Longue Pointe was not unfriendly but thought discretion better than valour. Allen saw himself in a foolish position; his slightness of force would soon be known in Montreal through the escape from his guards of a Montrealer named Desautel going out early to his Longue Pointe farm.
Montreal was in great excitement and confusion at the news of the presence of the notorious New Hampshire incendiary. Even some of the officers took to the ships.[1] It was, however, only at 9 o’clock that Carleton heard the news. There was a hurry and scurry and a beating of drums and the parade ground of the Champ de Mars behind the barracks was filled with the people. Carleton briefly told the citizens of their dangers and ordered them to join the troops at the barracks. The instinct of self-preservation in a common danger made most obey except some, chiefly American colonists, that stepped forward and turned off the contrary way.
[Illustration: GENERAL RICHARD MONTGOMERY]
[Illustration: HOUSE AT THE CORNER OF NOTRE DAME AND ST. PETER STREETS Occupied by Montgomery and the American officers during the winter of 1775-76.]
[Illustration: HOUSE ON THE CORNER OF RUE BONSECOURS AND ST. PAUL STREET Occupied by government representatives from 1775 to 1791.]
At last the Montreal party was ready. They dashed through the Quebec gate, smashing the boats there to cut off the enemies retreat, and hurried up north. The fight with Allen’s men began at 2 o’clock and lasted an hour and three-quarters by the watch. Though carefully using all natural advantages of the ground, ditches and coverts chosen beforehand, Allen himself was compelled to surrender his sword to Peter Johnson, a natural son of Sir William, “providing I can be treated with honour,” he added. The officers received him with politeness, like gentlemen. In the fight Allen lost twelve to fifteen men, killed and wounded; some had fled, but a body of forty prisoners were marched to the city. The defenders had lost only six to eight of their men, so it was a famous victory. When the prisoners were brought before Colonel Prescott in Barrack Yard an extraordinary incident occurred, according to “Allen’s Narrative.”
“Are you the Colonel Allen who took Ticonderoga?” thundered out the British soldier. “The very man,” was the reply. Prescott angrily raised his cane to strike the roughly dressed, dust-stained ranger in a short deerskin coat, breeches of sagathy, and woolen cap. “You had better not strike me, I’m not used to it,” cried the aroused prisoner, shaking his fist at the angry commander of the garrison. Prescott then turned to the habitant prisoners and ordered a sergeant to bayonet them. Allen then stepped between his men and the soldiers and, tearing open his clothes and exposing his shaggy bosom, exclaimed to Prescott: “I am the one to blame. Thrust your bayonets into my breast. I am the sole cause of their taking up arms.” A long pause. Finally muttered Prescott, “I will not execute you now, but you shall grace a halter at Tyburn, ---- ye!” There was no suitable prison in Montreal so Allen was put into the hold of the Gaspé in the harbour to wait until he should be shipped to England for trial.