It was with no desire to re-kindle the rancours and strifes of that distant period, but to properly celebrate an event of such importance, and commemorate that night of blustering storm, gallant attack and sore defeat a century before, that the Centennial Montgomery Ball was given. Soldiers and citizens, in the costumes of 1775, some in the identical dress worn by their ancestors in that memorable repulse; and the ladies in toilettes of the same period, received their guests as they entered the ball-room, the approaches to which were tastefully decorated. "Half way between the dancing and receiving rooms was a grand, double staircase, the sides of which were draped with the white and golden lilies of France, our Dominion Ensign, and the Stars and Stripes of the neighbouring Republic. On the other side of the broad steps were stacks of arms and warlike implements. Facing the guests as they ascended the stairs, among the huge banners which fell gracefully about the dark musketry, and parted to right and left above the drums and trumpets, there hung from the centre a red and black pennant--the American colours of 1775. Immediately underneath was the escutcheon of the United States, on which, heavily craped, was suspended the hero's sword--the weapon by which, one hundred years before, the dead, but honoured and revered hero had beckoned on his men, and which only left his hand when he like 'a soldier fell.' "Underneath the kindly tribute to the dead General were the solemn prayerful initials of _Requiescat in Pace_. "At the foot of the trophy were piled two sets of old flint-lock muskets and accoutrements, and in the centre a brass cannon, which was captured from the Americans in 1775, and which bore the 'Lone Star' and the figure of an Indian--the Arms of the State of Massachusetts. This military tableau vividly recalled the troublous times of long ago, and spoke of the patience and pluck, the bravery and sturdy manhood of a bygone century. "On the stroke of the hour of midnight, the clear, clarion notes of a trumpet thrilled all hearts present. A panel in the wainscotting of the lower dancing-room flew open as if by magic, and out jumped a jaunty little trumpeter with a slashed and decorated jacket and the busby of a hussar. The blast he blew rang in tingling echoes far and wide, and a second later the weird piping and drumming of an unfamiliar music were heard in a remote part of the barracks. "Nearer and nearer every moment came the sharp shrill notes of the fifes and the quick detonation of the drum-stick taps. The rattle of the drums came closer and closer, when two folding-doors opened, and through them stalked in grim solemnity the 'Phantom Guard,' led by the intrepid Sergeant Hugh McQuarters.