On the evening of Sunday, June 5, 1866, east of Port Colborne, 120 young soldiers of Hamilton’s XIIIth Battalion lay huddled in a roadside ditch.
Part of Canada’s first army, the XIIIth was called out to meet an invading force of Irish rebels from the United States called the Fenian Brotherhood. The intent — to raid, defeat and hold ransom the two Canadas for alleged injustices by the Crown in Ireland.
Waiting for the dawn, our young soldiers lay soaking wet in a heavy hoar frost that chilled them to the bone. They were sent off poorly equipped, with no bed rolls, blankets, great coats, food or even canteens for water. Each man had an old 1858 Enfield rifle, long scrapped by other units, and 50 rounds of ammunition. Most lads had never fired anything but blanks before except one day a year when they shot off 10 rounds at Binkley’s Hollow in Westdale.
Ditch water, alive with mosquitos and pollywogs, was their only refreshment, scooped up in their shako helmets. Some had brought hams and bread from home, for there was no food provisions made.
Exhausted, soaked in their scarlet tunics and wool trousers, they rose to the bugler’s call, the rouse followed by assembly. Cook house was not called, for lack of a cookhouse or even a cook.
Undaunted these young lads, most no older than your average Grade 12 schoolboy, loaded up their old rifles and in single file, marched east into the village of Ridgeway.
There in skirmish order, with untried bayonets fixed, they advanced looking for those “dar-gonned Finigans” as they called ’em. Lacking a horse and with no support arms, Lt. Col. Booker led his lads against a sudden charge by the rebels, amid the staccato rattle of gunfire and yelling.
Shrouded by thick smoke and the acrid smell of black powder, bullets flew back and forth till finally, realizing these red coats might be regulars; the Finigans turned tail and skedaddled back to the Niagara river where many were arrested by the U.S. Army.
Several of our lads were wounded or fatigued and returned to Hamilton. The walking wounded and the fit stayed in Port Colborne for a week on garrison duty. Privates Morrison, Laker, Cahill and Smith were taken in at Auchmar House by their old colonel, Isaac Buchanan, and his wife, Agnes, for initial treatment, then sent home. Pte. Morrison later stayed at Mr. Job Midwinter’s home at Barton and John streets, where James later passed on. Pte. James Henry Morrison at 17 was the youngest and the first soldier of the XIIIth. to die, June 30, 1866. His frail body was carried by his buddies from No. 3 Highland Company of the XIIIth down to Brown’s Wharf where the steamship Argyle took he and 150 of his regiment (now the RHLI) to Burlington and St. Luke’s Anglican Churchyard, where he was interred beside his dad, Charles, with full military honours.
This is the 150th anniversary year of the old XIIIth and his present day buddies of the RHLI will pay tribute to Pte. Morrison again. He was buried in his scarlet tunic that he wore in that cold, damp ditch near Ridgeway so very long ago. Just a kid — a Riley! We will remember him!
Mountain historian Colwyn Beynon can be reached at crsw389@sympatico.ca.