by George Mathewson for the Sarnia Observer
(2003) Of all the strange things that abound in the pages of The Observer, the Fenian scare must rank near the top.
By the mid-1860s, Sarnia was a bustling little community. Citizens were puffed up over the discovery of oil, the arrival of two new rail lines, and a visit from the Prince of Wales.
But persistent rumours about the Fenians, a shadowy Irish group based in the United States and vowing to overthrow British rule in Ireland by attacking colonies in Canada, wouldn’t go away. By the early months of 1866, townspeople were awash in wild talk. One fellow, (riding alone at night, it should be noted) claimed he’d seen a group of Fenians crossing the ice at Froomfield. Another report put a 700-man army just outside Port Huron.
The Observer pooh-poohed the stories. If the mischief-makers ever did attempt an invasion they would be dealt with smartly, the newspaper advised its readers. Still, precautions were taken. A night watch was posted and trains readied for possible evacuation. The bags of travellers were subjected to militia inspection.
Then the word spread: the Fenians were coming March 17, on St. Patrick’s Day. Across Upper Canada, thousands of troops were mobilized. As many as 4,000 were dispatched to Sarnia, an easy crossing point and especially vulnerable to attack.
The town was soon gripped by military fever and echoed with the tramp of parading boots. As new infantry arrived by train they were greeted by cheering crowds and the Sarnia Brass Band, marched to the town square, and assigned billets.
Not to be outdone, a local regiment was formed under the command of retired Colonel Frank Davis (for whom the street is named). The St. Clair Borderers were, however, a motley crew with few weapons and a loose grip on military discipline.
As the big day approached, the troops took up positions along the St. Clair River. But March 17 came and went without incident. The Observer ridiculed a Detroit newspaper for reporting that soldiers stretched six miles along the border from Point Edward and that Sarnia itself had come under heavy cannon fire.
Indeed, one shot was fired, The Observer noted, “from a small two-or-three-pounder belonging to a schooner lying in Port Huron.” But the cannonball was a joke played by a well-known resident that “created no more uneasiness than if it had been a popgun.”
With the scare over, the defenders celebrated with a huge oyster dinner at a local hotel.
Fenian raiders did attack along the Niagara River and points east, killing nine Canadians. The colony’s unaided defence instilled a new national pride and helped bring about Confederation the following year.
As The Observer noted, the patriotic rally brought Sarnians together like nothing ever before, even if the Fenians themselves were a “humbug.”