That night about 8 o’clock the parliament buildings were burned by an angry mob. It was not unpremeditated, for the day previously even some of the soldiers were warned to shut their eyes next day if anything happened, and many did. After the signing of the bill a meeting was held on Champ de Mars as the result of printed notices, at which inflammatory speeches were made. One of the leaders was a Fred Perry, who lived to be sorry for his deed. “We are not in ’37,” he cried. “If you are men follow me to the parliament house!” and he drove in a buggy, surrounded by a sympathetic crowd, some carrying lighted torches and crying, “To the parliament house.” The parliament building which had been built as St. Ann’s market and leased to the government, was a two-story building, the bottom floor of which was remodeled to contain the government offices, while upstairs, at the head of a broad staircase, leading off a wide passage, were two halls, one that of the legislative assembly, a room 342 by 50 feet, and the other of the legislative council. Meanwhile the house of assembly was discussing the judicature bill, and it was warned by the noise of the advancing mob. When the crowd reached the building, at a given signal stones crashed through the windows like hail. A rush was made by some of the crowd into the assembly hall from which the members had retreated. One of the mob named Courtney sat boldly in the Speaker’s chair and muttered threats about dissolving the parliament. The work of demolition was begun, sticks being thrown at the glass globes on the gaseliers that were out of reach. Then there was raised the cry of “fire!” The gas pipes in the building had been cut and a light applied. An explosion followed and a blinding sheet of flame lit up the scene. Then ensued a mad rush of the members and their friends and enemies to get out of the building. The mob made no attempt to save it. The fire engines were only used upon the surrounding property and an eye witness relates that the soldiers who were ordered to fire on the mob discharged their shots in the air. In half an hour the whole building was wrapped in one sheet of flame. The valuable library containing the archives and records of the colony was destroyed. In the beginning of the incendiarism lighted torches thrown through the window began the sad work of destruction. Little was saved but the mace and the picture of Queen Victoria with the gilt crown surmounting it. A newspaper account of two days later stated in effect “that the Queen’s picture was carried away by four scoundrels.” These have lately been identified as Colonel Wiley, formerly chief of police, a Scotchman of the name of McGillivray, from the eastern townships, an employee of the parliament, the uncle of Mr. Todd, of the Library of Parliament, and Mr. Sanford Fleming (afterwards Sir). The latter in reply to the historian, Henry J. Morgan, wrote in 1901: