Source.—The Story of a Soldier's Life, by Field-Marshal Viscount Wolseley. Constable, 1903.
We had looked forward to at least a pretty little field day when our line of skirmishers should enclose Fort Garry and its rebel garrison as in a net. But by early dawn next morning the whole country far and near was a sea of deep and clinging mud. There was then nothing approaching a road in the whole territory, so I had to forgo all pomp and circumstance of war in my final advance and had once more to take to our boats and the dreary oar. We were all wet through, very cold and extremely cross and hungry. A cup of hot tea and a biscuit swallowed quickly for breakfast, and all were again at the oar by 6 a.m., August 24, 1870. The rain poured "in buckets" upon us, and at places the country was under water....
I landed at Point Douglas, only two miles from Fort Garry by road, but six by the river, which there makes a wide bend. A few carts were seized, into which tools and ammunition were transferred, and to two of which the trails of our two small field-pieces were fastened and thus dragged along. The messengers I had sent the previous night into the village round Fort Garry met me here with the assurance that Riel and his gang were still there awaiting anxiously the arrival of Bishop Taché, who was hourly expected. It was confidently asserted that he meant to fight. He had just distributed ammunition—stolen from the Hudson Bay Company's stores—amongst his followers, had had the fort guns loaded, and had closed the gates. I subsequently learned that he and his henchman, a common fellow named Donoghue, had started from Fort Garry during the night to find out where I was and what I was about. But the very heavy rain they encountered was too much for them, and, being afraid of capture by our outposts in the dark, they had gone back to the fort as wise as they had left it.
Our march, though short, was very trying from the heavy rain and the deep mud we had to plough through. But, as all the people we met assured the men we should have a fight, these small and disagreeable drawbacks were ignored.
Fort Garry stands upon the left bank of the Red River, where the Assiniboine falls into it. The fort itself is a high stone-walled square enclosure, with a large circular tower at each of its four corners. The village of Winnipeg—mostly of wooden houses—was nearly half a mile to the north of the fort, and south of it, at about a couple of hundred yards distance, was a boat bridge over the Assiniboine. My object, therefore, was by circling round west of the Fort to obtain possession of that bridge, or at least to command it with my fire. I should then have Riel and company in the right angle inclosed between the two rivers. Our skirmishers in their advance captured a few of Riel's so-called councillors, who were bolting in buggies and other means of conveyance.
As I watched the muzzles of the fort guns, I confess that I hoped each moment to see a flash and to hear a round shot rush by me. I knew they had no shells, and that they did not know how to use them if they had had any. But in the rain, and in the thick atmosphere when the rain ceased for a little, it was difficult to see, even through our glasses, if there were men at the guns or not. I sent a few officers who had obtained ponies round the fort to see what was going on in rear of it. They soon returned with the news that Riel had bolted, and that the fort gates were open. It was a sad disappointment to all ranks.... But, though we did not catch the fellow, we had successfully carried out the task that was given us....
We dragged out some of the guns in Fort Garry, upon which Riel had relied so much, and with them fired a Royal Salute when the Union Jack was run up the flagstaff. From it had hung for months before the rebel flag that had been worked by the nuns of the convent attached to Bishop Taché's cathedral, and presented by them to Riel.