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LOST AMID THE FOGS.

•^<

LOST AMID THE FOGS:

SKETCHES OF LIFE

NEWFOUNDLAND,

ENGLAND'S ANCIENT COLONY.

I-

) ,;■' i-

LiEUT.-CoL. R. B. M^CREA,

THE ROYAL ARTILLERY.

" O Thou !
Who sittest far beyond the Atlantic deep,
Amid the sources of thy countless streams,

A newer page
In the great record of the world is thine :
Shall it be fairer ? Fear, and friendly hope,
And envy, watch the issue ; while the lines.
By which thou shalt be judged, are written dowu."

LONDON:
SAMPSON LOW, SON, & MAKSTON,

CROWN BUILDINGS. 188 FLEET STREET.

1869.

[All rtgtUa ruerved.j

]

1535 9

235150

EDINBURCIH :

FRINTED BY BALLI.ANTYNE AND COMPANY,

PAUL'S WORK.

CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTORY, VI 1

CHAPTER I. THE HOME DESTROYED, ... 1

„ II. " ON THE SAD SEA WAVE," ...

„ III. IIALIGONIAN, 30

„ IV. INTO THE BREAST OF WINTER, . . 41

„ V. UNDER THE BUFFALO ROBES, . . ").">

„ VI. THE FIRST LIFTS OF THE FOG — THE HOME

RESTORED, 72

„ VII. CREDIT AND DISCREDIT, . . . I) I

,, VIII. MARTIAL AND POLITICAL, . . . 105

„ IX. THE KNELL FROM CATHEDRAL HILL, . 123

„ X. THE LAST DUEL IN NEWFOUNDLAND, . 13G

„ XL THE ANGLICAN BRANCH OF THE CATHOLIC

CHURCH, ini

„ XIL SPRING — THE ARGONAUTS OF THE NORTH, 1 82

„ XIII. THE HARVESTS OF THE OCEAN, . . 204

„ XIV. AUTUMN — THE FIRST DAY OF THE SEASON, 227

„ XV. AUTUMN — A " WITLESS " EXPEDITION, . 241)

,, XVL " THE ODD r CK AND THE RUBBER," . 2G9

„ XVIL FAREWELL, 291

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INTRODUCTORY.

fOYAGERS in the great ships, hourly pass-
ing between England and America, sight
about the sixth day out a black desolate
headland connecting two strips of high scarped coast,
which from this point fade away towards the distant
horizons of the north and west. This is Cape Race,
the southern extremity of Newfoundland, famous for
telegraphic signals and awful shipwrecks. Beyond,
there lies inland a vast stretch of barren, bog, forest,
river, and lake, of a total area much about that of
Ireland, and stocked with herds of deer preyed on
by bears and wolves. Beavers are not extinct ; grouse
and wild fowl abundant ; salmon and trout in places to
1)6 found in any quantity. Once these were the happy
hunting-grounds of the Red Indian and the Mic-Mac.

Introductory.

The former lias entirely disappeared, and the latter
will probably soon follow the inevitable law of race.

One European only has traversed this pathless in-
terior from coast to coast. Could we but take a coup-
d'oiil of what this man saw in months of toil, the map
beneath would reflect at least one-third of water back
to our gaze : while the remarkable feature would also
present itself, that with lakes and connecting streams
absolutely countless, not a single navigable river could
anywhere be found. The cause of this phenomenon
lies in the enormous coating of moss spread over the
whole region. The masses of descending moisture are
always first absorbed by this vast sponge, which slowly
yields the produce to the lower levels. Great periodical
floods, which would ordinarily deepen the channels of
rivers, are therefore almost impossible ; neither have
the streams from this cause strength to force the
barriers of the hills and unite their waters.

Numbers of fishing settlements dot the coast, wherever
indeed nooks, bays, or creeks afford shelter. Passen-
gers ask few questions about the country, seldom
receiving satisfactory replies, as little is known about
it. Men button up their peacoats with a shrug, and
thank their stars they are passing on to more genial

I-

Introductory.

climes. The impression, if any thought is taken on
the matter, is that the place may be half-rock, half-
wilderness, reeking of unsavoury fishy smells ; that
little good ever went to it ; that nothing good ever
came out of it. Whether civilisation has ever dawned
upon the fishermen ; whether their religion be Chris-
tian or Pagan ; whether the fashions be those of the
present day or of Eden ; whether the folk eat raw
or cooked meat; are subjects of indifference to the
brighter, busier world outside the Fogs. My own
ideas, before receiving the sudden order to penetrate
the girdle of mists, and make myself a citizen of the
world within, were not unlike ; my ignorance of all
concerning it, profound.

I know now that ignorance alone has militated
against an interest in the affairs of England's Ancient
Colony. Widely different were the facts and bearings
of life there to what I had supposed. My lot has been
cast in almost every colony of our vast dominion. Not
even excepting dear old Corfu, have three happier years
than those (perforce at first, and very willingly after-
wards) in Newfoundland, been ever spent abroad.

Our duties, pleasures, and troubles there, are briefly
described in the following pages. They aim at nothing

X Introductor?/.

greater than to present an idea of the social and poli-
tical condition of the colony, with the general tone of
its society. Would that in attempting so much, I had

the gifts and talents of the chef of the Club, the

grave white-bearded Bartoletti, to whom the faintest
sketch of your intended hospitality sufficed for a per-
fect result. "Bartoletti," said Batty of the Royal
Incidentals, " I 've a few friends at dinner to-morrow ;

I should like" "Take iced champagne, sir?"

said the chef. " Certainly." " Very good, sir ; will
you have a little hock in after the fish ? " " Quite so."
"Very good, Captain Batty, I understand: you will
have a very good dinner." The guests of the following
night had never reason to complain that he had not
picked up the tone of the intended spread quite
correctly.

Little is said of the early settlements of the colony ;
for of history or story in this respect there is absolutely
none to tell of. What its political future is likely to
be, is hazardous to venture a guess at under the changes
now progressing in the British Possessions of North
America. As yet the Ancient Colony has wisely refused
to link its fortunes to the new Confederation of the
provinces, than which, it is possible, a more unsound

'li

Introductory^

or impolitic scheme was never promoted. England,
unable to defend, with so distant a base, her possessions
from the attack of a neighbouring people (who have
unexpectedly acquired the knowledge of forming a
strong military despotism at short notice, with little
scruple in using it), wishes to retire from the chance
of seeing the Union Jack lowered from the ramparts of
Quebec. But the means adopted under her guidance,
in the hope of avoiding an almost similar catastrophe,
will probably prove futile. A nation, like a poet,
nascitur non fit. It may spring (like the tree from
the acorn) from a little nucleus until it becomes in
time great and powerful, with the prestige of old
traditions and glories to bind men's hearts together in
a common cause ; or it may acquire its liberty from
bondage in a baptism of blood, equally cementing
between man and his brother man. But it cannot be
made suddenly out of various heterogeneous })article8
having nothing in common. What do the farmers of
Upper Canada care for the fishermen of Nova Scotia
one thousand miles away? or the lumbermen of the
roaring Ottawa for the amphibious folk of Gaspe?
The scheme is nothing but a rope of sand, which the
first breath of adversity will disunite and scatter. The

*■'*

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flA^\>

xii Introductory.

inevitable Yankees want the St Lawrence for geogra-
phical reasons. "Vy"e lost ourjopj)ortunity for dividing
the balance of power on the American continent when
Lee, Jackson, and Beauregard made their irnperjslia}3le
renown. Before many years we shall have to pay the
penalty.

Still, with the loss of continental territory, England,
for the sake of her commerce, must keep her chain of
ocean videttes intact ; and desperate ought to be her
efforts in extremity to retain possession of such places
as Halifax, and St John's Newfoundland, The strength
of Quebec, in its capability for long defence, has pro-
bably been over-estimated ; but St John's might be
made invulnerable, the extremity of a chain stretching
across the Atlantic from the Cape, linked together
with St Helena, Bermuda, and Halifax. Within a
few years from this, we may see its snug little harbour
(holding securely one end of the great ocean alphabet)
bristling with batteries and torpedoes, sufficient to
uphold our flag, if driven there, like Moore to Corunna,
in defence against all attack.

Loving that flag, and wedded to its fortunes, who
could not wish that towards it the loyalty of those over
whom it waves were warm and cherished. Yet here,

Introductory.

xiu

if indeed in any of our colonies now, it can hardly be
so estimated. Men's hearts are not disloyal — they are
only indifferent. Nothing is offered to warm the feel-
ing in those hearts, and the fire naturally dies out.
Talents, and services brilliant in proportion to the
situation, are rendered to the State ; yet very little
recognition ever reaches the labourers. Year by year
passes, and nothing, absolutely nothing, occurs to
arouse the love for the prestige of the old country:
no honours, no message of interest, no royal visits, or
gifts, or prizes for merit, to keep alive feelings worth all
else in the moment of danger. How truly experience
has proved already the shortsightedness of this policy !
" Why look, yer honner," said a Paddy in Canada, " if
the Quane would jist be ordering them to build her a
cuppil of pallisses in Oireland, for hersel and the little
Quanes about her, and be giving the boys good wages
durint the job, it 's little ye 'd hear of Faniism." In a
common- sense view, Paddy was near the mark. A
pint of beer served out to each soldier of the British
army on Her Majesty's birthday, to drink Her gracious
health, would be worth more than the cheering done by
order at the annual review. Schools, hospitals, good-
conduct badges, gardens, libraries, nay, even the sup-

Hi
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XIV

Introductory.

pression of the abominable stoppages, are all capital in
their way ; bnt they are not that fillip to loyalty and
affection which men in the gap will think of, when
the inevitable time for guarding the flag against
tremendous odds looms darkly in the future.

The true interests of Newfoundland and England are
linked together : long may they so remain ! Many
would mourn with me should the day come when the
old flag waved no longer from the heights of Signal
Hill. Even as I write, the fair landscape from my
window is every now and then blurred over, and a
vision of memories, very dear, revolves distinctly out of
it. I see, instead of the sunny and brown, the cold
grays and blues of a rocky coast ; instead of the smiling
harvest-fields, long stretches of barren and lea, fleckered
by the rising covey, or by patches of fruit, God-given
freely to all ! Instead of the river laden with the riches
of Hindustan and foul with the refuse of a vast city —
chain upon chain of lochs and streams of sweet spark-
ling waters, ruffled by jealous rocks, and dimpled every-
where by disporting fish ; instead of the noble crowns
of oak and elm — the pointed cones of the firs and larches
cutting sharp against the northern sky ; instead of the
balmy air of a semi-tropical summer evening — the

■u

Introductory.

glorious Aurora arching itself as a crown over the throne
of the King of winter, whence innumerable angels spread
themselves by battalions in battle array over the heavens,
moving ever and deploying in front of some foe unseen
by us ; instead of the Dundrearys and conventionalists
of the old home, — the honest faces, clear eyes, and
warm-pressing hands of unforgotten, busy, hard-work-
ing friends. To them I send the following feeble
descriptions of their lives and adopted country ; re-
gretting if there should be ought to offend ; and
glad, very glad, if these in any measure recal the times

and places wherein we talked or worked, rejoiced or
sorrowed together.

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LOST AMID THE FOGS.

CHAPTER I.

THE HOME DESTROYED.

HAT a miserable day it had been : and liow
cheerily the fire sparkled as I lay back
in my easy -chair one memorable evenings
in December 18G1. My wife, chatting
and working, was sitting opposite ; the cat, blinking
at the merry blaze, purred on the hearth-rug ; the
kettle, the sweetest lecturer on social science in all
England, was unburdening its views upon the hob ;
and on that low but genial throne of love I lay
back comfortable and happy. Perhaps the more
happy inasmuch as I was tired, not with idleness, but
good hard work. All that afternoon I had been assist-
ing a day-labourer to clear and tidy a i)ocket-handker-
chief of a garden which my predecessors had left i)lanted
with bricks, blacking bottles, o Id shoes, and such other

2 Lost Amid the Fogs.

Havoury sorts of rubbish. They evidently would have
looked with intense scorn on all our digging, clearing,
trenching, and manuring ; and would have thought it
far clieaper to have stopped the greengrocer's cart eacli
morning for a modicum of faded greens, instead of lay-
ing in the hope of fresh-cut Brussels sprouts as we did
then. Only tl»e week before it had been clearly estab-
lished l>y all hands as a sure and ascertained tact that
our brigade would not go abroad for another year at
least ; and although tlie news about the 2'rent outrage,
as the papers called it, was fanning up a very pretty
breeze throughout the country, yet somehow or other we
all thought it would soon blow itself out. Ho much had
it become the fashion with om' rulers to accept kicks on
behalf of the old British Lion, that we never expected
him to growl and lash his tail on this occasion. So I
closed the bargain with my landlord for the house,
hired the gardener, laid in a good stock of coals, and
Hent for a sister from the Channel Islands to see us well
through Lent. I thought of this while the tea was draw-
ing, and very comfortable and cosy it all appeared to be.
There was a hurried knock at the door, and the ser-
vant brought in an official letter. I hate an official
letter at any time, especially before meals. One may
receive a good many without the appetite being a whit
improved. But this one, I perfectly remember, I opened
with great nonchalance, although I might have thought
that it was an unusual time for that kind of missive to
arrive in. But had I not made my preparations, built
my little barns, stored them with good things for the

) I

I
'•.1

The Home Destroi/cd. 3

future, and, above all things, planted my Brussels
sprouts? What, then, cared I? Without a shadow
of concern I sprang the envelope and read — well, there
are some sensations in life one never forgets.

" Thou fool, this night" — it flashed through my brain
quickly enough. It was worse to tell my wife, who was
pouring out tlie tea, and calling Tom to drink his saucor
of milk.

" What is it, Rob ? Anything to worry you ?"
Well ! I forget how I told her : the remembi'ance ot
the next half hour is all dizziness. I think she came at
last to peep over my shoulder to see what that "stupid
official" contained, and tlien she read in the adjutant's
handwriting —

" j\Iy dear Siu, — The colonel has j'ust come from the
Horse Guards ; — telegraphed for by D. A. G. this after-
noon. A great deal more shine about that Treiit job
than we tliought. We are all ordered off for Canada. You
are told off for Newfoundland, and sail next Saturdav
in the Liverpool packet. Parade to-morrow at ten for
inspection ; all hands. Thought you would like to
know as soon as possible. Excuse haste. — Yours, &c.,

"J. C."

" Sail on Saturday for Newfoundland ! and this is
Wednesday night ! " As I wrote before, Avhat we said
or did that next hour is all a blur and dizziness. I
hope we remembered that it was all ordered well and
right ; but I am sure that the taste for that pleasant tea

\ .1

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4 Lost Amid the Fogs.

was gone, and that the kettle sang any longer in vnin
lor us.

There was indeed no time to be lost, and fifty liours of
crashing and smashing succeeded. Household treasures
were crushed in boxes or scattered to the four winds of
heaven ; when, ah ! when to be re-collected ? Even in
handing over the Brussels sprouts to my neighbour
over the paling there was a sharpish pang, and a hearty
confounding of Captain Wilkes's impudence. Then, far
worse, came the tearing of the heart's fibres at the part-
ing moment : the wife to go back to her maiden home,
tlie sister to her father ; and I on to a new world, where
Home to Englishmen is still an unknown word.

" 'Twaa ■winter tlioii, and as we parted
Tlie dry brown leaf was ru.stliug on the ground,
^lakinj,' the sadness sadder, and the cloud
Of the lony farewell deeper in its gloom."

In the meanwhile, hastily going backwards and for-
wards, here and there, to and fro, in hurried trips to
London and down again ; in railways, steamers, shops,
private houses, and libraries ; I had been vainly attempt-
ing to discover something, no matter how indefinite,
about Newfoundland. It appeared really to be what
its name imparted, and not the oldest possession of
the Crown, for scarce a syllable could I glean respect-

ing it.

"Newfoundland?" said one of my friends. "To be
sure ; know all about it. Fish, you know : tremendous
i)lace for salt fish ! "

i : I

The Home Destroyed.

'■ Newfoundland?" r<>plied another travelled monkey.
■' Oh, yes ! certainly ; know it very well. Banks, you
know — tremendous banks of mud, and awful fo^'s. Take
care of yourself— cold, cough, bronchitis, eh?"

''Newfoundland?" ruminated a third, more honest;
" never heard anything of it except they cook evorythini;-
in cod liver oil ! Kalher not go there myself. Good-bye;
God bless you."

Then there was a fourth and a fifth, ay, a twcntietli,
who knew only that it abounded in fish, fog, and nuid
banks. The picture was, however, sometimes com-
l)leted with ice, icebei'gs, stunted pines, seals, whales,
and other familiar items of the Arctic picture.

At length, wearied of fruitless inquiry, I turned into
a well-known chart and map shop in Charing Cross,
where they profess to have plans of all the civilised
countries of the globe.

" Newfo«mdland ? " said the shopman, laying the
accent heavy on the middle syllable; "certainly, sir.
American, I think ; Northern or Southern ? Oh !
Biitish colonv, is it? Then we sliall find it in this
lot."

His index-finger travelled down a goodly list, but no,
he didn't seem to hit it. He gave a sort of sheepish,
hesitating glance round the ample shelves of ma[)S, and
said —

" I'm half afraid, sir, we have not any maps of New-
foundland. I really don't think it has ever been inquired
for till now. But stop — by the by, perhaps this will do."
He pulled out, from an immense flat drawer full of

• w

6 Lost Amid the Fogs.

charts, an Admiralty Survey of the coast line about the
j^reat banks, with the soundings marked by hundreds
all about it. What with the meridians and parallels,
compass marks and tracks of ships, it looked as if a
spider had dipped his legs in the ink bottle and travelled
leisurely about the paper. Moreover, it was a very
likely thing to be useful to any one desiring a knowledge
of tlie interior of the country : very !

" Ah ! well, sir," he said, " we 've nothing more. I
am sorry I cannot accommodate you." It was clearly
of no use going further to ask for a " Murray's
Guide."

So this is all I could scrape together of my future
home, with one other little matter that may as well bo
told. There was an officer's widow, a lady of mature
years, who lived on the outskirts of our great garrison
town, attached by long association to its unbucolic
habits and sounds, which possess often but little fas-
cination for many, condemned, malgre eux, to live by
them. I remembered somehow or other, many years
back, when a subaltern under her husband, hearing
her talk of Newfoundland, and just thought that I
would run up and ask her about it. It was the last
card, and it certainly did not turn out much of a
trump. She laughed at my calling it New-foimdland,
and said :

" Newfunlan' ? oh, yes ; I was there several years.

Colonel C was a captain then. It was when we

first married."

" Indeed. And did you like it ? "

The Home Destroyed.

" Like it ? — well, yes, very much. I was veiy linp]iy
there."

" And what did you do ? "

" Do? — well, I don't think we did anythinj^."

" I mean, how did you amuse yourself?"

" Oh ! there are no amusements. It 's quite out of all
that sort of thing, except when the letters arrived once
a month or six weeks."

" H'ni ! Are there good roads ? "

" No. Scarcely any roads at all that can be called
roads; but then in winter you .may drive where you like
in the sleighs."

" And the food ? "

" Well, the beef was not bad, and the bread good."

" Any fruit or gardens ? "

" Oh, no ; nothing of that sort. Indeed, the summer is
too short, except for early vegetables. The cabbages,
I remember, growing in the ditch of the old fort, were
splendid."

There was a grain of comfort then, thought I, re-
membering my unfortunate s}>ec in Brussels sprouts.

" Well, but is there nothing else ? "

" Yes ; there 's plenty of salt iish, and pork, and snow,
and wild ducks, and Irish Papists. Oii ! I remember
now, it's an awful place for wind"

'-Wind?"

" Yes. It blows terribly, and it was always blowing.
We were often and often obliged to walk out tiod two
and two together."

Mercy on us ! thought I, as I went away quite full

'f-,

. t

Lost Amid the Fogs.

of valuable information ; and this worthy lady told me
she had been very happy there, and yet she can remem-
ber nothing of the place but salt pork, wild ducks, snow,
Irish Papists, and wind 1 none of which, to the minds of
common men, contain the essential elements of happi-
ness. It was very clear that her happiness consisted in
the home which she formed for herself and its secret
inward joys ; and I thought none the less of her for the
sweet truth she had unwittingly betrayed, but yet had
never spoken in sober fact or word.

But what was I to make of it? Why, nothing —
really nothing. The spider's legs over the Admiralty
chart were just as explanatory ; and I knew no more if
I was to take out flannel shirts or strawberry jam,
railway books or Victoria druggeting, than I did before.
Peoi)le do not usually travel about with barrels of salt
pork, so a knowledge of the superabundance of that
delicate viand by no means assisted or refreshed my
nuisings. So this is why, the reason why, that I, hav-
ing now experience of the things wherein the first Fish
Colony is a sealed book, an unknown land, a country
almost undiscovered, at any rate on the shelves of Mudi(^
or the parlour tables of English homes, have taken pity
on future voyagers, to tell them what they will see, and
taste, and hear within the rocky barriers which frown
upon the white sails hurrying across the misty banks of
black, inhospitable-looking Newfoundland.

CHAPTER II.

ON THE SAD SEA WAVE.

HE clicks of the noble Cunardcr, in which we
were ordered to embark in Liverpool, were
crowded with officers and soldiers, together
with tr.e few male passengers who had secure<l
their berths before the Quartermaster- General pounced
upon the accommodation. Boots it now very little to
tell of the thousand phases of farewell and tender linger-
ing looks of affection, or of last words hurriedly scratched
off amid the din and medley of the saloon tables. Yet
even here one could not see with indifference the sad
sight of a sobbing girl ; sobbing over some great uncon-
(pierable grief. The sounds came from amid a litth^
group gathered near the top of the companion stairs,
near to which several of us lingered, partly in sympathy,
and partly in idle curiosity.

" I do assure you. Miss," said a female voice, brealc-
ing my reverie quite sharply — " I do assure you, Mi.ss,
there is no room. It's quite impossible as how you can
come this voyage ; nor you, Miss, neither."

The voice was that of the stewardess expostulating

Lost Amid the Fogs.

with two young ladies, who had pinned the wortliy sea-
abigail at the head of the stairs, and resolutely refused
to take " No " for an answer.

" Botli married this week," whispered Ensign Sharp
to me ; " isn't it a pretty go ? "

The ladies were pretty at any rate, and not the less
interesting from the fact conveyed by the whisper. The
younger, who could barely have counted seventeen, leant
against one of the painted panels, her hands crossed in
front, and her blue e5^es suffused with tears. She had
evidently given up the fight, and was reflecting how she
should best reach home again. But the other was made
of different stuff altogether. Some two and twenty
summers had ripened her into one of the tiuest and
fairest types of the Anglo-Saxon woman a man might
meet with in a very long day's march. Nor was it
difficult to Kce in the fixed expression of tliat deep-set
hazel eye and compressed lips, a meaning which might
he interpreted, " If j^ou think I have gone through all
tins and come so far to turn back again, you are pre-
ciously mistaken."

" Are you sure, stewardess, that the ladies' saloon is
full?"

" Oh ! full ! Miss," (the lady tossed her head just the
merest little,) "I do assure you — turned upside-down
intirely. The strictest orders was given, and we was
told as how no ladies was coming, and Govinment has
t-^ok up everything."

" But they said at the office I might come if you
would find accommodation."

On the Sad Sea Wave."

" I m sure it's quite unpossible, Miss," (another little
loss), "and so many gentlemen a-board."

" Then I must take Captain T 's berth, and he

will sleep on the floor."

" But, Miss," (spoken this time a little doubtfully,)
" the gentlemen is all doubled up together in the
cabins," said the poor mystified woman, trying to make
a side-move down the stai? s.

Clank, clank, ring, ring, clank, clank, ring, ring, ring,
the second bell for starting. " Who's for the shore?"
(;ried a hoarse voice at the gangway.

The lady fixed her lips still more firmly, and more
brightly flashed that hazel eye. Bending forward to the
stewardess, she said, " Then I will sleep on the saloon
floor, unless you will let me purchase the riglit to your
cabin."

Triumphant ! by all that is holy in love. Amphitrite,
grown gray in Neptune's service, was not deaf to the
value of earth's yellow dross. She hesitated, stammered,
appeared to think, and was lost. '* Come," said the
happy bride, " go, like a good creature, and get it ready;
we shan't quarrel about terms. Charlie," she continued,
turning to a young officer who approached her with
rather a woe-begone face, "go quick and speak to the

agent, and tell Captain C to do so too. Don't be

afraid," she added, again approaching her weeping
weaker sister, (a stranger, as it turned out, until that
morning,) " depend upon it we shall find i)lenty of
room."

And so they did : for that evening, by the clear, bright

I : I

1:^

ill

Lost Amid the Fogs.

starlight, I saw them pacing, arm-in-arm, up and down
the hurricane-deck, turning wistful looks now and again
towards the eastern horizon, below which home was
rapidly descending. The pleasant voices of the happy
brides were as the old shoe flung after us in our exile,
and an omen of another home to be recreated in the
land to which not choice, but stern fate had wedded us.
Is it too old a story to talk a little of these great
floating-hotels with which the skill and genius of a.
Liverpool man has linked the two continents together ?
Men who have travelled much about the world arc
enabled to make comparisons of the good and bad — oi-
l)erliaps it may be more courteous to say, of the good
and better — arrangements both of this and of other
great transatlantic lines ; to note on one side, in the
midst of nuich that is admirable, blotches of meanness,
dirt, and disorder plainly visible ; while in other cases,
strict attention to cleanliness, order, and liberality con-
duce vastly to the comfort of the voyagers and to the
Avelfare of the proprietors. It is not to be supposed
that all arrangements for ocean-travel have been pei-
fected — that the ultima Thule of order in sea-going
ships has been reached ; but at any rate it was marvel-
lous to see, in the midst of the wide expanse of water,
our tables covered four times each day with such a
quantity and variety of well-dressed food. Nor even if
it has been described before in brighter pages, these
shall not omit a word of praise upon the manner in
which our meals were served — a point which enhanced
oy a vast deal the general comfort of all on board. The

On the Sad Sea Wave:'

tables ran along the whole length of either side of the
saloon beneath the hurricane-deck, leaving a broad pas-
sage between for the use of the waiters. These, a large
body of respectable-looking young men, all dressed alike
in dark blue, ranged themselves, at the first sound of the
dinner-bell, in a line, dressed as truly as at a parade,
reaching from the pantry-door to the head of the saloon.
From the moment the cloths were spread by a few of
them, every dish, or plate, or bottle was passed from top
to bottom of the row, hand over hand, like monkeys are
said to steal cocoa-nuts from enclosures. We will suj)-
pose the passengers seated, and the tureens of soup at
the head of the various tables. There is a sound of a
bell, — one, — and instantly, from the parade of silent,
marshalled waiters, there steps out each sixth or eighth
man, and, with two paces, advancing together, the hands
are simultaneously placed on the covers, a glance at the
head of the table, where the captain sits, and at once
the fragrant steam of a dozen tureens is released. This
is the signal for the parade to break, and for a minute,
while the soup is being distributed, the centre aisle is
all apparent confusion ; but the warning bell sounds
again, the parade instantly reforms, the appointed men
come and lift off the tureens on the starboard side, which
are handed down the line to the pantry. The bell sounds
— two — the signal for the whole line to face to the right-
about, and the " port" side is cleared in like manner with
the rapidity of thought, instantly to be furnished with
fish and side dishes, and "right-about" all together to
the starboards. Then a short double-shuffle down the

Lost Amid (he Fogs.

centre, a tinkle, and the whole line rapidly forms up for
the third set — ;joint8 and vegetables. The sweets, cheeses,
dessert, and coffee complete the full figures of this pran-
dial quadrille, which, with its intervening mazes, is danced
to the music of popping corks and merry laughter of
some two hundred guests, for whom this amusement is
provided four times a day. The most remarkable fea-
ture of the whole ship to me was the silence, order, and
regularity with which all this heavy work was done.
Each man knew his place well, and it was said that to
neglect or leave that place was tantamount to quit the
ship and the service of the company.

It was in truth a merry dinner always, in spite of the
cold; and there was a good reason why it should be so.
( )n account of the somewhat exceptional nature of the
voyage on this occasion, the captain had drawn the three
senior officers apart and told them that the officers might
(•all for what liquors they chose ; and that, so long as
they kept within moderate bounds, and did not greatly
exceed the Government allowance, no accounts would
be kept. "You are very good," replied the colonel,
" and we are much obliged to the company; but I think
it would be prudent to say nothing about it now, for
there are no less than twenty-seven young assistant-
surgeons among us." The captain laughed with a merry
twinkle in his eye, and said, " In that case it certainly
would be prudent." However, the news leaked out, and
consequently the dinners were none the less noisy and
merry ; while the fish, if there were any in these icy
waters, or Mother Carey's chickens in our wake, must

On the Sad Sea jyave.''

Imve been astonished at the number of champagne
bottles tossed among them. If a universal earthquake
or deluge take place hereafter, burying the present
abodes of men, and lifting up the bottom of the Atlantic
jis the future home of, perhaps, a superior race of beings,
how will their geologists account for the nuUtitude of
bottles wliicli, like the flints in the present chalks, will
be foiuul in regular layers or strata in the tracks of the
great steam lines from England to America and India ?
Perhaps they will found their future theories of the
habits of the former animal man on this circumstance
among others ; and with what result in their specula-
tions, or how far their guesses would be from the truth,
would be amusing and interesting could we but know
them now.

One day when nearly off Cape Race, either the corks
had Hown faster than ever, or there was some unusual
reason of merriment at the captain's table, just above
ours, causing even the waiters, in the grave figures of
the grand quadrille, to bend forward to listen and in-
dulge in fiu'tive giggles. The infection spread from
table to table, and we soon found out what it was ;
though at first all down the starboard side, round the
stern, and up the port side again, one could distinguish
nothing among the babble but " boots" and " bet," "dol-
lars," " Yankee," and such few prominent words. How-
ever, we had it all complete at last. A New York
gentleman laid a wager with the captain, of a bottle ot
champagne, that he could not give him a correct answer
within a minute to the following simple question —

i «

Lost Amid the Fogs.

"A Yankee ruahed into a bootmaker's store in Broad-
way, * Here, look sharp 1 ' cried he— 'just off for Cali-
fornia—ship sails in half an hour— want a pair of
boots — look alive 1 ' Down tumbled the boots off the
shelves, from which he was soon fitted. * How much ?'
' Five dollars.' ' Give me change for this fifty-dollar
bill — sharp, quick 1 ' The bootmaker, not having change,
rushed to a money-changer. ' Quick, give me change
for this fifty-dollar bill — passenger just off to California;'
and in a few minutes away ran the Yankee with his
boots — off to California, of course. In about an hour
afterwards the money-changer came down to the boot-
maker, ' Holloa ! sir,' quoth he, ' this is a bad bill ; pay
me down fifty dollars at once,' which the poor fellow,
nuich disgusted, had to do. Now, how much did the
bootmaker lose ?

'' Come, captain, quick ! answer ; no thinking about
it."

" Eh, sir ? how much did he lose ? Why, one hun-
dred dollars, of course."

There was a shout of laugiiter round the table, and
cries of " Right," " Wrong," in all directions.

"Why, you forget," cried one, "that the boots were
paid for."

" What 's that to do with it ?" said another ; " didn't
the Yardcee carry them off, and was not the bill bad ? "

" Of course it was," said his neighbour.

" The captain 's right."

" Bet you a sovereign he 's wrong."

" Done. What do you say it is ? "

fi:

" On the Sad Sea Wave."

" Why. fifty dollars and the boots. Am I right,
sir?"

But the New-Yorker only laughed, and the chorus
with him became louder. The question spread from
table to table, right down, round the stern and up the
port side, " What did the bootmaker lose?" until our
ears were deafened with the answers and bets.

At length it reached a great big Boston man, who had
set up among us as a sort of oracle ; for he wore long,
straight, black clothes, of a clerical cut, and above his
grey head and huge Happing ears a monstrrius shovel
hat. We had all taken him for a superannuated bislioj),
until his friends let out" that he had been at the head
of a great insuiance ofHce all his life, deep in all the
mysteries of policy and i)remiuni ; so that verily it was
tliought assurance indeed when a pert ensign said —

" Now, I '11 tell you what, old buck ; bet you a bottle
of champagne you don't tell right off, ' What did the
bootmaker lose?'"

" Sir," said the big man, with much gravity, " I
decline the bet ; but I shall be happy to answer your
(juestion if you will put it."

So he was told, and then the pert ensign said again :
" Now, tell us — quick, old boy — * What did the boot-
maker lose?'"

" What did he lose, sir ? Why, sir, he lost, of course,
fifty dollars, on the one hand, which he returned to the
money-changer, and forty-five dollars which he gave the
rogue. He lost, sir, of course, ninety-five dollars, and
the boots."

• !

■M-

Lost Amid the Fogs.

But, alas for the bishop-lookinjoj broker ! A ludicrous
shout of derision from some who had found it out
greeted his reply ; upon which he rose with a heavy
frown, and went on deck.

Then again rose the cry, " What did the bootmaker
lose ?" from all parts of the table.

" Fifty-five dollars," cried a venturesome guess.
" Forty-five," cried another, equally confident in his
reasons. But the New-Yorker only smiled and laughed
with all, telling us to give reasons for our answers.

The very waiters carried it into the pantry, bake-
house, and galleys, whence it went to the second-
class passengers and the forecastle; until all round
the ship, in a circle from the red-hot funnel, where
mostly we did congregate, was heard the familiar cry,
'"What did the bootmaker lose?" Reader, what was
it, and why ?

It really did one's heart good to hear those hard-
working waiters crack their jokes on it in the recesses of
the pantry. It is the best sign in the world, and the
safest guarantee for the comfort, either of home or
public life, to hear the fellow-creatures on whom we so
much depend laughing and singing about us ; and,
further than this, one may be certain of the true calibre
of our neighbours or companions in the scale of gentle-
men or gentlewomen, in observing the manner of their
address to their inferiors. To many men (like myself)
it were far better to have no servants at all, than to be
waited on in gloom, suUenness, dirt, or incapability,
whether from ill -health or ignorance; and for this

On the Sad Sea Wave."

11)

reason it might devoutly bo wislicd tlmt tlie order
observed in this lino wcro the rule on other great lines
of steam- (ronimunicat ion. I well remember one night,
8ome three or four years ago, when running down before
the trades, and just off that fatal rock islet of Sombrero,
the vidette of the great Antillean group, that at a sud-
den disturbance kicked up at the small hours by some
wild young ensigns, to my astonishment the waiters
appeared on tlio scene, at tiie very begirming of tlie row,
all fully dressed. The next day I called my cabin
steward, rather angrily, to tell him "that again there
was no water in the jug," and blew him up for his ever-
lasting carelessness, when his forlorn, toil-worn, greasy
look went to my heart ; and I hajipily remembered in
time ray own easy lot witli his hard measure of
bondaire.

" Where did you," I asked, " spring from last night
in the row ? "

" Spring from, sir ? Why, nowheres, 'cept under
the table."

" But you can't sleep there ; you were dressed, the
same you now are."

" Well, sir, begging your pardin, wc do sleep there ;
and, in course, we 's never undressed."

" What ! " I exclaimed, petrified with astonishment,
" do you mean to tell me that you and the other waiters
have never undressed since you left England ! "

"Not that I knows on, sir; we ain't got no cabin,
nor no place."

" No berths or bunks ? "

: t

: -

Lost Amid the Fogs.

" No, sir; none. When we are empty we gets berths ;
but they takes them away for passengers whenever they
are wanted."

The thermometer was 90° in the shade, sometimes
hotter; and we were now nineteen days from home.
He rolled away with a languid step to fetch the water,
and I, folding my arms in my bare shirt- sleeves, had a
(juiet minute or two to think over this miserable revela-
tion, made on board one of the finest ships of a great
steam company in the year of grace 1858. And this
was the reason why the poor fellows died like rotten
sheep at St Tiiomas. The man who spoke to me him-
self is dead since of yellow-fever there ; he was gradu-
ally sickening for it as he gave me the tale. What !
sla.'ery not in Europe, or in English ships? and all
tliis misery caused to swell the dividend a miserable
sixteenth per cent, each half-year ? What wonder the
superstitious fancied that an avenging Heaven struck
liard at such an iniquitous system, and sent their noble
ships to split on rocks, or self-consume in withering
flames ; their bows once turned away, never again to
point or bring back their ill-gotten gains to Old Eng-
land's shore. Hero and there, on the deserted coral
reef, their iron ribs are cankering in rust, like the
skeleton of many a poor English slave thrown on the
sandy strand to rot, while wife and little ones are still
dreaming of the good things " when fatlier comes back
again." Alas ! all they will hear is from the boatswain's
rough voice, telling them that he died of Yellow Jack
and he "don't know any more about it."

" On the Sad Sea Wave.

Here is the story: never,
touchingly told before: —

I venture to say, more

" Sailing away !
Losing the l)reatli of the shores in May —
Dropjuug down from the heautifiil bay,
Over the sea-sh)i»e vast and gray !
And the Skijiper's eyes witli a mist are hlind ;
For thoughts rush up on the rising wind
Of a gentle face that he leaves hehind,
And a heart that throbs through the fog-bank dim,
Thinking of him.

" Far into night
He watches the gleam of the lessening light
Fix'd on the dangerous island height
That bars the harbour he loves from sight ;
And he wishes at dawn he could tell the tale
Of how they had weather'd the southward gale,
To Inighten the cheek that had grown so pale
With a sleepless night among spectres grim —
Terrors for him.

"Yo-heavc-ho !
Here 's the bank where the fishermen go !
Over the schooner's sides they throw
Tackle and l)ait to the deeps Ijelow,
And Skipper Ben in the water sees.
When its ripples curl to the light land-breeze,
Something that stirs like his ai)ple trei's.
And two soft eyes that beneath tlu'm swim.
Lifted to him.

" Hear the wind roar.
And the rain through the slit sails tear and ])iuir !
' Steady ! we '11 scud by the Cape Ann shore —
Then hark to the Beverly bells once mon- ! '
And each man work'd with the will of ten ;
Whilf lip in the rigging now and then

22 Lost Amid the Fogs.

The liglitning glared in the face of Ben,
Turn'd to the bhvck horizon's rim,
Scowling on him.

" Into his brain
BurnVl with the iron of hopeless pain.
Into thoughts that grapple and eyes that strain,
Pierces the memory, cruel and vain !
Never again shall he walk at ease
Under his blossoming apple-trees,
That whisper away in the sunset breeze.
While the soft eyes float where the sea-gulls skim,
Gazing on him.

" How they went down
Never was known in the still old town ;
Nobody guess'd how the lisherman brown.
With the look of «lespair, that was half a frown,
Faced his fate in tlie furious night.
Faced the mad billows with hunger white,
Just within hail of the beacon light,
That shone on a woman sweet and trim.
Waiting for him.

" Beverly bells
Ring to tlie tide as it ebbs and swells !
His was the anguish a moment tells —
The passionate sorrow Death quickly knells ;
But the wearing wash of a lifelong woe
Is left for the desolate heart to know,
Whose tides with the dull years come antl go,
Till hoj)e drifts dead to its stttgnant Inim,
Thinking of him.''

Six days away from England, battling with the fierce
winds and storm-tossed waves to make our way boldly
into the midst of the wide and mistv Atlantic. The
south-west, from out of a murky bank, had risen in all
his vast impetuous strength and plunged us headlong

" On the Sad Sea Wave"

into misery and turmoil; that is, such of us, and we are
legion, who like the sea in fair Aveather passably enough,
but are worse than useless mortals in a gale of wind —
useless to ourselves, nauseous and troublesome to those
about us. The great waves, swelling into liquid moun-
tains along the horizon, tossed the good ship like a cork
on their surface, and would as equally have tossed the
Great Eastern, or anything which tlie hand of man
could manufacture. It was an appro})riate thought
now — when, leaning over the bulwarks, clutching tightly
to the shrouds, and watching the rise of successive*
mountains of water over the dark line where earth and
heaven mingled imperce])tibly — of man and all his be-
longings ! How apparently insignificant they appeared
to the terrible powers which hissed through the dis-
tended rigging, and contemptuously dashed the salt
spray over and over the gallant vessel defying their
utmost powers of destruction. It is something to think
at all in such a moment, and it cannot be done for long.
The brain becomes too addled for philosophy. One may
look hastily, think briefly, conceive the beauty, i)Ower,
and glory of the appearance, and then sink back at
once into the realities such conflicts produce in the dis-
comfort of the inner man. It was dirty, gloomy, nuiggy.
wet, sticky everywhere. Even down below in the
cabins the moisture ran off the walls, and daylight was
\)ut a mockery of the name. Four days of terrible
unrest and weariness before the fierce storm passed us
by, or, in nautical j)hrase, the wind chopped to N.-E.,
with smoother seas, and then to N.-W., with sleet

; 1

Lost Amid the Fogs.

and snow, and piercing, bitter cold. Each hour, as
we approached the American shore, the cold became
more and more intense ; the voyagers in greater num-
bers crowded to the lee of the hot, red funnel, and asked
each other wonderingly the figures of the thermometer,
or betted or hedged upon the chances of peace or war
with the Yankees. Then two or three would link arms
together, and stagger, with heads down, along the deck
until forced back for heat and shelter again ; while, ever
and anon, the ship would lurch heavily, and come back
upon her roll with a sluggish thump, from which a
shower of salt spray would tower some twenty feet above
her bows, to fall back upon the deck and shrouds a
mass of broken, glistening, crystal ice. Perhaps it
was all a joke to Arctic voyagers, and that Sir Leopold
M'Clintock's crew would hardly have buttoned up their
pea-jackets to face such a trifle as a keen nor'-wester at
27 ' below zero ; but to us, unaccustomed to it and un-
prepared, it was three days of real misery, which few
would care to pass again, and which many did pass in
their berths entirely, huddled tight beneath the blan-
kets. One might envy the cook in his warm, comfort-
able galley, and linger abc ul the little iron door, almost
wishing to volunteer as assistant, until the close smell,
and the heat, and the oil from the engine-room close at
hand, combined with the quick, unsteady motion of the
ship, drove all loiterers up to face the blast, and crouch
again behind the red funnel for shelter. But all miseries
have their end ; and, on the morning of the day before
we reached Halifax, the fierce destroyer had passed

" 071 the Sad Sea Wave"

2")

onwcard, and .a raw, damp wind from the southward
had taken liis place upon the mighty plains of ocean.
But, look ! what wonder, what marvel is this ? The
ship is literally hung with diamonds ! Each mast, and
rope, and shroud, and stay coated with transparent ice,
inches thick, upon wliich the rays of light, hreaking
ever and anon from hehind the mists, resolve themselves
into a million points of prismatic, inharmonious colour.
The sailors are knocking off the ice from ropes, and
shrouds, and yards, whence, like showers of hroken glass,
it descends crashing on the decks. From our shelter
hehind the great, red funnel we watch them sweeping
it, hy great shovelfuls, overhoard, and wonder what they
would give a harrel for it in Cairo, where the hot blast
of the sirocco dries the very tongue and throat to leather.
If one could only sink distance, it would literally, as
in many other riches of earth, be throwing silver over-
hoard by the bushel.

" Such terrible waste ! isn't it, dear ? " said a sweet,
soft voice close at hand. " Don't you wish, dear,
we had it all for our poor old folks down at the
lodge ? '

It was the voice of the brave young bride, who was
leaning near the gangway on her husband's arm. Well,
thought I, a curious wish indeed ; maybe my face ex-
pressed the thought, for she nodded, and said —

" I was thinking what a pity to see so much good
stuff thrown overboard. Oh ! so very sad ! such ter-
rible waste 1 "

" But it's not of much use," I replied, deferentially ;

Lost Amid the Fogs.

" and the old women in England would scarcely care
for it."

" Ah ! indeed you 're mistaken, indeed you are ; we
could pick out all the good bits, and there appear such
a quantity thrown away."

' ": i*^ surely they would find little nourishment in
ice?"

" Ice ! " she exclaimed, — " ice! I don't mean the ice ;"
and she laughed a merry peal of cheerful sounds.
" Oh • ^^ " ■ yon surely did not think I meant the ice ;
I was ta.''Jn,- -1^ tlie great basketsful of remains from
the cahi.i tabi.'S v.''>ich I see thrown overboard. Now,
wasn't 1. Charlie, ;. '^''

*' Chatting ..-ji.c-e.).. ><^ '■■ parcel of stuff, eh, Carry?
I dare say."

" I '11 pinch your arm if you say that again, sir; I
will, Charlie. I wasn't talking nonsense of a parcel of
stuff. Perhaps you have not seen the great baskets of
provisions thrown overboard," she added, turning again
to our group.

" No, indeed, I could not have supposed it ; perhaps
it 's the mere rubbish."

" Indeed it is not rubbish. You can have no idea
what is in those baskets which are turned into the sea
three times a-day. I saw legs of fowls, and wings too,
great bits of turbot, slices of beef and mutton, mince
pies, cheese-cakes, biscuit, bread, ham, and fifty other
things all muddled together, enough to feed a whole
village, if properly cleaned, and put on one side. Oh !
it 's so sad to think of such waste, indeed it is ! "

On the Sad Sea Wave."

" But, my dear Carry, you don't suppose it's done on
purpose ; depend upon it the steward would make some-
thing of it if he could keep it."

" Let's ask him, Charlie; there's a dear: it makes
me quite unhappy."

" Very good, little woman ; anything to satisfy you :
come along."

So slipping and sliding along the hurricane-deck,
down the corkscrew-ladder, and beyond the bar, we
solicited an audience of the great functionary within,
and had the gratification of seeing him smile compla-
cently, though withal not witliout a touch of pity when
our request was made known.

" Bless you, ma'am !" he vouchsafed to reply, " we 've
a tried it scores of times, both a winter and a summer ;
and it isn't to be done. When we first started, the
most i)articular orders were given by the owners to
save all the good scrai)s for the j)oor at Liverpool and
New York ; but the whole mass of it fermented, and
smelt, and moulded ; and there was such a quantity
that there was no place to keep it ; and, in short, there
was no help but to pitch it away, and overboard it goes."

" It's very sad," said the tender-hearted girl, " to see
such waste."

"So it is, ma'am, so it is; but where 's the help?"
Here 's some nice, hot, smoking currant buns, just out of
the oven. Please help yourself, ma'am ; I thought
they'd be just the thing for this miserable day."

And thus the chief of the stewards dismissed his
pf'titioners with their hands full of cheery, hot brown

\ I

Lost Amid the Fogs.

cake, fragrant with fruit and candied lemon-peel. The
young wife ran off with a handful down the cabin-
stairs for her sick friend, the old stewardess ; and before
one could count twenty she was walking with her hus-
band up and down the icy deck again, and exchanging
pleasant words all round. A very queen among us she
had been the few days of our companionship together,
and worthily had she sat upon her throne. There was
nothing wonderful in the homage paid her by a large
mixed set of officers and travellers ; how one ran for a
stool and another for a shawl ; how all waited for her
to take her place at dinner, and rose at our end of the
table when she gave the signal ; or brought her books
to read, and gladly took a lesson in cribbage and back-
gammon when the candles were lighted. Nothing
wonderful in all this, nothing ; for a woman at all ages
may command or take it. She was young, but it was
not that ; she was fair to look on and comely, but it was
not that ; she was sharp, and quick, and clean, but it
was not that: it was, that she was kind, and cheerful,
and gentle, and, withal, strong in good common-sense,
supported by a total absence of prudery and affectation.
Womanly as a woman, she sat among a mingled mass
of men who were her servants at any moment, and
proud to do a little service at her bidding ; men who
knew instinctively that such a woman was able and
willing to do them a service should necessity arise ; a
woman weak and pliable in sunshine and prosperity,
yet one who would arise a lioness under the trials and
adversitie" of a Saragossa or a Lucknow.

" On the Sad Sea Waver

" {'iiss we the long, unvarying' course ; the track,
Ol't trod, that never leaves u trace Iteliiud ;
Pass we the calm, the }?ale, the change, the tack,
And each unknown caprice of wave ur wind ;
I'as.s we the joys and soitows sailor.s tind,
(.'oop'd in their winged sea-girt citadel —
The foul, the fair, the contrary, the kind.
As breezes rise and fall, and billows swell —
Till, on some jocund morn — lo ! Land ! and— all is well."

Next (lay we were off-and-on llie port of Halifax,
waiting in a dense fog for a pilot; guns firing each
([uarter of an hour, the captain pacing the bridge ini-
l)atiently, and heavy wagers rapidly passing among the
ensigns and assistant-surgeons relative to the moment-
ous question of peace or war. Suddenly, about mid-
day, without warning, the pilot was alongside, and
hailing for a rope. There was a rush to the gangway
and a cry for news. " Is it war ? — Is it peace ? Oh,
]i)ilot, speak, I do entreat you, speak ! " And so entreated,
lliat oracle squirted a mouthful of juice upon the deck,
and most poetically replied —

" The skunks have gived 'em up. I knowed they
would."

There was a groan and a shout of dismay among
our junior comrades as their vision of glory melted
into air. "Who'll buy a revolver?" cried Ensign
Sparkles, "going cheap;" and in another hour we
were alongside the Cunard wharf at Halifax.

CHAPTER III.

HALIGONIAN.

TAFF officers by dozens on tlic wharf, and
indescribable confusion everywhere for about
two liours ; at the end of which time some
two hundred officers had received orders for
their various destinations, and we had been transferred to
the Tuscaloosa, lying at the orders of the Quartermaster-
Ceneral, in the harbour. To see the men settle down
in their new floating-barrack was the work of another
hour, when, as the wind had risen to a contrary gale,
and the Tuscaloosa had scarcely any coals on board, the
captain decided that he could not start till the next
day for Sydney, Cape Breton, where he was to replenish
his stock of fuel. This ascertained, a party of us went
on shore for the night, partly on business, partly to see
the place, or rather so much of it as peeped out of its
mantle of pure white, whereby we could count the steeples
against the sky, and note here and there patches of dark
wood on the hills around. At such a season as this
there is little else to be enjoyed, for the snow is no re-
specter of nature's features ; be they stern or soft, beau-

Haligonian.

tifiil or tame, varied or monotonous, it covers all alike.
But in the bright, gay summer-time, as I saw it after,
Halifax has its own share of beauty. Built on the
slope of a hill, facing the neck of a magnificent harbour,
with abundant room to expand in all directions land-
ward, and deep water for ships along the wharves sea-
ward, with a fine climate and large trade, the stranger
has a right to look for a city with the visible marks of
])ros})crity on its face. Nor is ho disa])pointed. For
he can walk some miles through streets with fair houses
and good shops, sprinkled here and there with build-
ings of more important pretensions and better style of
architecture. He will observe the streets to be well laid
out, and increasing in breadth as they stretch toward
the country ; that there is a style about the greater
part of the well-to-do houses bespeaking the substantial
comfort of the English home within ; and, lastly, that
many of the streets are lined with noble trees, which,
not only in the balsamic fragrance of their blossoms in
spring, but afterwards in the flickering shadows thrown
across the highways, add much to the enjoyment of the
citizens. Standing on the crest of the parapet of the
citadel, and taking a traveller's glance at all beneath ;
the city sloping to the water's edge, with its thirty
thousand inhabitants ; the busy wharves crowded with
ships ; the lines of broad road stretching on all sides
like a giant network into the distance, entangling in
the meshes farms and villas often half-hid by wood or
thicket ; the blue harbour, island-guarded from the sea,
and expanding, as it recedes landward, into a noble

I 1

Lost A mid the Fogs.

i i

basin ; or, lastly, as the eye follows the wake of the
little steamer to its landing-place at the pretty suburb
opposite, and notes the villas and farms concealed upon
the hills, as they undulate and deepen in the distance —
all is to the outward eye prosperity and advancement.
No doubt, as in other human lots, there are cankers
within, but the impression gleaned from the sur-
face glance leave pleasant things for the memory to
dwell on.

A large place now, yet the nucleus of a mighty city,
the capital of the England of the New World. Yet it
is not so long ago, little more than a century, that
Lord Cornwallis laid its foundations, and foresaw the
})rogress of an empormm commenced within the shelter
of such a noble harbour. With a climate fit to work
in to the greenest old age ; in which the fruits of the
earth ripen abundantly; with its coasts swarming with
fish ; with a position conmianding the commerce of two
great continents ; with shelters and estuaries in which
old ocean ebbs and flows, with daily invitation to build
the ships which ride his bosom ; with timbers and cattle,
and the bed of the earth replete with coal and minerals
beyond all calculation ; with a free government and
equality for all religions in the commencement of its
career, it is in truth hard to calculate to what state of
civilisation and grandeur such a country miglit in years
upon years advance. The world has never yet seen
such a commencement with such advantages. This is
the true England in the New World. Let us hope she
may be worthy of her progress and position.

Haligonian.

:i3

Little did I think, as I made these reflections on
descending the hill of the citadel, what an unwilling
opportunity I was about to have of seeing the country
in its whole length, and, alack 1 present dreariness.

It so happened that, on leaving the ship for the
shore, I had brought a favourite cat for a run or a
little lovemaking with the blue-nosed feline beauties,
as Tom might happen to find it. How it came to pass
that we two were fellow-travellers through this hard
world was in this wise.

Five years before this time it was my fate to be
quartered at that delectable hole, Port Royal, Jamaica.
Built at the extremity of a long sandsi)it running into
the sea, with a nigger town on the interior side, and
beyond that a huge burying-ground called the " Pali-
sades," with neither food to eat, books to read, nor
people to speak to, with the thermometer ;, 84", and
swarms of sandflies at intervals, — dissolution, disgust,
and dreariness, are but feeble names wherewith to
describe the existence we submitted to. Now and then
there was the sharp shock of an earthquake, often
serious enough, as history can tell, in these parts ; but
the enemy we dreaded was like the Almighty of old,
neither in the wind, nor the earthquake, nor the fire,
but in the still small voice which ever and anon whis-
pered each morning of death, sudden death to the
strongest as well as to the most feeble of our little band
of exiles. The archangel who so terribly brooded over
our destinies was the fatal yellow-fever of the American

tropics. At the moment of which I am speaking, there

Lost Amid the Fogs.

were living in the barracks facing the little parade
thirteen people. Of these, within three weeks, we
buried seven, two went to England more dead than
alive, three recovered, and one escaped attack alto-
gether.

Among those who died was the doctor's wife, the
kindest creature and the tenderest nurse to all about
her. This bereavement, together with the fatigue he
underwent, broke the poor doctor down ; and he was
ordered to England on sick-leave. I saw him off by the
mail- packet one morning at daybreak, and as I looked
into his face, I saw in it that unmistakable yellow-
leaden hue, too well known as the forerunner of the fatal
messenger. I pressed the hand of a dead man in wish-
ing him good-bye. The packet, on its return, told us
that he was struck by Yellow Jack the next day, and
(lied the following evening, after a brief twenty-four
liours of intense suffering.

A month, and the scourge had passed. I was writing
in the afternoon, when suddenly along the verandah I
heard the cries of a cat mewing piteously. In another
instant a large white -and-gray Tom entered the room,
keeping up his cry with increased fervour, and looking
rt me with unabashed confidence, just as if I was an old
acquaintance. And so I was, for I recognised my visitor
as the doctor's favourite, who used to sit on the break-
tast-tablo between him and his wife. Now he was a
scarecrow, and mewing away at me for his very life, as
nuich as to say —

"Look at me, your old friend Tom, deserted by his

Haligonian.

friends — nothing to eat; isn't it shameful? Give us
something, for pity's sake."

I wondered at first, until I thought of his trials, that
the doctor had not found a home for him. Then I sent
out my black boy for a little milk, and breaking up some
bread into a saucer, put it before Tom. It did me good
to see the fellow eat it. Then up he jumped on the
table, looked at me steadily, as if to say, " You '11 do for
me ;" and, quite regardless of my ink and paper, set to
work to lick himself all over, which being accomplished
to his satisfaction, he curled up on my blotting-book for
a good nap. From that moment he never left the pre-
mises, and at the end of a week we were the best ot
friends.

However, at that period the health-officer of the port
paid me a morning visit, and no sooner did he spy Tom,
asleep, as usual, on the table, than he exclaimed, "Why,
there 's our cat : the doctor gave him to my little Lucy,
but he bolted two days after, and we 'vc never seen him
.since ; we thought he had gone back to his old quarters
and died."

I was in great hopes the little girl would not claim
him ; but in an hour a little black ncgrcss came running
in, crying —

" De missy him beg de buckra for her pussy." ^o poor
Tom was forcibly collared and carried off.

It was a week after this again, somewhere about the
middle of a scorching hot night, when I was tossing
about panting for cool air, half asleep and half awake,
that, all of a sudden, I was startled by a low noise near

I ■

Lost Amid the Fogs.

my pillow, and immediately felt something very soft and
very warm rubbing gently against my head. Just as I
was about to give a shout to startle the intruder, it
happily flashed across my mind that it was the cat, who
had found his way back ; and a cautious glance across
the dim light revealed this to be the fact. There ho
was behind my pillow, bending forward his great bull
head and purring to himself as he butted it upon mine.
" Here you are ; I 've found you again." Then he turned
his head the other side for another rub. " I 'm so glad
to see you ; say the same to me." So he rubbed and
purred away until tired. When quite satisfied with his
proceedings, he stepped gingerly down to my feet, curled
up, and fell asleep.

Flesh and blood were not proof against this, though
hitherto I had never felt any peculiar marks of affec-
tion for the pussy tribe. But it matters very little what
it is, whether a child, a dog, a cat, or any other pet ;
what the human heart demands for its love is confidence,
and confidence in itself soon begets love. Tom, this
strange cat, deserted by his old friends, by death also,
had shown extraordinary confidence in me, and I deter-
mined we should not part in future. So I made a doll-
bargain with the young lady, and soon rejoiced in un-
doubted ownership of the little animal. He accompanied
me to England and to twenty different quarters therein ;
and when we had to pay the penalty for Captain Wilkes'
bombast, my wife said, " Take Tom, and he will
amuse you on board." So he did ; forming an especial
friendship with the purser's steward, who vowed, with

Haligonian.

the execution lie performed on the rats, tliat he " earned
liis grub and worked his passage well, he did."

Thus it happened that, afraid to leave Tom in a
strange ship, where, unknown, he might be ill-used,
perhaps chucked overboard by the steward's assistants,
I brought him ashore to my friend's house, where the
cliildren gave the old fellow a most humorous wel-
come, feeding him up to the eyes, and pulling his ears
and tail in strict proportions to their hospitality. So we
were both of us well entertained, and went to sleep once
more on shore rejoicing.

The next morning the gale blew more furiously than
ever ; and when at ten o'clock my servant said the cap-
tain had come ashore and declared he was not going to
sea, we all prepared thankfully for another pleasant day
together. The misfortunes began by the children run-
ning in to say that Tom had gone outside to take a walk,
and spying a great hole in the ground had bolted down
it. We found that he had gone into an open drain in
search of game, and far away underground we heard
a faint, pitiful " miew," the only answer all the calling
and coaxing could elicit. The weather was bitteily
cold ; the thermometer below zero, and threatening to
snow hard.

" If the snow blocks up the mouth of the drain he'll
l)erish to-night," said my friend. " 1 '11 see if I can find
a man to dig him out."

The pickaxe was well into the ground, when right
behind us, from the middle of the harbour, the boom of
a gun caused us to turn round (juickly.

Lost Amid the Fogs.

" Why, it's from the Tuscaloosa! What does it mean ?
She has the Blue Peter flying."

"What! it's only an hour ago the captain sent to
say he was not going to sea, and it 's blowing harder
than ever."

The man plied the pickaxe into the frozen ground
well ; but, alas ! poor Tom was frightened with the
noise, and retreated into channels as we advanced, the
pitiful " miews " becoming fainter than before.

Bang went another gun from the Tuscaloosa. I
began to feel very uneasy.

" Oh ! " said my friend, " I '11 tell you what it is : it 's
a ruse to get her sailors off. I daresay they were on
leave last night, and are drunk about the town."

" It 's impossible he can be going to sea ; it's blowing
a hurricane dead against him." And again we set to
work on the release of the little prisoner.

It was beginning to snow, and threatening heavily
from the north-west. I encouraged the man with pro-
mises of reward, and well he worked for nearly half an
hour. We had almost forgotten the Tuscaloosa, when
the boom of a gun down the harbour made us turn
round again, and we saw the report proceeded from the
side of a frigate from which a signal fluttered as well.

"Look!" cried W—

-, " the Tuscaloosa 's answer-
ing ; and, halloa ! what 's this ? she 's got her steam up.
'Pon my soul I think she 's going to sea after all."

Could it be possible ? Heavens ! what should I do ?
Why should the captain send such a message ? Another
gun from her side, and the paddles took a few revolu-

Haligonian.

31)

tions forward to short-heave the anchor. , W dashed

to put to his horse, while I rushed for my carpet-bag and
desk. In ten minutes we were down on Cunard's wharf,
and thence saw the steamer slowly steaming down the
harbour.

Not a boat was to be seen ; and in a minute she could
barely be distinguished through the whirling, blinding
snow. I was horror-struck at the situation — men, bag-
gage, command, all gone away, off to Newfoundland, and
I left on shore here. I groaned loudly, and consigned
the captain freely to Gehenna.

" It 's not the captain's fault, I can assure you," said
a cheery voice behind. We, turning round, beheld the
pleasant face and goodly form of William Cunard,
omnipotent in all these matters in Halifax.

" Not the captain's fault ! " I exclaimed, in vehement
heat; " why, not two hours ago, he "

"I know," said the merchant-admiral. " I know all
about it. It was the frigate there, which came in about
two hours ago, did it. Her captain, who is an awful
Tartar, saw the Tuscaloosa lying there ready for sea,
and ordered her out at once. There was a tremendous
scramble on board ; and I suspect others are left behind
besides you."

"And are there no means of catching her? "

" I doubt if even you could have got off now," he
replied; "but I'll tell you what you do. She was to
go to Sydney in Cape Breton to coal for England. She'll
be a week coalinjr. The mail starts overland to-morrow

mornuig.

Take a place, and you '11 catch her there."

Lost Amid the Fogs.

A good straw, indeed, thrown out to a drowning man,
and gladly I clutched at it. There was only the proper
explanation to be given at headquarters, and obtain
leave to carry out my scheme. It was, of course, neces-
sary to express great regret at the misadventure, and
receive the general's reprimand. These matters officially
are always, and very properly, measured by their success
or results ; intentions or accidents not being taken into
account. However, all 's well that ends well. I made
a[)ologie8 and peace, obtaining leave to go overland to
Sydney and rejoin the Tuscaloosa.

Before reaching my destination I found the penance
to pay was amply sufficient. Nearly two hundred and
lif'ty miles in an open sleigh across the boundless tracks
of ice and snow, with a temperature far below zero !
Most travellers describe countries which they pass
through in the prime of summer ; and here I have an
opportunity of reversing the medal, and presenting the
bleak side to view. Bismallah! let us see it. Che
mra sara.

CHAPTER IV.

INTO THE BREAST OF WINTER.

[HE journey from Halifax across the length
of Nova Scotia really commences from the
little town of Truro, some sixty miles
from the capital, to which a rail winds
through a level country, round the head of the
noble harbour ; through pine-wood clearings, little
lakes dammed up ; past farms, sawmills, and the
solitary charcoal-burner's hut : all sparsely scattered
here and there, as signs of a country still but par-
tially occupied by man. These died gradually out as
we left Halifax, and commenced again on our approach
to Truro. The town itself appeared to be a collection
of wooden villas and cottages, of unpretending archi-
tecture, the abodes of well-to-do people, by whom the
blessings of religion, judging by the various spires
dotted among the houses, were by no means neglected.
There was a large open square at the end of the street,
with the little inn in the corner from which the mail-
cars started, and about which — best of all signs — not a
><ingle beggar gathered. Looking about, we saw the
sign of rural prosperity in this little township ; one day,

Wit

Lost Amid the Fogs.

perhaps not far distant, to become the more consider-
able market-town and emporium of the produce of the
great phiins which surround it. It needs but to look at
the well-featured, sturdy men, and well-dressed women,
who gather round the doors of the inn to hear the news
from Halifax, to speak with confidence of an approach-
ing time, in which, under their hands and the hands of
their children, this country shall rise in its own greatness,
a ch eck to the ambition of its overgrown neighbour. A
comely race, in truth, they were, pleasant to behold and
pleasant to hear, with a sj)eech unempoisoned jb^the
easy, ready-lying broguCj^ Brown hair and beards, blue
eyes, huge fists, and strong Yankee hatred, were the
leading tokens which a stranger rapidly gathered of this
people ;
and freedom.

This is all I noted in very truth. Can a man passing
rapidly through a township half-buried beneath the
white morsels of heaven, do much more while waiting
for the horses of the mail-car to be buckled to ? Less
than an hour sufficed to do this, when the driver invited
us to be seated on the sleigh ; an article about a foot oft'
the ground, looking much like a slice clipped off three
pews of a [modern Methodist church. Stout buffalo
robes covered the passengers well over the breasts ; th(;
luggage was strapped behind ; the driver, a cheery
young man, jumped up on a little flat perch on the
corner of the front pew, shook up the reins, cracked his
whip, woke the bells of the four horses into a merry
l)eal, and we dashed through the embryo square of

good signs — none better — of future strength

Into the Breast of Winter.

Truro, up a side street, across a bridge, and away into
the open country, guided by the rough picket fences
stuck along the snow. It was a capital start, and if we
could have kept it up, should quickly have covered forty
or fifty miles. But soon after we left the shelter of some
little pine woods a few miles out, the snow became very
thin upon the road, and the runners grated dismally ou
our ears. The driver was off and on to his perch like
a bird every five minutes, coaxing the poor brutes to
struggle against the tremendous friction of such a load.
At length Jehu pulled up.

" I 'm very sorry you must jump out, please, and walk
this bit. I 'm most afraid we shall have the same thing
all the way."

" It snowed hard yesterday," observed a passenger.

"So it did ; but there 's been a smartish wind all
night, and drove it all up against the fences. We shall
make but poor travelling of it if this goes on."

Go on it did all day, and long after nightfall ; but it
had this advantage, that it warmed the feet, which
otherwise had sad times of it. Twice we stopped at
f-ihanties along the road side, built by new settlers, as
the clearings from the forest close by appeared to indi-
cate. Perhaps they should be called small farms, and
not shanties ; for although things were in a rough-and-
ready sort of style inside and outside, still there were
three or four apartments to the house, and outhouses for
the cattle into the bargain. We found at each place
ready, roughly laid out, with very primitive cutlery,
steak, eggs, toast, tea, and potatoes. It would be hard

Lost Amid the Fogs.

to call the preparation breakfast, inasmuch as it was
furnished for lunch as well ; again for dinner, and again
for supper, without the minutest variation. But for all
that there were several little things worthy of notice.
The good woman, to my surprise, not only summoned
us to meals, but sat with bare arms fresh from the
stove at the head of the table, pouring out the tea, yet
receiving the first attentions from the toast and steak,
and sharing in all respects the repast with us. Though
but a rude farmer's wife, still she was our hostess, and a
lady then and there in her own undoubted right. The
same principle prevailed everywhere, as I found after-
wards, in these colonies ; and when the lady was young
and pretty, as happily was sometimes the case, the
custom was not amiss. At any rate, it never proved
unpleasant or inconvenient, and in its primitiveness was
entitled to respect.

The driver, too, took his meals with us at the end of
the table ; yet it was to be observed, when all the pas-
sengers took a " nip " just before re-entering the sleigh,
he invariably, though pressed, refused. "Don't ask him,"
said one good woman ; " they never touch : they are
sworn not to do it when on duty with the cars." To
make amends for this abstinence, good meals, at regular
distances during the day and night, are provided. It
is, no doubt, a wise precaution ; for the journey at this
season, as we shall soon see, is not without its dangers,
requiring a cool head and strong arm at sundry times ;
the more necessary for the safety of travellers almost
helpless themselves at such sudden moments of trial.

i--

Into the Breast of Winter.

Thus we sped through the bitter clay, crouching be-
neath the " buffaloes," jumping out to walk over the
" bare," and munching steaks with tea dilutions when-
ever we changed horses. Great slices of the country
were cleared for the farmer's use ; and the heads of the
picket fences projecting above the snow told us of fields
which, when awakened from their winter sleep, were
gay with green and gold and crimson, or bejewelled
with the fat kine, now cooped up in gloomy stalls, and
wearying for these joyous pastures. True, the features
of the country now were, as Elizabeth Barrett grandly

says —

" Looking equal in one snow ; "

but the undulating hills, falling and rising here and
there, spoke plainly of beauty when the winter shroud
was gone. Grandeur and sublimity of scenery there
was not ; yet, again, the little forests, thick witli hem-
lock, pine, and birch, tln-ough which the many spark-
ling rills, bursting through the matted copses, ran to
join the prouder stream of the deeper valley beyond,
sent back the thoughts into summer and autumn, with
pleasant visions of much loveliness. Easily could I
credit that it was a country in which the hard-working
man could live at ease and be happy.

So sped on the day : the clear sky, across which siffi-
lated the keen north wind, deepening gradually into
darkness. As the light fled, so grew the cold, and more
crisply each moment sounded the hot)fs of the cattle
upon the crystal road. We were yet many miles from
our first halting-place, when suddenly, on the crest of a

Lost Amid the Fogs.

hill, the driver pulled up and looked well cahead, lost
apparently for the minute in reflection. Before us, at
the bottom of a steep decline, lay a wide frozen streamlet,
across which a tressel-bridge, unguarded by side rails,
stretched its spidery arms. Like the road, the bridge
was a mass of glare ice, the polish of which, with the
mercury at_26° bcloNv zero, was as dangerous as it was
perfect.

" You must walk over this, if you please, gentlemen,"
said the driver ; " the bridge is too narrow, and a slue
might be dangerous."

Out we jumped, and no sooner out than down went
another passenger and myself on the ice, whence, in
spite of all our frantic struggles, it was impossible to
rise. There is no word in the language that I know of
to express the smoothness of glare ice at a very low
temperature. However, we stood the laugh at our mis-
fortunes from the others, who had sparrables in their
shoes, or creepers underneath.

"We'll help them over," they cried to the driver;
while he, gathering his reins short, and waking up the
nags, went smartly down the hill, over the bridge in a
canter, and was on the crest of the opposite side before
we could count ten.

" Now, then," said our Samaritan friends to us cripples
in the ditch, " lay on your backs, and give us your hands
and we '11 cross you over."

Bumping, sliding, laughing, just like a dead bullo^
I was dragged down in the wake of the car. As they
tramped over the planks, we could hear beneath the

;t'

the
in a
Ifore

blcs

ley
the

Into the Breast of Winter. 47

frozen surface the torrent roaring as it fretted across
the hidden rocks of its bed. Well they laughed at
IIS going down-hill, but groaned as they went up the
incline ;^ we, chuckling inwardly, now hoping they
enjoyed the dead pull of two hundred pounds up an
Jingle of thirty-five degrees. By the time we were all
up at the top, and they had propped us against the face
of the hedge, it was hard to say who had had the best
of it ; but the chorus of merriment broke the ice amontr
us effectually, and thawed us into capital friendship for
the rest of the day's journey.

This, at any rate, cannot be described further than
that, with the mantle of night overhead, and the mantle
of winter underfoot, blotting all nature entirely from
sight, at about ten o'clock we arrived at the little town
of New Glasgow, and pulled up before a small wooden
(luherge. On the principle of any port in a storm, the
stuffy little parlour was an agreeable change to travel-
lers more than half frozen in the strictest sense of the
word. Yet, when the driver came to tell us that the
roads were so bad, he would not go on until the morn-
ing, so uncomfortable was the prospect that I felt half
sorrow for his decision. The place was engrained in
dirt. It was not the fact of what is called " roughing
't " liich made the thing disagreeable. To that I had
well accustomed. But to foul air and filth, dust-
t. iS over the chairs, saharas in filth on the cornices,
piios of half-stupified flies, spiders' webs, and spittle in
all stages of evaporation, I entertain a mortal objection.
When was 1 -'o den purified, or the holey carpet swept,

Lost Amid the Fogs.

or the dirty table-cloth, which the maid sprawled over
the table, washed ? Maid ! it is a profanation to use
such a term connected with the brawny-armed slattern
who jumped about and slapped the things down as a
savage might have done. But the cause soon received
explanation. At a joke which passed between two of
the passengers, the creature paused in her work, and, to
my amazement, placing her arms against her hips,
l)ur8t into a hoarse laugh, which shook the very rafters
over our head.

" Oi, oi, oi, oi, be the blessed! but that's thrue for ye,
mister ; oi, oi, oi, oi ! "

The creature was Irish of the lowest type, and so was
the mistress, who soon after, with the steak and eggs,
toast, potatoes, and tea, came in to preside. The
house was Irish ; not that that is altogether as a necessity
a bad recommendation, yet it certamly is when it be-
longs to the less-refined class of that restless nation.
Worse luck, for the food too was dirty ; the forks inde-
scribable. Hot tea one was obliged to swallow ; then I
munched some biscuits, and asked the creature I had
irreverently called a maid " If I could have a bed ? "

" Oi '11 see," quoth she.

" And if so, could I have a fire ?"

"Is it a foirc?" quoth she, again; " begorra, it's
more tliJin oi know."

However, in half an hour she showed me up a narrow
stair into a room, which, to my unutterable disgust,
was so full of suffocating coal smoke that one could not
distinguish her figure when she was a yard inside the door.

Into the Breast of Winter.

" The divvil run away with the firephice," cried she ;
"it's the thrick it's .always behaving with me." One
way of accountin*^ for it certainly, considering that it
was a register stove, and w^hen she lighted the fire she
forgot to open the register in the chimney. They cer-
tainly are right in the Times when they say in the
advertisements, " No Irish need apply."

She slammed the poker up the chimney, and burst
the windows open, advising me to go back to the par-
lour for half an hour. This I did, and when I returned
and shut the windows down to keep out a temperature of
35° below zero, no pen could describe what the state of
that room was. It suffices to say, that the coarse sheets
and blankets upon the bed were frozen hard as boards,
and that the possibility of rest was gone. There was
nothing for it but to return a third time to the cob-
webbed parlour, roll my cloak well round, and lie down
alongside the stove till daybreak. This was nothing in
itself ; but with eight or nine snorers in a dirty den ten
feet square, it was something to be endured. Faugh 1

The cold at daybreak culminated to its highest point
during the journey. As the sun rose in the heavens,
cerulean and cloudless, we saw that we travelled through
a country bound under a mighty spell. Tiie streams no
longer ran ; the woodman's axe was silent in the woods ;
both kine and poultry in the farmer's yard had sought
the shelter of the stables ; and not a human being or a
sleigh did we meet for many consecutive hours. Dur-
ing the short continuance of what is called '*a cold
snap," every creature with warm blood in the veins, for

Lost Amid the Fogs.

dear life, seeks shelter. Happily there was no wind.
Had there been, it would have been impossible to travel.
This we felt whenever we lost the shelter of the pine
woods and the road wound to face the north, for then
the current of air caused by our motion seemed to con-
centrate the bitterness of the frost upon us. Coat,
hair, whiskers, moustaches, were all hung with icicles ;
80, crouching benccath the " buffaloes," we had naught to
do but to wish for the end of the day's journey, which,
to all appearance, was as likely to pass along as free
from adventure as it was miserable.

We were, however, early in the afternoon, rapidly and
sufficiently roused from our lethargy. The road wound
along the edge of a deep, thinly-wooded ravine, in
which, some two hundred feet below, we could see the
tops of the pines and birches fringed with drooping
feathers of snow ; on our left the high bank, the con-
tinuation of the side of the gorge, out of which the road
had been cut. Turning suddenly a corner, there lay
before us a carj^t of glare ice, caused by a little stream
which overflowed the road at this point. Necessarily
it sloped towards the ravine, and no sooner were we on
it than the sleigli gave a jerk to the right, then an-
other. The driver, seeing the danger, shouted to the
horses ; but, with a tremendous slue, the vehicle swung
round as on a pivot, and hung over the edge of the
brink. Bursting the " buffaloes," out juinjwd the front
passengers, but our wraps, tightly packed, would not
yield an inch. Horrible was it to liear the scraping
and yielding of the horses' hoofs, as the increasing

lay

)am

rily

an-

the

Ung

not
ling

Into the Breast of Winter.

.51

weight of the unsupported sleigh overpowered their
strength. It was but a moment of agony, shouting,
and suspense ; when over, over, over, yielding inch by
inch, backwards we slipped into— destruction ! No, as
it mercifully happened, we were caught, just as the
hind feet of the leader was at the edge, by a stout fir
tree, which, had we missed, we must have gone head-
long into eternity. A branch stretched within reach,
across which, in ten seconds, with bumping heart, and
blood suddenly revivified, I was sitting surveying the
wreck.

Sharp and quick as the cracking of his whip came
from the mouth of our driver orders on the crisis.

" Unbuckle the traces— stand to the heads of the
whafters — keep 'em down — run, if you please, straight
ahead, not half a mile — call the miller — bring ropes —
«it still in the sleigh — for God's sake, sit still — if she
moves off you 're gone."

In less time than it has taken to write it, the traces
were loosened, and the leaders released ; while the shaft
horses, happily bogged tight in snow and brushwood,
were also made powerless to struggle. Tlierc was a
little barrister from Sydney, now travelling homewards
who proved himself a trump at tiie moment of difH-
eulty, cutting in and out about the horses' heels with
the confidence of a Rarey. He now sat at the heads of
the shaft horses, and in reply to the pitiful entreaties of
the two passengers still in the sleigh, he said —

" Now, I tell you what it is, this ain't a joking mat-
ter; if you attempt to get out I'll let their heads up,

r)2

Lost Amid the For) ft.

i !

and you'll be in 'kingdom come' in less than five
minutes."

What an agreeable announcement to the poor devils,
hanging by their eyelids over an unfathomable preci-
pice for thirty minutes, which in this world they will
never forget. At the end of that time we heard the
joyful sound of approaching help, soon realised by the
presence of the miller and his three stout sons. With
ropes fastened round our waists, we were soon dragged
on to the road ; the traces were cut, the sleigh fastened
to the trees, and the horses released as well. Then
quickly were hauled up the boxes, and lastly the
vehicle itself, smashed well in behind, with shafts
cracked short as carrots, and the iron runners burst
below. Till now, not a word had passed between the
miller and the driver, but when all was safe on the
road, the latter, taking off his hat, and wiping a brow
over which rivers of perspiration flowed —

" Ah 1 the de'il mend ye, Jock — the deil mend ye ! "
cried he, shaking his brawny fist; "it's come at last,
and might hae cost us a' our lives. Is this yer promise,
which ye hae made fifty times, to cut the trees along the
edge ? The shame on ye, Jock — the shame on ye,
Jock!"

'* Now, Sandy, man, what's this ye' re saying?" replied
the miller, " talking thus, when ye or.ghten to be giving
praise that ye're off m v<M. Maybe I am to blame,
but the snap last night came on so sudden."

•' Sudden 1 " said Sandy, in a voice more mollified, for
thev were old friends.

<• ci

Into the Breast of Winter,

" No matter, Sandy ; we're all wrong sometimes :
let 's get the sleigh down to the mill, and we'll soon put
you to rights. Jamie, take the axe, and lop down three
or four of those trees, and lay 'era along the edge. I 'ni
very thankful it's no waur, Sandy, God be praised 1 "

And as Jack, the miller, lifted his hat in speaking,
the last words echoed in many of our hearts I believe,
though not spoken aloud. Sandy stretched out his
hand and grasped that of his friend. We soon heard
the roaring of the mill-stream at the end of the pine
wood, where lived and ground his corn this jolly and
sensible miller. His mill lay snugly in the middle of a
little hollow, through which wound a mountain stream,
now crystalled in its winter sleep ; while very picturesque
against the white hills stood the red-tiled roofs, the
brown old wheel and bridges. Gaily the miller peeled
his home-spmi coat, and called his sons about him,
bidding them light the forge, run out the anvil, blow
up the furiicice, and strike stalwart blows with him
upon our broken vehicle. In less than two hours the
runners are spliced, the baggage is repacked, and Sandy,
tlie driver, is yo-ho-ing his flock together.

" Weel, Jock," cried he, stretching his hand to the
miller, " I '11 no say but ye ha' dune us a gude turn,
for bye it was yoursel that "

" You'll just be saying naething about it this time ;
I'm glad to work, and wish it were better."

" Shall I no charge it, then, agen the maister, Jock ?''

"You'll just charge naething, Sandy ; and let us be
thankful my over-forget fulness came to no waur." So

vm V

r>4

Lost Amid the Fogs.

^^o(X

the brave miller lifted his hat, wishing us God-speed ;
and again the sleigh bells rang sharply through the
frosted air, until at ten o'clock they ceased for that day
before a clean little hostelry in the biggest street ot
Antigonish. There \vc took oiF our numberless wraps
in the parlour, to see the table spread with the everlast-
ing steak and potatoes, eggs, toast, and tea ; yet, mar-
vellous difference 1 neatness and cleanliness were visible
everywhere ; and when the hostess took her seat at the
tea-tray, one felt, from the tone and texture of her
fittire, that a good bedroom and night's rest was a pos-
sible persi)ective. Nor were we disappointed ; the less
80 when, after the sweet clean sheets hot from the kit-
chen-fire were spread upon +he bed, the tall Scotch
landlord, himself a pensioner and olim an officer's
servant, brought up great jugs of boiling water, a bath,
and abundance of towelling. The night thus passed in
the thriving little town, with the queer old Indian
name, must indeed be marked with a red letter in the
diary of an unwilling winter traveller in Nova Scotia.

CHAPTER V.

UNDER THE BUFFALO ROBES.

BnllLLINGLY could a traveller, weary and linlt-
i wra starved with cold, have indul<^ed in a lon.i;
snooze under that clean Scotch roof ; but an
early knock before daybreak summoned us
down to the discussion of " the inevitable steaks and
ej^gs, the toast, potatoes, and ten." A long journey was
before us ; the Gut of Canso was to be crossed before
night, recjuiring, at this season, a favourable opportunity.
Dismally sounded the bells as the sleigh hurried us
through the streets of the little town, still hushed in
sleep. Bitter was the cold as we lost the shelter of the
houses and breasted the hills ; on the opposite fall of
which, far, far away, lay the sister colony of Ca[)e Bre-
ton. Nothing to see but one eternal snow; nothing to
do but to shrink beneath the " buffaloes" as far as pos-
sible, and let fate do its worst.

However, we had a little diversion at noon, which
roused us up for a few minutes in a droll sort of way.
We had stopped for lunch at the little inn where the

Lost Amid the Fogs.

horses changed, and were seated round a rickety table,
discussing " the steak and eggs, the toast, potatoes, and
tea," when, without a shadow of warning, the man on
my left lifted his arms high above his head, gave a yell
which in any other temperature would have turned the
])iood cold, and, tumbling backward with his chair, lifted
tlie table reversely with his legs, of course upsetting the
concern with a stupendous crash. For the first instant
of astonishment little could bo heard save cries and
oaths, as the various parties were saturated with hot
liquids, grease, or milk ; then the little barrister, escap-
ing from a bath of gravy and onions, ran to the fallen
passenger, exclaiming—

" My ! the man has an epileptic fit."

So it was ; and dreadful was the struggle for escaiw
of the soul within — the foaming lips, the fixed staring
eyes, the life-rending convulsions — to behold. Poor
fellow ! he was quickly lifted to a sofa, neckcloth
loosened, ice rubbed on his face, hands chafed, and salts
applied to the nostrils, until he gradually acquired a
kind of half consciousness, in which state he was lifted
again into the sleigh, and prop[)ed with coats as best wo
could under the *' buffaloes." Then the little barrister
whispered that he was a Scotch engineer, travelling
down with another of our party to pump water out of
the Sydney mines ; that, on arrival at Halifax, he had
ran loose for a week or so, going to bed "mellow" by
night ; and now, during the journey, refreshing by a
solid " nip" whenever the sleigh stopped. This I had
observed, but seeing it had no effect on him, thought

Under the Buffalo Roles.

nothing of it. But Nature will not be denied altogether.
Had he got drunk daily all would have been compara-
tively well with him ; but his constitution acted difler-
ently. The fiery spirit heated the blood to fever-point
within, and the bitter cold condensed it from without.
There was no safety-valve left : so the fire, flying to the
brain at last, overturned the cauldron of its wrath upon
the most vital point.

Still we travelled on, over the crest of hills where be-
yond on the horizon lay the broad St Lawrence. As we
wound down lower and lower we could see nothing of
the bright blue waters of the gulf ; but far as the eye
could range it was white with ice, and diftering only
from the land in the angular form of the great blocks
l)iled along the margin.

Down, lower and lower, from the heights of the hills,
tlnough gaps wherein the track ran round in great cir-
cular coils towards a distant village ; crack went the
driver's whip, crack, crack ; and very busy were the
bells as wo rattled down the slope. The little barrister
was turning anxious glances towards the west, wliere a
great bank of indigo was darkly looming. " Surely,"
said he at length to the driver, " it 's not so cold as it
was."

"No, sir; but I hope we shall cross the Gut before
tliat snow-storm breaks on us."

The boatmen, standing at the entrance of the shanty
at the foot of the hill, shook their heads as we jumped
I'rom the car. The Gut was full of floating ice, passing
rapidly through ; and no boat was safe in crossing the

Lost Amid the Fofjfi.

narrow stream which, passing through a cleft in the
liills about a mile in breadth, divides Nova Scotia from
Cape Breton. We followed the driver to where the
margin of the water should have been, and certainly
the prospect was not inviting. On either side, fringing
the land for the Avidth of quarter of a mile, the ice was
blocked solidly ; while between the shores, in the open
water, we could see the great blocks sweeping down the
channel. A boat nipped between them, or even struck,
would be cracked like a walnut ; and, as a warning,
standing sharp against the white hills oi)posite, were
the tall masts of a ship, wrecked in a snow-storm two
days previously. " No," said the driver, " it ain't to be
done ; we must bide the slack of the tide."

Slowly and sadly we turned to wait two weary hours
in the shanty, where, save the excitement of drinking
bad spirits and water, there was nothing to be done. An
hour must have slipped away, during which the noisy
voices had sunk into torpidity, when, happening to kick
a bit of old newsi)aper with my foot, I picked it up as a
godsend. It proved to be part of a fresh American
journal, and, among other items, contained an account
of the death and burial of the Prince Consort. There
were extracts from the English papers in great variety.
Just as we left England, many articles in the magazines,
from gifted pens, had touched the fame and virtues of
the wise and prudent prince not unworthily ; yet I did
not remember having seen anything which surpassed in
beauty the thoughts in the ragged scrap of the Yan-
kee paper on the floor of the boatmen's hut at Canso.

Under the Buffalo Ilobcft.

r>:)

It may be some in England would like tliem as well,
so here they are: —

" THREE LITTLE WREATHS.

" When the royalty of England was engaged in tlio
solenm duty of burying the dead of the palace, a few
weeks ago, among the ceremonials which fittingly at-
tended the entombing of a prince, nothing was so touch-
ing, nothing so profoundly suggestive, as the laying of
those three wreaths of moss and violets on his colHn —
the simi»le token of a daughter's love. It has been re-
marked among thoughtful persons that, in the numerous
accounts we have had of the last hours of Prince Albert,
nothing has been said of any religious ceremonies ; nor
is it known whether the earthly prince was reminded, or
was iible to be reminded, of the fact that he was about
entering a presence where the forms of earthly courts
do not exist, and where the garments to be worn are
neither of the purple of human royalty nor of the pattern
of human approval. It would have been well to say of
him that he died in the Christian faith, .and to leave on
record, in connexion with his last hours on earth, i-onie-
thing wliereby we might gather how the English nation
regard the death of a prince in his descent to the level
of human nature. But, from aught that appears, no
one seems to have thought of him as anvthing but a
dead prince, to bo embalmed and buried with the royal
dead of England.

" No one except those children, who, in the presence
of the grim monarch, forgot their own line, its preroga-

f;u

Lost Amid the Fogs.

tives nnd power, while they hiid on tlie coffin of their
father the token of undying love, the emblems of reHur-
lection and reunion hereafter.

" It is the smallest but most meaning ineident in the
funeral story. A thousand years hence it may be that
:;oTne explorer will be searching among the ruins of
Windsor for relics of the ancient days. Should he find
that vault, where the kings and their children lie, he
will wonder at the splendour of the gilded coffins, at the
trappings which adorn the solemn repose of the dead ;
but if he should, by chance, find on the coffin of Albert
some wreathed moss, some petals of dead violets, they
will create in his breast more tender emotions, they will
carry him back with more of the sense of common blood
and common destiny to the long j)ast years, than any
carved stones or monumented brasses. It is in the affec-
tions, as in ' the conmion lot' of men, that princes and
beggars are equal.

" There is something interesting in the fact that, in
all ages, and almost all countries, flowers have been
strewn over the dead and laid on their graves, as tokens
of love that reaches through the darkness. We remem-
ber to have seen an Egyptian mummy's case opened, in
which lay the embalmed body of a priestess or princess
of early days. How many thousand years her body had
reposed in the Theban mountain, undisturbed by the
fall of empires or the crushing chariot-wheel of time,
no one could tell with accuracy. Doubtless she lived
before the Parthenon was founded, before Rome was.
The monuments of human greatness had been created

Under the Buffalo liohfM.

I>1

and had crumblod, the memorials of kings and warriors
liad been decreed by senates, carved by sculptors, ad-
mired by generations of men, and had gone to dust
under those chariot-wheels, wliile the repose of the Egyp-
tian girl remained calm ; and when it was at length
broken, we found around her head a wreath of braided
leaves and blossoms, unbroken even in their delicate
tendrils. Thus, a token of affection, a simple weaving
into a wreath of these memorials of human love, had
outlasted the most elaborate work of man in honour of
his dead heroes. So the love they typify outlasts all
earthly measurement of duration.

" It will hardly be that those wreaths will long con-
tinue in the atmosphere of an English burial-chamber.
But they speak of a love that overlooks the changes of
time — that reaches beyond the confines of life. The
prince who has now been laid there had many qualities
that endeared him to those who best knew him, and is
.mourned by a widow who finds little consolation in her
royalty, and by children who find a mournful pleasure
in gathering moss and violets at Osborne, to make
wreaths for his coffin."

"Now then, gentlemen, if you please, we'll make a
try," said the driver, putting his head into the door oi
the hovel ; " sharj), please : just an hour before dark."

Following his lead, a few minutes brought us to tlio
land edge of the ice, usually the shore of the sea. The
hills loomed high on either side of the narrow channel,
their summits black with snow clouds. " Come on,"

Lost Amid the Fogs.

cried the driver, as he looked at the ominous sign,
" Come on quick, gentlemen !" and so saying, he dashed
among the ice-houlders, which lay for three hundred yards
hetwcen us and the water. It was all very well to cry
" come on," but to us with smooth shoes it was next to
imi)0S8ible. If any one who reads this will upset a basin
of lump sugar upon the table, and watch the struggles
of two half-drowned flies upon it, they might then better
understand our miserable plight. With terrible tumbles
which hurt seriously, with rolls along the smoothest
blocks, and bolder creeping over the rougher, we
mcnaged at length to reach the boat at the edge of the
ice, which pushed off instantly into the channel. There
was little need to row, for the tide sot us rapidly down,
and steering alone would bring us diagonally to the
opposite shore. The grand thing w»8 to avoid, with
the boat-hooks, the great blocks whirling round past
us, so placid in appearance, but a squeeze from which
would have sunk us instantly. It was not a })leasant
position, for the chop sea lopped us up and do»vn de-
ridingly, and the snow falling thickly seemed to close a
sort of doom upon our frail cockle-shell of a bark. It
came to its crisis when a cry of agony from the little
barrister, at a heavy lurch, grated on the nerves like
the sluup risp of a file.

"Oh! my G— 1 Oh! my G— ! "

He was grasping the seat with clenched hands, as
jiale as death, and with chattering teeth. It was hor-
rible to hear him shriek, for at the next lurch he cried

ogain-

Under the Buffalo Robes.

"Oh! snve me, save me! — We are drowned ! — My
(J — I save me, sjive me ! "

We tried to soothe him — him who liad been so smart,
jiiid liad shown such presence of mind in difficulties on
shore. The boatmen shouted roughly to hira to be
(|uiot. But he cried the more helplessly, for his nerves
were quite unstrung at being thus suddenly thrust upon
a new danger out of hip own element.

" Save me, mv G — ! — save me ! " until the echo
uf the hideous yell was mockingly sent back by tlie side
of the hill we were rapidly approaching ; and, in a few
minutes after, with thankful hearts we jumped upon
the oi)posite blocks of ice, and scrambled bruisingly
over them to dry land.

There we were very soon in a pretty fix. " Follow
the track up the hill for about half a mile and you 11
lind the inn," cried the driver. " Come on," said the
little barrister, all cock-a-lioop again, " or the snow
will shut out the road." We hardly thought who fol-
lowed us, but at a turn of the road I saw that the only
creature near us was the drunken engineer. At that
very moment, without an instant's notice, this wretclied
man fell backwards in the soft snow with a terrible
yell, struggling and foaming worse than in the morning.
Of course v o flew to his assistance ; and for half an
hour laboured to bring hiiu back, but only to a state of
unparalleled violence. Wi.'i the greatest dilliciilty we
kept him down, and avoided the blows which he struck
about him. It was a serious business ; darkness hail
fullcL upon us, and tiie snow upon the tracks oblitf.rat-

f;4

Lost Amid the Foffs.

ing all traces of the road. Neither of us, in the con-
fusion, could tell again even the direction to go in.
We shouted ; there was no answer ; and the pleasant
conviction of being soon buried and frozen in the snow-
Ktorm began to loom strongly in the present.

" Shall I try to find the inn," said uiy companion,
" and bring assistance ? "

" Impossible ! Even if you could do it, you might
never find us again."

" Shout ! for heaven's sake, shout I "

We shouted to crack our hmgs, but not even an echo
rei)lied. Another half hour passed, the most anxious
thirty minutes of ray life, when, in the distance, the
bells of a sleigh faintly tingled. How we shouted needs
no telling; and at length, joy unspeakable ! we heard
a faint response. It was a woodman's sleigh ; and very
nmch astonished was the man to find uk We had still
heavy work to do. The poor brute, who was nearly
frozen on the snow, refused to move, and struck wildly
at us when we tried to lift him. We made some great
ellorts, ajid several times had nearly reached the sleigh,
when he broke away, and threw himself headlong down
again. Tlie man ])roposed to drive on and get mon*
assisti'.nce, but we besought him not to go, on account
of the heavy drift ra])idly increasing. What was to b<'
done ? It was imixwHible to abandon a fellow-creature,
but yet our own lives were in risk.

" V-'e nuist -^tun him," I .-^aid, at length, "to save
ourselves; wjl' ' nt !•*" and I drew out the heavy
wooden hand-guar-l ol llie -kiuli, ready to strike.

Under fhr Bi'Jfif^o liohrs!.

n:.

The woodman said " yos," but tlie barrister would not.

" D iin ! " cried tlie tornier, " I '11 choke un." It

was }v biif^iit idea, th()U<^h less merciful than mine.

We dashed at him a;;ain, and in spite of his kicks
and bites the woodman secured a bhick silk handker-
cliief round his throat. A Thu^^;.,nsh twist of his finfrers,
and the wretched man j^radually fi'll back insensible.
To loosen the jj^rip, place him flat upon the boards of
llie sleigh, and throw ourselvis on him to keep him
down, was the work of an instant. The driver spruiiii;
up, and lashed his horses. The strui^^i^ies ol" tiie poor
fellow to «j:et away were dreadful, but we kept him
d(,v;n for the five minutes we had to rim. At the end
(■>{' that time we reached the inn-door exhausted, torn,
and !)i*uised. We had saved the life of the miserable
man, and that was one consolation. Vet what u life
to save. It was as sad a si«;ht as needs be ; the }»oor
wretch, with his purple face, trenddinj; hands, and
foam-droppinj; lips, all crouched in the kitchen chirruiey
the whole evenin;.;, eagerly watchini^ the chance of a
dram, which it was a mercy to nivo him. We i>ro-
Icst.ed aj^ainst his company any further, as far too
dan,i;vrotis

IJoots it little, indeed, fiom tiiis poitit to till tlu'
adventures of the next thr(,e davs throuj-h tlu' wide
while wastes of Cape Hreton. How we cnaiched miser-
ably beneath the butfaloes, peepini; out only in the
>lieller of tlie wootls, where birch, and beech, and pine,
iind hemlock, bowed their snow-ladi'n bvanclu's moiun-

fully as we passed. Or how, at nigh*, we lod^xed a few

Mn^

6(;

Lost Amid the Fog/t.

brief dark hours at shanties, whore civility invariably
atoned for luxuries ; and, as usual, the eternal steak,
and toast, and potatoes, and tea, and eggs, were dis-
pensed to us under the immediate aus])ices of the
pleasant landlady. Did I say civility? It was more
than that ; it amounted always to kindness. On one
occasion, at a poor place in a little valley on the borders
of the great lake oi" the Bras d'Or, where we stoj)ped
for dinner, in s{)ite of the keep air, my limit to the
maceration of tough steak, after thirty meals of that
ilk, had arrived. This the good woman saw, and, beck-
oning to her husband, said, " Jamie, gae doun and
crack the ice a wee bit in the burnie ; and see, man,
if ye canna pu' out a pair o' trout," As luck would
have it. in half an hour he returned with three splendid
fish, not one of them less than three-cpiarters of a pound.
Not long was it before, s[)lit and fried, their deepsaftVon
flosh lay invitingly before us. This was, indeed, to eat
the fresh-water pr{>duce in j)erfection ; and, if only on
account of the welcome change, tliose golden mountain
trout are to be remembered as some of the most delicious
morsels that ever crossed the li[)8 of a now very weary
anxious traveller.

Weary, yes; yet anxious still more: and the raore
yet, as we traverse the miles towards the end of the jour-
ney, whether I should catch the steamer at Sydney after
all, or (horrible to think of) have to make this useless
joirney back again to Halifax. I told this to the little
barrister, when, to my joy and suipiise, he repli-d —

" Do you know. I think you could lind out all about

Under the Buffalo Rohes.

it soon. There is, I remember, a telegraph station close
by, and you can ask the question."

We were then not far from St Peter's Bay, with the
shores of the Bras d'Or Lake on the other hand ; and
in less than half an hour, in a little clearing close by
the edge of a pine wood, we came to a solitary hut.
Kntering, we saw a well-favoured woman, busy at some
needlework ; a table with a couple of telegraphic ham-
mers, a clock, some writing materijils, and a fire, where
a i)ot was, no doubt, cooking a little humble food.

" Can we send a message to HyJncy ? "

" Certainly," she replied ; " y.ill you writ? it there. "

She took the paper and read my earnest icquest to
the captain of the ship not to sail till the next evening ;
and to my surprise, turning round, said —

" You need not be at the trouble to Si.'nd this ; the
Tuscaloosa \s\\\ not have finished coaling till to-morrow
night, and will sail the next day for Newfoundland."

"Are you sure?" said 1, with a heart leapmg to-
wards the good news. " How could you know it ? "

" I knew It, because the captain telegraphed this
morning to the senior naval ( llicei' at Halifax, to tell
him so. This is a check station on the line, and as I
sit at work I listen to the click, click of the needle,
and understand all it says."

Marvellous power and advance of science, never be-
fore to me more forcibly illustrated. Here was u
woman at needlework, in a hovel in the backwoods,
understanding, by a noise which might be mistaken

. the Kcratchiiig of a mouse in the cupboard, the

Lost A mid the Forfn.

thoughts of men distant hundreds of miles from each
other. Tlic medium of writing, and therefore of sight,
cast utterly on one side, and that of the ear alone
emi^loyed. Will the power of man over the material
world ever go beyond this, annihilating distance hy
touch, feeling, sympathy, taste ? Who would now dare
to say no ?

It was the evening of the next day that my hopes
were realised, hy seeing across the frozen harbour of
Sydney the double funnels of the I'uscnloo.sn cutting
sharp against the sky. It was a long drive round the
frozen harbour, some fifteen miles, I think; the weather
was again bitterly cold, and when the sleigh stopped at
the wharf, we were so benumbed as to be scarcely
capable of motion, A woman was standing close at
the door of a decent cottage, and ran otit to ask us in.
jiless her Samaritan heart! she was not satisficul bv
setting us by the blazing fire, but couiocted hot ginger-
tea forthwith, for our great rejoicing and comfort.
"W" . 1 that I had remembered her name, that I might
the ' . tter have reeord(>tl ji' r kindness, even though it
be but another sample of that benevolence which among
a siniplo pastoral people had followed us throughout
the long journey, over the houndless wastes of their
winter-bound and otherwise inhospitable land.

Yet I saw it afterwards, when its wintry mantl(> hail
fallen, and its full bosom, turned lovinglv to the sun,
had revived under ti:(> light and warmth of the great
comforter of nature. Tiie tendtM' tops of the ])ines
rivalled then the euieruhl of Ind; the cattle wandered

Under the hujfalo Robes.

C'J

over meadows lialf j,'recn, half «;(»l(k'n ; the hlossoius of
the plum and cherry, as they fell thickly, deceived the
eye with the threat of a mimic winter ; while above
them blushed triumphant a thousand apple orchards,
to restore a belief in the reality of approaching summer.
It was hard to believe this very Sydney the same i)lace,
seen now beneath a leaden sky and shrinking cold, and
then bathed in floods of light and colours manifold. It
was, indeed, to share the beautiful with Nature itself to
stand ui)on the crest of the rise beyond the little coal-
earrying, shii)building town, and watch the road, fringed
with copses and woods, dotted with cottages, wind
round the blue harbour stretching far into the distance
landwards, a sapphire set with a girdle of ciiuuimon
siones. Across the harbour opi)osite there are farms
and cottages, a church or two, and little woods where
haply partridges still bide ; while on a little spit of
sand running shallow into the sea, a Hock of curlews
are very busy, })r(>bably with fish spavvn, for the seas
about, we are told, are actually alive with cod, her-
ring, and mackerel. There are white sails sjHinkled
on the main, a boat with lla})i)ing canvas stranded on
the end of th<' yellow si)it, and the blue smoke of tlie
tlistant town of Sydi.ey ]»roi)er curling over a woody
hill, jierha])s an island. It is just a bit of water-colour a
sketeliir would love to work in. Ay, more, it appears
a wiindrous place for a poor man to settle in. True,
new it is little more than a village, but with such a
harbour, climate, and fisheries ; with such enormous
resources in coul, to sav nothing uf other minerals, what

\''

Lost Amid the Fogs.

will land bo worth here one day, when the world in-
creasing makes greater demands upon its wealth ?

But we must close this pleasant little slide of sum-
mer sunshine, and turn back the revolving disc for a
space to the dreary winter. Comforted by the ginger-
tea, I struggled on board the Tuscaloosa, thankful,
indeed, that the misadventure had so happily ended.
Two mornings afterwards I came on deck early to catch
the first glimpses of our new home. We were within
three miles of the coast, and the captain, with a power-
ful pair of glasses, was searching along an iron ridge of
bleak lofty cliffs for the narrow entrance to ti.e port of
St John's. As we approached, the white-capped margin
rose more boldly from the sea, to the height of some
six hundred feet, and whore it touched the highest, a
little flag, bright with the rays of the morning red, in-
dicated that we were already seen. It was a signal also
for us to steer on, for no break in that great black wall
was visible until we were close in-shore, right abreast of
the opening. Then, indeed, they parted for a hundred
yards or so, to reveal a narrow passage, guarded by
bristling batteries. Very slowly we steamed through
the dark jmrtals, looking up with wonder at the lofty
crags almost perpend icuhir over the decks. Beyond the
innermost neck, the passage expanded into an open
basin, landlocked, hill-surrounded, and entirely hid
from the sea. This was the harbour of St John's,
along the edge of which, facing the entrance, were built
its fishing wharves, and beyond, upon the rising hill,
the fishing city itself Crash through the layers of

I - !

Under the Du£ato Rohes.

ice encrusting the still waters of the basin, and wiiicli
formed instantly again behind the wake of the great
sliip, went the ponderous anchor to the bottom ; and a
wild cheer from the soldiers forward announced tlu;
journey ended.

CilAITKR VI.

•mi: FIRST I. II' IS OF riii: fch;— Tin-; iiomm

KFSlUkFI).

scape.

For tlio iiiatlor of lite, aclivitv, or l)nsincss,

ihore Wiis a man, apiKirt'iitly a boalinaii, on an opposite
wharf strappinj^' his hands across his slionklers to keep
himself from absohite petrifaction; and (h)\vn away
wliere the smoke hnnyr thickest beneath tlie hill, the

First L Iflfi of the Fofj — Home licstorcd.

ear could jiiKt catcli the 1mm of human traffic and
daily exiHtenco. " Wish you joy of the prospect,"
snarled the caj)tain, with a fibrin, as he dived shiveriii*^
heneath the hatch. It was as nuich as one could do
n(tt to send a nam«'less word or two after him.

A |)iercin<^ly cold day, without life and hustle to
keep the hlood warm, and the hraln from stai^niation.
what a misery it is! Here we wen; at the end of uiu"
voya<,'e, within two hundred yards <»f the shore, yet
iictually at a dead lock how to <j;et there. No boat
coidd cut through the ice, and the pilot said he douhted
it it were (juite safe t(> walk on; at any rate, thdui^li
close to his own smiir house, he did not iro home in

/hat h

that fashion, which was a i)retty <^ood proof ol wiial
thought about It. The sailors forward paced to and
fro, silent and moody, or shuflled about with the ends
of stillened ropes, which refused the best skill (»f the
(■oiler. They were all asleep on shore; we were all
sulky on board, cold, and miserable. Then' was n(jthiii,u;
to be seen but the white hills, the Hat harbour, and the
hazy sun : that was the position for four wretclied hours,
each niimite of which some one cried through his chat-
tering teeth, " Kn<.:;h ! it freezes liarder and harder."

I'p and alive a<^ain ! I'or all miseries end at last.
• lust as the mid-day gun was lired from the battery
on the high dill's above the entrance, a snort ol'detiance
issued from the pijtes of a little saucy steamer amid the
wharves and masts a quarter of a mile down the har-
boiir; and inch by inch we saw her emerging from the
confusion of ships and spars, to force her way into the

■.%.

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'--^

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

1^ 21
IIP 2

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li itf

11.25 1

1^ 1

1.4

11=
1.6

Photographic

Sciences
Corporation

€S

^ #;

Ci^

ru^

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, NY. HS80

(716) 872-4503

►>

Lost Amid the Fogs.

open. Before her iron-sheathed bows the brittle ice
cracked and sprung up into sparkling splinters ; and
when, after backing and charging here and there, she
turned fairly towards the Tuscaloosa, it was pretty
clear that our deliverance was assured. All hands
came crowding up the hatches ; the cheery bugle
sounded the "fall in;" the captain ceased to growl;
while, in tlie bustle of hoisting up the baggage, the
thermometer fell, fell, fell, down to zero, and far beyond,
yet no one noticed it any longer.

Yet at first we found the exchange from the black,
greasy deck of the steamer, to the white, slippery sur-
face of terra Jirma, but a poor one after all. Great
was the amusement of the big-limbed loafers and apple-
cheeked damsels collected round the Queen's wharf, to
see the new soldiers come ashore, when in succession
each made a jump from the paddle-box, to slip, slide,
stagger, and then come *' heels up" helpless on the
ground. But it was all good humour and fun, with
many a hand held out to set the amazed tumblers on
their legs again. It was up and down, down and up,
groans from the fallen, shouts from the rabble, all the
way up the hill that quarter of a mile to the barracks.
Not a very cheery prospect even there, — if we except
deal tables and iron bedsteads, those bare empty rooms,
looking with(3ut fires, oh ! so dreary and comfortless !
The iron-bound visage of the stiff, grim barrack-ser-
jeant, redolent of defects and damages, with his pencil
and note-book, is not a refreshing sight at best of
times ; least of all when men are in a hurry to light

First Lifts of the Fog — Home Restored. 75

3ss!

; of

their fires and make their beds. To examine nail
holes, or Queen's cracks in the windows then, was
quite beyond the patience of a man who had no sensa-
tion left either in feet or hands ; so telling that worthy
functionary I would trust all things to his honour, I
dragged him to Icok up my own abiding place, where
a visi'-n of tea and snugness already floated up as a
mirage of comfort again.

Whew ! what a change ! the wind, long threatening
by its sullen moans, as the sun declined, had risen in
its wrath, bearing along in furious gusts volumes of
blinding snow. It was really no fancy to suppose the
white spilikins were striving in vain to escape from the
torment of the pitiless pursuer ; now in corners against
walls or buttresses ; now lying humbly on the ground,
or concealed beneath the bushes ; now flattened against
doors or windows beseeching shelter ; now hiding in
holes or gutters, in comforters or pockets of travellers,
or in any possible chink that could be found. No, no ;
rest for such a handy plaything to the fierce voyager
from the vast barrens of the North-West there was
none. Dashed here and there, and everywhere about ;
heaped up for one second in gigantic cones, and scat-
tered the next broadcast for roods around ; tossed and
whirred and hunted ; what a game it was to look at :
but mind, to look at under shelter, behind double
windows of a snug room or of a warm conservatory ;
but no fun to watch it now, and quite enough to do to
follow the Serjeant's back, as he tacked across the open
square.

Lost Amid the Fogs.

At length (I was nearly blind, and only knew by it
stumbling on him,) he prised himself against a door in
a wall, and forced it open with a grunt ; when, across
somewhere else, up a couple of steps, into a dark pass-
age groping, and a sharp turn to the right, brought us
to the desired haven. Haven ! home ! it makes me
smile now when I think of the desolation of the picture
as it was then. A large dome-like chamber, with a
vaulted ceiling, dimly lighted by a ration candle, upon
whose miserable combustion the breezes, entering freely
by many holes and chinks, were playing the same
riotous game as outside. My servant, who was tugging
at the frozen cords of a valise, looked up, just as if to say,
" I wonder what the master '11 think of this ?" I dare
say he might have hazarded the remark, had not a huge
pufF of black smoke curled out oi the fireplace, and
effectually cut short his sympathy.

" I can't make head nor tail of this here stove, sir ;
it's awful."

It was, as we afterwards learnt, one of those charming
Yankee contrivances for giving heat at the expense of
every other comfort, called a " Franklin," very common
in former days in the western hemisphere. Projecting
a long way into the room by a connecting pipe to the
flue, the heat by it circulated through the apartment
was not to be doubted ; but the smell of the sulphur
and heated iron, together with the everlasting watch
required, we soon found to be quite beyond endurance.
When the blower was off, out went the fire in ten
minutes. En revanche with the blower on, the roar of

First Lifts of the Fog — Home Restored. 77

the furnace inside exhausted our fuel at a terrible
rate.

I thought my servant a fool at first, and set to work to
manage the concern myself ; but as soon as I had used
up a day's allowance of coal in less than an hour, and
made myself as black as a parboiled nigger, I acknow-
ledged (to myself) that we were both sailing in the
same boat.

At last he went to his tea in the barrack-room, and I
sat down in the dark vault to watch the stove. Amid
so much discomfort this was something to do at any
rate ; and further, while perplexed at the concern, I
popped the blower on and off with alternate fits of
freezing and thawing ; with the mutton fat in my hand
I sought out all the principal chinks aroimd the room,
and plugged out the snow and wind with dirty linen
and paper. There was comfort too in the thought of
the man returning with tea, — and in speculation as to
the materials he could raise in such a wilderness for so
civilised a meal ; and I reflected how best I should
manage to toast a sausage or a herring, my ideas as to
the resources of the land being by no means exalted.
Then I dragged the bed close to the stove, and, crouch-
ing close down, consoled myself with the thoughts that
oven this was a palace to a tent in the Arctic regions,
in which, perhaps, many a better man was perishing at
the moment. Then I wondered how the other fellows
were rubbing on, and whether the winter was all like
this in Newfoundland, and how many people were
snowed up and starved annually. Then came softer

if-

\ i

K . ..r.

Lost Amid the Fogs.

thoughts of home, and — and — I suppose, at last, I
must have dropped asleep.

At any rate, I only remember my name suddenly
called out, and a stamping of heavy feet at the door,
I could barely distinguish tlrem ; a huge mass, like half
a dozen Newfoundland dogs rolled into one, shaking
clouds of snow from its exterior. Beneath an otter-
skin cap shone a pair of bright eyes enveloped in a
mass of whiskers and beard, profusely sprinkled with
sleet and snow.

" H'm !" said the figure, advancing ; " how are you ?
don't you know me?"

The voice struck across the memory as that of an
old friend, though its echo was but faint at first.

" Eh ! don't you remember Wolfe at ' The Shop f ' I
re jaember you very well. I comm. nd the Incidentals
here now. I missed you on landing, and only just
found out where you were."

Remember him ! of course^ I did. Fellows who were
cadets at " The Shop" never forget each other. But
considering that Wolfe then was a thin slip of a smooth-
faced youngster, it was hardly to be wondered that a
recognition of this matured Polar bear, under the in-
fluence of a solitary government dip, did not imme-
diately ensue.

But a leap of twenty years is nothing to old school-
fellows. In less than ten minutes Wolfe knew the out-
line of my history since we parted, and I knew his.
By this time the blower, which I had taken off to do
due honour to his presence, required replacing. The

First Lifts of the Fog -Home Restored. 79

flame of the candle flew at right-angles to the zenith,
and the flap of the ragged paper on the walls reminded
one of linen hung out to dry.

" H'm ! " said my friend, " these quarters are not in
very good order, I see."

" Confound you ! " thought I to myself; " and whose
fault is that ? "

" It 's the same all through the place," he continued,
deprecating any remark ; " I should be most happy to
repair, but the money 's the thing. They — will — not —
give — the — money."

" Then why do they send us to do duty abroad ? "

"Ah! that's not my business. But all I know is,
of late years they have screwed and tightened things
down in the Colonies to the very last turn. They seem
to think new barracks will never be wanted. We have
been ' patching up ' and ' rubbing on ' here for sixty
years ; and I should never be surprised to get an order
cutting us down still lower. The fact is, they are afraid
to ask Parliament for money for the Colonies."

" Am I to live here in this state then — this dog-
hole?"

" H'm ! well, no ; not exactly. I '11 see what money
is left in the estimate — precious little I know. How-
ever, come over to my den, and dine with me, and we '11
talk over that another time."

Leaving a line in pencil for my servant, and reck-
lessly throwing on half a day's coal, we groped our
way through the passage into the open air. Heads
down, ram-fashion, we butted against the storm, — I

Lost Amid the Fogs.

following his figure, dimly seen through the chilling
drift. His garden gate, ahout three hundred yards
away, we reached sadly out of breath in about twenty
minutes, and then expended several more in forcing it
back against the fast-increasing pile of snow, happily
still soft and yielding. The gale, too, fought stoutly
at his house-door, and fain would enter with us. That
last victory secured, the inner door opened on a bright
vision ot, to me, a well-frozen voyager. Paradise re-
gained.

A pleasant, roomy hall, brightly lighted, with a stair-
case running spirally round one side to meet a gallery
above, along which, and up and down the stairs, little
children were chasing each other, with merry laughter.
White muslin dresses, bare necks, and hyacinths in
blossom, with such an atmosphere outside ! — it was
truly bewildering ; when, to crown it all, just then a
vision passed oi an Anglo-Saxon, golden-haired lassie,
with the neatest little cap, and cherry-ribbons to match,
who tripped across the hall with a tray, and completed
a picture which said plainly to the heart — " English
home ! English home ! "

A rapid whisking with a rush brush, scattering the
layers of snow and sleet, made us presentable in the
fragrant room to which Cherry-ribbons pointed. I had
fancied myself pretty well cognisant of barracks all
over the world, and hitherto believed that the regula-
tion fixing s, chimney-pieces, paperings, and fireplaces,
were pretty much of one pattern everywhere. There
is an exception, no doubt, to all rules ; and here I found

First Lifts of the Fog — Home Restored. 81

it to this one amid a flood of light from gasaliers, re-
flected from varnished walls of creamy whiteness, upon
which the flickering shadows, caused by a blazing fire,
chased each other in merry, mysterious mazes. Pic-
tures, flowers in full blossom, trickety tables, and stands
in odd corners, spangled with little goblets and knick-
nacks reflecting the dancing light in a multitude of
colours, helped to fill in the picture of a pleasant con-
trast for the eyes of a man who had lived with the
rudest externals of the world for many past days.

" Can this possibly be Newfoundland ? " was my
venturous remark on making the acquaintance of my
fair hostess, and of several of her friends who were
toasting themselves before the fire.

" Why, what did you expect ? I suppose, like us,
you could hear nothing of it in England, and thought
it was all fish and fog ! "

" Just what they said, with ice and wind into the
bargain. And here there are heliotropes and hyacinths
in blossom, and ladies with low necks in January I "

" Besides," I could not help remarking, as I observed
Mrs Wolfe's eye taking a complacent survey of her
pretty room, " thii^ is quite a different kind of barrack
to anything I remember seeing before."

" Oh ! " she replied, with just a little stiffening of the
head and neck, " this is not a barrack ; this is the
quarters of the Koyal Incidentals — his official residence !
which — is— quite — a — difierent — thing."

" No doubt of it ! " I added, meekly ; " I only wish
we were all Royal Incidentals."

%
'r

Lost Amid the Fogs.

'Ii'i:.i

"Yes, indeed," chimed in another lady, with a
merry laugh ; " and I should have my room cured of
smoking ! "

" And I," said her neighbour, " would have a sweet,
little greenhouse built. Oh 1 I do so love flowers ! "

"I'm sure I should like a lovely white and gold
paper, too," added the third lady of our little party.

" Dear me ! " cried the hostess, a little bewildered by
the variety of the attack, " I 'm certain it 's not Captain
Wolfe's fault about the smoke ; he 's always trying to
doctor those dreadful chimneys."

" I think I could cure them," replied her fair per-
secutor. " I 'd put in a lovely American grate, like this
one ; " and her little foot, in its black satin case, pointed
slyly to the glowing furnace before us.

" Oh, dear 1 but you know it would be so expensive
to put these grates in quarters, so Captain Wolfe says.
This, you know, my dear, is a residence for the Eoyal
Incidentals."

" And — quite — a — different — thing," we all cried, in
jocular chorus.

" And pray, may I ask, where does the commandant
of the garrison live ? Has he a residence ? "

" Oh, no ! He lives in quarters in the barracks like
the rest. I think," she continued, with another com-
placent glance at her domain, " the whole of his rooms
would go into this ; and he 's a dreadful grumbler about
the smoke, too 1 "

" Well ! but he 's a full colonel, and at Waterloo
before Wolfe or I was born ! I wonder he does not

First Lifts of tlie Fog — Home Bestorcd. 83

try and turn you out of this little palace, and take it
liimself 1 "

" Turn us out ! — turn us out ! the residence of the
Royal Incidentals ! " gasped]the good lady, — " out of this
lovely house, with our farm, and garden, and fields, and
dairy "

" H'm, my dear ! " said Wolfe, with a little cough, as
he entered the room — " H'm, my dear ! are we going to
dine to-day ? Twenty minutes late."

Another American stove half-blinded the eyes as the
folding-doors were at this moment opened by Cherry-
ribbons, and a goodly table laden with substantial
blessings brought to view. Our hostess caught my
expression as I wandered from the brilliant chandelier
to the brighter hearth, thence to the crimson curtains
festooned upon the walls. Nor did I fail to catch hers,
and understand by its arch smile how she intended to
imply " Don't you, my poor fellow, wish you belonged
to the Royal Incidentals ? "

Perhaps so ; but never mind that now, for she gave
us a capital dinner, which, since I had been assured
there was nothing to be found eatable in Newfoundland
but codfish, I may as well enter into a little fully.
Palestine soup, of first-rate quality, heralded the repast ;
and gi'eatly did I wonder in my heart as to where the
rich cream and Jerusalem artichokes, which clearly
formed a main part of cs ingredients, came from. I
wondered still more to perceive there was actually no
fish to follow. But we had a pair of roasted fowls,
plump and tender — taken, as Wolfe explained, out of

Lost Amid the Fogs.

a box where, with many others, they had lain half-
liozen for weeks. A Bath chop, smoked to a flavour
and quality which left no reasonable doubt of its being
home-cured, aided the discussion of the poultry. Then
followed a boiled leg of mutton, with French beans
preserved in salt, nearly as good as if just picked out
of the garden : mashed potatoes and a grouse-pie, with
kidneys and mushrooms. Ye gods ! what a perfume
rose to the nostrils of a hungry man when the lid of
that pie was lifted I Talk of codfish, boiled or salted I
"Why, it was a dilemma how to dine, and that was the
truth ; a dilemma, moreover, rapidly increasing as we
proceeded. For the Gordian knot of the first course was
cut only to be at once reravelled with goo^eberry-tart
and clotted cream — actually clotted cream, as good as
Devonshire ever boasted of— fig-pudding, jellies, and
tipsy-cake. The interlude of a Stilton, accompanied
by the crispest of celery, is hardly worth recording,
compared to my surprise at the dessert which followed.
A green Spanish melon, a pine from Porto Rico, a dish
of the incomparable Pomme-Gris apples from Montreal,
oranges from Havannah, olives, figs, and crackers!
I ventured, after the first glass of port, to observe —

" I think there is no fear of an everlasting surfeit of
salt-cod, as I heard of in England."

" Oh ! so did we," rose in a general chorus round the
table ; '* we ail heard there was nothing else, in winter
at any rate."

" But it's all off our farm, every bit of the dinner,"
said Mrs Wolfe, exultingly.

First Lifts of the Fog — Home Restored. 85

" What ! has the Royal Incidental residence got a
farm, too ? "

"I should think so, indeed! the Incidentals "

" H'ra 1 my dear ! " cried Wolfe—" eh ? Shall I ring
and see if the fire in the next room wants stirring ?
Not a farm," he continued, turning to me, " a mere
paddock — a little field — nothing worth mentioning."

" And the garden, Willy, dear ! " cried the lady, who
understood no such mysteries or depreciations of her
glory ; *' and the poultry-yard, and the sheep-pens, and
the stables, and the outhouses, and the kennels, — do you
call that nothing ? The Royal Inci "

" My dear — h'm ! — that fire will be out. Oh! surely
you are not going yet ? " So the folding-doors s'uoothly
closed upon the ample crinolines, and Wolfe said, with
a smile —

" Now, draw your chairs close to the fire, and we can
make ourselves comfortable. Hark ! how it blows still I "

" Upon my word, you seem to have fallen on very
snug quarters here, to say the least of it."

"Oh! my dear fellow ! I admit, so-so — very comfort-
able. I admit it — wife's geese are all swans, that 's the
truth of it ; but it 's a good quarter, a capital quarter
on the whole, and very few of the fellows in England
know anything about."

" No botheration, I suppose, or worry — official, I
mean ? "

" Very little ; and above all things, a healthy climate.
So with what my wife calls a little farm, h'm ! (which
makes me smile), we rub on well enough."

Lost Amid the Fogs.

" Yes," he continued, giving his moustache a rumin-
ating turn, " there 's another blessing for which we
cannot be too grateful."

" No General Oflficer in command, eh ? "

" You've hit it ; and a telegraphic message to Hali-
fax and back costs thirty-six shillings. What a com-
fort ! Why, at one of our big camps, life was not worth
having, Hterally not — worth — having. Four mails, be-
sides expresses without end. From sixty to one hun-
dred official letters every morning, and telegraphs every
quarter of an hour. Ordeis and counter-orders without
end, with litter and confusion everywhere. The office
floor was carpeted each morning with envelopes two
inches thick. A pretty life of it, and neither thanks
nor extra pay, though the work was extra in every way.
Oh ! it 's a delightful service at a large military station
at home, with a telegraph attached to it ! Thank
heaven, the mail only arrives here once a month in
winter, and once a fortnight in summer. The women
complain of it, so do the merchants ; but it 's quite
enough for me. Help yourself."

" Well, these are blessings in this out of the way
place to make up for other deficiencies. It certainly
is a gnxnd thing to be five hundred miles from the
general and his staff."

So we filled our glasses, and laughed over many old
stories of younger days, dug up out of memory's retro-
spect of the old " shop " the first time for twenty years.
Coffee came, was discussed, and though we heard the
buzz of the drawing-room through the folding-doors, we

First Lifts of the Fog — Home Restored. 87

still sat to conjure up the almost sacred scenes of
schoolboy-days. It was a long vista to travel down
before we arrived at Newfoundland. But as we rose at
the second summons, conveyed through Cherry-ribbons,
" That tea was growing cold," Wolfe said —

"Now, don't be afraid; you may find this place a
little heavy at first, on account of the season, but you
will like it very well by and by. The people are kind
and social, and the summer very pleasant. Fishing
good, shooting first-rate, climate healthy, living good,
and not too dear ; take it all in all, it 's a capital
quarter, and you 11 see if I 'm not right."

His wife confirmed all he said over a cup of tea, all
the better for standing under the " cosy," as a thick
crimson nightcap made to envelop the teapot in these
parts is called. Yet we were well scolded for sitting
so long, as Mrs Wolfe said —

" Over your wicked days, I 'm sure, before you be-
came good, steady, married men."

" Oh ! " we replied, " we assure you, we have been
listening quite meekly to the praises of the Royal
Incidentals."

" Then," said she, laughing, " I forgive you. They
cannot be praised too much. They are the cream of
the service, I think."

" And we poor fellows, then, what are we ? the dregs,
or skim-milk, or what ? "

" Oh 1 I don't say you are anything. All I know is,
they are the cream of the service to me. Come, I 'vo
another cup for you."

ffi

Lost Amid the Fons.

Well, she had a right to her opinion, and a good
opinion it was in the bargain. She had drawn a prize
in life's lottery, and had the good sense to know it.
Such honest, true-hearted pride was worthy of all re-
spect. Thank God, when good women feel such pride,
from the Queen on her throne to the humblest fisher's
wife in the wide realms of England ; to whom might
be offered vainly all the estates and riches of the world
if, without husband and child, they were to be held
and possessed.

Eleven sounded on the pendule. How quickly the
time had fled amid the harmony of pleasant voices,
music, and rustling silk. "Well," said my friend's
wife, as we shook hands, " I a^ji glad you have found
out that Newfoundland is not such a barbarous place
after all. I'm sure you will like it when you put
matters a little straight." Thought I to myself, in
milder weather, perhaps, but certainly not now; for
the plunge from the bright porch into the dark, snow-
driven night was anything but a joke. The wind
howled avengefully, the sleet slapped bitterly in the
face, and the drifts caught me artfully in their deep,
soft traps. There were but three hundred yards to go,
along a straight road, but that was the work of half
an hour. It was a series of clinging to the fence, with
half frozen hands, pitching headlong into the drift, or
pausing to listen for the chance of a guiding sound. It
came at last, just as I reflected on the chances of being
found, like Lot's wife, at break of day. A picket of-
soldieis, dragging a drunken comrade by the heels,

?!* !«

First Lifts of the Fog — Home Restored. 89

came roaring round the corner. Stumbling after them,
I scrambled through the gates, and groped a way into
my den. The stove was all but out, and the place so
thick tvith smoke that one might have cut it with a
knife. What matter? by this time I was hardened
and desperate, and had, moreover, found out, pleasantly
enough I admit, that I did not belong to the " cream
of the service." 1 was soon well under the pile of
cloaks spread upon my camp bed, and glad to be there.
The words of the great commandment rose before my
conscience, and thinking of my own unbounded blessings,
I fell asleep.

Sometimes remembering that miserable night, and
many others which followed while that dirty Govern-
ment hole remained as I found it, I would look round
with a smile at the contrast it now presents. After
liammering at the study door of my good friend's official
conscience, little by little, inch by inch, as the means
came to his hand, he was able to mend matters up.
A good grate, a clean paper, a little paint, a stopping
up of rat holes here and there, created a marvellous
change for the better. True, we have never aspired to
an '• official residence," or to a fixrm, or paddock, or
cows, conservatories, gas, white and gold paper, or such
other choice luxuries. These are left, no doubt quite
properly, to the " cream of the service." At any rate
so think the fair ladies who represent that favoured
corps in all quarters of the world. Nevertheless, we
drink our tea with plain milk very happily. The
bird sings in the corner, the plants in tha window

Lost Amid the Fogs.

are in full blossom, and old Tom, rescued from the
drain, and sent on by special express in the mail-boat,
purrs before the brightest of fires. Best of all, a little
woman again chats and laughs over her work, every note
of her cheerful voice seeming to whisper, in a gentle
refrain, " Home is home, even amid ice and snow and
every gloom ; all is bright within, and, God be praised,
home is home ! "

CHAPTER VII.

CREDIT AND DISCREDIT.

SPLENDID day, sir," cried my man, stamp-
ing the snow off his boots, as he entered
about eight o'clock next morning. " A
splendid day, sir, as ever you saw. You 'd
hardly know the place again."

"Cold?"

" Froze up, sir, as hard as a gravestone ; but there
ain't any wind."

Up I jumped to realise these blessings, and found
them not exaggerated. Mother Earth was bedecked
with a garment of the purest white, so dazzling as to
force weak mortal eyes to turn for peace to the soft
cerulean blue above. Not a breath of wind, nor a
sound but of the distant sleigh-bells, and the crisp,
musical crackling of the blanket beneath the feet — a
proof that it was freezing sharply. So it continued — a
real Canadian day, as should not be lost without a
ramble. Two hundred yards away, outside the gates,
Wolfe was standing with his dogs, yet I could fancy he
was close to my side when he shouted —

i\M

Lost Amid the Fogs.

t \

" Will you come for a walk through the town ? "
Off we went, slipping, sliding, tumbling down the
glacis. The dogs, two large handsome setters, in mag-
nificent condition after the shooting-season, came bound-
ing after, thoroughly enjoying the sport the heavy fall
of snow afforded them: now buried together in their
wild play in a drift, now casting up a volume of mimic
spray, now scratching it away in eager rivalry for a bone
snuffed beneath the surface. It was " stand clear," as
the noble brutes came bounding after us at Wolfe's
shrill whistle. Turn round and fend them off with a
friendly guard, or up you go, — cut off your feet in a
twinkling, they miles ahead again before one had time
to protest, either with tongue or stick.

So on we went, dogs and friends together, past one or
two minor streets, straight in their line, yet poor in their
build ; and down a steep, rocky descent, which, although
in the very centre of a large town, was still untouched
by the hand of man. It led us straight into the main
avenue of St John's, — Water Street, — which, formerly
built of wood, was destroyed in a terrible conflagration
in 184G. A grand opportunity for rebuilding a fine
street, which certainly, in any other community, would
have been seized with avidity, was then sadly lost.
Stores and houses of all sorts, according to the purse or
fancy of the propiietor, were run up on the alignment of
the harbour; the whole, in its snakelike twisting, for
nearly a mile and a half long, presenting, to the eye of
the stranger, a commonplace, yet substantial appearance.
Behind the buildings, on the water side of the street,

Credit and Discrcdii.

project the wharves for the ships and stores ; and, while
the lower basements of the houses are appropriated to
the retail-shops (as good as one may meet in any third-
rate town in England), the merchants live above: for
the business of the merchant here combines both the
wholesale and retail styles. He deals in thousands in
one minute with his right hand, and will sell you in the
next a packet of pins with the other. Moreover, his
retail is not confined to pins alone, — that is to say, one
article of trade, or even to a dozen or a thousand. His
wide stores contain an omnium gatherum of most of the
necessaries and rubbish of civilised life. The same sys-
tem, it is true, prevails generally in most of our colonies,
but not to the extent it has hitherto done here. Where
else is there (with the exception of Taylor's, in Corfu,
of everlasting memory) any shop where one might pur-
chase a crape-bonnet, a ham, a chimney-pot, a wedding-
ring, and a bottle of Kadway's Ready Eelief? This,
however, is more correct of the big stores on the south
or aristocratic side of the crooked street. In justice to
the proprietors of those on the opposite face, it is but
fair to say that apparently the whole of the shops there,
with scarcely an exception, dispose of but six articles —
old crockery, apples, lucifers, herrings, stale buns, and
rum ; and the greatest of these is rum. Never has it
appeared before what became of those old-fashioned
chimney-ornaments, in outrageous gilded china, of those
bronzed teapots and jugs, the admiration of a past gene-
ration at home. Here they all were, enjoying the wor-
ship of the youth of another race. It was really quite

I r.

Lost Amid the Fogs.

startling the first glimpse of that big china long-eared
spaniel, with a snub nose, the type of so many thousands
of his fragile race, adorning the windows of every shop
all down the length of the north side of Water Street.
It was to take a great leap back of thirt7 years at least,
and to pass a gentle hand across a poll but thinly-sown
now, ere the rusty links of a remembrance of a nursery-
acquaintance with him were tightly snapped together.

So it became clear, as we passed along to the river
head, at the top of the harbour, that every shop on one
side of the street was the emporium of the merchant
dealing in all the commodities here in demand, and
every shop on the other was, speaking generally, a grog-
shop. A stranger to the style of business might pass
along with the commonplace reflection that, under such
circumstances, the principles of trade, on the one hand,
were conducted still in a rude and primitive style; and,
on the other, that the labours of the disciples of Father
Mathew had not been very successful in the community.
He would be right : but there would be yet much more
to be learnt, leading at last to the conclusion, that thp
gambling and drinking shops, lying contiguous and
cheek-by-jowl, were meet and well-placed companions.
The merchant is really no merchant here, — that is, no
fair speculator, under the usual and proper understand-
ing of that term in trade ; he is simply a great com-
mercial gambler. The planter or middleman imitates
his superior on a smaller scale ; and the ignorant fisher-
man follows suit as a matter of course. This system of
trade, between the supplier and supplied, began in the

y-*l^

Credit and Discredit.

9r>

first days of the settlement as a fishing-colony, when
goods, only to be procured from a few rich merchants at
the summer-stations, were necessarily taken in advance
by the fishermen; and, unhappily, the same plan of
barter still exists, to the detriment of the morality and
})rosperity of the community. In short, the workman
eats his bread before it is earned by the sweat of his
brow ; and it is not difficult to arrive at the result of
such a plan. The merchant, with his stores full of pro-
visions, clothing, fishing-gear, and household goods, like
a spider in his parlour, awaits the approach of the hungry
fisherman, his legitimate fly. In the spring, before the
seal-fishery commences, — in May, when the cod are
coming in, — in November — no matter whether the season
has been favourable or not — the fisherman must have
supplies for his family ; his children must be fed. The
merchant, once embarked in such a business, lias no
choice but to continue, or lose all. He must, therefore,
charge awful profits, to remunerate himself against such
an awfvil risk. Accordingly, w'hile he sells a barrel of
flour to the cash-customer (when he gets one) for 30s.,
he books it to the fisherman (who may or may not pay
liim) for £3, 10s. ; a pair of boots worth, perhaps, 17s.,
are put down £2, 5s.; a gridiron, worth 2s, Gd., is noted
at 9s. ; a Jersey, 7s. Gd., at 25s., and so on. This is but
a moderate estimate of this iniquitous barter ; it being
by no means an uncommon thing, when the risk is
greater, to book the same barrel of flour at £G, and all
other things at a thousand per cent, in proportion.
Iniquitous barter, be it well understood, on both sides ;

! i

Lost Amid the Fogs.

and let us see how it acts. The fisherman, in tho
majority of cases, little he cares on the matter. The
system descended to him from his fathers; they rubbed on
and lived under it, and so will he. So he travels home
with his goods, eats and rejoices, caring nothing for the
evil day of reckoning, which comes when the fishing is
over : the fish delivered at so much on one side of the
ledger, and the outrageous credit he has taken balanced
on the other. Rarely, indeed, is there a residue in his
favour, but enough still owing to bring him back to the
spider's parlour again, and, in most cases, keep him in
the meshes all his life. The consequences to the man
and his family are easily understood. Economy, order,
cleanliness, education, prosperity, are practically to them
unknown. As he gains his money in a chance-like,
gambling fashion, so he spends it recklessly, without a
thought for the morrow. Let us look at the results
which bad fisheries, for a few consecutive years, engen-
dered. Latterly, no less than one-third of the whole
revenue of the colony has been spent in pauper-relief,
failing which a great part of the labouring population
would have perished. And, traced back to the origin
of this outlay, this enormous sum was simply a tax or
penalty, paid by the whole public, on the pernicious
system adopted by the merchants in their business
transactions.

There is yet a worse evil than this. The fisherman
looks round, and sees in the ocean a great gambling-
pool, from which he may, perhaps, in some very favour-
able season, without great trouble, draw a famous lot-

wmm

Credit and Discredit.

tery-ticket. On the other side, he sees round his door
abundance of land, which, with toil, will yield him sus-
tenance, in turnips, potatoes, hay, barley, fodder, and
•pardon- stuff. But is it in poor, ignorant, human nature
to labour and sweat, when — oh 1 so easily — all its wants
can be supplied without the toil? — when the simple
credit at the merchant's enables all to eat to-day, and
to pay when Providence is pleased to send the fish ?
So the patient earth is left, year after year, untouched ;
and the greasy fislierman, leaning idle, in the precious
spring-time, against the merchant's store in Water
Street, hugs himself with the cherished idea, that his
ticket this year in the great fish-lottery will surely turn
up a tremendous prize. Thus slow and sure, against
chance and luck, have little hope of winning. But it
must be understood that this is a way of existence
eminently suited to the Irish character, luxuriantly de-
veloping the richest traits of that unstrung nationality,
which forms the majority in this most ancient, yet still
untilled, offshoot of the British crown.

There is something to be said on the other side of a
({uestion involving such lamentable consequences to the
welfare of a people. There is some truth in asserting that
the merchant of the present day cannot help the mischief ;
that he does his best with the disastrous legacy of his
forefathers ; that he could not begin a new and healthy
system without the concurrence of all his compeers, in-
volving the risk of immediate collapse to many of them.
He ?.s obliged to charge the fisherman exorbitantly fwr
bis credit, for the risk is tremendous — out of all pro-

Lost Amid the Fogs.

portion to anything else known in trade — not only on
account of bad seasons, but also from tlie bad faith of
the men to whom he has given supplies, year after year,
with scarcely any return, yet waiting, hoping, praying,
believing in an eventual turn of luck. Yes, luck ! — the
whole business of the colony is absolutely concentrated
in that word. At last the prospect of a brimming year
arrives, and all looks hopeful. The merchant hears
great accounts of the catch and of the quality of the
fish; indeed he sees, here and there, his neighbours'
wharves begin to groan with ocean-fruit. He begins to
hug himself with the belief that, at last, his books are
not only to be balanced, but that large profits will enable
him to realise the dearest wish of his heart — a country-
house near Liverpool or Greenock. But, alack-the-day!
to his intense disgust, many of the fishermen begin to
come to his office with long faces and tales of bad luck ;
to be turned away with threats and curses, of little avail,
indeed, for he understands only too well the lying lips
the ill-taught fellows open. How is the enigma to be ex-
plained? for fish in abundance there is, without a shadow
of doubt. It is all sold, as soon as caught, for cash down,
to other parties. The fisherman, on the Banks, with his
boat loaded to the brim with fish day after day, makes
a simple reflection, that, if he sends up too much of his
labour to the merchant, it will just be wiping off old
scores, and be paying for bread eaten long ago. So, in
the gray of the morning, it happens that a fore-and-aft
schooner comes booming along, the skipper of which,
backing her sails among the little crafts, soon fills up

Credit and Discredit.

01)

his venture, at a moderate expense, wlien away lie
howls to Halifax or Boston, to join the Yankee or
hlue-nosed cuckoo-traders in growing fat over the
helpless sparrows of Newfoundland. Up go the iron
shutters before the warehouse doors and windows ; and
one hears, every now and then, of £20,000 worth of
book-debts sold by auction, in the Commercial Rooms,
for £20, and at another, of £15,G00 for a five-pound
note !

The signs of these things are about us and around us
as we walk on. The success or failure of mercantile
speculations cannot be altogether hid behind the baize-
doors of the counting-house. The prosperity or poverty
of a British city must be, at any rate, stamped plainly
on its face ; for British merchant.^, when fortune smiles,
button not up their pockets ; and, from within, their
good-will, loyalty, pride if you please, but honest pride
withal, pour forth large blessings on all around. In
their own homes of plenty they pluck freely of the fruit
and flowers, and scatter them generously abroad. Yet,
could any stranger, knowing this, traverse this great
commercial city from one end to the other, and not
draw the conclusion that something at the root of its
business was wrong and rotten, — some trust, which had
failed to establish itself between man and man, — a want
of faith between employer and employed ? He will be
told, on the one hand, that, m proportion to its inhabit-
ants, a larger business is done here than at any other
colonial city ; and he will look about, on the strength
of this, and see not a trace of that pride to which the

TTn

100

Lost Amid the Fogs.

lionest citizens of the great marts of earth point with
well-founded satisfaction.

Wolfe and I, talking of these fishy things, slid and
slipped and stumbled adown the whole length of Water
Street ; past the wharves and ships ; past the bridge of
boats which spans the neck of the harbour, past another
mile or so of straggling houses in the suburb, before we
turned our backs to the bitter westerly wind. And yet,
in all this, the principal part of St John's, aligning the
whole length of the bright, hill-surrounded harbour, not a
trace, not a sign, of a public building, or of a monument,
or ornamental fountain, or anything to denote a love
of country, or patriotism, or good-feeling to one's fellow-
men, could be noted. From this point we struggled
homewards through the snow, by narrower streets lead-
ing to the upper parts of the city; past the Eoman
Catholic cathedral, so proudly and admirably perched
on the highest crest, to command the harbour, the Nar-
rows, and many miles of inland country round ; beneath
the statue of the Baptist, at its entrance, with the scallop
in his hand, so truly emblematic of the everlasting cry
of the Chief Fisherman — " shell out, shell out ;" and so
on, past the big stone Government House, and past the
whole outskirts of the other side, towards the east and
north. It was ever the same. The houses were prin-
cipally wooden erections, straight up and down in pat-
tern, without a particle of superfluity or ornament, and
mostly mean of their kind, as the residences of British
merchants. But few of them had, upon the margin of
the pretty lakes which fringe the city, country-boxes for

'--"#,

'*«Ir

Credit and Discredit.

101

the summer, preferring the dirt and dust and cod-oily
smells of the fishy town ; not for economy or meanness,
hut in the belief that, in the gambling nature of their
business, each year would turn up the ace of trumps,
and prove the last of exile.

No athenteum, or rink, or library ; no town-hall or
museum ; no greenhouses, conservatories, or parks.
Nothing, absolutely nothing to be seen but the bare,
cold, unappealing necessities of life.

The sun was just setting as we concluded our first
walk round St John's, at Bakehouse Corner, opposite
the little fort ; a convenient spot, where roads meet and
converge, and where the folks lounge about and chat.

" Wait half-a-rainute," said Wolfe ; "I hear the
farmers going home. It 's worth while to see the styh;
of driving here."

In less time than he named, merry bells and loud
voices were heard rapidly turning the corner at the
foot of the glacis. On they came in succession, five or
six sleighs, or lumbering catamarans. The occupants,
drivers included, were lying full stretch across the bars,
backs to the horses, shouting, laughing, or swearing
jocosely at one another, as the mood of the instant took
them. It was a procession of bacchanalians, foolish,
half-screwed, yet intending no harm or mischief. The
leading catamaran was going at a heavy trot, right in
the centre of the track, the reins dragging through the
snow by the side, and the owner flat across the bottom
of the concern, face up, and most likely asleep ; while his
legs, perched across a flour barrel, hitched upwards like

102

liost Amid the Fogs.

a pair of pistons at every forward jerk of the horse. Not
one of them was watching the road, yet they followed
the leader in the narrow track as skilfully as a London
cabman could have done. On they went — on, on — past
the crest of the hill down to the little bridge spanning
the river at the head of the lake, till we could see them
no longer, or hear the music of the bells discordantly
mingled with the half-drunken human laughter.

" Well," said my friend, " what do you think of
that?"

" Think of it ? Why, that there will be a frightful
accident before these fellows reach home. Look at the
leader ! no one guides him 1 suppose he drowns the
whole lot of them ? "

** No fear ; that horse is going to a farm six or seven
miles across Windsor Lake, and he knows every foot
of the road ; and besides that, his master is dead drunk.
He'll carry him home quite safe, and the wife will
lift her old man off the sleigh, and put him to bed.
Valuable horse that, eh ? "

" What brings all these fellows into town at this
season, through all this snow ? "

" Why, these are some of the best in the country,
half-fishermen, half-farmers. They come in for sup-
plies for their families, mostly flour, tea, and molasses.
You may thus see the advantage of the arrangement
of our principal street at a glance; the flour barrels
from the merchant's stores on one side, and the rum
from the grog-shops on the other."

"Great facility for business, certainly; but what

Credit and Discredit,

103

will happen to people or sleighs meeting that drunken
lot?"

" That 's their look out, as you will soon find, in the
shooting season especially. It's you must get out of
the way ; they have nothing to hurt. But it 's only
when the farmers come into town they get so ' cut ; '
generally in the country you will find them sober
enough. A rough lot in some respects, but uniformly
kind, obliging, and civil. Come home to tea."

Willingly, though first we had to run the gauntlet
of a mimic snow-fight in the little quadrangle opposite
the Governor's gate. There some of the college boys,
having escorted so far their friends on their way home,
took naturally to pelting the sentry, and then to have
a few parting shots among themselves, or any passei's
by. Fast and thick the volleys flew, and a boy in
front of us having missed a stinger with both hands,
received it full smash in the face, to the intense de-
light of the opposite party. " Butter fingers ! Butter
fingers I " was the yell ; and it did one good to hear
the old English schoolboy word in so strange a place.
Butter fingers 1 it carried one back to English play-
grounds, and told us better still of English blood
training here to rule, please God, with healthy tone
and heart in the future. Oh! for the days gone by,
when that dear old expressive term was pitched con-
temptuously at our diminished heads.

So ended our first walk in Newfoundland, the fore-
runner of many others. It was pardonable, indeed, if
one feli by this time tired, for ploughing through the

104

Lost Amid the Fogs.

heavy snow was just the work of a ticket-of -leave man
taking a turn at an amateur treadmill to keep his legs
in practice. How dreary and blank it w^as outside,
and how cheerful within, where my fair friend — if she
still, most justly to herself, persisted in declaring that
there was nothing to be named with the " cream of the
service " — was a dead hand at brewing a fragrant cup of
tea, richly garnished with that lubricant whose name
she borrowed to express all that was best to her in the
vast length and breadth of Her Majesty's military
service.

% K

■\h i i; :• '■

<r« i -J'-:

CHAPTER VIII.

MARTIAL AND POLITICAL.

|HAT body of military men, long known in
the Army List as " The Royal Newfound-
land Companies," was in these days at its
very last gasp, destined soon after to be
amalgamated with a more prosperous and important
corps. The causes which led to this wholesome change,
affecting largely the social and political bearing of the
colony, will properly find a place in these pages.

First, a few words respecting the regiment itself ;
for, though called by an inferior title, a small regiment
it had always been. It was principally made up of
volunteers from regiments serving in North America ;
usually married men, who, with families, and weary of
the routine of parades and knocking about the world,
jumped at the chance of a more settled kind of life,
half-soldier, half-colonist, pretty much according to the
taste of the superior on the spot. It was, indeed,
ordered that these volunteers should be men of estab-
lished character ; but this rule was little attended to,
for the temptations to commanding officers in Canada

rii)

106

Lost Amid the Fogs.

jind Nova Scotia to shunt their incorrigibles to the
unknown regions of fish and fog land were too strong
to be neglected ; and, as a matter of course, when a
call for volunteers was made, all the hard drinkers and
other pleasant boys were shipped off to the unhappy
commandant of Newfoundland.

Nor were the companies, in another sense, less of a
refuge to the destitute, in regard to the gentlemen by
whom they were officered. Very convenient, in those
palmy days of old, were colonial corps, as asylums
for fast young men, worn out young men, and young
men without money; and again, as ladders, whereby
to scramble into the service, to elderly young men, who
could bring some Parliamentary lever to aid them up.
It was usually appointed to control such mixed mate-
rials to some .experienced yet hard-used veteran, whose
office was but a hornets' nest if he attempted to
enforce strict discipline, for which he might receive
but scant thanks, as, under all circumstances, high
efficiency was little expected. What was required at
his hands was, by skill and tact, to keep things orderly,
with a good outward military appearance. If he man-
aged this, he had brought his experience to an excellent
market.

So matters crept on for many years, the Companies
falling under the command of one veteran after another .
the officers performing the duties expected of them
well and comfortably ; not indeed emblazoning the
colours with the titles of heroic deeds, but keeping up
with the men a respectable semblance of martial order.

Martial and Political.

107

Until it so happened, during a political disturbance,
when the force was suddenly called upon to act, cer-
tain circumstances brought its discipline into such
questionable relief, that it was determined to expunge
the Companies as a separate body, and by amalga-
mating them with another regiment, annihilate that
local influence which had grown stronger than other
less tangible fealties. What this storm in an oil-jar
was, and how the soldiers came to be mixed up in it,
must now be briefly narrated.

The great land of fish-and-fog has really no history,
in the fair sense of the word, and has made no mark
worthy of record on the great muster-rolls of the past.
No battles have here been fought in which the liberties
or rights of the oppressed have been wrested from the
despot's grasp ; no revolutions here have torn society
asunder with piteous trembling in a midnight earth-
quake ; no grand discoveries to assuage pain, increase
the means of the poor, or the luxuries of the rich, ever
claimed a birthplace here ; no ruined, ivy-covered walls
crowning the rugged heights above the harbour, point
to feudal dignities of yore ; no moss-covered graves,
beneath the rugged elms, sleep within the hallowed
shade of the village church. There are no such sacred
landmarks by which the course of time and Qf ogress
may be traced, yet it will be shown that the land, with-
out a place in history, has not been without its blessings,
and great blessings too ; and its little story, unromantic
for three hundred years, may be told in a very few
words.

I 4,.

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108

Lost Amid the Fogs.

The first adventurers who touched these shores, in
the fifteenth century, came back with marvellous ac-
counts of the shoals of fish upon the coast ; and repre-
sented the land (for, remember, they came in the bright
summer time) as pleasant and fair to look on, covered
for the most part with thick woods, or open plains,
upon which luscious wild fruits ripened in extraordinary
abundance. They spoke of numerous harbours and
inlets indenting the high cliffs, into which the gracious
streams from the hills poured their sparkling waters.
A few aboriginal red men were seen, who hunted tlio
vast numbers of deer, wolves, bears, and ptarmigan.
Was not this the sort of land into which to tempt tlio
adventure of Anglo-Saxon enterprise ? Assuredly so ;
and very soon it happened that summer after summer
ships brought out hardy men, who, dropping anchor
in the sheltered coves along the deep watered shores,
and lighting their camp-fires on the beach, caught fish,
dried it in the sun upon flakes of fir boughs ; fed gaily
on choice fat venison ; hunted the wolf, bear, and
marten for pastime ; and brought home in the fall of
the leaf enough to turn into broad gold pieces, with
something to spare for silk attire for the long-deserted
wives. Increasing numbers necessitated at length tho
establishment of some law among the community ; a
point settled by their agreeing to nominate as their
chief magistrate for each season the captain of the first
vessel arriving, who hoisted his fiag as Fishing- Admiral
for the summer. To him, as to a dictator, all questions
were referred for arbitration ; and by his orders punish-

'-X.

Martial and Political.

109

nient, where imprisonment was impossible, was promptly
dealt out by means of a post and a good stout cowhide.
For many years, indeed generations, during which, be
it well borne in mind, there were no women among the
adventurers, this rough and ready sort of justice an-
swered every purpose. But at length, perhaps tempted
by the building of better ships, some bolder wives
ventured out with their husbands, and naturally, when
the first storms of winter set in, the terrors of a return
voyage across the broad Atlantic with bad provisions
began to prevail, and the thoughts of braving the winter
in sheltered woods and nooks to expand into experi-
ment. The bold experiment succeeding, the example
(juickly formed the first real settlement. It was com-
posed entirely of fishermen, rough, illiterate, hardy, and
oleaginous, who, in a healthy climate, quickly increased
to thousands. At length the Government at home
dignified the little settlement and its branches by the
name of a Colony, and in process of time sent out a
Governor, with orders at first to reside among the people
during the summer, but afterwards permanently all the
year round. Under these, for the most part able men,
duly authorised magistrates superseded the ancient and
lionourable tribunal of the Fishing-Admiral, until gra-
dually the usual staff of colonial administration, with its
Executive and Legislative Councils, Houses of Parlia-
ment, and all the big wigs and little wigs, crept in under
the wing of the great man, to help to cut and carve the
annual colonial cake. For many years from the era of
the baking of the first cake they cut and sliced at it pretty

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110

Lost Amid the Fogs.

much as they pleased, with this proviso, that nothing
could be eaten or taken away without the absolute
consent of the Governor, or by a reference through him
to the home authorities. This system eventually be-
came a great bugbear. It was in truth an unutterable
nuisance to Privy Councillors in England, to study and
settle paltry questions anent the distribution of slices
of stale colonial cake, even to the crumbs which fell
(often furtively) beneath the legislative table. These
impediments at length increased to that extent, com-
bined with the difficulties of arriving at just decisions
at such a distance, that it was determined to leave the
more advanced colonists to cut, carve, and eat their own
cake entirely as they pleased, under the awe-inspiring
title of Responsible Government. This system began
to be put into practice at the commencement of the
reign of Sir Alexander Bannerman, who succeeded Sir
Charles Darling as Governor, in 1857. Kings, Lords,
and Commons, as the grand principles of the Consti-
tution of the British Government, were forthwith in-
augurated as a combined authority in the colony, on a
scale, it is true, ridiculously small, yet not for that
matter ridiculous in itself, provided the working element
of strength in the governing and confidence in the
governed existed. This unhappily at first did not ; and
why it did not requires a fresh turn of the colonial
kaleidoscope to understand.

The first fisherman of this great fishing colony is,
and always has been, the representative of the Holy
Father. He is not, indeed, known in law as The

Martial and Political.

Ill

Bishop of Newfoundland, but in fact and custom,
except by a small minority in St John's, his proud pre-
rogatives to the title arc indisputably accepted. He
lives, as might be expected, in a big house, under the
shadow of his big cathedral, on the top of the biggest
hill, facing the harbour ; and nothing that comes in or
goes out, nothing happening, or likely to carry with it
tlie most trivial influence, whether of public or domestic
weal or woe, but is, in the general belief of the com-
munity, well known within its walls. Independently
of the ordinary fees paid into his coffers, for the usual
-services and rites of the Church, his grand annual
revenue is collected by the merchants (whether Pro-
testant or Catholic) from their Roman Catholic sub-
ordinates, and no feudal lord of old ever received greater
deference, or stricter obedience than he as to his as-
sumed rights on this head. Gravely inconvenient would
it be (as the worldly-wise merchants know to their
cost), if, when all things were ready for the voyage, —
vessels repaired and crammed with provisions, and the
ice reported to the northward black with seals, — by
some mysterious influence, not a man, save the scum
of the streets, would embark on the perilous venture ;
if, indeed, the heretical firm, who should stiffly tell the
Bishop to gather his own taxes, were silently tabooed
by the brave yet superstitious fishermen. To them is to
understand a nod, and to obey. They hear, as it were,
the cry, " Great is Diana of the Ephesians and the
statue which fell down from Jupiter ! " and they ask no
questions of the why and wherefrom of its influence.

W *

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112

Lost Amid the Fogs.

I I

This is the time of sowing ; and then cometh the har-
vest, wherein not a ship comes back from the sealing,
but the priest is duly advised thereof, and not a hatch
is lifted until the Roman excise is strictly exacted.
As soon as may be after the anchor is dropped, the
holy man steps from the merchant's wharf to the deck
of the ship, where the men, to whom half the profits
of the voyage belong, with folded arms and reeking
in grease, are lolling expectantly about the greasier
decks.

" God save all here 1 " says he, with the sign of the
cross, and a pleasant look around.

All hands are lifted respectfully to touch the shaggy
caps at the holy salutation ; though, if the truth must
be spoken, the welcome is rather of a chilling character.
Of this the priest takes not the slightest notice, but
unabashed, and still more aflfably, says —

" 'A^ell, boys, glad to see ye all back again ; and what
luck?"

" Ah ! but indade, father, sorra the much o' that."

" Well, now, I '11 be saying, boys, that the blessing
has followed ye all ; I '11 go bail there 's seven thousand
beauties under our feet now."

Hark to the howl which runs round the deck, and
the men begin to gather round the priest.

" Indeed, then, we have na', father," cry a score of
voices, " and that 's the holy truth."

" Now, to think of that, boys, after all we 'd heard of
the craturs this spring. Say, then, six thousand five
hundred ? "

Martial and Political.

113

" Begorra, and nothing like it, father," shout the
chorus again. •

" To think of that now ! Well, now, five thousand ? "

" The divil a skin over four thousand in the ship,
fiither, and hy that 's the truth."

" Well, my son, and a fine voyage too. Tiie Lord be
praised for it! You'll say the good word first, Pat
OTlaherty, for I know ye of old as an honest boy.
Wliat shall I write down to your name for the Church
and the Blessed jMother ? "

"Ah, father I be aisey wid me now. Sure ye know
it 's me that 's badly off these three years with the wife
and childer, and the praties all gone. You '11 be putting
me down a pound."

'* A pound ! ye villain ! Is it a pound I 'd tell his
Lordship, and you the skipper of the ship ? I '11 put ye
down three pounds, Pat ; and if ye make me ashamed,
I '11 be settling myself for it. Now, Tim Nowlan, hold
up here, my man ; what shall I say for ye ? "

"Ah, now, father ! we've had the bad saysins afore ;
say tin shillings, and the Lord bless ye !"

" Do — you — see — the — ind — of — that — rope, Tim
Nowlan, I say ? If it were not for disgracing my coat,
I 'd be after lathering ye mcself. You 're down for a
pound ; and little for ye, a single boy as ye are."

So, between threats and persuasions, chaff and dark
forebodings, the clever ambassador tottles up his list,
down to the boy who serves as cook's mate, and drops
it at the counting-house of the merchant as he walks
out of the premises. The rest of the affair gives him

114

Lost Amid the Fogs.

no anxiety. He is quite sure the amount will be de-
ducted from the men's accounts, and a cheque despatched
in due time to the Bishop's secretary. The merchant
makes a wry grimace at being thus converted into a
Romish tax-gatherer ; but no doubt his Lordsliip on the
big hill enjoys this seasoning of the dish, reflecting on
the pleasure and profit which results in thus constitut-
ing himself his own ecclesiastical commissioner among
the prosperous yet graceless heretics.

Yet it is right, when thus speaking of the enormous
influence of the priesthood, to show where it acts for
good. Many an act of retribution is secretly prompted
from the confessional, where the guilty man, revealing
his spoilings and pickings, receives advice which con-
science compels him to act on. One morning, when
leaning against the desk of li merchant's office, a man
came in, and, casting a sheepish look at the proprietor,
said, " I 'ra come to pay up, sir ; and here it is."

" Pay what up?"

" Wal, sir, d'ye mind the bit of a dust we had about
five years back?"

"Ah!" said old Nic, the dawn beginning to break,
" you were teller on the wharf then, and you cheated
me ; was that it, eh ? "

" Wal, sir, we had a breeze about the fish, and that
parted us ; and, if I must speak it out, I did reckon up
a little wrong, I believe. I 've made it up as near as I
can — 'bout £80, I believe ; and here it is."

" Hand it over."

*' Wal now, sir," cried the fellow, as he tendered the

Martial and roUtical.

115

notes very reluctantly, " if you have overcharged me
sometimes, as I daresay you have, by mistake, we might
be quits, you see, 'stead of you taking the money."

" Not a penny," cried old Nic, bringing down his
hand a clincher on the desk, — " not a penny. Here,
Tom, carry this money over to credit. And you, my
man, tell Father Kearney, with my compliments, he
lias done quite right, quite right; good morning. "
Bravo ! old Nic.

Thus of the seals, so of the cod, and the herring, and
all the other smaller fry. Not a man goes out in a
boat but knows that, of his labours, a part goes to
Mother Church. That he need not plead ignorance, the
Bishop takes good care to name a day, in the height of
the season, upon which he ordains that all fish caught
are scrupulously to be set apart for holy use. It would
rather be more correct and fair to say, for the Church
and for the glory of the Church alone. For willing
testimony should be borne to this refulgent fact, that,
not for his own luxuries, not to administer to his own
pleasures, are these lordly revenues collected by the
Bishop, but purely to promote the vigour of his own
faith according to the light of his conscience. With
his priests and other ecclesiastical staff, lie lives in a
certain state on the pinnacle of the hill in a palace,
upon the external decoration of which but little of his
taxes have been wasted ; and the same may be said of
the great cathedral itself, as well as of the nunneries,
schools, colleges, workshops, &c., which, beneath that
holy shade, form quite a little separate township, wherein

ik;

Lost Amid the Fogs.

his word and will are absolute law. Nor in the interior
of his palace, fitted only for the residence of a plain,
simple gentleman, has gew-gawgery, or decoration, been
unnecessarily lavished. Truly, with the great means at
his disposal, and considering the unquestioned manner
in which his pleasure concerning them might be ac-
cepted, there is much in the absence of worldly ostenta-
tion which commands unfeigned respect.

IJut to turn the thoughts of men away from the true
service of God to which they have immediately conse-
crated their energies, the tempter has more than one
illusion to hold out. A man may shut up in his heart
the seeds and roots of many mortal weaknesses, but a
chink will ever remain open, out of which some will
spring. If he trample down, in blindly outraging his
nature, all domestic loves, another lust, that of power
and place, will assuredly raise its rank, unfragrant head
in that congenial soil.

It was upon this rock the worthy Bishop stumbled
in his otherwise fair and even path of life. Had he
looked behind and reflected on the experience of his
predecessors, he might have avoided the obstacle, even
by withstanding the devil in plain worldly wisdom, and
escaped the terrible fall the arch-fiend gave him ; which
true men of all persuasions were grieved to witness.
This is how it came to pass.

We have already seen that, for many generations,
the simple people who composed the fishing settlements,
even long after the seat of government had been concen-
trated at St John's, were contented with the institutions

Marticd and Political.

117

which they received at the pleasure of the motlier
country. But at length, as the city increased, an agi-
tation sprung up for a representative legislature, at a
time (more than thirty years ago) when Sir Thomas
Cochrane was Governor, and the mitre of the Koman
Bishopric sat on the head of Dr Fleming. Up to this,
Protestants and Catholics had lived together on terms
of brotherhood, untinged by the animosities which the
differences in religion too usually engender. They had
worked together to obtain the relief of the Catholics
from all civil disabilities; and again in the demands
which were urged upon the Home Government for
representative institutions. But, alas ! no sooner was
the boon acceded, no sooner did the Governor pronounce
the words wliich gave them a right to an opinion as to
how their cake should be cut, then the cake itself, the
whole cake — yea, every plum in it, petrified into a great
bone of discord. Even this might have been arranged ;
but, tempted beyond his strength, the Bishop mingled
his enormous influence with the elections. Political
feelings have since banded men in parties together,
separated old friends and families, and intensified their
antipathies, as the party war-cries grew louder and
louder at each election. ►So bitter did the strife become,
so accursed were the gangrenous feelings engendered,
that Sir Thomas Cochrane, who had laboured long (yet
prematurely) in obtaining a successful reply to tho
demands of the people, and who for other causes was
strongly entitled to their respect and gratitude, was
actually hooted, hissed, and pelted by an enormous

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Lost Amid the Fogs.

mob, as he embarked at St John's for England on the
resignation of his government. Well may he have
bitterly thought of the sad words of Wisdom, as he
steamed through the Narrows seaward : " I looked on
all the works my hands had wrought, and on the labour
that I had laboured to do, and behold all was vanity
and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit under
the sun."

But a time of retribution came to the Bishop in his
turn ; and the weight of the terse adage which sums up
in those common words the result of human glory,
power, unrest, and every other blind search after earthly
happiness, came home to him sorely in the latter days of
life. The venerable prelate was a good, kind man at
heart, and the reaction was therefore the more crushing.
Stories are still told of him, how, while strength re-
mained, he went alone and humbly to the doors of per-
sons who had differed with him, or to whom he believed
he might possibly have done injustice, to seek their for-
giveness and reconciliation. Looking down into the
black chaldron, out of which he bad fondly hoped to
refine the pure go! I to regild the tarnished glory of his
Church, and seeing there instead the abominations, the
follies, the strife, the ugliness, which his labours had
kindled, he bitterly repented that his hand had not been
stayed, and mourned that the time when the English
gentleman, whom his low and intensely ignorant rabble
had insulted, ruled the land, could not again return.
So he too departed, a Solomon, with the words of wisdom

Martial and Political.

Ill)

and repentance on liis lips; and yet, as in the great
story of old, his successor heeded them not.

Then cried they, when Dr Mullock ascended the
mitred chair, " Ah ! here is a wise man who will not
commit the faults of the good old Bishop just dead.
This one will not meddle in worldly things. He knows
better than to compromise his position with the issue ot
political pastorals, and in exciting men's passions for
party purposes. Now we shall have peace and quiet once
more." For a while they were right, and might still
have been so, were it not that those influences which
impel the Roman ecclesiastic to the love of power are
too strong for resistance ; and to an able man, sprung
originally from the people, and at length seated on that
high eminence above the city, whitlier every breeze,
laden with piscatory incense, wafted the knowledge of
his power, the desire himself to move tlie secret levers
of state became daily more unconquerable. At length
he clutched them with a strong hand, and, with his
own men and creatures in place, long wielded them at
pleasure. Like the surface of a bog covered with briglit
green moss, but stagnant rottenness beneath, so for
this time the authority of the Fish colony was handled
ostensibly with success, while inwardly abuses and
corruptions were sapping out its very vitals.

But now, having brouglit down our story to more
recent times, another character appears on the stage,
destined to exercise much influence over the fortunes of
his fellow-men beyond the Great Fog Banks.

120

Lost Amid the Fogs.

In 1857, his Excellency Sir Alexander Bannerman
was appointed from the government of the Bahamas to
that of Newfoundland. He had also been Governor of
Prince Edward's Island, a colony not without an interest
In the fish trade, and, moreover, as he hailed from
Aberdeen, and had personally engaged, in his early
days, both in the seal and whale fisheries, he brought
to Newfoundland, together with a reputation for honesty,
: "iia-pcter for ripe experience in the great ocean staple,
\\:?A ^' V=iing a good fisherman to boot in every sense of
the lorvT?. At the time of assuming the reins of power,
';ic was vv ^'Ivanced in years; his tall commanding
figu V, (>.'UT J ''^voarently feeble to a casual observer,
still retaiiiin;^' ilio great characteristics of the majestic
proportions for which it had been conspicuous in youth ;
while the simple trust beaming in every expression of
his face was a sure passport to the respect of all with
whom he was brought in connexion. Age had, while
making inroads on his physical strength, left his mind
fresh and unimpaired; assisting it, moreover, with a
memory which never slipped the minutest trifle from its
prolific net. Extremely liberal in his political opinions
during the many years he sat in Parliament, and more-
over a coadjutor of Connell in obtaining the release
of Catholic disabilities, he had another claim to a
cordial reception from the most bigoted of the Irish
community. However this may be, it was soon pretty
evident to outside observers, that the " First Fisherman"
of the colony, the able prelate on the hill, was little

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Martial and Political.

121

inclined to yield an inch of influence or position to any-
other fisherman sent here by authority ; and that the
question to be resolved under the shadow of the Cathe-
dral was, how to make all inferior fishermen believe
that the chief hook-and-liner still dwelt there, while the
ostensible master of the State smack was drifting into
an opposite channel. So having to deal with a man
utterly guileless and unsuspicious of craft or cajolery,
the Bishop steered the staggering skiff pretty much as
he willed for a long time. Indeed, the two chief fisher-
men became quite cordial in their acquaintance, the
Bishop being a frequent visitor at Government House,
and well acquainted with the official mahogany. It is
not known whether any thoughts or hopes of proselytis-
ing entered the episcopal ideas, but at any rate in those
palmy days he presented the Governor with a large gold-
clasped Douay Bible, which conspicuously figured ever
afterwards, a mark of affection and respect, from his
faithful and loving " •{< John Thomas," on the drawing-
room table of her Ladyship. The acquaintance may
oven have been said to have ripened into that stage which
warrants a little badinage without offence ; for on a
certain occasion it is recorded that, on the Bishop com-
plaining of palpitation of the heart, the canny old Scotch
gentleman looked up and said, "'Deed, man, and I 've been
lang thinking you 're right ; an' it wouldna surprise me
to hear ony day ye 'd come doon, while stalking up that
great big cathedral o' yours, like an auld pair o' boots."
It must be confessed it was horridly familiar, and the

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I ;

122

Lost Amid the Fogs.

Bishop, before his chaplain, by no means relished it ; but
it is fair to add that it was spoken when the one great
fisherman had become wide awake to the tactics and
policy of the other ; and just before the final blow up,
which is now to be related. This will bring us back, as
it were, in a circle to our original point of starting, — the
share of the late Koyal Newfoundland Companies in
the programme of this mimic page of warlike history.

1 '\i

s=i»3[^

CHAPTER IX.

THE KNELL FROM CATHEDRAL III LI..

fF there be one advantage greater than another
which a liberal constitution, a free press, an
encouragement of education, and a deep, in-
ward cultivation of religion, bestows on a
people, it possibly should lie in an under-current of
,2;eneral belief that, within such conditions and circum-
stances, the public weal must prosper, notwithstanding
the blots and deficiencies which any particular leader
might momentarily cause ; so that, when the engine of
State should work a little crankily, there is duly pro-
vided, by sound public opinion and its free expression,
tiie necessary machinery for repairing it. But in this
last principle lies the whole gist of the matter; for,
strange as it may appear, with all the above advantages
and safeguards, it still is possible to find a land in which,
while the principal men are absorbed in the hope of the
acquisition of rapid wealth, public opinion is either dead
or stagnant — so stagnant, at any rate, as to view with
indifiference the liberties of the constitution long stifled
by a power unauthorised and irresponsible save to itself.

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124

Lost Amid the Fogs.

Thus the puffing little engineof Fish-and-fog-land, work-
ing under (jTJtasi-responsible stokers and drivers for some
five or six years, had become, in the year of grace 18G0,
so very rusty and cranky indeed, that, among the share-
holders of the company, there was a general feeling of
suspicion and distrust concerning it. The Chief Fisher-
man on the Cathedral Hill had long assumed the chair,
and given his orders concerning it ; but, about this time,
it would not run smoothly on the grooves he chose for
it, and it wanted but a little more pressure on the valvo
to burst and blow up altogether. This weight the irre-
sponsible driver (determined that tlie engine should run
where he listed, and nowhere else) supplied ; and very
imexpected by him, as to the rest of the shareholders,
was the explosion which followed.

Fish-and-fog-land was, about this time, in a denser
fog than usual. The supporters of the Bishop were dis-
contented with themselves and their vassalage. Among
tliem were able and estimable men, who, though tied
down by the bigotry of their faith, were sitting restless
and uneasy under an unlawful fealty, but still unable of
themselves, or unwilling, to shake off the media3val yoke.
]\Iurmurs, mild and respectful, rose here and there, which
might have warned a more cautious usurper of the
coming storm ; until at length, though still mildly, the
Government — his Government! — actually neglected or
evaded carrying out certain legislative enactments upon
which his Lordship's wishes had been promulgated. It
was, indeed, high time for the mighty voice from Cathe-
dral Hill to make itself heard ; and soon, by one of those

g„

Tlie Knell from Cathedral Hill

125

highly- seasoned documents ironically termed "Pastor-
als," the roar reverberated over hill and vale to the outer-
most fishing-cove of the colony. There was certainly no
mistake about the language, nor ambiguity respecting
the meaning of the Bishop to his flock. The present
holders of power were condemned up-hill and down-dale
for their shortcomings, their pilferings, their selfishness,
and their misappropriation of the public funds, lie
l)aintcd them to posterity by the choice epithets of
"State-paupers and locust-like officials;" and he called
upon the electors of the country to look out for new
representatives, and to hold themselves in readiness for
another election, "the which," added the Bishop, "may
be very soon." — ! ! !

It would be no great stretch of imagination to realise
tlie Bishop's satisfaction as he penned the above dignified
record of his political opinions, whereby he had thus
typically lashed the backs of the rebellious ministers,
and which should convey a universal consternation
throughout the length and breadth of Fish-and-fog-land.
" Ah, ah ! " it may be supposed, was the turn and drift
of his inward chuckle. " Ah, ah ! this will teach them
to mind my words and wishes a little more ; they will
none of them like to risk their seats and lose their pretty
pickings. Oh, oh 1 Sir Alexander thought I was com-
ing down, like a pair of old boots, did he ! He '11 soon
see there 's a kick left in the old boots yet ! They all
want a lesson, and they shall have it." Can wo imagine
Cardinal Manning, under any circumstances (say when,
even after dinner, the Pope's health is drunk before the

1 ■

126

Lost Amid the Fofjf.

C^ueen's), announcing that ho had made up his mind to
dismiss the ministers, dissolve Parliament, and order a
new general election throughout the country ? If Sir
Alexander Bannerman had had any private doubt
fore as to the person who was dc facto Chief Fisherm.in
in the fish-colony, this remarkable " Pastoral " must have
completely satisfied them. But the churchman had
wofully miscalculated the moral force which lay dormant
beneath the usually placid and benevolent exterior of the
old British gentleman, who very speedily showed that lie
was equal to the occasion.

" He wiirt ii man that felt all chief

Frijiu roots o' hair to sole o' stockin'.
Square set with thousan'-ton belief

In his own strength, if airth went rock in'.
Ole Sandy wouldn't stand see-saw

'Bout doiu' things till they wuz dun with ;
He 'd sniaslied the tables o' the Law,

In time o' need, to load his gun with."

In other words, the old Scotchman at once decided that
he must fill his position, or resign, and had not long to
wait before he had a favourable opportunity of showing
his metal. The leader of the Government, an able man.
but placed in a false position, so that he could no longer
steer a course acceptable to his feudal lord while pre-
serving his own independence with dignity, floundered
in the House, until, by a few ill-advised remarks, he
compromised his position personally with the Governor.
First the minister, then the Parliament were dismissed,
and a general election for new members called through-
out the colony. " If," as no doubt his Excellency rea-

The Knell from Cafhdml Hill

127

Roned, " the good sense of the country returns honest
men, with whicli the business of tlie Government can
1)0 conducted — well ; if not, they must themselves be
responsible for their own shortcomings. But it is my
<Uity to sound the state of jtublic feeling, and to leave
no means untried whereby the hand of legitimate power
may be armed and strengthened."

Now, to any one who has learned anything about
election-times among a people of Milesian blood, it may
easily be apparent what a terrible broil and commotion
rose in the fish-kettle when the proclamations for the
new election were announced. It was a (luestion of life and
death to the Bishop ; or a loss of prestige .uid power,
next to it. So he put forth all he knew ; and liis numer-
ous staff of priests, scattered throuj^li the out-harbours,
bays, villages, and fishing-settlement>^ laid their sacred
slioulders to the political wheel as weh. But all in vain.
The Protestants, except in St John's, where they are
outnumbered, (six to one), have, in Newfoundland, a
small majority still ; and their spirit being as fairly
aroused as that of the opposite party, in spite of intimi-
dations and serious rows, which occurred iu several
])laces, it soon began to appear, as the election-returns
arrived, that the Bishop's servants would be in the de-
scending scale of the balance. One may easily imagine
the dismay under the shadow of Cathedral Hill as this
unwelcome result became more evident daily.

Still, so orderly was the conduct of the people, so
friendly had been Protestants and Catholics one towards
another for generations past, that it was never supposed

128

Lost Amid the Fogs.

but when the excitement of the elections had passed
away, the new members would duly take their seats,
and business be resumed without any difficulty. Riots
and rows were unknown in St John's, and the organisa-
tion for their suppression was therefore practically non-
existent. It happened, however, that there dwelt in
►St John's a citizen of good position, who, being a per-
vert from the faith of his fathers, was the more violent
in his new opinions. He had held office under the
Bishop's Government, and was resolved, couie quicoute,
to hold a seat under the new government, and do valiant
battle as heretofore for his Lord therein. Ho lost his
election in the outharbours for which he stood, but,
under cover of a lot of rowdies, suddenly, by his elo-
quence, forced the returning-officer to give a false
certificate of his election. Hastening back to the
capital, armed with this paper, he had the amazing
assurance to force his wav into the Parliament House
on the day of opening, whence he was expelled witli
difficulty only just before the Governor and his staff
appeared to inaugurate the assembly with the usual
proceedings. Hiiic illce lacrymcc — soon about to flow.

A largo crowd, mainly composed of sympathisers
with the defeated politician, had assembled before the
doors of the house. It need scarcely be added that they
were gathered from the most ignorant fanatics of St
John's. Not that there is anything peculiar in this, it
is the same in all large cities ; but it is not in every
city, thank heaven ! that a man of education, and who
had already held an honourable position in the councils

The Knell from Cathedral Hill

129

of a government, will stoop to make use of such tools
for purposes of aggrandisement. Let alone, the people,
though ignorant enough, are quiet, orderly, and kind ;
hut even under such circumstances it takes but little
skill to mingle together the foul elements of rapine,
misery, and destruction. Human nature is ever too
ready, in some shape or other, to prey upon its fellows.

So, no sooner had the Governor's carriage disap-
peared behind the gates of the official residence, than
the mob, like the herd of swine with the devils in them,
rushed violently down a steep place leading to the prin-
cipal part of the city in Water Street. There, furious
at the expulsion of their friend from the house, they
commenced forthwith to plunder and destroy the shops
and stores of persons who had taken a leading part in
opposition faith and principles. For a considerable
time they had all their own way, robbing and gutting
in a way quite new to Fish-and-fog-land. In vain did
several priests, hurrying down from Cathedral Hill,
nobly try to stem a torrent which had been become by
loot still more polluted with strong drink. Expostula-
tion was all in vain. Such a horrid scene Newfoundland
had never before witnessed. The roars and curses of
her infuriated ruffians wanted alone the aid of fire to
make her principal mart in its mimic resemblance to a
little Gehenna complete.

This, no doubt, would have been, but was not to be.
As the long spring day waned to its close, the handful
of men who composed the Royal Newfoundland Com-
panies were seen coming down the hill at the double

130

Lost Amid the Fogs.

from the barracks, led by an able and experienced
officer, who, had he possessed the power, would pro-
bably have cleared the streets, without loss of life, in
twenty minutes, at the point of the bayonet. But u
commanding officer possesses no power to act, except
at the instant command of a magistrate, an official who
can scarcely be expected, at such a wild crisis, to form
the clearest judgment upon life and death. So, in the
middle of the principal street, on a point where, beneath
the market-house, the place is commanded by a steej)
hill, the troops were k'^lted, and there exposed, for two
mortal hours, to the ridicule and stones of the mob,
who paid as much attention to the Riot Act as they
would have done to a snow-storm. They laughed at
the notion of the troops firing on them : certainly not
without reason. Three-quarters of the soldiers had
intermarried with the people, and it was scarcely to be
wondered that they reposed some confidence in their
friends. At length, as twilight descended on a scene
so strange in the Ancient colony, a shot, nobody know
how, and nobody could tell afterwards, was fired at the
troops ; and then, at whose immediate command nobody
exactly knew, and nobody could tell afterwards, an
irregular volley was poured at close point-blank upon
the crowd, which instantly turned to flee with hideous
yells of terror. At that moment — (0 Bishop ! why not
sooner ? You knew your power over the people ! why
lot them loot, and plunder, and outrage humanity for
half-a-day within a very earshot unheeded ?) — the great
bells of the big cathedral on the hill clanged and clashed

Tlie Knell from Cathedral Hill.

131

an impetuous summons for assembly within the holy
walls, and instantly the wretched tools, cowed and be-
wildered, yet foaming with anger, their oily garments
bedabbled here and there with blood, swarmed up the
ascent to hear the commands of the Great Fisherman.
As that ominous knell reverberated over the citv, the
long aisle of the sacred building, its capacious naves,
and the great square in front, became filled ; until the
iron gates closed like a net upon the human " school."
A wondrous sight it must have been ! The raging
crowd pressing on each other, surging and swaying to
and fro to get nearer to the altar ; the priests hurrying
in to don their sacred vestments ; the servants struggling
to light the lamps and candles ; the cries for revenge,
for a leader, for orders ; and the earnest voice of the
Bishop pleading, commanding silence, even to him long,
long in vain ! At length, falling on their knees at the
raising of the sacred relics, they heard his commands
solemnly given, that they should disperse and go to
their homes in peace, nor leave them again that night,
on pain of excommunication. The great gates were
Hung open, and in an hour the stais twinkled over a
city where slumber and silence apparently reigned
supreme.

But, in truth, it was not so. In more tlian one poor
fishers' home there was weeping and wailing for the
(lead, and women were secretly staunching wounds as
best they might, fearful to call in better aid lest it
should betray to the avenging law complicity in the
riots. Even under the very shadow of the cathedral

I i

1 •>•)

Lost Amid the Fogs.

there lay, terribly wounded by a rifle ball in the leg,
a priest, an amiable and highly-respected man. Strange
to say, he was the Eoman Catholic chaplain to the
garrison ; and, doubly anxious to prevent a collision
between the two divisions of his flock brought so
suddenly into antagonistic bearing towards each other,
he had thrown himself upon the rioters in earnest
expostulation, and was unhappily struck down with the
first volley. How many were killed and wounded was
never known ; though that it was far smaller than
might have been anticipated may be understood when
it was reported officially that next day, where the troops
had stood in loading, bullets had been picked up, the
whicli, had Yankees or Frenchmen faced the veterans,
would have found a very different destination. A
strange thing afterwards to think of, that the only
volley the regiment ever fired in anger was the knell
of its own existence.

It was all over, that storm in the fish-kettle; the
winds and waves fell suddenly as they rose, and a great
calm prevailed. The Bishop moreover received, very
happily, his conp-de-grace. Frustrated in all political
moves, and furious at the late occurrences, especially
at the calling out of the troops, ho went down in hot
haste to the Governor, and vented his indignation in
vehement accents. Sir Alexander, a veteran general
in all such matters, received him much as usual, quietly
and courteously ; tapping the well-worn cover of his
Scotch horn, while he listened to the angry ecclesiastic!
denouncing the actions of the authorities.

The Knell from Cathedral Hill.

133

" I won't have my people shot, Sir Alexander ; I tell
you, I tell you, sir, I won't have my people murdered.
1 won't have my priests assassinated in cold blood ! "

" What business had they there, Bishop ? Why
were they not in their proper places, my Lord ? "

" I say, Sir Alexander Bannerman, I won't have them
shot ; I won't have my people murdered. There are eight
thousand men with sealing guns, who swear revenge ;
and last night I had to produce the sacred relics to quiet
them, or they would have come down and torn Govern-
ment House stone by stone from tlic ground ; and it 's
you, I tell ye, Sir Alexander, who may be thankful."

" Thankful for naethiug, Bishop ; for I am weel sure
that if they had thought of it, ye 'd hae sent for Leddy
Bannerman to tlie Nunnery, where they d hae taken
gude care of her."

It was a happy shot, and the last one fired at
lliis remarkable interview, of which the substance by
popular report can alone be recorded. A happy shot,
indeed, which brought down the Bishop at last, as
the Governor predicted, like " an auld pair o' boots."
Lady Bannerman among the nuns ! Lady Bannerman
speaking her honest, plain, straightforward heresy among
those reserved and sacred damsels ! Honor of horrors !
Better fifty priests be shot than that such an evil as
this should be inflicted. For the Bishop well knew,
from })ast hospitable experience, lluit the good lady
was a woman little likely to blink at what she thought
an erroneous state of things, but far more likely to do
an incalculable amount of mischief (or good, as the

134

Lost Amid the Fogs.

case may be) by plain, heart-searching words in cir-
cumstances of honourable provocation. Lady Banner-
man at the convent ! a guest among the nuns ! As
soon would the Bishop had the city powder-magazine
scooped out beneath his cathedral. So the curtain
which rose to solemn tragedy fell on comedy and
laughter ; for we can easily fancy the arch humour
with which the keen old Scotch gentleman told her
Ladyship how he had discomfited the Bishop, and saved
Government House from the sack of those awful eight
thousand retainers, " all armed with sealing guns ! "

It may not be out of place to quote a forcible passage
from a book,* lately published in the United States,
containing the most extraordinary record of faith, mis-
guided enterprise, superstition, ignorance, self-abnega-
tion, and unswerving courage amid unspeakable horrors
ever brought to light.

" Holy Mother Church, linked in sordid wedlock to
governments and thrones, numbered among her servants
a host of the worldly and the proud, whose service to God
was but the service of themselves ; and many, too, who,
in the sophistry of the human heart, thought themselves
true soldiers of heaven, while earthly pride, interest.
and passion, were the life-springs of their zeal. This
mighty Church of Rome, in her imposing march along
the high road of history, heralded as infallible and
divine, astounds the gazing world with prodigies of
contradiction : now the protector of the oppressed, now
the right arm of tyrants; now breathing charity and

* " The Jesuits in North America," by Francis Parkninn.

The Knell from Cathedral Hill.

135

love, now dark with the passions of hell ; now beam-
ing with celestial truth, now masked in hypocrisy and
lies ; now a virgin, now a harlot ; an imperial queen,
and a tinselled actress. Clearly she is of earth, not of
heaven ; and her transcendantly dramatic life is a typo
of the good and ill, the baseness and nobleness, the
foulness and purity, the love and hate, the pride, pas-
sion, truth, falsehood, fierceness, and tenderness, that
battle in the restless heart of man."

This is the verdict on the Romish Church two cen-
turies back. Is the picture in our own time so very
different ?

I I I

CHAPTER X.

THE LAST DUEL IN NEWFOUNDLAND.

HEEE was yet another knell rang forth in
tluit imperious peal from tlie belfry of the
Catholic Cathedral of St John's, at eight
P.M., on the night of the 13tli of May 18G1.
Then jarred on chilled and awestruck ears the warn-
ing-note for the dissolution of the old colonial corps
called the Newfoundland Companies. Their first and
only action with their friends in the principal street of
the city, compromising as it did, in some respects, the
prestige of their discipline and efficiency, proved fatal
to their own life and unity.

It was with the system and not with the soldiers that
the fault lay, and the order for abolishing it was no
doubt Avise and well-timed. Yet it is not to be won-
dered at, when the news came which changed the scarlet
into green, dispersing far and wide so many old com-
rades and acquaintances, there was deep regret among
tlie class in which both officers and men had formed
homes and kindred. Among their betters there were
sighs and lamentations not few nor far between ; for

The Last Duel in Newfoundland.

13^

sage mammas, and briglit-eyetl innocents too, understand
full well how far less valuable is the wandering officer,
who to-day is and to-morrow is gone, to the man who
must perforce make the colony his abiding-place and
liome.

But the fatal day arrived when the transport-pennant,
fluttering on Signal Hill, heralded the Canadian Rifles
steaming up the "Narrows," at the entrance of the
lovely little landlocked harbour. There is nothing of
this old delight left save a few scattered portraits in
some gilt-edged albums, precious and to be loved until
the bright eyes which bend wistfully over them shall
with themselves fade with their freshness away.

It was said before, that, for all public purposes, New-
foundland had made no mark in history ; so neither is
it likely that the history of her martial corps will ever
he historically handed down. Old stories of love, of
virtue, and vice, in varied conflict together, are common
enough in little towns as well as in big ones, at home
us well as in the colonics. I put aside a crowd of such
to pass on to one sad tale connected with the Old Com-
panies, which, as illustrating better than much dry dis-
cursive talk the manners and customs of thirty or forty
years ago in the great fish colony, and as belonging to
a country so utterly untroubled with adventure or sen-
sation as this, may well be preserved.

It is moreover the story of a duel ; let us gladly add
tlie last duel fought in Newfoundland. In those old
times before steam had so rapidly shuffled mankind
together, and blunted the rough edges of some of out-

138

Lost Amid the Fogs,

vices, card -playing was mucli more of a business or
important pastime than it is now. Men did not sit
down in the long evenings of winter only, when a little
unbending or excitement to assist a friendly intercourse
is acceptable ; but they played then summer and winter,
spring and autumn, beginning in the long hours of
morning and ending in the short ones of night. But,
as will be supposed, it required something more than
the sober rubber with a sixpenny point, the feeble
amusement of tlieir degenerate successors, to keep up
the excitement for such a time ; for when these men
pulled off their outer coats and snow-shoes in the hall,
they came for a good cut in at heavy stakes, with a long
wind up at that rattling game the three-card loo, of
Irish origin. If merchants, they staked nothing less
than seal points and a quintal of cod on the rubber,
and many a goodly ship with its costly cargo changed
hands nightly on the turn up of a card. It was merely
the usual excitement of their gambling style of business
carried to perfection in a different channel than the
counting-house and ledger. " Do you see that fine old
gentleman," said a friend, in a mysterious whisper be-
hind his hand, at the very first whist-party to which I
was invited ; " Ah, sir ! that man 's a wonderful follow !
He landed here from Ireland in an old pair of cordu-
roys, with half-a-crown in his pocket, and carved his
fortune out of pure luck. He won at three-card loo ;i
lot of cask staves, and set up as a cooper ; then he won
some tons of seal-oil to fill the casks ; then he won a
schooner which he sent off to the seal-fishery, and she

■1

The Last Duel in Keio/oundland.

139

brought back a thumping trip ; he staked this against a
building yard, won it, played again for a parcel of oil
vats, and won those. So he went on till he had made a
hundred thousand pounds, sir ! yes, sir, a hundred
tliousand pounds ! and all the loose cash in the colony.
Oh, sir ! but he's a dead hand at ' five-and- forty ;' and
if you happen to have a few half sovereigns to spare,
they'll soon find their way into his pocket. But for all
tliat, he's a man risen on the wings of luck by his own
industry, and has filled the highest posts in the Govern-
ment with credit."

'* He has a most benevolent countenance for all that."

" So ho has ; just the sort of benevolence beaming
from it which suits a good tough official ; smile and
promise as much as you please, but precious little
performance. Oh ! his benevolence is the right sort you
rely on it."

" You say he landed here a poor boy. He looks to
me born and bred of a good sort."'

" So he is naturally, no better. Why," added my
confidential friend, " he 's an offshoot of one of the best
families in Ireland. He 's the image of the old Mar-
quis."

"Ah! that accounts for it."

" Yes, sir ; he calls his country-seat after the old place
in Ireland. Ah ! there are plenty of such offshoots
here ; many of them in humble calling, but bearing the
name, and, my word, you can't mistake them ; it 's the
blood plain all over. Did you mark, the other day, that
tall elegant girl who waited on you at the Captain's ?

■i '

fT — T^

140

Lost Amid the Fogs.

I !'

!■

She's a L , dresses ?n stuflFs and prints, while her

first cousins, the very image of her, are maids of honour
to the Queen. But that's just the difference between
the right and wrong side of the hedge, you laiow, and
it 's here we have only the one."

" And is our friend an exception with regard to his
luck in business or play, whichever it is ? '

" Not at all ; why, when you 've been here a little
while, you '11 see men stnggering home at night, half
slewed with rum, dressed in coarse homespun you would
not give to an ostler, who are worth seventy or eighty
thousand, and yet couldn't sign one of them his name.
Those were fortunes made in the good old times. Ah !
those times are gone now 1 "

They were good old times of play at any rate, and of
drinking too. These lusts in a new generation have
sobered down, while we hold in common with the de-
parted the third deep absorbing passion of our race.
]lad Colenso and Hugh Miller, while denying the pos-
sibility of an universal deluge, admitted its force as
applied to the human heart by the passions of love,
hate, and jealousy, they would probably have been
doubly right in their conclusions.

It needs be so in our present story ; for it was known
at that time that in a cottage at the foot of t'
beyond the little bridge which spans V -*"
before it joins the blue expanse of Qui( . iddi, re
peeped ever and anon at passers by froi.. Ijehiim the
crimson blinds the face of a gentle girl, for t love
of whom the acquaintance of two men, which should

The Last Duel in Neicfoiindland.

141

have been almost that of brothers, grew into fierce
jealousy, and on one side at last rottened into madden-
ing hate.

For it takes little enough for hate, once heated in the
breast, to burst into the flame of destruction. So it
happened that on a bright spring night, more than u
generation back, a party of officers assembled in the
messroom of the old Newfoundland Companies in Fort
Townsend. There really was in those days something
like a fort, with prirai>et8 well ditched, and a glacis
stretching around, steep towards the town, and sloping
gently on to the barrens beyond. The great cathedral,
with the twin towers, which, like two fingers pointing
towards heaven, can be seen for many miles around, was
not then built: but the wooden barracks within the
fort were just the same as now, the yellow wash not
stratified quite so thickly on the walls, or the cracks
and crevices admitting so much wind and snow. Among
the group assembled to pass the evening in the usual
way were a Captain Rodman and a Lieutenant Potter,
the principals of this sad tale. Their names are slightly
altered to avoid unnecessary pain to any surviving rela-
tives even at this distance of time, and the outline of
the story will be told much in the very words in which
I have heard it narrated by men who were living wit-
nesses of its principal details.

The snow still lay thickly on the ground in gloomy
corners where the sun's rays could not touch the surface,
and the westerly wind of the chill April night whistling
thr ]1i the old Government buildings made the clieer-

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142

Lost Amid the Fogs.

ful blaze of the crackliug logs doubly agreeable to the
knot of officers and their friends there assembled. In
front of the fire was drawn out a barrack-table covered
with an old red cloth, on which lay scattered, much in
the form of a flight of wild geese in the evening sky, a
greasy pack of cards, veterans in the service for which
they were made. On one side, on another table, were
all the " materials" for brewing whisky-punch, barring
the lemon ; while several bottles of port, at eighteen
shillings a-dozen in those days (now at fifty, and not
80 good), graced the tray as well. The kettle was put
on to tune itself up, chairs were gathered round the red
cloth, sixpences like silver gauntlets were flung into the
centre, and the party set vigorously to woik at a game
of the real old Irish loo, first knave for dealer — the
which game, provided it oe played by gentlemen, has
the merit of being the safest, liveliest, and most sociable
in existence. A prudent player has control over his
ventures and finances, so that it may be played without
hazarding a penny on mere luck, and strictly without
gambling. For a long time all went pleasantly and
well, until, whether from the effects of the toddy, or a
run of foolish ventures, combined with a naturally awk-
ward temper. Lieutenant Potter grew gradually quarrel-
some and unpleasant. He took up his three cards at a
moment when the pool was large, and, replying to the
dealer's question "Will you play?" with a loud "I
will," dashed them back upon the table, with a chuckle
clearly indicative of their value. This conduct, strictly
contrary to the spirit of the game, induced the players

in:

The Last Duel in Newfoundland.

143

i '

to hold back, and to decline playing until Captain
Rodman, the dealer, alone was left to declare. He
looked at his cards ; they were bad ; and he hesitated to
decide whether he would play, to risk forfeiting an equal
sum to that in the pool, or give up the pool without a
struggle.
" Will you play, I say ?" cried Potter fiercely.
Eodman looked again at his cards, and then at the
pool, in which there was quite a heap of shining silver,
the accumulation of many undivided deals. For modest
[(layers the risk of putting in a similar sum was a con-
sideration.

" Will you play ? " cried Potter, with an oath, turn-
ing CO the other players. " This is not fair, I 'm d

if it is."

" Come, old fellow," cried one, " be plucky, and de-
fend the pool, for the sake of the table, you know."

" Gammon, Rodman ! " said another, " don't do any-
thing of the sort ; better give the pool up. "

" Last player always defends the pool," shouted a
third ; when, amid a chorus of voices, who cried yea or
nay to this last assertion —

"I'll play," said Rodman, at last, drawing rather a
licavy breath, as he laid his cards quietly on the table,
and said to Potter —
" How many cards will you take ? "
" One." He threw away the king of diamonds, and
took in the ace of clubs. The ace of spades had turned
up for the trump-card. Rodman rejected two of his
cards, and took the two upper ones of the pack instead ;

» 1

144

Lost Amid the Fogs.

when instantly, amid impatient cries from the table, —
'Now play away," "Two trumps lead one," "Loo
him, Potter," " Play bold," — Potter, looking triumpli-
antly at his adversary, dashed the queen of trumps on
the table. Rodman, who had taken in one good trumj),
capped it with the king ; led the nine of trumps, draw-
ing the four from Potter; then led the eight of diamonds,
drawing the ace of clubs — and won the pool.

" You 're looed," ** You *re looed, Potter," cried tlio
players, excitedly. "In with the pool." "Reckon it
up." " Forty-eight shillings and sixpence." "You're
looed ; who 'd a thought it ? deal away."

" I 'm not looed. " I 'm d if I am ; he cheated, "

cried Potter, in a loud voice, clapping his hand on the
pool.

There was an universal burst of surprise. '* Come,
come, Potter ! don't be a fool, and spoil the fun." " Re-
tract what you said." " You 're looed quite fair,"

" I 'm d if I retract," cried he, violently, sweep-
ing the pool towards his corner. " He did cheat. I '11
swear to it. He drew the king from the pack. It was
the bottom card. I saw it."

A start of surprise thrilled plainly round the
table.

" You saw it, sir ! " said Captain Rodman, quietly ;
" you said you saw it, and said nothing about it, yet
now pretend that I have cheated I "

" Gammon ! " cried the player next to Potter. ** You
are wrong, I tell you — wrong altogether ; and making
bad a confounded times worse. I saw the bottom card

The Last Duel in Neir/oundland.

145
Turn

wliile he dealt ; it was the kuavc, not the king,
up the pack and h)ok."

As tlie speaker said, the bottom card was the knave
of spades, which Potter had evidently mistaken for the
king; thus making his queen (as he thought) with
the ace turned up the best card. It looked now very
bad for Potter. Not only had he wrongly accused a
player of cheating, but, by his own confession, had
seriously compromised himself in the same light. With
another man he might have retreated coarsely and fool-
ishly enough out of the 8cra])e ; but with Hodman his
]>iosent feelings were intermingled with a far deeper
Mut'. and blindly he determinrd to brave it out.

"It's a lie! ad lie! I saw the king, lie's

cheated ; and d me if I give uj) the money."

" Do you really intend what you say, sir ? " said
Piodman, rising.

'• TaKC that, and curse you into the bargain," shouted
the excited idiot, dashing, as he spoke, the hot contents
of his tumbler into the Captain's face.

There was a general start from the table and a shout
of disgust, while Rodman wiped the scalding liquid from
his liice. Reaching down his hat, ho turned to quit the
room, while Potter, barely restrained by two of the
company, rushed forward and made an effort to kick
him as he passed the door. Of course the party broke
up in confusion, but before it separated a message
arrived from (^iptain Rodman requesting Captain
Withers at once to go to his quarters. All knew what
tlmt meant, and Potter, naming his own second,

jI*

146

Lost Amid the Fogs.

snapped his fingers defiantly, and left for his own
quarters.

In those days an apology was a rare thing either to
offer or accept. A duel, if not exactly a common, was
certainly not a very uncommon, occurrence ; and was
looked on by the community in general without that
special abhorrence it now excites. This resulted partly
from a less polished state of society, but more truly by
the indifference caused by the general harmlcssness of
rencontres while flint-mounted weapons were in vogue.
Detonators and revolvers at twelve paces have been the
real pacificators or purifiers of society, at least on our
side of the herring-pond. Still, among the better classes
in Newfoundland, as elsewhere, at that time a strong
feeling against such b.'irbarities lay dormant, requiring
only a stirring tragedy to call its life into action. It
came to their expectations, as we shall sec.

Rodman, who was writing when Captain Withers
arrived to his summons, looked up, and said —

" There 's an end to all cards for me. Withers. If
men cannot play except as brutes and beasts 1 '11 have
nothing more to do with it."

*' Always knew wliat a cussed temper that fellow had ;
but this is quite beyond all bounds."

" Ah ! it 's not the cards ; there 's something besides
that at the bottom of his conduct, which makes me
particularly anxioi to avoid anything public. Perhaps
the f(x>l will come to his senses in the morning, and if
he will write an apology, which can be read before the
party, I 'd better look it over. But "

The Last Dud in Newfoundland.

147

" Apology ! Well, of course you can do as you please;
but when it appears to me a man has been first grossly
insulted, and then kicked, it 's rather late for — eh ? —
apology, eh ? "

" Kicked 1 " shouted Rodman, starting from his chair.
" You mistake, sir ; he never kicked me ! "

" Very true ; he just missed you with his foot because
we held him back as you left the door. But, ma foi,
it 's the same thing, mon cher. Que voulez-vons ? "

Poor Rodman sat down again, passing his hand
heavily across his forehead. " You are right," he said
Jit last, "it's the same thing; we must go out, that's
clear; yet I would have avoided it if I could, but
it 's too much, too much. It will be better that you.
Withers, being in the regiment, should not act. Ask
Strachan to arrange it for me as early as you can to-
morrow; and now, good-night. I have some affairs
to settle."

Somewhere about a mile from the post-office of St
John's, behind the high hill above the town on which
the Catholic cathedral proudly stands, there winds a
deep, sheltered ravine, through which, by dells and
fields and gardens, a joyous, chattering streamlet jiours
its bright waters into the lake beyond, — now over rough
rocks, which crest its course with mimic waterfalls and
snowy flakes of foam, — now gliding swiftly into the little
weir to turn the merry-hunnuing mill-wheel, — now eddy-
ing over stone and pebble, until the air is musical with
soothing sound, — past copse, and wild, and moor, and
under many a little rickety bridge, where boys and trout

; ' i

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148

Lost A mid the Fogs.

play hide-and-seek for hours togetlier on the warm sprinji^
<hiys, — then sweeping boldly into the broad meadow, to
])iizzle the cows with its many curves and folds, until its
throbbings, like the heart of the luunan life, to which it
li.'is so often been compared, cease, in mingling with the
great unknown level beyond. It would almost seem as
if the deep, hill-girdled cup of Quiddi-Viddi (Qui-
Divida) — for so the early Spanish settlers, taking this
as the boundary, named the bright-blue lakelet — was
so fashioned expressly by the hand of Nature, to collect
together for the city the delicious rills bounding off the
mountain's side at every point ; to save them from run-
ning to waste too quickly in the briny, unsympathising
ocean, through the wild fissure cleft in the rocks O'l the
shore, past which the overflowing of the water rushes.
Winding serpent-like among the meadows, across the
slope of the hill, down to one of the bridges, and wind-
ing again up the opposite bank, on which to this very
day a few scattered wind-blown pines sl.md sentinel
over the landscape, we come to a little hollow,
smoothly turfed, and screened from observation by
copse and stream on one side, by cliff and hill upon the
other. It was just the place, of all others about the
town, where the tender buds of the wild azaleas and
calmias, protected from the biting north-easterly winds,
peeped at first shyly, and then pleadetl for life with the
golden sun above. Just such a morning as this of which
we write, — a morning fragrant with loving answer from
the King above, glorious with resurrection, restoration,
beauty, life, and health, — a morning for eick creatures

The Last Duel in Newfoundland.

14!)

to throw open casements long scaled by winter's frost,
and expand their hings to the full with the soft southerly
breeze, — a morning for lovers to walk with linked arms
through the shady fir-groves, carpeted with the dead
leaves of a hundred summers ; for children to run wild
with joy about the sprouting meadows ; for old folks to
stand and dream lazily over the misty memories of many
such bygone delights; but not a morning, of all morn-
ings, for two men, brothers j)rofessionally as well, to
stand opposite each other with deadly thoughts of blood
and murder. Yet so it was that here, concealed from
all but the eye of Heaven, stood quiet and calm Cap-
tain Rodman on one hand, placed with his back to the
sun by his second, Dr Strachan ; and, on the other,
Lieutenant Potter, still highly excited, and with an eyti
gleaming bitter enmity on his opponent. Potter was
attended by the commander of a small man-of-war
yacht, and was j>laced right opposite the full bliixe of
the sun.

Very coolly and j)lea.santly did the less- interested
functionaries perform their i)art of the proceedings.
With an amicable nod Dr Strachan placed the pistols
behind his back, and having handed to Captaifi Fisher
the one selected, they proceedeil to place the weapons in
the hands of the principals.

" I tell you again. Hodman," cried the Doctor, in a
hurried whisper, " you have but one chance for your
life: lire quick. He is a dead shot, they say, and looks
iiell at you. If he miss }ou once, he may not a second
lime."

1 .

tt-

150

Lost Amid the Fogs.

** I will not fire at him," said Rodman ; "he is a
widow's son. I desire only to satisfy my own honour."

" You are a madman, then."

"Are you ready, gentlemen?" sang out the clear
tones of Captain Fisher ; " very good. I will say one,
two, three ; and when I drop my handkerchief— fire."

Covering his man most carefully, at the instant the
words were spoken, Potter fired and missed. His ball
just grazed the collar of Captain Rodman's coat, when
the latter raised his weapon and fired in the air.

"Load again, I .say! — load again!" cried Potter,
with the voice of a baffled demon. " I '11 shoot "

" No, no, sir ! that is not for you to decide. Fisher,
I think this matter ought now to be arranged."

" Certainly," said Captain Fisher ; " I see no reason
why it should not be. My principal will leave "

" I insist upon having another shot ! I will not settle
it ! " shouted Potter, with an oath. " He called me
here ; not I him. I say I have a right to as many shots
as I please."

Dr Strachan approached Captain Rodman, and said —

" What shall I do? The man is beside himself. Arc
you satisfied on your part ? "

" Yes, I am. I don't want to injure him. I was
obliged to call him out, you can tell him, to vindicate
my own honour, but I shall now be glad to drop it."

•' He called me out, I repeat," shouted the angry
man, lashing himself into fury at the hesitation ; *' and

T have a right to my turn. Why the h don't you

load the pistols."

The Last Duel in Newfoundland.

151

The seconds consulted again. " I fear," said Captain
Fisher, " we must give in to his argument, eh ? "

" Is it of no use ? My principal was obliged to call
him out, and has fired in tlie air. Surely that ought to
satisfy him."

" You see the state he is in. We cannot deny his
argument. I fear we must load."

So the fatal weapons were placed again in the hands
of the combatants with the same precautionary notice,
while Strachan w]iisj)crcd hurriedly to Eodnian, " I tell
you, unless you wing him first, you are a dead man."
In less than a quarter of a minute the signal was given,
and at that instant Potter sprang at least his own height
into the air, discharging his own pistol wildly as he
rose. Shot right through the heart, he fell back u})ou
the young spring turf without a word or gasp — dead —
dead.

" He would have it," said Fisher. *' God help him,
poor fellow ! Is he really gone, Doctor ? ''

" Gone ! " said Strachan. " Gone ! not a doubt of
it. Heart shot right through, I suppose. How terrible !
I acquit you Hodman ; I do, from my soul. You fireJ
this time to save your own life. We must think o
ourselves now. Heavens 1 " he sighed, while wiping the
frothy lips of the dead man, and looking upward at the
soft blue sky, " What a morning for such work as
this!"

" Cover him with your cloak, Strachan," said Captain
Fisher, " and let us gain time to conceal ourselves. I
will let them know at Fort Townsend that there has

!il|^

1 L

!) ^

152

Lost AmUl the Fogs.

been an accident, and they will send out a party, no
doubt. How ghastly it looks ! they will soon see that
dark blotch on the grass. Now, begone. You know
where to."

Strachan nodded, and passing his arm through that
of Captain Rodman, hurried oft' the ground. Honour
or no honour, now, when too late, what would he not
have given to have undone the work of the last hour ?

In less than an hour a party of soldiers might have
been seen swarming over the wooden bridge at the head
of the valley, and scattering in all directions over the
grassy meadow which leads towards the sentinel jjines
on the crest of the opposite hill. In a few minutes a
loud shout proclaimed their search successful, and they
were soon seen carrying gently along the body of tlio
miserable man who had just paid so terrible a penalty
for passion and folly. As they passed up the slope
towards the fort, numbers of ])eople swelled the proces-
sion, and curses were loudly heaped on Rodman's head,
the more when it was known that he had been the chal-
lenger. Most likely had he merely winged the dead
man, or had the duel resulted harmlessly, there would
scarcely have been a talk about it. Rut because the
bullet had gone an inch or two out of the ordinary line,
and struck a vital part (as if such a contingency in
duelling had been quite lo.st sight of), the popular feel-
ing in favour of the victim bubbled up and boiled over.
It was on this account well that, for the first day or
two, Captain Rodman remained cache; but it was
known before the end of the week, that, partly miserable

The Last Duel in Newfoundland.

15:i

with his own tlioughts in solitude, and partly on account
of hearing that Dr Strachan had been arrested, he had
surrendered himself voluntarily into the hands of
justice.

There was yet another spectacle, the most solemn of
nil, to be beheld before the tide of feeling turned, and
the truth began to be better understood. Three days
iifter the duel, a vast crowd had assembled before the
gates of Fort Townsend, between which, heralded by
tiie muffled drums and the reverberations of the dead
march, were seen issuing the remains of the young
officer prematurely dead. As the slow procession filed
down the steep slope of Garrison Hill, it was joined at
each corner of the streets by many hundreds of aW
classes ; until, in the old churchyard in front of the
rectory, where now stands the English Cathedral, were
(;ollected a great part of the population of St John's,
to witness the ceremony which deposited the dust, of
what was hearty life and health among them three days
before, to mingle with its kindred dust. The poor fel-
low whose remains were there laid in earth had friends,
of course, among this motley crowd ; but it was mainly
the universal horror which had arisen in all hearts,
aided by the reverberating volleys of musketry, re-echo-
ing on the spot into each palpitating heart the cause of
death — sudden uncompromising death — which filled
each living listener with dread, and did much to put a
veto on all such future deeds in this colony. The early
grave was filled in, the last covering sod placed over,
the last toll of the melancholy knell struck on the

i ii 1

154

Lost Amid the Fogs.

wounded car; the crowd duly scattered, each to hia
tent, with words of grief and pity ; and then, as usual,
the other side of the story began to circulate, and a
feeling of sympathy and pity to react in favour of tlio
survivor of the wretched drama.

But though the good folk of Fish-and-fog-land soon
began to reason fairly enough, yet the causes which in-
fluenced the ebbing tide of poi)ular opinion to run swift
as a mill-course in favour of the prisoners, were due to
the extraordinary indiscretion of one of the great autho-
rities of the community. Captain Hodman and his
seconds were duly committed to take their trials for tlio
crime of wilful murder, and although nothing could be
fairer than this trial so far as the prosecution under tlio
crown was concerned, luckily, as it resulted for tlio
prisoners, though very much the reverse for the dignity
of justice, the presiding judge threw the enormous
weight of his own personal feeling and bias into the
scale against them. The sifted detail of the circum-
stances which led to the violent sudden death of the
young officer, left a favourable impression on the minds
of the listeners towards the prisoners at the bar ; yet, to
the great surprise of the public, the judge summed u[»
with extreme virulence against them ; and after charg-
ing the jury and bidding them retire to consider their
verdict, he was observed, even by them, conspicuously
to turn down the pages of the great book which recorded
the last read sentence of the law, and to index the
place, ready to pronounce from it the awful form as
there prescribed. It need hardly be said that the

The Last Duel in Neirfonndkmd.

155

court-house of St John's was crammed to suffocation,
while its doors and walls outside were besieged by Iniii-
(Ireds unable to enter. The serious nature of the crime,
the possible consequences which might result, the well-
known bitterness of the judge, and the rank of the
accused, raised an unaccustomed interest within those
walls, where bright echo itself, for weary years, had
grown dull in catching monotonous pleadings to prove
that salmon and herring are not "fish" in the eye of
the law, on a wrangle over a broken head, a violated
contract, or the roblx?ry of a cabbage-garden. Still the
glad spring sun, dyeing the long windows with his
fjolden flood, sunk lower and lower in the west, while
the door of the jury-room yet remained closed and
guarded. But for the charging of the judge after the
evidence, no doubt existctl as to what the verdict would
liave been, for until that moment the jurymen, honest,
plain, unsophisticated planters, wore their opinions
plainly in their faces ; but their continued absence
proved the counter influence sprung up, and who could
foresee the result ? At length — i\\\ ! what a thrill it
sent through the beating hearts of the spectators, and
made the hot faces of the prisoners in the dock blanch
with sudden dread — the tinkle of a little bell is heard,
and then one by one the jurymen filed into coint.
Solemnly rose the clerk, and cried with a loud voice —
no need for that, for the chirp of a canary would hav(;
sounded like an organ —

" Gentlemen of the jur}', are you agreed as to your
verdict?"

\r,c

Lost Amid the Fogs.

' We are."

" How say you then ? Are the prisoners at the bar
f^uilty or not guilty ? "

" Guilty — but without malice."

Down came the large, bony hand of the judge ufion
the desk, making its very framework quiver under the
blow, while his stilF wig trembled with the agitation
bnbbling beneatli, as his long form dilated up and up.

" What verdict is that?" cried he, stedfastly eyeing
the abashed foreman ; *' what verdict is that, 1 say, sir,
you ask me to record ? Who desired you to give an
•►pinion other tlian guilty or not guilty ? Did yon
listen to my charge, wherein I clearly laid down what
shooting a man in cold blood was? Go back to your
room, and find a verdict in accordance with the law
which you have heard expounded, or 1 11 keep you tliero
until you do." And the book with the fatal mark,
wjiich had been opened for business, was again closel,
still duly indexed.

Then rose the connsel for the prisoners, along-headed,
clever man — (wiiat a thing that is to have on watcli
at such a crisis of life or death) ! — and looking at tlie
angry jndge, while the jr.ry })aused, lir.lf angrily, half
doubtfully, and all ears were strained to cutch his words,
said —

" My Jjord, 1 beg your Lordship's pardon, but 1 must
ask "

" Well, sir — what — what is it?"

" 1 must ask, my Lord, that you will be pleased to
record the verdict just given by the jury."

The Last Duel in Newfoundhwh

157

" Record it, sir ! Certainly not. It is no verdict Jit
all. I have refused it."

" I beg your Lordship's pardon, but I must maintain
that it is a verdict ; and that a verdict of guilty without
malice is a verdict of not guilty of murder, which needs
malice or aforethought. It is not possible for the jury
to bring in a verdict of guilty now."

" To your room instantly, gentlemen," cried again the
enraged judge, turning round to the jiu'ymen lingering
on the threshold. " Retire instantlv, and reconsider
vour verdict accordinijr to the law I have laid down."

" Very well, my Lord ; but I nmst respectfully enter
my protest against your Lordshi[)'s decision for future
argument."

It was never needed that future discussion. Happily
the lingering jury had caught the argument of the
counsel, and in less than ten miiiutes the tinkle of the
boll was again heard.

" Are you now agreed, gentlemen," solemnly ^poki'
the clerk.

" We are," replied the foreman, boldly and loudly.

" How say you now? Are the prisoners at the bar
guilty or not guilty ? "

" Not guilty." The words were scarce out of his
mouth when a burst of ajjpiause, like the rush of a
sliding avalanche, /ent the c()urt-hous(>, and th(»
vibrating waves of stormy sound milled tin' very wig
of the judge as they tore confusedly along. Heavily
came down th(^ hand once more on the desk, as with a
voice of thunder he roared —

\ 1

158 Lost Amid the Foys.

"I'll commit the first — clerk of the court — silence
— disgraceful — insult to justice — commit "

lie might as well have roared to the winds of heaven.
Leaping over the barriers, throwing open the doors,
l)U8hing aside the koopcrs and constables, tlie multitmh;
rushed pell-mell into the dock, and lifting Hodman and
the other prisoners on their shoulders, bore them
triumphantly along to receive an ovation from the
crowd outside. Then arose a yell of ringing acclama-
tions, seldom heard save from lusty JJritish throats, llii'
roar of whicii might almost have caused the bones oi
the dead man, lying not iav off, to rustle and shiver in
their bed. They carried Hodman up Garrison Hill,
back to his barracks in Fort Townsend, in triumphant
procession ; and that night St tJohn's celebrateil the
.stirring events of the trial and the esca|>e of the
prisoners in full libations of rum-punch or whisky-
toddy. Alack ! for the applause, for the discernment oi
mobs, fur tlic certainty of hunuui discretion or wisdom!
Had the Judge been a temperate, (tr even a cunninu'
man, the prisoners, at the moment the j)eople were
toasting tiiem to the skies, might have been under
Mciitenct' of death in prison, or, at least, condemned to
heavy bonds and nii;serable servitude for many years
of life.

pM'tter as it was, lor the punishment (if any were

'i'(l) of the soul was hurder yet to bcKi .tnd lollowid
ijuickly enoupti. Th.- dortor died «jtf consum{>tion wilhiii
a year, the diseMMi probably ju'ccltr.ited Ity tin- sliarji

liodman b. ;;iiic a druupiitu

ordeal he had uudergoue

■«' ' ■ I ' ■•?

IVie Last Duel in Newfoundland,

159

spirit, and soon after left the Old Royal Companies.
All that is really known of him is the fact, that his first
;ict on reaching England was to seek out the mother
(if his unfortunate adversary, and make a provision for
hor necessities from his own slender income. It is not
ilifticult to imagine what must have heen the tender
;ind acute feelings of a man who could act in this way,
in reflecting upon that miserable j)as8age of a half-
wasted life.

This is the pith of a sad tale of Newfoundland ; one
of its few traditionary stories, well-nigh forgotten, save
liy a few of the older residents of St John's. For many
yi'.'U's after it occurred the road running across the
stream was avoided after nightfall. For, at a point
close to the wooden bridge, where a latticed cottage
once stood, and where it was said Hodman's horse
shied three times on his way to the duel, and refused
resolutely to go on, the restless ghost of the dead soldier
was said to Hit about, with one single blood-red spot
upon his brea.st, which stn)erstiti()u said was shaped
like the ace of hearts. iJut now the momorv of ibat
Mpulchral tale has likewise vanished, and the latticed
(iittage, the abode of much love-begotten sorrow, is
i;i>iie too. All down the road other pretty cotdiges
here and there have started up, fronted by little
l^anlens, in sunnner redolent of llowers, and bordered
liy meadows, where the ujowers in the hot August days
nap and turn the long bending grass. Yet ever and
iiiion, as some ancient while-bearded resident of the
place saunters hlowly along the pleasant road with wife or

IfiO

Lost A mid the Fogs.

grandchildren in a Sabbath eveninj]f stroll, he will point
to the pines still standing guard on the hill top, and
say, " Yes, do you remember, dear, that is the very
spot where the young officer was shot." And the glad
rivulet leaps along close by merrily as ever, tempting tlic
children to run from the old man's side and dip their
feet in its laughing waters; and raising, all the winding;
way between the heights of Three Pond Barrens a ml
the blue lake near the sea, misty ghosts of its own for
the fresh winds of ocean to chase away each morning.
It says — oil! how plainly — to the saunterers on its
banks, " For men may come, and men may go, but

1 " Ah! plaintive little river! would indeed the

" (or ever " of the poet's boast were true even for thee.
But surely, as the purity of thy sparkling waters wore
once blood-stained and dishonoured, so surely must tlie
change, common to all things of earth, touch even tliy
rocky bed and flowering banks at last.

ii I

wmr' I

CHAPTER XI.

THE ANGLICAN BRANCH OI' THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.

IHO is that ? " remarked the author of these
humble sketclies to his friend Nathaniel,
as tliey stroHed toiijether througli the by-
streets of the city of 8t Jolin's. Nathaniel,
on passing by tiie entrance of a narrow dirty hme, had
Hfted his hat witii much respect to a j^entlemau comin<?
out of a poverty-stricken cottage. The stranger wore
the look of a man of some sixty years, and was dressed
with scrupulous care, in black greatcoat, gaiters, and
broad-brimmed hat. He returned my friend's salute
most courteously, and began picking his way across the
muck and slush of an April thaw to another cottage
opposite. Then, as we lost sight of him, my friend
Nathaniel stretched out his honest broad hand, and
cried —

" My, my ! I protest ! and you not to know ! Well,
well ! Why, that 's the Bishop 1 "

" The Bishop ! " I muttered, aghast ; for »iy thoughts
reverted natiirally to the proud towers on Cathedral
Hill.

U\2

Lost Amid the Fogs.

"Yes! THE Bishop— THE Bishop of Newfoundland —
our Bishop. He arrived from Bermuda in the last
packet. You '11 soon know him ; and when you do,
you '11 never have known a better man."

2'he Bishop! I saw it all now. There are Avons
and Avons in En<?land, and there are bishops and
bishops in Fish-and-fog-land. Only a few eveninji^s
back Wolfe and I, returning? from our evening stroll
tlirough Water Strjet, heard the broker's wife say, amid
a gush of greetings, to the bankers: " Yes, my dear ;
William 's just seen his Lordship, and says he 's looking
very well indeed." And again, that same evening, jtjsl
as we reached Wolfe's louse, frr)m an opposite gate there
rushed out ujjon us tui ..iltuously a group of rosy-cheeked,
cruciferous young ladies, who, flushed with some excit-
ing news, all cried together —

"Oh, it's so nice! Have you heard the Hislioji's

No! stupid staid old fogies that we were, we actually
liad not hoard the BisJK.p was come, and of course re-
ceived the amount of contempt from the fla.shing eyes
we merited.

Bui there were other sources from which tiie evideueo
of his Lordship's ])opularity among the fair ra[)idly ac-
cumulated. Presiding over the destinies of the })retty
little farm on the bank of the lake close by, was a worthy
woman named Joslyn — her real name; for, as all tl' it
has ever been known of her is honest, true, and good, 1
can see no reason lor concealing her identity, iler hus-
band, a sterling Uevoushire yeoman, was there as well ,

The AiifjUcan Branch of the Catholic Church. ]()3

but, to all practical intents and purposes, was really
nowhere. Mrs Joss was gray mare ; and a better never
stepped. It was she who received her visitors, arranged
the picnics, secured the band, sold the poultry and early
vegetables (no such to be jn'ocured elsewhere), took the
butter and clotted cream from house to house, scolded
the maids, made the pies and pastry for the evening-
)»nrties, and kept the neighbourhood alive with the raj)id
yet cheery clapper of a marvellous power of tongue. Jt
was always a treat to visit the farm-house at the end of
our evening stroll— sure of finding, on entering the
])retty hop-clustered porch, the cheerful housewife ready
with a cup of tea. redolent of knotty cream, and a hearty
welcome, whicn was even the better entertainment of
two such good things. On such an occasion as this —
one of many — we were sitting round her kitchen-table,
while the goodwife was cutting into a home-made loaf,
iitid offering slices of it spread with the Ireshest butter
such as there was no refusing, wlien some one said :
"Ah, Mrs Joslvn ! no fresh butter for us this last
month — n'"" a pat! Now the Uisliojt's come, it all
goes there, no doubt I "

"Oh, sir ! Well, 1 "m sure ! to think oi that !— and
tlie cows, poor things I fed on turnips and luiy, will not
give the milk; and how < an 1 .^upjily customers if I
"ANT get the milk"'^ I'.nl the Uisliop, sir!— no, sir;
U'n a bit of fr»'«h laitter does his Lordsiiip have of me,
nor from no one else, I in sure. He wouldn t afford ii,
'^ir, Wouldn't his Lordship — to spend it on hisself, that
is. There 's Mis J have a pat of fresh butter every

164

Lout Amid the Fogs.

Wednesdny, and she have his Lordship to tea reg'lar ;

and Mrs M , she have his Lordsliip to tea of a Friday

rej^'iar, and rej^'lar lias a j)at of fresh hutter, too ; ajici
1 'm particklar in seein*:^ it is fresh, 1 do assure you, sir.
And Joss, he likes a hit of fresh now and then, when I
can spare it, he does. But the Bishop, sir ! — he take
fresh butter at such a price for his own self ! Oh, no,
sir ; never — not now, sir ! He 's got a plenty of good
uses for his money; and if all bishops was like him,

sir . And will you please take another cup o' tea,

gentlemen? there's a plenty in the pot, and welcome."

Thus, as it flitted across my foggy thoughts that
there must be something uncommon about a man who
thus conmianded the admiration and respect of sober
folks, and impassioned girlhood alike, my friend Natha-
niel, stopping before a long oblong stone edifice, said —

*' How glad the Bishop must bo to be again in his
own church, for you know he built this cathedral ! "

" He was not fortunate in the site, at any rate."

'* No ! Why ? what ? eh ! I protest ! what do you
find fault with ? "

" Simply that if you put a long building aligning
the contour of a steep slope, it must look lopsided and
ungainly. Then, you see, the front, which is good, does
not face the harbour, — very unlike the plan adopted by
the clever llomans, towering above us. Now, I am
sure that any stranger entering the Narrows, and taking
that long, blank, buttressed wall for a military etore-
house, might be forgiven, eh ? "

" My ! my 1 " said my friend, every hair on his head

Tlic Anglican Branch of the Catholic Church. Kif)

bristling with honest indignation. " I protest, if his
Lordship heard you, I wouldn't be you. But come,
there 's the verger just unlocking the doors for even-
ing-service ; let us go inside and see what you say to
that."

We entered the sacred ])ortal8, and as we jwissed
down the long aisle towards the altar, the echo of our
steps reverberated gently and solemnly through tho
empty house of w ship. The sober fittings, the open
pews with their plain dark oak carvings, the long mid
elegant lancelets of the west window, the soft dreamy
light, chequered and filtered by \a\\\ stone columns on
cither side of the aisle ; each in its own a])j)ropriateness
redeemed in a great measure the error of the e.xterior
site. But it was when we stood before the altar that
my good friend's ire again rose high. There was no
cast window. The walls of tho concave, holding the
communion-table, were painted blue and bedabbled
nith' golden stars ; while uncouth texts, scrolled and
j^arnished round the cornices, tormented the weary eyes
with undecipherable scarlet letters.

As I spoke no wor«l of admiration, Nathaniel laid
liis hand impressively on my shoulder, and whispered
Hc'pulchrally, as no doubt was becoming —

" Not yet finished, you see. The funds ran out, and
the Bi.shop "

" Shut out the light and illuminated the place him-
self. Do you think he has succeeded P "

At which rebellious speech the good fellow cast his
hand above his head, and crying, " Well now, 1 protest.

I is

KiC)

Lnsl Amid the FofjA.

I will not hear another word," marched straight out of
the cathedral.

1 did not wonder at his vehemence, for I knew li(>
loved liifi friend. In truth, it was not long before I
found the good Bishop was either loved or respected l»y
the whole (.'onmiunity. Of lovo, what can one say?
The thing is like the Cliian wino of old, flavoured to
him who drinks it. Hut for this, too, and all else
he8i«les, the secret simply liiy in a conviction now
rooted firmly, hut long time struggling for growth in
a rocky ungcnial soil, that in striving after the glory of
his Master and the good of his fellows, the man had
forgotten his own self and his own pleasure. He had
in as nuich as he couhl oheved that Divine vet hard
command, to forsake iiis own house, his own comforts,
his own belongings, to follow, amid much opportunity
for the daz/.ling things of earth, a self-denying path-
way.' That path men saw that he kept straight towards
his end, doing the allotted work along its narrow sides
nobly, honestly, to all ; without fear or aftection undue
to any. It was said of him that he had engaged in the
labour not willingly; but that, having accepted it, lie
took up the burden and heat of the day at once, calling
oi) and expecting others in his vineyard to do likewise ;
and though men often complained that he was a hard
uncompromising ruler, yet no one ever cried that ho
was unjust. It was, in truth, not difficult to imagine
that he was stern in business matters ; nor to under-
stand, on looking at those clear deep- set eyes, at the
small compressed lips, and at the firm expression

77(!C Anfjlican Branch of the Catholic Church. \iu

reflective of the cast of the inner man, how tlmt a
rcsohition once formed was rarely set aside. " lie 's a
man of cast iron ; you mijjjlit as well try to bend a
crowbar," his clorj^y cried in the streets of him in
former days. True enou<j;h, when he felt himself in
the right, thou^^h they thought not: and yet the time
came to him and to them, when they at length knew
this iron num had a heart, in wliieh the seeds of love,
and peace, and goodwill to nu-n, daily brought forth the
fruits of a true and holy life.

For long before the Bishop came to Fi.^h-and- fog-
land, he in the great battle of life had, greatly rejoicing,
cast his lot in a pleasant place. It is jmssiblc that no
two |)eople on earth, if suddenly asked to choose the
happiest positiou which man could occupy in this vale
of tears, could agree together. It is not easy to fix
exactly the jioint where, safely removed fntm biting
poverty, the cares of riches cease to clog, and (;ause it
to be said that it mav be hard for such and such a
man to enter the kingdom. Some would place their
faith in chariots and horses, some in the contentment of
the little C(tttnge beneath the hill. The range of choice,
with thousands of intervening desires and opportunities,
may be vast indeed. Yet, if it were suggested to many
a puzzled thinker, that the happy medium miglit lie in
the life of a country rector in the heart of merrie i'^ng-
land; that the smoke of that English par.-^onage might
bo seen for miles in such a vale as where the soft Wye
winds in crimson reaches toward the western Severn,
where Pope called on his honest muse to rise and sing

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168

Lost Amid the Fogs.

the " Man of Ross ; " there to serve God in making
others love His Name ; there to live apart from the
jars, the dirt, the tumult of cities ; — many, indeed,
might cry, " Yes, there ; there it is ; thus and thus
we would choose to live." Even so, men said, had it
been with our Bishop ; nor did they wonder, when first
it was proposed to him to give up that happy path-
way, to quit for ever his apple-blossomed river, to
root up all his tender plants, to go and dwell in Fish-
and-fog-land, even as "Lord Bishop," yet amid the
dreary barrenness of some earthly, and nearly all spiri-
tual things, he should have gently, yet truly, pleaded
the nolo Episcopari. But, happily for the snow-land
across the Atlantic, the matter was pressed on him by
those who knew the worth of the man, until perhaps he
may have looked at it as a call to go and do His work ;
or, in the noble language of Archbishop Trench, when
writing to a friend entering the ministry —

" Oh ! let us not this thought allow —
The heat, the dust upon our brow,

Signs of the contest, we may wear ;
But thus we shall appear more fair

To our Almighty Master's eye,
Than if in fear to lose the bloom,
Or ruffle the soul's lightest plume.

We from the strife should fly."

Thus it came to pass that a quarter of a century ago
there landed on these shores a man destined to exercise
a vast future influence in the spread of Christianity
among the flocks who, scattered widely in bays, villages,

iS«

The Anglican Branch of the Catholic Church. 169

settlements, and coves, for hundreds of miles round the
coast, found henceforth a central pivot in his ceaseless
labours at the capital. Yet, for all that, the new
Bishop's commencement with his people was not au-
spicious. Long before his arrival rumour had bespoken
his worth and zeal ; and the Protestant body, at the
annual meeting of the Bible Society, voted that the
vacant place of President should be reserved for him.
Soon after landing, he was, of course, duly made ac-
quainted with the proposed compliment, if that, indeed,
be the proper term ; but, to the great mortification and
surprise of the Protestant community, he, after reflec-
tion, declined it. Of course it is well known that the
Bible Society is not exclusively the organ of the Church
of England, but embraces in its fold all Protestant
sects, who here meet annually on common ground, and
cast aside their minor prejudices in the general acknow-
ledgment and absorption of the one great truth. But
the Bishop declined its leadership, and it fell like an
unexpected knell on the hearts of a community who
had already a desperate outward struggle for the mas-
tery Avith the vast majority of their Papist fellow-
townsmen. Men lamented loudly that the new Bishop,
even if consistent to his own views, had made here a
terrible mistake; for they cried for unity as regards
religion, the more so indeed as unhappily, by party
strife, their religious and political positions could not
be separated. With unity, and a conciliation of their
dissenting brethren, amounting only to a meeting of
Christian men once a year on the same platform for

i 1

!^rfES:

170

Lost Amid the Fogs.

the support of their common standard, much might
have been done ; great, they said, might have been the
influence of a man of the stamp and character of the
Bishop among the pastors of the closely allied flocks.
It is not for us to judge the motives of such a man,
even though we regret that decision ; and regret the
more from noticing that from that moment his patli
of duty, always difficult enough, became vastly more
thorny from the suspicions excited among the Ljw
Church section of his own flock. In truth, the battle-
flag of revolt was raised soon after ; and there was but
little the Bishop said or did but what was scanned and
criticised, often unfaiiy enough. That battle, long
contested, is happily now over; the victory remains
with the Bishop, but the wounds in some spots can
never entirely close. For many years he was distrusted
by a large section of Protestants ; but as they rolled on
he won, by his uprightness, modesty, and piety, at least
the esteem of all classes ; for against such things men
found that there was no law, no cavilling. Yet that the
controversy ran high, and waxed sore, may be remem-
bered from the fact that on one occasion it unshipped a
Governor who unwisely, in all senses of the word,
measured his official strength with the Church ; and
that, as was said before, it left scars deep and scarcely
to be healed, may be understood by reading the follow-
ing lines from the pen of one of the highest officials
of the Government, a gentleman now holding a high
appointment elsewhere, and who perhaps deeply regrets
the day when he ordered his publisher to disseminate

Tlie Anglican Branch of the Catholic Church. 171

through Fish-and-fog-land the pink pamphlet full of
language of which one specimen will suffice us.

" But I had almost forgotten that your Lordship,
with a degree of affectionate bitterness (for which, if I
seem feebly to reciprocate it, I trust your Lordship
will grant me absolution), has invited me 'kindly to
suggest a rule' for ' your guidance,' which 'less savours
of party,' and 'you will consider it.' I know I ought
not in common courtesy to decline the invitation ; t\nd I
could suggest a rule whicli, had your Lordship adopted
and acted on heretofore, would eminently have tended
to the prevention of party and division among us. But
as I fear it is hopeless to expect your Lordship ever to
restrain your feelings, or distrust your judgment, when
under the influence of a temptation which so frequently
assails your Lordship, I forbear."

Now, when it is stated that this letter was circulated
because a sermon in one of the churches was preached in
a white instead of in a black gown, and that, moreover,
the Bishop had written to the heated official, protesting
" that the surplice had not been used, and ought not
to be regarded as the badge of any party in this diocese,
and that he desired to set his own conduct above the
suspicion of any party views or purpose,' it will be
admitted that the Episcopal lines had not fallen in
pleasant places ; and that he fairly might (had he been
of that stufl') have looked back with regret to the
sunny banks of Avon, after putting his hand to the
plough on this ungrateful soil. Miserable as has been
the strife between the two great sections of the Englisli

' .'■

■I: ; |l

■•:» ■ I .

172

Lost Amid the Fogs.

Church during the last twenty years, our present
question is, How does her mission succeed here ? What
fruit does the little colonial offshoot of the great parent
vine produce ? We look for grapes ; but, alas ! we ^shall
find little but wild grapes, yet these in a garden which
certainly yields to no place on earth for the heat and
fervour of its religious zeal. There is a test, however,
by which we may judge of the result of the Church's
influence fairly enough, — the state of the funds of the
Church Society of the community. This body was
promoted by the Bishop mainly for the purpose of
receiving the collected subscriptions of the flock all
through Fish-and-fog-land, in order that from these
funds, independently of building churches and schools
throughout the diocese, the stipends of the clergy might
be regularly met. Anterior to the formation of the
society each clergyman collected among his flock what
he could for himself; being, therefore, entirely de-
pendent on their goodwill (in addition to the little
assistance yielded by the S. P. G.) ; a fact productive
of evil and inconvenience where God's Word required
the whole truth to be fearlessly spoken. If influence,
personal and affectionate, could have worked success
for the society ; if example of piety and self-denial had
their due use and effect ; if a light which could not but
be set on a hill could have illumined the darkness of
men's charities, then the whole tenor of the good Bishop's
life should have filled the coffers of the society to over-
flowing. Yet year by year the Bishop has to go down
to the annual meeting, and sorrowfully announce the

i^BiP

The Anglican Branch of the Catholic Church. 173

amount of the subscriptions, in a place where the ex-
ports and imports of commerce amount to more than
three millions (the greater part of which is in the hands
of Protestants), to be sometliing over or under £800!
dividing some £40 or £50 a-year among a number of
half-star i'ed clergymen, God save the mark ! and leaving
a pitiful balance in his hands for churches and parson-
ages. It is a dreadful contrast to the princely revenues
of the other great Bishop on the hill, computed at about
£20,000 a-year. Yet it is not that the men of New-
foundland are misers ; far from it. It arises, independ-
ently in a certain degree from the bad fisheries, from
the fact that the services of the Church of England,
unsuited to the wants of this generation in a large
measure, and especially to the case of the poor, have
no longer that hold on the people as to impress them
with the necessity for, or value of her ministrations.
This is not the place to discuss the reasons why ; but
the fact remains, that miserable are the pittances which
the rectors and curates of the parishes of Newfoundland,
chiefly lying along the extended coast line, enjoy. The
word is not used ironically — heaven forbid ! Enough to
keep body and soul together, on the coarsest food and
with the humblest raiment, is in most cases their lot in
this world. Yet, in the faces of all the men I saw
engaged in this work, contentment and peace were un-
mistakably stamped. Nor is it alone to poor living,
mere absence of comfort, their hard lot extends. This
might be borne amid humble domestic joys, and a
circle of duty close at hand ; but that circle extends

174

Lost Amid the Fogs.

for decades upon decades of weary inhospitable miles,
from fishing-cove to fishing-cove, where the Sunday-
services come round to each once in so many weeks or
months. Upon the instant must the parson rouse and
trudge through snow and ice, no matter the weather,
no matter the distance, on a summons from a parish-
ioner; for though his task be one of hearty love and
goodwill, he knows any want of alacrity would speedily
bring the priest, ever on the watch, to the sick person's
bedside. With wallet on back, amid the dreary winter,
he turns away from his modest roof, and departs, it may
be for a month or more, on a tour through his wide
district (parish is a ridiculous term), obtaining a lift
here or there, or the chance of a ferry across a lake ;
sleeping in the fishermen's huts, amid fry of all sorts,
where cleanliness and comfort may be things almost
unknown. Yet the welcome they have to offer, with
little more than a cup of tea and bit of salt cod, is
given heartily. The good old minister of St Thomas,
our garrison chaplain, for many years missionary in
the roughest and wildest parts of the colony, used to
say that never but on one occasion had he been re-
ceived churlishly, or indeed without pleasure, when
seeking shelter either from Eoman Catholics or Pro-
testants.

Yes, we may say of both persuasions, such men are
truly iiiissionaries, from the Bishop to his youngest
curate. Nor is the title written without a little reserve,
inasmuch as it is one but little honoured among a large
number of thinking men at home.

It is well known

The Anglican Branch of the Catholic Church. 175

tlitat there have been seen in our colonies men, so called
indeed, yet often little worthy of the apostolic standard ;
illiterate, greedy of gain, coarse, essentially worldly in
Iheir pursuits and acts; if not much despised, at least
little honoured. We speak of them simply as a con-
trast to their worthier brethren here. Here, indeed,
we find men who, not hiding their laziness behind
stone walls under a pretence of religion, give up all to
God save reproach or poverty, and fight in pure faith the
great battle amid all its temptations, with all its sweat-
producing trials. They seek to be of the band with
" Him who overcometh.'^ In the simple belief that
they shall reign with the King hereafter in a better
world, they cast the joys of this one at His feet now,
and use their substance and strength in His service,
trying to walk even as He walked on earth in doing
good to suffering sinful men.

The influence of good as of evil is contagious, and
the chief missionary who gave up his delights on the
fairest vale of earth, has not wanted followers even in
this sacrifice. One summer day, when Italy might
have claimed the blue canopy overhead, we, a party of
friends, drove to celebrate a birthday in a distant
outport. Mile after mile of a gradual ascent upon the
slope of a broad hill, along which were scattered little
farms, cut out like oases in the desert of bog or barren,
were passed, ere we turned the crest to plunge quickly
down the opposite slop^, where, at each angle of the
road, the broad waters of Conception Bay flashed back
the dazzling sunbeams. Leaping between the clefts

I- 1

176

Lost Amid the Fogs.

of rock some hundred feet below us with many a
little foaming fall, from level to level, a little babbling
burn ran, a glad herald before us to the sandy beach.
There a few straggling houses at the foot of the hills
led, of course, to a larger fishing village, whose whole
population of women, children, and cripples, were at
that moment on the flat flakes which fringe the beach,
to spread the half-dried fish before the welcome sun-
beams. Beneath a clump of spruce, upon a bit of
velvet sward, our merry dinner is discussed ; then,
while the younger fry seize the golden moments for a
more active process of digestion, we elders strolled into
the village to observe, and in so observing laugh or
learn. Suddenly, from behind a fir-grove, was heard
the tinkling, tinkling, tinkling of a vesper-bell, gently
bidding all good folk and wayfarers to come and join
its modest worship. Except from a Koman source it
was almost the last thing one might have expected to
hear in such a place, and yet we soon found that this
invitation came from an orthodox offshoot of " the
Anglican branch of the Catholic faith," as some folk
here so love to style it. Just as we entered the portals
of the neat wooden edifice, a thin elderly man, who had
been tolling his own summons, ascended the lectern,
and began to read the daily evening-service of the
Church. None but ourselves, chance visitors, were
there ; and we, who came not to scoflf, remained with
that simply trusting man to pray. After the service,
my friend Nathaniel whispered that this was another
blessing to the Church brought by the influence of the

The Anglican Branch of the Catholic Church. 177

Bishop. They were personal friends and first-class men
at Oxford ; and, like the Bishop, this man (besides
being the possessor of ample private means) gave up
his living in England to come out and work under his
old college friend in this remote fishing-village on the
edge of the wild Atlantic, where his intercourse with
the great civilised world beyond was but scant indeed.
While he told us this simple tale of loving faith, its
hero joined us close outside his cottage-presbytery,
which he asked us to enter. What a strange interior
it was! Boxes, trunks, deal chests by dozens, lying
about in every direction ; tables and chairs, littered
Avith pamphlets and letters, scattered broadcast around.
It was a literary chaos, through which one could barely
move: a true picture of a man without a helpmeet,
of a house which was not a home. The uncarpeted
room served both for parlour and kitchen, and the
})arson's humble fare — tea, bread, two eggs boiled with
his own hands, and a large basin full of butter cut with
a spoon — soon appeared on the table. Thus the hermit
lived, keeping no servant, but depending for a scrub
to his house, for the making of his bed, and, indeed,
almost for the simple necessaries of daily food, on his
friends in the village below. If they came to his need,
well and good ; if not, he rubbed on, without thinking
much of or heeding his necessities, so that he might
have health and strc ^th to ring his little bell for
matins and evens, and watch over the sick-beds of all
who wanted him. He preferred to spend his own
means with those who wanted, to seeking the comforts

ij^

178

Lost Amid the Fogs.

of the outer world. This is to be a missionary, to be a
man of God in many senses of the word, even thougli
it contain an example which few me.i could strictly
or even should follow.

This is no solitary case — stranger can be put on record.
Yet not all can put their hands to such work without
looking back. I remember a young clergyman, full of
zeal, who, with a bride, went off for the solitary wilds of
Labrador ; but he came back after the first year, and
said, very meekly, " that he could not stand it." The
maid would not stay with the young wife, who was some-
times left in the cottage alone for six weeks at a stretch,
with nothing but a barrel of salt pork to which she could
appeal for nourishment. It was a wonder she survived
the hideous solitude ; and it would have been simply in-
sensible murder to persist. And there was another man
who fought the fearful battle for many long, weary years
on that iron northern coast, where the snow lies upon the
withered ground nine months out of twelve, and inter-
course with scattered neighbours is interdicted by the
season at a stretch. He, too, was a man possessed of
ample means of this world's goods, yet, at the call of his
friend, came out from England to take up his dwelling
in the benighted fishing-village, intent for the future on
one great object — the proclamation of the glad tidings
to all who would hear them. It was wondrous how he
could have borne the strain upon his nerves so long. In
such a man, to live amid the eternal blank of snow, with-
out a creature of one's own kith or class — depending on
a barrel of pork and hard biscuit — forced to go from

The Anglican Branch of the Catholic Church. ITD

harbour to harbour, with vast intervening distances,
often unable to find the place, deep-buried amid the
equalising snows — without books, news, friends — eight
months at a time without intelligence from the great
outer world ; — this for a season might be terrible, but
for life it is nothing but slow martyrdom. How glad
we were when the Bishop sent for the faithful mission-
ary, to recruit his health among us. He was a child
again amid gardens, flowers, and fruit. Books, old to
us, were worlds of delight to him — photographic-albums
and telegraphic-messages, awful as the oracles of Delplii
to the ancients. At first he walked about the busy world
as a man long confined in darkness and still half-blind.
By degrees his strength returned, and with it, alack !
the desire to return to his scene of labour, and conflict
again with all that flesh holds dear. Earnestly his
friends besought him not to go, to sacrifice everything,
perhaps reason itself ; but all in vain. Can any cloistered
monk, throughout the wide realms of indolence, super-
stition, or fanaticism, show labour and sacrifice equal to
this ? Yet a greater proof of his resolution, a harder
trial of his unflinching faith, awaited him. During this
furlough, like foolish and wise men alike, he fell under
the soft redeeming influence of our fallen nature. She
(God bless her for a trusting woman !) would have gone
with him to — where shall I say ? — farther than any word
that can be written, or thought can invent. But her
parents wisely said " nay :" and an old clergyman, him-
self a zealous missionary in its real sense in these wilds,
on being appealed to by them, counselled our good friend

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180

Lost Amid the Fogs.

not again to tempt the fearful shores of Greenland, but
now to fulfil for the rest of his life his social duties, in
conjunction with his zeal to God, in a more genial land.
He received no reply but a sad and gentle shake of the
head : and when the old prophet added, that he might
surely now resign such hardships to a younger man,
sternly the gentle martyr raised his voice, and cried —
" Get thee behind me, Satan — I say, get thee behind."

So the vision of sweet love and of a new home melted
away, and soon after he departed again for those frozen
shores. We will not say he was right ; or of the old
prophet, in his entreaties, " Alas ! my brother ! " We
cannot judge of the terrible conflict between the Maker
and His servant ; but we may ask once more, Can any
cloistered monk throughout the world show zeal or self-
denial such as this man — bound by no vows, confined
by no walls, fettered by no will, save that of his con-
science in treaty with his God ?

And yet, I protest, one more instance of a self-denying
zeal must not be unrecorded. There was, not many miles
from our fish-capital, a poor clergyman, with a young
family, who, in the midsfc of the poorest district of the
place, struggled for bare exiritenco for many long years,
his shoulder ever gored against the collar, and yet sharing
with the wretched poverty around him his unbuttered
crust, when he had nothing better (and it was rarely he
had) to offer. At last it so happened that a neighbour-
ing bishop, having heard of the man and of his worth,
sent to him an offer of a far better living than the one
he held. Great was the rejoicing under that humble

The Anglican Branch of the Catholic Church. 181

roof when the news arrived ; but, by the following mail,
a letter told him of the bitter disappointment this offer
had occasioned to a curate who had been there several
years, and who was, if possible, a still poorer man than
himself. He actually sat down and wrote a second letter
to the Bishop recalling his first acceptance, and express-
ing a respectful hope that the claim of the curate might
not be forgotten ! Ah, ah ! how often, in our long
journeys through life, with our vast opportunities, do we
imitate this grand unselfishness !

Yet, with such godly men as these, for example — with
such a Bishop as leader — the "Anglican branch of the
Catholic Church " languishes in the heart of her people.
Adapted for generations born some centuries back, her
rulers hesitate, in a world ever changing, to suit the
services of the worship of their Creator to the require-
ments and wants of the living. Her doctrines mav
stand on a foundation of rock, but her manner of setting
them forth to the simple rests on a bed of sand. With
a lax or indifferent bishop the Anglicans of Newfound-
land might long ago have been shunted into the many
by-ways of Dissent — leading in all directions from the
king's State highway, while not a few, here and there,
run almost parallel to it. The piety, earnestness, sim-
plicity of life of the bishop, combined with the high
tone of an English gentleman, have influenced many of
this generation to linger in the old paths yet. Alas !
stronger testimony to the worth of the man, and to the
suicidal weakness of the Church over which he presides,
and so dearly loves, could not be recorded.

!; If

CHAPTER XII.

SPRING — THE ARGONAUTS OF THE NORTH.

jESPERATE, as pitiable, is tlie state of desti-
tution in which the lower classes of the
capital are plunged during the inactivity of
winter. Large wages are usually earned all
through the summer, but saving in harvest-time is a
thing unknown here ; and although the merchants are
bled for supplies to the uttermost farthing, yet by the
beginning of February things look pretty bad in the
slums of the town and the villages near about. But
after Valentine's day they take a sudden turn. The
busy sound of axes and hammers reverberate hum-
raingly from the hillsides around the snug harbour;
and not a rotten old schooner, brig, or lugger which can
swim, or swimming can be insured, but is trimmed up
and provisioned to join the great spring seal-fishery.
From that day to the end of the month the excitement
as to the men who are to sail on this momentous ex-
pedition increases rapidly, and the grog-shops of Water
Street reap a rich harvest, the greater part of the score
being reserved to be wiped off at the end of the voyage.

Spring — The Argonauts of the North. 183

For many years past this great fishery, or hunting ex-
cursion on the ocean fields of ice, as it should be more
properly named, had brought hundreds of thousands of
pounds sterling among the community yearly ; and lucky
was the man esteemed who had secured his berth in a
ship to be sailed and commanded by some sm.'irt and
experienced hand.

Long ere the first days of March had stolen on us,
the fleet had gathered one by one in battle order, as it
were, beneath the dark shades of the south side hills.
It was at this time, when the preparatory excitement
was at its highest, that, walking with Wolfe up at the
west end of the town, near the head of the harbour, we
came upon the loud sound of angry voices proceeding
from a crowd gathered round the closed doors of a mer-
chant's office. Some of the men were knocking at the
knotty door, some beating with the flat of their hands
against the clattering shutters ; while, amid the tumul-
tuous clamour, we could distinguish the sounds of
" Larry ! be all the saints, and be tlie Holy Mother!" —
"Larry, not a man will be going for ye!" — "Larry!" this,
and " Larry ! " that. It was evident something very ex-
citing to those weather-beaten, unsavoury looking cus-
tomers was going on.

" It's the berth-money, yer honner," said one of them,
dressed in a tight suit of yellow canvas, steeped in oil
and smelling horribly. " It's the berth-money the boys
is disputing ; and Larry, the old villin, won't put down
a man of us at the same rate as last year. He's riz ten
sliillings, and faix he 's too hard altogether."

U,n

(» '\

184

Lost Amid the Fogs.

The beith-money was the fee each man paid for the
ticket for his chauce of the voyage, including provisions
put on board by the merchants. If he was keen in his
bargain, all that can be said is that the old coon knew his
customers ; for while we talked to the would-be-sealers,
there was a split among them, begun by observing
one or two slipping round to the rear of the wharf,
and entering their names in the ship's books, leaving
the others either in the lurch or at once to follow their
example. A few days after this not a vessel was to bo
seen in the harbour. Taking advantage of a southerly
wind, they had slipped out at break of day in the pur-
suit of their hard exciting voyage to the northward.

Then, for the next three weeks to a month, the hearts
of all classes in the great fish-colony palpitate between
hope and dread incessantly. The first thing on waking,
the last before sleeping (if, indeed, some slept at all),
the only observation hazarded in the streets, was the
state of wind and weather bearincr on this momentous
voyage. All had a stake in it. The merchant in his
ships, stores, and winter credits to the fishermen ; the
fishermen to pay these debts, in order (and in order
solely) to obtain more credit for the summer cod-fishery.
The grocers, haberdashers, lawyers, publicans, barbers,
butchers, bakers, coopers, tailors, planters, insurance
companies, priests, ministers, gentlemen, and shoe-
blacks, all depend, practically, for very existence upon
this great venture. About the time when news may
possibly be expected, the excitement rapidly increases
towards fever-point ; the grog-shops drive if possible a

Spring — The Argonauts of the North. 185

still more roaring business, straining credit to the verge
of credulity ; and all manner of wagers are laid upon
the first ship making her voyage home, and the number
of seals in her hold. The pretty girls may be seen
gloating at the shop windows on the finery they h(;pe
to wear soon on Sunday, when their sweethearts return ;
and the little razeed old men, who have lost their legs at
the knee-joint, frozen off in former memorable voyages,
and who for eleven months in the year stump about
quite unnoticed, are now hauled into the tap-rooms,
and with unlimited treats cross-examined on their for-
nier experiences. Those great captains of history,
(buttle and Burnsby, could not acquit themselves better
in enlightening everybody without compromising them-
selves. Poor fellows ! they have a glorious time of it
for a week or so, but it is indeed a hard-earned joy.

Yet day by day may pass away without a sign flutter-
ing from the cross-yards of the post on Signal Hill,
though, as the merchants and other good folk peep*
anxiously upwards, the signal-man like a speck against
the blue sky may ever be seen with his glass towards
the north. It is almost pitiable to watch the anxious
faces straining their eyes upon that flag-post, while
every now and then some two or three, buttoning their
coats up to their chins, start off to breast that heart-
breaking hill, and take a look for themselves. It is
pitiable to watch their downcast looks as they descend,
and to listen to their sad good-night at the corner of tlio
street. But, at length, the sun rises on a bright breezy
morn, with the wind nor -west, and a flutter runs through

I >i

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186

Lost Amid the Fogs.

the city, the presage of something coming. Men meet
and wag their heads as they pass, saying, " This is the
wind, my boy! we shall hear of something before to-
night." Ah ! how they do strain their eyes upon that
signal-staff, until at last— yes, no, yes — it cannot be—
the man drops the glass, looks again, seizes a halyard,
and runs up a ball to the northward, and soon after a
pennant from the truck is proclaiming, " A schooner to
the nor'-east." Heavens! is the town gone mad ? They
are running up the hill by hundreds, out-racing each
ther, and storming the look-out in a phalanx. Hilloa !
there is another ball, another pennant ! "A number of
vessels to the northward?" All the women are at the
doors and windows, and business is suspended except at
tlie grog-shops. The fleet is evidently coming in, and
" Have they made a voyage ?" is the awful question on
every tongue. " Will they be up before night?" " The
wind is shifting round." " How leaden the clouds are
gathering up." " We shall have snow." And so night
creeps on apace, and covers the slushy streets once more
with its cold white blanket, which it were better could it
but chill down the feverish pulses which chase away all
rest and sleep from the homes of both rich and poor. Far
out on the horizon, beating against the southerly gale,
how does it fare with the weary mariners ? Across the
broad light which gleams at the entrance of the Nar-
rows, what a vast network of thought is interweaving
between the sailors and their homes on land. It is a
theme which some one (I know not who) has tenderly
touched in graphic lines, which deserve a better place

Spring — The Argonauts of the North. 187

for immortality than these humble pages can hope to
secure for them.

It is a
enderly
jr place

MAKING THE HARBOUR-LIGHT.

The snow falls thick, so you may not see
The foresail gleam from the break o' the poop —

The long-boat looms like a rock on the lee,
And the drift lies a foot on hatch and coop.

Long glimmering lines of dark and light

Mingle in wavy dance up aloft —
And the topmast-head goes into the night,

Capp'd with a head-dress wliite and soft.

Phantom-like figures grow in the tops.
And the bunts of the furled-up sails are piled

With a heavy freight that sullenly drops
When the good ship bends to a gust more wild.

And the clues o' the courses, stiff as a board,
Catch up the flakes into bossy heaps.

Till, a flap, and oft" whirrs the sparkling hoard.
Startling the tars in their standing sleeps.

Still, stoutly onwards we liold our course.
Hugging the wind witli a bear-like grip —

Holding each inch we gain, with a force,
And passing the credit to our good ship.

The helmsman's eye, from under the rim
Of his slouch'd sou'- wester, beams a-glow —

No matter how braggart tlie wind to him.
And little matter the fall o' the snow.

Hand, eye, and ear are serving his soul —
He "feels " the flap o' the topsail leach.

And steadily over, watching the roll.
Whirls the wheel to an arm-long reach.

Grasping the weathermost mizen-shrouds
As grimly as if were gript in his hands

t :i i;

188 Lost Amid the Fogs.

Our fifteen lives, and swathed in a cloud
Of sleet-stuff and snow, the master stands.

Into the darkness and whirling flakes.
Into the heart of the brooding bank,

A long, dim alley his calm eye makes,
And the world outside is all a blank.

Empires and kingdoms may foundering bo,
And bloodiest wars afoot on the land ;

But his the duty to conquer the sea,

And keep his soul and ours in command.

Not for him to peer at the compass-card.
And blur or dazzle the steady eye ;

But, sternly staring, he mutters hard —
" Keep her close at it," or " Full and by ! "

No voice, save his, on the midnight stirs.

No sounds save the plash, and swish, and swirl,

As, under her bows, one ceaselessly hears
The slush-covered water part and curl.

And gurgle along the sloppy sides,

(clutching the snow out the chains at a jump,

Then slipping away with the murmuring tides.
Or striking the quarters a sluggish bump.

With the quiet flakes on his stift'en'd feet,
Searching his neck, and nipping his eyes,

On the rounded coils of the spanker-sheet,
A youngster, half-dreamingj shapeless lies.

He knows that, true to his will, his hand
Would promptly obey the master's shout ;

But his thoughts are far away on the land,
Nor heeds he for any perils without.

He dreams of a valley, spread broad and fair,
With grand old mountains upon each side ;

He dreams of a red lamp's cheerful glare.
Welcoming ships to the old wharf side.

Spring — llie Argonauts of the North. ISI)

Of a little room, with its walls a-blaze,

On happy faces, all bright with joy !
And he hears the voices of olden days,

Before he went as a sailor-boy.

Dear, kind, brown eyes, seem his to greet —

" God bh^ss and guard her !" he prays, " 'tis she ! "

When a cry ^^Ease off that spanker-sheet !
Hard up the helm, and keep her free !"

One glare, one flare of a flashing light.
And the visions die with its sudden ray ;

The lee-braces ily with a circling bight.

And the sheets spin out with a wild hurra I

The water seethes at the bluflf o' the bow.
And the helm chums it to hissing wrath —

And the strain on the shij) and the master's brow
Relax to welcome the well-known ])ath.

With a surge and a bound the yards swing square.
And the night 's alive witlj our cheery cries.

As before the snow-storm, free and fair.
Merrily homewards our good ship flies.

Scarcely daybreak out on tlie hill-tops, yet the mer-
(luints, wrestling tor glasses and watching the fleet
Nome miles off (chary of the iron-bound coast), lay
heavily on the first ship past Fort Amherst, the num-
ber of her catch of seals, and the house she may belong
1o. There is one vessel at least two miles nearer in
than her consorts, her number is flying from the peak,
but they cannot quite make it out. Ah ! what palpi-
tation ! what tantalisation ! The top flag is a 2 ; the
lowest a 7 ; no, it is a 9, — which is it, Bo wring or
M'Bride ? for it is clear it is one of the lucky twain.
The schooner yaws for a second, but that's enough;

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Lost Amid the Fogs.

1 1 I

h ■

^2ai

■■is

the nuinbevs stand out bravely in the breeze ; and John
Bowring, jumping up, shouts to the signal-man to hoist
the number of his house. Look over the Queen's Bat-
tery, across the harbour among the still hazy wharves
and ships ; almost in less time than it can be written
looms out a puff of white smoke, and to the faint boom
of a gun the signal-flag of the house on their own wharf
is run up in acknowledgment of the joyful news. In
ten minutes more they know that 7000 seals are in the
schooner's hold, and honest John, with a crushed hat,
flushed cheeks, and well-bespattered clothes, comes
tearing down the hill, heeding nothing as he rushes
past to his counting-house. He knows he has driven
that last hour many a nail into his future villa on the
banks of Mersey. Good honest iellow ! no one is jealous
of his luck ; and yet few would like to take him for a
partner at our whist-club that evening ; his revokes
would probably be something awful !

One by one, all through that great day of all others
in the year, they come gliding through the Narrows,
until, just as the sun tips the crest of Signal Hill with
a farewell crimson kiss, the last laggard of the fleet
anchors in the channel, to wait until the little, busy,
bewildered tug shall have leisure to haul them inside.
But in truth it matters but little whether the ships
anchor or not, for surely as the sun sinks, out go the
boats, and leaving the captain to take care of the ship
as best he can, in a few minutes the greasy hunters
jump on shoi-e, and are hauled oflf by friends and women
as mad with joy as they are. In streets, in lanes, in

Spring — The Argonauts of the North 1 1) 1

cottages of the poor, as well as in mansions of the rich,
the night is prolonged in one great universal orgie. It
was on one of these occasions that an officer of rank,
sent up to Fish-and-fog-land from Halifax on an official
commission, said, in answer to a question as to what
sort of a place it was, " Well, sir, I was only there three
days, and they appeared to me to be all drunk."

Alas ! it was not destined to be my good fortune to
witness so pleasant a prosperity during my three years
sojourn in the great fish-colony. The grand harvest of
the Arctic Sea was not gathered in. Our worthy mer-
chants came down, in those sad years, from Signal Hill
more slowly than they ascended ; and, though it is very
probable the amount of liquor consumed in the slums
and groggeries was much the same, yet, on these occa-
sions, it was drunk not to celebrate a rejoicing, but to
drown sorrow for bad luck, as well as, perhaps, to
honour the health of those accommodating patrons who
had been feeding their families all the winter, and were
about to do the same for the summer, without a half-
penny returned. If they drank for luck the first year
of failure, it brought no good fortune to the next year's
venture ; and then gaunt women and children, often
barefooted, all through that terrible winter, through ice
and snow, were seen in numbers running from door to
door begging charity sorely needed. Yes, in the wintry
months of 1863 poor Fish-and-fog-land was, indeed,
hardly pressed; but the elastic Irish heart woke up
with the strengthening sun in spring, and the ships
were once more rigged out for the old venture almost

i:i.'

102

Lo8l A mid the Fogs.

us gaily and gladly as before. Four — five — six — long
weeks passed by, and not a vestige of news readied the
trembling city from the north. It was sickening to
behold the anxious, long-drawn faces at the doors
watching the staflF on the Signal Hill, from which, sad
to relate, the pennants for the returning fleet were
never to fly. But the ill -tidings came at last. The
ships had never struck the seals at all ; but, caught by
easterly gales between the ice and a lee-shore, had been
jammed until they had been crushed like walnuts in
that iron grasp. The men, poor wretches ! had escaped
on shore ; and the news came that they were starving
in the out-liarbours to the northward, from wliich the
miserable, broken-looking wretches came down by drih-
lets, and slank away to their equally miserable lairs.
Down tumbled insurance companies, never to raise their
heads again ; and old-established houses, of undoubted
strength and reputation, shook and trembled under sucli
terrific blows. Bad enough for these, but worse for the
fishermen to endure. Wiiat a sad, sad picture it must
have been, to witness the return of the disappointed,
starving man to his cottage, with starving faces before
him, to whom he brings no help, and his own strengtli
for work all but exhausted ! That night they anxiously
debate the prospect of seeking a little more credit — of
feeling whether there may not be just one ticket left in
the great lottery-bag, as an escape for themselves and
little ones from death. In very many cases this is no
exaggerated picture of unfortunate Fish-and-fog-land
in the disastrous spring of 1864.

Spring — 77tc Argonauts of the North. \[Y^

There is one curious consideration connected witli the
seal-fishery for which I never could obtain a satisfactory
solution. It is tlic very short time — a bare three weeks
— whicli this usually rich harvest lasts. The hunters
strike their prey on the great pans of ice floating down
from the Arctic seas ; but, after the vessels are once
filled — or rather, whether lucky or not, after this stereo-
typed portion of time has passed — no attempt to follow
the seals to the southward is ever made ; nor could any
one ever explain what became of the great shoals of these
animals after passing Newfoundland. Perhai)S this is
just as well ; for, if it be true that the female seal only
produces one young one yearly, they certainly would,
unless they escaped some years, have long ago been
exterminated. It is probable that, after running down
with the Arctic current as far as the great Banks, follow-
ing the vast and various shoals of fish which are seeking
the shallow waters round the coast, in which to deposit
their spawn, the seals turn to the westward up the Gulf
of St Lawrence, and make terrible havoc among the
salmon and sea-trout at the mouths of the numberless
streams which flow into the mighty father of northern
waters. Moreover, it is certain that, in some of these
tributaries, little known or frequented, save by the
Indians, or by the amateur fly-fisher who rents the water
for the season from the Canadian Government, they arc
often seen in untold numbers. I remember hearing that,
in 1865, an officer of the Montreal staff, with his wife,
pitched their tent, during one of these excursions, far up
on the wild unknown banks of the St John, for the com-

194

Lost Amid the Fogs.

: I

bined objects of fishing, photography, and the pleasant,
unshackled life of the wigwam. One sunny afternoon,
in July, they were out in a canoe in one of the reaches
of the stream, when, on a large bare flat rock, project-
ing into the river about four hundred yards ahead, they
suddenly saw a vast number of moving creatures. What
these were they could not imagine, unless they were
bears or wolves driven inwards by a concentrated back-
wood fire. At length, after a steady survey with the
glass, to the lady's great relief, the astonished officer
pronounced them to be seals in countless numbers. He
made a stealthy approach to within a hundred yards, the
canoe was stopped, and the contents of a double-barrelled
rifie poured in. Almobt by the time the piece was low-
ered from his shoulder the whole area of the rock was
cleared, while the river beneath literally boiled and
foamed like a cauldron. They climbed the rock and
looked down upon the hundreds upon hundreds of seals,
whose myriad eyes watched them from below. Con-
ceive the havoc these hungry brutes must make witli
the salmon ; and conceive, again, if that be possible, the
prodigious quantity of salmon there must be in the river
to supply their ravenous appetites, and yet allow a good
angler to play and kill his twenty-five or thirty fisli
a-day. As an Irishman said, of the stake-nets in tlic
Shannon, before the Commissioners — " Bedad, gintil-
raen, if it warn't for them there wouldn't be wathcr
enough to float the sammin."

This, however, by no means settles the disputed point,
as to what becomes of the seals when the ice deserts

rqject-
l, they
What
J were
back-
ith the
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•s. He
rds, the
[irrelled
-as low-
pck was
ed and
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seals,
Con-
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a good
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deserts

Spring — The Argonauts of the North. 1!)5

them, on striking the shoulder of the Gulf Stream
below Newfoundland: and, pursuing our inquiry, it is
not a little curious to find a fish, which breeds both in
the Arctic and Antarctic regions, plentiful in the tepid
waters of the Caribbean Sea. From the lighthouse on
the palisades of PortKoyal, at the entrance of the har-
bour of Kingston, in Jamaica, for many miles westward
along that coast, a line encloses a system of low coral
islands, reefs, banks, and shoals, colonized by innumer-
able birds and fishes. Each kind has its own locality,
and keys and islands never interchange inhabitants.
The bank that gives the king-fish gives neither the
snapper nor the grouper. Southward from the ex-
tremity of this long bank, at a distance of some few
leagues, the great Pedro bank is reached, stretching
another hundred miles, the keys of which attract yearly
vast numbers of fishing-boats from the main, for the
great egg-harvest. Some three miles out, to leeward of
the South-west Key, lies Seal Key. It is about three
acres in extent, and some twenty feet in height. There
is no approach to this islet but in very fine weather, on
account of the sunken reefs, on which the surf plays
with fury. At the best of times lauding is not effected
without great })eril, as a continual sea rushes up the
shore. There is not a particle of vegetation on this
key : the booby-birds repair to it, but do not breed
there. It is the congregating place of seals alone.
There they seem, in vast numbers, to delight in basking
in the hot sun, and to huddle together and grunt out
their pleasure in each other's company. In truth, save

1 1 ■■■ 1 1

196

Lost Amid the Fogs.

from the shot of a rifle, they live here in safety ; though,
as these reefs are visited only once a-year, for a few
weeks each spring, it is not known whether they remain
for the whole year round, or are merely there in their
passage north or south. I remember hearing of a party
who did succeed in landing, and in heading an old bull-
seal before he could gain the beach. They killed him
after a hard battle. He proved to be an aged patriarch,
with teeth worn down to the stumps, and a hide gashed
and seared with scars got in many a fierce fight. Who
can tell us more of his history, and whether he ever
crossed and recrossed the great river of the ocean be-
tween far-off" Greenland and the hot, barren rocks in
the centre of the blue Antilles ?

Yet, notwithstanding the havoc made by the seals
upon the salmon, we were not without that luxury in
its due season in Fish-and-fog-land, though it was
rarely until the beginning of July that the first speci-
men of this glorious fish was brought in from Portugal
Cove. The great object which amateur gardeners had
in view was to raise a cucumber to match this noble
dish, — a feat which, late as the season was, has never
been to my knowledge accomplished in St John's.
For want of experience, combined with an undue fear
of frosty nights, while the snow still lay thick upon
the ground, our hot-beds were always begun too late.
True, we had surer work to go by, but for all that
we never managed to eat our salmon and cucumber
together : the more 's the pity, for such salmon as these
are unknown elsewhere. Our fish were caugut ere they

Spring — The Argonauts of the North. 197

left the sea, the numberless mountain streams round
St John's being too small for their ascent. Every day
that a salmon out of the salt ascends the fresh water,
he loses in firmness and sweetness ; so it was doubly
hard lines that, first in season we had the lobsters,
next the salmon, then the salad, and last of all the
cucumber; but never in the great fish-colony could
these luxuries be procured ensemble for love or money,
and no doubt for want of skill.

In truth, spite of the good results, and the pleasure
afforded by the occupation, horticulture in Newfound-
land was a terribly uphill game. No sooner did the
brown head of Signal Hill peep from beneath its winter
blanket, and long before the weary stall-penned cattle
were suffered to roam the fields again, usually about
the beginning of April, than spade and shovel began
tickling the ribs of our common mother, in the hope of
seeing the smile of a bountiful promise spread quickly
over her face. The sun, which (in the latitude of
Paris) is now powerfully felt, soon turns this promise
into reality, and the trim little gardens began to be gay
with hardy flowers ; while between the rows of bloom-
ing gooseberry and currant bushes, peas, beans, lettuces,
and many other kinds of the good old sorts, look day
by day more boldly at the bright king above. By the
end of the month, or beginning of May, there is just a
patch or two of dirty snow left in the corners of the
streets ; the musk rats are swimming gaily in the
lakes and rivulets, the snipe is drumming joyously
overhead, and the old man's beard, a frozen torrent

}.^i

198

Lost Amid the Fogs.

on the south side hills (always the last relic ot winter
to be seen), has dwindled, as it were, into a few long
hoary hairs. Frost ! the idea is simply absurd ; or
even if it should come, it can be but a gentle touch
which can do no great harm. But one afternoon,
somehow, there is a queer, chilly feel in the air, and
the olive-tinted hills look gray with dark-blue cavities ;
the sun sets blood red, and the cloudless sky at night
flashes as a vast steel-embossed canopy overhead. It
was cold ; but I little suspected, when the doors were
closed for the night, the havoc which morning's light
would display. The little garden was not; the black
earth was there, but the flowers and tender plants were
gone. Repining was of little use ; there was yet time,
and cheerfully we set to work to sow and plant again,
until in three weeks more the garden began to smile
again, and the old trial was almost forgotten. Then it
happened that, one evening returning home after our
usual stroll, as the peep of the vast Atlantic opened
through the Narrows, lo ! the entrance of the harbour
was almost blockaded by a huge white iceberg, and the
Arctic ice, detached from its great parent depot, was
running with the current down our coast, charged with
cold chills for the earth, and heavy fogs hereafter in its
battle with the warm Gulf Stream to the southward.
Thus it went on running past us week after week,
while every now and then a stronger south-easterly
wind than usual would completely block up the Nar-
rows or harbour with the hideous alabaster-looking
lumps. We, poor frozen- out gardeners, stood and

Spring — The Argonauts of the Xorth. 199

looked in utter disgust at the prospect ; as well we
might. The young plants did not die, but they refused
to grow. It mattered not a whit to the young ducks
that the peas to match them stood still ; but like the
story of the salmon and cucumber aforesaid, it happened
that young ducks and young peas could never get
together. April past, May past, June almost gone ;
weary, weary, weary. But at last the heavy fogs came
rolling up over the south side hills, showing that the
great annual conflict between north and south had begun,
and the white-clad armies of the north melted daily
away. {Mould that it had always been ho ehewhere.)
Then came our reward at last Avith bright sunny days,
so doubly enjoyable in a place where the heat of the
glad sun is a thing not to be dreaded but enjoyed.
Beneath his witching looks the dull brown livery of
earth's sad surface changed to a living emerald. Be-
neath our very gaze the eager tendrils of the hop,
convolvulus, and scarlet-runner seize the strong arms
ready to raise them from the ground; while birds in
troops from warmer climes fly past to the great inland
woods and swamps, there to coo, and build, and raise
their young, undisturbed by the murderous hand of
man. Country, gardens, fields, cliffs, mountains, all is
delightful now as the bower of roses by Bendemcer's
stream or fairyland itself. But, ah ! how short it
sometimes is. This very year of which we write, cut
oflf by frost once, twice, and the harbour full of ice on
the 3d of July ! Yet we followed the command of the
Preacher to bow in the morning and withhold not the

I ■" I

200

Lo8t Amid the Fogs.

hand in the evening, though much of the seed cast into
the earth this year never came back after many days
to bless the sower. Rising one morning very early on
the 2d of September, to start on a shooting expedi-
tion, terrible was the sight the hitherto beautiful little
garden presented. It was just as if the breath of a
furnace had passed through it, and blasted the beauty
of earth for ever. Stalk, flower, leaf, fruit, were all
alike the prey of that cruel herald of far-off winter.
Nearly all the joy, all the labour for that year, was for
the third time gone, and so the Preacher was right
when he preached of vanity, and that there was no
profit to a man under the sun. Happily all years are
not like this: and the destroyer seldom comes before
the harvest of field and garden is safely gathered in.
We have no peaches or plums, and but few apples.
But our small fruits ripen well, and our vegetables
might have been shown in Covent Garden without
discredit.

Yet for many years after the colony became civilised,
vegetables and fruits were practically unknown ; for no
one believed they could be grown. The ground was
apparently half-rock, half-swamp. Certainly, were a
stranger to walk over Signal Hill or the steep South
Side slopes, he might be pardoned if he were a little
incredulous on the subject of cultivation. Yet the
slope on which the city stands was just the same but a
few years back, and now fifty gardens bear produce fit
for an emperor's table. A few humble potatoes led
the van, until, finally, the triumphs of hotbeds with

ima

Spring— The Argonauts of the North. 201

cucumbers and melons was attained ; and the day
is not far distant when orchard-houses and conserva-
tories will lend their charms to adorn the tables of the
luxurious, and the sick-rooms of the poor as well.
How the rich in those days existed without them so
long would be incomprehensible, did we not learn the
secret lay in the rapid fortunes acquired formerly in the
successful fisheries, and the consequent " vamosing " of
the lucky speculators, leaving not a wreck behind them.
And yet so strangely does the silent finger of God work,
that, in spite of present suffering and loss, there can be
little doubt of the failure of the fisheries for three suc-
cessive years proving a blessing in the end. The
merchants finding the days of quick fortune-making
passed away, moreover beginning to understand that the
prime of their days, at any rate, must be spent in this
country, are wisely settling themselves more comfortably,
more luxuriantly. They begin to build themselves villas
on the banks and borders of the dark-green lochs, with
ornamental additions of little infant conservatories and
flower-gardens. Better kinds of fruit-trees and choice
vegetables were being imported from England or Boston,
and gardeners will be soon wanted to take care of them.
Art in a thousand forms to administer to these luxuries
will be called into rapid requisition, and the higher
skill of labour will bring a higher grade of civilisation
and refinement in its train. Superior schools will be
opened for the young ; and actually a people's park
and garden was about to be laid out. Government, to
employ the starving poor, are compelled to open new

i i

202

Lost Amid the Fogs.

roads ; so that one of the chief wants in all civilised
communities receives a little of that attention long and
loudly called for. The fisherman, amid the shocking
trials of starvation, is beginning to trust a little less to
the lottery of the sea, and large patches of unpromising-
looking ground are cleared and drained yearly. The
cultivation of flax, for which the country seems
eminently adapted, is beginning to attract attention.
Should this succeed, enormous benefits would at once
accrue to the poorer classes, as they would find em-
ployment in cleaning and scutching the fibre during
the long winters. With every possible acre round the
city reclaimed, and the day may not be far distant
but that this may be, property will rise in value. Thus,
amid tribulation and chaos, the unerring mysterious
finger of order is crystallising and arranging all these
changes, sternly teaching of untold gifts blindly spurned
in generations past ; though more than one good ruler
(among whom, for this foresight and encouragement,
Sir Gaspard Le Marchant should especially be remem-
bered) earnestly sought to remedy these evils. It shall
yet be told, as a strange story of these times, how the
brave old Governor Sir Alexander Bannerman went
down to the House year by year to lament in his
opening speech the evil times which were come upon
his people on account of the failure of the fisheries,
liitherto their only stay; and how, thereupon, the
members on both sides of the House, with much
lamentation, voted an address in sympathising reply
to bis speech, and then folded their hands in utter

Spring — The Argonauts of the North. 203

helplessness and dismay. And they, in those after
days, will think how the angels must have smiled to
have heard the pitiful conclusions and forecasts of
man's guesses on the Wisdom overruling his destinies,
or wept to see how that he can only be taught by the
bitter experience of famine, misery, and death, to gather
up some of the numberless riches and blessings always
within his grasp, if sought for by the sure labours
wherein we are permitted to imitate the slow and silent
progress by which, under the Creator's hands, all things
approach perfection.

i ;

I '

CHAPTER XIII.

THE HARVESTS OF THE OCEAN.

F, as has been already mournfully chronicled
in these pages, the hopet of the great seal-
fishery set year by year (in these days) in
sorrow and disaster ; if, as the snows melted,
then fell, and melted again, our trials in horticulture
were manifold and severe, as even Habakkuk might
have nobly faced with unswerving trust; the sweet
breath of summer, direct from southern seas, late in
coming, but all the more welcome for that, lulled in
renewed hopes all our troubles of the past. A modern
writer has beautifully written, " There is always one
diay in the year when nature seems to me truly to awake.
The snow has been gone for weeks, the sun has been
shining briskly, the fruit trees are white with blossom,
yet the sky remains hard and stern, and the earth is
black and inhospitable, as if the remembrance of winter
had chilled its heart. But one morning you wake un-
warned, and you have barely drawn aside the curtains
ere you are aware that the bonds of death are loosed ;
that a new life has been born into the year, and that,

The Harvests of the Ocean.

•ior.

like the eyes of a girl who has begun to love, the blue
sky and the fleecy clouds have strangely softened since
nightfall. Summer is abroad upon the mountains, and
her maiden Avhisper thrills your pulse." It is a short
yet most delicious season here. We live in the latitude
of Paris with the temperature of Balmoral, and for this
brief time all nature, both animate and inanimate,
worships eagerly at the golden shrine of the God of
Light. Almost until midnight we linger now in the
garden beneath the shelter of the balsam- poplars, breath-
ing in the incense of the mignonette and roses, or
watching the vapours on the dark basin of the harbour
lift and mingle with the shadows on the south side
slopes, as the white moon walks gently up and pee{)s
over the shoulder of the opposite Signal Hill. Ah ! the
poets may sing as they please, but we are very certain
that no houri basking in perpetual sunshine, no Paxton
in his enchanted palaces, ever revelled in summer's
gladness as we do now. To understand our delight,
they must first stand our weary baptism in snow and
ice, cabined up in double windowed cells for five months
at a stretch, without freedom and exercise such as an
Englishman must have to live in health. Hark ! that
glad laugh born of light and heat, yet never heard
abroad in winter. A young girl crowned with golden
ringlets of laburnum is running down the hill chased
by a dozen companions jealous of her lovely prize.
Stand on the rise above the lake, as the sun bends
towards its western edge, and watch the parties of idlers
sauntering round the clear margin of the water, or

■¥i

\ ;

i ■

20C

Lost Amid the Foya.

■ i : il

stopping ever and anon to shout to the fishermen who
have been patiently beating the dark pools for hours
past on the jutting points of Bennett's Wood. Deeper
and deeper grow the shadows, until a white mist hangs
like a roUed-up curtain over the sleeping waters ; yet
still by keen ears the whispers of some loving voices
might be caught far into the small hours of night.
Ah 1 such delicious air to drink into the heaving breast
as dwellers in cities or dry arid plains, where rushing
waters are not, never know. Birds from the torrid
southern steppes, in teeming flocks, are hourly passing
onward to coo, mate, and build their little homes.
Cattle, released from the close steaming stalls of winter,
bound over the meadows, mad with the joy of liberty
again, or stand half mesmerised by the soft air in the
rippling shadows of the lake. Here, on its margin, the
echo of the thousand sounds of awakened labour is
gently borne onward by the western breeze. Ah ! now
we say. Would it were always thus ; yet forgetful, so
soon forgetful, of the dreary past, or that our joy in the
present is multiplied by the infinite contrast with the
white misery so long and patiently endured.

Wolfe is outside the garden-gate whistling to his
dogs. " Let us go," said he, looking over the paling,
"up on Signal Hill and see the cod-boats come in."
We pass through a dirty suburb answering to the un-
euphonious title of " Maggotty Cove " — not altogether
misnamed for all that, — and commence at once the
rough steep ascent of the hill, the scenery as we climb
becoming wilder and more rugged. High above on our

The Hmtesta of the Ocean.

207

to his

Hce the

climb

on our

right a ruined monolith, on a mountain peak, mnrkw
the site of an old battery, while to the left, sunk in a
hollow, a black bog lies slieltered amid the bare bones
of mother earth, here mainly composed of dark red
sandstones and conglomerates, passing down by regular
gradations to the slate below. A sudden turn of the
road reveals a deep solitary tarn, some three hundred
and fifty feet above the sea, in which the guardian rocks
reflect their purple faces, and where the ripi)le of the
musk rat, hurrying across, alone disturbs the placid
surface. We pass a hideous-looking barrack, and cross-
ing the soft velvety sward on the crest, reach a little
battery, from the parapets of which we look down,
down, almost five hundred feet perpendicularly, right
into *' the Narrows," the straight or creek between the
hills connecting the broad Atlantic with the oval har-
bour within. The great south side hills, covered with
luxuriant wild vegetation, and skeined with twisting
torrents, looms across the strait so close that one might
fancy it possible a stone could fly from the hand to the
opposite shore. On our left the vast ocean, with no-
thing, not a rock, between us and Galway. On our right,
at the other end of the narrow neck of water directly
beneath, the inner basin, expanding towards the smoke-
hung city, with the background of blue hills as a set-
ting to the picture, broken only in their continuous
outline by the twin-towers of the Catholic Catliedral,
ever thus, from all points, performing their mission of
conspicuity. Right below us, four hundred feet per-
pendicular, we lean over the grass parapet and look

208

Lost Amid the Fogs.

\ 1
I*

carefully down into the little battery guarding the nar-
rowest part of the entering strait, where, in the old
wars, heavy chains stretched from shore to shore. We
see a woman, not much bigger than Ham's wife in a
child's ark, the wife of the gunner in charge, hanging
out linen to dry ; and if a pebble stirred from the bank
on which we sit, it would light unpleasantly near to
her. We shout, and the opposite cliff hurls back the
challenge, while five hundred eyes glance upward to
our eyrie scat. The Narrows are full of fishing-boats
returning with the silver spoils of the day glistening in
the holds of the smacks, which, to the number of forty
or fifty at a time, tack and fill like a fleet of white
swans against the western evening breeze. Even as we
look down upon the decks, they come, and still they
come, round the bluff point of Fort Amherst from the
bay outside. Standing on the fiat flakes echelloned on
every cranny of the rocks are the women and children,
ready to catch the fish as they are pitchforked up out
of the boats, and place them ready for the splitter.
Alack, the evil time ! they have not long to wait ; for
like the disciples of old, many of them have toiled all
day and caught nothing. In former years, when there
were fewer fishermen, fewer planters, fewer murderous
dodges against the fish, these flakes of an evening could
scarcely bear the tremendous weight of the great ocean
harvest. Now happy is the planter who sees his flakes
occasionally covered with fish. Yet there cannot be an
effect without a cause, and why the poor fishermen's
families starve in winter, and why the merchant has to

■4,

The Harvests of the Ocean.

209

wait so many more years before he can hope to bund
that house in Greenock or Liverpool, must now needs
be told or guessed at.

In the first place, there are now many more mer-
chants, many more planters or middlemen, many more
fishermen to divide a catch which has averaged pretty
much of a muchness for many years past. In the second,
the new styles of fishing, introduced on the principle of
quick returns and devil take the hindmost, have done
vast injury to the fisheries. In the good old times —
really good in this wise — the proper sized fish only were
taken with hook and line, at no injury to other fish in
the waters. But, to carve a short road out to riches,
first of all was brought in the cod-seine, which utterly
destroys the chances of the legitimate hook and liners,
if used anywhere near their ground ; and by it, more-
over, tons of young small fish, useless for commerce, are
cast out and thrown aside. Next came in the bultow,
which swept into its maw numbers of heavy mother-
fish, at a consequence to the future which needs no
further explanation. And lastly was introduced the
infernal jigger, which, barbing and tearing among a
shoal of fish, like a Malay running a-muck in a crowd,
for every fish taken by it, possibly injures half a dozen
others cruelly, and finally drives the whole lot, thoroiigiily
frightened, from the bank. Verily, the goose with the
eggs of gold is killed and cooked to perfection.

Thus, it is not difficult to perceive that, in the cod-
fishery — the great harvest and business of the country
— it is, from first to last, a sort of pull-devil, pull-baker

210

Lost Amid the Fogs

sort of system, the evils of which, accumulating for
years, have now begun to be seriously felt. Tiie fisher-
man, with his family, eats his bread long before it is
earned, and then struggles against nature to win a
liopolcss victory. Just as in the gambler's game of
rouge et noir, every now and then great coups by a few
individuals are made, exciting hundreds of others to try
their luck ; yet the cliances, as a standing quantity,
being ever in favour of the "hell," the victims sooner
or later are all cleaned out. So, under this sad svstem
of undue credit and overwhelming charges, the very
first hint of a falling house is the signal for the fisher-
man's revenge upon his creditor ; and, like the rats in
the sinking ship, he turns tail at once, and transfers his
fish (already mortgaged) to another merchant, without
scruple, for cash prices or a new credit, or sells it to the
cute Yankee ever on the watch along the banks for such
a chance.

Far out on the dark -blue waters, and even then
almost too dazzling by the glory of its pure whiteness,
fioats an iceberg like the topsail of some fairy ship
whose hull is hidden beneath the horizon. Looking
northward from our pinnacle, here and there we sec
others gleaming in the rays of the setting sun, borne to
the warmer south by the Arctic current, so fatal to our
hopes of early summer ; but yet fraught, by the All-
wise hand who adjusts the compensating balance of
ixood and evil, with rich blessings for the land we stand
on. It is the cold waters of this ocean-river which
attracts the cold-blooded fish from southern latitudes to

The Harvests of the Ocean.

211

seek their more congenial abode up here. Often was it
said in my hearing — " Ah, what a country this would
be could the Gulf Stream but break upon our shores !
Why — why does it turn away so enviously, so cruelly,
just as its glowing lip touches our longing, sterile
banks? Look at the undulating land, the hills, the
streams, the long reaches of pasture ; and think what a
beauty, what a glory might be here, if but the moist.
warm breath of this great mother of life vivified creation
into a higher state of activity ! " Bnt the great Adjuster
had other uses for tlie land and for the men who were
to dwell on it. True, the Gulf Stream would bring
heat and corn, wine and cattle in abundance ; it might
make tlie land in time " a land flowing with milk and
ho^ey ; " but the men could be no more fishers or
gathercrs-in of the great harvests of the sea, for there
would be none to gjither here. These would liavo passed
to other shores with the colder streams, and the world
would have been all the poorer. The great products of
the ocean-beds must be collected somewhere, and it has
been ordered that it shall be done here, as of the har-
vests of corn and wine in other countries. And sec how
wisely the circle of causes runs round, to keep, restore,
and renew this balance of gifts for the use of man — ay,
of all living creatures. The Arctic current, which now
we are watching from the hill-top, turning aside the
warm waters of the ocean-river, to bloss and fecundate
the coasts of Europe: that river, passing outward from
the great cup of the Caribbean Sea filled to overflowing
by the winds which press the surface of the Atlantic

212

Lost A mid the Fogs.

into a basin from which the guardian istlimus grants
no escape : the winds, sucked hither to a focus from the
colder north, to fill the vacant place ever left by the air,
ascending from the surface of the two great divisions of
the American continent, to rush toward the frozen poles :
line upon line, curve upon curve, circle within circle of
the wonderful machinery working harmoniously together
upon the central pivot of the solar orb. See what a
chain of links is here formed towards apparently one
great end, yet connected with myriads of other chains
encircling the universe, all apparently proceeding from
the same source and working round the same pivot.
Sun and ray, cold and heat, ever changing the specific
gravity and condition of air and water, — causing vast
currents in the elastic covering of the globe, and mighty
ocean-rivers in opposite directions to pierce the waters
which fill the great chasms between earth's continents.
Little does the rude fisherman, now pitching out his
spoils upon the flakes far beneath our feet, think what
stupendous causes, acting through incomprehensible dis-
tances, have brought them to his lines. Yet is the same
vsat machinery at work ever and ever; as ceaselessly
and silently cnga.;^d in perfecting the life of the
meanest blade of grass, as in providing for the luxury
or welfare of the last and chief work of the Creator's
hand ; to teach us that nothing resolves, nothing
changes, throughout the universe, except through fixed,
unalterable laws, of whose mysterious and mutual
lelations we have as yet discovert d but the merest
rudiments.

The Harvests of the Ocean.

213

Ably and straight to the point has a modern writer
witnessed thus : *

" In an age of physical research like the present,
all highly-cultivated minds and duly advanced intel-
lects have imbibed more or less the lessons of in-
ductive philosophy, and have, at least in some mea-
sure, learned to appreciate the grand foundation con-
ception of universal law — to recognise the impossibility
even of awj two material atoms subsisting together
witliout a determinate relation — of any action of tlio one
or the other, whether of equilibrium or of motion, with-
out reference to a physical cause — of any modification
whatsoever in the existing conditions of material agents,
unless through the invariable operation of a series of
eternally- impressed consequences, following in some
necessary chain of orderly connection, however imper-
fectly known to us.

" This operation of a series of eternally-impressed con-
sequences could hardly be described more graphically
<»r forcibly than in the following words of a great Ger-
man philosoplier : 'Let us imagine, for instance, this
grain of sand lying some few feet farther inland tlian
it actually does. Then must the storm-wind that drove
it iu from the seashore have been stroiij;er than it
actually was. Then must the preceding state of tlie
atmosphere, by which the wind was occasioned and its
degree of strength determined, have been difterent from
what it actually was, and the previous changes which

* Quoted from Professor Mansel's Essay on Miracles iu "Aids t»
Faith."

214

Lost Amid the Fogs.

gave rise to this particular weather, and so on. We
must suppose a different temperature from that which
really existed, and a different constitution of the bodies
which influenced this temperature. The fertility or
barrenness of countries, the duration of the life of man,
t'^pend unquestionably, in a great degree, on tempera-
L e. How can you know — since it is not given us to
penetrate the arcana of nature, and it is therefore
allowable to speak of possibilities — how can you know
that in such a state of the weather as we have been
su^t' •'"'^^feS in order to carry this grain of sand a few
yard ' ''::er, some ancestor of yours might not have
perished .! Ci.^ hunger, or cold, or heat, long before thy
bir ^ 0*^ thar rrom whom you are descended; that
thus you iMg^:t, 1 have been at all; and all that

you have done, and all that you ever hope to do in this
world, must have been hindered, in order that a grain
of sand might lie in a different place.' '

Thus, then, it is (setting on one side the other great
consideration in the power of the mind over matter),
that just as the grain of sand by causes traced back
and acting under fixed compensating laws, lies just
where it has been directed by the force of those laws,
so by the same balance of power the hand of Providence,
which created these laws, is, by their operation, checking
the ultimate ruin of this country, even by its apparent
ruin at this moment. The fatal desire for rapid wealth,
which hitlierto has driven its merchants away from their
social duties, must soon give place to a more healthy desire
for promoting the good of the place in which the prime

Tlte Harvests of the Ocean.

215

of their days is passed, even though it should come to
pass hy attending to their own business and comforts.
So long as the fisheries brought enormous profits there
was no hope for the country, for no one of the higher
classes looked to it as a " home." " Liglitly come lightly
go, a jolly game all round," said a rubicund merchant
in my hearing in the ante-room of tlie House of Assembly.
" And," continued the worthy legislator, laughing and
rubbing his hands together, " if my boats'-loads offish
don't come in, my son is pretty sure to pick up some-
body else's at sea."

Even apart from all other consideration of ovcntuid
good, little pity on account of the failure of their trade
do the merchants of Fish-and-fog-land deserve. For
years and years they have drawn away their wealth
and influence from the place, returning few tithes of
gratitude to the Great Giver of their prosperity ; doing
little or nothing for the public good, and separating
themselves as from a contaminated community as soon
as possible. Thus while men of any education fly to
happier lands, you may see here a good many with
thousands upon thousiuids who cannot even write their
own names ; and the great masses of the fish gamblers,
poverty-stricken from the first clieck, unable to rise
in the great human scale generation after generation.
The system strikes at the root of all that is right or
elevating, and keeps the standard of public opinion, if
indeed such a thing can be said to exist at all, at its
very lowest mark.

This, then, was our discourse upon the apex of Signal

210

Lost Amid the Fogs.

Hill, overlooking the harbour, while the last beams of
the departed sun lingered over the western horizon ;
the beauty of the scene spread before us as on a map ;
the great harvests of the ocean proceeding by fixed
yet incomprehensible laws for the food of man ; and the
means of defending this, the great fish granary, from
invasion. Heavily the moisture from a cloudless sky
condensed itself into drops of diamond dew upon the
spearlike grasses, as we descended from the rocky heights,
making the verdure of the garden and the sweetness of
the mignionette for the moment by contrast a thousand
times more grateful to the senses. Ice and snow and
frost are at last forgotten things. We say we can never
tire of walking round by the soft moonlight, amid all
the blossoming fruits, and climbing blessings, almost
imfolding visibly as we look upon their beauty. Now
is the time for the country, we all agree ; " let us go and
see it," is passed by an unanimous vote, and a picnic
party for the next day is formed upon the spot.

On either side of the city of St John's, stretching in
a semi-circle along the rugged coast, at an average
radius from the centre of seven or eight miles, a number
of little fishing coves, or bays, attract, during the sweet
and enjoyable summer, all persons who can command
the use of a horse to revel in their beauties. Each
little bay is but a slice of the high cliffs scooped out
by the friction of the miglity pressure of the Atlantic
waves ; and leading down to its shingled beach, each
boasts of a lovely green valley through which infallibly
a tumbling, noisy trout burn pours back the waters

*o>

The Harvests of the Ocean.

217

picnic

rerage

evaporated from the parent surface. Many were the
pleasant evening drives and picnics we enjoyed in those
charming spots. By one o'clock the carriages were
marshalled in front of Fort William, at Bakehouse
corner, and the signal given for a start. The blue
sleepy waters of the sweet lake, as we passed across
the King's Bridge at Quiddi-Viddi, might alone have
tempted us to stop with their all-sufficient gladness ;
but another mile up hill, and then another across the
Ballyhaly bogs, covered with wild calmias, azaleas,
Indian tea-plants, and a hundred others unknown by
name at least to me, among which the young mi\)Q
were preparing for the sportsmans gun, brought us
to the gates of Virginia Water, the former summer
residence of the governors of Newfoundland, At the
entrance of the dark avenue a rapid rivulet ran busily
across the road, from the shades of a dense wood of
firs, beeches, and birches, which quite concealed the
lake from passers on the road. It is a sheet of deep
water, about three miles in circumference, indented
with little grass-edged bays, fringed and feathered to
the limpid edge with dark dense woods. Often of a
still summer evening, watching the musk-rats cut their
lines along the glassy surface as they swam to the
opposite groves, did I think what a site for a house
might this be for a man with means at his command
to do the thing well. His skating-rink in winter, his
miniature Killarney in summer, the boat-house in the
little sheltered bend, trout-fishing, pleasure-grounds and
garden, wooded hills and autumn shooting, conservatory

218

Lost A mid the Fogs.

and orchard houses, all dependent on skill now well
understood in its' application ; returning to the old
country, say from February to May, wliile the seasons
shifted and reformed themselves; and above all the
revolutions and improvements among social things
which he might create about him. What a i)leasant
held for a man of means, taste, and energy ! How
different a life from rotting idle in the suburbs of
Liverpool or Greenock, on the gains of a land drained
away from their natural outlets !

Thus the dark woods of Virginia on the left, and to
the right the undrained flower-covered flats of Bally-
haly, are passed by, when, from a gentle rise we look
back over both to catch the last glimpse of the dark
hills round the harbour, crowned with the ever- to-be-seen
towers of the Catholic Cathedral. Over the brow of
this hill we turn sharply to the right, down a sheltered
lir-lined avenue, where the long trailing branches of the
cone-shaped spruces, intermingled with the graceful
lady birches, might .almost tempt a new-born Ovid to
sing of fairy transformations, and weeping women
awaiting a return to human shape and semblance.
Here and there glints of golden buttercui)pcd meadows
break for an instant between the dark walls of green ;
and as the narrow road winds we catch a few inches of
cobalt far beyond, of purple cliffs crowned, as they
always are on a bright day such as this, with that mys-
terious indefinable haze of gladness which hovers over
the union of earth and sea. Out of the dark avenue a
zigzag path, leading of course to a noisy boulder-be-

The Harvests of (he Ocean.

219

wildereil stream, de^icends in a gap of the great cliffs to
the water ; and when we crossed the rickety wooden
bridge, near the shanties in the hollow, the sea in all
its beauty at Logie Bay burst suddenly upon us. In
the feeble shelter, afforded by the projection of the clifl's
in a shallow arc, is one of the many little outlying fish-
ing communities who supply the merchants with their
produce. Here, in the summer only, live the fishers
and their families, in huts and shanties of turf and
boughs intermingled, erected on the sward on the edge
of the smooth rocks close to the flakes, where they un-
ceasingly watch the drying and curing of the fish.
This, if not attended to, and covered in from a passing
shower, would be utterly spoilt. Ah ! it is delicious, in
this hot sunmier noontide, to sit under the shade of xi
huge boulder, and watch the leap of the rivulet ovur
the last ledge of rocks into the briny ocean. Boneatli
our feet, in the chasm, the spray of the little waterfall
has charmed the fronds of the bright green ferns into
larger life and beauty ; and tiny feet risk tumbles and
slips to pluck them from their niches in the rocks.
Before us, in the vast expanse of soft hazy ocean blue,
the white sails of the fishing smacks chequer the surface
thickly; while here and there the spout of a whale
makes the children cry with wonder at the seeming
mystery of the upheaved waters. A long line of cork-
jointed netting, undulating like a snake by the lift and
fall of the sluggish wave, stretches along the arc of the
bay from cliff to cliff; and before we leave, many a
lovely specimen of the silver-guarded king of fish is

^iuii

220

Lost A mid the Fogs.

offered for sale. Down in the boot of the carriage,
tenderly covered with ferns and grasses, we stow away
a noble salmon for to-morrow's breakfast, just as the
signal is given by our leader for a fresh start to the
other bays of the adjacent coast.

Over the hills at the back of the great cliffs, past field
and homestead plucked from the wild fruit-bearing
barrens, and down again by a winding road, garnished
thickly with copse of birch and jiine ; until we meet
the merry stream at the bottom of the vale, where the
great cliffs again foil back to let the curious Pca
come and take a nearer view of earth's glory within.
Here, between the sheltering sides of Middle Cove,
the Atlantic waves tumble everlastingly on a pebbly
beach ; while (something like a huge monster with
open mouth and gaping jaws) between the cliffs i
stretched a web of flakes in intricate mazy coh
fusion. Fish, — fish, — fish, is the only thought of
the fishermen's brains in summer time, with here and
there a glance after the pig, fed, alack ! on the fish offal
with which the pebbles under the flakes are thickly
larded. We look around in vain for the trim gardens
Avhich should be here in a dell, bright as an emerald
with nature's sweetest colours, inviting man in speaking
living words to come and seek her gifts. In vain she
cries ; there is a possibly shorter road to wealth, or at
least coarse food at their doors, and to that alone they
turn.

Under the network of interlacing flakes, amid a crowd
of hungry curs and pigs fighting for the fish-waste fes-

The Ilurvcats of the Ocean.

221

tering in heaps, we pushed for the i)urc bright air of the
wide free beach, and there belield a sight especial to
these shores. Tiie sea, locked between the arms of the
i-lifFs and far out towards tlie curved horizon as eye
could reach, was alive with fish, which had actually
taken the very place of the waters. The harvest of the
capling, a little fellow about six inches long something
between a smelt and a silver eel, had set in, and stu-
pendous was the multitude of fish. When the lift of
the wave touched or receded from the pebbly beacli,
boys and girls gathered in the spoil as fast as tiioy had
strength; while farther up towards the flakes huge
mounds of the wriggling glittering fish awaited carting
inland. It was literally here the old story i the man
who could open oysters faster than another could eat
them. Here they actually caught fifsh before our eyes
a hundred times faster than they could be carted
uway !

" Would yer honner buy a bucket-full ? " cried an
urchin in natural knickerbockers, who wielded an old
butter-tub with a string, like David armed to meet
Goliah. In went the would-be bucket among the surf
as far as the string could reach, and was instantly hauled
l)ack full of quivering fish.

" Shall I take them up to yer honncr's carriage for
two coppers," pursued the urchin ; while fifty others all
along the stretch of beach cast in their tubs or buckets,
and pitched the harvest in heaps above high water
mark. The little beggars ran out into the surf, and
stood up to their hips, not in water but in fish ; ay, of

222

Lost Am^d the Fogs.

the numbers of the multitudes, now for hundreds of
miles round the coast of Fish-and-fog-land, no man
could jiresume to guess within scores of scores of mil-
lions.

Where they come from, these awful shoals of ani-
mated creatures, to spread their eggs upon every shallow
bit of water round these shores, or whither the vjist
numbers of survivors go, no one knows ; few care. The
poorest at this time are gorged with the delicate food ;
the whales, cod, and mackerel swallow huge quantities ;
and heaps upon heaps are spread broadcast over the
fields for manure, a practice as stupid as it is short-
sighted. Nature, careful of her gifts and riches, never
intended the harvest of life to be used to so vile and
wasteful a purpose, without first undergoing prepara-
tions by other necessary transitions. Tlie farmer, by
using the fish as a manure, enriches his pastures for a
season, but impoverishes the ground rapidly ; while, in
revenge for the outrage, vast myriads of insects, grubs,
and caterpillars, are developed from the putrid soil,
suddenly over-enriched, and which soon spread havoc
wholestile in fields and gardens on every side.

Not homeward yet ; for when we strike again the
turn down into Logic Bay, by which we have completed
(tur gero, the carriages with one accord diverge into a
gate and cross the lise of a field, until they pull up at
the doors of a whitewashed cottage on the edge of a fir
grove facing the distant city. Scattered all about the
field, many of our party were already busy among the
crannies of the rocks, searching out from their fairy

Tlie Harvests of the Ocean.

22\\

haunts the wild strawberries, too easily revealed by their
blushing beauty in the slanting rays of the setting sun.
Under the deep shadows of the firs, a rough table
groaned with tea, hot cake, and golden cream to match
the fragrant fruit ; around, the broad fronds of tlie
tender ferns, intermingled with stars of Bethlehem and
many other flowers, all in the tremble of a gentle sym-
I»hony of happiness to the departing breeze of evening.
It was a spot where, at such a moment, one might in
very liappiness cast off the cares and dust of busy life at
the echo of the children's voices down in the deep of the
woods, joyous with the prizes of the modest fruit.
God only knows what secret cares and sins rankled
in the hearts of those around that merry table : wo
ourselves only knew them cast away for those moments
of our too quickly passing joy. Even in that Fish-
and-fog-land, so far far away from the thoughts of the
poet when he wrote the lines, we could sing with him
of our summer evening thus : —

" Oil ! tlion tlic heart sfoins husln'il, afraid tn Ix-at
In the (1('0|) a1)si'ii(i' of all otlicr soiiiid ;
And lionu' is soii^dit with loath and lin>.,'i'iin,Li IVi't,
As if that shining' track of fairy ^nonnd,
Oncf left and lost, shonld never nmre lie found.
And hajtpy seems the life which eipsies lead,
Who spread their tents where mossy nooks altouiid :
In nooks where unplucked wild lloweis shed their seed ;
A canvas-spreading tent the only mid' they iieeil."

i !l!

Sic transit ; even like all other things terrcstial. Tiic
deep shades of the solemn firs blend earth, and flower.

224

Lost Amid the Fogs.

w '

and tree, together in mingled gloom, whence, down in
the far recesses, came back now and then the ringing
laughter of the maids and children. Just as the horses
were putting to, in they came, fern-crowned, with fra-
grant blossoms drooping from every hat. There was
some little dispute among them as to the merits of the
Atalantaof the group; when, amid the babel of friendly
repartees, a young lady of some eighteen summers, pre-
tending to stand on her dignity, exclaimed,

" Bah ! if I get one minute's start, no one shall catch
me before I return to the carriage."

" Done with you, Miss Kate," returned a smart young
fellow, ready enough at such a chance ; while the clap-
ping of hands at the novelty of the race almost started
the sober nags out of their propriety.

So out came the watches with minute hands ready to
do their part, and at the word "start," off she flew,
vanishing like a sprite into the gloom. Sixty seconds
after, away sped the pursuer, and he too vanished out of
sight. Five, ten minutes passed, the ladies chatted,
the horses pawed the turf Another quarter of an hour
and then another. We grew impatient; the ladies
fractious. Then we began to shout, until the woods
rang with the dull echoes of our voices. Not a sign of
response from the truants. Another half hour, and the
cry was, " What was to bo done ? " It was a beautiful
star-light night, but tlie woods were as dark as pitch.
We lighted pine torches, and began shouting and ex-
ploring the paths, but all in vain ; and when we returned
to the carriages the ladies could stand it no longer.

The Harvests of the Ocean.

225

" What a strange girl !" said one.

" So extremely inconsiderate," cried another.

" Can she possibly be drowned ?" suggested a third.

" Impossible, ma'am ; there is no pond about tliis
jjlace," said the farmer's wife.

" Perhaps she has struck her head against a tree,
and is unable to rise."

" Then surely he would have returned for help."

It was very mysterious, very. But we could not stop
there all night, so at half-past eleven, the women, full
of sinister forebodings, beat a retreat, and not knowing
exactly what to eay to the friends of the lost girl, drove
straight to her door : when, lo ! to our amazement and
consternation, there she stood, while round the back oi
the shrubberies, by another gate, there sneaked oil' a*
figure uncommonly like that of the gentleman-pur-
suer. With the most charming innocence she expiessed
surprise at our late return, and when asked to explain
where she had been, naively said, " Oh ! we had a long
chase, — so long you can't think, — and you know ho
caught me just at the end of the wood; so we thought
you had all gone, and that we hud better walk liome,
you know ; such a lovely night, we quite enjoyed it."

Not a doubt of it ! poor stupid owls that we wore, not
to understand the dodge before this. But it dichi't sur-
prise me, some short time after, to hear a lady say to
another, " Do you know, n)y dear, they say that Lizzie

W is engaged to Mr II ! who 'd a thought

it?"

" Why, any one, ma'am, who had seen that fictitious

226

Lost Amid the Fogs.

chase in the dark wood, and the summer moonlight
walk across Virginia Wood afterwards ; if that wasn't
enough to settle a man's hash with a pretty girl, the
deuce and all's in it, ma'am ; and we were precious green
not to see it all before. "

Yes ; this is summer in Newfoundland ; when we
taboo the fish imd fogs very cheerily, and think the
ferny dells, if not so grand, yet fresher with Atlantic
dews than any other valleys of earth. If, with its
brightness, there are drawbacks (for the sparks fly
upwards everywhere), still, thank heaven, we know
nothing of the suffocating siroccos, the stifling dust-
storms, the hard, dry east winds, the blasting breath of
the simoom, which desolate other and sunnier lands.
And if the compensating balance of God's providence
in good and evil was poised for this green Erin across
the Atlantic, the scale of blessings would, in the judg-
ment of considerate discerning men, preponderate
against the cup of miseries, largely in favour of the
dwellers in the often lost land of Fish-and-fog.

CHAPTER XIV.

AUTUMN— THE FIRST DAY OF THE SEASON.

across
judg-
)nderate
of the

RELY this is spring!" would exclaim a
stranger from the old country, as he
looked at the peas and scarlet-runners
in full bloom. " Nay," might reply
another, busy among the strawberry-beds, " it is surely
summer ! " Yet it is autumn all the same, witli spring
and summer so closely left behind that they are inter-
mingled pleasantly yet confusedly together. It is the
time for especial enjoyment to Wolfe and myself, and,
alack the day ! to too many others such as us. For
the grouse are reported strong on the wing along the
upland breezy barrens ; and about the end of August
we are very busy preparing to give them an early
call.

It is at last come to the evening before the eventful
day of the year, the 25th of August, on whicli the
Legislature has directed that grouse-shooting sliould
commence; the only precaution (unhappily) as yet
taken for the protection of this noble game. The sun
was descending behind the purple hills amid bands of

228

Lost Amid the Fogs.

gold and red, tinting all round with the gladness of
a fair to-morrow ; and the brown face of my friend
Wolfe was bent deep in thought against the lintel of
my little garden-wicket. The inner consultation was
indeed momentous, being no less than concerning the
route we should follow for the first day's shooting, a
great number of considerations influencing the decision.

" 1 think," said he, looking up at last, " we'd better
take the Cody's Well ground, and shoot down towards
Tor Bay."

" Very good ; but you know that Grant and
Thompson are gone to encamp out there, and are sure
to be before us."

" Umph ! it's no use going to the Three-Pond
Barrens, or the Deer's Marsh, or Petty Harbour. I
know twenty parties going to each. What do you say
to Broad Cove ? "

" »Splcndid ! but an awful road part of the way to
get at it ; better take something easier first of all, so
as to be early on the ground, — that 's the main point."

" Then let's try Flat Rock, and we can pick up Jem
Strongback on the way ; he knows every inch of the
ground, and we could liardly do better than take the first
day with him. I spoke to him about a month ago."

This settled, the burly form of my friend slowly
vanished in the gloaming under the shadow of the
balsam-poplars which lined the road towards his house.
Less than six hours after, before the deep violet of the
White Hills shaded into a distinctive hue of their own,
we met again. He was standing in his porch with

Autumn — The First Day of the Season. 229

dog and gun, waiting for the phaeton. It was worth
this rise before dawn to see the sparkle in Rover's eye,
responsive to the iieavy flap of his tail upon the ground,
as he waited the order to jump in and coil himself
away beneath our feet. Five minutes to pack the
trap snugly with ammunition and basket of prog ; stow
Green, my man, and the dog behind ; and then away
we go down across the King's Bridge, witli a snift' of
the dews and fogs brooding heavy over the lake, and
four miles on over hilly ground, past the little farms
all fast in sleep, till pulling up at Jem's, we saw his
little gig ready, and his dogs all yelping for a start.
Jem Strongback was a sort of mixture of farmer and
publican, with a dash of the fisherman in his comi)osi-
tion, and a capital shot into the bargain; tliemore's
the pity, as he was well known to be a sad destroyer
of game out of season. He was an Englishman, and
a hardworking, simple sort of fellow, about forty years
of age, turning his hand at something or other to support
an enormous string of olive-branches. All the summer
he took in cattle by contract from the butchers of the
city to fatten on the rich grasses of tlie wild barrens,
at so much a head : so as these hundreds of beasts
roamed where they pleased over the vast leas, moors,
bogs, and woods ; Jem knew every iucli of the country,
and in his continual wanderings after stray cattle (for
which if lost he had to pay) found out the haunts of
every brood and covey of grouse, and every snipes
nest in the peninsula. Not that IMister Jem always
showed us the cream of these^ golden spots; but wlu)

230

Lost Amid the Fogs.

could blame a man with his living dependant on this
knowledge ? Moreover, Jem was a liberal, honest fellow
enough ; and here he was at his doorway on the instant
at the sound of the wheels, his broad face ruddy with
the reflection of the great wood fire therein, over which,
<{uite regardless, he had evidently been filling a powder-
flask, still in his hand with the top unscrewed.

" Get down, gentlemen, get down. Jim, hold to the
horse. Come in and take a cup of tea and an Q^g.
1 'm short of caps ; that rascal of a boy, Jim, was after
the snipe yesterday, down the hollow along. I 'd orders
for two dozen for Mrs IMare, and he 's fired all away on
me. Have ye ere a few ye can spare ? I 'm thankful
to ye, sir."

•' Well, Jem, what do you say ? shall we take the
Flat Rock ground ?"

" No better, no better ! them barchies over the rise
of the hill beyond the pond has eight coveys, if there 's
one. Down Ponto, down I say ; Juno lass shall have
H bit. Look at her, gentlemen, there 's a skin on her
like silk ; ye never saw a little pointer with a truer
nose. It'll be a grand morning when the sim's up,
and we 's better be moving along."

" I 've brought my setter. Rover, you know," said
Wolfe. " Two dogs will be quite enough."

" Well, then, I '11 be after taking Juno ; a pointer 's
better on a hot day, though there's plenty of water
everywhere. Hie up, lassie. Jack, catch up Ponto,
and shut him up. All ready, gentlemen."

Poor Ponto ! what a miserable, long-drawn howl it

Autumn — The First Day of the Season. 231

rise

said

was which stung our ears as we drove off. He knew
just as well as we did that it was the first day of tlie
season, and his true setter's heart had just been beatinj^
fifty to the dozen at the thoughts of the sport. It was
a mercy to get under the lee of the grove of pines to
shut out such distress from sympathising ears, and to
urge the steeds fast over the five miles between Jem's
house and the steep hill which winds down into the
village of Tor Bay. At the bridge, over the noisy stream
which bisects the deep valley, the road forks ; the left
running up into a great barren towards Portugal Cove,
and the right, which we followed, leaning still coast-
wise. Just as we sprung the opposite rise, Jem shouted
back from his gig —

" Hark to 'em, sir ! hark to 'em ! pull up a minute."

The weak report of a gun, and then another, about
two miles distant, came murmuring down the glen.

" Hark to 'em, sir ! that 's the Doctor's party ; they
must have camped out on the Cody's Well ground, and
they '11 take the Indian-meal Barrens. They can't see
yet, but they 're trying the guns, to make all right. Go
ahead, sir."

Some fifteen minutes after this we turned to the left
into a narrow rutty path, which led up the slope of the
hill, thickly fringed with overhanging spruces and
brushwood, all dank and drojiping with heavy dew.
About a mile of this natural shower-bath, brought
another signal from Jem for a halt ; the word to un-
harness was given, and we jumped out on a lovely bit
of sward among the thickets.

' *

The dogs and

guns

232

Lost Amid the Fogs.

seemed to shake themselves together by magic. Green,
my man, had orders to find a camping-ground near a
rill of water — no difficult matter in Fish-and-fog-land
— and to have the kettle boiling bv ten o'clock. Then
spoke up Jem Strongback with autliority —

" Now, Kiurnal, d'ye sec the bare head of the hill
above the bushes? we'll take all round that before
breakfast ; it 's all open, lovely ground up there : hie in
good dogs ; steady, now, Juno lass, steady ! "

It might have been a third of a mile through the
wood, wetted tlu'ougli and through by tlie dripping
ferns, while every now and then the sharp warning
" kiar-kiar," of an old cock bristled every nerve with
excitement, when the taller timber began to give place
to a smaller more open undergrowth, and the white
rock to be bare, save of the blue-berries and rasi)berries
in the little chinks and knolls round its base. " Easy
now," cried Jem, " easy now all ; let the dogs hunt
round a bit."

" Hist ! " cried Wolfe, " hist ! the dogs are drawing ;
steady, Kover, steady."

Is there a lovelier sight in all nature than to watch
the faithful and intelligent servants of man, true to
their instincts, exerting their innate, unseen gifts in his
favour ? Mark their quivering nerves, stiffening to the
tips of their tails as the scent grows hotter, then paus-
ing, thoughtful, or advancing step by step, towards the
covey, concealed yet surely felt 1

Round the gray rock they led us slowly, with fingers on
the trigger, and then stood like the rock itself, a picture

Autumn — The First Day of the Season. 233

for the sculptor ; right fore-paw balanced lightly, and
every other limb and muscle rigid as a statue. The
silence was sepulchral for that long long minute, until
the very brain seemed dizzy with the strain ; when —

" Whirr, whirr, whirr, whirr," on all sides ; and the
bang, bang, bang, of six muzzles dissolved the painful
spell.

For my part I saw notliing but a cloud of white,
rising in the low blue-berries between us and the brush-
wood and whirling like lightning round the base of the
rock. I fir(?d, but with what result I knew no more
than Adam. Not so with Wolfe and Jem.

" I covered one, I 'm certain," cried Wolfe.

•* Oh ! there must be a brace and a half of 'cm in
the trees; faith, I saw one tumble," rejoined Mister
Jem.

" How many were tliere ? "

" Fourteen, and the old cock, I believe ; we ought to
have had three brace ; a splendid rise ! "

" Good dog, Eover," cried Wolfe, as soon as he was
reloaded ; " seek, find, good dog."

" Hi in, Juno, lassie ! seek him out," chimed in Jem ;
but not a feather could be discovered. The fact is, that
the covey in the rise had wheeled suddenly round the
rock, and we had all fired behind them. There was, of
course, a great deal of protestation about birds lost, and
then we thought it best to move on.

Quietly over the open behind the rock, stealing,
crunching down the low fruit-laden bushes, and watch-
ing every sign of the dogs ; suddenly, about two hun-

234

Lost Amid the Fogs.

tired yards on, Juno pointed to the right, and instantly
again to the left.

" Hist ! " cried Jem ; " spread out a bit ; the covey 's
scattered here, and may be we '11 pick 'em all up. D'ye
hear the old cock bawling ? "

" Whirr ! " from beneath his very feet, as he spoke,
rose a bird, which he tumbled over ; and at the report
of his gun another, and another, which all fell to our
mark ; I missing my second barrel, and Wolfe wiping
me neatly in a long shot. Just as the lower limb of
the red sun rose over the horizon, our first birds of the
season were stowed in our bags.

Over the woody crest of the hill, from knoll to knoll,
we beat the ground carefully, rising four more coveys
within a mile or so, and picking eight or ten birds out
of them ; when Rover, stopping short beneath a clump
of birches on the edge of the copse, began circling round
and round, until Juno took up the hot scent in the
same way, without making anything of it. At last Jem
called them off, " Gone, gone, Juno lass — gone I say.
Captain, you call off Rover — he wont mind me." But
not a bit of it ; the dogs began increasing the circle of
range, the scent if possible growing hotter, when sud-
denly Rover started straight off at right angles to a
clump of raspberries, fifty yards away, and there stood
like a rock. At the sound of our approach, a mar
nificent old cock rose to wing, with a " Ca, ca >
was tumbled over by Wolfe or Jem, both cla. g tli^
bird. It was worth claiming, for a more hjilondifl
handful was never picked up. The scarlet tips over hi

Autumn — The First Day of the Season. 235

ondifl

eyes glistened like rubies, and his rich brown and
purple plumage, with a tip of white here and there,
from the glossy head to the spray feathers on his toes,
bespoke the fine condition of the noble game. With
what a thud the fellow came to mother earth, and what
a handful he was to pick up ! Stuff him into the bag
over your broad shoulders, Wolfe, my friend ; three or
four brace of those beauties will make you smile again,
as you breast the hill when the sun is up.

" Where the deuce and all is Juno ? " cried Jem.
" She 's on a bird, and I 've never seed her since Rover
pointed the old cock. I '11 tell you what it is, that old
varmint has led us away from the covey, and Juno 's on
•em."

*' Hi in, Rover, good dog ! hark back here ; seek 'cm
out."

We were standing in an " open" of low ankle-deep
shrubs, mingled with seed-grasses, mosses, wild straw-
berries, and creeper-covered stones, all surrounded by
knots of firs and lady birches, thickly fringed with
drooping dewy ferns; and the dog, after snuffing
around with nose high in air, led us through the thickest
of the screen towards a rock, whose gray head was
just visible over the highest branches. The boughs of
the spruces were so close and tough that it was difficult
to follow the dog ; but at last we had our reward. On
the nether edge Jem stopped with finger up, jwinting
with intense admiration to his beauty Juno, transformed
into a marble Niobe. In and out among the stones and
small brushwood ran a number of grouse-chicks, about

236

Lost Amid the Fogs.

a fortnight old, following the eager call of the mother,
whose featliers shone like frosted silver in the slanting
beams of the rising sun. It was as pretty a sight as
one might well see on a shooting-tramp, and not the
least to watch the eye of the dog, doubtless puzzled at
our inaction at what, no doubt, she thought a wonderful
chance. I'robably the first brood had perished from
wet or vermin, and the brave parents had set to work to
rear another. The little ones ran round our feet quite
fearlessly, and chiruppcd there, until the mother, hop-
ping from stone to stone, wooed them away into the
thicket ; while we, whistling to the dogs, turned away
in another direction, with a sad regret that the sapient
old cock had fallen a victim to his paternal love and
instinct.

Delicious as was the work and walk while the sun
remained low, yet, when the dew was fairly lapped up
from the grasses and ferns, the thermometer of our
enjoyment gradually subsided, and at the same rate tlu;
birds disappeared. Wise in their own way, they sought
the thick impenetrable spruce covers for shelter ; and
the light open birches and brushwood, their favourite
haunts morning and evening, were deserted. After ten
o'clock, by which time the heat was almost insupport-
able, we licver saw a feather. The dogs began to Haj;'
visibly ; and the moment wo stopped to consult about
our way among the tangled paths of the thicket, lay
down at our feet with heaving sides and panting
tongues.

" It's no good any more now," cried Jem. •* Gentle-

Autumn — The First Day of the Season. 237

men, if ye 'II stop here a minute I'll climb up that bit
of a hill and look out for Green's fire."

Three minutes after we saw him on the top of the
lock looking eagerly around seawards; then came a
holloa to us, while his hand pointed the direction we
were to take. In half an hour, from the crest of a
bluff, we saw the blue smoke curling out of that vast
sea of bush, and soon reached the little camping-
ground, which had been well selected by Master Green.
It lay under the lee of a huge moss-covered boulder,
above which the spruces and lady-birches trembled in
the breeze ; while round its base there curled the clearest
of rills, springing out of the ferns on the rise above.
Before us the eye r.wept over hill and barren, meadow,
copse, and loch, to the fishing-hamlets on the blulf
coast, where the white- washed cottages confused them-
selves in the burning haze with the fishers' sails out on
the opal sea beyond. Our little baskets of prog — haid-
boiled eggs, cold tongue, fowl, and sandwiches, with a
screw of salt — lay ready open, and the kettle on the
embers gave out the fragrant essence of tea. We
allowed no beer or wine on these expeditions until the
sun was gone down ; and Green had as much as he
could well do to get a mouthful in tlie intervals oi
l»assing round the hissing kettle to us thive huiiL,M-y
and thirsty hunters. Uut as all things come to an end,
so did this luxury. Wolte and dem began to load their
l)ipe8, and, of course, to fight the morning's work over
again. Every bird tiuit had risen 'vas discussed amid a
little friendly jeering and jealousy. Aiuid that clatter.

238

Lost Amid the Fogs.

my head resting on a mossy stone, somehow one began
to fancy that, across the haze of the burning air, the
wliite boats of the fishermen, in the far distance, were
wheeling together in a mazy dance. That was the last
idea, ere the drowsy god passed his hand across the
scene and shut it out of view.

One, two, three, four hours ! impossible to believe,
yet, looking at the sun, it must so have been. What
was it startled us in our doze ? for Wolfe was leaning
on his elbow, looking eagerly about, and Jem, with his
hand across his eyebrows, was peering right and left
across the horizon. Ah ! is that it ? W^ith a wild
scream a flight of curlew, following their leader in
wedge-like flight, dashed past almost over our heads ;
then wheeling here, there, and round and round as they
distanced, pitched on the bare brow of a barren hill
about half a mile off.

" My stars ! " cried Jem ; " catch up the dogs. Green ;
hold 'em tight, and don't let 'em stir, Come on, sir, —
come on ; we '11 'count for some of them chaps. Bully
for me, but there 's a flock of turkey ones ! "

Down the hill we rushed full tear, and through the
matted brushwood, until brought up sharp by the
stream which roars and tumbles through the gorge.
It was something to consider how to pass the whirling
waters — deejier than the knee, and maddened by ob-
structing boulders. While we hesitated, glancing round
for a good spot, Jem was ou the grass clutching at his
stockings.

ii '

Autumn — The First Day of the Season. 239

" Faix," cried he, "I wish we had the Bishop here,
to give us a hoist over."

" The Bishop ! what on earth do you mean ? "

" I mane the Bishop, gentlemen — Bishop Field — and
nothing but liira. I heard of one of ray friends, who
was out with him and the clargy, down the coast, on a
confirming business ; they was walking across from one
station to another, when suddenly they comes to a
stream like this, I take it. None of the parsons would
cross. It looked nasty. So down went the Bishop on
the stones, whips off his gaiters and socks, and turns
round quite gaily — 'Now then, gentlemen,' says he,
* which of ye will I lift over first ? ' They had to face
it after that ; and it very nigh swept them all off"."

Could we do less than the Bishop? or follow the
example of Jem's happy hit? In two minutes, with
linked arms, we were battling amid the boulders, and
in five more breasting the opposite slopes, until at last,
pretty well blown, we stand steaming under the spot
on which we guess the quarry had pitched.

" Easy, gentlemen ; down on your knees — creep up —
don't show," whispered Jem hoarsely, as he glided from
stone to stone and from bush to bush, until he reached
the very crest of the brow. His head was just on a
level, and he was drawing the gun up stealthily to the
jmise, when away they all went about seventy yards
ahead with a scream and a joyous v/liistle, contenii)tuous
as it was shrill. Jem wiped his streaming forehead, and
" darned 'em all " heartily in true colonial style. Many

IT
ii

■^-^^H|-»7r"

240

Lost Amid the Fogs.

1 1

a chevy after the wary beggars I had afterwards, and
never bagged one — no, not one. I coukl never manage
to get within range, although about this time they are
jdentiful on the high barrens, flying from tlieir breeding-
grounds in the north of Newfoundland and Labrador to
the swamps of Louisiana and Florida. But the boys of
the town would sometimes stalk them successfully, for
the little scamps could creep behind stones and stumps,
which were " foolishness " to me or Wolfe. They gener-
ally found tlieir way then to the hospitable table of the
Governor. " Colonel," I fancy I hear the old gentleman
.saying now, " Let me send you one of these ; ye ne'er
tasted a better, I 11 be sworn." Heigho ! for the past ;
those were great birds, indeed, and so were the days
when we ate them.

The word was given to go back for the dogs, and wo
faced the dense thickets again with parched mouths,
after our useless climb. It was heavy work casting
aside the tough brandies ; the sun was hot enough still
to make such exertion unpleasant ; yet, for all that, it
made a little surprise, which there befell us, all the
sweeter. ISuddonly we burst through into a little clear-
ing, not more than twenty yards across, in which there
stood two or three wild cheny-trees loaded with fruit —
perhaps such fruit as might have been des})ised in
Covent Garden by the side of May-dukes or jNIorellas,
but to us inexpressi; ^' gniti'ful with its little drop of
sharp subacid iu eacu cherry, no bigger than a red
currant, and clear as the briglitest of IJohemian glass.

" Now, cap'u,' said Jem. wlien he had well cleared

Autumn — The First Day of the Season. 241

i, and
anage
2y are
;(ling-
clor to
»0V8 o£

\y, tor
:uinps,
gener-
of the
tleraan
e ne'er
5 past ;
e (lays

bleared

his tree, *' we have to make up for this bout ; we '11 take
this side of the pond down to the road, and then to the
big hill anent the sea. There 's half a dozen coveys I
knows of there."

All agreed. The dogs soon got their heads again, a
sweet little breeze sprung up, and like giants refreshed
we started for our evening's sport. Hard by the roac?
which forks off to Cove and Cape St Francis, a small
lake, fringed with alder and willow, and ribboned into
little shady bays, receives the waters of the rill of our
late bivouac. On the slopes above we were pressing
through the dense wood, when Jem, who was leading,
stopped, and with a gesture of his hand imposed silence.

" What is it ? " cried Wolfe softly.

*' Listen, Cap'n, listen ! "

" Quack, quack, qua, qua, qua ! " faintly heard, yet
not very far oft'.

*' Call in the dogs, whistle 'em in ! Juno, lie down,
down charge ! go to heel, good dog ! "

" Qua, qua, qua, qua," still more faintly, but the
dogs caught it, and cocked their ears perceptibly.
Down on our knees we dropped, i)arting the branches
noiselessly towards the lake, ^tep by step, inch by
inch, we crept towards the call. 1 lost sight of my
friends behind a bush, just as we could see the gleam
of the waters through the leaves and twigs ; when
suddenly, " bang" on one side, "bang, bang" on the
other, put an end to my prospects of a shot. A terrible
splutter, and then the quacking ceased for ever. With
the end of a long stick, Jem fished on shore a brace of

242

Lost Amid the Fogs.

fine black ducks, with the blue badge on the wing.
Except the canvas-back of the Potomac, there is no
wild fowl equal to this fellow. They are highly prized
in Newfoundland, not being over plentiful, and rarely
seen except in pairs. Our prize was a great addition
to the bag, and almost made amends for the fruitless
chase after the curlews.

Across the road, laughing and talking, then down
into a lane winding through the tall overhanging
brushwood for nearly a mile, until, just at the ford of
a little brook, where a few big stones were dotted here
and there for crossing, almost beneath our feet sprang
a covey, the gleam of their white wings being seen but
for an instant as they topped over the low wood.

" Mark ! mark ! mark ! " cried out one and all. " I
see them," said Jem ; " pitched just in a little hollow
over them lot of firs."

" Humph ! " said Wolfe, " that comes of talking, with
dogs at heel, and not hunting."

" Who would have thought of meeting them here,
right in the track ? "

" You never can tell where they will be of an even-
ing, they come out into walks and by-paths after the
droppings, and especially where there 's running water.
Look out now," pursued Jem ; " let the dogs go ahead
a bit."

They led us up the side of a hill, at an angle of
about C0°; and although it was evening, rivers ran
from our faces ere we had breasted the top fairly.
Here, among the fir copses, intersected with paths,

Autumn — TJte First Day of the Season. 243

wing.

is no

jrized

rarely

dition

aitless

down
mging
Ford of
d here
sprang
;en but

II. "1
hollow

ijr, with

I " '

here,

In even-
[ter the

water.

ahead

Ingle of
|ers ran

fairly.

paths,

Kover and Juno tracked warily, noses to ground, but
on the scent. Up one of these dark tracks, carpeted
with generations of brown fir leaves, Wolfe and I
followed the dogs ; but as the scent soon grew less
warm, I turned back quickly to try another, wlien, in a
little clearing round a leafy corner, what should I sec
but Master Jem, the cunning old fox, gun to shoulder,
in the very act of "potting" a magnificent covey,
about fifty paces in front of him. Off went his barrels,
and as it was too late I held my tongue, rejoicing,
nevertheless, to see that only one bird out of twenty
rose at the report with drooping wing; the shot had
glanced off the well-protected coats of the others.
Down bustled Wolfe with the dogs, and we (juickly
picked up three brace of the scattered tribe ; the scent
gradually leading to an open on the very edge of the
cliff, whence we saw the long line of iron-bound coast
towards St John's, dotted with the white fishing-hamlets,
and their neat edgings of field and copse. As we circled
round back towards the hill again, Jem stopped to
listen, and backed the dogs with eager gesture.

" Look, Cap'n ! don't you see 'em ? there they hop ;
two, five, seven, ten — there ! "

Wolfe strained his eyes, so did I, but all in vain.

"Where?" we whispered; "where? What ate
they?"

"Look!" said Jem; "do you see that grey, mossy
stone, about a hundred yards ahead? the big one, just
to the right of it, — there they hop."

Now wc made them out, though not easily, so similar

■'1

244

Lost Amid the Fogs.

was the colour of the birds to the ground they select
to feed on. Warily we moved towards them, guided
as much by the whistling of the plovers as anything
else.

" Wait," whispered Jem, " wait ; they '11 clump up
together, and then we 11 fire ; it 's a long shot yet."

In about ten seconds more, bang went all the guns
together. Four of the birds lay on the ground, and
two or three of the rest flew away with trailing wing.
Wolfe dashed after one ; I after another, which dis-
appeared suddenly behind a low boulder. Almost
stumbling in my haste over the spot I expected to
find the bird, I barely had time to draw up shuddering
to see the stone projected half its short breadth over
the perpendicular sea-clift' of four hundred feet, where,
at the base beneath my amazed eye, true as a plummet-
line, broke the hoarse Atlantic breakers. Some great
landslip must have occurred here to undermine the
guardian escarp of earth ; one step more forward and
the hand now holding the pen would have been hidden
for ever beneath that boiling foam.

It was tune to turn homeward ; edging the woods
as we walked, and picking up several birds among
the open glades, to which towards sunset they always
resort, liy this time, after several smart shots be-
tween Wolfe and Jem, the former had bagged nine
brace of grouse, and tlie latter eight-and-a-half. So
when we crossed the road towards our shooting-ground
of the morning, ]\Iaster Jem said, carelessly enough as
it were —

Autumn — The First Day of the Season. 245

" Now, Cap'n, I tell you what, that 's a desperate
heavy wood to the right. If you take the road, and
walk on a'jout lialf a mile, the Kiurnal and 1 11 turn
down into this bit of a path, and meet you round.
Maybe we '11 pick up a bird or two as we go."

" All right," said Wolfe, as he went ott' leisurely up
tlie road to the left.

The moment he was out of sight, Jem dashed into
the jungle path, and walked more than a quarter of a
mile at the top of his speed. " Come on, Kiurnal," ho
cried; "we'll circumvent 'em this time." Beneath a
sharp rise on our left he dashed head foremost into tlio
thick wood, tearing through it, and climbing over the
clost-set obstacles as if his very life deitcnded on it.
All I could elicit was, " Come on, Kiurnal, come on ;
push up now, we 're close on." At length, as lie was
grasping the trunk of a tree for a lift to a higher spot,
not fifty feet from the brow above us went the " bang,
bang," of a gun, and Jem dropped as if shot himself,
crying—

" There's that d Cap'n a bin and got among the

barches."

He looked as if he had been dipped into a bucket of
water, yet up he jumped and sprang again at the sa})-
lings. " Come on, Kiurnal, or we won't get a sliot at
all," — when again came the rejxirt of Wolfe's gun, as we
struggled out of the confounded thickets, and, half-dead,
half-blind, stood ujwn the edge of the open birch copse.
Here it was that cunning Master Jem had intended to
arrive first, for he knew that this was a favourite haunt

240

Lost Amid the Foga.

of tlie birds at this time ; and Juno took up the scent at
once, first here, tlien tliere, now under this clump, now
under that tuft ; but all in vain, for the scent was blind ;
the birds had just left. To add to Jem's disyust, which
served him right enough, there came farther off the
crack of Wolfe's piece again ; and Jem, wiping his
flushed visage with a groan, exclaimed, *' Oh, that cute
old cuss of a Cap'n ! who'd a thought he'd a been an'
got in among the barches first ? "

However, we did manage to pick up a few odd birds
before the curtain of night became too thick to see;
about which time we hit off to a nicety the spot where
the lane and road met, and saw Green with the trap all
ready for a start. 1 gave Jem a good nip from my
flask, — not only allowable now, but very advisable ; then,
while I sat down to change wet shoos and socks, to my
surprise away he started again, and in less than fivi>
minutes I heard him firing as hard as he could for
several minutes. It was useless attempting to follow,
as I could have seen a bird against the lighter part of
the sky, and th.at was all. In a few minutes more he
returned with two brace and a half of grouse. " Ah,"
said the old coon, " I guess I 've done the Cap'n. I
knowed there d be a sprinkling in that old potato-garden.
Tiiey often comes up close to the road just about now."
As ho spoke ho fired off the blank charges of his gun,
when at the report, from the ditch almost touching the
nag's feet, up sprang a whacking old cock, and whisked
away with a wag of his tail beyond ken in the gloam-
ing. It was enough to make one dance with disgust to

Autumn — The First Day of the Season. 247

think of the hours wo had tramped without seeing a
feather, and now, with gun unloaded and only darkness
visible, they were buzzing like mos(iuitoe8 all about
one.

Ah ! on the brow just above, there go the charges of
Wolfe's gun as a signal to know where we are. Wo
give him a hail, ringing loudly through the still night,
and very soon, preceded by Hover, we hear him lum-
bering through the brushwood. While he takes off' his
wet toggery we count the birds and make up the day's
sport. Seven and twenty brace of grouse, a brace of
black duck, five plovers, with five brace and a half of
snipe, make up the bag ; of which the greater share fell
to the superior skill of my friend. In spite of the luclc
of the old potato-garden, Wolfe had just managed to
keep one bird ahead of Jem, though the latter said
nothing about the failure of his dodge at the " bardies."
How Wolfe laughed as I told him the story ; it was
almost worth enduring that climb through the wood to
see Jem's disgust, and Wolfe's sides shaking with tlu?
story after.

Twelve miles after a heavy day over a hilly road is
weary work enough. AVlien I had changed my shoes,
and had taken a nip at the flask, I felt I could have
started again and walked for hours. But long before
we had reached the crest of the hill, whence Fort
Amherst's light gleamed behind the city, now eclipsed
by the tower of St Thomas' Church as we turned to tlu*
left, and now mingled among the long row of lights in
Government House as we echelloned to the right, both

I r:

i^^p^

248

Lost Amid the Fogs.

Wolfe and I were far in the realms of dreamland. I
remember only a voice of welcome at the gate, with a
hurried talc A our sport, before I was fast asleep again
on the bear-skin spread before the hearth. And so
ended the first day's shooting in the breezy woods and
over the barrens of bright evergreen Newfoundland.

CHAPTER XV.

AUTUMN — A "WITLESS EXPEDITION.

REQUENT (luring the next few weeks were
tlie meetings at Bakehouse Corner, and
many other corners as well, for the com-
paring of bags, in which transactions all
dozens were no doubt bakers' dozens, and something
over. Anyhow, so completely riddled of game were
the ten miles round the city by the end of that time,
that in as many days wo hardly got as many shots.
No matter whether we tried a long trot round over the
Three Barrens, or a tramp over the treadmill of Broad
Cove, round the Virgin's Bosom or Petty Harbour bogs,
it was all the same story in the end, — lots of dry bread
to digest with precious little sack to moisten it. Thus
it was that one evening, as we walked in Indian file
across the bogs of the White Hills, Wolfe propounded
the solemn verdict " that it wouldn't do at all." " The
continual worry has driven the birds into the woods,"
said he ; " we 'd better try some other ground, and keep
this for the end of the season again."
" What line do you propose ? "

250

Lost Amid the Fogs.

I !

" I have heard that about thirty miles down towards
Cape Race, beyond the Bay of Bulls, there is good o\)cu
ground and plenty of birds."

" Good ! why not make a three days' excursion and
try it?"

" When can you start ? "

"Say Wednesday, returning Saturday evening; it '?
moonlight."

Thus agreeing, home we jogged, tired and nniddy,
but better contented; for it is always a consolation,
after an unlucky day, to cut out fresh prospects lor
(piick realisation, and the more pleasant when unknown
grounil and scenery has to be explored. So it came to
pass, that one o'clock on the next Wednesday afternoon
found the well-laden shooting-trap before the door,
while Hover and Ben, circling round the wheels with
stilVened tails, defied each other with nmttcred growls.
The good marc swept us out by the lovely road which
aligns the river towards Waterford Bridge. We can
trace its course for many miles on our way t(»\vards the
Biiy of Bulls by the woody banks miming through an
undulating country but half reclaimed on our right ;
while on the left the slopes stretcfi up to the breezy
headlands, beyond which there is kiothing but t;ea and
cloud from this to Euro})e. We pass the turning to
Petty Harbour, with its many lakelets running from
one to the other through rocky gorges, not far from
which, upon the sea-coast, one of the most curious
natural [)henomena existing is well wortli going to see.
It wa? after an easterly blow upon the lee-siiorvj that 1

Autumn — A ^'Witless" Expedition.

2r)i

had the good fortune once to pass in a steamer and
see the " Spout" in full blast. A perpendicular funnel
through the clifls, some twenty yards or so inland,
and bent like a syphon towards the sea, receives the
waters of each wave breaking upon the rocks. Tiio
waters rush up the orifice, in a shower of spray in the
air, re-descciuling with a crnsii upon the rocks around.
With astonishing regularity, at half-minute intervals,
the spout blows like a i)ttriHed whale, forming a natural
landmark for mariners impossible to mistake. Indeed,
so jealous at one time were the |)ilots of their beautiful
rival, that exclaiming, like the Ephesians of old, their
craft was in danger, tlie excitement drove them to
make an expedition to destroy it. It is supposed they
did some injury to tiie funnel; but, nevertheless, when
wo saw it, '' Tiiero she spouts again," was a sight as
wondrous as novel. From this we ran gaily along a
country road, winding in and out among lochs, fringed
with rocks, and dark lirs bending over tlie reds
lovingly whevover the waters shallow into little lonely
bays. These are great |ilaces for duck and trout,
and our wistful eyes followed liover's movements, as he
limited in and out among the scrub along the water's
edge.

Of a sudden, (Jreen, my num, looking round, cried —

" A'ld by thejapei , is it Hover pinting there? and
as sti(U!y as a rock he is."

A hundred yards or so b.u k stood the dog looking
straight into the ditch by the roadside.

" And there 's lien a drawing over the little bog

252

Lost Amid the Fogs.

yonder, sir," cried the excited Green ; " there 's a covey
there hy the Holy "

" Bah ! " said Wolfe, rising up and looking back,
"we should have roused them as we drove past: it
must be a rausk-rat." So he began whistling and call-
ing " Rover, Rover," but Rover never stirred, though I
iancy his head bent a little towards the voice.

" It 's birds," cried Green, " it 's birds, sir ; I see one
now a-flying over the bush into the little bog."

Down jumped Wolfe, his barrels were loaded, and a
very few seconds sufficed to fix them into the stock. As
he drew up to the dog, ten or twelve birds rose out of the
little ditch, Wolfe taking a brace out of them before
they alighted on the further edge of tlic adjoining bog.
1 felt half crazy thinking tliat my own gun was not
get-at-able, and the more when Wolfe began to draw on
Ben's point at the edge of the bog. Up sprung the old
cock with a " kur, kur, ki, kur, kur," right over our
heads, untouched by tiie discharge, and then Wolfe
followed the dogs again to the covey, not three hundred
yards away, where he knocked over a third biril at the
rise. He came trudi'injjr back witli three vounjjr birds
in his liand, and returnod his barrels to tlie case.
•' Now, that 's what 1 call a bit of luck," said he,
striking a fusee for his i>ipe, " which won't happen
every day. On you go."

Another brace of miles brought us to the top of tl>e
steep iiill wliich leads down to the iiuy of Bulls, a well-
sheltered gaji in the wall of sea 'iiff. of whick advantage
has, of course, l>eeu taken to form a goutl-s'zed titJiing-

Autumn — A "Witless" Expedition. 253

settlement. Through the struggling town we drove,
beneath the fish flakes, just like raised terraces for vines
in sunny lands, stretching across the road, and upon
which the whole i)opulation were mounted, busy in
covering willi bark the half dried fish against the dews
of night. Beyond the opposite sloi)e we came to another
little bay, with another fishing-settlement. Why this
should be called Witless l>ay cannot be explained ; per-
haps it was a corruption of some old word ; but it was
our destination, and not to be despised on account of its
appellation. The village lay snugly in a gap in the
clifls, with comfortable cottages promiscuously scattered
about it, all with plots of cabbages inside the fences,
jmd pigs and geese without. Above these in condition,
on one side of the little bay under the shelter of the
clifls, rose the steeple of the church, while near a dark
clump of firs the smoke of the priest's house mingled
w ith tlio chimneys of the convent quite lovingly. In a
few minutes we heard of a little hostelric kept by
Tadily Carey, at the end of a maze of lanes on the
oiiposite side of the bay. I don't know how my trap
.survived the jolting of tl»e big boulders on the path,
but at last we arrived Itefore tlie cottage, where Mr
(Jarey himself, pipe in mouth and in his shirt-sleeves,
was surveying the glories of his cabbnge -garden,
liehind him, througli the open door, we could see a
sort of bar filled willi iisliiiig-folk over their evening
grog. To our demand for acconunodatioii, the man
took his i)ipe from his mouth, and with a long, blank
stare said —

i«

• s

254

Lost A mid the Fogs.

" Bee the holy, Barney ! just to think, here 's a purty,
and the missus gone out till to-morrow."

'* Well, but," chimed in Wolfe, " I suppose you have
the beds all the same."

" Oh, oh ! " cried Paddy, " Barney, my bo^, what '11 I
do at all ? the missus gone out till to-morrow. '

"Never mind the missus, Mister Carey, I dare say
we '11 do very well."

" Och ! come in, come in; ')ay all manes, gintlemen :
we '11 do the best for ye."

Inside we found, beyond the bar, a little dusty par-
lour, and above in a garret two bunks, the whole
highly perfumed with cod-liver oil, in which Mister
Carey was an extensive dealer. (Jreci was to sleep
before the great wood-fire in the bar, and by a gooil
deal got tb'3 best of it. Ten minutes made us pretty
snug under the circumstances, and rejecting Mr Carey's
offer of salt cod and cabbage, we made out some tea
witli buttered toast, looked well to our guns, and turiicd
in early.

There were ominous looking clouds coming u\> from
the south-west when we roused at five o'clock. By six
we had fairly started, v.ilh two native guides, to breast
the steep lull ])eyond which our ground was said to
stretch. Both took their "davies" to plenty of birds,
predicting great sport on arriving at a certain "yellow
mash" about eight or ton miles off. Over the crest of
the hill on the cliffs the tract lay straight along the
edge of little lochs, bordered by wood or bt . ; and we
had not gone half a mile when, in the middle of a little

Autumn — A *' Witless'' Expedition.

255

brown barren, right from under our feet, up sprung a
glorious covey of at least twenty birds. Before we
could say " knife," they were over the brow and gone.

"That comes from talking," said Wolfe, taking his
pipe out of his mouth, and putting it away ; " serve us
aill right ; what a covey I Oh yes, master Rover, you 're
very busy now it's too late; gone away, boy, gone
away."

Away rattled the dogs ahead, and very soon I heard
the crack of Wolfe's j)ieco among the scattered covey,
getting a shot myself at a good point from lien
among the brushwood. About a mile farther on, we
flushed a covey, taking a biiicc out of it, and then two
brace of old birds successively, knocking the whole of
them over. It was now nearly eight o'clock, and we
had done pretty fairly ; but to our dismay the mist from
the southward was steadily increasing, making the ferns
and birches tlirougli whicli we passed terrihly wet.
Just as we were passing round tlie cd«"» of a loch, a
" Cra, era, era, era, " wild and piercing, l)rought us to a
sudden halt. ree[)ing throngh the bushes, on a spit of
sandy mud, about two hundred yards u\]\ were five
magnilicent geese, calling to some of their acrpiaintance
with outstretched necks, and telling thom, no doubt,
whal a delightfully moist day it was. *' Cra, cra, cra,
i'ra, cra," screamed again the wild challenge over the
wavelets of the dark loch, as anxiously we debated
whether by any means we could get within shot. Ihit
not a particle of shelter was to be seen, and we watched
tiiem for mere lascinution's sake, until, of a sudden, with

1 t

^mm^

256

Lost Amid the Fogs.

louder screams, they rose in the air, and straight as an
arrow, in long Indian-file, disappeared behind the misty
woods of the far side of the loch. They were most
likely young birds bred in the marshes about here,
waiting by instinct for a signal from some flock passing
down south from Labrador to the mighty swamps of
Florida or Louisiana.

A miserable walk through driving mist, guns under
arm, and head to ground, brought us to the edge of the
" yallow mash," a great inland bog covered with a short
jaundiced grass, extending for some eight miles on
towards Killigrew's Barren, once across which, we were
to fall in with game in any ab' \dance. It looked un-
inviting, but manfully we pushed into the inland sea,
often fetlock deep in mud and ooze. At this time,
about eleven o'clock, there was not a breath of wind,
and the misty atmos|)here felt quite stifling ; when, at a
glint or struggle of the sun to make his number for the
day, the bog became alive — literally alive — with the
iccursed black-fly. The more gallant the effort to
jierce the gloom, the worse tin pots became. Guides
and all, it was nothing but nmttercd curses, with flap,
Hap, at each step or tumble forward ; while very soon,
necks, hands, and faces, ran down small rivers of blood.
An hour's struggle at this horrid work was as much as
any one could stand, the very tough-skinned guides
themselves looked done up, and I caved in altogether.
As to shooting, had a hundred coveys risen all round,
not a trigger could have boon pulled. Oh ! for a breath
of air ! Oh 1 for a breeze to blow the accursed little

Autumn — A " ]Yltk'fis" ExpcdUlon.

2.-7

devil

s aw

ny-

Dut inoio Ktilliny: than ever eamc tlie

iitmosjdiero, tind worse in proportion the attacks of our
bh->ocUsiickers,

" Wiiero are we?" I cried jit hist to the jijuide; " Ikiw
far now liave we to go alun<^ tiiis awful niarsli ?"

" Oeh I tlie sorrow o' uie knows, yer honner ; 'tis the
llies is awful."

I couhl just see tlie burly fijjjurc of Wolfe looming
along, head bent well down, some lifty yards to tlio
left, and hailed him.

" ll(»lloa ! I can't stand this ; I shall lay down and

lie

soon ,
^ minute

let's jjet out of it, for heaven's sake.

after, as the mists on the right I'olled iiji
together like a folded curtain, we caught the glimpse of
a high peak. " We must climb that, yer honner, ' siid
the guitles, '" to get rid of these bastes ; 'lis llie IJoat-
swain's Look-out." ^\'ith drooi)iiig heads we matle for
the bottom of the ascent. Up that lutrrid cliMib of
three hundred feet, with rivers of red and white tlowing
from cheek, tem})le, brow, and neck, the demon llies
followed us. l..e guides snlfered Just as much as we
did, and the in.stant we reached the culminating [loint,
a ihitlish rock sui'rounded by shrubs, rushed to make
a fire and search for water. TiiaiikluUy we all shel-
tered under the lee of the smoke as it rose from the
damp embers, and agreed that we had iirver enjoyed
a c'lp of tea such as the kettle produced ten minutes
after.

liclore we had liuished breakfast, a blast of wind
swe[>t acru."rs our elevated [>arlour, driving otf the miijts,

I—Pl

258

Lost Amid the Fogs.

and, to our joy, the flio8 as well. But the guides cried
to hurry up, as we should have a deluge of rain upon
us before long. It was decided to turn homewards, and
give up shooting that day as a bad job. Before we had
Kcranibled down the side of the hill to the *' yellow
mash " again, the rain, condensed from the fogs by the
cold current of air, came down in a steady hisli — bad
enough, but paradise com])ared to the flies. Forming
Indian-file, locks under arms, dogs with slouched ears
and drooping tails, we tramped over bog and hill, those
slushy, weary miles, back to the village of Witless Bay,
after a very witless day's work — consisting of no sport,
a precious mauling from the flies, and as honest a
drenching as a man need well soak in. However, when
we had peeled our soaking garments, and gotten within
the embouchure of Mr Paddy Carey's kitchencliimney,
there to sniff up (like the famous Tom Codlin) the
dinner preparing, our hearts revived. Mrs Paddy had,
to Mr Paddy's great content, returned and effected a
marvellous change for the better — concocting, moreover,
a fragrant stew of fowl, imtatoes, and cabbage, which
went down unconnuonly well. After that the guns had
to be thoroughly taken to bits, wiped, and oiled. Then
we enjoyed our tobacco inside the chimney, half-roasted
by the huge logs of pine and birch ; while villagers
dropped in and out on the chance of a word of gossip,
or a drop of rum J'rujidum sine. Thus wo consoled
ourselves for defeat, and pleasantly prepared to do good
battle on the morrow.
It was well we did so ; for, from beneath the eastern

Autumn— A " Witless" Expedition.

250

lagers

[ossip,

isoled

good

Astern

horizon, to our joy, tlie morn broke gloriously upon
nature, refreshed with the copious bathing of the pre-
vious day. In spite of oleaginous counsels, we decided
dead against that accursed "yellow mash," and took the
crests of the hills at once. Here we found open barrens,
spriidcled every hundred yards or so with little copses
of birch, fir, larch, and brushwood ; and, as the run
followed the contour of tiie {-lill's, it dipped and rose
into alternate little Mils ()r dells. IV'fore twelve o'chxik
we fluslied anion;; neni eight coveys, and, with a fair
sprinkling of scattered birds, picked out fourteen brace
to our credit, reaching at last the extremity of a bluif,
commanding a wide plain between us and the clilfs ot
the coast. The Atlantic, dotted here and tliere with a
white sail, stretched north and south in one grand un-
broken level — the sheen of the midday sun glistening
on its face. The surface of the blulf was carpeted witii
blueberries, so thickly that one lifted the toot in vain
to find a spot where the little jdum-like fruit might not
be crushed; anon sweeping into the hollow of the ]ialm
a hundred or so, with the i)early bloom on each berry,
we fling them into our mouths as a stoker shoves coals
into his furnace. Vast are the (plant ities of wild fruits,
raspberries, cranberries, strawberries, (juashberries, j)art-
ridge-berries, stoneberries. found on the hills, barrens,
and bogs of Fish-and-fog-land. They are brought into
the city and villages to be jammed down rotighly with
molasses — a capital substitute for butter for the little
ravenous fi.vhcrs, during the long months when grass is
not and milk itself is scarce.

■^^■•••T"

200

Lost Amid (he For/s.

ITcro wc cniplied llio bnp^s and j)ro]insc<l a linlt for
rcfrcslmient, when Wolfe, lurninjj^ a 8ort of jirofcssional
eye on the open broken j^round l)e]ow uh, Wdiild liave it
tlint wo ouj;ht to explore there first. " ("I'aciin a son
;j;ont." I was dead l)eat, and, as a matter of course,
the guide was of my o]»inion. " There's sorra little in
it," Raid he, throwing his bags on the ground with a
welcome sigh.

"H'm," replied Wolfe, "it looks to me a promising
bit, and it wouldn't take us half an hour; besides there's
no woods for the birds to sneak into."

"Away you go, then, while (Jreen and I make up
the fire and boil the kettle — doubt if you get a
shot."

Down stumped Wolfe and liover, followed by the
disgusted guide ; while we, first carefully ])utting the
game under a bush and covering it with ferns, began
tearing up by the roots the rotten stumps of trees which
bad coveretl these hills many many years ago, and bad
]ir()bably perished by a conflagration. Of this tinder-
dry wood there was any quantity at hand, and a glorious
pile of it was soon heaped on the very brow of the bluff.
Then CJreen, making a little scientific aperture under-
neath, opposite the breeze, stuffed the bole witli dried
grasses, little twigs, with a bit of paper "afore all," as
lie styled it; and now, strikiog a match with the heel
of his boot, touche<l the tender s])ot, fanning the first
weak kindling with his own natural bellows. Crack
went the twigs ; crack, crack, responded the thicker
boughs inside ; and Green soon rose from his knees

Aniiimn — A ** Wltlesa" Exprdillon.

'li)\

witli "Faix, it'll bo a •glorious folro; an' it's a pity wo
have nivor a iiertiity to put into it!" lie tilled the
kettlo from tho lilllo rill in the ImihIics, while I piletl
oil Htiiin[) after sttnnp until tho sinoku rose into a
very clouil overhead, to (•musl', it may bo, many a sailor
far out at sea to wonder then at tlio \x,\'v\\i fire wiiich
sprung up suddenly on the blue hills of tho distant
coast.

Ay! it was delicious, this hour of utter ahdudint on
the sunnv hills, free from dust, or dirt, or sign of wearv
toil. Tho verv crackling of tho Hamo tickled the lar
with an idea of independent comfort, as if homo in its
best enjoyment could easily ho set up here. Jt lasts
too short a time, and is too dependent on such wiatlier,
this Crusoe luxury; but tho brief hour of its lasting
is a compensation to balance tho miseries of many
longer periods in tho grind of daily life, as most men
have it.

•' l*op,"' faintly from the distant plain below, and yet
another "pop." Out ran (ircen from behind the lee of
tho lire, and p(»inted out the two little jiulls of blue
smoke which maiked Wolfe's ])resenco in the bushes.

"He's missed him, sir; — be the lioly ! he's miss(.'d
him. 1 sees him a-whceling down to the tirs to the
rigiit. Och ! look at him now; he's a wheeled otf this
way; — look at him, sir ; hero he comes: ihimder! how
he's rising."

I caugiit sight of the bird at last, as (ireen said,
rising over tho bush about half a mile otf. Tp he
towered, up, up, up; until at last, with a gentle llap

IMAGE EVALUATION
TEST TARGET (MT-3)

1.0

I.I

1.25

IIM 12.5

150

IIM

140

122
2.0

11=

U 111 1,6

%/' A

Photographic

Sdences

Corporation

23 WEST MAIN STREET

WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580

(716) 872-4503

•sj

#<:

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262

Lost Amid the Fogs.

■i
i]
i i

or so of his wings, he dropped like a parachute among
the dense brushwood, and was lost to view.

" Go and get him, Green ; you see where he fell,
just by the big white stump : anyhow I '11 guide you
when you 're down there."

" Sure, sir, an how '11 1 git him at all? shall I take
tlie gun and have a drive at him ? "

" Pick him up, man, he 's dead."

" And is he dead at all ! sure he flew well enough."

" You '11 find him dead enough ; look alive, and
we '11 surprise the Captain when he comes up."

Down tumbled Green over the rocks, till he got
among the scrub on the level, when, guided by my
handkerchief, I heard a faint triumphant shout, and
soon after ho was climbing the hill again, with a
splendid old cock in his hand.

" Sure, sir," said he, " it 's a mishtery to me what 's
killed hiiii, for his wings and body is as roight as the
day he was born."

Separating the fine feathers at the back of the head,
I showed him the smallest trace of blood. A pellet,
only one, had struck the bird somewhere near the
brain, its action not felt until some seconds had
elapsed as he flew away from the fusillade. Then he
began to tower, up, up, until consciousness and strength
ceasing, he fell gently back to earth. It was a wonder
there was no hawk on the watch to snap him off before
the sportsman's eyes, as is often the case, they under-
standing the law of the thing by the flight of the
quarry just as well as we do.

Autumn— A " Witless" Expedition.

263

" Hang him on the stump, Green ; here comes the
Captain, and we 11 hear what he says. Well, what
luck?"

"H'm," replied our friend, "a precious climb; and
I was never more deceived in my life with ground."

" What ! did you bag nothing after all that tramp ?
W^e thoug'i-t we heard your bark several times. Here,
take this mug of tea. Eh ? "

" Did you ? H'm, then it was some one else shooting,
I suppose, I only fired twice ; knocked a bird over
as dead as a door nail, but though I searched till I
was sick of it, the place was so thick I couldn't find
him."

Just then Green, the gaffer, laughed with a sly
glance at the bird on the tree. Wolfe guessed at once
how it was, and coughed over his tea as he said —

" H'm, you picked him up, eh ? Did he tower ? I
thought he might ; how far did he fly ? "

" About a moile, or a moile and a half, sir ; and you
might have been looking for him all day where you
thought you knocked him over."

" H'm," growled Wolfe.

" Yes, sir ; and you see it 's us as lighted the fire
and bagged the bird after all."

So then we all laughed, ate and drank like hunters,
lay back for a chat over our morning's work, and
cantered gaily into the region of happy dreams, while
the soft sea-breeze sighed over our heads, and curled
the smoke as it rose from our fast lessening fire. Too
swiftly sped the time of that rude outspanning, with

fi|i

wfffmmm

264

Lost Amid (he Fogs.

all wants, to make us equal to princes of earth, around
us in mock simplicity.

Too short, too short, such minutes. A colder
whisper of the hreeze roused us to business again.
The dying embers of the fire were scattered in safe
I)laces, and the guides told to take us a good round
homewards. We were jealous of losing a moment of
that delicious autumn afternoon, or a yard of that
springy barren, covered with wild flowers, leading on
through thickets to other little barrens, where the pre-
sence of man was noted only by a worn thread across,
and otherwise just as nature made it. Here we were
sure of a point or two, and always rose a covey at
the sunny corners of the dwarf juniper thickets, almost
stiff enough to walk over.

At last, with just sufficient light to tumble down
the slopes, we reached Paddy Carey's hostclrie again,
and turned out some weighty bags upon the kitchen
table. We counted over five-and- twenty brace of
grouse, besides other sprinklings, by far the lion's
share of which belonged to Wolfe. We had intended
to double our bag the next day, now that we had our
hands in ; but, before turning in, a look out from
Paddy's cabbage- garden over the sea told of a cloud of
driving mist gathering in the south ; a warning to all
who had had experience of the " yellow mash," not to be
neglected. So, thankful that we had nicked one glorious
day out of the ruck, we packed the bags, and harnessed
for St John's, not the worse or sorry for our adventures
amid the hills and mists of Witless Bay.

Autumn — A "Witless" Expedition.

265

Shall I go on, or is the reader wearied of our joyous
days over the countless barrens and thickets which
surround St John's on all sides ? Alack ! day by day
the line of light grew narrower, and bid us turn our
steps homeward sooner and sooner. There is neither
time nor space to tell a thousandth part of these
bright beads strung on memory's chain. As eyes
grew surer, and wind stronger, so the days and the
birds decreased together ; though each white feather,
dyed for winter's fashion, added weight and plumpness
to the noble game. Still about the beginning of
November they were very scarce indeed ; a point from
Ben or Rover was a point indeed then not lightly to
be missed. Rarely then we heard the plaintive cry of
the American robin, "Oh! poor Captain Kennydy —
Kennydy ! oh! poor Kennydy — Kennydy! " And bitter
cold Avere our drives home ere, twinkling in the far
distance, we caught the first glint of Fort Amherst
light, the herald of approaching warmth and com-
fort.

And yet there was a reprieve in store for us wo
could little have expected. Suddenly at this time
spring appeared to break again upon the desolation
of nature. The cold moist grays dissolved into tints
of beauty, almost worthy of Naples. The cattle left
the close stalls to browse the scant v herl)a''e, and the
birds of passage, in flocks along the sliallows of the
lakes, might be seen at sunset preening their wearied
feathers. Sweet are the words of a modern j^oet singing
of these ftiiry moments of the Indian summer : —

fl ',-,-!A'i*M!lLui i|

mfmfw

266 Lost Amid the Fogs.

" What visionary tints the year puts on

When falling leaves falter through motionless air,

Or numbly cling and shiver to be gone !
How shimmer the long flats and pastures bare,
As with her nectar Hebe Autumn fills
The bowl between me and those distant hills,
And smiles and shakes abroad her misty, tremulous hair !

" How fuse and mix, with what unfelt degrees,
Clasp'd by the faint horizon's languid arms,

Each into each, the hazy distances !
The soften'd season all the landscape charms ;
Those hills, my native village that embay.
In waves of dreamier purple roll away,
And floating in mirage seem all the glimmering farms.

" Far distant sounds the hidden chickadee
Close at my ide ; far distant sound the leaves ;
The fields seem fields of dream, where Memor
Wanders like gleaning Ruth ; and as the sheaves
Of wheat and barley waver'd in the eye
Of Boaz as the maiden's glow went by.
So tremble and seem remote all things the sense receives.

" The cock's shrill trump that tells of scattered corn,
Passed breezily on by all his flapping mates,

Faint and more faint, from barn to barn is borne
Southward, perhaps to far Magellan's Straits ;

Dimly I catch the throb of distant flails ;

Silently overhead the henhawk sails,
With watchful, measuring eye, and for his quarry waits.

" The sober'd robin, hunger-silent now,
Seeks cedar berries blue, his autumn cheer ;

The squirrel on the shingly shagbark's bough,
Now saws, now lists with downward eye and ear,

Autumn — A " Witless" Expedition. 207

Then drops his nut, and with a chipping bound,
Whisks to his winding fastness underground ;
Tlie clouds like swans drift down the streaming atmosphere.

" O'er yon bare knoll the pointed cedar-shadows
Drowse on the crisp, gray moss ; the ploughman's call

Creeps faint as smoke from black, fresh-furrow'd meadows :
The single crow a single caw lets fall ;
^nd all around me every bush and tree
Says Autumn's here, and Winter soon will be,
Who snows his soft, white sleep and silence over all."

l;,Ji

What more? One thing, a little word on health,
that chief of blessings. When, on a bleak, snow-
threatening afternoon about the beginning of December,
after many a feeble day's work latterly, we made up
our minds that all was over for this season, and gave
the guns their final oiling, we could have walked from
sunrise to sunset without a thought of fatigue. Those
glorious rises over the boundless hills, breathing in
from their tops the pure Atlantic breezes day after day,
had toned us down into a first-rate fighting trim.
One could see by Wolfe's clear blue eye, elastic step,
the tone of his handsome face, and the grasp of his
hand, that all was well within. Long may it be so,
old friend, now far away ! and if you ever read these
recollections, pat Rover on the head for my sake. As
I write these last words Ben is sitting at my feet : I
look down into his hazel eye, pass my hand over his
big silken head, and cry for fun, " Kur, kur, kur. kur ;
seek him out." Ah ! how his eye glistens, and his
tail moving slowly to and fro intimates in his own

■f-T"

2G8

Lost Amid the Fogs.

way, " I know, I know." And I love him all the more
that his spirit can pass with mine back upon those
misty, sea-girt barrens which we have often trod so
patiently, so lovingly together. " Down charge, old
boy ! down charge ! "

the more

on those

trod so

irge, old

CHAPTER XVI.

"THE ODD TRICK AN.) THE RUBBER"—
SOCIAL AND POLITICAL.

E were now called upon to enter a widely
different campaign to the one which had oo
pleasantly concluded. One morning', about
the beginning of December, the first spat
of snow was on the ground, and over its pure surface
we tramped down Water Street to the bank, to do a
little business and pick up the news. As the red-baized
guardians noiselessly swung behind, the brave banker
himself left off a consultation with his casliier in a
brass netted bird-cage, and came forward to greet us.

" Walk into my parlour, do ; glad to see you. His
Excellency is inside ; Mr Green will draw out the forms ;
pray walk in."

Doffing our caps to the fine old British gentleman
who represented Her Majesty in England's Ancient
Colony, we entered the sanctum replete with the fate
of almost every man of note in it. Little flies and big
flies, mosquitoes and blue -bottles, all had to come
sooner or later to the presidirg spider behind the green

270

Lost Amid the Fogs.

table here, when he sucked a drop or two from eacli en
passant, and so grew more genial and pleasant daily.
It was thus he picked up all the gossip, and knew the
interest of the community seriatim; no small matter
professionally, and not the less convenient socially, in
a place to which the mail only came in winter once
a-month. But the spider, as I said, was a genial spider,
and if he sucked, as his duty bid him, he always did it
pleasantly to his victim's feelings.

Pleasantly ! shall I tell you how pleasantly ? Surely
as the hand of the clock daily passed the mark of
eleven, the towering form of tlie noble old Governor
would be seen gaining inch by inch down the steep
hill from St Thomas' Church, halting nowhere until
he reached the one small chair in the banker's little
parlour. There, no matter what was going on — what
monetary convulsions were exciting change — what
domestic anguish was racking his upper stories— what
calls pressed, or messages awaited urgent replies — the
banker gave up that hour to the amusement of liis
aged friend. That unselfishness and sacrifice (and it
was no light one either) on the banker's part, was
simply life to the old gentleman. The remaining
twenty- three hours of his existence he passed in a
great uncongenial residence, half palace, half work-
house, in look at least, where a cricket chirping in the
kitchen might easily have been heard in the attics.
Few can understand, except men who have lived in
colonies, the desolation of spirit which (in the very
midst of society) the Queen's representative may feel ;

iili.i!

" The Odd Trick and the lluhber."

271

jrovernor

always fearful, while seeking natural and social sym-
pathies, of stepping out of the uncompromising path so
indistinct between dignity and urbanity. Very guarded
in choosing his society must he be ; and many a one,
after the first mistake is discovered, are driven back
into their own solitary thoughts during the remainder
of their piiutorships. God speed the banker that thus
it was not with our own much-valued cliicf.

'* I was just remarking to his Excellency," quoth our
friend, " when you came in, that I expected a good
many of the whist-club would drop in on me to-day ;
the first snow, sir, is our signal to commence."

" I wish, wi' a' my heart, I were young enough to join
ye, gentlemen. Where do ye begin yere meetings ? "

" Well, sir, we ought to offer the President of the
Council the first chance."

" He'll plead to a certainty his poultry's too young."

" And there 's none arrived yet from Halifax, or I 'd
offer my own house," said the bunker.

" If that 's a', banker, 1 11 send ye a turkey and a
dozen of port," said the Governor ; " some of that cask
Walter Grieve imported for us. It 's vera fine."

There was no getting out of this, and we clinched
the bashful banker on the spot with much clapping of
hands. Next morning, Michael, our trusty old waiter,
who was anxiously expecting a summons, might have
been seen with a slip of paper in bis hand tramping
round the town and its suburbs to sound the welcome
note that our jolly winter gatherings were fairly launched
again.

1 f
ft

272

Lost Amid the Fofjs.

I! I

Certainly to bo lost uniul the fogs, and quartered
amid the silence of eternal snows for a stretch of four
or five months at a time is a part of his education
which an Englislmian seldom calculates on. To havo
society, among men at least, one nuist have something
to meet ujjou common ground as it were, even though
it he hut an excuse for joining a social gathering. No
doubt, there are many more sensible and elevating
things than a sixpenny rubber. The study of chemistry,
readings from Shakespeare, chess, citm multis aliis, may
each have its votaries ; but none of them combine that
happy mixture of the oiium cum dig. with that demand
on skill and memory combined, which so rapidly develop
themselves during each encounter. There was always
a certain amount of groaning and pious exclamation
among the ladies when the club was about to open ;
but the sensible among them rejoiced at the possibility
of banishing ennui from brows which, now and again,
after hard work for daily bread, needed the wholesome
relaxation.

So, in spite of the frowns of worthy wives, the club
was formed of sixteen members, heads of ftimilies,
sober and substantial, good fellows every one of them,
and good neighbours one to the other. Each Monday
during the snow-bound months the meet took place at
the house of a member drawn by lot, until each had
had his turn ; when, if the snow would not melt, there
was another draw for an extra night or two. Punctual
as the clock struck seven, the lobby of the host steamed
with the evaporations of our half-frozen wrappers;

The Odd Trick and the liubber."

27:5

Eivtered
of four
iication
'o have
icthing
though
g. No
evating
Miiistry,
lis, may
Ine that
demand
develop
I always
amation
D open ;
ssibility
again,
olesome

he club
amilies,
f them,
Monday

thence we were duly ushered into a side parlour for
an attack en passant on tea and its pleasant belongings.
Not always, in truth, was the attack a slight one, for we
were all early diners, scion Ic coutume ici. They have
still good old-fashioned ways in the Ancient Colony,
one of which is the manner of giving that tea. " Fair
Margaret, in her tidy kirtle," presided behind the hissing
urn, or the kettle hummed on the hob of tlie checrv
fire. Mrs Joslyn, of the lake-farm, always knew when
the club met ; her orders through the winter always
running, " for IMondays of a sure, sir," for the best of
cream, butter, and chickens. Then, besides, one lady
was famous for her coiFee, another for her brown bread,
and another for her pound-cake; and the host would
be sure to observe the affront to his wife if the well-
merited attention to each was neglected. Truth to sav,
there was little need to press his guests, most of wliom
would dally roimd the pleasant table until one of the
elders called us to order. " You're wanted to cut in,
sir," was the awful summons from our senior magistrate
to the last lagger, until all were round the green cloth ;
the four highest playing together, than the four next ;
when from that moment until eleven, except in the
shifting of partners, or a burst of indignation at some
outrageous play, silence worthy of a nest of conspii-atoi-s
was the rule. But about that hour a manifest uneasi-
ness began to prevade the assembly. An appetising
fragrance to one -o'clock- diners has begun to steal
in from unknown parts of the house ; while sundry
clinking noises about the passages, suggest the possi-

I Im

mmn^^^T-

274

Lost Amid the Fogs.

bility of trumping your partner's best card in tlie
confusion of ideas. Michael, the waiter, ruslies in and
collars the chairs of the first quartette who finish their
joarii, and then whispers a mysterious word to our host,
which being interpreted means, " that iiie cook is
ready to dish up." Gradually the cards are thrown up,
and we gather round the fire to await the grand signal ;
while with much dignity our senior member passes his
snufF-box to such as are on his list for enjoying that
honour. To him, of course, all honours are in return
paid, when the folding-doors are thrown open ; and
the well-lighted room, with a long table right royally
spread, bursts into welcome view, groaning beneath
the weight of a substantial British supper, concerning
which our rules were impartially strict. No kickshaws,
or champagne, or sweets, were ever pei-mitted. " Four
dishes with vegetables," was the rule ; but tlie rule
was not without elasticity in its operations. The four
dishes were dishes indeed worthy of a generals inspec-
tion-dinner, and a soldier's ideas of good faro need go
no further, if indeed they could. A noble tuikcy,
never under sixteen pounds, generally faced the presi-
dent, while a splendid wild-goose did the same graceful
homage to the vice; we had, nine times out of ten,
roast ducks and chicken-pie as sidesmen ; a real York
ham and stewed oysters just to balance the table ; and
two pyramids of mashed potatoes browned to perfection.
Stilton chesse and celery followed as a proper incentive
for the " materials," with a kettle straight from the
hob in better tune than ever, and lemons, if procurable.

" The Odd Trick and the Ruhhcrr

275

Now, what think you of that for a supper, my friend ?
and, mind you, all of the best — of the very first cho])
quality, and no country in the wc»rld to beat it ? But
yet of all the dishes the chef par excellence was the
" wild goose," and many an extra night did we nick
during the season on the strength of discovering one of
our members still possessed a specimen of that rara
avis, nigmque simillinia cycjno ; literally true. In other
lands my experience of the bird had been decidedly
fishy ; so not less was my amazement to see the carver
draw his knife across a breast of the depth of an aitch
bone, and with slice after slice help his sixteen friends
generously off the same. It was even come and cut
again with a lucky few, until he offered the skeleton to
the last hungry inquirer. To taste was to be satisfied
at once of its merits, and to drop your fork with a
sigh to your neighbour as you whisper, " A royal bird,
sir ! a royal bird, indeed ! "

The fact is, that these noble, swan-like bipeds are
wild in their breeding, but farm-yard in their rearing.
"When fledgings, with the soft down blossoming thickly,
they are taken from the nest in considerable nund)ers.
The vast bogs and marshes round Cai)e Ilace yield the
greatest harvest, where tliey are cliiefly reared by the
farmers for the St John's market. So highly are they
valued, that in the spring time the village girls make
regular excursions to the reeds in search of the eggs,
which are brought home with glee for a novel kind of
incubation. By day, wrai)[)ed in wool, they are sus-
pended in the bake-pots near the open fires; and by

1 1 ■.,fM|ll>)|«!!l. (.-

276

Lost Amid the Fogs.

night, transferred to the ladies' stockings, tliey enjoy
the warmth of their virtuous couches, smuggled away
in unmentionable corners. The little gobbler babes,
thus strangely invited to life, are diligently hand-fed
by tiie maidens, and each autumn exchanged into
bright ribbons and shawls, or it may be luxuries for
Christmas cheer. About the beginning of October the
boats from the soiitli and south-west begin to haul in
to the metropolitan wharfs of the merchants, laden with
ocean spoils ; and not a boat but what brings up its
trilnite of wild geese as well, the birds about three-
(piarters grown. They are eagerly purchased for 7s. Gd.
to 10s. a bird, and soon become domiciled in the
poultry-yard, whence many a time the hoarse sunset
screams of the gander, on our return homewards from
autumnal strolls, have suggested pleasantly the ap-
proach of tliose social gatherings over which tlie owner
was honourably to preside. With a sharp lemon sauce
and proper roasting, there is nothing in the feathered
tribe to excel this noble game ; and at his sacrificial
festivities we may heartily drink success to the fair
damsel who nursed him to maturity, in a generous
libation of that whisky-toddy with which our merry
party always concluded.

But stop, not too fast; before the kettle steams on
the table, we have to discuss oiu* cheese, port, luid
celery, the two last items in Fish-and-fog-land as
important as Johannisberg or Tokay to a scion of the
house of Hapsburg. Ah 1 you may smile, gentle
reader, in more idvoured climes. Your smile is not

li J

y enjoy
(I away
■ babes,
and-fed
ed into
iries for
3ber the
haul ill
len with
s up its
t three-
r 7s. Gd.

in the
3 sunset
■ds from
the ap-
owner
)n sauce

athcred
licrificial

le fair

:cnerous
merry

nms on
•t, and
and as
of the
gentle
s is not

" The Odd Trick and the Ruhhcr."

277

unnatural ; yet if you lived in a place where tlie preen
herb was hidden for months at a time, you would
relish the crispness of a bite of celery as much as if
you were a cow turned out on spring grass, after a
winter's stabling on musty hay. It is the more pre-
cious here because it is rather a chary thing to gr )w,
arising partly from grubs, partly from want of skill.
Just after the first snow has fallen, tlie produce is dug
up and carefully replanted in sand in a frost-proof
cellar, whence it comes to table as fresh as from a
market-garden at home. Towards the end of spring
it is indeed a treat; and it was always a point of
honour with those who had gardens to see that the
host of the whist-club-night was amply provided.
" Gentlemen," cried he at the head of that social table,
often enough, " Gentlemen, I need hardly tell you
where that celery comes from, I am sure. Nothing
but Rostellan could produce its equal." It was but
a natural consequence to take an extra lialf-glass of
port to the health of the jovial owner of that property,
as a vote of thanks, on such a hint.

And port — good geruiine i)ort merits a word of notice
en passant, does it not? They vow it is not the same
port in quality which used to reach them thirty years
ago. I cannot say, but generally the tap was good,
often very fine. Not that strong, heavy clerical fluid
which does duty on nine out of ten dining-tables in
England ; but rather a lighter, less fruited, and more
delicately-bodied vintage ; yet as true a port as would
satisfy the requirements of the old Royal Duke.

278

Lost Amid the Fogs.

Formerly this wine, coming over from Portugal in the
returning fish-vessels, could be had here for eighteen
shillings a dozen ; in these degenerate days it runs
from fifty to sixty shillings ! There was a good trade
then from St John's to many other ports with this
return produce for their fish, but it has entirely
disappeared, and only enough is introduced for the
Kmall demands of the colony itself. Newfoundland
port was once a byword in the world, as well known
as Cliquot or Allsopp. In Newfoundland alone now
are its virtues still cherished.

Enough of the " choicest" of our merry suppers, and
enough. See Michael has the glasses round, while the
rosy wine itself is thrust ignominiously to the centre of
the table. The kettle sings a "charge your glasses,
gentlemen, quick, quick, quick ! while the water 's hot,
hot, hot, gentlemen ! " in a tune which loosens all
tongues to a chorus with him. For twenty brief
minutes there is a babel of jokes and laughter round,
while sly shots upon weak points, whether of fish or
potatoes, fly like hail across the table. Ehew! our
grey-bearded senior member has finished his one
magisterial rummer, precisely as the silver tongue of
the pendule behind him notes the first half hour of a
new day gone ; he is slipping silently away behind our
host's chair, with his hand deprecating the syren's call
for "just another thimblefull, sir." It is a signal for
departure, as little to be neglected as the order for a
well disciplined regiment to " lodge arms" and break-
ofi* on parade : so there is a scramble into pea-coats.

" The Odd Trick and the Ruhher."

279

igiie of

goloshes, and mufflers on the spot. Ah ! what a blast
of cold is that which searches througli the door, as tlie
outer porcl) opening reveals just a glint of the eternal
white covering of earth. It must be faced, there is no
use shirking it. Wolfe and I, with any one else going
our way, plunge heavily into it head downwards, chat-
ting the evening over again as we slowly plough home-
wards. Never by any chance in the streets of the town
do we ever meet a living creature, hear the bark of a
dog, or the whine of a restless child. The houses are
sealed by double windows, and animal life is deep
under shelter from the pitiless breath of nature. By
the Baker's Corner we say " Good-night! good-night ! "
Sometimes in the deep silence around I have fancied
tlie dark South Sid': Hills across the frozen harbour
have whispered solemnly again those friendly farewell
words.

Once during the gusty political winter of 18(53,
when parties, pretty evenly balanced, were trying their
strength together in the Assembly, our little club was
nonplussed by the absence of its members, many of
whom wrote M.P.P. after their sponsorial titles. Dis-
sension ran so high that they could rarely slip away
before nine or ten o'clock ; while one Monday night
Michael had actually announced the supper without
the M.P.P.'s putting in an appearance. This might
be nothing extraordinary in Westminster ; but in
Fish -and -fog- land, where primitive and seasonable
hours for business matters still prevailed, it certainly
was. So, on leaving our entertainer's roof, we voted

280

Lost Amid the Fogs.

that we should go up to the House and find out what
was stirring. It must surely be a matter of deep and
vital importance as could warrant the half of such a
goose as we had just left being discussed in the
kitchen ; and yet, prepared as we were for something
picturesque, the imagination fell short of the reality as
the great scarlet folding-doors silently relapsed behind
us. In front we beheld a large well-lighted hall, railed
off for about one-third of its length from the oi polloi,
whose chosen representatives, divided into ministry and
opposition, or ins and outs, by the simple test of reli-
gion, were ranged at little desks on either side, with a
long table for the lawyers in the centre. Above all, at
the far end, raised three stei)8 over the floor, sat the
black-gowned Speaker in a commodious arm-chair, his
face gazing intently at the ceiling, and his thoughts far
away in the land of dreams, probably fancying that he
was cleaving the clouds on the back of a wild goose, —
a natural suggestion caused by the noisy declamations
on his right, and the pleasant supper he had missed.
Down beneath the hollow of his little desk, where his
knees usually had refuge, the Premier, leader of Re-
sponsible Government, was snugly stowed away with a
candle reading "Aurora Floyd;" while the nearest
member had his feet on his desk far above the level
of his head, in an attitude very tempting to any one
with a flexible cane " handy to him." The rest of the
honourable members on both sides of the House were
asleep in the various attitudes usually adopted when
enjoying that luxury in a chair, with one notable

" The Odd Trick and the Ruhher."

281

se were

when

lotable

exception on the opposition benches. This gentleman,
gifted with stentorian kings of about a thousand
horse-power, aided by the bass of a tremendous fist
upon his desk, resounding in strokes of about thirty to
the minute, like the booms of a distant gun, was doing
his best to weary out the Government by a side-wind
in speaking against time upon some unimportant mo-
tion. It was on the proposition that in future, to
prevent imposition, no further reward should be paid
for the skins of wolves (which it was shrewdly sup-
posed were purchased and brought to the colony), that
this chosen lawmaker thus held forth during the first
five minutes of our entrance : —

" And now, sir" (this to the snoring speaker), " I
ask you, I ask you (thump) to put this momentous
question to this Honourable House, whether, under the
mighty considerations submitted to them (thump) by
honourable members, whose voices, silent now, may
still be heard in other forms (thump) ; whose voices
have been heard, I say, in defence of this amendment ;
I ask, sir, shall it be said, shall it go forth to the
world through the press, through the talk and scandal
of this amphibious community, nay, through the
medium of the gallant officers (here he winked at
us) who, I perceive, have just entered the strangers'
gallery, that we, the responsible Parliament of this
colony, ever consented to the wolf wearing his own skin
(thump), when the poor out-harbourman, the starving
fisherman (thump, thump), the slave, the victim
(thump) of the present rotten (thump), nefarious

■ ' " 1

■

^Hif

282

Lost Amid the Fogs.

(thump), undermining system (thump) of the Govern-
ment, sir, now in power (thump, thump, thump),
requires that skin for his own use and that of his
little ones (thump) ? And, sir, I will maintain before
these unprejudiced strangers, I will call upon them
hereafter to bear me witness (thump), nay, I will
call upon higli heaven itself to record its testimony
(thump), that nothing that I have heard from the
cringing lips of any honourable member of that
Government (thump) has given me the faintest idea,
or left a particle of wisdom on my mind (thump),
that tlie wolf would prefer wearing his own skin, when
that instinct, which nature has engrafted in the
bosoms of all wild animals, is teaching it that its
warmth, its comfort, are necessary during the rigours
of our winter to the children of the poor starving
fisherman (thump). Howl, howl, ye winter winds !
weep, nature, weep ! Vain man it is alone who out-
rages thy solemnity ! vain man who, dressed in a little
brief orthodoxy, plays such artistic tricks before his
idols as makes the — the — very angels smile in pity !
Ah! the honourable member starts, he twists, lie
writhes, he is uneasy in his dreams ; what mean those
hollow moans? does he think the angels are bending
over him, and taking his confession ? And is he
lamenting, as well he may, how he, a veritable wolf in
sheep's clothing (thump), year by year at the head of
the long processions of temperance bands, on the first
of May, loudly proclaims the sin of touching a drop of
honest liquor, which is not in the commandments, and

" The Odd Trick and the Ruhherr

283

is he
svolf in

ead of
he first
irop of
ts, and

yet if a stray ship comes in of a Sunday, and wants
her coals quick, sets to work with a will for the
dollars — the dollars, sir (thump), regjardless of the holy
day, which I believe is {thump, tltump) mentioned in
the Commandments ? I ask you, sir, would the wolves
do this? Do they strain at camels, and swallow
gnats? or vice versa, whichever it is, for it comes to
the same in the end. Would the very ourang-outangs
who take the young negresses — but what do I see?
Ah ! something rotten in the state of Denmark ! does
the good lady wish to know where her liege lord is ?
Ah ! a message from the Upper House, which he
knows too well to refuse 1 Is the honourable member
sleepy, and is he about to retire to his domestic
happiness ? will he really not stay a little longer !
Alas ! poor Yorick ! Ah ! what sight is this which
meets my gaze? Horatio, did his highness say —
angels and ministers of grace defend us ! "

The bold speaker checked his torrent of wordy
nonsense for half a minute, fairly bewildered by
astonishment, as well he might be. A boy had
brought a note to the Premier, but not a summons
home as the wild orator hoped. It was to inform
the leader of the government that his mattress and
blankets, for which he had sent, were outside. Forth-
with the Premier closed the fascinating pages of Miss
Braddon's clever story, blew out his candle, and
released himself from the little cupboard under his
desk. Whispering to an honest, old, white-bearded,
wintry member, who, stroking that beard and laughing,

284

Lost Amid the Fogs.

followed him out; in a few minutes they were seen
returning into the House with mattresses over their
shoulders, which were thrown down by the little desks,
and prepared for a night's occupation. Several other
Government members followed their example, which
plainly said to the silly tactics of the Opposition, " talk
away as much as you like now, we 're veiy comfortable,
and mean to see you out, my bucks." And see them
out they did with a vengeance. We of the whist- club
went home to our quiet beds, with a joke or a sigh
over the folly of Kesponsible Government in a com-
munity of a hundred thousand souls, or thereabouts,
three quarters of whom were ignorant, superstitious
fishermen. We thought an hour or so more at most
would finish up the wolves, and their butchers too.
But next day, at one o'clock, on passing by, the
doctor's merry voice, as he rattled along in his gig,
cried out —

" That fellow is still speaking. Go up to the House
and look at the sight ! "

" What ! the same member still at it? impossible ! "
" Fact ! never stopped since yesterday four o'clock 1 "
"Is it possible! well, there'll be pickings for you
out of this."

Ah! ah! likely

enough

good morning ; " and

away went the cheery gleaner of five-pound notes
from young husbands at a swinging pace round the
Baker's Corner.

We went up to the House at once. The area in
front was half filled with the rowdies of the city, while

It ;

" The Odd Trick and the Rnhhcr:

285

the people's gallery was crammed with that ilk. They
more than fancied the Government was to be beaten ;
and the out-harbour folks would see it recorded in large
capitals that the reaction had set in at last. He of
the giant lungs, whom we had left speaking at raid-
night, was still hammering away his incoherent stutf;
not with the force of Nasmyth smashing at a coil of
iron at a white heat, but now rather with the still,
deliberate, measured blows by which the same pond-
erous engine will drive a nail slowly into a beam.
The hand which imitated the hammer was now leaning
heavily on the desk for support, and the whole frame-
work of the man seemed loosened. Still he talked,
talked, talked, though no one listened. The mattresses
of the members were rolled up under the desks ready
for another night if necessary ; and the Pi-emier's
unshaven face wore a look of invincible determination.
He certainly had the best of it. He had had his sleep
and breakfast after a fashion, and the odds were heavy
against his antagonist. We nodded to our friends
among the members, looking miserable enough at their
desks, and smiling as they cast up their hands and
eyes in di.sgust at the situation. However, two hours
after that, })assing by the House again, we saw a
stream hurrying out of the doors, and learnt, as they
rushed past, that it was all over at last. The giant
had just caved in from pure exhaustion, and the
Speaker instantly calling a division, the matter was
settled in a trice. The wolves saved their skins, so far
as the reward for them was henceforward to be nil;

286

Lost A mid the Fogs.

and, no dcmht, he of tlie haramer-lungs would liavc had
a hardisli fi<5ht to save his own had he hoen left to
the mercies of the indignant matrons whose last night's
rest he had so unceremoniously disturbed, and who
received now the extraordinary explanation of the
cause from their disgusted spouses.

This was a farce, a miserable farce, played to annoy
the Ministry by an Opposition, many of whom were
heartily ashamed afteivvards of their share in the
transaction. But it was foUowcnl very soon l)y another
rumpus, which demonstrated in a more serious way
the low ebb to which sound public opinion had fallen
(if, indeed, respect for such a thing existed at all),
and placed the legislators of ll(\sponsible Government
in a far from enviable position. The story may briefly
be told thus : —

The Upper House of the Colony is composed, let us
say, of Messrs A, B, and C, and called the Legislative
Council ; the lower section, styled the Assembly or the
Commons, we will call Messrs D, E, and F ; and note,
that all the members inclusive, from A to F, are
merchants, lawyers, and business men of Fish-and-
fog-land. We may further note that, as a general
rule, A, B, and C do ten or twenty times as much
public work as D, E, or F. But it came to pass
that on the formation of Responsible Government the
Lower House claimed and received a certain amount
of sessional pay to cover expenses of travel, time lost,
&c. <fec. ; and further, that in process of time the

The Odd Trick and the Ilnhhcrr

287

Council, or Upper House, cliiinicd tlic same «:;raiuity.
Then tlie Assembly said, " No 1 no! no! you re])resent
the Lords, and nuist work for nothiii*:^ but honour."
"That's all very fine," re})lied the Lords; "we are
notliinf]^ but business-men, the same as yourselves; we
{^ivc a great deal more time to the i)ublic service than
you do, and if you are paid, so ought we to be." Then
cried the Commons again, "No! no! no! we'll see
you pretty well confounded first ; not a hall'penny will
we vote you." So it went on for several years, until
at last A, B, and C said to D, E, and F, " Now, take
heed, gentlemen, we will^ stand no more of this non-
sense, if you do not vote our money with your own,
we will throw out the Contingency Bill in toto ; you
shall swim in our boat for the future, and do the public
work for honour and glory alone." But 1), E, and F
laughed, saying, " They will never dare do it ; we will
bring the whole country down on them." However,
to their unbounded astonishment. A, B, and C ke})t
their promise, threw out the Contingency or Salary
Bill to the Parliament in 1859, and caused ]), E, and
F to return home to their desks and fish flakes blue
with disgust. In sj^ite of the loud and angry denuncia-
tions of the stump oratory in the out-haibours, the
Council quietly did the same the following year,
making the Commons blue, doubly distilled. Tiiey
felt it was time to com])romise ; and to save their
dignity, in 18G1 they agreed with the Council to
submit the matter to the Duke of Newcastle, the

288

Lost Amid the Fogs.

Colonial Secretary in England, by whose judgment
they consented to be bound. A few months later the
Governor received the Duke's reply as follows : —

" Downing Street, 10</t February 1862.
" Newfoundland. No. 146.

" Sir, — I do not feel that it would become me to
undertake the office of an actual arbitrator between
two branches of tlie Legislature ; but, since they have
desired to know my sentiments, I have inquired into
the practice in the principal neighbouring Provinces,
and I find that in Canada, Nova Scotia, and in New
Brunswick the members of the Legislative Council
receive precisely the same personal allowance as the
members of the Assembly. In Canada this course is
fixed by a permanent Act; and in New Brunswick it
is at the commencement of each Parliament enacted
for the whole duration of that Parliament, so as to
extend to the Council the courtesy of settling the mat-
ter once for all, and preclude its annual discussion.

" Seeing such powerful and uniform precedents,
and considering that a perfect equality in respect of
personal allowances of the present nature would seem
best calculated to maintain the desirable harmony of
feeling between co-ordinate branches of the Legisla-
ture, I am bound to say that my opinion would be in
favour of following the same course in Newfoundland.
— I have, etc.,

(Signed) Newcastle."

'* Governor Sir A. Bannerman, &c. &c. &c."

The Odd Trick and tlie Bubber."

289

Well, gentle reader, what do you suppose was the
course of the representatives of the people under
Responsible Government upon receipt of that letter?
You may probably reply that, as between gentlemen
the matter was settled, not admitting of a doubt ; but
in truth you will be sadly mistaken — sadly mistaken.
There is not much to crow over in such an error, for
even the old Governor, long accustomed as he was to
certain gross feeders on political ofFfil, could hardly
credit his ears, on the common principle of fair-play,
when he was told that the matter was again going to
be treated in the Lower House as if the appeal to the
Duke as umpire had never taken place! It turned
out to be quite true. Man after man had the unblush-
ing bad taste to rise and vote against the Council, on
the plea that the Duke had given only an opinion,
and not a decision ; though they were perfectly aware
that in law he had no right to decide such a question ;
and that, moreover, they had desired his sentiments
on the open right or wrong of the question. In vain
the Premier pointed out this view of an arbitration
as the only honourable course for them to adopt ; in
vain the Speaker nobly supported his friend and old
colleague ; in vain did four other members raise their
voices against a storm of chicanery and unworthy
pleadings which, chequered with personalities, fell like
a hail-storm from the majority. It was not a ministerial
question, so that all creeds were free to vote as they
pleased, and it resulted that the Council's just demand
was again thrown out. The division left it on record,

290

Lost A mid the Fogs.

upon the great photograph of the strange deeds of the
world, that, as it was well said, there was but one sun
in Asia, two kings of Brentford, three tailors of Tooley
Street, four snobs of Liverpool, five heads of John the
Baptist (all original), so now to this famous numerical
roll shall be for ever added (and to be mentioned with
all honour and distinction) the six gentlemen of Fish-
and-fog-land ! *

Did they gain by all this unworthy cliicanery ? No-
thing, absolutely nothing, but utterly lost in the end of
the game both the " odd " trick and rubber ; for the
Council quietly stood their ground, and threw out the
bill for the salaries of the Commons again and again,
until these needy legislators weie starved into equity.
If the noble Colonial Minister kept a diary, some future
Macaulay may find perchance amid its notes strange
comments on the wisdom of entrusting small unfledged
communities, unfettered by any fear of a wholesome
l)ublic judgment on their acts, with the cares of self-
government, in these complicated times of rapid pro-

gress and maturing civilisation.

* Tlu; Attorney-General, The Speaker, The Colonial Secretary, Tlu
lieceiver-General, Dr Winter, ami Mr Leauion.

ll I'

of the
ne sun

Tooley
olm the
merical
eel with
of Fish-

■ ? No-
e end of

for the
T out the
d again.
) equity,
le future
strange

nfiedged

iiolesonie
of seh-

ipid \n-o-

dtary, Tlu'

CHAPTER XVII.

FAREWELL.

LORY to God in the highest, peace on
earth, good will toward men," so runu;
out, clear, musical, and i)leasant, the bells
of the Catholic Cathedral, on a New-
Year's morn, which sun and wind had both agreed
to bless. At least so many of us interpreted the
distant harmony, as we made ready to give that greet-
ing to friends and neighbours after the good old French
custom, possibly introduced from Canadian sources
here. Pity that it is rapidly fading out ; left, indeed,
principally to younger men, who take that opportunity
of introducing their merits or wishes for future acquaint-
ance to the ladies of their class. Yet there were still
the official visits of ceremony which we, as in duty
bound to our elders and superiors, prepared to [)ay ; no
great tax upon one's patience to such pleasant friends ;
to say nothing of the merry gliding over the crisp white
mantle of earth to the music of a thousand bells, cross-
ing from house to house on the same eriand as our-

p^w^^^^-

292

Lost Amid the Fojs.

selves. Crossing too over the chequered marble in the
hall of Government House, in our visits of respect to
the venerable chieftain, who, in his red morocco chair
of state, looked like one of the Northern Vikings, a
tower of strength and power, come back in the form of
a rare old British gentleman.

" Thank ye, thank ye, gentlemen," said he, as we
offered our congratulations ; " I'm pretty weel for an
auld man ; but I '11 throw a line with ye, Maister Wolfe,
after the trout at Cape Race, if this confounded cough
will leave me strength enough in May. Ye see, I'm
just treating it mysel' with a little plain water, and a
squeeze of orange in it. Have you seen her ladyship ?
Weel, then, go and see her, and ye '11 find a glass of
something better to drink our gude Queen's health ; and
he sure you admire her ladyship's hyacinths, for she 's
vera proud of them. Good-bye, good-bye."

8o we passed out, giving place to others, to the
brighter parlour of Lady Bannerman, where, as the
Governor said, the flowers in the gay sunny windows
claimed due admiration ; though by no means casting in
the shade the grandeur of her ladyship's new cap and
velvet dress, before which we bowed with all solemnity
and respect.

Our own good Bishop gave us next his word of good-
will, and we soon found ourselves under the portico of
his honour the Chief-Justice, elbowed by a troop of
y '\ng Irish aspirants for legal honours, with a few who
had already made their footing on the slippery bar.
Like his friend the Governor, Sir Francis eat in his big

Farvivell.

2ys

e in the
spect to
CO chair
kings, a
form of

, as we
I for an
r Wolfe,
d cougli
see, I'm
r, and a
dyship ?
glass of
Itli ; and
or she's

to the
as the
vindows
sting in
•ap and
emnity

)f good-
)rtico of
roop of
ew who
ry bar.
his big

morocco chair, doing full dignity to the ermine, spite of
the merry twinkle of his eye, when he whispered —

"Be off now witli your blarney, and get a glass of
something with Lady Brady. You see," he continued,
'• I've a bad cough, and I'm just after moistening my
throat with a little water, with a squeeze of orange in
it."

Singular identity of beverage ! fragrant too with ii
delicate aroma ; but I fancied rather that of the lemon
than of the orange, and the light colouring due to the
distilled juice of the cane. A mistake on our parts, no
doubt.

And yet it was singular again — very singular, it nnist
be confessed — when we stood in the parlour of the jolly
old President of the Council, that he, with his gouty
feet swathed in flannel, should have remarked —

" And what will ye be taken, mee dear fellows ? is it
poort? You're right, there is worse than that in the
world. You see, I'm just moistening mee lips with a
drop of water, with a squeeze of orange in it ; help your-
selves." The Marchioness's make-believe with Dick
Swiveller was quite a joke to this !

Our last visit— last but not least — was to the great
man of Fish-and-fog-land, — the hearty, excellent, yet
warlike Roman Prelate, at his palace under the shadow
of his great cathedral, on the heights commanding the
city. As it happened, avo were just in the nick of time
to see him in all his glory. Yes, there on the steps of
his front door, in long, black robes, adorned with the
massive gold cross and chain, with attendant priests

294

Lost Amid the Fogs.

iiiouiid, the Bishop stood — a fine, genial, well-favoured
man — about to receive the address of congratulation
from the " Sons of Fishermen " or the Irish Society.
These, at the time, were defiling with flags and banners,
music and symbols, in long snake-like procession before
him. As the leaders reached the presence, a halt was
called, and, for a moment, silence reigned; while we,
beneath a buttress of the cathedral, watched rather
curiously the proceedings. At length his Lordship
fthe first Fisherman of the colony) thus spoke : " Well,
boys, I ni glad to see you all. I hope God will give
us a good year ; and this day year I '11 see you all as
well as I do now, and all that."

Procession. — "Ay, my Lord, that's it. God bless
your Lordship ! "

Then came a pause for at least a minute, during
which not a sound could be heard.

Bishop. — " Well, we 've a fine day, boys ; and, per-
haps, that 's a sign we are going to have a fine year ;
and 1 '11 tell you what, boys, we want a good fishery
this year ; we do, boys, and all that."

Procession. — " Ay, ay, my Lord ; we do, we do.
God bless your Lordship ! "

Another pause : now for the address no doubt.

Bishop. — " I think, boys, God will send us a fine
year, for He knows we want a good fishery, and all
that."

Procession. — " We do, my Lord, we do ; true for you,
my Lord ! God bless your Lordship ! "

Pause again : silence deeper than ever.

FareiveU.

295

favoured

atiilation

Society.

banners,
3n before
halt was
^'hile we,
d rather
Lordship
" Well,
will give
oil all as

od bless

. during

nd, per-
18 year ;
fishery

we do.

a fine
and all

for you,

Bishop (at last). — " Well, boys, I 'm glad to see your
band 's in fine tune ; and I 'm glad to hear it, and all
that."

Procession. — " Thank your Lordship. God bless
your Lordship ! "

Another pause : silence supreme. Both parties evi-
dently exhausted of what they had to do or say. At
length, to our infinite relief, a man with a banner cried
with startling suddenness —

" Three cheers for our Bic-hop ! "

The long, human serpent wriggled and roared accord-
ingly, with good-will and heartiness ; yet it wanted the
true ring for " all that."

But the Bishop smiled, dangled his gold cross, and
bowed three times graciously.

Now, thought somebody, they are going on. Xo ;
there was another terrible pause.

At last another bannerman cried —

" Three cheers for our priests I Hooray ! Hooray ! "

Then the priests bowed very low and solemnly ; the
band struck up, and the tail of the procession alone was
left on the white snow.

Well, it was not very edifying ; indeed, there was a
touch of the ludicrous in the ailair ; neither was the
Bishop oratorical, or apt to seize the passing oi)portunity
for good advice, or even fiummery with his people. But
it was exactly what was expected and desired between
both parties. They simply wanted to recognise each
other in the flesh, and so pass on. His people knew
the Bishop was their master, and, moreover, that he

296

Lost Amid the Fogs.

loved them ; the good Bishop knew he was their master,
and was happy in the knowledge. What need of mere
waste of words in a state of such perfect understanding
and satisfaction. How many a public man, to be on
such terms with his constituents, would gladly put his
oratory and " all that " in his pocket !

Then to his Lordship (John Thomas, 5|), Ave paid our
respects and congratulations as was right and proper.
A hearty reciprocation and a ghss of champagne were
liis return for the compliment, to say nothing of taking
us round his noble library, the finest room in the colony.
His reception-room was handsome, adorned with statuary
from Italy ; but for himself and the priests who lived
with him, the little room below with its deal chairs
and common delf, would have probably been scorned
by a bagman. So strange is the contrast which he
presents in the attributes of his daily life and the
})rofession he upholds. Utter self-denial of personal
luxuries, with the uttermost farthing of power and
authority in all temporal matters with his fellow-men ;
a good man in his own private path ; an unscrupulous
antagonist to all political opponents. He is but true to
ills order after all ; the man himself we may sincerely
respect, but the pride of priestcraft we must equally
deplore.

Alack ! for pleasant friendships formed by a soldier
in his varied service ; alack ! for the new faces he is
ever meeting when he would willingly keep the old.

i|: , I

Farewell.

297

soldier
he is
old.

Before the revolving cycle of the new year came round
again, our orders carried us suddenly away from scenes
we had now learnt to love so well, to begin another act
in the great drama of life. The young man setting out
in a military profession, in tiie first burst of eager
youth, anticipates with joy all the friends he will make,
all the countries he will visit, all the varied aspects of
nature which will change before him. It is very plea-
sant for a few years ; but as the fire of youth cools the
pleasure palls, until at last, when sober manhood
crowns the edifice, the order to change is generally,
even in a bad station, a signal for regret ; pain to bid
adieu to old familiar features and friends, pain to think
of the irksomeness of removing these necessary duties
elsewhere. One may think, besides, that the good
things present cannot be replaced at all. The broad
blue expanse of ocean opening out at Logic Bay ; the
bubbling trout-streams trickling between the hills ; the
broad breezy barrens, fruit-ladened and fringed witli
copse ; the glorious heathy walks over hill and dale ;
the sport without fear or license, not to be beaten in
its own way any where ; the very dogs who follow us
with love, with love returned ; the plants we have
raised and tended ; the voices we have been accustomed
to so many years ; our Sunday strollings round the
margin of the dark blue lake ; the great fleecy clouds
condensing on the hills, like armies drawn out for
battle array ; the Indian summer, with its sober sad
reflections ; our genial gatherings in winter : are all —

208

Lost Amid the Fo"s.

and many, many more — associations which we scarcely
hope to renew. Brighter skies and brighter scenes may
await us in other lands ; fruits and flowers spread their
choicest temptations before thirsty admiring eyes ; but
nowhere else can man grasp the hand of his fellow
man with greater trust, or with greater confidence in
a hearty welcome eat his neighbour's bread. This it
was which smoothed down every rough path for us,
and lighted up the dreariest days of winter with gleams
of gladness, towards which brighter suns or happier
climes, by these unaided, might have wooed and charmed
in vain.

It came at last, that fatal order to " move on." All
our little belongings passed into other hands ; and one
bright morning in June we stood on the deck of the
steamer, gazing up to the noble cliffs as she passed
through the Narrows out to sea. From the corner of
the little battery, far far up directly over our heads,
some men waved a flag ; and a woman held up a baby
in token, I suppose, of love to another woman who had
done her, and many others, some silent deeds of kind-
ness. The bluff shoulders of the rocks soon shut out
from sight the harbour, the city, our own house, the
landmarks of past years ; while before us spread the
mighty Atlantic, like an unknown page in our future
lives. Far out at sea the great white clouds from the
Gulf Stream came rolling up before the gentle wind ;
and when, about an hour afterwards, we entered their
chilling folds, the purple cliffs of Fish-and-fog-land

scarcely
en 68 may
end their
yes; but
is fellow
dence in

This it
I for 118,
^ gleams

happier
charmed

Farewell.

2!M)

passed for ever out of sight; lost amid the eton.nl
mists which, as the smoke of a battle-field, proclaim
the sdent conflict of the vast elements of nat.nv
striving together under mysterious immutable laws for
the cycles of change, and the progress of earth towards
a never-to-be-Jittained maturity.

n." All
and one
I of the
! passed
3rner of
r heads,
» a baby
vho had
)f kind-
hut out
ise, the
3ad the
' future
•om the
I wind ;
id their
3g-land

"^* ■^

fcSv

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™,^ ?^i{^'^S^^^ "^ PEMBROKE'S ARCADIA. Written

,L n V''',P *^"l"«y- Kdited.with Notes.by the Author of'TheUentle
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All tin- best t/i,„ns m the Armdia arc ntahml intiirt in Mr. frmveWs
fftim and n-rn Ijrowjht into yreatir prominenrc th„n in the oriqinnh /'V
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Its etlojtus find other metrical (tir/ressions"—\:xiimuivr

^/nJ.JY '•'""■'■ "'l"'''l- "'•^'/"'•''. to '"'t-e repuhhshed the Arcadia in the
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THE GENTLE LIFE. Second Series.

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^"^foI'lL^rl-"."'/^''"^ ^'"•'^ ^°"''«- Reprinted, by permis-
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l)r tm'''"''"'v ~T'"' ^"K'''''' J)oetor. Nostradamus, Thomas d Kempis
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„ ^ , , Co.\TE.\TS.

How to reiiil the Scriptures
Unrensonal)le Inddelit

The Great Loss of the World'lins
Certainty of Death . .

On the Greatness of God
Our Daily Hread . . . '
The Art of Contentment '. '.
The P'oolish Exchange . . '
Of a Peaceable Temper .
On the -Marriage King
Nearer to God . ' .

The Sanctity of Home '.
The Thankful Heart . '.
Silence, Meditation, and Rest.
And other Essays by the Editor.

From the Homilies.
Isaac Harrow.
Uicliard Baxter.
Dean Sherlock.
JMiissillon.
Bishop Latimer.
Archbishop Sandys.
Jeremy Taylor.
Isaac Barrow.
Jeremy Taylor.
Archbishop Sandys.
John Iluskin.
Isaak Walton.

Second Edition. Nearly readv.

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PHE Life of John James Audubon, the Naturalist, in-

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" The book before us supplies a large quantity of minute and valuable
information roiieerning a country of high commercial and national import-
ance, and as to ichich the amount of popular information is even more than
crdinarily scanty. The author speaks with the authority of an eye-witness ;
and the minuteness of detail ivhirh his work exhibits will, to 7nost readers,
go far to establish iY.v trustiforthiness." — Saturday Review.

" IVe have no hesitation in saying that from these pnqesmay be gathered
more information about the social life of the Chinese than can be olitained
from any other source. The imjiortance of the work as a key to a right
understanding of the character of .to vast a portion of the human race ought
to insure it an extensive circulation." — Atl>ena;um.

List of Publications.

The Open Polar Sea ; a Narrative of a Voyage of Discovery
towards the North Pole. By J)r. Isitau I. Hnyes. Au entirely new and
cheiiper edition. With IllustratiouH. Small post 8vo. 6s.

" The story of this lust Arctic fiiti'r/)risf is most stirring, and it is well
for Dr. Ilnijvs's litrrary venture thiit this is the aise,/or it 7nust be con-
ceded thiit the (jreiit number of works on Arctic voynges has somewhat dulled
the edge of curiosity with which they were formerly received by the public ;
but a spell (f fascination will ever cling to the narrative of brave and ad-
venturous travel, and Dr. Hayes's heroism and endurance are of no com-
mon order. . . . This was the crowning feat of Dr. Hayes's enterprise.
He set up a cairn, within which he deposited a record, stating that njter a
toilsome march if forty-six days from his leinter harbour, he stood on the
shores of the Polar basin, on the most northerly land e\ er reai'hed by man.
The latitude attained was 81 deg. ;i.5 inin. ; that reached by I'arry over the
ice was 82 deg. 45 min. . . . ]\'hat ice have said of Dr. Hayes's book
will, we trust, send many readers to its pages." — Atheiiirum.

Life amongst the North and South American Indians. By
George C'atlin. And Last Huiubles umoiigst the Indians beyond the
Kocky Mountains and the Andes. With numerous Illustrations by the
Author. 2 vols, small post, 5s. each.

" Au admirable book, full of useful information, wrapt up in stories
peculiarly adapted to rouse the iiniiginaiion and stimulate the curiosity of
boys ana girls. To compare a book with ' Uobinson Crusoe,' and to say
thiit it sustains such comparison, is to give it high praise indeed." —
Athemcum.

The Voyage Alone; a Sail in the " Yawl, Rob Roy." By John
M'Gregor, Anther of " A Thousand Miles in the Hob Roy Canue. With
Illustrations. 5s.

" JVo man is better entitled to give such advice than the aquatic adven-
turer whose ' Thou.iand Miles in the Hob Hoy Canoe ' has become a familiar
book to every educated l-Jnglishman who is wont to seek his pastime on the
deep. ' The I 'oyage Alone ' is .suitably illustrated, and through its pleasant
pages, the I'aic-l Jiob Uoy will become as widely and favourably known as
the Hob Hoy Canoe." — Athenopum.

A Thousand Miles in the Rub Roy Canoe, on Rivers and Lakes
of Europe. By John M'Uregor, MA. Filth edition. With a Map,
and numerous Illustrations. Also/Iho U"l) lioy on the Itiiltio. A Canoe
Voyage in Norw.iy, Sweden, &c. With a Jlap and numerous Illustra-
tions, i'riee 5.';. each volume, handsomely bound in eluth.

" It possesses the rare merit of displayimt familiar districts of Europe
from an entirely new point if vieir ; it is iiritten in a lively, unaj/ected
style, so that one thoroughly syinpnthises with the hiro of the tale; iind U
is profusiiy illustrated with a number of spirited and occasionally very
humorous woodcuts, displaying skipper and craft in alt sorts of places and
positions." — Times.

Description of the New Rub Roy Canoe, built for a Voyage
through Norway, Sweden, and the Italtir. Dedicated to the Canoe Club
by the Captain. With Illustiiitinns. I'riee l.s.

Letteks on England. By M. Louis Blanc. Two Series,
eui'h 2 vols. Itj.-'

" Thi SI- s/Kirkling tetters irrilten iii and within ' (Jld England' by a wit,
a scholar, and a gentleman." — Atlienii'iini.

•' Letters full of epigram, and if singular charness and sense." —
Spectator.

" The author is very fair in his opinions of English habits, English in-
stitutions, and ICnglian public men ; his eulogy is iliscriminiiting, and his
censures are fur the most port siirh as Englishmen themselves must acknow-
ledge to be just." — Saturday Kevicw.

1 I

•

l\-

Sampson Low and Co*s

Brazil aiitl the Brazilians. Puurtrayed in Historical and De-
Kriptive Sketches by the Rev. James C. Fletcher and the Rev. D. P.
Kidder, D. D. An enlarf^ement of the original work, presenting the
Material and Moral Progress of the £inpire during the last Ten Vears,
and the results of the Authors' recent Explorations on the Amaion to
the verge of Pern. With 150 Illnstrations. 8vo. cloth estra. 18«.

Old England. Its Scenery, Art, and People. By James M.

Hoppin. 1 vol. small post 8vo. Is. id.

The Black Country and its Green Border Land ; or, Expedi-
tions and Explorations round Birmingham, Wolverhampton, &c. By
Eliho Burritt. 8vo. cloth. lOs. M.

A Walk from London to John O'Groats, and from London to
the Land's End and Back. With Notes by the Way. By Elihu Bnrritt
Two vols, price 6$. each, with lUastrations.

" No one can take up this book without reading it through. We had
thought that Elihu Burritt' s' Walk to John O' Grout's House" u-as the
most perfect specimen of its kind that had ever seen the light, so genial,
lively, and practical were the details he had brought together ; but he has
beaten his former literary production out of the field by this additional
evidence of acuteness, impartiality, and good sound, sense. '^' — Bell's Weekly
INIessenger.

The Diamond Guide to Paris. 320 pages, with a Map and up-
wards of 100 Illnstrations. Cloth, 2s. M.

Travelling in Spain in the Present Dav by a party of Ladies and
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Captain Hall's Life with the Esquimaux. New and cheaper

Edition, with Coloured Engravings and upwards of 100 Woodcuts. With
a Map. Price Is. M. cloth extra. Forming the cheapest and most popn-
lar Edition of a work on Arctic Life and Exploration ever published.

" This is n very remarkable book, and unless ice very viuch misunder-
stand both him and his book, the author is one of those men of whom great
nations do icell to be proud." — Spectator.

Turkey. By J. Lewis Farley, F.S.S., Author of " Two Years
in Syria." With IllnstratioDs'in Chromo-lithography, and a Portrait of
His Highness Fuad Pasha. 8vo. 12s.

Wild Scenes in South America ; or, Life in the Llanos of Vene-
suela. By Don Ramon Paez. Numerous Illustrations. Post 8vo. cl. 105. 6<i.

The Land of Thor. By J. Rosse Browne. With upwards of

100 Illustrations. Cloth 8s. tW

The Story of the Great March : a Diary of General Sherman's
Campaign through Ueorgia and the Carolinas. By Brevet-Major Q. W.
Nichols, Aide-de-Camp to General Sherman. With a coloured Map and
numerous Illustrations. 12mo. cloth, price 75. M.

The Prairie and Overland Traveller ; a Companion for Emigrants,
Traders, Travellers, Hnnters, and Soldiers, traversing great Plains and
Prairies. By Capt. R. B. Marcey. Illustrated. Fcap. 8vo. cloth, 2s. M

Home and Abroad {Second Series). A Sketch-book of Life, Men,
and Travel, by Bayard Taylor. With Illnstrations, post 8vo. cloth,

8s. 6ry.

List of Publications.

^""Lanlalln'^Tv • Summer and Winter Pictures of Sweden,

Lapland, and Norway, by Bayard Taylor. 1 vol. post 8vo., cloth, 8«. 6d
Also by the same Author, each complete in 1 vol., icith Illustrations.

Central Africa; Kftypt and the White Nile. 7s. 6rf.

India, China, and Japan. 7.t. (id.

Palestine, Asia Minor, Sicily, and Spain. 7.?. M

iravels in Greece and Russia. With an Excursion to Crete. Is. 6d
• Colorado. A Summer Trip. 74-, 6d.

After the War . a Southorn T..ur extending from Mav, 1865,
to May, 18. .i. By Whitlaw lieid. Librarian to tfe House of iJepreseu-
tatives. Illustrated. Post 8vo. price 10s. M. "tpreseu

Thirty Years of Army Life on the Border. By Colonel R. B.
^^:^:^l^!'-l^'^:^.'''''' Prairie Traveller.-^ With aumerou.

INDIA, AMERICA AND THE COLONIES.

"^^ HE Great West. Guide and Hand-Book for Travellers

Miners, and Kraigrants to the Wci-tcni and I'aciflc States of
America; with a new Map. By Kdwurd II. Hall. Is.

Anpletim's Iland-Book of American Travel — The
.Wt hern Tlmir; with Maps of Koutes of Travel and the principal
titles. Uy Lduard II. Hall. New Edition. 1 vol. post 8vo. V2s.

T-,velyo Years in Canterbury, New Zealand : with Visits to the
other Provinces, and Heminiscences of the Houte Home t

lia. By Mrs. Charles Thomson.

„ , hrough Austra-

Fcap. 6V0. cloth, 'is. W.

Life's Work as it is ; or, the Emigrants Home in Australia. By
a Colonist. Smal iiost Mvn .'t<i n,l J

By Henry T. N.

a Colonist. Small post Svo. 3s. W.?

Canada in 1864; a Hand-book for Settlers.

ChesshyTe. Fcap. 8vo. 2s. (W.

,n'n V !!'''.' " 7"" (''" «'""/'""'7 to s"!/ he can convnj n yooddenl of matter
in a J, a- words J /us Uwk ,s hd „ small book, yit ,t haves nothii, untM
thatra/,ur,s t^llnaj. The author ,., himself a settler, and hnows^^^
-Atheii-cum" ''"•"■^'"•yy'"- t/'ose uho are about to become stttkn."

A History of the Discovery and Exploration of Australia; or.

an Acconnt of the Progress of Geopraphi.al Discovery in that Cci-
uient, from the Kar .est Period to the I'resent Hay. By (he Kev Jul 1
1-. Tenison W oods, b'.U.G.H., &c., &c. 2 vols, demy 8vo. cloth, 28s

Jamaica and the Colonial Office : Who caused the Crisis ? Bv
Ueorge Pnce, Ksr, late Member of the Executive Committees of Go
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The Colony of Victoria : its Hist.)ry, Commerce and n.AA
Mining: its Social and Political Institnti^^s. down toZ'K^d of iS
With tlemajks.iicdental and Comparative, upon the other Austrahan

s^^.c^:^:^:;^:\i:^^;^;H:^:^'- -^ -•'-- and rti^

Sampson Low and Co.'s

The Prngvess and Present State of British India ; a Manual of
Indian History, Geography, and Finance, for general use ; based apon
OfUciul Documents, furnished under the authority of Her Maje8t)r'i
Secretary of State for India. Uy Montgomery Martin, Esq., Author
of a " History of the British Colonies," &c. Post 8vo. cloth, 10s. tW.

The Cotton Kingdom : a Traveller's Observations on Cotton and
Slavery in America, based upon three former lolnmes of Travels and
KxploratioDS. By Frederick Law Ulmsted. With Map. 2 vols, post 8vo.
1/. Is.

A History of the Origin, Formation, and Adoption of the Con-
stitution of the United States of America, with Notices of its Principal
Framers. By George Ticknor Curtis, Esq. 2 vols. 8vo. Cloth, U. is.

The Principles of Political Economy applied to the Condition,
the Resources, and Institutions of the American People. By Fraucit
Bowen. 8vo. Cloth, 14s.

A History of New South Wales from the Discovery of New
Holland in 1616 to the present time. By the late Roderick Flanagan,
Ksq., Member of the Philosophical Society of New South Wales. 2
vols. 8vo. 24s.

Canada and its Resources. Two Prize Essays, by Hogan and
Morris. 7s., or separately. Is. 6d. each, and Map, 8s.

SCIENCE AND DISCOVERY.

DICTIONARY of Photography, on the Basis of
Sutton's Dictionary. Rewritten by Professor Duwson, of King's
College, Editor of the " Jonrnal of Photogrophy ;" and Thomas
Sutton, B.A., Editor of " Photograph Notes." 8vo. with
numerous Illustrations. 8.1. M.
" The most important of the numerous hooks in connexion u-ith photo-
graphy which have issued jfrom the press for several years, — a book ivhich
is calculated to prove eminently valuable and useful to photographers." —
British Journal of Photography.

AHistory of the Atlantic Telegraph. By Henry M. Field. 12mo.

7.f. 6rf.

The Structure of Animal Life. By Louis Agassiz. With 46
Diagrams. 8vo. cloth, 10s. 6rf.

The Physical Geography of the Se,i and its ISIeteorology ; or, the
Economy of the Seu and its Adaptations, its Salts, its Waters, its Climates,
its Inhabitants, and whatever tnere may be of geinrol interest in its Com-
mercial Uses or Industrial Pursuits. By Commander M. F. Maury, LL.D.
Tenth Edition. With Charts. Post 8vo. cloth ( xtra, 5s.

" To Captain Maury tve are indebted for much information — indeed, for
all that mankind possesses—of the crust if the earth beneath the blue
u-ate,'S of the Atlantic and Pacific oceans. Hopelessly scientific would
these suli/erts be in the hands of most men, yet Ujn n each and all of them
Captain Maury enlists our attention, or charms us with explanations and
theories, replete with orii/inality and genius. Ilis is indeed a nautical
manual, a hand-book of the sea, investing tcith frrsh interest every wave
that bents upon our .chores ; and it cannot fail to awaken in both sailor*
and landsmen a craving to know more intimately the secrets of that won-
derful element. The good that Maury has done m awakening the powers
of observation of the lioyal and Mercaritile Anvies 'f k'nglandand America
is incalculable." — Blackwood's Magazine.

! -->

List of Publications.

The Kedge Anchor ; or, Young Sailor's Assistant, by WiUiam
Brady. Seventy Illustrations. 8vo. 16*.

'^'*^.l!'''»' ^^' Studies of the Cosmogony and Natural History of
the Hebrew Scriptures. By Professor bawson, Principal of McGill
ColleKe, Canada. Post 8vo. cloth, cheaper edition, 6s.

"^'^^ ??.<=,«"* J'rogress of Astronomy, by Elias Loomis, LL.D.

3rd Edition. Post 8vo. Is.M. •" •> >

An Introduction to Practical Astronomy, by the Same. 8vo.

Clot He OSt

Manual of Mineralogy, including Observations on Mines, Rocks.
2^ ?n.'.!fr°H ^*'' t',"^"'^ Application of the Science to the Arts, with

James L>. Dana A.M.. Author of a " System of Mineralogy." Kew Edi-
tion, revised and enlarKed. 12mo. Half bound, 7s. 6d.

Cyclopaedia of Mathematical Science, by Davies and Peck. 8vo.
Sheep. 18s.

TBADE, AGRICVZiTURE, ETC.

HE Book of Farm Implements, and their Construction:
by John L. Thomas. \Vith 200 Illustrations. 12mo. 6s. 6</

'^'^gfi Practical Surveyor's Guide ; by A. Duncan. Fcp.

Villas and Cottages; by Calvert Vaux, Architect. 300 Illustra.

tions. ovo. cloth. 125.

Bee-Keeping. By «' The Times" Bee-master.

numerous Illustrations, cloth, 5s.

" Our friend the liee-master has the knack of exposition avd knnw»

how to tell a story uetl; over and above uhich/he7elTstorysoZ*t

■ -Times ""' ' " practical, and not merely a h'eculataeiT/esiinit.-'

Small post 8vo.

The Bubbles of Finance : the Revelations of a City Man Fcan
8vo. fancy boards, price 2s. 6d. '^

The Profits of Panics. By the Author of « The Bubbles of

r inance. 12mo. boards, is.

Coffee ! A Treatise on its Nature and Cultivation. With some

r"\v l',.? *m' '""""""T"'" n"'l pnrchnse of Coffee Estates. By Arthur
it. W. Lascelles. Post 8vo. cloth, 2s. (x/. -"Jiuur

The Railway Freighter's Guide. Defining mutual liabihties of
Carriers and Freighters, and explaining system of rates accounts
invoices, checks, hooking, and permits, anS all othei detafs pertaTnii!;
to trafHc management, as sanctioned by Acts of Parliame ? C aws^
and General Usage. By J 8. Martin. 12mr. Cloth -'iW "y^'^^"^'-

Sampson Low and Co.^s

! I

THEOLOGY.

HE Origin and History of the Books of the New Testa-
ment, Canouicul uiid Apocryphal.' Dusigned to show what the
Bible is not, what it is, and how to nsu it. By Professor C. K
Stowe. 8vo. as. t3rf. With plates, 10s, 6rf.

" The wur/i exhibits in ercri/ pnye the stiimj) of untiriiw industry, per-
soiuii resairch, anil .sound nut hod. There is such, a tone if heart;/ earnest-
ness, eiijnroHS thought, and clear derisive ej-/jressiiin about the booh, that one
is eordiati y disposed to leetcuinea theuluijiaU teurh whieh is neither unitarian
in doctrine, sensatiuiuU in style, nor destructive in spirit." — London
Ue\ iew.

" The author brings out forcibly the overwhelmin/; manuscript evidence
for the boohs of the New Testament as compared with the like evidence for
the best attested of the profane writers. . . . tie adds these remarhs :
' / insert these extracts here because the Fathers had ways of looking at
the books of the Bible tchich in our day have nearly become obsolete, and
which ouijlit, in some measure at least, to be revived. The incredulity of
our own times in regard to the Jlible is due, not su much to the want of
evidence as to the want of that reverence, and a//'ection, and admiration of
the Hrriptures, which so distinguished the Christians of the early ayes,'
words in which we can heartily concur." — Chui'fhman.

'* Without making ourselves res/ionstble for all the icriter's opinions, par-
ticularly on the {/ucsfion if inspiratiim, we have no hesitation in recording
our judgment that this is one (j the most useful books which our times have
produced." — Watclimun.

" 'The book is veri/ ably written, and will be read with pleasure by alt
those who wish to Jind fresh arguments to con/inn them in their faith." —
Observer.

The Vicarious Sacrifice ; grounded on Principles of Universal
Ohlipiition. By Horace Bushnell, D.D., Author of " Nature and the
Superniitural," &c. t'lowii %\o. Is. 6d.

" An important contribution to theological literature, whether ice regard
the amount of thought which it contains, the systematic nature of the
treatise, or the practical effect of its teaching. . . . No one can rise
from the study of his Look without having his mind enlarged by its pro-
found speculation, his devotion stirred by its piety, and his faith established
on a broader basis of thought and knowledge." — Quardian.
Also by the same Author.

Christ and His Salvation, (is.

Nature and the Supernatural. 3s. Qd

Christian Nurture. Is. lid.

Character of Jesus. 6d.

New Life. 1.?. 6d.

Work and I'lay. 3,?. 6d.

The Land and the Book, or Biblical Illustrations drawn from
the -Manners and Customs, the Scenes and the Scenery of the Holy Land,
by W. M. Thomson, M.D., twenty-tlve years a Missionary in Syria and
Palestine. With 3 ^laps and several hundred Illustrations. 2 vols.
Post 8vo. cloth. 1/. Is.

Missionary Geography for the use of Teachers and Missionary
Collectors. Fcap. 8vo. with numerous maps and illustrations, 'is. 6rf.

A Topographical Picture of Ancient Jerusalem ; beautifully co-
loured. Nine feet by six feet, on rollers, varnished. 3^ 3s.

The Light of the World : a most True Kclation of a Pilgrimess
travelling towards Eternity. Divided into Three Parts; which deserve
to be read, understood, and considered by all who desire to be saved.
Reprinted from the edition of 1096. Beautifully printed by Clay on
toned paper. Crown 8vo. pp. 593, bevelled boards, 10s. M,

List of Publications.

The Life of the late Dr. Mountain, Bishop of Quebec. 8vo.
cloth, price 10*. (id.

The Mission of Great Suffering.s. By Elihu Burritt. 12mo. 5s.

" Mr. Burritt .tf WAm this chord of sijmpntlw with mi/rcring in fonc.i that
mnlxP the remler'n heart thrdl within him. flut thr tales he tell.i >/ the
present ar/e must not lie allowed to leave the impression that we hare sailed
into an t'topian period of a livinrj and iinirersal lore, lioth of God and
man. They do prove— and it is a precious and clwcrini/ thing, allhoui/h not
the most precious— that the present //eneration is proiiiptli/ pitiful iit any
cost of self-sacrifice towards evils that it really feels to tie evils, diseaseaiid
hunijer, and cold and nahedness. The book is a .ipeciincn of powerful,
heart -stirring uriting."~QuaTdian.

" This is n most v'aliinhlc work on a suhject of deep importance. The
object is to show the aim and action of great su/ferings in the development
of Christian faith and of spiritual life.'''— Ohaeryer.

Faith's Work Perfected. The Rise and Trojrress of the Orphan
Houses of Halle. From the Oerman of Framke. By William L
Oage. Fcap. 2s. &/.

A Short Method of Prayer; an Analysis of a Work so entitled

by Madame de la Mothe-Guyoii ; by Thomas C. Upham, Professor of
Mental and Moral Philosophy in Bowdoin CoUeffe.U.S. America. Printed
by Whittinffham. 12mo. cloth. Is.

Christian Believing and Living.

Crown 8vo. cloth, 3s. 6d.

By F. D. Huntington, D.D.

Life Thoughts. By the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher. Two Series,

complete in one volume, well printecl and well bound. 2,<!. 6(/. Hupcrior
edition, illustrated with ornumented borders. Sm. 4to. cloth extra. 7s. M.

Dr. Beecher's Life and Correspondence: nn Autobiography.
Edited by his Son. 2 vols, post 8vo. with Illustrations, price Ul.v.

Life and Experience of Mudjime do la Mothe Guyon. By Pro-
fessor Uphum. Edited by an Enjilish Clergyman. Crown 8vo. cloth, with
Portrait. Third Kditiou, 7,?. lid.

lly the same Author.
Life of Madame Catherine Adornii; 12mo. cloth. 4s. M.
The Life of Faith, and Interior Life. 2 vols. 5s. 6d euch
The Divine Union. 7s. tSrf.

XiAW AND JURISPRUDENCE.

HEATON'S Elements of International Law. An
entirely new edition, edited by R. E. Dana, Author of
"Two \ ears before the Must," &c. Uoyal 8vo. cloth extra
30s.

History of the Law of Nations; by Henry Wheaton. LL.D.
author of the " Elements of Internationai Law." 'Roy. 8vo. cloth, 31s. M.

Commentaries on American Law; bv Chancellor Kent. Ninth
and entirely New Edition. 4 vols. 8vo. calf. 5/. 5s. ; cloth, il. 10s.

Treatise on the Law of Evidence : by Simon Greenleaf, LL.D.
3 vols. 8vo. calf. il. is. '

Sampson Low and Co.^a

Treatise on the Measure of Damao^es; or, An Enquiry into
the Print'iples which (fovern the Araount of Compensution lu ConrtB of
Justice. Uy Theodore Sedgwick. I'liird revised Kdition, enlarged.
Imperial 8vo. cloth. '6ls. M.

Justice Story's Commentaries on the Constitution of the United

States. 2 vols. Ms.

Justice Story's Commentaries on the Laws, viz. Bailments-
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flict of Laws. vols. 8vo. cloth, each 28s.

Justice Story's Ecjuity Jurisprudence. 2 vols. 8vo. 63».; and
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W. W. Story's Treatise on the Law of Contracts. Fourth Edi-
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FICTION AND MISCEI.IiANSOUS.

NEW Novel. By Mrs. H. B. Stowe. 3 vols.

[Immediiiteli/.

Cousin Jack ; a Domestic Novel. By a new writer.
2 vols, crown 8vo. 16.?.

Norwood. By Henry Ward Beecher. ' 3 vols, crown 8vo., 24s.
Other People's Windows. By J. Hain Friswell. 2 vols, post 8vo.

[^Shortly.

The Guardian Anojel: a Bomance. By the Author of " The
Autocrat of the Breakfast Table." Second Kdition. 2 vols, post 8vo.
16s.

Toilers of the Sea. By "Victor Hufjo. Translated by W. Moy
Thomas. Cheap edition. With engravings from original pictures by
Qustave Dore. Crown 8vo. 6s.

Bentinck's Tutor: One of the Family. By the Author of
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Dr. Muspratt's I'atients. By Dutton Cook, Author of " Paul

Foster's Daughter." 1 vol. post 8vo., price 8s.

Anne Judge, Spinster. By F. W. Robinson, Author of " Grand-
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Passing the Time. By Blanchard Jerrold. 2 vols, post 8vo. 16t.

Marian Rooke. By Henry Sedley. 3 vols. 24».

Sir Felix Foy, Bart. By Dutt(m Cook. 3 vols, post 8vo. 24».
The Trials of the Tredgolds. By the same. 3 vols. 24s.
Hobson's Choice, by the same Author. 2s.

A Mere Story. By the Author of " Twice Lost." 3 vols. 24f.

John Godfrey's Fortunes. By Bayard Taylor. 3 vols. 24*.
Hannah Thnrston. By the some Anthor. 3 vols. 24«.

List of Publications.

Entertaining and Excellent Stories for Young Ludies, 3«. 6d. each,

cloth, gilt edges.

Helen Felton's Qiit'stioii: n Hnok for Girls. Hy Agues Wylde.

Faith Uartiify » Uirlhood. Uy .Mrs. D. T. Whitney. Seventh thouiand.

The Oayworlhy.s. Uy the same Author, 'l hird Kdition.

A Hiitninc-r iji Leslie UoUllhwaite's Life. l)y the same .Viithnr.

The Mas(|iie at Liullow. Uy the Author of " Mary I'owell." New F.di-

tiori. Small post Svn.
Miss liiddy Frohislier; a Halt Water Story. Uy the same Anther. New

Udition.
Selvaggio; a Story nf Italy. Hy the same Author. .\ew F.dition.
The Journal of a Waiting; (JeiitlewiiMian. Ity a new .Xutlior. .New Kdition
The Shady Side and the Sunny Side. l)y Country I'a.itors' Wives.

Marian ; or, tlio U^;ht of Some One's Homo. Uy Maud Jeanne
Franc. Small post Svo., 5.v.

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