April came, and with it came the alarm of an intended invasion of Canada by the Fenians. All the volunteers were ordered to be in immediate readiness, and several companies were stationed at different places along the Province Line, south of the River St. Lawrence. Every precautionary preparation was being made by the Canadian government, and also by the inhabitants. Great excitement prevailed during several days; and a series of appalling rumors were daily in circulation. But April passed away, and none of the Verdants made their appearance on the north side of the Line 45. There was apparently a lull in the Fenian camp.

But on the morning of the 23rd of May following, the bugle again sounded the alarm. Gen. O'Neill had again stirred up the "Circles" to their very "Centres," and there was a fearful rattling among the dry bones. Every telegram brought additional intelligence confirming the affair. The march had in reality begun; and 50,000 men, as rumored, were marching towards Canada, in a direct line to Montreal. All the volunteers in the Province of Quebec were again called to arms, and every available company forwarded at once to the chief stations at St. Johns, Hemmingford, and Huntingdon. The 69th regiment of British regulars, then stationed at Quebec, was ordered to the front immediately. The loyal Canadian farmers in the vicinity of the Border line turned out at once; and with rifle in hand, distributed themselves in detached parties to watch and await the avowed enemies of their country; and defend their hearths and households in the hour of danger.

The company to which Frederick Charlston belonged, had been ordered to St. Johns. Fred was delightfully excited by the occurrence, which afforded him an opportunity of realizing what he termed "a novel and romantic adventure."

On the morning of the 25th of May, 1870, a detachment of Fenians, headed by Gen. O'Neill, crossed over the Line in the vicinity of Eccles' Hill. A company of farmers who had stationed themselves behind the rocks of the hill, adjacent to the high-way, observed the approach of the enemy sneaking along the road. When the Fenians had arrived within reach of gun-shot, the farmers, unperceived, fired upon them, killing two or more, and wounding several. The astonished Verdants at once replied by a volley, but becoming disorderly bewildered by the incessant stream of smoke and bullets from among the rocks, they hastily retreated to an adjacent hill; and for several hours the opposing parties in ambush kept up a continuous but ineffectual fire at each other. At length a few detachments of Montreal volunteers and others arrived; and in conjunction with the farmers, took part in the action. The Fenians imagining that a formidable army had arrived, became panic-stricken and fled, headed by their leaders, at quick march over the Border Line, where the "Fenian Tragedy" was magnificently concluded by the ludicrous farce of the Great O'Neill making a hasty exit as a "State prisoner," under the confidential protection of Marshal Foster.

Simultaneously with this event, another squad of Green Jackets, headed by Gen. Starr, intruded upon Canadian soil, twelve miles beyond Huntingdon, and intrenched themselves about three-quarters of a mile from the Border Line. There they remained until the morning of the 27th, when they were speedily routed from their intrenchments and driven back beyond the Line by the Huntingdon Borderers and the 69th British Regiment.

The Battalions in this District, and upon whom the inhabitants had chiefly to depend, were the "Huntingdon Borderers" and the "Hemmingford Rangers," under their gallant commanders, Cols. McEachren and Rogers, and to whose valorous energy and that of the heroic officers and men under their charge, is the country in general deeply indebted.

Thus ended the Fenian invasion of 1870. Providentially not one of the Canadian party received even the slightest injury. The volunteers were immediately recalled, and peace was restored to the country.

Among those who took part in the action at Eccles' Hill was Fred Charlston. He returned to Montreal, bearing along with him as trophies of war, a Fenian coat, knapsack and rifle. So elated was he on the night of his return by his fortunate and glorious adventure, that he with several of his comrades got mortally drunk, so much so that he and two others had to be taken to the police station for safe keeping, where they remained until they became sobered off.

Frederick being somewhat of a poet, composed the following song in honor of those Canadian Volunteers who were brought into action along the Border.

The disturbance at Red River in the North-Western Territory, by the revolt of Riel and his accomplices was also at this time attracting the attention of the Canadian government. A force, consisting of regulars and volunteers, had already been organized; and was to be despatched immediately to Red River for the purpose of suppressing the Riel-Rebellion.

The glory of warfare had aroused within the mind of Frederick Charlston a love for adventure and a spirit of Canadian patriotism: and feeling a desire to enlist as a roving soldier, he immediately, after his return to Montreal, departed for Toronto, head-quarters for the Battalions designed for Red River. A few healthy and well-disciplined volunteers were still wanted; and Fred, having passed an examination, was initiated into the ranks as a volunteer for Red River.

On the evening previous to his departure he retired to his room; and having emptied a tumbler full of hot brandy punch, he sat down gloriously happy, and penned the following letter to his parents.

The volunteers for Red River were forwarded from Toronto to Collingwood; where they embarked on the steamers Algoma and Chigora; and proceeded 300 miles to Thunder Bay, on Lake Superior; thence by land and water through a dense wilderness, several hundred miles, to Fort Garry, at Red River. A prodigious undertaking, indeed, involving a vast amount of labor and privation; nevertheless the majority of the troops endured it tolerably well. During the first two or three weeks Fred Charlston stood the hardships and inconveniences with a brave spirit, and enjoyed with good relish the rough life of the military pioneer; so much so that he gave expression to his patriotic feelings in the following song, which he and his associates frequently sung with great gusto:—