None but those who were in constant intercourse with him can know what Lord Elgin went through during the period of excitement which followed these gross outrages. The people of Montreal seemed to have lost their reason. The houses of some of the Ministers and of their supporters were attacked by mobs at night, and it was not safe for them to appear in the streets. A hostile visit was threatened to the house in which the Governor-General resided at a short distance from the city; all necessary preparation was made to defend it, and his family were kept for some time in a state of anxiety and suspense.[6] For some weeks he himself did not go into the town of Montreal, but kept entirely within the bounds of his country seat at Monklands, determined that no act of his should offer occasion or excuse to the mob for fresh outrage.[7] He knew, of course, that the whole of French Lower Canada was ready at any moment to rise, as one man, in support of the Government; but his great object was to keep them quiet, and 'to prevent collision between the races.' [Sidenote: Firmness of the Governor.] [Sidenote: Refuses either to use force,] 'Throughout the whole of this most trying time,' writes Major Campbell,[8] 'Lord Elgin remained perfectly calm and cool; never for a moment losing his self-possession, nor failing to exercise that clear foresight and sound judgment for which he was so remarkable. It came to the knowledge of his Ministers that, if he went into the city again, his life would be in great danger; and they advised that a commission should issue to appoint a Deputy-Governor for the purpose of proroguing Parliament. He was urged by irresponsible advisers to make use of the military forces at his command, to protect his person in an official visit to the city; but he declined to do so, and thus avoided what these infatuated rioters seemed determined to bring on--the shedding of blood. "I am prepared," he said, "to bear any amount of obloquy that may be cast upon me, but, if I can possibly prevent it, no stain of blood shall rest upon my name."' As might have been expected, the Montreal press attributed this wise and magnanimous self-restraint to fear for his own safety. But he was not to be moved from his resolve by the paltry imputation; nor did he even care that his friends should resent or refute it on his behalf. So little was he affected by it that on finding, some years afterwards, that Lord Grey proposed to introduce some expression of indignation on the subject in his work on the colonies, he dissuaded him from doing so. 'I do not believe,' he said, 'that these imputations were hazarded in any respectable quarter, or that they are entitled to the dignity of a place in your narrative.' [Sidenote: or to yield to violence.]