neil’s Bible
I remember going out into the old fashioned garden at the back of the house the morning of the battle and hearing the noise of the engagement on Limestone Ridge. My father and mother’s uncle went together to view the battle and before the bodies of the dead Fenians had been taken from the field. He noticed that the buttons had been cut off their tunics.
One of my uncles found in the woods in the vicinity of where the Fenians had been encamped, leaning against a tree, a Fenian rifle with a knapsack containing among other things a Roman Catholic prayer book on the fly leaf of which was written in pencil, “John O’Neil, his prayer book. Holy mother for me pray and take on my dying day my soul to heaven.”
Too Excited For Church
On the Sunday following the day of the battle, services in some of the country churches of the frontier were omitted, there being no congregation to greet the ministers, the people not thinking of worship.
A Farmer’s Daughter Runs Away With a Fenian
[The Welland Tribune and Telegraph, 11 June 1925]
Every war has its stories of love and romance, and the Fenian invasion of the Niagara Frontier in 1866 was no exception to the rule. This story as published below, was discovered while rummaging through some old files of the Welland Tribune, and is dated May 2nd, 1867. There is no signature to the story, with the exception of the word, “Post,” as if copied from another newspaper.
A singular case of elopement occurred in the Township of Bertie about a week ago, which affords another instance of the proverbial blindness of love and hasty ill-advised actions which those influenced by the tender passions of love will, at times, be persuaded to adopt. In order to fully understand the affair, we shall be obliged to refer to the events of the Fenian Raid of last June, in which the hero of the present narrative took a conspicuous part.
Patrick J. O’Reilly of Buffalo, was a Fenian. He was a discharged American soldier; a saddler by trade, and an active and not bad looking young fellow, of twenty-four years, or thereabouts. Either from mistaken patriotism, love of plunder, recklessness, or as Artemius Ward has it, “pure cussedness,” P.J. joined the Fenian invaders, and on account of his military experience, obtained a lieutenancy, He participated in the Battle of Ridgeway, and at the close of the fight received part of his deserts in the shape of a ball in the side.
Abandoned by his pusillanimous comrades, he followed the retreating Fenians for some distance, but at last, faint from loss of blood, had just sufficient strength remaining to crawl to the door of a farm house, about four miles from the Niagara River and begged to be cared for and concealed from the red coats. The men of the family were away from home at the time looking after some horses which had been stolen by the Fenians- in fact one of the daughters was the only person left about the place. Taking pity upon the condition of the wounded man, and knowing that if her father and brothers found him in the house he would at once be handed over to the military authorities, she concealed him in an old disused barn at some distance from the house, assisted him to dress his wounds and supplied him with food for about a week and until he was able to travel.
By her guidance, O’Reilly then succeeded, after much difficulty, in outwitting the vigilance of the sentries and escaping across the river, probably considerably benefited by his Canadian experience. While the foolish girl had thus, from a mistaken idea of sympathy, been conniving at the escape of a criminal worthy of severe punishment, and unluckily for her, her compassion changed to love- probably sincere, though sadly misplaced.
After the departure of O’Reilly, she settled into a deep melancholy and her friends predicted an early death from consumption. Nothing was heard from the escaped Fenian until some time later, when an individual of much the same description, apparently a peddler calling at the farm house in the evening and asked for a night’s lodging. His request was readily granted and he accordingly made arrangements for passing the night there, retiring early.
When the morning dawned, however, the peddler was gone and the young lady also. The latter had been observed to be much affected and unable to conceal her agitation on seeing the stranger the previous evening. A couple answering their description were seen driving rapidly towards the Suspension Bridge on the morning they eloped, and a Buffalo paper, a day or two afterwards, contained the announcement of their marriage in one of the Catholic churches in that city.
The parents and friends of the girl are, of course, much grieved at the course she has pursued, and the unfortunate alliance she has formed. For this reason we suppress all names but that of the bridgegroom.
We only hope the silly girl will never have cause bitterly to repent the match she has made. -Post.
Reminiscences of a Buffalo Attorney
[Welland Tribune, 12 January 1900]
Attorney Thomas of Buffalo chats interestingly of the Fenian raid of 1866, from which we extract a few paragraphs of interest. The incidents of this raid are still familiar to most persons of middle age in this section, and the reports of another attempt at a “raid” are bringing “Fenian Stories” to the front again.
“Although I did not see the famous battle of Ridgeway, I was the first prisoner taken by the Fenians,” said Attorney Charles J. Thomas. “I well remember the occurrence. It was June 1, 1866. The Fenians did not land at Crystal Beach, but at Frenchman’s Creek, on the place now owned by Gerhard Lang, to whom it was sold by my brother-in-law, Geo. Pearse.
My father, Edwin Thomas, removed to New York in 1863, having sold the Church House, which was the Thomas homestead, and went into business in Wall street. He came back to Buffalo in 1866. I frequently went over to Fort Erie gunning. About that time father commissioned me to purchase a house across the river, as he desired to spend the balance of his days in Canada. I did buy for him, with his money, of course, a brick house, the first beyond the Episcopal church down the river shore.
We were having the house repaired and put in shape, and had a number of men at work. I suspected the men were shirking the work, and decided to quietly watch them. On the morning of June 1st I thought I would do some investigating. Dr. Elliott, who succeeded the late Dr. Cronyn as village physician of Fort Erie, and my brother, Geo. Truscott Thomas, who lived at Fort Erie, accompanied me to the house. I was sitting on the piazza and the others had gone in for a drink of water, when I noticed the flashing of sunlight on some bright objects, and soon saw a body of about forty armed men marching towards the house.
I had intended to go to Toronto on the early morning train, and had dressed myself in Prince Albert coat and silk hat. I suppose I must have looked suspicious at any rate I was ordered to go with my captors. They marched me towards the village, through Warren’s Lane, back of the church out to the river front to a saloon run by Barney McNinny. The barkeeper was Jack Gaffney, who was afterwards hanged for murder, and the place was Gen. O’Neil’s headquarters. I was put through a severe process of questioning, and after satisfying them that I was simply over there on private business and was desirous of catching a train to Toronto, I was given a pass and allowed to cross the river. When I left Fort Erie several people gave me their jewelry to leave on this side, but I could not get it through the customs and was obliged to send it back to its owners.
As you know, there were several killed. If the regular troops could have got there in time, they would have made short work of the Fenians. I sat in the Globe office in Toronto and watched the funeral procession of the killed, and it was a solemn sight. I also succeeded in obtaining admission to the trial of the captured Fenians, which lasted some two or three months, and I never in my life was taught more of the justice of Canadian law, and the fairness of the judiciary. Instead of assigning boys to defend the prisoners, they had the best of counsel.
Those who were not convicted were given sufficient money to take them home. I went through the jail and recognized one prisoner, Tom Ellis. It cost his sister, Mrs. Mary Ryan, at least $2000 to get him clear.
[Welland Tribune, 10 July 1872]
LETTER FROM MR. SHISLER
EDITOR TRIBUNE- Sir-On returning home one evening a short time since, I found a present awaiting me which pleased me very much. It was a copy of the “Parliamentary Debates on Confederation,” a well bound volume of 1,032 pages. The following relation of circumstances will explain how I came by this handsome present: When Col. Peacock came to New Germany with his artillery, at the time of the Fenian Raid, he sent Mr. Abram Hendershot, of Welland, to me for my map of the Counties of Lincoln and Welland, which I lent him, and he (the Col.) cut out the Township of Bertie to see more conveniently the lines and roads. The Col. afterwards left the map with a certain individual with instructions to deliver it to me, upon which that person sent me two poles, stating that the Col. had cut out the map and sent the poles, on which I tried them where the map had been hung, and found them not to agree with the length of mine. I then sent a letter to Mr. A. Hendershot stating that I wished them to return the map, on which he said he would either pay for it or give me another, and it was left at that for several years, after which I wrote to Mr. J.G. Currie about it, who said, by return mail, that I should state which I preferred, a map or the money. I wrote him that I would rather have the map, and then he sent me a letter stating that I should call or send, and I could have a map and the book alluded to above. As I think the book a valuable one, and am certain to get the map on calling or sending for it, I am well satisfied and wish the Hon. J.G. Currie to accept my thanks.
Yours, &c.,
PETER SHISLER
Stevensville, June 1872
Subscribe..
