Garrett Barron, 29th Regiment, keeps the best Public House

At the end of a long career, a British soldier had a decision to make. When he was discharged, he could go to London and stand before the out-pension examining board at Chelsea Hospital, in the hope of being awarded a pension that would provide a small but steady income for the rest of his life. He could reenlist, either in another marching regiment if he was fit enough, or in one of the many garrison battalions that maintained installations throughout Great Britain. In some cases he could accept a grant of land in a far-away place that the British government was trying to settle; men who enlisted for service in the American Revolution, for example, were offered land grants in Nova Scotia (men were eligible for these grants if they'd enlisted after 16 December 1775 and had served for at least three years).

Or, he could leave all of these options behind and pursue a life of his own choosing. Tempting though the other offers were, a man with a homestead to return to, a trade that he was fit to practice, or connections in an place he had visited during his career might seek a future of his own choosing. That's what Garrett Barron did. He landed in Quebec in 1776 as a thirty-two year old corporal in the 29th Regiment of Foot. He was born in the parish of Davidstown in County Wicklow, Ireland, and had joined the army at the age of sixteen or seventeen. After serving three years in the 18th Regiment of Foot, he joined the 29th Regiment of Foot, the corps in which he would spend the rest of his career.

Much of that career was spent in North America. The regiment sailed from Corke, Ireland to Halifax, Nova Scotia, in 1765. Along with the 14th Regiment, the 29th famously moved to Boston in 1768. Townspeople already inflamed by unacceptable government policies aggressively showed their resentment to the troops, and tensions culminated in the Boston Massacre in March 1770. There's no evidence that Barron was directly involved in any altercations, but he surely knew the soldiers who were. The regiment was moved out of town, first to New Jersey and then to Florida where the harsh climate claimed a number of lives. Garrett Barron not only didn't succumb to disease, but advanced in rank, being appointed corporal in 1772. The following year the regiment's overseas tour ended, and the 29th returned to Great Britain for what the soldiers probably assumed would be a long period of rest and recovery.

It was not to be. When the British government committed to a protracted war in America, several regiments including the 29th were ordered to Canada. They arrived in Quebec at the beginning of summer in 1776, and immediately dislodged an American force that had the city under siege. They pursued down the Richelieu River to Lake Champlain, liberating posts along the way that had been captured the previous autumn. By October, the 29th Regiment was embarked on board a makeshift fleet of warships assembled on the lake to drive a similar, but weaker, American force off of those waters before the onset of winter. In the battle of Valcour Island, several soldiers of the 29th were killed. Brown, now a serjeant, received a wound in his thigh that required a lengthy recovery. He was reduced to a private soldier, probably to allow a healthy man to take his place as serjeant. The 29th spent the remainder of the war primarily in garrisons along the Richelieu, sending out detachments that were involved in many actions that are overlooked by most histories but which were very real to the soldiers participating in them. By 1781 he'd advanced to serjeant again.

 

In spite of the long, cold winters and rugged conditions that characterized rural Canada, Barron grew fond enough of the region to settle there when he was discharged from the army in June of 1784. He obtained land and established a farm at Caldwell Manor, Quebec, at the head of the Richelieu River just over the border from the new United States. His regiment had spent several years in the area, and he was certainly quite familiar with the place. He married a local woman (apparently his second marriage, although no details are known of the first). Being on the main route to Montreal and Quebec city, they took in north- or south-bound travelers. One of their guests in November 1787 was an officer of the 29th Regiment with whom Barron had served, who recorded in his diary:

 

we Rowed as far as Barrons farm where we stopped to breakfast and were entertained with very excellent Tea and sausages. The owner of the house was an old acquaintance of mine having been a Sergeant in the 29th Regt many Years. His house is extremely neat and clean and is by far the best Public house on the whole Communication between Albany and Montreal.

 

In spite of having established such a comfortable situation, Barron sold his property and moved into the wilderness; his father-in-law did the same, and they settled on adjacent properties in Hinchinbrook, a settlement forty miles directly west of Caldwell Manor. An 1888 history of the region offers a little bit about his life there:

 

Garret Barron was an Irish Protestant, from the county Wexford, and had served in the army. During the American war he rose to be quarter-master's sergeant of his regiment, and, at the close of the struggle, got his discharge and a grant of land in Caldwell's manor, where he became very comfortable. One of his neighbors was John Nichols, from the English side of the Borders, and his daughter he married as his second wife. When, father and son-in-law sold their places on the Champlain and moved into Hinchinbrook Barron (called captain from his rank in militia) when asked why he moved, gave as his reason that he wanted to be again in the woods. Barron squatted on 33 and Nichols on 34. Mrs Barron felt very lonesome in her new home, when her husband remarked that with 5 gallons of rum she had all the company needed. Like all old soldiers of that time, he was fond of his dram, but never got intoxicated. He was tall, over 6 feet, and in his prime must have been a powerful man. He was rough-spoken, and fond of contradiction, and especially prone to controversy with Presbyterians (he was an Episcopalian) and Catholics. There were two large stones, one on each side of his door, on one or other of which he was generally to be found in fine weather, ready for a talk with the first passer-by. He left work to his sons, and they lived poorly, as was indicated by his remark to a stranger whom he had invited to share their dinner, "Eat away; it will be long before you get as good a meal again," the bill of fare beginning and ending with potatoes and milk. Despite his provoking mode of speech, he was at heart a kindly man, and ready to share his last loaf with a neighbor. He was a Freemason and regularly attended the lodge at Chateaugay, N.Y., which he continued to call by its old name of Seventhtown.

 

When war visited the region in 1813, the almost-seventy-year-old Barron determined to be of assistance:

 

The loyal soul of old Barron was stirred by the tidings that the Americans had at last crossed on to British soil, and stiffened as were his arms he thought he could deal one more blow for his king and country. Keeping quiet his purpose, he one night took possession of his father-in-law's horse, the only one in the settlement, and getting on its back, clad in his old regimentals and his sergeant's sword by his side, struck through the woods to gain the British camp by the Chateaugay. When Nichols went out in the morning to his barn, he discovered his loss and guessed the perpetrator of it. Running into the shanty he cried to his wife, "Barron's gone to the camp and taken the old mare, and won't bring back even a hair of her tail." In this he erred, for both Barron and the mare came back safe and sound, the former much disappointed that he failed to reach the British lines until after the fighting was over.

 

This sounds like a typical fanciful tale, but it is corroborated by a report from the Lieutenant-Colonel commanding the advance guard that was pursuing a retreating American force. The officer's report indicates not only that Barron was useful as a guide, in gathering intelligence, and in procuring provisions, but that his wife (who was nineteen years younger than he) made use of her non-combatant gender and local connections to gather intelligence:

 

In obedience to your orders, I proceeded, in advance of your party, at 8 o'clock on the morning of the 24th, with Capt. Barron, by the road followed by Gen. Hampton's army in their retreat, and, from near the Lines, went eastward to the first house, from whence I sent a man, under pretext of business, towards Four Corners, to ascertain, as far as possible, the strength of the enemy's force, the position of the pickets, &c, and to return to me at Capt. Barron's. From thence, I proceeded to Capt. Barron's, where we got at 4 o'clock p.m. He sent his wife across the Lines 5 miles, for one Hollenback (from whom he has occasionally received intelligence), in order that he might affirm before me on oath his losses by the Indians, for which Colonel Boucherville promised remuneration. Mrs Barron returned at 8 o'clock, saying that Hollenback having killed a heifer, had baked it, and was gone to the camp to sell it in pieces, and that on his return, which was hourly expected, his father would send him forward...

Capt. Barron was to have followed me down as soon as Hollenback came to his house. I presume he will be here to-day, and I will report to you the information he has got from Hollenback.

Apprehensive that your men would be short of provisions, I caused Capt. Barron to send his son and another with 3 head of cattle.

 

Garrett Barron lived for another twenty-two years. After twenty-three years in the army, and another fifty-one as a farmer in Canada, two marriages and eight children, he died in 1835. The funeral provided one last anecdote related to this loyal old soldier:

 

Dying at a great age, he was buried on his own lot. At his funeral, old Mr. Gentle got annoyed at the long continued hammering, for there were no screws then, in putting on the coffin-lid, and exclaimed, "That will do." "Abundance of law is no breaking of it," retorted the carpenter, a bachelor named Fisher, as he drove in another nail. None of Barron's descendants remain in the county.

Learn more about British soldiers in America