page images generously made available by early canadiana online (http://www.canadiana.org/eco/) note: images of the original pages are available through early canadiana online. see http://www.canadiana.org/eco/itemrecord/ ?id=b c a f a lady rosamond's secret: a romance of fredericton. by re. agatha armour. st. john, n. b. telegraph printing and publishing office. . introduction. the object of the following story has been to weave simple facts into form dependent upon the usages of society during the administration of sir howard douglas, - . the style is simple and claims no pretensions for complication of plot. every means has been employed to obtain the most reliable authority upon the facts thus embodied. the writer is deeply indebted to several gentlemen of high social position who kindly furnished many important facts and showed a lively interest in the work, and takes the present opportunity of returning thanks for such support. in producing this little work the public are aware that too much cannot be expected from an amateur. hoping that this may meet the approval of many, the writer also thanks those who have so generously responded to the subscription list. fredericton. august, . lady rosamond's secret a romance of fredericton. chapter i. old government house. breathes there a man with soul so dead, who never to himself hath said, this is my own, my native land!--_scott._ a september sunset in fredericton, a. d. . much has been said and sung about the beauteous scenes of nature in every clime. scott has lovingly depicted his native heaths, mountains, lochs and glens. moore draws deep inspiration amid scenes of the emerald isle, and strikes his lyre to chords of awakening love, light and song. cowper, southey and wordsworth raised their voices in tuneful and harmonious lays, echoing love of native home. our beloved american poet has wreathed in song the love of nature's wooing in his immortal hiawatha. forests in their primeval grandeur, lovely landscapes, sunrise, noonday and sunset--each has attracted the keen poetic gaze. though not the theme of poet or pen--who that looks upon our autumn sunset can deny its charms? the western horizon, a mass of living gold, flitting in incessant array and mingling with the different layers of purple, violet, pink, crimson, and tempting hues of indescribable beauty; at intervals forming regular and successive strata of deep blue and red, deepening into bright red. suddenly as with magic wand a golden cloud shoots through and transforms the whole with dazzling splendour. the bewildering reflection upon the trees as they raise their heads in lofty appreciation, forms a pleasing background, while heaven's ethereal blue lies calmly floating above. the gently sloping hills lend variety to the scene, stretching in undulations of soft and rich verdure; luxuriant meadow and cultivated fields lie in alternate range. the sons of toil are returning from labour; the birds have sought shelter in their nests; the nimble squirrel hides beneath the leafy boughs, or finds refuge in the sheltering grass, until the next day's wants shall urge a repeated attack upon the goodly spoils of harvest. soon the golden sheen is departing, casting backward glances upon the hill tops with studied coyness, as lingering to caress the deepening charms of nature's unlimited and priceless wardrobe. amid such glowing beauty could the mind hold revel on a glorious september sunset in fredericton, . to any one possessed with the least perception of the beautiful, is there not full scope in this direction? is not one fully rewarded by a daily stroll in the suburban districts of fredericton, more especially the one now faintly described? if any one asks why the present site was chosen for government house in preference to the lower part of the city, there would be no presumption in the inference--selected no doubt with due appreciation of its view both from river and hills on western side. truly its striking beauty might give rise to the well established title of "celestial city." though unadorned by lofty monuments of imposing stateliness, costly public buildings, or princely residences, fredericton lays claim to a higher and more primitive order of architecture than that of hellenic ages. the universal architect lingered lovingly in studying the effect of successive design. trees of grace and beauty arose on every side in exquisite drapery, while softly curved outlines added harmony to the whole, teaching the wondrous and creative skill of the divine. the picturesque river flows gently on, calm, placid, and unruffled save by an occasional splash of oars of the pleasure seekers, whose small white boats dotted the silvery surface and were reflected in the calm depths below. on such an evening more than half a century ago when the present site of government house was occupied by the plain wooden structure known as "old government house," a group of ladies was seated on the balcony apparently occupied in watching the lingering rays descending behind the hills. suddenly the foremost one, a lovely and animated girl whose beauty baffled description, espied a gentleman busily engaged in admiring some choice specimens of flowers which were being carefully cultivated by a skilful gardener. bounding away with the elasticity of a fawn, her graceful form was seen to advantage as she stood beside the high-bred and distinguished botanist. the simple acts of pleasantry that passed shewed their relationship as that of parent and child. sir howard douglas was proud of his beautiful and favorite daughter. he saw in her the wondrous beauty of her mother blending with those graces and rare qualities of the heart which won for lady douglas the deep admiration of all classes. beauty and amiability were not the entire gifts of mary douglas. she was endowed with attainments of no ordinary stamp. though young, she displayed uncommon ability in many different branches of education; shewing some skill as a composer and musician, also a talent for composition and poetry. with simple earnestness she placed her hand lovingly upon her father's shoulder, exclaiming "papa, dear, i have come to watch you arrange those lovely flowers." "well, my dear, you are welcome to remain. i am certainly complimented by such preference. you must allow me to acknowledge it by this," saying which, the fond parent plucked a white rosebud and fastened it in the snowy lace upon the bosom of his child. "papa, dearest, one act of love certainly deserves another," exclaimed mary, as she fondly pressed the lips of sir howard, adding "remember that you are my chevalier for the remainder of the evening. when you have finished, we will rejoin the company." mary douglas seated herself in a rustic chair and chatted in gay and animated tones while her father listened with a deep interest. the well tried soldier, the gallant commander at badajos, at corunna, the hero of many fierce conflicts, and the firm friend and favourite of the duke of wellington, listened to the conversation of his daughter with as much keenness as a question involving the strongest points of diplomacy. "papa, this garden will fully repay you for your labour. i do wish that i could understand and enter into the study of plants and flowers as you do." "ah, my mary," exclaimed sir howard in a deep reverential tone, as his thoughts went back to the days of his boyhood, "i had a kind benefactress, and i may say _mother_ in my aunt helena. she created in me an early love for flowers, and i have always cherished it. often during my campaign in the peninsula, the sight of a lovely flower would call up emotions that would for the time unman me for the raging conflicts of battle. i always look upon flowers as the trophies of god's grace. mary, i trust you yet will be able to attend to the cultivation of heaven's choicest offerings, and remember, that by so doing, you only contribute a small share in the beautifying of nature." having enjoyed this strain of converse for some length of time, mary douglas rose, exclaiming, "now, papa, you are at my service." sir howard bowed, and offered his arm to his fair daughter. together they went out, being greeted by the merry party still lingering on the verandah. "explain, mary," said the foremost of the party, "this breach of confidence and utter contempt of the necessities of your friends. we have been vainly waiting your appearance to join us in a walk, and now it is nearly time to dress for dinner." "very prettily said, lady rosamond," replied sir howard, "but as i wear my lady's favour, you will grant me a hearing on her behalf." pointing to the spray of mignonnette and forget-me-not which mary douglas had placed on his coat, he continued, "i hope that your company has employed the moments as profitably. we commenced with vows of love and constancy, then followed topics of general conversation, and ended on the study of flowers. with this explanation perhaps some of this goodly company might favor us with a like result." "i venture to say, your excellency, that in the present instance, we might too clearly prove the old saying as regards comparisons," returned lieut. trevelyan, "and would therefore enjoin silence." "ah, no, mr. trevelyan," said miss douglas, "we will not allow our claim to be set aside in this manner. we must muster courage in our own self-defence as an offset to your acquiescence, or else papa will wear his laurels very lightly." "in the first instance," said she, "we were admiring the beautiful sunset, the soft outline of the hills, and the beauty of the landscape. is that not worthy of describing, papa?" the eldest daughter of this distinguished family made this appeal with a face beaming with the enthusiasm of her deep appreciative nature. anne douglas possessed not the great beauty of her sister mary, yet was a lovely and loveable woman, capable of inspiring deep regard. sir howard acknowledged by saying, that if she continued, the comparison would turn the weight on the other side. "not yet, papa dear," said miss douglas, "you must hear further. we were speaking freely of our warm reception from the citizens, of the social resources of fredericton, its commercial interests; and before you joined us, were planning to ask your assistance, by giving your views and opinion of fredericton in its general aspect, as presented on your arrival." "mr. trevelyan," ventured sir howard, "i am sorry to acknowledge that the ladies have sufficient cause to charge you with desertion of your colours; but the end may not justify the means." "ah, papa, your inference is indirect--you will not surely justify mr. trevelyan." "in the present state of affairs," exclaimed sir howard, in playful military tone, "the enemy is preparing for action. the only chance of success is thus--retreat under cover of fire, or fall back on the strength of defence." "your excellency has a stronghold in the enemy's quarter," joined in lady rosamond, who had been seated at the side of captain charles douglas, their eldest son. "before testing the strength of our forces let there be a short truce, on condition that his excellency will give us the desired information this evening," said mr. trevelyan, playfully endeavouring to conciliate miss douglas. at this moment lady douglas formed an attractive feature to the group. her graceful form, dignity of gesture and gentle expression was a subject of admiration. her winning smile was greeted by recognitions of deep and respectful courtesy on the part of the gentlemen. "my lady, fortune has at last condescended to favour me by your appearance among us," said mr. trevelyan, rising and advancing towards her ladyship, while a blush suffused his handsome face, hastily making its way with deepening colour, showing the clear and open hearted spirit of the young lieutenant. "we now have hopes of a speedy restoration." mr. trevelyan then related the foregoing sallies to the fair arbitress, who listened with keen relish and enjoyment. "as i have arrived at this unfavourable moment," said her ladyship, "i will try to end the matter satisfactorily to all parties. his excellency being one of the chief actors, shall forfeit his liberty by devoting an hour in satisfying the present demands of the company. mr. trevelyan also, will only extricate himself from his present position by giving one of his many excellent renditions from shakespeare or any of the favorite authors. do you not all agree to this decision?" as lady douglas glanced towards her daughter mary, she read in those beautiful eyes a mischievous flash directed towards miss douglas. "if i judge aright there is yet another to be brought to hasty retribution," said the former. "pardon me, but i think your ladyship is rather severe," said the youthful lieutenant with a boyish flush of youth upon his brow. "i beg that the penalty imposed upon miss douglas may be something which rests upon her direct choice." "treason within the camp," exclaimed captain douglas, in his military tone. "trevelyan, beware, you are being caught in a pitfall." lady douglas smiled as she turned to miss douglas, saying "mr. trevelyan's request shall be granted, you can choose your own task of imposition, music, reading, or any other pastime." "the matter is settled, thanks to her ladyship," exclaimed sir howard, "and i beg leave to withdraw to mature my views for the coming lengthy topic of this evening." the hour being announced warned the ladies to prepare for dinner, the group separated leaving the verandah to the romps of two favorite hounds, a spaniel, and a pair of tame rabbits. while preparations are thus going on in the different apartments of government house, a carriage arrives with its occupant, mr. howe, private secretary to sir howard. the carriage, a handsome one, is driven by a span of full-blooded arabian horses; magnificent specimens of their species; proudly sits their owner in his costly equipage. as a man of wealth, high family, mr. howe occupied a prominent position in the household of the douglas family. his coming is awaited with eagerness. captain douglas, his friend and companion, is at his side in a moment addressing him with hearty familiarity, "howe, you are late. has business been pressing? takes some time to get reconciled to the hum drum of life in new brunswick! well, old fellow, send around the horses and we will yet have time for a cigar before dinner. strange, i enjoy one better before than after. you know i am an odd bird in every sense. was odd last evening at mess when we got the rubber." "douglas, one thing is confoundedly odd." "how did the natives of new brunswick ever impose upon the british government to send a governor and a private secretary," interrupted charles douglas. "ha, ha, ha," laughed the latter, with repeated and renewed attacks. "howe, you have been baulked in some design to-day; perhaps the fair one smiled on another, or odder still, some rival is ready to exchange a few kindly shots." "oh, douglas, for heaven's sake stop and save your breath for more interesting topics," exclaimed the latter. the secretary lit a cigar and sat down to glance over the contents of a letter. muttering some irreverent expressions upon the writer. "howe, you 'see through a glass darkly,'" yelled captain douglas, "to-morrow you will see face to face major mcnair and the sports of h.m. nd. it will be mightily odd if you do not give them a brush. count upon me, too, as i intend to show in earnest what stuff prince is made of." "one thing you show," said mr. howe, with a strange grin--"a desire to turn parson or priest. i might make a few suppositions without interruption. perhaps you have been initiating yourself in the good graces of a rev. clergyman, by a few such quotations. perhaps the church might take better in new brunswick than the army. douglas, with all your perhapses, you are a cunning diplomatist." "you certainly do me credit, howe," said his friend; "i possess enough cunning to perceive that you are not in your native element this september nd, ." the private secretary of his excellency, sir howard douglas, was a man of no ordinary stamp. he had ability and coolness; the last named quality had gained him much favour from the veteran commander, and a desire to retain his service. tall, slight and athletic, mr. howe was foremost in all feats of physical sports. horse racing was his greatest mania. few could manage a horse as he, and fewer still could own one faster than his favourite mare, bess. quickly he rose to his feet with "jove, douglas, i feel angry with myself and everybody." "then keep your distance, i beseech you," returned captain douglas, in his usual jolly manner. "listen for a moment and hear my scrape," said howe. "down in the mess this afternoon we got talking,"--"horse, of course," said the captain--"yes, horse," said the former, "and got mixed up into one of the greatest skirmishes ever heard of. captain markham swore and raged like a wild beast captain hawley bit his lips with anger, and when i tried to conciliate matters, they turned on me like a set of vipers. in fact, with two or three exceptions, they hung together and irated me in good round english, forward and backward with little regard to johnson or any of the time-honoured lexicographers. it was a hot encounter. in spite of anger, i cannot help laughing, to think how they abused each other, and, in turn, united themselves into a general force, directing the fire of their battery upon me. by st. george of england, it was too much. of course this is only the beginning of a series of such demonstrations." "all's well that ends well," returned captain douglas, "a night's sleep will restore all to a former footing. major mcnair would frown upon any breach thus made." chapter ii. amid the household the spacious dining hall of government house now assumed an aspect of studied splendour. the tables groaned under the weight of tempting and delicious dishes. the culinary intricacies of sir howard's table were often under comment. viands of all kinds stood on every side, while the brilliant scintillations from chandeliers--massive silver and sparkling glasses--were of wondrous radiance. sir howard, preceded by mr. howe and lady douglas, led his beautiful daughter to a seat at his side. captain charles douglas was the escort of miss cheenick, the family governess, and companion of miss douglas. the remaining part of the company took their places in like order, thus completing the usual dinner party. none but those who have passed much time in the company of sir howard douglas, and enjoyed his many gay and social dinners and parties, can form any just conception of the true worth and genuine goodness of this fine specimen of an english gentleman. the flashes of wit and graceful repartees, mingled with sound judgment and truthful dignity, characterized the nature of the gallant sir howard. he was ever on the alert to minister to the wants of others. no one was neglected within his knowledge or recollection. from his daughter beside him to every guest around this festive board, none were allowed to go forth without coming directly under his recognition. the stern realities of military life through which he had passed, had in nowise interfered with those social qualities which so endeared our hero to the hearts of all. in lady douglas, sir howard found a faithful helpmate, a loving wife and deeply affectionate and pious mother. lady douglas never wearied in watching and caring for the welfare of her children. no mother could be more amply rewarded in seeing her family grow up loved and honoured; her sons true types of gentlemanly honour; her daughters having all those graces which are desirable to beautify the female characters, and make woman an ornament in her family and in society. "mr. howe," exclaimed sir howard, glancing towards that personage, "you escaped a severe ordeal by being tardy this afternoon. you have proved that every rule has an exception, but i must be careful not to introduce any comparisons;" thus saying, his excellency directed his smile towards mr. trevelyan. seated beside miss douglas, the young lieutenant once more heightening the effect of his handsome dark eyes by the deepening colour of his cheeks. "come, come, mr. trevelyan, reveal what is hidden behind his excellency's smile." "pardon me, mr. howe," said lady douglas, "i am pledged to relieve mr. trevelyan of any further parley. a truce was effected until the compromise is paid this evening in the drawing room." "i thank your ladyship," said the lieutenant, bowing. "then, your excellency, that theory falls to the ground at present," said mr. howe, "i am not classified as an exception." the secretary smiled as he thought of the cause of his tardiness, and the sport his revelation would make for the gentlemen, when the ladies had withdrawn. "my lady rosamond is rather demure," said sir howard, smiling upon that young lady with his truthful smile. "really your excellency cannot forget that i have been studiously trying to avoid any pitfalls." "ah, you cunning rogue, you are amusing yourself with the shortcomings of the party," returned sir howard, "this is unjust. we will demand some concessions from those members who have been drawing largely upon the resources of others." turning to lady douglas, he added, "your ladyship will please bear that fact in mind, or rather make a note of it. lady rosamond seymour and mr. james douglas will make amende honourable for past delinquencies, not forgetting mr. howe. will add that the last clause be conditional." a general flow of conversation follows as the dinner progressed. harmony prevailed throughout while humour and wit were salient points in many topics. the most remarkable feature, perhaps, was the absence of anything that could not be received by the most fastidious. all practical jokes or questionable remarks were discountenanced by the family of sir howard douglas. one of the members laying claim to your attention is the lady rosamond seymour, a distant cousin to lady douglas, descended from that distinguished family of seymours so conspicuous in the tudor period. lady rosamond was a character of rare distinction. her father, sir thomas seymour, an english admiral, a man brave, honourable, respected and admired. he had married lady maria bereford, the daughter of an english baronet, who, dying at an early date, left two sons and one daughter--the lady rosamond. placed under the care of a maiden aunt, the young lady had the benefit of learned instructions. sir thomas was determined that his child should receive all possible pains in her education. though displaying no uncommon ability, lady rosamond was studious and persevering, compensating for genius by never failing application. she made considerable progress in classics, literature and poetry. in mathematics she was deficient. "i will do my best," she would often say to her tutor, "but you know i never was expected to be a mathematician." lady rosamond was indeed beautiful. the perfect features of her oval shaped face were lit by sparkling black eyes, full, large and dreamy, sometimes bewildering one with their variety of expression. while residing with her aunt, lady rosamond had formed an intimacy with mary douglas, which increased as they grew older. together they spent many happy hours, and never wearied in their bright day dreams thus woven together. nothing could exceed the grief of those companions when it was announced that the family of sir howard douglas was soon to depart for new brunswick. lady rosamond was inconsolable, and after urgent entreaties on the part of lady douglas, sir thomas seymour consented to allow his daughter to remain with them for two years, after which she would for a time assume the duties and responsibilities of his household. hence, lady rosamond seymour came to new brunswick with the family of sir howard douglas, and thus we find her the friend of mary douglas in fredericton. in after chapters will be found the reason for thus introducing lady rosamond. to return to the preceding narrative. after the ladies withdrew the gentlemen remained to discuss over their cigars and wine. mr. howe began by repeating the affair among the messmates of the nd, and the result of his friendly interference. the warmth of his passion was aroused and he vehemently exclaimed, "trevelyan, i both regard and respect you as a gentleman and friend, and feel regret that you were so unfortunate as to become attached to one of the most dissolute and dissipated of his majesty's regiments." the secretary was about to proceed when he was interrupted by captain douglas. "strong terms, howe. your case would in some instances demand redress but i repeatedly avow not if considered in the light of reason." mr. howe saw in the strange light of sir howard's eye that his excellency would now give, in a few words, his decision with unerring judgment. "gentlemen," said he, rising from his seat and casting successive glances at all, "mr. howe seems to feel that the treatment received this afternoon should justify his seeking redress from those military gentlemen. would any here think it necessary to create a breach between the regiment and ourselves, from the fact of their having, while under the influence of liquor, shewed an incapacity to treat a guest with becoming respect, being utterly indifferent to every feeling save that engendered by abuse of appetite? do i state it aright mr. howe?" "your excellency is right," said the secretary, "sometimes i see the foolishness of being hot-tempered, but never more than on this occasion." "we can afford to laugh at the matter now, howe," said captain douglas, "to-morrow you will heap coals on their heads with a vengeance." the company enjoyed a hearty laugh, in which his excellency joined. "you may have cause to bless your stars that you were absent, trevelyan," said mr. douglas, "as you might have been pressed into service against howe." guy trevelyan was indeed a young man of marked ability and much promise. his father, colonel trevelyan, was a brother officer with sir howard during the peninsula campaign. for signal service he was rewarded by knighthood and the rank of lieutenant-colonel. having obtained for his son, guy, a commission in h. m. nd regiment, lieutenant-colonel trevelyan hailed with delight the tidings of his friend's appointment to the governorship of new brunswick. the regiment was then stationed in fredericton and st. john--headquarters at the former--with major mcnair in command, while the companies stationed at st. john were in charge of sir thomas tilden. in his excellency, guy trevelyan had a warm-hearted friend. the son of colonel trevelyan was dear to him. many times sir howard looked upon his handsome boyish face, pleased with tracing the strong resemblance between father and son. the open, generous and manly disposition of the young lieutenant shone in every lineament of his countenance. guy trevelyan was loved by every member of the douglas family. lady douglas showed him daily marks of favour, making him at ease in the bosom of her household. nor did our young officer abuse these acts of true kindness and personal privilege. unassuming, gentle and affable guy trevelyan was more eagerly sought than seeking. sir howard admired his favorite, his diffidence and bashful coyness. "he is one to make a mark," said he. "give me the disposition of guy in preference to those aping and patronizing airs assumed by the majority of young gentlemen on entering the army." once, on addressing lieutenant-colonel trevelyan, he wrote the following: "have no fear for guy; he is a true scion of the old stock. his nature is truthful, honourable and sincere, not being addicted to those vices which ruin our bravest soldiers. he has endeared himself to our family, in fact, lady douglas would lament his absence almost the same as one of her own sons." having made this digression, thus introducing the principal members of the company, we will now ask the reader to follow the ladies into the drawing room. government house drawing room was indeed an apartment of costly elegance. richly covered and gilded furniture was arranged in stately profusion. quaintly and gorgeously embroidered silken draperies were festooned with graceful effect. rare paintings adorned the frescoed walls. priceless cabinets, vases and statuary were grouped with artistic hand. turkey carpets of the most brilliant hues covered the floor, while the flashing and almost dazzling light radiating from the massive chandeliers, made the scene one of surpassing grandeur--something almost incredible outside the lustre and surroundings of a kingly residence. such is a correct picture of old government house over half a century ago. then it shone with true chivalric glory. now with its structure and surroundings a dream of the past. in the midst of her group sat lady douglas occupied in some fancy netting, while each lady had some especial task. "miss cheenick," said her ladyship, "will you be so kind as to assist miss mary in the selection of suitable shades of silk for this piece of embroidery. you will accompany her to-morrow after luncheon, as she is anxious to commence." "it is to be hoped that we will meet with success as, judging from the appearance of the stores in this city, there is not much to select from," said mary douglas, "but, miss cheenick, only think, it will be our first attempt at shopping in fredericton." "how much better and more convenient if there were exclusive dry goods stores as in england," said lady rosamond. "it is rather amusing to see all kinds of groceries and provisions on one side, and silks, satins and laces on the other. pardon me, mamma, if i use the expression of mr. howe, 'everything from a needle to an anchor.'" "well, my child, you will agree that both are useful," said her ladyship, "but i am doubtful whether the last named article is to be obtained here." at the close of these remarks, the gentlemen were received. sir howard, true to his obligation, had found a seat beside his daughter mary. "papa," she exclaimed, "my knight is true,--'a good knight and true.'" "at lady douglas' suggestion, i am duly bound to disclose some views upon new brunswick and its capital. in the first place, i must plead ignorance, from want of sufficient time to note the general aspect, features and surroundings. this is a primitive soil, populated and toiled by a primitive people. agriculture is yet in its infancy, and no prospect at hand for the furtherance of this important calling. well wooded land, fertile valley and pleasing variety, show that this should be the great and only resource of this country. what facilities are afforded to the farmer for the importation of produce, were this noble river to be opened up with steam navigation. in a year hence, if my life be spared, i shall be able to afford you some information on life in the back settlements, and the means resorted to by the settlers. at present there are only five roads in the whole province; three of which you have seen, as they lead from this city in different directions; the one to st. john; also, that passing our door to quebec; and the third which i shewed you last week as leading to miramichi. the fourth leads to st. andrews, a small seaport in the south-west; while the fifth leads to halifax." "pardon me, your excellency, i could not help observing that the condition of these roads pay small tribute to mcadam, or telford, being a rapid and sudden succession of up hill and down dale." "one would need a vigorous constitution," returned sir howard, "to make a practical test. people do not have much traffic upon these roads, from the fact that the settlements are more numerous along the river, which holds out more advantages." "papa," exclaimed sir howard's favourite daughter, "how much i should like to accompany you on an expedition through the forests of new brunswick." "perhaps you may, when the roads are more accessible, when there will be established comfortable inns where one can rest and be refreshed. none will press me to give any further report of the country, when i make a guarantee to do so at some time in the future, when there will be, i trust, good progress made." "many thanks, your excellency," said mr. howe, in response to sir howard, and, "in behalf of the company, may i express a hope that your wish be realized in the future of new brunswick's history. may this province yet rise in commercial prosperity and national wealth, and may new brunswick's sons yet assume their proud position as governors of the province." "mr. howe is growing eloquent," remarked lady rosamond, to mr. trevelyan.--"a conspiracy on foot," exclaimed miss douglas, glancing towards lady rosamond. "now mr. trevelyan will play his part," said captain douglas, with mock solemnity. the young lieutenant selected a passage from "cymbeline," receiving the gratitude and applause of the ladies, to whose repeated entreaties he also read an extract from "king lear," commencing with the line "no, i will be the pattern of all patience." guy trevelyan's voice was full, soft and musical, having the power of soothing the listener; but when required for dramatic readings, could command a versatility that was surprising. miss douglas archly proposed to lady douglas her wish to join in a game of whist. thus engaged, the remainder of the evening passed quickly away. mary douglas still retaining her gallant partner, having secured the rubber against mr. howe and miss douglas, warmly congratulated sir howard on their success. "never despair, miss douglas," said mr. howe, "we bide our time." the secretary's carriage being announced, with smiles and bows he took leave, followed by mr. trevelyan, who accepted the proffered invitation. chapter iii. an evening in officers' mess-room. many of our readers are familiar with the old building still standing, facing on queen street, known as the officers' barracks. at the time when this story opened, this was a scene of continual festivity--life in its gayest aspect. here were quartered the noisy, the swaggering, the riotous, the vain, the gallant, the honourable, and all those different qualities which help to form the make-up of the many individuals comprising the officers of h. m. nd regiment. at no period, before or since, has fredericton ever risen to such notoriety. several enterprising gentlemen of this body in connexion with a few of the leading citizens planned and laid the first regular and circular race course, near where the present now is situated, under the management of j. h. reid, esq., and the members of york county agricultural society. on the old race course it was no unusual occurrence to witness as many as a dozen races during the space of two days. sons of gentlemen, both in military and private life, were the owners of thorough-bred horses, each claiming the highest distinctions regarding full-blooded pedigree. these were fredericton's glorious days--days of sport; days of chivalry; days of splendour and high life. on the evening in question, a festive board was spread with all the eclat attending a dinner party. some hours previous a grand assemblage had gathered on the race course to witness a race between captain douglas' mare bess, and a celebrated racer introduced on the course by lieutenant-colonel tilden, ridden by his groom. much betting had arisen on both sides. excitement ran high. bets were being doubled. the universal din and uproar was growing loud, noisy and clamorous. the band played spirited music, commencing with national airs, and, in compliment to an american officer, a guest of sir thomas tilden, finished off with hail columbia. bess won the race. his excellency, capt. douglas, in the capacity of aide-de-camp, mr. howe and mr. james douglas, with their friend, lieutenant trevelyan, stood on an eminence bordered by woods. here sir howard watched the afternoon's sport with keen interest. he saw in the assembly many features to be discountenanced. none admired a noble animal better than sir howard, and none were more humane in their treatment. captain douglas entered more into the sport of the proceedings. his whole mind for the present was centered on the expectation of his noble little animal. in gaining the race he was generous to the last degree. honor was the password in all his actions, while he gave his opponents that feeling which led them to thank him for an honorable defeat. the occasion of lt. col. tilden's arrival was always hailed with a round of festivities. this evening was the commencement, servants in livery were at every footstep. an array of butlers and waiters was conspicuous arranging the different tables. the grateful odors emitted from several passages presaged the elaborate dishes to be served. the rattle of dishes, clinking of glasses, and drawing of corks, hinted of the viands in unlimited store. while the above were conducted in the mess-room, many of the guests were as busy in their own private apartments making the necessary toilet for the reception. in the foremost tier of rooms to the left, facing the river, on the ground floor, is the one occupied by lieut. guy trevelyan. he is brushing out the waves of chestnut brown hair which, though short, shows a tendency to assert its nature despite the stern orders of military rule. a shade passes over the brow of the youthful-looking soldier as he dons his scarlet uniform. his thoughts are not at ease. guy trevelyan feels a vague and unaccountable yearning--an undefined feeling which is impossible to shake off. "well, trevelyan," soliloquized he; "you are a strange old fellow; such a state as this must not be indulged amidst the stir and hurly-burly of to-night. i believe bedlam has broken loose." no wonder that trevelyan thought so; for, at that moment, several noisy songs broke upon him--the barking of at least a score of dogs, the clatter of steps upon the pavement, and the practising of fifes and drums. such a babel--a distraction of noises and shouts of hilarious impatience were amusing in the extreme. at the appointed hour, the usual ceremonies of introduction being passed, the company were at last seated. and such a table! such an array that one would only get into difficulty by attempting to describe it. captain douglas occupied a seat to the right of lt. col. tilden and received that attention which characterizes sir thomas. mr. howe, once more on friendly footing, was assigned a seat beside the incorrigible captain hawley, whose choice epithets produced such sensitive effects upon the ears of the secretary sometime previous. major mcnair, a brusque, genial, stout-hearted soldier, always ready to do the honors of the regiment under his charge, had on his right captain hawkins, an american officer; on his left an american youth and nephew of the officer. the convivial resources of these dinners were of a nature sometimes loud, boisterous, and exhilarating. though indulging in countless practical jokes, various scenes of carousal, revels, mingling with toast upon toast, cards and amusements, there was a general good feeling throughout the whole proceedings. misunderstandings sometimes led to sharp words, but the intervention of a superior had a healing effect. in nowise did lieutenant trevelyan receive so many taunts from his fellow officers as for habits of moderation. they often dubbed him "saint guy, the cold water man," which only served to amuse the young lieutenant. the attention of the american was often directed to mr. trevelyan, listening with deep interest to the history of the young man and his distinguished father. "lieutenant trevelyan is a gentleman in every sense of the term," said the major. "there is no need of that explanation, sir," said the american; "it is written in bold outline upon his handsome boyish face. his father will yet be proud of such a son." "the words of his excellency," returned the major. in the flow of general conversation that ensued many pretty speeches were made by the military and responded by several citizens, gentlemen who were frequent guests at dinner. sir thomas tilden arose, complimenting captain douglas on his success, hoping that they may meet soon on the same business. this called from the gallant and handsome captain one of his most witty and humorous speeches, after which captain hawley sang rule britannia with the entire company in a deafening chorus. after a short pause, cries of "howe! howe!" nothing short of an oration would satisfy. the secretary rose and delivered something which would take some investigation to classify either as an epic, oration, or burlesque. they wanted variety and such it was. a puzzled expression rested on lieutenant trevelyan's face as he tried to follow mr. howe in the lengthy harangue. the band afterwards played "hail columbia," which was the signal for captain hawkins to respond. the american thanked the commander and officers of h. m. nd regt. for the marked hospitality and courtesy extended to him during his stay. alluding to the feeling of dissatisfaction existing between the sister nations, he hoped to see a firmer footing established between them; and all former animosities wiped out forever. these and other like sentiments called forth loud applause, the band playing "the star spangled banner." speech followed toast and song until the hours wore on unheeded. lest it might be considered an absurdity, we will not say how many toasts were actually made--not in water, either, on this occasion. the strongest proof of this fact was found in the dozens of empty bottles lying scattered in profusion upon sideboards, tables and floors, the following morning, as servants looked on in dismay. the task of removal is no slight task. before the company breaks up let us take another glance at lieutenant trevelyan. in respect to his superiors the young gentleman still remained as one of the company. though twenty-one years had lightly passed over our young friend and favourite, one would not judge that he was more than eighteen. his smooth and beardless face had the delicate bloom of a young and pretty girl. dimples nestled in his cheeks playing hide and seek to the various emotions of the owner. guy trevelyan had not mastered his feelings during the "hurly burly," as firmly as was his wont. relapsing into an existence half reality, half dreamlike, he was striving to divine the true state of his thoughts when called upon by sir thomas tilden. "here is lieutenant trevelyan, the adonis of our regiment, whom we cannot accuse of a breach of impropriety to-night, except it be that of reserve." "come now, trevelyan, you are in for a song," exclaimed a dozen voices, pressing around the young lieutenant, in noisy appeals. contrary to their expectations, trevelyan did favor the company with a patriotic song, which drew forth stirring applause and made him the hero of the evening. "well done, my hearty," exclaimed captain hawley, slapping him on the shoulders, shouting lustily, "hurrah for trevelyan, hip, hip, hurrah for trevelyan." "eh, old chum," muttered lieutenant landon, in incoherent and rambling speech, about "faint heart and fair lady." "as congratulations are at present the rule, i cannot make an exception," said mr. howe. "thanks my boy for this, and may you soon have occasion for another." "and another," roared the crowd, taking up the last words of the secretary. "my warmest thanks, mr. trevelyan," said the lieutenant colonel, warmly pressing his young friend's hand. this last act of courtesy was more gratefully received by mr. trevelyan than the noisy demonstrations of his brother officers. soon afterwards, guest after guest departed in various moods and in various ways; some making zig-zag and circuitous routes, while others were more steady in the bent of their direction. more definite description might be given of these parties than that pictured here. more details might be given of scenes of dissipation, when each member must "drink himself under the table," to achieve the respect of his fellows; but the writer forbears not wishing to expose the darker shades of the picture, allowing the reader full control of his or her imagination, if willing to go further. suffice it to say, no brawls had marred the "jolly time." all went away in good humour, while the american was so loud in praise, that he almost wished himself an officer in h. m. nd regiment. having made his adieu, captain douglas took leave for his bachelor's quarters, held in the house on the site at present occupied by george minchin, esq., on king street, whither his friend howe had preceded him. in this building, was kept the governor's office, as well. here captain douglas found himself, as the darkest hour that precedes the dawn reminded of approaching day. "howe," said he, "sit down and have a chat for a few moments. what did you think of the affair? of cousin jonathan and his nephew?" "one question at a time, douglas," said mr. howe, pulling out a cigar case and passing one to his friend. "in answer to your first, i may say that under the circumstances there was some credit for being merry. it happened at a deuced bad time, but sir thomas took his defeat manfully, while those animated volcanoes, hawley and markham were wonderfully passive--a fact we must attribute to major mcnair. the general melee and pow-wow in which i was so unceremoniously toasted, taught a lesson. jove, the major is entitled to an order if he can, by any means, reclaim any of the nd. but the most amusing of the crowd is trevelyan, who reminds me of an englishman in paris. he is clear, too. the oftener i see him the more i find to admire. he has a stock of drollery in reserve, too. only think of the song and how received; jove, he can sing like a thrush or nightingale." "sometimes he wears a puzzled look which i cannot define; but trevelyan one day will make his mark if not led astray by some of his comrades. still, in the same youth, there is considerable backbone, plenty of determination if necessary." "hold on, howe, when are you coming to the second question," exclaimed douglas, in slightly impatient tones. "bide your time, old fellow. getting sleepy too, by saint george," said the secretary, using his favourite saint and patron as necessary expletive. "oh! about jonathan, or sam, or cousin jonathan. cousin jonathan is certainly a jolly fellow. how they did stuff him with compliments. cousin jonathan is a bigger man than when he arrived, and markham, would you not think he hailed from the 'ould country,' by the quantities of that commodity supposed to come direct from killarney, which he used upon cousin jonathan and hail columbia. ha, ha, ha." "douglas, the younger jonathan is a genuine specimen of young america. by jove, to see him at good advantage he should have been seated beside guy trevelyan--our adonis. is not the old chap mighty complimentary? think it was rather hard on the vanity of landon and grey. we must be sure give the toast to trevelyan, when they are present, to have another skirmish." "judging from your state of mind at the first, one would not deem it advisable to enter the lists a second time," said captain douglas. "bear in mind the major has too much on his hands already." "constant practice only serves to sharpen his wits," said mr. howe, with a vein of sarcasm in his tones. "it grows late, or, i should say, early," said douglas, without taking notice of the last sentence. "howe, good morning, i shall retire." "au revoir douglas." "oh, sleep! oh, gentle sleep! nature's soft nurse," murmured captain douglas, as he sought repose from the wearing and fatiguing rounds of the last evening and remaining part of the night. soon the "gentle sleep" was upon him, and, steeped in quiet forgetfulness, slept peacefully, regardless of toast, speeches and cousin jonathan. his friend in the adjoining room still puffed away at a cigar, drank another toast to cousin jonathan, soliloquizing: "by jove, i shall watch him closely. he is a clever youth, but i shall make a study of him. if he would make me his confidante i should readily assist him. douglas has not the penetration to perceive it, but i can. can any young lady be mixed up in the affair? if so, i may be at a loss to discover." in the meantime, the secretary, now thinking it time to follow douglas to gentle sleep, commenced to prepare for retiring, further soliloquizing: "that look puzzled me last night, i must make good my word." here he stopped short and was soon enjoying sound sleep, in order to feel refreshed for the duties and social demands of another day. the coming day intended to be almost a repetition of the past. morning, public parade; afternoon, on the race course; and evening in the mess-room. sir thomas tilden's arrival was always hailed with joy, being marked with grand festive honours, balls, parties and suppers. to these seasons the officers and many of the leading citizens looked forward with fond expectation. beautiful ladies met in their ball-room the gallantry and chivalry of fredericton. nothing but gaiety on every hand. such events marked the order of society in the capital of new brunswick over half a century ago. chapter iv. lady rosamond's reverie. in a small but exquisitely furnished apartment in government house sat a young and beautiful lady. the room commanded a north-west view, showing a bright and silvery sheet of rippling water. this was the private apartment of lady rosamond. it is the hour when she is occupied in writing letters and attending to the many little matters demanding her attention. an open letter lies upon her lap. lady rosamond is listlessly leaning against a dressing-table, with one hand partially shading her beautiful face. quickly turning round to look at some object beyond gives a full view, which reveals a tender sadness resting in the depths of those powerful dark eyes. lady rosamond is in a deep study--one which is not of an agreeable nature--one which she is not most likely to reveal. alternate shades of displeasure, rebellion and defiance, flit across her brow, which remain, in quiet and apparently full possession, until reluctantly driven forth by the final ascendancy of reason, at the cost of many conflicting feelings of emotion and deep despondency. again lady rosamond reads the letter very slowly, as though to find, in each word and sentence, some other meaning which might allay her present distracting thoughts. vainly did the reader search for relief. the diction was plain, clear and definite. no chance to escape. no fond smiles from hope's cheering presence. hope had fled, with agonizing gaze, as lady rosamond once more read that letter. every word was stamped upon her heart in characters of bold and maddening outline. heaving a deep sigh she folded the letter, placed it within her desk, and mechanically stood gazing upon the quiet river, peaceful and calm, save the little ripple on the surface. lady rosamond contrasted the scene with her troubled depths and superficial quiet exterior. quietly opening the window the cool sharp breeze of an october morning was grateful to the feverish flush partially visible upon the cheeks of lady rosamond. she was usually pale, save when an occasional blush asserted its right. standing here in such a state of mind lady rosamond was indeed beautiful--a lovely picture with delicate expression and coloring. while she is thus engaged let us intrude upon the privacy of her feelings by taking forth the letter from its hiding place, and examining its contents. it seems a sacrilegious act, but it is in our great sympathy and interest on behalf of lady rosamond that we yield to the temptation. the writing is in a bold, masculine hand, clear, legible, and uniform. if there be such a thing as judging the character of the writer by the chirography in the present instance, there was decision, firmness, bordering on self-will, and resistance to opposition. the letter ran thus:-- chesley manor, surrey, oct. th, . my dear child: having a few moments to spare this morning i devote them to your benefit, with a fond hope that you are as happy as the day is long. it does seem rather hard for me to be moping around this quiet house and my little girl away in new brunswick, but it is useless to repine. in a few days i will take charge of a ship to go abroad for some months. our fleet now demands my attention, which, i am happy to say, will drive away loneliness and repinings for the little runaway. was much pleased to meet an old friend of sir howard douglas--colonel fleetwood--who served in the same regiment while in spain, and is ever loud in praise of his friend. though an old soldier now, he has the true ring of military valor, which would gain the esteem of sir howard. your aunt is enjoying a visit to bereford castle; writes in good health and spirits. your cousin, gerald, is again on a political campaign, being sanguine in the prospect of being re-seated in parliament the next session. i am watching the event as one which concerns us deeply. bereford is a young man of much promise. he will indeed fill well his position as owner of bereford castle, as well as peer of the realm. lord bereford is truly proud of his heir as the noblest of this ancient and loyal family. my dearest child, it is my fondest desire that in you may be doubly united the families of seymour and bereford. gerald is the son-in-law of my choice, and it is my earnest desire that you may favor a fond parent's views in this matter. that your cousin regards you both fondly and tenderly i am truly convinced. he expressed his opinion very freely on making a visit last week, when i gave him my unbounded confidence and direct encouragement. on leaving he requested me to intimate this feeling towards you in a quiet manner, which i now do, with sufficient knowledge of your character to know that a parent's wishes will not be opposed. gerald bereford will be in a position to give you that ease and affluence your birth demands. as lady bereford, lady rosamond seymour will neither compromise rank, wealth, nor dignity, and will be happy in the love of a fond, devoted husband, and the blessing of a doting father. it is my great love for you, my child, that urges this settlement. i am certain that you will have no hesitation in giving your answer. you are young, and have as yet formed no prior attachments, for which circumstance thank heaven, and allow me to congratulate you for being so fortunate as to secure the heart and hand of gerald bereford. do not imagine that it is our wish to shorten your stay in new brunswick. you are at liberty to enjoy the companionship of your friend mary till the years have expired, after which i think that my daughter will be anxious to see her only parent, and to form high opinions of her cousin gerald. my dear, i do not wish to hurry you, already knowing your answer. wishing to be kindly remembered to sir howard and lady douglas, and the family, with my fondest love. remain, your father. such was the tenor of the epistle which had caused these feelings within the bosom of lady rosamond. sir thomas seymour was a man not to be thwarted in his designs. he loved his child with deep tenderness, and, as he said in the letter, this was the reason of his solicitude. it had always been the secret pride of the admiral's life that gerald bereford should wed lady rosamond, but he kept his favorite plans closely guarded until means were offered to aid him. many times sir thomas fancied that gerald bereford admired his lovely cousin, and had a faint hope in the realization of his wishes. when the climax was reached, by those avowals on the part of the suitor, the great joy of the solicitous parent knew no bounds. he seemed to view the matter as one which would give entire happiness to all parties. lady rosamond was to be congratulated on the brilliant prospects of her future. the bereford family were to be congratulated on their securing such an acquisition as lady rosamond, while gerald bereford was to be congratulated on having won the heart of such a pure and lovable being as his future bride. all those congratulations were in prospect before the mental vision of the admiral as he lovingly dwelt upon the matter. from the effect thus produced upon lady rosamond it was certain she viewed the matter in a different light. true, she had never, by thought or action, been betrayed to show the least possible regard or preference towards any of the many gallants from whom she oftentimes received many flattering attentions. towards her cousin gerald she had always been considerate and friendly. when on several occasions he had taken particular pains to gratify her slightest wish, and pay more deferential regard than was necessary to the demands of their relationship, lady rosamond affected utter ignorance of the cause by treating him with a familiarity that gave him no opportunity to urge his suit. when sir thomas gave consent to his daughter's reception in the family of sir howard douglas, it was in the firm belief that on her return her mind would be matured to enter more fully upon plans relative to her settlement in life. at the death of sir thomas the lands and estate of chesley manor would be inherited by frederick seymour, the eldest son; a smaller estate, bordering upon that of lord bereford, affording a moderate income, went to the second son geoffrey, while an annuity of four thousand pounds had been settled upon lady rosamond, with a marriage jointure of fifty thousand pounds, to be placed in the hands of the trustees. by the marriage of gerald bereford and lady rosamond, the latter would secure an inheritance of which she was next direct heir, being the niece of the present lord incumbent. lady rosamond weighed all these arguments and tried to find by some means a possibility of escape, but all lay in the dark and dim distance, exacting heavy payment from her ladyship. this was a heavy blow to a person of lady rosamond's sensitive nature. the thought was revolting to her. for some time previous a dim foreboding haunted her--a presentiment of gloom and of deep sorrow. on receiving the letter its weight seemed to lie heavily upon her. now the contents again caused her much pain. to whom could she go for comfort? to whom unburden her mind? leaning her head upon the table lady rosamond sought refuge in tears. she sobbed bitterly. "it is at this trying moment i miss my dear mother," murmured the poor girl in faltering accents of outspoken grief. "heaven pity those who have no mother. with her loving and tender heart my mother never would have allowed the sanctity of my feelings to be thus invaded and trampled upon. and my dear father, i love him, but can i fulfil his wishes? it is my duty! oh, heaven direct me!" poor lady rosamond! her sorrow was indeed deep. in the midst of such murmurs she arose, walked to the window, and once more fanned her cheeks with the cooling breath of heaven, which afforded momentary relief. as the large plate mirror opposite reflected the tear stains upon her pale but lovely face, lady rosamond resolved to banish all traces of sorrow. returning from the adjoining dressing-room not a shade clouded the features of the suffering girl. the silken ringlets of her raven black hair were rearranged with bewildering profusion, while the feverish blush added to her surpassing charms. a faint smile passed over lady rosamond's features as she tried to appear gay and assumed those girlish charms which made friends on every side, from sir howard to the youngest member in the household. "oh, dear, what shall i do?" escaped the lips of the sufferer. "what will bring this matter to an end?" but pride would not allow lady rosamond to reveal her feelings. she would be a true seymour. it were well that she possessed this spirit, being in this instance an offset to injured delicacy. having remained in privacy longer than it was customary, she reluctantly prepared to meet the family. descending the upper stairway, she was met by one of the children who had come to summon her to join them in a walk. lady rosamond was always a favorite with children and the family of sir howard formed no exception. they loved to accompany her on long walks in search of any thing the surrounding woods afforded. scarce two months had passed since their arrival and they were familiar with all the cosy retreats, nooks and pretty spots to be found. surrounded by her followers, lady rosamond appeared as a naiad holding revel with her sylvan subjects. in her present mood the woods seemed to suggest calm. with her companion, mary douglas, and the romping children, lady rosamond was seemingly happy. a slight accident occurred which somewhat disturbed the enjoyment of all, more especially those whom it most concerned. in crossing a narrow brook by means of a small plank which, being rotten, gave way, lady rosamond was thrown into the water with no regard to ceremony. a loud scream from helen douglas, who was standing near, brought the whole company, while terrified shrieks arose on all sides. in an instant master johnnie douglas appeared in sight followed by lieut. trevelyan. the mischievous disposition of the former could not prevent an outburst of laughter despite all his high notions of gallantry. the young lieutenant came boldly forward, seized the hand of lady rosamond, and led her to a seat at a short distance. the dripping garments clinging to the form of the frightened girl moved the young soldier with pity and showed the tender nature of his manly heart. the heartless johnnie was dispatched for dry wraps and more comfortable clothing. lieutenant trevelyan could not force a smile. the same puzzled expression which had baffled mr. howe forced itself upon him. mary douglas had wrapped her companion's feet in the shawl taken off her own shoulders, and sat anxiously awaiting their courier. the children were more demonstrative in showing their grief. during the moments that passed the minds of the elder members of the group were busily engaged. lady rosamond, regardless of her situation, was busied in projecting schemes the most fanciful. she was thinking of the contents of her father's letter. in spite of the strong efforts of will her thoughts would turn in another and far different direction, which, perhaps, on this occasion it would be more discreet to conceal. the painful and ill-disguised look was attributed to the accident. well for lady rosamond if it were so. yes, an accident, a painful accident--forgive the expression--an accident of the heart. poor lady rosamond! ah, mr. trevelyan, we have an undue curiosity to follow the turn of _your_ thoughts; but, as we once more note that puzzled look, think your generous heart and honest nature deserve more _generous_ treatment. at least, this time, we grant you further respite. johnnie's arrival prevents further moralizing. no room for gravity when johnnie douglas is near. his mischievous spirit is infectious. chapter v. christmas festivities, etc. the months pass quickly away. october, with its brilliant trophies of the wood, has departed, leaving behind many pleasing memories of its presence. november, in its raw and surly mood, is allowed to take farewell without any expression of regret. the last of this numerous family--december--is greeted with a hearty reception from every member of the douglas family. the purity of the soft snow flakes, falling in myriads, are invested with indescribable charms. the clear, cold, and frosty atmosphere is exhilarating to the bright, fresh countenances of the youthful party sliding on the ponds and brooks. the river affords amusement for skaters. the jingle of the bells is music sweet and gratifying as the horses prance along with a keen sense of the pleasure they afford to the beautiful ladies encased in costly furs and wrapped in inviting buffalo robes. a happy season is in prospective. christmas is approaching with its time-honored customs and endearing associations. high and low, rich and poor, have the same fond anticipations. in the lowly cot, surrounded by miles of wilderness, little faces brighten as quickly at mention of christmas as those who are reared in the lap of luxury and expectant of fond remembrance in showers of valuable presents in endless variety. preparations were being commenced at government house on an extensive scale. lady douglas was remarkable for the labors of love in her family at this approaching season. christmas was to her a time of unalloyed happiness. "peace and good will" reigned supreme. every minute was spent in promoting happiness by devotion, recreation or charity. the last was one of her most pleasing enjoyments, for which lady douglas received many blessings. from her childhood this noble lady had exercised her leisure moments in relieving the wants of the poor, often leaving to them food and clothing with her own hands. at the suggestion of miss douglas, who was always ready for any important duty, a party was proposed to visit the woods to procure boughs for greening the grand hall and drawing-room. foremost was johnnie douglas, master of ceremonies, whose presence on the occasion was indispensable; so said johnnie, throwing a mischievous glance at lady rosamond as a reminder of his services on a former expedition. the rising color on his victim's face brought a reprimand from mary douglas. "don't be of such importance, johnnie, there are plenty of gentlemen at our command." "ha, ha, ha," roared the young gentleman in undisguised and unsuppressed fits of laughter. "miss mary, don't be of too much importance; there may not be so many gentlemen at your command as you reckon on," said johnnie, bent on following up his argument; "mr. howe is engaged, mr. trevelyan goes on parade this morning, charles is away; now where are the reserves? answer--fred, and your humble servant." "well, johnnie, you are holding your ground manfully," exclaimed sir howard, smiling as he passed through the group in the lower hall, where they still sat discussing the grounds of johnnie's superiority. decision turning in favor of the champion, the party set off--boys, ladies, and children--forming a pretty sight. lady douglas stood on the balcony waving approval and beaming with happy smiles. the shouts of master johnnie, laughter of the ladies, and romping of the children, kept the woods busy in the constant repetition of echoes on every side. "oh, lady rosamond," cried the hero of the expedition, eager to maintain his position, "here is the brook, but where is the water to receive some one with another cooling reception, and where is mr. trevelyan with his gallant service and kind sympathy?--not hinting of the hasty retreat of your valuable pioneer!" mary douglas, detecting a shade passing over lady rosamond's brow, came to the rescue with another mild reprimand upon the incorrigible johnnie. "i am afraid, sir, that you take the opportunity of reminding lady rosamond of your former importance without due regard to her feelings, which, you are aware, is not very gentlemanly." "if your ladyship is offended," said the mischievous but generous and manly johnnie, turning to lady rosamond, "i beg your pardon in the most humble manner, feeling deeply sorry." "lady rosamond you really do not think i would consciously give you annoyance," said master johnnie, throwing down the bough which he had lopped from a tree near, and drawing up his boyish form with true dignity and an amusing earnestness in his tone. "of course not, johnnie," returned her ladyship, "you and i are on the best of terms. nothing that you say or do gives me any annoyance; on the contrary, it always amuses me." this last speech of lady rosamond had surprised mary douglas. apparently engaged in selecting the most suitable branches of fir and spruce, she was more intently occupied in the study of her own thoughts. she was wondering why the mention of the brook adventure had caused that look which, notwithstanding protests to the contrary, recalled something disagreeable to lady rosamond. being interrupted in these thoughts by her brother fred's arrival with a request to go home, mary douglas joined the merry party, each bearing some burden as part of the spoil, while johnnie collected and piled a large heap to be conveyed thither when necessary. on arriving in the courtyard, johnnie set up three lusty cheers which brought out lady douglas, accompanied by mr. howe and lieutenant trevelyan. "thought you were on parade this morning, mr. trevelyan," exclaimed the pioneer johnnie, "else you might have formed another of our party." "the ladies might not have accepted your decision," returned mr. trevelyan, hastily; "however, i thank you kindly for your consideration." after the ladies had returned from making the change of toilet necessary upon the tour of the woods, luncheon was served. mr. howe and mr. trevelyan remained. johnnie was full of adventure, but made no allusion to the brook. lady rosamond was calm, possessed, and entertaining. everybody seemed inspired with the occasion. sir howard was deeply immersed in the furtherance of those measures and means to be resorted to for the benefit and advancement of the province. "i have promised," said he, "to be able to give clearer views upon the improvement of new brunswick a year hence, and, in order to do so, must not neglect one moment. another object which claims my notice very urgently is the establishment of laws regulating a better system of education. the grammar school is in a state of mediocrity, its support not being secured on a proper basis. we want a college--an institution where our young men can receive a thorough education and be fitted for entering upon any profession." in every measure advocated by sir howard he had the full concurrence of lady douglas and her intelligent and highly educated sons and daughters. perhaps to this cause may be attributed the amazing success which marked sir howard's career through life. he had the entire and heartfelt sympathy of his household. he was loved with the truest and fondest affection as a husband and father. he, in return, placed every confidence in his lovely and amiable wife and daughters, knowing that through them he received great happiness; and, unfettered with those domestic trials which attend some families, he was able to discharge the duties of state with full and determined energy. the hours that elapsed between luncheon and dinner were spent in the various styles of decoration suggested by lady douglas. the important johnnie was under the direct supervision of miss cheenick, cutting off and preparing little twigs for garlands, with occasional sallies of good natured badinage. miss douglas was making illuminated mottoes and texts in a quiet corner of the apartment. mary douglas and her companion were busily weaving pretty and graceful festooning. to each member was allotted some especial part. every one participated in the preparation by noting each successive step towards completion. thus the work progressed until it was time for the ladies to dress for dinner; after which the evening was spent in the same occupation, with the valuable assistance of mr. howe and captain douglas. after several days had elapsed, the work was considered complete. the design was choice and beautiful. nothing was necessary to produce a more graceful and pleasing effect. holly there was none, but our woods supplied the loss with lovely evergreens of native growth. it was the day preceding christmas eve. mirth and joy revelled around the glowing firesides. happy faces beamed with radiating smiles. each was trying to do some small act of kindness for the benefit of the household. a christmas tree, in all its mysterious surroundings, was being laden with beautiful presents. loving tokens of friendship were placed on its strong branches by lovely and delicate hands. lady douglas presided over these mysteries, in the secret chamber, with the vigilance of the dragon who guarded the golden apples in the classic shades of the hesperides. all busy little feet were turned towards the door, but further entrance was barred by gentle admonition from her ladyship. lady rosamond had been allowed the privacy of her own apartments without interruption. she was preparing some tokens of regard for different members of the family. many chaste and valuable articles had been received from home for this purpose, but she wished to make some choice trinkets as her own work. many times she had stolen a half-hour to devote to this labor of love. an elegant silk purse had been netted for lady douglas. for mary douglas she is engaged on a prettily-designed portfolio. none were forgotten, not even sir howard, who was the recipient of a neat dressing-case. as lady rosamond's deft fingers wrought upon each article her mind was busy upon a far different, and, to her, important matter. she longed for sympathy and advice. her father gave himself little concern regarding her ambiguously-written message. he saw that his daughter was somewhat cold and indifferent to her cousin's preference, but he expected that, on her return, she would readily agree to anything which met his approval. not wishing to repeat the sentiment of the letter thus described, sir thomas seymour had considered moderation as the surest hope of success. having thus expressed his opinion to lady bereford, the admiral was assured and confident. on this christmas season he had selected a costly locket, studded with diamonds, as a gift to lady rosamond, and dwelt, with loving pride, upon the many gentle qualities of the lovely girl; her happy prospects as lady bereford, adored by a fond husband, beloved by all. happy lady rosamond! in thy busy thoughts. dared we venture for thee an encouraging word, it would be "every cloud has a silver lining." christmas eve was a scene of stir and excitement. though work was done in a systematic manner, the unusual tasks of labor and love were hurrying upon each other with increasing rapidity. the servant's hall was not to be passed over at this joyous time. everyone, both family and servants, shared in the festivity. how the graceful form of mary douglas flew from room to room, arranging some pleasing surprise, planning some little act of courtesy or civility. the housekeeper's room, stealthily invaded by bribing another domestic, becomes the hiding place of a handsome lace cap. each maid finds under her pillow a sovereign and some little trinket, as a ribbon, scarf or work box. these were happy moments in the life of mary douglas. in the performance of such acts of goodness she was truly happy. this lovely girl was possessed of the united virtues of sir howard and lady douglas. free from the remotest clouds of sorrow or care, mary douglas was indeed to be envied. her father's smile was of more value to his gifted daughters than the most flattering attention from the many admirers who vainly tried to receive the slightest sign of encouragement. that lady rosamond often longed for the happy and contented hours of her companion--for a like participation of uninterrupted and halcyon days, should form no ground for surprise. "how i should like to tell mary my trouble and receive her sweet counsel," murmured the sad girl. "i should feel the burden lighter to bear, but it would seem almost a sacrilege to invade upon such quiet harmony, for, with her sweet sympathizing nature, i know that mary would grieve over my sorrow. dear girl, your christmas shall not be clouded by me," soliloquized lady rosamond, "i love you too deeply to wish you care like mine. ah, no, mary darling, may you never know the depth of sorrow such as mine." lady rosamond stood before her mirror to place a tiny rosebud in the raven hair that encircled her stately head in luxuriant coils. slight and graceful in form, she saw indeed a pretty picture reflected there. it seemed to mock her with pitying gaze. her black silk dress revealed the snowy whiteness of her beautifully rounded shoulders and arms, pure as the marble mantel upon which she rested. the costly locket, with its flashing diamonds, suspended by a heavy gold chain, rested upon her bosom. she thought of her father's kindness as she placed his gift to her lips, exclaiming, "poor, dear papa, how i should like to see him to-night; i love him so fondly. if he knew what i am suffering perhaps he might relent. no doubt he is lonely to-night and wishing to see his 'only little girl,' as he lovingly calls me." presently lady rosamond was formally ushered into the apartment where the company, comprising the family and a few intimate friends, were assembled to divest the christmas tree of its gay clothing and appendages. as a veritable santa claus presented each present, the all-important johnnie was ready to exclaim: "thank old sandy for that, can't you? what a hale old chap is sandy!" turning to lieutenant trevelyan, the incorrigible ventured to ask who might be sandy's tailor? when among the presents a tiny case, lined with white velvet, revealed a jewelled cross of exquisite design, sir howard exclaimed gaily, "lady rosamond, a coincidence--the cross followed by an anchor!" producing at the same time a costly ornament in the form of an anchor. "have no fear, your cross is outweighed by the anchor hope in the end. what a beautiful encouraging omen!" chapter vi. st. john's eve. it was st. john's eve; government house was a scene of splendour; truly every precinct was a blaze of dazzling light. here was assembled the distinguished, gay, beauty, and wit of the province; the learned and severe as well as the thoughtless. hearts beat with throbbing and exciting pulsation, fired by hope's fondest dreams. the spacious drawing-room, already described in a preceding chapter, now assumed, if possible, a more brilliant aspect--flooded with light, rendered more effective by an additional chandelier, a gem of countless scintillations, distracting in variety and prismatic design. the courtly reception, high-born dignity and ease exhibited in every smile, gesture, word and action of the distinguished occupants, might recall vivid conceptions of the days when beauty and chivalry were conspicuous in homage to royalty and grand pageantry. amidst the pressure and arrival of each guest no confusion was apparent. rank took precedence with studied regard. the many guests were attired in a style and elegance becoming the occasion. conspicuous was the military rank of the large number of officers of his majesty's service--colonels, majors, captains, lieutenants, ensigns, and all those insignias of like distinction. among these might be found hidden, viscounts, lords, and baronets, and those aspiring to the proudest titles and birth of family. to describe the most imposing and costly dresses worn on this evening would be a difficult task. ladies arrayed in the most gorgeous and priceless brocade and satins ablaze with diamonds and gems, snowy silks studded with pearls, velvet robes lined with costly furs and covered with lace at a fabulous price and texture, coronets of jewels, necklaces, bracelets, and beautiful trinkets, made the suggestion to a beholder that heaven had showered down her radiation of delight by bestowing upon these jewels a reflection scarce less than that of her own upon the scene above. among the throng none were more eagerly sought than lady rosamond; her quiet and easy dignity had won the regard and esteem of all those with whom she mingled. unassuming and retiring, lady rosamond had excited no jealousy on the part of her less favored female friends. on her they all united in bestowing kind and sisterly regard. to gratify curiosity, and show our beautiful young friend as she appeared in the drawing-room, leaning on the arm of captain douglas, i will try describe her as nearly as possible:--a white satin robe with court train, bordered with the purest lace, festooned with pearls, over a blue satin petticoat, formed a lovely costume, with bodice of white satin, showing the faultless waist of the wearer; white satin slippers, ornamented with pearls, encased the tiny feet of lady rosamond. she was, indeed, worthy the name she bore--a type of her lovely but unfortunate ancestress, who won, for a time, the fickle heart of henry eighth, and gave birth to the good and pious young edward. many smiles of recognition were bestowed upon the lady rosamond, among whom were those of the old cavaliers and statesmen, the middle-aged and the young and gay gallants of the day. if the latter showed any preference, as regards companionship, it was a strange preference for the more advanced in life. ladies in the declining stage of life were to her the greatest source of comfort. to their varied experience of life the young girl would give the entire earnest of her truthful nature. nor was this fact unnoticed. lady rosamond was the frequent partner of a revered grandfather, either at the whist table or in the quadrille, much to the secret annoyance of the young gentlemen present. mary douglas was often at the side of her girl friend. it frequently happened that they were vis-a-vis in a quadrille, when lady rosamond indulged in exchanging playful sallies of mirthful character. in appearance, manners and companionship those lovely girls might be considered as sisters. on more than one occasion had such a mistake been of concurrence, while mary douglas was recognized as lady rosamond. colonel l----, an intimate friend of sir howard, remarked to a lady beside him, "this is truly an enjoyable affair. i am doubtful if many years hence some will not look back and say that this was one of the happiest moments of their life." in the midst of this speech a gay and dashing young officer stepped forward, accosting a superior in command in a brotherly and familiar way, shewing behind a tie of relationship. aside, in quiet tones, the younger exclaimed, "cousin charles, will you introduce me to the lady in crimson velvet and white satin, with tiara of diamonds?" "certainly, montague, whenever you wish. do you not think her beautiful?" "yes," was the reply, "but not in effect with lady rosamond or miss mary. does not that lovely costume set off her ladyship's charms. how faultless her form! it is a hard matter to decide between the beauty of those companions." this last remark caused a blush to suffuse the brow of a handsome youth standing within hearing. suddenly turning away, and musing as he went, lieutenant trevelyan was half angry at himself for some slight betrayal of feeling which fortunately had not been detected. as lady douglas was sitting in a corner, whither some of her guests had retired to rest from the fatigue of the evening, a lady near ventured to exclaim, "what a noble looking young man is lieutenant trevelyan! he has such a frank and honest face; besides, he is so kind and considerate. having heard so many kind allusions towards him from so many sources, i have a great interest in his welfare. it is said that his father won distinction in the army." "yes," returned lady douglas, "i can remember his father when he really appeared not much older and wore the same blushing countenance as our dear friend guy." "ah, there he is," exclaimed one of the eager admirers. at this moment the subject of their remarks led forth lady rosamond as his partner in the dance. "what a charming couple," said one. "how striking the contrast of their dress," said another, as the bright scarlet of lieutenant trevelyan's uniform reflected on the pure white satin of lady rosamond's bodice, while the blue satin added a pretty effect. "how happy he looks as he smiles upon his partner," said one of the group. "who could be unhappy in the presence of lady rosamond?" replied lady douglas. "pardon, your ladyship, but there are many here who feel the hidden pain caused by one look or smile from her ladyship's lovely face." the speaker here lowered her voice, continuing: "i cannot explain or account for the feeling which prompts me, but i really think that lieutenant trevelyan is under the influence of those beautiful eyes, and really it would be the fondest of my dreams realized, having in both seen much to admire." "mrs. b----," said lady douglas, in playful tones of reproof. "you really would be tempted to become a match-maker?" "yes," replied the other, "if by any means i could further the present scheme." "lady rosamond is indeed amiable and loveable, and worthy of a true and noble husband, while lieutenant trevelyan is in every sense a gentleman worthy the fairest and best. it would grieve me to see him rejected, yet, lady rosamond is not in a position to favor any suitor until she returns to england." while the preceding remarks were being made by the group in the corner, the totally unconscious pair were apparently enjoying the music and dancing. lady rosamond seemed in a sweet and uninterrupted dream of happiness, as she floated along in the mazes of the waltz, supported by the strong and graceful arms of her admirable partner, the young lieutenant. he likewise had his dreams, but of a different nature. he could not calmly enjoy the present in firm defiance of the future. a hopeless uncertainty lay before, which forbade approach. lady rosamond's reserve was a subject he dare not analyze. but the frankness which won him friends and passport had come to his relief just at the moment when his partner was most likely to chide with friendly courtesy. both could look back to this evening during the course of after years. when various amusements had succeeded, interspersed with dancing, the climax was yet to be reached. a grand surprise awaited. a tableaux was in preparation. when the drawing-room was partially darkened the curtain rose, showing a simple background, with two children of the family sleeping quietly in the foreground. standing over them was helen douglas; her hair fell over her shoulders. she wore a black dress, while a black lace veil, spangled with gold stars, covered her from head to foot. with her arms extended she is in the act of covering the sleeping children. a band of black, with silver crescent, on her forehead, and stars on the band, added to the beauty of the lovely helen, and formed a true conception of the subject. "ah, the rogues," exclaimed sir howard; "how quietly they stole upon us." few failed to detect the word, showing a deep appreciation of the grace of helen douglas. the second scene represented a parlor with a young girl in the foreground, having on her head an old-fashioned hood. this character is assumed by arabella farnham, the daughter of an officer retired from the service. near the young lady stands a gentleman in the act of pulling off the hood to see her face. on the opposite side is another young girl in the person of mary douglas, in full evening dress, pointing to the hood, and laughing at its old and peculiar shape. much applause greeted the actors upon the success of these parts, but the crowning scene was the third and last--the united terms of the preceding ones. the effect was grand beyond description. the scene was supposed to be the great hall of kenilworth, hung with silken tapestry, lit with numerous torches. the odor of choicest perfumes fell upon the senses, while soft strains of music floated in the distance. in the centre of the background forming this magnificent apartment was a chair of state, with canopy in imitation of a throne, and covered with rich drapery, on which is seated one personating queen elizabeth, whose smile is resting upon the courtly form of walter raleigh, upon whom she is in the act of conferring knighthood. grouped around the throne are characters representing the earls of leicester, essex, oxford, huntingdon, and a train of lords and ladies, conspicuous among whom was the duchess of rutland, the favorite maid of honor in her majesty's household. the character of elizabeth was sustained by lady rosamond, arrayed in queenly robes and blazing with jewels. "she looks every inch a queen," exclaimed one of the spectators. "the young knight's heart is in a dangerous situation," said another. "beware, sir walter," said a third; "essex and leicester are dangerous rivals, especially the latter." kneeling with courtly grace was lieutenant trevelyan in the role of sir walter raleigh. the young officer had performed his part with that graceful ease which had so won the affection of the great sovereign. a slight shudder passed through the form of lady rosamond as she remembered his sad fate. thinking the present no time for boding ill-starred events, she hastily turned her mind from the subject. as the earl of leicester, captain douglas was apparelled in white. "his shoes were of white velvet, with white silk stockings, the upper part of white velvet lined with silver; his doublet, of cloth of silver; the close jerkin, of white velvet embroidered with silver and seed pearls; his girdle was of white velvet with buckles of gold. the scabbard of his sword was of white velvet and gold; his poniard and sword belt mounted with gold. over he wore a loose robe of white satin with broad collar richly embroidered in gold. around his neck was the golden collar of the garter, and around his knee the azure garter."[ ] truly was the costume executed, and raised admiration warm and long sustained. [footnote : leicester's description taken from sir walter scott.] mr. stanley, the son of an influential citizen, personated sussex, who wore a purple velvet doublet, lined with golden cloth, and a richly embroidered jerkin of the same color with broad golden collar, black silk stockings and shoes of purple velvet. a richly ornamented girdle and gold mounted sword completed the costume, being rich and elegant and next in splendour to that of leicester. the remaining nobles were dressed in courtly apparel and becoming the scene. mary douglas was, it is needless to add, in the capacity of the favorite duchess of rutland, the friend and confidante of her majesty. the whole had a beautiful effect and gave additional eclat to the evening's series of entertainments. when lady rosamond again joined the dance, she was playfully advised to act well the policy of the character, by preserving towards the rival earls a well balanced line of judgment, and concealing any strong attachment toward the knight of the cloak, to squire lack-cloak, as raleigh was termed by the attendants at court. throughout the whole evening there was one who entered with heart and hand into the spirit of such gaiety--one foremost in the dance, foremost at the whist table, and foremost in gay and animating conversation. notwithstanding those demands, there was another subject foremost in the mind of his excellency's private secretary. mr. howe was a man of the world, gay, fascinating and striving to please. he had some faults, (and who has not?) but he had his good qualities full as well. he had a generous nature--a heart that wished well to his fellow man, and above all, his friends. since his arrival in new brunswick, mr. howe had formed a strong attachment to his "boy friend," as he often designated the young lieutenant. sir howard was pleased with the fact and showed every encouragement by allowing guy trevelyan full privilege in his household. there were on several occasions within our notice, a troubled and half defined expression on the hitherto radiant and joyous countenance of guy trevelyan. this fact had given much food for the mind of the secretary. after a scrutinizing search and untiring effort the hidden secret revealed itself in the bosom of mr. howe. he now possessed a _secret_ that gave a _secret_ pleasure by which the true nature of human sympathy could assert itself. thus musing, and overjoyed at his recent success, mr. howe being reminded of the last dance, participated in the closing festivity celebrating st. john's eve. chapter vii. the disclosure. winter had far advanced; its reign of severity and pitiless defiance was near its end. already the genial days of joyous spring were heralded by a vigorous effort of the shrubs and plants to show themselves in resistance to the tyrannizing sway of the ice-crowned monarch. an occasional note from the returning songster was welcomed as the brightest harbinger of the truly delightful season. merry voices mingled in tones of deep gratitude as they once more sallied forth to enjoy the pleasure of the woods. none were more exultant than the inmates of government house. from sir howard to the child at the feet of lady douglas, all shared alike in the pleasure of anticipation. foremost in gleeful demonstration was the pioneer johnnie, who danced and sang in the enjoyment of his native element--light and sunshine. every hour that could be laid aside for this purpose was equal to a fortune. but our young friend was no miser in this respect. every available guest must be in readiness to join the incorrigible johnnie when bent on his excursions. all stood on equal rights. youth and age were all in the same order of classification. it was a remarkable trait of johnnie's character that denials were not considered as sufficient excuse for delinquency on the part of any favored with invitations, and, in consequence, all made a point of being in readiness. a bright saturday morning had been arranged for one of those expeditions. april showers had already been the means of bringing forth flowers (if not may flowers), only to be found by the penetrating eyes of "trapper johnnie," as some of the more mischievous urchins had dared to designate their leader. when, on the auspicious moment, at the marshalling of the clan, two had dared to break the rules, so strictly laid down, surprise was momentarily visible on many faces. lady rosamond, the next in importance to johnnie, had pleaded inability to attend, with a desire to retain her friend and companion. there was something in the pleading and beautiful eyes of lady rosamond that drove vexation at a respectful distance, and welcomed, in its stead, a feeling akin to sympathy within the heart of the manly boy. true chivalric dignity asserted itself in every form when necessity demanded. her ladyship instantly received permission to remain, with a generous grace that made johnnie a true hero in the estimation of his fair suppliant. "accept this favor, sir knight, as a token of the sincerity of your lady," said lady rosamond, stepping forward with a knot of pale blue silk in her hand. with the brave gallantry of a douglas, our hero knelt at the feet of her ladyship, and, receiving the favor, in graceful recognition kissed the fair hand that placed it there. "well done, my boy!" cried sir howard, who had been watching the ceremony from an open window, whence he had heard all that passed, and the circumstances which led to it; "you have already shown that spirit which i hope will always characterize my children." after the picnickers had departed lady rosamond and mary douglas returned to the house, where they were met by lady douglas. "my child, are you ill to-day?" said her ladyship; "you are unusually pale, while your eyes have a wearied look." "i do not feel quite well this morning," returned lady rosamond, languidly. "you need rest, my dear, after the fatigue of last evening; too much gaiety does not bring a bloom to my rosamond," said her ladyship, kissing the pale cheek of the lovely girl, adding: "my dear, you must retire to your room, while i prepare a gentle sedative." lady rosamond did retire. she also received the cooling draught from the fair hand of lady douglas, whose kindness shone in administering to the wants of others. poor lady rosamond's rest could not be gained by the simple sedative. physical ailments are not the worst form of suffering that afflict humanity. lady rosamond was enduring a mental conflict that was crushing in its intensity. the more she tried to baffle its power the more forcibly did it affect her. vainly had she struggled within herself for aid, but no response. faint hope dawned in the form of appeal. she now resolved to go to her dear companion with all her trials and tale of suffering. at intervals this hope died away, but in the end gained the mastery. it was this resolve that kept lady rosamond from joining in the festive train that set off that morning. it was this resolve that detained mary douglas as well. it was this resolve that bade lady rosamond to seek the quiet of her chamber preparatory to the trying disclosure. lady douglas little divined the cause of those pale cheeks, as she ascribed them to the recent fatigue of an evening. with heavy heart lady rosamond prepared for the reception of her confidante. a most beautiful picture is presented to the imagination in those lovely girls sitting side by side the arm of mary douglas around her companion. "mary, my love," began lady rosamond, "i have often longed for this moment, but could not summon the courage which the occasion demands." "rosamond, you startle me by your earnestness," said the former with deep surprise, dropping the title, as familiar companions, at the suggestion of her ladyship. "have patience, my darling; you shall hear it only too soon." between sighs and sobs lady rosamond told the whole history of her troubles--the letter and its stern proposal--not forgetting her father's kindness and his great love for her; "but oh!" she continued, "he cannot realize the depths of my misery." "my poor darling," said mary douglas, with great tears dimming her beautiful eyes, "why did you thus suffer in silence? can it be possible that you can have passed the long winter with such a weight upon your heart, my darling rosamond?" "ah, my mary," replied her ladyship, "i hope that you may never know how much the heart can bear, or how much woman, in her uncomplaining nature, may suffer. if i could only learn 'to suffer and be strong'--in that source lies my weakness. i am only one of the many thousands of my sex who have had such struggles. i do not wish to shirk the duty imposed on me, but if more strength were given me to bear it." mary douglas sat in silence for some moments, as if waiting a sufficient reply. she knew her friend's disposition too well to venture any advice that would require a third person's knowledge of the matter. gladly would she have referred it to her father or mother, but the idea gave no relief. "rosamond, my darling, if i could afford your mind instantaneous relief i would gladly do so, if even at a very great sacrifice. of one thing rest assured--you have my service in any way that you wish to command me; besides, you have my sympathy and interest for life. it may be that i can slightly alleviate your sorrow. can i not propose some plan in the future to re-arrange those affairs which at present seemed so irrevocably fixed? kings have made laws to be broken when the cause demanded retribution. darling, be more hopeful--trust in providence and do the right--in the end you will be happy. let me read your horoscope:--dark clouds within the visible horizon, succeeded by bright stars in ascension--hope and joy without fail." a spirit of inspiration seemed to shine upon the face of mary douglas as she read her companion's future. a smile lit up the features of lady rosamond. "thank heaven, darling, for that smile," said the gifted daughter of sir howard, throwing her arms around the sorrowing girl and kissing her affectionately. lady rosamond felt happier and more encouraged from the fact of having such consolation and hope. mary douglas had shed a ray of comfort in one unhappy heart. she knew not the load which was thus removed. lady rosamond clung to those kind words with a fond pertinacity: not only the _words_, but the manner in which they were uttered. some evenings after the preceding interview had taken place, sir howard, lady douglas and family were assembled in the drawing room. miss douglas was seated at the piano, while miss mary douglas sang the song so dear to every scottish heart--highland mary. lady douglas listened to the melodies of her native land with heartfelt admiration. she loved to cultivate such taste on the part of her daughters. none could give a more perfect rendition of scotch music and poetry than they. when miss douglas sang "the winter is past," another of burn's melodies, mary douglas fancied she saw the beautifully chiselled lips of lady rosamond tremulous with emotion. the first verse ran thus: "the winter is past, and the summer's come at last, and the little birds sing on every tree; now everything is glad, while i am very sad, since my true love is parted from me." the finely cultivated voice of the singer entered fully into the spirit of the song, giving both expression and effect as she sang the last verse: "all you that are in love and cannot it remove, i pity the pains you endure: for experience makes me know that your hearts are full of woe, a woe that no mortal can cure." "one would judge that my sister had some experience, if we take the face as an index of the mind," said captain douglas, in playful badinage directed towards his favorite sister, who in reality did have an experience, but not of her own. she felt the blow thus unconsciously dealt at lady rosamond. luckily for the latter, the coincidence thus passed over without any betrayal of feelings. in mary douglas was a firm and watchful ally. in her were reflected the feelings which passed unobserved in lady rosamond, or attributed to absence from home, separation from familiar faces, or clinging memories of the past. another great source of protection lay in the composition of the character of the gifted ally. mary douglas was possessed of a temperament most keenly sensitive to the finest perception of poetic feeling. life to her was music and poetry. a beautiful picture either called forth joy or sorrow; a pathetic song thrilled her soul with well timed vibrations of feeling; a touching story brought tears to those lovely eyes, that would move one with pity. thus was concealed the sympathy for lady rosamond, as none would sacrilegiously question those motives save in playful reminder from captain douglas, who bowed in fond adoration to the shrine of his sister's loveliness and goodness. the entrance of mr. howe changed the current of conversation. politics naturally took the lead. the house of assembly being now three weeks in session, having opened april th, many important discussions took place. much turmoil had to be suppressed by the sagacious judgment of sir howard. his predecessors had loudly contended against the troubles arising from the sources and expenditure of revenues. happily, in the present administration, this matter had in a great measure subsided. for the general advancement of the province, his excellency left no means untried. his waking moments were almost entirely devoted to the interests of political welfare. his conversation within the family circle very often showed his zeal and the subject which lay near his heart. it was at this very time that he assembled all the legislators and influential citizens of fredericton, addressing them in terms of burning eloquence, impressing on them the value of extending the progress of agriculture, showing the nature of the soil of new brunswick; its perfect adaptation to the different kinds of products, and the independence of a country that can largely subsist upon its own resources. "the day will come, i hope," said sir howard, "when our farmers will be nobles of our land, and their sons and daughters ornaments to society, proud of the soil which raised them above the level of their less active fellow creatures." as the speech had given rise to much comment throughout the different classes, it was freely discussed at government house. this intelligent family often formed into a party of politicians and assumed the measured terms and knotty difficulties of political lore with an ease that was both instructive and amusing. "if papa would favor this august assembly by taking the floor of the house, we might be more free to avow our feelings." "i beg you will allow me to correct you, miss mary, as being rather sentimental in the choice of your last word," said mr. howe, appealing to sir howard with the question, "your excellency, have i not a right to make the correction?" "i acknowledge your suggestion, mr. speaker," said mary douglas in her own defence, "and hope, before the session is over, to make a decided improvement both in views and technicalities." "what!" exclaimed captain douglas, coming towards mr. howe. "are you and mary to take opposite measures already?" "not at all, sir," returned mr. howe, "i was merely setting her right on--" "technicalities," said the young girl, with a merry ringing laugh. "ah, mary!" cried charles douglas, playfully pulling back the clustering ringlets from his sister's white forehead, "poetry and politics cannot exist on very intimate terms of friendship, at least too much poetry." "have a care, young man," said sir howard, laughing at the last remark. "ah! there are exceptions to every rule, sir, which you did not give me an opportunity to add, and i still make the former assertion to be, to a certain extent, counterbalanced by the latter." from the appearance of different speakers the house seems to be out of order. from playful remarks followed an interesting and varied stock of earnest political conversation, in which lady douglas joined with apparent ease. from agriculture the question led to education, one in which his excellency had spent much time and labor. it is to sir howard that the present university owes its first existence, its various stages of progress and final success. it was he who procured the first charter granting the privileges of a university. few can realize the difficulties that sir howard met before accomplishing this great boon, and fewer still could see the way for raising the means necessary for the support of this institution. but an endowment was raised by grants from the revenue arising from the sale of unoccupied lands, and equal grants from the house of assembly. the next barrier presented by the colonists, for the suppression of the thirty-nine articles and the admission of dissenters, was in itself a formidable array of difficulty, notwithstanding the next uprising of episcopalian remonstrance. a sea of troubles! but reason, the true pilot, never deserted sir howard. the greatness of the cause was sufficient motive. as the story progresses we hope to give a few facts which will prove what success awaited him. in the administration of this distinguished military ruler, new brunswick found a warm and true-hearted friend and adviser--one whose memory is yet cherished within the hearts of those who had once seen his benignant and happy smile. such is a faint picture of the domestic and political bearing of the gifted and distinguished sir howard. chapter viii. bereford castle. in a beautifully remote district, between the celebrated towns of hastings and brighton, may be found the quaint old structure known as bereford castle. from the style of architecture it may be dated to the time of edward the third, bearing a striking resemblance to the castle re-erected in that monarch's reign by the earl of warwick. the castle of this period had degenerated or become more modernized. the closed fortress was rapidly assuming a mixture of the castle and mansion. instead of the old norman pile, with its two massive towers and arched gateway, thick walls, _oilets_ and portcullis, bereford castle comprised stately and magnificent halls, banqueting rooms, galleries, and chambers. the keep was detached from the building, a stronghold in itself, surrounded by smaller towers and the important and necessary moat. during the civil wars it had stood many sieges, but, after repeated attacks, in the course of time it fell into decay. much labor had been spent in repairing the part occupied as a residence until, at the present time, it was in good condition. the fine old park contained a valuable growth of trees--fir, spruce, pine, birch, elm, and the stately oak--which grew in luxuriant profusion. the north side of the castle commanded an extensive view of the surrounding hills, valley, and the winding river, with its numerous small inlets and tributaries. the owners of bereford castle prided themselves upon their extensive gardens, for which purpose many obstructions had been removed. an artificial labyrinth of choice trees was contrived with marvellous effect, producing echoes of unceasing variety. in this enclosure, comprising many acres, were the most beautiful designs of parterres, borders, walks, galleries, cabinets, pavilions, porticoes, and many more intricate inventions of landscape gardening. fountains gushed forth with untiring and fantastic wreaths of crystal foam; grottoes, cascades, mounts and precipices, seemed to steal away thought and quietly bear one to sleep to the music and dreams of fairyland. the interior of the castle was in keeping with the grounds. the great hall which, in olden time, formed the most important part of the whole, was somewhat reduced in its dimensions. the windows of stained glass were emblazoned with the armorial bearings of the family, while the walls were adorned with life-size portraits of their ancestors. the richly carved roof, with its massive timbers and pillars supporting it; the old relics, in the shape of banners, helmets, swords, shields, and other implements of warfare, were arranged on every side. on each wing of the main building were spacious, modern rooms, occupied by the family as private apartments, viz: the drawing-room, dining-room, and sleeping apartments. but perhaps the most attractive feature of the castle is the extensive library--an octagonal room in a small tower, apparently built at a recent date. the stained glass of its oriel window is very beautiful; the handsomely gilded ceiling and pannelled walls have a fine and striking effect; the floor is paved in marble, with inlaid mosaic; the shelves of rosewood and oak are filled with the most costly productions of literature, ancient and modern. this ancient family had cherished a fond taste for letters and science. the present lord, uncle of lady rosamond, still found leisure to devote many hours in his favorite resort--the library. gerald bereford cultivated a taste likewise. he was a young man of strong literary preferences, showing a desire for learning, with a keen appreciation of the pleasures and pastimes of daily life. the drawing-room of bereford castle was indeed a superb display of taste, grace, wealth and classic design. though firmly believing that a description will dispel the charm lingering around those beautiful rooms, i cannot resist the inclination to give one. lofty ceilings, frescoed and gilded, blazing in gold, with the arms of the family in bold relief; walls with wainscoting, arras and gorgeous tapestry. furniture polished, carved and decorated; chairs embroidered in crimson and gold; turkey carpets of fabulous price and texture; statuary, the work of ages; pictures, the work of a lifetime. mediæval grandeur in every niche and corner. add to this a view of the gardens from the deep embayed windows, and you have a faint conception of the drawing-room scene at bereford castle, the intended home for lady rosamond seymour. within this apartment are two occupants. seated, or rather reclining, near the lower window is maude bereford, a young girl, graceful and intelligent, but possessing no claim to rare beauty. a second glance increases your approbation. goodness of heart is indelible upon that face. the other occupant is a lady about sixty years of age. time had been generous in its demands by drawing small usury from his allotted spoliations. lady bereford had been a beauty in her day, and, judging from the skilful devices practised, wished yet to retain her passing glories. her fair complexion still showed a lingering bloom, the haughty eye still preserved a kindling glance, while her countenance and mien gave evidence of a stronger and more spirited cast of character than that of the young girl here mentioned. "maude," said her ladyship, "what news from lady rosamond?" "here is the letter, mamma, which you can read," said the young girl, at the same time placing a daintily folded letter in the lap of lady bereford. with elevated eyebrows her ladyship looked over the contents of the letter. an occasional frown showed the displeasure which some sentences gave to the reader. "it does not seem to please you, mamma," ventured maude. "i cannot think that lady rosamond is very complimentary to her friends in england. she makes no very kind allusions to her former companions here. you certainly will admit that fact." "oh, mamma, i am inclined to believe that you have formed mistaken opinions of dear lady rosamond. you see that she refers to scenes wherein all took a part, and i am sure that she is still my friend now as before she left us." "allow me, maude," exclaimed lady bereford with impatient gesture, "you have neither age nor experience on your side; but i feel convinced that rosamond has formed some attachment in new brunswick, which she has cleverly concealed. throughout her whole letter there is a want of earnestness that betrays her--an unsettled and vague uncertainty dictates every sentence. sir thomas did a very foolish action when he gave consent to his daughter's separation at a time when her nature is most susceptible to the temptations and flatteries of society." "mamma, i do not like to hear you speak thus of dear rosamond. i love her dearly, and i could not bear the thought of her forming any attachment outside our family." "that is one reason why i have been thinking so deeply upon the matter. that gerald loves his pretty cousin, we know full well, and the mortification of his being refused would be a heavy blow to our pride as well. from a conversation with sir thomas a few weeks ago, he gave us every assurance of an alliance of the families. gerald is living on the consummation of his hopes being realized, while i would fain remind him of the line--'hope deferred maketh the heart sick.'" "mamma, dear, you always seem to prefer the dark side," returned maude. "let us change the subject, as it is surely unjust to rosamond." "it is to be hoped that your fond dream may serve you aright," said her ladyship, with a tinge of sarcasm in her voice. at that moment maude bereford arose and playfully approached the door wherein stood the future lord bereford, the heir of bereford castle. tall, handsome, and affable, gerald bereford bore a strong resemblance to her ladyship, but lacking that severity which predominated in the latter. bold, regular features stamped the face of the young man. there was firmness about the mouth that indicated a strong energy and perseverance, at the sacrifice of much feeling. on the whole there was much in favor of gerald bereford's preferences; his clear, grey eye showed keen intellect, combined with mirth and humor; a deep manly voice, with purity of tone, spoke of truth and conscientious convictions. such was the character and personal appearance of the nephew and favorite of sir thomas seymour. maude led her brother to a seat beside lady bereford, and seated herself on a stool at his feet. "is this not a golden evening, gerald?" questioned the young girl, looking up in her brother's face. "yes," replied gerald, "but to enjoy the golden beauty, as you term it, i enforce strict and immediate attention to my wishes, and request your ladyship, and this little girl, will accept the escort of your liege lord." "my liege lord will need those gallantries in reserve," returned the sister, in arch and naive tones. lady bereford waived the imperative demand by desiring to remain. maude accepted the proffered arm of gerald to stroll beneath the inviting branches of the dear old oaks, so firmly interwoven in the scenes of innocent childhood and succeeding girlhood. the tender, sensitive girl loved her brother too deeply to believe that any could supplant his place in the love of lady rosamond. her true criterion was the pure, innocent, and trusting love of a sister. "gerald, my dear, i am glad this opportunity has been so timely chosen," said the fond sister in an earnest tone, placing her delicate little hand upon her brother's shoulder. "pray, what has happened, maude, that you look so sad?" said gerald, breaking out into a hearty laugh. "nothing has happened," answered maude; "really, if i look sad i do most wrongfully disavow my intention, having news for you--good news, too, i assure you," said maude, again looking at her brother wistfully. "can you not guess?" said she. "how should i?" returned gerald; "that would be a fruitless task." "since you have exercised such patience i will tell you," said maude: "i have just received a letter from rosamond." a blush quickly overspread gerald's face as he bowed acknowledgment. maude did not produce the letter which had been the cause of such annoyance to lady bereford, but she disclosed part of the contents and part she kept for herself. together they talked long and earnestly. though she took no liberty in showing the relationship in which she considered lady rosamond, her simple and earnest nature seemed to give assurance to gerald. he listened to his sister's repeated praise of her companion--of their girlish attachment--and heartily hoped that lady rosamond would return the deep love which he had unreservedly placed at her disposal--his heart, name, riches--all were given the absent and beautiful maiden. musing awhile, gerald was aroused by his sister, who almost petulantly exclaimed: "oh, gerald, i do wish that rosamond was home again, never to leave us. two years separation seems a long time in the future. i grow so impatient. do you know, gerald," added maude, with a bright eagerness, "i am going to write and urge her to shorten this lengthy probation. i cannot endure the thought. _two years!_" repeated she, a second time, with strong emphasis. "but you must remember the fable of the boys and the frogs," said gerald, with an amused smile. this remark reminded maude of the sentiments of her mother, but she would not repeat them in the presence of her brother. she did not wish to cherish or countenance anything that would be disloyal to lady rosamond. in her sincerity she would not believe any views relating to her friend unless they received her direct sanction. gerald bereford had misgivings regarding his hopes, but trusted that time and the favor of sir thomas would eventually disclose a brighter prospect. no jealousy had crossed his mind. had lady bereford expressed her opinion in his presence he might have formed a far different view of the matter. at present all was tranquil. maude's earnestness momentarily affected him--nothing more. lord bereford, the present incumbent, was a man of sterling integrity--a firm friend of his brother-in-law, sir thomas seymour. though a man of high birth, distinguished, and sought by the great and learned, he was gentle, unassuming, and benign. from her father maude bereford inherited the quiet and unobtrusive demeanor, so strongly in contrast to the haughty and obsequious bearing of lady bereford. gerald was a strange compound of both--a fact that gave birth to the honest convictions of his nature. lord bereford was an ardent admirer of lady rosamond--"a true bereford,"--the counterpart of her mother, maria bereford, whose beauty had been the theme of unusual admiration. for hours could he gaze upon his sister's child and recall the past, when a beautiful girl wandered through the old familiar spots and looked to him for brotherly sympathy when any annoyance rose before her. when the young girl grew to womanhood and gave her affection to his boyhood friend, sir thomas seymour, he bestowed his blessing. was he to repeat that blessing upon the child? many times did lord bereford dwell upon this subject. his was a nature endowed with lasting qualities, true sympathy was the key note to his heart. he loved lady rosamond with devout, tender solicitude as his only daughter, and her happiness was his. if the love that gerald bereford bore towards his niece was not entirely reciprocated, and at the great sacrifice, would the true-hearted nobleman have urged upon sir thomas the error of his conduct? such liberalism upon his part provoked the resentment of lady bereford, who could not brook any interference with the strictly defined principles of conservatism so long entailed upon every branch of her family. sir thomas seymour was a staunch worshipper of his sister-in-law's doctrine. he cherished every idea with fondness, occasionally bringing them forth to view as opportunity favored. while lady rosamond is sadly watching the days and months drag slowly along within the bosom of sir howard douglas' happy household, such are the motives actuating each of those who endeavor to seek her welfare; such is the state of their respective feelings, such their fond hope--their brightest dreams--laboring under the fatal delusion of giving happiness to her future. ah, your ladyship! were a kind fairy, in the form of a godmother, to breathe a few words into the ear of your loving and tender uncle, lord bereford, his kind heart would go forth to meet thee and save thee from a world of misery--from the fiery ordeal through which thou must pass! chapter ix. memorable scenes of autumn, . the summer and autumn of this year were indeed the most memorable in the annals of new brunswick's history. many there are still living who distinctly remember that awful visitation. the season of drought was unparalleled. farmers looked aghast and trembled as they viewed the scanty, withered products of the land. all joined in the common uneasiness, daily awaiting relief. none felt more anxiety than sir howard douglas, whose sole interests were those of his people. wishing to know the true state of the country, his excellency made a tour of the farming districts, penetrating back settlements where the greatest suffering might be expected. while absent on this errand of mercy, a sad misfortune befell the inmates of government house. on the th of september their home was wrapped in devouring elements of flame, being almost entirely consumed. it is on such occasions that the nobler side of our nature asserts its true dignity and shows qualities that otherwise would remain in obscurity. lady douglas, with calm and dignified composure, prepared her family to realize the situation, and with heroic firmness persisted in rescuing nearly all the valuables within government house. the great assistance rendered by the citizens in their indefatigable labors, showed the unbounded and grateful respect borne towards this distinguished family. every one was ready to offer aid. the daughters of lady douglas reflected her ladyship's cool intrepidity. with tears in her eyes, mary douglas viewed the smoking mass where she had passed so many happy hours. captain charles douglas, knowing well the tenor of his sister's poetic nature, kindly and encouragingly exclaimed, "never mind, mary dear; thank heaven no lives are lost. we will soon be united." those simple words had the desired effect. the tender hearted maiden at once saw the ingratitude of her murmurs, and felt deeply thankful for her brother's gentle reproof. lady rosamond, if possible, had stronger claims upon the heart of mary douglas and the entire household. she had wrought with a determination to do what she could--aye, more than she could. on being advised by charles douglas to desist, she firmly replied, "not until everything is done that i can do." a young officer, who happened to hear these words, received them as a valuable souvenir years afterwards, realizing their true worth. it was, indeed, a most remarkable circumstance that so much valuable furniture and perishable articles were saved. one act of recklessness to be regretted was the cutting down of a valuable chandelier which, falling with a heavy crash, was shivered in a thousand pieces. in a few days lady douglas and family sought shelter among their friends, from whom they received the strongest proofs of kindness. to a lady friend in england her ladyship writes: "the sympathy and real kindness received from the citizens of fredericton i can never forget. the fire proved that the old adage, though homely, is a true one--'a friend in need is a friend indeed.'" when sir howard returned, and was once more received in his family, he felt grateful to providence for his kind deliverance. no vain or useless repinings marked the course of his conduct. with renewed energy this man of indomitable courage was again immersed in the public weal as well as the re-establishing of his family in comfortable quarters. a large and commodious building on king street, the property of henry smith, esq.,[ ] was now being prepared for the reception of his excellency. the government expended a considerable sum in making the necessary improvements, and within a very short time the citizens of fredericton had the pleasure of seeing their beloved ruler and his family once more situated in a happy home. but sir howard was to face more terrific and threatening dangers. his unbounded sympathies had further and unlimited room for exercise. [footnote : the house at present occupied by chief justice allen.] october came, attended by the long continued drought. gloom was depicted on every side. many conjectures were afloat regarding the vicinity of the fire, which gave evidence of its existence in the density of smoke that filled the atmosphere. in the midst of this impending danger, on the th october, a fire broke out in the woods surrounding "the hermitage," the residence of the hon. thomas baillie, on the government house road. here the forethought of sir howard was exhibited with unequalled prudence, having every available engine and means of succor close at hand. by great exertions the house was saved. danger still lurked in the woods. within an hour an alarm was given in the city. sir howard was the first on the spot, having ridden furiously his spirited and favorite steed. engines were again in quick action, while the military were only a short distance behind, being ordered up at the double. the scene was terrific. high winds blew the fire from one building to the next, until the third part of the city was a mountain of flame--cracking, roaring, tremendous in its fury. water was kept up in constant streams, having but little effect. many sat down and cried in their frantic emotion. hundreds of families without home, food, or clothing. in the midst of this sickening sight was one whose very presence lifted a weight from the hearts of the sad and homeless. sir howard never once deserted his post--working, encouraging, and aiding. by his advice the fire was stayed--two-thirds of the town still remaining. the stifling air and glowing heavens made the hearts of many grow sick and faint. perhaps it would be wiser to end the tale of misery here, but as the chapter would seem incomplete, it may be necessary to make slight allusion to a wilder and more terrible fire. the consummation of terror, madness, and dismay, depicted in its most awful form, would fail to do justice to this sickening calamity--the miramichi fire. the forests, for hundreds of miles in every direction, were one solid mass of living fire, roaring louder than thunder; in its fury shaking the bowels of the earth and leaping up to the heavens which seemed, also, to be enveloped in flames. nothing more awful will be witnessed until the judgment day. many were of opinion that the time was at hand when "the heavens and earth shall melt away." hundreds lost their lives, while property was destroyed to an immense amount. an ordinary mind would have sunk under the weight of grievances that pressed on all sides; but sir howard douglas rose above the situation. with spartan firmness and unswerving courage he set about raising means for the distressed by subscription, both at home and abroad, in money, food, and clothing. letters were sent to all parts of america, england, and ireland. not thus content, sir howard went himself to visit burnt districts where man or beast could scarcely penetrate, climbing over miles of fallen brushwood. those poor creatures tried to show their gratitude by words, but were unable. their tears were a more gracious tribute than jewels--being the grateful offering of a stricken community. their benefactor had conveyed provision for their sustenance, and clothing for their wives and families. many were the fervent prayers offered for their noble-hearted and humane ruler, and none more gratefully acknowledged these than he. much more might be told in connection with those sad events, but as the details might not be acceptable to the reader, therefore we refrain. once more gathered in their home, the family of sir howard were not inactive. the spirit of charity was manifest in every action of those lovely girls. mary douglas and lady rosamond had formed a sewing circle, to which they invited some of their young acquaintances. in this charitable employment they spent many hours. clothing was made and distributed with increasing demand. the severity of winter caused many poor people to look for assistance in every possible form. gaiety was for a time forgotten. festive parties and sumptuous array were set aside for the necessities of the season. it is a well established fact that the miseries of others often alleviate our own. to none could this application be more forcible than lady rosamond. in her bitterness of heart she experienced a quiet relief in assisting her companions to provide clothing for the sufferers. the scenes through which she had passed counterbalanced the feelings she had hitherto experienced and taught her gentle resignation. her thoughts were of a more serious nature--a source whence she derived much comfort. her parent's views were unaltered; her hopes were no brighter in the distant future, but, as afterwards expressed, she had more strength given her from the bitter trials of suffering humanity. as christmas drew nigh the inmates of government house could not resist a desire to look back to the joyous season which they had passed in the home now laid low, its surrounding woods, their pleasant excursions, and the extensive preparations in decorating for the festive scenes that followed. pioneer johnnie was loud in regrets for the apparent neglect which the sylvan deities must naturally feel by his temporary absence from their select and stately assemblages. "keep up your spirits, master johnnie," once remarked lady rosamond, "the next time we go back the trees will recognize the compliment with music and grateful homage." "as none but you and lady rosamond regret being turned out, i presume," exclaimed charles douglas, who was always ready to join any conversation that afforded amusement. he continued passing careless jokes until the clock in the hall reminded him of his business. "really, lady rosamond, i credit you with driving away dull care and my forfeiting all claims to the future good will of my friend howe by disregarding his message. pardon me, ladies, for having almost forgotten to say that the sleigh will be in readiness in half an hour." "half an hour," exclaimed mary douglas, somewhat hastily, "really, charles, i cannot pardon you for such neglect, as it sadly interferes with my plans." "come, little one, frowns do not become thy brow," returned captain douglas, kissing the forehead of his sister. "that is much prettier," said he, pointing to the smiling face which in turn rested upon him. taking up a book which lay open beside the seat hitherto occupied by lady rosamond, captain douglas commenced to read some lines from tennyson, when accosted by his companion, mr. howe: "you seem to be taking things very cool, old fellow. where are the ladies?" "they are getting ready; come in while we are waiting." "this is your fault again, douglas. it is past the hour, and a large party awaits us," said mr. howe impatiently. "better late than never," vociferated captain douglas, as he went out singing, quickly returning with mary douglas and lady rosamond. "it is all charles' fault," said the former, by way of explanation. "ha, ha, ha," laughed captain douglas, "i knew this was coming, but i must be as jolly as i can." "your ladyship is under my protection," said the incorrigible delinquent, offering his arm to lady rosamond, while mary douglas was assigned to the companionship of the private secretary. "this is indeed a merry party," said lady rosamond to her gallant, as he placed her beside him and wrapped the daintily lined robes around her. "i am half inclined to be angry with trevelyan," said mr. howe, turning around in his seat and facing captain douglas. "what are your grounds?" questioned the latter. "enough to justify my declaration," said the former, apparently looking at captain douglas, but in reality casting sidelong glances at lady rosamond. what did he seek there? did jealousy cause that stolen glance? what was the motive? these important questions certainly deserve some attention, which, in justice to mr. howe and the parties concerned, and last, but not least, the reader, this concession must be granted. as admitted, the private secretary of sir howard douglas entertained a warm friendship towards lieutenant trevelyan, treating him with the tenderness of a younger brother. being constantly thrown in the society of each other, there was much to be learned on both sides. that the young lieutenant returned this friendship he took no pains to conceal, knowing that in mr. howe he had an interested friend and adviser. for some time in the past the keen eye of the former detected a sudden strange and half concealed manner possessing his young friend, which completely puzzled him: various conjectures presented themselves, but all unsatisfactory and vague. still further watch was kept upon the actions of guy trevelyan, but nothing appeared to solve the difficult problem. an opportunity at last rewarded this perseverance. as explained in a preceding chapter, one side of mysterious question was solved without any effort or seeking the on the part of any one. by a mere accident mr. howe learned the cause which had so deeply influenced the course of guy trevelyan's actions, and, furthermore, his feelings. here was something gained: did it bode good or evil to the young lieutenant? these were questions that revolved themselves in the mind of the reasoner. gladly would he do anything that would further the interest of his young friend, yet there might be a likelihood of stretching this prerogative if it in anywise interfered with the direct affairs of another. whichever view of the matter was taken difficulty arose on every hand. let us hasten to the main point of the argument. that lieutenant trevelyan loved lady rosamond with a pure and ardent love was a matter beyond doubt. she was the ruling passion that influenced every action, guarded or unguarded. it was this knowledge that now gave the secretary so much perplexity. he entertained towards lady rosamond a kind and friendly regard; he was willing to serve her under any ordinary circumstances and in any friendly capacity. in the present instance lady rosamond was under the charge and protection of lady douglas, who would be, in a measure, responsible for any attachment thus formed while she remained her guest. on this point were many conscientious scruples to be overcome, which did not meet the approval of that course of honor which had hitherto characterized mr. howe's principles and actions. he must not sacrifice these even at the great risk of gaining the happiness of a young and respected friend. but the sight of the young lieutenant pleaded more eloquently than the most glowing and pathetic language. his thoughtful eyes, his pure white forehead, and clustering ringlets of chestnut hair, had a wealth of appeal hidden beneath, conveying more subtle beauty than the production of the countless volumes of mystic ages. thus situated, the secretary felt the awkwardness of his position. it was not curiosity that prompted; it was a secret influence which the young lieutenant inspired--an influence that held the former bound and enchained with no means of escape at hand. chapter x. the interview. in a small but handsome reception room adjoining the library of bereford castle sat its stately mistress, with an impatient and eager look upon her countenance. trifling with a pretty trinket which she has in her hand, her ladyship is apparently ill at ease. something has given cause for annoyance and grave deliberation. an anxious and hasty glance towards the door, shows that a visitor is momentarily awaited. taking advantage of these moments, i will occupy them in dilating upon a few of the qualities and characteristics of the distinguished occupant. lady bereford was a woman of shrewdness and capacity, possessing a subtle weight of influence that bore with irresistible force, and was stoutly prepared to resist an opposing element in any quarter. the daughter of a london barrister of considerable reputation, her ladyship dwelt with pride upon her fond preference for the legal profession. her conversation was frequently interspersed with learned remarks, savoring of the inner temple, its dingy courts, volumes of dust and musty manuscripts. "evidence and proof" were leading points always at hand. caution was the inevitable watchword, based upon a scrutinizing and at times heartless penetration. in short, the character of lady bereford might be summed up in a few words--as a cool, clever and calculating woman of the world--one not to be baffled by ordinary circumstances. on the present occasion her eye has a fire in its depths that brooks no interference. her brows are knotted with an angry frown; as she raises them hastily, the frown has departed. the small and still plump white hand is extended. sir thomas seymour bows very low, receives the hand, kissing the tips of the taper fingers, is seated in an elegantly embroidered fauteuil opposite her ladyship. after the usual pleasantries had passed, sir thomas commenced by way of explanation: "your ladyship will pardon this detention, from the fact of my being absent when your note arrived. business demanding my presence at the admiralty office i was unavoidably detained for some days. on arriving yesterday i immediately telegraphed the fact to lord bereford, but hope that the present misfortune will not seriously interfere with any of your ladyship's plans." assuming an air of much importance, her ladyship began; "when i addressed you, it was merely in the form of a note, not wishing to convey a subject of such importance to paper, deeming that it demanded your personal attention. i fully exonerate you by the ready response as shown at this instance." this remark sir thomas politely acknowledged with a deep bow, while a shade of uneasiness was visible upon his features. with another assuming air to gain, if possible, a more wise and legal manner, her ladyship thus resumed: "sir thomas, you must certainly be aware of my motives in thus requesting an interview. you cannot be insensible to the fact that it entirely concerns the lady rosamond." here sir thomas became somewhat agitated, but her ladyship continued: "strictly speaking, it concerns both families, as how can it apply to the former without a direct application to gerald bereford, in which case is involved that of his connexions." sir thomas felt the necessity of waiving those points of nicety, but knowing too well that any interference would entail a more definite investigation, listened with utmost composure in the hope of instant relief. with the stem gravity of a learned judge, ready to pronounce sentence upon the culprit arraigned, her ladyship in graver tone continued: "i cannot but admit that the matter has given me very great annoyance. i again refer to lady rosamond." the affair, at each mention of the latter, assumed a graver importance, while sir thomas inwardly struggled to maintain a studied demeanor as becoming the grave occasion. "you are possibly not aware of the position in which her ladyship is being placed by this temporary separation from her family?" ventured lady bereford, with full interrogative force that at length afforded an opportunity to sir thomas. "the matter," returned he, "has never given me any serious apprehensions, and, pardon me, i must confess to your ladyship that there seem no apparent grounds for any. lady rosamond has been made acquainted with our views regarding gerald, and knowing this, i have too much confidence in her nature to harbor a thought that she will either, in word or action, entertain a wish in opposition to that of a fond and solicitous parent." "i admit that lady rosamond is indeed a worthy and dutiful daughter; yet, pardon me, there are many little undesirable and inconsistent fancies which, in the waywardness of youth, are ready to take form in the tender and susceptible nature of a young girl, and which, if not constantly watched, assume a degree of strength almost uncontrollable. allow me to state the case," continued her ladyship, "when, perhaps, you may see the matter in a clearer light." at mention of the word _case_ sir thomas dreaded another succession of legal points, but demurely listened to the following version: "you have unwittingly placed your child in a very dangerous position. to none would i so readily give the protection of my daughter as lady douglas, who is, in every sense, a true mother and a dignified woman; yet there are moments when lady rosamond can assert her right to control her own impulses and feelings. as a guest she has an entire right, while it would otherwise be a stretch of prerogative on the part of the guardian." "you cannot but admit," said her ladyship, still bent on influencing her attentive listener, "that lady rosamond is indeed very beautiful, which alone has sufficient reason to sustain my argument. beauty, through countless ages, has been the source of much misery. through helen was lost a troy; cleopatra, roman glory." her ladyship was going to cite further examples when interrupted by sir thomas exclaiming: "your ladyship will pardon me, but it would certainly be deep injustice at present to raise an objection on this point; it surely did not bring misery in its train to lord bereford." at this compliment to her beauty and vanity, a rare smile lit the face of lady bereford, while she gaily added: "sir thomas, you still cling to your former gallantry with the pertinacity of an ill-favored suitor." seeing that the last evidence was ill-grounded, her ladyship, having reconsidered the situation, again resumed: "you must admit that among the military staff of sir howard douglas there are many attractive and eligible young gentlemen worthy of the hand of the fairest. besides, there are many families holding high position in new brunswick, the descendants of persons of rank equal to our own. among these are gentlemen--brave, handsome, and equally fascinating. it would indeed be a very extraordinary case if the lady rosamond, with all her beauty and accomplishments, daily surrounded by an admiring crowd, should not unconsciously fall a prey to her already susceptible nature. sir thomas," continued her ladyship, with more vehemence in her manner, "you do not seem to weigh matters as i do, or you would certainly see the error you have committed--the great wrong you have done to your child. were i to disclose the facts, they would astonish you, but if in the future, when too late you make such a discovery, you will have only yourself to blame. that lady rosamond has formed an attachment i am certain; of its value i am not prepared to say; but, in honor to gerald bereford, i have a right to demand your attention." at this sudden declaration sir thomas was astounded. "where is the proof of this?" demanded he in startling surprise. her ladyship then referred to the letter--its unconnected and half-hidden sentences--and expressed her firm conviction of the certainty of those predictions. sir thomas drew a sigh of relief when he found no stronger evidence against the straightforward and conscientious spirit that had hitherto pervaded his loved child. lady bereford possessed the tactics of a clever reasoner. when she had failed in bringing her own arguments to bear directly she had recourse to more forcible measures. the mention of gerald bereford had instantaneous effect. sir thomas' eye brightened with renewed lustre; his whole expression betrayed the ruling passion within him. her ladyship took advantage of the situation. "if you will empower me to act in this case there will be no further trouble to be apprehended. woman is the best judge of woman. leave the matter in my hands, sir thomas, and you will have no further anxiety. i will assure you that gerald will meet no refusal when he asks lady rosamond to become his wife." sir thomas yielded. he knew that in this lay his child's happiness, which, as a parent, he was in duty bound to promote. "your ladyship is right," exclaimed sir thomas, "but in granting this i request that you will not in any way shorten the visit of lady rosamond." "rest assured," cried her ladyship, "that no such demands will be made. the happiness of her ladyship will be our sole interest; kind and friendly advice, with gentle admonition, is the only safeguard." when lady bereford had gained the case (according to her legal version) her manner changed as if by magic. gay smiles played over her features with inexpressible delight; her voice was soft, smooth, and bewitching with sweetness. sir thomas was persuaded to remain to luncheon. the party consisted of the family, sir thomas, and colonel trevelyan, a gentleman whose acquaintance lord bereford formed while visiting an old friend. the conversation was friendly and animated. many topics of general interest afforded them an opportunity to pass the hours in a pleasant, lively and genial manner. having by accident referred to his connection with the peninsula campaign, lord bereford was delighted to find another intimate friend of sir howard douglas. sir thomas seymour joined heartily in the general discourse. colonel trevelyan, or properly speaking sir guy trevelyan, told many incidents of military and social life, in which sir howard and himself had figured quite conspicuously. great was maude bereford's delight when she learned that the young officer, so often alluded to in the letters received from mary douglas, was the son of their guest. at this intelligence a sudden frown rested on lady bereford's brow, but momentarily vanished. she had gained her point; such matters did not so forcibly affect her now. naturally many inquiries were made respecting the young lieutenant, all of which were answered in a quiet and unassuming way. the character of the father betrayed that of his son. without questioning why maude bereford felt a deep interest in the young unknown, she had already been forming plans of inquiry to ascertain a further knowledge. lady rosamond would certainly be able to give her a correct description. certainly her ladyship must spend much time in the company of one who had such claims on the friendship of sir howard. reasoning thus was the gentle daughter of lady bereford, while the latter was exultant in having formed a plan for the furtherance of a scheme which lay near her heart. the next morning her ladyship was alone in her boudoir. a delicately folded sheet lay upon the exquisitely inlaid writing desk before her. satisfaction beams upon her by occasional smiles. again she seizes the unclosed letter, examines closely its contents, and, with evident ease, places it in an envelope which she seals and addresses. a servant in livery answers the summons of a silver bell standing beside the desk. her ladyship, drawing aside a hanging of silver tissue, approaches the door where the missive is delivered in charge of the liveried attendant. with a sense of relief lady bereford returns to the library to await the morning mail. lady bereford indeed lavished all the fondness of a mother's pride upon her first-born. maude was to her a simple-minded, gentle girl, whose sole influence was her mother's will. the daughter of lord bereford was a true type of her father: gentle, conscientious and sympathetic. in lady rosamond, maude bereford could see no reason for such anxiety as was manifested by her mother, yet she would feel disappointed if her companion would form another attachment. maude loved her brother with all the tenderness of her nature, while gerald bereford returned this love with deep fervent gratitude. his sister was to him the connecting link with lady rosamond. he took pleasure in daily walks with maude, whose playful childish ways often reminded him of the absent cousin. the future lord of bereford castle was worthy the love of the fairest, purest and truest. he possessed a spirit of independent manliness, and would brook no favor that was not warranted by honor. when gerald bereford asked his uncle for a right to address the lady rosamond, it was from a spirit of honor. he dearly loved the beautiful girl, though he had never avowed his feelings, and when she treated his advances with coolness, he still cherished the hope that in the end his love would be reciprocated. on receiving the joyful assurance from sir thomas that the great object of both families was the consummation of these hopes, the ardent lover was happy beyond doubt. sir thomas had led gerald bereford to believe that the lady rosamond had always favoured his suit, but in girlish caprice had refused him any encouragement until the expiration of her visit, when she would return home ready to receive the courtly attentions of her relative. cheered by these fond assurances, gerald bereford did anxiously look forward to lady rosamond's return. sir thomas had indeed communicated this matter to his nephew with a firm assurance of the realization on the part of both. he doubted the true feelings of his child, but he was determined that the event should take place after sufficient time had elapsed. lady bereford knew that sir thomas was really deceiving himself as well as his nephew; but with the keen perception of her nature, kept her own counsel. she, as well as sir thomas, was determined to carry out her design, for which purpose she closely concealed part of her views from maude upon the reading of lady rosamond's letter, also her message to sir thomas, their interview, concessions and result. practical and calculating woman of the world as was lady bereford, might it be possible that she could heartlessly seal that daintily perfumed missive which was to become the source of such almost unendurable anguish? really, one would fain exculpate her ladyship of the great wrong--a wrong which for years could not be obliterated from the hearts of those whose sufferings were borne silently and without reproach, each bearing the burden with a sickening heart, feeling that death would be a happy relief. what a world is ours. what a problem is life. is there any word in the english language more suggestive? life--its surroundings, aspects, all its outward associations. is this the limit? would to heaven in some instances it were so, that the end be thus. what a hollow mockery does it impart to the heart of lady rosamond, whose cause of misery remains as yet half told. life--a troubled dream, a waking reality, yet we cling to it with fond delusive hopes. what astute reasoner will solve, the intricacies of this problem? can one who has suffered? the muffled throes of crushed hearts are the only response. god pity them! chapter xi. fredericton: its buildings, public houses, amusements, etc the year following the great fire was marked by great progress throughout the province. farmers were again in homes which they had built upon the site of those destroyed by the devouring element. fields once more showed signs of cultivation. with sir howard douglas to stimulate the prosperity of his people, progress was the watchword--the general impulse. fredericton, like the phoenix, had arisen from its ashes; buildings arose in rapid succession. wooden houses of moderate pretensions lined queen and king streets, from westmorland to carleton street, the limit of the burnt district. business was carried on by a few upright and enterprising merchants, foremost of whom stood rankine & co., the leading firm of the city. this establishment was situated on queen street, between northumberland and westmorland streets, in which was constantly pouring an unlimited source of supplies for conducting the immense lumber trade established by this firm, whose name shall be remembered while new brunswick shall continue to produce one stick of timber. many farmers of that time yet have occasion to refer to the generosity which characterized this long established firm. many yet bless the name of rankine & co. the public buildings of our city were in keeping with the private residences. no barker house or queen hotel adorned our principal street as now; no city hall, normal school, or court house. on the present site of the barker house was a long two-story wooden building, designated as hooper's hotel under the proprietorship of mr. hooper. this was the only accommodation for public dinners, large parties, balls, etc in this hotel the st. george society annually celebrated their anniversary by a grand dinner party where heart-stirring speeches, toasts and patriotic songs, were the general order of programme, of which the following verses are an example. they were composed in april , and sung by one of the members of this society at a public dinner that year, after the toast of "lord aylmer and the colonies." the idea was suggested to the young law student by looking upon a map showing the territory explored by the cabots and called cabotia. the writer will be readily recognized as one of new brunswick's most eloquent, gifted, and favored statesmen, recently holding the highest position in the province:-- when england bright, with freedom's light, shone forth in dazzling splendor, she scorned to hold, the more than gold, from those who did befriend her; at space she spurned, with love she burned, and straight across the ocean sent freedom's rays, t' illume their days and quell their sons' commotion. hail, britannia! thou loving, kind britannia! ne'er failed to wield thy spear and shield. to guard our soil, britannia! but rebels choose for to refuse, the boon thus kindly granted, and with vile art, in many a heart, black discord's seeds they planted; now civil war, in bloody car, rode forth--and desolation, extended wide, its horrid stride for mock emancipation. o cabotia! old england's child cabotia! no rebel cloud[ ] did e'er enshroud thy sacred soil, cabotia! the purple flood of traitors' blood sent vapors black to heaven, and hid the blaze of freedom's rays, by a kind parent given; but liberty, quite loath to see, america neglected, came to our land, and with kind hand her temple here erected; o cabotia! them favored land, cabotia! while we have breath we'll smile at death, to guard thy soil, cabotia! when foreign foes we did oppose, britannia stood our second, and those we fought were dearly taught, without their host they reckoned; and should they now, with hostile prow, but press, our lakes and rivers, the giant-stroke, from british oak, would rend their keels to shivers. and thou, cabotia! old england's child cabotia! would see thy race in death's embrace before they'd yield cabotia! while shamrock, rose, and thistle grow, so close together blended, new brunswick ne'er will need to fear, but that she'll be befriended; we need not quake, for nought can break the sacred ties that bind us, and those, who'd spoil our hallowed soil, true blue are sure to find us. o cabotia! our native land, cabotia! for thee we'll drain our every vein, old england's child cabotia! [footnote : long before the canadian rebellion.] here the st. andrews society also gave their national celebration. last, but not least, came the st. patrick society. the last named might, indeed, be called _the_ society. aided and encouraged by colonel minchin, hon. thomas bailie, mr. phair, and many other distinguished irish gentlemen, the st. patrick's society of fredericton at that time attained a high social position. on st. patrick's eve a yearly celebration also took place, the place of rendezvous being situated on carleton street, adjoining the building now occupied as the post office. eloquent and patriotic speeches were the leading features of those meetings. the following instance will serve to give an idea of the spirit which inspired those reunions. on one occasion a member of this organization--a well-known citizen of fredericton for many years--spoke as follows: "mr. president and gentlemen, i wish to call your attention to a subject which should fire the heart of every irishman. who was the gallant soldier, the true patriot, the hero who never once shrank from the fiercest of the fight, whose only glory was in his country's cause? who led his army conquering and to conquer, facing the foe with the calm and intrepid coolness of one who knew not the meaning of fear? who fought with fierce determination to conquer or die when surrounded by thousands of armed guerillas on the outskirts of spain? who dared to face napoleon? who dared to conquer the iron will of the bourbon mandate? who but the proud 'hero of a hundred fights,'--the duke of wellington! what country gave him birth?" "ireland!" was the answer, amid deafening shouts of applause which caused the building to shake beneath their feet. this is but one of the stories told of those meetings, showing the spirit of interest manifested. to return to hotels. on the site at present occupied by the queen hotel formerly stood the market inn, kept by mr. richard staples. this was a comfortable and convenient house, frequented by farmers as they came to the city to dispose of their produce. in those days people settled principally near the st. john river and its numerous tributaries, with their lakes; therefore farmers generally used small boats for means of conveyance, waggons being looked upon as an extravagant luxury. another public house, kept by mr. robert welch, and known as the albion hotel, also occupied a prominent position, being well furnished and affording comfort and good accommodation to the travelling public. on waterloo row was situated the time-honored royal oak, kept by miss polly van horn, a name well known to those residing in the lower country districts. of other public institutions less may be said. on the square now adorned by the imposing city hall, with its memorable clock, formerly stood or rather squatted the old tank house, serving rather in the capacity of use than ornament. an old marketplace occupied the ground on which is now erected the county court house. it would be impossible to enter into details regarding every building; we merely cite a few facts to give a general idea of the situation of fredericton at that time. before leaving these matters we must not omit mention of a quiet social organization then known as the philharmonic society. it was composed of a number of young gentlemen, members of the most influential families of the city. wallace, band-master of h. m. nd regiment, took an active part in instructing these youths, who, within a short period, had acquired such proficiency as to enable them to give a series of entertainments in hooper's hotel. these consisted of selections displaying musical skill, ability and taste. conspicuous among the members of the philharmonic society was a young student named vivian yorke, afterwards a member of the legal profession; in later years, his burning eloquence had power to thrill the eager audience attendant upon his appearance. as a lover of music, the young scholar had from his childhood won a reputation beyond his years, while his association with the organization had given it a stimulus worthy such encouragement. vivian yorke had won high position within the social circle as well. his genial disposition, frank, manly bearing, dignified form and handsome face were sufficient passports irrespective of his other claims to distinction. it is almost needless to add, that mr. yorke stood high in the estimation of the band-master, who arranged several airs especially adapted to a number of patriotic songs composed by his talented pupil. in succeeding chapters we will allude to the rising career of mr. yorke as the occasion demands. in this year the house of assembly was opened by a warm debate upon the college bill, which received stout resistance from all dissenting bodies. the episcopalians sought aid from the archbishop of canterbury and the bishop of nova scotia. but the judgment of sir howard was equal to the occasion. his measures were such as must ultimately accomplish the desired end. the nd regiment, as yet stationed in fredericton, still maintained their unbounded popularity, entertained their many friends at princely dinners, gave an unlimited number of balls, parties and festive gatherings. the race course still continued to be the daily resort for the distinguished horsemen. races were a favorite pastime. cricket and foot-ball had now become quite common. on the old square situated between york street and wilmot's alley the youths of the city daily assembled to practise these sports, while the military occupied a space within their own ground. the inhabitants also enjoyed the music furnished by the nd band, which almost daily performed in the officers' square. a large and imposing structure was now being erected upon the exact site where the former government house stood. the present building, owing to its greater proportions, consequently covered more ground. the model was a handsome residence in the island of jamaica; the plans were drawn up by a celebrated architect, who had formerly been acquainted with sir howard douglas, under whose direct supervision the entire building was constructed. as, for some time, new brunswick was ruled by a military governor, government house was so arranged that a military and civil staff could each occupy a separate wing of the building, while the main body was allotted to the family. it was well for the province that sir howard douglas was then at hand. the handsome and substantial edifice remains a lasting monument of grateful remembrance. while public affairs are thus engrossing the attention of the country at large, the family of sir howard are now quietly enjoying their temporary home in the lower part of the town. lady douglas, beloved by all, is assisting and cheering his excellency with all the energy of her nature. the young ladies are happy in their varied labors of love. lady rosamond has not yet turned her thoughts homeward, save to quiet the rebellious thoughts that rise with occasional and twofold bitterness; she has the heavy trial before her; she drives away the mocking realities of the future. vain are the hours wasted in useless repining. when lady rosamond made the disclosure to her companion, mary douglas, receiving the full and deep sympathy of true friendship, had she fully relieved her mind of its entire burden--its crushing weight? ah, no! there was hidden deep in the most remote corner of lady rosamond's heart a secret which she would never reveal. time would bring its changes. her ladyship would return to her native home, and, amidst its gay scenes, pass a lifetime of seeming happiness; and the secret will burn its impress in characters of flame. one evening lady douglas remained in her own apartments somewhat longer than her custom. had prying eyes been active the cause might be assigned to the entrance of lady rosamond, who had joined her ladyship nearly an hour previous. on seeing the agitated face of the pale but beautiful girl her ladyship experienced a pang of deep remorse. she felt her strength deserting her, yet the task was to be accomplished. "rosamond, my darling," said the gentle lady, "i have received a letter from lady bereford, who, judging from the tone of the writing, seems to have some anxiety on your behalf." this revelation afforded momentary relief to the high-born girl, who was, indeed, a lovely picture, reclining on a cushion at the feet of lady douglas. a shade of sadness rested upon her face, giving her the expression of a madonna--a study for raphael. "lady bereford intimates, in touching terms, that i am to exercise a careful surveillance upon your girlish fancies," continued her ladyship, with slight sarcasm in her tone. "rosamond, my darling," cried she, by way of apostrophe, "i have every reason to place in you full confidence. i cannot see any ground for such intimation." "your ladyship is right," returned lady rosamond, throwing her arms around the neck of lady douglas, giving full vent to the feelings which almost overwhelmed her, adding, between tears and sobs: "i have always obeyed my father's wishes and will not shrink from my duty now. gerald bereford is worthy of a nobler wife than i dare ever hope to be. he has indeed conferred on me a distinguished honor, and i must try to make amends with all the gratitude of which i am capable." saying this the brave girl tried to force a smile, which, from its superficial nature, cost a great effort, adding: "your ladyship will have nothing to fear; my father's wishes are mine." from the spirit of determination, which left an impress on the beautiful features of lady rosamond, lady douglas apprehended no need of interference. she knew that lady rosamond would fulfil her father's wishes. she was aware that the affectionate daughter would return his confidence, even at the greatest sacrifice a woman can make. the noble nature of lady douglas felt deep sympathy for her gentle relative--a vague uneasiness filled her mind. some moments later when lady rosamond appeared in a rich and elegant dinner costume not a trace of emotion was visible. its recent effects had entirely disappeared. lady douglas had found an opportunity to form an estimate of the strength of character which sustained the apparently gentle and passive maiden. at the dinner table of government house everyone seemed to vie in good humored gaiety and flow of spirited, animating conversation. each tried to please. all clouds of despondency vanished upon this occasion. sir howard always set the example. pressing cares of state, perplexing questions, and endless grievances, took speedy and ignominous flight when he entered the family circle. all was unrestrained pleasure and genial delight on this evening. lady rosamond was seated beside the gay and attractive secretary, who was endeavoring to engage his companion as an ally against the more formidable onset of captain douglas. she did fairly surprise the latter by the earnestness of her replies, her forcible expressions, and the weighty arguments upheld by superior judgment. lieutenant trevelyan, as he converses with lady douglas, betrays no outward feeling. he shows no preference for lady rosamond, being more frequently the companion and attendant of mary douglas, who, in trusting friendship, reposes in her young friend a happy confidence. despite this assumed ease on the part of guy trevelyan, the keen interest hitherto exhibited by mr. howe has lost none of its freshness. the charm still lingers. all hope has not fled, though the light is in the uncertain future. in lady rosamond the well concerted plans of the secretary find no compromise. dreading an exposure of her weakness she has thrown around her a formidable barrier which the most deadly shafts cannot penetrate. in the possession of this defence she can withstand the united efforts of a lengthy siege. upon all those operations she can look grimly on and bid defiance. mr. howe felt this as he tried to force an entrance to the heart of this lovely maiden to wrest from her, if possible, a secret that would give a hopeful assurance to his projects. an incident shortly afterwards occurred which forever banished those thoughts from his mind, leaving no further room for doubt; still the fact cannot be overlooked, that the spirit which pervaded the private secretary of sir howard douglas, was fraught with generosity and true manliness. one evening as captain douglas and the latter were indulging in a quiet chat the conversation turned upon lady rosamond. "she is indeed possessed of remarkable strength of character, which is the more surprising from the natural timidity and gentleness of her disposition," remarked captain douglas. "i have greatly admired her of late, and have, on more than one occasion tried to study the depths of her nature," returned mr. howe, with sudden earnestness. he was bent upon disclosing further plans to his friend when the latter exclaimed: "by jove! gerald bereford is a lucky fellow, to win the lady rosamond as his future bride." a look of startled surprise betrayed the excited feelings of mr. howe, leading captain douglas to remark: "look here, old chap, one would be apt to imagine that _you_ were deeply smitten were they now to get a glimpse of your face." mr. howe smiled. "yes," continued charles douglas, "her ladyship is to marry her cousin, gerald bereford, shortly after her arrival in england." this was certainly a new aspect of affairs. mr. howe now viewed the matter in another light, yet he could not heartily respond. vainly he strove to banish these thoughts, silently murmuring "poor trevelyan!" chapter xii. change. we now arrive at the period when many changes are about to take place. the gayest and most gallant regiment ever stationed in fredericton was under orders to be in readiness for departure. this was a source of much regret to the citizens, who shared in the extravagant scenes of gaiety so lavishly furnished. the sportsmen of fredericton lamented the fact with deep regret. we cannot let this opportunity pass to relate an incident showing to what excess horse racing was carried in those days. captain h----, an officer of the above named regiment, a true sporting character, owned a stud of the best thorough-breds in america. he annually spent an immense income in horse racing and various sports. in the meantime there lived in the city of st. john a coachman named larry stivers. if ever any individual sacrificed his entire heart and soul to the management, training and nature of horses, it was the self same larry. though possessed of limited means, no privation was too great in order to gratify such demands. a race was finally agreed upon between captain h---- and this remarkable individual, which in the horse records of new brunswick has no precedent, the case being unparalleled at home or abroad. one fine morning in march, , the magnificent team of horses, driven by the captain, made its appearance in the market square, st. john. after the lapse of a few moments a second team arrived and was drawn up aside the former. no inquiry was made as to the ownership of the latter. everybody recognized it as the turnout of larry stivers. but the most remarkable feature of the proceeding, that excited curiosity, was the slight construction of the sleighs. it could scarcely be conceived that they would stand the trying test of the proposed race. but they did. each driver having purchased a bundle of whips, jumped into his seat. the word was given. off they went at full speed, going the first nine miles over bare ground. the news spread over the city of st. john with almost incredible rapidity. excitement filled the mind of everybody. no telegraphic despatches could furnish details as at the present. on they trotted side by side over the smooth surface of the st. john river, which course had been taken after the first nine miles. whips were freely used upon the flagging animals. sometimes captain h---- kept ahead, in another minute larry was quite a distance in advance. on, on the infuriated animals raced to the heavy lashes of their merciless drivers. whip after whip was broken; still on they went over the glittering surface, the only sound the ceaseless crackling of whips and the ring of hoofs upon the still frosty atmosphere. about nine miles from fredericton, as those heartless sportsmen were madly urging on their jaded beasts, a well-known lumber merchant of the town was accosted by the leader demanding a whip, which, one is sorry to acknowledge, was given. they had used the whole bundle, and mercilessly begged for more. still on they came, the exhausted animals panting and ready to fall. the goal must be reached. fredericton must be the only stopping place. one at least was to be disappointed. four miles have yet to be passed. larry stivers is ahead, with visions of hopeful victory before him. he is suddenly stopped. one of the brave animals dropped dead on the spot. hope instantly vanished. captain h---- wins the race, while the former arrives shortly after his contestant with the dead animal upon the sleigh. fredericton is reached. a distance of eighty-five miles is trotted in six hours and thirty minutes, inclusive of twenty minutes for rest and dinner. this wonderful feat caused general astonishment. hundreds drove from fredericton to meet the contestants, while crowds gathered to see the effect thus produced upon the poor exhausted animals. soldiers were in attendance upon their arrival, almost dragging them up the bank. being rubbed and dosed they were soon restored. the horse that dropped had been substituted for the famous "tanner," and not having sufficient training was unequal to the task. the surviving animal, belonging to larry stivers, afterwards became one of the best and fastest horses in the province. this incident is not introduced to interest horsemen, but merely to show how far men's judgment may be led astray by the force of such ruling passions. to return to our narrative. hearty demonstrations were participated in by the citizens in testimony of the appreciation of the military. balls were given, dinners, speeches and testimonials. no efforts remained untried to express deep sympathy. great was the joy at government house when captain douglas informed the family of lieutenant trevelyan's being transferred to the succeeding regiment. colonel trevelyan had obtained this change at the request of sir howard and lady douglas. though a favorite in the nd regiment, lieutenant trevelyan's character did not harmonize with those of his brother officers--a circumstance that did not escape the notice of his excellency. the matter formed the subject of correspondence between the latter and colonel trevelyan, resulting in the announcement previously made by captain douglas. much delight shone on every countenance. lady douglas congratulated her young friend. mary douglas testified her joy with childish gaiety. pioneer johnnie looked forward to another sylvan pilgrimage with boyish glee. merriment had exchanged places with murmuring and regret. the secretary alone remained in a state bordering on hesitation. he would indeed miss his boyish companion, yet the sense of his presence gave pain. though not expressed by word or action, he was aware of the deep and passionate attachment which lieutenant trevelyan had formed for lady rosamond seymour. he was aware of the hopeless result of this knowledge, and felt a sense of relief in the thought that changing scenes and new acquaintances might claim attention and heal the wound which otherwise would remain fresh and painful. the arrival of the st regiment was, as customary on such occasions, celebrated by a general muster of the citizens. the york county militia presented a fine soldierly appearance. the grenadiers were indeed worthy of the tribute paid to their manly form and graceful bearing. conspicuous was the rising favorite, vivian yorke. his flashing eye, regular features, broad, intellectual forehead, and firmly chiselled lips, received many compliments as he stood beside his companions. lieutenant trevelyan, in the military staff of his excellency, also was not allowed to pass unnoticed. it was a remarkable coincidence that on this occasion, as the crowd bore down upon the company, lieutenant trevelyan was nearly in line with the young grenadier officer. a thoughtless young lady, standing near, exclaimed hastily to her companion: "fanny, how much that young officer resembles mr. yorke." the remark being overheard by both parties, caused slight embarrassment, accompanied by a boyish blush from lieutenant trevelyan. though an intimacy was formed between those young gentlemen, no allusion was made to the circumstance until many years afterwards, when mr. yorke was in england transacting some important political business, he was laughingly reminded of the affair by a gentleman in the prime of manhood--no longer a blushing young officer. mr. yorke and sir guy trevelyan joined heartily in the joke, the former remarking that this young lady must have been colorblind in respect to their eyes. many such comparisons were made rendering defective the perception of the fair judge, and causing much amusement to the assembled company. but this is a digression which the reader will excuse. lieutenant trevelyan was now serving in h. m. st regiment under the command of colonel creagh--a veteran of waterloo--who was highly pleased with the flattering testimonial he had received from major mcnair, relative to the irreproachable character borne by the young favorite. a heavy cloud lowered over government house. its inmates were once more wrapped in gloomy thought. mary douglas already felt the pang of separation. lady rosamond was to return home. her visit had been lengthened beyond the term allowed; now she must obey the summons without further delay. painful thoughts crossed her ladyship's mind as she made the necessary preparations. her fate was already sealed. she could not turn aside the resistless torrent that marked the course over which she must be borne by the skill of the fearless and merciless pilot, lady bereford. in the outward conduct of lady rosamond none could detect the spirit which actuated her feelings. lady douglas closely watched every movement. were it not for the emotion which the former betrayed on receiving the contents of lady bereford's letter, would it not have occurred to her to suspect the heart of lady rosamond. it was this circumstance which gave concern to lady douglas. she kept her own counsel, yet was impressed with the belief that sir thomas seymour, in conjunction with lady bereford, was forcing her favorite into a marriage that was distasteful to her wishes. the longer her ladyship dwelt upon the matter the more deeply she felt concerned; but knowing the inflexible temper of sir thomas and the influence of lady bereford, she concluded that the case was indeed a hopeless one. mary douglas was the only being to whom lady rosamond had confided the secret relative to her father's wishes. some days preceding her departure the beautiful features of the young girl bore traces of grief. in the arms of her fond companion she had wept sad and bitter tears. "this shall be the last exhibition of my feelings," vehemently cried lady rosamond, "you will never again see a tear of mine, at least from the same cause, but darling promise me now that you will never divulge my secret?" "accept my promise, rosamond," returned mary, impressing a fond kiss upon the lips of the gentle and loving girl. the promise thus made was faithfully kept to be referred to in after years as a dream of the past which was still fresh in the beauty and loveliness of true friendship. lieutenant trevelyan bore the knowledge of lady rosamond's departure with firm composure. he was kind, genial and entertaining. the strange and uneasy expression came and went with no remark save that it gave much annoyance to the kind hearted secretary. the latter saw that no advances were made on the part of the young lieutenant. her ladyship would depart while the story would remain untold. it is needless to enter into the details attendant upon lady rosamond's removal from government house. sad and tender were the scenes. mary douglas could not repress the stifling sobs and outbursts of grief. true to the previous determination, her ladyship had schooled herself for the trying moment. under the tender care of sir howard, the lovely girl took leave of fredericton, leaving behind those whom she fondly loved. she carried with her many reminiscences of the scenes and trials through which she had passed never to be forgotten throughout her lifetime. in the meantime a question arose in political affairs which required the mature deliberation of sir howard. the boundary dispute was now argued within every district with an earnestness that showed the importance of the cause. the present grievance had grown out of a former one. in the treaty of , the description of boundary limits between the united states and the colonies was vague. owing to a want of proper procedure, england and america merely took their limits from a certain point on the coast, one choosing to the right the other to the left. the interior boundary was the watershed dividing the sources of the connecticut and st. croix rivers from those which emptied into the st. lawrence. by this the americans gained all the land bordering their own rivers, while the british had the banks of all the rivers extending to the sea coast. breach after breach was made, yearly inroads upon british territory were effected, until the free navigation of the st. lawrence was claimed, leaving the colonies without a frontier. in the state of maine, a hostile feeling influenced the entire population. a spirit of fiery independence asserted itself in the face of the british government. sir howard kept his eye on the stealthy movements of his disorderly neighbors. he was not to be outwitted by such aggressions; he was determined that neither colonist nor american should transgress; his rights were to be respected. a new brunswicker had been prosecuted for attempting to interfere. equal justice was to be extended to all. the filibusters were not to be pacified; they abused england and her representatives in the most violent and abusive terms. the grievances of maine must be redressed. governor lincoln ordered out the militia to the frontier, while an army of filibusters was ready to take possession of the territory. they thought to work a plan to throw blame upon sir howard, in the hope that the english troops might be led to engage in a conflict with the american militia; but the experience of the british representative served him aright, as on former occasions. baker, an unprincipled filibuster now resolved to force proceedings, rushed into british ground and tauntingly hoisted the american flag. at this juncture of affairs it was expected that english troops would interfere and a general fight would be the result. sir howard had kept the troops at a respectable distance, where he could order them up at short notice; but he had no such intention. imagine the surprise of both parties when a constable, having arrived, knocked down the flag and took baker prisoner. heavy imprecations fell upon such a course of conduct. federal troops marched to the frontier, a circumstance of which the colonists took no notice. sir howard took further steps; he ordered the prisoner to be brought to trial before the supreme court at fredericton, where he was found guilty, with sentence of a heavy fine. threatening attitudes were assumed by the leaders of this dispute, but to these sir howard paid not the least attention. messages were sent by governor lincoln with urgent demands for baker's release without any effect. they had to treat with one whose character was marked by firm determination. an american officer was also sent urging the necessity of the release of the prisoner. he was not granted an interview, but was kindly cared for in the mess-room of the st, where the officers gave him a hearty reception by a grand dinner, ordered expressly for the occasion. despite the swaggering and menacing tone of this guest, the evening was spent in successive rounds of mirth and exciting gaiety. songs, toasts and speeches greeted the ears of the envoy, and amidst these he almost forgot the object of his mission. at last the fine was paid. it was not until the matter was finally settled, by the decision of the king of the netherlands, that comparative peace was restored. this chapter now ends, having described the principal events that marked the year . chapter xiii. chesley manor--marriage of lady rosamond. we are again introduced to lady rosamond, now reinstated in the home of her childhood. a sense of gratitude is awakened within her as she fondly gazes upon the old familiar scenes surrounding chesley manor. the quaint old structure was an exact specimen of an english manor house in the early part of the seventeenth century, having been designed by an architect of the royal household in the reign of james the first, whence it still continued in the possession of its illustrious descendants. the style adapted to the above named structure was more strictly domestic than defensive. it was built in quadrangular form, containing only one large court, upon which opened the stately hall, chapel, and principal apartments. though not commanding the imposing aspect and grandeur of bereford castle, chesley manor had an air of true gentility in keeping with that of its owner. lofty windows, reaching to the ground, looked out upon the gardens, which were enclosed by a high wall. the period in which the present edifice was constructed was that of the best style of english architecture, contrasting the more elegant and graceful manor house with the frowning keep and embattled walls of the olden castle. surrey, with its old historic associations, was a fitting abode for the dreamy and poetic nature of the lovely, high-born maiden. the adjoining districts, with vale and meadow, had a pleasing effect. long neglected parks and straggling decayed mansions, afforded ample scope for the fanciful flights of her ladyship's fond imagination. sir thomas was indeed happy in thus having his daughter once more to brighten the home so long desolate and lonely. he enjoyed the perpetual sunshine of her bright presence. he loved to caress his beautiful child and admire her sweet and bewitching charms. lady rosamond seemed happy when in her father's presence. she returned his tender endearments with childish and playful gestures; she brought sunshine in her path in which the flowers of affection bloomed with luxuriant beauty. she was esteemed by the train of domestics and functionaries who performed the duties of the household. this fact somewhat conciliated the young mistress of chesley manor. her grateful nature could not view these matters without feeling their import. wandering through the exquisitely arranged suites of spacious rooms which had been renovated with a desire to meet her approbation, lady rosamond could not but experience a pang of heartfelt sorrow. parental love overcame her weakness. sir thomas alone possessed the key that gained access to her feelings. he alone could turn aside the channel of her resisting thoughts and mark the course for the tide of conflicting torrents as they surge madly on. maude bereford is once more cheered in the daily companionship of lady rosamond. in their girlish and pretty ways those lovely girls form a pleasing picture to grace the interior and surroundings of chesley manor. maude has a gentle and lovable disposition which wins the admiration of both sexes. though not a beauty, she is truly beautiful--beautiful in heart, beautiful in soul. none see this mental beauty more clearly than the young mistress of the manor. the gentle nature and simple-minded heart of maude bereford sees in her cousin the sweetness and worth which are so fondly adored by her brother gerald. that lady rosamond sees in her future husband all that can make the heart truly happy is a source of constant delight to her loving cousin. maude has not the keen perception of the nature of the human heart. lady bereford was sanguine over the result of her diplomatic tact. there lay no obstruction in the path which she had marked out for gerald bereford. no rivals had given cause for offence. lady rosamond had readily encouraged the advances made by her suitor. it was now a settled conclusion. the fact had been communicated throughout the country. sir thomas had already received hearty congratulations on the brilliant prospects of his only daughter. the event was eagerly anticipated in the fashionable circles of high life. many high-born maidens felt a tinge of jealousy as they listened to the brilliant preparations awaiting the marriage of the future lord bereford. his courtly manners, pleasing graces, and handsome appearance, were the comment of many. his proud privileges as peer of the realm, his princely castle and great wealth, furnished themes for eulogy. while the great event was pending, and general curiosity was awakened in the course of proceedings, the lady rosamond alone remained passive. she calmly listened to the different reports of those to whom was entrusted the management of affairs with an ease that was perplexing in its simplicity. a genial smile repaid any effort to please. she gave advice with a gentle deference that surprised her most intimate friends and companions. with calmness and subdued feelings did her ladyship examine the costly satins and laces scattered in lavish profusion, and being in readiness to assume the most courtly and elegant costumes at the sanction of the fair enchantress. maude bereford was radiant with joy, the delightful prospect was at hand. bereford castle was to receive her dearest rosamond. a splendid house was to be in readiness in the suburbs of london, where she would revel in the delights of fashionable society and the daily companionship of lady rosamond. gerald bereford looked forward to the consummation of his hopes with fond solicitude. having received from lady rosamond a quiet appreciation of his tenderness and deep love, he dared not to question closely the motives which actuated her. sometimes he had momentary doubts concerning the entire reciprocation of her ladyship's trust and confidence, which caused considerable anxiety, but the sweet, pensive smile which asserted itself was sufficient to drive out a host of smothered grievances. when lady rosamond promised to become the wife of gerald bereford she did so from a true sense of duty and affection towards her only parent. for him she would make the great sacrifice. did the occasion demand, she would sacrifice her life on his behalf. in reality she had made such a test of her faith when she made her betrothal vow, bartering love, happiness, and life. yes; life, with its true enjoyments, by this sacrifice, would become a mocking, bitter trial, to which even death were gladly welcome. yet the noble girl shrank not from the task which the stern voice of duty had assigned. she would bear it without a murmur. none save mary douglas should know the depths of feeling of which her nature was capable. gerald bereford would acknowledge the daily attention of a kind and dutiful wife. no human being should know a secret that was to her more than life--a soul within--a burning, smouldering fire, around which clings the shuddering form of outraged hope. lady rosamond has kept her secret, therefore the writer will keep it in respect to her ladyship's inward sanctity. the reader may have gained it; if not, dear reader, you will in the end be rewarded for your patience by a disclosure. in the meantime let us follow her ladyship through all the perplexing moments of her unhappy existence, admiring the true courage and grateful sentiments which sustain her. the day appointed for the eventful ceremony had arrived. cards of invitation having been issued to the most distinguished nobility throughout the kingdom, a vast assemblage of expectant guests filled the seats and aisles of the ancient gothic cathedral in which the marriage was about to be solemnized. happy smiles beamed upon all faces as they glanced around the handsome edifice so beautifully decorated for the occasion. flowers and garlands were lavishly strewn around, scattered upon the floor, upon the steps, upon the way-side; literally all space was crowned with flowers. gerald bereford was truly a prepossessing bridegroom, worthy of loving and being loved in return. his truthful countenance was beaming with manly love. he was now ready to pronounce those vows which in his heart met a ready response. lady rosamond and her train of lovely bridesmaids have arrived. hundreds of spectators are anxious to catch a passing glimpse of the beautiful bride as she is led to the altar by sir thomas seymour, who gazes with loving tenderness upon the object so soon to be taken from his heart and home. the feverish flush of excitement upon the transparent complexion of the bride lent additional aid to her matchless charms. lady rosamond is indeed a creature of surpassing loveliness. the soft texture of white satin that floats in bewitching folds of drapery around the faultless form is heightened in effect by an intermixture of costly lace and flashing jewels. the bridal veil, with its coronet of diamonds and orange blossoms, conceals the features so passive in the efforts to conceal the emotions which are struggling within the bosom of the fair one as she slowly utters those vows which, in accordance with her former resolve, she will earnestly strive to perform. conscience awakens in her a deep shudder by setting forth painful convictions of promises given where her heart beats no response. but lady rosamond felt relief from the thought of her efforts to do what she could to atone for this knowledge. her husband would be happy in her presence if not her love. those were the thoughts that occupied the lovely bride as she accepted the congratulations of the crowd who gathered around her. a pleasing smile greeted every one of the guests; even lady bereford was satisfied with the grateful acknowledgement. the bridegroom was a happy man. he adored his lovely bride. he looked upon her as the perfect embodiment of love and truth. such were the sentiments that stimulated gerald bereford as his wife was received into society with all the eclat attendant upon rank, wealth and beauty. her appearance on several occasions was hailed with universal delight. her unassuming manner, childlike disposition and elegant grace made friends at every footstep. jealousy found no favor in the wake of lady rosamond. her presence was sufficient warning to the green-eyed monster to make hasty retreat. lord bereford took a fond interest in his newly found daughter. he had always loved lady rosamond as his own child. she reminded him of the lovely sister who shared in his youthful joys. maria bereford was the favorite sister of his early days; her daughter was a tender link in the chain of memory. lady rosamond fully returned the affection borne her by lord bereford. she found a strange relief when sitting by his side listening to the stories which brought before her vivid conceptions of her childhood and its happy past never to return--the days when her heart was free to roam in its wayward and fanciful nights full of ardour and the bouyant aspirations of unfettered youth. gerald bereford proved indeed a tender and loving husband. his heart was always ready to upbraid him if he were not ready to meet the slightest wish of his young wife. every kindness that could be bestowed on lady rosamond daily suggested itself to the mind of her thoughtful husband. he was only happy in her presence--she was the sunshine of his heart, of his life, of his soul. without lady rosamond this world was a blank--a region "where light never enters, hope never comes." nor was the fact unknown to the dutiful and amiable wife. it grieved her deeply to witness such an exhibition of true love and tenderness without its receiving equal return. with heroic bravery she endeavored to reward her husband by little acts of thoughtful kindness greeting his return from the turmoil of political struggles. pleasing surprises often met his eye when least expected. many pretty trinkets made expressly for his use, by the fair hands of lady rosamond, were placed in careless profusion around his private apartments. these trifling incidents were an hundredfold more worth to gerald bereford than the most well-timed and flattering acknowledgments of the many who daily courted his friendship. thus did her ladyship strive to make amends to her husband without having recourse to deceit. she returned his caresses, not with a fervent love, but with a feeling that such generous love exacted her sympathy. in the tenderness of her heart some recompense must be made. would she ever learn to love her husband as he indeed deserved to be loved? when would the hour arrive when she could say: "gerald, i love you with my entire heart and soul; i live for you alone; none other can possess the great love i bear for you, my husband." those questions were frequently present in the mind of the devoted wife of gerald bereford. but he knew it not. he was in blissful ignorance of the fire within as he fondly dreamed of the pleasing graces of his lovely wife. he had no reason to be otherwise than happy. lady rosamond bereford was above suspicion. she had no desire to possess popularity outside her own household. the flattery of the opposite sex was lost upon her. the false smile of base and unprincipled men found no favor in the sight of her ladyship. she discountenanced many practices sanctioned by the usages of good society. virtue was the true criterion upon which was based her ladyship's judgment. it is almost needless to add that congratulations reached lady rosamond from the family at government house in fredericton. it was not a matter of surprise to lady douglas. she had too much confidence in the character of her relative to doubt her resolution. mary douglas fondly clung to the hope that her companion would, by some unforeseen power, avert the threatening blow. she betrayed no astonishment. though daily expecting the sickening news of the marriage, the private secretary of sir howard almost staggered under the sudden weight of anxiety which possessed him when captain douglas made the startling disclosure, with the accompanying remark: "jove! i always said that gerald bereford was a lucky fellow." the thoughtful gaze of mr. howe as he stood in mute and silent astonishment, raised a laugh from his companion, with the addition of a second remark, implying that her ladyship must have made sad havoc upon the heart of a certain individual, judging from the effect produced by the announcement of her marriage. true indeed! lady rosamond had made havoc upon the heart and affection of a _certain individual_, as captain douglas roughly remarked, but not the one to whom he made direct allusion. the heart that suffered most will be the last to acknowledge. "heaven pity poor trevelyan," murmured mr. howe. chapter xiv. new friends--the st--social recreation. fredericton society was now becoming amply compensated for the loss sustained by the departure of the nd regiment. the gallant col. creagh had become a general favorite. waterloo, with its bloody scenes and brilliant victory, was still fresh in his memory. he never wearied in relating these with fond pride, while his heart was fired with an enthusiasm that stirred every vein with renewed patriotic impulses. the gentlemanly conduct that marked the officers of the st, soon won the esteem of the citizens, and placed them on confidential and friendly terms within a short time after their arrival. though not distinguished by the sporting propensities of their predecessors, the general tone of society received a loftier impetus, social intercourse on a moderate basis was the general feature of the present. balls and parties were of greater importance than the sports of the turf or field. it must not be inferred the st regiment was quiet and inactive from the facts thus stated. on the contrary, they were gay, dashing and animated, full of the vigour and energy of military life; but the comparison affects them not when we say that the sporting reputation of the nd regiment was unprecedented in military records. among those deserving notice was jasper creagh. he was a winning and agreeable youth, displaying much of the daring and military spirit of his distinguished sire. many hearts beat faster when they listened to the manly voice of the young soldier. within a very short space of time an intimacy sprang up between the latter and lieutenant trevelyan, who more than sustained the very flattering reputation forwarded by major mcnair. jasper creagh found much pleasure in the company of his newly made friend, while the observant colonel was well pleased by the preference which showed such judgment on the part of his eldest son. frequent allusions were made to the marriage of lady rosamond. this brilliant match had afforded much subject for gossip in the higher social circles. lieutenant trevelyan quietly listened to the earnest congratulations showered upon this union with apparent interest, often replying to the inquiries of jasper creagh with marked concern. his secret was unknown, he could brave the matter with heroic fortitude, while perhaps in after years, time will have effaced those fond memories. it was a bitter trial, but had he known that hearts more liable to succumb to the frailties of nature had borne up bravely against the struggling conflicts of feeling, the thought would have afforded some relief. captain douglas in his boisterous jocose remarks had unconsciously been the means of aiming many unerring and merciless shafts at the heart of the despondent lieutenant. mr. howe, on many occasions, would generously have forced his companion to desist, but the sacrifice would have been too great. it were better that the secret remain untold even at the expense of a few such stabs. in spite of the maneuvering conversational tactics of mr. howe, captain douglas could not resist the vein of humor which flowed in incessant remark upon those with whom it came in contact. "lady rosamond made sad havoc in fredericton," was his endless theme. "look at howe, judging from the length of his face the matter has assumed a serious aspect. there is some doubt as to the exact state of trevelyan's heart. if the face be taken as an index to the mind, we will pronounce his case as a milder type of the same disease." many like jokes were passed around by the incorrigible charles douglas, but to all guy trevelyan was invulnerable. he betrayed no sign of the inward tempest raging within, save by the almost imperceptible expression which had attracted the scrutinizing eye of the generous hearted mr. howe. the band of the st was a great source of amusement to the citizens. it daily furnished music on the officers' square, which was entirely free to every peaceably disposed citizen. another attractive feature was the frequent sights of numerous barges rowing up and down the river. the gay strains of music that floated upon the air, the flutter of bright-colored pennons, the waving of streamers, bright faces, merry hearts, and joyous song, made the scene both enjoyable and imposing. frequently the excursionists landed on the islands above the city, enjoying the hours in roaming around the woody precincts, in merry conversation, outdoor sport, or the pleasure of the dance. thus did the citizens spend the greater number of the pleasant summer evenings in the indebtedness of their military friends. the band-master stood high in the esteem of all ranks and classes. mr. hoben had indeed succeeded in filling the position occupied by his predecessor in relation with the philharmonic society, sparing no pains in the instruction of every member. the above named musical organization had now attained a degree of proficiency that was manifest on every public appearance. mr. yorke, of whom mention was made on several former occasions, was a great favorite in musical circles. his taste was consulted on the arrangement of many programmes intended for public dinners, and such demonstrations as called forth a ready response from the general public. the musical abilities of vivian yorke were afterwards kept in constant requisition. the various schemes pushed forward by sir howard douglas for the advancement of the welfare of the province were heartily endorsed by the people. steady advances were being made in every pursuit, while that of agriculture was foremost. societies were formed with a view to adopt measures the most favorable for the advancement of a cause to which all others were secondary in the estimation of sir howard. york county agricultural society, at that time, was composed of a body of influential members, whose places have never since been filled by any who took such a deep interest in those matters. such names as those of the hon. messrs. baillie, odell, street, black, saunders, bliss, peters, shore, minchin, and many others, grace the pages of the yearly reports issued by the society. an event occurred about this time which had considerable effect upon the social atmosphere of fredericton. the old part of the officers' barracks, known as the mess-room, was completely destroyed by fire. it was in the depth of winter, on a very cold night, and many experienced much exposure and fatigue. the promptness displayed, both by military and citizens, may still be remembered by some of the older inhabitants. on this occasion a poor soldier would have been suffocated were it not for the presence of mind displayed by mr. yorke, who, on hearing the groans of the distressed man, burst in the door and bore him out amid stifling volumes of smoke and flame. much inconvenience arose from the fact of being deprived of comfortable quarters at such an inclement season; but the citizens soon had the pleasure of seeing the officers' mess-room of the st stationed in the brick building situated on the corner of queen and regent streets, where they had procured temporary accommodation until another and more commodious building should be erected on the site of the former. it was only by such fires that the town of fredericton succeeded in presenting a more imposing appearance. small two-story wooden houses, with smaller door and windows, occupied queen street with an air of ease, seeming to defy progress, and only to be removed by the devouring elements which occasionally made havoc upon those wooden structures. the present season was remarkable for the many skating tournaments which were held upon the ice in the vicinity of fredericton. among those who distinguished themselves were captain hansard, an officer retired from the service, and a young gentleman afterwards known in connection with the crown land department and later as a member of the executive government, yet an active member of the legislative council. the most astonishing feats were performed during the time thus occupied. the officers of the st were superior skaters, among whom was major booth whose remarkable evolutions gained great notoriety. it is a matter of question whether the feats of the present day to which our attention is sometimes directed, could in anywise compete with those of the days of which we write. lieutenant trevelyan had acquired a proficiency in the art that was worthy of admiration. in this healthy pastime he took secret delight. it afforded moments when he could steal miles away and give himself up to those quiet reveries from which the dreamer finds relief. to a sensitive and poetic mind, what is more enjoyable than the silent hours of solitude when the soul is revelling in the delights of idealism; its sweet commune with kindred spirits; its longing and fanciful aspirations? who that is not possessed of those precious gifts of the soul can realize the happiness that guy trevelyan derived from this source? he could, as it were, divest himself of earthy material and live in the ethereal essence of divine communion. in those flights of bliss the loved form of lady rosamond was ever near. her presence hallowed the path whereon he trod. none others invaded the sanctity of this realm of dreams. one soul was there--one being--alas! to wake in one realty. mary douglas was at all times a true sympathizer. she always took a deep interest in her friend guy. she liked to sit beside him and recall little scenes wherein lady rosamond took part. her merry ringing laugh showed the purity of the mind within. together they spent many hours in interesting and amusing conversation. not a thought save that of true friendship entered the mind of either. from this alone arose the full confidence alike reposed in each. mary douglas was even more beautiful than lady rosamond. her features were formed as regularly as a model of an angelo; her expression might be a life-long study for a davinci, a rubens, or a reynolds. yet such beauty had not power to fan anew the smouldering fire which consumed the vitality of lieutenant trevelyan's existence. on the other hand this lovely girl saw not in her companion anything that could create any feeling akin to love. such was the entire confidence thus reposed that they were amused at any trifling remarks of those who daily summed up what evidence supported their conjectures. frequently mr. howe turned his attention to the affairs of the unfortunate lieutenant, vainly wishing that such an attachment might be formed and likewise reciprocated. he was certain of the fact that guy trevelyan was worthy the hand of the most distinguished and beautiful. he was aware that sir howard entertained the highest regard to the son of his old friend colonel trevelyan who, as a baronet and gentleman, had a reputation worthy his manly son. the arguments advanced by mr. howe were by no means lessened when he wondered if lady rosamond could possibly have gained the secret which possessed guy trevelyan. he held too high an opinion of her ladyship to harbor the thought that she would triumph in the conquest thus gained on the eve of her marriage with gerald bereford. ah no! lady rosamond could not have known it. so reasoned the thoughtful secretary. in the meantime lady rosamond is enjoying the constant whirl and gaiety of london life. her husband is immersed in the broil of parliamentary affairs. as a representative of his native borough, he is responsible for every grievance, real or imaginary, under which his constituents are daily groaning. the party with whom he was associated was daily becoming unpopular--a crisis was at hand--a dissolution was expected. another appeal to the country would probably take place. her ladyship was not a politician; she understood not the measure so proudly discussed by the wives of statesmen and representatives. still she could not but feel a desire to share in the interests of her husband. in the bustle and turmoil of busy life she felt grateful. excitement fed her inquietude; it bore her along upon the breast of the dizzy waves. it was well that lady rosamond was thus occupied. she gave grand and sumptuous dinner parties, and entertained her guests with balls on a scale of princely magnificence. her luncheons were indeed sufficient to cheer the most despondent and misanthropic. gaiety in its varied forms predominated over lady rosamond's establishment. gerald bereford was proud of the homage poured at the feet of his beautiful wife. her praise was music in his ears. he listened to the flattering courtesies with childlike pleasure. her happiness was his. often when overcome with the cares and anxiety of public affairs a smile from her ladyship had a charm like magic. a quiet caress was sure to arouse him from the deepest apathy. lady rosamond strove hard to repay her doting husband. every attention was paid to his wishes. he knew not what it was to suffer the slightest neglect. gerald bereford was happy. his happiness was often the subject of comment of the associates of his club. his wife's unassuming beauty, her grace and virtues, attracted many who were solicitous to cultivate her acquaintance. "how did you manage to secure such a prize, bereford? she is the most beautiful woman in the united kingdom," exclaimed a gentleman to gerald bereford, after being introduced to lady rosamond at a ball given by the french ambassador, where, without any conscious effort, she had been pronounced the most attractive amidst a bewildering array of princely rank, wealth, dignity, youth and beauty. none could deny the assertion. the rich and elegant black velvet robes worn by her ladyship displayed the beautiful transparency and form of her snowy arms and shoulders. flashing jewels lent a glow to the lovely face, reflecting their purity and priceless worth. in the midst of her greatest triumphs lady rosamond felt her misery the most unendurable. then she experienced the cruel mockeries of the world; _then_ she felt pangs that the glare and display of wealth must cover--that the tribute of homage vainly sought to satisfy. at those moments a picture of never-fading reality would flit before her mental vision in mocking array--a picture in which her ladyship knelt with expressive and silent gaze at the feet of the stern monitress, duty, whose defiant scowl denies appeal from the speaking depths of the mournful dark eyes. two forms are discerned in the background; the foremost reveals the features of gerald bereford casting fond glances towards the kneeling figure in the foreground. duty wears a smile as she beckons his approach with tokens of deep appreciation. there still lingers another form. whose can it be? can we not recognize that face, though indistinct, in the dim outline? duty steps between and intercepts our view. this is the picture from which lady rosamond vainly tried to withdraw her thoughts, repeating the consoling words with saddened emphasis: "everything is ordered for the best." chapter xv. political life. while lady rosamond received the homage of a thousand hearts and plunged into the ceaseless round of busy life, her husband was engaged as a fierce combatant in earnest conflicts in the political arena within the limits of parliament. enclosed by vast and wondrous piles of stately architecture, the champions fight for their respective boroughs with untiring energy and vehement fiery ardour. the ministry, headed by the duke of wellington, stood much in need of all the force which it could bring to bear upon the rallying strength of the opposing element. among the latter was arrayed mr. bereford. his penetrating judgment and shrewd activity were considered an important acquisition to the ranks of his colleagues. his masterly and eloquent harangues never failed to force deep conviction and prove the justice of his principles. even lady rosamond felt a secret pride in listening to those earnest appeals which disclosed the honest motives by which they were actuated. though not gifted with the brilliant powers displayed in the conversational genius of those women who had evidently devoted much attention to the study of politics, her ladyship tried to feel an interest in the measures for which her husband had devoted many of his waking hours, his superior intellectual powers, his fond ambition. in this source she seemed to find a sense of relief. she never flinched when any exaction was required. if she could make some recompense for such pure and fervent love, no matter at what cost or sacrifice, gladly would the conscientious principles of lady rosamond accept the terms. her marked concern and unremitting attention failed not to elicit admiration from the premier, who, despite his stern, disciplined nature, had not forgotten to pay tribute to the attractions of a beautiful woman. the iron duke indeed showed a decided preference for her ladyship. he was charmed with the sweet, unassuming, and childlike manner of the young matron, and took delight in contrasting these with the glaring and ostentatious demeanor of these high-minded and profound women with whom he daily mingled. lady rosamond repaid the gallant duke for such attention. she loved to engage him in earnest and animated conversation, and watch the fire that kindled the soul within by the light emitted from the deep flashing eye. she felt a deep interest in the stern old warrior from the endearing associations which his memory had woven around her. while in fredericton her ladyship had heard many stories in which her friends had also figured in close relation to the hero of a hundred fights. sir howard douglas had oftentimes entertained his family circle with a recital of such scenes. the friend of sir howard, colonel trevelyan, was also an actor in the great drama. but the last personage could not possibly cause any tender interest to the mind of lady rosamond. gerald bereford was opposed in principle to the present administration. he formed one of the strongest leaders of the opposition. his heart was in the work before him; he would not flinch from the responsibility. his haggard countenance often gave evidence of the spirit which influenced his actions; yet he wearied not. a mild reproof from his lovely wife would for the while have some effect, when he would devote all his leisure to her comfort and pastime, being fully repaid by the most simple caress or quiet smile. early in the next year an event followed which had a great effect both on political and social life. his majesty, george the fourth, had passed away from earth. among those within our acquaintance few there were who deeply regretted the circumstance. lady rosamond, in writing a friend, said: "we cannot indeed entertain any lasting regrets for one who inflicted such misery upon one of our sex. the unfortunate queen and her tragical end inspires me with a feeling bordering upon hate towards the author. as women we must feel it, but as women we must forgive." thus was the matter viewed by her ladyship, who now looked forward with happy anticipation to the approaching and brilliant pageantry. the "sailor king" sat peacefully on the throne of england. in the days of her childhood lady rosamond loved to climb upon the knee of a handsome nobleman--in truth a gallant prince. lovingly did she nestle against his manly breast with eager, childish confidence, throwing her beautiful silken ringlets over his shoulders in gleeful pride. many times had she kissed the lips of her royal patron, while he playfully designated her his "white rose of england." among the many beautiful trinkets she had received at his hands none were more valuable or precious than the jewelled locket bearing the simple inscription "william," appended to a miniature chain, which she had always worn around her neck in grateful remembrance. the kind-hearted prince had won the lovely child. kind memories can never be obliterated from kind hearts. lady rosamond in after years never forgot the sailor prince of her childhood days. the old admiral was proud of the attachment thus formed in his early career. he had entertained towards the generous prince a warm regard. in naval cruises they were often thrown in company, while on more than one occasion sir thomas had granted leave to obtain the service of his young friend for a lengthened cruise. it is not, therefore, a matter of surprise that lady rosamond hailed with rapturous delight the accession of the sailor prince as william the fourth of england. her hopes beat high as she thought of the approaching ceremony when she would once more be recognized by her old friend. has she outgrown his memory? or has he kept her still in view through each successive stage of life? many were the speculations formed within the mind of her ladyship as she made the elaborate preparation necessary for the intended reception. the day at length arrived. the king and queen were to receive the nobility of the realm. dukes, earls, viscounts, marquises, baronets, with all the titled members of their families, were to pass in array before the conscious glance and smile of majesty. the royal reception chamber blazed with dazzling splendour. titled courtiers in costly dresses of crimson, purple, and violet velvet, embroidered in gold, glittering with the many orders upon their breasts, while the jewelled hilt of the golden scabbards flashed in dazzling rays of light. these lined the apartment or moved to and fro at the summon of royalty. ladies of honor were grouped at respective distances from their sovereign mistress ready to obey her slightest behest. their costly robes, courtly grace, and distinguished appearance, befitted the noble blood which ran through their veins as proof of their present proud position. to a stranger the scene was impressive. on first entering the train of attendants and military display is sufficient to quell the most stout hearted. passing along with as much dignity as the person can, he is announced in loud stentorian tones by the lord chamberlain, who glances at the card thus presented. then advancing towards the throne, kneeling down, kissing the back of his majesty's hand, and passing along in the train of his predecessor forms the remaining part of the ceremony. during this time hundreds will have taken part in these proceedings, happy in the thought of having received a respectful bow from the grateful monarch in return for the deep and almost overpowering embarrassment that possesses the one taking part in those imposing ceremonies. the rising blush on lady rosamond's cheek showed the excitement that stirred the depths of her inward feelings. she was carried back to the happy child days when no shade hovered near; when no bitter concealment lurked in the recesses of her joyous heart; when her fond plans were openly discussed before the sailor prince with intense merriment and glee. vainly she sighed as she thought of what might have been. though in the present the inference was distasteful, her ladyship could not dismiss the subject. as she stands quietly awaiting her turn in the order of presentation, let us once more picture the beautiful face and form which have won our entire sympathy. lady rosamond has lost none of the beauty hitherto depicted in her charms. she is still lovely as when described while a guest at government house. her cheek has lost none of its roundness; the outline is full, striking, fresh and interesting; the expressive dark eyes have lost not their usual brilliancy, save a mournful tenderness that is more often betrayed than formerly; the lustrous black hair is wantonly revelling in all the luxuriance of its former beauty. time nor experience has not the ruthless power to desecrate such sacred charms. lady rosamond has yet to rejoice in these; she has yet to pluck the blossoms of happiness springing up from the soil of buried hope where seeds had been scattered by the unseen hand of mercy. well might gerald bereford have been fond of his wife as she approached the "sailor king," in her train of white satin and velvet sparkling with diamonds, with a grace bespeaking ease, trust and dignified repose. the announcement of lady rosamond bereford afforded striking proof of the warm-heartedness of his majesty, showing he did not forget his former white rose of england. his eagle eye detected the small jewelled gift almost concealed within the breast of her ladyship, as she lowly bent down to kiss the hand of her sovereign. a beautiful blush overspread the features of lady rosamond as she felt the directed gaze. "your ladyship has not forgotten the sharer of her childhood joys," exclaimed his majesty with expressive smile. a deep blush succeeded when the kneeling suppliant recovered sufficient self-possession to reply. "your majesty will pardon this occasion to acknowledge the great honor conferred by this tender allusion to a loving and loyal subject." in her blushing loveliness, lady rosamond received a fragrant and beautiful white rose from the hand of her liege sovereign as expressive of the desired continuation of his former regard and endearment. this was truly a remarkable moment in the life of her ladyship. she felt the true force and depth of friendship. if the favor of her monarch could give happiness, would she not exercise a large monopoly? yet there was happiness enjoined in the ceremony. his majesty was happy to meet his former friend and companion. her majesty the queen was happy to find one in whom her husband found so much to admire. gerald bereford was truly happy in having such royal favour extended towards the lovely being upon whom he lavished his fond love. these circumstances gave some relief to lady rosamond and taught her many lessons through suffering to which she could return with thankful gratitude for the bitter trials so heavily imposed. sometimes a feeling of remorse took possession of her ladyship as she looked upon the face of her husband and fancied that there rested a yearning, wistful look, a lingering for her truer sympathy. she sometimes felt that her husband also cherished his vain regrets, his moments of bitter conflicts when he tried to smother the unbidden thoughts that would thus arise. these fancies often roused lady rosamond to a sense of her duty with wholesome effect. this mark of royal favor was not lost upon lady rosamond. her majesty expressed a wish to receive the king's favorite among the ladies of her household. but the tearful eyes of the beautiful matron forbade any further mention. the german propensities of queen adelaide would not force any measure thus proposed. lady rosamond had full access to the royal household, receiving the confidence of her royal patroness with true grace. now began the struggle for reform in the parliament. throughout the kingdom arose the cry of reform which had been echoed from the second french revolution. among all classes arose the war note of reform. it sounded loud and high. it was borne over the continent. nothing but reform. reform of the house of commons was the subject discussed at every fireside. affairs had now reached a political crisis. the duke of wellington, with his unrestrained and high-bred principles of conservatism, could not brook such an innovation upon the time-honored laws and customs of the british constitution. he could not favor a faction that would countenance the spoliation of england's hitherto undimmed greatness and national pride. hence arose a new ministry under the united leadership of earl grey and lord john russell. in gerald bereford the supporters of the reform measure found a zealous adherent. he seemed to lay aside every other consideration in advancing the scheme which lay so near his heart. lengthy and private consultations were held between the latter and his sincere friend and adviser, earl grey. days and nights were passed in fierce and endless controversy in the house of commons. this was the only point in which lady rosamond failed to convince her husband of the injury sustained by such constant turmoil and anxiety involved in these measures. when she quietly endeavored to reason upon such a course of conduct he smilingly replied: "my darling, duty calls me and you would not see me inactive when the demand is so imperative? surely my beautiful rose would not like to have the breath of slander attached to her husband as guilty of cowardice or desertion from the ranks of his party? ah, no, my darling," cried the earnest politician, preventing his wife's retort with the tender kisses of a true and ardent love. it did indeed seem strange that the more earnestly lady rosamond pleaded with her husband the more firmly did he resist, and, if possible, the more ardent he became in his attention. lady rosamond felt a strange and unaccountable desire to interfere with the plans laid down by gerald bereford. many times she urged upon earl grey the necessity of moderation, and, with a vehemence foreign to her nature, strove to impress him with prophetic visions of anxiety, doubt, and fear. her ladyship was somewhat reconciled by the resignation of the premier, who, in his joking manner, attributed his want of success to the hostile attitude of the wife of his friend, gerald bereford. but the conflict was kept up with renewed energy. the reform party were not to be thus easily outwitted. they were still sanguine. during the period when the ministry vacillated between the conservatives and whigs, the spirits of the latter never drooped. victory was the watchword that attached itself to the reform party. victory was the cry of gerald bereford as he labored day and night with untiring zeal, utterly regardless of the ravages thus made upon his hitherto robust constitution. in this exciting struggle the young politician was unconscious of the deadly and venomous growth taking root within under the baneful effect of negligence and over-taxed powers. chapter xvi. new brunswick. the capital of new brunswick was the scene of more than usual excitement. extensive preparations throughout the higher classes of society indicated that some very important event or events were about to take place. extravagant purchases made in the several stores where were displayed dry goods, intimated that the fair sex looked forward to the approaching festivity with intense and joyous anticipation. new-year's eve has arrived. happiness expresses itself in rippling smiles beaming upon all faces. every citizen has cause for rejoicing. the commodious structure planned under the supervision of his excellency, sir howard douglas, is now ready for the reception of a numerous assemblage of guests. the family are reinstated in government house, happy in being once more able to extend their far-famed hospitality as on former occasions. nothing was wanting to make the present reception one of the most gorgeous in the social records of provincial life. every window in the entire building was brilliantly illuminated in the most beautiful colors of every hue and in a charming variety of scenes. there were represented the western heavens at sunset in crimson and gold; the rising glories of the approaching monarch shown on the eastern hill tops; scenes of classical beauty shone in bewitching effect. any attempt to particularize fails in the very effort. suffice to say government house blazed, not in the spontaneous spirit which displayed itself when the former building succumbed, but by the heightening aid of artistic skill and design. from a distance the sight was truly beautiful. many gazed with unwearied eyes anxious to behold a view which might never again be afforded them. the incessant peals of merry sleigh bells seemed to harmonize with the merriment and gaiety of the guests as they hurried to their destination. the array of rank, wealth, youth and beauty thus assembled are never again to be realized. every colony in his majesty's domains in america was represented. every one holding high rank or title was present. lady douglas with kindling eye glanced through the different rooms and pronounced the affair a decided success. mary douglas experienced a feeling of sadness while drawing a comparison between the present occasion and one in which lady rosamond was an honored guest. she could not but feel a deep yearning towards her old friend--a fond and tender longing to embrace the beautiful lady rosamond bereford. the drawing-rooms reflected credit upon those who assisted in the decorations. brilliant colors, banners, emblems, mottoes, flags, pennons, and coats of arms were intermingled with an eye to harmony and graceful effect. the military precedence on every hand shewed the spirit which influenced sir howard and his distinguished family. nearly all the gentlemen of the household were distinguished by their uniform. every attendant was in uniform. soldiers lined the grounds; soldiers kept hourly patrol; soldiers executed every command. the social atmosphere of government house breathed of a true soldier-like element. the ladies felt its influence as they took delight in listening to the chequered scenes amidst the lives of the many veterans who sat at their table. the st now graced the evening by a numerous body of officers with the gallant colonel creagh foremost in the assembly. the genial countenance of the old veteran, his sparkling eye and animated gestures found ready entrance into many hearts. conspicuous were jasper creagh, now attached to the regiment as holding a lieutenant's commission, and his friend trevelyan, now promoted to the rank of captain, and still enjoying the unbounded good will and confidence of superiors and inferiors. the faithful secretary still sustained his former resources for enjoyment and festivity. he had made himself agreeable to many fair ladies, acting the part of a gallant attendant, but his heart remained unimpressed, often a source of keen enjoyment to captain douglas, who vainly tried to captivate his friend in many ways. mr. howe was a distinguished and fine-looking gentleman, remarkably tall and straight, while the keen glance of his dark eye was sufficient to convince one of the powers of penetration forming such weighty proportion in the make-up of his character. his olive skin formed a pleasing contrast to the pearl white complexion of the beautiful daughter of the household, as they mingled together in the dance. the sparkle of that lovely eye was enough to drive the adoring suitors to distraction, yet mary douglas coolly withstood their ardent gaze. dance and song mingle in successive round. youth and age alike join in the fairy scene. arch glances pass from courtly cavaliers to beautiful maidens who "blush at the praise of their own loveliness." the rustle of silken draperies sound to the ear as unseen music at the hand of the warbling genii. robes of spotless purity and gossamer texture flit around, keeping time to the merry ringing silvery peals of girlish merriment. such are the scenes that greet the eye and ear in roaming amid the gay throng at government house, fredericton, on the new year's eve of . it would be a difficult task to make particular mention of the aristocratic matrons; still it would be a great injustice to pass over a matter of so much importance. in fact, by some, the married ladies bore off the palm for beauty and intelligence. of a certainty the comparison excepted the ladies of government house, there being none who could compete with mary douglas, her beauty being of a superior type. at the ball a married lady of rank wore diamonds valued at a cost seeming fabulous. others followed in the wake of such extravagance by wearing necklaces, bracelets, head-dresses, ear-rings, and brooches, in almost unlimited profusion. add to this the magnificent array of sir howard's supper table, its glittering plate in massive style, its enormous chandeliers, its countless train of liveried attendants, and you can then only form a very faint conception of the first ball given in the present government house, nearly half a century in the past! truly this was the chivalric age in the history of the capital of new brunswick--the age when proud knighthood was the ruling passion in the breasts of the sterner sex, when true heroic bravery was the quality which won the maiden fair, when the breath of slander could not be tolerated without calling forth a brave champion on behalf of the wronged. this is the age that has passed away never to return. progress and reform are the two great powers combined to crush out all traces of those by-gone days. in united action they ruthlessly wipe out every vestige or lingering relics of past greatness. nothing must stand in opposition to their will. reform suggests, progress acts--reform suggests the removal of all old landmarks--progress assists in the accomplishment. by such means, and through successive stages, did those days pass away, now to be reviewed, as a beautiful dream of the past. leaving this point we will proceed with the facts of the story. the day following marked an event of much greater importance than that of the preceding evening--it was important to all--all classes were afterwards to be benefited by the great boon thus conferred on the people of new brunswick. every parish and county had reason afterwards to rejoice in the great work of this auspicious moment. on new year's day of this year was opened the college at fredericton. the charter had been procured by sir howard after having withstood a storm of violent opposition, under which an ordinary spirit would have sunk in hopeless despondency; but the iron will and calm judgment of the wise statesman and ruler had outlived the fury of the opposing element, who now reaped the reward of his indefatigable labors by the accomplishment of the great work. the king showed his sanction by conferring upon this institution the name of "king's college, new brunswick," while to sir howard he assigned the honor of being its first chancellor, in acknowledgment of the great service thus rendered to the cause. in this office his excellency was duly installed on the present occasion. divine service was performed as the first ceremony. the professors and students were in their places. members of the legislature and the royal council occupied seats, while the public thronged the building to the utmost capacity. great and heartfelt was the burst of applause that greeted sir howard as he took his place: greater still, when he announced the intention of the king in conferring his name upon the college. the expressive features, high, broad intellectual forehead, earnest eye, benign countenance and honest smile perhaps were never more significant of the earnestness that pervaded every thought and action of the gentleman, scholar, and soldier, as when he uttered sentiments which shall be cherished through after ages, so long as king's college shall remain a monument to the memory of the best and greatest man that ever trod the soil of new brunswick. let us make use of his own words: "i shall leave with the college," he said, "i trust, for ever a token of my regard and best wishes. it shall be prepared in a form and devoted to an object which i hope may prove a useful incitement to virtue and learning; and at periodical commemorations of the commencement it may serve to remind you of the share which i have had in the institutions and proceedings of a day which i shall never forget." nor did this friend of education ever forget his promise. the douglas gold medal is still competed for though many years have rolled between the time when the first and last were presented. the distinguished donor has passed away, but his pledge remains. memory fondly clings around the deeds of sir howard and throws over them a halo of light that will shine with increasing splendor as time lengthens the distance between. the boundary question still assumed a troubled and unsettled state. many complaints were laid before his excellency, but he calmly resolved to grant no concessions. he treated every messenger with polite firmness. congratulations poured in from the governor general from canada and the british minister at washington, regarding the cleverness and ability displayed on the occasion. at last it became evident that no direct conciliation could be effected between the disputants. another course must be adopted. an arrangement was agreed upon between the english and americans that the matter be left to arbitration, to the decision of the king of the netherlands. in such knowledge the people felt and saw a common dread, a common anxiety, a gloomy foreboding. such knowledge brought the painful idea of separation. sir howard was appointed to prepare the case for presentation. his presence was imperative in england. a heavy blow fell like a death knell on the future hopes of the colonists. their true friend, sympathizer and ruler was about to take leave. many mourned his departure as that of a father or brother. their friend in prosperity and dire adversity; he who had struggled with the calamities and worked for the advancement of his people, their interests and direct benefits, was now to embark for his native land. regret was depicted on every face as the colonists moved in large bodies to return grateful recognition for the zealous labors spent in their behalf. every society took active measures in showing their mingled regret. tears rained thick and fast as many old friends grasped the hand of sir howard, murmuring a last god bless you. the kind-hearted soldier could not but feel deeply when he witnessed such hearty demonstrations, yet he had hopes of returning to new brunswick. he cheered the people with such remarks and strove to make the least of the matter. nor was the family of sir howard less to be regretted. their kind hospitality, generous hearts, and unassuming dispositions, had made many friends in fredericton and throughout the province. lady douglas strove to conceal her regret with many well-timed remarks. mary douglas lovingly lingered among the well-remembered walks and paths where she had spent peaceful and happy days. the lovely spring-time which she had looked forward to, with its songs of birds, bright sunshine, lovely flowers, and green fields, had come again, but not for her enjoyment. other ears would listen to the warbling songster--other forms would sit in her accustomed seats and enjoy the pleasing sunshine--other hands would pluck the lonely flowers blooming in beauty all around--other footsteps would roam over the soft green grass that gently raised its head as she tripped lightly along in former years. _these_ were the friends of mary douglas, truly the child of nature. birds, flowers, fields, sunshine, rain, and storm, were the constant companions of the gifted and beautiful student. the warble of the birds was to her of more worth than the most bewitching strains of an english opera; flowers taught lessons more inspiring and sublime than the most profound theological discussion. verdant fields and bright sunshine were constant reminders of heaven's choicest blessings and never-failing truth, while the stormy conflicts of nature's elements taught the heart a wholesome lesson in the thought that life has its changing moods, its bitter conflicts, its merciless storms. sad was the heart of the dreamer as she wandered for the last time amid these never-to-be-forgotten haunts. tears dimmed her lovely eyes and trickled down her cheeks. the scene was too sacred for other eyes. she had started off alone, wishing to pay the last tribute of respect to her silent friends in a manner becoming the solemnity of the occasion. we leave mary douglas in her sylvan retreat and follow other members of the family in their tender leave-taking. miss douglas echoes the same spirit as her sister, but with less poetic eloquence and fervent inspiration. she looks upon the faces of many dear young friends and feels a deep pang of sorrow as their tears mingle with her own. john douglas, no longer a mischievous, romping, and noisy boy, but an engaging and attractive young gentleman, ready to enter the army, takes a hearty leave of his former schoolmates and companions with sincere regret, bearing with him their united wishes for his future welfare and success in life. it would be an endless task to enumerate the bitter repinings and tender leave-taking between each member of the family, and the numerous hosts of sincere friends who pressed around them, eager to wish god speed on the journey. suffice to say, amid the last parting word, the last pressure of the hand, and the last fond embrace, the beloved family of sir howard douglas took their last glimpse of fredericton, dimmed by their fast falling tears, as the steamer slowly passed from the wharf, whence issued the plaintive strains of "auld lang syne," to be borne ever after in the memory of those who listened to the last parting tribute wafted from the shores of fredericton. chapter xvii. regrets. though most of those in whom we have taken such deep interest have left the province far behind, we cannot bear the thought of following them until more fond ties be broken that binds them to our native home. ah! were we to consider every fond tie, there could be no hope for separation. there are ties which bind the heart as lovingly as those of friendship, there are ties which cling while we breath the inspiration of every page within the universal volumes of heaven's choicest productions--the great book of nature--the teacher and refiner of the soul. this is the tie which clings to us through the medium of holy thought, inspiring, elevating and cheering. among those who most deeply felt the departure of the inmates of government house, none were more reserved in their demonstrations than captain trevelyan, who calmly watched each successive step in the order of preparation with a quiet reserve that to the uninitiated would appear as void of feeling. but the brave and handsome officer showed not the fathomless depths and feelings of his true heart, which throbbed with a renewed emotion. with a sense of utter loneliness he lamented the bitter misfortune which had been his attendant since he had left the peaceful home of his fatherland. mary douglas, his kind friend and companion, had been as a gentle and loving sister to raise for a time his flagging spirits. mr. howe had ever been at his side to show unceasing acts of kindness and brighten those dark hours with a tender but inexpressive sympathy. captain trevelyan could never forget the motives which actuated these, still he did not exhibit any outward show of gratitude save by a firm and passive confidence. knowing the true nature of such friendship, mr. howe would have experienced deeper regret at parting were he not aware that he would meet captain trevelyan early in the following year. left to the undisturbed quiet of his own thoughts, captain trevelyan formed many plans regarding his future career. a work was steadily going on within while he attended the duties devolving upon him in connection with his military life. it had always been the true aim of this soldier to discharge his labors faithfully and with a desire to please. his genial nature and generous heart gained the popularity of the entire regiment. not only did he treat his superior officers with profound respect but his inferiors as well. every subordinate officer and private loved to meet his friendly smile. every one vied in doing some act that would receive his approbation. truly did colonel creagh make the following remark to a distinguished general, who was inspecting the troops: "if ever man were born who possessed not a single enemy, i believe that man is captain trevelyan." "i believe you," returned the general, "goodness is stamped upon his handsome face, but seldom is it so clearly defined as to insure such general approval." "sometimes," added the colonel, "i have doubts regarding the serious intentions of our friend. it has been whispered that he begins to weary of the service. i have not had sufficient reason to confirm the truth of the statement, but i shall feel much dissatisfied if it prove correct. sir howard douglas always maintained that trevelyan is a scion of the old stock, that he possesses the same qualities that distinguished his father. it would indeed be a source of regret were all to be disappointed by his retirement," said the colonel, in a tone of deep earnestness. "if the family resources are large he may have sufficient reason for such an act," ventured the general interrogatively. "sir guy trevelyan," said the colonel, by way of explanation, "owns a fine old estate in hampshire, which yields a moderate income. his only son will be his direct heir, and captain trevelyan can at any opportunity enjoy the ease and retirement of private life." "i should not be surprised were he to avail himself of the departure of the regiment," exclaimed the general, adding, "there is not much distinction now to be gained in the service. captain trevelyan might remain an honorable officer in his majesty's service for years to come and not attain the position marked out by his distinguished parent." many remarks were thus applied to this officer by the gallant colonel of the st regiment. every sentence showed not only the high esteem in which captain trevelyan was held by the veteran of waterloo, but the fears entertained by the latter in regard to his rumoured retirement. not long after the above conversation took place fredericton was to witness another departure--the gallant st, under orders, were to be relieved by the st battalion of the rifle brigade. the same formalities of interchanging regrets were to be passed between those departing and the citizens. the same congratulations were to be presented in appreciation of the high esteem entertained towards the entire regiment in the presentation of testimonials and other marks of respect. the morning preceding the departure of the company to which captain trevelyan was attached, afterwards formed an important one in his life. colonel creagh's fears were realized by intimation from captain trevelyan with intention to make application for a discharge immediately on his arrival in england. after long and grave deliberation he had fully made up his mind, while a letter received from his sister gave twofold assurance of the great delight which such news communicated to the family. as this young girl will now be introduced to the reader, we take the liberty of inserting the letter, showing the tenderness of feeling existing between the brother and sister, the fond anticipation breathed through every sentence, and the deep interest manifested in the friends of the absent one. frequently did guy trevelyan re-open the envelope and bring forth the precious missive, written in a delicate feminine hand, containing the following:-- trevelyan hall, near winchester, sept. th, . _dear brother guy_,-- your fond letter of the th was received in due time, conveying the most delightful news that ever was written. how can i await your dear presence? really it seems almost too much happiness to realize that you will once more return home to remain. papa writes that he warmly approves of your decision, intimating that i must have been instrumental in procuring such good fortune for us all. i dare not dream too fondly lest by some means i may be disappointed; but, dearest guy, once restored to us, our delight will be unbounded. you must not expect to have a very long letter this time, as i cannot settle my thoughts to think of aught but yourself and "the restoration." if the second be not of such universal display as the one so grandly portrayed in history, it is doubtful whether the sincerity attending the latter be not of a more lasting nature and one showing the true affections of loyal and devoted hearts. i had almost forgotten to mention that i have frequently met mary douglas, who is, at present, visiting her friend maude bereford, at the castle. also, had the pleasure of being introduced to your friend mr. howe, and feel a deep interest in him on your behalf. imagine my delight when he informed me of his intention to accept your invitation to remain with us for a few days on your arrival. it seems that i cannot remember anything. i must not forget this time to say that great anxiety is expressed and felt at the castle regarding the failing health of lady rosamond's husband--mr. gerald bereford. for some time past he has sadly impaired his constitution by taxing his powers beyond endurance, and when almost too late, he withdrew from political life. great sympathy is extended lady rosamond who seems very despondent. medical advice suggests change of climate, and i have heard that they intend to spend the winter in italy. not wishing to give any more news until i see you at home, dear guy, and having nothing further to add but our love, i remain your expectant fanny. fanny trevelyan's letter had a double effect upon the mind of the recipient. it involved both happiness and despondent gloom, and unconsciously had struck a tender chord which vibrated with redoubled sadness in its deep sympathy. why do the waking echoes of the past take cruel delight in presenting to the mind visions which otherwise would be laid aside in a retired recess or a secret chamber sacred to the relics of other days and other scenes? why are those realities to present themselves in merciless and mocking array to gloat upon our sufferings with fiendish delight? these are questions only to be answered when the causes which call them forth have ceased to exist. captain trevelyan's retirement was the subject of much concern for the officers and men. many discussions arose as to the motive. lieutenant creagh remonstrated, but to no purpose. as the slow sailing ship bore the gallant regiment across the atlantic, hope reigned supreme in many hearts. friends and home greeted them on arrival. at gosport, captain trevelyan took formal leave, having received the strongest proofs of sincere friendship existing between man and his fellowbeings. great was the joy that awaited guy trevelyan as he once more entered the fine old park enclosing the grounds of "trevelyan hall." his mother, a staid and stately english matron, forgot all dignity as she threw herself fondly into his arms. fanny, the pet of the household, clung to her brother with tightening embrace, showering him with kisses pure as her maiden heart. nor was the dutiful son less tender in his expressions of joy, as lovingly he gazed upon the fair girl seated with her arm upon his shoulder. he could scarcely realize that the little girl of twelve was now the lovely maiden of eighteen almost matured into a gentle and loveable woman. in her sweet childish manner guy trevelyan found much to admire. the firm, steady gaze of her deep blue eyes had a power to rivet the attention of the beholder, that puzzled him. he knew from the calm and earnest tenor of his sister's manner that her heart was unfettered by any deeper attachment than those of family ties. in the bitterness of his feelings he thanked heaven for this fond assurance, fervently praying that the love of his pet sister would never be given where it would never be returned. he now listened with eager curiosity to the affairs of lady rosamond. her husband had indeed, when too late, listened to her urgent admonitions. he had resigned his seat in parliament when his physical powers were a mere wreck of his former self. disease had crept in by stealth and was only too truly realized by the deep ravages thus made--by the wasted and emaciated form--the feverish cheek and sunken eye. the noble sympathetic nature of the dutiful wife felt a severe shock as she daily was brought face to face with the dreaded fact--the awakening reality of her husband's condition. every care that could be bestowed by the hand of woman was lavished upon gerald bereford with unceasing and untiring devotion. no duty was too troublesome, no wish was slighted, except that which urged her ladyship to be more attentive to her personal wants. every sacrifice must be made that can possibly give returning health and strength to the future lord of bereford castle. no bitter repinings now possessed the heroic woman. her whole being was thrown into the scale to balance the opposing weight which crushed her husband's almost lifeless existence. the voice of one who repeatedly made the halls of parliament ring with deafening applause was now with an effort heard by those standing near. it was when such trouble bore heavily that mary douglas opened her heart towards her friend lady rosamond. she came unbidden to offer such service as was in her power to perform. she silently watched by the side of gerald bereford with that gentle caution so needful when suffering is apparent, or when an interval of pain or depression is to be guarded against as a thief in disguise. not a single expression ever passed between those friends with reference to any thing that happened in fredericton. mary douglas was careful to avoid any allusion to circumstances which might call up a sudden host of by-gone fancies which, ere this, should be consigned to the remotest regions in the realm of utter oblivion. she was now the friend and sympathizer of lady rosamond bereford, not the childish maiden as when first introduced, but a lovely, gifted, talented and accomplished woman, whose mind matured with her years. time has not lain heavily on her hands, she having labored assiduously in exercising those talents committed to her keeping. in after years we find the following: "her gifts were so varied that she was both a composer and musician, a novelist and poet." the friend of lady rosamond bereford was not to be affected by the emotions of lady rosamond seymour. the past was a sealed casket, forever sacred to the intrusion of the present. this was the state of feeling that existed between those noble women as they ministered to the wants of gerald bereford. what fervent prayers were offered for the dutiful and self-sacrificing wife as she tried to win a smile from the patient invalid. what grateful love went forth to her as she pressed the lips of her uncomplaining husband. in sickness as in health she had never seen his frown. his life had been a constant source of happiness. lady rosamond had been the day-star which illuminated his path with undimmed lustre and brilliancy. in her presence he felt not the weight of suffering that at intervals seized his exhausted frame. as symptoms of the disease began to abate and recovery was expected, her ladyship, accompanied her husband to italy, where they had intended to remove some time previous, but were prevented by a relapse of the invalid. chapter xviii. sir howard douglas. in order to follow up the brilliant career of this great man while connected with the administration of new brunswick, we will endeavor to give a few facts to prove the marvellous ability he displayed in carrying out his plans. on the passage homeward sir howard and family encountered many dangers. during the whole voyage there was kept up a constant gale, sometimes threatening the destruction of the rudely constructed brig of war named the _mutine_. amidst these daily mishaps and perilous exposures the douglas family maintained the utmost self-possession. sir howard was always ready to offer advice and assistance with a coolness that nerved the whole crew, and gave fresh hopes at the darkest moments. during the six weeks that elapsed, while braving the dangers of the deep, mary douglas never lost an opportunity to make the most of the occasion. she became interested in the stormy elements, learning lessons that served her to breast the struggling conflicts of life. observation was largely developed in the mind of the gifted maiden. nothing was presented to her eye that did not afford food for study and reflection. the joy with which they were received in england was boundless. friends gathered around with heartfelt demonstrations. sir howard was once more surrounded by many of his former companions. the duke of wellington gave him a hearty welcome, while statesmen could scarcely refrain emotion on beholding one who had taken such deep interest in the welfare of the nation and showed such firmness and decision in the boundary question. but another more distinguished honor awaited him. the university of oxford were ready to recognize such greatness by conferring the degree of d. c. l. sir howard was called upon to be present at the commemoration of , where crowds jostled each other to get a glimpse of this honored man. patriotism has been, throughout history, the leading spirit governing the universities of great britain and the present occasion proved no exception. students were animated by the presence of a true patriot. cheer upon cheer greeted the announcement of sir howard. applause was boundless as he received presentation from the public orator. that the spirit which prompted such action on the part of this dignified body may be seen, we insert the following oration, taken from the life of sir howard douglas: _most illustrious vice-chancellor, and you, learned doctors_, i present to you a distinguished man, adorned with many virtues and honors, belonging to military and civil affairs, as well as to literature--howard, a knight and baronet, a worthy heir of the latter order from a renowned father, the former richly deserved from his own king and that of spain; a member of the royal society of london, on account of the fame of his writings; for many years the governor of new brunswick, followed by the admiration and favor of his country and the reverence and love of the province; lastly, chancellor of a college in that province, built under his care and direction, to which its patron, the king, gave his name and a university's privileges. behold the man! i now present him to you that he may be admitted to the degree of a doctor of civil laws for the sake of honor. further comment upon the above is unnecessary, it being sufficient to convince one of the degree of popularity which sir howard had attained. the next place in which he plays a most conspicuous part is in the presence of royalty at the dutch court, where he was received with all the honors his rank, position and claim demanded. his majesty entered in a lengthy and earnest conversation regarding the important question now to be settled by his decision. sir howard stated clearly every circumstance in connection with the affair from beginning to end. to every question he gave a prompt reply, showing the clearness of judgment by which every argument had been maintained. in order to explain why such a question should be brought up forty-seven years after the treaty had been signed, he showed that it was founded on some indefinite or ambiguous clauses of the treaty of , but not proposed until . here was a delicate point for his majesty to settle without giving offence to either english or americans. but sir howard was resolved to support the claim which contended for the rights of his nation--for justice and for truth. he was not desiring territory, but protection and security to the interests of his people, _security_ to prevent the americans from claiming the privileges of the st. john river or classifying the bay of fundy rivers with those emptying into the atlantic. however, a decision at length was given which did not meet the wishes of either party, but the matter was set partially at rest. soon afterwards sir howard was engaged in discussing the cause and events of the belgian insurrection. he showed to the british government the design which france had contrived to her aggrandizement by the dissolution of the netherlands, and urged intervention on the part of the british government. the measures taken in determining the strength of the dutch territory and the trouble thus averted which must have involved war and bloodshed, secured the hearty thanks of the english monarch who acknowledged the debt of gratitude in terms of deep sincerity. the colonists were now awaiting sir howard's return with great anxiety, watching his movements with deep concern. hope once more filled their hearts as news spread abroad that their ruler was making preparations to return to new brunswick. but a new source of uneasiness arose. the home government raised a question abolishing the protection on colonial timber. sir howard was aroused to a sense of the situation. by the abolition of such protection the trade of new brunswick and the other colonies would be ruined, while the baltic trade would reap the benefit. was he to tamely submit to measures injuring the resources of the people whom he represented? no, he would appeal in a manner that would have public sympathy. hence was produced the well written pamphlet bearing his name, setting forth the grievance in a way that could not fail to prove the justice of the cause. every point was discussed with clearness and based upon the most reliable facts and statistics. newspapers took up the subject and complimented the author in the most flattering terms. a general excitement was now raised and the question was discussed on every side. in the house of commons it gained much popularity. great was the joy of sir howard when the result of his work was announced by the defeat of the government. this proved the patriotism of sir howard. he could not sacrifice the interest of his country to those of himself and family. he purchased his country's welfare with the resignation of the governorship of new brunswick! where do we find such true nobility of character, such brilliant genius, and such unsullied virtue? well might the colonists have exclaimed with one voice when tidings conveyed the news of sir howard's resignation: "he was a man, take him for all in all, we shall not look upon his like again." however, some recognition must be made to show their gratitude to one who had made such a sacrifice. meetings were held in different parts of the province resulting in a general subscription towards the purchase of a valuable service of plate which was presented him in england, accompanied by an address, breathing the spirit of heartfelt regret at the loss of their much beloved ruler. sir howard never forgot this circumstance. he often referred to his stay in new brunswick with feelings bordering on emotion. years afterwards his heart beat with quickening impulse as he fondly recognized the familiar face of a colonist or received some cheering account of the welfare of the people. through the remaining years of his life he never ceased to keep up a faithful correspondence with several of his former friends, particularly the rev. edwin jacob, d. d., who received the presidency of king's college through his kind patron,--the tie of friendship which bound them was only severed by death. much more might be said regarding this great man, but we must now leave him to the active duties of a busy and useful life, surrounded by his family in the comforts of an english home and enjoying the true friendship of the philosopher, the historian, and the poet. among the most intimate in this list was sir walter scott--the friend of mrs. bailie, the foster mother of sir howard. doubtless the name of douglas was sufficient to awaken in the mind of the scottish bard a feeling worthy of the friendship of sir howard. together they spent many hours in conversing upon the scenes which had formed subjects for the poet's pen and awakened a deep veneration for the legends of scottish lore. perhaps in no other way can we better pay a parting tribute to the memory of sir howard douglas than by inserting the following letter which had been forwarded when the latter had arrived from new brunswick: "abbotsford, near melrose, st july, . "_my dear sir howard_,-- "i have just received your most welcome letter and write to express my earnest wish and hope that, as i have for the present no edinburgh establishment, you will, for the sake of auld lang syne, give me the pleasure of seeing you here for as much time as you can spare me. there are some things worth looking at, and we have surely old friends and old stories enough to talk over. we are just thirty-two miles from edinburgh. two or three public coaches pass us within a mile, and i will take care to have a carriage meet you at melrose brigley end, if you prefer that way of travelling. who can tell whether we may ever, in such different paths of life, have so good an opportunity of meeting? i see no danger of being absent from this place, but you drop me a line if you can be with us, and take it for granted you hardly come amiss. i have our poor little [illegible] here. he is in very indifferent health, but no immediate danger is apprehended. you mention your daughter. i would be most happy if she should be able to accompany you. "always, my dear sir howard, most truly yours, walter scott." here is an instance of genuine simplicity and hearty friendship existing between men of like nature. the true greatness of sir howard was appreciated by one whose themes of poetic beauty and fervent patriotism kindle a glow of inspiration that will burn undimmed while time shall last. and now we close this chapter by bidding the noble, great and good sir howard douglas a fond farewell! chapter xix. trevelyan hall--the arrival. the fine old building, well known to the surrounding country as trevelyan hall, was indeed a true specimen of an english home. its present owner had, notwithstanding the fact of his being abroad in service, spent much means to make it a home-like and delightful residence. its situation added to the other resources in gaining for "the hall" a wide-spread reputation. the extensive park contained some of the best wooded ground in the county of hampshire. its fine streams afforded means of enjoyment for those who devote their pastime in angling and other such health-giving recreation. its gardens were carefully cultivated, showing much neatness and elegance, though not affording a varied extent of scenery. captain trevelyan's return was now to be associated with new and varied interest in the interior and exterior management of this pleasant home. fanny trevelyan was cheered by the hope of her brother's presence. company would now be entertained in a manner creditable to the former hospitality which distinguished the trevelyans. the handsome and elegant apartments assigned to the daily use of the inmates in nowise deteriorated from the exterior prospect. the extensive drawing-rooms, in which were arranged, with tasteful effect, rich furniture, gorgeous carpets, and all those beautiful collections of art, requisite to adorn the home of the great and refined. the inviting library with its massive display of well-lined shelves, the cheerful breakfast room with its eastern aspect, the countless retreats, balconies, verandas, and summer houses, formed a pleasing feature in the every-day life, pursuits, and recreations of this affectionate family. home was the spirit-like influence which was infused in every feeling, thought, and action. a sense of ease and comfort was enjoyed throughout the entire household. despite the difference of rank, wealth, and dignity, the poor dependents felt a warm and devoted confidence in their high-born superiors. in the sweet and childlike fanny trevelyan there was a subtle magnetizing influence which compelled acknowledgment. in her kind and loving heart was much room for the troubles and daily cares of the dependents surrounding the estate of trevelyan hall. many acts of kindness were performed in a quiet and childlike way that was indeed pretty to see. the only daughter of colonel trevelyan was a maiden of a rare and striking character. her gentle disposition was sufficient to win admiration irrespective of the purity and noble qualities of her mind. though eighteen summers had lightly flown over the head of this lovely girl, her manner was that of a sweet, intelligent, lovable, and sensitive child. sweetness of disposition was truly the coloring most profusely portrayed in the character of fanny trevelyan. in this fact lay her great delight upon captain trevelyan's return. upon this fact was based the happy expectation of seeing the generous-hearted mr. howe. from this source she found all that contributed to make life pleasant and enjoyable. the possessor of those charms had no great claim to personal beauty, yet she might be called beautiful. the regular features of her small and well formed face were devoid of any distinguishing lineaments, the deep blue eyes had a quiet, earnest light, which often shone with increasing brightness, when accompanied with the expressive smile so often bestowed upon those who dwelt within and around "the hall." as sometimes one hears remarks paid to beauty called forth by blushes, surely in this instance we can fairly claim the compliment due fanny trevelyan, whose maiden blushes indeed made her appear in truth very beautiful--of the beauty which shall last when all other shall fade--of the beauty which flows from the heart, kept fresh in the daily performance of those duties that spring from the impulses of a beautiful soul. thus might be classified the type of beauty which adorned the sister of captain trevelyan--beauty of disposition--beauty of mind--beauty of soul. during the last two years a friendship had sprung up between fanny trevelyan and maude bereford. they had studied for a short time under the same masters, from which fact arose the present attachment. a striking similarity of disposition was noticeable between those friends, yet, in many respects they were widely different. though fanny trevelyan was so deeply sensitive, childish and engaging, there was a depth of character underlying these which found no comparison in maude bereford, the former possessing powers of thought and reflection, which were entire strangers to the mind of the latter. in the preferment of lady rosamond, they were of the same mind. while on a visit to the castle, fanny trevelyan had received many proofs of affection from its beautiful young mistress. she took much pleasure in the company of maude bereford in strolling amid the lovely gardens, but experienced keener delight in listening to lady rosamond's description of scenes in new brunswick rendered so dear by being associated with her brother who was still indeed her great regard. many times fanny trevelyan tried to form various conjectures concerning this beautiful woman, wondering why she had such an influence that was more powerful when removed from her presence. she wondered if her brother guy felt the same powerful influence as herself. he had never expressed any decided opinion in favor of her ladyship, yet she did not consider the fact as of much importance; but he had not shown in any manner, nor by repeated inquiries, any betrayal that would lead one to suppose that he entertained any regard whatever for the lovely being. fanny trevelyan was now busied in matters of great importance. preparations were being made for the reception of maude bereford, mary douglas and mr. howe. then she would hear still further of new brunswick life--its pleasures and its inconveniences. gaily did she perform the many little offices left to deft fingers and untiring patience. maude had availed herself of the temporary absence of her invalid brother and his devoted wife. three weeks were to be spent in the society of trevelyan hall. fanny trevelyan had a little secret project in her mind which gave much pleasure. she would be in a position to introduce maude bereford to the notice of her brother guy. with girlish glee she anticipated much from the circumstance, wondering in what way her friend might be received at the hand of the last named gentleman. on the other hand captain trevelyan had _his_ plans to mature. without consulting his sister's opinion, he had a secret pleasure in the hope that his ever true friend might find much to admire in the young girl who was soon to be their guest. he had not the slightest wish to enter on any schemes by which his loved sister might be complicated. fanny trevelyan was fancy free. it was his fond hope that she remain so many years to come. bitter experience taught captain trevelyan a lesson from which he could draw many useful hints and resolves. he was careful to guard against any exposure to which his loved sister might be subjected. amid these doubly laid plans the inmates of the hall welcomed their visitors, in whom were also included captain douglas. the sincerity of the latter was expressive in the humorous and hearty congratulations showered upon the genial host. "trevelyan, old boy, you are a mighty fine specimen of the old school! egad, what would the frederictonians say could they look in upon you now," exclaimed the incorrigible charles, with the ruling passion uppermost, while he threw himself upon an easy chair in a free and jovial manner. "i am inclined to think that they would not be favorably impressed with such a wholesale exhibition were each one to repeat the same performance as yourself," retorted mr. howe, assuming an air of nonchalance. "ah, i see how it is with my honored friend," once more ventured captain douglas, "he already is maturing plans to place me at disadvantage before i have fairly secured entrance to trevelyan hall; but," added the speaker, with an air of playful menace, "old chap the tables may turn, as they did many a time in fredericton." much as mr. howe regarded his friend, charles douglas, he wished that the last remark had not been made. though it were said with the ease of unconscious and humorous gaiety, the quick glance of the secretary saw the instant effect. this was the only point on which he remained reticent to his bosom friend. they had been together for years. they had grown from childhood together, yet captain trevelyan's secret must remain a secret. were it known to charles douglas, he would have cherished it with a sanctity becoming him as one whose whole lifetime marked out the strait laid down by the great poet: "where one but goes abreast." but the hospitable host was in his gayest mood. everything contributed to make the reception a flattering one. fanny trevelyan was at ease among the old friends of her deeply beloved brother. mary douglas was in ecstacies of delight upon thus meeting guy trevelyan. on several occasions she was deeply sad when referring to the troubles of lady rosamond, but seemed to feel hopeful in the return of gerald bereford's health and strength. maude bereford was playful, entertaining and happy. a more pleasant party were never gathered at "the hall." lady trevelyan was a dignified and reserved woman, possessing much judgment and coolness of decision, but added to these were qualities which endeared her both to her family and all those who made her acquaintance. it was with extreme pleasure that she contributed a share in the entertainment of those friends who had extended such kindness to her only son when placed among strangers in a distant land. by every possible means within her power, lady trevelyan lavished both gratitude and affection upon the beautiful daughter of the distinguished family who had shared their hearts and home with the handsome young lieutenant when first deprived of the society of his own happy household. such was the disposition of lady trevelyan that these tokens of disinterested friendship could never be forgotten, but steadily shone as a bright light to cheer her daily path, undimmed by any darkening visions of disappointed hopes or vain delusions. this happy family have realized their parents' wishes. captain trevelyan's retirement was urged by an earnest entreaty on the part of his mother. by it he could attend to the numerous requirements of the estate, which had lately become an onerous duty devolving upon mrs. trevelyan. the faithful steward of the family had grown old in the service and not capable of managing the business as in the days of his prime. yet the fact only added to his reputation. captain trevelyan advised in such a quiet and suggestive manner that the old servant scarcely felt his growing inability. no discord prevailed. moderation was the true secret. the family of colonel trevelyan treated their dependents with gentleness and kindness. lady trevelyan often sought advice from them in such a way as both showed her confidence in their opinion, and gained unbounded respect towards the relationship thus existing between them. mary douglas at first seemed inclined to shrink from the reserved demeanor of her ladyship, but further acquaintance made her feel comparatively at ease. really the present occasion afforded opportunity for what may, with due propriety, be termed a complication of plans, or more properly still, plans within plans. lady trevelyan had formed her little plans. to do justice to her ladyship we will not say that she formed it, but that she would very agreeably and readily have acquiesced in the matter. reader, we are half inclined to keep her ladyship's--no, we will not say plan--fond dream--a secret. supposing that many of you are not considered temper-proof we dare not provoke the multiplied assaults of hitherto amiable and patient friends, therefore we will treat you fairly by taking you into our entire confidence at present. lady trevelyan had soon learned to love mary douglas with a feeling akin to her nature. she fondly watched every effort or action in the movement of her favorite guest. every playful or fond gesture was carefully hoarded up as a store of treasures in the mind of her ladyship. faithfully did she note each mark of favor shown at the hand of the genial young host. lady trevelyan was _only a woman_ as all others. do not chide if she had set her heart upon one fond thought--if she secretly hoped that guy trevelyan would endeavor to secure for her another daughter in the beautiful mary douglas. is a devoted mother always rewarded for such anxiety towards her first-born and heir? do these respective heirs and highly-favored children strive to further the wishes of those deeply interested parents, especially mothers? in a more particular sense, did captain trevelyan take any steps to advance the scheme which lay near her ladyship's heart? fanny trevelyan was also busily occupied in watching the daily progress of her fond projects. she was not overjoyed in fond expectation, yet was contented to await the result of daily companionship for an indefinite period, as maude bereford was to remain until her presence was demanded at the castle. still the young hostess gave herself no uneasiness about her brother's affairs. if he would form an attachment to maude bereford it would be a source for much rejoicing and happiness. she was altogether unconscious of the counter plots or schemes laid to thwart her own. mr. howe was vastly entertaining in his endless variety of diverting moods, making himself by turn the especial cavalier of every lady in the company. to lady trevelyan he was doubly considerate and devoted. captain trevelyan knew the motive and warmly appreciated it. he had many times wished for an opportunity to return such passing acts of kindness, yet in vain. captain douglas fully sustained his former reputation for satirical jests and well-timed jokes at the expense of his friends. frequently those whom he regarded _most_ received attacks in proportion to the value of such regard. formerly to lieutenant trevelyan and his friend howe were daily administered doses of almost equal quantity and in double proportion to those outside the household. yet who did not admire the gifted, manly, and handsome son of sir howard douglas? who was not ready to welcome him with heart and hand around the festive board or social circle? who has not become infected by his jovial, gay, happy, and generous nature? truly, captain charles douglas was a worthy son of an honored race--the royal house of douglas. in the midst of such a company of "tried friends and true," the days and weeks must have flown rapidly away while enjoying the hospitality of trevelyan hall. fanny trevelyan, admired, petted, and caressed, had still the same childlike nature when friendship had been matured by daily companionship. mary douglas was charmed with the sweet and engaging manner which was at first attributed to a want of confidence. frequently she spoke to captain trevelyan concerning his "child sister," as she playfully termed her once, exclaiming: "how beautiful if fanny shall always be a child woman." "it shall be my earnest wish," returned guy; "i would not have her otherwise." chapter xx. a winter in the eternal city. gerald bereford was now enjoying the soft summer breezes, blue skies and golden sunshine of an italian climate. his health seemed to improve as he neared the far-famed city--the eternal city--the gigantic monument of what has been in ages of the mighty past. many visions arose before lady rosamond's mind as she contemplated the magnificent ruins that met her at every gaze. in the company of several acquaintances they visited scenes of impressive and peculiar interest: st. peter's, in all its glory, rising from its piazza of stately columns and fountains, something too grand for description. this imposing specimen of classic architecture, with grandeur inconceivable, the interior, the lofty dome, called up emotions her ladyship could never forget. in the coliseum the invalid seemed to enjoy returning vigor as he looked down from the upper halls and viewed the triumphal arches of constantine, septimus, severus and titus, now crumbling into decay, the lofty corridors left to the mercy of the elements, the endless porches grass grown and unprotected from the wild beast, the mouldering parapet, taught the one inspiring theme--mortality. this ruin of ruins--what can it not recall to a vivid imagination? the thousands who lined those seats in eager gaze upon the arena with its bloody and heart-sickening conflicts, its array of blood-thirsty antagonists, its dying groans, its weltering victims. where are they? what remains? awful solitude, awful grandeur, awful beauty, desolation. peace, the emblem of christianity, now reigns in the ancient stronghold of barbaric passion, butchery and strife. lady rosamond had visited ruins of palaces, castles, bridges, arches, cathedrals, monuments and countless relics of the past, but none had the power to chain her thoughts as the stupendous coliseum, viewed in the solemn stillness of a moonlight night. the present was a beautiful dream. it had a softening effect upon the devoted wife, infusing peace, content, and calm repose. the solemn reminders on every side had a charm to soothe her hitherto troubled breast. holy emotions were nurtured within the heart where once reposed unresisting conflicts of rebellious strife and discontent. with the warm breath of nature came awakening life into the emaciated frame of the invalid. lady rosamond devoted every waking moment to her husband. in the charming eventide they sat upon the balcony of their residence overlooking the corso, catching a glimpse of the open country beyond the surrounding mountains and the ever restless tiber. frequently, they rode slowly along the appian way, now almost impassable for heaps of rubbish, mounds, and broken fragments, temples, columns, pillars, and successive piles of neglected relics. the campagna, in its dreary aspect, often tempted their stay. sometimes her ladyship would have a feeling of vexation, knowing that it was utterly impossible to visit more of the sights of rome. they might remain for years and leave many scenes unexplored. the palace of the vatican formed a life-long study for lady rosamond. only a few of its four thousand rooms could be visited, yet these were bewildering in variety. here they could view the most wonderful collections of art and grandeur that the world affords. here were stored the endless piles of antique trophies of every clime--rooms representing oriental scenes throughout, starlit skies, and monsters of unknown existence meet one on every side and fill the mind with awe. for the benefit of the reader we will insert the letters written by lady rosamond to her friend, mary douglas, containing a short description of some important places, and showing the tender interest inciting the writer when referring to the circumstance of her husband's ill health--the hopeful vein which pervaded throughout, and the true spirit of friendship extended to the absent one. rome, february th, . _my dearest mary_: as many miles lie between us there is no alternative but the hastily written and imperfect scribble which will shortly be presented you, if the elements have not conspired against us. in order to relieve your uneasiness i beg to state that gerald's health is daily improving. he has much faith in rome. scarcely a day passes without his enjoying the benefit of the delightful atmosphere and the lovely drives out into the open country, of which i must tell you afterwards. the large number of acquaintances formed since our arrival have contributed much to our enjoyment. we frequently meet many of our old friends. imagine our delightful surprise on seeing captain crofton, his wife and daughter. of course you remember the latter--a lovely girl of purely blonde style, whom we meet at lady berkeley's, and who created such sensations in london circles on her first appearance in society. gerald declares that the face of an old friend is better than medicine. what do you think he would say were you to enter rather suddenly upon us? my dearest, i know what i would say if such an overwhelming happiness were in store. these thoughts call up feelings which are inimical to peace and content. i am almost tempted to wish for the quiet of our english home and the sight of your dear face. but this must not be. i shall forget to give you some sights of rome if i indulge in vain and foolish regrets. really i am at a loss how to convey any idea of such scenes as we are almost daily witnessing. in the present instance i feel my inability to appreciate what is lofty and inspiring to every cultivated mind. often i am inclined to envy those of brilliant intellectual perceptions like yourself. when the day arrives that you visit the eternal city will it not be viewed in a different sense than in the present under the ordinary gaze of your short-sighted rosamond? gerald says: "tell mary something of the churches," without thinking of the arduous task therein devolved. poor fellow! he seems anxious to make amends for so much self-sacrifice. in compliance to his wishes your friend reaps twofold pleasure, therefore mary shall hear "of the churches." about three weeks ago a party of tourists, including the croftons and ourselves; visited several of the grand old churches, so important in the history of roman architecture of classic ages. the first we entered was the church of the ara coeli, said to occupy the site of the ancient temple of jupiter feretrius. it was a gloomy old structure with long rows of pillars of etruscan design. on ascending the long flight of steep stairs on one side the impressive gloom increased. the situation awoke old associations of the sybilline and vague predictions of the time-honored soothsayers--their power--their greatness--their fall. we were more than impressed with the churches of st. giovanni and st. paolo, beneath which lay in awful depths the subterranean caverns said to be connected with the coliseum. gerald remained above while i followed the explorers through these dismal yawning gulfs seemingly ready to open and shut their victims in a living tomb. streets ran in various directions; the mouldy, damp walls emitted a disagreeable watery vapor that rendered the air unbearable; stagnant pools lay on all sides. is it not an appalling thought that these successive ranges of caverns were constructed for the human victims to be eaten by the beasts at the coliseum, yet such is the legend. doubtless you already weary of churches, but having first attempted them at the suggestion of gerald, now i am deeply interested in the matter myself. but you will only listen to one more very short account. the church of san sebastiano, which next received us, is situated on the appian way, and perhaps the most remarkable of any we have hitherto visited. the site is truly beyond description. the stupendous masses of rocks piled on every side appeared to give it an interest more than common. the endless rows of decaying columns, pillars, stained windows, and paintings, added one more link to the chain of daily events which form such an important part in our visit. as i intend very soon to write you something of a livelier description, i now conclude this hastily-written scribble. dearest, i expect to hear from you all immediately. gerald is rapidly improving, and is sanguine of ultimate recovery. adieu. from your rosamond. lady rosamond now entertained hopes of her husband's recovery. he seemed much stronger and took a deeper interest in their explorations. in the company of english friends he visited all the accessible spots of historic ground. lady rosamond was always ready to encourage him by her hopeful remarks and winning smile. she had formed an attachment to the lovely mabel crofton, who indeed repaid her in a fond return. nothing gave gerald bereford more anxiety than the pale face of his wife. in his feeble health he strove to draw her ladyship's attention towards the social circle with a view to raise her occasional drooping spirits. in the young english maiden lady rosamond found much company. they conversed much and enjoyed the sights together with united regard and interest. in answer to a lengthy letter received shortly afterwards from mary douglas, the following was penned by lady rosamond: rome, april th, . _my darling mary_: truly did you respond to my wishes. how can i ever repay so much devotion? you have indeed granted my requests in mentioning all my friends, and giving all the matter which interests gerald so much. he is indeed truly grateful and is going to write you by next mail. his health has not been improving so rapidly of late, yet we have every hope of his recovery. will it not be a happy moment when we meet again on the shores of dear old england? the very dust and fog will have a charm hitherto unknown. as we are in rome you will expect something from rome, therefore i will tell you of what has recently been going on. last week was the carnival. gerald complained of weakness and fatigue, having exerted himself too much during the previous week. he was much disappointed in not being able to participate in the amusement, but had to be satisfied by remaining on the balcony of our residence, overlooking the corso, which, as you know, is the principal street paraded on those occasions. gerald interrupts me by requesting a long letter and full description, therefore on him alone rests the blame if i exceed the length usually devoted to letter writing. now for the carnival. at an early hour on monday morning the usual bustle and active preparations commenced. carriages rolled along laden with confectionaries and flowers. in fact the street, houses, and passing vehicles of every description, appeared as though the heavens had literally rained flowers--flowers showered in every direction. evidently we were certain that flowers were to be one of the prominent features witnessed in the grand demonstration. every house opening on the corso was covered with bright streamers, pennons, and flags of every size, shape, color, and hue--red, blue, white, green, gold, purple, yellow, and pink. every window was festooned with flowers, banners, and like array. every shop was converted into gorgeous saloons, decorated with trees, garlands, evergreens, resplendent in silver, crimson, and gold, filled with hundreds of anxious spectators. every nook and corner was made bright by the sparkle of beautiful eyes, merry smiles and happy faces. thousands jostled on every side in representation of monkeys, lions, tigers, soldiers, clowns, maniacs. satanic deities and every other deity credited to countless ages, helped to swell the crowd wedging themselves between line upon line of carriages four abreast. the general bombardment commenced on all sides was truly an exciting scene. grand assaults were made upon houses and carriage with alike furious resistance; missiles of bonbons rose in the air, volley upon volley; storms of flowers. those seated in windows and balconies made desperate onsets upon the passing carriages. hand to hand encounters now became general; monkeys assailed lions; mamelukes returned the fire of gipsies; a grand hurly-burly arose from every point in sight. clouds fell from upper balconies upon each side of the street as the crowds poured on in incessant streams which became at intervals one moving mass of dust, white as snow. beautiful ladies, maidens and children, mingled in the gay scene--all intent upon the same enjoyment. it is impossible to convey the faintest idea of this grand display which is kept up from early morning until half-past four o'clock, when the street is cleared as by magic. how such a concourse of carriages and people get into the adjoining nooks and piazzas in such a short time is astonishing, while thousands still cling to the sidewalks of the corso. a chariot race is the next proceeding, when, within the space of a few moments, the horses are in their places--the signal given--the distance of the corso gained--the race won. this is the first day's outline of sport, which is followed in successive order until the end of the season. having already lengthened this letter in twofold proportion, i must take room to say that the festive scene instantly ceases as the solemn notes of ave maria rises from the hundreds of steeples--the requiem for the departing carnival. i will not distract your attention with the palaces of the cæsars, the cenci, st. angelo, and the remains of antiquity still to be seen here, but trust that when we meet again every wish that you formerly expressed regarding our stay in rome will be realized a thousandfold. looking at the volume of this letter i feel quite ashamed, but trust that absence and distance will help to plead my cause. gerald seems quite confident that his suggestion will also speak loudly in my favor, and perhaps he is right. at least i hope so. remember me kindly to every one of the family, i shall mention none particularly. gerald expresses a wish not to be forgotten by you. now, dearest mary, if this truly formidable missive weary you, please deal gently with gerald and your loving rosamond. lady rosamond had given her friend some of the glimpses of her experience in rome, yet she had much more to relate on her arrival. some months would elapse before her husband would consider his health sufficiently restored to return to his native land. at intervals he seemed almost restored when a sudden relapse would cause a renewed return of the symptoms attending his flattering disease. still they were hopeful that with the returning spring health would be restored the patient invalid. throughout the severe dispensation gerald bereford manifested no irritation, no fretfulness, no complaining. he seemed to be happy in appreciating the labors of his beautiful wife. on one occasion, when she asked if he did not weary of his sickness, he quietly replied: "darling rosamond, it has shown that you are willing to sacrifice every pleasure in devotion to one who can never fully repay such a debt of gratitude. do you think that i can try, my rosamond?" exclaimed he, pressing a fond kiss upon the lips of the pale but lovely woman, as she sat beside him. ah! gerald bereford knew not that in these words there lay a hidden meaning. surely, and in a way unknown to both, will the debt be paid. chapter xxi. light, shadow, and darkness. the guests at trevelyan hall had departed, maude bereford alone remaining. captain trevelyan applied himself to the duties devolving upon him with a will. his hospitality was the comment of many. he had begun life aright. his honest heart and upright principles were a sure passport to prosperity and popularity. "the hall" was a scene of much gaiety and resort. large gatherings were of frequent occurrence, to which the families of the surrounding neighbourhood were cordially invited. fanny trevelyan was idolized among her youthful companions and associates. her sweet face was welcomed as a delightful acquisition on every occasion. many sought to show their fond appreciation of her retiring manners and graceful elegance. flattery had no power over her. she possessed a character of too much depth and penetration to harbor the least feeling akin to vanity. lady trevelyan had guarded her daughter's education and trained her with a view to set a proper estimate upon those qualities which ennoble and elevate the soul. maude bereford was a proper companion for fanny trevelyan. their minds were in harmony, while the latter acted as a propelling power to force the aspirations of the other above their common flight. lady trevelyan was pleased with this companionship. though she could not discern the brilliant genius and powers which characterized the beautiful mary douglas, there was much to admire in maude bereford. captain trevelyan was kind, amiable and attentive. he paid every mark of respect towards his gentle and loveable guest. frequently they walked, chatted and rode together. maude was pleased with the gentlemanly attentions of the engaging officer, and showed her appreciation in many ways. he enjoyed the society of those two girls much as those of playful children. fanny was truly happy in her brother's company. "dear guy, you must never love any one more than me," was a frequent rejoinder as she received his many tender caresses. one day, when seated upon the lower end of the balcony, fanny laid her hand lovingly upon her brother's shoulder and looking into his face, exclaimed: "guy, i have often wondered about you." "about me, pet," returned the latter, "what can it be about me that is really worthy of so much attention from a young lady fair? already i feel as of some importance." guy trevelyan was now a handsome man of twenty-seven. the effeminate blush of youth had given place to an open and engaging animation that made him doubly attractive. turning his gaze upon his sister, he added: "come, little one, tell me this great wonder. i must not be kept in suspense. cannot maude assist you? if so, i rely upon her in the present dilemma," said guy, turning in playful appeal to maude bereford. "your surmise is groundless, _mon frere_," returned fanny, in childish glee, "maude is entirely in the dark, (pardon the vulgarism.)" "i will pardon you in everything, provided you gratify my curiosity," said the other. "fanny, it is unjust to treat guy in this way," said maude, by way of intercession. "two against one," cried fanny, with a demure smile upon her face. "the majority has it. i am placed in a difficult position," said she, turning to her friend, adding, "maude only for your suggestion i might have been able to extricate myself. well, i shall try my best to maintain peace by compliance to your united wishes." "by telling us one of the seven wonders," interrupted maude. "yes," said fanny, "i have often wondered why it was that guy could remain so long in the companionship of mary douglas or lady rosamond and come back heart whole to trevelyan hall." captain trevelyan had received a home thrust, yet he betrayed no feeling and showed no reason for suspicion, at least in the eyes of his sister and her companion. a quiet laugh greeted the remark. guy trevelyan had not the keen glances of the secretary levelled at him now, else the puzzling expression that rested awhile upon his face would instantly have been detected. "that is the great wonder," said the brother, drawing his sister nearer to his side, adding: "well, my little sister, until _you_ have become weary of your brother's keeping he is anxious to claim the gracious liberty of possessing the love of one devoted heart. what says _la belle_ fanny?" "oh, guy," cried maude, "she was afraid that you may possibly have charitable intentions towards some fair one and wishes to make the test." "why, maude," exclaimed fanny, "you are really in earnest; i shall begin to think, from the stand you have taken in the matter, that guy had better beware, else ere long he will not be able to make such avowals to his sister." "come, come, little mischief-maker, no jealousy," cried captain trevelyan, hastily drawing an arm of each within his own, and then they joined her ladyship in the shrubbery. fanny trevelyan was truly in jest. she had found that no real attachment was to be formed between her brother and friend. there had arisen instead a tender familiarity, a friendship that is rare to be seen. maude bereford had grown to treat guy trevelyan with brotherly kindness. it pleased him to witness this feeling arising from disinterested friendship and motives of genuine purity. were it otherwise he would feel an embarrassment that might affect his honest nature. when left to himself he could not dismiss from his thoughts the remark made by his sister. he knew she was ignorant of his affairs in new brunswick, yet he felt sorely puzzled. not long after the following conversation took place, maude bereford was preparing to hasten homeward. lady rosamond sent cheerful accounts of her husband's rapid improvement. they were still visiting amid the ruins in hopes of speedily returning to england. every fortnight brought to trevelyan hall a lengthy epistle from mary douglas--lengthy from the fact of its being addressed to each member of the family--bearing remembrance to lady trevelyan, many choice bits of gossip to guy, and charming effusions to fanny, full of love and tenderness. her last contained a glowing allusion to lady rosamond--an eager desire to meet her loving friend; also fervent gratitude for the hopeful restoration of gerald's health. "i am almost inclined to feel a pang of jealousy," exclaimed fanny, as she read and re-read the contents of the precious missive. "mary loves lady rosamond better than any other friends on earth." "why not, my child?" questioned lady trevelyan; "they are old friends--friends in childhood, girlhood, and womanhood. lady rosamond is worthy of the truest and purest love. she is beautiful, good, and lovable. who could see her ladyship but to admire and love?" "dear mamma," returned fanny, "you share my sentiments towards lady rosamond. guy seemed surprised when i ventured to wonder why he could remain so long in the daily society of two such gifted and lovely beings as her ladyship and mary douglas, without forming stronger ties than those of friendship." "both are lovely," exclaimed lady trevelyan. "it would indeed be a difficult matter for a lover to decide between two so much alike in beauty, grace, and loveliness." "strange that i did not think of this before, mamma," said the childlike fanny with an air of much wisdom. "the poet must certainly have experienced the same predicament when he wrote: "how happy could i be with either, were t'other dear charmer away." a week had elapsed after maude had arrived at the castle when a hastily written note was received by fanny trevelyan from the former, containing sad news from rome. gerald bereford had apparently recovered, and was on the eve of returning home when he was suddenly seized with hemorrhage of the lungs, which rapidly reduced him and brought on prostration. medical assistance had been obtained, but he now lay in a critical state, every means being used to prevent another attack, in which case there could be no hope. maude bereford had penned those lines in bitter anguish. she loved her brother from the depths of her heart. his life must be spared. heaven could not deprive her of such a blessing. ah, no, he will live! in this hour of trial the sorrowing girl sought comfort in those rebellious and sinful thoughts. she had not the sustaining faith to say, "thy will be done." it is needless to say that maude's letter met much sympathy at "the hall." fanny cried heartily. she could not think of any thing but the sadness that had fallen upon the inmates of the castle. "poor lady rosamond," exclaimed she, in tones of undisguised sadness, "how she will lament her sad fate if gerald should die? oh, mamma, i cannot think it possible that he must die." "tempt not heaven, my child, for 'with god all things are possible,'" said lady trevelyan, who was a truly christian woman. "everything is ordered aright," continued her ladyship, "there are no afflictions or trials in life but what are considered for our good. it is indeed a heavy blow upon the young wife to lose the husband of her choice, but how many have borne up when deprived of father, mother, husband and child." "oh, mamma," exclaimed fanny, "if i could only look upon the ways of providence in the same manner as you. i know it is sinful, but i cannot help thinking that it is too hard for gerald to be taken away from lady rosamond. how i pity her. poor dear maude too. how badly she must feel." the physician's worst fears were realized. spite of every care and precaution a second attack of hemorrhage made its fatal ravages upon the fast sinking body of the sufferer. gerald bereford must die. all hopes are at an end. death has set its seal upon his broad, fair forehead. soon the eyes that still fondly linger upon the form of his beautiful wife shall close to open upon the scenes of another world. this was a bitter trial to lady rosamond! her husband was to die in a foreign land. he was to be deprived of a last farewell to the dear friends at home. such thoughts, bore heavily upon the susceptible nature of this faithful woman. could she then have gathered those loved ones around the dying bed of her husband, she would have sacrificed every earthly desire; yes, her life. then did she think of her friend, mary douglas; then did she need the consolation of a true christian friend. like a ministering angel, she strove to soothe the last hours of her dying husband. never was woman more devoted, heroic and patient. not a murmur escaped her lips as she sat for hours watching the quickening breath in death-like struggle, convulsing the almost lifeless form of one who had ever been kind, dutiful, loving, and true to his vow. on his death-bed, gerald bereford felt no pangs of remorse devouring his latest thoughts. he could die in the belief of having been ever devoted to her whom he had promised to love, cherish and protect. keenly did lady rosamond feel this reflection. had her husband been less kind, generous and true, she could have borne the present with a firmness worthy of her spirit. but the thoughts that now filled her breast were maddening, merciless and torturing. "what have i done to suffer so much through life," was the mental question ever uppermost. gerald bereford had fought the battle of life bravely. he had taken part in its conflicts and struggles, never flinching from his post when duty called. ambition had dazzlingly tempted him on--on--further on. he must be victorious in gaining the cause for which so many had fought with firm determination. could he have lived to see the result of such political warfare--its blessings and its privileges--its freedom--he might exclaim with the brave general, "i die happy." but he _did_ die happy. he _lived_ a happy life--he _died_ a happy death. lady rosamond had many kind friends amidst this sad bereavement. her pale face had power to move the most stoical--more powerful than the loudest outbursts of grief, or the paroxysms of a passionate and unsubdued sorrow. what she suffered in those hours of silent anguish heaven alone can ever know. thoughts forced themselves upon her almost too hard to bear. truly did she need the strength for which she had prayed on a former occasion. it seems a sacrilegious intrusion to unveil the heart of this truly devoted woman, who had sacrificed her entire being to the wishes and welfare of one whom she had calmly laid to rest. fain would we stop here. but the sequel must be told. lady rosamond had married gerald bereford with a firm resolve to be a dutiful and yielding wife, yet her heart had refused to follow. she never loved the man who lived upon her smiles. still he knew it not. she was to him kind, loving, and pure. she was indeed _kind_. in every action shone kindness in characters of bold relief. everyone who knew her found naught but true kindness. _loving_? yes, loving; though gerald bereford stirred not the depths of lady rosamond's heart, she was capable of a love as undying as the soul that gave it birth. it was her life--her being. in pity for her faithful husband she had guarded every secret passage of the heart which might lead to the betrayal of bitter and desolate feelings. _pure_? yes; purity was the guiding star which marked the daily course of this woman's existence. her acts were pure--her mind was pure--her heart was pure--every thought was pure. there was purity in her sorrow, leading to pure and holy thoughts--speaking to the soul--giving comfort--giving hope. in deep sincerity did lady rosamond mourn for her husband. she mourned his loss as that of a loved brother--a dear friend--one in whom she confided. she found much comfort in the thought of having done her best. she had fulfilled her duty--she had struggled bravely. she had cheered her husband's path through life--she had kept her secret--made one being happy. surely such thoughts must have offered some relief. she had committed no wrong, having gone forth at the summon of duty, she had taken upon her frail, trembling form, a cross overpowering in its weight, yet she murmured not. as she is sitting beside the lifeless remains of one who had filled such an important part in her history--a striking illustration of life in its varied forms of existence--its joys--its sorrows--its longings--its aspirations--its dreams--let us look upon her as one of the many purified through much suffering--whose faith will meet its recompense. chapter xxii. conclusion. reader, we will ask you to follow us as we pass over a period of two years--two long years. the task imposed is an arduous one, yet, we shrink not. all former friends must be searched out, and once more introduced. be not impatient if we do not succeed in the direct order of your wishes. in the uncertain distance faint echoes are already heard between intervals of solemn thoughts, while the name of rosamond strikes upon our ear and vibrates within us as though the influence of myriads of spirits had woven around a deep subtle spell from which we cannot force ourselves. in truth, you have won us--your point is gained. now to your relief. bereford castle stands in its grandeur and beauty with not an object near to mar the effect. its stoical exterior bears no impress of the loss sustained in the heir and son. menacingly it frowns upon those scenes which recall the realities of life. amid storm, sunshine, sickness and death, its aspect is unchanged--true type of its age, order and design. on entrance, the interior is calm, quiet and inviting. daily contact with the inmates has had a soothing effect. look around. in the spacious drawing room, opening upon the garden, is the family occupied in different ways. lord bereford is seated beside the familiar form of a beautiful woman dressed in robes of mourning. a second glance is not necessary to aid recognition. the sweet pensive smile is sufficient. lady rosamond has lost none of her charms. time has no grudge against her for personal wrongs, no retributive justice to be meted out--instead, the quiet happiness of a contented mind is lavished with true delight. a fond light beams in the lovely eyes as they turn towards maude bereford--ever the same maude that strolled around trevelyan hall some time in the past. the same simplicity is attached to every movement, action and speech--maude still. but a stranger is engrossing her attention. a tall, handsome and gallant gentleman occupies a seat at her side, devoting his attentions to her, occasionally addressing lady rosamond in terms of endearing familiarity. there is not much difficulty in ascertaining the relationship. geoffrey seymour had become a frequent visitor at the castle. the blushes that greeted him told the tale upon maude bereford. yet, she cared not for the eyes of the world. she had given her heart to a true, honorable and affectionate lover. already she has woven bright dreams wherein are clearly portrayed outlines of two fond beings living in the sunshine of each other's love, surrounded by the comforts and ease of a bright and happy fireside. lady bereford is within the privacy of her own apartments. grief and anxiety have left heavy marks upon her hitherto well preserved face. the furrowed forehead, wrinkles and grey hairs, show full well the heavy blow which had been dealt her ladyship in the death of her first-born. time cannot eradicate the inroads made upon this high-minded woman. her failing health speaks of dissolution. the mother's heart that beat so wildly as she dreamt of the glorious future of her son, now feebly responded to the sluggish torpor of faded hopes. other friends are awaited at the castle. ere we have time to turn aside, light steps are flying across the hall and a girlish figure is at our elbow, and the next instant in the arms of lady rosamond and maude. the childish face of fanny trevelyan once seen is not soon to be forgotten. oh no, fanny, you occupy an important niche within our memory! two years were only a myth--a dream to the young mistress of trevelyan hall, save when some other's troubles aroused her sympathy and called forth the fine feelings of her nature. the former playful glee is still alive in fanny's buoyant and lively manner. her gaiety at times subsides to gaze upon lady rosamond's thoughtful face. the heart of this maiden is still fancy free. guy trevelyan is not disappointed in his sister, he being yet the dearest object of her heart. "dearest maude," cried fanny, in rapturous delight, "will we not form a happy family when mary joins us." "one would consider you a happy family already if happiness bears comparison by merriment," ventured a well-known voice from the outside apartment--a voice that had power to stir the soul of lady rosamond to its lowest depths, and kindle the smouldering passion time had vainly tried to smother into a fierce and steady flame. strange that her ladyship must pass another fiery ordeal--that she must add more sorrow to her hitherto sad, eventful life. no quivering lip or trembling form gave hope to guy trevelyan as he pressed the small white hand of one whom he loved tenderly and passionately--one whose image had been engraven upon his memory since he had given his boyish affections to the lovely, high-born, gentle girl, when a guest at government house in fredericton. like the last moments of a drowning man, scenes he had almost forgotten flashed before him in countless array--scenes, varied and infinite, in which lady rosamond formed the pleasing foreground. face to face with this beautiful woman guy trevelyan was ready to fall down in adoration and pour out the tale of his sorrow with the ardor of undying love. what is the tenor of his thoughts while engaged in quiet and easy conversation with her ladyship and the other occupants of the drawing-room? guy trevelyan is wondering if he dare avow his love--if by any means he can find hope to approach lady rosamond on a subject which engrosses his waking thoughts. mary douglas completed the family circle. with her came love, joy, hope, and happiness. her lovely presence gave fresh impulse to every one greeting her arrival. lady rosamond felt a ray of light shed upon her as she caressed her true and constant friend. maude was happier, if possible, in the love of geoffrey seymour when listening to the sweet silvery voice of this peerless woman. fanny was overjoyed on the arrival of mary douglas. she alone could open her heart before the gaze of a companion. her affections were untrammelled by false hopes or unrequited love. she sought the society of the former with a feeling bordering on idolatry. together they spent much of their time, while captain trevelyan was thrown upon the resources of lady rosamond. the constant companionship of the man whom she loved cost many a bitter struggle to her ladyship. the earnest gaze of guy trevelyan's soft eyes were indeed hard to bear. if he only knew the power thus exercised upon the fair being beside him. but lady rosamond had kept her secret from the eye of any living creature save herself. captain trevelyan must not discover the fatal knowledge. he must never know. still they conversed together, talked together, and spent many hours together, having much opportunity to fathom the depths of each other's heart. lady rosamond seemed cheerful, content, and happy. captain trevelyan was apparently light-hearted, pleasing, agreeable, and attentive. each guest endeavored to make the most of this friendly meeting. even lady bereford strove to forget her feelings and rally her former spirits and dignified stateliness. bereford castle enjoyed a season of delight. one lovely evening afterwards several voices mingled in the shrubbery adjoining the garden. maude was conversing in animated tones with fanny trevelyan. geoffrey seymour had played truant to his lady love by gallant attention to mary douglas. in a remote corner, almost beyond hearing of these, and scarcely visible through the foliage, were the forms of a lady and gentleman seated beneath the sheltering branches of a stately elm. a nearer approach shows the rising color of the rose-tinted cheeks--the glorious light in those lovely eyes--the bewitching and irresistible smile. a manly voice is heard exclaiming in the tones of a rapturous lover, "rosamond, my own darling, i never expected to realize such happiness. in the possession of such love i am a thousandfold rewarded for a lifetime of misery. yes, my peerless rosamond, the last half hour has amply repaid the torturing pangs of a forlorn and hopeless love which i have suffered since first beholding you." at this avowal the speaker leaned towards lady rosamond bereford, revealing the features of captain trevelyan. in a moment of passionate fervor he had confessed his undying attachment to the lovely rosamond, and had received the blissful assurance of reciprocated love. he was in possession of a happiness beyond description as he told the oft repeated tale to his betrothed wife, listening to her voice as it fell like music upon his ear. the fond kiss which sealed their vows was more precious than the mines of golconda. truly did guy trevelyan idolize the beautiful woman who had now surrendered her heart to his keeping. did lady rosamond tell _her_ secret to her accepted lover? did she also confess the love which had been cherished towards the boyish lieutenant when he became almost a daily visitor at government house--the maddening thoughts, that almost crushed her out of existence--the spirit of rebellion against the designs of her loved parents--her resolution made to lady douglas--her bitter struggle between duty and feeling--strength of character--victory over self--devotion to her husband? this is _our_ secret, and we will never reveal it. the reader must be content to know that captain trevelyan was made happy beyond expectation by whatever revelation or by what answer. truly they were "two souls with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one." let us assume the garb of the seer and step stealthily over the distance dividing the future, and gently draw aside the veil! what meets our gaze? a beautiful picture. the scene is now in trevelyan hall, where a reception is being held to welcome the beautiful bride of captain trevelyan--lady rosamond trevelyan. truly the peerless rosamond. the beauty of the latter never shone so resplendent. love has brought its unsurpassing charms. love imparted life, brilliancy and soul to the face of the bride. captain trevelyan gazed upon her as though such radiance could scarcely be of earth. in the train of guests foremost stands mary douglas, whose happiness is indeed great. she is certain of the love existing between the newly-wedded pair, therefore reflects happiness from the thought. next in order follows maude bereford, whose smiling face shows plainly the impress stamped upon her heart as she returns the gaze of her handsome betrothed, whose love is entirely devoted to her, save the tender attachment borne towards his sister lady rosamond trevelyan. and our little favorite fanny? yes. fanny trevelyan is there in all her sweetness, engaging as ever, winning friends by every smile. her joy is great. lady trevelyan's matronly grace and beauty appears to great advantage as she cast benign glances towards her daughter elect. lady rosamond in her eyes is a woman worthy to be loved--worthy of a mother's love. a group seated near, evidently in merry conversation, attracts our attention. one is entertaining them with something of a humorous character. the lively gestures and satirical smiles are certainly those of captain douglas. doubtless he is telling of some sport which he enjoyed at the expense of mr. howe and lieutenant trevelyan in the field, barracks, or drawing-room, when in fredericton. charles douglas, the handsome, brave, and generous son of sir howard, still proudly wears his former reputation unsullied and undimmed. his heart is ever ready to do an act of kindness for a fellow creature. beloved, honored, and respected, he is worthy of his distinguished sire. ah! we see another familiar form and face. leaning beside an open window is that of a dear old friend, apparently occupied in studying the varied expressions of the happy bridegroom, and vainly trying to discover that puzzled one which had given so much concern on former occasions. the faithful friend of the young lieutenant of the nd has not forgotten to pay his respects to the retired captain of the st and his lovely bride. he had made a sacrifice to be present at an event which brought such happiness to one in whom he had always taken such a deep interest. mr. howe was indeed a happy, honored, and welcome guest. many more are to be observed standing, sitting, reclining, in groups and companies; but as strange faces have no peculiar charm when feasting upon those of our old acquaintances, we make no effort to introduce them. in our great joy we had almost forgotten to recognize one of lady rosamond's warmest adherents--one always in attendance upon her ladyship, ready to engage in any fun, frolic, or excursion, in the direction of fields or woods--no less a personage than john douglas; no longer important johnnie, but a well-bred gentleman, hearty, jovial, merry, with bravery stamped upon every lineament of his face. some are missing. sir thomas seymour has not lived to see this. lady bereford is also among the number. she has paid her last debt. having brought before you most of those in whom you have no doubt became interested, we now bid them all a tender adieu. it is hard to part with friends who have shared our sorrow, our sympathy, and our joy, but in so doing may our prayers follow each throughout time, hallowed by fond memories of the past. a second thought to lady rosamond before turning forever from the light of her lovely smile. in her great happiness there are moments when holy thoughts arise, having a purifying influence upon her life. she never can forget the past, while the present begets the consciousness of having trodden the paths of duty and right with firm, unfaltering steps, never looking back until the goal was reached--the reward gained. "when life looks lone and dreary what light can dispel the gloom? when time's swift wing grows weary what charm can refresh his plume? 'tis woman, whose sweetness beameth o'er all that we feel or see; and if man of heaven e'er dreameth 'tis when he thinks purely of thee, o woman!" diary written in the provincial lunatic asylum, by mary huestis pengilly. _the prison doors are open--i am free; be this my messenger o'er land and sea._ published by the author. . this little book is humbly dedicated to the province of new brunswick, and the state of massachusetts, by one who has had so sad an experience in this, the sixty-second year of her age, that she feels it to be her imperative duty to lay it before the public in such a manner as shall reach the hearts of the people in this her native province, as also the people of massachusetts, with whom she had a refuge since driven from her own home by the st. john fire of . she sincerely hopes it may be read in every state of the union, as well as throughout the dominion of canada, that it may help to show the inner workings of their hospitals and asylums, and prompt them to search out better methods of conducting them, as well for the benefit of the superintendent as the patient. december.--they will not allow me to go home, and i must write these things down for fear i forget. it will help to pass the time away. it is very hard to endure this prison life, and know that my sons think me insane when i am not. how unkind mrs. mills is today; does she think this sort of treatment is for the good of our health? i begged for milk today, and she can't spare me any; she has not enough for all the old women, she says. i don't wish to deprive any one of that which they require, but have i not a right to all i require to feed me and make me well? all i do need is good nourishing food, and i know better than any one else can what i require to build me up and make me as i was before i met with this strange change of condition. i remember telling the doctor, on his first visit to my room, that i only needed biscuit and milk and beef tea to make me well. he rose to his feet and said, "i know better than any other man." that was all i heard him say, and he walked out, leaving me without a word of sympathy, or a promise that i should have anything. i say to myself (as i always talk aloud to myself when not well), "you don't know any more than this old woman does." i take tea with mrs. mills; i don't like to look at those patients who look so wretched. i can't bear to see myself in the glass, i am so wasted--so miserable. my poor boys, no wonder you look so sad, to see your mother looking so badly, and be compelled to leave her here alone among strangers who know nothing about her past life. they don't seem to have any respect for me. if i were the most miserable woman in the city of st. john, i would be entitled to better treatment at the hands of those who are paid by the province to make us as comfortable as they can, by keeping us warmed and fed, as poor feeble invalids should be kept. december .--i have made myself quite happy this week, thinking of what christmas may bring to many childish hearts, and how i once tried to make my own dear boys happy at christmas time. i helped poor maggy to make artificial flowers for a wreath she herself had made of cedar. she was making it for some friend in the asylum. she never goes out; she wishes to go sometimes, but mrs. mills scolds her a little, then she works on and says no more about it. poor maggy! there is nothing ailing her but a little too much temper. she does all the dining-room work--washes dishes and many other things. january.--they have had a festival; it was made, i suppose, to benefit some one here; i don't know whom. it certainly did not benefit me any; no one invited me to go to the church where the festival was held, but dr. crookshank, the assistant physician, looked at me very kindly and said, "do come, mrs. pengilly, you may as well come." i looked at my dress (it is grey flannel, and i have had no other to change since i came here), "i can't go looking like this; i must be a little better dressed to go into a public meeting of any kind; i am not accustomed to go looking like this, with nothing on my neck." he said, "very well, something shall come to you;" and mrs. hays, who is assistant nurse in our ward, brought me a plate of food and fruit, such as is generally had at festivals. i have not had my trunk yet; sure the boys did not leave me here without my trunk. perhaps they do not wish me to go in sight of people from the city, for fear they will recognize me, and i should make my complaints known to them. i have entreated them to give me my trunk so many times in vain that i have given it up. i did ask mrs. mills, and she says, "ask mrs. murphy, she has charge of the trunk room." i asked her; she says she will see, and she will bring me whatever i need that is in it. she puts me off with a soft answer, until i begin to think there is nothing done for any one here, only what they cannot avoid. it is a self-running establishment, i guess, for no one seems to know how or when to do anything i wish to have done, whatever they may do for others. february.--the weather is cold. i have more to occupy my time now. i have learned how to let off the cold air from the radiators, and then we get more heat. i do it when no one sees me. i shall do all i can to make myself comfortable, and they all share it. when i arise in the morning, my first thought is to look up the hall to see if there is fire in the grate--the one little grate in that large hall, to give warmth and comfort to us poor prisoners. if the fire is there, i feel pleased; i go up as soon as the sweeping is done, and try to feel at home. i tell the nurse i will tend the fire, if she will have the coal left beside the grate. sometimes they allow it willingly, and i enjoy it. i brush up the hearth, and make it look cheerful and homelike as possible. i draw up the huge, uncomfortable seats to form a circle; they stand round until i get there; they are happy to sit with me, but they don't know enough to draw up a seat for themselves. i have found pleasure in this; it cheers my heart. there is no situation in life, however unpleasant it may be, but has some bright places in it. i love to cheat mrs. mills; i watch my chance when she is not near, and let off the cold air in the radiator until the warm air comes, and then close it. i add coal to the fire, saying to myself, "this castle belongs to the province, and so do i. we have a right to all the comforts of life here, and especially so when five dollars a week is paid for our board; let us have a nice fire and bask in its comforting rays." i love the heat; if the seats at the grate get filled up, i come back to the radiator. perhaps it is warm enough to afford to have the window open a few moments, to let the impure air escape--just a little of it; then i sit close by it, calling it my kitchen fire-place. i am regulating the comfort of this ward in a measure, but they don't know it. february.--my dear lewis has been to see me today. we chat together as usual; how can he think me crazy? dr. steeves tells him i am, i suppose, and so he thinks it must be so. he is so happy to see me looking better; he is more loving than ever; he holds my hand in his and tells me he will take me out for a drive when the weather is fine. and i said, "oh lewis, my dear boy, i am well enough to go home with you to your hotel now." i so long for some of mrs. burns' good dinners; her meals are all nice, and here we have such horrid stuff. dark-colored, sour bakers' bread, with miserable butter, constitutes our breakfast and tea; there is oatmeal porridge and cheap molasses at breakfast, but i could not eat that, it would be salts and senna for me. at noon we have plenty of meat and vegetables, indifferently cooked, but we don't require food suitable for men working out of doors. we need something to tempt the appetite a little. no matter what i say, how earnestly i plead, he believes dr. steeves in preference to me. if i should die here, he will still believe dr. steeves, who looks so well they cannot think he would do so great a wrong. when i first began to realize that i must stay here all winter, i begged the doctor to take me to his table, or change his baker; "i cannot live on such fare as you give us here." his reply was, "i don't keep a boarding house." who does keep this boarding house? is there any justice on earth or under heaven? will this thing always be allowed to go on? sometimes i almost sink in despair. one consolation is left me--some day death will unlock those prison doors, and my freed spirit will go forth rejoicing in its liberty. there is a dear girl here whose presence has helped to pass the time more pleasantly, and yet i am more anxious on her account. how can her mother leave her so long in such care as this? ah, they cannot know how she is faring; she often says, "i used to have nice cake at home, and could make it, too." she has been teaching school, has over-worked, had a fever, lost her reason, and came here last june. she is well enough to go home. i fear if they leave her here much longer she will never recover her spirits. she is afraid of mrs. mills, and dare not ask for any favor. mrs. mills is vexed if she finds her in my room, and does not like to see us talking. i suppose she fears we will compare notes to her disadvantage, or detrimental to the rules of the house. i think it is against the rules of this house that we should be indulged in any of the comforts of life. march.--at last i have my trunk: why it should have been detained so long i cannot conceive. i feel rich in the possession of the little needful articles it contains. i enquired of dr. steeves, some time ago, if he had not in the asylum a supply of necessary articles for our use, telling him i wanted a paper of pins very much. he said they were for the indigent patients, so i got none. my son, tom, gave me some small silver some weeks ago, but i was no better off. no one would do me an errand outside. i begged mrs. mills at different times to buy me some pins, and to buy me an extra quart of milk. i was so hungry for milk, but she said it was against the rules of the house. she gives me now a glass nearly full at bed time, with one soda biscuit. this is the only luxury we have here; some others get the same. it is because i have tried to make her think we are her children, left in her care. i said to her, "'feed my lambs,' you are our shepherd;" and she is if she only knew it. i have quoted the words of him whose example we should all follow: "do good unto others." i am watching over those poor lambs now, to see how they are tended, and i will tell the commissioners in whose care the asylum is left by the province. the people of new brunswick suppose they attend to it. the commissioners have placed it in the care of dr. steeves, and they believe him quite capable of conducting it properly. is this the way it should be done? i don't think so. i observed miss fowler today holding her hand to her eye, which is looking inflamed; she is blind; a well-educated, delicate, gentle-woman. i take more than usual interest in her for that reason. i often sit beside her and she tells me of her mother, and wants me to go home with her to number one. she does not seem a lunatic, and she is neglected. i tied her eye up with my own handkerchief, and a wet rag on it. i did not mean to offend, i had done so before and it was not observed. mrs. mills came along just as i had done it; she jerked it off in anger, and threw it on the floor. i said to her, "that is not a christian act," but she pays no heed; perhaps her morning work makes her feel cross. i come back to my own room and write again; what shall i do? i cannot--how can i stay here any longer! and i cannot get away, locked in as prisoners in our rooms at night, fed like paupers. if i were committed to the penitentiary for a crime, i would not be used any worse than i am here. my heart longs for sympathy, and has it not. i have tried to soften mrs. mills' heart, and win her sympathy, but i cannot, and i cannot withhold my pity for those poor invalids who fare even worse than i. march .--i must write this while fresh in my mind, for fear i may forget. there is a miss short here--a fair-haired, nice-looking girl; she stands up and reads in the testament as if she were in sunday-school, recites poetry, and tries to play on the piano. i did not think her much out of order when she came, but she is now. she has grown steadily worse. her father came to see her, and she cried to go home with him. i wished very much to tell him to take her home, but mrs. mills did not leave them, and i dared not speak to him. she has grown so much worse, she tears her dress off, so they have to put leather hand-cuffs on her wrists so tight they make her hands swell. i say, "oh, mrs. mills, don't you see they are too tight, her hands look ready to burst--purple with blood." she paid no heed: "it does not hurt her any." yesterday she tied a canvas belt round her waist so tight that it made my heart ache to look at it. i am sure it would have stopped my breath in a short time; they tied her to the back of the seat with the ends of it. march .--another poor victim has come to our ward today--a black-eyed, delicate-looking girl. she looked _so sad_, i was drawn to her at once. i sat beside her in mrs. mills' absence, and enquired the cause of her trouble; she said her food gave her pain--she is dyspeptic. if the doctor would question the patients and their friends as to the cause of their insanity, they might, as in other cases of illness, know what remedy to apply. this dear child has been living at dr. wm. bayards' three years--chambermaid--that is enough to assure me she is a good girl. i think she wears her dress too tight. i unloosened her laces and underskirts to make them easy; they are all neat and tidy, as if she had come from a good home. another day is here. that poor girl is in great trouble yet. when i went out into the hall this morning, she was kneeling by the door; she laid her cheek on the bare floor, praying for her sins to be forgiven, murmuring something of those who had gone before. i cannot think she has sinned; poor child! she has lost her health in some way; she has transgressed some law of nature. i think it has been tight lacing that caused some of the trouble, for she sat up on the floor when i invited her to stand up for fear some one would open the door and walk over her, and rubbed the calf of her leg, saying it was all numb. anything too tight causes pain and distress by interrupting the free circulation of the blood. she is so pitiful and sad! how could mrs. mills speak so unkindly to her, pushing her with her foot to make her rise up? she treats them like wicked school-boys who have done something to torment her and merit punishment. i cannot but pity mrs. mills, for this is an uncomfortable position to fill, and if she has always obeyed her superintendent, she has done her duty, and deserves a retired allowance. the younger nurses are all learning from her, and will grow hard-hearted, for they think she is one to teach them; they come to her for help in case of emergency, and they go all together, and are able to conquer by main strength what might in most cases be done by a gentle word. "a soft answer turneth away wrath;" i have known this all my life, but i never felt it so forcibly as now. there is a lady here from westmoreland; her hair is cut short, and her eyes are black and wild. the first time i spoke to her she struck me, lightly, and i walked away; i knew she was crazy. after i had met her a few times and found she was not dangerous, i ventured to sit down beside her. she was lying on her couch in a room off the dining-room; she lay on her back knitting, talking in a rambling way: "do you know what kind of a place this is? aren't you afraid i'll kill you? i wish i was like you." i smoothed her hair with my hand as i would a child. i thought, perhaps, she had done some great wrong. she said she had killed her mother. often before, i had stood beside her, for i looked at her a number of times before i ventured to sit by her. i had no recollection of seeing her when i first came, till i found her in this room. i suppose she was so violent they shut her in here to keep her from striking or injuring any one. i could not discover the cause of her trouble, but i comforted her all i could, and she has always been friendly with me since, and listened to my words as if i were her mother. she has been here a long time. last friday--bathing day--two young, strong nurses were trying to take her from her room to the bath-room (i suppose she was unwilling to be washed, for i have noticed when i saw her in that room on the couch, she was not clean as she should be--her clothes did not have a good air about them). the nurses were using force, and she struggled against it. they used the means they often use; i suppose that is their surest method of conquering the obstinate spirit that will rise up to defend itself in any child or woman. she was made more violent by her hair being pulled; one nurse had her hands, and the other caught her by her hair, which is just long enough to hold by. they made her walk. i was walking near them when i saw one seize her by the hair; she tried to bite her on the arm. i started forward, and laid my hand on her arm, with--"don't, my poor child, don't do so; be gentle with her, girls, and she will go." she looked at me, and her face softened; that angry spirit melted within her, and they went on to the bath-room. shortly after that i met her looking fresh and nice; she was in mrs. mills' room, in her rocking-chair. sometimes i look in there to see if that chair is empty, to have a rock in it myself. i think it better for her health to knit in the rocking-chair than to lay down and knit or read either, so i leave her there. perhaps she has read too much and injured her brain; if so, i would not let her read so much. march .--poor mrs. mills has served thirty-two years here, and has become hardened as one will to any situation or surroundings. she is too old a woman, and her temper has been too much tried. she is tidy, and works well for so old a woman, but she is not fit for a nurse. if she were a british soldier, and had served her country so long, she would be entitled to a pension. poor miss short! last week i saw her lying on the floor nearly under the bed, her dress torn, her hair disheveled. how can her friends leave her so long! some ladies came to see her a short time ago, and as they left the hall i heard her call them to take her with them. if they knew all as i do, they would not leave her here another day. there is a miss snow here from st. stephens. i remember distinctly when i first came, she raved all the time. i did not dare to look in her bed-room. i must write something of myself today. i can look back and see plainly all my journey here. the day may come when i shall be laid away in the grave, and my boys--the dear boys i have loved so well--will look over my trunk and find this manuscript; they will then perhaps believe i am not crazy. i know dr. steeves tells them i am a lunatic yet. they will weep over this, as they think of the mother they have left here to die among strangers. it would be happiness to die surrounded by my friends, to be able to tell them they have only to live well that they may die well. to be true to ourselves and to our fellows, is all the good we need. that i have always striven to do, does now my spirit feed. i have been so near the grave, the border land of heaven. i heard angels' voices; they talked with me even as they did with john on the isle of patmos, when they said to him, "worship god who sent me." i was very much alone, engaged in writing a book on the laws of health. my desire to write increased; i became so absorbed with my work i forgot to eat, and, after a day or two, i seemed to think i had done some wrong. the angel voices whispered me that i must fast and pray; i know i had plenty of food in my closet, but i don't remember eating any more. i fasted eight days, and felt comfortable and happy most of the time. i sang to myself, "o death, where is thy sting, where is thy victory, boasting grave." i wept for my own sins, and wished to die, the world to save. i was trying to perform some ancient right or vow, one day, and my sons came in. i ordered them away, but they would not go. they said they would bring me home, for lewis, who was living with me near boston, sent for my son, t. m. pengilly, who is proprietor of a drug store in st. john. i suppose he discovered i was fasting, and saw me failing so fast he telegraphed to tom to come to his assistance. i remember i kissed him when he came, asked him what he came for, and bade him leave me. i know now how unreasonable that was, for we had no other room but lewis' bed-room, and in it there was no fire. we had rented rooms, as lewis took his meals at a boarding-house near. poor boys, they went in and out; it seemed to me they did not eat or sleep for some days; i thought they were as crazy as i was in the cars. they brought dr. hunter to see me. i had been acquainted with him some time previous. i told him i was sorry they had brought him to see me, for i needed no physicians, i only needed to fast and pray. "i know you are a good man, dr. hunter, but you need not come to see me again; i will be all right in time; god and his angels will keep me always." these were my words to him; i know not what prompted me; i suppose it was my insanity. i think i told them to nail up the doors and leave me there till summer. that was the last week of october. my poor boys, how tried and worried they must have been. they watched me night and day alternately. i told them i had not talked with them enough of my own religion. i begged tom to read the bible and kneel and pray, but he would not; i think he fell asleep in my rocking-chair (how often i have wished for that rocking-chair since i came here). on sunday morning i heard them say, "we will go home in the first train." lewis went out to see about it, and i told tom i wished to take the sacrament, and he should give it to me, for he would yet be bishop of st. john--"st. thomas" he should be called. i can but laugh when i think of it now, but it was very real to me then. i had been a member--a communicant--of st. james' church, episcopal, some years; i had taken my boys to sunday school, to receive that religious instruction which i was not qualified to give. they had accompanied me to church, always, but i felt as if i had not spoken to them on religious subjects as i ought to have done. it is fourteen years, i think, since i was christened in st. james' church, by rev. william armstrong, whose voice i always loved to hear in the beautiful service of our church. i was confirmed by bishop john fredricton, in trinity church. i well remember the pressure of that reverend hand upon my head, and the impressive words of his address to us who were that day received into the church--"let your inner life be as good or better than your outer life, if you would be worthily known as his children." he desired the young men in particular to take up some useful study, to occupy their leisure hours--something outside of their every-day business of life. what better words could have been said; i would that the young men of the present day should often hear those words and accept them as a rule of their life. i float away from thoughts of my insanity to the days when i was at home going to church with my children. i must return to my subject. they brought the table to my bedside; i kept my eyes closed; i received the bread from the hand of one son, and the wine from the hand of the other. i tasted it, and my fast was broken. i discovered, to my great surprise, it was only toast and tea. they had improved upon my wish, and thought to feed me, their poor wasted mother. they dressed me for the journey; i would not assist them any; they had not obeyed my wish to be left alone in my room all winter; so, when i yielded to them, i left all for them to do; the only thing i did myself was to take from the closet this grey flannel dress--i had made it for traveling, before i left lowell for old orchard. they did not seem to know what they were doing. i had two bonnets, but they never mentioned them, as i remember. they left my night-cap on, and tied a silk handkerchief over it. they carried me down stairs in their arms, and lifted me in the coach. after we were on our way in the cars, i found my hair was hanging down my back; i had nothing to fasten it up with, and i arranged the handkerchief to cover it. i began to feel happy with the thought of going home. i tried to cheer them, and they could not help smiling at me. i wondered they were not ashamed of me, i looked so badly. i told them not to call me mother, to say i was old mrs. sinnett; that they were bringing me home to my friends. poor boys, i wonder if they remember that journey in the cars as i do. at my request, tom brought me a goblet of milk, at two stopping places, and when i found they had brought me to an asylum i felt no fear; i thought i had only to ask and receive what i needed. i knew they thought me crazy, so i would not bid them good-bye, when they left me, but concluded to play lunatic. i refused to kiss lewis when he left me, that dear boy who had watched over me so faithfully, carrying me in his arms from one car to the other. when we changed cars, he placed me in a pullman car, and i thought i was safely hidden from something, i knew not what. i only know i was so happy while i was with my sons; nothing troubled me. i sang and chatted to lewis; he would not leave me a moment; he kneeled beside my berth, and i called him my best of sons, and smoothed his hair with my hand. all my journey through i heard the voice of angels whispering to me, "hold on by the hand of your sons; keep them with you and you will be safe; they are your sons, they are the sons of god,"--and they are. all who do their duty as they were doing, to the best of their ability, are the children of god; for, if we do the best we can, angels can do no more. i thought i was perfectly safe here, and if the doctor had given me the food which should be given to an invalid, or if he had granted any requests i made to him in a reasonable manner, i should not have been prompted to write these lines or recall those memories of the past. one thought brings another. when, on the morning after my arrival, i begged for milk and biscuit, they refused, and then brought a bowl of common looking soup with black looking bakers' bread. i refused to eat it; if it had been beef tea with soda biscuit in it, i would have taken it myself. they did not live to coax crazy people. mrs. mills called in her help, and it did not need many, i was so weak; they held me back, and she stuffed the soup down my throat. when i came here first, i told the nurse my name was mary huestis; that was my maiden name; i hardly know why i prefer that to my sons' name, for they are sons no mother need be ashamed of. my prayers for them have always been, that they might be a benefit to their fellows; that they grow to be good men; to be able to fill their places in the world as useful members of society, not living entirely for themselves, but for the good of others, an honor to themselves and a blessing to the world. if we live well, we will not be afraid to die. "perfect love casteth out fear." i must write no more today. march .--two years ago today i was watching by the bedside of my dying child. driven from our home by the fire, i was tarrying for her to complete her education in the city of lowell, which is second to no city in the world for its educational privileges. free schools, with books free to all its children, and excellent teachers. to lowell schools and to my darling child, i must here pay this tribute. the day after her death, the principal of the school she attended addressed the school with these words--"clara pengilly has attended this school two years, and i have never heard a fault found with her; there has never been a complaint brought to me by teacher or schoolmates concerning her." her teacher brought me two large bouquets to ornament the room at her funeral, sent by the pupils and teachers of the school where she had been a happy attendant, for she loved her teachers, and always told me how good and kind they were to her; no wonder every one loved her, for she had a loving heart and a nature so full of sunshine she could not be unhappy. we had boarded eight months with a lady whose only daughter was blind from her birth. clara loved to lead her out for a walk, and read to her at home; no pleasure was complete unless shared with her blind friend, who was younger than herself, and whose life she could brighten by her willingness to devote her unoccupied time to her service. dear lorelle, we all loved her for her goodness, and pitied her for her infirmity. the boarders and others at her home sent flowers too. her mother arranged a green vine and flowers around her face and in her hand. when she had finished, she said, "that is the last we can do for you, clara; i know she was so fond of flowers, she would be pleased if she could see them." i cared not for the flowers, i only knew that loving heart was stilled in death, and i was left alone; with an effort, i said, "lorelle will never know a truer friend than she who lies here." my tears unbidden flow; why do i go back in memory to those sorrowful days? i know she is happy now. let me draw the veil of charity over the past with all its troubles, remembering only the many acts of kindness done for us by our friends at that time. it is this waiting so long a prisoner, begging to be liberated. my hands will not remain folded or my brain idle. i must write again of poor miss snow. i ventured into her room, feeling anxious to help her by coaxing her into a better frame of mind. she is wasted to a shadow; i am sure if she had any food to tempt her to eat she would grow stronger; some nice bread and milk at bed time would help her to sleep. i soothed her as i would a child in trouble, until she ceased her raving, and then questioned her to discover the cause of her disease. she is a well-educated, intelligent lady. in her ravings she often says she is the only lady in the hall, and seems to have a temper of her own, which has been made more than violent by her stay in this ward. she is very fond of drawing small pencil sketches, and works at them late at night, which i think is certainly injurious. i conclude she is the victim of late hours and fancy work; she acknowledges she used to sew until after twelve, working for bazaars. if the ladies would only come here and study the needs of these poor victims of insanity, and make better arrangements for their welfare, they would find a higher calling than exhausting their energies working for bazaars, and leaving us to the care of those who care nothing for us and will not learn. too much temper and too much indolence rule here. i go in sometimes and coax her to stop talking and lie down. i cover her up to keep her warm; she is blue with the cold. if i could keep her in a nice warm room, with kind treatment and nourishing food! she could not eat that horrible, sour bakers' bread with poor butter. sometimes her food would set in her room a long time. i guess she only eats when she is so starved she can't help it. i eat because i am determined to live until i find some one who will help me out of this castle on the hill, that i may tell the commissioners all about it. sometimes i term it a college, in which i am finishing my education, and i shall graduate some day--when will it be? my impatient spirit chafes at this long delay. i sit at the grated window and think, if i were one of those little pigeons on the window sill i would be happy; content to be anything if only at liberty. april.--the friends of miss short have been here and taken her home, and word returned that she is better. i am thankful to think she is with her mother, and i do not see her so improperly treated; it made me feel wretched to think of her. poor katy dugan's friends came one day. i watched my chance and told one of them to let her mother know she was getting worse and was not well treated. i had many heart-aches for that girl; i scarcely know why. they must have seen she looked worse; her dress of flannel, trimmed with satin of the same color, which looked so nice when she came, was filthy with spots of gruel and milk they had been forcing her to eat. this day, i remember, was worse than common days of trouble. i had been excited by seeing one of the most inoffensive inmates pushed and spoken to very roughly, without having done any wrong. they attempted to comb that poor girl's hair; she will not submit, begs and cries to go down there. i go to the bath-room door to beg them to be gentle with her. mrs. mills slammed the door in my face. she is vexed at any expression of sympathy. again i hear that pitiful cry, and i go up the hall to see what the trouble is. they had taken her in a room to hold her on the floor, by those heavy, strong nurses sitting on her arms and feet, while they force her to eat. i return, for i can't endure the sight. i met mrs. mills, with a large spoon, going to stuff her as she did me. (i was not dyspeptic; i had fasted and would have eaten if they had given me milk, as i requested.) she was angry at me again; she ordered me to my room, and threatened to lock me in. what have i done to merit such treatment? how can i endure this any longer! april .--yesterday was election day of the aldermen of the city of st. john. dr. steeves came in this morning and congratulated me very pleasantly that my son was elected alderman. i thanked him and said i was not at all surprised, for he was very popular in his ward; always kind and courteous to every one, he had made many friends. he must know i am perfectly sane, but i can't persuade him to tell my son i am well enough to go home. my dear lewis has gone eight hundred miles beyond winnipeg surveying. i am sorry to have him go so far. will i ever see him again? but i feel so badly when he comes to see me, and refuses to take me home with him; and i say to myself, "i would die here alone rather than that he, my darling boy, should be shut in here and treated as i am;" for his temper, if so opposed, would make him a maniac. i have dreamed of seeing him looking wretched and crying for fresh air, for he was suffocating. all the time i had those troubled dreams, i was smothering with gas coming in my room through the small grating intended to admit heat to make us comfortable, but it did not. i was obliged to open the window to be able to breathe; my lungs required oxygen to breathe when i was lying in bed, not gas from hard coal. there is one lady whose room is carpeted and furnished well, but she is so cold she sits flat on the carpet beside the little grate, trying to be warm. she has not enough clothing on to keep her warm. her friends call often, but they never stay long enough to know that her room is cold. they cannot know how uncomfortable she is, or what miserable food she has, for we all fare alike. april is nearly gone. tom has promised to come for me on monday; i feel so happy to think i am going to be free once more. i sat on my favorite seat in the window sill, looking at those poor men working on the grounds. there were three; they did not look like lunatics, no overseer near them; they were shoveling or spading, and three ducks followed them. fed by the all-father's hand, they gather food for themselves; the men never disturb them; they cannot be violent. many a farmer would be willing to give one of those men a permanent home for his services. the knowledge that this home is here for them to return to, would ensure them kind treatment at the hand of the farmer, and i am sure they would prefer life on a farm, with good palatable food and liberty, to being shut up here as prisoners and fed as paupers, as we in the ladies' ward are, without one word or look of sympathy or respect extended to us. one day this week, i had been watching one of the men working at the strawberry beds, thinking i would like to live on a farm now, that i might cultivate those lovely berries. the doctor came in to make his usual morning call, in the hall, with a book and pencil in his hand; that is all he ever does for us. i thought i would make him think i thought him a gentleman, which he is not, and perhaps he would be more willing to let me go home. it has taken effect. i suppose he thinks i have forgotten all the doings of the past winter, and that i will not dare to say anything against such a mighty man as he is. i am glad i have taken it down in black and white, so as not to forget the wrongs of the province, and the wrongs of those poor neglected women, of whom i am one. i ought not to write in this manner, but my indignation overcomes me sometimes, and i cannot help it. he is a little more social now than usual, and i suggest that if he bring blackberry bushes from the field, and set them around the fence, keeping the ground irrigated round the roots, he might have as nice fruit as the cultivated. he said yes, he would send some of his men out to his farm and get some, and he left as pleasant as he came. that was the first time he ever left me without being driven away by my making some request, and being refused. this reminds me of the day i begged so hard for a pot of holloway's ointment. i had asked my boys several times to bring it to me, and i thought they always forgot it. i had used it many years, not constantly, only for a little rash on my face at times; it has annoyed me very much lately. this day i had urged him all i could, and he left me, saying he had too much on his mind today. i followed him to the door, saying, "i don't want to think so ill of you, doctor, as that you will not grant me so small a favor--a twenty-five cent favor--and i will pay for it myself." saturday morning.--i am so impatient! i hardly dare to hope. will i be free to breathe the air of heaven again, to walk out in the warmth of his sunshine? perhaps i am punished for questioning the exact truth of that story, so long ago, that i could not quite explain to myself or believe how it could be handed down over so many years. i have stood almost where he has stood, once before in my life. "the foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the son of man hath not where to lay his head." i have been "led by the spirit into the wilderness." pontius pilate is not here to say, "i find no sin in this man," but there are those here who would lock me in, and never let me set my foot outside of these walls, if they knew i was writing this with the hope of laying it before the province. yesterday was bathing-day--a cold, damp april day. no steam on; i tried the radiators, but there was no hot air to come. the young teacher--in whom i was so much interested, and whose name i will not give here, as she always begged me not to mention her name--she stood with me at the radiator trying to find some heat. the doctor came in and i say, "doctor, can't you send up some coal, there is only a few red coals in the grate, no steam on, and we are nearly frozen?" he said, "the hard coal is all gone." "well, send us some soft coal, wood, anything to keep us warm." he left us; no coal came till after dinner. i met one of the nurses in the next ward; i told her our wants, and she sent it by a young man who was always attentive and respectful, but we could not always find a messenger who would take the trouble to find him. the doctor has been in again: mary and i were together as usual. he looked at us very pleasantly, and i said, "you will be able to send us home now soon, surely." he drew me away from her, saying, "i don't wish her to hear this. don't you know, mr. ring went to annapolis and hung himself?" "they did not watch him well," said i, and he left, thinking, i suppose, that he had silenced me effectually. i went to mrs. mills, and enquired about mr. ring, and learned that he had never been here, and was quite an old man. what had that to do with us? we have no wish to harm ourselves or any one else. i see now that is the influence he uses to induce people to leave their friends here. my son told me one day he had kept the asylum so well the public were perfectly satisfied with him; no wonder he conducts it so well when there are so few lunatics here. i suppose he has left me here waiting for me to get satisfied too; well, i am, but as soon as i am out i shall write to mary's mother to come for her, for i can hardly go and leave her here. i have taken her in my heart as my own; she is so good a girl, wasting her precious life here for the amusement of others--i don't see anything else in it. st. john's hotel, april .--at last i am free! seated in my own room at the hotel, i look back at that prison on the hill. i had won a little interest in the hearts of the nurses in our ward; they expressed regret at my leaving. ellen regan, who was the first to volunteer me any kindness, said, "we shall miss you, mrs. pengilly, for you always had a cheerful word for every one." i did not bid all the patients good-bye, for i hope soon to return and stay with them. i would like so much to look after these poor women, who are so neglected. i will ask the commissioners to allow me to remain with them, if only one year, to superintend the female department, not under the jurisdiction of the present superintendent, but with the assistance of the junior physician and the nurses, who each understand the work of their own departments, and will be willing to follow my instructions. i will teach them to think theirs is no common servitude--merely working for pay--but a higher responsibility is attached to this work, of making comfortable those poor unfortunates entrusted to their care, and they will learn to know they are working for a purpose worth living for; and they will be worthy of the title, "sisters of mercy." tuesday.--i have been to the solicitor-general, and left with him a copy of parts of my diary, and i am prepared to attest to its truth before the board of commissioners, whenever it shall meet. he said he was pleased to have my suggestions, as they now had the provincial lunatic asylum under consideration, and assured me he would attend to it. his words and manners assure me he is a gentleman to be relied on, and i feel safe in leaving my case in his hands. june.--i have spent three weeks in fredericton, the capital of new brunswick, while waiting for the board of commissioners to meet and discuss the affairs of the provincial lunatic asylum, concerning which my time at present is devoted. they are members of government, and seem to be too busy for anything. i called on the attorney-general, with what effect he himself best knows; it is not worth repeating here. i will only say, neither he nor his partner quite understand the courtesy due to a woman or lady. it cannot be expected of persons who are over-loaded with business, that they shall have leisure sufficient to oversee the arrangements of the provincial lunatic asylum, which needs, like any other household, a woman's care to make it perfect. in my wanderings since the fire of , i boarded some weeks at the y. w. c. a. home in boston, a beautiful institution, conducted entirely by ladies. it was a comfortable, happy home, ruled by ladies who were like mothers or friends to all its occupants, and under the supervision of a committee of ladies who visit it every week. it is such arrangements we need to perfect the working of our public institutions, where a woman's care is required as in a home. men are properly the outside agents, but women should attend to the inner working of any home. the tewksbury affair of , stands a disgrace to the new england states, who had so long prided themselves on their many public charitable institutions, and which have, without question, been an honor to her people. i am sorry to say they are not all perfect, as i learned from the lips of a young man in this hotel, who looked as if he were going home to die. he had been waiting some weeks in the boston city hospital, until the warm weather should make his journey less dangerous in his weak state. "if i should live a hundred years, i should never get that hospital off my mind," were his words, as he lay back in his chair looking so sad; "a disagreeable, unkind nurse, a cold ward, and miserable food." his words touched a responsive chord in my heart, for my experiences had been similar to his; i can never forget them. let me here entreat the ladies, wherever this book may be read, that they take this work upon themselves. rise up in your own strength, and solicit the governor to appoint you as commissioners, as you are over your old ladies' homes. if the governor has the authority or power to appoint those who now form the board of commissioners of the provincial lunatic asylum, he can surely invest you with the same title, and you will not any longer allow your fellow-sisters to be neglected by those who cannot understand the weakness or the misfortunes that have brought them under the necessity of being protected by the public. before leaving fredericton, i called at the government house to lay my case before his excellency the lieutenant governor, hoping to awaken his sympathy in our cause, and urge him to call an early meeting of the board. i was so anxious to return to the care of those poor feeble women i had left in the asylum; so anxious to right their wrongs, i could not be restrained by friend or foe from finishing this work so near my heart. some of my friends really believe me insane on the subject. there are those who can apply this to themselves, and others whose kindness and hospitality i shall ever remember with grateful pleasure. they will none of them doubt the truth of this statement. governor wilmot did not doubt me. he received me very kindly, as did also his good lady. after conversing with him on the subject until i felt i ought not trespass any longer on his time, i rose to leave, and at the door expressed a wish for a bunch of lilacs that grew in great abundance on large bushes interspersed with trees, and which made the grounds look very beautiful. he gathered me a bunch with his own hand, for which i felt thankful and highly honored; as we walked together i told him my father's name. "lewis huestis," said he, "i knew him well." i had not known that, but i did know that wilmot had always been an honored name in my father's house. when bidding him good-bye, i again referred to the old subject, by saying, "i have lost my home and business by the fire; my sons are scattered abroad in the world and do not need my care; i would like to devote my remaining years, as far as i am able, to better the condition of those poor sufferers in the asylum." he answered, "i hope you will, for i think it will be well for them to have your care, and i will do all i can to assist you." these were his words, as near as i can remember, and i left the government house, feeling as if i had been making a pleasant call on an old friend. i write these last few lines as a tribute of respect to the memory of the name of governor wilmot, and that of my own father, who always had the interests of his country at heart. i returned to the city feeling cheered by the words of encouragement and sympathy i had received. it well repaid me for the trouble of my journey to fredericton. * * * * * i will leave this subject now in the hands of the ladies, wherever this little book may find them, who, having leisure and influence, will not, i hope, fail to use them for the benefit of suffering humanity, remembering we are all children of one father--our father in heaven. improve the talent he has given you, that it may be said to you, "well done, thou good and faithful servant." respectfully, m. h. p. marguerite verne; or: scenes from canadian life. by re. agatha armour. chapter i. new year's eve. "every one for his own. the night is starry and cold, my friend, and the new year blithe and bold, my friend comes up to take his own."--_tennyson_. new year's eve in the fair city of st. john, that queenly little city which sits upon her rocky throne overlooking the broad expanse of bay at her feet. reader, we do not wish to weary you with the known, but love for our own dear new brunswick is surely sufficient apology. it is one of the feelings of human nature to be possessed with a desire to worship the great and titled, to become enamoured with those appendages, which are the symbols of social distinction. let us consider how we, as a people, are privileged. is there any grander title this side of heaven than found in these words, "i am a british subject," and next "i am a new brunswicker"? you who have travelled have often felt your hearts rebound when listening to the eulogiums passed upon our country and its gifted sons through the medium of the pulpit, the platform and the press. "he is a new brunswick boy." ah, those words are sufficient to inspire us with thoughts ennobling, grand and elevating. there are to be found growlers in every clime, and it is only such that will desert their fatherland and seek refuge under foreign skies. we have liberty, right, education, refinement and culture in our midst; we have a good government, noble reforms, and all advantages to make us good and happy. then let us cherish every right and institution which makes our beloved new brunswick the pride of its loyal people. it is such feeling which prompts this work, and if the different scenes throughout the province which we will endeavor to portray, the usages of society, custom, &c., and the few characters introduced from real life, meet your approbation, our highest expectation will be realized. now back to our fair city. on this new year's eve the moon was holding high carnival. wrapped in a costume of silvery radiance, she was displaying her charms to the busy throng beneath with all the coquetry she could summon, to her aid, darting quick glances at youths and maidens, and by covert smiles bringing even the middle-aged man of business to her feet. the air is also influenced by her wooing, and is inclined to be less severe than some hours earlier. floods of light are radiating king square, giving even to its leafless trees a charm of softness and effect. pedestrians are going to and fro, while several halt in the vicinity of the fountain to smoke their pipes and discuss the news of the day. presently a quick step is heard approaching, and a trim little figure greets us, wrapped in a fur-lined cloak, which, despite its ungainliness, cannot conceal the grace of the wearer. as the maiden casts a passing glance we are impressed by the sweet purity of her face--a face that will stamp its image upon more than one heart, and leave memories that cannot be forgotten. such was marguerite verne as we now attempt to introduce her in the fond hope that others will see her as we do. "marguerite," exclaimed the child who had overtaken her as she reached the pavement in front of the royal hotel, "marguerite i am tired running, i thought i never would get up to you. golly, how you do streak along!" "charlie verne, you naughty boy," returned the girl as she confronted her pet brother, his childish face aglow with the late exercise, "i thought you were going to keep house with winnie?' "so i was," said the boy, eyeing his sister closely to watch the effect of his speech, "but the listers have arrived and i had to run and tell you." at this announcement marguerite verne could scarce repress a hearty laugh and her large, deep violet eyes sparkled, and from their changing expressions exhibited such variety of shade that one would scarce venture to say which was the original one. a deeper tinge now rested upon the purely oval cheek as the girl returned the recognition of a thoughtful-looking young man who had the air and manner of one possessed with more common sense than generally falls to the lot of the young men courted by the _creme de la creme_. "miss verne, i see that you too are bent upon enjoying this glorious evening; the old year is going out in all its serenity." "yes indeed, mr. lawson; the old year is dying with all the true greatness that characterizes its life; it has left nothing undone, and if we have failed to garner up its hours sacredly, to us--not it--we lay the blame." "true indeed; but how little do we think of those lessons until they are beyond reach. we make grand resolutions on each new year, but how often do they go to the winds ere the first week has passed around." phillip lawson's words took an earnest tone and his manner was earnest also. his rich, deep voice found its way far down in the maiden's heart; but she would not allow herself to think so. she would not acknowledge to herself that the restless emotions within her heart were other than a passing thought to a very dear friend! she must not see that phillip lawson, in his gifted, manly character, was her hero of all that was good and true, and that his was the nature by which she tested others. as the foregoing remarks turned into a lengthy conversation marguerite scarcely heeded that trinity chimed out the hour of nine when the trio turned their steps homeward, master charlie forming an advance guard, and making the air resound with all the hilarity at his command when he came in friendly contact with some of his "fellers" as he expressed himself. when marguerite bade good night to her companion and stood for a moment in the hallway watching the retreating figure, we will not disclose her thoughts, but will follow her to the drawing-room, where "the listers" are marshalled _en masse_ awaiting her return. "marguerite, you darling!" exclaimed the eldest miss lister rushing forward and embracing the former in a manner that was more demonstrative than conventional, but was accepted with the best of grace, notwithstanding there was to be a repetition four times in succession. mrs. lister was a distant cousin of mr. verne, and having six marriageable daughters on hand, had recourse to much diplomacy in the way of matrimonial speculations. for several years she had been in the habit of spending the new year with the verne family, each year adding one more eligible, until she has now the happy six. it had ever been the boast of mrs. lister that she had attended boarding school, and carried off several prizes for her classic ability; and in order to establish the fact, had named her six daughters after six of the muses. clio, the eldest, inherited the largest part of her mother's ability. the former often regretted that three unruly boys came to interrupt the succession of the classic nine. but all this addition of inspiration at this festive season did not _inspire_ the verne family with any such high-toned sentiments as might have been expected. "marguerite verne," explained the haughty evelyn, the imperious first-born of the family, "you are enough to drive anyone distracted! how can you submit so tamely to being bored to death by such pests? indeed, aunt hester with all her wisdom is preferable to that empty headed woman and her muses." marguerite had retired to her own room. she was sitting at a small ebony writing desk, jotting down a few thoughts in her diary when her sister entered, but now arose and drew forth a luxurious arm-chair for the imperious beauty to recline in. "if worrying myself to death would do me any good, i might try it too, evelyn; but as it does not, i try to make the best of it." "there you are again, with your philosophical ideas. i must expect nothing else from one who cares so little for the opinions of others, and lives only in sight of all the old half-crazed poets and fanatics of the dark ages." marguerite durst not look toward the speaker, lest her quizzical expression might heap further assault upon her; so she sat quietly regarding a favorite print that hung over the mantelshelf. after a few moments silence, evelyn drew herself up haughtily and arose to go, when marguerite felt a rising sensation in her throat, and instantly rushed into her sister's arms. "eve, dearest, i know you are disappointed in not going out this evening, and i am sorry; can you not believe me?" evelyn verne was a beauty--beautiful as an houri, imperial as cleopatra, but merciless as a de medicis. she was a true woman of the world; self was the only shrine at which she worshipped; and if indeed she could feel a momentary sympathetic chord, surely marguerite was the cause. the piercing black eyes send forth a flash that is electrifying, then fix themselves upon her companion. she is perhaps struggling between pride and duty, and it costs her a heavy sacrifice. as she gazes upon that sweet, soulful face she is almost tempted to become a nobler and better being; but the world has too heavy a hold upon her, and slightly pressing a kiss upon marguerite's cheek, she takes leave without saying another word. as the latter listens to the rustle of the silken train through the spacious hall and stairway, she heaves a deep sigh, and once more seats herself beside her desk. on the pages of the little book she pens thoughts worthy of such a soul, and worthy of the memorable eve--worthy of the dying moments of the year which had been her friend, her comforter and her hope. she could look back without many regrets. the hours had not been misspent, and she could say: "old year, i used you well. now that you are nearly gone i will not regret, but try, with god's help, to welcome in your child." marguerite sat thus while the clock struck twelve, when she buried her face in her hands and remained in thoughtful silence--a feeling too reverential for words, as something too sacred for intruding upon. and now the new year had been welcomed in. the moon, in all her majesty, witnessed the solemn pageant; and unseen choristers wafted the tidings from pole to pole. "another year," murmured marguerite, as she gently raised the casement and looked out upon the beauty of the scene. queen square, studded with tributes to the loyalists, was peaceful as the grave. beyond was the calm, blue water of the harbor; while here and there a white sail upon its bosom added to the effect. peace reigns over the city, and the lights have at last disappeared from the verne mansion. let us take the liberty to mention a few facts that may be necessary ere we proceed further. the vernes belonged to a genteel and respectable family. they did not lay claim to an aristocratic ancestry, but for generations could reckon on a spirit of proud independence and honest worth. mr. verne was a man of honor and sound principles in every sense of the word; and he always tried to inculcate those principles in the minds of his children. if he daily saw in his first-born traits of character which he openly condemned and censured, there stood in bold relief upon his heart the pure, high and noble character of his delicate marguerite. nor was he to be disappointed in the younger scions of the family. fred. verne was a noble, manly boy of fifteen, and gave promise of being a good and upright citizen; while the precocious charlie, despite the daily amount of spoiling received in the domestic circle, was a clever little fellow, as ready with an answer as he was ready for his daily supply of chocolate caramels. mr. verne had married when very young, and was still in the prime of manhood. he was not handsome; but an intelligent, open countenance was the most pleasing attraction in his face. one could look upon him the second time without a feeling of dislike or even indifference. but there is another important personage of whom we must make mention--the mistress of the verne mansion. she is, to say it in as few words as possible, an out-and-out woman of the world--one who never says or does anything without considering what will be the world's opinion of her, and one who never says or does anything unless there be some selfish motive at the bottom of it; one who lives only for the gratification of her own selfish ends, so far as her friends and family are concerned, and whose chief delight is show, display and social greatness. it may be said that when mr. verne married his child-wife, who had been petted and spoiled by her elders, he made much allowance for her daily short-comings, and fondly hoped that he might bend the impulsive nature to his will; but when he saw the great mistake he had made, he calmly bowed his head in submission to the decrees of fate, and labored more diligently to set a good example before his children. when vainly remonstrating with his wife, upon the increasing gaiety into which she plunged so wildly, he always found encouragement from the sympathetic marguerite; and when retired from the noise and din of the drawing-room, his favorite amusement was a game of chess, with the latter for partner. it was then that marguerite's deep violet eyes would sparkle and her face glow with enthusiasm, as she followed her father through the mazes of the game, and her clear silvery laughter had more charm than the ravishing strains of the most brilliant fantasia. surrounded by the _elite_ of the city of st. john, evelyn verne was courted by the rich, the gay and the distinguished. it was the sole end of mrs. verne's existence that her daughters should make grand matches. for this purpose she entered upon a career which we intend to pursue through all its straight and crooked paths, hoping in the sequel to impart the sad but profitable lesson! chapter ii. sunnybank. sunnybank, the stately residence of the vernes, is indeed an imposing structure. its towering form and massive appearance mark it as one of the noblest piles in st. john. its costly windows, reflecting all the colors of the rainbow; its solid brick walls, stone pillars and grand entrance, bespeak it the home of wealth and affluence. even the solid brick pavement leading from the main gateway to the terrace marks the substantial tone of the edifice, and impresses one with the stability of its owner. and the statuary, seen from the highway, denotes the taste displayed in the vestibule, with its floor of tesselated pavement, echoing to the tread of footsteps as the corridors of some grand old cathedral. it is now our privilege to be introduced to the interior, and we make good use of our opportunity while mingling with its guests. on this clear wintry evening as we are ushered into the verne drawing-room with its beautifully-frescoed wall and rare painting a pretty sight is presented to our view. seated at the piano is marguerite, who is singing a quaint little ballad for the benefit of a company of children gathered at her feet. she is evidently their queen, as the sly glances at the happy-faced maiden are ever increasing to be repaid by the sweetest of smiles. evelyn verne appeared in a heavy garnet silk with bodice and draperies of the same shade in velvet. her elbow sleeves reveal arms that would rival in miniature those of the master-piece of phidias--the pallas athena--which graced the parthenon in by-gone ages. her hair, of purplish blackness, gives effect to the creamy tints of her complexion, and heightens the damask tinge of the beautifully-rounded cheeks. one glance at this magnificent looking form and you are victimized by her charms; you cast a side glance towards the childish-looking girl at the piano, and you will only pronounce her passing fair. beauty is beauty, and will charm while the world goes on, and while we are endowed with that sense which, in general, has outweighed all others; but in most cases we are, in the end, taught that the beauty of the soul will wear until time is no more, and the beauty that fades is a thing of the past! "evelyn, dearest, if paris had now to decide between the goddesses, he certainly would have awarded you the golden apple," exclaimed the first muse, who never let an opportunity slip to display her knowledge of mythology. "what nonsense you talk, clio!" returned evelyn, whose heightened color betrayed the insincerity of her speech. urania lister, "the fifth muse," as fred. verne had dubbed her, now entered from the conservatory, and throwing aside a scarlet wrap, also joined in the conversation. she was a slight creature, with some pretension to good looks; but there was a sort of languor in her manner that disappointed one ere she had uttered half a dozen sentences. in order to sustain the character her name suggested, she was continually soaring into immensity of space and deducing celestial problems for the uninitiated _habitant_ of this lower sphere. it was when urania had taken one of her upper flights into empyrean air that the fond mother would exclaim: "if galileo were alive to-day i believe he could get ideas from my dear urania." but to return to the drawing-room. the children have been dismissed to their homes, and charlie consigned to the limits of his own apartments. a slight bustle is heard in the hall, and presently two visitors are duly announced by a servant in waiting. a smile of satisfaction beamed on the countenance of the anxious mrs. lister as she eyed the two young gentlemen on their being introduced to her three daughters, and in less time than it would be possible to conceive, she was consummating two brilliant matches for the ancient-looking clio and the celestial urania. be it said for this lady's benefit, and by way of explanation, she had consigned three of the muses to "dear papa," and kept the three most eligible under the shadow of her wing. while the devoted parent is weaving all manner of bright visions, she resolves that practice be not sacrificed to theory, and commences by a skilful contrivance to expatiate upon the ability and goodness of her offspring. montague arnold is indeed an expert in all that concerns society through its labyrinthine phases. not a look or tone but he has thoroughly studied, and ere he is many moments in an individual's society can accommodate his pliable nature to every demand. his physique is striking, his face handsome, his manner engaging, and he is reputed to be wealthy. his family connections are desirable, and he has education, accomplishment, and the benefit of a lengthened tour on the continent. what then is to debar such an one from entry into the best social circle the city affords? will we overstep the bounds of charity and describe a scene in which montague arnold and his companion, hubert tracy, played a conspicuous part a few hours previous? ah, no! "tell it not in gath!" let them be happy while they may. of hubert tracy we might have a more favorable opinion. there is still upon his broad, fair forehead a trace of manliness and honor, but there is about the lower part of his youthful looking face a lack of determination that threatens to mark him as a victim for the wary and dissipated man of the world. conversation had now become general, while music and games filled up the intervals. evelyn verne was indeed the object upon whom mr. arnold lavished his attentions--a fact not overlooked by mrs. lister. hubert tracy was devoting himself to the muses, and occasionally venturing a glance at marguerite, who took much interest in the younger members of the circle, and seemed happy in her devotedness to brother fred, and his chum, silently engaged over a game of chess. mrs. verne smiled, chatted and listened to each as opportunity served, and looked with fond delight upon the imperious evelyn, who, by a series of coquettish manoeuvres, held her admirer in chains apparently ready to be put to any test for her sake. "this new beau of eve's is in earnest, and there is no chance for my dear urania. well, well! men do not appreciate a girl of such heavenly ideas as my celestial-minded daughter, and they throw themselves away upon a pretty face without an ounce of brains." poor mrs. lister had murmured these sentences after the events of the evening had transpired and she was enjoying the privacy of her own room. she always expressed her thoughts to herself, as she judged best never to let her dear girls know that she felt anxious for their settlement in life. a few mornings later while the family lingered over the late breakfast in the handsomely-furnished morning-room, with its delicate tints of mauve and gold, the conversation turned upon the gossip of the preceding days. miss verne had not sufficiently recruited from the dissipation attendant upon a large assemblage, given by a lady friend in honor of some relative who had arrived from ottawa. she was inclined to be resentful and petulant, and found fault with everything, from the delicious hot coffee and tempting rolls to the generous sunbeam that danced in at the opposite window, and it increased her anger so that she could scarcely restrain herself in the presence of her guests. "you are somewhat uncharitable this morning, my dear," was the only reproof of mrs. verne, while she sought to cover her annoyance in a marked attention towards the others at the table. "indeed, miss marguerite; it will be a long time before i shall tell as many lies for you again. i was really ashamed, for they all knew that they were broad falsehoods," exclaimed miss verne, casting an angry glance at her sister, who sat between her mother and mrs. lister, looking the very picture of contentment and good nature. "i am sorry, eve, that you committed any grievous sins on my account, for it was a very unnecessary thing to do." "unnecessary! be careful, my dear little madge, or i will out with the whole truth; and if i do not bring the blushes to your cheek my name is not evelyn verne." "come, come, girls--never mind more talk now," said mrs. verne, rising from her seat, and motioning them to withdraw, at the same time trying to conceal a look of displeasure that had contracted into a dark frown. mrs. verne was a woman not to be trifled with. she had a look of one born to command, and well each member of her family was aware of the fact. she was a handsome woman, of proud and dignified presence, high-tempered, and in many instances unreasonable, her opinions being strengthened by the force of circumstances, and very seldom on the side of right. on this morning in question she was inclined to feel somewhat ruffled at marguerite, rather than the aggressor. miss verne had thrown out a hint that was more effective than a well-timed speech of polished oratory, and well she knew it. "such a ridiculous thing to think of," repeated the haughty mistress with emphasis, as she swept from room to room giving orders to each domestic, and arranging and rearranging matters to meet her own taste and convenience. the pretty crimson cashmere morning robe, with relief of creamy lace, hung in graceful folds and set off mrs. verne's form to advantage; and as you looked upon her then and thought how she must have looked more than twenty years in the past, you could not blame mr. verne for seeking her to grace his luxurious and beautiful home. evelyn verne has picked up a very sensational novel and is languishing on a divan of crimson velvet and old gold plush, with a drapery of beautiful design which she had thrown aside. one arm is gracefully curved around her head, while the other clasps the book, and in contrast with the rich hue of oriental costume resembles that of polished ivory. the passage being read is certainly pleasing--yes, rapturous--for a current of an electrifying nature suffuses the slightly-pale cheeks and delicate lips, and again evelyn verne wears a beauty that is fatal in its effects. while the latter is engaged in this selfish manner we hasten to a somewhat odd-looking apartment, which, from its confused array of books, playthings, fishing-tackle, hammocks, old guns, powder-horns, costumes that had assisted in personating pages and courtiers, and also many other articles of less pretensions, might be taken for a veritable curiosity-shop. a central figure gives interest to the surroundings and prompts our curiosity to watch the proceedings. the mischievous smile upon marguerite verne's face is of sufficient proof that she is engaged in a pleasant occupation. she has pressed two of the misses lister into willing service, and they are a happy group. "what will this make, madge?" yelled charlie, with as much as his lungs had capacity, holding up an old green velvet tunic with enormous supply of tinsel. "i'll go as coeur de lion, and wear it," exclaimed little ned bertram, snatching the precious article from the other. "nonsense, children!" cried marguerite, who, with her companions, laughed long and heartily at the ludicrous representation of the "knight of the black plume." considerable time had been spent in bringing these would-be heroes to any decision as to their respective characters. ned wished to be richard the third, and charlie that of richmond and repeat the triumphs of bosworth; but meeting such obstinate opposition from their council, turned their attention to "something commoner," as ned expressed himself. after several hours intermingled with side-splitting laughter and grave discussion, a fair representation of robinson crusoe and his man friday was produced, while marguerite and her friends received more compliments from the young aspirants than the most gallant cavalier of the sixteenth century ever paid to the queen of love and beauty. but the last remark was a deep thrust from the innocent and unconscious boy. "you darling old madge! i am going to tell mr. lawson you got us up, and i am sure we will get the prize. and i bet you i'll not forget to put a word in for you too, miss marguerite, and mind you mr. lawson don't consider me no small account." the manner in which this twelve-year-old urchin got off the speech had a telling effect. his air of importance brought a burst of laughter, but it could scarcely hide the blushes that played hide-and-seek on the girl's face--which fact fortunately escaped the notice of the listers. the long-looked-for hour has arrived, and crusoe and friday emerge from their "den," as miss verne contemptuously designated the curiosity-shop. on this occasion marguerite remains at home. her constitution is rather delicate, and owing to a slight cold and throat irritation it is deemed advisable to exercise caution. "i am sorry that you will not have your papa's company this evening. there is to be a meeting of the board. there is always something going on." "don't mind me, mamma. please bear in mind i am good company for myself. i remember once reading a passage in some book which said that all the pleasure we derived had its source in ourselves, and not in external objects. i often think of it and believe it to be true." "what a sensible, but conceited girl!" exclaimed the proud matron as she kissed marguerite, and sallied forth to chaperone the misses lister and their loquacious mamma. "you dear old room, i'm with you once again," said the girl in half dramatic tones, as she drew her favorite arm-chair near the grate and sat down, not to read but to weave bright, golden dreams--fit task for a sweet maiden of eighteen summers--with a quaint simplicity of manner that is more captivating than all the wily manoeuvres that coquetry can devise. were there any pretty pictures in those dreams? yes. but those that gave the most pleasure she tried hard to shut out from her sight and with a gentle sigh murmured "it can never be." sweet marguerite! has she her "concealments" too? chapter iii. a noble character. in phillip lawson, a young lawyer of more than average ability, is realized pope's definition of an honest man--"the noblest work of god." those who think that all lawyers are a set of unscrupulous and unprincipled men are sadly mistaken. there are in our midst men of the legal profession who follow the paths of high-souled honor and integrity with as unerring coarse as the magnet the north pole. but it is in a special sense we wish to speak. phillip lawson is sitting at his desk in one of the upstair apartments of a large building not many rods from "the chambers." his office is not inviting in its appearance--no luxurious leather-upholstered arm-chairs, brussels carpeting--nothing to suggest ease or even comfort. stamped upon every inch of space enclosed within those four bare walls we fancy we can almost see the words "up-hill work! up-hill work"!--and look toward the young aspirant to see if he is in the least disheartened thereby. but our friend receives us with a gracious smile and extends his hand in a manner that is hearty and genuine. even the tone of his voice is assuring, and we listen, wrapt in admiration, forgetful that we are trespassing upon his generosity. but we must first introduce you personally to the subject of our remarks, that you may form your own impression: phillip lawson is not handsome. his large irregular features are not in keeping with the proportions we call classic, nor is the sallow complexion any improvement; but despite these facts, there is indeed much that is attractive in mr. lawson's face. his gray eyes have a tender sympathetic look--tender as that of a woman; his brows have the reflection of genius as they are being knitted over some intricate and perplexing law points at issue; and the look of benevolence expressed in the lips, mouth, and chin, impart a tone of self-respect and dignity which, united with culture and refinement, make our legal friend an ornament to the profession. nor is it when office hours are over that mr. lawson's labors are ended. his services are freely given to many societies. old and young, rich and poor, can testify to the fact. yet he does not rest here. many an hour the midnight oil has burned low as this thoughtful student sat poring over pile upon pile of some old work as he kept up his never-flagging research, or penned his thoughts with marvellous rapidity. as anyone appears to better advantage in a neat, cosy little library, with a bright fire burning in the grate, than in a cheerless, dim and prosy den, called by way of courtesy, an "office," we thus look in upon the young man of books and letters. phillip lawson has just returned from a meeting in connexion with his church, and judging from his haggard looks, has had a busy day. his bright-eyed little sister has made her appearance at his elbow, and has placed upon the pretty five-o'clock table a cup of coffee and some of her own making of tea-cakes. "lottie, you silly little puss, why did you go to such trouble?" asked the admiring brother, as he took the little hands in his and looked into the piquant face for answer. "just as if i am going to let you work yourself to death and starve you into the bargain! oh, no, my big brother, i am too selfish to keep you for myself to do any such thing; so go now and take the coffee while it is hot, else i shall have to bring more." lottie lawson shook her head with all the determination of a miss of fourteen, and emphasized the fact by settling herself very cosily into a low seat to see that every cake is disposed of to her satisfaction. "have you anything to tell me, little one? you know i can talk and eat at the same time," said phillip, sipping his coffee with the _abandon_ of an epicure. "indeed, i have not one bit of news worth telling. i hear anything except a lot of the silly stuff the girls bring to school." "well, that must be worth something, arising from such a variety of sources," replied the young man, his grave face expressive of the fund of true humor within. "suppose you heard of the quarrel between maud harrington and hattie reynolds?" "no; what was it about?" "oh! i can hardly tell you; but it was at recess, and nearly all the girls were out, except three or four. maud said that carrie wilson's mamma had been calling at mrs. simpson's and that she said that mrs. ashley told that hattie's sister belle was the most dowdy-looking girl at the langley's party." "how did hattie find it out?" asked phillip, with all the gravity he would exercise on one of his clients. "oh! you know listeners never hear anything good about themselves. hattie was listening and never said a word about it until she got home, and then hattie's mother went to all the folks who were mixed up in it and they had an awful time of it. oh, yes, and what do you think?----" lottie gave another piece of news of much more importance to her brother than the preceding one, but he very quietly kept his own counsel, and soon after dismissed the little maiden, that he might take up a few hours of hard study. the student lamp was lighted, and new fuel added to the grate. phillip lawson sat himself down; but it cost him great effort to concentrate his thoughts upon the work before him. still he labored on and fought manfully with the intruding thoughts, that, despite all resistance, would at times be heard. but duty gained the victory, and it was not until the young man had placed the much-prized manuscript in its resting place, drawn his chair nearer the hearth, and lit a cigar with the blessed expectation of having a puff of the weed, that he again reverted to the banished subject. "how the child could hear such a thing! much as i dislike gossip i should, like to question her further, but i dare not encourage such things in a child," murmured the young man, involuntarily pressing his hand upon his brow, as if bent upon study. and it was a study both pleasant and unpleasant. it presented two pictures--one fair and bewitching, which lit up the student's face with its reflection, while the other, dark and lowering from its deep and gloomy appearance, shed a cloud of despondency and sadness upon the thoughtful brow, leaving thereon an expression that was fretful and annoying. "if the fellow were worthy of her i would not care so much, i could and _would_ live it down; but for me to see her associated with him through life, it is something dreadful. and what am i to do? warn them of the danger myself? oh, no; that will never do! i will be accused of plotting to secure the prize myself. but you will certainly do it in justice to the man whom you value as a true friend, if for nothing else," were the burning thoughts that forced themselves uppermost, and bade the young man reflect very seriously. "yes, that is a motive sufficient to nerve any man; but there is a deeper one--yes, i will admit it--a selfish one." there was a struggle going on worthy the soul of this noble-minded youth. he was trying to solve a problem which vacillated between right and wrong. it was no common task, for when duty pointed the way, the form of self overshadowed the path, and showed only fitful gleams of light. "i will be cautious; but she must not be sacrificed to the artful wiles of unprincipled tricksters while i have an trinity. come what may, i must and _will_ speak out!" phillip lawson thus resolved, with a sense of relief. he knew now how to act, and his mind was clear, calmly awaiting the hour to carry his resolutions into effect. but how often do a few careless words change the whole course of action which hours of thought had premeditated. phillip lawson's high-toned resolutions by these means were scattered to the winds, and he turned once more to the lofty aspirations of his intellectual nature for refuge. let us explain: it is the hour of twilight, and the streets have an air of desertion. the people of fashion that are daily to be seen on king and prince william streets have retired within their palatial residences, and none are abroad except an occasional man of business, with wearied and abstracted air, soon to find rest in the bosom of his family. suddenly a handsome turnout claims our attention, and instantly the driver assists a lady to alight. she is dressed in costly furs and velvet, and her haughty mien shows that her associations and preferences are with the patrician side of nature. "will you come in, too, rania? i need not ask marguerite, lest she might miss a chance of seeing 'farmer phil' and lose effervescence of the hayseed. do you know he is always associated, in my mind, with homespun and hayseed." evelyn verne laughed at the cleverness of her remark, and adjusting her mantle entered a publisher's establishment, followed by the said rania lister. "homespun and hayseed," muttered a muffled figure as he stood in the recess of a doorway, from which situation he could see each occupant of the sleigh and hear every syllable that was uttered. "homespun and hayseed! ah! my proud beauty, the effervescence of hayseed is less noxious than the stench odors inhaled from dissipation and vice, notwithstanding the fact that they are perfumed over with all the garish compliments and conventional gallantries that society demands." phillip lawson had a highly-wrought imaginative temperament. he had not heard more than those few words, but his mind was quick to take in the whole situation. he could hear the lengthy speeches of ridicule and sarcasm aimed at him from every possible standpoint, and he felt the more determined to live down the scathing thoughts. the man did not hear the reply by marguerite verne to her arrogant sister, but he calmly and slowly repeated the words--"god bless you, noble girl!" he still had faith in the purity of her mind, and would have given much to be able to convince her of the fact. it did, indeed, seem a coincidence that the moment phillip lawson uttered the words above quoted, an almost perfect repetition found their way into marguerite's heart, and left a deep impression which all the taunts of the subtle evelyn could not shake off. nor did it seem strange to her when she fancied that a figure, on the opposite side of the street, hurrying along at a rapid pace could be none other than the subject of her thoughts. * * * * * "a delightful evening, indeed. it is almost too fine to remain indoors." the speaker is none other than mr. lawson. he is looking his best in the neatly-fitting dress suit, with all the little make-ups necessary to complete a gentleman's evening costume, and while he leisurely surveys the groups of pretty faces on every side, is also engaged in entertaining a bewitching little brunette, charmingly attired in cream veiling and lace, with clusters of lovely damask roses to enhance the brilliancy of her complexion. the scene was truly intoxicating. mrs. holman, the fashionable belle of society and wife of one of the leading physicians of the city, was entertaining a brilliant assemblage of the _elite_. the informal announcement of her grand "at home" had kept society in a delightful state of anticipation for the past ten days, and reality was indeed equal to all that could be devised. the grand drawing-room, furnished with regard to the beautiful in art, was certainly a fit receptacle for such an array of beauty and grace. there was the exquisite blonde, with face of angelic purity; next came the imperial cleopatras, with their dusky grandeur of style rivalling that of empresses; and conspicuous among the latter was evelyn verne. her amber-satin robes revealed the fact that she was an adept in the art of dress, and spared no pains to display the beautifully-rounded form and graceful carriage as she whirled through the mazes of the waltz, with montague arnold as partner. the latter was indeed a handsome man--one that is sure to attract a fashionable woman. there is a sarcastic expression lurking around the well-formed mouth, that has not, to the intelligent mind, a wholesome tendency; but then there is such a dash of style, and an amount of gay and charming sentiment in every word, that the resistless montague arnold finds himself an important adjunct to every gathering representing wealth and prestige. to an ordinary observer the contrast between phillip lawson and the acknowledged beau of society never appeared more striking, and many would exclaim, "well, lawson is a very nice fellow, but then he is awkward, and makes a poor appearance in society." at this moment a familiar and graceful figure engaged the attention of the young lawyer. marguerite verne has been dancing, and accidentally finds herself seated near the conservatory in which phillip stood. he is instantly at her side and it is then that the real beauty asserts itself--beauty of soul. "miss marguerite, i see you are determined to enjoy yourself, if i may judge by the number of dances you have already participated in," said the young man, eager to join in conversation with the gentle but dignified girl. "why are you not doing likewise, mr. lawson? now if all the gentlemen were like you what would be our fate? what an array of hopeless wallflowers there would be! really i feel half angry at you already!--" marguerite stopped suddenly in her remarks. hubert tracy came to claim her for the next dance, and as she took the arm of the latter, she quickly turned towards phillip lawson exclaiming, "remember, i will be back in a few moments to finish what i intended to say. indeed you need not think to escape censure so easily;" while the accompanying ripple of silvery laughter "low and sweet" were something to contemplate in the happy meantime. "mr. lawson is evidently not intended to be a society man," remarked hubert tracy to his partner, when they had reached the other end of the room. "in my opinion he is all the more to be appreciated," returned the other in a tone of reproof which stung the young man with deep anger and resentment; but he was too artful to express himself, and from that moment there entered into his mind a firm resolve to lessen the high estimate that marguerite verne had formed of the would-be lover. chapter iv. a scene of hilarity. several weeks had elapsed since hubert tracy had made up his mind to thwart the man whom he hated with a bitter hate. he was not backward in expressing his thoughts to the accomplished mr. arnold, who entered into the project heart and soul, and discussed the subject with all the nonchalance his shallow nature was capable of. on the evening in question they are seated at a small side-table, profusely decorated with champagne bottles, glasses, and a few delicate morsels of refreshments. "at the bazaar, dick?" exclaimed montague, stroking his artistically-waxed moustache with considerable dexterity. the individual addressed as dick was certainly a dude of the fifteenth degree--his pale-blue pantaloons being sufficient proof without venturing another glance. his movements, voice and manner were constant reminders of the excruciating assertion, "i'm a dude." but of the question. "oh! is that you, arnold? i really did not expect to see you here to-night. how is business at the governor's? hear you are making a bold dash there?" "yes, you can bet on that! i'm the white-headed boy there now." as arnold was in a short time highly exhilarated by the contents of the table, he became very communicative, and as his conversation was not such as would be under the head of pure language, we will leave him to make merry with his set of jovial companions. hubert tracy was calm and self-possessed. he was too much intent upon some plans to allow himself to become incapable. he had "another iron in the fire," to quote his expression as he thought the matter over to himself, and called upon all the powers unknown to come to his aid. it was within a short time that hubert tracy had become vitiated in his moral nature. he had hitherto been known as a good-living young man--one that respected what was good and pure; but the old, old story--he fell in with bad company, and almost fell beyond reprieve. you ask, "had he a home?" he had, indeed, a home, where all that was good and pure was daily practised--loving, warm-hearted sisters, and a fond trusting mother had not the power to drag him back from the tempting gulf of dissipation and allurement. but we will not say that their prayers were lost. there was yet a small, still voice, that would intrude itself upon the young man, and despite his attempts to silence it forever, would steal upon him in the silent hour of midnight, and haunt him in the noisy abodes of revelry and carousal. it even forces itself upon him now as he sits planning a scheme to outwit his rival. the voice is repeating over and over again the words "lawson is a good young man," and they are re-echoed until hubert tracy raises his head and glances around as if to convince himself of the reality. "a good young man," he murmurs bitterly; "i was one myself--in the past." a bitter groan escaped the lips of the speaker as he uttered the sentence, and his face became stone-like in expression. "it is of no use; i must not give up. the fellow is good; but what is that to me now? if he win the day, i am lost forever--for it is only through her i will be a better man--and surely, with lawson's nature, he would willingly make the sacrifice. but here i am, moralizing like a preacher," cried the young man, as he arose and began pacing up and down the floor in an excited manner. "by heaven! it won't do to give up! if i ever expect to be a better man i must first fall still lower!" a strange method of reasoning indeed! but a striking illustration of the fact that degenerate natures have always some loop-hole to crawl through in order to shield themselves from just reproach. hubert tracy had not sufficient moral courage to take upon himself the responsibility of his actions. he had not faith to strike out on the path of right, and with a sense of his own helplessness, turn to providence for his guide. oh no, he could not see ahead of him with an honest hopefulness; but instead "an ever-during dark surrounds him," and he, with all the cowardice of his nature, consoles himself with the thought that the nobility of phillip lawson is apology for his base actions. it was after such reverie that hubert tracy bethought himself of an engagement he had made to join a number of acquaintances at a whist party. he straightened himself up and cast a glance in the mirror opposite to see if he would "pass muster" in a crowd. "guess i'm all right," he exclaimed, stroking his fingers through the masses of chestnut curls that clung so prettily around his well-shaped head. "halloo, tracy, not going so soon? the night's young yet, boy! come, sit down and have some of the 'rosy,'" shouted a rubicund-faced youth, with a generous proportion of carrotty hair crowning his low flat forehead. "sit down tracy," exclaimed another, slapping him on the back by way of accompaniment to the words: "we'll not go home till morning," which song the whole company began to roar in a style more forcible than artistic. when the last strains of music had spent its force and a general interchange of silly speeches had been made, the young man once more rose to go, but a youth with broad scotch accent seized him by the arm exclaiming: "don't go yet, tracy dear; for if ye do, ye need'nt come back here." "a poet of the first water," cried a voice from behind, at which all joined in another roar of laughter, which reached its climax when a feminine-looking youth exclaimed, "what a pity the government have not discovered such talent! they would surely have him for poet laureate." before quiet was again restored tracy took advantage of the occasion to cover his retreat, and hastily gained a small side entrance which led to the suspicious-looking alley not many yards from a very public thoroughfare. having reached the street without any serious apprehension, he then set off at a rapid pace in the direction of his lodging. a careful toilet, including some necessary antidotes, and we find the subject of our remarks an honored guest in one of the luxurious drawing-rooms in the city. not a trace of the recent association is visible as mr. tracy takes his seat at a whist-table with an interesting and amiable young lady for partner. "what a brilliant young man mr. tracy is," remarked an anxious mamma to a lady sitting near, who also was on the _qui vive_ for an eligible _parti_ in the capacity of a son-in-law. "don't you think miss simpkins is very forward; just see how she is flirting with mr. tracy. i'm glad she is no relation of mine." miss dorothy strong had ventured the above speech in hopes of testing the _strong_ tendencies of her audience. she was a spinster of youthful pretension, and invariably took occasion to condemn any such exhibition on the part of others a dozen years her junior. not meeting any remonstrance she made quite a speech on the familiarity of young ladies, their want of dignity, and ended in a grand peroration upon the conceit of the young men, their vicious habits and all short-comings she could bring to bear upon the subject. but miss dorothy's speech was unhappily chosen, and therefore "lost its sweetness upon a desert air." "sour grapes," whispered a pretty miss of sixteen to her elder sister, as they stood apart from the others and watched the effect of the oration. as we glance towards the said miss simpkins and watch the game for a few moments, we feel certain that hubert tracy is not deeply concerned whether he win or lose. he is evidently studying a deeper game--one on which he would willingly stake all he possessed. "now, mr. tracy, that was mine as it lay!" cried his partner, somewhat petulantly, as she noted the mistake. "never mind this time; i will look out better again," said the culprit, his penitential look being sufficient apology for a more grievous offence. "if i didn't know you better, tracy, i would say you were in love," exclaimed a fashionable young man, engaged as bookkeeper in one of the largest wholesale firms in the city. "you seem to have great confidence in your own opinion, mr. berkeley," retorted miss simpkins, who, be it said, was a girl of much moral stamina, having an aversion to conceited young men, and let no opportunity slip when she could give a home-thrust. "pray don't be so captious, lottie; i am certain that mr. berkeley's opinions are always founded on correct observation," timidly ventured a mild-looking little woman, whose speech had no other motive than a desire to throw oil on troubled waters. as the game progressed, the party became more interested, and after an hour or more thus engaged miss simpkins was congratulated on her run of good luck; and mr. tracy, to show his appreciation of her ability, turned out some pretty compliments. "where is mr. arnold to-night, mr. tracy?" asked one of the guests, as the party stood in the hall making their adieux to the hostess. "i cannot say," replied the young man, tugging at his great coat with more vehemence than was necessary, but affording relief to hide this oracular reply. "oh! you need not ask that question," exclaimed a voice near; "we all know that he is at 'sunnybank,' paying his devoirs to the peerless evelyn." the speaker was a young lady, and the tone of this speech intimated that jealousy was at the bottom of it. but there was another side to the story. turning to hubert tracy, with an air of playful badinage, the young lady continued: "and i believe that miss marguerite has a lover too. surely, mr. tracy, you must know about it for you are on intimate terms with the family. you can enlighten us upon the subject." hubert tracy was master of his feelings, but he had difficulty to suppress himself. an opportune bustle among some of the other guests gave him time to reply in a cool and wholly indifferent manner which would turn their attention to another source. it was only when this would-be suitor had thrown off the mask of studied indifference that he began to realize the state of his mind. "it will never be," he cried, in a fit, half-anger, half-emotional, as he paced his room during the silent hours that precede the dawn. "i don't want to injure the fellow in any other way. arnold says wipe him out; but--heavens! those words--he is a good young man! what makes them haunt me! it seems as if my mother and the dear girls at home are repeating them to me: why was i not dragged up, instead of living hourly under the influence of a sainted mother and devoted self-sacrificing sisters? ah! young man; it is a hard struggle for you to fall when you think of 'home, sweet home!'" such was the soliloquy of hubert tracy as he sat himself down in a half-desperate state and commenced writing a letter with that nervous haste which showed he was anxious to get rid of the disagreeable task at once. after the envelope had been addressed the writer gave a sigh of relief, and rising from his seat, exclaimed: "heavens! i would rather than a fortune it was over with!" despite the fact that curiosity has been defined "the lowest emotion of the soul," we cannot forbear glancing over the content of the letter which seemed to affect the writer so deeply. it ran thus:-- st. john, jan. th, -. _dear friend_,--intended to write you some days ago, but am now at fever heat, and manufacture my thoughts accordingly. going to make no excuse, but come to the point right off. you heard the report about lawson. it is too true, and if i cannot choke him off somehow, it is all up with me. i want to get the fellow out of the way. can you secure that site for him instead of poor jim watters? if we can only get that deuced sprig of the law entrapped out there, some goodly stroke of malaria may come to the rescue, and i can breathe the grateful fog with double freedom. "give the devil his due," i believe the fellow is a veritable mark tapley--jolly under all circumstances--and will in the end thank us for giving him a change of climate and the vicissitudes of life so invigorating to his athletic and muscular composition. much depends upon you to think and act at once. saw that "drummer" yesterday; not a bad sort of a fellow. he speaks well of you--says you are a tramp. go to headquarters on receipt of this and write immediately. if lawson can be induced to go, my prayers will follow you for life. yours in dilemma, h. t. this epistle--disconnected and vague as it seems--needed no further explanation on the part of the writer. the recipient was acquainted with the whole history of hubert tracy's career and also that of montague arnold. it is necessary to add that while this correspondence was being carried on, that hubert tracy was a daily caller at mr. lawson's office, and without any apparent effort, had the satisfaction of knowing that the young lawyer was much attracted by his engaging manners and persuasive tongue. it had been considered somewhat strange that a man of lawson's integrity should look with favor upon a gay youth whose preferences were ever on the side of conviviality, but many wise-headed seniors said that the influence might be exerted upon the other side and tracy would thank heaven for the star which guided him thither. it was surprising how many little attentions were paid our young lawyer from the fact of the newly-formed friendship, and how many consultations were held as regards a promising field which glittered before the eye of the hopeful aspirant. a wide range of labor lay within his grasp, and phillip lawson was not made of the stuff to lose a prize when it could be attained at any cost of self-sacrifice and personal feeling. with herculean effort he shakes off the bitter thoughts that hourly intrude within the privacy of his own heart, and armed with all the moral courage and true heroism of his soul he goes forth into the world's conflicts a noble defender of the rights of true manhood! chapter v. morning calls--"gladswood." a bevy of fair and interesting young girls are grouped around marguerite verne in the spacious bay-window of the library. one, a bewitching brunette, dressed in slight mourning, is indeed a pretty picture to contemplate. louise rutherford possesses a face and form which bespeaks a high degree of idealism--an aesthetic nature that is lofty and inspiring. as she turns toward the fair young hostess, there is an expressive look of sympathy that leads one to know they are firm friends. "it is no use to say anything against it if _you two_ have made up your minds," exclaimed a good-natured looking maiden of seventeen, who had been trying to convince her audience that they had not selected the most fashionable characters for the coming parlor entertainment. "that's just what i always have said, mattie. you know well what damon proposes pythias will ever agree to," ventured another devotee with a "cute" little face, tiny hands and tiny feet, with decisive tone and dignity of manner showing that she was beyond the ordinary type of girlhood, whose highest ambition is to have a good time, cheat her teachers out of as many lessons as she can, and walk, skate and dance, with a train of admirers ever at her command. helen rushton was a native of halifax and had been bred upon strictly conservative principles, but there was an innate generosity of heart that converted them into a happy medium. she had relatives in st. john, and hearing much of its advantages and disadvantages, had accepted an invitation to see for herself, and now, after six months had been passed amid the grateful breezes and invigorating fog, she dreaded the approaching season, which demanded her return home. marguerite verne was indeed the crowning deity on that happy morning, as she replied to the many little speeches intended for her benefit, and as the color came and went she was truly worthy of all the admiration then and there bestowed. she is in striking contrast to louise rutherford whose black cashmere costume forms an effective back-ground. marguerite's delicate cream-colored morning robe is also relieved by the shades of garnet worn by the others. much real happiness is exhibited as one looks upon every countenance within the radius of her smiles. no jealousy lurks upon the brow of any. thrice happy marguerite! the secret of making others happy lies within the confines of your own unselfish nature! "well, girls, i declare, you have not told me one bit of news. surely there must be something going on worth talking about," exclaimed a new comer who had pounced in upon the company _sans ceremonie_. "nothing much, josie," returned marguerite, "we have just been having an old-fashioned chat, and i am not sorry to say gossip has been at a discount." "oh, you bad girl! now, had that been louise i would have been 'hoppin', but, girls, you see, we take everything from madge." "yes, anything from her is worth coming from halifax to hear," exclaimed helen rushton, rising from her position and crossing over to the range of bookshelves that adorned the opposite walls. "well, it's no use; i'm out of my element here. i can't get up to your high-toned talk. look at louise--reminds one of a roman empress--and you, my self-conceited haligonian, must follow suit; was there ever such a set?" the manner in which this speech was dictated set the circle in a roar of laughter, and josie jordan felt repaid seventy-times-seven. "helen is going to leave us soon. that is news," exclaimed louise rutherford, glancing at the incorrigible josie. "but bad news," chimed in marguerite. "not going home so soon, helen," ventured josie, with an earnest, inquiring glance. "i am only going to fredericton, or the celestial city, as it is generally called," said the other in reply. "pardon me, helen, but the manner in which you say that word only would lead one to suppose you did not entertain a high opinion of our seat of government. i have been there during several sessions, and i always felt sorry when the time was up, and the m.p.p.'s and their families turned their faces homeward." the speaker was louise rutherford--her face aglow with an enthusiasm, called up by those pleasing associations which gave rise to her speech. "louise rutherford," said helen rushton, the color mounting higher in her cheeks, "you misinterpret my thoughts. if i have not sufficient command of the powers of speech to express myself without blunder, you should not attribute it to want of charity. indeed," added the girl, with more than due emphasis, "if, for no other reason, i should speak respectfully of the place, from the fact that i have very dear friends there." "josie, this is all your doings," cried marguerite, raising her hand in a menacing gesture and trying playfully to restore quiet. "i'm always bent upon mischief," cried josie, her eyes sparkling with merriment. "indeed, at home, i am treated to that highly- seasoned speech every hour of the day, and now i don't think i could live without it." "helen, my dear, i did not"--"think to shed a tear in all my miseries," shouted josie, in a stagy and tragic style, and then, 'twixt laughter and song, attempted a series of courtesies worthy a star actress. "why did you interrupt louise when she was going to say something good?" asked marguerite in a half-reproachful tone. "just because i want no scenes until to-morrow evening, when miss louise rutherford and miss rushton will not display their histrionic ability to a desert air." "hear! hear!" cried a voice from without, and instantly a promising youth dashed in _sans ceremonie_, claiming all the familiarity due a younger brother. fred. verne's arrival changed the current of conversation. louise and helen were soon interested in the costumes to be worn at the theatricals, and marguerite's good taste was always to be consulted on such occasions. "madge is a genius of the first order. charlie and the boys all swear by her, and say she would beat the fellow that invented the carnivals." "fred, do be moderate," cried marguerite; who at the same moment could not repress a feeling of pride in the boy's earnestness and filial affection. but fred, was not to be gainsaid, and edged in his witticisms with an air of infinite satisfaction. trinity chimed out the hour of twelve, and served as a reminder for the withdrawal of the guests. josie had succeeded in getting up a first-class encounter with the indomitable fred, and then beat a hasty retreat, utterly regardless of the least approach to etiquette. "i will see you again before you go away, helen?" "yes, my dear madge," cried the other putting her arms around marguerite in a sweet caressing manner, "and i shall have one more chat that will last until i see your dear old face again." marguerite verne stood in the outer doorway waving adieu and throwing tokens of affection to the two young girls until they had crossed queen square and were lost to view. on returning to her room a formidable array of letters lay awaiting their owner. a glance at the address of each was sufficient. marguerite rapidly seized a large square and heavy one from among the number and very soon devoured its contents. it came from "cousin jennie montgomery," a genuine and true hearted girl whom marguerite loved as a sister. mrs. montgomery was a sister of mrs. verne but never was nature known to indulge in so many freaks as when she bestowed such relationship. "gladswood," the comfortable and happy home of the montgomerys, was indeed no misnomer; for in this beautiful and sylvan retreat every heart was truly made glad and every guest only felt sad when the summons of duty suggested departure. marguerite verne never had too many society demands upon her to neglect correspondence with cousin jennie, and she was more than delighted on this morning to hear such glowing accounts of "gladswood" and its inmates. on the situation of this charming country seat we might exhaust pages and never weary of the effort. it stood on a rising knoll surrounded by the picturesque scenery of sussex vale. here was that enchanting beauty of nature in which the most aesthetic soul might revel. in the months of summer the verdure was "a thing of beauty." luxuriant meadows showered with golden buttercups, alternating with patches of highly-scented red and white clover, while the air seemed freighted with the balsamic odor of the crowning foliage. but the foliage of "gladswood"! we have no powers capable of description. the majestic maples, stately willows and graceful elms were grouped with an effect that baffled the mind of man. and the interfacings of soft feathery furze, moss and ferns. surely this spot must have been in the mystic ages one grand amphitheatre for the sylvan deities. and the stately manor-house, for such it much resembles with its quaint wings and irregular outbuildings. its old-fashioned windows, tall chimneys, projecting eaves and arched doorway have an inviting appearance and impresses one with the fact that there are still some substantial homes--some reminder of the past. and now we come to the mistress of "gladswood." while she is carefully pruning some choice specimens of ferns growing on the shady side of the doorway, we take advantage of the situation, and hence the result: mrs. montgomery is a matronly-looking woman, of about forty-five years of age, perhaps less; for the abundant mass of dark chestnut hair reveals not one silvery thread. one glance is sufficient. never was character more cleverly delineated than upon this woman's face. there, in bold relief, is the deep penetrative mind--one that has power to read the masses as they pass before her mental vision. her's is the heart that opens wide to the one crushed and broken by the uncharitable sect called "the world." her's is the hand ready to help the suffering and support the tottering. the shoddyisms of modern every-day life have no charms for mrs. montgomery. woe be to the victim who comes under her censure. she has no mercy upon those who are under a daily strain to cater to the usages of society. let us see good, honest and noble-minded men and women, and then will follow all those accomplishments that are really necessary. jennie montgomery had early imbibed those principles, and in her we see a striking illustration of this truth. but in our praise of the mistress we must not forget to introduce the master. mr. montgomery is not the sort of man one would naturally associate with his energetic and self-reliant helpmate. there is a lack of shrewdness and an utter want of that keen discriminating power, which can give at first glance the full numerical value of all exterior objects. the owner of "gladswood" belonged to that "come-easy-go-easy" class, who, unless circumstances come to their relief, are ever being duped or made a prey to the avaricious. but mr. montgomery had a source of never-failing strength in his wife. "had william montgomery married a different kind of wife he would have become a poor man," had grown into a proverb regarding matters at "gladswood." all business transactions and pecuniary affairs always received the approval of mrs. montgomery before they took effect; while each and every individual about the farm well understood the business-like capacity of their respected mistress. but it must not be supposed that mrs. montgomery was the ruling spirit of "gladswood." she displayed no strong-minded nor dictatorial manner; no arrogant gestures or inclinations to combativeness; but seemed as one endowed with the happy faculty of presenting herself at the right time and right place, and by her motherly counsel to superintend the working of her household in a perfect and unconscious manner. there are several younger members of this family, but as they are not necessary throughout the work we will not make mention of them here. on the morning when marguerite verne sat in the luxurious crimson velvet arm-chair reading cousin jennie's letter, the latter was engaged in fashioning some dainty scraps of wool and silk into various little knick-knacks for a bazaar. the pupils in attendance at the common school were anxious to procure some extra apparatus for the hall, and having received much assistance from the young ladies of the district, entered into the work with a will. jennie montgomery was a host in herself. a bright, amiable girl of eighteen, with robust constitution, sunny disposition, and step elastic as a fairy. she was, indeed, an ornament to her home and also to the community. jennie was not a beauty--had not the least pretentions to one. her dark complexion was pure and health-like; but it was not heightened by that peachy bloom peculiar to brunette's, instead only a warm, bright and ruddy hue, which some might consider as approaching the rustic. her eyes, as they sparkle with delight at the pretty array of bright colors, might not be admired as of the poetic or ideal type, but in their depths lurks a keen and significant expression of the peculiarly intelligent and earnest appeal that seldom speaks in vain. the neat and cosy parlor, with its many articles of female handiwork, speak for the taste and talent displayed by this interesting girl. the pretty sketches of familiar haunts near her loved home showed that genius had stamped the brow of jennie montgomery, and inspired her with a deep enthusiasm for the beautiful and sublime. presently she rises from the work table, and opening a door leading to the balcony, stands for some moments gazing in mute admiration upon the lovely view of sussex vale, wrapped in its mantle of purest white, reflected in the sunshine as a vast expanse of frosted silver. chapter vi. a lawyer's reverie--a verdant client. a dismal dreary day. the fog had crept slowly over the city and enveloped every object within its reach. there was fog clinging to turrets, spires and towers, fog in the streets, fog in the alleys, fog in the ditches--all was fog. it hurried along utterly regardless of the delicate fabrics that were ruthlessly despoiled by its touch, musing now and then, doubtlessly, on the ingratitude of the fair daughters of st. john who, in the possession of their clear and brilliant complexions forgot to give thanks to the great enhancer. in the midst of this fog many pedestrians are wandering to and fro, crowding the streets, hurrying along the wharves, hailing vehicles, accosting their friends, and in fact as perfectly happy in their surroundings as though the cheerful, sunshine were illuminating all visible space. passing along prince william street as far as chubb's corner we see a familiar form--it is phillip lawson. he is enveloped in a gray mackintosh and his soft felt hat is worn with an air of careless ease that is more becoming than otherwise. "chubb's corner" had lost its charm for the young lawyer. he did not stop to consult stocks, exchanges, debentures or any such business, but merely nodding to an acquaintance or so crossed the street and wended his steps to the lawyers' nests--nests from the fact that in this, locality they hatched all the schemes by which to victimize their unwary clients. but of our friend. he gained his apartments, and throwing aside the outer garment, sat down at his desk and drawing his hand across his forehead, began to think. "i want to see nobody for the next hour," murmured the young man, his brows contracting as he spoke. a deep shade settled upon the usually mild countenance. a question of momentous importance was to be decided. "to be or not to be" was the final answer. each solution involved a corresponding number of conflicting doubts and anxieties, and left scarcely any choice in the mind of the reasoner. "no doubt it's a good field for a beginner in life. st. john has more lawyers than would start a colony. some of us must go to the wall, and i don't fancy being one of that number." this was the sunny side of phillip's reflection. he was trying to cheat himself into the belief that "green fields and pastures new" were panacea for all other grievances, and that that was the goal of his ambition. "yes, it's a good 'spec'; but why is the fellow so anxious for me to get it? still i would like to hear more of the matter before i question the motives." the young lawyer was aware of the fact that hubert tracy had been using his influence for another a short time previous, and he could not see his motives for such change of opinion. true, a sudden intimacy had sprung up between them, but the subject had been hitherto mentioned and acted upon; therefore the last reason formed no groundwork for his convictions. occasionally a dark thought crossed phillip lawson's mind. can the fellow be honest? i cannot bear to think ill of a fellow-man, and i must not now. i know that tracy is not what he might be, yet he has a kind heart and what's the use of my talking, who is faultless? "let him that is without sin cast the first stone." it was here that the beauty of phillip lawson's character showed itself. the young man was a christian. he had always cherished the principles of true piety, and as he repeated over the words of him who was the friend of sinners, it was in tones of sublime tenderness. instantly a second thought flashed across his mind--he had an acquaintance--a member of a legal firm in that newly-founded city in the northwest. he, therefore, made up his mind to write at an early date and make all the necessary inquiries. having settled his mind upon this point another subject presented itself to our friend, and from the sudden flash of his grey eyes one would imagine that it was of an electrifying nature. it is one, which, from the remote ages, has had power to magnetize, humanize and civilize; it is the power which makes man what he should be--love--that short word of four letters--what a world of thought it embraces--it held the heart of phillip lawson at will, and despite his power of self-control he was often the victim of its vagaries. but the lawyer had not long time to indulge in such thoughts. a knock aroused him. "come-in." a stalwart looking youth of muscular build (with suit of grey homespun not cut exactly in the proportions of that of a dude) stood upon the threshold with a look upon his florid face that betrayed some embarrassment. "you be mr. lawson the lawyer, sir." "yes, sir," said the young practitioner, a smile lighting up his face and making him an interlocutor not to be dreaded by the most unsophisticated client. "'spose i needn't ask, be you pretty well posted in law?" queried the individual on taking his seat, at the same time pulling out an enormous expanse of red and yellow cotton, called by way of courtesy a handkerchief, which he vigorously switched across his face as though a swarm of mosquitoes were on the aggressive, and kept the field unflinchingly. "what is the cause of complaint, sir?" ventured the interested lawyer, scarcely able to repress a smile. "well, sir, to come to the pint at once, as you fellers allus happin to say, since i was knee-hight of a grasshopper i had a hankerin' after the law, and allus envied tother fellers when they'd to go to the 'squire's on trials, and i tell you they thought themselves some punkins when they got a day's wages for goin'"-- "of your question at issue," interrupted our legal friend, "i mean on what point do you wish to consult me, sir?" "well, sir, as i told you before, i'm comin' straight to the pint," replied the youth, giving the aforesaid bandana a more vigorous switch in the direction of his interrogator, then continued, "and, firstly (as them lecturin' fellers say) i allus thought i'd like mighty well to have a trial myself, and bring some un up to the scratch; and i've jest got my wish, and if it costs all dad's worth i'll make 'em sweat! "are you a minor, sir?" demanded the lawyer. "no, sir; i'm no relative to them _miners_, nor don't want to be, tho' sally ann is allus taggin' arter me, and would like terrible well to hitch on to me; but i tell you, 'squire, i'm not so green as they think, though i'm mighty fond of buckwheat." this last speech was too much tax on the risibility of the "'squire," as familiarly dubbed by the would-be client, and after some merriment, explained the tenor of his question, assuring the youth that it bore no allusion to "sally ann." after the young lawyer had taxed his ingenuity to draw the verdant client "to the point" he learned that the cause of complaint was directed against one joshua jones, who had given himself an invitation to haul off some cedar poles claimed to be the property of the said mose spriggins, and the said mose wished indemnification right speedily. "tell you what 'squire i'll put him fur as the law will carry it, and if you can slap on plenty of cost 'squire, it'll do me more good than eaten my supper." "i shall do the best i can for you sir," said the young man, carefully noting the points which mose brought to bear on the matter. "well now 'squire, suppose you want your wages for this 'eer job. what's your price?" mose now produced a complicated piece of mechanism from his expansive waistcoat pocket. it might have been constructed for a three-fold purpose--for money, pipes and tobacco. the odoriferous exhalation giving strong evidence of the latter commodity. "well 'squire, you fellers earn your livin' mighty easy," exclaimed mose, tendering the five dollar bill into the lawyer's hand. the latter smiled, pocketed the fee and commenced writing the letter to the defendant joshua jones. "now sir, if this thing works well, i don't grudge ye the money 'squire, and any time i have somethin' more in the law business i'll throw it your way, for i think you a squarer sort of a chap than them ere gang further up the street. i tell you they're sharpers, they fleeced dad last summer and i wasn't agoin' to be so green, eh 'squire?" "well mr. spriggins, i shall always try to work to your satisfaction any time you are in need of advice," returned our friend, rising from the desk and going toward the window. mr. spriggins thought he would soon be ready for "startin'" and also rose up, in the meantime depositing the before-mentioned wallet in his waistcoat pocket. silence reigned in the lawyer's office for three minutes, when the door was reopened and mose spriggins' rubicund face once more adorned the apartment. "say, 'squire, aint there a new kind of insurance consarn 'round these diggins? i'm thinkin' of gittin' my life insured--not 'cause there's any kinsumption in our fam'ly, only there's no tellin' when a feller might peg out. tell you, 'squire, i'm sound as a bell." mr. spriggins turned himself around for inspection, and shrugged his broad shoulders with an air of evident self-esteem. a lengthy speech might have followed, but our legal friend averted the catastrophe by informing his client that the dominion safety fund office was close at hand, and with quiet mien escorted the said mr. spriggins to the door. a genial "come in" answered the summons of the applicant, and in another chapter we will be able to inform the reader how the veritable mr. spriggins was sent home rejoicing from the fact that he had become insured in the safety fund. phillip lawson was re-established at his desk, and not wishing to allow his thoughts to wander to the subject which had hitherto occupied them, took up a novel that lay upon the opposite shelf. it was one of george eliot's masterpieces--daniel deronda. its depth of thought and richness in the sublime and beautiful theories as regards the jewish dispensation had a charm for the talented scholar, and he read for more than an hour, deeply buried in the inspired words of the gifted author--one who will occupy a deep niche in the inmost recesses of all hearts, so long as the literature bearing her impress shall make its way in all tongues and through every clime! presently a light, well-known step greets the reader's ears, and a trim little maiden, with waterproof, heavy boots, and umbrella in the foreground, presents herself upon terms of much familiarity. "and my dear old phillip, how happy you look in here! why, its fearfully disagreeable out to-day, and you look as contented as if the room was heated only by the sunshine, while i am really shivering with the dampness and fog." "well, little woman, what brought you out to-day?" exclaimed the indulgent brother, stroking the fair hair of his pet sister as she stood beside him, looking into his face with a look of pure devotion--a look which showed that her brother was her world, and in his face shone all that was good and true in her eyes. lottie lawson was a child of a sweet and tender nature. she had been watched over by a model mother, and this earnest mother's prayers had not fallen unanswered. "god grant that the woman be a living realization of the child," was the fervent prayer that dwelt upon phillip lawson's lips, as he drew the child towards him and tenderly kissed the fair forehead. "you wonder why i am out to-day, brother phillip; i came on a message from kitty." the latter was the house-maid, and the young man smiled as he thought of the force of character which constituted this efficient maid of all works. "oh, i see now, there is some excuse for you. what are miss kitty's demands to-day?" "she is having a new dress made and wished me to select some samples for trimmings, and as she wants to wear the dress home next sunday, i had to go to-day." "yes, that is all right; kitty's wishes must be attended to," said phillip, with an air of much gravity. "will you soon be ready to go with me phillip. i shall wait for you. it is just such a day as needs your dear old self to drive the gloom from the back parlor." the little maiden had not long to wait for an answer, as the young lawyer took down his mackintosh, and in a very short time the pair were to be seen walking at a quick pace along charlotte street, through king square and out beyond the limits of the old church-yard. a neat and cosy cottage is reached, and a tidy looking domestic answers the summons and smiles graciously as the coveted samples are placed in her hand while she receives a full explanation of the prices and the additional advice of miss lottie thrown in as extras. the cottage has an air of neatness throughout. its windows filled with choice plants and gorgeous foliage lend a charm that impresses one with the taste of the inmates. the spotless purity of the muslin curtains and the transparency of the windows bespeak the thorough cleanliness and comfort of this home-like little nest. and the inviting parlor: it's furniture was neither elegant nor costly. the plain mahogany chairs and straight-backed old-fashioned sofa were well preserved. not a particle of dust could be seen without the aid of a microscope. and the beautifully polished andirons which had done service in the family for many years, and seemed to assume an air of importance over the less attractive articles grouped around. a pretty little work-table with writing-desk combined stood at the left side of the hearth. it was a gift from phillip lawson to sister lottie. it was the child's favorite seat, and that fact repaid the brother more than the most extravagant praise. the upright piano was not neglected. piles of music lay near, and the well-worn rug beneath showed that music had its charms for the members of this household. reader, we will not weary you with minute details, but merely say, such was the home of phillip lawson. in this abode he could look back to a country home, with which, as the haughty evelyn verne said, "you could associate hayseed." but did that fact lesson the reputation of this gifted scholar? nay; the sons of the soil are in reality the "lords of creation." they have the first and highest calling, and ere the proud beauty had passed through all the ordeals of life, she hastily repented of the bitter and sarcastic words. chapter vii. adversity. as our legal friend occupies a prominent part in our story we will endeavor to give such explanation as will enable the reader to form a true estimate of his character. phillip lawson was indeed the son of a farmer--a man who had, by honest industry and untiring perseverance, made a comfortable home for his family in one of the frontier settlements of carleton county--that truly agricultural locality where nature has done so much to assist the sons of toil--that county where the crops are almost spontaneous, and where none need be ill off, unless through misfortune or mismanagement. "the lawson farm" was the abode of comfort and happiness. thrift greeted the eye on every side--from the well-filled barns to the unbroken range of fences, through which a sheep could not crawl, nor even could the most "highlariously" inclined ayrshire be tempted to try the pass. the neat farmhouse, with its bright coat of paint, was the attraction of the district, and was just such a place as would be besieged by all the lecturers, agents, and travellers that happened to strike oil in this direction. nor were they ever disappointed. mrs. lawson was truly wife, mother and friend. none passed her door without the hospitality they craved. "it is a wonder to me how the lawson's stand it," was often the comments of the less hospitable neighbors, as they watched with no uncommon curiosity the daily arrival of some unexpected guest. "the more we give the more we'll have," was the wise mother's reply as she sometimes heard complaints from the female portion of the household as regards the extra work. it had always been the highest ambition of john lawson that his family should grow up industrious men and women and that they should each receive all the benefits of education that lay within his power. in his eldest son he saw much ability and also a mind logical and argumentative, and he had fully resolved that the boy should be educated and trained for the legal profession. and the farmer "plodded his weary way homeward" each day buoyed up with the thought that he was doing his duty towards his family and above all towards his god. "but man proposes and god disposes." ere the young student had finished his collegiate course the fond parent was called to his long home, and within a year the heart-broken mother was re-united in that world where sorrow never comes; where she awaits a further re-union, when she shall once more gather to her bosom the loved forms whom she watches over in anxious solicitude from the portals of her blessed abode. it was from this time that the noble minded youth was aroused to a sense of his duty. he must not give up the course of action which had been laid out for him. what was to be done? sickness and death had told heavily upon the pecuniary resources of the family. much of the produce had to go to pay the wages of labourers, and only by dint of much anxiety and careful management could the farm be made to cover expenses. something further must be done. julia lawson had reached her sixteenth year, and possessing more than ordinary ability, resolved to prepare for the vocation of teaching; and within a year from the time she had formed such resolution, was actually engaged as teacher of the school in their immediate district. this fact gave phillip lawson much relief of mind, as the young teacher could still have a care over the household, and give advice to the two younger children under her charge. the young student having received his degree at the n. b. university next turned his thoughts towards the law. while spending a few weeks at home to assist in the farm-work, he received a letter from an old friend of his father. nothing could exceed the joy of this young man as he read and re-read the kind-hearted proposal from one of st. john's most able and popular lawyers, praying that the son of his old friend engage to enter as a student in his office. "the lord will provide," was the earnest comment of the reader, as he folded the missive and laid it away between the leaves of his wallet. but means were necessary as well. phillip had, much against his inclination, to raise money by a mortgage upon the farm. he had often heard it said that a property once mortgaged was never redeemed, and the thought gave much concern. but the old maxim, "where there's a will, there's a way," was ever rising uppermost in his mind, and he was doubly resolved to make the trial. a few weeks later the student is at his desk, poring over the dry documents and legal lore. on his brow is determination and disregard of difficulties. phillip lawson soon became a general favorite. his generous nature and frank manners won the esteem of his fellow students, and also that of the senior members of the firm. "lawson will make a mark some day--he has it in him," was the first remark passed upon the student as the eagle-eyed solicitor glanced at the son of his friend, whose thoughts were intent upon the copy of blackstone before him. things went on prosperously at the homestead; and as the student had succeeded in increasing his means by giving evening lessons to a class of young men, he felt comforted and assured that in the end all would come out right. but a heavy blow had suddenly fallen upon the lawson family--typhoid fever came into the household and prostrated the noble-minded julia upon a bed of suffering. uncomplainingly she had watched her pet sister through all the stages of this dread disease, until the child had been pronounced out of danger. it was then that outraged nature asserted itself and the worn-out system was not equal to the strain--she succumbed to the raging and delirious fever an object of deep and tender pity. "god help me," cried phillip lawson, in despairing tones as he read the letter conveying the news in as mild a form as possible. "if julia lives i shall never be separated from her again," were the reproachful thoughts that forced themselves upon the affectionate brother. need we speak of the agonizing hours spent in the dread suspense that followed. in the midnight watches as the hours dragged slowly by, the young student was silently learning to "suffer and be strong." and it was well that these lessons took deep root in good soil, for within a few weeks phillip lawson knelt beside the dying bed of his beloved sister, and in heart-broken accents commending her departing spirit to the loving saviour. ah, such a scene is too sacred for intrusion; but it is only by such means that we can realize the true value of our esteemed friend. and as the last sod had been placed upon julia lawson's grave, and the flowers that she loved strewn over it by loving hands, we cannot move from the spot. it is scenes like those that teach us what we are, so long as there is the least impress of the divine in our nature will we look to those scenes as mile-stones on our journey through life. kneeling beside the sacred spot the grief-stricken brother was utterly unconscious of our presence. with tearless eyes he gazed upon the mound that held the remains of her he loved so fondly. who will not say that in that dark hour there hovered near a band of angelic beings, and foremost in that band the angel mother whose breath fanned the pale brow of the mourner and quieted the soul within? ah, yes; it is not heresy to think thus. phillip lawson surely felt such influence as he arose and in tones of quiet resignation murmured, "father thy will be done." then picking up a half blown rose that had fallen upon the ground, pressed it to his lips exclaiming, "fitting emblem of the pure and innocent young life cut off ere it had blossomed into womanhood." and the hollow sounds that greeted the mourner as he wandered listlessly from room to room apparently looking for some object, some vague uncertainty, something indefinable. what solemn stillness reigns around where death has been! the painful oppression, the muffled tread, the echoes that haunt as tidings from the spirit world, borne on invisible wings, confronting us at every step. to the most matter-of-fact mind these things are indeed a solemn reality. death has power to change our every-day thoughts to others ennobling, beautifying and divine! but we do not sink under the weight of affliction. god has seen otherwise for us. he heals the wounds and bids us go on amid life's cares administering to those around us with increased diligence, happy in the thought of doing what is required of us. throughout the inexhaustible stores of poetry and song is there anything more exquisitely touching than the lofty and inspired dirge wailed out in tremulous tones--in memoriam--and the healthful words, "ring out the grief that saps the mind for those that here we see no more; ring out the feud of rich and poor, ring in redress to all mankind." but to return to the lawson homestead. very soon all was bustle and preparation. the young student had rented the farm and by selling off the stock had raised means to secure a home for the children in the city, and ere a few weeks had passed around we find them comfortably situated in a convenient tenement in the suburbs of st. john. but a stouter heart than our young friend might well have groaned under the weight of difficulties that pressed upon him. what with the management of his household, the hours of office work, and the hours devoted to his classes, and hours of anxiety and care, the young student was oftentimes depressed and wore a look beyond his years; but he never once swerved from his duty, and trudged manfully onward his eyes ever bent upon "the strait and narrow path." lottie the pretty child, full of life and hope with her sweet winning ways imparted warmth and sunshine to the snug home; and the merry high-spirited tom, a blue-eyed youth of fourteen, gave life and freshness to the surroundings. it was indeed a pretty sight that greeted a visitor as he entered the plain but neatly-furnished parlor, in this quiet home. it is the hour between tea-time and that prescribed for evening work. it is the only hour of leisure during the day, and it is generally devoted to the boy and girl at his side, the latter sometimes sitting upon his knee looking into the face that in these moments wore a smile that oftentimes belied the conflicting and agitated thoughts within. such was the history of phillip lawson previous to the opening of our story. a period of six years had elapsed since he commenced life in the city and now we find him an honoured barrister, with sufficient practice to meet the expenses of the pretty residence to which he had removed some months ago and to which we referred in the previous chapter. we now see the reason which prompted evelyn verne in associating the young lawyer with "hayseed'" it is only shallow sordid natures as hers can indulge in such meanness, but thank heaven the venom has only a momentary sting, a resting place in proportion to the superficial source whence it springs. in respect to other members of the verne family it must be said that phillip lawson had received much kindness and hospitality within the walls of their princely residence, and if the spoiled beauty indulged in spiteful taunts it was because she saw in the young man that ability and soundness of principle which placed her set of worldings at painful disadvantage. montague arnold with his waxed moustache, adonis-like form and studied hauteur, minus the brains, amiability and that true politeness which constitutes the real gentleman cut a sorry figure when contrasted with phillip lawson. mrs. verne was in every sense a votaress to the world's caprice, yet she was not devoid of insight. she could see the noble traits of character in phillip lawson; but she must bow to the mandates of fashionable folly. mr. verne, deeply absorbed in stocks and exchanges, seldom took respite in the gaieties of the drawing-room; but in his business hours he saw enough of young lawson to convince him of his character. a slight circumstance happened one evening which had a tenfold effect upon marguerite verne; but the girl kept her own counsel, and cherished the thought as a happy talisman through all the months and years that followed ere events brought about the consummation of her fondest hopes. mr. verne was seated in the library. brilliant rays of light were reflected from the highly-burnished chandelier. "madge, my girl, come read awhile," exclaimed the former, as he espied his favorite across the hall with a delicate bouquet of hot-house plants in her hand. "i will be with you in a minute, papa, dear," was the response, in a sweet, childlike voice, as the speaker ran up the broad staircase with elfin grace and gaiety. "so the flowers were not for me, you naughty girl. well, well, times have changed since when, in the eyes of the august peers of our motherland, it was considered 'an atrocious crime' to be a young man." "oh, papa, you see i do know a little history--enough to accuse that 'young man' of being guilty of sarcasm in the highest degree." "well done, my madge! here, take the paper--read me the rest of that speech of young lawson's. it is a clever defence, and goes to prove my words--that he is a young man of sound judgment, and every day gives proof of greater force." it was well for marguerite verne that the newspaper hid the blushes that, despite her efforts at self-control, played hide-and-seek upon the soft, fair cheeks. "i am waiting, madge." the sweet, silvery tones were the only response, and though the maiden knew it not, there was a tender chord of sympathy that united father and child more firmly, and bent their thoughts in the same happy direction. chapter viii. hubert tracy's dilemma. as phillip lawson sat silently poring over a formidable looking volume, bound in heavy parchment, he was accosted by a familiar voice. "working as usual, lawson?" "yes, sir; i generally find something to keep me out of mischief," said the barrister, smiling, in the meantime clearing the proffered seat of a pile of documents that had been cast aside as useless. "what's the news?" demanded hubert tracy in his indifferent and careless style. there was a restless, wearied look upon the face of phillip lawson, as he glanced towards his interrogator. "to tell you the truth tracy i've heard nothing startling to-day. i might for your amusement give you some of my own afflictions. in the first place i have a headache that i would gladly part with." "for heaven's sake don't wish it upon me," cried the visitor, thinking no doubt of the unsteady hand and nervous headache of the previous morning. but this was not the kind of news that hubert tracy sought. he wished to draw out some well-timed allusion to the northwest and he had not the courage to do so. he had been a frequent guest at the verne mansion of late, but the fact did not add to his felicity. marguerite verne could not play the coquette. she was attentive to her callers but nothing more. montague arnold, who was on the eve of declaration to the imperious evelyn, had now gleaned much of the affairs of the family. he learned that mr. verne had a high regard for the rising young barrister and he knew well that there was strong sympathy between father and daughter. "that little dame has plenty of grit to fight the battle, but if i can manage it she will have to give up, if not she is a match for the old fellow." the above remark of montague arnold gave his companion some assurance yet it did not satisfy him. "i tell you what mont, the only chance for me is to get the fellow out of the way, then you can influence the old lady and if she puts her foot down we are all right." hubert tracy was far from being in a settled state of mind. he had a continual dread of his suspected rival, while a strange fascination possessed him--a something which attracted him to the latter with a force in proportion equal to the dread. it was this state of mind that forced his steps to the barrister's office at this time, and as he turned the burning subject over and over he felt more confused. "it is madness to give up--it will kill me;" were the thoughts that rose half framed to his lips and then forced themselves back with renewed energy. but of the forgoing conversation which we interrupted. "don't be alarmed my friend," cried phillip "i can get rid of it sooner than you, and judging from your looks this morning one would imagine you too had been battling with some of the 'ills that human flesh is heir to.'" hubert tracy winced under this remark but the fact was lost upon the other who innocently exclaimed, "any trouble in the shipping business just now." the young man laughed. "thank heaven i'm right on that score and don't even expect much trouble unless the world would get turned upside down." "which is an unlikelihood," said phillip adroitly. and much as we speak of the uncertainties of this world, the latter remark might be accepted as a truism in regard to the pecuniary affairs of hubert tracy. he was the heir of a rich uncle--a modern croesus--a man who had amassed a princely fortune by his wonderful success as a manufacturer and speculator. it was this circumstance which gave the nephew such value in the eyes of good society. hubert tracy was fully aware how matters stood. he knew that money was the only screen to cover up all the shortcomings and glaring deformities of our nature. he well knew that he could haunt the abode of dissipation and vice and fill up the intervals with the gaieties of the fashionable drawing-rooms. he well knew that a young man of pure morals with strong determination to rise to the highest manhood would have no chance with the heir of peter tracy. and the young man was right. he was sought after and courted by fashionable mothers who saw only in this beau ideal of a son-in-law--fine houses, fine carriages and in short everything that wealth could give. the worldly mrs. verne was not without her day dreams on this subject. she never let an opportunity slip when she could show mr. tracy that patronage which his prospects demanded. but this woman of the world did nothing rashly. she was always acting from motive and though apparently unconcerned was keenly alive to the situation of the hour. such was the tenor of phillip lawson's thoughts as he chatted to hubert tracy for more than half an hour, when the latter departed less satisfied than when he entered. then the former set to work upon some important business, and being a rapid penman, soon finished the job. finding time for a short brown study, or more properly speaking a soliloquy. "if i go out there and be dissatisfied it will be worse than ever, and there is lottie, i cannot think of taking her with me. the poor child would break her heart if i left her behind, and our cosy home would be broken up--perhaps forever." home had always been the oasis in the dreary waste of phillip lawson's late eventful life. after the monotonous round of office-work he always anticipated with delight the hour and circumstances so truthfully depicted by the poet. "now stir the fire and close the shutters fast, let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, and, while the bubbling and loud hissing urn throws up a steaming column and the cups that cheer, but not inebriate, wait on each, so let us welcome peaceful evening in." therefore the thought gave much pain. "but life is made up of such struggles," murmured phillip, "and it is our duty to be happy wherever we are--in winnipeg as well as st. john." the last words were repeated in a tone of determination and the speaker arose hastily, took down his overcoat and shortly afterwards was to be seen walking along the north side of king street with a rapid but regular step. having gained charlotte street the young lawyer is greeted in an artless and unaffected manner by marguerite. the graceful and sylph-like form had sufficient power to cast all the high minded resolutions to the four winds of the earth. in the maiden's presence phillip lawson was bound body and soul, yet he would not allow himself to think so. "i am quite fortunate in meeting you, mr. lawson, as i am saved the trouble of sending a note." marguerite emphasized the word trouble in a manner altogether peculiar to herself and a manner which infected the banister with a certain degree of gaiety that was unusual to him. and no wonder that our friend felt the influence of the maiden's smiles. marguerite verne was indeed a pretty picture to study. her rich costume of seal brown, plush with ruchings of feathers, the coquettish hat to match with the jaunty ostrich plume were becoming in the extreme and gave an air of richness and refined elegance. "is it any harm to inquire as to your wishes miss marguerite?" said phillip, glancing inquisitively into her face. "i don't think i shall tell you to-day." there was a look of arch mischief accompanying the words--a spirit of banter that was truly fascinating. phillip had escorted his companion as far as coburg street, where the latter was to call upon some of her friends. "mr. lawson, i am not quite so dreadful as you think. come this evening and i shall gratify your curiosity at once, and you know papa always likes to see you." "i shall go," exclaimed the barrister to himself, as he had turned down paddock street on his way homewards. "her papa will receive me; why did she not say evelyn?" marguerite was sensitive on the subject of mr. lawson's reception, and she had a modest intuition of her friend's feelings, and, as is too often the case in trying to smooth matters, only made a greater blunder. "why did i not let well alone," exclaimed the girl, as she stood on the broad stone steps leading to the elegant home. it was six o'clock and the first bell gave the warning that there was barely time to dress for dinner. "he will be here without fail, for i know his word is inviolable," cried the girl, as she hastily re-arranged some lace on the sleeves of her pretty dinner dress--a combination of silk and velvet in shade of ash of roses. "dear me, there is the bell, and my hair not presentable." but marguerite was mistaken. "why, madge, where have you been?" "i have been out making calls," said she, with an air of surprise. "well, my dear, i advise you to go every day if you can bring back such roses." marguerite blushed as deeply as if the compliment came from an admirer--aye, more so; for the girl well knew that those from her fond parent were from the heart. "there now, don't spoil them, _ma belle_," cried mr. verne, his eye resting with fond admiration upon his daughter. children are oftentimes _de trop_, and charlie verne proved no exception. "papa, i was one day with madge, and she had two big red spots on her cheeks as big peonies." the precocious youth was on the eve of explanation, when mrs. verne's--"children should be seen and not heard" put an end to the subject. it were well for marguerite that her elder sister did not grace the festive board that evening. evelyn's keen and penetrative eye would have taken in the situation at a glance. the light in the soft, deep, violet eyes would tell the tale that the maiden would strive to conceal; and the bright flush, heightened by fond anticipation, would have accomplished its deadly work. but marguerite was granted further respite. she gave phillip lawson a quiet reception, and much to the relief of the latter, they were allowed to chat at their ease the greater part of the evening, uninterrupted by a guest. mr. verne, having returned from one of those board of trade meetings, on hearing that mr. lawson was in the drawing-room, immediately made his appearance, and from his warm greeting, one might see that the young lawyer stood high in his favor, and that his prospects were indeed fair as any suitor might wish for. chapter ix. mr. spriggins gets insured--the dominion safety fund. as mr. spriggins is a gentleman of no mean pretensions and occupying a prominent place among our characters we will again introduce him as he is seated in the office of the dominion safety fund. the general agent greets mr. spriggins in his usual gentlemanly and unassuming manner--a fact which is not lost upon the applicant. "well, mr. agent, spose you'll think it a mighty queer business to see a feller comin' here without a bein' asked, so to make a long story short, i might as well till you all about it." with this remark the speaker pulled his chair closer to the desk and with an assumed business air began-- "you see, mr. agent, i'm not a married feller but have a terrible good mind to hitch on one of these days and that's the reason i'm here to-day." "a poor place this to come to look for a wife," remarked an elderly gentleman in a gruff voice, who had just entered on business as the last words had been repeated. a happy smile illuminated mr. spriggins' face as he rose to retaliate. "oh, indeed sir, i'm posted on such affairs. when i want a pard'ner i know mighty well where to go--none of yer peeaner players for me--give me the girl that can make butter and boil a pot of tatters without havin' em all rags and mush." mr. spriggins became more and more eloquent upon the necessary qualifications of the future mrs. spriggins, and then once more addressed the gentleman behind the desk. "well, now, mr. agent, suppose you don't mind me a askin' a few questions on this eer bisness." "not at all sir, that is our pleasure mr. ----" "spriggins sir. i'm moses spriggins of mill crossin', but they allus call me mose to hum for short." mr. spriggins would have added further explanatory remarks but was interrupted by the official: "now mr. spriggins, i wish to hear from you--" "what do you say the name of this consarn is mr. agent?" "the dominion safety fund life association." "well now, that's a terrible long name. hanged if that doesn't beat uncle amaziar wiggleses family, for their oldest gal's name is samanthy eunice esmereldy jerushy." at this speech mr. spriggins burst into a fit of laughter, affording sufficient proof to the company that there was little need of the necessary medical examination to testify that the applicant was of sound health. "why do you call it the dominion fund?" queried the applicant looking intently at the title. "because it is the only one of its kind in the dominion sir!" "all right, mr. agent. safety fund--that's a queer name. would you mind explainin' that. you musn't think hard of me sir if i want to know all about this business, for you know people have been so taken in by so many humbuggin' consarns that it makes a feller keerful." within a very short time mr. spriggins was led to see the beauty of the safety fund. how that the longer he was insured the more favorable his position; how persistent members of the class received the benefit, etc. "that's just the thing i've been lookin' for," exclaimed the applicant, his face aglow with enthusiasm. a few more preliminaries were discussed to the entire satisfaction of mr. moses spriggins, and arrangements were made that he should present himself before the medical examiner on the following morning at ten o'clock. "nothin' could suit better, sir, for one of our naber's girls is a'stayin' in town now, and there's enough attraction there, sir, to keep me here for to-night." mr. spriggins cast a knowing glance at the official as much as to say "you understand me." on his way up princess street the veritable mose might be heard soliloquizing at a wholesale rate--"well, now, its mighty cheap, too, and a feller is gettin' sich profit; better that than raisin' tatters and lettin' the bugs eat 'em--on a thousand, too. by george, it's next to nothin'; let me see: four times $ . -- times are . and carry ; times are and are ; times are and are -- , that is $ . , and $ . --$ . --and next year less--then lesser, and then i'll be a makin' right straight along-- won't melindy jane be astonished." a dashing turnout for the nonce arrested mr. spriggins' attention, and as he gazed at the richly caprisoned steeds, and fair occupants, exultingly exclaimed, "yes, ye think yer a mighty fine crowd, but there's not one i'd swop for melindy jane." and mr. spriggins had not changed his opinion when, at the appointed hour, next morning, his good-natured face wreathed in smiles, made its appearance before the official, hailing all with delight, and full of conversation of the most animated style. the entrance of the medical examiner now claimed attention, and when the said mr. spriggins had passed the fiery ordeal his delight knew no bounds. "what did i tell you--sound as a bell--no kinsumption among the sprigginses." this and corresponding remarks fell from the lips of moses as the papers were being filled. silence was the order for a few moments when our friend rising quickly to his feet exclaimed: "but, hold on, here's sumthin' i've not seen afore. is it part of the agreement?" mr. spriggins then drew attention to the motto-- _"non mihi sed meis vivo."_ the medical gentleman very quietly allayed mr. spriggins' fears by convincing him that it was the motto--the principle which governed the working of the institution, and also, gave the literal meaning in our mother tongue. "the very words i told melindy jane last night. well, if it don't seem, like magic. if it don't suit my case to a tee--not for myself but others--well, there is just one mistake in it. i would say not for myself--but mine." mr. spriggins directed his remarks to the follower of aeculapius with an air of importance, and then began a vigorous onslaught on the pronunciation of the foreign words. "and that's latin. well, i never had such liken' for latin afore. if i wasn't too old would try to learn it yet--by jimminey, doesn't it say nice things though?" the forms being filled in and payments being made mr. spriggins reluctantly arose to depart, but another glance at the motto and he broke forth afresh. "it's just the thing that old parson simes was speakin' of last sunday--gracious me--who'd a thought there was so much religion in the insurance business. well, sir, i feel like a different man already; and now folks, if you see any more fellers from the crossin' you'll know who sent 'em that's a sure case. i tell you what the crossin's not the worst place to come to, and if any of yous would happen to come our way don't forget to give us a call." thus ended mr. spriggins' speech and as he made his exit through the doorway at a two-forty gait a smile was visible upon the occupants of the office. but ere business had been suspended for the day mr. spriggins again appeared on the scene with the following exclamation: "i could'nt go back to the crossin' without seeing you and tellin' what i heard. of course i wouldn't like it to go outside as it is a kinder secret but thought it too good to keep, eh mr. agent." mr. spriggins threw himself into an arm-chair and then in lively tones continued: "you know them ere verneses that live in the big house on that high bank near the square--well that's where melindy jane is hired, so of course when i left here i went up there and as i was a showin' the paper to melindy jane and explainin' it who should walk in but one of the young ladies.--(now between you and me and the wall i believe it was a put up job of melindy's to show me off and have the young missis' idees of me.)" at this point mr. spriggins became very confidential and lowered his voice almost to a whisper, then, no doubt bethinking himself of the importance of the subject added: "howandever its no matter here nor there, so as i was a sayin', the young missis came right over and i had to say sumthin', so i ups and tells her where i had bin and you never seed anyone more delighted. she seemed to know all about it and told me it was the best insurance consarn in the dominion." at this remark the agent smiled and said that he was pleased to know that young ladies were interested in the institution. "well, sir," continued he, "but that was not the hull of the conversation. i was a'telling her about that ere young lawyer, the young feller that gave the advice for josh jones (i declare it makes me bile over while i think on it), and she listened quite attentif and took great consarn in it, and said she was sure i would get justice, as mr. lawson was an honest lawyer, (and between you and me, mr. agent, that's more'n can be said of most of 'em)." "you are rather severe on the legal profession, sir," ventured a voice from the other side of the room. mr. spriggins having confided his affairs, and seeing that business absorbed the attention of his audience, finally took leave, with the parting injunction to give him a call if they happened his way. it did, indeed, seem a strange coincidence that while mr. moses spriggins drew miss marguerite's verne's attention to his legal proceedings that phillip lawson should be turning over certain facts in his memory in order to elucidate some important problems as regards his relation to this fair being. could he then have seen the respectful manner with which marguerite greeted the son of toil, he would feel more deeply impressed with the beauty of her character, and could he have heard her modest eulogium upon himself, an emotional chord would have vibrated to the musical tones of her soft and well-modulated voice. but our young friend was not to be thus gratified. it is contrary to the laws which govern the order of the universe that an eternal fitness should adapt itself to our circumstances. ah, no, my young dreamer, much as we would wish it otherwise, we must sit patiently and see you suffer much mental agony in trying to discipline your mind for the trying ordeal through which you must irrevocably pass. nor did the sweet-faced marguerite, as she chatted in her quiet happy way, for one moment dream that the brawny and muscular hand of moses spriggins should be yet held in friendly grasp, and that she would ever cherish this sturdy son of toil in grateful memory. standing there on that uneventful morn with the rays of sunshine playing hide and seek through her silken hair, could she have looked beyond the surrounding of the present, and cast her eye along the dim and shadowy perspective, what sorrow might have been averted; what heart-throes might have been quieted! but let us not be carried away by such thoughts. let us not seek to penetrate beyond the airy nothings of every-day life. marguerite verne went back into the presence of the other members of the family. she chatted, laughed and sang blithe as a bird carolling its earliest matin. marguerite's pure and transparent soul finds shelter in the daily acts of goodness emanating from her loving heart, and if she feels a momentary pang she struggles bravely and lives on. she could ill repress her feelings when the peerless evelyn, radiant in convenient smiles and blushes, went to be congratulated on her engagement to montague arnold. "you never did seem like a sister to me madge, and you act less like one now. i did not come to tell you that i was going to die." evelyn's manner was anything but amiable. she could brook no opposition to her will, and she was piqued to the highest degree that marguerite did not break forth with the wildest terms of extravagant congratulation. but it matters not. marguerite is not a hypocrite. she pities from the bottom of her heart the woman who will wed an unprincipled man like montague arnold. how her tender pitying nature went out to the first-born of the family but the girl knew well the stubborn haughty spirit and looked calmly on without reproach. mrs. verne had accomplished much in her own eyes. her daughter was to revel in the comforts and elegancies of life. and when once the grand event had taken place she would have further opportunity to turn her attention to marguerite. "i must get rid of evelyn first," was her comment as she bent over a piece of embroidery designed for a mantle drapery--bunches of delicate ferns and golden rod on garnet plush, and intended for the home of the future mrs. montague arnold. but there was one who took a different view of the matter. mr. verne looked on in grave disquietude. it may be sacrilegious but we cannot refrain from intruding upon his inmost thoughts and with heartfelt sympathy grieve for the indulgent parent who sees his fair first-born sacrificed to the world and mammon. the man of far-seeing penetration knows too well the great mistake and with painful intensity contrasts the sweet girlish wife of his youth with the fashionable woman of the world who presides supreme over his household--he sighs deeply and plunges deeper into the ponderous folios before him. presently a smile illuminates the grave face. a graceful form is at his side, and as the maiden holds up a pretty bouquet arranged by her own fair hands, the fond father draws her towards him and tenderly kisses the white, smooth forehead earnestly hoping that his favorite child may have a happier prospect before her--that she may be happy with one she loves. "a guardian angel o'er his life presiding doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing." chapter x. helen rushton at the "celestial." a few weeks had rolled by and helen rushton once more entered "sunnybank." marguerite receives her visitor with open arms. "i am so glad to see you, madge," exclaimed the quaint little maiden, as she threw aside the pretty wrap, worn carelessly around her shoulders. "i ought to be angry with you, you naughty girl," returned marguerite, playfully, shaking the former by way of punishment. "oh, please don't say a word, like a good old dear. i did intend to write, but you just know how we spend the time running around, and i had so many demands upon me." "well, this time, i shall 'take the will for the deed,' but remember the second offence will be dealt with according to law." madge emphasized this threat with a hearty embrace and turned her eyes in the direction of the door. "well, if that is not too good to keep," shouted josie jordan, rushing in pell-mell, and seizing the pair with a lustiness peculiar only to a maiden of athletic pretensions. "oh, you nuisance," exclaimed helen. "how did you know i was here?" "if that is not ignoring our hostess i should like to know what is. indeed, miss helen, i came intent on weighty business matters, but madge's allusion to the law drove it out of my head." josie shrugged her shoulders and gave way to fits of laughter, then exclaimed, "but you know, helen, why madge should be interested in legal matters." "josie jordan, i believe you are the greatest pest i ever met, just to come in when i was going to entertain madge with my visit." helen rushton had adroitly commenced an attack upon the former to conceal her friend's embarrassment. she saw that marguerite liked not the badinage of the thoughtless josie, and she was determined at her own expense to turn the conversation. "just as if i am not as much interested in hearing celestial gossip as our worthy hostess," exclaimed josie, making one of her most stately bows and assuming a very mock-serious air. "we can both listen, you saucy puss," said marguerite, drawing a pair of pretty ottomans close to the sofa on which helen sat. "indeed i am not going to listen--i can't wait--i am going to ask questions, and then we will hear more in the prescribed time--as the teachers say. "as you wish," said helen, patting the mass of golden curls that were as antagonistic to all order as the fair head they adorned. "did you go often to the house, helen? now for my questions. "yes, i went when there was anything worth going to hear." "and i suppose that was not often." "hard on the m.p.p.'s, josie," said marguerite, smiling. "not half hard enough!" said the girl, vehemently. "they go there and sit and have a good time at the expense of the province, and show off a little with a passage-at-arms now and then that suggests more of a gladiatorial arena than that of a body of august law-givers!" "oh, mercy! hear the girl!" cried marguerite, raising her hands in tender appeal. "i tell you it's the truth; i will ask helen if it is not so," cried the speaker turning to the latter for answer. "i must confess that to a certain extent josie is not far astray. i have seen exhibitions of cross-firing not strictly in accordance with one's ideas of a gentleman. but i suppose sometimes they forget themselves." "a gentlemen never forgets himself, helen. although you have high-toned notions of the capital, and granting that you have been lionized right and left, it does not excuse you from exercising a sense of right and wrong." marguerite could not but admire the brave girl with such an earnest look upon her face. the laughing, romping hoyden was capable of sound sensible argument, her character was made up of opposites; and helen rushton, clever in many things, was almost baffled. marguerite soon poured oil on the troubled waters. "you told me where you were going to stay helen but i have forgotten," ventured the latter. "i did not happen to find my friends in the belgravian district, but what matters it?" returned helen. "up town or down town, that is the burning question always uppermost in fredericton," cried josie. "it was that part i believe they call the west end, but unlike london and other cities it is not a locality habitable by the fashionable or good form of the pretty little city. but the residence of my friends is, notwithstanding this drawback, the home of culture and refinement, nay more--it is the home of generosity, for never did i see more genuine true-heartedness than in this truly happy home." "you doubtless have found many such people during your visit, for the hospitality of fredericton is proverbial," exclaimed marguerite in a soft and gentle manner. "i did indeed," exclaimed helen, "the people are very much conservative, but that gives them all the more favor in my eyes." "ah, you precious daughter of the old school," cried the vehement josie, "it were well that you went to the celestial ere you started for halifax, in order that you might, to a certain extent, have re-acquired that amount of red tapeism which you must have almost forgotten amid the more liberally-inclined citizens of our fog-begirt city." "quite an orator, josie," ventured marguerite. "i will not interrupt you again, helen, only to assist your memory by questions. were there many young ladies in the family?" "there was just one of the loveliest and sweetest girls in existence," cried helen, enthusiastically. "be careful now, we are jealous already," said josie, holding up her forefinger, menacingly. "and two young gentlemen, lately enrolled as professionals." "at which?" cried josie, in mock gravity. "where's your promise now?" ventured marguerite. "never mind, madge, i can manage," replied helen, smiling. the latter then gave an interesting description of her visit from general to particular. she had listened to the speeches from the government and opposition; admired the pretty surroundings of the parliament buildings; glanced over several of the volumes in the neatly-kept library, and in the meantime formed opinions upon many of the representatives of our province. government house also received much notice. "i've never been there yet," cried josie, in a half-regretful tone. "then you have something in store worth going to fredericton for," said helen, "it is such a grand old place. the conservatory is charming--a spot where you can dream that you are in the land of perpetual summer and golden sunshine. standing upon the threshold of the blue drawing-room you are almost spell-bound. really my eyes were dazzled with the array of lovely pink and white azaleas that were arranged at respective distances. and the camelias--really, i had to hold my breath--then came the endless group of calla lilies-- pure, transparent and beautiful." "oh, helen, i should have been tempted to pluck a stray one and say, 'old conscience, it is public property.'" marguerite laughed at the amusing look depicted upon josie's face, but helen disconcerted went on. "but what made the scene more effective was the soft and velvety carpeting of luxuriant grass growing in the centre of the conservatory--nothing to be seen but lovely flowers, foliage and verdure." "suppose great care must be bestowed upon it," said marguerite. "truly, i could have lingered there for days and not been wearied." "and in the meantime live upon the effervescence of your beautiful thoughts," cried josie, bursting out into a wild ringing laugh. "you mentioned the blue drawing-room, helen," said marguerite, anxious to prolong the conversation; "is it not very pretty?" "pretty is indeed the term suitable for it, madge. there is no elegance, but it is sweet and inviting, pretty draperies, pretty bric-a-brac, and pretty effect. "did you notice anything different from other drawing-rooms, helen," queried madge. "yes, i did," replied helen. "the entire absence of so many silly knick-knacks oftentimes heaped up in ordinary drawing-rooms. how my eyes gloated over a few pieces of quaint and rare old china!" helen's keen, scrutinizing gaze had taken in the whole situation, doubtless without any apparent effort; good-breeding was the innate principle which actuated the speaker's every-day life; and it was now from a desire to speak in high terms of life in the capital, that she wished to entertain her companions. "i have heard louise speak so many times of the kindness she received there, that i seem to know all about it," said marguerite, her dark violet eyes aglow with earnestness. "and yet you never went with _her_?" queried helen. "something always happened to prevent my going then, yet i have some pleasant associations connected with fredericton." "pleasant anticipations you should say," chimed in the irrepressible josie. "miss jordan, please do not misconstrue madge's words, you saucy girl!" retorted helen, tapping her toes upon the stool near, by way of calling the other to order. a brilliant description of a ball at the government house then followed, also several parties and other indoor amusements. "that is all very nice helen," cried josie, "but i want to hear about the people. there is always so much talk about the celestials, their culture, refinement and all that sort of thing, now you can give us your opinion." "that is a delicate subject for helen to handle," said marguerite with a slight shade of embarrassment heightening her color and making more pathetic the soft speaking eyes. "indeed my peerless ones you are all good and lovely in my sight and the fair marian is among the number." "is she pretty, helen?" "not what the world would call pretty, but she is neat and graceful, has a pretty form and graceful carriage and carries her head like a queen." "what of her brothers--are they blonde or brunette?" "neither, but tall, straight and rather inclined to be fashionable young men." "then i cannot bear to hear of them; for anything in this world i despise is a dude," exclaimed josie with an expression of disgust upon her face that was in accord with her speech. "anything in moderation is tolerable," returned helen, "i cannot say that i admire the extremely fashionable young man but i must say that i cannot appreciate the young man of antediluvian aspect." the latter then settled down to a lengthy detail of her visit in particular, the different characters she met and the pleasant hours enjoyed in their company. "how different your visit has been to some who have gone there. why, i have heard the girls say all you could do was go up and down queen street for a few times, hear remarks passed upon you by the loungers at the hotel doors, and then stow yourself away to be scorched to powder in summer or be converted into a tolerable sized iceberg if it happened to be winter." "like all other places, josie, one's impressions are always formed according to circumstances and i must say i never will forget the happy hours in fredericton." "but you never told us of the 'head of the family,' helen?" "that thought was uppermost when you spoke, josie. i never can fully express my gratitude to the esteemed couple who so kindly invited me to their house. "marian's father is fat, fair, and slightly over forty, with the most happy and frank countenance that you ever met. he has a good story always on hand, can entertain clergy or laity, and never wearies in contributing his store of amusing anecdotes, which oftentimes are at the expense of his nearest relatives." "how i should like to listen to them; it does me so much good to laugh," cried josie, her eyes beaming with fond satisfaction. "kingsnook" (for such we will name this happy professional's abode) is of all others the place for a good hearty laugh. no simpering, silly affectation is allowed much reception within the neat and tastefully arranged parlors, or tempted to display itself on the shady verandah, cool, leafy shrubberies, or spacious garden. "did you see much military life there, helen?" asked marguerite, who had been for some moments apparently engaged in deep study. "that is the beauty of it, my dear. the study, the drawing-room, and in fact, every inch of 'kingsnook' reminded one of the true spirit of patriotism which ruled its master, who could look with pride back to the sturdy and high-spirited ancestors who wore the uniform of the british army. i am not the daughter nor grand-daughter of a british officer, but i could look with pride upon the arms and accoutrements adorning the study walls, and feel a wave of emotion break over me and fire my soul with a pride that can only be experienced by one of britannia's children." "hear, hear," cried josie jordan, springing to her feet, and seizing the speaker by the hand. "helen, i am with you heart and soul. remember, we new brunswickers are true loyalists. i am proud to belong to that good old stock which gives our province so much of its prestige." the bright romping girl had now changed into a whole-souled woman. there was a dignity in her bearing worthy the mother of the gracchi. but an unlooked-for event put an unceremonious end to the conversation and helen rushton took leave promising to tell them much of the friends she made during her late visit. the unlooked-for event was the arrival of cousin jennie montgomery. "i thought it best to surprise you, madge!" cried the bright sunny-faced maiden as she was folded in the arms of the outwitted marguerite. "i suppose it is best to forgive you," cried the latter and putting an arm around cousin jennie led her into the family parlor to receive greetings from the rest of the family. chapter xi. phillip lawson has gained an ally. it is needless to say that cousin jennie was a welcome visitor at "sunnybank." her bright presence shone everywhere from the drawing-room to that particular spot dedicated to the sports of the romping, noisy boys. "we will have the jolly times," was the password of the latter; "cousin jennie is the girl to help us fellers along." and there was the usual stir and bustle necessary for the equipment of evelyn verne's trousseau. the beauty had scarce time to think of anything but the different styles of dresses, pretty bonnets, delicate laces, and the most costly trifles, from the gorgeous fan to the delicate tiny slippers. "dearest eve, i should think you would be tired looking over such a lot of things," exclaimed cousin jennie in her cheery tone, "really my eyes would get sore in less than no time." "what a speech, cousin jennie. indeed, you are not so unsophisticated as you confess to be," said the dark-eyed fiancee, with a tinge of sarcasm accompanying the words. "well, fair cousin, much as i may lose caste by my confession, i cannot help it,--you know the country folks never see grand weddings, and i may say truthfully that i never expect to see so much finery again." "then you ought to make good use of your eyes now," was the rather ungracious reply. as evelyn stood amid the heap of boxes, arranging and rearranging the delicate fabrics to her heart's content, she was not an object of envy. she was flattering, herself that she was moving a grand marriage and she never let her thoughts wander beyond that well-defined boundary line. hers was a nature seemingly devoid of feeling and incapable of fine thought, and when she artfully feigned such in the presence of her lover, it was only from a desire to make him more completely her slave. jennie montgomery was not many days at "sunnybank" ere she saw a glimpse of the world from a fashionable society standpoint. "oh, madge, how can eve marry that man? you surely do not like him either?" jennie montgomery had favorable opportunity of passing judgment upon montague arnold the previous evening, and now she had directed her appeal to her favorite cousin. "i will be candid, jennie. you know i never could admire, much less respect, an unprincipled man--i mean a man who lives for his own sordid pleasure--and my sister will have cause to repent the rash step. poor evelyn; she has faults, but really she has many good traits of character if her pride would not stand in the way." sweet, confiding marguerite. she fain would shield her sister from censure, and hoped for her a brighter future than she durst picture. while at "sunnybank" jennie montgomery saw much to like and dislike. she met many kind-hearted women whose mission on earth was to do good. with the keen, discriminating acuteness peculiar to this maiden, she could sift the wheat from the chaff--she inherited this gift from her far-sighted mother, and was happy in such possession. but there was one who claimed due attention from cousin jennie. phillip lawson of late had made several calls at the verne mansion and had received a more than hearty welcome from mr. verne. the latter held young lawson in high respect and took no pains to conceal the fact--which was not lost upon the deliberating mrs. verne; but she was cautious, knowing well that moderation was the surest way to overcome opposition. within a short time the young barrister and cousin jennie became the best of friends. they chatted together without interruption and to the evident delight of mrs. verne seemed happy in each other's company. jennie was of a quick, decided turn of mind and had a dash of sentiment in her nature that might have been considered dangerous on this occasion; but her whole-souled sense of honor would have saved her from taking a step from the path of right. "it is the best thing that ever happened, mamma," exclaimed evelyn verne as she stood arrayed in an elegant velvet reception dress which she was admiring before the large plate-mirror in her dressing-room. "i will forgive jennie of all her rudeness and country ways if she will only rid us of this importunate suitor," said mrs. verne, giving the lengthy train a few more touches to add to its effect. "he seems very much in love with her at present," replied evelyn, "and indeed they are just suited for each other. it is to be hoped mr. lawson will find one more congenial to his rustic manner than madge." "of course, my dear, you don't think jennie very rustic in her ideas, but she has a certain odd way about her that is not the highest mark of good breeding." "common sense, as her wise-headed mother terms it," remarked evelyn, with a scornful curl upon the otherwise pretty lips. on the following evening mr. verne entered the small back parlor adjoining the library. mrs. verne was seated at a daintily-carved ebony work-table. a piece of silk lay upon her knee and many shades of crewel were spread out before her. "busy, my dear?" queried the husband, greeting his wife in a pleasant, quiet way. "really, stephen [note: hand-written, 'richard' inked out], have you found time to venture in here? surely there must have been a mistake somewhere," returned mrs. verne, in an affected and patronizing manner, that from a quick-tempered man would have forced a hasty and perhaps disagreeable speech. but mr. verne sat down and commenced asking such stray questions as came into his mind. "where have the girls gone to-night, matilda?" "jennie and marguerite, you mean?" queried mrs. verne, dexterously weaving the bright silks into a pretty many-hued flower. "it is the night of the concert, and they have accepted mr. lawson as escort." a slight frown accompanies the speech. "indeed," said mr. verne, with a knowing look upon his face, then turning abruptly towards his wife, added, "it seems to me that jennie has made an impression upon mr. lawson." "i hope so," was the only reply. mr. verne was bent upon forcing from his wife the true state of her feelings towards his young favorite. "jennie will be a lucky girl if she can win such a prize," said he, with considerable warmth of expression. "he is, indeed, a very suitable husband for jennie," replied mrs. verne in icy chilling tones. "he is a fit husband for any young lady in st. john, my dear. if he were to look with favor upon marguerite i should say she, sweet child that she is, would be honored by the proposal of marriage from such a man." this was too much for mrs. verne. it aroused her temper and gave opportunity for many harsh, bitter sayings. then she found relief in sarcasm. "i am pleased to know that mr. lawson occupies such a proud place in your esteem. no doubt you have been making a few encouraging suggestions to this second gladstone." then changing her tones to a higher key exclaimed, "remember, i will not oppose you in this step, but if will never sanction my child's encouragement of that upsetting, half-starved lawyer." "please bear in mind, matilda, that mr. lawson has never once spoken to me upon the subject and it is very foolish to suppose that he wishes to pay any attention to marguerite otherwise than any young gentleman might." "you need not think to hoodwink me, i can see for myself, and it seems too bad that when a mother expects her children to become well settled in life that she is sure to be disappointed." mrs. verne within a few moments entirely changed her course of action. she was almost moved to tears and her manner seemed to say, "well, i suppose it is all for the best, come what will i am prepared for it." but might we not quote the words of the psalmist, "the words of his mouth were sweeter than butter but war was in his heart." a clever thought had entered mrs. verne's mind. she is already armed for the occasion hoping that she will come off victor. "well, my dear, we will not quarrel over this matter. it seems so foolish, knowing it is only conceit on our part, for i believe that mr. lawson is very much interested in jennie montgomery." "jennie has grown to be a fine girl," remarked mr. verne, in a matter-of-fact way. but the fact did not change his opinion as regards the preference for marguerite. "it would perhaps be better that such would be the case," exclaimed the parent, as he was once more closeted in his private apartments looking ever the list of bills and documents awaiting his signature. in the meantime mrs. verne had found her way into the drawing-room, where she was soon after joined by evelyn and her distinguished betrothed. what a smile greeted the seemingly happy pair! in languid, drawling tones the beauty was relating her adventures of the previous afternoon--the calls made, and the making of a new acquaintance. "a gentleman from england, did you say, my dear? how delightful! i shall be most happy to meet him." "and so you shall, dear mamma, for he intends calling upon us very soon." mr. arnold seemed not to notice the radiant smile which illuminated the countenance of his betrothed. yet it gave him annoyance. he bit his upper lip and bent closer over the new song that lay open before the piano. "she will sing a different tune before long," was his comment. in truth montague arnold possessed not that feeling which can only be cherished by true, unselfish love. he openly admired evelyn verne for her beauty. his sole desire was to make her his, and bend her to his will. his nature was too superficial to harbor jealousy, but his stubborn vanity answered the purpose. ah, my peerless evelyn! you may blush and smile at the well-timed compliments of your admirers now, but your reign seems nearly at an end! "what a grand opportunity to give a party," exclaimed mrs. verne, glancing at her daughter for approval. "it would be just the thing, mamma," said evelyn, in her nonchalant and dreamy sort of air. "you are already settled my dear and now i must try to do my duty towards marguerite. really, dearest, you have no idea of the anxiety i have about that girl. she is so much like her father that i am at a loss how to act. you know that she secretly adores that good-for-nothing lawyer and if it were only on her part i would not care, but i am certain that he is head and ears in love with her. dear me! what a world of trouble we poor mothers have to endure. why do not our children see as we do?" poor mrs. verne! she seemed in much distress and assumed a woebegone appearance. dear mamma--i think you ought to feel less uneasiness just now for i verily believe that cousin jennie has designs upon our unfortunate visitor." "god grant that she may be successful," was the reply. "you must encourage it in every way, dear mamma," said evelyn, with more earnestness than usual. "yes; i was just thinking of a plan which doubtless by clever management, will succeed." "let me hear it, mamma," said evelyn, raising her jewelled fingers, cautiously. mrs. verne glanced in the direction of the smoking-room, (whither her future son-in-law had retired to enjoy the delightful weed,) and finding that there was no fear of interruption for the next ten minutes, cleverly sketched out her plan of action. we will not give the outline of this cleverly devised speech, but merely say that from this time cousin jennie was honored to her heart's content, and was induced to remain much longer than she intended. mr. lawson was a frequent visitor, and to the great delight of mrs. verne signified his intention of accepting the invitation of mrs. montgomery to spend part of his summer vacation at "gladswood." "that will certainly put an end to all your fears, mamma," said evelyn, standing before the bronze mantel shelf admiring a pretty and rare vase which had arrived from england as a wedding present from an old school mate. and so matters went quietly along. mr. verne kept his counsel and worked away amidst his folios, and when his pet daughter shed a ray of sunshine over the matter-of-fact apartment, he felt a tinge of sadness and fondly hoped that no darkening clouds should burst over this idolized treasure. "what a pity that such a being should ever know the meaning of the word sorrow. in one way, my darling, i can save you, in another i cannot." mr. verne was almost convinced that cousin jennie had supplanted marguerite, and he well knew the proud nature of the latter. "perhaps it is all for the best. my pearl could never outweigh all difficulties like the self-reliant jennie." such murmurs escaped the lips of the fond parent as he glanced up and down the long row of figures balancing his accounts with a rapidity only acquired by long experience and constant practice. but what of marguerite? the girl was not unhappy. she lived on cheered by her happy, dreamy nature, and as it was far above that allotted to ordinary mortals, it sustained her and kept her mind above all sordid thoughts. "time has laid his hand upon my heart, gently, not smiting it, but as a harper lays his open palm upon his harp to deaden its vibrations." chapter xii. evelyn's bridal morn--festivities at "sunnybank." . . . "to the nuptial bower i led her blushing like the moon, all heaven, and happy constellations on that hour shed their selectest influence, the earth gave sign of gratulation, and each hill, joyous the birds;" --_milton_ such is the glowing description of the appearance of nature on the morn when, in the presence of god and the host of white-robed angels, was celebrated the nuptials of our common ancestors-- nuptials whence sprang the ills of our humanity. could the fair and beautiful eve have foreseen the future that to her seemed so promising, would she not have given up to despair and remained aloof from sound of tempting voice? but god's decree willed it otherwise, and the fair eve, whose beauty and submissive charms had power to influence her lord and master, became the mother of mankind. it would be unjust, uncharitable, to intrude upon the feelings of the pair to participate in the present festive ceremony at "sunnybank." evelyn verne emerges from her boudoir "a thing of beauty." was ever bride more enchanting, radiant or beautiful? were ever bridal robes more graceful? perfect beauty, queenly beauty, dazzling beauty. it is needless to expatiate upon the shimmering train, mist-like veil or conventional orange blossoms. reader, we will allow your imagination full scope. let it rest upon the radiant bride until the eye becomes familiar with the minutest arrangement of the elegant costume. and then the bridesmaids! five lovely maidens--st. john's fairest daughters. five bewitching forms with grace in all their movements, claim our attention; and on all sides--"how pretty!" "how sweet!" "how beautiful!" two sisters are exquisitely dressed in india muslin and antique lace--one in pale-blue and the other in pink. marguerite verne is radiant in pearl-colored satin and ruchings of delicate pink azaleas. two younger girls are becomingly attired in cream lace and soft filmy crepe of the same shade. each maiden carries a bewitching basket of flowers, and imparts to the senses the most delightful effect. indeed, it is seldom that historic trinity ever witnessed a grander pageant within its sacred walls. as the handsome and distinguished-looking bridegroom stood before the altar awaiting the entrance of his bride, it were almost sacrilege to utter a word deprecatory or otherwise. hubert tracy supports his friend with an air of interest. he seems more impatient than the other, and has a look of ill-concealed uneasiness upon his slightly furrowed brow. he hears not the remarks of pretty maidens or dignified matrons, else the slight frown would have given place to a smile. "mr. tracy is as handsome as the groom, mamma." "handsomer, my dear." there was still a chance to ensnare the uncaged bird, and this fact was alone in the mind of the anxious mamma. but the entrance of the bridal party put an end to all talk concerning the sterner sex. "isn't she lovely?" "what a magnificent dress?" "she is so composed." "really, marguerite is as pretty as the bride." "oh, indeed; fine feathers make fine birds." "if our girls could have all the money they want and nothing to do i bet you they would look better than any one of them." "well, well. the world is ill divided." "isn't miss ---- gorgeous in that lovely lace." "if we had some of the money that has been spent upon them dresses we wouldn't have to work any this summer." such was a brief outline of the speeches made upon this important event, but they were lost upon the wedding party. the guests comprised the wealth and beauty of st. john and as each guest was ushered in one could not fail to exclaim: "st. john has wealth, beauty and refinement." the scene was an imposing one. while the choir sang, "the voice that breathed o'er eden," a young man entered and took his place among the guests. he had been detained but arrived in time to tender his congratulations to one more important to him than the radiant bride. why does hubert tracy instinctively cast a glance towards the new comer, and feel a slight shudder through his frame? it matters not at present. let him enjoy the benefit of his thoughts while we turn to our old friend. "mr. lawson is growing better looking every day," is our verdict, as with genial warmth we grasp him by the hand. an intelligent face can never remain long in obscurity, and when a generous soul and kind, true heart are also accompanying graces there is a beauty that is unfading. but it is only the higher side of humanity which can discover this beauty. and perhaps on this festive morn many of the worldly minded would fail to recognize this superior style of beauty. but proudly phillip lawson stands with the consciousness of having tried to act well his part and live in obedience to the dictates of his god. it was only when the guests had assembled in the spacious drawing- room at "sunnybank" that our friend found opportunity to have a short conversation with marguerite, who with sunlit face took no pains to conceal her delight. she chatted with phillip lawson with a familiarity that led the calculating mother to think that she had no further troubles from that source. and cousin jennie's presence heightened the effect of this illusion. clad in draperies of soft nun's veiling jennie montgomery was, if not pretty, quite interesting, and her bright, fresh face was refreshing as the air of her native vales. as in truth every wedding boasts of the time-honored conventionalities, toasts and speeches, that of "sunnybank" formed no exception, and we will not weary you with the endless list of compliments and amount-to-nothing-in-the-end talk which is current at such times. it was only when the hour for departure had arrived that a sense of loneliness crept over marguerite. the elegant presents had been inspected, luncheon served, and the bride, attired in a superb travelling costume, stood in the doorway awaiting the carriage. montague arnold wears all the necessary smiles that are expected of him, and as he takes his place beside his bride a new responsibility dawns upon him. a large number of the party accompany the newly-wedded pair to the fairville station, and marguerite is assigned to mr. lawson and cousin jennie. the latter is cheerful and witty and strives, under cover of her remarks, to divert her cousin from the sadness that is common to such occasions. phillip lawson sees with gratitude the girl's kindness and thanks her in a way that is tenfold more valued than the counterfeit everyday thanks passed around in common life. if the young barrister could have seen the true state of cousin jennie's feelings towards him he would have fallen on his knees and thanked god for such a friend. but phillip lawson was not a mind reader. he could not divine the thoughts that were passing through jennie montgomery's ready and active brain. but one thing he did know, that in this warm-hearted girl he had a true friend. when marguerite returned to her home a vague, undefined feeling took possession of her, and gladly would she have given herself up to this feeling, and indulged in a good, old-fashioned, time-honored cry. she felt a sudden pang of remorse. she thought of the lost opportunities when she might have had a stronger hold upon the sympathies of her elder sister. "poor eve," murmured the girl, "she was less to blame than i. we have never had each other's confidence. i hope she will try to love montague as a woman should love her husband. how i should like to ask mamma what she thinks; but what is the use. she will say it is one of the best matches of the season, and no doubt she will end by advising me as to her anxiety--on my behalf. oh, dear! why cannot we live in a state of blissful oblivion?" the miniature bronzed clock on the mantel-shelf caused marguerite to look up. "four o'clock--dear me; i wish this afternoon was over. the house seems as if a funeral had left it. poor evelyn." "you naughty madge, where are you?" the speaker was jennie montgomery. she had been busy over the arrangement of a number of bouquets for the dinner-table, and assisting mrs. verne in many ways, and now made a hasty transit towards madge's favorite retreat--a pretty boudoir adjoining her mamma's dressing-room. "just as auntie said, you old offender. a pretty time for day-dreams when everybody is head over ears in business." "i have not been here an hour, jennie," said madge, in an apologetic manner, putting her arms caressingly around her cousin's waist. the latter, though apparently preoccupied, could not fail to admire this quaint and pretty nook--just such a spot as one could sit in and dream their life away; a sort of lotus bed, where one inhaled the beguiling odors, and cast all worldly cares to the shores left behind. and little wonder cousin jennie gazed in admiration. the walls were of the most delicate rose color, tinged with gold; the carpet, a ground of white velvet pile bestrewed with delicate roses; the furniture of delicate pink satin, with setting of quaintly carved ebony. but the "seat of state," as jennie termed it, was the crowning feature in this pretty retreat. this seat of state was a raised dais, curtained with costly lace and surmounted by a canopy of pretty workmanship. in this alcove was an antique chair or fauteuil, and beside it a small cabinet, inlaid with mother of pearl, while opposite stood an ebony writing desk, strewed with fragments of exquisitely perfumed note paper. it was evident that marguerite had been penning down some stray thoughts, for the pen stood in the inkstand, and traces of ink were to be seen on her fingers. this seat of state was just such a place as our sweet-faced marguerite looked to advantage, not as a queen upon her throne, but as a type of the _spirituelles_--of the pure-minded maiden with a slight shade of melancholy, giving interest to the soft, fair face. "you remind me of a madonna, my saint-like cousin," said jennie, placing her bright red cheek against the purely transparent and more delicate one of her companion. "what a contrast, madge. just look at your country cousin--a blooming peony, and you, my most delicate blush rose. ha! ha! ha!" cousin jennie's laugh was one of the genuine ring--untrammelled by affectation or repressed by pain or languor. she gave vent to her feelings and exercised such influence upon cousin madge who now joined in with a clear silvery peal of laughter, sweeter than the most bewitching music. nor was this "sweetness lost upon a desert air." mr. verne had been engaged in his apartments for some minutes. he had entered unobserved in company with a friend and a few minutes later a gentleman bearing some legal looking documents entered and without ceremony was ushered in. it was while the latter was taking leave that the well-known tones of marguerite verne's voice rang out its silvery sweetness and caused the listener to start. but it matters not who the latter was--suffice, a man "of soul sincere, in action faithful, and in honour clear; who broke no promise, served no private end, who gained no title, and who lost no friend." "come with me madge and see what i have done. indeed, i am not going to put my light under a bushel. everyone must see my good works," exclaimed jennie, drawing her arm through that of her cousin and leading her out to the supper room where a sight worth seeing presented itself. the tables were arranged with an eye to the beautiful. everything that art and taste could suggest was there. epergnes costly and rare almost overpowered the senses with the exhalations of their gorgeous exotics. it was a difficult matter to determine from what source came the most assistance, the caterer or the decorater, but all harmonized and all made up one perfect adaptation. "jennie i am ashamed of myself," cried marguerite, standing before an exquisite combination of roses, heliotrope, lilies and smilax which occupied a central place on the supper-table, "you can do anything. how i envy you." "beware my little coz, i have read a little line somewhere throughout the course of my extensive reading-- 'praise undeserved is scandal in disguise.' now be governed accordingly and escape the fearful condemnation." marguerite smiled at the bright cheery girl and wondered if it were possible that such a life might ever feel the weight of care. she was thinking might it be possible that the girl would give her heart to the whole-souled friend who always seemed brighter in her presence. is it possible that jealousy finds a lurking place within so fair a soul--that it may take root and grow and bloom and scatter the noxious weeds peculiar to its growth? ah no, pure minded marguerite. we accord thee a higher mission upon earth. thy nature is too exalted, too ethereal, too much of the divine. "i verily believe if i were not here to arouse you, madge, that you would be off in another dream in less than no time. i believe some day in the not very far future if one happened to stray as far as boston that on looking over the _herald_ the first notice that will greet us is:-- "madame marguerite decoeur--clarivoyant. predicts past, present and future. much attention given to maidens seeking a husband. for particulars see circular. advice sent on receipt of postage stamps. no. ---- court street, boston, mass." "what's all the fun about, i'd like to know?" chimed in none other than master fred. verne with an eager curiosity common to his youth. "some time you may feel interested my young man, then you may consult your big sister," was the reply of cousin jennie. four hours later marguerite verne was, as cousin jeanie said a perfect picture--a being born to be admired and loved. never had she appeared more bewitching and as the clear-headed jennie watched the effect produced upon a pair of thoughtful grey eyes she felt a sudden relief, murmuring "he will love but one 'my marguerite.'" chapter xiii. marguerite at "gladswood." reader, another glimpse of life at "gladswood," and in this inviting retreat imagine marguerite. great indeed, was the delight of jennie montgomery, when, on a shining, bright may morn, she set forth from "sunnybank," accompanied by her favorite cousin. "take good care of my madge, jennie. you see she is of two-fold value now. i cannot afford to lose my second daughter for a very long time." mr. verne had arrived at the railway station in time to see the girls off, and his parting injunction to jennie was playful, and partook more of the nature of a brother than that of a parent. in the companionship of sympathetic natures he was warmhearted, affectionate and familiar, but in ordinary moods thoughtful and reserved, and at times gloomy. "jennie, do you think it possible for any girl to love her father as much as i do mine," asked marguerite, as she leaned forward and waved adieu, then throwing a kiss sat down beside her companion. "what a question," cried jennie. "i hope you don't imagine i care one straw less for my dear old man than you do for yours, my sweet, saucy coz. you really must be punished." cousin jennie gave her companion a hearty shake and the subject dropped. friends and acquaintances coming in at torryburn claimed their attention and when they arrived at rothesay a greater reinforcement came--a party of pic-nickers going to hampton to feast upon the beauties of that pretty rural town, and divide the remainder of the day between the delicacies of the luncheon baskets and the more delicious bits of gossip common to such gatherings. "miss verne, i really did not expect to see you to-day!" cried a sprightly miss, springing towards her at no gentle rate. the girl was lottie lawson, her bright young face beaming with excitement and happiness. "i have been at rothesay for a week, and just think, miss verne, phillip has not found time to come and see me." lottie's manner expressed that of a deeply-wronged maiden, and marguerite broke forth in a ripple of silvery laughter. cousin jennie also joined, and the infection spread to the aggrieved sister, whose child-like, musical tones were refreshing to all. "how i should like to go as far as sussex! but my visit ends to-morrow, and phillip will expect me," said lottie, in a half regretful tone. "but you can come with mr. lawson during his vacation. he has promised me to come to 'gladswood' then." "how funny that everything seems to come contrary! i have promised to go to woodstock." having reached the hampton station marguerite glanced out of the window. it was fortunate that cousin jennie was at that moment deeply engaged in conversation with a lady in the next seat. a blush mantled a maiden's cheek, then left her a shade paler than before. "brother phillip--" in another instant the child was in her brother's arms. "you bad brother, you did not come to see me, i was just telling miss verne." the young barrister then espied the latter and holding his sister by the hand walked to the front of the platform. "i must soon steal her away for a few days, mr. lawson. if business did not interfere, i should feel like making a second raid and secure another citizen." cousin jennie spoke in a way that one seldom hears. her artless, heartfelt manner, was acceptable to our friend, and with true gentlemanly grace, he bowed acknowledgment. one of the picnic party--a vinegar-faced woman of forty-five, with two eligibles at her side--declared to a very intimate friend that she thought it very queer that miss verne should be following at mr. lawson's heels all the time. "for the life of me i can't see why girls will make themselves so ridiculous. why, i often see her cutting across the square to overtake him." "oh, indeed; the girls now-a-days don't have much modesty. just see how she is laughing and talking now," exclaimed the confederate. "yes," retorted the first speaker "and that country-looking cousin is just a cloak for them. she is watching a chance to catch some others of the firm." "nice looking, did you say? not a bit of it. for my part, i think she is homely; her face is too round and red." the last remark was made by a saucy-looking maiden of sixteen, who owned to nothing being good that did not belong to herself. marguerite was utterly unconscious of the comments made upon herself and companion. in the minutes that mr. lawson remained they found much to say, and there was an absence of coquetry that was gracious to see. the thoughtful, yet bright, expression of marguerite's eyes had power to magnetize the most callous-hearted, and on this morn they were truly dangerous. the graceful form, attired in pretty travelling costume, could not fail to attract notice, and we see her repeatedly acknowledge the recognitions of many of the sterner sex with her quaint rare smile. just as the train was starting a voice exclaimed, "miss verne here are some violets, i brought them purposely to match your eyes." the fairy-like child placed the treasures in marguerite's hand and bounded away without further comment. "she is a good child," said phillip, waving adieu to his companion and hurrying towards the carriage awaiting him. cousin jennie now came forward demanding a share of the violets. "mr. lawson thinks so much of her that i almost love him!" cried she vehemently. "and she is so cute, i'm sure her brother cannot pay such pretty compliments, madge!" marguerite smiled and glanced far away over the distant hills, crowned with trees and foliage already flaunting themselves in holiday attire. at that moment phillip lawson was thinking over a host of compliments, which if repeated would have caused marguerite verne's _spirituelle_ face to glow with maiden blushes. but let us believe-- "one truth is dear, whatever is, is right," and leave each to the free range of thought indulged in at the self-same moment. the lovely views of nature on this lonely morn soon claimed marguerite's attention. "if the world were all so fair! oh, how charming!" exclaimed the latter rising from her seat and drinking deep of the glowing beauty of hill and dale, beautifully undulating expanse of green carpeted fields lying in the distance, the purple mountain tops glowing with regal splendour and above all the ethereal dome of heavenly blue with fleecy clouds in fantastic shapes and trooping along in gay and festive march across the boundless field. as the spire of apohaqui church gleamed in the distance jennie caught her companion by the arm exclaiming, "madge, i cannot realize that we are going to have your dear old self for three long weeks. i hope papa will be at the station to meet us." "if not what matter; i love to take good long walks." "and so do i, my pretty coz; just wait until i trot you out over the hills and far away," said jennie, giving her companion a pinch on the ear that caused it to assume a crimson dye. sussex vale, in all its loveliness now came within sight. "my own, my native land," cried jennie, in high glee, as she eagerly looked for the guard of honor that would be awaiting the arrival. "i thought so. look madge." the latter saw a group of merry children, a respectable-looking man, whose good-natured face could belong to none other than uncle william montgomery. "wasn't it lucky that you came on a saturday, cousin marguerite; it is just lovely in the fields now." the bright-eyed urchin had claimed a seat beside the delighted maiden with all the airs of a gallant, and jealously guarded all access from the other unfortunates. "hal is not going to ride beside cousin marguerite to-morrow, for i will get in first," whispered a younger lad to his confidante-- jennie. "yes, jimmie, you shall have fair play. count on me as your champion," whispered the former in conciliatory tones. it is needless to speak of the beauty of sussex vale. did ever passenger travel along the intercolonial "with soul so dead" as not to be stirred with a sense of the beautiful as he neared this delightful spot. on this golden may morn marguerite was indeed intoxicated with delight. but she could not remain in silent admiration, for master hal's attentions demanded recognition, and after chatting gaily for half an hour the phaeton deposited its smiling load upon the terrace at "gladswood." truly "gladswood," for upon every side arose some sight to make glad the heart. there stood the warm-hearted and energetic mistress, her genuine soul stamped upon every lineament of the plain but inviting face. "and you did make out to come, marguerite!" exclaimed mrs. montgomery giving the girl a warm, hearty kiss. "yes, we've got her now and the city folks can do without her until we are ready." at this ambiguous declaration the gallant hal gave his head a defiant toss and gathering up an array of sundry feminine indispensibles made towards a side entrance where he deposited the said articles. "cousin marguerite come out and see the calves." we have two of the loveliest little creatures with large eyes and such pretty white spots! and you would think they had their foreheads banged!" "well, they must be very pretty, jimmie," said marguerite, laughing heartily at the lad's description. "now children do let cousin marguerite have time to draw her breath before you tease her to death about your stock," said aunt hester with an amused look upon her face. "cousin marguerite will excuse herself to the company," cried jennie, motioning marguerite to follow her and the latter was soon snugly ensconced in the cosiest and most inviting chamber that one ever beheld. it was not the spare room but a smaller one adjoining that of cousin jennie. the walls, contrary to fashion, were covered with a delicate paper, a white ground sprigged with pale lavender, the paints were pure white and the hangings and draperies were transparent in their whiteness. the neat furniture was also of a dazzling white relieved by stripes of gold and pale lavender. the old fashioned window was formed in a kind of recess which was filled with pots of the choicest flowers, while just within reach stood a large lilac bush which on the least provocation forced its branches into the room. "cousin jennie, the grandeur of st. john cannot boast of a spot like this. can it be reality." cried marguerite, pushing aside the lilac branches and glancing out upon the enchanting landscape, which gave such effect to the pretty room. "it is so cool," broke from the girl in rapturous tones as she eyed the bare floor with its coat of soft tinted lavender and deeper shaded border. "you know it would be such a disgraceful thing to have an uncarpeted floor in the city." the last remark was in tones slightly ironical, and showed that marguerite verne held views not in accordance with good form and fearlessly regarded the consequence. "of course, mother would not have a carpeted chamber in the summer season, and now, i really like it, but i fear that some of our guests are very often surprised." it being past the noon dinner-hour a luncheon was prepared and the girls were interrupted by the indefatigable hal knocking lustily on the chamber door. "really, jennie, i would rather sit here than eat," said marguerite, going to the mirror to re-arrange the mass of silken hair that crowned her prettily shaped head. "i am going to take cousin marguerite down to luncheon," cried a voice from without. this set both girls in a fit of laughter. "you can't say that you did not raise a beau while in the vale," cried jennie, with a roguish twinkle of her eye. "indeed, cousin marguerite will hare no city chaps skulkin' 'round while i am here," cried our twelve-year old with all the airs of a dude of twenty. next in turn came a tramp around the proud old domain of "gladswood." the stately elms seemed to extend a kindly welcome. all nature seemed to say "welcome, to gladswood." the birds seemed to have been practising some of their latest melodies, for never did grander strains issue from their sylvan orchestra. how pleasantly the hours glided by in this charming abode. truly it hath been said-- "how noiseless falls the foot of time that only treads on flowers." "it is a fortnight to-day since i came to gladswood," said marguerite, one bright, sunny afternoon, as she came up the broad avenue, crowned with lovely wild flowers and such trophies as the neighboring wood afforded. cousin jennie had remained at home to assist in some extra duties, and as she greeted the "spirit of the woods," as she playfully dubbed marguerite, she was worthy of notice. a neatly fitting light colored print wrapper, spotless in its purity; a linen collar, fastened by a silver horse shoe pin; a long, plain, white muslin apron; a neat and substantial shoe, tied with black ribbon, and high over all a crowning mass of purplish black hair, in beautiful and striking contrast. "you radiant country maid," cried marguerite, "stand until i admire you awhile." jennie was playfully turned around as an automaton in a shop window, and at length breaking forth into a merry laugh, exclaimed, "you saucy minx, please turn your wit upon some other object." and thus amid fun, frolic and gaiety, marguerite's visit came to an end, and on the last eve to be spent at gladswood, the girls are seated in the old summer house enjoying an uninterrupted chat--that blissful recreation peculiar to each and every maiden. "madge, i am almost sorry that you came," said jennie, taking the pretty white hand within her own. "promise me that you will come while mr. lawson is here," cried the girl in a vehement and almost determined manner, while the large, brown eyes had a far-off look that she tried hard to conceal. "it is impossible, jennie; besides, you must not mention the matter again." marguerite's voice was clear and bird-like, but jennie montgomery fancied she felt a slight tremor in the last words uttered, and with that intuitive caution characteristic of her mother pressed the subject no further, and the warm-hearted maiden felt keenly her utter helplessness to render her companion any sympathy. "let us go in, cousin jennie," said marguerite, in tender tones that seemed as reproach to the high-minded girl, but she heeded not, and playfully putting her arm around her companion's waist, led her into the parlor, where the rest of the family were seated around awaiting their appearance. "marguerite is too proud," murmured jennie, as she sought her own room on returning from seeing her fair cousin aboard the down accommodation train which was to carry her homewards. "oh, my loving marguerite, i know more than you think. i could indeed tell you much that you little dream of, but why is it thus?" and humming an old-fashioned air jennie mechanically went back to her household duties, as if all the world were sunshine and brightness, and not a troubled thought had ever found a resting-place within her mind. chapter xiv. at the northwest. the scene is changed; and we find ourselves transported beyond a doubt to the far-famed city of winnipeg--that emporium of wealth, enterprise and industry which arose from its prairie surroundings as by the magic of the enchanter's wand. it is a bright, cheerful day in leafy june, and as one jogs leisurely adown main street, there are to be seen many happy smiling faces. but we are bent upon important business, and yield not to the more leisurely inclined side of our nature. a large four-story building is our destination. its door posts, windows and available space are decorated with the inevitable shingle that sooner or later ushers the professional into the notice of his victims. and this building was not alone in such style of decoration. "dear me, i believe every other man in this place is a lawyer! sakes alive--it's worse than being among a nest of hornets." such was the exclamation of an elderly lady who had recently arrived, and was out taking a survey of the town. and the old lady was not far astray, as winnipeg has proportionately more of the legal fraternity than any other city of the dominion. but to our subject. having arrived at the end of a spacious corridor we stop directly opposite a door bearing a placard--the letters are of gilt upon a black ground: n. h. sharpley, attorney-at-law, notary public, etc. a medium-sized man is seated at the desk busily engaged over a lengthy looking document which he has just received from the young copyist at the further end of the office. "all right, ned, you are at liberty for the next hour. wait: you can in the meantime run up for the ink," said mr. sharpley, attorney-at-law, in an impatient tone, as though he wished to enjoy the delightful communion of his own thoughts. and while the scion of the law was wending his steps towards the hudson bay company store--that mammoth collection of goods from every clime--the father, yea rather grandfather, of variety stores-- the disciple of coke and blackstone takes out of his breast pocket a letter, which, judging from its crumpled state, must have claimed the reader's attention more than once. "five thousand dollars--not bad, by jove," muttered mr. sharpley, in firm set tones, then began whistling the air accompanying the words: "never kick a man when he's going down the hill." before going further let us take a survey at nicholas sharpley, esq., attorney-at-law, as he sits with his right arm resting on the desk and his left supporting his very important head. he is about thirty-five years of age, or perhaps less. his face is long and his chin sharp, so that his name is no misnomer. a pair of glittering, steel-like eyes, play a prominent part in the expression of his face. a sinister smile plays hide-and-seek around the thin, pale lips, while the movement betray a flexibility of mind that is not nattering to the possessor. there is about the man a striking combination of uriah heap and mr. pecksniff; which, to an honest-minded man, rendered him intolerable. but nicholas sharpley had his followers, and thrived and shone bright among the legal luminaries, and was always ready to do the most unprincipled jobs to be met with. a cunning leer passed over the greyish countenance as the dazzling vision protruded itself before mr. sharpley. he drew his fingers convulsively through the mass of bristling hair (which might be designated by that color known as iron grey), and then suppressing a yawn, muttered: "it's worth the trying. the fellow's good for another five--that's a bonanza these devilish hard times." the attorney then glanced over the contents of the prized letter once more and evidently experienced a fresh sensation of delight. "tracy beats the devil--all for the sake of a girl too; bet my life she's no better than the rest of them. well, mr. tracy, my humble client, you will pay a good price for the enchanting dearie, who has caught you body and soul--fools--fools--men are fools." poor nicholas made the last assertion with much force of manner, betraying his own feelings more than he would have dared to acknowledge. dame rumor had not been sparing in circulating the love affairs of our attorney-at-law, and when she fearlessly came forward and declared that a certain maiden with more pin money than beauty, rejected his suit, there went forth from the four walls of the bachelor's apartments an edict ruthlessly vowing vengeance upon the whole sex, and comforting himself with the thought that he loved a good horse better than anything in this fluctuating world. "ten thousand out of it; not a bad speck--and that in the eight per cent--a thousand times better than the other side of the bargain. eh, moll?" the latter part of the sentence was addressed to the pretty animal that was reined up before the court-yard just as the speaker rose to his feet. it was four o'clock and mr. sharpley, taking the ribbons from the boy with all the importance of his position, rode down main street towards the old fort, and afterwards through the different streets lined with the most imposing and stately residence so characteristic of the southern portion of the city. have patience, reader, while we give another thought to the crumpled letter. its pages make mention of one very dear to us. phillip lawson is on the eve of being the dupe of two unprincipled schemers. hubert tracy knew well where to look for an accomplice. he possessed money or the means of getting it, and he knew that for the precious dust the high handed and unscrupulous soul of nicholas sharpley was his only help. "ten thousand--not bad--and more to follow," were the words that rose to mr. sharpley's lips and which he muttered incoherently as he sat over a rubber of whist in a private apartment of the hotel on the self-same evening, and as the many-sided character of the attorney-at-law presented itself, we can see in bold relief a placard bearing the mark "$ , --not bad--and more to follow." and there is another on the eve of happiness--a rival is to be set aside--that other is hubert tracy, and the rival is phillip lawson. within a few hours from the time that mr. sharpley had made up his mind, there lay on the office desk a letter addressed: w. clarke connor, esq., barrister, portage, la prarie. barrister at portage la prarie. yes, my friend; barristers at the northermost corner of the earth. mr. connor was a man of fifty years or upwards. he had formerly practised in winnipeg and in his office nicholas sharpley first entered as a law student. doubtless the quick-sighted lawyer saw in the former much in common with his own sordid nature and liked communion with kindred spirits, for nicholas sharpley rose high in mr. connor's esteem, and when the latter started out for "greener fields and pastures new," he was in full confidence of the affairs of the younger lawyer. mr. connor was a man whom few liked but very many dreaded. he had the power of ingratiating himself in favor when he was least sought, and his bland oily manner could scarcely be disconcerted. "that old nuisance of a connor is always poking his nose where he is not wanted," was often heard from any outspoken miss who had the audacity to express her honest thoughts. mr. connor always appeared to take a very great interest in church affairs and from his indefatigable labor generally strove to be at the head of all measures advanced in the interest of his own church. whether or no the congregation of the pretty presbyterian church on the outskirts of the town appreciated such labor we will not say but let the reader judge for himself. but to the subject in question. mr. sharpley had no hesitation in disclosing his mind on the present burning question. a great inducement was to be held out to mr. lawson to enter into partnership with the said mr. connor, barrister. nothing was to be left undone in order to accomplish this scheme. the wide field, large practice, wealth of the country; its future greatness was pictured in a wonderfully clever manner. mr. sharpley had been made acquainted with the affairs of the st. john barrister in every particular. hubert tracy had carefully noted the average salary of the latter and found that it was only by dint of perseverance and up-hill work that he could meet all his demands. "the stronger the inducements the easier the job," was tracy's advice to the winnipeg lawyer and it is needless to say that such advice was carried out to the letter. portage la prarie was indeed an enterprising little town and possessing many of the characteristics of earlier settled districts. on main street are to be seen several fine buildings, fine stores and fine residences, while pacific and belliveau hotels are quite imposing. and the education of the youth is not forgotten. on an elevated position commanding a fine view of the town stands the new schoolhouse, a pretty and imposing structure with surroundings in keeping with such an institution. and to this habitation the young lawyer was to be consigned. he could not see his way out of the arrangement to which he had partially given his consent. and when mr. sharpley's letters were read and re-read, phillip lawson was in no enviable state of mind. to do or not to do--to do was invariably the answer. then there arose another side to the question, which the young man hardly durst think of. "i may stay here until my hair is gray, and what matters it? i have no reason to think that there ever will be any hope for me in that respect." here phillip fell to musing, and what his musings were, we may divine from the foregoing speech. he considered mr. tracy in several ways, and though he felt a little uneasiness in the matter attributed it to the morbid state of his own mind. "with a wider field i can do something," murmured the lawyer, as he gathered up the loose sheets of paper lying around and threw them into the waste basket. but phillip lawson only saw one side of the proceeding--the alluring, tempting side. there was, indeed, a complication of schemes already concocted, and each one was to follow in a well conceived and nicely arranged order--"a wheel within a wheel," as hubert tracy coolly expressed himself. perhaps no more diabolical scheme could have been more cleverly planned to ruin the character of a fellow-being. but it is ever thus, and shall be until the arch fiend, who first plotted in the amaranthine bowers of eden, shall be cast out forever beyond the reach of mortal ear. had phillip lawson now received the timely warning of one kind friend--but there was none to warn. if he asked the advice of some older members of the profession, the answer invariably was: "try it, my boy, if you think you will succeed." so the outcome of it all was that the young man had made up his mind to try it, and, after a long conversation with hubert tracy, resolved to inform mr. sharpley of his intention at the earliest opportunity. but tracy was not so deeply enthusiastic as might be expected. he seemed quite indifferent as to the result, and the change would have puzzled as wise a head as mr. lawson's. great was the surprise of the latter when a few mornings earlier mr. tracy called to bid good-bye. he was ready to take the train for halifax, whence he was to sail for england. "i may never see you again, lawson, so think of me as you will," cried the young man, with a sudden outburst of energy quite foreign to his nature. "you may not go to the north-west?" "i certainly shall," answered the lawyer, determinedly. "well may god prosper you, old boy," cried hubert tracy with a choking sensation in his throat, and rushing madly out phillip lawson caught the peculiar glance in his eye which he many a time called to mind years afterwards when he could interpret it with all clearness--the look which seemed to plead for forgiveness--which seemed to say, "i was desperate and the devil tempted me, i was indeed brought up by a good, pious mother." but it matters not that hubert tracy had been early trained in the paths of right, he was possessed of a weak many-sided nature and fell a prey to vice on the first opportunity. worse still, he appeared in good society and was looked upon alike by maidens and mothers as a most desirable acquisition by way of alliance, notwithstanding the fact that many had doubts concerning the tone of morality set up as his standard. let us, however, earnestly hope that the pure heart of marguerite verne shall never come in contact with such deadly poisonous influence. may she ever remain the guileless, sweet creature that she now is. chapter xv. helen's celestial sketches. a few mornings after marguerite had arrived from "gladswood" she was sitting in the library writing a note to cousin jennie. a fresh young voice gaily greeted her and helen rushton stood before her, a pretty picture in her morning costume of delicate cambric. "madge, darling, it seems a year since i saw your dear old face!" cried helen enthusiastically, at the same moment embracing the former in truly genuine style. marguerite returned her friend's salutation, and putting her into an old-fashioned arm-chair drew her own seat near and was ready for a good chat. "madge, i have news for you." "good news or bad news?" queried marguerite. "both," said helen, "can you guess?" "spare my patience, helen, i am no good at guessing." "then you give up?" "i do, but you know full well that i have as much curiosity as any of eve's daughters." "indeed, madge, i will not give you credit for any such thing. i do think you have the least curiosity of any girl i ever met--you are far above it, you precious darling." "be careful, helen, or i shall begin to have more conceit than is strictly in accordance with what is right," said marguerite earnestly. "but of the news, helen? you see, i cannot conceal the weakness after all you have said." "well, i shall not tease you any more. last evening i received a letter saying that papa was called away to england on business to be absent for three months, and as mamma's health is delicate the physicians thought the trip would be highly beneficial to her. papa and mamma both write and ask if i would like to remain here while they are absent." "oh, i am so glad helen--of course you will," cried marguerite in earnest pleading tones. "yes madge, i will stay. my brothers are in philadelphia and the dear old home would seem very lonely." helen was about to say more but the unceremonious arrival of josie jordan brought it to an abrupt end. "well, of all things! you girls here! i do think i am mean to come when i wasn't sent for. now madge verne, you are one of the meanest girls i ever met." "what have i been guilty of now, josie?" "oh yes, to be home more than a week without sending fred. or charlie to let me know. and this precious article," pointing to helen, "i thought in halifax." "am sorry you are so sadly disappointed, josie." "come now miss helen, i mean no offence and though it is nearly two months since i saw you, remember i have not forgotten your promise." "what about?" asked helen. "celestial entertainment, my dear," ventured madge. "i thought myself to be free, for you know, my dear, that was some time ago," said helen, laughing. "i'm ready with questions girls. let us call the house to order. is the house ready for the question?" cried josie, jumping to her feet and brandishing a lignum vitae rule which she held in her hand. "well girls to be serious i don't know how to begin. last evening i had a note from marion and she says they had a most delightful time at the encaenia and spoke of two young gentlemen who graduated with the highest honors. i met them frequently and received much kindness from them." "suppose you saw in them a 'roland and an oliver,'" cried josie, making a series of amusing grimaces. "one was from westmoreland and the other from kings--the latter, i am told, is the banner county for intelligence and ability." "now helen rushton, i am not going to stand that," exclaimed josie, her eyes sparkling with good natured repartee--"indeed the famous county of st. john has been the birthplace of men who ranked high in intellectual ability, proud attainments and held their own with the professionals, legislators and statesmen of other countries." "well done josie, you are true to the core," cried helen in rapt admiration at the defiant and fearless girl. "what if york could have her say, i suppose _she_ claims to be historic and grand too," remarked marguerite with a sly glance towards helen. "aye, and that she is, too," said the latter, the bright color on her cheek betokening the earnestness of her speech, "surely you will give to york the credit of the th regiment. it was while there i heard much of that glorious march which is unparalleled in history. when the brave veterans set forth amid all the hardships of piercing winter winds and boundless wastes of snow, the patriotic band, their hearts kept warm by the patriotic fire within, toiling on without a murmur, and singing snatches of song to sustain their drooping spirits, at last reached the goal; and when called into action, fought bravely and to the end, shedding greater lustre on the province of their birth than if each soldier had been raised to a peerage." "new brunswick has many such true, loyal and brave sons, helen, and if the hour should come when our country demands them, not one will shirk his duty." marguerite verne was the speaker, and at that moment the enthusiastic expression of her face showed that the girl would not stand idly by if she could also administer to the sufferings of the wounded and the dying. "well, i do believe we are the oddest crowd of girls in existence. just look where our conversation has landed us, and for goodness sake look at madge! one would suppose she was starting off with an ambulance and all the other requisites necessary for a field nurse! ha! ha! ha!" josie's ringing laugh infected the others, and a general laugh succeeded. "this reminds me of an evening while in fredericton," said helen. "some company happened in, and after music we formed a party for whist, and during the first half hour as the game progressed the conversation was, strange to say, of a serious nature, when in an instant a bright, happy girl sitting near me, by an unconscious remark, completely changed the current of thought and convulsed the entire party with fits of laughter." "how i would have enjoyed it, helen. if there be anything in this world that i admire in people it is a propensity for laughing," said josie. "yes," added marguerite, "if people laughed more heartily there would be less doctor's bills to pay, and less palatial drugstores at every corner." "i believe so, too; but as i have many friends among the medical faculty, would not like to take a shingle off by advising too frequent hilarity," said helen, laughing herself as contradiction to the speech. "oh, i forgot, helen; you said that you visited in a professional gentleman's family. i hope your host would not be among the list to be boycotted by our new method of prescription?" we will not give helen's answer. suffice it to say the girls received all the facts they wished to know, and felt more than ever impressed with helen's ideas of celestial hospitality. then followed a vivid description of several of the m.p.p.'s, particularly the younger members of that august assemblage. "the crichton's of the house, did you say, helen?" cried josie, abruptly. "yes, several are considered quite beaux; i believe many of the young ladies have had designs upon them." "and they are invulnerable?" "not exactly so, if rumor is correct; but as i never met the young ladies in question, cannot tell you much about it. yes, i was at several parties, and had a good opportunity of seeing many people." "did you form as favorable opinions of the fair sex, there as those of our set?" "you absurd girl! what a question! well, to be candid, i saw much to approve and much to disapprove. one thing i did not like--that was the young ladies invariably flirted with the married gentlemen, and _vice versa_,--anything i despise in this world is a male flirt." helen rushton drew herself up proudly and looked the embodiment of scorn and disgust. "and i dare say little helen was not behind in the list, for you see, girls, she favors it among the fair beauties." "josie jordan, i would not stoop so far beneath the dignity of woman as to indulge in the most 'harmless flirtation,' and i pity the woman who does so; but man, with all his high sense of honor, and in possession of those manly graces which, when properly directed, are a guiding-star to society, falls low indeed when he becomes what is generally termed a flirt." "dear me," cried josie, "and you really passed through the campaign without making an attack upon any of the celestials?" "i am not going to tell you, josie. i only wish you to know that i walked, danced, sang and was kindly entertained, and hope that i may only have an opportunity of returning such kindness when any of those acquaintances should happily tread on haligonian classic soil." "i believe the poetic and aesthetic of the celestial have taken, deep root already! girls, just listen to the style of speech--tread on classic soil!" at this marguerite smiled, yet she did not altogether endorse josie's repartee, and going to a cabinet took out a portfolio, which she passed to helen. "excuse me, josie, i had almost forgotten to have these sketches ready to send by the evening mail. i have promised two of them to cousin jennie, and really am at a loss to decide--which do you like best?" marguerite had now arranged several pretty sketches before her companions, and to decide was no easy task. "this is cute!" cried josie, holding up the foremost of the group. "the banks of nith," remarked helen, examining the pretty scotch landscape with the air of a connoiseur. "yes, i believe jennie will like that," said marguerite, taking the proffered sketch. "like it? she will adore it! for if she be like me she will admire anything that is scotch--scotch music--oh, girls! is there anything on this earth more enchanting than a quaint old scotch ballad?" "yes; and if madge or yours very humbly ever gets to halifax we may expect a daily repast of oatmeal bannocks," turning towards helen, and was about to exercise some of her latent strength upon her, when a reminder from marguerite caused her to turn in dismay. "look what you have done!" the sketches were lying upon the carpet. instantly josie was on her knees; and as she placed each sketch upon the cabinet, described its merits and demerits most heartily. a pretty companion sketch--"kilchurn castle," rendered famous by wordsworth--was also selected, and when the package had been sealed it passed into josie's hands to be mailed on her way homeward. before the girls separated, helen had given a glowing description of a choral service in the cathedral. she described the building itself with the precision of an architect, not excepting the massive key which was also in keeping with the style of architecture--the form of a cross. and this grand and imposing gothic structure, its solemn service, inspiring music pealing along the corridors, echoing and re-echoing through the vaulted arches, the solemn procession wending slowly down from the altar and entering by the eastern door, the prelates in the order of succession. "it was a sight i shall never forget," said helen, with a peculiar earnestness. "i stood long in the grand tesselated vestibule and took in the scene, and as i did so, i noticed a young gentleman who seemed spell-bound; he was wrapped in deep enthusiasm, and on making enquiries learned that the dreamer was an artist--a native artist-- in fact i could almost see the poetic glow overspreading each feature of the expressive face." "and thus it ended that helen rushton went to the celestial and fell in love with a celestial artist. amen, so let it be!" "josie jordan, how irreverent!" "forgive me, madge! i forget that i am in the presence of high church people. now dear, i will be ever so humble." josie's contrition was of short duration. within a few moments she had to be reproved for interrupting helen in the midst of a short but clearly-defined picture of the university and the pretty groves and avenues. "i am determined to see those places later in the season." "then you will be repaid a thousand times, helen," said madge, a smile resting upon the madonna-like face and throwing a halo around her. "last summer a number of friends were staying at the 'barker,' and in the meantime cousin jennie and i found ourselves in uncle william's care and registered at the 'queen.' it was a lovely morning in august, and as we were engaged to attend a garden party on the self-same evening, we set off in the direction of mr. bebbington's garden, to get some of his choice roses. i was somewhat ahead of the party, and on turning the corner of queen and church streets the scene was truly enchanting. i was pleased to be alone to drink in the grandeur. i never could half describe that picture, it was as one brief glimpse of some paradise that appears only in dreamland. not a sound marred the effect. all was calm and peaceful indeed. stretching out in graceful curves lay the river, looking indeed like living silver; the soft, green sward and grassy bank; then the cathedral in its sombre gothic dress, its leafy grove, its hallowed associations. i looked further, and there stood the outlying hills crowned with lovely foliage, and above all the soft, fleecy clouds chasing each other through the blue sky. soft and beautiful as an italian landscape! and the neat, suburban cottages with artistically-arranged flower gardens in front. all was in keeping with the scene. 'no sound of busy life was heard.' "as i stood in wrapt admiration, the cathedral clock chimed out in soft, silvery tones, summoning the worshipper to the morning matin. presently a figure emerges from the doorway of a neat residence and crosses the street. it is the lord bishop, who for so many years has crossed the same well-beaten path. the calm serenity of the place, the hour and the solemnity of the scene was overpowering. i dared not wait until the ethereal sweetness of the music would cease. i took one lingering gaze and murmured: this is indeed elysium--a step nearer heaven, and with feelings of reverential awe set forth on my errand." "it must indeed have been grand!" cried the listeners in concert. "i can never forget it," said marguerite, "and if you should ever happen to see the same picture, you can imagine my emotions at the time." "it is growing late, and i must attend to business," said josie, taking up the package and setting off for the post office, while helen and marguerite stood on the balcony throwing tokens of affection, and as the coquettish form was lost in the distance, helen, turning towards her companion, said: "if josie could only remain as she is--a grown-up child!" chapter xvi. mrs. arnold as a diplomatist. some evenings later phillip lawson found his way to "sunnybank." he was received by the stately mistress with more than usual courtesy. "you have surely forgotten us of late, mr. lawson," exclaimed she, in a playful and remonstrating style. "are we to attribute your delinquency to business or total neglect?" "i must plead business to a certain extent, mrs. verne," said the young man with a quaint dignified reserve. "i understand that you intend spending your vacation at 'gladswood' mr. lawson. really i envy you the prospect, for it is a truly delightful spot." mrs. verne had seated herself upon the sofa. she wore a rich black moire robe which, with the addition of a magnificent display of garnets with setting of gold, made an elaborate costume. "i am sorry that circumstance has cancelled my engagement in that direction. in fact i regret it deeply, i was anticipating too much and was justly punished." "it must be weighty business that would thus interfere, mr. lawson. i am inclined to believe that you are already becoming too worldly." mrs. verne had raised her jewelled fingers and rested them upon her forehead. among the many weaknesses of mrs. verne was her vain and uncontrollable desire to show off her beautifully shaped hands--fit models for the sculptor's chisel--rivals for those of, the venus of cnidos by praxiteles. the young barrister had kept his negotiations quiet and had no intention to gratify the woman's curiosity. marguerite now entered accompanied by louise rutherford. the latter had returned from montreal and was making her first call at "sunnybank." "mr. lawson has just been receiving a slight reproof, young ladies, and i think you have arrived in time to assist me," said mrs. verne glancing at louise with a bewitching smile. "i for one always think that when mr. lawson neglects any part of his duties it is wholly from inability to perform them," said louise. "duties! that is the great trouble. it is to duty that we attribute the true source of our complaint. to the stern goddess is sacrificed every would-be pleasure." "forgive me mrs. verne, i believe that mr. lawson is right, and forgetful of every presence louise exclaimed:-- "stern daughter of the voice of god, o duty, if that name thou love, who art a light to guide, a rod to check the erring, and reprove-- thou, who art victory and law, when empty terrors overawe; from vain temptations dost set free, and calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity." "noble girl," thought the young man, "those words give me greater strength." little did marguerite verne dream of the thoughts passing through mr. lawson's mind as he bowed acknowledgment to her companion's quotation. the rising blush betrayed louise rutherford's embarrassment. "really mr. lawson, i beg to be excused. i have a habit of committing to memory any subject that i admire and it sometimes makes me seem very ridiculous when they unconsciously repeat themselves." "not in this particular, i assure you, miss rutherford," said the young man very earnestly, and as marguerite fancied, with a hidden meaning in their depths. "i presume you are aware that mr. tracy has sailed for europe?" said mrs. verne, casting a meaning glance at marguerite and watching the effect upon mr. lawson. "yes; i was somewhat surprised when he called at the office to make his adieu. it must surely have been an impromptu arrangement. within a fortnight he had been planning a different course," said mr. lawson, quite cheerily. "sooner or later he will join mr. and mrs. arnold," said mrs. verne, referring to the newly wedded pair with proud delight. "that will be very pleasant, indeed," said mr. lawson. "would you not like to be one of the party, madge?" cried louise, with all the honest enthusiasm of her nature." "i cannot say that i would," replied marguerite. "oh! you are such an old-fashioned home body, madge; i might know your answer without asking the question. suppose i might ask _you_, mr. lawson," ventured louise, persistent in getting a favorable reply. the young barrister smiled, and that smile was a conquest in itself. it had powers to enable a mild and _spirituelle_ maiden to form a resolve that was as unyielding as the marble hearthstone beside her, while on the other hand it exercised a spirit in the calculating matron that no human influence could brook. mr. lawson had little thought of the agencies at work in those two beings of widely different natures, and of which time alone will interpret the result. marguerite verne was sweetly irresistible. her dress was simple--a sweet simplicity in every look, motion and gesture. the pure white draperies gave to the _spirituelle_ face the radiance of a madonna, and placed the maiden in striking contrast to the sparkling bright and witty louise--a striking and high-spirited brunette, with a mind of no common order. as mr. lawson sat in the verne drawing-room with the being that he idolized so near him, a deadly struggle was going on within. what a conflict--what doubt, what irresolution! it was worse than ever to give up all earthly hope, all earthly happiness. what prevented the young man--aye, every inch a man--from falling on his knees and declaring his love, and begging a slight return for such love? go ask the weird sisters upon whose spindles hang the threads of every human life! go ask the winds that echo the wails of human hearts and often carry them along with a cruel insatiable spirit of revenge, until all is hushed in the stillness of death. mrs. verne dwelt with pride upon the adulation which her firstborn was receiving in them other country. mrs. arnold's beauty had been commented upon in the journals; her face was sought after in all the fashionable resorts, and her queenly torso was the subject of every artist. "they are going to remain for some weeks in paris, and i am really afraid that evelyn will be intoxicated with gaiety. she is such a lover of society, the dear girl, and montague is just as fond of gaiety as eve. what a happy couple they must be--they write such sweetly interesting letters. really, mr. lawson, it would do one good to read them." the subjects of those remarks were in the meantime enjoying life at a hotel in picadilly. they had seen the sights of the great french metropolis, but were they really enjoying life as it should be. was there real true happiness existing between these two hearts--"this happy couple?" this is a question to be answered in due time, and which will be "sweetly interesting" to know. when mr. lawson rose to take leave he was uncomfortably conscious of the patronage bestowed upon him. mrs. verne was radiant in smiles and gave her hand to the departing guest with the grace of a dowager. "you must not stay away so long again, mr. lawson. remember if you do, i shall be very angry, and, perhaps, not so easily conciliated." it did, indeed, seem a coincidence that at the very moment that louise rutherford had asked marguerite if she did not wish to be one of the tourists that a thought flashed through mrs. vernes' head with the rapidity of lightning, and in less time than is conceivable was formed into high and daring resolve. and more surprising still is the fact that some hours previous the same bent of thought was being cherished by the wily mrs. montague arnold. the latter was determined that through her influence upon her worldly mother that marguerite should wed hubert tracy, heir to sir peter tracy's grand estates. "mamma will accomplish her end if any person on earth can do it, and marguerite is too good, too conscientious, to disobey." was this peerless beauty so fond of hubert tracy? did she entertain, such high opinion of this fashionable young man? no! he had riches-- that was all in all. that was one reason; and another, it would be the means of outwitting philip lawson, whom she hated with a bitter hate. when evelyn verne gave her hand to montague arnold she never gave her heart. her marriage was in the eyes of the world a good match, and that was all that was necessary. mr. arnold was a man of the world, addicted to many habits that were not what the better side of life would approve of; but his wife had her failings, likewise, and she availed herself of the license thus given her--the liberties of fashionable folly. mrs. arnold being a beauty, was courted by the gay and fashionable world. she flirted without restraint, and took delight in making conquests among the degenerated nobility, and lost no opportunity of displaying her charms. excitement was as necessary to mrs. arnold's nature as the air is necessary for the support of animal life. she was buoyed up by excitement and kept alive by excitement. life was one giddy round of delights--the dejeuner fete, opera, and ball-room. it matters not to know whether this woman of fashion ever gave one thought to the real object of life--whether she even dreamed that god gave man an intellect, with mind-power capable of being brought nearer that state from which he fell ere he lost the impress of the divine; but it matters us to know that she strove to bring every one whom she met on a level with her own superficial mind. "madge must marry hubert tracy; once with us she is perfectly safe. papa will be beyond reach, and his counsel or suggestions will not come in time." such was the comment of mrs. arnold as she stood opposite the elegant plate mirror which reflected a life-size portrait of herself. "i am beautiful, and it is but in justice to myself that 'i improve the shining hour.' oh, montague arnold, you were a lucky man to wed such a prize," murmured the woman, clasping her hands over her head in an attitude often seen upon the stage when the actress is exhibiting much feeling: then looking into the depths of the brilliant dark eyes, exclaimed, "what jewels can compare with thee, my priceless orbs?" the elegant evening costume was a marvel in itself--creamy lace, shining satin, and flowing draperies, while bright jewels gleamed from the dusky hair and burned upon the heaving bosom. "evelyn, my queen, you are ready for the conquest!" cried the beauty, taking one long gaze, and then picking up the jewelled fan that fell at her feet went forth at the summons of the waiting-maid to receive a visitor in the drawing-room. "the hon. cecil featherstone! the man is my slave! why is he here at such an early hour?--it is too bad! what shall i do with poor huntington, my latest flame? oh, dear! i wish the men were not so incorrigible! featherstone--it ought to be featherhead, for i believe his head is sadly light of brains. featherhead--hon. cecil featherhead!--ha! ha! ha!" had not the grand drawing-room been at the other end of the spacious hall the latter part of mrs. arnold's speech would have been heard by the subject of these remarks. be it said, to that gentleman's ease of mind, that he was in the meantime admiring some choice paintings and counting the minutes hours until the fair hostess should arrive. "this is an unexpected pleasure, mr. featherstone! i was really wondering what i should do with myself until the opera--and how kind of you, mr. featherstone, to think of me! i believe that i am one of the most favored of mortals!" having made this speech, mrs. arnold cast upon mr. featherstone one of her duly-organized smiles--a smile that was magnetic, and that set the heart of the luckless visitor into a flutter beyond recall. "my dear mrs. arnold, you certainly do me the highest honor that can be bestowed upon a human being"--mr. featherstone felt considerable difficulty in getting off this speech, but another glance at the fair creature and he continued--"for you are certainly born to be worshipped at a distance--a something too lovely to be approached by anything this side of paradise!" "oh, mr. featherstone, spare me this flattery--i cannot really receive such, and from you-one endowed with such intellectual power, such ability and such genius! the thought is really dreadful!" mrs. arnold's assumed earnestness of manner was indeed flattery of the seventh degree to the superficial mr. featherstone. he was transported to empyrean air. mrs. arnold had insight and her opinion was something to cherish. poor mr. featherstone! the conversation that followed was extravagant to the highest degree, and he went away that evening in a state of great disquietude, wondering why it was that it had not been his good fortune to meet his ideal of female loveliness ere she was wedded to another. "that miserable bore! i am late in writing mamma's letter. i really wonder what she would say if she saw me flirting with the hon. cecil featherstone! but i must be cautious, for i want the simple-minded madge to share my blissful fate." a servant in livery entered in answer to the summons of the bell-rope. "has james gone for the evening mail, watkins?" demanded mrs. arnold in an imperious tone. "he has not gone yet, my lady." "go and see how long before he does." "yes, my lady," said the servant, bowing very low, and with an air that seemed to say he was in the presence of royalty. the said watkins had seen service in distinguished families, and the habit, though a ridiculous one, had become second nature, he invariably addressing every woman of fashion as "my lady." mrs. arnold was pleased to learn that she could put her plan into execution without a moment's delay, and being a rapid writer she wrote and sealed a formidable-looking document, which she styled "mamma's letter," and within a few minutes saw it safe in the mail-bag awaiting the arrival of james, the trustworthy footman. what the letter contained and its effects upon the different members of her family will follow in another chapter. chapter xvii. mr. spriggins makes a discovery. it is indeed, a warm july day--a fine hay day--and the people of mill crossing are taking advantage of the occasion. they are turned out _en masse_. mowing machines are called into active service, and the new inventions--reapers, binders, etc.--are also at hand. the farmers of this favored locality are pretty well to do, and conspicuous among the number is our friend mr. spriggins. the spriggins farm was well cultivated. a good frame house and commodious barns speak of the industry of the sprigginses. there was also a heavy stock upon the farm, and that fact alone is sufficient proof of its thrift. on the day in question we see the healthy, beaming face of mr. mose spriggins in the doorway. he had been very busy in the earlier part of the morning, but now had a few moments to talk to the young man who had been hired to help in haying time. the homestead, like many others that we see in country districts, had a snug room on each side of the narrow entrance--the one on the northeast side being fitted up for the best room, and used only on state occasions, such as weddings, quarterly meetings, etc. into this apartment moses peeped with an air of great caution, as much as to say "i must be keerful the old lady don't spy me in here with my big boots on." but important business was on hand. the mantel piece must be reached! the old clock that didn't go stood there, and within, its sheltering recess was a valuable document. "well, i never; if this eer room isn't as dark as egypt," exclaimed moses, going to the end window and hitching up the blind in that remarkable style peculiar only to the sterner sex. the light sun streamed in and brought out each article of furniture in bold relief. there was a brand new set of cane-seat chairs that the old lady had bought at stewart & white's the last time she had been to town. a woollen carpet from a. o. skinner's had lately taken the place of the home-made one which now graced the spare bedroom up stairs. a motto, "god bless our home," hung over the mantel, and a few chromos relieved the walls. a large, beautifully bound bible lay on the table, and beside it a photograph album, which had been subscribed for a few days previous by the persistent, efforts of an indefatigable canvasser. a white tidy covered the back of the rocking-chair, and another the back of the lounge. an old-fashioned pitcher filled with sweet-brier and some of the old-time flowers, such as bachelors' buttons, london pride, blue rocket and jump-up-johnnie stood on a kind of sideboard and showed a desire to make the room attractive and inviting. in this apartment the young man stood for about five minutes' time, then exclaimed: "by golly! i must soon git; for if the old lady catches me i'm a goner." suiting the action to the words moses made his exit, carrying in his hand a sheet of paper which, on gaining the door, he folded and thrust into his bosom. "where's n'h'miar gone, bill?" "he's up to widder smith's; ned was here a few minnits ago and said he was a' wantin', so off he sot; but he said to tell you he would be back less 'n ten minnits." "the 'tarnal fool, to be a runnin' arter the smithses every time they want him," exclaimed mr. spriggins, seating himself under a tree to take the afternoon lunch which now had arrived. "why didn't mother send a bushel more?" exclaimed moses, eyeing the basket of bread and butter, cakes and pie--real raspberry pie. a slice of bread was followed by a mug of milk. then moses took a glance at the document, probably as a means of facilitating digestion. "great scott! what's this? well, if i'm not one of the darnd'st fools on this side the crossin'. well, if that ar' lawyer won't think me a nice 'un, and like as not a thief." mr. spriggins had been at mr. lawson's office some days' before, and bore away some advice, written down, that he "might not forgit." the barrister had received several visits from his client, and each time had treated the said client with considerable favor. mr. lawson somewhat admired the honest-hearted young farmer, and really was interested in him, and felt a sympathy which was unaccountable. "one good turn deserves another, mr. lawson, and i may throw something your way some day." there really did appear to be little value in this remark; but strange to say, in it were bound up phillip lawson's hopes, happiness, yes, all that was dearer than life. the sturdy son of toil proved his truest friend, and to the hour of his death he will ever cherish the thought wholly sacred. but of mr. spriggins' surprise! he had opened the letter to read the advice on trespass (which sooner or later is the experience of every farmer), when to his dismay another letter dropped out. it bore the address of the winnipeg solicitor, and evidently was some private correspondence of his respected counsellor, mr. lawson. "ginger, i must git to town soon, for it must be something important! darned if i know whether to read it or not. p'raps i'd better not. i couldn't go and tell a lie and say i didn't when i did. it would make a feller feel kinder streaked when he thought on't." mr. spriggins reasoned thus, and the upshot of it was that next morning, after he had got a man to take his place, set off to town, a distance of twenty-two miles. a pallor overspread the countenance of mr. lawson as he glanced at the missive which mr. spriggins placed in his hand, with the impression that it was business. "yes, it is indeed business, mr. spriggins, and i am your debtor for life," said the young man, extending his hand to the obliging moses and giving him that hearty shake which often betokens lasting gratitude. "call on me at any time, mr. spriggins; you will be in again soon, i presume." "after hayin', sir." "very well," and bowing the visitor out the lawyer once more took up the letter and read it slowly through. "heavens!" exclaimed the young man, excitedly. "i have it in my power to bring the scoundrel to justice. thank god, i have not fallen a victim to the villains. and to think of the simple way by which it is brought about. oh! heavenly father! to thee i am truly grateful." the speaker raised his eyes upwards, and a light shone upon the broad manly brow--a light that seemed really to descend from heaven. phillip lawson buried his face in his hands and remained thus for some time. during these moments what a rush of thought passed through the busy brain. what a change from the last fortnight, when he had made up his mind to leave for a distant town in the far west. "and yet, if it had not been for the second part of the offence, i could have borne it; aye, it might have been better for me in the end. but the dreadful pit into which i was inevitably to fall--god forgive them. hubert tracy--we may never meet again, and if we do, you shall never know. and all engaged in it were of the profession. no wonder lawyers are denounced in the holy writ--" "my dear old brother looks as if he had lost every friend in the world." looking up phillip lawson saw a _petite_ figure in white cambric frock standing at his elbow. the child put her arms around her brother's neck and looked steadily into the honest grey eyes, so full of thought and so striking in their depths. "phillip, you are troubled, and you are hiding it from me. dearest and best of brothers, can i not help you? i am not the little child you think me. oh! phillip; i can be a woman when i am needed," and the large bright eyes filled with tears. "what nonsense, puss. what an imaginary little creature you are. now please drive away such silly thoughts, and when brother phillip is in need of sympathy he will ask none other than his little sunbeam." the young man then kissed back the sunny smiles and listened to the playful prattle which fell from the bright lips. then he thought of the lines-- "the tear down childhood's cheek that flows is like the dew-drop on the rose; when next the summer breeze comes by and waves the bush, the flower is dry." "what have you there, puss?" said phillip, glancing at the volumes in the child's hand. "i can scarcely tell you, but i believe they are good, for miss lewis recommended them." mr. lawson took up one of the volumes. it was miss alcott's first work--"moods." "it is very good, indeed, but i fear you are too young to appreciate it. there is an analysis of character that requires much mind knowledge, and that is why so many young girls consider it dry. if i were to explain it fully you would not understand; but you can read the volume through, and we will have a little chat when you have finished. i hope my little sister will not be impulsive and moody as the heroine." phillip then patted the golden curls, and as he stooped to kiss the pretty pouting lips he saw a fair vision of a lovely maiden, no longer a child on her brother's knee, but a sweet and amiable maiden, with a subdued and thoughtful look that showed she had struck a sympathetic chord in a fond brother's breast and given him the devotion of her first and purest love. then the dreamer vainly tried to draw another picture; but all was chaos. no bright form could be exorcised from the conglomerate heap. all was disorder--a ruined mound of buried hopes!--a blackness dark as the stygian shore. "is it not nice that we have a public library now!" cried the child in gleeful tone, so sadly in contrast to her brother's thoughts. "it is, indeed, puss. i wonder how you young ladies got along before we had one?" "we did not get along at all, brother phillip. annie morrison says that it was not living, only staying." "i suppose miss annie must be right," said the lawyer, turning to the other volume. "'tales of a grandfather.' in this you have something nice. i read it when quite a little boy, and i can remember much at it yet." "it is scott's, and anything of his i love," said lottie, with a womanly air. "it is historical, and such books are great helps to study. you must read some of it this evening, child. i am somewhat, tired, and will be both amused and entertained. you can sit in the old chair and i will play lazybones upon the lounge." hand in hand went the pair in the direction of the cottage. when phillip lawson sought the asylum of his own room he knelt down, and offered up a fervent prayer at the throne of mercy. a sense of relief followed, and a light seemed to break forth amidst the gloom--a light that lightened the dark path of life and portended to usher in a new and happier day. the last look of hubert tracy received interpretation, and as phillip lawson thought over and over of the deep abyss into which he was so nearly to be plunged, tried hard to feel kindly towards the perpetrator of the double-sided crime. "god forgive him! let him pass into other hands than mine," was the young man's decision as he turned over the pages of the cruel letter. the young barrister was magnanimous in the highest degree. it was then the grandeur of his character shone in its purity and nobility, and as his sister came in with a tiny note she fancied that she heard him repeat in earnest tones the words "never-- never--never!" "this is for you, brother phillip; fred. verne left it this afternoon." a smile followed the reading of the note. it was from cousin jennie. the young lady had arrived in the city and was ready to convey him to "gladswood," free of charge. "lottie, can you get edith to stay with you this evening? i shall be out." the girl, with all the impetuosity of her nature, set off on the gleeful message, while phillip lawson mapped out a letter that was energetic and full of decision. "there will be no more solicitation from that quarter. heavens! it was a great temptation. well, if i had exposed them, what good could come of it." a few hours later mr. lawson was announced at sunnybank. cousin jennie was in her gayest mood. "i am ready for you. mr. lawson; what is your verdict?" cried she, giving him a hearty shake of the hand. "that the law must take its course," said mr. verne, who at that moment entered and gave the young man a warm greeting. "you have been sadly delinquent of late, mr. lawson. i ask the women folks, and the answer invariably is in the negative. now, if it were not that this little country girl is here i would carry you off to my den." "yes, uncle verne, it is just such an ungallant thing as you would do," cried jennie, giving her head a saucy toss. "madge, you are just in time to support our claims." "pray enlighten me, dearest," said marguerite, who, hat in hand, stood on the threshold. a second look caused a slight blush to mantle upon her cheek, and she came forward with a sweet smile and gave her hand to the welcome guest. "mamma has a severe headache and wishes me to convey her regrets to you, mr. lawson," said marguerite, on her return to the drawing-room a few minutes later. after the young girl made the above speech her eyes met those of her father, and she knew that he felt annoyed. did he think she had done wrong? she could not refuse to deliver her mother's message. and that headache! it was a purely conventional one--arranged for effect. mr. verne had occasion to say some hasty words to his wife. he could not sanction the steps she had taken in direct opposition to his advice, and he must speak his mind. he was a man of few words, but those words were to the point. thus while the rest of the family enjoyed themselves in the drawing-room mrs. verne gracefully reclined upon die gorgeous crimson lounge in her own room, and was as deeply interested in the heroine of the novel which she was reading as a maiden of eighteen. "half-past nine. how the time flies over a good book. it is better that i don't go down. i would be almost tempted to break the news. enjoy yourself while you may, my verdant friend. money will triumph over brains, especially when you have none of the former to back them up." mrs. verne picked up the ivory-backed hand glass within her reach, and looking into its depths, exclaimed, "mrs. verne, of st. john, new brunswick--not exactly beautiful, but a pretty and fascinating woman." as mrs. verne laid aside the glass and once more took up the novel--but not to read--her thoughts were bent upon conquest of an important nature. accomplish her end she must at the risk of all that was near to her, and all that ought to be dear to her. chapter viii. the vernes go to europe. "i declare nothing need astonish one nowadays," exclaimed mrs. montgomery, throwing aside the _daily telegraph_ announcing that mrs. and miss verne had sailed for europe the day before. "there's something that will explain matters," said mr. montgomery coming in with a letter with marguerite's initials on the corner of the envelope. jennie tore open the missive and hastily scanned the contents. "they went quite unexpectedly, mother," said the girl, with a slight quiver on the healthful lips, "else madge would have come to bid good-bye." jennie montgomery loved her sweet-faced cousin as she loved no other companion. madge was to her all that was good and lovely, and the thought of separation sent a strange thrill of emotion through her frame--a sense of loneliness that she had never known before. mrs. montgomery felt for her child, and adroitly referred to the fine opportunity of having a correspondent from the mother country, and the pleasure it would give marguerite to see the sights and curiosities and grandeur which she would hourly meet in her intercourse with the world. but this shrewd, penetrative woman took another view of the matter when alone in the presence of her husband some hours afterwards. "matilda needn't try to stuff such nonsense down our throats. she cannot make me believe but that she concocted the whole thing herself." mrs. montgomery was evidently aroused. her sallow face assumed a deeper color, and her eyes spoke out the honest convictions of her thoughts. "_poor evelyn_, indeed! she is just as much sick as i am at present. how they can trump up such things and make people believe them is more than i can see." mrs. montgomery plied her knitting needles with almost lightning rapidity, and the exercise seemed to give relief to the angry feeling that accompanied it. "you need not say a word in matilda's defence, william. i pity stephen verne from the bottom of my heart. it is always such men that become martyrs to the whims and tyrannical grievances of their wives." mrs. montgomery stooped to pickup the ball of yarn that had rolled under her chair, and her husband went towards the door as if to depart. "i tell you what it is, william, matilda verne is my own sister, but it grieves me to think so. talk of pride or dignity. she has none. pride--yes, a nice kind of pride that lives on lies and falsities of every description! but she cannot deceive me, thank heaven; i can read her through and through." "in some instances, my dear, your boasted accomplishment is not always of the most agreeable kind," said mr. montgomery, in his bland, easy manner. "never mind that part of it. i can bear it, since it gives the preciousness of seeing people as they are, their shallowness and their shams. is there anything genuine in this every-day world? really, each day i see something to disgust me." the speaker's face gave proof to her speech as she fixed upon her husband a long, earnest look. "poor marguerite it should be instead of poor evelyn. it is the pure minded girl that is to be pitied. marguerite is the victim of this freak. matilda will drag that child to the four corners of the earth to accomplish her ends." "my dear, you are severe. have some moderation," said mr. montgomery, in a conciliating tone. "moderation!" retorted the self-reliant wife--"moderation towards a weak-minded, unscrupulous fortune-hunter and match-maker--a despiser of those genuine graces which adorn the female mind and make woman what she should be. don't talk thus to me, william, else i shall feel that you would abet matilda in what she has undertaken, and what she may evidently accomplish." "god forbid," said mr. montgomery, with more vehemence than was peculiar to him. * * * * * marguerite had only one week's notice to prepare for the projected trip. she did not receive the summons with joy and eagerness, nor did she evince any pleasure in the preparations. "i shall have some beautiful costumes ordered for you when we arrive in london, my dear," said the fashionable mother on inspecting her daughter's wardrobe and commenting upon the array of materials before her. "really, mamma, if i am to be bored by _modistes_ from morn till eve i should prefer to remain at home. i know it is wrong to say so, but i almost wish that eve was well enough to get along without us." "i believe you, my dear," said mrs. verne, stroking her daughter's head, "but then you know it would be cruel to have the poor girl break her heart, moping away her time and begging to see a dear face from home." a wicked thought entered marguerite's head. she wondered if it were possible that her haughty sister ever possessed a true, honest heart? and was there in her marriage with montague arnold the least approach to sympathy? did the proud heart ever beat with one responsive throb for him whom she had chosen? as the maiden reasoned thus there was a slight pang which told her she had a heart, but that it must be silent--it must not be allowed to assert itself, but masked in conventionalities she must act the part of the worldly wise. mr. verne was piqued to the highest degree when his wife spoke of her intended tour. "why not put it off until next year and i may be able to accompany you. arnold can take care of eve without out assistance." the sound sense arguments were of no avail. "we must certainly go, and i should think it would be much pleasanter for us to think that we left home without any disagreeable feelings." "i suppose it is the best way to look at it," said mr. verne, quitting the room and going to his office, where in a few moments he was found by his beloved marguerite. "so my sunbeam is going to leave me," said the father, taking the girl in his arms and kissing the soft oval cheeks until a faint flush overspread them and the lips grew tremulous. "i do not want to go papa, but mamma says that she cannot think of going alone," said marguerite, as she nestled closer in her father's embrace and wound her arms lovingly around his neck. "perhaps the invigorating sea breeze may coax a few brighter roses," said the fond father, emphasizing his words by patting marguerite's cheek with childlike playfulness. "never mind, you dear old papa, they cannot force me to stay very long away from you. remember, if you hear of my doing desperate deeds it will be through madness to be once more beside you in this dear old spot." "ah, you silly little madge, you will soon find other attractions than your prosy dull old father, but you must reserve one little spot for him." mr. verne glanced at his pure and lovely child, and inwardly invoked god's blessing, and prayed that she might pass through the many temptations and dazzling allurements of fashionable follies unharmed. "darling papa, believe me, i care so little for society, so called, that i would rather spend a few hours each day among my dear home friends than be lionized in the highest courts in europe." "i believe you, my child," said mr. verne, placing his hand reverentially upon marguerite's head, "but it appears that it is a duty to go." "yes, papa, but i am inclined to be rebellious, and ask you to pray for me. sometimes i feel that i am not doing my duty in any way. it seems so hard to know the way before us." marguerite's face had a perplexed look and a shade of gloomy foreboding succeeded. "put your trust in god, my child--never forget him. he will be your best friend, when earthly friends will fail you." mr. verne was what is generally known as a "good-living man." he made no parade of his profession, but he tried to live at peace with his god and do right to each and every man. his religion was not put on with his sunday coat. he wore it into the counting-room as well, and carried it to chubb's corner, aye to every business resort and doled it out on every opportunity by acts of charity and christian benevolence. but of the departure. mrs. verne was in ecstacies of delight. everything pleased her. she superintended the manifold duties as if her whole soul was in the work, and beaming with smiles, flitted from one room to another with the playfulness of a child just setting out on its holiday season. "i hope we shall have no scenes from madge," said she to one of the friends who graced the drawing-room the day previous to their departure, "for anything i hate is a crowd gathered around with faces all gotten up for a funeral." here mrs. verne shrugged her shoulders and assumed a look of abhorrence. marguerite was leaving the conservatory as she overheard the remark, and she pressed more firmly the sprays of heliotrope and azalea which she held in her hand. "heaven help me," murmured the girl; "am i always expected to go through life with my feelings put away far out of sight-far away-- "deeply buried from human eyes?" looking upwards she remained motionless as the marble statue of psyche that adorned the recess in which she stood. then the lips moved and the words "put your trust in god," came forth soft and bewitching as the strain of an aeolian harp, and leaving, as it were, a holy hushed spell, subduing the soul of her who uttered it. it was well for marguerite that she had those precious moments of communion, and at no other time in her life did she need them more. they were the only beacon lights to guide her through the treacherous shoals into which she must inevitably steer her course. it was with such feelings that the girl stood at the station and shook each friend by the hand without the least tremor in her voice or tear in her eye. it did, indeed, cost a struggle to keep the pallid lips firm as marguerite returned her father's parting embrace; but strength had been given her. and the manly form beside him, phillip lawson, stood unmoved and erect, his face quiet in expression and not the least betrayal of the passion within his breast. mrs. verne, with the tactics of a shrewd diplomatist, had arranged matters to enable her to perform her part without opposition. marguerite had to devote much time to the pressing duties devolving upon her, and when mr. lawson called at "sunnybank" it always happened that she was out making her farewell calls. it was the last evening that marguerite should gladden her home, perhaps, for many months to come. the bronze clock on the mantel shelf struck the hour of eight. the drawing-room was unoccupied, and marguerite stealthily glided towards the piano and sat down. her beautifully-moulded hands rivalled the ivory keys before her, and would have tempted the genius of a phidias or a lysippus. soon a low, soft symphony sounded through the room a music that had power to move the soul and hold it entranced. "marguerite, darling, do not play like that. i cannot hear such music without feeling sad, and sadness must not intrude to-night." "perhaps this will suit you, papa," and instantly marguerite commenced to sing the old-time ballad, "the campbells are coming," in the liveliest manner possible, looking indeed the picture of happiness. "how is it that my little girl cannot attend to the social demands that press so lightly upon her?" said mr. verne, as the last notes of the song were ended. "i do not understand you, papa dear." "mr. lawson called and i heard one of the maids tell him that you were not at home." "it is strange that mamma did not send up to my room. i have not been out since ten o'clock this morning, when i went up to manchester's to buy the pretty little work-basket that i wish to carry to eve." "a work-basket for eve!" cried mr. verne, gaily. "what extravagant taste my little madge has!" marguerite smiled and then looked thoughtful. she tried hard not to see her worldly mother's feelings. yet she could not be blinded to the fact. "it is ungenerous of mamma to deny me," she thought. but her mother's shallowness was sacred to her innermost thoughts. much as she desired mr. lawson's visit, she offered not a word of complaint, but smilingly said, "papa, when you see mr. lawson please apologize for me and explain matters to your satisfaction as i know that you feel sensitive about it." "it will all come right soon--perhaps before you leave." as marguerite verne waved her last adieu to her fond parent and received his tender recognition, a second glance convinced her that all was made right, as phillip lawson raised his hat and stood with uncovered head until the train was out of sight. "crying at last, madge; i thought you could not bear up much longer," said mrs. verne, as she entered the seat with a new novel ready to devour, and smiling and bowing to several passengers whom she recognized. but the remarks were lost upon marguerite. she remained in deep abstraction for some moments, and then regaining consciousness, threw aside the pretty wrap, murmuring--"papa says it will all come right." chapter xix. gratitude. we will now direct attention to our much esteemed friend, phillip lawson, who has much to be grateful for. he hourly thanks his maker for the great mercies received at his hands. "let them fall into other hands than mine. it would do no good. poor wretches, i envy them not their ill-gotten gains. there is a day of reckoning, and may god cleanse their guilty souls." such were the lawyer's remarks as he sat alone in his office with a heavy load off his mind. he had just returned from witnessing marguerite verne's departure, and he felt calm and content. mr. verne had accompanied the young man to his door and left with many kind invitations for "sunnybank." how comforting was his kind, cheery voice and his parting: "now don't fail to drop in often, for i shall be very lonely, indeed." mr. verne is a thorough gentleman and true friend, thought phillip, as he turned over the last half-hour's conversation. "how thoughtful to explain marguerite's failure to see me last evening." then a slight frown settled upon the broad brow, showing that some disagreeable subject had in turn claimed the young lawyer's thoughts. "perhaps she may be better than i give her credit for. are there any of us perfect?" then musing for a few minutes he arose, the poet's words recurring to his mind-- "the best of what we do, and are, just god, forgive." on opening the daily mail the color rose upon phillip lawson's cheek, and his fingers became tremulous as he seized a letter showing the unsteady chirography of hubert tracy. "i will never open it," he thought, and instantly the missive lay a mass of shreds in the waste basket. "'out of evil good may come.' hubert tracy has taught me to be more grateful to the god who has done so much for me." "keep your temper, old boy," murmured the young man afresh as his eyes ran over the next letter--one dated from winnipeg. "to the flames i consign thee", said he, lighting a match and holding the provoking article over it until it was consumed. "halloo! i smell brimstone here. suppose you're practising so it won't be so hard on you when the time comes?" cried a genial, hearty voice from the open door. "glad to see you, mr. montgomery," said the occupant, offering a seat to his visitor. "how are all my friends at 'gladswood'?" "have hardly time to tell you, for i'm in a hurry. i promised to meet several of the sports at breeze's corner. we are going out to moosepath: but this will explain everything, and more too," cried mr. montgomery, producing a neat-looking note, and passing it to the young lawyer, making a hasty exit to meet said horsemen friends from sussex and the city. "i shall go to-morrow and stay over sunday, at any rate," said mr. lawson to himself when he had gleaned the contents of jennie montgomery's note. it was just what was necessary to the lawyer's existence. a day or two at "gladswood" was panacea for almost any ill that flesh was heir to. the self-reliant matron, with her healthful, stimulating advice, and the bright, merry-hearted girl with her vigorous and true resolve, were indeed incentives of good, and none could fully realize the fact more than the young lawyer. he always went away from "gladswood" with a high and lofty purpose and firm resolve to tread the path of duty. and this occasion proved no exception. jennie montgomery's happy face would put to shame the most inveterate grumbler. her buoyant spirits were infectious. her ringing, merry laugh was cheering to the highest degree. the sprightly maiden in her neat muslin frock and broad hat trimmed with freshly-plucked marguerites was a fit model of the fair daughters of kings county, and it was no wonder that many of the villagers predicted that "the young gentleman from the city must surely be payin' attention to miss montgomery." three days at "gladswood"! what a world of thought it conveys-- three days to revel among the beautiful glades and linger among the bewitching groves of graceful elm and tasselled pine! to hear the lowing of herds and the music of the winged songsters blended in one exquisite harmony. yes, devotees of the world, who build upon the style of your neighbor's dress or equipage and trifle away god's precious moments in silly show and vain trumpery, go to the retreats at "gladswood," follow phillip lawson in his daily rounds, and if you will not, like him, feel your heart expand and seek aspirations of a higher mould-- a something which gives comfort each breath you draw, each word you utter and each thought you frame!--then, we will make bold to say, your heart is irrevocably sealed beyond recall. cousin jennie was shrewd and witty. she knew how to act that she might afford the least embarrassment to her guest. for hours her guest was allowed to roam at his own desire, and felt not the pressure of conventional restriction. mr. lawson was gallant in the true sense of the word, but he was no empty-headed fop, paying that amount of overdue attention to the fair, which, at times, becomes a bore and a pest. it had been arranged that a small pic-nic party should relieve the quiet of the third day, and a jolly pic-nic it was. there was mirth enough to last for a month. jennie's companions had mustered _en masse_. groups of merry, rollicking youths and bright-eyed maidens lent a charm to the scene, and reminded one of the revels held in classic groves, when each sylvan deity, at a blast of her silver horn, made the wood resound with the voices of her myriads of subjects. as the sayings and doings of all pic-nics are much in common it would be wasting time to describe the one at "gladswood." "all went merry as a marriage bell." the sun was sinking in the west in all its glory--a blaze of living gold. the purple tops of the distant hills were enchanting and stood as huge sentinels of the scene below. "come here, mr. lawson," cried jennie montgomery, in breathless suspense. "is not that grand? this is a sight i have been wishing for. just look." mr. lawson was truly a lover of nature, and his profound admiration excited her. "i never stand here without thinking of marguerite," exclaimed the girl, vehemently; "she would sit upon that bowlder and gaze around until i would think that she had lost her senses. i believe if any being has a soul for the beautiful it is cousin marguerite." the young man looked down from his proud eminence and encountered the fixed gaze of his companion. that look gave anxiety. a painful silence was the only reply, and both gazed upon the panorama before them for fully five minutes before the girl spoke. "i can never forgive my cousin evelyn for forcing madge away. we all knew it was against her wishes that she went." how comforting those words to phillip lawson's ear. "mr. lawson," said jennie, coming close to his side, "i am not going to hide my feelings any longer. you are a very dear friend and must have my confidence." the young man's looks were proof of the girl's words. his face reflected thought sublime as aeschylus, beautiful as sophocles, and pathetic as euripides! "thank you, jennie," was the reply, and the eyes had a far-off look that went to the girl's heart. "you are going to-morrow, mr. lawson, and i may not have another such opportunity." it was then that the beauty of the maiden's nature shone resplendently, showering scintillations of pure native goodness that forever sparkled as sunshine and cheered the rugged path of phillip lawson's life! a crimson flush momentarily suffused jennie montgomery's face, then she became pale and agitated. "mr. lawson!" she exclaimed, "i love my cousin dearly, and i grieve for her more than i can tell you." the young man's face blanched under the effect of the girl's tones, but he made no reply. "forgive me if i weary you, but i seem to feel in you a friend--one in whom i find sympathy." "trust me fully, jennie, i will try to be all that you think me." phillip lawson's earnest tones went straight to the girl's heart, and tremulously she continued: "mr. lawson, you have not been a frequent visitor at my uncle verne's without seeing much to condemn in my worldly aunt. i know it is wrong to judge, but i cannot help it. i cannot help judging the motive of aunt verne--indeed i cannot." the listener had fixed his eyes upon the huge trunk of a venerable oak tree covered with a luxuriant growth of velvety moss. "i really cannot feel kindly towards cousin evelyn, for she has ruled with an iron rod, and she is so wily that auntie thinks her every action something perfect. now, mr. lawson," said jennie, with greater earnestness, "mrs. arnold is determined that marguerite shall marry that unprincipled mr. tracy, and the thought makes me sick. i loathe him--he is almost as contemptible as mr. montague arnold." mr. lawson knew not what to say. a struggle was going on within. would he reveal the plot to the truthful girl and ask her assistance--or would he let the secret die with himself and perhaps see the lovely marguerite become a victim to the merciless trio? the girl knew not what was passing in her companion's, mind, and the latter felt sadly puzzled. he durst not meet the gaze of the thoughtful brown eyes, but found words to reply: "you put me in a strange place, jennie; but i know it is from a sense of right that you speak." "mr. lawson, i appeal to your manhood to help me. i want to save marguerite, and _you_ alone can do it." the girl's manner was vehement. tears glistened in her eyes, and the pathetic nature of the appeal visibly affected phillip lawson. he stood for a moment as if in a study. had the girl in any way found out the plot? could it be possible? what did she mean that he alone could save her? "mr. lawson, i can be a friend when charity demands one; trust me; perhaps i am too bold--but it is my regard for both that forces me. mr. lawson, you love marguerite verne. it is in your power to make her happy, and oh!" cried the girl, seizing the hard, strong hand, "mr. lawson, promise me that you will do it." the young lawyer held the girl's hand tenderly, yea, as that of a dear sister, then raised it to his lips-- "god bless you, jennie," cried he, fervently, "i only wish it was in my power to do so; but marguerite verne is as far above me as the heavens above the earth." "believe me, mr. lawson, you are the only one towards whom my cousin gives a thought." "she treats me always as a friend, and at times more as a brother," said the young man abstractedly. "phillip lawson, keep this secret as you value your soul," cried jennie, clutching the lawyer by the wrist in an excited manner, and lowering her voice to a whisper-- "marguerite loves you as she will never love another. it is sacrilege to watch every movement and steal the secret from every breath she drew, but love prompted me and i did it, and i feel that i am not doing wrong in revealing it." "god grant it, my true-hearted girl--yet i dare not trust myself to think of it. i love marguerite verne as no other man living can, yet she may never know it. she may one day be wedded to another, and live a life as far from mine as it is possible for circumstances to make it. yet her image will always be sacred to my memory, and no other woman will ever hold a place in my heart. the sprig of cedar which one day fell unobserved from her corsage, i shall treasure up as a priceless relic. yes, truly, i live for thee, my peerless marguerite." "if cousin marguerite could only hear those words," thought jennie. "why have the winged winds no mercy? why do they not hurl down the great sounding board which separates these two beings and transmit those valued sounds to the ear, where they shall fall as music from the spheres!" "jennie, as a friend, i ask you to solemnly promise that what has passed between us shall never be unearthed again--let it be buried deep in the grave of lost hopes." "i shall make no such promise, phillip lawson; but i promise that i will never place you in an unworthy position. i will never utter one sentence that will compromise your dignity as a gentleman. will you trust me?" "i will trust you in anything, my noble girl," said phillip in tones of deep reverence. "you know that my uncle verne's interest in you is real--he is your friend," said jennie, trying hard to brighten the path of her friend's existence. "thank god for it," said the lawyer. "indeed i have much to be grateful for. jennie, some day i may tell you more: at present my lips are sealed." "your sense of honor is too high for the nineteenth century, mr. lawson; yet i would not have you otherwise." the girl was mechanically picking to pieces the white petals of bright-eyed marguerites and strewing the ground beside her. "you ruthless vandal! look at your work, miss montgomery," exclaimed a bright romping miss of fifteen, bursting upon them without regard to ceremony and pointing to the ground where lay the scattered petals. "but it is romantic, you know; one always reads of some beautiful maiden picking roses to pieces to hide the state of her feelings." "thank you, miss laura, for your well-timed allusion, for miss montgomery and i have been romancing indeed," said mr. lawson, bowing to the young miss with an air of deferential homage. "it will all come right yet," said jennie, pressing her friend's hand with the tenderness of a sister. the young man smiled sadly, murmuring: "'it will all come out right.' how those words seem to mock me--'it will all come out right.'" chapter xx. scenes at the great metropolis. mrs. montague arnold sat, or rather reclined, in her handsome breakfast-room. she was awaiting the morning mail, which had been somewhat delayed. a bitter smile played around the daintily curved lips. "the saucy little minx; i shall teach her better," murmured the beauty in angry tones and gesture. montague arnold paid no attention to the half-spoken words. he looked the veriest picture of dissipation. late hours, cards, and wine were stamped upon his hitherto handsome face and left an impress at times anything but flattering. in private, few courtesies were interchanged between the husband and wife. it would, indeed, be wrong to say that montague arnold on his marriage morn did not give to his fascinating bride more adulation than he ever bestowed upon any other woman, and had the haughty beauty given more attention to her husband he might have become a different man; had she shown a true heart, a truthful, honest nature, and a mind adorned with what is lofty and elevating, what a different life those two might have led? but evelyn verne was without heart, and we might almost say without soul. she lived for society alone; it was her first duty, and worshipped more zealously than the goddess hestia that occupied the first altar in a grecian home. mrs. arnold was indeed an object of admiration in her superb morning toilet of fawn-colored lyons silk, with faultless draperies and priceless lace. it was the beauty's ruling passion that no toilet was ever neglected; hours were spent in putting the finishing touches to some becoming style that brought out the wearer's charms and set the hearts of her admirers in a flutter. as the soft white hand was raised to suppress a yawn a solitaire diamond caught the ray of sunshine that found its way into the elegant mansion, and reflected a radiance that was enchanting. mr. arnold could not fail to be impressed with the sight. he at last found words to say, "what is your programme today, eve?" "i have promised to visit the studio with mamma and madge. lord melrose is to be there, and i am very anxious to see his portrait." "don't flatter yourself that you are his latest charm, my dear," said her husband in sarcastic tones. "you are altogether _de trop_, my amiable husband," said mrs. arnold with an angry gleam in the brilliant and wondrous dark eyes. "i was sorry to hear that the young and beautiful mrs. maitland has possessed the fellow body and soul. what an honor to the young 'squire to have his wife thus lionized in the london drawing-room." mr. arnold could be tantalizing without mercy, and when he had fully aroused his wife's anger he was happy. mrs. arnold had received much flattering attention from lord melrose, and it wounded her pride when she heard that another had supplanted her. the remarks that had escaped her lips referred to the merciless young matron; and well montague arnold was aware of the fact, but he winced not, and only plunged deeper into the whirlpool of dissipation, which sooner or later would be his inevitable destruction. "i was really tired waiting," exclaimed mrs. arnold, when mrs. verne and marguerite entered the reception room an hour later. "i had begun to think that some prince in disguise had eloped with little sobersides." "i don't think we will be quite so fortunate, eve," said mrs. verne, with a significant look which annoyed marguerite more than she was willing to acknowledge. "really, madge, you are growing prettier every day since you came on english soil. mamma, just look at her color; is it not bewitching? i tell you, madge, you will turn half the heads in piccadilly." marguerite saw with disgust the real object of her mamma's visit, and she was determined to show her dislike in a manner that would save herself from being the object of ridicule. "eve, i wish you to understand that i am not interested in love affairs. please choose your conversation from other sources, and i will be much obliged--indeed i shall be forever grateful." the girl's manner was serious, and her pleading looks would have given pleasure to a sensible woman, but they were scorned by mrs. arnold and her mother. mrs. verne had been expatiating upon the immense fortune which had fallen to hubert tracy, and took the greatest of pains to impress marguerite with a sense of his importance. "how i wish that i had waited, mamma. you know that mr. tracy was devoted to me in every way, but you preferred mr. arnold." "i preferred his riches, my dear, and you know montague is so handsome and distinguished looking. why, he really was the handsomest man in the ball-room last evening." "but hubert's fortune is tenfold that of montague's. his income is immense." "well, all we can do is to consign him to madge," said mrs. arnold, with an affected air of deep regret. "it is certain that he clings to the family, and his great wealth would be an heirloom for many generations." "quite a speech, eve," said mrs. verne, clapping her white palms together by way of applause. crimson silk _portieres_ separated the party from mr. arnold, but not a word had been lost. "you will have to play your little game quick, else the fortune will soon be a thing of the past," muttered the husband under his breath. "curse these women, they are nearly all tarred with the same stick. and my charming wife. what a pity i stand in her way. well, she can go on in _her_ way and i will stick to mine. heavens! is there one true woman?" montague arnold's face, reflected in the mirror opposite, was not then a pleasing study. a sardonic grin was on his lips and a dangerous light in his eyes. just then marguerite changed her seat, and, unobserved, the dissipated man glanced at the pure _spirituelle_ face which had appeared as answer to his questioning words. "yes, madge, i am a veritable scoundrel; already i see before me one true and pure being." was it a tear that glistened on the maiden's cheek as montague arnold once more contemplated the fair brow and madonna-like eyes? marguerite, in her courtly surroundings, was indeed indulging in day dreams, woven from scenes of her native land. and when she contrasted the picture with the vague, undefined reality, her emotional nature was stirred within her, and the gushing tears would force themselves in spite of all efforts at control. she was longing for one glimpse of dear old "gladswood" and the fond embrace of cousin jennie. "what would i not give to be free from this," murmured the girl in an undertone; then glancing around she recognized her brother-in-law, his eyes fixed upon her in close scrutiny. "upon my senses, madge, you look like some one in a dream. i really might imagine you a piece of rare statuary--one of the niobe group strayed from the florentine gallery to meet the wistful gaze of the sight-seers of london!" marguerite smiled, and the color rose to her cheeks. "i have dispelled the charm!" cried montague arnold, pointing to the vivid, life-like and roseate hue of the oval face. "a flirtation, i declare!" said a lady who formed one of the party for the morning's entertainment. "mrs. arnold, i really would not allow it." "but you must remember we have liberty of conscience, my dear. each is free to act as he pleases within the realm of british jurisdiction." "i am afraid you are giving us a wide license, mrs. arnold. please be more circumspect," cried the lady in playful tone, "else your suggestion may have a very bad effect." mr. arnold looked askance at the fashionable woman beside him, and thought what a world of deceit lurked within--a wolf in sheep's clothing. instantly he was at the woman's side, and began paying her those compliments which the most enraptured lover might pay to her whom he adores above all women. at the studio marguerite was introduced to many persons of distinction, among those a german count, a blaze looking captain of the life guards, and a bright, dashing young officer of the dragoons. "what a host of admirers you have already in your train, madge," whispered mrs. arnold to her sister as she came opposite the portrait of lord melrose and stood admiring the exquisite touch and execution of the artist. the latter had been engaged in conversation with a group of ladies when his eyes fell upon marguerite verne. the earnest gaze made the girl look toward him, and as she did so that look made a deep impression upon the youth. "i would give almost all i possess to paint that face," thought he, gazing intently at the _spirituelle_ type of beauty that is so seldom seen. "allow me to introduce my sister, miss verne," said mrs., arnold, who felt much flattered at the admiration paid marguerite. "i think that we must persuade her to sit for a portrait, mr. manning," said mrs. arnold, trying to attract her mother's attention from the niche in which she sat carelessly chatting with some acquaintances they had made on their ocean trip. soon mrs. verne found them, and was in ecstacies over her daughter's proposal. "it would be such a nice way to show madge to advantage. i am delighted with the thought," said mrs. arnold to her mother, as she toyed with her jewelled fan and gazed carelessly around to see if lord melrose were yet in the studio. "how provoking. it is just always so! it will afford such satisfaction to my sweet-tempered husband." "my dear mrs. arnold; it does one good to meet you after trying to live a few days at portsmouth," cried a showy looking military man, perhaps forty years of age, perhaps younger, with a heavy reddish moustache and dark auburn hair. "i cannot really say whether you are complimentary or not, colonel," said mrs. arnold, smiling with all the angelic sweetness at her command, "since i have never had the pleasure of visiting that renowned place." "well, i should consider it the highest compliment that could be paid," said a brother officer in dark blue uniform with a sprinkling of "silver threads among the gold," "coming as it does from one who can stand the siege when a thousand bright eyes are levelled upon him at a garrison ball in portsmouth with a heart as impregnable as the fort at gibraltar!" "thank you, major greene, for your kind consideration to both parties," said mrs. arnold, bowing sweetly to the former. the gallant colonel also bowed acknowledgment, and then espied marguerite verne, who still lingered near the artist, considering him far above the shallow set that frequented his studio. "who is that beautiful girl talking to mr. manning?" queried he, raising his eyeglass with an air of interest. "i shall present you in due time," said mrs. arnold, with a faint smile revealing the most exquisite set of teeth that eye ever beheld. as if by intuition marguerite cast her eyes towards the aspirants and the action brought a faint blush. "beautiful as hebe, by jove," exclaimed the rubicund major, in an undertone that implied he was also deeply interested in the fair young face and graceful supple form. how the manoeuvering mamma watched each sign of admiration thus directed towards her daughter. "if i can only accomplish my wishes my life will be one uninterrupted calm. i will then lay me down in peace," thought mrs. verne, as she re-arranged the folds of her silken train to her entire satisfaction. hubert tracy had been detained on a fishing excursion up the cam, whither he had gone with some rollicking companions to recruit his health and restore some of the youthful bloom that dissipation had almost destroyed. marguerite could ill conceal her disgust as she met the weak-minded and, to her, contemptible young man, on the week following. it was at a brilliant assemblage, under the patronage of mrs. montague arnold. never was maiden more becomingly attired, for despite her friends' entreaties, marguerite's taste was simplicity, indeed. her modest pearl-colored satin was relieved by knots of delicate pansies--one of marguerite's many favorite flowers--and the delicate and chaste silver ornaments, made her toilet simply bewitching. "mrs. arnold is imperial, but miss verne is truly angelic," was the exclamation of a man of fashion, and the leader of his club, as the two sisters stood side by side receiving the brilliant throng of guests that filled to overflowing the gorgeously lighted parlors, sumptuous drawing-room and bewitching conservatories. why was it that marguerite shrank from the touch of hubert tracy's hand as if stung by an adder? why was it that, when she was obliged to listen to his flattering, oily tongue, that she saw the manly dignified form of phillip lawson standing between, with his hand uplifted, as if in gesture of warning, and a stern reproachful look upon his honest face? these are questions that will be answered some day when the world is older and wiser--when the great road to science will have been trodden further on towards the goal which shall reveal all mysteries in the light of simple truths--when man can look a fellow being in the face and trace each thought written there. mrs. arnold was in the confidence of her husband's friends, and she had partly deceived her mother to carry out her designs. mrs. verne had hitherto set her heart upon hubert tracy, but she was now flattered by the admiration paid to marguerite by several of the nobility, and she thought it would indeed be a rare distinction for her daughter to have a title. "i see how it is with mamma, and if i am not sharp she will nonplus me," thought the beauty, as she watched the game which her anxious mother was playing so skilfully, and, as the latter thought, so successfully. "but i will do nothing rash. nothing succeeds like caution," and musing thus mrs. arnold placed her jewelled fingers in those of her partner and was whirled away to revel in the delightful elysium of waltzland. chapter xxi. mrs. arnold confides in hubert tracy. mrs. arnold's beauty was commented upon by the fashionable throng with whom she daily mingled. she was sought after and courted by her many admirers; yet among them all there was none who thought her the most charming of her set. the wily beauty had adopted a line of policy that was not the most discreet. she showed a spiteful spirit towards any of her sex who laid claim to personal charms, and often said many bitter things in a way that was neither dignified nor ladylike. it was in such a spirit that mrs. arnold returned from a grand ball where she had seen lord melrose pay marked attention to the pretty mrs. maitland. with anger in her bosom she strode the elegant boudoir with measured beat and vowed vengeance upon her more fortunate rival. "why does any one envy me the charms i possess? "ah, me!" she cried, looking at herself in the mirror with her hands poised in the attitude of a caryatid. "it is all i have. happiness i shall never know; but one thing i do know--that i will laugh, dance and sing and have a merry life while i am young, and then when my charms have fled to a younger form i will bury myself in some remote convent and try to make atonement for my gay and worldly life." it were strange, indeed, that mrs. arnold had this sense of wrong. she did, indeed, realize that her actions were not what any sensible woman would justify, yet she took refuge in the thought that when she grew old there was time enough for discretion. another trait of her disposition: it grieved her to see others happy. like the arch fiend who turned aside with envy when he beheld the happy pair in the garden of eden and from that hour plotted their ruin, so mrs. arnold from, sheer envy was determined that the innocent and pure-minded marguerite should be associated with the coarse side of humanity--in short, that she should become familiar with the fashionable miseries of a fashionable woman. but mrs. arnold reckoned without her host. she met with more opposition than she expected, and the lesson she yet had to learn cost her a bitter experience! mrs. verne's vascillating nature was a source of much annoyance to her first-born. "it is so provoking," murmured mrs. arnold, as she noted the infatuation her mother possessed for a certain baronet of a distinguished yorkshire family. "i've set my mind upon hubert, and mamma must yield. as for madge, she is out of the matter entirely." as if in answer to her thoughts the young man was soon at her side looking quite interesting. "you naughty boy; i am inclined to be angry with you--not one dance have you sought." "from the very fact that i cannot have one. ah, mrs. arnold, you well know how to amuse yourself at the expense of us poor unfortunates," said mr. tracy, glancing at the tablet already filled for every dance. "i have a mind to cancel this," said he, pointing to that of the yorkshire baronet. "no, indeed, mr. tracy; that would be pleasure at too great a sacrifice. i have a motive for entertaining the baronet." mrs. arnold smiled one of her peculiarly attractive smiles, significant of the part she was to enact. she whispered a few well-directed, words into the young man's ear, and taking his arm led him to the conservatory. "i can only stay a couple of minutes at the least, so i wish you to be all attention." hubert tracy seated himself beside mrs. arnold and listened to her dear confiding tones. "mr. tracy, i despise that yorkshire bore, with his coarse english and stupid manners. and his effrontery in presuming to play the suitor to madge. it is all your own fault. you follow at a distance and have not the courage to claim your rights--" "rights!" "yes; i say rights, mr. tracy. i say that you have a right to claim madge, because we always looked upon you as her future husband. the girl knows not her own mind, but she will never go against mamma's wishes, and i know that she cares for you, though she will not own it." "if i thought so i would be happy, for if any woman will ever reclaim me it will be marguerite verne." "such talk, mr. tracy; i'm sure you are no worse than the general run of men. pray don't talk of reclaiming; that sounds as if you had committed something dreadful." just then there arose before hubert tracy's vision the sad picture of a brave young man, struggling so hard to prove his innocence when circumstances are all against him. he sees the reproachful gaze of the sorrowful eyes, and he stops his ears to keep back the sound of the reproachful tones that force themselves upon him. but mrs. arnold knows it not. "we will dispense with the word if it displeases you, mrs. arnold. i will do anything that you wish, even if it be impossible for you to be in a dearer relation than at present." "hubert tracy, if you succeed not, remember it is through no fault of mine. just listen to me." the young man listened, and in a few short words mrs. arnold made known her plans. "we will succeed or i am not what i think myself," said mrs. arnold, readjusting the spray of heliotrope that was displaced in her corsage. "adieu for the present, dear hubert," said the latter, on seeing lord melrose advancing to claim her for the next waltz. "ah, my fear truant, you have given me a world of anxiety. why do you persist in such delightful methods of torture." "_torture!_ lord melrose!" exclaimed the lady with an air of arch coquetry. meanwhile marguerite verne sat in the quiet of her own apartment. she had retired from the heated ball-room at an earlier hour than many of the guests. a wearied look rested upon the girl's face. she was heartily worn out with the excessive fatigue attending fashionable life. "well, it seems that i am fated for a martyr, and i must calmly submit," said she, loosening the luxuriant mass of silken hair that had been arranged to suit the most fastidious taste of mrs. arnold. donning a loose wrapper, and exchanging the pretty white satin slippers for a pair of soft morocco ones. marguerite threw herself into a large and inviting arm-chair. "i will not allow myself to think. my thoughts are rebellious," and immediately a pretty little pocket testament found its way into the girl's hand. a few words escaped marguerite's lips as if an invocation was asked; then she read aloud the thirteenth chapter of corinthians: "though i speak with the tongue of men and angels," etc. the sweet voice of the reader was not heard in vain. marguerite closed the book and remained motionless for some moments, when she fancied that there was a noise as if some one were listening at the door. "i am so foolish. my nerves are unstrung from keeping late hours," murmured she. then hastily glancing towards the spot whence the sound proceeded marguerite knelt down and prayed that an all-merciful providence would keep her from the temptations of fashionable society. "god help me, i'm lost. i dare not approach that angel in disguise, else i would ask her what is meant by that charity." these words were muttered by montague arnold, who having been unable to attend his wife to the ball, had now returned in a state of intoxication. had marguerite listened she might have heard the words repeated; but she had dropped off into a quiet slumber and lay unconscious of the semi-brutal state of her dissipated brother-in-law. the next morning brought invitations for private theatricals at the house of a distinguished foreign embassy. the spacious mansion in st. james' court received the grandees of every land. it was a high honor to enter "rosemere place." mrs. verne was almost beside herself (to use a vulgarism). she walked on air, as it were, and could talk of nothing else but the elegance and grandeur in prospect. "i have accepted mr. tracy as escort, mamma," said mrs. arnold, entering her drawing room with an elegant dress that had just arrived from the _modiste_. "now, evelyn, have you not been a little premature? would it not have been better to wait, for i think that sir arthur would in all probability have called to offer his service to madge." "sir arthur is a horrid bore, mamma--he is intolerable. i cannot see why you encourage him. i'm sure his estates are heavily mortgaged. i don't believe he can afford to pay for the kid gloves that he nourishes on his big brawny hands!" "some malicious person has been endeavoring to misrepresent sir arthur. i wish you would not listen to such stuff. i am certain that he is immensely wealthy, and then think of his family!" mrs. verne did not wish to quarrel with her daughter; yet it seemed that a quarrel was brewing. "you think it so important to secure a title for madge that you would have her struggle amid shabby genteel surroundings in order to introduce her as lady forrester!" "shame, evelyn! you forget that i am your mother," said mrs. verne, raising her hand with haughty gesture and looking the embodiment of injured innocence. "forgive me, mamma, i did not mean to anger you," said mrs. arnold with an air of deep contrition. this act was the latter's only safeguard. she knew well the key to her mother's character, and was determined to take advantage of every point. "you know, mamma that we must look to dear papa's interest as well. his business is in a precarious state. i heard montague say that it is tottering, and hubert's great riches will be at madge's disposal." mrs. verne could not but admire the thoughtful argument of her daughter. "true enough, child; but if mr. tracy hears of the circumstance he will soon throw us over, my dear," said mrs. verne with something like agitation in her voice. "nothing of the kind, dear mamma," said mrs. arnold, placing her hand caressingly upon her mother's shoulder "it is thus that i have proved the true worth of mr. tracy's character--he not only spoke of the matter but intimated in a delicate manner that now he could sue more boldly for madge's hand--be in a position to place dear papa on a surer footing than, he ever was." "it is indeed a great blessing to know that we have such true friends," said mrs. verne in a tone that showed her heart was not with the subject. poor mrs. verne! she had, since her arrival in england, changed her views as regards a son-in-law. her heart was set on the baronet and she wished that the merciless evelyn would have expatiated on his riches instead of those of former friends. "i can never have what i want," sighed the anxious mother as she sought her boudoir to write a letter in answer to the one which lay upon the indian cabinet opposite. "what on earth brings about these insolvencies is more than i can account for. one thing certain i can wash _my_ hands of it. it is not _our_ extravagance that will cause it." mrs. verne glanced at the surroundings hoping to see much simplicity, but the elegance of the magnificent suite of apartments were sadly at variance with her speech. "and to think of evelyn's opposition. she is settled and should mind her own affairs, and judging from what i can see, she will have enough to do to keep her head up. montague arnold is no better than he ought to be. well, well! i suppose his money will hold out and that is all that is required--oh dear, if sir arthur had hubert tracy's money." the letter being finished a servant was despatched with the budget of mail, and mrs. verne took up a pretty design, of kensington work that she was fashioning for a table scarf. "i don't feel like anything to-day," murmured the woman, throwing the work aside and yawning several times. "madge, i'm glad you have come. where is that novel i saw you reading yesterday?" "rossmoyne, do you mean, mamma?" "yes, i glanced over it and think it is fascinating, and i stand sorely in need of just such a work to-day." marguerite knew from her mother's fretted looks that she had been somewhat annoyed, and judging that evelyn had something to do in the matter, said nothing, but quietly withdrew to her own apartments. although mrs. verne and her daughter spent much of their time in mrs. arnold's elegant suite of rooms, they occupied an exclusive suite of apartments in an aristocratic square not far distant. marguerite had been amusing herself in reading over some extracts from her pocket diary when a pretty young page entered with an exquisite bouquet of rare exotics. "how lovely," was the simple remark, as the girl took them in her hand and held them out to view, while the fragrance exhaled was almost overwhelming. a tiny note, peeped out between a cluster of heliotrope and blush roses. "it is provoking," thought the maiden, as she drew forth the perfumed billet-doux and read what might be considered a declaration of love. sir arthur forrester was not a dissipated man, nor was he a disagreeable man, yet he was not what a girl of marguerite verne's nature would desire for a husband. "this is just what mamma has been angling for," thought marguerite as she tore up the note into tiny shreds and showed more spirit than her sister eve would have given her credit for. "i thought as much dear madge," said mrs. verne, who on entering beheld the bouquet, "and to think that evelyn should accept mr. tracy as escort when we could have sir arthur. it is, indeed, provoking beyond endurance. madge you are to be congratulated upon such good luck; scores of girls would envy you the proud position as lady forrester, and for once i hope my child will consider well before she lets such an offer meet with refusal." marguerite sat as if in a state of utter abstraction. she was too much confused to reply. "honor thy father and mother" had been an important part of her religion. must she now say words of dire rebellion--the thought cost a bitter pang. the tears rose to her eyes and her lips were pallid and tremulous. "mamma i cannot think you would ask me to encourage sir arthur feeling as i do at present. i respect him but nothing more, please do not mention the subject again. i do not wish to leave you and i know papa wishes me to remain always with him and make his home what it ought to be." the last remark was too much for mrs. verne's temper. "marguerite, lately i had begun to think that you had more sound sense than your fortunate sister but i am doomed to bitter disappointment. one need expect nothing but ingratitude from children--especially mine. hear me, madge: if you refuse sir arthur you will live to repent of it--remember my words!" and gathering up her trailing robes mrs. verne turned angrily away leaving marguerite to her own sad thoughts. chapter xxii. an insight into mr. verne's affairs. summer had passed into autumn--all nature was arrayed in robes of gorgeous dye. the foliage of sunnybank was brilliant and the leafy shrubberies had not yet begun to show signs of decay. mr. verne sat in the library and beside him sat a welcome guest. mrs. montgomery made several excuses for her untimely interruption and mr. verne received them with the best of grace--he well knew what had prompted the visit--the good kind and generous heart. as the matronly appearance of the new comer awakened a spirit of interest in the affairs of sunnybank so it aroused the quiet unobtrusive master. mr. verne thanked god from the bottom of his heart that he could sit in his office and hear the voice of a true friend in kindly counsel with the domestics. "ah! if matilda were only like her, how different our lives might have been," murmured the wearied man of business, then heaving a deep sigh glanced over the latest exchange sheets, trying to find relief from the depressing thoughts that were crowding hastily through his overworked brain. "sooner or later it must come and god knows it is through no discrepancies on my part. poor little madge; she is a good child. if she were only settled i would feel more relief; but she is to be bartered for pelf, poor child. i will stand by her to the last." voices in the parlor now claimed mr. verne's attention. "strange too, at the very moment," murmured the latter as he closed the folios and then ran his fingers through his hair as if to prepare for some pleasing reception. a cheery voice exclaimed "business kept me away sir, but i could stand it no longer," and shaking his host's hand with more than hearty grasp phillip lawson soon found himself at home in sunnybank's elegant parlor. the young lawyer could not fail to note the careworn look upon mr. verne's passive countenance, nor did he fail to note the cause, while a strange yearning feeling went straight to the warm heart. "if it were only in my power to help him," murmured phillip in inarticulate tones as he took up a newspaper that lay on the small table near. it was a late english paper and bore the address of mr. verne in a neat graceful hand. "we have just heard from marguerite," said mr. verne, attempting to be very cheerful. "i hope all are well, sir?" ventured mr. lawson timidly. "yes, they are in good health, but i fear that marguerite is wearied of life in gay cities. mr. lawson, you cannot imagine how much i miss her. it seems as if part of my life is gone from me." mr. verne's voice was husky and unsteady and his eyes had a far off wistful look that struck a vibrative chord in phillip lawson's breast. "i might as well make a clean breast of it at once," thought the latter, "no good comes of carrying a pent up sorrow to one's grave without trying to seek sympathy from a fellow being--and to none would i go more willingly than her father." a slight pause ensued and mr. lawson spoke. "it is pleasant for miss verne to see the mother country and form comparisons for herself and no doubt she will be the better for having had a change of climate." "yes, that was why i did not oppose her going away. i knew that her constitution was delicate, but again, that fact made it the harder for me to associate marguerite with late hours and all the inconveniences of fashionable life. i tell you what it is mr. lawson i am no advocate of fast living and i thank god that my daughter is only playing a part in which her heart has no interest." "miss verne has a mind far above such things," said mr. lawson with some warmth. mrs. montgomery had adroitly slipped out unobserved and was busying herself over some mending which was needed. she could hear the hum of the voices and could almost distinguish the words being said. "if stephen verne is not a downright fool he will straighten matters up yet," thought the woman as she put away the work-basket and began to plan work for the following day. conversation still went on briskly and mr. verne seemed himself once more. his burden felt light in the presence of the young lawyer and from the depths of his soul he longed for a closer intimacy--that bond of true sympathy which cements hearts forever. phillip lawson partly realized the fact: the barriers of conventionalism were fearlessly torn down as he took courage to speak out. "mr. verne you do not surely think that a man of sense can be blind to the inestimable and rare qualities which he sees in miss verne's character. if we had more woman like her what a different world it would be!" "god bless you, my boy," said mr. verne fervently. "amen," responded a voice from another apartment but unheard in the parlor. what invisible, subtle power prevented the young man from falling on his knees and confessing his love for the pure marguerite? what invisible presence laid a pressure upon phillip lawson's lips and sealed them fast? what invisible force turned the conversation into another and entirely different source, yet did not weaken the bond already established. mr. verne communicated many proofs of his entire confidence and the thought gave to his young friend more courage. "it is indeed a trying season sir, but i trust you will keep abreast of the times. many of our establishments are said to be in a shaky condition." "if they give me time i am all right, if not i am gone." phillip lawson was a poor man. what right had he to offer consolation? he said nothing, but inwardly prayed that the storm might pass over and all would be brighter than the may morn. "i challenge you to a game of dominoes, gentlemen," cried mrs. montgomery who now felt that her presence was necessary. "we are only too happy mrs. montgomery," said phillip rising from his seat and placing a chair for her. mr. verne also being seated the time honored game of muggins was soon in active operation and, as is often the cape, the lady being the best player was sadly worsted but submitted with a grace that was amusing. "come in often, mr. lawson; i am going to remain for three or four weeks and we need all the companionship we can muster," said the lively and unceremonious matron as she bade good-night to the former with an air of interest in every look and gesture--a something which seemed to say "depend on me." nor was the warm pressure of mr. verne's hand lost upon the susceptible nature of phillip lawson. "if i had hubert tracy's riches what an amount of good i could accomplish; but what's the use." and for once the christian spirit of the young man underwent sore temptation. he was wondering why it was that prodigals and spendthrifts, with no special ability but that of wasting other people's earnings, should have means inexhaustible while other poor fellows with fair ability should have to toil all their days for the means of subsistence and never have the wherewith to relieve their suffering fellow mortals or follow the yearnings of their impassionate hearts! mrs. montgomery stood on the terrace and watched the receding figure of phillip lawson until he had crossed queen square and turned charlotte street. she then returned to the parlor, and finding mr. verne sitting as if in deep study, was about to retire when he quietly motioned her to a seat. "sit down here. our young friend has gone, and it seems as if he took all the sunshine with him, for i feel more prosy than ever." "you need not try to hide your feelings from me, stephen; it is of no use. i am here to help you all i can, and much as it will cost you i must hear your trouble. heaven knows i would gladly do all that lies within my power." mrs. montgomery's bustling and blustering nature had now become calm and gentle as a child as she sat beside her brother-in-law and poured into his ear such words of sympathy and encouragement as she could honestly give. "we will not blame her altogether," said mr. verne. "she was young and fond of gaiety, and i thought that in course of time our natures should blend together, but sad to say, with coming years the breach widened. she went into society and i took refuge in seclusion." "stephen, you need not try to smooth matters!" exclaimed mrs. montgomery, allowing her temper to get aroused. "she is all to blame. matilda is a fool, and i would tell her so if she stood face to face with me to-night!" mr. verne did not raise his eyes, for he did not wish his companion to see the look of desperation settled there. "and to think of the manner in which poor marguerite is dragged over the continent for the sake of hunting up a grand match is something beyond endurance." "it is all too true, hester," moaned the grief-stricken husband. "it is all too true." "and i would oppose it to the bitter end, stephen. yes, i would face poverty a thousand times rather than see a child of mine subjected to such indignity. i have watched matilda's high-handed work with keen interest, i have noted everything, and if she thinks she has hoodwinked me i pity her delusion." "the truth is i have been too much immersed in business to attend to much else, hester, but at times i have not liked the manner in which things were going on. i never gave consent to evelyn's marriage, i could not sanction it, but the girl seemed bent upon it, and i made no opposition in the matter." "montague arnold is a dissipated man and immoral in every sense of the word, but that matters not in good society." mrs. montgomery's face was indeed severe as she took from her pocket a piece of knitting and began making stitches rapidly. "it is one of the many enigmas of fashionable society which i can never account for: why the most worthless, debauched and dissipated young men are fawned upon, lionized and courted by the most respectable mothers and matrons, and allowed the full liberty of their ball-rooms, drawing-rooms, salons, &c., claiming the most virtuous maidens for their amusement and pastime! and further, an honest-minded young man, who leads a strictly moral life, and labors hard to gain a reputation for himself, is cast aside or scorned as a mere nobody!" "it is too true, hester, i can fully endorse what you say. i have indeed turned away in disgust from fashionable resorts when i have seen young men of the most vicious habits contaminating the very air with their dissoluteness, flirting and dancing with the pure-minded girls who would have shrunk away in loathing could they hare seen the same young men at a later hour in dens of iniquity." mr. verne was excited; he thought of his lovely marguerite, and a pang shot through his heart, causing his face and lips to become ashy white. "it is a disagreeable subject to broach, but i cannot help it, stephen--i mean hubert tracy," said mrs. montgomery, in suppressed and measured tones. "you are not blind, stephen, to the fact that matilda and evelyn are conspiring to find a son-in-law for you, and that one is mr. tracy?" "god forbid!" said mr. verne, springing to his feet as if stung by an adder. "as true as my name is what it is, stephen, you will see it--that is--if you do not try to prevent it." "my marguerite will never sacrifice herself in that way," said mr. verne, vehemently--"never!" "she will be talked into it. marguerite will do anything rather than incur her mother's ill-will; for depend upon it, matilda will lead her a sorry life if she shows opposition to her will." "i have been too careless, hester. it is yet time enough, thank god! when marguerite is once more safe in my sheltering arms she will neer be subjected to the importunities of disagreeable suitors." "evelyn has too much diplomacy in her character. marguerite cannot cope with her ingenious allurements, depend upon it, but i hope everything may turn out for the best yet," said mrs. montgomery, with a wistful look upon her countenance. "hester, i have much to think of. sometimes my thoughts are almost insupportable, i almost sink--i believe i would if it were not for marguerite. she is my ministering angel--and i miss her so much." it was only on this evening that mr. verne had become communicative. he was always looked upon as a cold, reticent man, who had no sympathy with humanity in general; but there were those who could say "god bless you, mr. verne," from the bottom of their hearts. who will presume to say that those grateful invocations were lost upon the winds--that they were not wafted to the throne of mercy, and received the plaudits of the king of kings? "i have long been thinking of having a talk with you, stephen, and i feel now is the time," said mrs. montgomery, in confidential tone, yet betraying some hesitation. "we all know stephen, that your family is living beyond your means, and that you are robbing yourself of health, strength and peace of mind to keep up an extravagant appearance. i ask you if that is right?" "hester, it is this that is killing me by inches, yet i cannot prevent it. what can i do? i cannot breast the current that is carrying along everything with it in maddening fury. one day i must make the plunge!" mr. verne buried his face in his hands and wept like a child, while mrs. montgomery sat motionless, her eyes fixed upon the quaintly carved case of the eight day clock, whose solemn tick made the stillness more oppressive. mrs. montgomery was the first to speak. "stephen, it is not too late to straighten up matters. take my advice, and if you are not more prosperous a year hence i will give you the deed of 'gladswood.'--a present on your next birthday." mr. verne forced a smile, and grasping the woman's hand, exclaimed, "hester, you are, indeed, a friend in the hour of need. i feel stronger already." "it is growing late, stephen, and you need rest; we will talk over the matter to-morrow," and bidding good-night, mrs. montgomery arose and retired to her own apartments, while mr. verne sat buried in thought until the clock struck the hour of midnight; then slowly he arose, and, with languid step, turned a sad face towards the door, musing, "it is all sent for some good. teach me, oh god, to see things as i ought." chapter xxiii. mrs. montgomery's ideas of society, etc. next morning mr. verne was astir at a very early hour. the rest of the household apparently wrapped in deep slumber, while the wearied man of business sat at his desk, his features fixed and immovable as the bronze productions of the inimitable lysippus who had won the favor of the great alexander. scratch! scratch! scratch! went the pen over the lines with inconceivable rapidity, the writer occasionally glancing over his left arm at the document he was copying. the tortoise-shell cat sat at her master's feet with an air of self-importance and a look which seemed to say, "woe be to him who dare to drive me hence." but there was another within the walls of sunnybank who was also awake--mrs. montgomery. she leaned on the side of her couch and listened to the faint sound that at intervals came from the office: "well, well; what will be the end god alone knows! matilda verne, you will one day see the fruits of your folly and taste them in all their bitterness!" "i must divert him from such work. it is killing the man by inches; surely there is some way out of the difficulty--where there's a will there's a way.'" mrs. montgomery said the last words with a will--aye, with the spirit of a leonidas, and hastily arranging her toilet descended to the silent, deserted parlors. she evinced no surprise when confronted by mr. verne. she had been calmly awaiting his presence. "it is too early for you to be astir, hester. i would think you might take things easy when you could. i'm sure there's nothing to get you up here--no milking and farm work as at 'gladswood.'" "it's second nature with me and i can't help it any more than you can help getting up with the sun and poring over those tedious papers; stephen, i would think you ought to get sick of such work." "so i do, hester, but i must not let myself feel so; there may be an end far too soon." "stephen you are getting a monomaniac on these things. i tell you what it is if william montgomery were in your shoes he would not last a week. thank god, he is a farmer--there's no life like it." "true, indeed, hester; i wish i had become a sturdy yeoman before i gave myself up to this business. ah! it's nothing but uncertainty." "listen to me stephen; the quiet of the hour prompts me to say something which i have been thinking of for some time past--it is of mr. lawson." "yes," said mr. verne, in a manner that seemed to say that he knew what was coming, "he is a worthy young man!" "worthy, did you say, stephen? there is no words in the english language sufficient to speak his praise. he is a man such as the creator premeditated before the world rose out of chaos--a man in the true image of his maker!" could phillip lawson then have looked upon this woman as she sat there and spoke such holy thoughts--how simple and yet how eloquent--could he then have heard the tenderhearted matron plead for him what a flood of gratitude would have welled out from his honest heart! "i have invited phillip lawson to 'gladswood' purposely to study him through and through, and each time i find something nobler in him to admire." "i believe it," said mr. verne, gravely. "then pledge yourself with me to bestow upon him all that can give him the only earthly happiness he desires. stephen, you are not blind--you know he loves your child--make the way brighter for him-- give him your confidence, your encouragement, and before a twelvemonth has passed away you will be happier, madge will be happier, and phillip lawson will bless you while he lives!" mr. verne turned uneasily in his chair. he felt somewhat guilty of not seeking the young man's confidence the previous evening when he made allusion to marguerite. "stephen, i'm no fool; i can sometimes see more than some people would like me to see--but i care little for people's opinions," said mrs. montgomery in a defiant mood, "i am here to say what i think is right--i care for nobody." "i know that the young man admires madge, but we have proof of nothing further." "you surely cannot say _that_, stephen, and note the interest which mr. lawson takes in your affairs. ah, we women can see you men through and through--you don't mean what you say." it did not take much persuasion to gain mr. verne as an ally to the cause so dear to the woman's heart. now what suggestions mrs. montgomery made to her brother-in-law and his acquiescence, the whole-hearted management and cleverness, also delicacy of plans, we do not care to reveal, suffice to say, that the plans were matured and put into execution from that hour, and that there were those who lived to thank mrs. montgomery with all the fervor of their hearts. mr. verne was indeed happier from the light-hearted manner in which mrs. montgomery strove to entertain him and relieve the monotony of his busy life. "sunnybank" had been closed from society for several months. no guests desecrated the stillness of the deserted drawing-room, and save the occasional calls of a few business men, "all around was quietness." "i will make a change," said mrs. montgomery, and a change was made. phillip lawson found time to drop in two or three evenings of the week, and when the gentlemen were engaged over their game of chess, there would suddenly steal upon their senses a fragrance that portended hot delicious coffee, not to speak of the choice rolls and delicate cheesecake. mr. lawson was truly at home in mrs. montgomery's society. he admired her independent spirit and correct judgment as to what should constitute society in its wholesome state; he listened with eagerness to her exposition of the shame and rottenness of good form and the consequent evils arising from them. one evening they were enjoying the refreshing breeze that stirred the leafy shrubberies at "sunnybank." coolness reigned everywhere, within and without. the halls were redolent with heliotrope, and breath of roses, the hour was inviting and the conversation was spirited. mrs. montgomery, clad in her silken gown, was indeed fitted to pass close criticism. she was sensible looking, neat and respectable, and her genial warmth of manner formed no secondary consideration. "it is disgraceful to society to tolerate it," said mrs. montgomery. "i should like to see a girl of mine receive attention from such a man, and to think of his going to mrs. m.'s company utterly incapable. had i been there i would have insulted him before the company." "it is just as well that you were not," said mr. verne, smiling. "we country people are verdant, stephen, but thank heaven we escape your _good-form_ style that is ruinous both to body and soul," said mrs. montgomery with considerable vehemence. "our young women are educated to a sense of their position, and to demand that respect which they ought. ugh! just for one moment imagine a young man of loose immoral habits seated in _our_ parlor. why the very thought of it makes one sicken with disgust." "hester, if we had a few such women as you there would be a sweeping moral reform throughout our land," said mr. verne, vehemently. "yes, we would have such a wholesome state of things as would entail a world of happiness to succeeding generations." "i tell you one thing, stephen, there would be no living beyond one's means; neither this abominable keeping up of appearances, which has possessed two-thirds of our people, and which is the cause of nearly all the misery and degradation that we hear of every day of our lives--and those mothers and daughters will be held responsible for the souls of the suicides who were goaded to the rash deed by their doings! yes, stephen, i say it, and hold to it, that it is our women who are at the root and bottom of these horrible misdeeds." "it is true in a great measure, hester," said mr. verne, his face betraying evident emotion--his voice strange and his manner altogether changed. mrs. montgomery's words had a powerful effect. they took deeper root than she intended and the woman felt a strange misgiving at her heart. "what if he might seek refuge in such," thought she, and a feeling of revulsion passed through her which was in nowise comforting. mr. verne seemed to anticipate her thoughts. "it is an unpleasant subject, and can do little good for either," said he, trying to force a smile. "yes, stephen; i can bear your reproof, for i am too hot-headed. i need a strong pull in the opposite direction to set me right." the sound of domestics astir suggested employment, and mrs. montgomery set forth to superintend affairs with more concern than the real mistress. in fact, there had been a sad want of attention to matters in general. there was an apparent lack of system and good management that only such an one as mrs. montgomery could set right. "i want you to do it this way," was her order, and it was done. an untidy chambermaid had been dismissed, and the cook was given her choice to retrench in the enormous waste or find a new field for such extravagance. it was indeed surprising what a change had been wrought during mrs. montgomery's first week at "sunnybank." "and to think of her coming from such charitable motives. the woman is a host in herself." such was mr. verne's comment as he began to see how affairs were managed on the reconstruction plan, when even the parlor seemed to admit the beneficial change. "i shall have to attend a meeting of the board of trade this evening; and thinking it would be dull here, i asked mr. lawson to come in and bring lottie. you know the poor child idolizes him, and it is a shame to keep him from her." "how kind of you, stephen. i shall be delighted to see lottie; she is a sweet child. it really does me good to see the young man pet his little charge and minister to her wants with the delicacy of a woman. i tell you there are few men that will compare with phillip lawson." mrs. montgomery was determined that she would let no opportunity escape when she could say a word in her friend's praise. "they will thank me one day for it," said she to herself, as she turned leisurely towards a pot of heliotrope and stood inhaling the sweet fragrance. "the board of trade to-night. no rest for the overwrought brain! what a pity that our women, instead of decking themselves out for hours before a life-sized mirror, and when arrayed like peacocks amble into drawing-rooms or conservatories to listen for so many hours to the idiotic, half-formed expressions of the semi-monkeys who answer to the fashionable appellation of dudes, should not give themselves some fit employment. oh, dear me! thank heaven i'm not a society woman, and still better, that none of my family can lay claim to the title." as mrs. montgomery made the last part of her remark, she thought of her first-born, the sweet, but bright-spirited jennie, who was always ready for fun and amusement and never was happier than when administering to the wants of her fellow creatures. jennie montgomery was also a maiden of sound intellectual ability. her fund of reading was extensive. she never allowed a day to pass without devoting two hours to good solid reading. pope was a constant friend, as was also wordsworth, and few could give a better exposition of the mental depth of this metaphysical poet, his self-knowledge and his keen realization of the depth of such knowledge. but of the expected guests. it was indeed a red-letter day for lottie lawson when phillip announced his intention of taking her to "sunnybank." "oh! phillip," cried she in ecstasies of delight, her saucy curls dancing around the pretty head, "and i shall see mrs. montgomery; was there ever such a lucky girl as i?" and the bright eyes danced with joy and eagerness. "goodness gracious! it's almost too good news to be true. phillip, what shall i wear? dear me, if i had only known i would have made kitty do up my white lawn." the little maiden's countenance had suddenly changed from great joy to dismay, and the indulgent brother was much amused. "i don't think it will make much difference to mrs. montgomery, so long as your dress is neat," said he smiling, then added, "i hope my little sister has not commenced to be vain already. it is too soon, my dear." "indeed i am not quarter as bad as the other girls," replied the little miss. "i wish you could see how they dress for school; why nellie bliss wears a different dress every afternoon, and to-day she had one with the greatest lot of lace ruffles." "well, well, my dear, let nellie enjoy her ruffles, and lottie lawson be a sensible little girl." as the brother fondled the fairy-like child, he thought of the inherent weakness that showed itself thus and exclaimed as the little form was beyond hearing, "the ruling passion truly," he paused, then added, "with most women." to say that lottie lawson enjoyed herself at "sunnybank" would be speaking too mildly. even the dogs gave her welcome, romping, playing and frisking till warned to restrain their unwonted hilarity. an oil painting of marguerite verne made the child clap her hands with delight. "oh, it is just like her! it seems as if miss verne were speaking to us," cried she, getting as near to the portrait as she possibly could. "i can imagine myself in sunday-school now and our dear teacher among us. when do you expect her, mrs. montgomery?" the bright eyes had a wistful look and gave the piquant face a thoughtful tone. "i cannot say, my dear, but we hope we may expect her soon." the eager eyes favored the portrait with occasional glances while the white fingers ran over the keys of the piano. a pleasant evening was thus spent and lottie was delighted when it was arranged that she would be allowed to pass many such pleasant hours during mrs. montgomery's stay at "sunnybank." "how thoughtful," was mr. verne's comment as he heard the voices in the parlor on his return. phillip lawson with a pang at his heart could not but notice the wearied look upon mr. verne's face, also the stooping form which once had been erect and majestic, and his sympathetic look could not escape the eagle eye of mrs. montgomery. "business is business, my boy," said mr. verne as he bade his guests good-night. "yes sir, it is all business these hard times. business is business," and musing thus phillip lawson went on his way, so busied in thought that he scarce heeded the prattle of the child at his side. chapter xxiv. a combination of events. four weeks had passed away and mrs. montgomery still presided at "sunnybank." the days were spent in a variety of ways that tended to one grand end and that for the best. lottie lawson was blithe as a bee, humming little snatches of song and often cheering the rooms by her presence. an important functionary among the domestics was melindy jane thrasher, the happy _fiancee_ of mr. moses spriggins. melindy jane took much pride in informing her fellow-laborers that "she had been engaged to work with the verneses all through the montgomeryses, for she had seen the first miss verne along with her intended up to the upper neighborhood at church, and she and a hull lot of the young folks came out from mill crossin' to go, and when they seed the grand folks, they'd inquired and found out all about him. then, what do you think? dad saw an advertisement in the paper, and he rit right away and got this situation; and here i am ever since, and s'pose will be for a _leetle longer_" and with a knowing look melindy jane would draw her hearers' attention to mr. spriggins, and by a series of phases expatiate on her lover's manly form and weighty principles, not forgetting his importance among the good folks of mill crossing. marguerite verne had often listened to these speeches, and stimulated melindy jane's eloquence by her earnest attention, and for such kindness she was eulogized in the presence of mr. spriggins, until the latter vowed that "that 'ere miss verne hadn't an equal in the dominion." it so happened that melindy jane one evening asked for an hour or two out, and the request being granted a few minutes later the happy rubicund face of moses, beaming with smiles, illuminated the gateway as he passed through, hand-in-hand with his _fiancee_. mrs. montgomery was a lover of fun, and she enjoyed the sight with evident relish. mr. lawson's voice soon after interrupted her thoughts. "i came near being run down by one of your family, and an old friend of mine," cried he, his manner bright and cheerful, "i did not know that mr. spriggins was paying his addresses to anyone in this house." "if you saw him, mr. lawson, you would soon be convinced of his honorable intentions. indeed, mr. spriggins is an attentive lover, and in every way worthy of melindy." "he is one of the best fellows i ever met," said mr. lawson, with much enthusiasm. "you have reason to know him?" said mrs. montgomery, with evident surprise. "he did me a very great service, mrs. montgomery, and one i can never adequately repay." this was indeed a sudden revelation, but the lady showed good taste in her replies, and was much pleased with the knowledge that phillip lawson's character was made up of gratitude. mr. moses spriggins thought proper to spend a dollar or two upon melindy "each time he came to town," and on this evening in question the happy pair might be seen on charlotte street making glad the heart of the grocer by the extensive purchase of peanuts, peaches, pears, bananas, and every choice confection that was appreciated by miss melindy. "i tell yer what, melindy, if i was a-livin' in town i'd live. i'd buy them fellars out in less than no time," exclaimed moses, as a fair-sized banana disappeared from view at one gasp. "tell you what it is, melindy, them fellars makes a fortin' out of this stuff; by golly, it's good." a fact which was evident from the gusto resorted to in mastication. "thunder! what's that purty thing a-hangin' out in front of that 'ere stoppin' place? look melindy." "why you goosey, that is the royal hotel light--the electric light." melindy pronounced the three words with an air of pride, which indeed seemed to say "please bear in mind that i am no ignoramus." "wal, i do declare, if that aint the highfalutin' light they were a-tellin' about up to wiggleses t'other night." this was an unlucky speech for mr. spriggins. melindy's face was black as erebus in less than a minute and her eyes fairly darted fire. "don't mention those wiggleses agin mose, or as sure as my name is melindy jane thrasher, i'll never speak to you agin!" "now, listen to me, melindy, i was a-goin' to tell you that i only went up to wiggleses to borrow a crosscut from josiar. true as i live i w'ant inside the gate for i met josiar a-comin' out o' the milkin' yard and i then and there ups and tells him what i was arter." during this conversation the unconscious pair had gained the foot of king street and turned up prince william street toward chipman's hill where they took a stand. "and you got the crosscut at the gate?" asked the perturbed melindy, rather timidly. "i did, you dear old gal. now, what's the use of you gettin' jealors of me and josiar? i'm darned shure i don't be a-courtin' him." "don't talk so simple, mose," said melindy, giving her affianced an affectionate push against a large building that stood on the corner. "if i w'ant skeered of them 'ere police chaps i do believe i'd feel tempted to kiss you in this very place!" exclaimed moses in very pathetic style. "i'd like to see you, mose spriggins, forgit yourself in such a manner--it would be the last time you would act so in my presence," returned melindy jane in simply bewitching tones and more bewitching gestures. "well, just you wait till we get back to sunflower dale." "'sunflower', a nice name to be callin' our place. i wish that mrs. verne heard you moses, it would be the last time you'd poke your nose in there, i can tell ye mister mosey." "well, now see here, melindy. i see town is makin' you too toney, what's the use of cuttin' a fellar up so when he makes a little mistake?" "well, say sunnybank, and i won't be findin' any more fault." "well, sunnybank! aint that right melindy?" "leave out the _well_, and all will be well," said melindy, spitefully. "melindy jane thrasher, you are a gettin' too cute for anything. that was the cutest sayin' i've heerd for a long time. if you stay in town much longer you will be able to talk with any of them lawyers that's around as thick as thieves." "moses be keerful what you say, for some of the same fellars might have you hauled up for definition of character, and some of them can afford to do it too, for i believe there are honest ones among 'em. indeed, i know of one." "and i bet i know the same chap," said moses, jumping at the conclusion, with an accompanying exhibition of elasticity, not unworthy of the bygone arena, and then added, "and we both of us seed him this 'ere evenin'. aint that so, eh, melindy?" "there, don't be silly, moses," said the half-indignant melindy, pouting her ripe red lips, and trying to look very prim. when melindy wished to administer reproof to her betrothed she always addressed him as moses, a circumstance which had a very chilling effect upon the offender. "well, i vow if it aint--speak of the old fellar and he's sure to appear," cried moses. and instantly they were recognized by the stalwart young lawyer who was on his way homeward. "he didn't stay long. perhaps the missus ain't in very good humor to-night," surmised melindy. "perhap's he's too busy hisself. like as not he's off on some law scrape now. that's just it, for court's a settin' all this week. well i hope mr. lawson will get a good share of the pickins, for he's as honest as the sun, and when a fellar goes to him for advice he gets it in good english law, and no runnin' roundabout way that would puzzle a chap till his hair would turn gray." doubtless mr. spriggins would have expatiated on his friend's good qualities for a much longer time, but melindy was not inclined to have him waste so many eulogistic speeches at her expense. "how time goes! well, it seems no time since we left, and here we are back agin," said melindy, glancing up at the grand facade of "sunnybank," which looked as pretentious as its neighbors on the same imposing terrace. mr. spriggins was annoyed to think that it was only nine o'clock, and he must part with melindy. "you know what we used to learn in the little yellar book at home," said the latter. "yes, that's all very fine when a fellar hasn't anything better to do, but when a feller has sich good company, he don't think of being healthy, wealthy and wise, eh, melindy." "we'll not quarrel about it, anyhow," said melindy, evidently well pleased at being reckoned such good company, then instantly exclaimed, "what time are you agoin' to start in the mornin'; perhaps you can run down, and i may have somethin' to send the folks." a step upon the gravelled walk warned the lovers to retreat, and ere long mr. spriggins was wending his steps up sydney street, muttering imprecations upon the unknown person who had so unceremoniously broken up their rendezvous. meanwhile phillip lawson was enjoying the quiet of his cosy back parlor. he was seated in his huge arm-chair enjoying the _evening globe_ and a choice cigar. lottie lawson had once remarked that brother phillip might go without his tea, but he could not sleep without seeing the _globe_. and the little maid was right, for nothing is more inviting for the hurried man of business, the politician, the professional or the student than the perusal of the evening paper. look into the counting-rooms, the offices, the libraries--aye, even the brilliantly-illuminated parlors--and you will in each find your answer. but we must turn to our legal friend. as mr. spriggins surmised, it was court week, and a very busy one for mr. lawson. brighter prospects were now in store. prosperity had dawned upon the untiring student, and he looked forward with encouraging hopes. "thank god i am here yet," was the young man's exclamation, as he threw aside the paper and began to ruminate upon his prospects in general. strange to say he did not harbor ill-will to hubert tracy. he pitied him with a tender pity, and mourned for the wreck of a life that had such a good beginning. but mr. lawson had a feeling of enmity towards his contemporaries in the far west. he could ill repress the angry feelings that arose when the scheme presented itself in all its horrid reality. "what ground for bringing the gang to the scratch and making a startling expose of our legal brethren; yes, nice brethren too." no wonder that mr. lawson felt ashamed of his fraternity. if the shades of coke and blackstone could only arise--what a reckoning would be made. what a scene--aye, one that would need a milton to describe. thoughts akin to these were passing through the young lawyer's mind when he suddenly recalled the cause. the heavy brows are contracted and a scowl appears. "the wicked flourish for a season and so may you, my happy friends, but your happiness is not of the enduring kind." another scowl. "but if he succeeds i am miserable," muttered phillip lawson, his countenance betraying deep agitation. "but i will not suffer her to become a sacrifice. heaven forbid." there was determination in the tone and in the gesture which accompanied it. there was indeed to be a struggle between right and wrong, and a bitter struggle, too, but an all-wise providence rules over all, and disposes of events in an inscrutable order, and in the way he foreordains for his own glory. it is necessary to explain how matters stood between hubert tracy and the winnipeg solicitor. the latter had entered heartily into the affair and was looking forward to the big bonanza that he would gain. but some weeks passed and hearing nothing further mr. sharpley resolved to test the matter. receiving no answer to the first letter he despatched a second and was surprised to receive it re-addressed to himself. what did it mean? had mr. lawson removed to another field or had hubert tracy played false? the solicitor then wrote an acquaintance making some modest inquiries concerning mr. lawson's whereabouts and was further surprised to find that he was still in st. john, also that he was prospering in the profession and would one day rank as one of the leading practitioners there. mr. sharpley then directed his interrogations across the sea and much chagrined charged mr. tracy with duplicity. but it was the latter who felt the most non-plussed. he cursed phillip lawson from the bottom of his heart and hoped that he might live to crush him in the dust. "fool that i was to listen to his palaver!" cried he, "when i could have contrived some means to silence him most effectually. it is just what i deserve. he will dog my steps to the bitter end if i cannot accomplish my work very soon." it was while hubert tracy was being thus humiliated that he received a summons from mrs. montague arnold and hailed it as an omen of success. the interview was lengthy and boded no good to marguerite. "depend upon me, hubert," cried the heartless young matron as she graciously extended the tips of her taper fingers and smiled her most enchanting smile which the young gallant more than graciously acknowledged as he sprang into the cab awaiting him at the end of the court-yard. a few moments later he was at the club, and surrounded by a host of the most abandoned profligates he joined in the ribaldry and obscene jests with a zeal that betrayed the utter depravity of his habits, and also shewed that he had taken a headlong plunge into the vortex and must soon become a hopeless wreck. and yet a short time ago, so fair to look upon, hubert tracy had been indeed prepossessing in appearance. his neat, well built figure, graceful but manly carriage, agreeable address and fine manners gave him a significant tone and made him much sought after in society. there was even a pleasing expression in the young man's face that was really attractive. his chestnut locks of silken hair clustering in luxuriant ringlets were indeed the envy of the many less favored youth, while the hazel dreamy eyes, soft and expressive as a woman's, seemed to suggest that they had once been the pride of an indulgent mother and kind friends. "zounds, tracy my fellow, you're going all to sticks! what the devil is up? why, you look as if you had been trailed through seven cities--got the blues,--eh?" "worse than that, turpin. i'm in a fair way for the old bailey." "the deuce you are!" exclaimed the latter, who owing to several sharp feats performed upon some members of the club, was dubbed turpin. mr. turpin was a lucky kind of mortal who had a propensity for living on the funds of his more fortunate friends and always kept an eye to mr. tracy. the latter was lavish in expenditure and thought it a streak of luck to have an individual like turpin to cater to his caprice and assist in making his every day life free from remorse or anything approaching to it. "'jordan is a hard road to travel,' eh dick?" said hubert tracy as he raised the cocktail to view and stood gazing upon it, then swallowing the contents, as if anxious to get through the job, exclaimed, "heavens dick, i wish that were the last drink on this side of jordan," and after a desperate effort to appear at ease the young man left his rollicking set and sought his apartments in regent square. chapter xxv. mr. spriggins interviews mr. verne. while mr. verne sat in his office in water street, busy as usual on his exchanges, etc, an individual was making his way thither at a rapid gait, which, in fact, bore more closely to business than grace. the individual was mr. spriggins of mill crossing. any one keeping close behind the said gentleman might have heard the following soliloquy. "well, sir, i'm deuced glad i didn't let on to melindy, for like all wimen she'd be a peekin' to see what it was. it's terrible queer that not one of 'em is better than another. still we can't get along without 'em, nohow." here mr. spriggins emphasized the remark by a shrug of his herculean shoulders, and allowed himself to think what a blank this world would be without melindy. "wal, i reckon them bisness fellars have so many papers, round that its 'tarnal queer they don't loose money, but ten to one this 'ere thing don't amount to a goose egg." mr. spriggins had now gained the office, and with smiling countenance inquired for mr. verne. a genial "come in" from the inner office inspired our friend with additional confidence. mr. verne bowed in a respectful manner, and taking off his gold-rimmed spectacles motioned the young man to a seat. "good morning, sir," said the latter, feeling somewhat embarrassed as how to begin. "it is fine weather, indeed," returned mr. verne, pleasantly. "its no use delayin'," thought moses, "i'll make a bold dash," and jumping up from his seat, exclaimed, "you're mister verne that lives in the big house on that high bank up there by the square?" "yes, sir," said the latter, respectfully. "well, sir, did you ever see this 'ere piece of writin' afore, i picked it up near your house, and supposin' it were your'n i brought it here." mr. spriggins placed the document in mr. verne's hand, and the latter glanced at it carelessly at first, and was about to return it to his visitor, when his eye fell upon the following: "we can make him appear so guilty that all the laws under heaven could not clear him. two thousand dollars would be a sum sufficient to entrap him. if he is as trusting as you say, the easier will be the job to do it. at any rate, connors can finish what i undertake-- that is the silencing forever of that law sprig." "just be seated for a few minutes, sir," said mr. verne. "i think this is to me a very important document." mr. spriggins was now quite at home. he took in the surroundings with an air of interest, and became on terms of intimacy with the handsome spaniel that lay near him. mr. verne's hand trembled violently as he re-read the letter. he was deeply agitated, but fortunately the fact escaped mr. spriggins' notice. "i am deeply indebted to you, sir," said mr. verne, addressing his visitor. "i trust some day i shall be able to repay you." there was an earnestness in the tones and also a look of gratitude that made mr. spriggins feel a sudden sensation in his throat--a suffocation which made it impossible to reply--the big heart was full to overflowing. "this is an honest creature," thought mr. verne as he pretended not to observe his benefactor's emotion. mr. spriggins rose to go when suddenly mr. verne exclaimed "this is not going to be our last meeting mr. spriggins," (the latter had introduced himself previous to this) "i want to see you the next time you are in the city. remember you are welcome at my house any time that you call. don't forget to come." mr. verne received a more than hearty grasp of moses' iron hand and graciously escorted him to the door where he disappeared muttering along the street, "by hokey, i'm the luckiest chap in all christendom. there's no knowin' but what i may turn out to be the biggest gun among 'em yet." on his way home that day the hilarity of mr. spriggins was unbounded. even the canine denizens of the district through which he passed received compliments of no secondary order, and to quote his own expression "he was the happiest fellar between town and mill crossin'." but we must return to mr. verne. about an hour after mr. spriggins' departure he is seated in the library at "sunnybank" waiting summons to luncheon. "what is the matter with your time in the office, stephen?" said mrs. montgomery with an amused look upon her face. mr. verne glanced at his watch. "i made a mistake of an hour," said he absent-mindedly. "poor man," thought mrs. montgomery, "it is no wonder," and then hurrying off to give orders for an early meal, left him to the misery of his own thoughts. but this time they were not distracting ones. mr. verne had in his possession proof of the baseness of hubert tracy and his legal accomplices, and the more he thought of it the more puzzled he was. how did the letter get in the vicinity of "sunnybank." it certainly had been in the possession of some person or persons since it had been received by hubert tracy, as he had now been abroad for nearly three months. had it fallen into mr. lawson's hands? could it be possible that he had thus been warned of this conspiracy and changed his course of action? mr. verne thought over the matter and a light seemed to dawn upon him. he remembered of hearing his young friend making some inquiry as regards the affairs of a well known legal firm that had left st. john and earned a well-deserved reputation in the far west. he also thought of certain transactions which went to prove that at times mr. lawson's prospects were indeed sadly blue, and that, doubtless, hubert tracy had taken advantage of those occasions to hold up the tempting bait. "base scoundrel," muttered mr. verne with set teeth. "providence has not allowed him to ruin a noble life." mr. verne was not blind to outward circumstances. he knew full well what had prompted the deed, and he shuddered as he thought of his guileless child associated with such a character. he was in a quandary as to what steps to take that he could ward off suspicion. mr. verne wished to keep the affair a secret until he could have further ground for action. he knew that mrs. montgomery would be a sure ally, but second thoughts prompted him to say nothing of the matter just then, so he calmly supped his coffee at luncheon and talked over certain little plans with more than ordinary interest. "mr. lawson is much engaged lately," remarked mrs. montgomery, as she passed a second fragrant cup of coffee to mr. verne; "he only had time to make a short call last evening. i forgot to tell you before." "what is the matter, stephen, you look alarmed or surprised or some such way that i cannot describe," said the woman, glancing again at her brother-in-law. "i must give you credit for having more of the imaginative than i thought, hester," said mr. verne, trying to cover his agitation with an accusation. "i don't know whether to take that as a compliment or not, stephen," said mrs. montgomery helping herself to another of the delicious cheese cakes, the pride of the time-honored cook at "sunnybank." "you were speaking of mr. lawson, hester. what had he to say?" "nothing of much consequence, only that he was much occupied during the week. he seemed in such good spirits that i told him that he must have fleeced some poor mortal unmercifully." "hester you are a dreadful woman. it is a good thing that people don't mind what you say." "it would make little difference to me whether they would or would not, stephen. i shall always say just what my evil thoughts prompt me to say, and as you remark that is considerable." in justice to mrs. montgomery, we might as well here add, that what she said or did, was in a conscientious way. no slander could ever be traced to her nor could anything that savored of deception find a place in this honest woman's heart. "but to return good for evil," said mrs. montgomery, "i asked mr. lawson to let lottie go home with me." "home?" questioned mr. verne, in surprise. "yes, stephen, i cannot stay much longer. the fall work is coming on. jennie is a host in herself, but i must not impose upon good nature." "jennie montgomery is a rare jewel; and i least of all should insist upon your staying longer. you have, indeed, done much for me." "stop, stephen, i am not going to listen to any such stuff. indeed, it's a pity i could not come down to amuse myself for a while without you having such notions. the fact is, i needed change of air, and now having a sufficient store to subsist upon for the next half year, think i had better make tracks." "did you think of it yesterday, hester?" "to be honest with you, stephen, i scarcely thought of it until the sight of good-natured moses spriggins reminded me i had a snug little nest in kings county, and had better fly away to it." "spriggins, did you say, hester?" queried mr. verne, in a manner that showed that the name had been hitherto associated in his mind. "yes, sir, i said spriggins. did you not know that melindy jane thrasher has a suitor who calls as regularly as he comes to the city?" mr. verne laughed cheerily, a circumstance which was so unusual that the domestics in the basement were on the _qui vive_ to see what was the matter. "and you happened to interrupt the lovers i suppose," remarked mr. verne in his quaint dry way. "i did nothing of the kind, stephen. i met moses on the landing. i tell you what it is, i have great respect for moses spriggins. yes, for every one of the family," said mrs. montgomery in an earnest and respectful manner. "they live near you hester?" "about ten miles, perhaps not so far. simon spriggins raised a large family, but there are only two of the boys at home now, and nell spriggins is a nice looking girl. i tell you their home is neat and tasteful, although not very showy." "it seems quite a coincidence that the same moses spriggins should have occasion to call at the office to-day--" "to ask for melindy jane trasher, i suppose," cried mrs. montgomery, with as much merriment as a young girl. "he was merely conveying an important message," said mr. verne, "and in course of conversation i was quite interested." "moses is one of the best hearted creatures for miles around. he is often imposed upon when anything in the shape of tea meetings or bazaars are on the go." "all's well that ends well," said mr. verne, rising from the table quietly. "quite a digression," murmured mrs. montgomery, as she touched the gong and arose from her seat. within the sanctity of his private apartments mr. verne now saw clearly how matters stood. he was convinced that phillip lawson had been in possession of the letter and that he had dropped it while going or coming from "sunnybank," and that moses spriggins, following in his footsteps, had picked it up. "truly, indeed, 'god moves in a mysterious way,'" mused mr. verne as he glanced at the crumpled paper, "and to think they have been foiled in the outset. to think that i have entertained such a monster, and to have heard him applauded until i was nigh sick. heavens! if there be a retributive justice it shall surely be meted out to that accursed viper, hubert tracy." the compressed lips and fierce scowl gave expression to the anger within, and showed that when once aroused stephen verne was "a foeman worthy of his steel." he deliberated long upon his young friend's magnanimity. "lawson is a man of ten thousand, else he would have had the satisfaction of seeing the whole gang reap their reward. aye, lynching is too good for them, the scoundrels. but the time will come when they'll be found out, for they'll not stop at that," and in clear distinct tones mr. verne repeated the following lines:-- "though the mills of god grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small; though with patience he stands waiting, with exactness grinds he all." mrs. montgomery was not satisfied with mr. verne's evasiveness. like most women she had a fair share of curiosity, and now she was doubly curious. "it's no earthly use to try to sift stephen, for he's as firm as a granite bowlder; but one thing is certain, there's something in the wind just now--something in which mr. lawson and moses spriggins are both concerned, though either or both may be unaware of it. let me see," continued mrs. montgomery, elevating her eyebrows, and looking very much like a lawyer when he has his client's opponent in the witness stand. "mr. lawson was here last night and left early. moses spriggins was here also, and left later. now, as to what took moses to the office that's where the mystery is, and that there is one i am as certain as the head is on my body." one good trait in mrs. montgomery's character was that she never lost confidence in a friend until she had the most positive proof of his guilt, her honest nature was slow to believe in the worst side of humanity. "whatever it is," murmured she, "it is the doings of some other parties, for both are above suspicion." the entrance of mr. verne put an end to the soliloquy, but did not drive away the subject, and when the latter was safely out of hearing, mrs. montgomery exclaimed to herself "i see plainly that stephen is deeply agitated. he seldom carries that look. it is something of an uncommon nature that has aroused him. he thinks he hides his secret whatever it be, but poor stephen is not schooled in the ways of deception, and in the end it is better so." and repeating the words, "'tis better so," the whole-hearted woman was soon occupied over the ways and means of domestic economy. chapter xxvi. despondency. much as we would like to follow other friends we cannot yet leave phillip lawson. he is now in great trouble having met with a loss that is great. "i might have known that it was too much good fortune for me," cried the young man in sad and pathetic voice. "fool that i was to carry it about when i was so lucky for once in my life." phillip lawson was the picture of despondency. a heavy cloud had settled down just as all had promised fair and now all was darkness and gloom, not a ray of hope pierced the grim portals which had closed so suddenly upon him. he thought of the tuscan poet and wondered if it were possible that his bitter experience had called forth that direful inscription-- "abandon hope all ye who enter here." "ah, my life is hades! i look for none other!" cried phillip, his mind now in an unsettled state and ready almost to doubt truth and revelation. "i have tried hard to lead a good moral life, to live according to the teachings of the golden rule and to live with god's help in accordance with the teachings of his holy doctrine, and why is it that i am thus hardly dealt with?" we cannot blame our young friend if he be somewhat rebellious. his faith is sorely tried and he is at first found wanting; but unlike many others who have gone down under the weight of the angry billows, stems the torrent and with his eye straight for the beacon light reaches the haven in safety. "i believe that some good may yet spring from it. hubert tracy will not have the power to injure my reputation. he may succeed for a time, but there is a nemesis cruel as death." phillip repeated these words as if he were the avenging deity himself and the hoarseness of his voice made them sound doubly prophetic. "if they could only have passed into mr. verne's hands instead of mine it would have been better for all parties; but what's the use of talking." phillip looked sad and careworn, aye, ten years older than on the previous night, and had mrs. montgomery looked in upon him then she would surely have been more perplexed than ever. "it will never do for me to be hunting around the doors at 'sunnybank.' for the life of me i cannot see how such a thing could have happened." for the sake of explanation we must admit that our legal friend had a failing which often turned out disastrously for himself and at times for others--he was simply speaking--absent-minded, but bear in mind it was only outside of business matters. as a clear thinker mr. lawson had no superior, he was equal to any question, running over with brilliant repartee and thoughtful speech. it was only when the office door was closed and business suspended that he was guilty of this weakness, and as it on this occasion, caused him to suffer much from the consequence we hope to prove that he had overcome it. the fact was the paper had slipped between the folds of his handkerchief when he had taken it to brush off some dust that persistently adhered to his coat sleeve. there was another view of the matter from a more jubliant source, mr. moses spriggins. the latter toiled away in the ten acre lot at mill crossing in the happy thought of some day being "as big a gun as the rest of 'em," and with the kindness received from mr. verne the happy climax was almost reached. "would'nt it be great," mused moses as he followed the plough in the field above referred to, "if when melindy and myself go to town that we would put up at them 'ere verneses. golly it would make the wiggleses eyes stick out furder than ever. they're a jealous lot at the best o' times, and its sich a silly idear for melindy to be a-naggin' at me for goin' there when i never go nearer than the rickety old gate." mr. spriggins was evidently taking on a few airs for he seemed quite exasperated and ready to battle against such aspersions. instantly his face became radiant as the noonday sun, and he burst forth in rapturous strains-- "what a man i would be and what sights i would see if i had but ten thousand a year," until the hills and dales in the vicinity of mill crossing caught up the refrain and all nature seemed to rejoice. "what's the use of wishin'? it won't bring the ten thousand any more than i could turn that old millstream yonder tother way. but what's the odds so long as yer happy?" and once more there floated on the breeze-- "if i had but _one_ thousand a year." "yes sir, i'd be content," exclaimed mr. spriggins, as he finished the last stanza and took a vigorous pull at his pipe as means of reconciliation with his present circumstances. "and, by-the-bye, i must go up to ned joneses to-night and talk him into that business. it aint any sense for ned and me to be a keepin' up spite 'cause the old folks want ter. no sir, not this child, anyhow." between eulogizing and soliloquizing moses' morning wore into evening and having hitched up the old mare he set off for the post office--a spot doubly endeared to him since melindy jane thrasher went to service, since which time there regularly arrived every monday evening a suspicious letter addressed:-- mr. moses spriggins, mill crossin', kings county, n. b. in haste. imagine the surprise of our friend on being presented with three whole letters--nothing more, nothing less--and one was addressed "moses spriggins, esq." "i wouldn't take that as a joke, nohow, mose," said a lugubrious looking individual, whose face looked as if it had been playing "i spy" with a tallow candle and got the worst of the battle. "bet your life on it it's no joke; you're jest right zeb, it's real down airnest; the fellow that rit that ain't one of your jokin' consarns." mr. spriggins glanced over melindy's letter to see if she was in good "speerits," and being more than satisfied, broke open the seal of the second one, which was from mr. verne. it was written in a large and legible hand, and was couched in the most simple language, and ended with a request that the finding of the paper should be kept secret until such time as he (mr. verne) should see fit to acknowledge it. "i do not doubt you, mr. spriggins, only you might carelessly let it be made known among your friends." when moses read these lines he was more than delighted. they expressed such confidence in him that he felt so proud, to quote his own expression, "that he wouldn't claim relationship with the attorney gin'ral." the third letter which drew our friend's attention, was a notice from the dominion safety fund company, which almost gave as much pleasure as the other, for in it lay, as moses expressed it, "a big bonanzer one of these days." but moses was not destined to live many days in a perpetual ray of sunshine. mrs. spriggins was a motherly and kind woman, careful, industrious and economical, but she had one bad habit--that of scolding. "mother could no more live without scoldin' than dad could live without his tobaccer," was moses' frequent comment when beyond the old lady's hearing. the happy first-born was dear to mrs. spriggins as "the apple of her eye," but he always came in for a decent share of the scolding. "now, what that critter is a galavantin' to town and gettin' so many letters is mor'n i can tell. seems to me he must be neglectin' sumthin', for i tell ye things won't git along without puttin' your shoulder to the wheel." (mrs. spriggins had evidently heard of the fable of sisyphus, and gave it an original translation.) "that's all right jerushy, but i don't think there is any danger of our moses. he's as stiddy as a rock." "don't let him hear you say so, simon, for its the worst thing in the world to be a-praisin' your own children, and a-tellin' them they're so smart, and good lookin', it makes them so ever-lastin' conseity." mr. spriggins, sr., was going to remark that there was no danger of _her_ children getting spoilt, but he knew what was best for himself, and kept a quiet tongue in his head. the next evening after moses had been to the post office, he became aware of the startling fact that his mother had been peeking into his trousers pocket while she rearranged his neat little room, and made it look more spicy by the addition of a set of snow-white curtains. "'pears to me moses you have a lot of business agoin' on. hope you ain't writin' to any girls but melindy. you know anything i despise is a young man a-flirtin' with every girl he sees, and besides its not what any honest man would do. it's well enough for them 'ere city chaps that thinks no more of their word than eating their supper, to be runnin' arter every piece of calicer they see, but i tell you none of the spriggins is agoin' to do it." mrs. spriggins evidently meant what she said if one could judge from her vehemence, her snapping eyes and sharp tongue. "don't be skeered of me a flirtin' mother, i'll stick to melindy while there's a button to my coat," said moses trying hard to look very dignified. "well, what is all of 'em letters about?" "what letters mother?" queried moses, with the evident delight of extorting a confession. "why as i was a-hangin' up your sunday trousers some of 'em fell out and i couldn't help a-lookin' at the writin' on the back. "from as fine a gentleman as ever walked the streets of st. john," cried moses quite emphatically. "what's comin' next! you, moses spriggins of mill crossin', a ritin' letters to a gentleman. let's hear all about it. "i'm not at liberty to tell you jest now mother, i'm sorry to say, but it's all right." "am i in my sober senses or am i in a nightmare? (no, there's mose as nateral as life.)" then pointing her finger at the supposed culprit mrs. spriggins exclaimed: "i tell you what it is moses spriggins it's nothin' very good that you're ahidin' from your own mother. got into them lawyer's clutches at last? ye used ter say ye liked law and if i'm as good a prophet as i think i ort to be you'll get enough of it. like as not the farm and the stock and all the utensils will go afore long. oh dear me!" mrs. spriggins now stopped for want of breath and fawning herself violently with the bottom of her blue gingham apron made a second onslaught. "i tell ye what it is mose there is no good comin' of this 'ere gallivantin' to town every t'other day, anyhow." "mother, if you would only have patience a few minits i might make some explanation, but you seem to want to have it your own way," said moses, who had now determined to venture a word or two in his defence. "be keerful, moses, how you speak to your own mother. it's time i _had_ everything my own way, when other folks can't manage their own affairs," said mrs. spriggins, with an angry toss of her head. "now jest listen a minit, mother, and if i'm wrong i'll give in," said moses, trying to effect a compromise. "well, let's hear what you have to say for yourself; but remember, you must not palaver it up to suit yourself, or i'll soon find out--sure as my name is jerushy ann spriggins." moses had, to a certain extent, allayed mrs. spriggins' fears, and brought matters to a satisfactory close, when a load knock at the front door caused the latter to utter a startling exclamation, and then run to the glass to see if her hair was parted straight. "gracious goodness, mother, if there ain't the greatest crowd you ever saw. there's mister and missus squires and deacon rider, and missus rider and little joe rider, and there's huldey ameliar dickson and marthy ann, and a hull lot more." "moses spriggins, are you a-takin' leave of your senses to be a-standin' gapin' with your mouth open instead of runnin' to the door and a-showin' 'em into the best room, and i'm not fit to be seen. it's allus the way. if i had all my fixin's on there'd not be a soul to come, but let one sit in their old rags, and the hull country side will pop in." moses had not heard the last part of the speech, for in less than a minute he was at the front door, doing the honors with all the grace imaginable. "nell has gone to the store, but mother will be here in a few minutes, so make yourselves to hum," cried the genial host, showing the female guests the way into the spare room "to take off their bunits." when mrs. spriggins appeared not a trace of the recent encounter was visible. "wal, mrs. spriggins, yer growin' younger lookin' every day," said the good old deacon as he glanced at the hostess in her best gown and black lace cap, not forgetting to admire the coquettish white linen stomacher that completed the costume. "deacon rider, i'm afraid you are guilty of sayin' little fibs as well as the rest of the folks. what do _you_ think, mr. squires?" mrs. spriggins' appeal placed the minister in a trying position, and his better half came boldly to the rescue. "i tell you what it is, mrs. spriggins, i'm not going to allow you to get all the compliments. just think of it, deacon rider drove all the way over, and never paid one of us a compliment." "well, well, if here ain't all the folks," exclaimed good natured simon spriggins, bursting into the best room with several straws clinging to his trousers--a practical illustration of attraction of adhesion. "missus squires, i do declare! why, it does one's eyes good to see you. and missus rider, too--i haven't seen her for an age. why it makes me feel young agin to see one of my old beaux around. eh, jerushy." "a pretty thing you, to be a-talkin' of beaux. better go and get off your old clothes first, for you'd scare the crows." mrs. spriggins then became deeply interested in the affairs of her visitors and began bustling about at a great rate, and making hosts of excuses for things "not a-lookin' as nice as they had orter, for nell had been a-spinnin,' and they had extry work besides." "come, come, mother, you needn't be a-puttin' on airs now, for the folks won't believe you, nohow." at this sally from moses spriggins the younger visitors set up a laugh, and the older ones smiled and said "moses is full of fun." and after a few such preliminaries the party were ensconced in the best room, enjoying the unbounded hospitality proverbial to the sprigginses, while moses went up to his room to have another spell at the important letter, and as he read over for the seventh time the neatly rounded sentences, he felt that he could well afford to bear reproof for the sake of having the good will of such a man. chapter xxvii. visitors at "gladswood"--the fishing excursion. an interesting trio graced the cosey parlor of "gladswood" on this glorious september eve. the balmy breeze stole softly through, the open casement of the old-fashioned lattice window, and shed its fragrance profusely. "really, jennie, this is more like an evening in june than september. why one seems to think there must surely be some of the roses around." "and so there are, my dear," said jennie montgomery, taking helen rushton by the arm and pointing to a small flower stand whereon sat a fragrant rose bush crowned with tea roses. "they are indeed magnificent, jennie, but i meant the little june roses that made such a gorgeous sight the morning that madge and i arrived _sans ceremonie_." "you prefer wild flowers to the more brilliant sisterhood of the hothouse, miss rushton," exclaimed mr. lawson with an air of interest. "i must confess that i do mr. lawson, they seem so natural, so pure and so unaffected. they are always associated with life as it should be, and not as it is." "helen you are a darling," cried jennie montgomery, "those are just my ideas too. how is it possible that a refined city girl can foster such sentiments when surrounded by such opposite and antagonistic elements." "jennie, my dear, you must not infer from this that i do not approve of the forms and usages of society, for i _do_, but my society is common sense society, if i may be allowed the expression." "you are quite right, miss rushton. halifax will never lose her prestige while she sends out women gifted with such ideas of true worth." helen slightly changed color but felt no embarrassment. mr. lawson had listened to her clearly advanced views and was pleased with the style she argued and his last remark he considered as no flattery. "what a pity marguerite is not here," said helen enthusiastically. "and josie jordan to enliven the scene," returned jennie with a look of mischief in her bright sparkling eyes. "yes, and make one feel as if always eager and ready for the fray," said helen, "for commence as meekly as a saint that girl will have a pitched battle before one gets half through." jennie montgomery's voice rang out in peals of hearty laughter and ended by infecting her companions. "poor josie," exclaimed jennie when the laugh subsided, "she is as charlie verne says, 'a regular romp,' but she has a big tender heart." "i think her manner is becoming much more subdued than when i first saw her," said phillip lawson who had seen much of the wilful josie at the rutherford mansion, whither he often spent a quiet hour in the company of his friend herbert rutherford. helen rushton was truly fond of the hoyden girl and it was only from a desire to get the others' opinion that caused her to make the above remarks. "we need just such girls as josie, mr. lawson, to keep the world in a healthy state. i'm sure it would never do to have all wiseacres like a certain young woman of my acquaintance." "and of mine too, miss rushton," cried a voice from the adjoining hall. "josie jordan," cried both girls in amazement on beholding the subject of their remarks standing upon the threshold, hat in hand, and her hair in wild disorder about her neck, adding: "yes, josie jordan, if you please. what's all the fuss about. can't i run up here without making your eyes stick out like rabbits'?" phillip lawson being almost concealed behind the window curtains now betrayed his presence by a hearty laugh. "_you're_ not surprised at all, mr. lawson, and as the children say, i'm not going to play pretend," exclaimed josie, shaking the young man heartily by the hand, then giving him a vigorous push in the direction of the door, added, "run out and see for yourself." the girls now indulged in hearty embraces, and josie breathless with delight went on to tell how she had planned the surprise and the manner by which she effected her escape from her aunt's house. "it's no use, josie, i believe you are capable of doing anything after this," said helen rushton, raising her hands in holy horror at the thought of the escapade. "i am not a party in the matter at all, young ladies," exclaimed herbert rutherford, who now entered with phillip lawson, looking as handsome as a prince with his large dark eyes and brilliant brunette skin, with the least possible tinge of ruddy carmine exquisitely blended. "don't tell me that women can't keep a secret after this," cried josie, rocking to and fro in paroxysms of laughter. and in the straggling explanations that followed they learned that mr. montgomery had been concerned in the plot. "i couldn't stay down there back of sundown when i heard there was such lots of company up here. no indeed; talk of solitude, i believe robinson crusoe lied when he said he liked it. yes, and old friday too, if he said so." "oh! josie, you are beginning to disgrace a fellow already," cried herbert, alternating the words with genuine laughter. "auntie will be weeping and wailing my absence. poor old soul; she don't deserve it, but i couldn't stay. good gracious, there would have been the expense of a funeral, and i'm sure that's something to consider up in brookville." mr. montgomery had now joined the company, and with josie's enlivening speeches it had a merry tone. "i cannot see how friend herb should be so opportune," said mr. lawson, with an arch glance at the incorrigible josie. "defend yourself, sir knight," cried the latter, in her pretty artful way, that made the wavy ringlets play hide-and-seek with the utmost _abandon_. "i was on my way to the fishing grounds, and you can imagine my surprise on being hailed in this wise:--'i say, mister, can you take a passenger?' on looking around i espied a young lady and bundle waiting for transportation to sussex, five miles out of my way. just think of it, and i had to stop, and here you see the passenger, while your humble servant is without doubt the subject of a few prayers from the boys who are anxiously awaiting a further supply of rations." "they'll not starve till morning, mr. rutherford, and i think we had better all form a party and go with you," exclaimed mr. montgomery, who now occupied a seat beside josie, and was as much a youth as his fourteen-year-old son who had entered unobserved while the conversation was going on. "won't that be glorious!" cried josie, springing from her seat and clapping her hands with delight. "and i suppose the pantry must suffer for it," said the cheery hostess, who had overheard her husband's suggestion. "well, mother, i think you can afford us a good supply, and not suffer the inconvenience of hunger either," said jennie, placing her hand caressingly upon her mother's shoulder, and thinking in the meantime of the delicious pumpkin pies, tempting doughnuts and soft gingerbread that were piled upon the pantry shelves in a manner that, to quote a younger scion of the montgomery family, "would make a fellow's teeth water." the evening was indeed a jolly one at "gladswood." josie being sufficient entertainment for a much larger company made the most of her time, and the most shrewd observer could not detect anything like gloom in phillip lawson's manner as he laughed and chatted among the happy party. as the hour was growing late helen rushton requested that josie would sing something for them to "dream on." the latter possessed a soft, rich and musical voice of much flexibility and easily adapted to meet the tastes of her audience. "what shall i sing?" cried she in imploring tones as her eyes instinctively met those of mr. lawson. "anything you like," replied several voices. as the girl took her seat at the piano she looked everything but a hoyden. a sweet native grace possessed every movement and gave dignity to every gesture. the pretty fingers, somewhat browned by recent exposure, ran over the keys and a prelude soft and bewitching floated around the room, then the bird-like notes warbled forth that well-known song-- "'tis evening brings my heart to thee." a solemn stillness prevailed. an exquisite sadness seemed to possess each member of the company, but there was one who felt it keenly. as phillip lawson sat there listlessly turning over the leaves of a handsomely-bound portfolio who could tell of the deep agitation that almost unmanned him? not a muscle moved, not a sigh was heard, not a look was conveyed, yet deep down in his heart was a fierce conflict. "my god," thought the young man in the bitterness of his heart, "will the dead past never bury its dead? why does it come forth from its shallow sepulchre and meet me on the most trifling occasions? even that romping girl has power to unearth the mystic presence." the last notes had died away and jennie montgomery cast a quick glance at the young lawyer. her intuitive nature was sadly alive to the effect produced upon her friend. "poor phillip," thought she, "he thinks he is secure, that none intrude upon the sanctity of his thoughts. poor phillip, i would wish him happier things." "such a song to amuse a company," exclaimed herbert rutherford. "if maude was here you might expect a crying match, and judging by the rest of the faces i think we could count upon a pretty fair exhibition of the pathetic." "well, herb, it is not for your individual benefit," cried josie, closing the book and rising from the piano. she was about to say something further when a glance from mr. lawson caused her to stammer and blush in sad confusion. "what have i done?" thought the girl. "he is angry at me." and whenever she turned the reproachful eyes seemed to confront her. was there any real cause for such alarm? josie jordan was of a highly-wrought, imaginative mind, quick to suspect, impulsive and full of vagaries and oftentimes those susceptibilities led many a wild-goose chase. there was another that interpreted the look from a different standpoint. jennie montgomery learned to realize phillip lawson's thoughts, and she felt that a yearning sympathy had arisen within herself; yet, she knew full well that her friend josie was ignorant of anything which would suggest the song, and as she was going to ask the hitter for one of her favorites, mr. lawson came and stood beside josie, exclaiming in the softest and most gentle tone, "you sing well, miss josie, i'm afraid that you have got yourself into trouble, for i am a lover of song and--" "have become a perfect bore," cried josie, "there i have done you the service to finish the sentence, mr. lawson." "look here, miss jordan, the genial atmosphere of kings county has not any beneficial effect upon your good behaviour," cried herbert rutherford, glancing at the pretty half-grown child with an air of much gravity, and wondering if she will be a child-woman as well. "i like mr. lawson only he has a strange way of looking at you," was josie's comment as the girls sought a snug little nook upstairs to have a quiet chat before retiring. "mr. lawson is a deep thinker, and ever in his brown-study his eyes may happen to be riveted on you or any other object, yet he sees it not. he is looking upon a picture perhaps fairer, perhaps less fair, as circumstances may suggest, but depend upon it, he is lost to all outward surroundings." the words had no sooner escaped jennie montgomery's lips than she regretted them, but happily her remarks did not take deep root in the minds of her girl companions. the many little tidbits of girlish gossip and jokes were followed by merry laughter until the heavy stroke of the old clock of the household suggested that if they wished a good day's sport they must first have refreshing sleep, and soon all was still within the quaint sleeping-rooms, wherein the merry maidens dreamt their girlhood dreams. but in the snowy white chamber hitherto described in a preceding chapter there were subdued sounds which betrayed the disturbed state of the occupant. phillip lawson's couch was yet bedecked in its snowy draperies and its perfect folds showed that no hand had marred its effect by actual contact. the heavy hunting-case watch lying upon the dressing-case pointed to the wee small hours. yet it mattered not. the song was ringing in the young man's ears. ever and anon the beautiful refrain sounded through the quiet room with increasing volume. "why am i such a fool?" murmured the young man as he leaned upon the window-sill and looked out upon the beautiful scene below. "why are not my thoughts in harmony with this glorious picture-- this realization of a poet's dream. ah, truly, the heart is an unruly pupil. it is ever rebellious against the teaching of the stern monitress--duty." phillip lawson heaved a sigh and then continued: "whatever the future will bring god only knows; whatever is is all for the best." a hush fell upon the troubled heart, and taking up the book of prayers, the young man read the beautiful and sublime evening service of the episcopal church, of which he was a consistent and conscientious member, and in whose prosperity he took an active interest, laboring hard both by his purse and by his personal influence to increase its growth, and cherish sacred those memories of the bye-gone past. but of the incoming morn. an unusual babble and hurry-scurry time was going on long ere herbert rutherford had thought fit to arouse his friend. "i say, lawson, what in the mischief is the matter? why, the folk downstairs have been kicking up the biggest fuss for the last three hours. how could you sleep? gracious, how those girls are tearing around--no allowance for nerves here." phillip lawson laughed and soon began to make his morning toilet, while herbert rutherford betook himself to the stable to see if everything was in readiness to start. to the latter's surprise he espied jennie montgomery coming across the field with her favorite spaniel close in pursuit. "good morning, miss montgomery. what errand of mercy has demands upon you at this early hour, for certainly it can be nothing less," and the glance at the substantial errand basket was significant of the interpretation. "i am the errand boy on particular occasions," said jennie, her face aglow with the healthful exercise. herbert rutherford looked at the beaming face and then at the trim but graceful figure in neat print frock just of a length to show a well-formed foot encased in heavy-soled shoes. "talk of your city girls--there is a match for any of them," muttered the young man as he saw the maiden spring over the opposite stile and then throw back one of her sweetest smiles. * * * * * "a pretty fellow, by jove," said one. "a nice commissariat," said a second. "why didn't you wait until you came to pick up our bones?" shouted another, with force sufficient to show that starvation had not yet attacked the camp. "you're all right yet, i guess," said herbert rutherford, reining up the pretty and spirited animal beside an old hut that served as dining-hall for the party. "herb, say, hope you didn't forget the corkscrew this time," shouted a voice from behind an old stump. "caesar and anthony!" was the exclamation as the smiling maidens and their attendants came in sight. "josie jordan!" cried a trio and the congratulations that followed need not be repeated. a jollier party never fished in that well-known brook and better appetites never were known than when the table was thrice set and thrice cleared of the most tempting dishes that ever graced a festive board. "who would have ever thought of meeting you here, old bookworm?" exclaimed a happy-looking youth hailing from a shipper's office on the south wharf. "well sir, i would as soon have expected to see old herodotus stalking along with his wonderful nine," roared another, slapping mr. lawson with more force than elegance. "and i haven't steered across you since that night at verne's. quite a change there since then, eh lawson? have you heard the latest news?" phillip had now drawn the speaker aside. he learned with regret that mr. verne had suspended payment but had been granted extension. "it may turn out better than people think," returned phillip. "not a ghost of a chance for him. he's sure to go and a big smash it will make." "it will go hard with mr. verne," remarked the former. "it will go harder with his fool of a wife," returned the other, "she worked for it sure and is not to be pitied; but there is one i do feel for--that is marguerite." phillip lawson's reply was inaudible for the merry group came on at a rapid rate and surrounded them with all the fishing apparatus conceivable. "poor marguerite," muttered phillip and he went on with his work as if nothing had happened to mar his day's sport or divert his thoughts across a wider stream. chapter xxviii. the lovers' misunderstanding made up--moses keeps his secret. on the evening after his arrival in the city phillip lawson found his way to "sunnybank." as he stood on the vestibule his thoughts reverted to the missing paper. "it was so important; and now that i could have more hope than before." it must not be presumed that the young man exulted over the reported insolvency. he fervently prayed that marguerite verne should have moral courage to bear up under the pressure of circumstances that must necessarily follow, but he hoped that a life of usefulness would be more acceptable than that of luxury hitherto enjoyed. "if it were only in my power to pay off every farthing of those enormous debts gladly i would do it for her sake though she might never know who was her benefactor." such were the tenor of mr. lawson's thoughts as he advanced towards mr. verne and received a hearty welcome--almost an ovation. "mr. lawson, you cannot imagine how much i missed you, else you surely could not have stayed so long!" exclaimed the host springing from his chair like a boy of sixteen. "only five days in all, sir, since i was here." "five days!" cried mr. verne drawing his hand across his furrowed forehead as if to gain clearer perception, "five days! dear me, it seems like five months--five months." mr. verne seemed for a moment or so to have forgotten that he had a guest for he was lost in thought. presently his mind cleared. "how did you leave all at 'gladswood.' in fact i forgot that you were there." mr. lawson then gave a brief description of the days spent at the farmhouse and was pleased to note the very great interest with which mr. verne listened. the solicitor was puzzled. he expected to find his friend in a state of deep dejection, but instead he was more cheerful than usual, and seemed to be exulting over some secret or newly-found joy. "he may be rejoicing in the thought that his child is soon to be in a position which his reverses cannot affect." phillip lawson had no sooner uttered these words in an undertone, than a deep chill seemed to paralyze his muscular frame. "just as if that should be of import to a poor beggar like me, who has no more than can keep the wolf from the door." strictly speaking the last remark was somewhat hyperbolical, for as we have hitherto been informed the young solicitor's professional emoluments were now anything but scanty, but it was in the bitterness of spirit that he made use of the words. "have you heard from mrs. and miss verne, sir." "there, i would have forgotten! it seems to me i am getting old fast--nothing tells on a man like that," said mr. verne, smiling and drawing from the pigeon-hole of a small desk a neatly-folded letter. "my little girl refers to you--listen to this"--and the fond father read a portion of the letter, in which she referred to the young lawyer, and begged that her father would convey her thanks for the very great thoughtfulness of mr. lawson in trying to cheer him in her absence and filling up the vacant place beside him. "tell him, dear papa, i shall never forget him for it--never." mr. verne was deeply affected as he read the last sentence; also was his visitor. "my marguerite, she cares yet for her doting father. yes, mr. lawson, my child worships those who are kind to me." "you can never fully express miss verne's worth, sir. i am only too happy to do anything that would secure her good wishes, for coming, as they do from one so good, they most certainly result in good." "the man is honest," thought phillip lawson; "he does not wish me to think that his daughter has any other feeling than that of gratitude, and i honor him for it." the young man glanced around the elegant parlor with its glittering furniture and costly _vertu_, and felt sad at the thought of the great change that was in store for the delicate girl who had been reared in the lap of luxury. he wished to refer to business, but mr. verne evaded him at every turn, and when he rose to go, felt somewhat uneasy and disappointed. "there is something astir," thought phillip, as he passed down mecklenburg street and turned up carmarthen, on his way home. "there is something in the wind. i can already feel it in my bones," exclaimed the young man, striding along with a rate of velocity equal to that of his thoughts. a sudden fancy seized him. quick as lightning it darted through every nerve and electrified him with pain. "it must be so! fool that i was not to see it before. tracy has proposed in the nick of time. he has had an accomplice whom it is easy to guess. it's all up with me now, and she can send kind wishes without a feeling of restraint" phillip lawson was indeed sore at heart. he reasoned long and argued the ease to the best of his ability; but love is one thing and law is another--the two abstracts cannot coincide any more than can a parallelogram coincide with an equilateral triangle. "but must i stand calmly by and make no effort to save her from such a fate. merciful heavens! there's no clue for me to prove what i had already known. why was i so unfortunate. surely heaven will not suffer hubert tracy to accomplish his designs. i wish him no bodily harm, but i trust that he may yet atone for his deeds, and live to see the error of his ways." by the time the solicitor reached his home he was calm and collected. "brother phillip," was the first exclamation he heard; "look, are not these beautiful. josie jordan brought them this afternoon. she kept me laughing nearly all the time she was here telling about the fun she had at 'gladswood'." "ah! the ferns are from jennie montgomery, i presume," said the brother, giving them a second glance of admiration. "yes, and the sweetest little letter you ever saw beside. isn't she lovely, brother phillip?" the _petite_ little maiden had now nestled closely in her brother's arms; her flaxen curls showered around her in sad disorder, while one plump little arm was entwined around his neck. "you must be dreaming, brother phillip. why, you never heard my question." "i beg your pardon, little one, for this time. miss jennie is all that you think her to be," replied the brother, somewhat gravely. "do you know what i was thinking of, you dear old brother," said lottie, emphasizing the speech with an affectionate hugging. "i was thinking of all the nice young ladies you are acquainted with, and wondering which one i would like you to marry." "what put such notions into your head, you silly child. have i not a little wife already. but let me hear the rest of it." phillip lawson indulged his pet sister in all her pastimes, and was now an attentive listener to her proposals. "you know, brother phillip, there is miss verne--." "yes--go on," said the brother in a quick, nervous manner. "and there's jennie montgomery and louise rutherford and miss rushton and josie jordan, and--" "i think you have got enough now to decide from." "well," continued lottie, not appearing to notice the interruption. "there is miss marguerite. i love her dearly. i feel like kissing her picture every time i see it--well she is an angel, brother phillip, and sometimes i think she is too good to marry anyone." "a compliment to the sterner sex," remarked phillip, in an undertone, then he exclaimed, "child, where did you get such ideas?" "oh, i hear the girls in school nearly every day, and yesterday belle morris asked me if i would like you to get married." "i think the young ladies might find more profitable employment during study hours." "oh, we don't talk only at recess. now please don't be angry, brother phillip, for i never said anything." "thank you little miss discretion. i am very glad that you do not indulge in gossip. listen to what solomon says," and going to the book-case phillip took therefrom a bible, and read from proverbs xvii. ,-- "he that repeateth a matter separateth _very_ friends." lottie saw that her brother did not wish to hear more on the subject, and she again took up the bunch of pressed ferns which had arrived from "gladswood." "i wish that i could be as good as jennie montgomery. why she's scarcely ever idle one moment during the whole day, and she never seems happy but when she is helping some person. do you know brother phillip the oldest people around love her, and she goes and reads to the sick and runs all the errands for the sick herself." "i am glad you observed so closely my dear, and i hope lottie lawson may one day be as good a woman as friend jennie," said phillip very earnestly. "oh, i know i never can have the happy way of setting everything right that is wrong, and taking the tangles out of the most common affairs the same way that jennie does. oh, no, brother phillip, don't expect me to be anything like that." the fond brother could not fail to see that there was a vein of good sense running all through the child's remarks, and he also noted her quaint style of application. the appearance of kitty, the housemaid, interrupted further reply. with a respectful air the domestic made known to her master that, owing to the death of a near relative, she had to remove to the country to take charge of a family of small children. "indeed, mr. lawson, you have been a good, kind master to me, and that angel there"--pointing to lottie--"the likes of her is not in st. john. but i'll hear from yous often and when tim is in town he'll run in to see how yous are gettin' on." "and you must go immediately, i suppose?" said the young man who indeed regretted the loss of an industrious and honest domestic. "next saturday, sir, tim will be after me, and the children is a sufferin' between whiles." "very well, kitty, we must do the best we can," and mr. lawson was already prospecting over a trip to mrs. lee's intelligence office to procure a successor to the lamented kitty. "look here brother phillip, i believe that i can get a new girl without any trouble." "you little one!" cried the young man, laughing at the idea of such a grave responsibility being associated with the child. "wait a moment until i come back," said the latter who in a very short time reappeared, breathless with anticipation. "yes indeed, melindy thrasher is going to leave mr. verne's--kitty says so. please let me go down and see. you know i am growing quite old now and ought to be able to do lots of things." "as you wish, lottie; but remember you must first find out if mr. verne is aware of the fact." within a week melindy thrasher was duly installed as general servant in the lawson cottage, a fact which is worthy of mention as it is connected with other important matters relative to the affairs of the solicitor. the new help gave general satisfaction and lottie was much amused with the girl's primitive manners, which even the associations of "sunny bank" could not altogether affect. one bright morning as the former was getting ready for school, she was accosted by melindy in the following strain: "law sakes, miss lottie, how things do come 'round. jest to think that you and the young lady that was up to mr. montgomery's happenin' to be the same identical one, and i was up to meetin' the same sunday. it seems so queer that of all places i should happen to get here. but as i say there's no tellin' what may happen." "what a coincidence it is," thought phillip, laughing as on passing through the back parlor he overheard melindy's remark. he had gone to the post-office on that morning and as he took out the contents of the well-filled box discovered a letter which on opening he saw was from marguerite. "what can have prompted her to write. it would seem as if some one else had written it. marguerite verne would as soon think of cutting her right hand off as to write me unsolicited. and for what is she grateful. it seems so ridiculous when all that i have done was to entertain myself." the young lawyer once more read over the precious missive which was written in the most simple, yet graceful style. it stirred him deeply. it recalled the fair girl in all her _spirituelle_ beauty, and made him doubly rebellious over the circumstances that thwarted all his hopes. "why was i not some heir to an earldom, for nothing less is befitting such a one," thought the young man, feeling all the bitterness that a heart can feel. strange indeed, that from the moment phillip lawson uttered these words he was a richer man, though he knew it not. he had to drink deeper of the dregs of adversity ere he shall have cause for rejoicing. marguerite gave short pithy accounts of her visit, and was quite enthusiastic over the wonderful sights that she saw on every hand; also, the walks, drives and various places of entertainment. "it's no use to think any more about it. they have at length succeeded in making her what i would have one time sworn that she never would be--a woman of the world. ah truly 'the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.' six months ago i never could have believed that marguerite verne would have yielded to such worldly influence. she seemed an angel among sinners. and she speaks of hubert tracy in such a gushing style--so foreign to the modest high-toned sentiments which always inspired me with a love of truth." "can it be possible that marguerite verne wrote that letter?" exclaimed phillip lawson, holding it up before him and scrutinizing every line. then throwing it aside, added, with a deep tone of resentment, "is it possible that one must lose all faith in humanity?" then, as if some good spirit had whispered better things, he raised his eyes and faintly exclaimed, "father forgive me, i have been sorely tempted," and set about some work with a fiercer determination than ever to make his will subservient to his reason. melindy thrasher had not seen more than a fortnight's service in the lawson family when mr. spriggins made it convenient to stay and spend the evening. phillip being called away upon business the happy pair solaced themselves in the inviting back parlor, and whiled away the hour in the way that only such lovers can when one takes into consideration the candies and peanuts that were conspicuous on this occasion. when the latch-key turned in the front door all was quiet within, and the back parlor in perfect order. faint sounds beneath the window told the indulgent master that melindy was taking leave of her lover. mr. lawson was not guilty of eavesdropping, but what could he do--the voices became more distinct. "i tell you what it is, moses spriggins, there hain't been no secrets between us afore this, and i'd like to know why you can't tell me what business took you to mr. verne's office. now you know you was there just as well as you know the head is on your body." "come, come, melindy--i ain't got no secrets from you. it's only a little bit of bisness that i was a-doin' for 'squire verne--(mr. spriggins had a habit of addressing all men of any importance by such appellation)--and it's his secret, not mine, and you can't blame a fellar for a-keepin' it when he is asked to do it, can you, melindy?" at this declaration the said melindy was somewhat mollified, but muttered something about the two being one. "wal, never mind now," said moses, "that's a dear melindy; let's make up," and suiting the action to the word the lovers made up, and melindy was satisfied that the secret did not belong to her affianced. "but hold on, melindy, how did you hear that i was at the office? that's the stickin' pint; eh, melindy, i've got you now." "i ain't a-goin' to tell you, moses spriggins; that's my secret," said melindy, affecting an air of disdain. "now you've been a-listenin', that's a sure thing, melindy, and i think it's a-cryin' out shame to do sich a mean thing." "now look here, moses spriggins; i'm not a'goin' to stand no lecturin' from you, for if you don't like it, you can git as soon as you like, for there's ben buckler would give his eye tooth to cut you out!" "come, come, melindy; we won't say anything more about it. we ain't a-goin' to be quarrelin' over nothin'." and very soon the lovers made up a second time, while the solicitor turned away, indulging in the same amount of curiosity as expressed by melindy jane thrasher. "it is strange, indeed. moses is truthful. mr. verne has some secret, and he could have no more trustworthy confidante than the self-same mr. moses spriggins," and soliloquizing thus phillip lawson sought the land of dreams-- "tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep." chapter xxix. a character is luck. "truly an interesting girl. there is a vein of good sense about her that i admire. new brunswick sends us some fine specimens of females." the man who made these remarks was not a gallant of the ninety-ninth degree, but was a sober, intellectual man of threescore-and-ten and, judging from the clear, penetrative eye, one who had seen much of the world as it is. "from st john did you say, mr. metcalfe?" "yes, sir. her father is engaged in the shipping business there, and i am told is a very fine sort of fellow. i have met miss verne several times and each time am more interested," said the old gentleman, rubbing his gold-rimmed spectacles in a way that implied "now for business." "by the way, sir; that reminds me of a case i have on hand. the mcgregor heirs are at a discount around here and our object is to hunt up a branch of the family who emigrated to new brunswick some forty years ago. "old hugh mcgregor, from whom the bulk of the property comes, was an ironmonger who at one time did a large business in glasgow, after which he removed to manchester, and resided there until his death in . "his son robert succeeded in the establishment and was prosperous, living in good style in a suburban residence five miles from manchester. "as robert mcgregor had no children the nearest heir was his sister, jessie mcgregor, who unfortunately fell in love with a young student who attended the same institution as herself. her parents becoming acquainted with the facts had her removed and forbade all intercourse; but love is stronger than bolts and bars, and the fair jessie set out to face the world with no visible means of support but her husband's blandishments. but love is strong and the fair maiden managed to eke out a subsistence and by untiring effort they were at least in comfortable circumstances, and succeeded in educating their first-born for the ministry, but ere the talented young minister had preached a season his health gave way and he was called away to reap the reward of the faithful. "the remaining child, a sweet girl of fourteen, was now the only solace of the bereaved parents, and fearing that they would also be deprived of their only joy, sold out their small property and emigrated to new brunswick, where they purchased some land, and also by carrying on some other speculation were once more in prosperity. "now," said the old lawyer, glancing up over his spectacles, "our object is to trace this girl, who is the only surviving heir of the mcgregor estate." "but on what ground do you ignore jessie mcgregor, who may yet be alive? she cannot be a centenarian yet, sir." "true," replied the former, "but robert mcgregor was aware of the fact of his sister's death some years ago. the latter was too proud to ask forgiveness for her rash act, and all intimacy ceased when she left her parent's protection, for old hugh mcgregor was a harsh, unrelenting man, whom if once thwarted could never be conciliated." "and how do you intend to proceed? have you any further information?" "none, sir--except that by some intelligence from new brunswick about ten years ago, robert mcgregor heard that his sister's child married a farmer and was comfortably settled." "there is little trouble in finding the heirs then. is the property a valuable one?" "real and personal estate amounts to something in the vicinity of forty thousand dollars." "not a bad heritage, i assure you, sir," said the other, with the least perceptible smile. a month after the above conversation took place the lawyer was interviewed by the same individual. "yes, indeed, i immediately forwarded the notice to the st. john _daily telegraph_ and to the _daily sun_, two leading journals of that city, and yesterday was rewarded by a letter from a young solicitor of that city making such inquiries about the mcgregor family that evidently shows that he is in possession of all the facts that we wish to become acquainted with." "are you at liberty to give his name. i am acquainted with the majority of st. john lawyers," said the other, feeling a lively interest in the subject. "not at present, if i were really disposed to do so," said the lawyer in the most good-natured manner. "the fact is i am not exactly in the writer's confidence myself. he wishes, no doubt, to communicate farther with some of the family in question ere he gives himself publicity." "a sensible young man, indeed," ventured the new brunswicker, for such he evidently was in his unconventional aspect and easy-going habits. on the evening of the same day the same gentlemen held a second conversation, but this time it was not in a dingy lawyer's office. the scene was a neat and pretty drawing-room, with all the necessary adornments native to such an apartment, and also a higher class of adornment--that of several interesting and fascinating women. "home, sweet home," exclaimed mr. metcalfe, taking up the newspaper which marguerite verne had just laid aside. "i see you don't forget our old sheets. well, they _do_ look familiar." "i must be very deeply engaged when i cannot find time to run over the _telegraph_ and _sun_--the former i have read since i was able to spell the words. it occupies a warm spot in my affections," said marguerite, smiling, while the soft roseate blushes rose in sweet confusion upon her face. "you are a grit, i presume, miss verne," said the host. "i see that your favorite journal advocates that policy?" "i cannot say that i am, mr. stanhope. i have many friends on that side, but really my sympathies go with the present government." "then you should transfer your affections to its leading new brunswick organ, miss verne," said the new brunswicker. "i admire it upon principle, sir. but pardon me, i am not versed in politics, and cannot express myself upon the subject," exclaimed marguerite, taking up the _sun_ to have a second glance at the locals which graced its columns. "not versed in politics, marguerite! do i hear aright?" cried a vivacious and interesting maiden of medium height and fair proportion, with an air of hauteur in her bearing characteristic of a model english girl. the speaker was the lawyer's only daughter--a clever conversationalist and well read in all those branches of literature which elevate and ennoble the mind, and if applied to the female character make woman more than a kind of being that can only talk about what she eats, drinks, and more than all, what she wears and what her neighbor wears; discuss the latest bit of scandal and take a superficial view of everything upon which she languidly condescends to pass judgment. "miss verne is an out-and-out conservative, i can assure you," said mr. metcalfe, who now came to the relief of his countrywoman with a feeling of pride. "she can advocate the national policy in a manner that would gain over the most stubborn grit." "ah! mr. metcalfe, please do not over-rate my abilities in that respect," said marguerite in a manner which coolly implied that she did not wish to get up such an argument as she certainly must if confronted by the strong grit views of her interesting and witty companion. "never mind, marguerite, we will not measure weapons this time," cried the former, "but i must try to shake some of the tory off before we have done with you. remember i have made more than one staunch liberal convert." marguerite laughed at the girl's spirit of enthusiasm and thought "what a power is woman when her energies are directed aright?" then her thoughts took rapid flight to another and different subject. she was thinking if it were possible for woman to exert her influence in the manner she would like that the end would justify the means. "not that exactly," mused the maiden as she thought of--but, perhaps, it is better we do not unearth marguerite verne's thoughts at that moment. she is doubtless sensitive, let us act accordingly and turn to other subjects. there was a sweet simplicity in her attire on this evening. her dress of pale-blue bunting was plain indeed, and save the silver bracelets upon her beautifully-rounded arms, there was no other attempt at ornament. her cheeks were pale, and a shade thinner than usual, and to this fact the girl may attribute her liberty or rather freedom from the giddy rounds of dissipation into which she was reluctantly forced from morn to dewy eve and from dewy eve to rising morn. mrs. verne had to acknowledge that her daughter's health was getting impaired, and that nothing but rest would restore her former strength, therefore consented that marguerite should spend a few days with the young lady whom she met and became on intimate terms during a short time spent on one of the steamers plying between liverpool and belfast. edith stanhope, as we have hitherto intimated, was a bright, witty english girl, and her companionship was healthful and invigorating. she admired the gentle, winning, child-like ways of the new brunswick maiden, and together they formed a pretty picture. mr. stanhope had been a widower for many years, his household affairs being managed by a maiden sister, whose affection for the child edith increased as the latter grew to womanhood, and nowhere could be found a more peaceful, inviting and cosy little nest than that of the much esteemed and venerable lawyer--charles stanhope, of cheapside. edith stanhope had reached the age of twenty-one, and still "in maiden meditation fancy free." her life was an undisturbed and peaceful dream--her days an enjoyable round of simple domestic pleasure, broken in upon now and then by a few of the young schoolmates or companions of her childhood. how keenly marguerite then felt the difference of their respective positions as she glanced up from the newspaper and saw the real happiness that shone so steadily upon the girl's countenance, while she, wearied with the gaieties of life, was yearning--oh! so longingly--for the real domestic happiness that she must never realize. "marguerite verne, am i to attribute that gaze to fond admiration or pertinent curiosity?" cried edith, going up to her friend and playfully shaking her by the shoulders. "to neither, edith," said marguerite, almost sadly, "but to a worse trait in my character--to jealousy," and the short sigh fell faintly upon edith's quick and acute ear. "to jealousy, you minx," cried the latter, who had a habit of repeating the speaker's words, which, in many cases, gave more effect to her arguments. "to jealousy, indeed. is it because i have the audacity to address your countryman, 'whose way of life is fallen into the sere, and yellow leaf'," replied she, her eyes sparkling with animation and keen enjoyment. "thank you for the quotation, edith," said marguerite, running her small, delicate fingers through the meshes of her friend's golden-brown hair. the reply was interrupted by an exclamation of the new brunswicker. "miss verne i presume you have read both editorials. is it not amusing how each goes for the other." "yes, mr. metcalfe, but i must confess that i am somewhat like a lady whom i once heard say, 'well, dear me, i think everything in the _telegraph_ is all gospel until i take up the _sun_ and it upsets every speck of belief as fast as it went up. dear me, i wish i knew which side was genuine, for both cannot be truth.'" a general laugh followed and edith stanhope exclaimed, "i think that your friend must have been on the fence, marguerite." "yes, and watching to see which side to jump on in the coming election," cried the old lawyer who had hitherto remained a listener. a burst of merriment arose from the trio on the other side of the room and rang out in peals of laughter. "oh, papa, you naughty man to make such an unscrupulous remark about one of our sex," cried edith, assuming an air of injured innocence and trying to look very severe. "i take it all back my dear. come let us have some music. it is too bad to be wasting so much time when one has an opportunity of having so much ability on hand." "do you allude to marguerite or myself, papa," cried edith gaily, while she arose and playfully led her companion, to the piano. "it is dangerous to say much here unless one very carefully considers ere he speaks," said the fond father, casting a glance at his daughter that was worthy of the most ardent lover. "well, well, papa, you will go scot-free this time. of course marguerite will favor us." the latter needed no coaxing. she played a selection of old-fashioned airs that were more appreciated than the most brilliant fantasia or classic opera. then followed a few of the songs she used to sing for her father and one which had caused the heart of phillip lawson to beat wildly as he stood listening to the voice he loved so well and bitterly thought of the world that lay between him and his buried love. "miss verne, you have certainly much power of expression," said the new brunswick gentleman as the last note had died away, and, edith stanhope sat silent as if fearing to break the spell. "i seldom sing except to amuse my father, and the class of music i practise is simple," was the quiet reply. a young girl attended by a gentleman several years her senior, now entered the room. the former was edith stanhope's favorite cousin, and the latter was a distant relative, who was home on a vacation from a neighboring town, where he held a responsible position in a banking establishment. "ah, my fair cousin; and you have condescended to come at last," ejaculated edith, embracing the latter, and then extending her hand to the gentleman, exclaimed, "and you, frank, it is time that you presented yourself. just think, you have been here nearly a week--" "not so hard, cousin edith. your humble servant arrived on monday, and this, i believe, is wednesday." "that's right, my boy, defend yourself," said mr. stanhope, looking proudly upon the fair group around him. as conversation set in lively and amusement was the order of the day, mr. stanhope and his friend quietly sat and looked on, occasionally answering to some of the sallies sent off at their expense. a servant now entered with the evening mail, and assorting the pile mr. stanhope passed to mr. metcalfe the two provincial dailies. "the very information i was seeking," cried the latter in excited tones. "just read that." mr. stanhope glanced at the article in question and seemed lost in amazement; then hastily exclaimed: "it is wonderful how these fellows get things so soon. the matter has indeed gained publicity, and the young fellow need hesitate no longer." "miss verne will no doubt be able to give you much information, as the young lawyer is quite popular in her native city. i may have known of him, but i'm inclined to think he has established himself since i left st. john." mr. stanhope passed the newspaper to marguerite, who, for some unaccountable reason, felt more curiosity than she was willing to acknowledge. as she silently read the paragraph a tremor passed through her frame, and her heart began to throb wildly, but no emotion was visible. "i am quite well acquainted with mr. lawson. he is a very great friend of my father's," were the words that rose to the girl's lips when she had gained courage to speak. "that is splendid," exclaimed edith, who now became interested in the matter; "i suppose he is young, and handsome beside," added she in a different tone. "keep that part of it to yourself, miss verne," said mr. metcalfe, in a tantalizing manner; "miss edith is not going to rob new brunswick's daughters of what is theirs by right." "but if the fortune be forthcoming here we should insist that the heir give some fair one here the benefit of it," cried edith, who thought she had the best side of the argument. "don't quarrel over this matter, i pray," said the distant relative with a merry twinkle in his eye, "i am going to ship for st. john one of these days, and will, if possible, visit the mcgregor heir and make him acquainted with the designs of my fair saxon edith." "and you will exonerate miss verne from any complicity in the matter." "most certainly i do," said the relative, while marguerite verne hurried carelessly away to hide the tell-tale blushes which sooner or later would betray her. chapter xxx. financial embarrassment. and now let us turn to mr. verne, who is in a sad state of physical prostration. the financial storm which overhung his daily prospect has at last swooped down upon him in merciless fury, hurling down every hope that hitherto buoyed him up and whispered encouraging words as he struggled on. mr. verne had shut himself in his private apartments and asked that he might be left alone. but ere long he was besieged by interviewers. reporters, anxious to give the full benefit of the sad disaster to the clamoring public, who must know to a farthing the amount of the liabilities, and, of course, the assets. but before "morning wore into evening" mr. verne had the comforting assurance of a sympathetic heart. mrs. montgomery had a telegram conveying news of the assignment, and in a few hours she was at home in "sunnybank," trying every means within her power to console her stricken brother-in-law. "it will never do to allow him to give up in this manner," said the true-hearted woman in a conversation with an old and tried friend of the family. "something must be done to rouse him." on the same evening a _globe_ containing the news of the failure was handed to mr. verne as he sat with bowed head gazing mechanically at the list of figures before him. the notice was favorable to the man of business. it spoke of the sterling integrity of stephen verne, and showed that the disastrous crash was from circumstances over which he had no control. the cause of the assignment, it said, was due to the uncertainty of the moneys due him. the liabilities were large, but the assets would nearly cover them, and one thing was certain, the estate would not hold back one cent. "thank god," cried mr. verne as he threw down the paper and once more folded his arms across his breast, looking, as indeed he was, a total physical wreck. but human charity is not common to the general public, nor among the weaker sex. "what will the vernes do now without their grand carriages and retinue of servants? that stuck up old mrs. verne will have to go into the work herself, and do as other people, and not be sticking on any more airs or she will get snubbed up pretty often." "yes, and i wonder how she will manage her trains now going through the kitchen when it was almost impossible for her to get along the aisle in trinity." "pride always has a fall," chimed in another. it was indeed a noteworthy fact that throughout the whole range of uncharitable remarks made upon the matter not one syllable was uttered against marguerite. on the contrary she excited the compassion of the most callous- hearted. "poor marguerite, she will feel it bitterly." "yes, most of all, for she loved her father dearly. it will almost break her heart to see him looking so ill." "it was none of her doings i assure you. i have seen much of miss verne, and have learned that her tastes are of the most simple kind, and if she had her own way they would have lived in a more quiet style than that of sunnybank." the speaker was an intelligent woman of the middle class, whose business brought her in daily contact with the young lady, and she had thus formed a correct opinion of her. mrs. montgomery did not wish to intrude upon the privacy of the stricken man, but she saw that he must be aroused from his apathy. "it will kill him sooner or later," thought she, "but he must live to see a change for the better." "stephen, you have not written matilda. it is better that she should know at once," said the woman, taking a seat beside her brother-in-law, and placing her hand upon his shoulder as gently as if he were an infant. "god bless you, hester, i am not alone; i yet have warm friends, let the world say what it will." mr. verne's frame shook with emotion, and the tears stood in his eyes--a pitiable sight to the friend beside him. "the world may say that you are an unfortunate man, stephen, but it cannot say that you are a dishonest one," said the woman, cheerily; "and remember, stephen," added she, "it is partly to the delinquency of others that you owe this." "true, indeed, hester," said mr. verne, brightening up, "had they given me time i would have redeemed every dollar of my common debts, but as it is now, every cent's worth of property i own shall go into the assignee's possession as assets, for the benefit of each and every creditor." "why, then, take such a gloomy view of the affair, stephen? hundreds have been in the same position and came out all right in the end, and i see no reason why you should form an exception." "that is true enough, hester, but i feel that i am going downward." and as mr. verne spoke he shut his teeth very firmly as if suffering intense pain. mrs. montgomery was quick to detect the cause, but she made no comment upon it. prom the woman's heart went up a fervent prayer that heaven would avert the threatening blow, and that quiet and content would yet reign in the now desolate home. it was only by the utmost persuasion that mr. verne could be induced to eat a morsel of food. "you are doing yourself a great injustice, stephen. think what you owe to your family. think of marguerite. surely you will break her heart." "ah, hester, you have spoken truly. i must bear up for the sake of my child; but oh god, it is hard to be branded in the eyes of the world as a rogue and a scoundrel. mothers will curse me, and the orphan's wail will haunt me throughout time and eternity!" once more mr. verne placed his hand against his breast as if to ease the spasmodic pain which had then seized him. "he is going fast," murmured mrs. montgomery, as she noted the livid lips and pallid face that followed the spasm. "this cup of coffee will tempt anybody, and the rolls are delicious; just taste one, stephen." "i was thinking of my darling child, hester; how do you think she will bear the news? and to think of her being exposed to the scoffs of the world. hester, i can stand anything but that," and the groans that followed were agonizing. "stephen, i have more faith in marguerite than you have. if you think she will mope and worry herself to death you are sadly mistaken." then in assuring tones added, "i do not wish to hurt your feelings, stephen, but i firmly believe that as regards the financial trouble, marguerite will not care a straw. she is not one of your namby-pamby girls, whom you could dress up and put under a glass case to look at. no, marguerite is a rational, human being, capable of taking her place in the world, and looking misfortune in the face with a determination to succeed in whatever she may attempt." "hester, you are a student of human nature. you are capable of judging aright. god grant that my child may meet this trouble as you predict," said mr. verne, as he tried to swallow the food which had been so temptingly prepared by the ministering angel who now strove to make smooth the hard, rough pathway over which he now daily trod. it was mrs. montgomery's hard, strong hand, that penned the lines conveying the news to marguerite. "i news comes soon enough." was the former's remark, "and we can afford to await the next mail." as the important missive is on its way across the broad waters of the atlantic, let us take the liberty of intruding upon the privacy of the mother and daughter who are still occupying their handsome suite of apartments in picadilly square. marguerite had returned from "ivy cottage," the pretty little home of the stanhope family, feeling much stronger and looking brighter and more cheerful. "mamma," exclaimed the girl looking intently into the handsome face. "i have been thinking so much of home lately that it seems as if i had room for no other thoughts, and, oh, you cannot imagine how much i want to see papa." marguerite made a striking picture reclining beside her mother, and one arm resting on her knee. her delicate morning wrapper lay in graceful folds around her, and reminded one of the draperies of a venus de medici. what a world of expression was in the violet eyes as they pleaded for the return to the dreary cheerless home. what a depth of meaning lay in the purely oval face so beautifully defined in every lineament. what nature could withstand marguerite verne's entreaties? "my dear, i am thinking just as much about home as you are, but i keep it to myself. it is impossible for us to go for another month, and you know we have promised sir arthur to make a visit at his country seat--a beautiful spot i am told." "surely mamma, you did not expect me to go there. i cannot endure the thoughts of coming in contact with that disagreeable man," and marguerite shrugged her shoulders in unaffected disgust. "marguerite, i am ashamed to think that i have a child capable of such ingratitude. it is enough for evelyn to become obstinate and oppose me in everything, but, really, i did not expect it of you." at this point mrs. verne became deeply affected, and very much inclined to cry, but she thought such a course inopportune and availed farther provocation. "has eve been here lately, mamma," asked marguerite, suddenly. "if you have any respect to me please don't mention her to me again, madge. i have done everything for that girl that a fond, idolized mother could do, and what is my reward? base ingratitude of the worst kind. talk of mothers; what do they live for; and mrs. verne stood with clenched hands, looking, indeed, a living representation of one of the three furies. "mamma, dear, do not look like that, i cannot bear to see you thus," cried marguerite, catching hold of the fold of the cashmere gown and attempting to draw her mother towards her. "i cannot help it, madge, when my children are so disobedient. surely you cannot have forgotten the teachings of that book, which says, 'children obey your parents in the lord' for this is the first commandment with promise. oh, it is so hard to think that my children have such unchristian spirits." "come mamma, let us think of something else for a little while, and then we will both act differently," said marguerite, trying to appear more cheerful than the circumstance would admit. "i may just as well tell you once for all, madge, that nothing will conciliate me but your acceptance of sir arthur's kind invitation which we can forward without delay." marguerite remained in silence for some moments. she was sorely tried, yet she brought reason to bear upon every point at issue. "if i go," reasoned she, "sir arthur will think that i give him encouragement, and that would be acting dishonestly, and again if i do not go mamma will have her feelings so deeply outraged that i fear the consequence. oh! that i were once more in the protecting arms of my dear, dear father." the girl then thought of the lonely, silent man, plodding on so patiently amid the daily straggles of life, and her heart went out in deep fervent sympathy. presently her mind was made up. going straight to her mother's dressing room, whither the latter had retreated in a state bordering on madness, marguerite threw her arms out in imploring gesture and stood for a moment, then exclaimed between tears and sobs, "mamma, do not judge me harshly, i want to do what is right--but it is so hard." mrs. verne saw that her daughter was relenting, and uttered not a word. "mamma, dear, give me time and i will prove a dutiful daughter." she was going to say more when a servant entered with a note, which from its negligent appearance was evidently written in much haste. it was from mrs. montague arnold, and contained only a few hurried sentences, so unintelligible that marguerite did not attempt to interpret them. "i will go at once, mamma," said the latter, "and see what is the trouble. poor eve, she seems always in some fuss." as mr. arnold's residence was only a short distance, marguerite was there in a very few minutes after the delivery of the note. "oh, madge, how can i tell you; i know it will break your heart. oh, poor papa? oh! madge--is it not dreadful?" "what do you mean, eve?" cried marguerite, her ashen face sufficient proof of the shock she had already undergone. "speak, eve; for heaven's sake tell me the worst. is papa dead?" "oh worse than that, madge--worse than that. death is nothing in comparison!" "eve, i cannot stand this horrible suspense; for mercy sake, i implore you tell me the truth," cried the girl, her bosom heaving wildly and her limbs trembling so that she had to grasp the mantel beside her for support. mrs. arnold then pulled the bell-rope and a servant, or rather page, answered the summons. "bring me that package of letters lying on the small cabinet in my boudoir," said she, with as much nonchalance as if nothing of any importance occupied her thoughts. the boy returned and presented the desired package on a small and unique silver salver, lined with gold and enamel. "here it is, madge," said mrs. arnold, passing a somewhat lengthy telegram into the girl's hand. the latter run her eye hastily over the contents and turned deathly pale. "poor, dear, papa!" were all the words she could say, when an icy chill ran through the delicate frame, and the tender-hearted daughter fell into a deadly swoon. mrs. arnold did feel something akin to pity when she saw the graceful form prostrate at her feet, and as she stooped down and took the cold hand in hers, murmured "poor little madge--you were not fashioned for this decidedly calculating world. your heart is too tender--far too tender." "you must be brave, madge," said mrs. arnold, on seeing marguerite restored to something of her former self. "i'm afraid you would be more of a drawback to papa at present than a help." but marguerite was of a different opinion. "oh! if i were only near him, to comfort him," thought she, "i could indeed do something. my sadness to-day was but a presentiment of this. oh, dear! will i ever see papa alive again!" "papa will be all right, madge. it is to yourself you must now look, for more depends upon you now than you at present realize." "you speak in enigmas, eve. tell me what you mean," cried marguerite, in a bewildered sort of way. "i will wait until you are a little stronger, madge. go home now and tell mamma what has happened; i know she will act like a sensible woman. you know, madge, she is always composed. i verily believe," added mrs. arnold, "that mamma would feel at ease if all the friends she had committed suicide, or died from some fearful epidemic." "don't talk about mamma in that way, eve; i cannot bear to listen." mrs. arnold thought just then that the girl would listen to something, perhaps to her, far more disagreeable, but she held her peace. poor marguerite. all prospect of happiness had now fled from her vision. she saw instead sorrow, disappointment, and, perhaps, death. "if papa survives the shock i will face the world, and, amid poverty, and the slights of my former companions, i will toil--yes, i will work at anything that i can do in honesty." and with this high resolve marguerite set forth to break the sad news to her worldly-minded mother. chapter xxxi. the storm thickens. it would be much easier to imagine than describe the violent paroxysms of grief (if we may use the expression) which seized upon mrs. verne when marguerite calmly broke the unwelcome news. grief did we say--yes--"not the grief that saps the mind," but grief for the deprivation of those luxuries which the woman had considered as part and parcel of herself. "it is just what one might have expected from the loose way in which your father has been transacting his business," cried mrs. verne, wringing her hands, and lamenting wildly; and then turning upon her daughter the full benefit of her penetrating eyes, added, "and it is not himself that will suffer the most, but think of us madge. how nice you will look going out to earn your living, perhaps, behind some counter, or worse still, apprenticed to a dressmaker and blinding yourself over such rags as we would not condescend to put on, nor, more than that, recognize the people to whom they belonged." after this harangue, mrs. verne threw herself into the elegant fauteuil of carved ebony and oriental tapestry, and poured forth another volume of tears more prolific than the first. "mamma, dear, what is the use of all this. the affair is bad enough, but it might be a great deal worse. papa is still alive and we can live just as happily on a small income as indulging in such luxury. really, my dear mamma, i feel that we are going to be much happier. i need not, as you remarked, have to submit to any great drudgery, i can teach music and painting, thanks to those kind instructors who took such pains in my education, and if i fail to make that kind of work remunerative, why i can easily fit myself for a school-teacher." "marguerite verne!" cried the horrified mother, raising her hands in gestures of dismay, "you will drive me mad! a daughter of mine a school-teacher! oh! dear, did i ever think i would raise a child to inherit such plebeian ideas. bad as evelyn is with all her faults she would not hurt my feelings in such a manner." marguerite looked at her mother with a feeling of compassion, yet there were rebellious thoughts in her mind. "is it possible that mamma forgets poor dear papa, who is most to be pitied?" murmured she, as she strove to hide the tears that would flow in spite of all her efforts. "and only to think of your papa's slackness. i shouldn't wonder one bit if he gave up every cent's worth of property, and all the furniture into the bargain. it is just such a trick as he would do, for the sake of being called an honest man. yes, it is very nice to hear people talking of 'honesty being the best of policy' where no one is concerned in the matter; but when it comes home, i say a man's first honesty is to his family." "pray, mamma dear, do not worry over our worldly loss; it will all come right," whispered marguerite, in tones of endearment, and stroking the luxuriant mass of silken hair that crowned the pretty, classic-shaped head. "well, i hope so, madge; but i am sorry that i cannot entertain your very convenient sort of opinion," returned mrs. verne, in a half angry and petulant mood; then rising from her seat, took up a piece of crewel embroidery, saying, "i suppose if i have to turn out and earn my living i had better begin at once," and suiting the action to the word, was soon busily engaged in making some pretty stitches upon the handsome panel of rich garnet-colored velvet. while marguerite sat buried in deep thought, turning over and over in her mind what she must do, an attendant arrived with a letter. "it is from aunt hester," cried she, as she broke the seal and eagerly devoured its contents. "it's just like her," said mrs. verne, as marguerite passed the letter for her to read. "yes, she is one of job's comforters, and will make your papa feel a great deal worse than there is any need. of course, she will be preaching day and night of our extravagance, and make him believe that we alone are the cause of all his misfortune--i should say, mismanagement." "i think it was very kind of aunt hester to come to papa when he was so lonely," replied marguerite, with a choking sensation in her throat. "yes, and it is a great wonder she did not say that _her friend, mr. lawson_, was one of the company, for it seems that not one of the whole montgomery family can exist without him." mrs. verne had emphasized the word friend in a very uncharitable manner, and her tone was spiteful in the extreme. "of course that letter means come home at once, but i think it would make us appear very ridiculous to go until some settlement was made and the gossips had their nine days' wonder over," said she in a very cool and decided manner. "mamma, dear, let us not delay one hour more than is necessary," cried marguerite clinging to her mother's arm as if to gain assent. "we surely can be ready for the next steamer of the anchor line (the olympian) which sails on saturday." "what nonsense, marguerite! and only think of sir arthur's disappointment! poor man! it is such a pity, and we have received such kindness." mrs. verne drew a long sigh and then added in an altered tone: "if your papa insists upon our return we shall go, but i cannot see why your aunt hester should take upon herself to dictate to us." "we will, no doubt, hear from papa as well. you know, mamma, he owes me a letter now," said marguerite, hopefully. a caller was now announced and lady gertrude fortescue, in her beauty and amiability, was ushered in with all the deference due her rank and position. mrs. verne was intoxicated with delight as she thought of the great honor thus conferred upon her, and she soon forgot all her recent trouble in the sunshine of her ladyship's smiles. "miss verne is certainly deserving of our most bitter hate!" cried the latter in affected severity. "you know we english women cannot tolerate a rival and this clever little canadian (pointing to marguerite) has outshone us all." marguerite was indulging in thoughts of a different nature, but she managed to reply to her ladyship, and occasionally ventured a remark upon some trivial matters. "you will be at the reception to-night, my dear?" exclaimed the blonde beauty as she rose to go. mrs. verne glanced at her daughter for answer and was pained to see the utter serenity of the pale but interesting face. "miss verne has been slightly indisposed to-day and i fear that she will plead that as excuse to remain with muggins." "you naughty little thing," said her ladyship, poking the said muggins with the top of her parasol and exciting lively responses from his poodleship, then turning to mrs. verne exclaimed, "mrs. arnold is looking well. it really seems to me that you canadians have found the long-sought elixir of youth and beauty." "you are inclined to flattery lady gertrude, but if you should ever visit new brunswick you will find many pretty women." "now, my dear mrs. verne, _you_ are inclined to teaze," cried her ladyship. you know full well that it is the gentlemen in whom i am solely interested. what have you to say in _their_ behalf." "new brunswick can boast of many handsome, brave and clever men," was the reply, and this time mrs. verne spoke the truth. "oh well, i shall, perhaps, go and see for myself. good-bye mrs. verne, and you my little rival, adieu until we meet again." her ladyship pressed the tips of her dainty fingers and playfully threw a kiss to marguerite as she leaned against the balustrade and watched her visitor depart. "what a sweet but sad face," thought the latter, as she was being assisted into the grand old family coach with its richly-caparisoned steeds and gay trappings. "to hyde park, james," then leaning back amid the luxurious cushions the almond-eyed beauty murmured "that girl has a tender spot in her heart which all the pleasures and gaiety of a thousand worlds like this can never heal. ah, well we women must endure," and with the last remark there arose a sad and weary look that would seem strangely at variance the gay, sporting butterfly who talked and chatted of airy nothings in mrs. verne's drawing-room. and now to marguerite. she has donned her tasteful gray walking costume and accompanied by muggins is on the way to mrs. arnold's residence, not far distant. "i am so glad you have come, madge, i was just going to send for you. my head has ached all morning. i can think of nothing but dear papa. just imagine him without a cent in the world, and at his age. oh, it is too horrible for anything." mrs. arnold now drew her elegant lace handkerchief across her eyes to arrest the falling tears. marguerite was accustomed to her sister's demonstrations, and was not at all affected as she should be. "madge, you are aware, i suppose, of the trouble between mamma and me, and now i have no one but you to offer any sympathy." marguerite looked at her sister in surprise. "you need not look that way, madge, i mean it, and when you have--" mrs. arnold checked herself. she was on the eve of a declaration which she must at all hazards supress. "i say it is most cruel of mamma to treat me in the way that she does. really, madge, it makes me feel terribly; and oh! poor, dear, papa! i don't know why it should affect me so strangely, but really, madge, i cannot get it out of my head but that papa is going to die." "oh, eve!" cried marguerite, clinging to her chair for support, "pray do not say such a dreadful thing." "well, you know, madge, that grief will sap all the vitality of stronger constitutions than papa's." mrs. arnold sat watching the effect of her words upon her sister, and tried to be engaged assorting some letters that had been misplaced in her desk. "if it were only in my power to save papa such trouble i would make any sacrifice," cried the latter, suddenly glancing at marguerite. "and would i not, too? oh! eve," said the girl, with an eager, hungry look upon her face. "you can _now_, if you wish, madge," said mrs. arnold, in the coolest possible manner. "eve, this is too serious a matter for jesting. you know not what you say," cried marguerite, wildly. "i know that you can pay every cent of papa's debts if you will only marry hubert tracy!" "eve! spare me!" exclaimed marguerite, turning deadly pale. "yes, my dear--i knew full well that you could not make such a sacrifice. why did i mention it. forgive me, dear madge, i shall never mention the subject again. i told hubert that i knew it was useless for him to urge the suit." "and he has spoken of it lately?" cried marguerite. "not later than this morning, my dear. he called a few moments after you went away, and seemed to be in great distress at papa's misfortune. poor fellow, he was deeply moved, and said that if you would only consent to be his wife that his immense fortune would be at your entire control. what a pity, dear madge, that you cannot treat him as he deserves--he is such a generous-hearted fellow." marguerite verne was, indeed, an object of pity as she sat with her eyes fixed upon the wall opposite, while a look of anguish now settled down upon her features, and made them rigid as death. "don't worry, darling. i cannot bear to see you thus. if hubert tracy is not willing to settle papa's affairs without sacrificing your happiness, why let it go. papa may get over it, and if he has to face the world and earn his living by drudgery, it may do him good in the end; if not, we cannot help it, my dear: so don't worry any longer." and mrs. arnold swept across the room with the air of an empress, while with her lace handkerchief she wiped the tears from marguerite's eyes. "has hubert tracy the full control of his estates, eve?" "yes, madge. he has had ever since his uncle died, which was more than three months ago." "poor dear papa," murmured the girl in very bitterness of soul. "she will come to it yet," thought mrs. arnold, "nothing succeeds like moderation," and with the most consummate adroitness commenced asking questions concerning her mother. "you know, madge, that mamma is so much wrapped up in sir arthur, the ugly old bore, that she can listen to no one else, and for no other reason than to have you addressed as 'my lady.'" "oh eve, do not say that." "i _will_ say it madge, and more than that i will say that mamma has no more respect for her children's feeling than for those of her meanest servant. she would think it splendid to marry you to a gouty old baronet old enough to be your father, yes your grandfather, while i would not insist upon your favoring a handsome young man with wealth and a large heart into the bargain." "eve, you do mamma a great injustice," cried marguerite, who be it said to her credit, always defended the absent one, "she already knows my feelings towards sir arthur and has used no coercion since and now that we are soon going home there is no need of referring to the affair." marguerite was annoyed and her sister saw that she had said enough, so with diplomatic tact, she became doubly tractable and tried to appear in sympathy with every word that the girl uttered. "are you going to accompany us to the opera this evening, madge? my amiable husband, anxious to make reparation for past neglect, has formed a set and i must certainly go." marguerite was pained at her sister's composure and thought of the protestations of grief she had hitherto exhibited. "is it possible," thought she, "that eve can dissemble so much?" then turning to her sister she exclaimed: "eve, i cannot go; i am miserable enough already and--" "i see how it is, madge, you are inclined to be selfish, and cannot bear to see the happiness of others." "happiness!" murmured the girl, "as if there is much happiness under all this false glittering surface." but mrs. arnold heeded not the remark and added: "poor mamma, i know she feels badly, i will ask montague to call and invite her to join us. i know i did wrong to say so much, but at times you know, dear madge, i have an ungovernable temper." "i am going now," said marguerite rising and holding out her hand to mrs. arnold. "i know madge well enough to perceive that she will have no peace of mind this night. how she will brood over what i nave said!" and turning to the spacious mirror mrs. arnold exclaimed, "ah! madame, you can dupe more clever minds than that of your confiding little sister." in the quiet of her own room marguerite verne gave full vent to her pent-up feelings in an outburst of tears. hers was not a nature that could endure with fortitude the ills that oftentimes befall humanity; but like the fragile reed that bends with the storm, and when the force of nature has spent itself raises its head heavenward. and now the girl was prostrated, and bowed her head in keenest agony. she wished not the interruption of mother or friends, but remained silent and preoccupied. on the third day in question a reaction set in, and marguerite had made up her mind to act. "i am reconciled to my fate," murmured the girl, as she carefully arranged her pretty morning toilet, and then went to her mother's apartments to receive the extremely conventional style of endearment. "you should have been with us, my dear," exclaimed mrs. verne, as she glanced at the interesting maiden, and thought that grief, if anything, made her more bewitching. "you should have been there, dear," cried she in ecstasies of unfeigned delight. "it was such a charming little coterie, and the dear girl has such a happy knack of making her friends appear at ease, while montague is so attentive that with all his faults one can forgive him, and admire his highly-polished manners. and you should have seen lady gertrude, my dear. she looked radiant in that _eau de nil_ satin and honiton-lace flounces, but really i think that her ladyship is very forward, as she certainly was making love to mr. tracy and using all her blandishments with a master stroke." "and what matters that to me," thought marguerite, though she expressed it not she was puzzled to know what had wrought such a change in her mother, as the latter talked of dear eve and mr. tracy in one breath and seemed enthusiastic over each particular. in order to explain the cause of mrs. verne's altered manner we would have to repeat a conversation which a few hours earlier took place in mrs. montague arnold's boudoir with mother and daughter as occupants. suffice it to say that a reconciliation was effected, and that mrs. verne agreed to everything advanced by her daughter, also that they were now united in a common cause, and that sir arthur fonister was ruthlessly cast aside for a more profitable consideration, and one which would gratify the wants and wishes of both. "but enough of this for the present, my dear," said mrs. verne, then instantly changing look, tone and manner, exclaimed, "it is strange that we have not heard from home. madge, i trust, things are not growing worse. indeed, i feel uneasy, but we must be prepared; nothing seems improbable nowadays." it was marguerite's turn now to speak. looking steadily into her mother's face she asked, "mamma, did eve tell you what had passed between her and mr. tracy?" "yes, dearest, and i begged that she would think no more of the matter. when she declared that she would make double such sacrifice for her dear papa, i told her that i believed she would, but that she was of a different disposition from you, and would suit herself to circumstances, and besides she is of a strong mind and possessed of much will, and is capable of smoothing all difficulties, while you, my dear madge, are a tender, sensitive creature, whom it would be more than cruel to submit to anything contrary to your wishes." "mamma, i am capable of more than you think. i have never looked upon hubert tracy otherwise than a friend. indeed i have friends whom i like very much better, but i will receive him as my future husband, and try to do the best i can to repay him for unreciprocated love." with these words died all the hopes that marguerite hitherto vainly cherished, and as she received her mother's warm embrace, her heart seemed to have suddenly turned to ice, and her breath more chilling than the piercing blasts of the frigid zone. chapter xxxii. montague arnold in difficulty. scene, a london club-room. it is an early hour and the dons of the gay metropolis have not yet put in an appearance. the handsomely-furnished rooms are almost silent while the endless array of porters and waiters are on the alert, and cooks are busy in getting up the various epicurean compounds for which they are noted and to which the gay votaries of these resorts are ever ready to pay devoted attention. "what! here already, chum? you've kept your word for once." montague arnold was somewhat inebriated but still in full possession of his senses. hubert tracy glanced moodily at his companion and muttered something in the fashion of an oath, then exclaimed, "and a deuced hard time i had to get here." he was dressed in the most elaborate style and notwithstanding his irregular habits was a prepossessing young man. his chestnut curls gave a romantic look to his well-shaped head and would have elicited the admiration of many a fair maiden. "let us have what you want to say, mont." "i'm afraid that you're not in the listening humor, boy," said the other with an ill-at-ease look and manner. "i ought to be pretty well used to it by this time," was the reply. "well, the truth of it is i'm on the rocks again and you must get me off somehow. cursed fool that i was to risk my last ten thousand!" "yes, and a kind of a fool that never sees his folly until too late," exclaimed hubert tracy, in anything but sympathetic tones. "heap on the agony, my boy! i can stand more than that!" said the other taking a cigar from the elaborate case and puffing the fantastic wreath of smoke into all visible space. "it's no use for you to be fighting against fate any longer. you can't keep up this thing forever. mont, your last venture was a failure. what do you expect from this?" "as true as the heavens are above us you will be more than repaid. i have spoken to eve and she says that you can count on her sure. yes, sir, you're one of the family already." "remember, mont arnold, if you fail now, when i need you most, there will be the devil to pay." the young man gave his companion a look that almost startled him, then added, "if i am fooled, mont, there will be a just retribution." "good-heavens! don't look like that, boy; you would freeze a fellow to the very joints and marrow; besides, there is no need of it now, when you have everything your own way. why, man, the old dame has thrown over sir arthur." "egad, i thought as much, from the way the old clown, glared at me last night at the plough and harrow." "plough and harrow! what the deuce took you _there_?" "to see the country lasses have a glass of hot punch, and hear the orations of the country squires." "and my would-be brother was representing his fair estate." "representing the gout, more like, for as he got tipsy i could see him wince, and when an old yeoman, with a big red head, made light by the whiskey, fell over our friend, he roared louder than a calf." "it's all up with him and my precious mother, at any rate," said montague arnold, twisting his waxed moustache into the most artistic style, and laughing vociferously. wine was now passed around, and both gentlemen became extremely amiable. family matters were discussed and confidences were exchanged, and montague arnold received a cheque for _five_ thousand dollars "to straighten him out once more," as he expressed it, until he could make some settlement of his own financial resources. montague arnold was not in want. he was possessed of a large income, but owing to his extravagant living and dissipated habits, his demands were daily becoming more pressing; and when he had staked ten thousand dollars at the gambling table and lost, nothing but the helping hand of hubert tracy could save him. the dissipated husband became very happy and at the same time very garrulous. he discussed several of mrs. verne's qualities both as negative and positive quantities, but more particularly the former, and then referred to marguerite. it may be said in justice to montague arnold that he considered her the living embodiment of womanly perfection, and though leading a fast life and seeing much of the grosser side of human nature, he still considered pure, noble-minded women the most exquisite production of god's handiwork. "mont," exclaimed tracy interrupting his companion, "if i can only secure marguerite verne as my wife i will give up all my vices and follies. i will lead a different life. oh! if i had reformed years ago i might have had no rival; but then, there is lawson and he has all along had the inside track." "and as poor as a church mouse; bah! no fear of madame verne allowing her daughter to wed a penniless lawyer. man, the chances now are all in your favor." "the old lady was charmingly condescending last evening, i could almost feel her smiles," said hubert, becoming more buoyant in spirits as the wine took effect. other members of the club began to drop in and montague arnold being a general favorite soon forgot his former straitened circumstances. his spirits rose to an almost uncontrollable degree, while his companion complaining of headache sought the outer air. as the club-room was situated in the fashionable west end of the city, the young man turned his steps in the direction of regent park, and sought the delightful shade of its sheltering foliage. like rotten row, hyde park had also its favorite resort and in this delightful spot hubert tracy sat him down to rest. he had not long remained thus when he heard voices; and presently the rustling of leaves showed that the speakers had taken seats on the other side of the shrubbery. "she is one of the sweetest creatures i ever beheld," exclaimed a lady rapturously. the voice and style of expression indicated the speaker as a woman of rank, and from the outline of her form hubert tracy could discern she was also a woman of taste and fashion, also that she was young and exceedingly graceful. "lady gertrude is greatly in love with her, and she says that she is the most interesting girl she ever met." "i am of the opinion of her ladyship," said the other, who also appeared to be of rank and culture, "but i cannot say that i would rave over mrs. arnold, as the most of our gallants do. in my eyes miss verne is far above her sister." hubert tracy now felt a nervous sensation which made him uneasy, and yet he was compelled to remain. his curiosity was aroused, and he leaned eagerly forward where he could almost feel the speaker's breath upon his cheeks. "it was reported that mrs. verne was very anxious to secure sir arthur forrister for miss marguerite, but it was hinted at mrs. arnold's drawing-room, not many evenings since, that mr. tracy is the lucky man." "what--not that young fellow who is so much in the company of arnold?" "yes, the very one, ernest. it is to be hoped that he will give up his bad habits, for if all reports be true he is not a proper husband for miss verne." "who the deuce can they be?" thought hubert, as he tried to get a better view of the pair. lovers they certainly were not. as he listened he further learned that they were brother and sister, who had met after some weeks of absence--the former being a cadet in a military school in a neighboring borough. "egad, my young fellow, if it were you who made the speech there would be some fan before you shouldered your knapsack again," muttered hubert tracy, as he sat eyeing the pair with no very great affection; then adding, spitefully, "curse the women; they are first and last in everything," stealthily crept out and was soon in the open walk, jostled in turn by every pedestrian that crossed his path. not more than an hour had intervened when hubert tracy found himself chatting at his ease and listening to the pretty society talk of mrs. montague arnold. she was attired in robes befitting a princess, and diamonds flashed from the superb necklace of antique design. "you recreant!" exclaimed the beauty, throwing down the novel which had occupied the moments intervening the completion of the extravagant toilet and the arrival of an admirer. "i feel very much inclined to impose severe punishment upon you. is it becoming a suitor to play truant when he wishes to hear favorably from his 'ladye fayre'?" hubert tracy's eye brightened with expectation, and possessing himself of an elegant lounge, reclined in real oriental style. "i was at mamma's not an hour ago, and she is delighted at the change i have made in marguerite. she says that i am to have the whole credit of her conversion. really, hubert, i am more than delighted, and madge is such a deaf good girl." "she is too good for me," thought the young man, but he deemed it best to maintain a spirit of independence. presently mrs. verne arrived, and also marguerite, the latter smiling and apparently cheerful, but very pale. she was dressed in the utmost simplicity, and looked more childish and confiding than ever. as her eyes met those of hubert tracy, a deathlike chill seized her, but was unnoticed by the company. "madge has been indulged in idleness quite long enough, now we are to have some music," and sweeping across the room to the music-stand mrs. arnold began selecting her favorite pieces. "anything except conversation," thought marguerite, and she played some exquisite, old scotch selections, which under any other circumstances would act as a healing balm to a sore heart. she thought of the hours when she had no audience save the quiet, silent man whom she loved so tenderly--that dear parent who had sacrificed so much for his family, and the thought was almost more than she could endure. "why can i live on and pass through this dreadful ordeal, when so many with bright, happy lives are suddenly cut off? but it is all for his sake, and he has suffered more for me. yes, papa, i will make you happy, and you shall never know that i made any sacrifice for your dear sake." as the hours crept stealthily on, hubert tracy was determined to offer his heart and hand to the woman of his choice. marguerite felt that her freedom was now gone forever, and resolved to appear at her best, and on the following morning, when her mother entered the breakfast-room, wreathed in smiles, and informed her that mr. tracy had gained her permission to urge his suit, she dreamily nodded assent, and tried hard to wear a bright and reassuring smile. "strength is given us from heaven," cried the girl when once the privacy of her own room was gained, "and if ever i needed such it is now. merciful god, teach, me thy ways. oh, give me the light of thy countenance to brighten my darkened path." a handsomely-bound volume lay on the dressing-case. it was the book of common prayer. marguerite lifted it in reverential tenderness. it was a keepsake from her beloved parent, and she cherished it as something too sacred for other hands to touch. as she opened it her eyes fell upon the collect for the eighth sunday after trinity, commencing thus:----"o, god, whose never-failing providence ordereth all things both in heaven and earth." "precious truth," cried marguerite as she read the words over several times, then murmured, "how simple of me to repine when it is my heavenly father who ordereth all things," and from that moment marguerite verne found strength given from above, as she bowed her head in meek submission, and resolved to lead a higher and better life. "madge, my child, you are looking radiant," cried the worldly mother, as she glanced at her daughter, for no other reason than to admire the style of the dress she had chosen for the reception of mr. tracy. "and that corsage is so becoming, my darling. it alone would be enough to charm the most prosaic suitor, and that bracelet shows off so prettily on your white arm. i am so glad you put it on." "mamma, please be less lavish of your compliments, i cannot stand flattery. i would rather you would see some of my failings, and teach me how to do what is right." marguerite meant not to convey a reproof, but if mrs. verne had been at all sensitive, she would have felt somewhat uneasy. she would have felt that she had not given a thought to anything that concerned the proper guidance of her children, and she would have felt that the beauty of marguerite's character was alone due to the inherent goodness that possessed her and made her in all respects a true, noble and beautiful woman. marguerite has now made up her mind and she will not swerve from the duty that lies nearest her. she meets hubert tracy with a calm composure and a steady light in her soft expressive eyes and when she had listened to his ardent declaration of love calmly replied:--"hubert tracy i will be your wife but only on these conditions--you will save my father from bankruptcy and ruin. yes, save and protect his gray hairs and i will bless you until my dying hour." "i will do that and more marguerite, if you will only promise to love me--give me your whole and undivided thoughts," and falling down upon his knees before her hubert tracy for once meant what he said. true indeed the redeeming trait in his character was his love for marguerite verne and any goodness that remained was now visible upon his brow. some trace of true manhood still lingered there and arrested the gaze of the pure-minded maiden as she looked upon him and prayed that the omnipotent one would obliterate the earthy incrustations so firmly impressed there and instead cause his image to shine with undimmed lustre. the young man divined the maiden's thoughts and he bent forward exclaiming:--"madge, i am undeserving of you, god knows, but i will try and be worthy of you. will you trust me?" "put your trust in god, hubert. he alone can give you the support you need," cried the girl in earnest tones. "god bless you, my precious darling. it is hard for you now, but remember ere long you will bless the hour that you promised to be my wife." marguerite verne now felt the pressure of her lover's embrace and listened to his renewed protestations of love with a sad aching void at her heart which she had hitherto never felt and she dared not question herself as to the cause. none knew it better than her affianced husband, but in the great selfishness of his nature he could look on with proud indifference and stifle his badly seared conscience with the thought that one day marguerite would be the happier for her present choice. truly it may be said-- "god moves in a mysterious way." ah, marguerite never once dreamt that a destiny was before her other than that she had pictured out in frightfully vivid character. she little thought that in a certain sense hubert tracy's predictions should come true, and that she could one day exclaim-- "how natural is joy, my heart, how easy after sorrow! for once, the best has come that hope promised them to-morrow." chapter xxxiii. dark days at "sunnybank." as marguerite received the congratulations of her friends, who can paint the suffering which the heroic maiden was trying to live through. with pallid lips and thoughtful brow she received her affianced, and permitted his endearments with a passiveness that piqued him sorely; yet he comforted himself with the thought that, like all other girls, she would soon get over it, and he would be the subject of her entire devotion. hubert tracy knew full well that marguerite had a secret recess within her heart, where was hid away a very dear picture, but he knew she was too conscientious to allow herself to look into that chamber when the step she had now taken forbade all communication. he fully trusted her, and well he might. marguerite had written her father informing him of her betrothal and asking for his blessing. the letter was hopeful, and referred to the generosity of her future husband in such a manner that one not in the possession of such proof of hubert tracy's villainy would have gladly welcomed him with a "god bless you, my son. take my child and keep her happy until death do you part." mr. verne clutched the missive within his trembling hands and sat crouching over it an object of pity. "my god! is it possible that my child loves the demon? oh, heavens! am i spared to wreck her happiness as well as my own? why did i not die ere this fatal news had reached me? it may be all for the best, but it is hard for me to bear. i must, and will, revenge the dreadful wrong done to phillip lawson, and i must save my child from what is worse than death! death, did i say?" exclaimed mr. verne, in hysterical tones. "i could see her decked in the robes of the grave without a murmur, and strew flowers over her form without a sigh--but to give her up to that monster of deception. oh, god! it is dreadful!" and the heart-broken man uttered a groan that would have aroused the pity of the most callous wretch that ever-breathed. dead silence reigned, and the affectionate spaniel looked into his master's face with a sympathetic look in his eyes, and then began to lick the weary trembling hands that were crossed upon the troubled breast. "poor brute, you feel for me," said mr. verne caressing the animal, and being aroused to a sense of feeling. "it must never be--no never," and glancing at his watch he arose and staggered to the other side of the room. "i shall see phillip, god helping me. i now see the error in keeping the fact from him so long, but it may be all for the best god keep us faithful." it was well that mr. verne made that prayer, for his faith was growing weak, and the words gave him strength, and as he wends his way to phillip lawson's office, smiling upon each acquaintance that he meets, none would suspect the desperate state into which he was so suddenly plunged. "phillip will help me," murmured he with a hopeful gleam in his eye. "yes, phillip will help me--he is my good angel, he will not forsake me now!" great was mr. verne's disappointment on hearing that the young lawyer had gone out of town on business, and would not return until the following day. "god keep me faithful," again murmured the man, as he stole softly up to his chamber, and quietly shut himself in, giving strict orders that none be allowed to gain admission. but how often do we deceive ourselves; how often do we find that all our plans come to naught, and we prove ourselves miserable failures--altogether unfitted to accomplish the great task we have so vainly aspired to. mr. verne had a worthy project in view, but he was not equal to the effort. a domestic of "sunnybank" being engaged at work in the upper hall heard a faint noise in the direction of mr. verne's dressing room. with feelings of alarm she ran to the spot and summoning all her courage entered and found her much respected master in a swoon his eyes wide open and his face rigid as death. within a few moments the entire household were trying to administer such restoratives as they deemed proper while awaiting the family physician who had been telephoned for with all haste. when mr. verne gained consciousness he did not gain speech and when his physician arrived it was found that he had been prostrated by paralysis. "it is indeed a sad case," said the venerable looking physician as he stood beside the afflicted man and read in the passive face and benumbed limbs the story of an injured and cruelly outraged man. it was not the first time that the sharp but kind bluish eyes looked down on such a wreck, and as they shed a silent tear we noiselessly steal away. with the next day came the well tried friend phillip lawson. sadly he stood and watched the half-conscious man. a gentle pressure of the hand was the only recognition, yet the young lawyer cherished hopes that were solely attributive to himself. "he will yet come around all right, sir?" said phillip questioningly, but a grave shake of the hoary head was the physician's only reply. mrs. montgomery (dear good soul) had now arrived and her presence seemed to bring cheer into the house of gloom. at intervals the patient would watch her as she flitted noiselessly in and out unceasing in her labors of love, and a faint smile would light up his pallid face as if in recognition of such devotion. it was the hour preceding midnight and mrs. montgomery had been persuaded to take a few hours rest while phillip lawson took her place beside the bedside. something in the wan face arrested the watcher's attention and stooping closely down he saw that the man was trying to communicate something that was on his mind. "is it anything that i know of," cried phillip in almost desperate tones; "anything that i can do for you?" mr. verne gazed wildly upon him, then tried to raise his hand, but he was unable for the task, and relapsed into his former state of unconsciousness. "i will make another trial," thought phillip, "when he becomes himself again. poor man! whatever it may be i'm afraid the secret will die with him," and the silent watcher was indeed sad at the thought. the young man's reverie was indeed a painful one. it had lasted for more than an hour when he was aroused by a servant who now approached him, bearing a tray upon which was a cup of delicious coffee and some tempting cakes, which mrs. montgomery had thoughtfully ordered ere she sought repose. "such women are never half appreciated," thought phillip as he sat over the contents of the tray wondering why it was that two sister could be of such opposite nature; then he thought of the still great difference between mother and child--mrs. verne and the peerless marguerite. it were well known that he knew not of the circumstances which had been the cause of the sudden prostration. providence had been kind to philip lawson through the sacrifice of a friend, yet the former knew it not, and when he had puzzled his brains in every conceivable manner to assist mr. verne in communicating to him the important message, he little knew it was the hand of mercy that kept it back. what fervent prayers went up at that bedside; what supplications to the throne of god; what anxious enquiries. day after day found phillip lawson wending his way to "sunnybank." what a mockery the name seemed to convey. the golden sunshine was afraid to enter, save by stealthy glimpses through the barred windows and closed doors. "if marguerite can only get here soon," said mrs. montgomery in impatient tones. "you know mr. lawson it is the only remedy. poor man, it will either kill or cure. poor stephen, we must hope for the best, but i'm afraid he has seen the best of his days," and the corner of the linen handkerchief stayed the falling tears. "poor girl," replied the young man, "she will take it very hard, but miss verne is not one who will easily succumb." "far from it, mr. lawson. she has the spirit of a martyr. i am not afraid to say that marguerite verne would put us all to shame. many a time i have studied her character, and each time i found some new beauties to admire." "there is just such a mixture of poetry and romance as is appreciable," said mr. lawson, a slight color betraying his interest. "though i am a practical, matter-of-fact woman, i really admire the vein of superstitious fervour that gives coloring to her many daily acts." "i remember one day," added mrs. montgomery, "of asking her why she wore such an ugly looking bracelet when she had so many pretty ones. i can see the graceful figure, and the sweet smiling face, as the girl turned upon me the full force of her powerfully magnetic eyes, and with great earnestness replied: 'dear auntie, there is a story attached to that bracelet, and you shall hear it," and taking a seat beside me she began---- "mamma always told us that you were an apt student in history, and of course you know the story of james the fourth of scotland and his iron belt, and how each year he added an ounce to its weight, that it might inflict the greater penance." "i then said that when i was twelve years of age i had read the lady of the lake for the sixth time, and that i had made fitz james my greatest hero, and notwithstanding his many short-comings, i yet looked upon the benefactor of the noble douglas, and the lovely ellen, with fond admiration." "what a glow kindled in marguerite's cheek," added mrs. montgomery, as she listened, and then with exclamation of delight she cried, "aunt hester, i really adore scott, and i think that i outdo you, for i have committed to memory nearly all of the lady of the lake." "but about the bracelet," i said, remindingly. "well, you know, aunt hester, i was not at all times a very good girl," said marguerite, with a sympathetic glance, "and, indeed, found opportunity to make myself very disagreeable. it is indeed true, auntie. well, one day papa brought in a very handsome bracelet as a birthday present for evelyn. it was a cluster of garnets in gold setting, and at night time, when the light fell upon it, shone brilliantly. i envied eve her pretty bauble, and as i saw my sister, many admirers glanced upon it. i felt uncharitable. why could papa not have given me one as well, i thought; and bitter feelings were cherished against my dear papa, and indeed, aunt hester," exclaimed the girl in all humility, "they might have rankled there, and made me worse than i would care to acknowledge, when a little circumstance, or trivial accident, came to my aid and taught me to rise above it. like you, aunt hester, i am fond of history, and being out of reading matter, came across a volume entitled tales from scottish history." "the very thing i have been seeking for months," i exclaimed, taking down the work from the bookshelf, and admiring the substantial binding of heavy dark blue morocco. then i thought of the donor. i turned to the title page and saw my name neatly inscribed in papa's own handwriting. "my darling papa, i exclaimed he sees every want. not a wish of mine but is gratified; he has overheard me saying i should like just such a work, and has lost no time in getting it. "i secured my favorite nook in the library and sitting down, the first thing that caught my eye was an adventure of james the fourth--scotland's coeur-de-lion in very deed. i read the story, and it filled me with remorse. the prince, was guilty of rebellious acts against his father, and i am guilty of rebellious _thoughts_. he wore an iron belt as a reminder of the sad fact. well, my dearest and best of fathers, i shall have something likewise to remind me of my ingratitude." "and you bought that homely bracelet, my child?" i said smiling at her earnestness. "i did aunt hester, and when i feel that i am not doing what is right i just run to my dressing case and slip that on my arm," pointing at the same moment to the curious construction of bronze and steel that encircled her alabaster-like arm. "and why are you wearing it to-day, my dear?" i asked. "i felt inclined to be moody, aunt hester." "i never remember of seeing such a bracelet worn by miss verne," ventured mr. lawson who had hitherto remained a silent listener. "the occasion to which i refer, happened more than three years ago. i remember sometime afterward of asking marguerite if she had her moody fits yet, and she smilingly said that the bracelet had been consigned to a resting place among her store of relics." "miss verne now looks to a higher source. she needs no such talisman," said mr. lawson with an air of deep reverence. "yes, i believe marguerite verne is a christian, though she makes no loud demonstration of the fact. no one possessing the sweet simplicity of character, the truly charitable spirit, and that universal good will to her fellow creatures can be otherwise than a christian." mrs. montgomery had given emphasis to her speech, as she never was weary in extolling the virtues of her favorite niece. a slight movement on the part of the prostrate man called phillip to the bedside. mr. verne had awoke to consciousness, and no doubt had listened to the words so lately uttered. a smile was upon his face as he extended his left hand to mr. lawson, and tried hard to regain his speech. "do not exert yourself, sir," said the latter putting his arm around the invalid with the tenderness of a woman. "all you must do is try to get a little stronger before miss verne arrives, after that you will be all right. it is enough to make any one sick to be alone in this big house." mrs. montgomery watched the effect of the speech and felt sore at heart. "poor man," thought she, "he will never live to see it," and as she looked a second time saw that mr. verne had suddenly relapsed into that comatose state sadly akin to death. "thy will be done," murmured the watcher, and tenderly replacing the coverlid committed the prostrate form to the mercy of an almighty father. chapter xxxiv. dark hours indeed. it is nearly midnight. mrs. verne had been prevailed upon (to use her own words) to attend a musical soiree given by a fashionable young matron in honor of her fifth wedding anniversary. hubert tracy now danced attendance upon his mother-in-law, elect and on the present occasion was her beau chevalier. he had taken leave of marguerite with much reluctance. her wearied and sadly pale face upbraided him but he kept stifling his conscience with the thought that she would be happier when the first impressions wore off. "i am beginning to believe all women are alike," exclaimed he petulantly as he was awaiting mrs. verne's appearance, "made up of april showers and ready to transfer themselves into a vale of tears whenever they think of their boy lovers but when they've made a good haul in the matrimonial net once and forever they forget all their swains and live for one grand purpose--to impress their friends with the greatness of their position. and i'm not going to be fooled either i tell you, miss marguerite. you've got to toe the mark too. none of your groaning over that chuckle-headed fool of a lawson who has no more sense than he needs." "i beg pardon hubert, for the detention," exclaimed mrs. verne who now made her appearance rustling in gros grain silk and sparkling with superb brilliants, while the cleverly artistic touches administered to deface the inroad of merciless time would lead one at first glimpse to suppose that the radiant matron was none other than a pretty woman of twenty. "there is not the slightest need for apology," said the young man bowing to the lady with the grace of a crichton. "i grieve to leave madge this evening, but you know, my dear hubert, that society is a merciless tyrant. its mandates are cruel in the extreme," and affecting the air of an injured woman mrs. verne ensconsed herself amid the luxuriant cushions. "marguerite is not looking well," said the affianced glancing; at his companion to see that all was settled for her comforts. "the poor child has such severe headaches, but in confidence, my dear, hubert, i sometimes think she brings them on herself, for you know that she is too much given to reading, not that kind of reading that is needed or recreation, but works beyond what a woman should attempt." hubert tracy was not altogether in a talking mood, and was glad that his companion had claimed the floor. "i for one do not believe in women making such a display in the literary line. there is no sense in it, hubert." "you never yet saw a man in love with a literary star of the first magnitude. literature is not for women, and when i see one setting up with an air of importance, and discussing science, history, biography, aye, and even religion, i just think, well, my lady, if you could see yourself as other see you, you would not get off your stuff in that style. to tell the truth i despise literary women, and if i had my way i would consign them to some seventh-class place of refuge, where they could howl and shout until they become what they generally end in--nothing." "i fear you would not make a bad attempt in that sort of business yourself," said the young man much amused at the adroit manner which mrs. verne sought to gain a compliment. "heaven forbid it my dear, hubert. from a child i always had a holy horror of blue stockings, and when i looked upon their coarse masculine faces i always experienced a feeling of disgust that i must confess increased with the years." "and you have met many i presume." "i merely refer to the works of the photographer or the artist, such, as you see on the vignette of their works. i am sure that they are ugly enough to frighten any sensitive child." "but marguerite is not one of that class," said the young man, lazily readjusting a cushion that had slipped out beneath his head. "she is an exception so far as appearance is concerned, but that does not excuse her," said mrs. verne, with a haughty toss of the head, then suddenly changing her voice to a very tender and confidential tone, exclaimed, "my dear hubert, i am going to give you a little bit of advice, and i know you will receive it kindly, as you value my child's happiness. i wish you to have a warm interest in everything that tends to her comfort; but above all things, do not encourage in her that desire to be in seclusion, and to mope and groan over imaginary grievances. it is, i am sorry to say, a failing which she has inherited from her father; and though i do not wish to speak disparagingly of my dear husband, i must say that he is in many respects a very peculiar man. it is, indeed, very discouraging for a woman to find that she has married a man who takes not the least interest in society and prefers to remain, night after night shut up in his own rooms, with no companion but a musty old ledger and a filthy pipe. ugh! the very thought make me sick." as mrs. verne's speech was accompanied by expressions of contempt and disgust, the impression made upon hubert tracy was not of the most flattering kind. he merely smiled, but gave no expression to his thoughts. they were not what would please his mother-in-law elect, and he had enough policy to conceal them. and now for a second scene. the carriage had rolled away and mrs. verne had ascended the lofty stairway. as she stood in the corridor to throw aside the heavy wrap that enfolded her, she heard a confused din of voices. it startled her and caused her heart to beat violently. "what a fool i am to get in such a state for nothing," but just as the last word was uttered, a servant opened the door leading from the inner hall. it was marguerite's waiting maid. the girl's face spoke sad news. "in heaven's name what is the matter, maria?" cried mrs. verne, thinking that a murder had taken place in their midst. "it is miss verne, ma'am; but she is some better now. oh! i thought, ma'am, that you would never come--and she was asking for you." the poor girl was deeply attached to her young mistress and was nearly bereft of her senses when she found the latter lying upon the sofa in an apparently lifeless condition. a physician had been summoned, who pronounced the girl in no imminent danger, but said that there was some anxiety to be feared as regards nervous prostration. marguerite had been quickly restored to consciousness, but she was white as the coverlid that overspread the luxurious bed upon which she lay so calm and still. "my child, what has done this," exclaimed mrs. verne looking wildly around her as if for answer from some other than those that stood about. "don't be alarmed, mamma, i am better," said the girl, attempting to raise herself upon the pillow, but she fell back exhausted, and closed her eyelids, looking sad and wretched. mrs. verne was ill at ease as she watched at marguerite's bedside. remorse for once seized upon her as she pictured herself moving about the gay throng, and her child, perhaps, on the verge of death. "i might have known that she did not look herself, for those great circles around her mouth and eyes ought to have told me of her illness; but i trust she will soon be all right." mrs. verne took a second glance at the pale face to gain more assurance and hope, and as she stood there tried hard to impute her daughter's present indisposition to every source, but the real one. "the poor girl is fretting herself to death over her father's failure, for she knows that it will affect his reputation in society. she will not acknowledge it, but i am certain that she would feel the snubs of our most intimate friends more titan i would. indeed, they would kill the poor sensitive madge; and to think that stephen verne brought all this upon his family by his own slackness. talk about honesty! it makes fools of people. a man who is so honest that he must trust every other man he meets is a fool, and worse than a fool, he's not only a fool towards himself, but a fool towards his family." such was an outline of the woman's soliloquy. she considered herself the most unfortunate woman in the whole world, and wondered why it was that some people are born to trouble while others never have a care to ruffle their placid brow. the kind-hearted physician watched with deep interest the welfare of his patient. he admired the sweet, pure face and the _spirituelle_ eyes awaiting his coming with eager anticipation. "you must have brooded over some mental trouble my child, and you know _that_ is not what brings the roses to a maiden's cheek," and the disciple of aesculapius once more patted the pale cheek to force back the roseate blush of youth and beauty. "doctor, you surely cannot say that i am to remain here many days longer when i am so anxious to see my father. i know that he will get better if i can only be near him to become his nurse." "i see where part of the trouble is, but there is a greater one beneath that," thought the doctor as he sat writing out a prescription. but like that great student of human nature he could not help exclaiming, though in undertone, "'who can minister to a mind diseased.' this is indeed one of the stubborn cases that i often have to deal with--administer drugs and pills _ad infinitum_ when the gentle pressure of a sympathetic hand or the soft tender glances of a bright eye would act more effectually than all the compounds which the london dispensaries can boast of." a bouquet of exquisite beauty had arrived and with it a nicely folded note. marguerite took the flowers within her trembling fingers and inhaled the rich fragrance with a sort of reverence. nature claimed a large share of the girl's sympathies. she worshipped it as only the student of nature should. she "looked from nature up to nature's god." but when she had unfolded the delicate looking missive and looked at the neatly formed letters not a ray of feeling was emitted from the expressive face. "i see how it is," mused the man of experience; "poor child your's has not been the only aching heart. you think one way and your aspirations run another, or worse than that they accord and leave you to the tender mercies of worldly and narrow-minded parents whose sole motive is the accomplishment of their own sordid ends." mrs. verne's entrance solved the problem, to the entire satisfaction of the physician. she had been detained in the drawing-room, and now came to offer apology for delaying in the sick chamber. "don't worry, mamma. i really am not so ill as you imagine," said the girl, hopefully. "the invigorating new brunswick breeze is the best tonic i can prescribe," exclaimed the doctor, eyeing mrs. verne with close study, "but this one must be taken first." a merry twinkle of the keen blue eye was directed upon marguerite, who now took the proffered slip of paper, and, to the very great amusement of the practitioner, noted the latin abbreviation. "don't be too modest over it," said the latter, laughing. "i begin to think my patient has been drawn into the mysteries of our lore." marguerite reached out her hand to receive the kind goodbye, and how pale and wan that little hand? poor child, murmured the genial-hearted man as he shut the door so softly and went forth in his daily rounds whenever and anon the sweet face would rise up before him and shut out all the visible surroundings. "the old, old story--poor thing--many such have i prescribed for in vain, but it has been so from the beginning, and i suppose, will be so to the end." but dr. refern's soliloquy was lost upon a desert air, and as he pronounced miss verne convalescent he felt a tender pity in his large, warm heart, and fervently prayed that the girl's future might be made brighter and happier, and that she yet might return thanks for his interest in her recovery. * * * * * "my father!" what a scene. marguerite is once more with her idolized parent, but the poor girl is almost overcome with grief as she looked upon the altered looks of the prostrate form. "my darling father," she murmurs, and vainly attempts to gain a look of fond recognition. "oh! father! try to speak to me," she cried, sobbing like a child, "speak to your own marguerite." it was a scene too sacred for other eyes, and mrs. montgomery turned away. "father in heaven," prayed the girl with arms uplifted and her eyes raised in devout supplication, "forsake me not now; oh, give me back my father--the father to whom i owe so much; oh, grant that his senses be restored, and i can hear his voice once more." marguerite threw herself prostrate beside the bed, and remained for some moments in fervent meditation. the silence was indeed impressive, when suddenly marguerite cast a glance at the loved form, and a half-smothered cry burst from her lips. another glance and a murmured "thank god," marguerite verne's prayer was answered. "marguerite." "my father." what comfort in these words? what tongue could tell of the happiness that now filled the maiden's heart. she could not utter another word, but put her arms around her father's neck and pressed upon his wasted lips one long lingering kiss--so tender, so pure and so sacred that it might well have accorded with the salutation of the angels in heaven! and marguerite verne clad in robes of dazzling whiteness was indeed a fit representation of an angelic being, whose sole mission on earth was the doing of good and making others happy, but at a great sacrifice, the greatest sacrifice that a maiden can endure--the sacrifice of all her earthly hope. yes, marguerite could and would make such a sacrifice. she had strength given her from the highest source, and she had faith in her heavenly father. he would carry her through all she had now undertaken. mr. verne had rallied sufficiently to recognize his child. he gazed into the face he loved so well, and a faint smile overspread his countenance. he lay with his hands clasped in those of his child and seemed supremely happy. "it is almost a pity that he should be aroused from this happy, trance-like state," said mrs. montgomery as she quietly raised the sick man to administer the medicine that had been consigned to her care. marguerite once more pressed the thin lips and stood at a distance, as if trying to think whether it were reality or dreamland. other eyes looked upon the maiden and other hands clasped in prayer were indeed very near. what subtle power caused marguerite to look around? what subtle power caused her to hold her breath as if oppressed with some invisible presence? "miss verne, i'm glad you are here." "thank you mr. lawson," was the quiet reply, but in the look there was a world of sympathy that smote deeply into phillip lawson's heart. chapter xxxv. a ministering angel--a sudden revelation. phillip lawson was not surprised at the great change which had been wrought in marguerite verne. she was kind and thoughtful, but there was a restraint that made him feel ill at ease. "poor girl," thought he, "she feels her father's failure very keenly, not i believe from a selfish view but from her relation to others." the young man had not divined aright. he was not aware that marguerite was the affianced wife of hubert tracy. he did not know the nature of the blow that had made such dire havoc upon the constitution of mr. verne. he did not know that all the anxious moments of the latter were spent in vainly trying to make known the bitter truth. he did not know that within mr. verne's desk was concealed a document which might remain there until too late! mrs. verne had arrived in a state bordering on distraction. she did not wish to meet any of her former friends lest she would hear something that would grate harshly on her nerves. she suffered much from headache and consequently remained most of the time in her own apartments. "if your papa were at all times conscious of our presence, my dear, there would be some sense in my remaining with him, but really madge i think the more quiet he is kept the better." "but mamma dear, one of us should be near so that with returning consciousness he would recognize us." "but that is not very often, madge." "aunt hester says that he asked for me very soon after i returned last night. i am so sorry that she did not awaken me." the girl looked sad indeed and to a more sensitive woman it would have been a keen reproach, but mrs. verne was wrapt up in self and wished no other feeling to find a shelter within her breast. some days passed and no great change had taken place in mr. verne yet the physician did not pronounce his case as hopeless. "we are all doing our best and i trust that there will soon be a favorable change." marguerite verne heard those words with a deep sigh, yet she was calm, and composed and even smiled at the eulogism passed upon her skill in the many duties of the sick chamber. it was only when in her own room and none were near to witness her grief that she showed the weak side of her nature. many weary hours she lay and prayed that god would give her strength to go through the sad and painful duty that ever and anon rose up before her with a vividness that was cruel as death. "i cannot meet mr. lawson without a shudder!" she murmured between sobs of deep and poignant anguish, "and i love him as i shall never love another--but he shall never know it--ah no. i shall become the wife of hubert tracy and try to be happy--yes, happy. and i shall receive the warmest congratulations and i will smile as they think me so happy and look upon me with eyes of envy." marguerite now drew her hand across her eyes as if to shut out the reality of the scene, while a chill made her shiver as if seized with ague. "how foolish to be so weak," she murmurs, "darling papa, i would make a sacrifice ten times as great for his dear sake," and instantly the tears were dried and the girl was calm. "poor, dear papa, i shall receive such glowing accounts of his perfect restoration to health, and i can visit him often. oh! if i could live with him always!" marguerite instantly smothered the half-formed sigh and sought a momentary respite in carefully combing out the waves of soft, silken and luxuriant hair. such was the manner in which she passed the first fortnight after her arrival. she became accustomed to the young lawyer's daily visits, and though she knew it was not right, she could not resist a desire to await his coming with all the eagerness of her nature. but further she dare not go. the civilities exchanged were of a nature that fell like lead upon the young man's honest heart, but he was attentive to every word and wish, and always appeared with a kind voice and quiet but cheery smile. but phillip lawson had a more bitter draught to swallow ere many hours had passed over his head. mr. verne began to show signs of recovery, which the good old physician smilingly attributed to the "ministering angel," as he gaily dubbed marguerite. the latter was quietly arranging some delicacies upon a silver tray that stood on the pretty five o'clock. phillip lawson remained for a moment to contemplate the picture. the girl looked so guileless and so childlike. the pale-grey cashmere, draped in graceful folds, gave her an air peculiar to some self-sacrificing sister of mercy, whose presence brought life and light into the home of the afflicted ones. as she stooped to pick up a stray rose that had fallen from the fragrant bouquet, phillip saw the delicate hands become tremulous, while the lips parted and the beautiful eyes were raised to heaven. "oh, heaven!" murmured the young man "i cannot endure this," and instantly he dashed forward with an impetuosity altogether foreign to his gentle and, at times, grave demeanor. marguerite was quick to detect the abruptness, but not a gesture betrayed curiosity. "papa has been sleeping for more than two hours--really mr. lawson, i have such good news. the doctor has just gone out and he says that every symptom is favorable and that he has every reason to believe that he may rally very soon." "god grant it miss verne," said philip, going on tiptoe towards the couch, and gazing wistfully upon the emaciated features of his old friend. "this is my night to remain with papa, but the doctor bade me ask you to take my place. he seemed very anxious that i should do so and i am willing to do anything that may be deemed necessary." "strange that i came here purposely to make the same request," said the young man, looking gravely into the girl's face. "how good of you, mr. lawson." but phillip lawson needs no praise, and marguerite goes on with her work, occasionally glancing at the time-piece to see how long her father had been sleeping. and we come now to the hour of midnight. trinity had sent forth its hallowed chime, and the echoes had died away in the calm stillness of the night. silence reigned in "sunnybank," not a sound save the heavy tick of the old clock that stood at the top of the grand stairway. phillip lawson with book in hand was trying to while away the hours and to divert his mind from the unpleasant thoughts that now and then would arise with peculiar vividness. a slight rustling causes him to start. "my dear boy." the young man leans gently forward and supports the upraised hand. "phillip, i have got my prayer. is marguerite near?" mr. verne looked agitated, and phillip lawson feared the result. "but you must be very quiet now, mr. verne. you know that much depends upon yourself." "ah, phillip, i know it too well, but i have something to tell you, which is killing me by inches. phillip you are the only one who must know it now. the rest will come in good time--in good time my boy!" phillip lawson administered the soothing draught that had been tri-hourly prescribed, then lovingly placed his arm around the wasted form and laid him softly on the downy pillow. mr. verne's voice was much stronger, and it cost him less effort to speak. "it will do more harm than good to deny the request," thought the young man, and he leaned forward that the voice might reach his ear with the least possible effort of the speaker. mr. verne drew a heavy sigh, and then began:--"phillip lawson, you are one of the truest friends i ever had, and heaven will yet bless you for all you have done for me." the young man was about to appeal when he saw that mr. verne would suffer no interruption, so he calmly listened and uttered not a word. "phillip, it is a sad story that i have to tell, but i know you will help me to bear up. i have only you to confide in--only you." mr. verne rested for a moment, and then continued, "it was the day before i was prostrated that i called upon you but learned that you were out of town until the following day. i wished to tell you something that grieved me more than living being ever can know. i had then in my breast pocket the death warrant of all my future hope and joy--that fatal letter announcing the betrothal of my darling marguerite to that dissolute and unprincipled young man--hubert tracy." mr. verne paused, then glanced at phillip lawson. "ah my son, god knows i would it were otherwise, i know that you love my child. i have cherished that secret as something sacred, and lived in the hope that all would come right some day. phillip, my boy, i can bear _my_ grief, but it is hard to see the hopes of a bright and useful life buried deep--so deep." the young man sat like one in a mocking cruel dream. the news stunned him. it was so unexpected, and yet so true. "you have spoken truly mr. verne," said phillip sadly, "i love marguerite as i shall never love another woman. she is lost to me forever, but i shall cherish her memory while i live. her image shall be enshrined within my heart; my life's devotion, my guiding star; they cannot rob me of that sacred duty. it is sanctioned by heaven itself." phillip lawson now turned his face toward the couch. "i never will believe that my child loves such a man as hubert tracy," said mr. verne, closing his eyelids with sheer exhaustion. "she has been forced into it. promise me phillip you will help me examine the matter closely. i am regaining some of my lost strength and will be better able for the task." "i would like to assist you mr. verne, but i am in a delicate position. i cannot see how miss verne would be entrapped into a marriage against her own wishes. you know that mr. tracy was always on terms of intimacy with your family, and besides he is rather prepossessing, and would in all probability win the favor of any young lady." "phillip, you are generous to a fault. you could not say that man is a villain and a scoundrel when you really would have proof of his villany in your possession." "heaven forgive me for it," mused phillip, "it was for her sake that i spoke thus. if she loves hubert tracy as i love her, then would i sacrifice every feeling to do it. would to god i could think as her father does." the young man sat for a moment buried in deep thought. he was now finding some ground for marguerite's restraint when in his presence, and he conjured up many imaginary doubts and fears to prove that she loved hubert tracy. even the letters which spoke in glowing terms of such kind attention--did not every circumstance serve as further conviction. mr. verne divined phillip lawson's thoughts. "phillip, my boy, hear me. i may never rise from off this bed, but i solemnly swear that hubert tracy will never place a marriage ring upon marguerite verne's finger--never--" mr. verne now grasped phillip lawson's hand and held it there, while the latter became suddenly inspired with bright hope. "this has been too much for you, mr. verne," said the young man, soothingly. "but i have more to tell you, phillip--something that will stagger you." "wait until to-morrow, sir, you will feel stronger." "very well, my boy, let it be to-morrow," and mr. verne dropped off in a peaceful slumber--aye, gentle and peaceful as that of a child. phillip lawson's thoughts were confusion manifold as he sat with his hands folded listlessly across his breast. he was questioning the genuineness of his motives in keeping from mr. verne a secret which deeply affected the interests and welfare of his child. "if marguerite loved hubert tracy why should i thwart her fond hopes. hubert tracy has wronged me, though his act failed. have i any right to rake up the intended wrong and hunt him down as an avenging deity. "and for what," asked phillip, as he gazed wildly around, fearing some one should intrude upon his privacy. "it was the green-eyed monster that goaded the weak-minded hubert to be tempted. and must i, in possession, of all my senses, retaliate from the same cause! ah, no, hubert. you will go free, but heaven will not suffer you to pollute a pure and innocent being. ah, no." and more than ever inspired with faith, in the decrees of an all-wise providence, phillip lawson fully resolved to hold his peace. "i feel that i am doing what is right in the sight of heaven, and that thought gives me double resolution." mr. lawson's soliloquy was interrupted by the entrance of a domestic who came to take his place. mrs. montgomery, being anxious, had also come in to make numerous inquiries, and to see that the young man should seek some rest. "blessings on her kindly soul," murmured the latter, as he went into the tasteful dressing-room and threw himself upon the lounge, where soft pillows and ample covering showed that loving hands had not forgotten his comfort. but phillip lawson did not sleep. he turned listlessly from side to side. he tried to divert his thoughts to business and to many and varied subjects but through all and above all arose the words "very well, my boy, let it be to-morrow." what a world of thought was running through the young man's brain as he lay thus, turning over in his well-stored mind many of the intricate problems of life and trying vainly to solve those which more deeply concerned himself. in his short career midst life's struggles there was much to be grateful for. there was indeed, as he journeyed through the wilderness, a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night and as phillip lawson raised his eyes heavenward they caught the reflection of that fire; his countenance glowed with a radiance that was truly heaven-born and as mrs. montgomery passed through the room an hour afterward there was still trace of the sacred invisible presence. beading low the woman exclaimed "truly a noble soul," and with a prayer upon her lips invoking heaven's blessing towards the sleeper she crept noiselessly away. chapter xxxvi. an interesting event--shade and sunshine. when mr. lawson called at "sunnybank" on the following day he was pained to hear that mr. verne had taken a bad turn. the physician had given strict orders that none should approach him except an old nurse who had seen much service in the family. "it has been too much for him," murmured phillip as he closed the doer behind him, and again the word "to-morrow" sounded prophetically in his ear. but the solicitor was not allowed to indulge further in gloomy thought. he had scarcely seated himself at his office desk when the bright countenance of mr. moses spriggins beamed upon all around. "good morning, mr. spriggins," exclaimed mr. lawson heartily glad to see the face of his honest friend. "don't be too sure that you're glad to see me, mr. lawson," (mr. spriggins having dropped the appellation of 'squire) "for i've come on a kinder disagreeable errant." "i am sorry to hear _that_, mr. spriggins. but perhaps it is not so bad as you imagine," said the solicitor very cheerily. "it's the roughest on you, sir. i tell yer what it is, it ain't a very disagreeable piece of bus'ness for me to git married to melindy jane thrasher when we've been a-courtin' mor'n two years--jest two years last hayin' time, for melindy came to our house to help the wimmin folks and the first time i sot eyes on her i'd made up my mind." mr. spriggins was becoming very eloquent on the subject and might have said much more (not to the point) when interrupted. "and you have come to inform us that we must give up melindy?" "yes, sir, that is the hull thing in a few words," cried mr. spriggins very much elated, "isn't it a wonderful gift you fellars have of speakin' right to the pint. by hokey, i'd give a good deal if i was a lawyer--an honest, fair-square one like yerself, sir." "thank you mr. spriggins," said the young man trying hard to look serious. "i was at yer place last evenin', sir, and as melindy and me talked the thing over, she said that she felt backward of tellin' you, and says i, melindy, i'll see mr. lawson meself and tell him to look out for another girl, so as you'd not be left without help." "and you have given us sufficient time, i hope," said mr. lawson, smiling. "we're to be spliced a fortnight from next tuesday, sir, and if it's not askin' too much, i'd like terrible well if yerself and miss lottie could come up to mill crossin' to be present at the cer'mony." "if nothing prevents we will go," said the young man quietly. mr. spriggins sat for some moments and then informing the solicitor that he had some business at the insurance office rose to take leave. "i suppose you have heard of mr. verne's illness?" ventured mr. lawson. "yes, sir, melindy and meself was a-talkin' the hull thing over last night. he is a fine gentleman, sir,--and the young lady--i'm so glad she's back again. ah! she's a fine girl, sir. i bet the old gentleman will be all right now, for the sight of her face is bettern' all the medicine in all the poth'cary consarns in st john." what a temptation presented itself to the young man. he could easily ask the honest-hearted fellow about his interview with mr. verne, and of the effect upon him; also the nature of the conversation. that moses spriggins formed a connecting link in some future disclosure he was doubly convinced, but it must come about by an established order of things; and the young lawyer thanked god that he was given sufficient strength to withstand the power of the tempter. when mr. lawson went home that evening he received the full benefit of the information imparted to miss lottie. it had been arranged that the latter should assist in the selection of the indispensable trousseau, and this was indeed a source of delight. mr. spriggins came to town many times ere he could suit himself in a brand-new suit of clothes, also some new furniture to make things look "kinder nobby." nell spriggins had been married some weeks previous, and as she had borne away her "fit out," there were many vacant corners in the spriggins homestead, which of course fell to the lot of moses to restore in due order. but mr. spriggins was equal to the occasion. "it ain't every day a feller gits spliced, i can tell yer, and one orter put the best foot for'ard. tell you what it is, mother, melindy and me is a-goin' to make the folks' eyes stick out when we 'pear out in the mill crossin' meetin' house." the good old lady wiped her glasses and advised her son to be moderate in his ideas, "for," said she, "i always think that a quiet beginnin' makes the best endin'" "endin', did you say, mother' wal, that's very encouragin', to be a-talkin' about endin' when a fellar feels like livin' till he has to be killed off," and moses' big blue eyes glistened like two big china marbles. "now, moses, if you _are_ a-goin' to be married, you needn't be a-losin' of every speck of sense. it's enough for a bit of a boy to be a-makin' of sich light speeches." mrs. spriggins' remarks were brought to a close by moses making an exit via the back door, and when the privacy of the sheep-house had been gained he sat down on a big log and began counting how much money he had still on hand after his trip to town on the day previous. "let's see--there's thirty-six dollars and one cent. yes, every cent's a cent, and twenty-one dollars sam wiggles owes me, and the two loads o' hay jim briggs is a-takin' to town this week--that's sure cash--well, thirty-six and twenty-one is fifty-seven, and the hay--wal, it's all as good as seventy-five dollars." a couple of huge hogs acting upon the aggressive in appropriating a large share of hen feed, now interrupted the soliloquy, and after combating the unscrupulous animals, moses spriggins once more seated himself upon the log. "wal, seventy-five dollars won't make a bad spread, neither. i'm terrible sorry that there's trouble in the verneses. i'd like deuced well to have that miss margit--now that's too highfalutin a name for me--if melindy were here she'd git it off in good style." silence reigned for a moment; then moses took up the thread of discourse. "when a fellar's gettin' spliced hisself he wants every one else to follow. wal, it's no use a-sayin' it, but if mr. lawson and miss verne could have both a-come to the weddin' there's no tellin' what might have happened. they'd git interested in the cer'mony, and i'd bet ten to one they'd be a-proposin' before it was over. wal, sir, if mr. verne gits the leastest bit better, i'm a-goin' after miss verne, sure pop." moses having made such resolution now carefully folded the notes in his business-like pocket-book and set off to do the work which awaited him. it was, indeed, somewhat of a coincidence to know that at the same moment when moses spriggins was speculating upon the prospects of his legal friend that the latter should be also troubled about the veritable moses. lottie lawson had gone to "sunnybank," brimming over with the affairs of the elated melindy jane. marguerite listened to the child's amusing description of the many articles that were hourly displayed by the expectant bride, and when consulted as to the choice of a wedding present, thoughtfully proposed sending one herself. "oh. miss verne, that will be delightful," cried lottie, clapping her hands in childish glee. "why, melindy will have lots of nice things; i know what brother phillip is going to give--a pretty china tea-set--and mine, a pair of napkin rings." marguerite smiled at the little maid's enthusiasm, and warned her against being too communicative to melindy jane. "indeed, she will not know what they are until brother phillip and i go out to mill crossing." lottie took her departure and marguerite once more sought her father's room to take her place beside his bed. * * * * * "spriggins, did you say, papa?" "yes, child--i want the paper." "which paper, papa--can i get it for you?" in the effort to make known his wishes his memory had failed him, and marguerite stood utterly helpless to execute that wish. "something is on papa's mind--some paper. it is, indeed, of much importance, for poor papa has been deeply agitated." the girl had noticed that her father's eyes always rested upon her in a mute, half-despairing appeal, yet she had not courage to question him upon the matter. "if i could only speak to mr. lawson, but there is a restraint between us that i suppose under the circumstances is only natural. i am the affianced wife of hubert tracy and phillip lawson is not the man to take advantage of his influence." a heavy sigh escaped marguerite and instantly she raised both hands as if to compress the aching brow and wearied brain. in the quiet of her own chamber marguerite verne felt that she was safe from human eyes. she longed to give vent to her pent up sorrow, and sitting down upon a pretty ottoman (the work of her own industrious hands) uttered a low and mournful wail--such only as would express a broken heart. "oh phillip lawson, it is hard to meet you every day of my life and to know that we are strangers indeed--yes, worse than strangers. oh, my sad heart. none but heaven will ever know what i have suffered and am suffering now. oh, phillip! phillip! why is your image ever before me! why do you approach me with your grave but kind face and hold out your hand in tenderest sympathy! oh, my heart, it is maddening! why was i born to such feeling! why was i cursed with the susceptibilities of a warm and loving heart! why were not these sympathetic chords torn rudely asunder ere they could vibrate with such anguish! why did not my heart turn into stone ere it took root in such deadly bitter soil! ah well, love is common and grief is common--'never morning wore to evening but some heart did break.' and i am only a drop in the great ocean--the great sea of struggles--heart-aches and bitter groans!" a rustle of garments in the outer hall caused marguerite to raise her head and as she caught a glimpse of her sorrowful face in the mirror opposite she felt a sudden pang and seemed to meet the mild despairing gaze of her idolized parent. "dear papa, what would he think of his rebellious child?" immediately the girl was trying to look brave and struggling hard to set aside all the painful thoughts. marguerite fortunately was endowed with much will power. she could master her thoughts to such a degree that a quiet, calm content would succeed, and in this condition she went to her mother's room. mrs. verne was now in a semi-invalid state. she was moody and morose, and oftentimes much depressed. it would be charitable for us to think that this woman reflected upon her past foolishness; and be it as it may we will give her the benefit of the doubt. mr. verne saw little of his wife, but there were moments when his thoughts went back to the child-wife of his youth, and a tear glistened in his eye as he recalled the bright scenes of the sadly dimmed life. but marguerite verne compensated for her mother's defects. she was truly all in all to her fond parent. her smile was his beacon light. her voice was more musical than harp or psaltery, and her loving ministration were life indeed; and as each morning and evening the girl clasped her hands and knelt beside her father's couch reading aloud the several beautiful prayers for the visitation of the sick, what soul could fail to be deeply affected. "what a picture for a guido, a rembrandt, or a correggio," thought phillip lawson as he stood on the threshold not daring to breathe lest he break the solemn spell; and as he noiselessly turns away the vision haunts him with increasing vividness. "turn which way i will it is always the same," he murmured, and entering warwick's elegant china store felt like anything but selecting a bridal present. but the world has its claims upon us, and phillip lawson was shown the many beautiful patterns of delicate china cups, plates, etc., and very soon selected a pretty tea-set that would make glad the heart of the expectant bride. the young man had crossed over to the northern side of king street, but had not gone many steps when he heard familiar voices, looking around he espied the piquant lottie and her domestic making their way into the handsome and tasteful establishment of manchester, robertson & allison. the young solicitor was amused as he thought of the conversation which he had accidently overheard on the previous morning. but for the shopping excursion. lottie with an air of importance had given much advice to the jubiliant melindy but when that great emporium, so dear to many a woman's heart, had been, reached the latter almost lost her senses. "if mose could just peek in wouldn't he stare?" said she, casting her eyes on a pile of silks that had been displayed upon the counter. lottie smiled, and having directed melindy's attention to a choice lot of dress material stepped to the other end of the ware-room to speak to one of her acquaintances. the shades were too dull to suit melindy's taste. she wanted it for a "pertikler occasion" and if she had thought in time would have brought a "certain person" in to choose it. the merry twinkle in the clerk's eye brought miss lottie to the rescue, and after much deliberation on the part of melindy a heavy piece of all-wool goods of bright maroon was at length decided upon for the best dress, while another of fancy plaid was chosen for reception purposes. it is needless to enter into detail of all the knick-knacks that took melindy's eye, but we cannot pass the millinery department, into which the latter was ushered by the amused but undemonstrative lottie. a bonnet was, of course, the desired article. "it does look kinder nice," said melindy surveying the pretty, tasteful cream-colored lace with a bunch of neat french flowers in relief, "but it looks to me as if it wasn't hardly dressy enough." "we can easily arrange it to suit your taste," said the young lady in attendance as she went towards the show-case and began assorting some bright-colored roses as more acceptable. "wal, there's sumthin' more becomin'!" said melindy into a high key, "and i'm certain that 'person' would like it better." melindy jane cast a significant glance at miss lottie who in turn gave it to the young lady and the result was significant smiles all around. "well, its nothing to be ashamed of. i s'pose we might as well tell you that i want it for peerin' out with, and as there's alwus so many remarks passed i'd like it to be sumthin' dressy." "certainly," said the young lady, and within a very short time the cream-colored bonnet was in reality a bed of roses, highly suggestive to miss lottie of the lines-- "oh my love is like a red, red rose that newly springs in june." "there now," cried the delighted melindy, looking in the mirror to note the effect, "that's just the style that'll take moses' eye. don't i wish he was here to see it." the indispensable white gloves and white net veil and bright ribbons, flowers, etc., were now laid aside, and with a strict injunction "to be sure send 'em right away," melindy jane thrasher was truly the happiest customer that ever emerged from the time-honored establishment of manchester, robertson & allison. chapter xxxvii. hubert tracy unfolds his plans. it must not be supposed that phillip lawson was remiss in his regular duties--that he neglected the professional demands duly devolving upon him. our much-respected friend had seen adversity on every hand and in many phases. he had struggled hard to overcome difficulties, and he had smothered the pleading of his hungry unsatisfied soul; and as from day to day he jostles his fellow man in the crowded thoroughfares, or encounters him in the office, shop or study, the same remark was common to every honest-minded citizen:--"lawson is a clever, industrious and good fellow, and well deserves the position which he will one day occupy." and now, when it became an established fact that phillip lawson had fallen heir to forty thousand dollars, it was, indeed, worthy of mention that no one was heard to make uncharitable remarks. congratulations fell thick and fast, and last, but not least, came those of moses spriggins. "well, sir, i used ter say i'd be no small potatoes one o' these days, but i never dreamed i'd have a millionar at my weddin'. wal, thar's no accountin' for miracles these times," and the iron hand left its impress upon the soft palm of the "millionar" in a manner that showed heartiness minus conventionalism. but there was another who tendered congratulations while a deeper shadow settled down and shut out any approach of joy or gladness. marguerite verne could not fail to see the difference in her mother's reception of phillip lawson as he now is, and this thought gave her pain. the possessor of forty thousand, and a poor penniless lawyer, were indeed two different beings in mrs. verne's partial eyes. they were unlike in appearance, character, action--aye, as opposite as two extremes could well be. mr. lawson, in his altered condition, was handsome, was more distinguished looking, could converse more fluently, was more polished and more gallant. but marguerite verne listened to her mother's eulogism with a calm despair, and, save the pallor of her lips, no one could tell the suffering within. what matters it now, thought the girl, as she bent over a sheet of paper and tried to collect her thoughts. hubert tracy eagerly awaited the delicate missive that came as regularly as the mail, and he now was looking forward to the time when he would claim marguerite verne forever and forever. it was so hard to frame each sentence without the conviction that every word conveyed the falsity of the girl's heart. how dare she pen one word such as an affianced lover would expect! oh, the agony of soul that marguerite endured as she combated with her honest nature. phillip lawson never lost sight of the doings at "sunnybank." he was daily around the afflicted household and tried hard to bring cheer along with him. that mr. verne was sinking fast the young man knew well, and he was sorely troubled that the secret grief would never be communicated-- perhaps in a way that might give relief. would it be wise to force the subject, to venture an allusion to moses spriggins, and thus arouse the seemingly comatose condition of the dying man. "if i could mention the matter to marguerite," thought phillip, as he sat in his office for a few moment's respite after a day of toilsome labor over some perplexing law points in a case which gained much notoriety, and which had also gained for the leading counsel a reputation for earnestness and strict integrity that must inevitably be crowned with success. "if i could only ask her advice in the matter," thought he, "what a relief it would afford." but the words froze upon his lips, and marguerite remained as before in utter ignorance of the failure. "why do such questions arise," murmured the young man sadly, and his thoughts reminded him of the renowned son of jupiter dying of thirst with the tempting element raised to his chin, but could not partake of a single drop. "ah! there's many a modern tantalus," said phillip wearily, "many a tantalus." marguerite had received several letters from mrs. arnold, but they were vague, unsatisfactory and suppressed. there was an attempt at concealment that gave the girl much concern, yet she did not communicate the fact to mrs. verne. "poor mamma has enough to think of," thought she, "and as they say, it is no use to be borrowing trouble, so i'll hope for the best." could one have glanced into mrs. montague arnold's private life what a picture would be presented to us--one anything but pleasing to look upon--where alike was depicted disappointment, disgust, anger, sullen resentment and hate. add to this dissipation, an utter disregard for the home duties of woman, and one can form some idea of the unenviable position of this fashionable creature. of the husband what can we say? montague arnold is indeed far on the downward road to ruin. dissipation has made fearful ravages upon his hitherto handsome face, and in the bloated features, inflamed eyes, and idiotic expression, there is little left to convey an impression that the gay and fashionable world once coveted such a prize. the lowest gambling dens were now sought, and hour after hour the man sat side by side with the scum of humanity. his days and nights were scenes of carousal, his wife was left to her own resources, and his home utterly desolate. evelyn arnold had written her sister many glowing eulogies of hubert tracy's generosity, yet she did not acknowledge that to him she was entirely dependent. let us not utterly despise this young man. there was yet a spark of generosity in his nature and a desire to lend a helping hand to the needy. as hitherto expressed, with different associations hubert tracy would have been a different man. he began well but had not sufficient will power to resist the tempter and like many a promising youth who went out into the world with a mother's prayers ringing in his ears, stumbled ere he reached the first milestone on life's chequered road. hubert tracy was to a certain degree trying to make amends for the wrong he had done towards himself and towards his fellow man. when the face and form of phillip lawson rose before him with such vividness that he many times closed his eyes to shut out the sight remorse would seize upon him and hold him in galling chains, shewing us that the divine impress was not entirely obliterated from his nature and that some day one might expect a complete change. but of this young man's kindness to mrs. arnold. the latter had been accustomed to a lavish expenditure of money and now that her husband's means had been squandered what was she to do? appearances must be kept up at any sacrifice and without any apparent struggle. mrs. montague arnold received from her sister's betrothed a sufficient amount of money to meet her daily wants. every beauty has her reign and so with the beautiful evelyn. another queen succeeded and with many a bitter feeling the former is a thing of the past. men have ceased to rave over the dark-eyed syren and now behold her as a being of a secondary order. mrs. arnold attributed such slights to her husband's altered position and loud angry words were of daily occurrence until at last matters grew worse and they were completely alienated. it was now that hubert tracy proved himself a benefactor. he remitted money and strove to give the unhappy woman all the sympathy she desired. at times mrs. arnold's temper became ungovernable and as each annoyance crowded upon her with redoubled force it was anything but agreeable to listen to the frequent outbursts of uncontrollable anger or to look upon a face made hideous by those degrading exhibitions of a coarse and corrupt nature. let us now take a look at this fashionable woman as she is vainly trying to while away what appears to be a tedious morning. mrs. arnold has removed to another suite of apartments and the change bears heavily upon her. with an air of disgust she surveys the plainly furnished parlor and taking up a third class novel of the highly sensational type throws herself upon the chintz-covered lounge and gives way to a series of hysterical sobs more expressive of anger than grief. the once large lustrous orbs have lost much of their brightness and the oval cheeks have lost their beauty of outline, while the rich crimson hue has given place to a sickly yellow. even the toilette of the proud beauty bears traces of neglect. the rich and elegant dressing gown of cashmere and velvet had been converted into money and a dowdy-looking stuff wrapper supplied its place. mrs. arnold yawned and sighed wearily, then arose to look for some curl papers but finding the effort too much once more sought the lounge and novel. the sorrows of the heroine pleased her. "misery likes company," as the adage goes and mrs. arnold formed no exception. "yes," mused she, "her lord, like mine, proved a failure, but here the likeness ends--she got rid of him but there is no such luck for me. i must put up with his brutal insults, his coarse language, his murderous assaults--yes, i must bear it for better for worse until death doth us part--" "which i hope will be very soon, my dear, delightful spouse," cried a hic-coughy voice from an outer room and instantly the bloated face of montague arnold confronted his wife in tantalizing and brutal aspect. we will pass over the scene which followed, suffice to say that the inebriated husband finally betook himself to his room and--more beast than man--lay until he was sufficiently recovered to set out for the scene of dissipation to be enacted on the coming night. when quiet was fully restored and evelyn had once more found respite in her heroine's increasing woes a familiar step sounded in the passage. "come at last hubert, i wish you had been here sooner." mrs. arnold then gave an exaggerated account of her husband's proceedings, and began sobbing wildly and hysterically. hubert tracy did not like scenes, but he had to await mrs. arnold's pleasure. he had of late been trying to lead a better life and had given the slip to several of his debauched companions, but on the previous evening he had been unable to withstand their urgent entreaties and as he wended his way to mrs. arnold's residence his aching brows and dizzy head gave evidence of the sad fact. "i have had news from home, evelyn." "yes," said the latter faintly. "your father seems no better. madge has little hopes of him, and your mother's health has undergone a great shock." "no, doubt," was the sarcastic reply. "evelyn," said the young man in earnest tones, "i shall eagerly await the coming mail, for i have signified to madge my intention to cross the atlantic!" "so soon," cried mrs. arnold with awaking interest. "yes, evelyn, i cannot endure this suspense much longer. madge is the only woman who can reclaim me, and i must now insist that she will be my wife at an early date--at any rate i wish to be in st. john at the settlement of the affair. it has been a great mistake that i did not accompany your mother and madge." "oh, hubert, the thought makes me feel worse, if possible." "you will come with me, evelyn, and if mont sees fit he can shake off his fellows and come too." "i go home hubert! no indeed, i would rather die than face the people of st. john, ah no! you must say that i am looking so well, and so brilliant, and am so happy that i prefer english society to dull provincial life! "true, hubert, i have done much for you, and you surely will carry out my wishes." "i certainly shall, evelyn, and more than that i shall never forget that to you i owe all the happiness of my life." "you may well say so hubert. but for my scheming madge would have yielded to mamma's entreaties and became the wife of her pet--sir arthur." "well, it's all over, now," said the young man impatiently. "you never will have cause to regret the steps you have taken, and i trust we will be a happy family one of these days." alas! it is an easy task for us to propose, but the great disposer of our destinies finds it necessary to circumvent our plans and show us how utterly helpless we are. but we will not forestall events. we will calmly await the end, in a direct order comforted by the cheering thought that patience is a virtue and worthy its reward. "hubert, have you ever thought of phil lawson lately. i must tell you some news." mrs. arnold then, with greater gusto, referred to the fortune, and in sarcastic tones amused her friend with the great change it would make in the heir's position, and the brilliant match he would also secure from the same source. "so much the better," said hubert, "he'll not be poking his nose where he's not wanted." hubert tracy tried to appear as indifferent as possible, but in his own mind he was ill at ease. any allusion to phillip lawson opened afresh a very tender spot in his memory. "would to god the fellow were dead," thought he, "though he never did me any harm. perhaps, after all, he never would have had courage to propose to madge--but then its best to be safe." it would seem as if mrs. arnold had divined her friend's thoughts. "hubert," said she, rather excitedly, "i firmly believe, and will always believe, that if we had not taken matters in time that phil lawson, with his long-winded speeches, would have wrought a spell upon papa and so completely influenced him that he would have had madge body and soul, for i am certain that she was fool enough to encourage him." "i believe so, too," said hubert, dryly, and not at all pleased with the woman's reference to a rival. "it was only his poverty that kept him back. i tell you some upstarts of lawyers have impudence enough to face anything; indeed, when they stick out their shingle they think they are fitting match for a princess." mrs. arnold was sarcastic in the highest degree, and her expression was scornful as well. "and i suppose the forty thousand will assist materially in giving a little more cheek," said hubert, laughing. "you may bless your stars that it did not arrive a twelve-month ago," said mrs. arnold, in a teazing manner that was not at all acceptable to her companion. "ah, well, eve, let us think none the less of him. perhaps he carries a heavier heart than we would wish," and, glancing hurriedly around, hubert tracy bowed to his companion and passed out as if bent upon some particular errand. little did the thoughtless young man realize that this was his last conversation with mrs. arnold, nor did the latter, as she called to mind the fact that hubert tracy had, for the first time, addressed her familiarly as "eve,"--the name she bore in her father's home-- that it would also be the last. oh, well, this is one of the many lessons sent to teach us what we are, and what we should be:--, "let manhood think that death may come when least it seemeth nigh; and, though content with this bright home, yet be prepared to die." chapter xxxviii. confession and resolution. november's chilly blast moaned hoarsely around the heavy solid walls of "sunnybank," and the weird sound of the rustling leaves impressed one with thoughts alike weird and melancholy. marguerite verne sat in the library poring over some accounts. several letters lay beside her ready for mailing and as she glanced occasionally at the outer door she is evidently awaiting some person. the suspense is of short duration. a bright cheerful face is soon at her side. "you dear old coz, have i kept you long waiting?" "only two minutes," said marguerite glancing at her watch, then hanging the pretty bauble within reach added, "cousin jennie i believe you are equal to a time piece." an affectionate embrace was the outcome of the compliment and very soon the apartment looked brighter and more welcome. the fire in the grate sent up a more cheerful glow as if it were trying to shew its appreciation of the newly arrived guest. in fact all things animate and inanimate tried to do homage to the sweet and cheery jennie montgomery. the willing domestic who had answered marguerite's summons, had no sooner finished her task than a message was conveyed from mrs. verne's chamber requesting marguerite's immediate presence. jennie followed and her presence of mind soon quieted her aunt's violent fit of hysteria, and bathing the aching brows with florida water coaxed the restless woman into a soft and gentle sleep. "what would i do without you, darling!" said marguerite, her eyes filling with tears and then hastily shading her delicate face sought the nurse to make inquiries about her father. on being advised that it was better not to disturb his restless slumbers she instantly returned to the library. "it is cosey in here to-day, madge. just see how angry the sky appears. how fast the clouds are moving! look! they seem furious!" marguerite having finished her accounts, now looked about for something farther to do. her eyes were attracted towards a handsome volume that lay upon the sofa. its rich cream and gold binding giving a pretty contrast to the elegant upholstering of the said article. the first words that claimed the girls attention ran: "wake maid of love! the moments fly which yet, that maiden-name allow; wake, maiden, wake! the hour is nigh when love shall claim a plighted vow." hitherto scott had been one of marguerite's favorite authors, but now she threw down the book as if stung by an adder. her blood was chilled in her veins, and she seemed as if petrified. it were well that jennie montgomery was busily engaged looking over the broad rows of bookshelves in quest of some thing suitable to her fancy. it was also well that she found the desired volume and had comfortably seated herself for a good long read. cousin jennie might well be termed a book-worm, for, notwithstanding the fact that she was a clever housekeeper, an industrious handmaid and a skilful needlewoman, no girl had, considering her advantages, been a more extensive reader. she was conversant with many of the standard authors, could discuss freely upon the most abstruse subjects and also kept herself well posted in all the leading events of the day, a fact which goes to prove that there is no woman no matter in what circumstances, but can, if inclined, give some attention to the improvement of the mind, and make herself a fairly intellectual being. marguerite's thoughts were painful, indeed. "the hour is nigh," she murmured. hubert tracy's letter had arrived, and the well-known lines had doubly recalled the fact. "would to heaven that it might never arrive," then suddenly checking the wicked wish the girl exclaimed, "it is so hard to bear. oh, heavenly father, forgive my wicked, sinful heart." "madge, whom do you think i met as i was going along princess street?" jennie had now turned towards her cousin. her honest face was fair to look upon. its genuineness was stamped in bold characters upon the open brow and reflected in the clear expressive eyes. "why, none other than helen rushton. she has just arrived from fredericton where she has been for six weeks. she introduced me to her friend miss boynton who is such a nice-looking girl, not a beauty but interesting and very graceful." "she called a few days after i came home," said marguerite, "but i was unable to leave papa. helen is a good girl, jennie." "i always liked her," said the latter, putting a little marker in her book, "and i would give anything to have her visit us. mother seems much interested in her." "i think that i met miss boynton at mrs. greene's last winter. is she not tall and slight with auburn hair and straight regular features, with just enough hauteur to give her an air of quiet dignity?" "the very same, madge. you are quite an adept at description," said cousin jennie with mock gravity. "but i have something worth telling," cried she excitedly, "louise rutherford is engaged to mr. noyes. it is really true, for helen told me that she congratulated her, and she did not deny it." "i expected to hear it before this," said marguerite somewhat sadly. "they are to be married early next spring and most likely will go to europe." whichsoever way marguerite directed her thoughts there was always some reminder of her own gloomy prospects. louise rutherford's betrothed was an intimate friend of phillip lawson's. their interests were much in common and in their outward appearance there was a striking resemblance. "phillip will be the next!" thought the girl "ah, yes. heaven never intended that such a man would not realize his highest and fondest hopes. he will receive the congratulations of friends and i will smile and join the pressing throng, while my heart will ache and throb so wildly. but no human heart ever was so freighted with sorrow that it had not sufficient resisting power. ah, no." and the soft white palms are folded together as if the speaker had invoked a prayer. jennie montgomery had also been indulging in some speculative thoughts, for she stole softly to her cousin's side, and, putting an arm around the girl's neck, exclaimed, "madge, darling, i have longed for a good opportunity to say what i wish, and forgive me if i make you feel badly." marguerite looked at her companion, and her lips grew deadly pale, but her manner was calm, and not a shade was visible upon the madonna-like face. "madge," said jennie, with excited and wistful gaze, "tell me why you promised to marry hubert tracy. i am certain you couldn't love him! oh, madge! what has prompted you to do anything so dreadful?" marguerite verne sat like one in some horrible dream, not daring to move lest she might become the victim of some dread gorgon or fury. "speak, madge, or you will frighten me to death," exclaimed jennie, imprinting a warm kiss upon the cold rigid lips. the effect was electrifying. "oh! cousin jennie, you know all! i will not hide it from you. i am going to marry hubert tracy to save my father from the depths of poverty. poor mamma shall never know what i am suffering for her sake; and if i could make a ten-fold sacrifice, i would do it to bring my darling father back to life and health--but he shall never know--oh no!" "marguerite verne!" exclaimed the excited girl, raising her right hand aloft in wild, appealing gestures, "you will _never_ marry hubert tracy! heaven could not, or would not, allow it. oh, no, madge! heaven could never sanction, such an act. madge," exclaimed the girl, with all the intensity of her nature, "you are tempting the almighty." "jennie, jennie! spare me! oh, spare me! have some mercy!" cried marguerite, sinking at her cousin's feet, and clinging to her with the force of desperation. "ask me not madge. i can have no mercy in your case. think me cruel as you will, i will always be of the same mind, and mother is indeed, if anything, a great deal harder upon you." "she surely cannot be if she knew all jennie," said marguerite in wild, agonizing tones. "she blames you for not having sufficient combativeness to oppose the influence brought to bear upon you." "surely aunt hester cannot think that i would be doing right to go contrary to the wish of my mother--yes, and all." "she does, indeed. she says that you are to obey your parents only when their motives are honest and right, not otherwise, and you know well, madge, that your father, were he in possession of all his senses, would never sanction such a course; and furthermore, madge, i firmly believe that the very thought of it is consuming the few drops of blood that vainly try to give warmth to the broken heart." "jennie montgomery, if you have one spark of pity, forbear. it is cruel to upbraid me with being my father's murderess, when i would willingly give my life to save him. oh! jennie, you cannot mean what you say. oh! my poor father." marguerite was now an object of pity. her hands were clasped above her head, and in that half-prostrate position she seemed a living representation of some grecian maid who, more than two thousand years in the past, with like struggles, had climbed the marble steps leading to the acropolis and with lips pallid as the ivory temple near, wailed out her woes to the myriads of deities that met her despairing gaze. but for the nonce jennie montgomery had steeled her heart and looked as indifferent as a zeno. "it will do her good. there is more work on hand yet"--these and other remarks of a like nature escaped the daring girl as she rose to her feet and glanced at the angry clouds trooping along the grey november sky like hordes of insatiable warriors bent upon further deeds of prowess. "cousin jennie!" "yes, madge," said the latter going toward her cousin with as much composure as if their conversation had been of the most common place. "cousin jennie," said marguerite raising herself with an air of determination, "i thank you for your harsh but wholesome words. they have given rise to a train of thoughts which i shall soon put to the test and you, my dear, must await the result." "what now, coz? if it be anything that will relieve you from such disgraceful bonds, i will enter into it body and soul." * * * * * "better to-day, dearest papa? i am so glad," and marguerite rained kisses upon the emaciated cheeks. "and cousin jennie is here to congratulate you upon looking so well," marguerite now motioned her cousin to the bedside. "uncle stephen," said the girl taking the trembling hands between her own, "you must hurry and get well for i'm not going to leave here until you do." marguerite having supplanted the nurse for the entire afternoon and having taken the precaution to learn from the good old doctor that her cheerful presence would do good turned the occasion to the best possible account. side by side sat the two maidens in striking but happy contrast. cousin jennie's neatly fitting frock of wine-colored serge was relieved by point lace collar and cuffs, the work of her own deft fingers, while a cluster of white geranium served to complete the toilet and give a subdued tone to the highly brilliant complexion. marguerite's plain black cashmere with bodice of rich velvet harmonized most exquisitely with her soft _spirituelle_ beauty and set off the purity of the purely transparent complexion. how many have gazed with tearful eye upon that most bewitching of portraits, that of mary queen of scots in costume of black velvet, time-honored ruff, and as reminder of her belief, the massive jet crucifix was suspended from the most perfect neck that was ever fashioned by the hand of the divine craftsman. it is while gazing upon marguerite verne that our thoughts carry us back to the ill-fated queen and as we note the striking personal resemblance, thank a kind providence that the maiden's lot has been cast in happier days and in a land not blighted by the harrowing associations of those stormy times. but to our subject. the dutiful daughter goes softly toward the bed and raising the shrivelled hand from the snowy coverlid looks into the languid eyes as if she would read the thoughts which she now longed to hear. "papa i want to say something. will you promise me that you will not get excited. you know i am under orders." "nothing will excite me now my child. excitement is only fit for the people of the earth, and i am now already on the verge of another and i trust a better world." marguerite would fain have urged her father to forbear, but she knew full well that it was the truth. "well, papa, we are all in the hands of god. he will do what he thinks is best for us." the quivering lips and tremulous tones gave expression to the overflowing heart, but the girl bore up bravely. "papa, here is my accuser," said she, grasping cousin jennie by the hand and drawing her forcibly to his side. "now, dearest, tell papa what you told me in the library." cousin jennie trembled somewhat. she was alarmed lest her words might add to the grief of the dying man. but she must not waver now, and in measured tones she repeated almost word for word the same conversation which had so deeply affected the sensitive marguerite. mr. verne listened, and as the girl proceeded his eye kindled and his lips moved as if in deep gratitude. cousin jennie's eyes now flashed upon marguerite, and as if by intuition mr. verne's also sought his daughter. "my child, this may be the last question i shall ever ask you! answer me truly! do you love hubert tracy with a deep and tender love--such a love as a true woman gives to her husband?" there was silence deep as death, then a sweet voice, murmured: "papa, i know it is sinful, but i cannot! oh! i cannot love him!" "god be praised for these comforting words. come close my child." marguerite had her face down upon the pillow, calmly awaiting the loved voice--the voice that ere long would be silent forever! mr. verne had been tenderly raised to a sitting position, and supported by pillows, he was comfortable and easy. a smile lighted up his countenance and he looked calm and happy. "marguerite, my child, in presence of god and his holy angels, i ask you now to make me a solemn promise--i can ask you now, thank god, with a feeling of delight--promise me that you will from this hour renounce that bad and unprincipled man--hubert tracy." marguerite was bewildered. what knowledge had of late been imparted to her father? but it matters not. she is not to question, and with firm voice, exclaimed: "as heaven is my witness i hereby break the bonds that bind me to hubert tracy," and as if some invisible aid had been wafted from that upper world the costly solitaire, diamond dropped upon the floor and rolled into a darkened recess, where for the time it was safe from human eyes! chapter xxxix. a turning point. what a change a few moments often make! they seem of small note and yet to many lives they have wrought wondrous things. marguerite verne sought her father's presence with a heart sad as it were possible to be, and left it some time later with a new light dawning upon her. a ray of hope had given warmth to her whole being, and in the inaudible "thank god" what a world of gratitude was conveyed. but it must not be inferred that the girl had no misgiving. the picture of the disappointed lover hung before her as a reminder that her release was purchased at the expense of another's happiness. marguerite reasoned with herself. she was of a deep argumentative turn of mind, though her actions did not always endorse the statement. "how shall i ever have courage to write hubert!" thought she! "how shall i pen the words inflicting such a blow! poor fellow! whatever his faults are, and papa must know of some, i am certain he loved me, and would try to do better. indeed, the only consoling thought i had was being the means of making him a better man, but then, it is dreadful to think of him as having committed some crime! poor fellow! he has been led into it," and heaving a deep sigh of relief marguerite once more felt truly grateful that she had been rescued from a fate which now to her seemed terrible. "papa does not seem inclined to explain matters and perhaps is as well," said she, taking a small portrait from a cabinet putting it away in a drawer which she seldom opened. "i will not destroy it. poor hubert! some day i may feel even more sympathy than i do now;" and hubert tracy in miniature was consigned to its solitary resting place. marguerite verne's words were prophetic indeed. she had remained some moments in utter abstraction when cousin jennie hastily entered telling her that mr. lawson had just left and that her father wished to see her. "what an early call for mr. lawson," thought the girl as she went in answer to the message. mr. verne's face caused marguerite to clutch the chair beside her for support. "is he dying!" thought she, "dying, and our clergyman from home. oh, if he were here to give us comfort." but marguerite was mistaken. her father's voice was stronger than usual and his eye kindled with something of the old fervor, then drawing from beneath his pillow a slip of paper raised it to marguerite. the latter did not faint or indulge in any hysterical outbreaks as is fashionable on such occasions but quietly read the lines and with calm composure stood for a moment as if waiting for some one to speak. "may god have mercy upon his soul! poor fellow, he had passed away ere the letter could have reached its destination." mr. verne spoke these words in a deep reverential air. they were sacred to the memory of hubert tracy. poor misguided young man. he had gone out one bright sunday afternoon flashed with the anticipation of his fondest hopes and as he stepped gaily on board the saucy-looking yacht that awaited him at the pier a boisterous shout went up from merry-making companions. who among the lookers-on, glancing at the calm sky, would have then predicted the approaching storm. sad to relate none who went out ever returned to tell the sad story. some waterman who afterwards passed the spot brought back the tidings that the trim little craft was a complete wreck and that so far the bodies had not been recovered. strange as it may seem montague arnold suddenly aroused himself from his semi-brutal state and sent a lengthy cablegram to none other than phillip lawson. we will not question the motives which prompted this sense of duty. let us charitably hope that the impression left by the divine architect was not entirely obliterated, that his last generous act was due to that source. it was the evening of the same day that marguerite verne had received the news of hubert tracy's sad end. she was in her own chamber, locking perplexed and troubled. "am i to blame for his death? heaven forbid! did i wish it! ah no!" then she thought of cousin jennie's prophetic speech and a chill seized her as of ague. "it is indeed hard to decide between right and wrong. will i ever feel real happiness again! will not the bitter past come up and taunt me with cruel heartlessness. would it not have been better if he had lived! then i would have had an opportunity to know myself better than now!" what causes the girl to start? a well known step is heard on the stairway, and a voice that has power to thrill every nerve, is heard in conversation with cousin jennie. "i cannot see him," murmured marguerite, "i must not let him think that i am glad of my release." the cosey reception-room was directly underneath, and much of the conversation within could be distinctly heard. mrs. verne having sufficiently recovered to make her appearance now formed one of the company. her manner towards the young solicitor was warmth itself. it was painfully embarrassing to the sensitive girl to hear the labored speeches addressed to the guest. "it is better that i remain in ignorance, for such knowledge will only make me act more ridiculous, in fact, i would not be myself when i was prejudiced to such an extent." marguerite then arose, and stole quietly along the upper hall until she sought the curious-looking apartment already described in a preceding chapter. master charlie and several of his chums were seated around an old table and were having some fun over that highly intellectual game known as "old maid" or "old bachelor." with an air of gallantry the young gentlemen arose and each had an impromptu seat for the fair visitor. "we are not very presentable to ladies, miss verne," remarked a rather handsome boy of thirteen, possessed with that i-am-a-man look so amusing and comical. "oh, madge, what good luck brought you to our den? come let us make 'old maid' of you, i've been 'old bachelor' six times." "and he is afraid that it will turn out so in reality one of these days!" said out the lad who had not hitherto spoken. "i might as well be diverting these children as brooding over real and imaginary woes. it cannot be wrong. if papa could only look in upon us now as he often did." "i can stay a few moments boys--that is if you will be quick." and suiting the action to the words marguerite wedged in between two curly-headed urchins brimful of fun and mischief and ready for anything that might honestly be termed a good time. "i thought so," exclaimed the jubilant charlie, clapping his hands in wild delight, "madge is old maid." a round of applause greeted charlie's speech and amid the general confusion marguerite made a hasty retreat. mrs. verne's voice could still be heard but with increasing distinctness and her marked flattery was painfully distressing, but the girl was careful to avoid the trying ordeal. "eve's letter must be written before i sleep," and instantly marguerite was seated in cousin jennie's room, where a bright fire glowed in the grate and everything looked bright and cheerful as the maiden herself. "no gloom can come in here," said the girl in a manner that showed that she was trying to fortify herself against intruding thoughts. "hubert was kind to eve, she will surely mourn for him. he was more attentive than montague, and i believe had more sympathy." it was well for marguerite that she was ignorant of her sister's sadly altered condition. as she pens the lines she fervently prays that montague arnold may take warning from his friend's sad fate and that evelyn may feel more interested in her husband and give less concern to the fogies and recklessness of fashionable society. mr. verne's condition now appeared more favorable. marguerite was buoyed up by the thought that it was almost impossible that her father could be taken away from her. "a kind providence sees fit to restore him to us," murmured she as the door closed upon the venerable benign countenance of their much endeared physician. but the latter did not hold out false hope. when questioned as to his opinion he spoke kindly and said that he was doing all that could be done. another week had flown, and saturday night was ushered in with a quiet that was inspiring, reminding one most forcibly of the lines: "the cheerfu sapper down, wi' serious face, they, round the ingle form a circle wide, the sire turns o'er, wi' patriarchal grace the big ha' bible, once his father's pride." though saturday night at "sunnybank" presented a different scene the faithful picture was often presented to mr. verne in a way that filled his soul with a deep religious fervour and inspired him with a filial reverence for the time-honored custom of his worthy ancestors. but of the present. marguerite had been reading from the _church witness_, and having finished her task or rather pleasure, sat down upon a low stool beside the grate, gazing upon the red hot coals with a far off look in her violet eyes! "has phillip been here to-day, my dear?" asked mr. verne arousing marguerite from her reverie. "not to-day, papa." "i would like to see him this evening." "james can go for him if you wish, papa." "very well, dear, just say that i wish to see him, if at all possible." marguerite glanced at the tiny alarm clock that stood on the table. it was nearly eight o'clock, and in all probability mr. lawson might not be found at home, but she gave the message to the trusty errand boy, and once more was installed as watcher in the sick room, having an uncomfortable dread of meeting the expectant visitor. "james has indeed been successful, papa," cried the girl as she heard the well-known footsteps in the corridor, then hastily added, "i shall be in the library, papa. you can ring when i am needed." marguerite had not gone many steps when she stood face to face with phillip lawson. despite her efforts to appear calm the flushed cheeks were a sad tell tale. she reached out her hand in a friendly way but seemed nervous and embarrassing, a circumstance which might easily be ascribed to the painful anxiety that at times possessed her. "papa seemed so anxious that i proposed sending for you," said marguerite in her winning gentle way. "i am glad that you did, miss verne; i was just leaving the house as the message arrived." mr. lawson was soon seated beside his old friend. the latter, within the last few moments, had become much excited and the young man felt uneasy. mr. verne, having divined the latter's thoughts, exclaimed, "don't be alarmed phillip, i have much to say before we are through. this may be the last opportunity--the very last." "never mind sir, you're worth a dozen dead men yet," said mr. lawson in a cheerful voice. but the effect was lost upon the dying man. "phillip lawson," said he, his voice calm and distinct, "i have asked god to give me strength to-night and i have not asked in vain. he has been good and merciful to me through it all and on this bed of affliction i have made my peace with him." a tear shone in the listener's eye and fell upon the floor. "god has indeed been good to me. he has revealed himself in a number of ways. not once has he withheld his hand. the plots of the wicked have been frustrated. when their hands were lifted against me he laid them low in the dust. ah phillip, i have much to be grateful for." mr. verne then pointed to a small box which phillip brought to his bedside, when a small key was produced. "take this," said he, "and on opening the lower drawer on the right side of my desk you will see a miniature japanese cabinet. bring it to me." mr. lawson did as requested, and with trembling hands mr. verne drew forth a paper which he passed to the young lawyer. "there is a document, which doubtless you have seen before, at least i always thought so," said mr. verne, eyeing his friend with eager look. "i have indeed, sir, but never would have thought of it being in your possession." it is needless to add the explanation that followed, the reader being well acquainted with the facts, but we can try to imagine the joy that leaped into phillip lawson's heart. never within so short a time was realized more true happiness. "mr. lawson," said mr. verne, "i want to say a few more words. i feel that my days are nearly numbered, and that soon my voice will be silent. it is, indeed, a painful subject, but duty demands it. ah! phillip, what man would have acted towards that unfortunate youth as you have done. yours is a generosity that is seldom met with." mr. verne seemed for a moment lost in deep thought, then exclaimed: "ah! phillip, god's ways are wonderful. let us thank him that the barriers are broken down--that ere long you may possess the rarest treasure that this earth can give." mr. verne's voice sank into a deep whisper as he uttered the solemn invocation: "and now may the god of abraham, the god of isaac, and the god of jacob, rest upon thee forever my son." the icy fingers which had lain within those of the other, now relaxed their hold. mr. lawson seeing that the man was growing weaker, made an excuse to leave. "phillip," said mr. verne in a hoarse tone, "when i have laid in my grave for three months i want you to show my child that document. then plead your suit, and if from my home above it be possible that it is granted me to witness the scene, i shall pray for you both. yes, phillip, the prayer of an invisible presence shall light upon you and crown you with a happiness, that will have no end." chapter xl. time's changes--montague arnold. gloomy scenes are not agreeable to the general reader we will now pass over the period when death and its inevitable sorrow overshadowed the once festive halls of "sunnybank." a great change had taken place, yet when settlements had been made the estate was in a better condition than was at first supposed. the trustees were men of the strictest integrity, who made ample provision for the afflicted family. with feelings of relief and gratitude marguerite learned that "sunnybank" was to be sold for the benefit of the creditors and that a cosey little home had been provided instead. with mrs. verne it was otherwise. she went from room to room bemoaning her sad lot and wondering if any other mortal ever had such a cross to bear. poor woman! it was hard to teach submission to such a spirit. phillip lawson was a true comforter. he was not officious, nor was he remiss, but had a happy faculty of being near when he was most needed. marguerite was daily losing part of the disagreeable restraint which had hitherto placed such an inseparable barrier between them, and if at times she appeared forced and formal it was from a sense of shame at her mother's undisguised patronage. none could now execute mrs. verne's slightest wish in a manner like mr. lawson, none could give such friendly advice, in fact none could do anything but mr. lawson. the pretty suburban cottage into which mrs. verne and marguerite were now removed was indeed worthy the name of home. its surroundings alone were sufficient proof. in summer its neat garden front, vine-clad porch and graceful elms guarding the gateway! but it was when one entered the inviting hall and glanced through the several cosey rooms that the home feeling was realized. a tasteful parlor looking out upon the garden is the spot where we now care to linger, for seated in a familiar looking arm-chair is marguerite. she is busy over a piece of kensington work which has to be ready for the approaching bazaar. "it is well that i am of some service," thought the girl as she stitched away upon the pretty designs, admiring the artistic groups of lilies and fern leaves. clad in deep mourning marguerite was striking in appearance and the man must be a stoic indeed who could look upon her without feelings of tender interest. such were phillip lawson's sentiments as he was ushered into her presence. "miss verne," said the latter on being seated, "i have called this evening to convey a message from mr. spriggins." "was he in the city to-day--and gone back without calling? well that is too bad, for i had a message to send to melindy; there now, that reminds me of the christmas cards." "he bade me tell you that it was impossible for him to call to-day, but that he would bring melindy in on next tuesday, and i suppose from that you may expect guests for dinner." christmas was drawing nigh, and the "sprigginses" were not forgotten. marguerite had knitted a handsome scarf to gladden the large heart of moses, while a pretty tidy had just been completed for the new easy chair in melindy's best room. mr. spriggins had become a general favorite with the vernes, and also with mr. lawson. he had dined with the latter a fortnight previous, and left brimful of gratitude and good wishes. mr. lawson with all his integrity had been somewhat evasive, but bear in mind the fact that he is doing so from a sense of duty--a solemn obligation. he did not inform his fair companion that moses spriggins had been detained in his office for more than an hour, and that a serious compact was entered into between the lawyer and his former client. we will not relate the conversation that passed, but let the reader imagine the look upon moses' rubicund face when mr. lawson presented the missing document, and made the necessary explanation as to the means by which it came into his possession. "it is a miracle, nuthin' more nor less," exclaimed moses, his eyes dancing with delight. "things are a-turnin' out jest as i expected. wal, i do believe i'll beat that ere dr. wiggins yet! pity he wa'nt a kings county feller too!" "but queens is a pretentious county. she must not be set aside, moses," said the solicitor laughing. "wal, there's another subject i have to prophesy on, but i s'pose as your a modest sort o' chap will hold my tongue. (it was no later'n last night melindy was a-tellin' mother i was too long tongued), and i was only sayin' a word or two about some little family matters. wal, i'll keep dark a little bit longer," while mr. spriggins gave a very significant glance towards mr. lawson, and enveloping himself in his home-made ulster went forth to "bide his time." and now, while marguerite is striving to be happy and make others happy, attending to the wants of the needy and awaiting with anxious solicitude the arrival of the english mail, we turn to a darker and sadder picture. * * * * * "for god's sake don't let them carry me off body and soul! ah, they hiss at me with their venomous tongues! yes! yes, they are crawling over me! they are sucking the blood in my brain! evelyn, come to me! i will not send you away again. oh, take me out of this fire! i'm burning! oh god, i'm burning to death!" such were the incoherent ravings of the shabbily clad creature who had been found lying in a gutter at the end of a street leading to an alley in which were several notorious gambling dens. like the parable of the levite and samaritan many "had passed by on the other side," but there are good samaritans at the present day and one came in the form of an elderly gentleman with locks of hoary hair and a benign yet sad expression of countenance. he is accompanied by a sweet-faced woman and a delicate looking child with flaxen curls and eyes of heavenly blue. "stay clarice, we must see who he is, or why he is here," said the old gentleman putting the child in the care of a friend and hastening to the scene with the agility of youth. "that man was thrown out of that farthest tavern there, sir," said a raw-boned youth, who was standing with his eyes and month open awaiting further developments of the case then before him. "the same old story, father. they encouraged him until the last farthing is gone, and then he is turned out to die. oh! how horrible," and the woman laid her hand upon her father's arm as if wishing to get away from the sad and cruel sight. "he was once a gentleman, sir," said the youth with the air of one who knew much of the affairs of the neighborhood, and was anxious to impress the bystanders. the old gentleman beckoned to a couple of policemen, and thus armed made his way to the infamous den. the grey hairs and reverential mien pleaded more than the most honeyed words, and within a short time all necessary information was obtained. amid shrieks and groans, montague arnold was placed in a cab and conveyed to a public hospital, and the good, old samaritan went on his way happy in the thought of having done his duty. nor did he rest here. on the following day, after having made inquires as to the unfortunate man's condition, he set forth to find the destitute and unhappy wife. five or six hours search in a wretched tenement habitation, and a sad scene presented itself. after climbing the third flight of rickety stairs the old gentleman sees a shabbily dressed woman, and as he glances at the surroundings his soul sickens. all is drear and desolate. the apartment is cold, and a few coals seem trying to keep a little glow that the poor creature may not succumb to the pitiless element. some coarse shirts are lying upon the rude table--it is the same old song which hood made immortal:-- "stitch! stitch! stitch! in poverty, hunger, and dirt, sewing at once, with a double thread a shroud as well as a shirt." "do not fear madam, i am no bailiff. i have come to bring you to your husband," said the old gentleman in trembling accents. "oh spare me, dear sir! i never wish to see his face again! his brutal treatment has left me as you now see--this wretched hole and these dry morsels! oh god! did i ever think this would be my sad fate!" who could recognize in this wretched-looking creature any semblance to the peerless proud beauty--evelyn verne. ah, surely the proud soul must have passed through the waters of much tribulation--surely she is humbled in the very dust. "i cannot go, sir. oh no, i cannot go!" exclaimed the woman in piteous accents, covering her face as if to shut out the sight of human sympathy. "listen to me, madam," said the old gentleman in his soft touching way, and then the humiliated woman heard a tale of woe that entered deeply into her soul. what a change those words had wrought--such a change as mortal can scarcely dream of! "i will go with you, sir," said evelyn with tears streaming, down her cheeks. as she glanced at her threadbare garments a feeling of embarrassment was visible upon her emaciated face, but it was momentary. the good old man led the way and evelyn followed, but at respectful distance, and as the frowning edifice rose above them what mortal could have withheld pity for the almost demented creature! "if marguerite could see me now! and phil lawson whom i once despised. ah, now he is a prince indeed. i honor him above men!" what sentiments for evelyn verne! why such sentiments? one of god's messengers has at last struck the missing chord and awakened a flood of divine melody more acceptable to the quiring hosts than the lays of measured song. "this way, my child," says a benign matron in a kind and sympathetic voice, and mrs. arnold stands gazing upon the sadly bloated face of her husband. "eve, you have come! i am not deserving of such kindness--but it is nearly over now, i shall trouble you no longer. oh, if i could undo the dreadful past what a different life i would lead!" "hush, montague! we have both been to blame. not more than an hour ago i could have cursed you with my whole heart, but now i trust in god that i am a different being." the old gentleman had remained in the hall but was now summoned to the bedside where he learned the sad story of the wreck of two human lives. "i was selfish and wayward; heartless and cruel. many wrongs have been encouraged because it was all right in the eyes of the hollow-hearted fashionable world. oh! society! you have much to answer for!" mrs. arnold broke down completely, and gave way to heart-rending sobs. "let her weep," thought the old man, "it will do her good." montague arnold now raised himself upon the pillow, but the effort was too much, and he sank back exhausted, murmuring, "it will not be long." "oh! montague! my husband," exclaimed the woman, rushing wildly to his bedside, and putting her arm around his neck, "oh! my husband, you must not die. we will began life anew, and each hour atone for the past." "let us thank a merciful saviour that atonement has been made both for you and me, evelyn." "how came my husband to realize such a change," asked the grief-smitten wife, gazing sadly into the old man's face. "the good chaplain remained with him nearly all night, and on passing my house this morning came to tell us that the dying man had indeed become truly penitent." "thank god!" was the fervent reply. evelyn was now left alone with her husband, and she knew that it was impossible for him to live many days. she strove to smooth his dying pillow, and give all the consolation that lay within her power. it was indeed a sad but tender sight to notice the wistful gaze of the still lustrous eyes, the hectic flush of the wan cheek, and to listen to the spasmodic cough which spoke too plainly that hasty consumption had sought out its victim with unerring aim. the physician on going his daily round now entered the ward with a look of sympathy in his kindly face, and as he glanced at the careworn creature seated in a corner, felt a sudden pang shoot through his generous heart. another day dawned and montague arnold was yet on this side of the grave. evelyn went to and from the old lodging, with a firmer step yet with an aching void at her heart. why did i not see my folly ere it was too late? ah! mothers, why not educate your daughters to be sensible beings? but why do i speak now? it is too late! and drawing her shawl close to keep out the winter's wind the woman pressed on amid the surging tide of humanity, pressing against hearts, perhaps, heavy, as her own! "is it an apparition," thought mrs. arnold, as she stood for a moment to gaze upon a lovely child, standing besides her husband's cot. it was surely an angel in disguise sent to cheer his last moments. a bouquet of choice flowers shed a delightful fragrance. they are the gift of the child. "this is too sad a place for such innocence," murmurs the invalid, taking the bouquet and pressing it to his lips. "lalia is accustomed to such scenes, mr. arnold, i take her with me on my daily rounds, that she may see the sorrows of humanity, and i trust she will never grow so selfish as not to feel for them too." "may you receive the greatest reward," cried the wretched evelyn. "ah! much promise is in store for your child." the little one glided toward the speaker, and putting the tiny white arms around her neck, impressed a warm kiss upon the quivering lips. "good-bye, lalia! when you grow to be a woman wear this for my sake," and montague arnold took from his finger an old-fashioned ring--the gift of his dying mother. the child looked at the precious relic, as if it were too sacred to touch. then spoke her thanks through the soft dreamy eyes-- beautiful as an italian sky. "good-bye, lalia," and the child went forth with a sadness prophetic that from these icy lips those words were the last she would ever hear. and the child was right. on the following day as the sun was sinking in the west, montague arnold was sinking into his last slumber. respiration became difficult, and his words were almost inaudible. as his wife knelt beside him, and clasped the cold hands within her own, she tried hard to appear calm. "you forgive all, eve?" a kiss upon the rigid lips was the silent but expressive answer. a fervent "god almighty bless you," a faint sigh and montague arnold had sought another and we trust a better home. mrs. arnold is truly a widow in a strange land, yet he who is the husband of the widow has not forsaken her. the aged gentleman, his dutiful daughter and the lovely lalia have given her the warmest sympathy, and taken her to their snug and cosey home. only a few weeks had passed away since evelyn had written marguerite, but how much had transpired in that time? it was when she had received a second letter that the thought occurred that she had been remiss. "marguerite, sweet girl! she will never knew what i have suffered," and with these words upon her lips mrs. arnold sat down and penned as much of her sad story as she then thought fit to confide. "that is all," murmured the writer folding up the blurred page and addressing the letter. then for the first time since the days of her happy, sunny childhood evelyn arnold took up a neatly bound testament. she had an indistinct remembrance of something concerning the prodigal son and now wished to know for herself. the sad, pathetic picture soon possessed a charm and the story was read over many times ere the volume was laid aside. "thank god," mused the reader and the words were wafted aloft until they reached the ----"kingly palace gate; with frontispiece of diamond and of gold embellished." chapter xli. the living present. the bitter, cold days of winter are nearly at an end. the forces of nature are now exhausted and the elements have settled down into quiet rest. "how time flies!" exclaimed the solicitor glancing at the calendar opposite his desk. "three months to-day since i made that promise." phillip lawson looked happy. his office had a cheerful aspect, and his surroundings seemed to indicate that the young man was contented and happy. "four o'clock and the fellow is not here! well, i can afford to be disappointed to-day. it matters not." and putting on his great coat phillip lawson made his way down town and as he strode along at a rapid gate we were not surprised to hear one of the "oldest inhabitants" remark "gracious! what a fine strapping fellow that young lawson has got to be. i bet he'd turn the scales at one hundred and eighty." the evening of the same day another scene is before us. a graceful figure is seated beside the grate of the neat, cosey parlor which we have hitherto admired. a deep blush rises upon the maiden's cheek as she turns over the leaves of the handsome volume lying in her lap. what causes that blush? what latent property lies hid in a withered moss rose? what beauty to arrest a maiden's eye? these are questions to be decided by the fair ones who perhaps in like manner have treasured away, far from human eyes, a few, petals of a withered rose or perhaps "only a pansy blossom." ah, the tell tale crimson that will betray marguerite in spite of all her grand theories of will power! "it is phillip!" and the rapid beat of that uncontrollable organ sends the crimson flood surging over the marble brow with redoubled force. "pardon my coming to-night, miss verne. it is on a sacred mission--a solemn obligation to the dead." phillip lawson's voice was husky, and his muscular frame vibrated with the depth of emotion. marguerite grew pale, but the young man's reassuring words brought relief. "it is nothing to grieve for. it is somewhat unpleasant for us all, but we must not consider our feelings." a familiar face greets the young man with a pleasing smile. mrs. arnold is indeed a changed woman. she is now a true friend an honorable and honest friend. the once peerless beauty is no longer a silly, heartless nobody, but a being with feelings, and aspirations of a higher kind; and as she stands before us much altered in appearance, with much of the former beauty gone, we can indeed rejoice that in its place is a happy, soft subdued expression that makes even the plainest face comely and fair to look upon. "i am glad that you have come mr. lawson, i have been thinking of you the whole evening. i have so much to ask you about papa. it seems that i never can get him out of my mind. i can see him now looking so interested, just as he did when you happened to come to 'sunnybank.' oh! mr. lawson, will i ever cease to feel the deep remorse that is almost killing me." "that is just the way she goes on from morning till night," exclaimed mrs. verne, who now entered, and extended her hand to her guest in a quiet and kindly way. the young man was at a loss for words, and thinking it best to say nothing just then, suddenly held up the missing document. "this is the promise i made mr. verne," said he, addressing himself to mrs. verne, then placing the letter in marguerite's hand. the latter glanced at the contents, and trembled violently. mrs. arnold was the first to speak. "is it the confession of a murder, mr. lawson. it must be something terrible." "bead it for yourself," said marguerite, awaking from her stupor. "truly god has watched over us from the first. oh! mamma, think what i have escaped." "hush! marguerite. let us never refer to the past again," said mrs. arnold, with a calm resignation so characteristic of the noble spirit which now actuated her. "phillip lawson, you have proved the truest friend that my father ever had. you have been true to us all, and we little deserved such sacrifice. many a time i have held you up to ridicule when i knew in my heart that you were honest and good." marguerite had noiselessly stolen from their midst. she was deeply overcome and nature must have its way. "you will pardon me, mrs. arnold, if i give you the same advice which you thought fit for your sister--_let us forget the past and live only for the present_." phillip lawson was somewhat agitated. a clear, steady light shone in the intellectual gray eyes, and a noble resolve was written in relief upon the generous face. "mrs. verne, i have something further to say." and the young man repeated the conversation which took place when the document was brought from its resting place when mr. verne had invoked his last blessing upon those whose happiness was so dear to him. "mr. lawson, i will also add _my_ blessing, and may heaven shower upon you all the happiness that such as you deserve," then taking the young man's hand and pressing it to her lips mrs. verne withdrew to her own room. "bless you, phillip. you are all to me that a brother can be," and leaning her head against the stalwart frame mrs. arnold gave vent to the pent-up grief and wept like a little child. phillip lawson sat for some moments after they had left the room. his eyes were bent upon the floor and his face was grave indeed. "evelyn has told you all, marguerite?" said the young man rising from his seat and approaching the spot where the girl stood smiling through her tears--like golden sunshine through an april shower. "and i have come, phillip." who can picture the joy those words gave? "marguerite, my own! mine forever!" exclaimed the enraptured lover pressing the maiden to his breast and impressing upon her lips such kisses as only a pure, noble-minded man can give. oh, the bliss of that happy betrothal hour, when two souls are forever made one--when two hearts outwardly estranged at last find the realization of their earthly bliss! phillip lawson goes forth from the cosey home as the affianced husband of marguerite verne and with him go our heart's best wishes for a life to be crowned with all the happiness that this world can give. poor mrs. verne. she may at times have felt somewhat disappointed when she thought how surely she could have had a baronet for a son-in-law, but in charity for the woman's weakness we will forbear. it is really wonderful how quickly news travels. not a week had passed ere mr. spriggins came in with a double share of congratulation from himself and melindy. "i tell ye what it is mr. lawson, i'm ahead of wiggins, for i've never failed in one of my prophesies. they're every one a-comin' true jest as i said," and mr. spriggins slapped his friend on the shoulder with a force worthy his muscular frame. "you know i hinted about it at my weddin' and you looked sorter shy and put me off, and you had it in yer head all the time. wal, i'm beginnin' to think men's as deceivin' as wimin." mr. lawson made a few appropriate remarks and mr. spriggins began to think "it was nigh about time for startin'" when suddenly he jumped to his feet exclaiming, "i do believe i'd a-gone off without tellin' you the most thrillin' story that you'd ever heard. that ere thing just put me in mind of it," added he, pointing to a circular of the dominion safety fund. "i remember miss verne a-tellin' me that it was the best consarn in the dominion and i do believe now she's turned out a prophet too. now to my story (as they say in love affairs)," and giving his waistcoat a vigorous pull mr. spriggins resumed-- "you know them ere wiggleses that melindy used to be jealous of? wal, they had a cousin, jerushy cursye, and she married a fellar that used to work up at deacon jones's. wal, to make a long and a short of it, they were spliced and came to live on a new farm out in the backlands. wal, sir, they had a purty tough time gettin' along for the first year or so, but jerushy was study as a rock and made things go as far as the next one i kin tell you, and so when they were five years in the log house they began to think of gettin' up a frame house and puttin' on considerable airs; and one day i tackled bill and says i, look here, bill, if you want to make a good investment (a purty good word for me, mr. lawson)," said moses with a wink, "i'll put you on the track." "good gracious! yes, moses, says he, it seems i must have had sich a feelin' meself, for i was a-wonderin' yesterday what i could do to make jerushy and the family sure of a good livin'." "safety is the word, says i, and as soon as you could say jack robinson, i explained the bisness, and next day bill made an excuse to go to town and came home $ richer." "that was the man you had in here about a year ago," said mr. lawson, with an air of interest. "the very one. poor bill! he had no notion of cheatin' the consarn, for he was hearty as a bear, but he took a cold in the woods, and gettin' bad treatment it turned to consumption, and he died in less than no time. "poor jerushy took it dreadful hard, and the nabers was a wonderin' all the time how she could get along--for you know mr. lawson, that a farm ain't much good without a man or hired help. wal, sir, what do you think--it was no more nor three or four days after the funeral that a letter came to inform the widder that she was to receive $ for her late husband's policy. "well, sir," exclaimed moses, with a twinkle of the big blue eyes, "it was equal to a circus to see how the folks flocked from all parts to hear if the story was true, and i believe there was a good many of the wimin folks jealous of jerushy's streak of luck." the lawyer burst into a genuine and hearty laugh, then exclaimed, "moses i am afraid that you are rather uncharitable towards the fair sex." "wal, now sir, because you've happened to fall heir to a terrible nice gal, you needn't think they're all angels, for they ain't by a long chalk." mr. spriggins now made a stride towards the door. "bless me if it ain't later'n i thought. the goin' is terrible bad and melindy will be kinder anxious, so good-bye," and the loquacious moses made his exit in a style that might not, strictly speaking, be considered "good form." but the postscript most be attended to in the form of a second appearance. "i say, mr. lawson, when are you a-comin' out? can't you come some sunday, and bring miss verne and miss lottie and be sure and send us word, so as melindy can have a fire in the best room, and a dinner fit for city folks." "you may see us all out there some day when you least expect us," said the young man, smiling in his peculiar way. "all right, sir! off this time, sure. don't forget to tell the insurance man about the nine-days' wonder up at the crossin'," and with this parting injunction, moses disappeared in good earnest. an hour later, as the latter is jogging along the king's highway happy as mortal can be, phillip lawson is indulging in a quiet reverie beside his bright, cheerful fireside. though possessed of much means there is no attempt at display in the pretty tasteful cottage. the young solicitor had too much good taste, culture, and breeding, to follow in the wake of shoddyism. he was a true gentleman, and as such he cannot take a false movement either to the right or the left. what glorious day dreams can now be woven from the golden threads of happy thought? phillip lawson is happy, indeed. he thinks of the fair maiden who hourly awaits his coming with the flush of fond expectation mantling the delicate cheek, and as he gazes upon the faithful portrait of his betrothed, murmurs, "is there aught on earth so pure and true as thee my own--my marguerite." "confiding, frank, without control, poured mutually from soul to soul, as free from any fear or doubt, as is that light from chill or stain the sun into the stars sheds out, to be by them shed back again." chapter xlii. the northwest rebellion. "the great heart of the nation heaves with pride in work her sons have done well, and with a smile and sigh she weaves a wreath of bays and one of _immortelle_." --_toronto mail_ it is the spring of --a memorable one to many a bereaved household. the northwest rebellion is at its height and our brave-hearted volunteers are starting to the front "to do or die." on that lovely may morn many a patriotic mother looked on her first-born with a smile of encouragement upon her lips and a dull aching at her heart. and that boy's farewell kiss! it lingers, oh so lovingly, upon the quivering lips and pale cheek! but the brave soul can suffer this much and more if her country needs it. she can send all--husband, son and brother. ah, yes, the true heroes are oftenest found at the quiet fireside, or in some sequestered spot on a lonely hillside, where, surrounded by the orphaned ones, they struggle on and on--on to the goal where all such deeds are crowned with a crown of victory that is unfading. we need scarcely speak of that time when our beloved new brunswick mustered her little band of heroes, when each county gave its share, when each vied in patriotic ardor and enthusiasm. it is well known to all. and who among the countless throng that gathered at the intercolonial railway station of st. john did not feel a thrill of emotion that perhaps he or she would never feel again? and there were many of our friends--aye, all that could go--were there. marguerite verne, with face of angelic purity, stood bidding adieu to the dear ones. beside her was mrs. arnold draped in her mourning weeds and looking indeed a changed woman--a woman with a heart now ready to sympathize with others and ready to do aught that duty dictated. "i thought i'd see all the folks here!" exclaimed a voice and mr. spriggins is instantly beside them, his honest face beaming with patriotic pride. "wal, wal, it is wonderful to see sich a crowd. i wouldn't a-missed it for a good deal," cried he, looking around with an air of bewilderment. mr. spriggins soon became _more_ excited. the york contingent, including the infantry school corps, now arrived, and judging from the appearance of the surging mass that formed the escort and moved to the martial strains of the i.s.c. band, there never was a more genuine expression of canadian loyalty. and the eulogiums passed upon the worthy little band were heard on every side--"what fine, orderly-looking fellows. they'll compare favorably with any of the regulars." true saying, indeed, new brunswick has a right to be proud of her volunteers. they are ever ready to respond to the call of duty, and to the end maintain the reputation of the british soldier. but of our friends. marguerite felt sad indeed. she had witnessed the parting of an aged mother and her youngest boy, and a mist now shaded the thoughtful eyes. phillip lawson next joined the group. "i need not ask if you are going, mr. spriggins," said he smiling, "as i see you are minus the uniform." "but i'm true blue all the same, sir. i tell you the spriggins are never skulkin' when they're wanted. jim spriggins goes without any coaxin' and if it w'ant that i can't get away from melindy i'd go too." "your brother volunteered, i suppose," ventured mrs. arnold, with an air of interest. "indeed he did, ma'am, he and another fellar from the crossin', and i brought 'em down." mr. spriggins made a flourish with his brawny arm and beckoned to the young men who now were introduced, and received warm congratulations. as cheer upon cheer rose from the crowd moses became half frantic with enthusiasm. "tell ye what it is, mr. lawson, them's the fellars to scare the half-breeds. bet your life on't, they'll soon make quick work of the injuns round frog pond and cut knife creek." marguerite could ill repress a smile as she caught sight of lottie lawson's face, so expressive of quaint humor and mischief. and now the historic air--"the girl i left behind me," falls on every ear. those inspiring strains played by the nd fusiliers band as the train moved off amid deafening cheers and shouts of "god bless you," will ever be remembered as souvenirs of that eventful morn, recalling the enthusiasm which then burst forth from the heart of every true canadian. "it seems too bad that they had to go because riel had to get up such a fuss. why don't they get him and kill him off before he will have the chance of killing many of our brave fellows." the girl spoke with considerable force as she finished her speech. "bravo! little sister," cried phillip, patting the flushed cheeks by way of applause. "and you think the guverment did the square thing by them ere half-breeds, do you?" "certainly, mr. spriggins. what right had they to sell out their claims and go and settle on any place they wished without making any recompense whatever. how do you think affairs would end if they were allowed to go on without any stop being put to them?" "wal now, see here, miss lottie, i believe you'd make as good a lawyer as your brother. spose you've a-learned this from his discourse and sich like. wal, i b'lieve the guverment is right, and at the nixt 'lection i'll remember every word you've said. i allus thought they was the squarest fellars we've ever had yet--them fellars that got out this ere policy." "the national policy; mr. spriggins," ventured marguerite, smilingly. "people may talk to the contrary but it has done much to improve matters. i am not a politician but i must say i like the national policy and hope it may exist while there is need of it." "wal done, miss verne, i b'lieve you could lecture better'n some of them fellars that come up lection times. i'm sure they could'nt hold a candle to you." a general laugh succeeded and mr. spriggins was delighted to think he had made such well-timed remarks. the party had now arrived at the corner of coburg and charlotte streets when the latter hastily exclaimed. "by jiminey! i must go and see about a tub that a woman was to leave for me in the market. it's a good thing i did'nt forgit; for melindy would have my head off." "i don't think melindy is so dreadful as you seem to say, mr. spriggins," ventured lottie, who had gone a few steps in advance, but now turned face to face with the jubilant moses. "will we wait dinner for you, mr. spriggins?" asked marguerite, looking earnestly at the sturdy son of toil as if she knew the full value of the rough but generous nature. marguerite was one of the few who could fully appreciate the lines of scotland's gifted bard-- "a king can make a belted knight, a marquis, duke, and a' that. but an honest man's aboon his might, guid faith he maunna fa' that." she had moral courage to stand up boldly for those whom the fashionable world would sneer at. she was not ashamed to recognize a plainly-dressed acquaintance in the most public thoroughfare, nor did she ever make an excuse to be pre-occupied when approached by some coarse but well-meaning inferior. other subjects now crowd upon us. aunt hester once more gladdens the verne cottage with her cheering presence. sunshine follows every step of the happy and hearty matron. "_not a bit older_, you say, evelyn. now i did'nt come here to be made fun of in that style. it was no later than this morning that your uncle william told me i was greyer than he! now there's conflicting opinions enough for one day," and the hearty laugh that followed showed that mrs. montgomery was as full of life as ever. "william was afraid that you might grow conceited in your old age," said mrs. verne in a languid manner. to do justice to the latter it must be said that she was more natural than the mrs. verne of fashionable "sunnybank." "that's just what jennie told him, matilda," said mrs. montgomery, taking down a pretty panel that marguerite had just finished. "it is exquisite," added she viewing the picture from several points, in order to study the most striking effect of light and shade. "do tell me, matilda, have you ever heard of the lister family? did they go back to their delightful parnassus and revel in the music of their delectable castalian spring?" the mock gravity of the speech afforded considerable merriment. "you have surely heard of the grand match which urania made," said mrs. verne. "why it was announced in most of the leading canadian papers." poor mrs. verne! she almost betrayed her besetting sin, but mrs. montgomery, good soul, seemed unconcious of the fact. "only think," cried marguerite, "of urania talking up those sublime theories to sir george vandewater of cornwall." "a cornish knight," cried mrs. montgomery, clapping her hands with genuine glee. "and sixty years into the bargain," chimed in evelyn. "you are rather severe, my dear," said mrs. verne, addressing her daughter in a somewhat petulant tone, then turning to her sister added, "evelyn wishes to imply that sir george is sixty. i can't see that he ought to pass for an old man. i've heard that he does not look an hour over forty; and twenty thousand a year hester." "he needs it all! poor man! for he will have a sorry time of it," said mrs. montgomery in a tone of mock compassion. "but that's not the best of it, aunt hester, i must tell you the biggest joke you ever heard," cried fred. verne, now a handsome and intelligent stripling of eighteen, who had just appeared on the scene in time to have his say also. "you know that they went to ottawa about a year ago, and shortly afterwards i found a copy of the ottawa _times_ with an announcement that the misses delister of new brunswick were the guests of mrs. geoffrey renfrew." "delister," cried mrs. montgomery, between fits of laughter. "well, fred, that is the best joke, indeed! no wonder they caught the poor cornish baronet." mrs. verne did not relish her sister's raillery, but she had gained enough sense to say very little about the listers and their stroke of good luck. "i don't know how many letters i commenced with 'dear cousin jennie,' and just as i got the length of the listers new title something always happened to prevent my finishing." "you need not try to invent any excuses to cousin jennie for your remissness my dear little brother," cried marguerite, giving the youth a sisterly embrace with her fair arm, and running her fingers through the meshes of clustering curls. "what a pity we never thought of that dodge before," cried fred, brimming over with mischief. "i tell you what deverne would have stood high at ottawa." "can't you let the poor listers alone, fred," exclaimed evelyn, trying hard to look serious, as she glanced at the life of the house wedged in beside aunt hester on the dainty little sofa. evelyn now arose to give some orders for tea, marguerite glanced over the evening paper, and seeing that aunt hester and her mother were on the eve of a quiet chat went to her own room. it was in the gloaming and the girl enjoyed that hour more than words can tell. her thoughts were happy ones. all was now bright and fair, and if at times she took a retrospective glance at the unhappy past it gave her more cause to be thankful. it always brought up a quotation from a sermon which she heard in a church in fredericton-- "night shows the stars; affliction shows the man." and true indeed. affliction showed the true christian piety of the lovely marguerite. it brought out all the inherent beauty of her nature, and when on certain days she prayed for those who had been tempted to destroy the happiness of her betrothed it was always thus: "they are only human! god forgive them!" apropos of hubert tracy's accomplices, we may say they were allowed to go unpunished. "marguerite," exclaimed phillip lawson, taking the taper fingers within his own. "we are too happy to wish any ill upon a human creature. let us trust in god, they may yet to see the great wrong they tried to commit upon a fellow being; and may they feel such remorse as will be productive of true penitence." and the young man did not pray in vain. messrs. sharpley & connors felt much chagrined as they heard through the medium of the press of the prosperity of the young and talented lawyer and often experienced a feeling of uneasiness when they thought how matters might have terminated. and who will not say that at times there arose before them a great tribunal where they must answer for the projected crime. chapter xliii. the wedding anniversary--conclusion. "farewell! a word that must be, and hath been-- a sound which makes us linger,--yet--farewell." --_byron_. "gracious, melindy; one would think the half-breeds were a-comin'. for mercy sake come out and hear the rumpus." moses spriggins had rushed into the kitchen, his eyes ready to start from their sockets. melindy was busy frying pancakes and setting the table for the evening meal. "now, don't bother me; you see the cakes is a-burnin' already,"-- but melindy did not complete the sentence for the toot of a horn near the barnyard proved that her better half had some grounds for his conjecture. "it's a gang of roughs a-tryin' to git somethin' to steal. by jiminey! we'll settle em' sure as our name is spriggins," and moses made a rush for the guns and ammunition with all possible haste. "great scott! they're a-comin' round to the front door." "i say! mr. spriggins, this is a nice reception for invited guests; open the door and let us in." the words had the effect of magic. the door opened and revealed moses and melindy armed for fight with a good supply of ammunition in the foreground. the scene that followed baffles description. the ludicrous expression upon the face of host and hostess is something to be imagined. the roars of laughter were deafening and it was some time before phillip lawson could make an attempt towards explanation. * * * * * "a what-do-ye-call-it weddin', miss lottie?" cried moses, now re-appearing on the scene with his best clothes on, plus a flaring red necktie to match melindy's "peerin out dress." "a variety wedding, mr. spriggins. now, you are not to blame any of the others for not sending you word because i made each one promise that it would be kept a surprise." "wal, i can tell you, it is a nice surprise, but i felt kinder skeered at the fust, eh melindy!" the latter looked quite bridish with her maroon dress and lace ruffles and white flowers--the same which she purchased at manchester three years previous, still as fresh as if bathed in morning dew. and the number of guests! it was no wonder that mr. moses spriggins was in a state of dire confusion as he surveyed the smiling throng of intelligence, grace and beauty, and last, but not least, the pretty and becoming costumes of the fair wearers. foremost in the group is marguerite verne. "she looks too good for anything," says the enthusiastic host as he contemplates the sweet maiden in a neat black satin frock relieved by a spray of forget-me-nots and pansies. "and miss lottie, what shall i call you--a great big doll with a red shiny dress on." "moses spriggins, i'm ashamed of your ignorance; why it's pink veiling miss lottie has on, and i'm sure she looks nicer than any of them china-faced dolls in shop winders." "wal, wal, melindy, you wimin folks oughter know mor'n men folks," replied moses rushing out of the front door to see if the "hosses were all seen to." the best room never appeared to more advantage than on this festive occasion. the old-fashioned looking glass seemed to take pride in reflecting the pretty faces and sunny smiles, while the cheerful fire on the hearth played hide-and-seek with the brazen andirons, and sent out a glow of warmth that was emblematic of the big warm welcome of the generous family. each guest had to receive a share of mrs. spriggins' eulogium, and a lively time ensued. but the crowning event of the evening was a still greater surprise. mrs. spriggins had been summoned to the kitchen for a few moments, and on her return to the best room saw a sight that almost took away her breath. the tables, chairs, and every inch of available space were crowded with such, a variety of useful and pretty articles that one might imagine himself in blanchard's. poor moses was for the moment speechless, first looking at one guest and then at another. mr. lawson now came forward, and in a few well-chosen remarks addressed the host and hostess, and on behalf of the company tendered congratulations on the third anniversary of their marriage. wreathed in smiles the host arose to reply. "ladies and gentlemen," said the latter giving his cravat a very artistic touch, "if mr. lawson wa'nt a lawyer i'd a-tried to say somethin', but i can't get a word out nohow, only melindy and me will never forgit your kindness--and the skeare." the applause that followed was long and loud, and as the good host made a hasty exit from the room, marguerite did not fail to see the big tear that rolled down the sunburnt cheeks. "and you noticed it too, my darling," whispered phillip to his bethrothed, as he gained her side. "yes phillip, i was just thinking that those tears were more precious than pearls--the essence of real gratitude." "god bless you, my own," said the lover, seizing the little hand, and folding it so tenderly within his own. but the time is not for love-making scenes, and the pair are aware of the fact. marguerite is ready to assist in doing anything that she can, and the guests now begin to make merry in real earnest. a neighbor who could "perform upon the violin" was despatched for by the enthusiastic moses, and the light fantastic was in indulged in with a zest, and all is "merry as a marriage bell." let us glance at some of the familiar faces as they pass to and fro through the figures of a quadrille. mrs. arnold is opposite us, looking quiet and content. she is happy in the thought that she is trying to do her duty, and by striving to live for others to atone for the past. "you are doing nicely, mr. spriggins," says she to her partner, by way of encouragement. "i believe that you make fewer mistakes than i do." "wal, they say one has to creep a-fore they walk, so i spose i can't be a dabster at the bisness yet--but jist look at them folks." "them folks" were miss lottie and a graceful young man who bore a striking resemblance to the young solicitor. the latter was mr. tom lawson who had grown up an intelligent, manly fellow, and on having shown much ability as a civil engineer, had been appointed to a lucrative government position at campbelltown. lottie hailed with delight her brother's flying visit, and when the two sallied forth to purchase a neat and chaste toilet set her delight was unbounded, and when the said articles occupied a conspicuous place among the wedding presents no guest was happier than this impulsive little maiden. "but can't that insurance man fling himself in great style," cried the radiant moses, eyeing a certain official of the dominion safety fund who, at miss verne's request, was also a guest. mrs. arnold smiling at her partner's earnestness, cast a glance towards the object of the remark then replied, "it was so kind of mr. ---- to join us as his time is limited." "wal, one good turn deserves another, mrs. arnold, for miss verne praised up that consarn so that i went right off and got all i could to join it, so you see all through this life it's give and take?" "quite true, mr. spriggins, but we don't always live up to that principle," said the other with a shade of sadness in her tone. mr. spriggins had penetration enough to see in what, direction mrs. arnold's thoughts were drifting and his discretion came to his aid. "wal, this ere affair will be a nine-days wonder among the nabers, the folks will be so jealous that they'll not come to have a squint at the brick-nacks--that's what you call them ere ornaments and sich things ain't it?" "bric-a-brac, mr. spriggins," replied mrs. arnold, in the mildest manner possible; also trying to appear serious. "wal, i'll be jist like melindy. when she's a-puttin on airs before the nabers sometimes she'll tell 'em she ain't out enough now to know sich and sich things!" the music ceased before mrs. arnold had time to reply, and with an air of awkward gallantry mr. spriggins led his partner to a seat. "never say again that you can't dance, mr. spriggins," cried the exuberant lottie, bounding toward the latter with the grace of a fairy, "and be sure to remember that you are my partner for the next round dance." "round dance," said moses in perplexity. "a polka for instances, mr. spriggins!" "oh, yes, when i used ter go to school the gals used to have me a-dancin'--this is the way it goes miss lottie," and instantly mr. spriggins was performing sundry evolutions to his own accompaniment of "i've got a polka trimmed with blue." "if that moses ain't a-makin' a guy of himself a-dancin' i'd like to know," cried melindy, as she emerged from the kitchen and caught a view of her better half in his inimitable polka feat. but mr. spriggin was unconcious of the fact and nothing happened to mar the effect of the successful attempt. the brilliant louise rutherford might indeed claim more than a passing thought; her striking beauty was never more conspicuous that when surrounded by her most intimate friends and partaking of the hospitality of mr. moses spriggins. with due respect to host and hostess, the young ladies had appeared in their most bewitching toilets, and in response to marguerite's playful reminder, "louise, it is a wedding celebration," the latter had donned a handsomely-trimmed garnet silk relieved by a heavy gold necklace, while a broad band of gold crowned the dusky hair and made a fitting coronet for the dark-eyed houris. "i cannot realize that you are going away so soon, helen. it is selfish to wish that you would remain this winter, but self is my besetting sin." helen rushton put her plump white arm around the speakers waist, and thus they sat for several minutes. helen was to start for home on the first of the week following, and her companions could not bear the thought. louise rutherford loved the girl as a sister, and though their natures were strongly in contrast there was a firm bond of sympathy between them. "just think louise how many changes have taken place since i came? who then would have dreamed that josie jordan would become a clergyman's wife?" "think!" said louise, with considerable feeling, "i dare not let myself think, each day brings its own thoughts. life to me is made up of enigmas and puzzling contradictions, and not being endowed with an extra amount of brain power content myself with the comforting words--''tis folly to be wise.'" "what shall i call you, louise, a pessimist?" "for goodness sake! helen, be moderate. remember that a successful speaker always adapts himself to the capacity of his hearers." "what's all this about? preaching i suppose--something about hearers! jennie montgomery!" cried both girls in concert. cousin jennie was truly the ruling spirit of the party. she was ready for anything that was proposed and met each difficulty with a happy solution. had louise rutherford gone further into the subject of changes she might have claimed the bright eyed jennie as illustration. a change had come to happy "gladswood," leslie graham had won the esteem of aunt hester, and in return had gained the heart of her daughter. the fond mother does not regret her loss for she knows that the young man is possessed of all those traits of character which are truly noble and elevating, and which cannot fail to bring happiness to her whose happiness is his only concern. ah! yes, in jennie montgomery's face one can read her secret. she loves and is loved in return and that is all we wish to know. a few minutes later, by a happy coincidence, there is a quartette grouped together in careless but artistic style. "this reminds me of a morning at 'sunnybank.' do you remember it madge?" a slight quiver of the pretty lips was followed by a faint blush-- helen rushton raised her hand as if to gain audience. "that is intended for me girls. i am the only one who is not engaged. i was at 'sunnybank' on the morning to which miss louise refers, and certainly i was the one who made the remark." "helen is mistaken, i think," said marguerite in her soft, sweet way. "she is indeed," said louise, with much earnestness. "it was while we were in the library, and all sitting together josie jordan suddenly called out: 'girls where will we all be two years from now? that two years expired yesterday, and the thought now occurred to me as we became grouped together in the old familiar way." "forgive me, louise, darling, i am too impulsive. let us now take on two more years and hope that when the time expires we will be as happy then as now." "heaven grant it thus," was the fervent prayer of each, though the words were unsaid, and as the merry party returned homeward full of life and gaiety there were none who felt happier than marguerite verne and her three companions. * * * * * a glorious autumn day in brings together a joyous and happy group--the old familiar one. the hostess of the luxurious home is the wife of phillip lawson. ah! marguerite you can never lose your angelic beauty and softness of expression. in the violet eyes there is a light that sheds a radiance over the little household, and imparts a warmth to each suffering heart that has been chilled by contact with the selfish and calculating world. "helen you are a darling! you are true blue!" were the words which greeted the smiling visitor as she pounced in upon the fair young matron, with the flush of excitement upon her fair, broad forehead and oval cheeks. "girls you look charming! one would think you were expecting your beaux instead of a few old married men! why i thought when folks got married they did not primp at all." "i'm glad that you are agreeably mistaken, my dear," said mrs. noyes, her charms enhanced by the rich bronze silk de lyons, that set off her faultless form to advantage. mrs. arnold now entered, followed by mrs. verne and a host of hearty congratulations were passed around within a very short time. mrs. phillip lawson's boudoir was a perfect gem in itself, its pale blue and silver draperies harmonizing with the taste of its mistress, while the delicate and artistic touches of the graceful hand were proof of the labors of love there performed. "madge! you old dear, the only thing i envy you is this charming spot," said helen as she stood admiring the pretty work while the others are reclining upon the inviting ottomans, and cosey chairs of the most unique designs. "the very words i said when i first entered it," said cousin jennie, looking as youthful as when we met her at "sunnybank." "the effect of mind upon mind," said mrs. noyes, with a sly, roguish smile upon the red pouting lips. helen rushton threw herself into a handsomely carved fauteuil with cushion of pale blue satin, embroidered with a wreath of lily of the valley and soft cream roses. "how time flies!--two years girls, since we made our promise--and i am the only old maid left in the crowd. what a world of consolation is in that thought!" "helen rushton this is a fit place for your confession, and you shall not stir until you have made it, my precious one." the speaker was cousin jennie, now mrs. leslie graham. mrs. lawson sat for a moment as if buried in earnest thought, and as her companions glanced at the sweet, sympathetic face they were also affected in turn. the past with all its light and shade was lovingly touched upon, and as the gentle marguerite's eyes were dimmed with tears her heart was full of gratitude. helen rushton _did_ make a full confession of her love affairs, expressly for cousin jennie. what that confession was we will not say, but presume upon the imagination of the reader. it is several hours later. helen has retired to her own room, and her old friend lingers lovingly beside her. they chat of other scenes and other days, and the hour flies too quickly. a step is heard coming through the hall. ah! the magic of that step. "it is phillip, helen," and a gleam of love lights up the angelic face. "good night, dearest," exclaimed marguerite, embracing her friend in the old school-girl fashion. "good night, marguerite, if my life be indeed half as happy as yours; it is all i ask." "yes, helen, i am truly happy," and the young wife went forth to meet the loving embrace of a tender, true and devoted husband. "ah! my darling, where is to be found such happiness as ours?" phillip lawson needed no reply--no other language than the depths of those violet eyes. history of new brunswick _by_ peter fisher as originally published in (with a few additional explanatory notes) now re-printed jointly by the government of new brunswick and william shives fisher (grandson of the author) under the auspices of the new brunswick historical society st. john, n. b. publisher's notice. _the tale of the loyalists; their loyalty to high ideals of national duty--to fulfil which they underwent untold losses, privations and sufferings when they abandoned their homes and their all, and sought new homes and commenced a new life in a northern wilderness--is a story that appeals wherever patriotism is an honor and self-sacrifice a virtue. in this province of new-brunswick, settled mainly by families torn and rent by the american revolution and whose descendants are reaping the reward of their sacrifice, it is of peculiar interest._ _in , when peter fisher published the first historical work, the province of new-brunswick had received the loyalist immigration forty-three years before, at which date it was constituted a separate province. the progress of the country during a period when its political institutions and industrial life were in a formative condition is of deep interest. the account given of it in mr. fisher's work is of sufficient value in the opinion of the new brunswick historical society to warrant its being reprinted. in addition to the original work, there has been embodied with it, notes and observations prepared by the venerable archdeacon raymond and published in vol. x of the records of the society. a copy of the history not being available, this is printed from a photostat copy furnished by the dominion archives._ sketches of new-brunswick; containing an account of the first settlement of the province, with a brief description of the country, climate, productions, inhabitants, government, rivers, towns, settlements, public institutions, trade, revenue, population, &c. by an inhabitant of the province. "_whatever concerns my country, interests me; i follow nature, with truth my guide._" saint john: printed by chubb & sears, market-square. . to the reader. having at different times collected what information i could obtain relating to the province of new-brunswick, i intended whenever i had a sufficient fund of correct materials, to publish them in such a shape as to diffuse a general knowledge of the country, its productions, sources of wealth, &c. for this reason i had kept the different counties, as well as the several subjects of which i intended to treat, separate, in order to receive such additions as i could from time to time make. but as i am happy to find that it is one of the objects of the new-brunswick agricultural and emigrant society, to publish a geographical and statistical account of the province, as soon as materials can be collected, i have given up my first design--being convinced that such a society can collect correct information and the materials for such a desirable object with far greater facility and accuracy than an individual. in the mean time, i have given these sketches to the public, hoping they may serve to give a faint knowledge of the country, till a more perfect work is prepared. it is no small matter to give any thing like a full description of a new country like new-brunswick, where the compiler has but few helps--where there are but few written documents to resort to, and where neither animals, minerals, or plants, have been properly arranged; and where there are but few correct materials to guide him in pointing out the changes of the seasons and other natural phenomena, with many other things which are requisite in a complete description of a new country. the labour of even arranging the different parishes was considerable, which the statement of the population of the province, (had i possessed that document in time,) would have at once supplied. it was my intention to add a concise history of the principal transactions that have taken place in the country from its first occupation to the present time, from such sources both written and oral, as came within my researches; but have for the reasons before stated relinquished that design. the description of some of the counties is not so full as i could wish, but it may be observed this is but an outline of what i at first designed; and that the information i had collected of some of the counties, was very scanty; but that i intended to extend it to considerable length, as correct materials could be procured. having therefore abandoned my first design, i had to contract the description of some of the counties of which i had a fuller knowledge, to make the work more uniform; and not to appear partial to some parts of the province, or to have forgotten others. fractional accuracy cannot be expected in such a brief outline; neither indeed is it of much consequence. i have, however, endeavoured to come as near the reality as possible, and given as full a detail as the size of the work would allow. the author. chapter i. introductory remarks. _old settlers on the river saint john. new-brunswick erected into a government, and settled by the loyalists in - . difficulties of the first settlers. list of successive governors and presidents._ the province of new-brunswick formerly formed a part of nova-scotia, which was the first european settlement on the continent of north america.--the first grant of land in it was given by king james the first to sir william alexander, in --from whom it had the name of nova-scotia or new scotland. it was at that time regarded by the english as a part of cabot's discovery of terra-nova. the first settlers, however, were emigrants from france, who as early as the year came to the country with de mont, a french adventurer, and gave it the name of acadia. this country frequently changed masters; passing from the french to the english, and back again, till it was finally ceded in full sovereignty to the british at the peace of utrecht in . in , a number of persons from the county of essex, in massachusetts, obtained a grant of a township, twelve miles square, on the river saint john, from the british government; and after several delays in exploring and surveying, they commenced a settlement at maugerville. during the american war of , they were joined by a number of other families from new england: the district adjoining maugerville was settled, and the whole called by the general name of sunbury, where the courts of justice were held till : when the peace with america left the loyalists who had followed the british standard, to seek an asylum in some part of the british dominions. prior to this period a number of families from yorkshire in england, and others from massachusetts, had settled in and about cumberland, where many of their descendants still remain.--these people, actuated by different attachments, lived during the war in a state of hostility with each other;--one part adhering to the british, and the other to the americans. in the month of april, , about three thousand persons, men, women, and children, sailed from new-york for the river saint john; many of them being passengers, but the major part persons who had joined the british army, and were now sent to this country to be disbanded and settled. in the month of october following, about twelve hundred more arrived from the same place. those as well as the former had to seek a shelter from the approaching winter, by building log and bark huts; a few indeed were admitted into the houses of the settlers who had resided here before and during the american war. provisions and clothing were furnished by government for the first year, with a few implements to commence a settlement. lord dorchester appointed the rev. mr. sayre, george leonard, william tyng, and james peters, esquires, as agents to apply for lands and locate them. major studholm was soon after added to the number by governor parr.--this officer at that time commanded the garrison of fort howe, at the entrance of saint john river. these agents appointed the rev. mr. arnold for their secretary. the duties that devolved on these gentlemen were of the most arduous nature; they had however the satisfaction of receiving the thanks of the governor and council of nova-scotia, for their upright conduct in transacting that business. in the year , the present limits of new-brunswick were divided from nova-scotia, and a separate charter of a constitution was granted to the province, under governor carleton, with a council composed of the following gentlemen:--beverley robinson, gabriel g. ludlow, george d. ludlow, abijah willard, jonathan odell, james putnam, joshua upham, edward winslow, william hazen, gilfred studholm, and daniel bliss.--beverley robinson, abijah willard, and james putnam, died soon after, when beverley robinson, the son of the former, with george leonard, and john saunders, were appointed to succeed them. the above members of the council transacted the business of the province for a long while. governor carleton was authorized from the crown to locate lands to the loyalists and disbanded troops in proportion to their ability and rank. from this period the province slowly improved in agriculture, ship building, and the exportation of masts, spars, &c. to great-britain, and fish, staves, shingles, hoop poles, and sawed lumber to the west-indies. receiving in return coarse woollens and other articles from england; and rum, sugar, molasses, and other produce from the west-indies.--a town was built at the mouth of the river saint john, and another at st. ann's point, called fredericton, where part of two regiments were stationed till the french revolution.--barracks and other public works were erected in different places, and the upper part of the country settled by establishing two military posts in the interior, one at the presqu-isle, eighty miles above fredericton, and another at the grand falls, fifty-two miles farther up. but the difficulties to which the first settlers were exposed continued for a long time almost insurmountable. having been reared in a pleasant country, abounding in all the comforts of life, they found themselves suddenly transplanted to a wilderness with a rigorous climate, devoid of almost every thing that could make life tolerable.--on their arrival they found a few hovels where saint john is now built, the adjacent country exhibiting a most desolate aspect; which was peculiarly discouraging to people who had just left their homes in the beautiful and cultivated parts of the united states. up the river saint john the country appeared better, and a few cultivated spots were found occupied by old settlers. at st. ann's, where fredericton was afterwards built, a few scattered huts of french were found; the country all around being a continued wilderness--uninhabited and untrodden, except by the savage and wild animals; and scarcely had these firm friends of their country began to construct their cabins, when they were surprised by the rigors of an untried climate: their habitations being enveloped in snow before they were tenantable. the climate at that period (from what cause has not yet been satisfactorily ascertained) being far more severe than at present. they were frequently put to the greatest straits for food and clothing to preserve existence; a few roots were all that tender mothers could at times procure to allay the importunate calls of their children for food.--sir guy carleton had ordered them provisions for the first year at the expense of government; but as the country was not much cultivated at that time, food could scarcely be procured on any terms. frequently had those settlers to go from fifty to one hundred miles with hand sleds or toboggans through wild woods or on the ice to procure a precarious supply for their famishing families. the privations and sufferings of some of those people almost exceed belief. the want of food and clothing in a wild, cold country, was not easily dispensed with or soon remedied. frequently in the piercing cold of winter a part of the family had to remain up during the night to keep fire in their huts to prevent the other part from freezing. some very destitute families made use of boards to supply the want of bedding: the father or some of the elder children remaining up by turns, and warming two suitable pieces of boards, which they applied alternately to the smaller children to keep them warm; with many similar expedients. some readers looking only at the present state of the country may smile at this account as wildly exaggerated, and may suppose that the skins of the moose and other wild animals would have been a far better substitute for bedding. but i have received the account of the above facts, with many other expedients which were at that time adopted by the settlers, from persons of undoubted veracity, and who had been eye witnesses of what they related. it is, however, needless to enlarge upon the hardships they endured, as most of the sufferers are now no more. some indeed were discouraged and left the country; but most of those who remained had the pleasure of seeing the country improved and their families comfortably settled. many of those loyalists were in the prime of life when they came to this country; and most of them had young families. to establish these they wore out their lives in toil and poverty, and by their unremitting exertions subdued the wilderness, and covered the face of the country with habitations, villages, and towns. i have not noticed these circumstances as if they were peculiar to the settlers of new-brunswick; but to hold up to the descendants of those sufferers the hardships endured by their parents; and to place in a striking point of view, the many comforts they possess by the suffering, perseverance, and industry of their fathers. all new settlements formed at a great distance from the parent state, are exposed to difficulties, till the country becomes improved. many of the colonies in north america, when first settled, were more than once on the point of total extinction. the remnant of the inhabitants of some of them were even embarked to abandon the country altogether, when they were stopped by succour from home. the remembrance of the difficulties of the first settlers should make their descendants contented with their present advantages, and instead of wishing to change, to use their own exertions to improve the country, and duly to appreciate the many blessings and privileges they enjoy. under the judicious and paternal care of governor carleton, assisted by several of the leading characters, many of the difficulties of settling an infant and distant country were lessened. the condition of the settlers was gradually ameliorated; agriculture was particularly attended to: the governor himself set a pattern in which he was followed by several of the leading men in the different offices. a variety of grains and roots were cultivated with success, and considerable progress made in clearing the wilderness. barren seasons were sometimes experienced, when the scarcity of food was partially remedied by the exertions of the governor, assisted by several other public spirited gentlemen, who are now no more. after having governed the province for nearly twenty years--after having seen the country from a desolate wilderness rising to a state of importance among the surrounding colonies--after having seen the settlers placed in a state of comparative comfort and independence--and after having in every respect endeared himself to them as their common father and benefactor--governor carleton, in , removed to england, when the government of the province was administered by the following persons, under the style of presidents, till his death, viz.--g. g. ludlow, from his departure till february, ; edward winslow, esquire, from that period till the th may following; when he was succeeded by major-general hunter, who held the government, with the exception of two short intervals, (during which the government devolved first on lieutenant-colonel johnstone, and afterwards on major-general balfour,) till , when he was succeeded by major-general smyth; he having gone to england in , the government was administered by major-general saumarez; but was resumed by general smyth, in , who having again left the province, the government devolved on lieutenant-colonel hailes. on the death of governor carleton, major-general george stracey smyth, was appointed to the government by his majesty's commission, dated the th february, . governor smyth died the th march, , when the government was assumed by ward chipman, esquire, who administered the same till his death in the month of february following, when it devolved on john murray bliss, esquire. in the mean time, major-general sir howard douglas, baronet, had been appointed to the government by his majesty. he arrived in the province in august, , and immediately repaired to fredericton, and assumed the government on the th of the same month, and is at present ( ) lieutenant-governor and commander-in-chief of the province of new-brunswick, and its dependencies. the lively interest which sir howard takes in whatever concerns the prosperity of the province, may be best inferred from his own words in his address to the legislative body, and his speech at the formation of the agricultural society, which are inserted in full in the appendix to this short work. chapter ii. general description. _situation. extent. boundaries. face of the country. soil, animals. mineral and vegetable productions. inhabitants, religion, and government._ new-brunswick is situated between the forty-fifth and forty-ninth degrees of north latitude, and between the sixty-fourth and sixty-eighth degrees of west longitude. it is nearly miles in length, and in breadth, containing about twenty-two thousand square miles of land and water. it is bounded on the north by the river st. lawrence and canada, on the west by the state of maine, on the south and southeast by the bay of fundy and nova-scotia, and on the east by the gulf of st. lawrence and bay verte. it is divided into eight counties, viz. st. john, westmorland, king's, queen's, charlotte, york, sunbury, and northumberland, which are again divided into parishes, according to their extent, and will be described when i come to treat of the counties separately. this province is watered with several fine rivers which lay open the inmost recesses of the country, and are of the utmost advantage to the inhabitants in transporting the products of the forests to the seaports, as their chief trade consists in lumber and other bulky articles. it likewise abounds in lakes, streams, springs, and rivulets, so that there are few places unprovided with good mill seats or water conveyance. it is diversified with beautiful acclivities, hills and mountains, some of which will be noticed in the course of this work. the appearance of the country along the bay of fundy is forbidding, rugged and broken, and the soil indifferent. advancing from the sea-board into the interior the face of the country becomes more level, being interspersed with gentle risings and vales, with large strips of fertile intervals along the rivers, which being annually overflowed produce excellent crops. in many places along the margin of the rivers, the banks are high and abrupt, and to a stranger the land appears poor and hard to cultivate; but after rising the banks, and advancing a short distance from the water, the land becomes level, and the soil rich; being covered with a thick black mould, produced by the putrefaction of the leaves of the numerous trees with which the country is covered. in other parts the land rises with a beautiful slope from the water, offering many fine situations for buildings and seats. the land in some parts being a second intervale, and in others a good upland with a strong soil. most of the rivers have numbers of fine islands interspersed in their courses, which being chiefly formed by the washing of the currents, consist of rich alluvial soil, producing grain, roots and grass in the greatest luxuriance. these islands may be considered as the gardens of the country, which they enrich and beautify. the rapidity of the rivers, swoln by the melting of the snow in the spring, tears away the soil in some parts, and deposits it in others; by which means their courses are gradually altered; new islands are formed, and alluvial soil accumulated in some parts of the rivers, while it is washed away in others; and this is more or less the case according to the looseness of the soil, and the bends of the river: so that a man may have a growing estate, or he may see his land diminishing from year to year without the power to remedy it. as most of the settlements are as yet confined to the margin of rivers and streams, the country a little back is a continued forest, covered with a stately growth of trees, consisting of pines, firs, spruce, hemlock, maple, birch, beech, ash, elm, poplar, hornbeam, &c. in some parts of the country white and red oak are found, but in no great quantity; although men who have ranged the woods in search of pine, say there are large groves in the interior. the islands are generally covered with butternut, basswood, elm, maple, alder, &c. and in some places the same trees are found on them, as on the high land in their vicinity. as the climate of a new country, abounding with lakes, rivers and streams, and covered with close woods, which exclude the sun, must be daily altering as the country becomes cleared and improved: i shall hereafter notice some of the changes that have taken place in the climate of this province since it was settled by the loyalists in . the domestic animals in this province are much the same as those in the united states; many of the horses and oxen used in the lumber business, being annually furnished by the americans. the breed of horses has been improved by stallions imported at different periods from england and other places. in cumberland the inhabitants have paid considerable attention to the improvement of the breed of horned cattle; in consequence of which, and the extensive marshes in that country, their dairies are superior to any in the province. the sheep and swine are of a good size and various breeds. as agriculture has been much neglected in this province on account of the great trade that is carried on in lumber, not much attention has been paid to improving the domestic animals, till of late, a society has been formed, and cattle exhibitions instituted, which no doubt will soon make an alteration in that part of the rural economy of the province. the wild animals are not so numerous as formerly, and some species are nearly extinct. the moose or elk, which were found in great abundance when the loyalists first came to the province, were wantonly destroyed, being hunted for the skin, while their carcases were left in the woods, a few only being used for food, although their flesh is equal to the ox, and would have supplied the destitute settlers with animal food for a long while, had there been any effectual means at that time to restrain the waste of the mercenary hunter. so great was the destruction of those valuable animals, that in a few years they totally disappeared. a few have lately been seen, and a law has been enacted for their preservation; but they can scarcely be reckoned among the present animals of the province. the other wild animals are bears, foxes, wolves, caraboo, sable, loup-cervier, peaconks, racoon, mink, ground and red squirrels, weasels, muskrats, wild cats, hares, &c. with that valuable animal the beaver. the domestic fowls are turkies, geese, ducks, hens, and other poultry; and among the wild are, partridges, geese, ducks, pigeons, owls, crows, and swans; with a variety of small birds, which have nothing peculiar to render a particular description of them necessary. there are but few reptiles in the province, and those are harmless. most of the rivers are well stored with salmon, shad, bass, suckers, and herrings, with abundance of small fish, such as trout, perch, chub, smelt, eels, &c. cusks are taken in the winter, and sturgeon are taken in some parts, but not often. the bays and harbors are well supplied with cod, pollock, haddock, &c. mackerel are taken in different places at the entrance of the bay of fundy, and along the coasts. but little can be said about the mineral or fossil productions of a country which is yet in its infancy, and where the industry of the inhabitants can be more profitably employed on the surface of the earth than in ransacking its bowels. minerals cannot be procured and manufactured without money. to work mines effectually, many things are requisite that cannot be expected in a new country. such as capitalists who can risk money on experiments, and wait a long time for returns: for all property employed in the first working of mines is uncertain. the next thing is abundance of cheap labour--then a demand for the articles produced; next to produce it of such a quality, and at such a price as to make it find a market: with many other considerations sufficient to deter men who feeling themselves straitened in pecuniary resources, see the necessity of employing what little they possess in the way that will give a sure and quick return; and to such persons, the surface of the country covered with pines, holds out a more inviting prospect than the concealed riches of the earth. from the appearance of the country, there is reason to believe it is rich in minerals, and that the mountains contain ores of different metals in abundance; but as no attempts of consequence have been made to procure specimens or assay them, it cannot be expected that any particular account of them could be given in this short work. it is probable the time is not far distant when men of intelligence will turn their attention to investigate scientifically the different natural productions of the province. coals are found in abundance at the grand lake, and specimens have been discovered in several other places, so as to leave no doubt of the province being well stored with that useful article. limestone of a good quality is found in different parts of the province; particularly at the narrows, near the mouth of the river st. john, where there is not only sufficient for the use of the country; but to supply europe and america for ages, should they need it. gypsum is also found up the bay, near cumberland, and manganese at quaco. this province abounds in different kinds of excellent stone for building, and other purposes. grindstones are manufactured in abundance for home use and exportation. veins of marble, of different species, have been discovered, some of which have been partially explored, and small quantities manufactured. the vegetable productions are, wheat, rye, oats, barley, maize, beans, peas, buckwheat and flax, with a variety of roots, grasses, and hortulan plants. the fruits are apples, plums, cherries, currants, gooseberries, cranberries, blue and black berries, raspberries, strawberries, and small grapes, with a number of small wild fruits. butter nuts, a large oily nut, beech nuts, and hazel nuts are found in different parts of the country in abundance, and in many places serve for fattening hogs; particularly the beech nut, which after the severe frosts in the fall nearly cover the ground. there are no disorders peculiar to the climate. the air throughout most part of the year is very pure and the inhabitants in general enjoy a good share of health. whether the observations that have been made of the americans sooner decaying than europeans will apply to the inhabitants of new-brunswick cannot yet be ascertained; as the province has not been long enough settled; but there is good reason to believe that with temperance and care the human frame will exist as long in vigor in the latter as in europe.--another remark as a proof of the former has been made which is that the human mind sooner arrives to maturity in america than in europe; but this if true may be more owing to accidental than physical causes. their earlier marriages likewise proves nothing as they arise from the peculiar circumstances of the different countries. the inhabitants of new-brunswick may be classed as follows according to priority of settlement. st. the aborigines or indians. d. acadians, being the descendants of the french who were allowed to remain in nova-scotia after it was ceded to the british. they were called the french neutrals--their descendants are at present settled in different parts of the province and are considerably numerous and will be noticed with the indians hereafter. the old inhabitants, were those families who were settled in the province before the conclusion of the american revolution, as already noticed. they were so called by the disbanded troops and refugees who came to the country in , and the appellation is still applied to their descendants. some of those were settled at maugerville where they had made considerable improvements before the loyalists came to the country. a few of the old stock are still living, having attained to a great age. their descendants are however numerous, and by intermarriages with the new comers, spread over every part of the province. the next and most numerous class of inhabitants are the descendants of the loyalists who came to the province at the conclusion of the american revolution, and whose sufferings i have already slightly noticed.--these are the descendants of those genuine patriots who sacrificed their property and comfort in the united states for their attachment to that government under which they drew their first breath; and came to this province (at that period a wilderness) to transmit those blessings to their posterity. for although many of them belonged to the army and were sent here to be disbanded, they had formerly been comfortably settled in the states; and when it came to the trying point whether they should forsake their homes or abandon their king, the former was preferred without hesitation, although many of them had young families and the choice was made at the risk of life, and also with the change of habit from the peaceful yeoman to the bustle of a camp.--as however the choice was made with promptness so it was persevered in with constancy. the other inhabitants are emigrants from different parts of europe. in some parts they have obtained allotments of land and are settled a number of families together, in other places again they are intermixed with the other settlers and by intermarriages, &c. are assimilating as one people: proving themselves in many instances, good subjects, and valuable members of society. the last class that i shall notice are the people of colour, or negroes.--these are found in considerable numbers in different parts of the province. in some parts a number of families are settled together as farmers; but they do not make good settlers, being of a volatile disposition, much addicted to dissipation; they are impatient of labour, and in general fitter for performing menial offices about houses as domestics, than the more important, but laborious duties of farmers.--in their persons, the inhabitants of new-brunswick are well made, tall and athletic. there are but few of those born in the country, but what have attained to a larger growth than their parents. the genius of these people differ greatly from europeans--the human mind in new countries left to itself exerts its full energy; hence in america where man has in most cases to look to himself for the supply of his wants, his mind expands, and possesses resources within itself unknown to the inhabitants of old settled countries, or populous cities. in new-brunswick, a man with his axe and a few other simple tools, provides himself with a house and most of his implements of husbandry,--and while a european would consider himself as an outcast, he feels perfectly at home in the depth of the forest. in new countries likewise the mind acquires those ideas of self-importance and independence so peculier to americans. for the man who spends the greater part of his time alone in the forest, as free as the beasts that range it without controul, his wants but simple and those supplied from day to day by his own exertions, acquires totally different habits of acting and thinking, from the great mass of the people in crowded cities, who finding themselves pressed on all sides, and depending on others from day to day for precarious support, are confirmed in habits of dependence. hence the inhabitants of this province are men who possess much native freedom in their manners. this, from their veneration to their king makes them faithful subjects and good citizens, not blindly passive, but from affection adhering to that government under which they drew their first breath and under which they have been reared. in noticing the state of religion in this province, it may not be amiss to observe that the old inhabitants who came originally from new-england, where the genius of their church government was republican, were generally calvinistic in their modes and doctrine; while the loyalists and others who came to the country in , were generally churchmen, quakers, or methodists. the emigrants who have come since that period include all the above denominations. the church of england is in a flourishing state in this province; there are nineteen clergymen belonging to the establishment who are under the jurisdiction of the bishop of nova-scotia. many of them have handsome churches with numerous congregations. two of them are employed as itinerants for the vacant districts of the province, and several of the others serve two or more parishes--an ecclesiastical commissary has the superintendence of the whole. the catholics have a few chapels and appear to be on the increase. their congregations are chiefly composed of emigrant irish, french, and indians.--there are six clergymen in the province, some of whom are settled and others are employed as missionaries among the scattered french and indians. there are but two ministers of the kirk of scotland in the province; they have handsome churches in saint john and st. andrews. there are however a number of seceders from the presbyterian form of church government, but all holding the doctrines of calvin; several of them have commodious places of worship, and respectable congregations. there are no places of worship belonging to the quakers in this province. there are however, a few of these primitive worshippers scattered through the country, who joining sincerity and honesty with plainness, are excellent members of society. the methodists are a numerous and respectable body of people. there are four wesleyan missionaries in this province, with a number of methodist preachers, who although not immediately in connection with the missionaries, adhere strictly to the old methodist discipline and doctrine; and usually attend the conferences, which are held once a year, either in nova-scotia or new-brunswick; where the missionaries for the two provinces and the adjacent islands assemble to arrange the different stations of their preachers and regulate the affairs temporal and spiritual of that body. at these conferences young preachers are admitted on trial, and probationers who have laboured four years in the ministry to the satisfaction of the conference, are taken into full connection. the baptists are the descendants of those followers of mr. whitfield, who formerly were very numerous under the denomination of new-lights. about or years ago, a change in their forms and discipline took place among the leaders in nova-scotia, who adopted the mode of baptizing only adults, and the other tenets of the old baptists whose name they also assumed. there are however a few of the new-lights still scattered through the country, who carrying the levelling spirit into their religion, do not like order of any kind. they style themselves baptists, christians, &c. the baptists on the contrary have a formula of faith comprised in seventeen articles, and are very strict in church government. they are a numerous class of people, and have several fine chapels; they have however but few settled ministers, not having as yet made sufficient provision to supply their members with a stated ministry. they regulate their affairs by an annual association. in general a desire for the christian ministry is increasing in the province.--places of worship are erecting in most of the settlements, and such other provision for the support of the gospel provided as the abilities of the settlers will admit. the government of new-brunswick, like most of the british colonies, is royal and a miniature of the parent state. the other forms originally established in the colonies and plantations were charter and proprietory governments, which of late years have mostly given place to royal or monarchial governments, after the british model. the governor has a council consisting of twelve members, to assist him in the discharge of the executive duties of his station. these with the representatives from the different counties constitute the provincial legislature. the principal courts established in the province are the following.-- the court of chancery, which is a prerogative court, as well as a court of equity. the lieutenant-governor, or commander-in-chief is chancellor, and the justices of the supreme court assignees. the court of governor and council, for hearing and determining causes relating to marriage and divorce. the supreme court of judicature for the province is held in fredericton. it consists of the chief justice and three assistant judges. the terms are the third tuesday of february and may, and the second tuesday of july and october. the jurisdiction of this court is very extensive, partaking of the power of the courts of king's bench, exchequer, common pleas, and other courts in england. all civil causes of importance and capital cases are determined in this court. the present chief justice saunders, who presides in this court, the reader will observe, was a member of the first council in the province. he has ever since been actively employed in the first stations in the country, which he has filled with the greatest ability and integrity. he is the only survivor capable of filling a public station among all those who bore a share in the public concerns of the province on its first erection into a separate government under governor carleton. the salary of the chief justice is £ or £ sterling. the other justices have each £ sterling per annum. the justices, besides attending the supreme court at the seat of government, hold circuit courts in the different counties. the inferior court of common pleas consists of two, three, or more justices, who preside occasionally. they are assisted by the magistrates of the county. here civil causes that do not involve property to a great amount are determined, as are also crimes and misdemeanors not affecting life. the grand inquest of the county attends this court, when bills of indictment are found, which if involving matters above its jurisdiction, are handed over to the supreme court for trial. most of the police of the counties and parishes is regulated by this court, which is held half-yearly or quarterly in the several counties, as the public business may require. here the parish officers are appointed, parish and county taxes apportioned; the accounts from the different parishes audited; retailers and innkeepers licensed and regulated, &c. in short, this court exercises in many respects the same powers in the several counties, in regard to their internal police, as those that are exercised by the mayor, aldermen, and commonalty of incorporated cities. besides these courts there is a summary mode of recovering debts under five pounds before a single magistrate. the legislature of new-brunswick, like most of the british colonies, is a miniature of the british parliament, consisting of the lieutenant-governor, the council, and house of representatives. the governor represents the king. the council form the upper house, in humble imitation of the house of lords in england; and the representatives from the different counties forming the lower house, or house of assembly. the number of representatives for the several counties is as follows: for the counties of st. john, westmorland, charlotte, and york, four each; the counties of king's, queen's, sunbury and northumberland, two each; and two for the city of st. john, making in all twenty-six. this representation, the reader will observe, is very unequal. the county of saint john, which includes the city, having two more members than the extensive county of york, which includes the seat of government; and the county of sunbury, which is not as large as some parishes in the other counties, has as many members as the county of northumberland, which comprises over one-third of the province. it must indeed be admitted that saint john and sunbury are far better settled than northumberland; but when we look at the great extent of the latter, the numerous settlements and great trade in that part of the province, we must allow that the inhabitants of that part of the country have not an equal share of what may be considered the bulwark of liberty--namely, a fair representation. six members at least, would not be out of proportion for that large county. the assembly sits in the winter at fredericton: the sessions continue from six to seven weeks. its chief business is in managing the provincial revenue, providing for schools, roads, &c. and making such laws as the state and trade of the province may from time to time require. when laws are enacted that interfere with acts of parliament, they are transmitted to the king, with a suspending clause, and are not in force until they receive the royal approbation. chapter iii. _climate. produce._ as new-brunswick lies in nearly the same parallel of latitude as paris, vienna, and other places in europe, it would be natural to suppose the climate would be similar to those places; but it must be observed that cold is found to predominate on the continent of america. hence in places under the same parallels, the differences between the old and new continents, with regard to cold, is very great, and this difference increases as you advance from the equator. this has been supposed by dr. robertson and others to arise from the western situation of america, and its approaching the pole nearer than europe or asia, and from the immense continent stretching from the st. lawrence towards the pole and to the westward; and also from the enormous chain of mountains which extend to an unknown distance through that frozen region, covered with eternal snow and frost; over which the wind in its passage acquires that piercing keenness which is felt as far as the gulf of mexico, but more severely in the canadas, new-brunswick, and nova-scotia. the prevailing winds, from october to april, are from the north and north-west, during most of which period the air, though frequently intensely keen, is clear and healthy. december is a temperate, pleasant winter month. in january the heavy falls of snow commence, and the drifting storms prevail chiefly in february and march; but these are not so frequent as formerly, and the major part of the winter is clear, hard weather. in april the spring commences, and the winds are chiefly from the east north-east, which occasion dull, heavy weather. the rivers, lakes, and streams break up this month. as may advances, the weather becomes settled, and the mornings are uncommonly fine. the sun, which rises a little after four o'clock, diffuses his beams in full splendor through an unclouded sky. this is the usual month for sowing and planting on the high land. the intervale and low lands are generally later in drying, and are generally cultivated in june. the prevailing winds in the summer are from the south and south-west, veering at times to the eastward, but never continuing long to the north-west. in the first part of june the cold is considerable at night, frequently attended with frosts, particularly at the changes of the moon, which sometimes injure the early flowering fruits; and it is not till after the summer solstice that the night air loses its chilliness. this is no doubt occasioned by the snow, which lies undissolved in the deep recesses of the forest, as well as by the waters of the numerous rivers, lakes, &c. all which are swoln at this season; and by the cold acquired by the earth during the winter, which requires the full effect of the sun's influence, till late in june, before it is sufficiently heated. as soon as the earth is so thoroughly warmed that the nights lose their chill, vegetation becomes surprisingly rapid. in a few days, plants that appeared yellow and stunted, assume a deep green, and show a vigorous growth; and in less than a week, should a shower intervene, the face of the country exhibits the most luxurious vegetation, sufficient to astonish those who have only been familiar with temperate climates. september is a pleasant month: the air is serene and pure. the rivers and streams are usually lower this month than at any other period during the year, and the dry weather frequently continues till late in october. snow falls sometimes early in november, and lays till late in april; but this does not always hold. the rivers and lakes freeze up about the middle of this month, some sooner and others later, according to their situation. it is not uncommon to have frost in all the months in the year except july: for, as was observed before, it seldom escapes at the changes of the moon in june, and it frequently happens at the full in august, particularly on small streams. if, however, it passes that period, it generally keeps off till late in september. a stranger would naturally conclude from this account, that the season was too short and frosty for crops to come to maturity; but this is not the case. roots come to perfection and grain gets ripe in most years; wheat being oftener hurt by the rust than the frost. the springs are indeed backward; but vegetation is exceeding rapid, and the autumns are uncommonly fine. the changes of the weather are frequently very sudden. often in the space of two hours, (in the seasons of fall and spring,) changing from the mild temperature of september to the rigor of winter. this is chiefly occasioned by the wind: for while it blows from any of the points from the s.w. to the n.e. the air is mild; but when it veers from the n.e. to the n.w. it becomes cold and clear; and as it frequently shifts very suddenly, the transition from heat to cold is equally short. even in the sultry month of july, whenever the wind changes for a few hours to the n.w. the air becomes cool, elastic, and invigorating. this, as was before noticed, is occasioned by its passing over the immense continent to the northwestward, and hudson's bay to the northward. on the contrary, when the winds are from the southward and s.e. they are mild and relaxing, retaining a portion of the heat acquired in the torrid zone. the changes, however, are not always so violent. the weather often both in winter and summer, continues for weeks with little alteration in the temperature, and changes imperceptibly. the coldest weather generally felt in the country, is on or near the full moon in january; for it is not till after the cold has had some time to exert its full influence and chill the earth, that the full rigor of winter is experienced. the same is the case with the greatest heat in summer, being in july, after the sun has for some time exerted his full influence on the earth.--from observations made by several persons, it is well understood that a gradual change has been taking place in the climate on the american continent within a century past. the change in this province since , has been very great--the summers having abated much of their former heat, and the winters grown proportionately milder. neither are there such excessive droughts in summer, as formerly; the seasons being cooler, with more rain; neither does the snow accumulate to such a depth on the earth. this may arise not so much from a less quantity falling, as from the frequent thaws which now take place in the winter season. for several years prior to , the seasons had been growing gradually cooler--less warmth being felt on a mean in each succeeding year till , when the cold appeared to have arrived at its acme; for in that year it appeared to predominate: from whatever cause has not yet been ascertained. some ascribed it to spots on the sun's disc; others supposed that large masses of ice had been detached from the shores of greenland, and floated so near america as to occasion the uncommon chill of the air,--with other conjectures of a like nature, totally unsatisfactory. for spots have frequently been observed on the sun, and it would require an immense quantity of ice to produce any permanent effect.--whatever might have been the cause, it is certain the genial warmth of the sun appeared nearly lost: for when shining in meridian splendour in the months of june and july, a cold rigorous air was felt. there was a fall of snow, which was general over the province and extended to the united states, on the th june, to the depth of three or four inches in the northern parts of the country. this was followed by severe frosts in every month in that year. the crops were very light: fields of wheat were totally destroyed. even the never failing potatoe was chilled and did not yield half a crop. after this year the seasons began slowly to improve; but the shock given to agriculture, by the failure of several crops, brought great distress on the poor, and gave a check to the prosperity of the province. so great was the distress of the country, that the legislature applied £ , to be laid out in seed and provisions, and advanced to such as were in want on a credit. for a few years back the seasons have been favorable to agriculture; but the extremes of heat and cold in winter and summer are not so great, and the rains are more generally diffused through the year than formerly. i have been thus particular in noticing the changes of the seasons, as i think it would be a great advantage to the province if a correct register of the weather was kept, and the changes of the seasons particularly attended to, as it would furnish data to guide the farmer in his crops, by sowing more of the hardy grains, such as oats, barley, peas, &c. as the seasons, (judging by a comparison with former years) was likely to be warm or frosty; and not running so much on indian corn, which always requires hot seasons. had this been attended to in the cold seasons, less distress would have been felt in the country, as oats, barley, &c. generally did well, when the other crops failed. as i observed before, several causes have been assigned for the difference between the climate of europe and america, by persons who have investigated that subject. but the causes of the alteration that has taken place in the seasons in north america, remain yet a desideratum with the learned. whether the alteration is occasioned by the precession of the equinoxes, or by the position of our globe with the other planets, (for changes no doubt are taking place in the great system of the universe, which, though slow, must produce powerful effects,) or from whatever cause it may be, the effects are visible, and cannot reasonably be wholly ascribed to the improvement of the country, or any alteration that has taken place in it. new-brunswick appears to be but little liable to the great convulsions of nature, such as earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes, &c. there has been but one shock of an earthquake experienced by the present inhabitants since they have settled the country. this shock happened on the d may, , at minutes past three o'clock in the morning. the duration of the shock was about seconds. it was attended with the usual rumbling noise, without thunder, the weather being very serene and pleasant. the appearances, however, usually indicating earthquakes, such as fiery meteors, the uncommon brilliancy of the aurora borealis, &c. had been frequent the winter preceding. i shall now proceed to notice the principal grains, roots, and grasses cultivated in the province, and give as correct an account of their produce, &c. as the imperfect state of the agriculture of the country will allow. wheat is sown from five pecks to two bushels to an acre, and yields from twelve to twenty-four bushels per acre. twenty bushels is a good crop, on new land, although it sometimes produces more, when the soil is very rich and the season favourable. on old land the return is from ten to fifteen bushels per acre, the mean is about twelve. rye is grown on inferior lands. it takes about the same quantity of seed to the acre, and gives much the same returns. oats are much cultivated in this country, and generally turn out a good crop. the quantity of seed is from two to three bushels, and the produce from twenty to thirty bushels per acre. barley is not much cultivated, although it would do well as a substitute in frosty seasons. buckwheat is a grain that gives a large return for the quantity sown. it is raised on lands that are too poor to produce good crops of the other grains, and sown later in the season, so that the greatest summer heat may be past before the grain is formed in the ear; for should there be a few very hot days when the grain is in the milk, the crop would be destroyed. the same would be the case, if a slight frost should strike it in that stage. if, however, it escapes these casualties, to which it is liable, it turns out a good crop, yielding from forty to sixty bushels to an acre. there is a species of wild buckwheat, which is a surer crop, but of an inferior quality. millet has lately been introduced into the province. it is said to do well on most lands, but has not been much attended to. indian corn or maize, flourishes in high perfection on the intervales, which are generally composed of alluvial soil. it is usually planted in hills nearly four feet asunder. five grains is the usual quantity for a hill. it is a plant that requires a light rich soil, old manure, and hot seasons; should these requisites concur, a good crop may be expected. it is usually hoed thrice, and produces from twenty-five to forty bushels per acre. pease are a hardy grain, and produce from ten to fifteen bushels to an acre. beans are usually set in drills; they thrive well on light sandy lands, but are not much cultivated in the country. among the ground crops or roots, the most valuable is the potatoe--a root that can never be sufficiently prized, as affording one of the most productive and surest substitutes for bread of any known, and without which it would have been extremely difficult to have colonized these provinces. this may be reckoned the surest crop, and is peculiarly well adapted to new countries, as it thrives best on new burnt land. the usual and simplest method of cultivating this root is by planting cuttings of it in hills, about three feet asunder. this method is peculiarly convenient on land newly cut down, as the seed is set with the hoe between the stumps and roots with which the ground is covered, and where the plough or harrow could be of no service. they are generally hoed once in the season, and turn out in the fall a large crop of clean, smooth potatoes, of a superior flavour to those grown on old lands. the produce is from to bushels from an acre; although they sometimes greatly exceed that quantity.--they are an excellent crop for improving new lands; for as the culture is all performed with the hoe or hack, the small roots of the stumps are destroyed in planting and digging; for wherever there is room to drop an eye, it never fails to vegetate, working under roots and around stones, so that in the autumn the farmer has frequently to cut away or dig under roots for his crop, which often exceeds his expectation. in some parts of the province, where the lands have been long in cultivation, drilling is practised, and the labour chiefly performed with the plough and harrow; and of late the irish method of setting them in beds has been introduced. there are many varieties of this root cultivated in the province; but no attention has been paid to renewing the seed from the ball, which no doubt would improve the quality as well as the produce. several kinds of turnips are cultivated in this province; the best of which is the ruta-baga, or swedish turnip. this is an excellent root and cultivated with great success, particularly on new lands. they differ from the common field turnip, being of a firm texture they keep the year round; while the common turnip turns soft and unfit for use after the winter sets in. they, however, answer a good purpose for early use and for cattle, being sown late in july, after the other crops are out of the way. the swedish turnip is sown early in june. all the sowing in this country is broad-cast, the method of drilling being scarcely known. the other roots are, beets, carrots, parsnips, onions, radishes, &c. which are chiefly cultivated in gardens. there are a variety of cabbages, sallads, cauliflowers, squashes, &c. which are also cultivated in the gardens with great success. the principal grasses produced in the country, are white and red clover, timothy, lucerne, browntop, &c. good uplands produce one and a half tons per acre, and the intervale from two to three tons. there are several species of wild grass, such as blue-joint, &c. found in meadows, in the woods, and along streams, which make very good food for young stock. as no regular catalogue of the various species of indigenous plants has yet been made in this country, it would be useless to attempt anything like a correct, minute enumeration of them in this concise sketch. i shall, therefore, prosecute this part of the subject no farther, as i think the time is not far distant when this branch of the rural economy of the province will be particularly attended to; and that the societies which have lately been formed for that purpose, will not only develope and improve the native productions of the country, but introduce different species of exotics, as they find them answer the soil and climate. chapter iv. principal rivers and towns. _river st. croix. st. john. miramichi. mars-hill. city of st. john. fredericton. st. andrews._ having in the preceding chapters given a brief sketch of the settlement and face of the country, and noticed its climate, productions, &c. i shall now proceed to give a short description of the principal rivers, mountains, and towns, beginning with the river saint croix. this river was made the boundary between the territories of his britannic majesty and the united states, by the treaty of which describes the bounds as follows, viz. "that angle, which is formed by a line drawn due north from the source of the st. croix river to the highlands, along the said highlands which divide these rivers that empty themselves into the river st. lawrence from those which fall into the atlantic ocean to the northwesternmost head of connecticut river; thence down along the middle of that river to the th degree of north latitude, from thence by a line due west on said latitude until it strikes the river iroquois, or cataraquy," &c. the boundaries thus described, have caused considerable difficulty between the two governments, in discovering which is the height of land mentioned in the treaty; and in regard to the st. croix, it is supposed that the british commissioners were totally unacquainted with the river in question, and not aware that the lines proposed, if run according to the american construction of the treaty, would separate the british provinces of new-brunswick and canada. it is also probable that it was not precisely known at that time what river was meant by the st. croix, but that another river, more to the westward, might have been intended. this uncertainty about the rivers at that time might have arisen from the general name of st. croix, which was given by europeans to all the rivers falling into the bay of fundy, occasioned by the french on their first landing in the country, having erected crosses at different points, and named the places from that circumstance, the country of the holy cross. however it may have happened, difficulties ensued in ascertaining the precise islands in the bay of passamaquoddy belonging to each power, and the highlands meant by the treaty of . this induced the commissioners of the two powers at the treaty of ghent to provide against any misunderstanding on these points for the future, by the fourth and fifth articles of that treaty. the fifth article, bearing particularly on this point, states that "whereas neither that point of the highlands, lying due north from the source of the river st. croix, designated in the former treaty of peace between the two powers, as the north-west angle of nova-scotia, nor the northwesternmost head of connecticut river, have yet been ascertained: and whereas that part of the boundary line between the dominions of the two powers, which extends from the source of the river st. croix, directly north to the above-mentioned north-west angle of nova-scotia, thence along the said highlands which divide those rivers that empty themselves into the st. lawrence, from those which fall into the atlantic ocean to the north-westernmost head of connecticut river, thence down along the middle of that river to the th degree of north latitude, thence by a line due west on said latitude, until it strikes the river iroquois or cataraquy, has not yet been surveyed, it is agreed that for these several purposes two commissioners shall be appointed, sworn, and authorized, to act exactly in the manner directed with respect to those mentioned in the next preceding article, unless otherwise specified in the present article. the said commissioners shall meet at st. andrews, in the province of new-brunswick, and shall have power to adjourn to such other place or places as they shall think fit. the said commissioners shall have power to ascertain and determine the points above-mentioned, in conformity with the provisions of the said treaty of peace of , and shall cause the boundaries aforesaid, from the source of the river st. croix to the river iroquois or cataraquy to be surveyed and marked according to the said provisions: the commissioners shall make a map of the said boundary, and annex to it a declaration under their hands and seals, certifying it to be the true map of the said boundary, and particularizing the latitude and longitude of the north-west angle of nova-scotia, of the north-westernmost head of connecticut river, and of such other points of the said boundary as they may deem proper. and both parties agree to consider such map and declaration as finally and conclusively fixing the said boundary. and in the event of the said commissioners differing or both or either of them refusing, declining, or wilfully omitting to act, such reports, declarations, or statements shall be made by them, or either of them, and such reference to a friendly sovereign or state shall be made in all respects, as in the latter part of the fourth article is contained."--the fourth article here alluded to provides that "such sovereign or state shall decide ex-parte upon the said report alone, and his britannic majesty and the government of the united states engage to consider the decision of such friendly sovereign or state to be final and conclusive on all matters to them referred."--notwithstanding these precautions on the part of the agents of the two governments, the points alluded to are not yet ascertained or settled. but to resume the description of the river. the st. croix has two main branches, one inclines to the eastward, and communicates with a chain of lakes, some of which are of considerable extent, and lie near a branch of the penobscot river. the other turns to the westward. from this branch there is a route by a succession of lakes and short portages to the waters that fall into the river st. john. the lands on the banks of this river are of good quality, and have been well timbered; most of the pine has been cut off, but there is still abundance of other timber, consisting of the harder woods, spruce, firs, &c. there are mills erected on different parts of this river, which furnish a great quantity of sawed lumber annually. there are several falls in the river, which obstruct the navigation. there are, however, several fine settlements along its banks, and the adjoining country is first improving. river saint john. this noble river encircles a large portion of new-brunswick, and may be considered as the principal drain of those numerous rivers and streams with which the province is intersected. winding in an irregular semi-circle, it traverses an extent of about five hundred miles, and falls into the bay of fundy nearly in the same parallel of latitude in which it takes its rise. it may not be improper to observe, that most of the rivers and streams in this country were originally named by the indians, who generally, by the names they give, wish to signify something peculiar to the thing named; consequently the indian name of this river, which they call "looshtook," signifies long river.--it rises from lakes near the head of connecticut river, between the th and th degrees of north latitude, and stretches to the northward, beyond the th degree of north latitude, where it receives the waters of the madawaska river, which rises near the st. lawrence. it then inclines to the southward, and continues its course uninterrupted, receiving several large streams, till it arrives at the grand falls, in lat. ° '. here its channel is broken by a chain of rocks, which run across the river at this place, over which its waters are precipitated with resistless impetuosity. the river, just above the cataract, makes a short bend of nearly a right angle, forming a small bay a few rods above the precipice, in which there is an eddy, which makes it a safe landing place, although very near the main precipice, where canoes pass with the greatest safety. immediately below this bay, the river suddenly contracts. a point of rocks project from the western shore and narrow the channel to the width of a few rods. the waters thus pent up sweep over the rugged bottom with great rapidity; just before they reach the main precipice they rush down a descent of some feet, and rebound in foam from a bed of rocks on the edge of the fall. they are then precipitated down perpendicular cliffs of about forty-five feet in height, into an abyss studded with rocks, which nearly choke the passage, leaving only a small opening in the centre, through which the water, after whirling for some time in the bason, rushes with tremendous impetuosity, sweeping through a broken rocky channel and a succession of falls for more than half a mile, being closely pent up with rocks, which in some places overhang the river so as to hide most part of it from the view of the observer. trees and timber, which are carried down the falls, are sometimes whirled round in the bason below the precipice till they are ground to pieces; sometimes their ends are tapered to a point, and at other times broken or crushed in different places. below the falls there is another small bay with a good depth of still water, very convenient for collecting timber, &c. after it has escaped through the falls. here the canoes and boats from fredericton and different parts of the river land, and if bound for madawaska they are taken out of the water and carried or drawn, as well as their loads, across the isthmus to the small bay above the falls before mentioned, where they are again put in the water, and proceed without any farther interruption to the upper settlements and the canada line. the distance of the portage, including the windings of the road up the hill is about rods from water to water. flat bottomed boats, from fifteen to twenty tons burthen, can come from st. john to this place, which is a distance of about two hundred and twenty-three miles. no larger craft than canoes have as yet been used above the falls. this has not arisen from any defect in the river, which above the falls is smooth and of sufficient depth for large vessels; but from the habits of the french settlers, who are partial to canoes, which they set through the rapids with poles at a great rate, and with which they shoot the cataracts and rapids with great address. about a mile below the landing place a succession of rapids commence. the first from their appearance are called the white rapids. the banks are here every high, and the water being pent up by a narrow channel, rushes through the beds of rocks which nearly cross the river, and whirling about in their passage are forced over and around the crags in sheets of foam. a few miles below the falls the river is increased by the junction of the salmon, restook, and tobique rivers, which will be noticed hereafter. it then continues its course without interruption, receiving every few miles some considerable streams, till it reaches the maductic falls. its course is nearly south, and its width about a quarter of a mile, occasionally widening and contracting from the grand falls to woodstock, where it widens to near a mile and forms several fine islands. it afterwards diminishes, and strips of intervale narrow its bed. at the maductic falls its channel is again nearly choked up with rocks. the navigation, however, is not totally interrupted, for rafts, boats, and small craft in their descent are run through the falls by persons well acquainted with the channel; and in their ascent they are towed through with men or horses, and but few accidents happen, considering the numbers that navigate the river. as the bed of the river is frequently encumbered with rocks and sand-bars, the navigation is very difficult at the dry time of the year. the current is likewise swift in many places, and rapids are frequent, till within six miles of fredericton, where they end. about nine miles above fredericton the river suddenly widens and receives the madam-keswick. here is a group of fertile islands, some of which are over a mile in length, and nearly as broad. at fredericton the river is about three quarters of a mile wide, and flows with a beautiful unbroken current to the falls near the city of saint john.--a number of fine islands are scattered in different parts of its bed. these islands are composed of rich alluvial soil, and produce large crops of grass and grain. being formed by the washings of the river, they are like garden spots scattered through the country. about nine miles from st. john the river widens into a bay nearly six miles long and three wide. the river kennebeckasis falls into this bay. at the foot of the bay it suddenly contracts, and winds through a crooked passage called the narrows, and again opens and forms a small bay directly above the falls. here the current is again broken by a bed of rocks, and suddenly contracted by the near approach of the banks which appear to have been formerly united and forced asunder by some convulsion of nature. from the appearance of the rocks on each side it is probable that the water having been pent up in the small bay just noticed, have in their efforts to escape undermined the land and rocks at this place, and forced a subterraneous passage, which by wearing, aided by some violent concussion, has caused the rocks to fall in, when the earth being washed away by the rapidity of the current, has left the present passage open, and that the split-rock and the bed of the channel is part of the former overhanging rocks. for that the bed of the channel consists of cragged rocks of various shapes and sizes, is evident from the whirlpools and eddies at that place. these falls make a tremendous roaring at certain periods. after passing the falls, it forms the harbour of st. john, and falls into the bay of fundy in lat. ° ' n. the spring tides at st. john rise from twenty-four to twenty-eight feet. the body of the river is seventeen and a half feet above low water mark. when the tide has flowed twelve feet, the falls are smooth and passable from fifteen to twenty minutes. they are level three and a half hours on the flood, and two and a half on the ebb, and passable four times in twenty-four hours. above the falls the tides rise four feet. at maugerville, seventy miles up the river, they rise from one to two feet; at fredericton from six to ten inches, and are perceivable nine miles above that place, varying according to the phases of the moon. in the spring, the river, swoln with rains and the melting of the snow and ice, rises higher than the tides, which prevents vessels from ascending the falls for some weeks. river miramichi. this is one of the finest rivers for lumber in the province. its banks as well as the banks of the numerous streams that fall into it, are covered with pines of the finest growth, which appear to be almost inexhaustable, for although lumbering has been prosecuted on this river to a great extent for a number of years past, there is still abundance found by going a little back from the water. it is indeed the main source of the trade of the large county of northumberland. one hundred and forty-one thousand three hundred and eighty-four tons of timber were shipped at the port of miramichi in . rafts are taken down this river with the greatest safety to the shipping, which load at different places from the mouth of the river up to fraser's island. it has two main branches called the north-west and south-west, which run a great way into the country, and with their numerous streams lay open the inmost recesses of this extensive county. several fine islands lay in the course of this river, covered with elm, ash, butternut, &c. which invariably denote the most luxurious soil. its waters are well stored with excellent salmon and other fish, which are caught here in great abundance. there are several settlements along this river, none of which merit a particular description, the improvement of the country being neglected for lumbering. the branches of this river approach in several places very near to streams falling into the river st. john, which communicate by short portages. as i have never been able to procure correct information about the sources of this river or its length, i have not the means of satisfying the reader on these points, but must dismiss the subject with these few particulars, being all i could obtain. as was observed in the commencement of this work, this country is so intersected with rivers, streams, and lakes, that with small portages persons can go to most parts of the province in a canoe. there is a route from the madawaska river to the bay of chaleur, and another from the river st. john by the grand river, which is fifteen miles above the great falls, to the ristagouche. the river chicktahawk, which falls into the st. john near the presque-isle, runs near a branch of the miramichi; a short portage connects the route. the route from the st. croix to the st. john is first by a chain of lakes with short portages, and next by eel river, which falls into the st. john about fifty miles above fredericton. there is another route from the st. john to the miramichi, by the way of the jemseg, through the grand lake and up salmon river, from whence there is a short portage to the river etienne which falls into the miramichi; with several other such communications where the streams of the different large rivers nearly approach each other. the mountains and hills with which the province is diversified, have nothing peculiar to merit a particular description, except mars hill, which has excited considerable interest, being supposed by the british commissioners under the treaty of ghent to be the height of land intended by the treaty of , and that consequently the boundary line between the territories of the united states and the british provinces should take a new direction at that place. this is resisted by the american commissioners, who wish to prolong the line beyond that point. this is an object of great importance to the two powers, for should the line be continued in the old direction, which at this point approaches very near the river st. john, it would cross that river a little above the grand falls, and would not only separate new-brunswick and canada, but likewise give the americans the upper part of the county of york which joins canada, with a large settlement of french at madawaska--mars hill lies about six miles from the river st. john, on the western side, about one hundred miles above fredericton. it can be seen from the high lands on the opposite side of the river, and appears at that distance majestically towering above the adjacent country. on approaching the mountain the woods are open and the ascent commences with an easy swell about half a mile from the main hill, after which the ascent is more abrupt, and in some parts nearly perpendicular. having reached the crest, the spectator has a clear expanse of horizon, being completely above the surrounding country. from hence he views a boundless forest beneath his feet. the hills appear like waves covered with their green foliage of different shades, from the various sorts of trees with which their brows are covered. in different places the more elevated hills appear rising above the others like towers. facing the river st. john, he beholds moose mountain at about nine miles distant on the opposite side of the river, which is nearly as high as mars hill, and perpendicular on the north side. to his left are a range of lofty hills on the restook; to his right he has a distant view of houlton-plantation, and in his rear, as far as his eye can reach, are the lofty catardhan mountains on the penobscot river; the intermediate space exhibiting an undulating forest of boundless variety of hills and vallies, lakes, &c. the whole forming a grand and interesting spectacle. the mountain is about three miles in length, very narrow, and divided by a hollow near the centre. a small spot has been cut down on each end of the hill, and a temporary observatory erected by the commissioners under the treaty of ghent. the americans have laid out a settlement in this part of the country, which takes in mars hill. the base of the mountain is washed by the presque-isle river, and other streams which fall into the river st. john. the principal towns in new-brunswick are saint john, fredericton, and saint andrews; which on account of their importance and situation will be treated of separately. leaving the other places to be noticed as they occur in the description of the several counties, i shall proceed to give a short description of the situation, trade, public buildings, and institutions of the places just mentioned; commencing with the city of saint john. the city of st. john is situated in the county of that name, on a rocky peninsula at the estuary of the river st. john, in lat. ° ´ north, long. ° ´ west. the city comprehends both sides of the river. the district on the eastern side of the harbour, formerly called the township of parr, and carleton on the western side. it is divided into six wards, two of which are in carleton and four in st. john, properly so called. it contains, according to the late census, , inhabitants of all descriptions. like most english towns, the streets in st. john intersect each other at right angles. they are in some parts well built up, the houses being of different heights and joining each other for some distance, forming several fine ranges of buildings. the first houses in this place were constructed of wood, many of them were low and ill shaped. these when removed by fires or other causes, are generally replaced with handsome brick buildings, which is making a great improvement in the appearance of the city. the streets, likewise, which were formerly nearly impassable from rocks, hills and chasms, are rapidly improving; hollows have been filled up, and rocks cut away; so that although the hills in some parts are still steep, yet carriages drive through most part of the city with the greatest safety. a projecting point near the entrance of the harbour, has caused the different parts of the city to be distinguished by the name of the upper and lower coves; the latter of which has been much neglected till lately, government having built a handsome range of barracks on the point fronting the bay of fundy, and removed the troops, &c. from fort howe to that station, it is beginning to improve. most all the trade of the city is carried on in the upper part of the town, where there are a number of warehouses, stores, wharves, and other conveniences for lading and unlading ships. the tides rise to such a height that large ships can lay at the wharves and discharge with the greatest safety. the harbour is convenient and safe, and capable of containing a great number of vessels of the largest description. partridge island lies at the entrance, on which there is a light house, and signal station, where signals are carefully attended to and made on the first approach of vessels. these signals are repeated at fort howe. within the island there is a bar which extends from the western side, and passes the lower point of the peninsula, on which the city stands. it has a beacon on the outer end, and a buoy to direct vessels coming or going. the bar is dry at ebb tides, but within the harbour there is sufficient water for the largest ships. the tide ebbs and flows from sixteen to twenty-four feet perpendicular in this harbour. a pier has been constructed at the entrance of the harbour for the protection of the shipping. st. john carries on a brisk trade with europe, the west indies and the united states, in lumber of different descriptions, fish, gypsum, grindstones, &c.; but the staple article is squared timber, one hundred and fourteen thousand one hundred and sixteen tons of which were shipped from this port in . ship-building has also been lately revived here and prosecuted to a considerable extent. sixty vessels were registered at this port in , whose tonnage amounted to sixteen thousand four hundred and eighty-nine tons, besides three ships and five brigs not in the above estimate. part of these were built in st. john, and the remainder up the rivers and along the coasts for merchants in the city. the city of st. john contains two churches on the eastern side of the river, one of which is neatly finished and has an elegant organ; a handsome kirk belonging to the members of the church of scotland; a catholic chapel; two methodist chapels, one belonging to the wesleyan methodists, and the other to a number of that persuasion who seceded with mr. priestley, and a neat baptist meeting-house.--the other public buildings are a poor house, a gaol, a marine hospital, with two handsome ranges of barracks lately erected at the lower cove, with government stores, houses, &c. a square near york-point, reserved for a market, &c. has an old building in the centre, the upper part of which has served for many years as a court-house, and the under part as a flesh market; a fish and vegetable market having been lately built contiguous to it, at the edge of high water mark, and a handsome flesh market in the lower cove, which are generally well supplied. king's-square is situated on the height of land in king-street, and is reserved for public uses. it is a very pleasant situation commanding a fine view of the city and harbour. it is in contemplation to erect a court house on the east side of this square on a liberal scale.--queen's-square is situated in duke's ward, and is also reserved for public uses. the public seminaries in st. john, are a grammar school, the central madras school, and a number of sunday schools. there are two public libraries in the city, a vaccine establishment, three printing offices, with the following religious, humane, and useful societies:-- . a branch of the society for promoting christian knowledge. . the new-brunswick auxiliary bible society. . saint john sunday school union society. . saint john religious tract society. . saint george's } . saint patrick's societies. } societies. . saint andrew's } instituted for the purpose of aiding their respective countrymen in distress. . new-brunswick society for the improvement of the breed of horses and other cattle. . female benevolent society, for the relief of indigent females, and a branch of the wesleyan missionary society. a provincial bank is established here with a capital of £ , , and increased by an act of the legislature in to £ , . this bank has been found of considerable advantage in facilitating the trade of the city by discounting bills, &c. but it may more properly be called the st. john, than the province bank, as it only transacts business within the city. a marine insurance company, and a water company have lately been incorporated; the latter is not yet in active operation. here is a chamber of commerce for the regulation of the trade of the city, and a savings' bank for depositing the small savings of the laboring classes. carleton on the opposite side of the river is comprehended in the limits of the city. it is situated on the point, fronting navy island, and comprises the ruins of old fort frederick. it contains a neat church, and meeting house, with several fine buildings. it has a good fishery and is fast improving. saint john being an incorporated city, is governed by a mayor, recorder, six aldermen, with an equal number of assistants, under the style of "the mayor, aldermen, and commonalty of the city of st. john." the other officers are a sheriff and coroner (who likewise act for the county of st. john) a common clerk, a chamberlain, a high constable, six inferior ones, and two marshals. the mayor, recorder, common clerk, sheriff, and coroner, are appointed by the governor, and hold their offices during his pleasure from year to year. the aldermen, assistants, and inferior constables are chosen annually by the freemen of the city. the chamberlain is appointed by the mayor, recorder, aldermen, and assistants, in common council. the mayor appoints the high constable, marshals, cryers, porters, bell-ringers, &c. the mayor or recorder, with three aldermen and three assistants, constitute a common council, with power to make laws, ordinances, &c. which are to remain in force for one year only, unless confirmed by the governor and council. they also constitute a court of record or inferior court of common pleas for the city and county of st. john. the terms of this court are quarterly, and it takes cognizance of all causes from five pounds value to fifty pounds, in which titles of land shall not come in question: and by an act of the provincial legislature, its jurisdiction is enlarged to all transitory actions of any value. it may be observed that the mayor by virtue of his office possesses extensive powers; such as making free citizens, regulating the markets, &c.; and that the aldermen are justices of the peace for the county as well as for the city of st. john. the corporation can hold real property to the amount of £ , per annum, within or without the city. they have at present an annual revenue of about £ , at their sole disposal for the improvement of the city. it must, however, be observed that no great attention has yet been paid to ornamenting the city. this arises in some measure from the peculiar cast of its inhabitants. the men of independent property, and those holding high offices in the different departments being too few to do much, although some of them have fine seats, and many of the merchants engaged in the shipping business, being transient persons, who from time to time come to the province, and whose main object is to make as much as they can, in as short a time as possible, with the intention of soon returning to enjoy their gains in their native country. these persons do not feel that interest in the improvement of the place, that those do whose interests are identified with the country. having, therefore, no local attachment to the soil, it is no wonder that they should extend their views no farther than present convenience. such persons, then, who are to be found in all the ports of the province add nothing to the wealth of the country, but rather act as drains to it. a few seats have, however, lately been begun on the marsh near the city, which will soon make an alteration in the appearance of the suburbs. some small improvement is much wanted at the quays for the convenience of the public and protection of goods from the mud. this could be easily effected by laying sleepers and covering them with strong plank and running a railing along the margin. this would obviate the inconvenience so much felt at present by persons transacting business on the wharves, who have to walk or rather wade, day after day, through the mud. it would also facilitate the transfer of goods, by keeping them in better order, and prevent many accidents which are yearly occurring by sailors and others falling off. fredericton. is situated in the county of york, on the west side of the river saint john on an extensive flat opposite the nashwaack, formerly called saint anns point. the river forms an elbow in front of the town, and the hills encircle the plain, and approach the river about two miles above the town leaving a spot of low land nearly four miles in length and in places over a mile in breadth. the town is laid out in squares of eighteen lots containing one quarter of an acre each. the streets cross at right angles. those that run parallel with the river are more than a mile in length, and are in places considerably well built up; the houses are all of wood and of different heights. the inhabitants are the descendents of the loyalists who came to the province at the close of the american revolution, with a mixture of europeans and americans. fredericton being the seat of government, contains besides a residence for the lieutenant-governor, a provincial hall, where the supreme courts and general assemblies are held. this building contains a spacious room for the supreme courts, with several jury rooms, a council chamber, and an assembly room, with other apartments and conveniences for the legislative body. adjoining this building are the offices of the surveyor general and secretary of the province.--the other public buildings are a handsome square of barracks with a parade in front, where part of a regiment of foot are usually quartered.-barracks and store-houses for a company of royal artillery with other buildings for the use of the troops. a county court-house, which also serves for a market; a small commodious church in a sightly situation, two neat chapels, one belonging to the baptists, and the other to the methodists; a catholic chapel in progress; a gaol, and a building occupied as a college till another one on an enlarged scale can be erected; a poor house in the vicinity of the town, on a liberal scale; and a meeting house belonging to a number of persons composed of congregationalists and other seceders from the kirk of scotland. government house is situated a little above the upper part of the town on a convenient pleasant site, but having been a long time without a settled family it was when sir howard douglas came to the province considerably out of order. it wants a wing to be added to make it uniform with other improvements: for although when the house was built for governor carleton it was on a liberal scale, considering the state of the province at that time, it has been suffered to remain without enlargement, while the country has rapidly advanced.--it is, therefore, at present neither sufficiently spacious or splendid for the governor's residence.--the same observations may apply to the province hall, which although always too low to make a good appearance or allow a good council chamber, was a good building considering the state of the country and want of revenue at the time it was erected; but is now too small and plain, considering the great increase of the population and trade of the province. public buildings speak much, though silently, for the public spirit, taste, and importance of a country. they should, therefore, always be on such an enlightened scale as not to be a prejudice to it. one general observation may be made on all the public edifices in fredericton, which is that being uniformly low they make a flat appearance, which is peculiarly striking to a stranger coming from countries where buildings are more elevated. probably there are few finer situations for a town than the site on which fredericton is built. a beautiful river glides majestically in front of a spacious plain; bounded by hills of gentle acclivity, possessing elegant sites for seats and buildings on commanding situations. on the opposite side of the river the nashwaack rolls its tribute to the saint john and adds much to the beauty of the situation. abundance of excellent water is every where found with a soil peculiarly well adapted for forming gardens, walks, &c. with a pure, healthy atmosphere. from the hills which skirt the town the river can be seen to a great distance winding through the country, till it is lost among the distant islands. fredericton being at the head of the sloop navigation is the main depot for goods from the seaboard. it is about eighty-five miles from the sea and surrounded by a large extent of country which is fast settling. the river saint john is about three quarters of a mile wide in front of the town, and extends upwards of four hundred miles above it.--the surrounding country possesses an excellent soil, and abounds in valuable timber, and as the whole of the trade to and from the upper country must pass fredericton, a great part of it must of course centre there, and consequently, as the country becomes fully settled, fredericton must improve and from its situation remain the great central emporium of the province. fredericton contains a printing office and a public library, with the following public institutions. . a branch of the society for promoting christian knowledge. . the bible association of fredericton and its vicinity. . a branch of the methodist missionary society. . the fredericton emigrant society. this society was formed at fredericton in , for the relief of destitute strangers, being the first institution of that kind formed in the province. it expended large sums in that and the following year, and besides relieving the temporary necessities of great numbers of destitute emigrants, enabled many of them to settle on new land, who are now in comfortable independent circumstances. it is not at present in active operation, but has funds to a considerable amount. . the new-brunswick agricultural and emigrant society. this is a provincial institution having branches in the different counties. the general society being established at fredericton. . a branch of the society for improving the breed of horses and cattle, and a savings' bank. fredericton was formed by governor carleton in , shortly after the division of the province from nova-scotia, and being considered the most eligible and central situation, was made the permanent seat of government. the policy of this measure has been questioned by many who overlook the general good of the country for partial advantages. much jealousy has always existed among the citizens of st. john in particular, in regard to this selection. prejudices in favor of our own land, religion, institutions, &c. must always be expected, and to a certain degree it would show a want of attachment not to feel their influence; but then it must be remembered that when we allow our own interest to blind our reason, we are prone to view what concerns us with a partial eye. it is so with a person who being settled at the seaboard goes but seldom out of sight of the harbor, but from what is passing before his eyes, concludes his town is the only place of consequence in the country; and as nature has made it the great mart for the imports and exports of the interior, it must of course be likewise the only place fit for the seat of government, and every thing else of consequence in the province. but when a person whose mind is above these mercenary considerations, and enlarged to see the general good of the country, casts his eye on the map of the province, he will find that if the situation was as good a few miles farther up, it would still be more central. for fredericton is only eighty-five miles from the sea; at the lower extremity of the county of york, which extends upwards to the canada line about two hundred miles. the large county of northumberland joins york on the north and northeastward, and comprises all the land from westmorland, along the gulf and river of st. lawrence, till it likewise joins canada. these two counties form more than two thirds of the whole province; and will no doubt each require to be divided into two or more counties, when they become more fully settled. consequently the seat of government is at present in the most eligible place for the general convenience of the inhabitants of the province at large, than any other situation that possibly could be selected. diverging as from a common centre, the distance of the routes from fredericton to the most important parts of the province are nearly equal, viz. to st. john is about eighty-five miles, passing four counties in the distance; to st. andrews, the frontier town, about ninety miles; to northumberland about the same distance; to fort cumberland in westmorland, about one hundred and forty miles; and to madawaska, the upper settlement on the great road to canada, about the same distance. in time of war, its situation for a military depot is excellent, as from the direction of the routes just mentioned, the different accessible parts of the province could be easier succoured from here than any other station. and if reinforcements should have to pass through the province to canada during the winter season. fredericton and the great falls would always, from their situation, be the natural depots for troops, stores, &c. neither if magazines were formed at this place could there be more danger of their being surprised and taken, than at any of the sea-ports; for it is nearly one hundred miles from an enemy's frontier, and there must be a great want of vigilance if any body of men, sufficient to make an impression, should be allowed to approach without opposing effectual resistance, or at the worst, taking such measures as should disappoint them. the importance of good accommodations for troops marching to canada, at fredericton, and the upper parts of the river st. john, was well ascertained during the last war, and should not soon be lost sight of. in short, as nature has given st. john and the other sea-ports advantages that cannot be taken from them, so fredericton, from its central situation, possesses advantages peculiar to itself. instead, therefore, of indulging in such partial jealousies, every encouragement should be given to such towns, as they contribute to the improvement of the interior of a country from whence most of the resources that support the sea-ports are drawn. fredericton is slowly increasing in buildings and improvements. it has a considerable share in the lumber trade, for which it is well situated. ship-building has also lately been commenced, and will probably be prosecuted to considerable extent as there are no want of good situations for launching, and abundance of timber. if the main streets in fredericton had been laid out to follow the windings of the river they would have formed an agreeable curve; the squares could then have been kept uniform in width, and the main streets could have continued without a jog, the whole length of the town, which would be a great improvement to the looks of the place. saint andrews. the frontier town of new-brunswick, lies nearly opposite robinstown, in the state of maine. it is a small pleasant sea-port in the county of charlotte: being situated near the river saint croix, on a narrow strip of low land fronting the bay of passamaquoddy, with a range of hills in the rear. it has two principal streets, running parallel with the water, which are intersected by cross streets at right angles. the principal streets are well built up, and the town contains , inhabitants, according to the census taken in .--it is conveniently situated for the fishing trade, as the waters abound with cod, haddock, pollock, and numbers of other fish, and there are numbers of small islands nearly within view of the harbor, very suitable for prosecuting the fishery to advantage. it carries on a considerable trade in exporting squared and sawed lumber, and in ship-building--thirteen vessels were registered in the port of saint andrews in , amounting to three thousand six hundred and thirty-three tons, all of which had been built in the county, besides about five hundred and ninety tons, not included in the above amount.--it contains a neat church belonging to the establishment, and a commodious kirk, built at the sole expense of mr. christopher scott, and presented by him to the members of the kirk of scotland. it has also a grammar school, a court-house and gaol; a printing office, with a number of fine private buildings. here is likewise a chamber of commerce, a savings' bank, a bible society, an agricultural and emigrant society for the county, with other public institutions for promoting the temporal and spiritual welfare of the inhabitants. saint andrews being situated on the frontiers of the province, within view of the american territories, is a place of great importance in the event of a rupture with the united states. considerable works were erected here during the last war, which are now much gone to decay. a few troops are, however, usually stationed here. at the commencement of the last troubles with america, an agreement was wisely entered into between the magistrates of this place, and the american authorities in its immediate vicinity, to abstain from mutual hostilities, which was strictly observed during the war, to the mutual advantage of both parties; who were thereby delivered from the horrors of a predatory, murderous warfare, equally distressing to both nations. saint andrews being the shire town of the important county of charlotte, is silently rising into importance; and will no doubt from its many natural advantages, always maintain its rank among the principal towns of this province. chapter v. _topographical description of the several counties in the province of new-brunswick. their boundaries and extent. parishes. rivers. settlements, produce, &c. great roads, &c._ having, in the preceding pages, given a brief general description of new-brunswick, i shall now proceed to give a short sketch of each county, comprising a view of the face of the country, principal streams, settlements, produce, &c. and as five of them lie along the river st. john, i shall begin at the head of that river, and follow it to its exit into the bay of fundy. the three remaining counties will be noticed afterwards. following this method, (which by keeping the counties and parishes distinct, will give the reader a clearer knowledge of the country than a more elaborate account, where names and situations are mentioned without method, and described promiscuously) i shall confine myself to brevity, at the same time endeavouring to avoid obscurity; and have to lament that the want of correct information prevents me from making this part of the work as complete as i could wish. section i. york. this county commences at the canada line, which bounds it on the north-west. the county of northumberland bounds it on the north-east, on the south-east it adjoins sunbury, and on the south-west charlotte, and contains , inhabitants. beginning at the northern and uppermost part of the county, and proceeding down the main river st. john, the first settlement is madawaska, situated between the grand falls and the madawaska river, which falls into the st. john at the upper part of the settlement. the inhabitants are the descendants of the old acadians, who were settled on different parts of the river st. john, and who on the arrival of the english moved up to this place, where, being joined by others from canada, they formed this settlement distinct from the english, and have ever since been quiet subjects, and well affected to the british government. madawaska is about midway between fredericton and quebec, and is in a flourishing state. it has a romish chapel, where the rites and ceremonies of that religion are duly performed by a missionary from canada, who likewise, with the assistance of one or two leading persons regulates the internal police of the settlement by settling disputes, keeping the peace, &c. and so successful have they been that although there are neither lawyers or magistrates in the place, the courts of justice have had but little trouble from that quarter. the land along the margin of the river is in general good, level, and unbroken; but owing to its northern situation it is unfavourable to indian corn; but wheat, oats, grass, &c. flourish there in great perfection. the inhabitants are all farmers, and generally raise more than they can consume, having a surplus of grain to sell to traders in the settlement or to take to fredericton. their manners and habits being simple, they expend but little on luxuries. their women manufacture a coarse cloth and kerseys sufficient for their own consumption. the men are about the middle size, generally spare built and active; the women, on the contrary, are very stout and short. they are very lively and hospitable, but very slovenly in their houses and cookery. in short, they appear a different race from the english. a stranger going above the falls, finds himself suddenly among a new race of people, different in their language, religion, habitations, and manners. below this settlement the country is a wilderness for some distance, comprising the lands adjoining and below the grand falls. the isthmus formed by the bend of the river at the grand falls, was formerly cleared by the troops stationed at that post. this spot was selected at the first settlement of the province for a military station. it served not only as a security for the settlers at that period, when the country was a total wilderness and almost impassable, being without roads or habitations, but also connected and secured the communication with canada. barracks, &c. were constructed and troops stationed at this place for a number of years. the works are at present in ruins; although it is no doubt one of the first interior positions in the province. this place forms one of the great features of new-brunswick. here the navigation of the great river st. john is totally obstructed, and the upper part of the country disjoined from the seaboard. this points out the great importance of its situation, as the great connecting point and centre for the intercourse and trade of the upper country, whenever it becomes fully settled. its situation will no doubt soon attract a settlement, and in process of time a town will arise, which will be the depot for goods from the seaboard, where they will be exchanged for the produce of the upper part of the country. a canal or tunnel cut through the isthmus, will probably follow. this would be of the utmost advantage to the province, by connecting the navigation and developing the resources of the upper country, which are said to be almost inexhaustible. the distance to cut would be nearly one hundred rods. the isthmus being ninety rods across, from bank to bank, the descent of the water would be nearly half an inch to a foot. descending the st. john seven miles below the falls, it receives the salmon river, a considerable stream from the east, and eleven miles farther the restook falls into it from the westward. this is a fine river, running in a very crooked direction through a fine country abounding in excellent land and well stored with timber of the first quality. it makes to the southwest and has been explored upwards of one hundred miles, where it continues of a good width. it is supposed to be of great length and is claimed by the united states, although some of the british settlers have lately commenced establishing themselves on the river and are making very free with the pine. three miles below the restook, the tobique, named for its red pines, brings its tribute to the st. john. this is another considerable river, being upwards of two hundred miles in length. its banks to a good distance back have been covered with pines of the finest growth, which have been mostly cut off. the soil in the pine districts is not favorable for farming pursuits, but would require much labor to bring it to a state fit for cultivation. there are, however, some good islands in the course of the river, and strips of rich land intermixed with the pine districts, and the lands adjoining the tobique lying along the banks of the saint john are of the finest quality; and where cultivated produce the most abundant crops. a district comprising ten miles extending along the river saint john and embracing both sides of the tobique is reserved for the indians. this tract is certainly not inferior to any land in the province, and it is a pity it should remain in its present unimproved state. the indians have only a small clearing at the mouth of the tobique, where they have a hut which is reserved as a chapel, and where one or two indians generally sit down as they term it, to watch a small crop, and keep possession. after the peace with america in , a number of disbanded, men of the th, th, and th regiments, and of the west-india rangers and new-brunswick fencibles, were settled on this part of the river saint john, chiefly between the military post of presqu-isle and the indian reserve. many of these settlers have made good improvements, and have already secured a comfortable independency. the wilderness has been converted into cultivated fields, covered with habitations; and the district formed into a parish, and named after his royal highness the late duke of kent.--it extends on both sides of the river from the grand falls to the parish of wakefield. the land is of a superior quality, covered with a variety of timber of the tallest growth, and unincumbered with much undergrowth; the trees standing in most places so far apart, that a man on horse-back would be but seldom incommoded by them. this is of great advantage to the settler, as it relieves him from the great labor of clearing away the under brush, which is so troublesome in some parts of the country. nor is this fine tract of land confined to the margin of the river, but extends back, and is found in many places to improve as you advance into the interior. the united states line approaches the river st. john within a few miles along this parish, and they have a township laid out, embracing mars hill before described. it is to be regretted that many of the settlers in this parish having formerly been accustomed to the free use of spirituous liquors, find the temptation revived by the great introduction of them by the lumber speculators, who in many instances are drawing the settlers from their domestic habits, to which they began to be accustomed, to a dissipated mode of living, to the loss of their morals and property. descending the saint john, which every few miles receives the tribute of some considerable creek or river, we arrive at the presqu-isle. this was formerly a military post; barracks, &c. having been erected at this place shortly after the american revolution sufficient to accommodate three companies of foot, which are now in ruins. a few soldiers were stationed here till , since which period the place has been totally abandoned as a military station. the bank at this place is high and the spot where the barracks stood very pleasant, commanding a fine view of the adjacent country, having a beautiful island directly in front. to a contemplative mind this spot must be interesting when he reflects that the soldiers who forced their way from fredericton through the wilderness to construct these works, have fallen by the sword and disease; that the men who projected them, as well as those who superintended their construction, are mouldering in their graves--that the conductors of the boats which transported the supplies are now no more--and that the boats are now in view from the site of the barracks lying in the bushes and falling gradually to pieces.--if he is an old settler, this must have past within his memory, and may teach him the instability of all human affairs. eight miles below the presqu-isle a stream called the pekagomique falls into the saint john on the eastern side. the land on this stream is very good, and a settlement is begun a few miles from its mouth, it has good mills and is well stored with timber. there are several other streams in the parish of wakefield, which extends on both sides of the river, till it joins woodstock on the western and northampton on the eastern side about sixty-three miles above fredericton. it is a flourishing parish, the land being of a good quality, the farms along the river are improving, and back settlements forming. woodstock is generally well settled. the houses are neat, and make a fine appearance as the traveller passes along the river. there are some fine islands in this part of the river, which enrich the settlers by their produce.--there is an episcopal church in this parish, which has been filled ever since its erection by the rev. mr. dibblee, who likewise officiates occasionally in the adjoining parishes. the river madaxnikik passes through this parish to its exit into the saint john, and adds to its importance, as several settlements are making along its banks. this stream has a series of cataracts, and passes by the american settlement of houlton which lies directly in the rear of woodstock, and commences about fifteen miles from the saint john. from this settlement there is a road to the penobscot river. eel river falls into the saint john near the lower part of woodstock. this river heads near the sources of the saint croix; a short portage leads from the waters of one river to the other. opposite woodstock on the eastern side of the river lies the parish of northampton, which extends down to queensbury. this parish is well settled, as is the adjoining parish of queensbury. several streams intersect these parishes, the most considerable of which are the nachiwikik and mactuqaack. the farms along this part of the country, are in many places well improved: but the soil is not equal to the upper part of the river. there are, however, a succession of fine islands, which compensate for the inferiority of the upland. there is an episcopal church at the lower part of queensbury, which is filled occasionally by the rev. mr. somerville, president of the college of new-brunswick, and itinerant missionary for this part of the country. prince william adjoins woodstock on the western side of the river. the upper part of this parish is but little improved, a large district belonging to the chief justice being mostly a wilderness. the soil, likewise, is inferior to the land above. the lower part of the parish is, however highly improved, some parts being interval land of the first quality. there are several fine lakes back of this parish, one of which named lake george, has a fine settlement on its banks. this lake discharges its waters into the st. john, by a stream called the poquihouk, which is an indian name, signifying a dreadful place, and a dreadful place it certainly is. the water just before its exit into the st. john, appears to have been originally pent up by the high bank along the river. through this it has forced a passage, and tumbles down the rocks and precipices with dreadful impetuosity. the passage through which it passes is very narrow and nearly seventy feet perpendicular, composed of large stones, which appear as if they had been laid by masons; the whole forming a sublime and terrific appearance. there is a chapel belonging to the baptists in this parish. several of the officers and men of the king's american dragoons were formerly settled here, very few of whom are at present alive. some of their descendants are occupying their lands and doing well. the parish of kingsclear, which adjoins prince william, has nothing peculiar, the soil being much the same as the latter. the face of the country is hilly, interspersed with several streams well adapted for mill seats. many individuals of the reduced battalion of the new jersey volunteers settled in this parish, some of whom are still living and doing well. a baptist chapel has lately been erected here, in which worship is occasionally performed. opposite this parish on the eastern side of the river is the parish of douglas, so called in honor of the present lieutenant-governor of the province. it adjoins queensbury, and extends down nearly to the nashwaack. the madam keswick, a considerable stream, intersects this parish. this is an extensive settlement, and was formed by the york volunteers and some of the royal guides and pioneers. the settlements on the keswick ridge and mactuquask lie between this stream and the main river, and are in a flourishing state. it has a back settlement on the nashwacksis and another one still farther in the wilderness, called cardigan, formed by a number of welsh families from cardigan in wales, who came to this province in , and were located here by government. being very destitute, they were enabled to commence settling by a subscription of the inhabitants of fredericton, aided by the emigrant society. this parish has a church near the mouth of the madam keswick, and two chapels belonging to the methodists and baptists. the parish of st. mary's, which formerly included the parish just mentioned, extends to the county line, and joins maugerville on the eastern side of the river. the river nashwaack runs through this parish, and falls into the st. john opposite fredericton. this stream was settled by part of the d regiment and some of the disbanded corps that had been raised in america during the war. it is settled for more than thirty miles along its banks, having a mixture of good intervale and high land along its course. about five miles from its confluence with the st. john, it receives the waters of the peniack, a considerable stream with a settlement along its banks, and about twelve miles further up, the river tay falls into it. there are two chapels in this settlement, one belonging to the methodists and the other to the baptists. they have no stated ministers, but are visited occasionally. the road from fredericton to miramichi in the county of northumberland leads through this settlement. the parish of fredericton adjoins kingsclear, and extends to the parish of lincoln in the county of sunbury. it includes the town of fredericton, before described, with a back settlement called new maryland, and another on the rushagoannes. the road from fredericton to st. andrews passes through these settlements, and is fast improving. the lands in the immediate vicinity of the town are not much improved. having been reserved for the college, they remain without tenants; the settlers in this country not liking to lease farms, which are hard to clear up, when they can obtain lots for themselves by paying the grant fees. a great part of the land in the site of the town, likewise belongs to the college or church, or is reserved for government uses, which has been and still remains a great check to the growth and improvement of the town. the county of york is upwards of two hundred miles in length. a great portion of the lands in this county are well adapted to grain, particularly wheat. it is well stored with excellent timber and abounds with navigable rivers and streams. it is settling and improving very fast, and furnishes the major part of the lumber shipped at the port of st. john. fredericton is the principal town, and situated within four miles of the lower extremity of the county.--the inconvenience of the courts, &c. being established at the extremity of such extensive counties are many, and amount almost to a denial of justice to the distant settlers, who have to travel from one to two hundred miles to the county courts. the consequence is that wrongs are frequently unredressed, and crimes, if not of a capital nature, are often unnoticed; which if not remedied will in time have a pernicious effect on the moral character of the inhabitants. section ii. sunbury. joins york on the north west, northumberland on the north east, queen's on the south east, and charlotte on the south west. it stretches along both sides of the river saint john, and contains four parishes, with a population of three thousand two hundred and twenty-seven inhabitants. this is the smallest county in the province, not being over twenty miles in length. it is, however, the oldest settled part of the river st. john. the first establishment of any consequence on the river was made at this place in , by a number of families from massachusetts, who having obtained a grant of a township on the river st. john from the british government, after exploring different parts of the country, settled at maugerville. here they were joined at different periods during the troubles in america, by several more families from new-england. these settlers made improvements on both sides of the river, and called the whole district sunbury. the first commission of the peace for this place was dated th august, , and for holding courts of common pleas . the courts of justice mere held here till , when the american war being ended and the loyalists having settled in different parts of the country, the supreme court was removed to saint john, and afterwards established at fredericton, which was made the permanent seat of government, and has remained so ever since. the parishes of maugerville and sheffield, on the eastern side of the river, are situated on a strip of rich intervale, which being annually overflowed, yield abundant crops and are rich in pastures. the farms are well improved and stocked with abundance of cattle. the houses are in many parts neat and improving in appearance, and the settlers in general substantial landholders and good husbandman. this is a delightful part of the country for wheel carriages, the road being a continued level along the margin of the river, which is occasionally hid from the view of the traveller, by lofty trees and shrubs along the banks, which break off the piercing winds in winter and afford a pleasant shade in summer. the road, is however, unsafe in many places where the freshets have scooped away the banks and indented the road with small gullies, which being neglected by the inhabitants, endanger the overturning of carriages. in the rear of these parishes are a chain of lakes which communicate with each other and discharge their waters into the grand lake, and from thence by the jemseg into the saint john.--most of these lakes are environed with excellent land, and have settlements along their banks. there is a church belonging to the establishment in maugerville with a resident pastor.--there are two meeting-houses in sheffield, one belonging to the seceders, and the other to the methodists. they have both settled ministers and good congregations. the parishes of lincoln and burton are opposite the parishes just described, on the western side of the river--they are situated on high land interspersed with intervale. they are well settled and the farms generally well cultivated. the river oromocto intersects these parishes. this is an extensive stream well settled in many places, having several branches which wind through the country to a great distance. some of these streams are settled, and mills are built at different places.--the main road from fredericton to saint andrews crosses this river a little above the falls, where a blockhouse was constructed during the war for military purposes. there is an extensive tract of wild meadow along the course of this river, which yields a great quantity of coarse grass, and affords an extensive range for cattle, after the water has drained off in the summer. the land on the oromocto and its tributary streams is generally of a good quality, but in common with most all the streams in this province very subject to frost. the mouth of the oromocto being very deep, is a very eligible place for ship-building, which is prosecuted here to considerable extent, timber, &c. being floated down the river in great abundance. there was formerly a good herring fishery at the falls in this river, but a mill having been built near that place it has dwindled to nothing.--there is a church at the mouth of the oromocto on the burton side, in which divine service is occasionally performed by the rector of maugerville.--there is likewise a court-house in burton nearly in ruins where the county courts are held. a stream called swan creek runs through burton, but has nothing peculiar to merit a particular description.--three valuable islands lie in this part of the river saint john called the oromocto, middle, and major's island. ox-island runs parallel with major's island. it is small and forms shoals near it which impede the navigation. there are also shoals at the oromocto, which are nearly impassable for large vessels in the dry part of the season. section iii. queen's. this county joins sunbury on the n.w. charlotte on the s.w. northumberland on the n.e. and king's on the s.e. it lies on both sides of the river saint john, and contains four parishes, with a population of , inhabitants. this is a good county for stock, having a number of fine islands within its limits. the inhabitants are principally agriculturalists who have well improved farms and good stocks of cattle. the land is of an excellent quality and in general well cultivated. the soil along the bank of the river in the parish of waterborough is equalled by none in the province for fertility. as the country descends to the jemseg, the rich sediment deposited by the annual overflowing of the river, produces the most luxuriant vegetation, and although the farmer can seldom commence his labours till june, yet so productive is the soil, that in a few weeks the county exhibits the most exuberant vegetation. indian corn flourishes in this parish in the highest perfection: the soil being a light rich loam and the country level so as to receive the full effect of the sun. small grain, grass, and roots are also produced here in the greatest abundance. indeed a more fertile district can scarcely be conceived than the land from maugerville to the jemseg. the observations that were made about the road through maugerville and sheffield mill likewise apply here, very little attention having of late been paid to them, and it is probable that the statute labor is but seldom fully performed in any of those parishes. there is a convenient chapel belonging to the baptists in waterborough, which has a stated minister and numerous congregation.--after crossing the jemseg, the country rises, and the parish of wickham exhibits some well improved farms in pleasant and sightly situations. the grand lake, the largest body of inland water in the province, lies back of waterborough. it is nearly thirty miles long, and from three to nine wide. a large stream called salmon river, falls into it near the head. this stream is well timbered with pine. a short portage leads from this stream to the waters communicating with the river miramichi. this lake discharges its waters into the saint john, by a narrow gut called jemseg, which is about thirty rods wide and very deep. the country on the western side of this lake is in many places low and marshy, having the french and maquapit lakes in its neighborhood which are settled in places. the country in the vicinity of the grand lake abounds with coal, which is found of a good quality, particularly at a creek called new-castle, where large quantities have been dug. a stratum is generally found near the surface of the earth: the first layer of coal being about eighteen inches in depth, and they are found to improve in quality in proportion to the depth of the veins. the layers are nearly horizontal, and are probably a continuation of the strata found at cape breton, which has been ascertained to proceed in a southwestern direction from that island, to nova-scotia and new-brunswick. the grand lake is well settled, and has a resident minister belonging to the established church. it has likewise a methodist chapel; but no stated minister of that denomination. another large lake called washademoak, lies a little below the jemseg, and is separated from the grand lake by a range of highland. this lake is from twenty-four to thirty miles long, and from two to three miles wide. a stream falls into this lake, called the washademoak river, which rises near the bend of the peticodiac. it has a settlement along its banks, called new-canaan. there is a mixture of intervals and upland along this settlement, well covered with timber of various kinds. the washademoak lake is well settled, and empties into the st. john, opposite long island. the parishes on the western side of the river are gagetown and hampstead. gagetown is regularly laid out, and is the county town. it has a handsome church, with a settled pastor; a court-house and gaol, with several fine private buildings. as was observed before, several fine islands lie in this county, one of them, named long island, is six miles in length and well improved. it has a neat church, in which divine service is occasionally performed. it has likewise a tavern, with as good accommodations and as well kept as any in the country. the streams in this county on the western side of the river, have nothing peculiar to merit a particular description. gagetown creek runs past the township of that name, and facilitates the navigation of that part of the country, and the ocnabog is the tunnel through which the waters of a small lake of that name are discharged into the saint john. i must not forget to notice that in front of gagetown there is a bend in the river, which some ill natured person has saddled with the forbidding name of "no man's friend" although there is nothing unfriendly about the place, and it should rather be called "pleasant reach" as the adjoining country is very pleasant. a new parish has lately been erected in this county, called brunswick, which lies back of waterborough and wickham, and comprehends the settlement of new-canaan and the district adjoining. section iv. king's county. lies likewise on both sides of the river saint john, and is bounded on the north by a line running south west and north east, from the south point of spoon island in the river saint john. on the east by northumberland and westmorland. on the west by charlotte, and on the south by the county of saint john. it contains seven thousand nine hundred and thirty inhabitants. it comprehends the long reach, the kennebeckasis and belisle, and is divided into the following parishes--westfield, greenwich, kingston, springfield, norton, sussex, and hampton. kingston has a township regularly laid out, which bears the name of the parish. it has a neat church, with a resident minister, and a number of neat buildings, which make a fine appearance. the court-house, however, is a considerable distance from the town. the settlers in most parts of this parish have the appearance of comfort and affluence, although the land is inferior in fertility to most of the other parishes. the parish of sussex has a church with a resident minister, and an academy for the instruction of the indians, but little good has accrued to these wanderers from that institution. a beautiful strip of land lies in this parish called the vale of sussex, which is highly cultivated and covered with excellent houses and barns.--agriculture is in general well attended to, and its effects are evident in independent farmers, good stocks of cattle and an air of comfort and cheerfulness, the sure returns of industry and husbandry. the roads and bridges are in good order and well attended to. the great road of communication passes through this vale to westmorland. the river kennebeckasis intersects this county, and falls into the saint john, near the boar's head. this is a considerable stream, and has several islands scattered through its course. it is navigable upwards of twenty miles for vessels of any burthen, and sixty miles farther for small vessels and boats. it is well adapted for ship-building, having abundance of excellent timber in its neighborhood, and several vessels are annually built here for the merchants of saint john. the nerepis another considerable stream, falls into the saint john at the foot of the long reach. this river runs a considerable distance into the country and has a settlement along its banks. there are two quarries of excellent plaster of paris on the river kennebeckasis. there is likewise a salt spring in this part of the country, from which small quantities of salt have been made by the indians and inhabitants settled near the place, which has proved of an excellent quality for the table, and there can be no doubt of its possessing valuable medicinal qualities; but no attention has yet been paid to analyse it. great quantities of sugar are extracted from the sugar maple in this county, upwards of ten thousand pounds have been made in a year, of that valuable article in one parish. several of the parishes in this county have churches, some of which have stated pastors, and others are supplied occasionally. section v. saint john. this county is bounded northerly by a line running east north east, and west south west, from the southernmost point of the kennebeckasis island. westwardly by a north line from point lepreau. eastwardly by hopewell township, and on the southward by the bay of fundy. it has four parishes. the city of saint john, portland, lancaster, and saint martins. it contains a population of twelve thousand nine hundred and seven inhabitants. this county has several fine harbors; the principal of which is the harbor of saint john, at the mouth of the saint john river and which was noticed in the description of the city. this harbor has a valuable fishery for salmon, herring, and shad. formerly from two to three thousand barrels of shad, twenty thousand barrels of herrings, and a vast quantity of salmon were taken here annually; but the fishery has fallen off very much of late years. a cod fishery might also be prosecuted to advantage not far from partridge island, but this is totally neglected. the other harbors are quaco, musquash, and dippoo harbor, down the bay, which have nothing particular. they have water sufficient for vessels of four hundred tons burthen. the lands, in the county and along the sea-board are not so good for farming as those in the interior. they are generally very rocky and uneven. in many places they are mere barrens being covered with a stunted growth of shrubs. there are however good spots intermixed, and many places that formerly appeared doomed to sterility have been brought under a good state of cultivation. great improvements have lately been made in farming in this county. many new settlements have been formed and are rapidly improving. several merchants and persons of property in the city of saint john have lately improved farms in its vicinity; particularly on the marsh and at loch lomond. it will certainly be a great advantage to the province, if men who possess capital, employ a part of it in improving the country. by this means many poor districts of sterile land may be reclaimed, and improved by the wealth of the city; to the great advantage of individuals, and benefit of the settlement where such improvements are made: as the citizen will lay out from year to year, no more than he can spare from his other pursuits, and this when the land is once brought to a good state of cultivation will richly repay him: while the indigent settler will have labour brought home to his own door to enable him to subsist while he improves a small spot for himself, which without such a resource he could not attempt. a great strip of marsh lies contiguous to the city, some of which is dyked and yields excellent grass. the whole district is rapidly improving to the great advantage of the city. several wealthy citizens have lately made great improvements here, and some fine seats are nearly completed. the parish of portland contains old fort howe. this fort is situated on a rugged hill at the mouth of the river saint john, and completely commands the harbour. portland is well built up, but the road near the fort is very narrow, and in a wretched state, considering that it is the only thoroughfare from the city, to the indian house, so called; which is situated in front of the bay, just above the falls, and where vessels and boats come too, going and coming to wait for the tide, and where passengers from all parts of the river land, and frequently walk over the tongue of land to saint john, which is a little more than a mile. passengers likewise going up the river in the steam-boat or sloops, usually ride or walk from saint john to the indian house, and baggage and goods of all descriptions, are transported above the falls by this route, which keeps the road continually thronged, and points out the necessity of having a good and safe communication in such a public place. there is no public place of worship in portland of any denomination: the inhabitants resort to the different places of worship in the city. the settlements of quaco, manawagonish, musquash, &c. are in a flourishing state. considerable progress has been made in agriculture, and there is reason to believe the country round the bay shore is rich in minerals. manganese has been found at quaco, and the adjoining district, which has been sent to the united states, and is said to be of a good quality. section vi. having in the preceding sections briefly described the five counties lying along the river st. john; i shall now proceed with the three remaining, commencing with charlotte. this county is bounded by the bay of fundy on the south, by the st. croix river, and the bay of passamaquoddy on the west and south west, on the east by a north line from point lepreau, and on the north by a west line commencing in the said north line thirty-three miles from point lepreau, and contains nine thousand two hundred and sixty-seven inhabitants. it is divided from the united states by the river st. croix, commonly called the schoodick, which is the line in this quarter that divides the territories of his britannic majesty from the district (state) of maine. it comprehends several large islands in the bay of passamaquoddy, and is divided into the following parishes:--st. andrews, st. stephens, st. davids, st. patricks, st. georges, pennfield, campobello, west isles, and grand manan. the parish of st. andrews, besides the town of that name already described, possesses many advantages for trade, being situated very conveniently for navigation. it has several saw-mills, and a great quantity of boards, planks, &c. are shipped from that port. st. stephens likewise furnishes vast quantities of sawed lumber. the mills in this parish on the river schoodick are very numerous. more than four million feet of boards and planks are cut in this parish annually. ship-building is likewise carried on to considerable extent. large quantities of shingles and small lumber of different descriptions are also furnished here for exportation. there is a methodist chapel with a stated minister in this parish. the country is considerably improved, having several good farms. it has likewise a good herring fishery at the falls of the schoodick. st. davids has likewise some good saw-mills. it also furnishes masts, and squared timber for shipping. the land in this parish is of an excellent quality, and produces wheat, oats, indian corn, potatoes, &c. in great abundance. the parishes of st. patricks, st. george, and pennfield, have each a number of saw-mills, and furnish large quantities of sawed lumber of the best quality--the country being well stocked with excellent pine. considerable quantities of scale fish are also caught and cured here. great improvements are likewise making in agriculture in these parishes, particularly in pennfield, which produces wheat in great perfection. the settlers in this parish are good farmers, and are making great improvements. the parishes of campobello and deer island comprehend the islands so called. campobello includes the islands on the south east side of passamaquoddy river. it contains several thousand acres of land fit for cultivation. many of the inhabitants are employed in the fishery along the shores. great quantities of cod and other fish are taken about the island, and sold uncured to the americans. formerly most of the gypsum exported from this province was landed on this island where it was shipped on board american vessels for philadelphia and new-york. grand-manan is likewise a considerable place for fishing, ship-building, &c. and is of considerable importance in a nautical point of view, as it lies near the entrance of the bay of fundy. it is fourteen miles long and seven miles broad. the northernmost point is in latitude ° ' longitude ° ' west. the rivers maggagaudavick and digdaguash, lie in this county, and are of the utmost advantage in transporting the lumber from the interior. on each of these streams mills are erected. the maggagaudavick runs a great distance into the country, and communicates with a chain of lakes, down which lumber is floated from a great distance. there are several falls in the maggagaudavick--those near the mouth are nearly forty feet. several islands lying in passamaquoddy bay are within the limits of this county. some of them are of considerable importance, on account of the fishery, and as affording harbors for shipping. section vii. westmorland. is bounded eastwardly by the line of nova-scotia, and the gulph of st. lawrence; northerly, by a west line running into the country from the northernmost point of shediac island; westwardly, by a line beginning at a point in the north boundary of st. john county; north, from quaco head, and running north till it meets said west line; southerly, by st. john county and chignecto. it contains nine thousand three hundred and three inhabitants. this county is situated at the head of the bay of fundy, and joins nova-scotia. the line between the provinces is the narrowest part of the isthmus between the bay of fundy and bay verte. a small stream over which there is a bridge--forming the separating line. it contains the following parishes:--westmorland, sackville, hillsborough, hopewell, moncton, dorchester, salisbury, and botsford. a considerable part of this county was formerly settled by the acadians or french neutrals, whose descendants are still numerous in this and the adjoining county of northumberland, being spread along the seaboard, to the bay of chaleur. they have settlements at memramcook, peticodiac, bay verte, cocagne, bucktouche, richibucto, &c.--where there are several large chapels, which are usually supplied with romish missionaries, who are supported by tythes from the french catholics. but the most thriving class of settlers are the english, chiefly from yorkshire, or their descendants. they are in general good farmers and attend chiefly to husbandry. indian corn is but little cultivated in this county, the climate being too cool and temperate for that plant to thrive well; but wheat, oats, potatoes, &c. flourish here in great perfection. this is the finest part of the province for stock; from the extensive tracts of salt marsh which lie in this county, many thousand acres of which are dyked and produce abundant crops. butter and cheese are made and exported from this county in large quantities. the cattle are superior to any in the country from the great attention that has been paid by the inhabitants to crossing and improving the breed. during the american war nine hundred head of cattle, and eight hundred firkins of butter, were sent from this county to halifax, and other places in one year, and although the demand has fallen off since the peace, there are still large droves taken from cumberland to halifax, and st. john--and likewise large quantities of butter and cheese. the tides at the head of the bay rise to a great height. they come in with successive swells of the water called the boar, which at spring tides roll in with amazing velocity in waves about three feet perpendicular. the noise of the boar is heard a great distance, and animals immediately take to the highland, and manifest visible signs of terror if near it. the spring tides at cape chignecto, cape enrage, and cumberland bason, are from forty-five to fifty-five feet. common tides at cape chignecto, thirty-six feet; at cape enrage, forty feet; at fort cumberland, forty-five; and at bay verte, from eight to ten feet perpendicular. the shores from cape chignecto and martin's head to the joggins, or land of grindstones, are high, bold and rocky. on other parts of the coast they are not so elevated, but abound in most places with valuable stones of different kinds, fit for building and other purposes. great quantities of grindstones are made in this county, and furnish a valuable article for exportation. nearly twenty thousand were formerly exported from this place annually, to the united states, and other places, but this branch of trade has fallen off considerably of late years. fort cumberland formerly called beausejour, is situated on the missaguash river in this county. it was the first post fortified by the french in this province, and was for a long while a great annoyance to the english settlers, till it was taken by colonel monckton, in , who placed a british garrison in it. the works are at present much decayed, a few soldiers are however still stationed in it. the several parishes in this county are in a flourishing state. some of them have neat places of worship with stated ministers, and others are visited occasionally. westmorland in general, is well settled, with a substantial yeomanry, and although it does not make such a figure in a bustling trade as some of the other counties, it is silently enriching itself with the slow but sure returns of agriculture, and fast rising into importance. the rivers in this county are the peticodiac, memramcook, and missaguash with several other streams which run a considerable distance into the country. some of them are well settled along their banks. the main road from saint john to cumberland follows the peticodiac nearly throughout its whole course. there are no sea-ports in this county of consequence. dorchester has but little trade, and chediac, is near the lines in northumberland, although the river runs into this county and facilitates the export of its produce. section viii. northumberland. joins westmorland on the southward, and is bounded eastwardly by the gulph of saint lawrence, and bay of chaleur. on the northwestward by the bay of chaleur to the river ristigouche, and westwardly by a continuation of the western boundary line of westmorland. the population of this county amounts to fifteen thousand eight hundred and twenty-nine. this extensive county lies along the gulph of saint lawrence having a great extent of sea-coast. it includes several large bays and rivers, and comprises more than one third of the province. it contains the following parishes:--newcastle, chatham, ludlow, northesk, alnwick, carleton, beresford, glenelg, saumarez, wellington, and nelson. it is a great lumbering county, and furnishes more squared timber annually than the whole province besides: the pine is of the best quality, and found in immense quantities along the numerous streams and rivers with which this part of the country abounds. the lumber shipped from this county generally commands a better price in the british market than from any other part of the province. the principal port for shipping is miramichi, which is crowded with vessels during the summer and autumn. the river has two main branches called the northwest and southwest. vessels load in different parts of the river, and rafts are brought to the shipping with the greatest ease. shipping go up the river as far as fraser's island for cargoes and farther on the northwest, where there are several trading establishments. newcastle is a considerable place for loading, and although it may be considered the county town, has nothing particular. about two miles below this place there is a trading establishment belonging to mr. abrahams, and two miles farther down is the establishment of rankin, & co. indeed wherever there is a convenient cove, vessels lay and load. chatham four miles below newcastle on the opposite side of the river, is also a considerable shipping place. it has a church with several fine stores and buildings. there are but few places along the entrance of this river but what are convenient for shipping. upwards of three hundred sail load annually at miramichi. the timber is paid for part in specie, and part in british and west-india goods and provisions. a stranger would naturally suppose, that such a trade must produce great riches to the country; and that great and rapid improvements would be made. that large towns would be built--that the fair produce of such a trade would be seen in commodious and elegant houses, extensive stores and mercantile conveniences, in public buildings for ornament and utility, good roads and improved seats in the vicinity of the sea-ports, with churches, kirks, chapels, &c.: all these with many other expectations would be but a matter of course. but here he would not only be disappointed, but astonished at the rugged and uncouth appearance of most part of this extensive county. there is not even a place that can claim the name of a town. the wealth that has come into it, has passed as through a thoroughfare to the united states, to pay for labour or cattle. the persons principally engaged in shipping the timber have been strangers who have taken no interest in the welfare of the country; but have merely occupied a spot to make what they could in the shortest possible time. some of these have done well, and others have had to quit the trade: but whether they won or lost the capital of the country has been wasted, and no improvement of any consequence made to compensate for it, or to secure a source of trade to the inhabitants, when the lumber shall fail. instead of seeing towns built, farms improved, and the country cleared and stocked with the reasonable returns of so great a trade; the forests are stripped and nothing left in prospect, but the gloomy apprehension when the timber is gone, of sinking into insignificance and poverty. formerly the woods swarmed with american adventurers who cut as they pleased. these men seeing the advantages that were given them, and wishing to make the most of their time, cut few but prime trees, and manufactured only the best part of what they felled, leaving the tops to rot; by this mode more than a third of the timber was lost. this with their practice of leaving what was not of the best quality after the trees were felled, has destroyed hundreds of thousands of tons of good timber: and when this was stopped by permitting none but british subjects and freeholders to obtain licenses, the business was not much mended as any person wishing to enter into the trade could, by purchasing a small sterile spot for a small trifle (provided he was a british subject) get in the way of monopolizing the woods. these are some of the causes that have and still do operate against the prosperity of the country. men who take no interest in the welfare of the province, continue to sap and prey on its resources. the other sea-ports in this county are saint peters, richibucto, and ristigouche, at which places there is a considerable trade carried on in squared timber, &c. but they have nothing of consequence to merit a particular description. besides the miramichi already described, this county is watered by several considerable rivers, the principal of which is the ristigouche, which falls into the bay of chaleur, and communicates by a short portage with grand river which falls into the saint john fifteen miles above the great falls. the smaller rivers are numerous, some of them have settlements along their banks and others are but little known. the inhabitants are a mixture of europeans and americans. a number of the descendants of the french neutrals are settled in this county, particularly on the river cocagne where there are several villages with catholic chapels; they are also settled at buctouche, richibucto and along the sea-board as far as the bay of chaleur. they are generally agriculturalists and quiet orderly settlers. having thus gone briefly through the different counties, i shall conclude this chapter with a statement of the distances of the principal points on the great road of communication from st. john to quebec: from st. john to fredericton, miles on the western from fredericton to the presque-isle, side of the river. from presque-isle to grand falls, thence to the madawaska falls, to the river des caps near kamouraska, thence to quebec, --- making in the whole a distance of four hundred and sixty-four miles from the sea-board to quebec, according to the present routes; nearly two thirds of which is along the great river st. john. the great road of communication between this province and canada, has been much neglected, particularly about the grand falls where the road has been but lately cut and is but little improved, although this has been the route for the couriers upwards of forty years; but as the attention of government is now turned to that object it is probable there will soon be an alteration for the better. in opening new roads there is not sufficient pains taken to explore the best ground in commencing. frequently after the roads are considerably improved, and much money expended, better routes are discovered and most parts of the old road are abandoned. to remedy this where the road runs along the course of a river it would be advisible to explore the country some distance back, for as the banks of the rivers are in many places very high the streams that run into them indent the country and form hollows and hills near their exit that are nearly impassable; when by going a little back the land falls and their banks have a gradual slope over which a good road may be made with ease. this although not a general rule, will hold good in most parts of the country. chapter vi. _state of learning. trade. revenue. remarks on the lumber business. population. militia._ the state of learning in this province is very flourishing at present compared to what it was a few years ago. when the country was first settled the opportunities of obtaining a liberal education were small and confined to a few. from this cause many persons who occasionally fill important stations in the several counties, are found very deficient in learning, but this from the many provisions lately made will cease in a few years, and men will always be found to fill all public offices, with learning sufficient to enable them to discharge their several duties with credit to themselves and advantage to the public. besides the college of new-brunswick incorporated by charter, there are grammar schools established in several counties which are liberally supported. by the bounty of the legislature, twenty pounds per annum is allowed to be drawn out of the province treasury for every parish where a school-house is provided, and the sum of thirty pounds raised by the inhabitants, to enable them to employ good and sufficient teachers, and this bounty extends to three schools in each parish. by this liberal public provision schooling is brought to the doors of most of the inhabitants, who will exert themselves to partake of the public benefit. the college of new-brunswick is established at fredericton and endowed with a block of land containing nearly six thousand acres adjoining the town plot. the governor and trustees of this college having surrendered their charter to the king, and petitioned to have the establishment put on a more enlarged footing; their petition was graciously received and a new charter granted, bearing date the eighteenth of november, one thousand eight hundred and twenty-three. a grant of a sum of money was at the same time made to the college out of the royal revenues in this province, to enable the corporation to erect a suitable building for the president, professors and students; and to procure a library, and philosophical apparatus for the same. the legislature of the province has likewise granted a liberal sum for the same purpose; in consequence of which a building on a liberal scale is to be immediately erected on a conspicuous part of the rising ground adjoining the town. the most general seminary for the education of the bulk of the population is the madras school. the lieutenant-governor and a number of the first characters in the province, have the management of this seminary, which is incorporated by the name of "the governor and trustees of the madras school in new-brunswick." as most of the parish schools in the province are on the madras system of education, and under the direction of the corporation, i shall close this short sketch of the state of learning in this province with a statement of that institution copied from the last report. state of the madras school in new-brunswick, in july, , viz. saint john, in daily attendance -- total entered carleton, " " fredericton, " " douglas, " " queensborough, " " st. andrews, " " grand manan, } " " grand harbour, } north head, " " westcock, " " sackville, " shediac, " " peticodiac, " " kingston, springfield, " " gage town, " " sussex vale, " " newcastle, " " northesk, " " chatham, " " hampton, " " norton, " maugerville, " " " middle district, " fort cumberland, " " point debute, " " jolicure, " " st. georges, " " woodstock, middle } " " district, } upper district, " " dow's district, " wakefield, middle } " " district, } lower district, " " northampton, " military settlement } no. , } " " no. , " " no. , " " no. , " " scotch settlement, " " ----- in july, , add the number in the college at fredericton, as reported last year ----- total , in july, , ----- increase during the year , the trade of new-brunswick may be comprised under the following heads: exports to the west-indies. boards, shingles, fish, and small articles. the principal return for which is rum, sugar, molasses, &c. exports to great britain. squared timber, masts, spars, oars, lathwood, deals, furs, &c. ship-building forms also a considerable branch of trade at present. some of which are built by contract for merchants in great-britain, and others are built and loaded by merchants in the province, and either employed by them in the exportation of lumber, or sold in britain. the returns for this trade are british merchandise, and specie. there was formerly a considerable trade carried on with the united states in gypsum, grindstones, smoked salmon, &c. and for a short period in the productions of the west-indies from the free port of st. john, (as well as from halifax in nova-scotia.) but the trade in west-india produce is now totally at an end, and the other branches much fallen off, so that most of the flour, corn, and bread stuffs imported from thence is paid for in specie, which is a great drain for the cash of the province: for there are nearly sixty thousand barrels of wheat and rye flour, and from sixty-five to seventy thousand bushels of indian corn, imported annually, besides corn meal, bread, &c. the amount of imports in was five hundred and fourteen thousand five hundred and fifty-seven pounds sterling, and the exports in the same year five hundred and twenty-six thousand nine hundred and twenty-three, exclusive of exports from the port of st. andrews, which amounted to about one hundred thousand pounds, besides several vessels built at st. peters, and other places not in the above statement. the gross amount of the revenue collected at the different ports in the province, in was forty-four thousand six hundred and seventy pounds two shillings and sixpence, new-brunswick currency. this when the population of the country is considered, speaks much for the trade and resources of the province. as squared timber is the great staple of this trade, i shall set down the number of tons exported yearly at three different periods, from which the reader may form a pretty correct idea of the quantity usually shipped in a year. in the quantity was , tons. in " " , " in " " , " the above is the total amount from all the ports in new-brunswick. the following statement will shew the total amount of exports and imports of every description in the year . imports and exports. port of saint john, new-brunswick. _an account of the total number of ships and vessels that have entered inwards at this port and the out-bays within the district thereof, in the year , with their tonnage, number of men, and the quantity of goods imported in the same vessels, together with the value of said goods in sterling money.--exclusive of coasters._ saint john. vessels-- , tons-- , men. wheat and rye flour, bbls. , bread, ditto , corn, bushels , meal, barrels , rice, cwts. , beef and pork, barrels , sheep, number horses, ditto peas and beans, bushels , wine, gallons , brandy and gin, gallons , rum, gallons , molasses, gallons , coffee, cwts. pimento, lbs. , sugar, cwt. , salt, tons , naval stores, barrels , tobacco, cwts. , tea, chests , cordage, coils , coal, chaldrons , oak and locust wood, m. feet onions, seeds, apples, &c. bbls. , staves, m. shingles, m. iron and copper, tons , hides, number , mahogany, logwood, &c. tons bricks, m. stone ware, pieces , cotton wool, bales slates, m. oats, bushels , barley, bushels , wheat, bushels , tallow, hogsheads wood hoops, number , packages of british merchandise, including cotton, silk and woollen goods, sail cloth, ironmongery, &c. , miramichi. vessels-- , tons-- , men. wheat flour, barrels , bread, barrels , corn, bushels , meal, barrels , rice, cwt. beef and pork, barrels , peas and beans, barrels , naval stores, barrels tobacco, cwts. tea, chests cordage, coils , coal, chaldrons , onions, seeds, apples, nuts, &c. barrels wine, gallons , brandy and gin, gallons , rum, gallons , molasses, gallons , coffee, cwts. pimento, lbs. sugar, cwts. , salt, tons iron and copper, tons hides, number mahogany, logwood, &c. tons bricks, m. stone ware, pieces , slates, m. barley, bushels british merchandise, packages , saint peters. vessels-- , tons-- men. wheat flour, barrels bread, ditto rice, cwt. beef and pork, barrels wine, gallons brandy and gin, gallons , rum, gallons , molasses, gallons , sugar, cwts. salt, tons naval stores, barrels tobacco, cwts. tea, chests cordage, coils coal, chaldrons iron and copper, tons british merchandise, packages richibucto. vessels-- , tons-- men. wheat flour, barrels bread, ditto meal, ditto beef and pork, barrels peas and beans, bushels wine, gallons brandy and gin, gallons , rum, gallons , molasses, gallons , coffee, cwts. sugar, cwts. salt, tons naval stores, barrels tobacco, cwts. tea, chests cordage, coils coal, chaldrons iron and copper, tons british merchandise, packages , shediac. vessels-- , tons-- men. wheat flour, barrels bread, barrels beef and pork, barrels brandy and gin, gallons rum, gallons molasses, gallons sugar, cwts. salt, tons naval stores, barrels tobacco, cwt. cordage, coils coal, chaldrons iron and copper, tons british merchandise, packages restigouche. vessels-- , tons-- men. bread, barrels beef and pork, barrels peas and beans, bushels rum, gallons molasses, gallons , sugar, cwts oats, bushels salt, tons naval stores, barrels cordage, coils coal, chaldrons iron and copper, tons stone ware, pieces , british merchandise, packages dorchester. vessels-- tons-- men. total value of goods £ , , sterling cleared outwards. saint john. vessels-- , tons-- , men. timber, tons , pine board and plank, m. feet , staves, m. , shingles, m. masts and spars , oars and oar rafters , handspikes, number hogshead shooks , lathwood, cords , dry fish, quintals , pickled fish, barrels , smoaked herrings, boxes , fish oil, barrels gypsum, tons , grindstones, number , salt meat, barrels potatoes, bushels flour, barrels bread, barrels rice, cwts. rum, gallons , molasses, do. pimento, lbs. , sugar, cwts. naval stores, barrels tobacco, cwts. coal, tons mahogany & camwood, &c. tons apples, onions, &c. barrels smoaked salmon, number , ox horns, hogsheads old copper, tons salt, tons hogsheads of furs corn meal, barrels miramichi. vessels-- , tons-- , men. timber, tons , pine boards and plank, m. feet , staves, m. shingles, m. masts and spars , oars and oar rafters handspikes, number lathwood, cords , dry fish, quintals pickled fish, barrels smoked herrings, boxes flour, barrels bread, do. rum, gallons , naval stores, barrels tobacco, cwts. saint peters. vessels-- , tons-- men. timber, tons , pine boards and plank, m. feet staves, m. masts and spars handspikes, number lathwood, cords dry fish, quintals pickled fish, barrels richibucto. vessels-- , tons-- men. timber, tons , pine boards and plank, m. feet staves, m. masts and spars oars and oar rafters handspikes, number , lathwood, cords shediac. vessels-- , tons-- men. timber, tons , pine boards and planks, m. feet masts and spars oars and oar rafters handspikes, number lathwood, cords - / rum, gallons tobacco, cwts. restigouche. vessels-- , tons-- men. timber, tons , pine boards and plank, m. feet masts and spars handspikes, number lathwood, cords dry fish, quintals , pickled fish, barrels fish oil, barrels dorchester. vessels-- tons-- men. timber, tons , pine boards and plank, m. feet masts and spars oars and oar rafters handspikes, number lathwood, cords - / value of exports £ , , sterling. n.b. to the value of exports may be added the following ships and vessels built and registered at this port within the year , by persons resident in this province, either for proprietors in the united kingdom, or sent there for sale, as remittances for british merchandise, or for owners here, carrying on the timber trade. ships and vessels, measuring , tons, at £ £ , --------- total £ , port of saint andrews. _an account of the total number of vessels, their tonnage, number of men, with the quantity and quality of their cargoes, entered at the port of st. andrews in the year , ending the th january, ._ vessels-- , tons-- , men. rum, gallons , wines from madeira, pipes ditto, hogsheads ditto, quarter casks ditto, half quarter casks molasses, gallons , gin and brandy, gallons , wine from great-britain, galls. , brown sugar, cwt. shrub, casks coffee, barrels and bags tobacco, hogsheads bricks, m. naval stores, barrels canvas, bolts cordage, coils made sails, sets soap and candles, boxes beer and porter, barrels nails and wrought iron, kegs ship chandlery, packages beef and pork, barrels coals, chaldrons paint, kegs tea, chests chain cables glass, boxes, &c. pieces of earthenware & cast iron oak staves, m. - / wheat and rye flour, bbls. , biscuit, barrels rice, casks and bags corn, meal and grain, bushels , peas & beans & rye grain, bus. boards and plank, m. feet - / wood and timber, feet , fruit, barrels , sheep, number of merchandize, packages salt, tons , iron, tons earthenware, crates cotton wool, bales mahogany, logs green hides linseed oil, casks pimento, bags and casks logwood, tons tobacco pipes, boxes copper bolts, cwt. horses, number of piano fortes carriages horned cattle furs, bales and boxes port of saint andrews. exports. vessels-- , tons-- , men. plaster paris vessels-- , tons-- men. birch and pine timber, tons , boards and plank, m. feet , cod fish, quintals , shingles, m. , lathwood, cords spars, number , small poles, number , sawed laths, bundles oars, oar rafters & handspikes , oak, ash and spruce staves, m. ship knees naval stores, barrels cotton wool, bales pickled fish, barrels , smoked herrings, boxes , beef and pork, barrels and kits oil, barrels rum, puncheons sugar, barrels coffee, barrels and bags n.b. vinegar, barrels fruit, onions and potatoes, bbls. n.b. gin, barrels salt, tons iron, tons birch, m. calf skins and sides leather, no. soap and candles, boxes , butter, firkins tobacco, hogsheads smoked tobacco, hogsheads merchandize, packages wines, pipes ditto hogsheads ditto quarter casks ditto half quarter casks wheat and rye flour, bbls. , bread and biscuit, barrels rice, casks and barrels indian corn and meal, bushels , peas and beans, bushels plaster of paris, tons , the articles of exports the production of this province and the fisheries, are considered when shipped, worth the following values, viz.: pine and birch timber, s. sterling per ton. lumber and plank, s. per m. shingles, s. d. per m. lathwood, s. per cord. spars, s. each. small poles, s. d. each. oars and oar rafters, s. per pair. staves, s. per m. dry fish, s. d. per quintal. pickled fish, s. per barrel. smoked herrings, s. per box. oil, s. per barrel. plaster paris, s. per ton. the whole value of the above exports may be about £ , . from the foregoing statement it plainly appears that chief of the export trade of this province consists of timber, which is its natural stock or capital; and as there are many articles taken in exchange from the mother country, which are indispensably necessary to the inhabitants of this province; it points out the necessity of paying strict attention to its preservation. in this country there is no article, or articles, that can in any degree furnish exports equal to the pine, which is manufactured in the simplest manner, and got to market with but little trouble. so simple is the process that most settlers who have the use of the axe can manufacture it; the woods furnishing a sort of simple manufactory for the inhabitants, from which, after attending to their farms, in the summer, they can draw returns during the winter for those supplies which are necessary for the comfort of their families. this being the case, the preservation of our forests becomes of prime importance to the prosperity of the province. the evils that must arise to the province, by allowing the timber to be monopolized and hastily cut off are many. the timber standing in the country, particularly on the crown lands, may be considered as so much capital or stock, to secure a permanent trade, and promote the solid improvement of the country. most of the lands in this province where pine is found are intermixed with other timber, and although the precise spots on which the pine grows, are unfit for agriculture, without much labor; yet there are most always spots adjoining, where a settler may cultivate with success: so that in a lot of two or three hundred acres, there is generally enough for tillage, and a man settling on such land could always choose his spot for farming, and keep his timber to cut at his leisure. his pine so reserved would as long as it lasted serve him as a resource, from whence, after attending to his farming in the summer, he could draw returns during the winter, for such supplies as would be necessary for his family, and for improving his farm. to make this more evident, we will suppose a man settling on a wilderness lot--like most settlers he has but little save his own labour--perhaps he has a small family--he commences with cutting down a small spot, and erecting a hut--say in the summer or fall, he then moves on his family, and looks round for sustenance till he can raise his first crop--in doing this his funds are exhausted, and he wants by his own labour to replenish them during the winter, and provide a few implements of husbandry, and nails, &c. for building a barn--now supposing his lot to be back from the river, and at a distance from old settlements where labour is wanted--what does he do?--why he resorts to his pine--to the simple manufactory before noticed, and makes a few tons, say twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty, according to his ability--carefully cutting the under brush and timber, so as to put his land where he is working in a fair train for clearing--this timber he probably gets hauled to the water on shares, if he is very poor and has no team; the returns for which the next spring, furnishes him with supplies, and enables him to continue on his land and prosecute his farming. if he cannot do without the return of his timber till spring, he applies to a merchant, who if the man is of good fame, advances him such articles as may be particularly necessary for his family. this enables him to find labour on his own lot, and stay with his family: whereas if he has no such resource, he must leave his home, and go to a distance from his family, seeking labour; and probably they may be so circumstanced as not to be left safely alone, and he has to take them with him, which breaks up his family and prevents him from settling. if a number of families commence a settlement together, where the timber has not been destroyed, but where a fair proportion is still growing on the land, they exchange labour with each other, and by their joint exertions, manufacture and transport their own lumber to market. in this way they are enabled from year to year to prosecute their settlement and pay for their grants; the timber answering as a first crop fully grown, and a resource to make returns for necessaries.--by this method, as the pine disappears, houses and barns will rise in its place, and the country, instead of a barren waste, will exhibit flourishing settlements, peopled with a race who will know the value of their improvements; and feel their interest identified with the country: and whose attachment to the government will increase with their growing possessions. their children, raised on the soil, from the strong principles of early association, will feel that interest in the welfare of the country, that no transient advantage can produce; and grow up an ornament and strength to the province. on the contrary, if the lumber is cut off by mere speculators, the land will be left in an impoverished state, much valuable timber will be wantonly destroyed, and the places from whence the timber is taken will be left an uncultivated waste; settlers will neither have the inclination or ability to occupy them. while the major part of the men employed in getting the lumber for the merchants, instead of making a comfortable provision for their families, will wear out the prime of their days without making any permanent establishment; and keep their families shifting about the country like vagrants. their children, for the want of employment, and the direction of their fathers, brought up in idleness--their education and morals neglected, and bad habits acquired, will be the reverse of those before noticed: and many of them will become a vagrant race, unconcerned or uninterested in the welfare of the country, and in many instances a nuisance to it. while their parents, after they get unfit for the business, will be turned off in debt. in short, it will be the most direct way to prevent the settlement of the back lands, and to produce (what is the bane of all countries) a race of inhabitants who have no interest in the soil or welfare of the province. statement of the expenses on one thousand tons of pine timber, manufactured on the wabskahagan, a branch of the river tobique:-- the secretary's, governor's, and surveyor general's fees of office, including the charge for writing petition duty on tons, at s less by amount included in fees, &c. -------- incidental expenses to the applicant surveyor's fees for measuring the timber berth expenses for axemen and chainmen travelling expenses thence and back, five hundred miles --------- ten men at £ per month, and an overseer at £ , say for six months six yoke of oxen, at £ per yoke one pair draught horses one boat, sail, and gear two canoes with paddles sleds, chains, harness, &c. eleven men's provisions for six months, at s. per head, per month hay for oxen, &c. tons, at £ grain for ditto --------- total expense on one thousand tons of timber, at the ---------- brow ready for rafting £ expense of rafting, anchors, cables, ropes, &c. £ deduct for articles that may be useful another season, viz.-- oxen, horses, boat, tackle, &c. canoes, sleds, harness, anchors, &c. &c. --------- ---------- total amount of expenses £ from the foregoing statement (admitting it to be near the truth) it appears that the expenses on one thousand tons of timber got on the river tobique, amounts to £ : : --to which is to be added the expense and risk of taking it down to saint john, a distance of about two hundred and fifty miles--the loss by casualties on a rapid river, where men and teams frequently break through the ice, and are swept away by the velocity of the current. when all the above expenses are deducted from the returns of the timber, it will leave but a little for those who carry on the business, and very often involves them in inextricable difficulties. the preceding statement points out the necessity of adopting a more prudent system in conducting the timber business. not to push the trade to such an extent--to retrench the expenses, by raising the heavy parts of the supplies near the timber districts; and to follow up the timber trade with the improvement of the country and cultivation of the soil. another great drawback to the prosperity of the province is the great consumption of ardent liquors--partly occasioned by the present modes of conducting the timber business. the amount of spirituous liquors imported and consumed in the province in , at the least calculation was £ , , exclusive of the county of charlotte; and add to this amount the cost of the transport of the liquor to the interior and the enormous charges on the article in the distant parts of the province, the cost to the consumer may be fairly reckoned at treble the amount, making in the whole the gross sum of £ , for ardent liquors alone, consumed by the inhabitants of the province, being near twenty gallons on an average for every male over sixteen years of age. the number of inhabitants in this province, according to the census of last year, is seventy-four thousand one hundred and seventy-six--besides the large settlement of madawaska and the parish of west isles; and as it is probable the numbers in the different parishes are taken in some instances under the real amount, the whole population may be fairly rated in round numbers at eighty thousand. the subjoined statement will show the population of the different counties and parishes in : population of the province of new-brunswick, in the year . --------------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+ | whites. | people of colour. | | males. females. | males. | females. | --------------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+ c o | | a | u | a | u | a | u | a | u | i u | | b | n | b | n | b | n | b | n | n p n | | o | d | o | d | o | d | o | d |t a t | | v | e | v | e | v | e | v | e |o e r i | | e | r | e | r | e | r | e | r |t a i e | | | | | | | | | |a c s s | | | | | | | | | |l h h ----+---------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+ |fredericton | | | | | | | | | |saint mary | | | | | | | | | |douglas | | | | | | | | | y |kingsclear | | | | | | | | | o |queensbury | | | | | | | | | r |prince william | | | | | | | | | k |northampton | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | woodstock | | | | | | | ... | ... | |wakefield | | | | | | | ... | ... | |kent | | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ----+---------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+ |city of s j | st. john | | | | | | | | | a o |portland, i h | st district | | | | | | | | | n n |portland, t | d district | | | | | | | | | |lancaster | | | | | | | | | |saint martin | | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ----+---------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+ |kingston | | | | | | | | | k |sussex | | | | | | | | | i |hampton | | | | | | | | | n |norton | | | | | | | | | g |westfield | | | | | | | | | s |springfield | | | | | | | | | |greenwich | | | | | | | | | ----+---------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+ q |gagetown | | | | | | | | | u |waterborough | | | | | | | | | e |wickham | | | | | | ... | ... | | e |hampstead | | | | | | | | | n |brunswick | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | s |brunswick district butternut | ridge | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | ----+---------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+ |st. andrews | | | | | | | | | |st. stephen | | | | | | | ... | | c |st. david | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | h |st. george, a | st district | | | | | | ... | | ... | r |st. george, l | d district | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | o |st. patrick | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | t |st. james | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | t |pennfield | | | | | | ... | ... | ... | e |campo bello | | | | | ... | | ... | ... | |grand manan | | | | | ... | | ... | ... | |west isles | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... | ... ----+---------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+ s u |maugerville | | | | | | | | | n |sheffield | | | | | | | | | b |burton | | | | | | | | | u |lincoln | | | | | | ... | | ... | r y ----+---------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+ w e s |dorchester | | | | | | ... | ... | ... | t |sackville | | | | | | | | | m |westmorland | | | | | | | | | o |hillsborough | | | | | ... | | ... | | r |monckton | | | | | ... | ... | | ... | e |botsford | | | | | ... | ... | ... | | l |salisbury | | | | | ... | ... | ... | | a |hopewell | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | n d ----+---------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+ |newcastle | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | |chatham | | | | | | ... | | | |ludlow, | st district | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | n |ludlow, o | d district | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | r |northesk, t | st district | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | h |northesk, u | d district | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | m |alnwick, b | st district | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | e |alnwick, r | d district | | | | | | ... | ... | ... | l |carleton | | | | | ... | ... | ... | | a |beresford | | | | | | | | | n |glenelg | | | | | | ... | ... | ... | d |saumarez, | st district | | | | | | | | | |saumarez, | d district | | | | | ... | ... | ... | ... | |wellington | | | | | ... | ... | | ... | |nelson | | | | | | ... | | | ----+---------------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+------+ number of inhabitants in the different counties. county of york , county of saint john , county of kings , county of queens , county of charlotte , county of sunbury , county of westmorland , county of northumberland , ------ total in the province , the enrolled militia amount to about twelve thousand. they are divided into twenty-three battalions; the battalions are composed of six, eight, or more companies, according to local circumstances. the companies consist of one captain, two subalterns, three sergeants, and sixty rank and file, except flank companies, which are allowed four sergeants. where districts are in remote situations, and not sufficiently populous to form two companies, but exceed the number of sixty effective men, eighty are allowed to be enrolled in one company. they assemble by companies two days in a year for drill; and by battalions or divisions for muster and inspection, once or oftener, if the commander-in-chief thinks it necessary. an inspecting field officer is appointed to inspect the battalions at their general muster. he visits the different corps successively, and reports to the commander-in-chief. he is paid a certain sum per annum, which is granted yearly by the legislature. the militia law is continually undergoing alterations, and has not yet attained to that perfection, that such an important branch of our provincial constitution requires. the last year two inspecting officers were appointed to inspect the two great divisions of the province. there are abundant materials to form a good effective militia in this province. the youth are in general docile and orderly, and have a great aptitude to attain the requisite discipline; there are also a number of disbanded soldiers and other persons acquainted with discipline, scattered through the country; so that there are few districts, but where there are persons qualified to act as drills. the want of arms is indeed a great check to the military spirit, as nothing is more taking to boys when first put to drill, than to have arms; and although many requisites of discipline, such as marching, wheeling, &c. can be acquired full as well without them; yet nothing makes a young lad so alert as to have a musket put into his hands. to get persons to excel in any thing, it is requisite first of all if possible to create an attachment and liking to it; and to get the youth fully engaged in acquiring martial discipline, it is a primary object to make it pleasing to them. if therefore the different corps were at their musters to be supplied with arms and a few rounds of cartridges, and taught to skirmish, it would act as the greatest stimulous to the youth, and would soon make an alteration for the better at the trainings; by making them a recreation and time of amusement: while it would make the militia familiar with the use of arms--which is at present altogether lost sight of. the writer is well aware that many arms formerly issued to the militia have been destroyed, and that this might again happen; but surely some method might be adopted to prevent such abuses, and still to furnish the different corps with arms while at drill, by forming depots for lodging the arms, and appropriating some of the fines to keep them in order. in scattered districts, one, two or more companies arms might be kept together; and in towns arsenals might be erected where two or three thousand stand might be deposited. such buildings would not only be highly useful, but ornamental to the different places: and as there are but few serviceable arms in the province at present, some steps should be taken to procure a sufficient number, and not to let the country remain in its present naked condition. it certainly appears like an anomaly in our preparations for defence, to expend time and money in improving our militia, and not provide the means of arming and making them efficient if they should be wanted. if (as the preamble to the militia law states) "a well regulated militia is essential to the security of this province," it is equally necessary that the province should possess the means of arming that militia. if arms could not be procured from the crown, it would be advisable to appropriate a part of the provincial revenue for the purchase of a sufficient number to supply the militia in case of emergency; which could be either sold to the militiamen, or placed in the arsenals, and issued occasionally to the different corps as the government should think proper. should the province ever be invaded, its defence will not wholly consist in defending fortified posts or in engagements with large bodies in open field, but by taking advantage of the natural fastnesses of the country, such as woods, deep hollows, hills, rivers, brooks, &c. with which the province abounds. this points out the necessity of having the militia trained to sharpshooting and such exercises as will be beneficial in the hour of danger; and not merely taught a few parade movements, or how to receive a reviewing officer. the indians in new-brunswick are fast declining, and although several attempts have been made to induce them to form permanent settlements and become planters, they still continue their migratory mode of life. the attempts that have been made to civilize them by educating their children have been equally unsuccessful. the romish religion appears to be the most congenial to them, as well as to the french. this arises in a great measure from its outward pomp and external forms imposing on the uncultivated mind. they yield an implicit obedience to the romish missionaries, who instruct them in religion, regulate their marriages, and censure or approve their conduct, and so successful have been their endeavours, that but few depredations are committed by the indians on property, although they are frequently reduced to the most extreme want.--the baron la houtan, who has enumerated forty-nine nations of indians in canada, and acadia, names the following tribes as the original inhabitants of nova-scotia:--the abenakie, micmac, canabus, mahingans, openangans, soccokis, and etechemins, from whom our present indians are descended. as the customs, manners, and dress, of the indians have been often described, i shall not therefore swell this article by repeating old stories. besides the conical cap, the blanket, leggins, and moccasins, worn by all the tribes; the women among the new-brunswick indians frequently wear a round hat, a shawl, and short clothes, resembling the short gown and petticoat worn by the french and dutch women. the indian language is bold and figurative, abounding in hyperbolical expressions, and is said to be susceptible of much elegance. to give the reader some notion of the manner in which these people conduct their conferences with each other, and with europeans, i shall subjoin an extract of a conference, or talk, held at quebec, with the governor general of canada, during the last american war. quebec, th march, . thursday having been appointed for holding the council, the chiefs and warriors assembled, and after shaking hands with his excellency, as before, newash accompanied by his interpreter, again presented himself in the middle of the room, and pronounced the following speech, or talk. speech of newash. "father--listen.--you will hear from me truth. it is the same as what the chiefs and warriors now here have to say. "father--listen.--open your ears to your children, to your red children that are in the west. they are all of one mind: although they are so far off and scattered on different lands, they hear what i am now saying. "father--listen.--you have told us by the talk of your warriors, twice father, that we were to fight on the flanks and in the rear of your warriors, but we have always gone in front father; and that it is in this way we have lost so many of our young warriors, our women and children. "father--listen.--the americans have said they would kill you first father, and then destroy your red children; but when you sent us the hatchet we took hold of it father and made use of it father, as you know. "father--listen.--your red children want back their old boundary lines, that they may have the lands which belong to them, and this father when the war began, you promised to get for them. "father--listen.--your red children have suffered a great deal, they are sad, indeed they are pitiful, they want your assistance father. they want arms for their warriors, and clothes for their women and children. you do not know the number of your red children father. there are many who never yet received any arms or clothing. it is necessary at present, father, to send more than you formerly did. "father--listen.--at the beginning of the war you promised us when the americans would put their hand forward you would draw yours back. now father we request when the americans put their hand out, (as we hear they mean to do) knock it away father, and the second time when they put out their hand, draw your sword.--if not father, the americans will laugh at us, and say our great father, who is beyond the great lake is a coward father. "father--listen.--the americans are taking our lands from us every day, they have no hearts, father, they have no pity for us. they want to drive us beyond the setting sun. but father, we hope, although we are few, and are here as it were upon a little island, our great and mighty father, who lives beyond the great lake, will not forsake us in our distress, but will continue to remember his faithful red children. "this is all i have to say. this is from our chiefs and warriors, this is all they have to say." newash then advanced to his excellency, and presented him with the black wampum and bloody belt. his excellency the governor-in-chief then made the chiefs and warriors the following answer to the talks or speeches that had been addressed to him in their behalf. "my children.--i thank the great spirit for his protection of you on your long journey, and i rejoice to meet you at quebec, the great council fire on this side the great lake. "my children.--you have freely and forcibly spoken your sentiments, and i am happy to have heard from your own mouths, your thoughts, as i know on these occasions you always speak the truth. i am therefore delighted to hear my red children declare their attachment to the king our great father, beyond the great lake, and to myself and my warriors. "my children.--i have opened my ears and listened with attention to what you have said. my heart was sore when i heard of the death of a great warrior. it still bleeds when i think of his loss, and the misfortunes my children have met with during the war, in the death of many a wise chief and brave warrior, and some of your women and children who are gone to see the great spirit, before whom we must all one day appear. "my children.--i thank the great spirit that i see you in my own dwelling, and converse with you face to face. listen to my words--they are the words of truth. you have always heard this from my chiefs, and i now repeat them. we have taken each other by the hand and fought together. our interests are the same--we must still continue to fight together: for the king, our great father, considers you as his children, and will not forget you or your interests at a peace. but to preserve what we hold, and recover from the enemy what belongs to us, we must make great exertions; and i rely on your courage, with the assistance of my chiefs and warriors, to drive the big knives from our land the ensuing summer. "my children.--our great father will give us new warriors from the other side of the great water, who will join with you in attacking the enemy, and will soon open the great road to your country, by which you used to receive your supplies, and which the enemy having stopped, has caused the distress and scarcity of goods you complain of: for i have never been in want of goods for you, but could not send them. "my children.--our success in the war must depend on our bravery and your young men listening to the advice of their chiefs--this you must always bear in mind. i recommend to you to open your ears when my chiefs speak to you, for they only wish for your good. tell your brother warriors whom i may not see, that these are my words; and that though they are to destroy their enemies in battle, they must spare and shew mercy to women and children, and all prisoners. "my children.--i have but one thing more to recommend to you, which you will not forget--you know that the only success that the enemy gained over us, last season, was owing to the want of provisions. there was much waste at amherstberg--the consequence was that you and my warriors were forced to retreat. in future you must be careful of provisions, and use only what may be necessary; they are the same as powder and ball, we cannot destroy our enemies without them. "my children.--you will not forget what i have said to you. this is my parole to the nations. (here the black wampum is presented to newash.) let them know what i have said. tell them they shall not be forgotten by their great father nor by me.--take courage my children--be strong--and may the great spirit preserve you in the day of battle." (here the bloody belt is presented.) after the interpreter had presented the belt to newash, he with several of the chiefs chaunted parts of the war song: "under the cloud island with this belt i go; by this my heart is strong, i shall have courage to die by the foe. "now i take hold of this belt, light as birds fly in the air; strong is my heart, and round i go, seeking to die by the foe." while this song was chaunting, several short speeches were made by the indians. one of them said--"there is our father--here is the belt--there you are--the great spirit presides--now we are one, and none can flinch--if we stand by our father, he will stand by us. our path is in the west--the war shall brighten there--the sky begins to clear--the light falls on our lands, and soon again shall our women and children be on them. you saulks--you chippeways, and all you of different nations, we are all one. we will fight them with our father, and never cease to fight while we have life, or until we have got back our lands." the names of twelve indian chiefs, inhabiting the coast of acadia at the time the french peasants submitted to the british government, will be found in the appendix to this work. lands in new-brunswick are held in fee simple or free socage. the grants are immediately from the crown. the subjoined table will shew the fees on single grants, or where a number of grantees are included in one patent, at present taken at the several offices. table of fees on grants. +---+-------+-------+-----+---------+---------+------+-----+--------+ | |g | | | | | | | | | |o | | | | | | | | | |v | s | | | | | | | | n |e | e | | | | |c | | | u |r | c | | | p | |o | | | m |n | Â� | | a |r u | s |m | | | b |o | y | | t |e r | u |m | | | e |r t | | | t |c c | r |i | | | r | h | a | | o |e h | v |s c | | | |i e o| n | | r |i i a | e |s r | | | o |n f| d | | n |v n s | y |i o | | | f |c w | | a | e |e c e | o |o w | total. | | |l a s| r | u | y |r l | r |n n | | | a |u r u| e | d | - |- u m | - |e | | | c |d r r| g | i | g |g d o | g |r l | | | r |i e v| t | t | e |e i n | e | a | | | e |n n e| r | o | n |n n e | n |o n | | | s |g t y| . | r | . |. g y | . |f d | | +---+-------+-------+-----+---------+---------+------+-----+--------+ | | £ s d | £ s d | s d | £ s d | £ s d | £ s | s d | £ s d | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | +---+-------+-------+-----+---------+---------+------+-----+--------+ on grants where more than one person is concerned, his excellency has seven shillings per hundred acres; and the public offices have half the above-mentioned fees for each additional name, with the exception of the attorney-general, who has nineteen shillings and two-pence for each additional name. the purchase money (which is a sum of five shillings sterling for every fifty acres above two hundred, payable to his majesty, and called the king's purchase money,) is included in the above scale of fees to the receiver-general. according to the royal instructions, a single man is entitled to one hundred acres of land, with an additional quantity provided he can produce sufficient testimonials of his ability to cultivate more. a married man is entitled to two hundred acres, with an additional quantity on proof of his ability to cultivate more: but no more than five hundred acres is allowed to be granted to any person by the colonial government. the method of laying out lots in this province, of a narrow front and extending a great distance back, is very inconvenient to the settler. being confined to a narrow front when he commences, clearing, supposing, (which is often the case,) the land adjoining to be unoccupied, he merely makes a lane through the wilderness, not half of which will produce a crop, on account of its being shaded by the adjoining woods: which not only exclude the sun, but impoverish the land by drawing the nourishment from the plants to the adjoining trees. to obviate this, and many other inconveniences, it would be far better to lay out settlements, where the face of the country would admit of it, in square blocks, or parallelograms; to contain two ranges of lots, with roads at proper distances. the fronts of the lots to be extended, and their length contracted. the lots to abut on the road; and extend back one-half the depth of the block:--the rear of the lots in one range, abutting on the rear of lots in the next range. or else, the settlements might be divided into squares and sections, after the method adopted by the united states in laying out new settlements, of which the following is a short outline: their townships are laid out in blocks of six miles square, the whole area containing , acres. those squares are divided into thirty-six smaller squares or sections of a mile square, containing each acres. the sections are numbered from right to left, and left to right, as in the following plan:-- six miles long. s +----+----+----+----+----+----+ i | | | | | | | x +----+----+----+----+----+----| | | | | | | | m +----+----+----+----+----+----+ i | | | | | | | l +----+----+----+----+----+----+ e | | | | | | | s +----+----+----+----+----+----+ | | | | | | | l +----+----+----+----+----+----+ o | | | | | | | n +----+----+----+----+----+----+ g . the sections are again subdivided into quarters and half quarters. a quarter section is half a mile square, and contains one hundred and sixty acres. the sixteenth section of each township is reserved to maintain schools, and the sections two, five, twenty, twenty-three, thirty, and thirty-three, are sold in half-quarters. by this method the limits of counties and parishes are accurately defined; the settlements are every where interspersed with roads, and each man's field, instead of a narrow strip of irregular figure and uncertain boundary, is a square laying compact and near a road, whose contents are always easily ascertained. the rectangular method of laying out settlements, cannot always be followed, on account of rivers, &c. which will cause gores and inequalities; but whenever it can be adopted it offers many advantages. the estates of persons dying intestate are distributed analogous to the custom of gavelkind in kent. the heir at law of such intestate shall be entitled to and receive a double portion or two shares of the real estate left by such intestate, (saving the widow's right of dower.) the remander to be equally distributed among all the children or their legal representatives, including in the distribution the children of the half blood; and in case there be no children, to the next of kindred in equal degree, and their representatives. provided that children advanced by settlement, or portions, not equal to the other shares, shall have so much of the surplusage, as shall make the estate of all to be equal, except the heir at law, who shall have two shares, or a double portion. advertisement. _having for reasons stated in the commencement of this work, given up my first design of adding a brief connected history of the province, i have inserted a few extracts relating to this country, in an appendix; as they may be satisfactory to the reader, and useful in conveying some knowledge of the early history of the country. my reasons for abridging this description i have also stated, and have omitted many particulars necessary in a full description of a country, such as tables of animals, plants, minerals, weather, &c. as i could not obtain the necessary materials, as but little attention has been paid to these subjects by persons qualified for the task._ _i have endeavoured to be as correct in what i have stated as possible, but no doubt many inaccuracies will be discovered, as the information i have collected from different sources is liable to error. but it must be remembered that in a first work like this many difficulties will occur, and having no tract to guide me, i have frequently wanted the necessary information. the work, however imperfect, must be useful, as giving the first general outline of the province, and interesting to every person who possesses a feeling of interest for his own fireside. in short, persons who strike out a first tract in any thing, may be compared to pioneers who trace a road for others to use and improve._ appendix no. _speech of his excellency the lieutenant-governor at the meeting of the general assembly, at fredericton, february , ._ _mr. president, and gentlemen of his majesty's council, mr. speaker, and gentlemen of the house of assembly,_ i have much satisfaction in meeting the legislature of new-brunswick--i am well persuaded that you will continue to promote and support the interests and institutions of the province in a manner that will not fail to receive from me that ready and cordial concurrence which it will be my greatest pleasure to bestow upon all measures that may be calculated to advance the public good. it affords me great pleasure to have it in my power to congratulate you on the very prosperous state of the provincial finances. the revenue of the last exceeds greatly that of any former year, and yields a large surplus beyond the charges incurred, within the corresponding period. _mr. speaker, and gentlemen of the house of assembly,_ i shall direct the treasurer's accounts to be laid before you, i rely upon your making the usual provisions for the ordinary services of the province; and i am happy to acquaint you that the state of the treasury is such as to enable you to provide for other objects of public interest and utility, to which your bounty has already been extended, and also to promote other important services which i shall hereafter bring before you. _mr. president, and gentlemen of his majesty's council, mr. speaker, and gentlemen of the house of assembly,_ watching assiduously over the public interests, i shall have to submit to you, by message, various measures which it will be necessary to bring under your consideration in the course of the session, but whilst i reserve matters of detail for that mode of communication, important considerations and general views, which require to be fully and forcibly put to the country, and which could not be properly treated in partial or very concise form, render it expedient, on this particular occasion, to lay before you such a statement of public affairs, as may embrace, generally, all interests, and leave nothing in doubt as to our real situation, in the more important branches of our well being. i have great pleasure in stating to you that i find the affairs of the province to be generally in a very prosperous condition. it will be useful however, to observe closely, how far this prosperity depends upon adventitious circumstances and in what degree it rests upon our own inherent means and resources: for it is necessary to contemplate the condition in which the country might be placed, by alterations in such of her transactions as may be deemed precarious, to feel, with due effect, the necessity, which i earnestly represent, of attending zealously to those internal resources which are not of that uncertain description. the trade of the province is, at present, very active; but much of that activity depends obviously, upon external circumstances, on the permanency of which, it were imprudent to continue to stake so exclusively, the well being of the country. it will be prudent, therefore, to endeavour to open channels by which we may make our commerce more general, consequently less precarious, and particularly to establish and improve commercial intercourse with our sister colonies. taking from _them_, what we require, we may make returns by some important operations of our industry, and particularly by the proceeds of an advantageous trade which this transaction would greatly extend; contributing thus to each others wants, in a way mutually beneficial: and, in an union of interests, promoting and consolidating strong and lasting ties. other channels for commercial operations of very advantageous natures invite us to cultivate with increased activity, that rich source of wealth (one of our natural advantages) which our fisheries present! these, if rendered more productive, will afford us great additional facilities in trade with the new states of south america: and there are favourable openings in the liberal policy of the present times, which should encourage us to cultivate, by every means, commercial intercourse with those states. by your wisdom and bounty the fisheries have been improved on remote parts of the coasts of british america; but i recommend you to consider whether the home or coast fisheries might not be brought more under the fostering and stimulating influence of your bounty by some extension of its provisions. the main branch of our manufacturing industry (ship-building) has increased prodigiously, and is now carried on to an extent beyond that of any former period: but it is submitted to your consideration whether it is not accompanied by some disadvantageous circumstances which detract vastly from the great value it might be made to produce, and to leave in the province; and for which i have no doubt, you will adopt prudent remedies that will render this branch of industry more staple, as well as more beneficial. vast sums are sent from this province, in specie, for the purchase of foreign agricultural produce. this enormous burthen operating in fact, as a tax raised by foreign industry on our food, contributes to raise high above the rate in surrounding countries, the wages of labour here, and to lay the province under corresponding difficulty and disability in every branch of its industry. it comes home to us, grievously, in various forms, in every operation of our domestic and political economy; and i appeal to your wisdom, to your patriotism, to the real interests, and to the public spirit of the country for zealous co-operations in the measures and exertions necessary to relieve the province from this most serious difficulty. agricultural, emigrant, and other societies should be encouraged to extend and exert their influence in every way that can tend to promote, improve, circulate and distinguish the modes and means most favourable to augment the production of subsistence. by such means, too, we may reasonably expect soon to possess a population sufficient for the operative parts of all other branches of industry; and when these several operations shall all be executed by british subjects and british colonists, the province will feel and exhibit in her condition the good effects of having closed those drains that have long carried off much capital which otherwise would have been laid out in the merchants' stores, in the cultivation of the soil, and in other productive enterprizes of vast advantage. large sums have been expended on the great roads of this province; but their condition shows the inefficiency of the present system, in appropriation and execution. this arises, chiefly, from having tried too much, and in such attempts dispersing limited means, to superficial and endless labor; on works far too numerous and costly, to be all substantially improved at the same time. such appropriation, therefore, should be made of the sums which may be allotted to the great roads as may ensure effectual exertion upon them in succession, and in the order of their importance; and at the same time preclude those partial and general alterations in the lines of roads, from which vast sums of public money have been uselessly expended. the public service has been exposed to very serious inconvenience by irregularities incident to the present line of communication between the seat of government and the city of saint john. to remedy this, whatever it may be necessary to do in other times and seasons, i earnestly recommend the expediency of completing such a communication with saint john, for a winter travelling and post road, as may not be subject to those serious interruptions and dangers to which the present line must always be exposed, during the greater portion of the year. fully impressed with the importance of attending to the efficiency of the militia, i have derived much satisfaction from what i have witnessed of their appearance and public spirit. the militia law will have to pass under your revision, generally, and i recommend the amendment of those clauses which press so severely upon the militiamen in regard to the distance of travel to their drill, and also with respect to age, at unnecessary cost of time, and inconvenience to the people. i earnestly recommend to your continued patronage the several institutions for the education of our youth; and i may have occasion hereafter to recommend measures for giving security and encouragement to those provident institutions, which i am happy to acquaint you have been established in this province, under very promising circumstances, highly advantageous to the country. i have great satisfaction in acquainting you that our most gracious sovereign has condescended to patronize the college of new-brunswick with his gracious favor, and to bestow a grant from his royal revenues in this province, to place that institution upon a very improved establishment; and i rely upon such gradual provision being made hereafter, in addition to your last vote, as may enable the governor and trustees, to proceed in the erection of a suitable building. his majesty's secretary of state has further dispensed the grace and favour of the crown in a manner that cannot fail to be duly and fully appreciated, and to sustain those principles of attachment, and loyalty which distinguish the origin and course of this colony. in addition to the provision made for the madras schools, generally, and to that of the african school at st. john, i recommend some provision for a similar establishment at the seat of government, to bring more generally within the influence of these excellent institutions, a portion of the human race to whom we owe kindness, charity, and benevolence, and for whom we should provide religious, moral and industrious education. in the very prosperous condition which the affairs of this province may now permanently take, i perceive, that the period is arrived for entertaining enlarged views and scope of system, necessary to supersede some very disadvantageous circumstances which should be gradually corrected, and to raise the province to that consideration, value and importance, which it will soon assume, if the management of its affairs proceed upon sound views and estimates of her true situation, and be conducted according to fixed and solid general principles. but great misery and embarrassment may be inflicted on young and advancing countries, if disturbed by doubts, or exposed to quick transitions arising from different schemes of temporizing policy, and i desire to point out the errors and dangers of all contingent measures and pursuits made only to comply with chance circumstances, temporary interests and adventitious excitements. to that solid course, then, which may best embrace all of those interests of which the public good is made up, and upon which the permanency of your prosperity depends, i shall endeavour to look, and on it encourage the exertions of the whole population to push their special interests with spirit and enterprize, under the sober guidance of general measures calculated to produce a steadiness, healthfulness and solidity of progress, which, under divine blessing, and the powerful and enlightened protection of our parent state, will gradually conduct this happy province to a very high degree of value and prosperity. at a general meeting of the members of the legislature, and other respectable gentlemen from all parts of the province, assembled in one of the committee rooms of the house of assembly on thursday the th of february, , by request of the lieutenant-governor, to take into consideration some propositions to be submitted by his excellency, relating to the improvement of agriculture, &c. in this province, when his excellency was pleased to open the proceedings of the meeting with the following speech:-- the purpose for which i have caused this meeting to be convened, is of the first importance to the country: and i am delighted to find myself surrounded on this occasion, as i hope to be on every occasion, by those distinguished persons, from whose station, stake and consideration in the country, i may expect the most powerful aid in promoting the great objects i have in view, if we are all fully impressed with the expediency and necessity we are under, each in our several stations, of doing all that may depend upon us, to accomplish the purposes which i am now to bring more particularly under your consideration. the purpose for which we are met is, to enquire whether some encouragement and excitement may not be applied to agricultural pursuits, to operate, discreetly and gradually, in a manner to relieve the country from the great difficulty and disability under which it is laid by the vast sums which we pay for our food, and from the very disadvantageous effects which this produces on the cost of labour, and consequently in all branches of our industry. under ordinary circumstances, the high price occasioned by deficiency in the supply of any article in general demand, operating as a premium upon increased production, has a direct and natural tendency to remedy its own evils. this, in fact, is an effect which _is_ working here, though slowly, to cure the malady of which we complain; and if other branches of industry were not in an excited, forced, and somewhat unnatural condition, it would be unnecessary, superfluous, or perhaps disadvantageous, to interfere with the sources and currents of supply, which ultimately accommodate themselves in the most advantageous and fittest way, to meet demand. but these are peculiarities in the circumstances of this country, which must appear very obvious to all persons who have correct notions of the extent of her business and dealings, compared with the limited population and capital we possess, which occasioning powerful competitions in other branches, would appear to demand some additional encouragement and adventitious aid, to draw labour and capital in greater quantities, to the cultivation of the soil. to consider, properly, the best modes and means by which we may augment the production of subsistence, it will be proper to resolve the question into the consideration of the elements of production, viz. labour, capital and land, and to enquire in what way we can give to those constituent parts of production, the facilities and encouragement they require, to compete with other branches which are obviously under the influence of adventitious excitement. with respect to land, we possess it in abundance, and in quality ready to yield what we may in a judicious manner require of it; and it will be one of my main objects to endeavour to lay open to agricultural pursuits, extensive tracts which have long been locked up in reserved superabundance. this measure has in one case been, heretofore, sought and petitioned for; but it was not accorded to, at that time, in consequence of doubts entertained by his majesty's government, as to the value of the standing produce of that land, for other purposes. but it is an advantage arising from a late appointment to a high situation in the province, that powers are given, subject to certain conditions and regulations which i may sanction, to throw open portions of those reserves to meet the improving circumstances of the country, and this will be speedily observed in a way that will open considerable tracts of valuable land to the operations of agriculture. proceeding, next, to the consideration of capital, it has appeared to me to be very desirable, that some new measures should be taken with a view to attract the enterprizes of capitalists, not only to the cultivation of fresh tracts, but likewise to that of the waste lands of the province generally; and i entertain the intention of bringing this proposition under the consideration of the high authorities, elsewhere, upon whom this will depend. but the creation and accumulation of small capitals, sufficient to enable the working man to enter with advantage on the cultivation of a grant of land, of the usual extent, is a matter in degree and practicability, much within the influence of our own measures, and it becomes therefore subject of very fit consideration for this meeting, composed of so many distinguished persons, who, returning soon to their respective countries, may give information respecting those institutions which are constituted, and likely i trust to be protected, to provide for the safe custody and accumulation of the small savings of the industrious classes of society. the greater part of such accumulations may be considered as funds rescued from unproductive consumption, to be laid out productively in various important branches of industry; and whilst, therefore, in this view, the provident institutions deserve encouragement from all classes, they more particularly suggest to the gentlemen acting in the different emigrant and agricultural societies, and to the employers of agricultural labours generally, the co-operation which may be expected from _savings' banks_ in encouraging, by enabling, all industrious persons, soon to enter with advantage on the cultivation of the soil, as proprietors of land. the poor emigrant, for instance, who comes to the country destitute of pecuniary means, and who should always be met and welcomed with a great deal of charitable attention and protection, should be told, that to enter on the laborious enterprize of clearing a lot, in the wilderness, without capital, would be to entangle himself in very considerable difficulty. the best course which such a person can pursue, would be to avail himself of the assistance, which it should be a main object of all emigrant societies to provide, to procure advantageous employment in which to acquire experience of the climate, habit of labour, and best modes of culture; and whilst acquiring these, to accumulate his savings in the savings' banks, in the manner that any person, who is not burthened with a large family, may soon do, in farm service in summer, and in other pursuits in winter. this object will perhaps be best pursued by the emigrant societies in the different parts, taking active measures to become acquainted with the circumstances and description of emigrants so soon as they arrive, and entering in a book, their names, age, trade or occupation, objects, and the means they may possess of pursuing these. from those entries of the circumstances and condition of the individuals, emigrant societies would be competent to give them counsel and protection. if the emigrant's desire should be to agricultural pursuits, which will commonly be the case, but that he has no capital to commence with, he should be advised to put himself to farm service, and his attention should be drawn to the facilities which savings' banks provide for receiving, securing and augmenting his savings. if this measure meet concurrence in its objects and practicability, it will be received as an appeal to the agriculturists of the country to keep correspondence with the nearest emigrant societies, for the purpose of procuring labourers of their recommendation. but although it may not be expedient for a person without capital, to enter at once on the cultivation of his tract, yet it appears to me that some inducement should be applied to excite his industry by a prospect of an advantageous location, so soon as he finds himself capable of undertaking it; and in this view i see no difficulty in the arrangement, and on the other hand, great public advantage, in securing for persons thus working for their capital, locations upon the lots they may prefer, subject to a condition that, within one year, the emigrant society in whose books they may be registered, report favorably of their proceedings, in a manner to give fair expectation that at the end of a further short period, they would be able to enter upon their location, and pay a proportion of their fees, in aid of which the society should provide some donation or loan. but when the emigrant has pecuniary means, or is resolved to enter at once on his land, the emigrant societies will be enabled to let him chuse his situation, in the plans of unoccupied lots reserved for emigrants, which plans will for this purpose be transmitted to the emigrant societies, and to whose recommendation a quick return of location tickets will be made; and i am happy to say that this measure will be observed and promoted with much ability and zeal by the distinguished persons on whom it will severally depend. when we reflect that one of the greatest difficulties under which we labour in accomplishing the great purpose of independence with respect to our food, arises from the want a working population sufficient for the all operative parts of our industry, and consequently the very high rate of wages and food, which lays the agriculturist under disadvantages of the most serious description, in a climate where the productive powers of the earth are so long dormant, we must all concur in the necessity of aiding societies by whose means so many able hands can be procured, and for want of properly supporting which, so many have passed to a foreign land. an increased competition or supply of labour then will be much influenced by arrangements such as i have indicated; whilst in its modes, intelligence and material means, it may be greatly promoted by _agricultural societies_. these, under the designation of agricultural and emigrant societies, i should wish to see formed in every county in the province, and sub-societies organized under them to carry their benefits to all parts of the country. i trust, indeed, that ere you depart, the foundation, or rather the re-organization of such a system will be completed, and i call upon the gentlemen of distinction from the different counties who are now present to concur in this measure, and when they return to their respective counties, to engage to organize such societies to be composed of persons who would be most likely to co-operate in this great purpose. i feel confident, that whenever societies shall be so organized in any county, they will meet the provision which i trust will be made by the liberality of the country for their support and efficiency: and i perceive with much satisfaction that the public spirit of the country is in many parts exhibiting itself in the form, and for the purpose which we contemplate for general adoption. for the purpose of improving, circulating and distinguishing the modes and means most favorable to increased production, and of drawing to a focus that information which it may be desirable to possess here in the seat of government for myself and for you it will be proper that some provision should be devised for the laborious part of that purpose which will depend upon a secretary who should be appointed to manage the correspondence of the central committee to report proceedings to the general meeting. the general meeting should be composed of all members of the legislature; of all presidents and vice-presidents of county societies, and of all members subscribers in the regulated amount. the central committee should be named in the general meeting to carry on the correspondence during the recess, and to arrange the general accounts; but the appropriation of public funds should be made direct to the county societies and subject only to the audit of the central committee. these reports will thus exhibit a general statement of the sums expended and whether commensurate progress has been made in the improvement of agricultural implements, machinery, modes of culture, augmentation of production, and breed of cattle, all of which should be under the influence of these meetings. with views such as these, so soon as i discovered, in studying your affairs, the disabilities and difficulties which the province might have to contend with from deficiency in the supply of food, and aware that it would require pecuniary means, on my part, to put into activity the plans which i then formed, and now lay before you, i submitted to his majesty's secretary of state the importance of sanctioning a small grant from the funds at the disposal of the crown, to meet the liberality and public spirit with which i am persuaded, elsewhere and every where, the great object now under our consideration will be supported. i have great satisfaction in showing how readily this has been dispensed: i will read the terms of it, and hasten to say that the use i shall make of it, will be, to place a sum, which i hope will be annual, at the disposal of those county societies that are or may be organized to meet the views which i here lay before you. in communicating this grant from his majesty's revenue to the agricultural societies, it is however my duty to state, that the continuation of this grant for future years, will depend upon the report which i may have in my power to make of the advantages which it may have produced; and these will mainly depend upon the liberality and zeal with which this provision is seconded in the country generally. the society having been formed and organized, the president communicated to the meeting that he had received a message from his excellency the lieutenant-governor, that it was his intention to attend the meeting in person, to communicate his sentiments on their proceedings, and his acceptance of the office of patron. whereupon his excellency entered and having taken the chair, addressed the society as follow:-- _mr. president, vice-presidents, and gentlemen of the agricultural and emigrant society,_ i evince the satisfaction and cordiality with which i receive your address by placing myself in this chair, as your patron, on the very instant the distinguished seat is offered to me; and the first sentence i shall deliver from it is, to assure you that my most zealous exertions shall be used to promote the great objects we have in view, in every way that may depend upon me. i am gratified for the present, sanguine and confident for the future, when i look around me and perceive the distinguished persons of whom this society is composed, and the interest which it has excited; and it is particularly pleasing to me to find myself supported by the distinguished person whom you have placed in the president's chair. i congratulate you, gentlemen, upon such an election, and myself on having such coadjutures. the agricultural and emigrant societies being now about to go into immediate, and, as i hope successful operation, it may not be useless to express to you, and through you to convey to the public, some appeals to those exertions which will be required to realize the benefits which we here contemplate, and for attaining which, the course is now so clear. this fine, and as i have hitherto found it, happy province, is advancing rapidly, with growth almost exuberant, to a station, the real intrinsic character and condition of which, in other times, will depend mainly upon the manner in which we who are now directing its affairs, in certainly a critical period of its advancement, when it is daily developing its resources, and forming its system, may discharge our several duties, by doing all that may depend upon us to train, sustain and correct the principles, habits and pursuits, and to regulate the exertions, by which, unquestionably, it may be conducted to a state of great prosperity. to consider these duties with reference to all the obligations we owe to the country, in the several branches which contribute to its most political and statistical progress, would lead us away far beyond the sphere of our present purpose; i shall, therefore, only consider the duties we have to fulfil in regard to the institutions now completely organized. the several purposes contemplated by those institutions call upon us to promote habits of frugality, domestic economy, and useful industry, as training a rural population to settle and labour on the soil, and to assist them so to exert themselves in the modes and means of culture as to improve our agricultural condition; to make us more independent at least for our food; and subsequently to set free other branches of industry, which are now under great disability. the foundation of systems which may produce such benefits has now been laid. i have had much satisfaction in recommending and promoting them. my views have been cordially and ably seconded every where; the measures they called for have now been adopted; and they have been liberally endowed by the legislature with pecuniary means to animate and quicken the system. the savings' bank bill; the organization and endowment of the body i now address, open, to the industrious classes of society, and to the interests of the country generally, a distinct view of the progress that may be made from foundations laid, first, in habits of frugality and domestic economy, onwards, through moral and provident conduct, to security and accommodation, productive application, improvement in agriculture, increase of population, competition in labour, encouragement and development of industry, and augmented production. the acts and the system of this session have laid the foundation of much improvement to the country, on solid grounds; and seeds which _should_ blossom hereafter, are planted in the fertile soil; but whether the superstructure is to be raised, or them seeds are to spring, depends not on those who have laboured on the foundation, or who have provided the means that may quicken the process. whether the savings' bank bill, or this most admirable institution are to be effectual in doing good, depends upon the degree of public spirit with which our exertions here, may be supported and extended in the country generally. all public institutions live only by public spirit, in any country; but this is particularly the case in young countries where man owes to fellow man a greater contribution of his concern and of his aid. look at the progress of an individual case. when a settler goes, singly, to encounter the difficulties and the labour of a solitary location in an unsettled district, and with the sweat of his own brow to shelter his family, and to clear space to receive the seeds which are to yield his immediate subsistence, we all know what fortitude, power and time are required to accomplish such beginnings. but should he undertake his enterprize on a site near to where former settlers have experienced such difficulties, the recent sense brings to his aid the little community, to labour for him; and by the exertions of that _public_ he is speedily established in a way, that he might never have accomplished by his own solitary powers. _this is public spirit._ so may it be with the edifices we are now raising! they are, in some respects, partially, and in others wholly, _new settlers_, in this country; and they are well deserving of public exertion to complete the useful fabric. we are here entirely dependent upon public spirit.--what can these systems do without it? they would languish from this day, and might expire even in their cradle. this i do trust will never happen. i know not how long i may be the witness of their progress; but sure i am that the intensity of interest which i feel in this province, and which i have imbibed paternally, for the success of these institutions which i have been instrumental in bringing forward, will always be felt with such solicitude as shall give me pleasure in their success; but which from that very interest, will suggest reproach, if (which cannot be) they should fail from want of public exertion. but remember that time, labour in arrangement and management, must be contributed gratuitously, for the chief offices of these institutions. i am confident that those sacrifices will be cheerfully tendered by the public spirit of the country in a way that shall produce advantage to it, and reflect everlasting credit, honor and substantial enjoyment upon the patriotic persons who may offer their aid.--it cannot fail to do so; for the man who feels the real impulses of public spirit is usually the happiest, because he is the best of beings. public spirit contains in it every laudable passion, and every fine affection.--it comprehends our duties towards our parents, to our kindred, to our friends, to our neighbours, to our fellow man in every degree, and to every thing dear to mankind in the public institutions formed of them. public spirit is the highest of virtues, and affords the highest degree of satisfaction. steadfast in good purpose; fidelity in trust; impartial to all; a passion to promote universal good, with personal labour, pains, and the sacrifice of every selfish feeling; to endeavour to maintain society in peace, tranquillity, plenty and security. it is, in short, as i feel it, one man's care for the many: and, as you i am persuaded feel it, the concern of every man for the good of all. this sentiment binds us together in the pursuit of public advantage to a co-operation from which i am convinced none will shrink in any difficulty which these institutions may have to encounter; and onward let us go with a determination that when we meet again in this place, we may receive, and record, reports which shall prove that our schemes have prospered. i have now the pleasure to announce that from the funds which his majesty's secretary of state has put at my disposal from the king's casual revenue, i shall appropriate £ to each of the county societies for the present year subject to the regulations and conditions already established; and i will not fail to intercede for a continuance of this royal bounty, if i can report success in our labours. appendix no. ii. _extracts relating to the early transactions in nova-scotia and new-brunswick, copied verbatim from papers compiled by a gentlemen who intended to publish an account of new-brunswick; but was from unexpected circumstances obliged to relinquish the design._ province of the massachusetts bay. notice is hereby given, that it hath been determined that a squadron of his majesty's ships and divers regiments of foot should winter in nova-scotia, which will require large supplies of fresh provisions to be sent thither from time to time, not only for the support of the sick in the hospitals, but for the refreshment of those that are well,--and that his excellency governor lawrence hath given assurance, that the coasters and others trading in refreshments of that sort, shall not only be protected by the admiral from pressing, but shall receive, both from his excellency and the admiral, all manner of countenance and regard. a. oliver, sec. province of the massachusetts bay. boston, october , . the following proclamation being published in nova-scotia and transmitted to this government, was read in council, and ordered to be published in this province. thos. clark, d. sec. by his excellency charles lawrence, captain-general and commander-in-chief in and over his majesty's province of nova-scotia, or acadia, in america, vice-admiral of the same, &c., &c., &c. a proclamation. whereas by the late success of his majesty's arms in the reduction of cape breton and its dependencies, and also by the demolition and entire destruction of gaspe, miramichi, and of saint lawrence, and on saint john's river in the bay of fundy, the enemy, who have formerly disturbed and harassed the province of nova-scotia, and much obstructed its progress, have been compelled to retire and take refuge in canada; a favorable opportunity now presents itself for the peopling and cultivating, as well the lands vacated by the french, as every other part of that valuable province: i have therefore thought fit, with the advice of his majesty's council, to issue this proclamation, declaring that i shall be ready to receive any proposals that may hereafter be made to me, for effectually settling the said vacated, or any other lands within the province aforesaid: a description whereof, and of the advantages arising from their peculiar nature and situation, i have ordered to be published with this proclamation. given in the council chamber at halifax, this th day of october, , and in the thirty-second year of his majesty's reign. by his excellency's command, } with the advice of his majesty's } charles lawrence. council } god save the king! a description of the lands ordered to be published pursuant to the foregoing proclamation, which consist of more than one hundred thousand acres of land, interval and plow lands, producing wheat, rye, barley, oats, hemp, flax, &c. these have been cultivated for more than a hundred years past, and never fail of crops, nor need manuring. also, more than one hundred thousand acres of upland, cleared and stocked with english grass, planted with orchards, gardens, &c. these lands, with good husbandry, produce often two loads of hay per acre. the wild and unimproved lands adjoining abound with black birch, ash, oak, pine, fir, &c. all these lands are so intermixed that every single farmer may have a proportionable quantity of plow land, grass land, and wood land, and are all situated about the bay of fundy, upon rivers navigable for ships of burden. proposals will be received by mr. hancock of boston, and by messrs. delancie & watts of new-york, to be transmitted to the governor, or president of the council at halifax. (copy.) his majesty's confirmation of the plan for settling the province of nova-scotia. at the court of st. james's, the th day of february, , (seal) (present) the king's most excellent majesty, lord keeper, earl gower, lord president, viscount barrington, lord steward, lord deleware, earl of hyndford, mr. vice chamberlain. whereas there was this day read to the board, a representation from the lords commissioners of trade and plantations, dated the th of december last, containing an account of the proceedings of the governor in council of nova-scotia, with regard to the settling of the lands evacuated by the removal of the french inhabitants from that province, as well as other tracts of land in the wild and uncleared part of that country, and also with regard to the terms and conditions upon which the said governor and council have agreed to make grants of the said lands: and the said lords commissioners being of opinion, that the plan so laid down by the said governor and council, will be a means of the speedy settling the vacant lands in that province, and therefore proper to receive his majesty's approbation: his majesty has this day took the said representation into consideration, and is hereby pleased, with the advice of his privy council, to declare his royal approbation of the said plan of the said governor and council, for the speedy settling the vacant lands in that province: and also of the terms and conditions agreed upon for that purpose, and doth therefore order that the governor or commander-in-chief of his province of nova-scotia for the time being, do carry the same into execution. (signed) w. sharpe. _extract of a letter from his excellency governor lawrence, to the agent for the province of nova-scotia, at boston, dated th june, ._ "i am ready to receive farther proposals, in consequence of his majesty's approbation of our measures, from any person or persons who will offer themselves to become settlers in this province; and that all due encouragement shall be given them to the utmost limits of the authority with which his majesty has been pleased to invest the governor and council of this province.--nota bene. proposals left with mr. hancock, will be transmitted to the governor at halifax. "captain bragdon informs us, that captain fisher in a sloop from annapolis royal, bound to fort cumberland, was cast away in the bay of fundy, on board of which was lieutenant tonge, an engineer, with a considerable sum of money, which was lost, together with the lives of two or three persons on board. friday last arrived here the province ship king george, captain hallowell, from louisburg and a cruize. from louisburg, we learn that the armed vessels lately sent out thence, had been at pictou, and burnt five or six vessels which the enemy took from us last year, and brought off some plunder; and that the indians from saint john, who brought the account of the five french men of war being in the bay of chaleur, also informed that they had landed four hundred men, in order to attack fort cumberland. "arrived here, colonel arthithnot, who commanded at fort frederick, in saint john's river, the year past; also several other officers and a number of soldiers belonging to this province, who have garrisoned his majesty's forts up the bay of fundy, and now discharged, arrived here, being relieved by a number of soldiers lately enlisted in this province, for that service. we hear that the indians behave well, and still continue to come into the forts at nova-scotia, and carry on trade very peaceably." _extract of a letter from colonel fry, to his excellency the governor, dated fort cumberland, chignecto, march , ._ sir.--i informed your excellency in my last of th december, of the submission of the french peasants residing at miramichi, richibucto, bucktouche, peticodiac, and memramcook, made by their deputies sent here for that purpose. on the th of january last, mr. manack, a french priest, who has had the charge of the people at miramichi, richibucto, and bucktouche, and a number of the principal men of those places, arrived here, when they received their submission in a formal manner, by subscribing to articles, (drawn suitable to the case,) whereby among other things, they have obliged themselves and people they represent, to come to bay verte with all their effects and shipping as early in the spring as possible, in order to be disposed of as governor lawrence shall direct. with the french priest, came two indian chiefs, paul lawrence and augustin michael; lawrence tells me he was a prisoner in boston, and lived with mr. henshaw, a blacksmith; he is chief of a tribe at richibucto. i have received their submissions, for themselves and for their tribes, to his britannic majesty, and sent them to halifax for the terms by governor lawrence. i have likewise received the submission of two other chiefs, who i dealt with as before mentioned, and was in hopes i had no more treaties to make with savages; but he told me i was mistaken for there would be a great many more upon the same business, as soon as their spring hunting was over: and upon my enquiring how many, he gave a list of fourteen chiefs, including those already mentioned, (copy of which i have inclosed) most of which he said would come. i was surprised to hear of such a number of indian chiefs in this part of america, and mr. manack further told me that they were all of one nation, and known by the name of mickmacks; that they were very numerous, amounting to near three thousand souls; that he had learned their language since he had been among them, and found so much excellence in it, that he was well persuaded if the beauties of it were known in europe, there would be seminaries erected for the propagation of it. how that might be, is better known to him than to those who know nothing of the language; but i think i may venture to say, that if there be so many of these indians, as he says there are, i know this province, as it abounds very plentifully with furs, may reap a vast advantage by them, provided canada returns not into the hands of the french. about the time that mr. manack arrived here, there came in eight men, one of whom was a new-england man, one irishman, and the rest italians and spaniards; who informed me they deserted from a french frigate that lay froze in at the head of gaspe harbour. the two former belonged to a vessel commanded by captain malcom, of boston, who was taken by the above frigate, as she was returning from quebec, where she had been on a trading voyage. names of the indian chiefs inhabiting the coast of acadia: louis frances, chief of miramichi, denis winemowet, do. tabogimkik, etienne abchabo, do. pohomoosh, claud atanaze, do. gediack, paul lawrence, do. la have, joseph algimoure, do. chignectou, john newit, do. pictou, baptist la morue, do. isle of st. john's, reni, do. nalkitgoniash, jeannot piguidawelwet, do. keshpugowitk, batelemy aungualett, do. minas, augustin michael, do. richibucto. a narrative. _of the proceedings of the first settlers at the river st. john, under the authority of the government of nova-scotia._ in the year , a number of persons from the county of essex, province of massachusetts, presented a petition through their agent to the government of nova-scotia, for a grant of a township of twelve miles square at the river saint john, they received a favorable answer and obtained full authority to survey a tract of that dimension wherever it might be found fit for improvement. in consequence many of the applicants, proceeded in the course of the winter and spring following to prepare for exploring the country, and to survey such township: they provided a vessel for that purpose, and on the th may, , embarked at newburyport and arrived in three days at the harbour saint john (the th:) the party amounted to near twenty men, exclusive of two families, who took passage in the same vessel, one of whom shipped a small frame for a dwelling, and boards to cover it, with a small stock of cattle; the frame and stock was landed the day of their arrival; on the third day the house was finished and inhabited. the exploring and surveying party then proceeded to view the lands round the harbour and bay of saint john in a whale boat, they brought with them: for they could not travel on the land, on account of the multitude of fallen trees that had been torn up by the roots in a violent gale of wind, nearly four years previous. (the same gale extended as far up the river as the oromocto, and most of the country below that place, was equally incumbered with the fallen trees.)--after making all the discoveries that could be made near the harbour, it was the unanimous opinion that all the lands near that part of the country, were unfit for making any settlements at that time, and in about ten days from their first arrival, they set out to view the country as far as saint anns, ninety miles up the river, where they expected to find an extensive body of clear land that had been formerly improved by the french inhabitants. on their way to that place they landed wherever they saw any appearance of improvement: all such small spots, as far up as milk creek, were supposed not to exceed one hundred acres, most of which had been very roughly cleared.--on the arrival of the exploring party at saint anns, they lost no time in making a shelter for themselves, nearly opposite the river nashwouk, (as it was then pronounced by the indians,) but since, with some variation, as there is in the original names of divers other rivers, lakes, and names by which the tribes were distinguished,--and they commenced their survey at the small gravelly point against government-house, with an intention to survey a township, to terminate twelve miles below that place, and after surveying the courses of the river about four miles downward, a large company of indians came down about nine miles from their priest's residence, with his interpreter: all having painted faces of divers colours and figures, and dressed in their war habits. the chiefs, with grave countenances, informed the adventurers that they were trespassers on their rights: that the country belonged to them, and unless they retired immediately, they, (the indians), would compel them. this gave no small alarm to a few men in the heart of an indian country, most of whom had never beheld a wild indian, but had all their lives heard of their savage cruelties and murders. the reply made to the chiefs was to this effect; that the adventurers had received authority from the governor of halifax to survey and settle any land they should chuse, at the river saint john--that they had never been informed of the indians claiming the village of saint anns; but as they then declared the land there, to be their property, though it had been inhabited by the french who were considered entitled to it, till its capture by the english, they would retire further down the river.--in answer to this the chiefs suggested that the whole country belonged to the indians, they had some time ago, had a conference with governor lawrence, and had consented that the english should settle the country up as far as the grimross: from this acknowledgment of the chiefs, the adventurers were a little relieved from the shock they received at first, and said, they were unwilling to dispute, and would in a few days, remove their camps towards grimross. this answer did not appear fully to satisfy the indians, yet they made no reply. the surveying party removed their camp, according to their promise almost as far down as the lower end of the oromocto island on the east side of the river, whence they finished the survey, twelve miles below the first mentioned bounds: and returned to fort frederick, , , , where there was a vessel bound direct to halifax, and took passage in her, with an account of all their discoveries, and surveys, and with a plan of their township, they had laid out into lots: but they were so unfortunate as to arrive at that place just at that time accounts were received, that the french had sent out a large fleet and a body of land forces, and had taken saint johns, newfoundland, and were almost hourly expected to attack halifax, where at that time was only one man of war, the northumberland, and very few troops. the militia called out; public offices shut, and nothing to be seen but bustle and preparation for the defence of the town, that being the situation of government, the agents and surveyors, for the adventurers were obliged to return without giving any account of their proceedings, or obtaining any confirmation of their former order for surveying a township, or any instructions to govern their conduct in carrying on the intended settlements. this disappointment was, in the autumn of the same year, followed by one still greater. commissioners were sent to fort frederick, to inform the former applicants for grants of lands, that the space they had surveyed would not be granted to them. on receiving this distressing information they sent a petition to the king, stating the expence they had been at, in full confidence, that all the promises and encouragements, they had received from government, would be confirmed. this petition was sent under cover addressed to the then agent for the province, most earnestly soliciting his influence in obtaining a speedy answer for their petition. he took a lively interest in their cause, and in a short time, obtained an order to the governor to grant all such shares in the tract they had laid out, as should from time to time be settled; and the same gentleman advanced a considerable sum for the proprietors, to defray the expence of obtaining such order, and the proprietors, as a mark of their gratitude, and esteem of their patron, gave their town his name, with a small addition to it, and grants were made to all the resident proprietors, in or about the year . the indians had remained peaceable from to : in this year they assembled together, and gave threats of immediately commencing a new war against the english; and the inhabitants of all the frontiers of the province were greatly alarmed, and the commander of fort frederick doubled his sentries on the occasion. the pretexts of the indians were well known to be mostly false and frivolous, and the commandant and inhabitants residing near the garrison, took great pains to persuade the chiefs to lay their complaints before the governor, at halifax, before they engaged in a war that would eventually prove ruinous to themselves, which might be prevented by their stating to government all the grounds of the injuries they complained of: after little consideration they agreed to the proposal, and soon after set out for halifax, accompanied by one of the inhabitants. their business on their first arrival, was, without loss of time, made known to the governor, who appointed a time and place to give the chiefs a hearing of their complaints. they on examination, could not in any degree, support their heaviest charges, and in the end, they admitted they had been misinformed. so that the result of their complaints, amounted to nothing more than that the inhabitants had frequently killed some beavers, moose, and other animals, but not far from their houses, which the chiefs alleged was their exclusive property; and that it was of the condition of a former treaty that the english settlers should not be allowed to kill any wild game in any part of the wilderness, beyond the limits of their farms and improvements. the governor informed them in his answer, that all treaties before that time, should be strictly observed, and that if the inhabitants had in any instance, done anything contrary to such treaties, they should be severely reprimanded and restrained from continuing such practices. the chiefs replied, that it might be out of their power to pacify their young men, unless the damage before done to them should be paid. this brought on an inquiry of the chiefs, what the alleged damage amounted to. in their answer they highly overrated as the inhabitants made it clearly appear, from their statement of the number of animals that had been killed. the chiefs finding themselves detected in having alarmed the country without reason and of having thereby put them in distressing fear and to great expence, appeared ashamed of their conduct, and could only repeat that the indians of their tribe would insist on being paid the damages for the loss of their wild animals. after a full hearing a final answer was given them; as follows.--that although the grievances that they had stated were by no means sufficient to justify their hostile proceedings; yet to do them ample justice, he would order to be sent them a certain amount in clothing and provisions (amount not remembered) provided they would consider it full satisfaction for the injuries done by the settlers, and send orders to restrain them from hunting wild animals in the woods. the chiefs accepted that offer, and the indians remained peaceable, till the commencement of the revolt of the thirteen colonies, when they were called upon to aid in defence of the province, or at least to remain neuter. they promised to do either one or the other; for which purpose government gave them large presents in necessary supplies for their families. they were at the same time, equally solicited by the americans; and as large or larger presents made by them; and they continued to live mostly at the expence of the two parties during that war. in the indians again assembled, and threatened to make war against the english; and went down in as great a body as they could collect, to near fort howe, where they were met by a messenger from the commandant, and a deputy agent for indian affairs, who appeased the indians, with a promise of presents (commonly so called), which they accepted and the purchase of a continuance of peace; and they returned to their head-quarters at opage. this was the last threat of an indian war. notes.--notwithstanding all the obstacles and discouragements before noticed, the number of families at the river saint john, including a few settlers on the islands in passamaquoddy bay, amounted to between one hundred and one hundred and fifty families prior to the year . memo.--the french priest who had been forty years employed by france, as a missionary to the indians, was ordered to leave the province in , being suspected of influencing and instructing the indians to make extravagant demands on government as commissions of their remaining peaceable, at the same time all the french families, then in scattered settlements on the north side of the bay were ordered to leave the province. they all obeyed the mandate: but in a few years, many returned, one after another, and became quiet subjects. remarks. _on the state of that part of ancient nova-scotia lying north of the bay of fundy, now in the province of new-brunswick, prior to the year ._ the french government in defiance of former treaties continued to erect forts around the harbour of saint john, and to send troops for the defence of this part of the country (considering it theirs) and to employ the natives to harass and murder the settlers in the district of maine, thus for many years preventing the settlement of that part of the british dominions as far west as that district or province extended; and the french more recently built a fort and named it beau-sejour, at the head of the bay: from which place they supplied with arms, &c. the tribes of indians who inhabited the coasts on the gulph of saint lawrence and the rivers that fall into the same. the indians were also employed to check and prevent the settlements of the country called minas, cobequis and other parts of the province on the peninsula of acadia or halifax. to prevent the continuance of such depredations, the british government sent an expedition in , to take possession of this fort, which was not obtained till after an obstinate resistance from the french, who for some years after it was reduced, continued to fortify their settlements on the banks of the river st. john, at passamaquoddy, and to employ the natives in the service, to prevent the english from extending their settlements eastward of the river kennebeck and the inhabitants were continually harassed, and often murdered by savages frequently sent by the french for that purpose at kennebeck and many miles westward for a long course of time. in the year , an expedition was sent from halifax or boston to reduce the only remaining french forts of any considerable strength, north of the bay of fundy; situated on the west side of the river, below the falls, within the present limits of the city saint john. but the french commander, having received notice of this expedition some time before its arrival, removed all the light stores further up the river, sunk all his heavy guns as reported by frenchmen who were present and demolished the fort. he first made his retreat only about four leagues above the falls, where he had previously erected works, surrounded by a thick wood, in order to be covered by indian soldiers, who will never fight on open ground, nor suffer themselves to be driven within the walls of a garrison by a beseiging force. the french soon after retired to saint anns, and not long afterwards to canada. the demolished fort was rebuilt on the ground of the old one, and garrisoned the winter following, by a body of provincial troops, and a company of rangers, sent from louisburgh. the same company of rangers as a scouting party, in march , marched up the river on the ice as far as saint anns. the few inhabitants below that village had either fled before this party appeared, to st. anns, or into the woods, and no prisoner was taken to give information concerning the situation or strength of the enemy, yet they continued a forced march as far up as saint anns, where they found the village deserted. they set fire to every building in it, and returned with great precipitation to the fort frederick, expecting to be pursued by the enemy. this company was early this spring ordered to join the expedition against quebeck, the fort was garrisoned with a company or more of provincials till the next or second year: when they were relieved by a company of one of the highland regiments. the fort afterwards continued to be garrisoned by a company of some british regiments, under different commandants until , when the british troops were embarked from every post in the province, on account of some disorders that had recently been committed in boston: the barracks and stores were by order of government placed under the care of one of the inhabitants residing near the several forts, specially authorized by government for that service. in , a corporal and six privates were sent to reside in the barracks of fort frederick. in may , a brig was sent from boston, to procure fresh provisions for the british army then in that town, from the settlement of the river saint john. the same vessel was laden with stock, poultry, and sundry other articles most brought from maugerville in small vessels and gondolas: all which had been put on board within about fifteen days after the brig had arrived. while she was waiting for a fair wind and clear weather, an armed sloop of four guns and full of men, from machias, came into the harbour, took possession of the brig, and two days after, carried her off to machias; but the first night after her arrival, the enemy made the small party in the fort prisoners, plundered them of every thing in it, and set fire to all the barracks: but at that time they did not molest any of the inhabitants, on the opposite side of the river. early next spring an armed brig from machias entered the harbour after having taken a vessel from the west-indies, belonging to portland, which they immediately sent to boston. the two armed vessels continued more than a week in the harbour and sent an officer with a boat full of men to maugerville: they did no material injury to the settlers. in and large parties of armed men came into the river saint john, in whale boats from machias and passed through the falls in their boats, and took possession of several empty buildings on the west shore of the river against the present settlements called the indian house, and occupied them for barracks, whence they came over every day to portland shore, and marched along the tongue of land, between the harbour and the water above the falls; in order to capture any vessels that might enter the river and to prevent the landing of marines, or seamen from any british ship. in , the vulture sloop of war, was stationed in the bay, between annapolis and saint john for the protection of these places, and to prevent the enemy from venturing further up the bay to plunder the towns of horton, cornwallis and other settlements at the water side in different places, but it was soon found that these towns could not be secured from depredations, as the enemy would pass by all large ships of war in the night and in fogs. early in the summer of the vulture came into the harbour of saint john while the machias party were at their head-quarters, above the falls. some notes regarding peter fisher the first historian of new-brunswick. by rev. w. o. raymond, ll.d. peter fisher's claim to be the first of our historians rests upon two little books, both printed by a well known publishing firm in market square, in the city of st. john, in the early years of the last century. the first of these books appeared in . it comprises pages, written in excellent literary style and, considering mr. fisher's limited sources of information, is remarkably accurate. in the preface he observes: "this work, however imperfect, must be useful, as giving the _first_ general outline of the province, and interesting to every person who possesses a feeling for his own fireside." the other book, "notitia of new-brunswick," comprises pages, and was printed in . in the advertisement at the beginning, the author states that "circumstances have compelled him to relinquish in part his original plan, and to contract the scope of the publication, since the times do not warrant any great outlay on works of this description." the two books are really pamphlets in yellow paper covers, and are now so rare as to be much sought for by collectors of "canadiana." both books are written under the _nom de plume_ of "an inhabitant," and the motto that follows is the same in each, namely:-- "whatever concerns my country, interests me; i follow nature, with truth my guide." before proceeding to consider the personality of our first historian and to speak further of his writings, it will be of interest to speak of his antecedents. his father, lewis fisher, served in the war of the american revolution, on the side of the crown, in the new jersey volunteers, a brigade commanded by brigadier general cortlandt skinner, the last royal attorney-general of new jersey. the corps was sometimes known as "skinner's greens." it was numerically the largest organization of british americans in howe's army. officers and men were mostly natives of new jersey, new-york and pennsylvania. one of the original six battalions was commanded by lieutenant-colonel abraham van buskirk and it contained a large dutch element. among the officers were major van cortlandt, captains william van allen, peter ruttan, samuel ryerson, jacob van buskirk and waldron blaan; lieutenants martin ryerson, john van norden, john heslop, john simonson and joost (or justus) earle; ensigns colin mcvean, xenophon jouett, malcolm wilmot, william sorrell and frederick handroff. among the men in the ranks--many of whom came to new brunswick and settled near fredericton--we find such names as vanhorne, vanderbeck, ackerman, fisher, burkstaff, swim, ridner, vanwoert, woolley, etc. by the settlement of so many men of this corps in new-brunswick, the same thrifty "knickerbocker" element that figured in the development of new-york, new jersey and pennsylvania was planted in this province. lewis fisher joined the new jersey volunteers on december , . he was taken prisoner a few weeks later, together with his brother peter and fifteen others. after an absence of a year and nine months he effected his escape and returned to his duty on october , . he was thenceforth stationed chiefly at staten island, where his three oldest children--eliza, henry and peter--were born. when the war closed the new jersey volunteers were quartered at newtown, three miles east of brooklyn, on long island, n.y. in the earlier muster rolls we find fisher's name entered as lodewick fischer, but later he adopted the english form lewis fisher. his wife, mary, was probably of english parentage. she was the mother of a very large family and a woman of resolute spirit, which she transmitted to her descendants. the new jersey volunteers never numbered more than , , of all ranks. they, however, rendered essential service in new jersey and in the defence of staten island. one of the battalions under lieut.-col. isaac allen, was conspicuous for its gallantry in the campaigns in georgia and south carolina. at the close of the war the original six battalions had been consolidated into three, under command of lieut.-col. stephen delancey, lieut.-col. isaac allen and lieut.-col. abraham vanbuskirk. the war may be said to have ended with the surrender of the army under lord cornwallis, at yorktown, on october , , and little attempt at recruiting was made subsequently; consequently the regiments continued to dwindle until, at the evacuation of new-york, two years later, they were not more than one-third of their original strength. the new jersey volunteers, a year after their arrival in new-brunswick, were mustered by thomas knox, under the supervision of col. edward winslow. the return is dated at fort howe, september , , and the number of those then on their lands, and for whom the royal bounty of provisions was furnished, was as follows:-- men women children servants total over under st new jersey vols. nd " " rd " " --- --- --- --- --- --- total the commander of the rd battalion, lieut.-col. vanbuskirk, did not come with his men to the river st. john but settled in shelburne, where he was the first mayor of the town. the troops for st. john sailed in charge of lieut.-col. richard hewlett as senior officer, with lieut.-col. gabriel deveber second in command. they left new-york on september , , and arrived safely in st. john harbour on the th, with the exception of the transports "martha" and "esther." the former was wrecked near yarmouth and more than half of her passengers were lost. the "esther," in which vanbuskirk's battalion had embarked, got off her course in the fog and narrowly escaped destruction, arriving a day or two behind her sister ships. as peter fisher was born on staten island, on june , , he was a very young loyalist indeed at the time of his arrival in blue-nose land, being, in point of fact, less than sixteen months old. sir guy carleton's orders were that the several corps should proceed at once to the places allotted for their settlement, directions having been given to captain john colville, assistant agent of all small craft at the st. john river, to afford every assistance in his power to the corps in getting to their destinations. three days after their arrival the troops disembarked and encamped above the falls, near the indian house. hewlett wrote sir guy carleton that he feared the want of small craft would greatly delay their progress. he writes again on the th october, , that the troops had been disbanded and were getting up the river as fast as the scarcity of small craft for conveying them would admit. i shall pause here to relate an incident, which will indicate the source from which peter fisher derived the information he gives us concerning the arrival of the loyalists at st. ann's and their subsequent hardships. about twenty-five years ago william, the youngest son of peter fisher, read to me in his apartments in the old park hotel, in st. john, a manuscript which contained the recollections of one of his sisters of her various conversations with her old grandmother, mary fisher, concerning the coming to new-brunswick and the subsequent experience of her family at st. ann's. mr. fisher did not entrust the manuscript to my hands but allowed me to make full notes, and afterwards at my request re-read the whole, in order that i might make sure of my facts. the story which now follows is, of course, not quoted from the lips of the first narrator, but is based upon the notes made by her granddaughter in which are embodied the recollections of the conversations she had with her grandmother. the grandmother's story. we sailed from new-york in the ship "esther" with the fleet for nova-scotia. some of our ships were bound for halifax, some for shelburne and rome for st. john's river. our ship going the wrong track was nearly lost. when we got to st. john we found the place all in confusion; some were living in log houses, some building huts, and many of the soldiers living in their tents at the lower cove. soon after we landed we joined a party bound up the river in a schooner to st. ann's. it was eight days before we got to oromocto. there the captain put us ashore being unwilling on account of the lateness of the season, or for some other reason, to go further. he charged us each four dollars for the passage. we spent the night on shore and the next day the women and children proceeded in indian canoes to st. ann's with some of the party; the rest came on foot. we reached our destination on the th day of october, tired out with our long journey, and pitched our tents at the place now called salamanca, near the shore. the next day we explored for a place to encamp, for the winter was near and we had no time to lose. the season was wet and cold, and we were much discouraged at the gloomy prospect before us. those who had arrived a little earlier had made better preparations for the winter; some had built small log huts. this we could not do because of the lateness of our arrival. snow fell on the nd day of november to the depth of six inches. we pitched our tents in the shelter of the woods and tried to cover them with spruce boughs. we used stones for fireplaces. our tent had no floor but the ground. the winter was very cold, with deep snow, which we tried to keep from drifting in by putting a large rug at the door. the snow, which lay six feet around us, helped greatly in keeping out the cold. how we lived through that awful winter i hardly know. there were mothers, that had been reared in a pleasant country enjoying all the comforts of life, with helpless children in their arms. they clasped their infants to their bosoms and tried by the warmth of their own bodies to protect them from the bitter cold. sometimes a part of the family had to remain up during the night to keep the fires burning, so as to keep the rest from freezing. some destitute people made use of boards, which the older ones kept heating before the fire and applied by turns to the smaller children to keep them warm. many women and children, and some of the men, died from cold and exposure. graves were dug with axes and shovels near the spot where our party had landed, and there in stormy winter weather our loved ones were buried. we had no minister, so we had to bury them without any religious service, besides our own prayers. the first burial ground continued to be used for some years until it was nearly filled. we called it "the loyalist provincials burial ground." the site of this old grave-yard, is on the ketchum place at salamanca, just below fredericton, near the shore. some rude headstones may perhaps yet be found there. the late adolphus g. beckwith told me that he remembered when a boy to have seen a number of pine "head-boards," much decayed, but still standing in this old cemetery. the painted epitaphs, or inscriptions, were in some cases fairly well preserved. he remembered, he said, that many of the names seemed to be german (or dutch), a statement which i hardly credited at the time, but which is entirely in harmony with the old grandmother's story. continuing her narrative, she says: among those who came with us to st. ann's, or who were there when we arrived were messrs. swim, burkstaff, mccomesky, three named ridner, wooley, bass, paine, ryerse, acker, lownsberry, ingraham, buchanan, ackerman, donley, vanderbeck, smith, essington and some few others. here again the grandmother's story is confirmed by the muster rolls of the new jersey volunteers, lately placed by our historical society in the dominion archives at ottawa for safe-keeping. nearly all the names she mentions are to be found there. in captain waldron blaan's company, we find john swim, vincent swim, moses mccomesky, david burkstaff, frederick burkstaff. in col. vanbuskirk's company we find abraham vanderbeck, conrad ridner, abraham ackerman, morris ackerman and marmaduke ackerman. in captain edward earle's company, lodewick fisher, peter ridnor and peter smith. in captain samuel ryerson's company, samuel buchanan. in captain jacob buskirk's company, james ackerman. benjamin ingraham, mentioned above, was a sergeant in the king's american regiment; he served in the carolinas, where he nearly died of yellow fever, and was severely wounded in the battle of camden. he arrived at st. ann's in a row-boat in october, , and built a small log house in the woods into which he moved on the th of november, at which time there was six inches of snow on the ground. the story now continues: when the loyalists arrived there were only three houses standing on the old st. ann's plain. two of them were old frame houses, the other a log house (which stood near the old fisher place). there were said to have been two bodies of people murdered here. it could not have been long before the arrival of the loyalists that this happened. many of the loyalists who came in the spring had gone further up the river, but they were little better off for provisions than we were at st. ann's. supplies expected before the close of navigation did not come, and at one time starvation stared us in the face. it was a dreary contrast to our former conditions. some of our men had to go down the river with hand-sleds or toboggans to get food for their famishing families. a full supply of provisions was looked for in the spring, but the people were betrayed by those they depended upon to supply them. all the settlers were reduced to great straits and had to live after the indian fashion. a party of loyalists who came before us late in the spring, had gone up the river further, but they were no better off than those at st. ann's. the men caught fish and hunted moose when they could. in the spring we made maple sugar. we ate fiddle heads, grapes and even the leaves of trees to allay the pangs of hunger. on one occasion some poisonous weeds were eaten along with the fiddle heads; one or two died, and dr. earle had all he could do to save my life. as soon as the snow was off the ground we began to build log houses, but were obliged to desist for want of food. your grandfather went up the river to captain mckay's for provisions, and found no one at home but an old colored slave woman, who said her master and his man had gone out to see if they could obtain some potatoes or meal, having in the house only half a box of biscuits. some of the people at st. ann's, who had planted a few potatoes, were obliged to dig them up and eat them. again a few comments will show the reliability of the old lady's narrative. the three houses she mentions on the site of fredericton were those of benjamin atherton, built about at the upper end of the town, near the site of the old government house; philip weade's, which stood on the river bank in front of the cathedral, and olivier thibodeau's, an acadian, whose log house was at the lower end of town. the tradition regarding the massacre of some of the first settlers at st. ann's refers doubtless to the destruction of the french settlement there by mccurdy's new england rangers in february, , as is described at page in dr. raymond's "st. john river history." the party of loyalists, who had gone further up the river in the late spring of , were the king's american dragoons, who settled in prince william. resuming once more the narrative, the grandmother says: in our distress we were gladdened by the discovery of some large patches of pure white beans, marked with a black cross. they had probably been originally planted by the french, but were, now growing wild. in our joy at the discovery we called them at first the "royal provincials' bread," but afterwards "the staff of life and hope of the starving." i planted some of these beans with my own hands, and the seed was preserved in our family for many years. there was great rejoicing when the first schooner arrived with corn-meal and rye. in those days the best passages up and down the river took from three to five days. sometimes the schooners were a week or ten days on the way. it was not during the first year alone that we suffered from want of food, other years were nearly as bad. the first summer after our arrival all hands united in building their log houses. dr. earle's was the first that was finished. our people had but few tools and those of the rudest sort. they had neither bricks or lime, and chimneys and fireplaces were built of stone laid in yellow clay. they covered the roofs of the houses with bark bound over with small poles. the windows had only four small panes of glass. the first store was kept by a man named cairns, who lived in an old house on the bank of the river near the gate of the first church built in fredericton [in front of the present cathedral]. he used to sell fish at one penny each and butternuts at two for a penny. he also sold tea at $ . per lb. which was to us a great boon. we greatly missed our tea. sometimes we used an article called labrador, and sometimes steeped spruce or hemlock bark for drinking, but i despised it. there were no domestic animals in our settlement at first except one black and white cat, which was a great pet. some wicked fellows, who came from the states, killed, roasted and ate the cat, to our great indignation. a man named conley owned the first cow. poor conley afterwards hanged himself, the reason for which was never known. for years there were no teams, and our people had to work hard to get their provisions. potatoes were planted among the black stumps and turned out well. pigeons used to come in great numbers and were shot or caught by the score in nets. we found in their crops some small round beans, which we planted; they grew very well and made excellent green beans, which we ate during the summer. in the winter time our people had sometimes to haul their provisions by hand fifty or a hundred miles over the ice or through the woods. in summer they came in slow sailing vessels. on one occasion dr. earle and others went up the river to canada on snowshoes with hand sleds, returning with bags of flour and biscuits. it was a hard and dangerous journey, and they were gone a long time. for several years we lived in dread of the indians, who were sometimes very bold. i have heard that the indians from canada once tried to murder the people on the st. john river. coming down the river they captured an indian woman of the st. john tribe, and the chief said they would spare her if she would be their guide. they had eleven canoes in all, and they were tied together and the canoe of the guide attached to the hindermost. as they drew near the grand falls, most of the party were asleep; and the rest were deceived by the woman, who told them that the roaring they heard was caused by a fall at the mouth of the stream which here joined the main river. at the critical moment the indian woman cut the cord which fastened her canoe to the others and escaped to the shore, while the canada indians went over the fall and were lost.[ ] [ ] it is of interest to know that this legend was told by the indians to the english settlers shortly after their arrival. the name of the indian heroine is given as malobianah, or malabeam. in the early days of the settlement at st. ann's, some fellows that had come from the states used to disturb the other settlers. they procured liquor at vanhorne's tavern and drank heavily. they lived in a log cabin which soon became a resort for bad characters. they formed a plot to go up the river and plunder the settlers--provisions being their chief object. they agreed that if any of their party were killed in the expedition they should prevent discovery of their identity by putting him into a hole cut in the ice. while they were endeavoring to effect an entrance into a settler's house, a shot, fired out of a window, wounded a young man in the leg. the others then desisted from their attempt, but cut a hole in the ice and thrust the poor fellow in, who had been shot, although he begged to be allowed to die in the woods, and promised, if found alive not to betray them, but they would not trust him. here the story of the old grandmother comes abruptly to an end. enough, however, is preserved in these extracts to indicate the source of a good deal of the very valuable information concerning the early experience of the loyalists in the new brunswick wilderness, which appears in mr. fisher's "sketches of new-brunswick." doubtless what he has related on this topic in his little book is based upon what he learned from the lips of his mother. to her care and devotion, in all human probability, he owed his preservation during the first eventful winter spent under canvas on the old st. ann's plain. peter fisher acquired a pretty good education, for those days. a _fac simile_ of his signature is here given, which shows that his penmanship was excellent, and compared more than favorably with that of his son and name-sake, lewis peter fisher, who was for some thirty odd years mayor of woodstock, and the leading barrister of that place, and whose signature is also here given for comparison. [illustration: signature of peter fisher signature of lewis peter fisher] the advantages of education were not great in the elder peter fisher's day, but he had a pretty competent instructor in an english school master, bealing stephens williams, who was born in cornwall in , and came to nova-scotia, a clerk in the navy in . he settled in cumberland, n.s., where he taught school and was married, removing to fredericton in , where he again taught school for nearly forty years. he was an accomplished penman and an expert in arithmetic and the elementary mathematics. there can be no doubt, i think, that fisher was indebted to this gentleman for an education that was very fair indeed, in the then circumstances of the country. fisher unquestionably possessed a good deal of natural ability, and was something of a philosopher, as will appear when we come to consider his writings. he carried on quite an extensive business in lumbering at one time. he was noted as a tireless pedestrian and there were few, even among his juniors, who could keep pace with him in a walk of fifty miles, which he thought nothing of. he married on august , , susanna stephens williams, the rev. george pidgeon, rector of fredericton, officiating at the wedding. their family was a large one, seven sons and four daughters.[ ] the late judge charles fisher, who was born september , , was the oldest. another son, henry fisher, was chief superintendent of education of new-brunswick. lewis peter fisher, a younger son, was for years woodstock's most prominent citizen and a very eminent lawyer. another son, william fisher, was for some years indian commissioner. one of the daughters was the wife of hon. charles connell, postmaster general, at one time in the local government, and a member of the first dominion parliament for the county of carleton. at least three of the sons of peter fisher were actively interested in education. of these charles fisher received the degree of b.a. at king's college, now the university of new brunswick, in . his was the first class to graduate after the incorporation of the college by royal charter, under the name of king's college with the style and privileges of a university. he read law with judge street, then advocate general, was admitted attorney in and barrister in . he spent a year at one of the inns of court in england. his alma mater conferred on him the degree of d.c.l. in . judge fisher during his public life was a warm friend of the college at fredericton. at the session of the provincial legislature, in , he moved the bill under which the old king's college was transformed into the university of new-brunswick. he was later a member of the senate of the university. [ ] i am pretty certain that susanna stephens williams was a daughter of bealing stephens williams, the school master.--w. o. r. henry fisher has already been mentioned as one of the early chief superintendents of education. his portrait may be seen in the office of dr. w. s. carter, chief superintendent of education, in fredericton. lewis peter fisher, of woodstock, was for years an active trustee of the carleton county grammar school, and a strenuous advocate of free school education. he had no children. by his will he left his large fortune to establish a number of institutions of an educational and philanthropic character in the town of woodstock, the affairs of which he had long ably administered as mayor. these institutions include: the fisher memorial hospital, established at a cost of $ , fisher memorial public school , " vocational school , " free public library , ----------- total $ , this is the largest individual benefaction to any community in new-brunswick, if not in the maritime provinces. the memorial buildings are all situated within the limits of the town of woodstock, and, with the exception of the hospital, are handsome substantial brick buildings. in addition to the gift of the buildings and their equipment, the estate contributes from time to time to their maintenance, under the capable administration of the trustees, a. b. connell, k. c., and col. f. h. j. dibblee. it will thus be seen that although the late mayor of woodstock left no child to perpetuate his name, his memory will be kept green for future generations as a philanthropist and a man of high ideals. space will not admit of any extended reference to the descendants of our first provincial historian. a short sketch of the life of the hon. charles fisher will be found in lawrence's "judges of new-brunswick and their times," pages - . as a man who in his day rendered essential service to his native province, charles fisher deserves a more extensive biography than has hitherto been attempted by any writer. [illustration: a moose.] forest life and forest trees: comprising winter camp-life among the loggers, and wild-wood adventure. with descriptions of lumbering operations on the various rivers of maine and new brunswick. by john s. springer. new york: harper & brothers, publishers, cliff street. . entered, according to act of congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty-one, by harper & brothers, in the clerk's office of the district court of the southern district of new york. preface. the writer of the following pages was reared among the pine forests of maine, and has spent several of the most pleasant years of his life in active participation in many of the scenes here delineated. the incidents he has related are real, and in no case is the truth sacrificed to fancy or embellishment. when the author commenced writing, his motive was to indulge somewhat in pleasant reminiscences of the past, and to live over again that portion of his life which, in general, was so pleasantly spent among the wild mountains, forests, lakes, and rivers of maine. it was during this retrospective exercise with his pen that the idea of writing a book, embracing his own experience and observations during the time in which he participated in the lumberman's life, suggested itself. recollecting that, while the life, habits, and adventures of many classes of men had engaged the attention of the reading community, and that, among the multitude of narratives issued from the press, nothing of interest or importance had been put forth exemplifying the life and adventures of a very large class of persons known as lumbermen, he naturally became possessed with a desire to entertain others with some relation of what appeared to him to afford sufficient material for a book of some interest, and chiefly because the matter it might embrace had never been presented in a connected detail. suggesting the substance of what has already been said to several intelligent lumbermen, an interest was at once awakened in their feelings upon the subject, accompanied with an urgent request that the plan should be prosecuted, and that a work should be prepared which might make their pursuits, adventures, and hardships more generally known. to many of these friends the author is also indebted for some assistance in furnishing statistical matter. in incorporating the somewhat lengthy notice of forest trees, forming the first part of this volume, the author has ventured to make his own taste and feelings the criterion by which he has been guided in his selections and observations for the reader, and although they may not hold a strict relation to the narrative, he hopes that they may not be deemed inappropriate or uninteresting. this volume makes no pretensions to literary merit; sooner would it, indeed, claim kindred with the wild and uncultivated scenes of which it is but a simple relation. in justice to the gentlemen whom he has quoted in arranging the statistical portion of this volume, as well as to himself, the author would state that the material was procured some four years ago. the statement of this fact may account for any discrepancy which may appear from more recent accounts of the lumbering interests, should they be found to vary from the representations here made. the author. part i. trees of america. part ii. the pine-tree, or forest life. part iii. river life. contents. part i. trees of america. chapter i. trees, how regarded by lumbermen.--cedars of lebanon.--oldest tree on record.--napoleon's regard for it.--dimensions.--durability of the cedar, how accounted for.--the oak.--religious veneration in which it was held by the druids.--the uses to which their shade was appropriated.--curious valuation of oak forests by the ancient saxons.--the number of species.--its value.--remarkable old oak in brighton.--charter oak.--button-wood tree.--remarkable rapidity of its growth.--remarkable size of one measured by washington.--by michaux.--disease in , ' , and ' .--the oriental plane-tree --great favorite with the ancients.--cimon's effort to gratify the athenians.--pliny's account of its transportation.--the privilege of its shade a tax.--used as an ornament.--nourished with wine.--hortensius and cicero.--pliny's curious account of one of remarkable size chapter ii. the elm.--english elm.--scotch elm.--slippery elm.--american elm.--superiority of latter.--different shapes, how accounted for.--great elm on boston common.--rapidity of growth.--the riding stick.--remarkable dimensions of noted trees.--boston elm again.-- its age.--by whom set out.--washington elm, why so named.--"trees of peace," a tribute of respect.--english elm in england and america.--uses in france.--in russia.--birch family.--its variety and uses.--the maple family.--number of species.--red maple.--unrivaled beauty of american forests.--rock maple.--amount of wood cut from one in blandford.--curious method of distinguishing it from the river maple.--amount and value of the sugar in massachusetts.--great product from one tree.--sugar maple in the state of maine.--dr. jackson's reports, &c. chapter iii. beech-trees.--purity, size, fruit.--efforts of bears after the nut.--the uses to which its leaves are appropriated.--mr. lauder's testimony, &c.--use of wood.--singular exemption.--the novel appearance of the leaves of a species in germany.--chestnut-tree --remarkable one on mount Ætna.--balm of gilead.--willow.--ash.-- basswood, or tiel-tree.--the poplar.--the hemlock.--beauties of its foliage.--uses.--hickory.--the fir-tree.--spruce-tree.--its conical form.--uses.--american larch.--success of the dukes of athol in planting it on the highlands of scotland part ii. the pine-tree, or forest life. chapter i. the pines.--white pines: rank claimed for this variety.--predilections. --comparison instituted.--pitch and norway pines.--white pine.-- magnitude.--new york pines.--lambert's pine on northwest coast.-- varieties.--its rank.--great variety of purposes to which it is devoted.--great pine near jackson lake.--capital invested.--hands employed on the penobscot chapter ii. the pine twenty-five years ago.--its rapid disappearance.--explorations.--outfit.--up-river journeying.--its distance.--mode of nightly encampment.--cooking.--disturbed slumbers. --ludicrous fright.--deer.--encounter with bears.--mode of exploring. --forest observatory.--climbing trees.--the emotions excited by the view.--necessity of compass.--nature's compass.--the return.-- annoyances from mischievous bears.--stumpage.--permits.--outfit and return.--crossing carrying-places.--a strong man.--skill of boatmen.--item of personal experience.--blind path.--a family in the wilderness.--things to be considered in locating camps chapter iii. method of constructing camp and hovel.--timber.--covering.--arrangement of interior.--the bed.-- deacon seat.--ingenious method of making a seat.--cooking: superior method of baking.--the nightly camp fire.--liabilities from taking fire.--a camp consumed.--men burned to death.--enjoyment.--the new camp: dedication.--a song.--a story.--new order in architecture.-- ox hovel.--substitute for lime.--the devotedness of the teamster. --fat and lean cattle.--swamping roads.--clumps of pine.--the points of interest in a logging road.--the teamster's path.--regret.--the peculiar enjoyment of men thus engaged chapter iv. tokens of winter.--the anticipation.--introduction of team.-- difficulties attending it.--uncomfortable boating.--the contrast. --method of crossing streams and rivers.--the docility of the ox. --facilities of turnpikes.--stopping-places.--arrival.--an adventure.--ten oxen in the ice.--method of taking them out.--an uncomfortable night.--the midnight excursion.--oxen running at large in the wilderness.--developments of memory.--logging.--division of labor.--how to manage in the absence of a cook.--"uncle nat."-- anecdote.--felling pines.--ingenuity of choppers.--preparatory arrangements.--the bob-sled.--method of operation described.-- the excitement.--comparison.--immediate length of pine-trees. --conclusion chapter v. the skill and enterprise of lumbermen.--method of taking logs down hills and mountains.--dry sluice.--stern anchor.--giant mountain steps.--alpine lumbering.--warping a team down steeps.--trial of skill and strength.--the rival load.--danger and inconvenience of hills in logging roads.--a distressing accident.--solemn conclusion of a winter's work.--some of the perils attendant upon lumbering.-- a fearful wound.--narrow escape.--the buried cap.--the safest way of retreat.--a sabbath in the logging camp.--sunday morning naps.--domestic camp duties.--letter writing.--recreations.--sable traps.--deer and moose.--bear meat.--a rare joke.--moose hunt.-- bewildered hunters.--extraordinary encounter.--conclusion of sabbath in the woods chapter vi. camp life.--winter evenings.--an evening in camp.--characters.-- card-playing.--a song.--collision with wild beasts.--the unknown animal in a dilemma.--"indian devil."--the aborigines' terror.--a shocking encounter.--the discovery and pursuit.--the bear as an antagonist.--their thieving propensities.--a thrilling scene in the night.--a desperate encounter with three bears chapter vii. provision teams.--liabilities.--a night in the woods.--traveling on ice.--a span of horses lost.--pat's adventure.--drogers' caravan. --horses in the water.--recovery of a sunken load.--returning volunteers from aroostook.--description of a log tavern.--perils on lakes in snow-storms.--camping at night.--rude ferry-boats part iii. river life. chapter i. "breaking up."--grotesque parading down river.--rum and intemperance. --religious rites profaned.--river-driving on temperance principles. --the first experiment.--a spiritual song chapter ii. log-landing.--laborious exposure.--damming streams.--exciting scenes.--log-riding.--fun.--breaking a dry-landing.--a sudden death.--thrilling scenes on the "nesourdnehunk."--lake-driving.-- steam tow-boat.--remarks on lake navigation.--driving the main river.--union of crews.--substantial jokes.--log marks.--dangers of river-driving.--sad feelings over the grave of a river-driver. --singular substitute for a coffin.--burial of a river-driver.-- a log jam.--great excitement.--a boat swamped.--a man drowned.-- narrow escape.--mode of living on the river.--wangun.--antidote for asthma.--the wangun swamped.--an awful struggle.--the miraculous escape.--driving among the islands.--amusing exertions at identifying.--consummation of driving.--the claims of lumbering business for greater prominence.--the boom chapter iii. observations on the st. croix river.--boundary line.--pine timber. --agriculture in the interior.--youthful associations with grand lake.--traditionary name of grand lake.--lake che-pet-na-cook.-- rise of eastern branch st. croix.--lumbering prospects.--hemlock. --reciprocal relations of the lumber trade between americans and provincials.--the machias rivers.--origin of name.--character of soil.--lumber resources and statistics.--west machias.--narraguagues river, curious definition of.--capacity of stream.--statistics.-- union river.--observations on its lumbering interests.--mills in franklin chapter iv. penobscot river.--its various names.--character of the country through which it flows.--its length.--the vast extent of territory which it drains.--its multitude of lakes.--mount ktaadn.--indian legend.-- elevation of the mountain.--overwhelming prospect.--a sabbath in the wilderness.--moose in the lake.--an uncomfortable night.--dr. jackson's narrative.--new lumber resources.--the interesting origin of this new resource.--john bull outwitted.--freshets on the penobscot.--freshet of , cause of it.--sudden rise of water. --bangor submerged.--bowlders of ice.--destruction of property.-- narrow escape of ferry-boat.--peril of boys.--editorial observations. --lumber statistics.--where the lumber finds a market.--speculations on future prospects of lumbering interests.--anticipations of the future.--bangor chapter v. length of kennebeck.--moose-head lake.--its peculiar shape.--its islands.--burned jacket.--interesting deposit.--mount kineo.--the prospect from its summit.--moose river.--old indian.--the banks of the kennebeck.--beauties of the country, &c.--lumber on dead river. --falls at waterville.--skowhegan falls.--arnold's encampment.-- nau-lau-chu-wak.--caritunk falls.--lumber.--statistics.--author's acknowledgments.--androscoggin.--course and other peculiarities. --a question of rivalry.--water power.--original indications.-- interesting sketch of rumford falls.--estimated water power.-- lumber statistics.--droughts and freshets.--umbagog lake.--the serpentine megalloway.--granite mountains.--beautiful foliage.-- romantic falls.--character of country.--manner of life in log-cutting, &c.--statistics, &c.--presumpscot river, great water-powers of.--warmth of water.--statistical remarks.--saco river chapter vi. new brunswick. object of the chapter.--description of st. john's river.--first falls.--contiguous country.--"mars hill."--prospect.--grand falls. --the acadians, curious facts respecting them.--the mirimachi river.--immense amount of timber shipped.--riots.--state of morals.--the great mirimachi fire.--hurricane.--destruction of human life.--area of the fire.--vessels in harbor.--painfully disgusting sights.---destruction among fish.--fire, rapidity of progress.--curious instance of escape.--ristigouche river, its length.--capacious harbor.--appearance of the country.--high banks.--groves of pine.--a statistical table list of engravings. frontispiece--moose deer. shooting deer--black bear winter quarters of lumbermen log hauling--process of loading logs the common wolf log tavern in the wilderness river drivers breaking a jam a coaster ascending the penobscot for lumber view of the penobscot--forests and lakes northeast from ktaadn northeast view of mount ktaadn, from the west branch of the penobscot godfrey's falls, on the seboois river chase's mountain, as seen from sugar-loaf mountain sugar-loaf mountain, on the seboois river view of lily bay, on moose-head lake skowhegan falls, on the kennebeck rumford falls, on the androscoggin view of umbagog lake--source of the androscoggin frye's falls, on a tributary of ellis river rumford bridge, androscoggin river aroostook falls forest life and forest trees. part i. chapter i. trees, how regarded by lumbermen.--cedars of lebanon.--oldest tree on record.--napoleon's regard for it.--dimensions.--durability of the cedar, how accounted for.--the oak.--religious veneration in which it was held by the druids.--the uses to which their shade was appropriated.--curious valuation of oak forests by the ancient saxons.--the number of species.--its value.--remarkable old oak in brighton.--charter oak.--button-wood tree.--remarkable rapidity of its growth.--remarkable size of one measured by washington.--by michaux.--disease in , ' , and ' .--the oriental plane-tree. --great favorite with the ancients.--cimon's effort to gratify the athenians.--pliny's account of its transportation.--the privilege of its shade a tax.--used as an ornament.--nourished with wine.-- hortensius and cicero.--pliny's curious account of one of remarkable size. lumbermen are accustomed to classify and rate forest trees by the lower, middle, and higher grades, just as animals are classified, from the muscle, through the intermediate grades, up to man, the crowning master-piece of the creator's skill. but while man is universally recognized as first in the scale of animated nature, there is less uniformity of sentiment in respect to trees, as to which is entitled to hold the first rank in the vegetable kingdom. in the days of king david and solomon, the noble cedars of lebanon held the pre-eminence, and were celebrated in verse as emblems of beauty, grandeur, and especially of durability; but "with the moderns the cedar is emblematical of sadness and mourning": "dark tree! still sad when others' grief is fled-- the only constant mourner of the dead."--byron. "perhaps the oldest tree on record is the cypress of somma, in lombardy. it is supposed to have been planted in the year of the birth of christ, and on that account is looked upon with reverence by the inhabitants; but an ancient chronicle at milan is said to prove that it was a tree in the time of julius cæsar, b.c. . it is one hundred and twenty-three feet high, and twenty-three feet in circumference at one foot from the ground. napoleon, when laying down the plan for his great road over the simplon, diverged from a straight line to avoid injuring this tree."[ ] [ ] mass. reports. "the cedar was styled the glory of lebanon. the temple of solomon and that of diana at ephesus were built of this wood. the number of these trees is now greatly diminished. they were often of vast size, sometimes girting thirty-six feet, perfectly sound, with a lofty height, whose spreading branches extended one hundred and ten feet." the durability of the cedar is said to be attributable to two qualities: " st, the bitterness of the wood, which protects it from the depredations of worms; and, dly, its resin, which preserves it from the injuries of the weather." to the _oak_ some assign the first rank. it is celebrated in the east, and by many of the ancients was regarded with _religious_ veneration. in the west, and by moderns, it is employed more as an emblem of the strength, compactness, and durability of the state. "the religious veneration paid to this tree by the original natives of britain, in the time of the druids, is well known to every reader of british history." the patriarch abraham resided under an oak, or a grove of oaks; and it is believed that he planted a grove of this tree. "in fact, since, in hot countries, nothing is more desirable than shade--nothing more refreshing than the shade of a tree--we may easily suppose the inhabitants would resort for such enjoyment to "where'er the oak's thick branches spread a deeper, darker shade." oaks, and groves of oaks, were esteemed proper places for religious services; so that while the methodist denomination may not claim originality in holding grove or camp-meetings, they may, at least, plead the usages of antiquity in their defense. altars were set up under them; affairs of state were discussed and ratified under their ample shade. "abimelech was made king under an oak." "absalom rode upon a mule which went under the thick boughs of a great oak, and his head caught hold of the oak, and he was taken up between the heaven and the earth," and, while there suspended, was slain by joab and his armor-bearers. "in england, whose oak forests are now one of the sources of national wealth and naval supremacy, the tree was once prized only for the acorns, which were the chief support of those large herds of swine whose flesh formed so considerable a part of the food of the saxons. woods of old, says burnett, were valued according to the number of hogs they could fatten; and so rigidly were the forest lands surveyed, that, in ancient records, such as the doomsday-book, woods are mentioned of a single hog. the right of feeding hogs in woods, called pannage, formed, some centuries ago, one of the most valuable kinds of property. with this right monasteries were endowed, and it often constituted the dowry of the daughters of the saxon kings."[ ] [ ] mass. reports, trees, &c. of the oak some naturalists have enumerated twenty-four species. the wood of the white oak is distinguished by three properties, which give to it its great value: hardness, toughness, and durability. the great variety of purposes to which it is appropriated shows it to be a tree of great value. for ship and carriage building, and in the manufacture of implements of husbandry, it is very valuable. this tree also holds rank on account of its size. in the "report on the trees and shrubs of massachusetts," notice is given of one still standing in brighton. "in october, , it measured twenty-five feet and nine inches in circumference at the surface. at three feet, it is twenty-two feet four inches; at six feet, fifteen feet two inches. it tapers gradually to the height of about twenty-five feet, where the stump of its ancient top is visible, below which point four or five branches are thrown out, which rise twenty or thirty feet higher. below, the places of many former limbs are covered over by immense gnarled and bossed protuberances. the trunk is hollow at the base, with a large opening on the southwest, through which boys and men may easily enter. it had probably passed its prime centuries before the first english voice was heard on the shores of massachusetts bay. it is still clad with abundant foliage, and, if respected as its venerable age deserves, it may stand an object of admiration for centuries to come." the charter oak, in hartford, connecticut, is said to measure at the ground thirty-six feet; and in the smallest place above it is eight feet four inches in diameter. the button-wood tree. this tree is "remarkable for the rapidity of its growth, especially when standing near water. loudon mentions one which, standing near a pond, had in twenty years attained the height of eighty feet, with a trunk eight feet in circumference at three feet from the ground, and a head of the diameter of forty-eight feet." "nowhere is this tree more vigorous than along the rivers of pennsylvania and virginia, and especially on the ohio and its tributaries." 'general washington measured a button-wood growing on an island in the ohio, and found its girth, at five feet from the ground, about forty feet.' "in , the younger michaux and his companions found a large tree of this kind on the right bank of the ohio, thirty-six miles from marietta. its base was swollen in an extraordinary manner, but, at four feet from the ground, its circumference was found to be forty-seven feet," or fifteen feet and eight inches in diameter. it is said that "it may be propagated with more ease than any tree of the forest." "it is valuable stove fuel." s. w. pomeroy, esq., a writer in the new england farmer, expresses the opinion that, on land possessing the same fertility, this tree will furnish fuel which will give the greatest amount of caloric to the acre, except the locust on dry soil. it will be remembered that in , ' , and ' , this tree appeared to be under the influence of a general blight throughout the eastern states. various opinions were entertained respecting the cause of the malady which occasioned so much regret. "by most persons it was considered the effect of frost, supposing the tree not to have matured its wood, viz., the new shoots, during the previous summer, so that it was incapable of resisting the effect of frost." others ascribed it to the action of some insect or worm, and others believed it to be some unaccountable disease, while others regarded the phenomenon as a providential token of the approach of some important event unknown and unanticipated. the tree has now pretty generally recovered from its malady. "the oriental plane-tree holds the same place on the eastern continent which our button-wood does on this." "it was the greatest favorite among the ancients." "cimon sought to gratify the athenians by planting a public walk with them." "it was considered the finest shade tree in europe." "pliny tells the story of its having been brought across the ionian sea, to shade the tomb of diomedes, in the island of the hero. from thence it was taken to sicily, then to italy; from italy to spain, and even into the most remote parts of the then barbarous france, where the natives were made to pay for the privilege of sitting under its shade. "no tree was ever so great a favorite with the romans. they ornamented their villas with it, valuing it above all other trees for the depth of its salutary shade, &c. they nourished it with pure wine; and hortensius is related to have begged of his rival, cicero, to exchange turns with him in a cause in which they were engaged, that he might himself do this office for a tree he had planted in his tusculanum." "pliny describes some of the most remarkable planes. in the walks of the academy at athens were trees whose trunks were about forty-eight feet from the ground to the branches. in his own time there was one in lycia, near a cool fountain by the road side, with a cavity of eighty-one feet circuit within its trunk, and a forest-like head, and arms like trees overshadowing broad fields. within this apartment, made by moss-covered stones, to resemble a grotto, licinius mucianus thought it a fact worthy of history, that he dined with nineteen companions, and slept there too, not regretting splendid marbles, pictures, and golden-fretted roofs, and missing only the sound of rain drops pattering on the leaves."[ ] [ ] emerson's reports. chapter ii. the elm.--english elm.--scotch elm.--slippery elm.--american elm. --superiority of latter.--different shapes, how accounted for.-- great elm on boston common.--rapidity of growth.--the riding stick.--remarkable dimensions of noted trees.--boston elm again.-- its age.--by whom set out.--washington elm, why so named.--"trees of peace," a tribute of respect.--english elm in england and america.--uses in france.--in russia.--birch family.--its variety and uses.--the maple family.--number of species.--red maple.--unrivaled beauty of american forests.--rock maple.--amount of wood cut from one in blandford.--curious method of distinguishing it from the river maple.--amount and value of the sugar in massachusetts.--great product from one tree.--sugar maple in the state of maine.--dr. jackson's reports, &c. the elm-tree. of this family there are several varieties. the american, the english, the scotch, and slippery elm. of this enumeration, the american elm stands first in point of ornament, while the timber of the english elm is esteemed more highly on account of the toughness of the wood. it has been well said that the elm is a tree deservedly esteemed for its ornament and shade. "the american elm assumes many different shapes, and all of them beautiful. of these, three are most striking and distinct. the tall etruscan vase is formed by four or five limbs separating at twenty or thirty feet from the ground, going up with a gradual divergency to sixty or seventy, and then bending rapidly outward, forming a flat top with a pendent border." "transplanting the elm, it is said, often produces in it a character akin to that of the oak. it is then a broad, round-headed tree." "of this kind is the 'great elm' on boston common." few trees of other species are to be found standing near the abodes of civilized life which have attained the vast dimensions of the elm. whatever may have been the peculiar properties of other trees, they have disappeared. upturned by the passing hurricane, or leveled by the woodman's ax, they have passed away, while the elm stands at our doors associated with the history and memory of the different generations which, like its autumnal sheddings, have long time ago mingled with the dust. the elm grows with great rapidity, which, in addition to its beauty as an ornament, secures for it the favor of man. "i once heard," says the author of massachusetts reports, &c., an old man, standing under the shade of a tree nearly two feet in diameter, which towered above all around it, say, "this tree, after i had been many years successful in business, and in a change of fortune had retired to this farm, with a little that remained, i stuck into the ground after i had used it as a stick in a ride of eight miles from p." "from its having been so long a favorite, it has been more frequently spared, and oftener transplanted than any other tree. there are, in all parts of the state, many fine old trees standing." "in springfield, in a field a few rods north of the hotel, is an elm which was twenty-five feet and nine inches in circumference at three feet from the ground." the great elm on boston common measures, at the same distance from the ground, seventeen feet eleven inches in circumference. "it is said to have been planted about the year , by captain daniel henchman, an ancestor of governor hancock. it is, therefore, more than one hundred and seventy-five years old." "there is an elm in hatfield, near the town-house, which measures at the ground forty-one feet; at three and one half feet from the ground it measures twenty-seven feet in circumference. the smallest place in the trunk is seven feet four inches in diameter. the top spreads over an area of one hundred and eight feet in diameter, making a circle of three hundred and twenty-four feet, covering a surface of over seven thousand five hundred square feet." "the washington elm, in cambridge--so called because beneath its shade, or near it, general washington is said to have first drawn his sword on taking the command of the american army--measured, in , fifteen feet two inches at one foot, thirteen feet two at three feet from the ground. the celebrated whitfield preached under the shade of this tree in ." "two elms were set out by the indians in front of the house of the rev. oliver peabody, who succeeded, in , to the venerable eliot, the indian apostle, in the same truly christian ministry, in natick," massachusetts. "this voluntary offering of the grateful savages they called trees of peace." there is an elm standing in front of mr. j. chickering's house, westford, massachusetts, which i recently measured eighteen inches from the ground. its circumference was twenty feet, and its _spurs_ were not prominent, as will be inferred from the fact that at four feet from the ground it measured eighteen feet in circumference. seven and a half feet from the ground it divides into two branches, each of itself a very large trunk, the largest of which would measure three feet and a half in diameter. seven or eight feet from the first division, at short intervals, the main branch, which grew on the west side next the house, divides into eight more branches, all nearly equal in size, and averaging a circumference of four and a half feet. about forty feet from the base of the tree these eight branches subdivide into twenty-one other branches, and so on indefinitely to the terminating twigs. the east main branch was divided into four principals, equal in size to the corresponding ones on the other side, and were subdivided also in the same manner as the one described. in height it is about seventy feet, vase-topped, with a pendent border. the extent of the spreading branches, northwest and southeast, was one hundred and five feet; those corresponding with the exact opposite points of the compass extended ninety-five feet, giving an area of three hundred feet in circumference. some of the pendent branches, which drooped within a few feet of the ground, i judged to be forty feet in length. these, stretched to a horizontal position, would give a breadth of one hundred and eighty feet to the top. various opinions obtain respecting the number of solid feet it contains, ranging from nine to eleven hundred. an old gentleman residing in the immediate vicinity, now eighty years old, told us that he could very well remember it when but a small tree, from which we infer its age to be about one hundred years. it appears to be perfectly sound, and now thrives as vigorously as a young sapling. it is a magnificent specimen of the vegetable kingdom, majestically imposing, awakening in the spectator a feeling of veneration in spite of himself. so ample is its wide-spreading etruscan-shaped top, that at fifty rods' distance (were the trunk hid) one might mistake it for a group of twenty good-sized trees. "the slippery elm has a strong resemblance to the common elm. it has less of the drooping appearance, and is commonly a much smaller tree." "the inner bark of this elm contains a great quantity of mucilage. flour prepared from the bark, by drying perfectly and grinding, and mixed with milk, like arrowroot, is a wholesome and nutritious food for infants and invalids." "dr. darlington says that, in the last war with great britain, the soldiers on the canada frontier found this, in times of scarcity of forage, a grateful and nutritious food for their horses." 'the english elm is said to have been introduced by importation, and planted by a wheel-wright for his own use in making hubs for wheels, for which purpose they are probably superior to any other wood known.' in its appearance it is said to have 'less grace than the american elm, but more stateliness and grandeur.' 'it is distinguished from the american elm, also, by the rough, broken character of its bark, which is darker, and also by having one principal stem, which soars upward to a great height, and the boldness and abruptness with which it throws out its branches. the leaves are of a darker color, smaller, and closer.' 'the largest dimensions given of the english elm on the continent is sixty feet high, and twenty feet in circumference at the ground, containing two hundred and sixty-eight feet of timber.' "the crawley elm stands in the village of crawley, on the high road from london to brighton. its trunk measures sixty-one feet in circumference at the ground, and thirty-five feet round the _inside_ at two feet from the base. this tree is not so large as would seem from this account, as it diminishes very rapidly upward." "the noblest and most beautiful english elms in this country are found in roxbury, the largest of which measures fifteen feet five inches five feet from the ground; it holds its size fully to the height of twenty or twenty-five feet, where it divides into three large branches, the main central one of which rises upward to a height much above one hundred feet." "as among the ancient romans, so in france at the present day, the leaves and shoots are used to feed cattle. in russia, the leaves of a species of the elm are used as a substitute for tea. the inner bark is in some places made into mats, and in norway they kiln-dry it, and grind it with corn as an ingredient in bread." the birch. of the birch family there are several varieties, called the black, yellow, red, canoe, the gray, and the dwarf. of these the yellow and canoe birches are the most interesting and useful. the general outlines of the yellow birch often resemble the elm, the root-spurs rise high up the trunk, protruding much beyond the regular circle of its shaft. it is very firmly rooted, capable of withstanding a violent blast. it attains to the height of seventy or eighty feet, and often measures from nine to ten feet in circumference three and four feet from the ground. its wood is very useful for cabinet purposes, and is excellent for fuel. the white or canoe birch is most remarkable for the beautiful thin sheets of bark which it affords, from which the indian canoe is constructed. it also makes excellent covering for a tent. in some parts of the northern regions it is said to attain a diameter of six or seven feet. the white birch possesses "in an eminent degree the lightness and airiness of the birch family, spreading out its glistening leaves on the ends of a very slender and often pencil spray, with an indescribable softness. so that coleridge might have called it as he did the corresponding european species, "most beautiful of forest trees--the lady of the woods." the maple-tree. this family is very numerous. "nearly forty species are known, of which ten belong to the united states." 'the climate of new england is peculiarly favorable to their growth, as is shown by the perfection to which several of the most valuable species attain.' the red maple is most remarkable for the varying color of its leaves, which greatly beautify forest scenery. the leaves begin to turn in the latter part of summer and during the earlier part of autumn, from green to a deep crimson or scarlet. the forests of no other country present so beautiful a variety of coloring as our own; 'even corresponding climates with the same families bear no comparison.' the difference is said to depend "on the greater transparency of our atmosphere, and consequently greater intensity of the light; for the same cause which renders a much larger number of stars visible by night, and which clothes our flowering plants with more numerous flowers, and those of deeper, richer tints, gives somewhat of tropical splendor to our really colder parallels of latitude." of the maple family we may briefly notice only one more, the rock maple, "which in all respects is the most remarkable tree of the family." while young, it is justly admired for its ornamental beauties as a shrub. when in a state of maturity, "for the purposes of art, no native wood possesses more beauty or a greater variety of appearance." "in the forest the rock maple often attains great height, and produces a large quantity of timber. a tree in blandford, which was four feet through at base and one hundred and eight feet high, yielded seven cords and a half of wood." it is said that the wood of this tree may be easily distinguished from the red, or the river maple, by pouring a few drops of sulphate of iron upon it. this wood turns greenish; that of the two former turns to a deep blue. "in massachusetts, between five and six hundred thousand pounds of sugar are annually made from the juice of the rock maple, valued at about eight cents a pound," yielding a revenue of about forty-four to fifty thousand dollars per annum. of the sap, "the average quantity to a tree is from twelve to twenty-four gallons each season. in some instances it is much greater. a tree in bernardstown, about six feet in diameter, favorably situated, produced in one instance a barrel of sap in twenty-four hours." "dr. rush cites an instance of twenty pounds and one ounce of sugar having been made within nine days, in , from a single tree in montgomery county, new york." in another instance, thirty-three pounds are said to have been produced from one tree in one season. a gentleman from leverett informs me that in one season he obtained from one tree one hundred and seventy-five gallons of sap, which, if of average strength, would have made forty-three pounds of sugar. the following remarks upon the sugar maple of maine, from the "third annual report" of dr. jackson's geological surveys in this state, will be read with interest, suggesting profitable hints to some. "the acer saccharinum, or sugar maple, is one of the most luxuriant and beautiful native forest trees in maine, and abounds wherever the soil is of good quality. its ascending sap is very rich in sugar, which is very readily obtained by means of a tap, bored with an augur half an inch in diameter, into the sap-wood of the tree, the sap being collected in the spring of the year, when it first begins to ascend, and before the foliage puts forth. it is customary to heap snow around the roots or stumps of the trees, to prevent their putting forth their leaves so soon as they otherwise would, for the juices of the tree begin to be elaborated as soon as the foliage is developed, and will not run. "after obtaining a quantity of maple sap, it is poured into large iron or tinned copper kettles, and boiled down to a thick sirup; and after ascertaining that it is sufficiently concentrated to crystallize or grain, it is thrown into casks or vats, and when the sugar has formed, the molasses is drained off through a plug-hole slightly obstructed by tow. but little art is used in clarifying the sirup, and the chemist would regard the operations as very rude and clumsy; yet a very pleasant sugar, with a slightly acid taste, is made, and the molasses is of excellent flavor, and is largely used during the summer for making sweetened water, which is a wholesome and delicious beverage. "the sugar frequently contains oxide of iron, which it dissolves from the rusty potash kettles in which it is commonly boiled down, and hence it turns tea black. a neat manufacturer will always take care to scour out his kettles with vinegar and sand, so that the sugar may be white. he will also take care not to burn the sirup by urging the fire toward the end of the operation. if his sirup is acid, a little clear lime-water will saturate it, and the lime will principally separate with the molasses or with the scum. the sirup should be skimmed carefully during the operation. it is not worth while, perhaps, to describe the process of refining sugar; but it is perfectly easy to make maple sugar as white as the best double-refined loaf-sugar of commerce. it would, however, lose its peculiar acid flavor, which now distinguishes it from ordinary cane sugar. "were it generally known how productive are the groves of sugar maples, we should, i doubt not, be more careful, and not exterminate them from the forest, as is now too frequently done. it is, however, difficult to spare any forest trees in clearing a farm by fire; but groves in which they abound might be spared from the unrelenting ax of the woodman. maple-trees may also be cultivated, and will become productive in twenty or thirty years; and it would certainly be one of our most beautiful pledges of regard for posterity to plant groups of maples in convenient situations upon our lands, and to line the road sides with them. i am sure that such a plan, if carried into effect, would please public _taste_ in more ways than one, and we might be in part disfranchised from dependence on the cane plantations of the west indies. "the following statistics will serve as an example of the products of the sugar maple in maine; and it will also be noted that the whole work of making maple sugar is completed in three or four weeks from the commencement of operations. lbs. sugar. at the forks of the kennebeck, twelve persons made , on no. , d range, one man and a boy made , in farmington, mr. titcomb made , in moscow, thirty families made , in bingham, twenty families made , in concord, thirty families made , ________ , "this, at twelve and a half cents a pound, would be worth $ , . "it must be also remarked, that the manufacture of maple sugar is carried on at a season of the year when there is little else to be done; and if properly-shaped evaporating vessels were used, a much larger quantity of sugar could be made in the season." chapter iii. beech-trees.--purity, size, fruit.--efforts of bears after the nut.--the uses to which its leaves are appropriated.--mr. lauder's testimony, &c.--use of wood.--singular exemption.--the novel appearance of the leaves of a species in germany.--chestnut-tree. --remarkable one on mount Ætna.--balm of gilead.--willow.--ash. --basswood, or tiel-tree.--the poplar.--the hemlock.--beauties of its foliage.--uses.--hickory.--the fir-tree.--spruce-tree.-- its conical form.--uses.--american larch.--success of the dukes of athol in planting it on the highlands of scotland. the beech is a tree of no ordinary interest; first, as being more free from impurities than any tree with which we are acquainted. the bark is very clean and smooth, of a light lead color, sprinkled with fine dots of black, so that it has a grayish appearance. it attains the height of sixty to eighty feet. the lower branches are thrown out in a horizontal attitude, while the upper ones assume somewhat of an erect position. the leaves are of graceful proportions, and profuse, forming a dense shade. some seasons this tree produces an abundance of nuts, which grow in round, prickly burrs, very similar to chestnuts. the nuts are triangular in shape, and supply the pigeon, partridge, squirrels, bears, and other animals with food. the squirrel will hoard up in his little burrow many quarts of these nuts, where he eats them at his leisure during the seasons of winter and spring. it is quite amusing to see the little fellows repeat their visits to their underground habitations, or leap from branch to branch, with their cheeks stuffed nearly to bursting with the precious beech-nut. the beech does not dispense its fruit until after severe frosts occur, when the burr either opens or drops from the limb where it grew; in the former case, after a smart frost at night, the early morning breeze shakes them from their elevated position, when they come rattling down upon the dry leaves like showers of hail. impelled by hunger, bears often climb and gather the nut before it is ripe. i have frequently seen, during my backwoods excursions, the topmost limbs broken off and pulled in toward the trunk of the tree, some of them three inches in diameter, until the whole of the top branches were furled in, forming a tufted circle fifty feet in air. burned and cracked, the beech-nut makes a very good substitute for coffee. "the leaves were formerly used in britain, and are to this day in some parts of europe, for filling beds." evelyn says that "its very leaves, which form a natural and most agreeable canopy all the summer, being gathered about the fall, and somewhat before they are much frost-bitten, afford the best and the easiest mattresses in the world to lay under our quilts instead of straw; because, besides their tenderness and loose lying together, they continue sweet for seven or eight years long; before which time straw becomes musty and hard. they are used by divers persons of quality in dauphine, and in switzerland i have sometimes lain on them to my very great refreshment. so as of this tree it may properly be said, "'the woods a house, the leaves a bed.'" "we can," says sir thomas dick lauder, "from our own experience, bear testimony to the truth of what evelyn says here as to the excellence of beech leaves for mattresses. we used always to think that the most luxurious and refreshing bed was that which prevails universally in italy, and which consists of an absolute pile of mattresses filled with the elastic spathe of the indian corn--which beds have the advantage of being soft as well as elastic--and we have always found the sleep enjoyed on them to be peculiarly sound and restorative. but the beds made of beech leaves are really not a whit behind them in these qualities, while the fragrant smell of green tea which the leaves retain is most gratifying." "the wood of the beech is preferred to all other wood for plane stocks, saw handles, and cylinders used in polishing glass. "botanists are unable to find more than one kind of beech, believing that the distinctions of '_white_' and '_red_' beech in common use among the people describes but one species. "the beech is said never to be struck by lightning. in traveling through a forest country, many trees of a different species, such as the oak, and, more commonly than any tree within my observation, the hemlock, may be seen riven by lightning, but never the beech. "a most remarkable species of the beech is said to have been discovered by accident in germany. in early spring, when the leaves of the purple beech are agitated by the wind, during bright sunshine, their clear red gives the tree the appearance of being on fire: an effect, bosc observes, so truly magical, that it is scarcely credible by those who have not seen it."--_loudon._ the chestnut-tree. this tree is distinguished by the rapidity of its growth and the excellence of its wood for posts and rails--the latter lasting half a century--the good quality of the nut it bears, and the age and size to which it attains. "some of the most remarkable trees of europe are chestnut-trees. on mount Ætna is the famous _castagno di cento cavalli_, so called from its having sheltered a hundred mounted cavaliers. brydon found this, in , two hundred and four feet in circumference, and it had the appearance of five distinct trees. a century before, when seen by kircher, they were united, so that probably it had been one tree. the forworth chestnut, in england, was fifty-two feet in girth in , when measured by strutt. near sanserre, in france, is a tree of more than ten feet in diameter at six feet from the ground. it is supposed to be a thousand years old." the largest measurements given of the chestnut in this country are of one in bolton, with an erect, undivided trunk forty or fifty feet; three feet from the ground it measured seventeen feet in circumference. "southeast of monument mountain, near the road leading to sheffield, in a pasture, an old chestnut measured, in september, , 'at the ground, thirty feet two inches in circumference; at four feet, twenty-one feet in circumference: the branches extended sixty feet.'" the balm of gilead, the willow, of which there are twenty-one species, the ash and basswood, the poplar and hemlock, all afford specimens of great magnitude, as well as possess properties of much value; to which list we may add the hickory, chiefly for the great variety of valuable purposes to which the wood is appropriated. "few trees contribute so much to the beauty of woods in autumn; the colors of all at that season are rich, and each species has its own. the fruit of some of the species in its wild state vies with the best of foreign nuts." the fir-tree. "in its native forests the fir-tree varies from two to ten feet in diameter, and from one hundred to one hundred and eighty feet in height. a stump is mentioned as still found on the columbia river, which measures forty-eight feet in circumference at three feet from the ground, exclusive of its very thick bark." the spruce-tree. this tree presents a tapering trunk, with a top of mathematical exactness, a regular cone. they attain to the height of seventy or one hundred feet, measuring at the base--the largest i have ever seen--about eight feet in circumference. lightness, strength, and elasticity are the distinguishing qualities of this wood; and, owing to this, it is extensively used in ship-building, and the frame-work of houses. the hemlock is a large tree, often measuring fifteen feet in circumference at the base; the column rises to an elevation of from seventy to one hundred feet; it holds its size remarkably until it reaches the principal limbs, two thirds its height, when it tapers rapidly to the extremity. its foliage is beautiful for its softness, and forms the principal ingredient in the bed of lumbermen. the use of the boughs for brooms is known to the good country people throughout new england. by persons of classical taste, it is considered the most beautiful of the evergreens. the author of massachusetts reports on trees, &c., to whom i am much indebted for many of the preceding observations, remarks of the young hemlock, "that in the beginning of summer each twig is terminated with a tuft of yellowish-green, recent leaves, surmounting the darker green of the former year; the effect, as an object of beauty, is equaled by very few flowering shrubs, and far surpasses that produced by any other tree." the bark is valuable in tanning leather, and makes excellent fuel. this tree grows in immense quantities in the northeast part of maine, often occupying acres of ground, to the exclusion of nearly all other trees. its wood is more valued for boards than formerly; its close grain and hardness fit it peculiarly for flooring. "it is much used in the large atlantic cities as a substitute for stone in the pavement of streets, for which purpose it is sawn into hexagonal (six-sided) blocks of eight inches in thickness, and eight, ten, or eighteen inches in breadth." "the american _larch_, known very generally in new england by the aboriginal name of hackmatack, is sometimes known to attain an elevation of seventy feet, but does not usually exceed forty or fifty feet." it has crowded tufts of leaves, not unlike those of the spruce or pine, much shorter than those of the latter, and more slender and graceful than those of the former, and of lighter green, so disposed on the ends of the branches as to make the foliage of the tree the lightest of all the forest trees, especially when compared with the great strength of the tree itself. "late in autumn they turn to a soft, leather-yellow color, and in the first days of november fall." "it has a straight, erect, rapidly-tapering trunk, clothed with a bluish-gray bark, rather rough, with small roundish scales." the branches are numerous, and most firmly attached to the stem, shooting out at apparently measured distances from each other, generally in a horizontal position, which makes its ascent quite as convenient as a ladder; and, as it grows mostly on open or meadow land, it is often climbed by timber-hunters, affording a good prospect of the forest on the opposite side of the meadow or intervales. the wood of the hackmatack is distinguished by the following qualities: "close-grained, compact, of reddish color, remarkable for its great weight, strength, and durability," the latter even being greater than the oak. "on these accounts it is preferred before all other woods for knees, beams, and top timbers in ship-building." the larch is extensively cultivated in europe, particularly in scotland. though in america it is most generally found in low meadow land, where is depth of soil and plenty of moisture, it has nevertheless "the property of flourishing on surfaces almost without soil, thickly strewn with fragments of rocks, on the high, bleak sides and tops of hills, where vegetation scarcely exists." the following account of the experiments made by the dukes of athol, on the highlands of scotland, is so encouraging and deeply interesting, that, although long, i insert it, hoping the example may be followed in appropriate positions in this country: "the estates of the dukes of athol are in the north of scotland, in the latitude of nearly ° north. between and , james, duke of athol, planted more than twelve hundred larch-trees in various situations and elevations, for the purpose of trying a species of tree then new in scotland. in he planted seven hundred larches over a space of twenty-nine scotch acres, intermixed with other kinds of forest trees, with the view of trying the value of the larch as a timber tree. this plantation extended up the face of a hill from two hundred to four hundred feet above the level of the sea. the rocky ground of which it was composed was covered with loose and crumbling masses of mica slate, and was not worth above £ a year altogether. before he died, in , he was satisfied of the superiority of the larch as a timber over other firs, even in trees only eighteen or nineteen years old. his successor, john, duke of athol, first conceived the idea of planting larch by itself as a forest tree, and of planting the sides of the hills about dunkeld. he planted three acres with larches alone, at an elevation of five or six hundred feet above the level of the sea, on a soil not worth a shilling an acre. he also planted over four hundred acres on the sides of hills before his death, in . his son, duke john, continuing the execution of his father's plans, had planted in , trees. observing the rapid growth and hardy nature of the larch, he determined to cover with it the steep acclivities of mountains of greater altitude than any that had yet been tried. he therefore inclosed a space of twenty-nine acres on the rigid summit of craig-y-barns, and planted a strip entirely with larches among the crevices and hollows of the rocks, where the least soil could be found. at this elevation none of the larger kinds of natural plants grew, so that the grounds required no previous preparation of clearing. this plantation was formed in and . between that year and he planted six hundred and eighty acres with , larches, the greater part only sprinkled over the surface, on account of the difficulty of procuring a sufficient number of plants. besides a plantation of seventy acres for the purpose of embellishment, he had, in , extended his plantations of larches over an additional space of eight hundred acres, six hundred of which were planted entirely, though thinly, with larch. these took , plants. "observing, with satisfaction and admiration, the luxuriant growth of the larch in all situations, and its hardihood even in the most exposed regions, the duke resolved on pushing entire larch plantations still further to the summit of the highest hills. "he therefore determined to cover with larch sixteen hundred scotch acres, situated from nine hundred to twelve hundred feet above the level of the sea. its soil, presenting the most barren aspect, was strewed over thickly with fragments of rock, and vegetation of any kind scarcely existed upon it. 'to endeavor to grow ship-timber," writes the duke, "among rocks and shivered fragments of schist, such as i have described, would have appeared to a stranger extreme folly, and money thrown away; but, in the year , i had for more than twenty-five years so watched and admired the hardihood and the strong vegetative powers of the larch, in many situations as barren and as rugged as any part of this range, though not so elevated, as quite satisfied me that i ought, having so fair an opportunity, to seize it.' "having now no doubt whatever of the successful growth of the larch in very elevated situations, the duke still further pursued his object of covering _all_ his mountainous regions with that valuable wood. accordingly, a space to the northward of the one last described, containing two thousand nine hundred and fifty-nine scotch acres, was immediately inclosed, and planted entirely with larch. "this tract, lying generally above the region of broom, furze, juniper, and long heath, required no artificial clearing. an improved mode of planting was employed here, that of using young plants only, two or three years' seedlings, put into the ground by means of an instrument invented by the duke instead of the common spade. "in , the growth of the larch in this last tract, called _loch ordie forest_, having greatly exceeded the sanguine hopes and expectations of the duke, he determined on adding to it an extensive adjoining tract, consisting of two thousand two hundred and thirty-one scotch acres, denominated loch hoishnie. the preparations of fencing, clearing (where that was necessary), making roads, and procuring plants from different nurserymen, occupied the time till october, , when the planting commenced, and was carried on in such good earnest that the whole was finished by december, . "the planting of this forest appears to have terminated the labors of the duke in planting. he and his predecessors had planted more than fourteen millions of larch plants, occupying over ten thousand english acres. it has been estimated that the whole forest on mountain ground, planted entirely with larch, about six thousand five hundred scotch acres, will, in seventy-two years from the time of planting, be a forest of timber fit for building the largest ships. before being cut down for this purpose, it will have been thinned to about four hundred trees to an acre. supposing each tree to yield fifty cubic feet of timber, its value, at a shilling a foot (one half the present value), will give £ , an acre, or, in all, a sum of £ , , sterling."[ ] [ ] reports on trees and shrubs of massachusetts. the pine-tree, or forest life. part ii. chapter i. the pines.--white pines: rank claimed for this variety.-- predilections.--comparison instituted.--pitch and norway pines. --white pine.--magnitude.--new york pines.--lambert's pine on northwest coast.--varieties.--its rank.--great variety of purposes to which it is devoted.--great pine near jackson lake.--capital invested.--hands employed on the penobscot. after the foregoing brief notice of some of the most interesting trees, we come at length to consider that species which constitutes the theme of the following pages. the pine has been appropriately called the monarch of the forest. taken all in all, it is the crowning master-piece of all woody plants. this avowal is made in full view of what has been said respecting other specimens of the vegetable kingdom. from early education, we are accustomed to regard some things as before others in point of merit, whether truth in the case would support our notions or not. for trees we have our preferences. there is much of interest in every development of nature--much to admire, especially in the grandeur, the picturesque beauty, and sublimity of large forest trees. these things are so clearly defined in the mind of the botanist--so many excellencies does he discover in each genus, and every species of the respective families, that each succeeding description seems to place the last before every preceding one. mankind, pretty generally, are disposed to place the oak at the head of the vegetable kingdom, and it is crowned monarch of the forest. i was reared among the noble pines of maine, nestled in my cradle beneath their giant forms, and often has the sighing wind made music that has calmed me to repose as it gently played through their tasseled boughs. often have i been filled with awe as i gazed upon their massive trunks and raised my eye to their cloud-swept tops. when a child, even, i could never read the following eulogy on the oak without a fit of jealousy: "the oak for grandeur, strength, and noble size excels all trees which in the forest grow." of the truth of this sentiment i could never feel persuaded; in fact, in only one particular is this true. in strength the oak excels, but in towering grandeur and massive diameter the pine far exceeds the oak, and indeed all other north american trees. properly there are but three species of the pine. . the white pine. . pitch pine. . the norway, or red pine, as it is sometimes called.[ ] the red pine is remarkable for its tall trunk; it sometimes rises eighty feet before it puts out a limb. i recollect cutting one on the mattawamkeag river, which disembogues into the penobscot, eighty-two feet before reaching a limb. they are sometimes found one hundred feet in height and four feet in diameter. [ ] "with very few exceptions, the pines are monoecious (having the male and female flowers on the same tree). the yellow pollen, which is very abundant, often falls in such quantities upon the branches and leaves below, and upon the neighboring plants, as to cover them; and being as light and fine as dust, it has been sometimes carried by the wind from a forest of pines and spread upon the ground at a great distance. this affords a probable explanation of the stories which have been told, and which have been regarded with superstition or incredulity, of showers of sulphur." lambert, describing the common scotch fir, says, "the pollen is sometimes in spring carried away by the wind in such quantities as to alarm the ignorant with the notion of its raining brimstone." the pitch pine is inferior to the red in size. the largest measurements i have ever seen give to one a diameter of two and a half feet, and ninety feet height; to another a girth of seven feet at the ground, and eighty feet height. this pine is chiefly valued for the excellence of its fuel; and for generating steam in working engines it is preferable to any other wood.[ ] formerly, in some parts of the country, it was found much larger than it now is. "men are living in massachusetts and maine who remember that it was not uncommon to find them of more than a hundred feet in height and four or five feet in diameter." [ ] the amount of this wood annually consumed on the rail-roads in massachusetts is valued at $ , . at present the white pine is altogether the most important of the species. in new england, particularly in the northern part, it is often found to measure one hundred and fifty feet in height. it is said that not many years since pines were found in the eastern part of new york which measured two hundred and forty feet in height. "lambert's pine, on the northwest coast, is found growing to the height of two hundred and thirty feet, and douglas's pine, in the same region, the loftiest tree known, has been said to exceed three hundred feet." the traveler quoted above describes one of the following dimensions: "one specimen, which had been blown down by the wind--and this was certainly not the largest which i saw--was of the following dimensions: its entire length was two hundred and fifteen feet; its circumference, three feet from the ground, was fifty-seven feet nine inches (nineteen feet three inches in diameter); and at one hundred and thirty-four feet from the ground it was seventeen feet five inches" in circumference, or about six feet in diameter.[ ] [ ] since writing the above, the following account has come to hand: "the bald cypress of oaxana (_taxodium distichum_) and the famous chestnut of Ætna have been often cited as the giants of the vegetable kingdom. but these sovereigns are dethroned, and put into the second rank by those lately discovered in tasmania, which leave far behind them those antique monuments of nature. last week i went to see the two largest trees existing in the world. both of them are on the border of a small stream tributary to the river of northwest bay, in the rear of mount wellington. they are of the species named there swamp gum; i and my companions (five of us) measured them. one of them had fallen; we therefore easily obtained its dimensions. we found its body two hundred and twenty feet from the ground to the first branch. the top had broken off and partly decayed, but we ascertained the entire height of the tree to have been certainly three hundred feet. we found the diameter of the base of it to be thirty feet, and at the first branch twelve feet. its weight we estimated to be four hundred and forty tons. the other tree, now growing without the least sign of decay, resembles an immense tower rising among the humble sassafras-trees, although very large in fact. the gum-tree at three feet above the ground measured one hundred and two feet in circumference. in the space of a square mile, i think there were not less than one hundred of these trees, none less than forty feet in circumference. it must require several thousand years to produce the largest one."--_revue horticole._ in doctor dwight's travels we have an account of a tree in lancaster, new hampshire, which measured two hundred and sixty-four feet in length. "fifty years ago, several trees growing on rather dry land in blandford, measured, after they were felled, more than thirteen rods and a half, or two hundred and twenty-three feet in length." i have worked in the forests among this timber several years, have cut many hundreds of trees, and seen many thousands, but have never found one larger than the one i felled on a little stream which emptied into jackson lake, near the head of baskahegan stream, in the eastern part of maine. this was a "pumpkin" pine; its trunk was as straight and handsomely grown as a molded candle, and measured six feet in diameter four feet from the ground, without the aid of spur roots. it was about nine rods in length, or one hundred and forty-four feet, about sixty-five feet of which was free of limbs, and retained its diameter remarkably well. i was employed about one hour and a quarter in felling it. the afternoon was beautiful; every thing was calm, and to me the circumstances were deeply interesting. after chopping an hour or so, the mighty giant, the growth of centuries, which had withstood the hurricane, and raised itself in peerless majesty above all around, began to tremble under the strokes of a mere insect, as i might appear in comparison with it. my heart palpitated as i occasionally raised my eye to its pinnacle to catch the first indications of its fall. it came down at length with a crash which seemed to shake a hundred acres, while the loud echo rang through the forest, dying away among the distant hills. it had a hollow in the butt about the size of a barrel, and the surface of the stump was sufficiently capacious to allow a yoke of oxen to stand upon it. it made five logs, and loaded a six-ox team three times. the butt log was so large that the stream did not float it in the spring, and when the drive was taken down we were obliged to leave it behind, much to our regret and loss. at the boom that log would have been worth fifty dollars. of the white pine there are varieties, which by some are attributed to peculiar characteristics of the various locations in which they grow. that variety called sapling pine, bull sapling, &c., usually grows on high, hard-wood land, or a mixture of evergreens and deciduous trees; particularly on the boundaries which mark damp, low forests and the lower border of ridges. the pumpkin pine is generally found on flat land and in ravines; also on abrupt ridges, called horsebacks, where the forest is dense. the sap or outside of the sapling pine is much thicker than that of the pumpkin pine. i have seen it more than six inches thick on the former, and less than half an inch on the latter. this difference is accounted for by the rapidity with which the sapling grows, and the tardiness with which the swamp pine matures, which, as before intimated, is to be attributed to the difference in their location. of course, we must yield to the opinions of learned botanists; but while they maintain that these two are simply varieties of the same species, the proof seems insufficient to convince many whose daily occupation renders them most familiar with forest trees. if the difference is only attributable to soil and position, then we may reply that we have found the sapling in all possible locations. besides, there are marked distinctions. the general contour differs much. the size, number, and position of the branches, the shape of the trunk, the toughness of the wood in the sapling, and the softness of that of the pumpkin pine, all indicate a specific and essential difference. we have seen whole groves of saplings on low, swampy land. the same number of saplings are generally much sounder than an equal number of soft pine. the soft pine-tree holds its diameter to a much greater length than the sapling. i have seen a log of the former twenty feet long, differing not more than an inch and a half in diameter at either end. in a sapling log of the same length there would be a difference of several inches. there is one circumstance in the habits of this pine worthy of note. as a general thing, they grow in clusters or communities. indeed, this is a common characteristic of the hemlock, the cedar, and the hackmatack. but there is, however, a sort of nationality in the local attitude of the latter. while the pines, growing in clusters, seem to constitute the aristocracy--families of nobility--the rest of the forest seems to make up the populace; and i may add, that backwoodsmen are accustomed to pay them the same deferential regard above other gentlemen foresters which is awarded to superiors in human society. indeed, the pine has claims upon our regard, not only on account of its unequaled dimensions, but "from the importance of its products in naval, and especially in civil and domestic architecture, in many of the arts, and in some instances in medicine." "as it affords timber and boards of a greater size than any other soft-wooded tree, and is lighter and more free from knots, it is used in preference for the masts of ships, for the large beams, posts, and covering of wooden buildings, and for the frame-work of houses and bridges, as well as for clap-boards and shingles. the clearness, softness, and beauty of this wood recommend it for the panels and frames of doors, for wainscotings, for the frames of windows, for cornices and moldings, and for all the uses of the joiner. as it receives paint perfectly, it is employed for floors which are to be painted. varnished without paint, it gradually takes a yellowish or light reddish color, and has considerable beauty. it is excellent for the carver in wood, and is used for the figure-heads of vessels; and as it takes gilding well, it is preferred for the frames of looking-glasses and pictures." its importance may be estimated, also, from the vast amount of employment it furnishes and the revenue it produces. its history is full of interest from the hour it leaves the stump in the forest, through the various processes it passes until taken from the hold of the ship and piled away upon our market piers. the amount of employment it furnishes to lumbermen, mill-men, rafters, coasters, truckmen, merchants, and mechanics, exceeds that furnished by any other single product in maine or the province of new brunswick. on the penobscot alone there are said to be ten thousand men engaged in lumbering. chapter ii. the pine twenty-five years ago.--its rapid disappearance.--explorations. --outfit.--up-river journeying.--its distance.--mode of nightly encampment.--cooking.--disturbed slumbers.--ludicrous fright.--deer. --encounter with bears.--mode of exploring.--forest observatory.-- climbing trees.--the emotions excited by the view.--necessity of compass.--nature's compass.--the return.--annoyances from mischievous bears.--stumpage.--permits.--outfit and return.--crossing carrying-places.--a strong man.--skill of boatmen.--item of personal experience.--blind path.--a family in the wilderness.--things to be considered in locating camps. allusion has been made to the peculiarity of the pine-tree in associating together in clusters or families. it is now a rare thing to find a sufficient quantity of timber in one of those clusters to meet the demands of a team during the usual period of hauling, which is about three months. twenty-five or thirty years ago, large tracts of country were covered principally with pine-trees. those tracks seemed purposely located in the vicinity of lakes, large streams, and rivers; a winter's work could then be made contiguous to improved portions of the country, which rendered little previous exploration necessary. but the woodman's ax, together with the destructive fires which have swept over large districts from time to time, have, so to speak, driven this tree far back into the interior wilderness. in fact, the pine seems doomed, by the avarice and enterprise of the white man, gradually to disappear from the borders of civilization, as have the aborigines of this country before the onward march of the saxon race. the diminished size and number of these pine communities, near the borders of civil and agricultural abodes, added to the fact that this tree has been pursued to wild and unknown forest regions, renders exploring expeditions previous to the commencement of a winter's campaign absolutely indispensable, at least to insure success. this labor is performed, more or less, at all periods of the year; but, perhaps, the more general and appropriate time is found to be during the earlier part of autumn. the work of exploring is often performed during the winter, while the crews are on the ground, in camp. the difficulty of traveling through deep snows is overcome by the use of the snow-shoe, which enables the wearer to walk upon the surface of the untrodden snow. this shoe is about three feet long by sixteen inches wide, oval before and tapering to a point behind. it is simply a flat net-work, made from thongs of green hide, surrounded by a slender frame or bow of wood. this net-work is fastened, near the middle, to the bottom of the boot, and the woodman, throwing himself along, one side at a time, with a lengthened pace-like stride, passes over the ground at a rapid rate. when the business of timber-hunting is deferred until autumn, the following method is practiced: two or three men accustomed to the business take the necessary provisions, which usually consists of ship-bread, salt pork, tea, sugar, or molasses; for cooking utensils, a coffee-pot or light tea-kettle, a tin dipper, sometimes a frying-pan, a woolen blanket or two for bed-clothes, and an ax, with gun and ammunition; all of which are put on board a _skiff_, if the exploration is to be on the st. croix, or on a _bateau_ if on the penobscot river, with two sets of propellers, setting-poles for rapids, and paddles to be used on dead water. with these slight preparations, away we start; now making our way up the main river, then shooting along up the less capacious branches; sometimes performing a journey of two hundred miles far into the interior, in those solitudes which never before, perhaps, echoed with the tones of the white man's voice. the location for our nightly encampments are selected in time to make the necessary arrangements for refreshment and repose, before the darkness shuts down over the dense wilderness that surrounds us. selecting a proper site near some gushing spring, or where a murmuring streamlet plays along its romantic little channel, we pitch our tent, which formerly consisted of a slender frame of little poles, slightly covered on the top and at each end with long boughs, the front entirely open, before which burns the watch-fire, by whose light the deep darkness of a forest night is rendered more solemn and palpable. in some instances a large blanket is spread over the frame; and when there are good reasons to expect rain, we haul our boat up, turn it bottom side up, and crawl beneath it, this proving a sure protection from the falling rain or dew. of late, small portable tent-coverings are used, which prove very convenient. next the evening meal is prepared. here the tea is thoroughly boiled, in the coffee-pot or tea-kettle, over the little fire. a thin slice of salt pork is cut, and, running a sharp stick through it, it is held over the fire and roasted, being withdrawn occasionally to catch the drippings on a cake of pilot or ship bread. this is a good substitute for buttered toast, the roasted pork making an excellent rasher. sometimes we ate the pork raw, dipping it in molasses, which some relish; and though the recital may cause, in delicate and pampered stomachs, some qualms, yet we can assure the uninitiated that, from these gross simples, the hungry woodsman makes many a delicious meal. after _pipe_ devotions (for little else ascends from forest altars, though we have sometimes heard the voice of prayer even in the logging swamps), we throw our weary limbs upon our boughy couches to seek repose in the slumbers of night. sometimes our slumbers are disturbed by the shrill whooping of the owl, whose residence is chosen in those lonely solitudes of dense woodlands, where this ghostly watchman of the night makes the wild wood reverberate with the echo of his whoo-ho-ho-whah-whoo! which is enough, as one has observed, to frighten a garrison of soldiers. few sounds, i am certain, so really harmless in themselves, awaken such a thrill of terror, as it breaks suddenly upon the ear during the stillness and loneliness of the midnight hour. as i lay one night encamped upon the banks of a small stream which contributed its mite to the accumulating waters of the penobscot river, an opportunity presented itself of testing the strength of my nerves. it was during the midnight hour, when even the trees seemed to sleep profoundly. not a zephyr moved a twig, and the silence which reigned was painful. rendered somewhat restless from the combined circumstances of the previous day's labor and a hard bed, i lay musing upon an account which i had formerly read of a midnight attack upon a company of militia, during the sanguinary struggles of the revolution, by a party of savages. in the midst of my revery, i fancied that i could almost hear the stealthy footsteps of the wily indian, when a sudden scream from a tree-top, nearly over the spot where i lay, brought me upon my feet at a bound. seizing my gun, i looked aloft to see if i could discover the author of my sudden fright. by the light of the fire which still burned in the front of the tent, i discovered a pair of large eyes, resembling those of a cat. in an instant the woods echoed with the sharp report of my gun, when down came his owlship with a summerset to the ground. i have often listened to the quaint old figure, "i was not brought up in the woods to be scared by an owl," yet i think few can listen to the whooping of this solitary bird in the solemnity and stillness of midnight without being conscious of their susceptibility to emotions of fear, even though the judgment is assured of the absence of all that could harm. sometimes the tramping of timid deer, attracted by the waning light of our watch-fire, or some roving beast of prey, attracted by the savory vapors of our evening meal, startle us from our slumbers. "once, while on a timber-hunting excursion," said a mess-mate, "on the east branch of the penobscot, the night being very mild, and feeling too much fatigued to make the usual preparations for security, we built our fire near the trunk of a large prostrate tree. when we laid down our heads were near the fallen tree, which protected us somewhat from the current of air, but we were without covering, except the spreading branches of the trees. we had not lain long before we heard a heavy tramping some little way off. it approached nearer and nearer, until the animal seemed directly upon us. "as i lay upon my back, i turned my eyes upward, when they met the full gaze of a large bear, which stood with its fore paws on the log directly over my head. in an instant i sprang upon my feet, and, seizing a brand from the fire, i hurled it after him, at the same instant making the woods tremble with the echo of my voice. "alarmed at my sudden motions, and more than all at the fiery messenger, which emitted thousands of sparks as it whizzed along after him, glancing from tree to tree in its course, at each concussion emitting new volleys of fiery particles, without stopping to apologize for his intrusion upon our sleeping apartment, he plunged into the forest at full speed. by the rustling of dry leaves and the cracking of fallen limbs, we could hear him a long way off, with unabated energy fleeing from the object of his terror. next morning we came across an old she-bear and her cubs. we had a spirited little dog with us, who instantly encountered the bear; but one blow from her paw completely disabled him, and his injuries proved so serious that we were obliged to kill the little fellow, much to our regret, for, of all places in the world, the companionship of a good dog is most valued in the woods. one of our men caught a cub; it struggled and whined, which soon attracted the attention of the old one. she at once rushed after him, and he was soon glad to drop his prize, but not until the old dam had nearly torn his clothes from his back. [illustration: shooting deer.] [illustration: black bear.] "arriving at length upon or near the territory to be explored, we haul our bateau safely on shore, and turn it bottom upward. then, dividing our luggage into parcels, and making use of our blankets for knapsacks, we begin to traverse the wild forests, unfrequented except by the stately moose, the timid deer, the roaming black bear, and other wild animals of less note, whom we frequently disturb in their solitary haunts. "the uneven surface of the country, together with the density of the forest, circumscribe the range of vision. to overcome this impediment, we ascend into the top of some lofty tree. sometimes extensive views of the surrounding forest are obtained from the side of abrupt ridges, and from the top of a _horseback_. this latter is an "extremely curious ridge, and consists of sand and gravel, built up exactly like the embankments for rail-roads, the slope on either side being about °, while it rises above the surrounding low lands" from thirty to ninety feet. dr. jackson speaks of one in particular, between weston and houlton, in the northeastern part of maine, "the top of which is perfectly level, and wide enough for two carriages to pass abreast." "its surface was originally covered with maple, birch, and hard pine-trees, while the low lands on either side are covered with a dense growth of cedars. i could not help thinking, as i looked upon this natural embankment, that it would be easy for an antiquarian to mistake this ridge for a work of art, and to suppose that some of the aboriginal inhabitants of our country knew how to annihilate distance by rail-roads. my first impression respecting the geological origin of this embankment was that it was alluvial, and formed the bank on intervening shores of two lakes which existed in the low tracts, now covered with cedars; but, on examining the nature of the materials of which it is composed, i became satisfied that it belonged to the formation of transported clay, sand, gravel, and bowlders, which is called diluvium, consisting of the loose fragments of rocks that were transported by a mighty current of water the last time the waters prevailed over the land. the occurrence of similar embankments at houlton served to confirm this opinion, for there they had the same north and south direction, a coincidence so remarkable that it could not be the result of chance. the horsebacks of new limerick and houlton are much more elevated" (as indeed they are on the banks or a little removed from the shores of the mattawamkeag river), "and some of them are said to rise to the height of ninety feet." "i can not stop to speculate on the causes of this transportation of loose materials, but i may say that there are abundant proofs, on the whole face of this continent, that there has been a mighty rush of waters over its surface from the north and northwest, and that such a current has swept over the highest mountains of massachusetts." when it is necessary to obtain views from low lands, the obstructions are overcome by ascending the highest trees. when an ascent is to be made, the spruce-tree is generally selected, principally for the superior facilities which its numerous limbs afford the climber. to gain the first limbs of this tree, which are from twenty to forty feet from the ground, a smaller tree is undercut and lodged against it, clambering up which the top of the spruce is reached. in some cases, when a very elevated position is desired, the spruce-tree is lodged against the trunk of some lofty pine, up which we ascend to a height twice that of the surrounding forest. from such a tree-top, like a mariner at the mast-head upon the "look-out" for whales (for indeed the pine is the whale of the forest), large "clumps" and "veins" of pine are discovered, whose towering tops may be seen for miles around. such views fill the bosom of timber-hunters with an _intense interest_. they are the object of his search, his treasure, his _el dorado_, and they are beheld with peculiar and thrilling emotions. to detail the process more minutely, we should observe that the man in the tree-top points out the direction in which the pines are seen; or, if hid from the view of those below by the surrounding foliage, he breaks a small limb, and throws it in the direction in which they appear, while a man at the base marks the direction indicated by the falling limb by a compass which he holds in his hand, the compass being quite as necessary in the wilderness as on the pathless ocean. in fair weather the sun serves as an important guide; and in cloudy weather the close observation of an experienced woodsman will enable him to steer a tolerably correct course by the moss which grows on the trunks of most hard-wood trees, the north side of which are covered with a much larger share than the other portions of the trunk. this indian compass, however, is not very convenient nor safe, particularly in passing through swampy lands, which are of frequent occurrence. after spending several days in scouring the wilderness in search of the pines, minutely examining their quality (for an experienced lumberman can determine this with surprising certainty), calculating the distance the logs may have to be hauled, and noting the surface of the land through which the logging roads are to be cut, &c., we retrace our steps to the landing, where the bateau has been left. once more our frail bark floats upon the dancing current of the stream, gliding onward as if stimulated with the very joyousness of the "homeward bound" voyagers. after several days' exploration on foot, the boat ride is particularly welcome. in the realization of this, however, we are sometimes sadly, even provokingly disappointed. it is known to those versed in the habits of the black bear, that late in the fall of the year they manifest an uncommon fondness for pitch or resinous substances. in the course of my travels through the forest, i have often seen fir-trees which contained large quantities of balsam, with their bark entirely stripped from the trunk by these craving depredators. under the impulses of this peculiar appetite, they sometimes tear even our bateau to pieces for the tar with which it is besmeared. if injured beyond the means of repair, we are compelled to pursue our journey down on foot. perchance we may fortunately meet some indian trapper with his frail canoe, which we charter for a portion of the journey, until another boat, or means of conveyance, can be secured. were any of my readers ever on board the indian's bark canoe? some, doubtless, have been, and such will bear me out in the declaration that the voyager experiences emotions peculiarly agreeable. as a conveyance, it seems to occupy a space between riding and flying; not in respect to its speed, although this is considerable when the paddle is vigorously applied, but its fairy-like buoyancy quite dissipates the idea of one's gravity. having determined, during the exploration, upon the territory from which we wish to cut and haul our logs, we proceed to obtain permits from the state or proprietors, which secure the exclusive right to cut timber within the bounds of the grant for a stipulated price; so much per thousand feet, board-measure, which varies from one to eight dollars _per m._, according to the quality of the timber and its convenient location to the lake, river, or stream upon which it is to be floated to market. among other preliminaries which anticipate the winter operations of lumbermen is the "putting up" of large quantities of meadow hay. skirting the stagnant sections of rivers and streams, extensive strips of meadow land spread back to the border of "uplands," whose outlines are distinctly defined by immense forests which hem in these large areas, sometimes embracing many thousands of acres. this intervale is covered with a heavy growth of meadow grass. by this remarkable arrangement, nature has anticipated, as it would appear, the wants of lumbermen in locating, and in preserving from the encroachments of the forest, a plentiful supply of subsistence for the teams employed in procuring lumber in its immediate vicinity, and far from the haunts of civilized man. to these wild and solemn retreats, where the dismal hooting of the night-owl breaks upon the ear, and the sighing winds, as they pass through the tall, waving grass, waft the distant howl of the wolf, large crews of men resort, with the usual haying implements, provisions, &c., for making and stacking the hay to be used during the ensuing winter. in the latter part of autumn these meadows are covered with water, which finally freezes. it is therefore necessary to erect temporary scaffolds, called more generally "staddles," upon which the hay is to be piled in large stacks. these staddles are made of poles laid upon cross-stakes or crutches, sufficiently high to protect the hay from the water beneath. from these the hay is removed, sometimes in boats before the waters freeze, and afterward upon sleds on the ice. when the former method of transportation is adopted, two bateaus or skiffs are placed side by side, small poles being thrown across them; the hay is then loaded on this platform, and carried to the most convenient landing, where it is reloaded and hauled on ox-sleds to the camp. if the hay is removed upon the ice, the stacks are hauled away whole. the mode of loading is simple; the central part of the scaffolding is cut away, the sled shoved underneath, when the remaining props are cut away, and the whole stack settles on to the sled, and is thus moved off to the place of destination. this expeditious method of loading is particularly convenient and desirable, as may be imagined when one takes into consideration the biting winter winds which sweep across these wide meadow fields. since agricultural interests have invited men far into the interior in the vicinity of lumber berths, where large tracts of land have been cleared up, less value is attached to, and less use made of meadow hay than formerly, as english grass becomes more plenty, is more available, and is much better in its quality. a distinguishing characteristic of this kind of business is the unceasing encounter by our lumbermen with the blood-thirsty millions of flies who swarm and triumph over these sanguinary fields. in the use of fire-arms these unvanquishable hosts are not skilled, to be sure, but in a charge they are invincible. no amount of slaughter will intimidate them. though the sweeping hand of destruction annihilates them by thousands, still, with full ranks, the contest is carried on with unabated vigor, a respite only being afforded in rainy weather, or when high winds prevail; then they retire from the field. at night the musquito lancers take up the action--the indian tribes of the insect species--and all night they keep up their ceaseless war-whoop, as they repeat their sallies upon the weary, disturbed sleeper. no coat of mail is proof against the attacks of one species of fly commonly called the midget, which is so small as to be almost imperceptible to the naked eye. the black fly and the musquito can only reach the exposed parts of the body, but to the midget every portion is accessible. he insinuates himself under the collar, the wristband, and through the texture of the garments, and the whole region between the shirt and the skin is a field for his operations. in one process of the haying operations, in particular, they are very annoying. the hay, when cut, is carried in small cocks upon two poles by two men to the scaffolding, for the purpose of being stacked. while thus employed, with both hands engaged, millions of these little invisibles insinuate themselves under the garments, and, whatever interest or ambition may fail to do, by way of producing energetic motion, the irritating smart of their bite abundantly makes up. _nolens volens_, the men thus employed dance to the tune of "_midget's meadow-hay jig_;" and when no longer able to resist the earnest invitation to rub and scratch, which their irritating bite holds out, down drop the poles, hay and all! ah! let him who has experienced the irritation, and the relief of furious friction, _think_--i'm sure he may not pen it. but, notwithstanding the labor and annoyances of meadow life, there are pastimes and adventures to be met with. a shot now and then at some stray deer who may chance to stroll upon the meadow to graze; the hooking of beautiful trout, pickerel, and other delicious pan-fish, afford agreeable relief from _ennui_; while the spoils of the forest and the brook afford most agreeable changes of diet. here, also, very frequently are skirmishes had with the common black bear. if bruin is not intentionally pugnacious, he is really meddlesome; nay, more, a downright trespasser--a regular thief--an out-and-out "no-government" animal, who, though neither profane nor yet immoral, still, without apostolical piety, would have "all things common." these peculiar traits of character secure to him the especial attention of mankind, and ever make him the object of attack. though formidable as an enemy, it is hard to allow him to pass, even if he be civilly inclined, without direct assault. on one occasion, while two men were crossing a small lake in a skiff, on their return from the meadows, where they had been putting up hay, they discovered a bear swimming from a point of land for the opposite shore. as usual in such cases, temptation silenced prudential remonstrance; so, changing their course, they gave chase. the craft being light, they gained fast upon the bear, who exerted himself to the utmost to gain the shore. but, finding himself an unequal match in the race, he turned upon his pursuers and swam to meet them. one of the men, a short, thick-set, dare-devil sort of a fellow, seized an ax, and the moment the bear came up, inflicted a blow upon his head which seemed to make but a slight impression. before a second could be repeated, the bear clambered into the boat; he instantly grappled the man who struck him, firmly setting his teeth in the man's thigh; then settling back upon his haunches, he raised his victim in the air, and shook him as a dog would a wood-chuck. the man at the helm stood for a moment in amazement, without knowing how to act, and fearing that the bear might spring overboard and drown his companion; but, recollecting the effect of a blow upon the end of a bear's snout, he struck him with a short setting-pole. the bear dropped his victim into the bottom of the boat, sallied and fell overboard, and swam again for the shore. the man bled freely from the bite, and as the wound proved too serious to allow a renewal of the encounter, they made for the shore. medical aid was procured as soon as possible, and in the course of six weeks the man recovered from the effects of the bite. but one thing saved them from being upset; the water proved sufficiently shoal to admit of the bear's getting bottom, from which he sprang into the boat. had the water been deep, the boat must inevitably have been upset, in which case the consequences might have been more serious. it was on one of these haying occasions that a more startling but harmless encounter with the elements was experienced. one afternoon, about two o'clock, while several men were making their way up a small stream on a branch of the penobscot, their attention was suddenly arrested by a sound which resembled distant thunder. each moment the noise grew more distinct, accompanied with a tremulous motion of the earth. still nearer and yet nearer it approached, with a rushing sound, intermingled with loud reports. between our boatmen and the forest at the southwest spread an area of meadow land. looking in this direction, a dense column, rising high in the heavens, was seen whirling in the distance, and approaching with incredible velocity. they barely effected a landing when it came upon them. in an instant their boat was hurled into the tops of the trees over their heads, while they were able to retain their position by holding on to the small undergrowth, and escaped unhurt. the hurricane, in its passage across the meadow, seemed to lose its force, so that by the time it reached the opposite side of the meadow its power was broken, and its career of destruction ended. in its passage it laid a strip of forest level some seventy rods wide and thirty miles long. no tree within this limit withstood its fury. the toughest and stateliest mingled in wildest confusion with blanched trunks, yielding sapling, and slender undergrowth. at the proper time, which varies in different localities, but generally during the early part of fall, a more extensive outfit is made for another up-river expedition, for the purpose of erecting winter camps, clearing the main roads, and attending to such other preliminaries as may be deemed necessary. several years ago the whole distance from our homes to the interior was traveled by water, on which occasions heavy-laden boats were taken up these rivers and streams, and across the lakes, an operation which was both hazardous and laborious, particularly where the swift current of rapids was to be overcome, and when it became necessary to carry the boat and cargo around impassable falls--a frequent occurrence, the river in some places being nothing but one continuous succession of rapids for miles. in some places, to save the labor of "carrying by," attempts are made to shove the boats up fearful rapids, where a single mistake or false maneuver would swamp them. a lively little incident of this kind is quoted below, from doctor jackson's account of an excursion up the penobscot on the business of a geological survey of the state. "while we were engaged in exploring the rocks (at grindstones falls), our men tried to shove the boat up the falls, but the violence of the current prevented their effecting their object, the boat being instantly filled and sunk in the attempt, while all our baggage and provisions that remained on board were swept off and carried down the stream. a scene of unwonted activity now ensued in our endeavors to save our articles, as they were rapidly borne down the foaming waters. the boat, fortunately, was not much injured, and we succeeded in hauling it upon a rock, and bailed out the water, after which we gave chase to our lost articles, and succeeded in saving those that were most essential to our safety. the bread-barrel, although scuttled, was but half full of bread, and floated down stream with its opening uppermost, so that but little of it was injured. our bucket of rice burst open and was lost. the tea-kettle and other cooking apparatus sank in the river, and were fished up by a hook and line. the tent was found about a mile down the river, stretched across a rock. the maps and charts were soaked with water, so that it required as much labor and patience to unroll them as the papyri of herculaneum. our spare boots and shoes were irrecoverably lost. having rescued the most important articles from the water, we carried by the falls, camped, and dried our papers and provision, being thankful that no worse an accident had befallen us. fortunately, we had taken the precaution to remove our surveying instruments and the blankets from the boat before the falls were attempted. "having kindled a camp-fire and dried ourselves, a storm of rain began to pour around us; but our great fire was not easily damped, and we passed a comfortable night beneath the shelter of a water-proof tent. "the penobscot boatmen are well skilled in the art of camping in a comfortable manner, and soon prepare their fire for the night, make a bed of boughs, and pitch the tent in such a manner as to afford a complete shelter. having partaken of our meal, we reposed upon the boughs spread upon the earth, our feet being turned toward the fire. this being our first encampment for the season, the novelty of the scene prevented sleep; the night was very pleasant, and the broad moon, slowly descending in the west, added her effulgence to beautify the scene, her image being reflected by the rippling waters, while various contrasts of light and shade from the dense foliage, and the pale moonbeam and glaring red camp-fire, gave an effect full of beauty, and worthy the attention of an artist. "amid pleasant scenes, we are, however, subject to contrasts of a less agreeable kind; and here our indian, while cutting wood, suffered a severe accident; his hatchet, accidentally slipping, was driven deeply into his leg between two bones, so as to expose the anterior tibial artery. i was then called upon in my surgical capacity, and, having my instruments with me, dressed his wound in the usual manner, and early next morning we took him to maltanawcook island, where we made arrangements with another indian, louis neptune, to supply his place while he was recovering from his wound." these difficulties of transportation have been somewhat abated by the construction of roads, which penetrate much nearer to lumber berths than formerly, and enable us to convey our provisions, implements, and even boats, with horse-teams, a considerable portion of the distance once laboriously performed by water. i am not familiar with any kind of labor which tests a man's physical abilities and powers of endurance more than boating supplies up river. the labor of carrying by falls, and portages from lake to lake, imposes a heavy tax upon the body. barrels of pork, flour, and other provisions, too heavy for one man to carry alone, are slung to a pole by the aid of ropes, one man being at either end, and thus we clamber, under our heavy burdens, over rocks, the trunks of fallen trees, slippery roots, and through mud-sloughs, sometimes without any path, through the thickets and groves of trees. the boat is turned bottom upward, the gunwales resting upon the shoulders of three men, two abreast near the bows, and one at the stern. in this position we pass over the same route through which the provisions have been carried to the next landing, where the goods are again reshipped, and we proceed by water on lake or stream, with the alternate routine of paddling, poling, and lugging, until the place of destination is reached. persons wholly unacquainted with river navigation can have but an imperfect idea of the skill as well as nerve brought into requisition in taking a heavy-laden bateau, skiff, or canoe up over rapids. let such a person stand upon the banks of the river, and survey some places over which these frail boats, loaded to the gunwale, pass, and he would not only regard the thing as exceedingly difficult and hazardous, but as altogether impossible; with the inexperienced it would, indeed, be both, but our skillful watermen will perform it with the greatest dexterity. should any traveler chance to take an up-river trip with those boatmen, i am quite sure his observations would confirm my statement respecting them. i am happy to add here the testimony of dr. jackson, who had an opportunity to witness their skill: "those who have never been on such a journey would be surprised at the dexterity of the penobscot boatmen as they drive their frail bateau through the rapids and among dangerous rocks. the slightest failure on their part, on passing the numerous water-falls, would place the lives of those on board in imminent peril, and the traveler has good reason to be thankful if the boat by their care is saved from being overturned or sunk in the river. "when the waters rush down a rapid slope of smooth and round rocks, forming what are called gravel-beds, the most strenuous exertions of the boatmen are required to stem the current, and not unfrequently their 'setting' poles are caught between the rocks, so as to be jerked from their grasp. bateaux are navigated up stream by means of slender poles of spruce, about twelve or fifteen feet in length, armed with an iron point, confined by a ferule or iron band around its extremity. one boatman stands in the bow and braces his foot against the stern as he labors; the other stands in the stern, and they both pole on the same side as they proceed up the margin of the stream. descending the river, they make use of paddles." however, the depth to which these frail boats are loaded, in which condition they pass through rough waters and wide lakes, where the wind is liable in a few minutes to raise high waves, can not be regarded as prudent, with all their matchless skill in navigating. when i call to mind the intemperate habits to which most lumbermen in times past were addicted, i am surprised that no more accidents have occurred while navigating our rivers. i shall not soon forget the perilous circumstances in which i was once placed, in company with others, while taking a deeply laden skiff up to the head waters of the st. croix. having safely passed the rapids of the river, we embarked upon the lake che-pet-na-cook, up which we paddled about twenty miles to the portage, over which we had to carry our effects to grand lake, distant some two miles. by the time we had accomplished these moves the shadows of a september evening began to gather around us, giving a peculiar tint to the large sheet of water before us, which spread to the north some twenty-five miles, with an expanse east and west of about six miles, washing a portion of the shores of maine on the west, and the province of new brunswick on the east. the point of destination lay about half way up the lake on the american side. our boat was deeply laden with men and provisions; of the former there were seven in number. a light wind from the east caused a gentle ripple upon the surface of the waters, which induced us to hug the easterly shore pretty closely. we proceeded slowly, and when it became necessary to change our course in order to cross the lake, night had nearly settled down upon the waters, leaving only sufficient light to reveal the opposite shore, which stretched along the verge of the horizon, presenting the appearance of a long, dark cloud settling upon the borders of the lake. we had plenty of new rum on board, which was used at stated intervals, as, according to the faith of nearly every man in those days, it gave to the arm more vigor in the necessary labor of plying the paddle. it soon became evident that one of our number had imbibed too freely, to the imminent hazard of our lives. the reader may easily imagine our perilous condition under such circumstances. our frail skiff was about eighteen feet long, and four feet across the top of the gunwale amid-ships, tapering to a point at either end, constructed of thin slips of pine boards nailed to some half dozen pair of slender knees about two inches in diameter. on board were some fifteen hundred pounds of provisions, with seven men, which pressed her into the water nearly to the gunwale; three inches from the position of a level, and she would fill with water. as men usually are quite insensible to danger when in liquor, so was it with "_dan_" in this instance. too comfortable in his feelings to keep still, as indeed was indispensable to the most steady among us, he kept constantly lurching about, and periling us with a capsizing repeatedly. he was admonished in the most pressing and peremptory manner to keep quiet; but in his drunken idiocy he became a terror, and it was manifest that something must be done to insure our safety. our paddles hung powerless over the sides of the frail thing which buoyed us upon the surface of the deep water; to advance seemed too uncertain and dreadful, while the darkness rested down deeper upon the lake. a hasty consultation was held upon the propriety of putting back to the shore, when the drunken wretch gave a sudden lurch, which settled the gunwale under water! "my god! we are gone!" shouted some half dozen voices at the instant. however, by a counter-motion we raised the submerged gunwale from sinking further. in an instant our helmsman was upon his feet, and, raising his paddle in a most menacing attitude over the head of the intoxicated man, "d--n you!" said he, "if you move again i'll split your skull open!" the threat was terrible, and he would have cleft his head open in an instant. i expected he would strike, for our lives depended upon quieting him in some way; but the fellow seemed to awake to our perilous condition, and slunk down into the bottom of the boat. we put about instantly for the shore, and in a few moments touched the beach. with a willing step i placed my feet on terra firma once more. it was then determined that part of the crew should remain, while the others should cross the lake, unload the provisions, and return for those left behind. four men were accordingly left, and i was glad to make one of the number, though left upon a wild and unfrequented spot, without food or shelter, with the prospect of spending the greater portion of the night there, even should the rest of the crew make a successful trip; and, in the event of their being swamped, a thing by no means impossible, for sometimes the wind suddenly rises, and in a very short time lashes the lake into foaming waves, in which case the skiff could not live, then the circuit of the lake must be performed, and days must elapse before relief could be obtained; but still, with these certainties and probable contingencies before us, we were glad to feel mother earth under the soles of our feet. by the time these matters had been fixed, the darkness had shut out the western shore entirely from view; our comrades, therefore, only shaped their course by the fire which we had kindled upon the shore, and which we kept burning by a constant supply of brush and the most inflammable wood that could be procured. not having had much experience in the wilderness at this time, and never under such peculiar circumstances, i felt somewhat timid and apprehensive, as we were far from relief and the abodes of civilization, and in a region where bears, wolves, and a dangerous specimen of the feline species, known by woodsmen as the "indian devil," had prowled from time immemorial. from the manner in which my exiled companions piled the brush on the fire, i suspected, also, that they had some confidence in its protective power. the night was cold, but by our exertions to keep up a brilliant fire, and copious draughts of black pepper tea, which we made in a little kettle, we kept quite comfortable. this process lasted until two o'clock in the morning, when the boat returned for us, having twice crossed the lake, in all twelve miles. we stepped on board, and at four o'clock her third trip across during the night was finished. one half mile from the shore, surrounded by an almost unbroken wilderness, stood a log cabin, tenanted by a man with his family, who had settled down for the purpose of clearing up a farm. at the time we landed the sky was overcast with dense clouds, and the darkness was so intense that i could not see an inch before my nose; i felt the force of that trite old proverb, "it's always darkest just before day." to the above-named cabin we were piloted through a dense forest, which was interlaced with a thick growth of underbrush. we made our way along as entirely unassisted by vision as though there were no such thing. by the aid of a constant hallooing, which was kept up at the log cabin, we made a direct course; and, after an untold number of stumbles over old wind-falls, and jibes from the limbs, knots, and protruding boughs of trees, we reached the object of our solicitude hungry and much fatigued. here, however, the hospitable inmates had anticipated our wants; a good meal of bread, baked beans, and pork, with coffee, was in waiting; and after heartily participating of the same, we threw ourselves upon a coarse bed, and were soon lost in a profound and undisturbed sleep. when we awoke the shades of night had entirely disappeared, the sun shone beautifully, and our ears were saluted with the wild notes of a thousand feathered songsters, whose sweet warblings lent a peculiar enchantment to the woodland scenery which skirted the shores of the lake, so strikingly in contrast with our dismal introduction the night previous, that we almost fancied ourselves awaking up in some fairy land. chapter iii. method of constructing camp and hovel.--timber.--covering.--arrangement of interior.--the bed.--deacon seat.--ingenious method of making a seat.--cooking: superior method of baking.--the nightly camp fire.--liabilities from taking fire.--a camp consumed.--men burned to death.--enjoyment.--the new camp: dedication. --a song.--a story.--new order in architecture.--ox hovel.--substitute for lime.--the devotedness of the teamster.--fat and lean cattle.-- swamping roads.--clumps of pine.--the points of interest in a logging road.--the teamster's path.--regret.--the peculiar enjoyment of men thus engaged. the re-outfit alluded to in the preceding pages having arrived upon the territory previously explored, arrangements are at once made to locate and build our winter camps. to determine upon the best point is by no means an easy task, it being very difficult to fix upon the location in a strange and imperfectly-explored forest. wood and water privileges are to be taken into the account; a central position in respect to the timber; the landing, the locating of the main roads, &c., are to be attended to. to combine all these qualities, where we can see only a few rods in advance on account of the trees and thickets, and our work must necessarily cover hundreds of acres of wild land, it must be confessed is no ordinary task. i have seldom taxed my judgment as severely on any subject as in judiciously locating a logging establishment. these preliminaries being settled, we commence "right merrily" our camp. the top strata of leaves and turf are removed from the spot upon which the structure is to be erected; this is necessary, as we should otherwise be in great danger of fire from the dry turf. while this process is going forward, others are engaged in felling the trees on the spot, and cutting them the length determined upon for our edifice. the work commences by throwing the larger logs into a square, notching the ends together. thus one tier after another is laid up until the walls attain the proper height, the smallest logs being used to finish out the upper tiers. in form they resemble a tin baker, rising some eight feet in front, while the roof pitches down within two or three feet of the ground in the rear. a double camp is constructed by putting two such squares face to face, with the fire in the middle. the spruce-tree is generally selected for camp building, it being light, straight, and quite free from sap. the roof is covered with shingles from three to four feet in length. these are split from trees of straight and easy rift, such as the pine, spruce, and cedar. the shingles are not nailed on, but secured in their place by laying a long heavy pole across each tier or course. the roof is finally covered with the boughs of the fir, spruce, and hemlock, so that when the snow falls upon the whole, the warmth of the camp is preserved in the coldest weather. the crevices between the logs constituting the walls are tightly calked with moss gathered from surrounding trees. [illustration: winter-quarters of lumbermen.] the interior arrangement is very simple. one section of the area of the camp is used for the dining-room, another for the sleeping apartment, and a third is appropriated to the kitchen. these apartments are not denoted by partitioned walls, but simply by small poles some six inches in diameter, laid upon the floor of the camp (which is the pure loam), running in various directions, and thus forming square areas of different dimensions, and appropriated as above suggested. the head-board to our bed consists of one or more logs, which form also the back wall of the camp. the foot-board is a small pole, some four or six feet from the fire. our bedstead is mother earth, upon whose cool but maternal bosom we strew a thick coating of hemlock, cedar, and fir boughs. the width of this bed is determined by the number of occupants, varying from ten to twenty feet. bed-clothes are suited to the width of the bed by sewing quilts and blankets together. the occupants, as a general thing, throw off their outer garments only when they "turn in" for the night. these hardy sons of the forest envy not those who roll on beds of down; their sleep is sound and invigorating; they need not court the gentle spell, turning from side to side, but, quietly submitting, sink into its profound depths. directly over the foot-pole, running parallel with it, and in front of the fire, is the "_deacon seat_." i think it would puzzle the greatest lexicographer of the age to define the word, or give its etymology as applied to a seat, which indeed it is, and nothing more nor less than a seat; but, so far as i can discover from those most deeply learned in the antiquarianism of the logging swamp, it has nothing more to do with deacons, or deacons with it, than with the pope. the seat itself, though the name be involved in a mystery, is nothing less nor more than a plank hewn from the trunk of a spruce-tree some four inches thick by twelve inches wide, the length generally corresponding with the width of the bed, raised some eighteen inches above the foot-pole, and made stationary. this seat constitutes our sofa or settee, to which we add a few stools, which make up the principal part of our camp furniture. should any of my readers ever be situated beyond the reach of cabinet-makers, but in the vicinity of the forest, i may introduce them into the secret of chair-making without the necessity of any tools except an ax. split the top part of the trunk of a spruce or fir-tree in halves, cut a stick of the right length upon which three or four stout limbs grow; trim off the limbs of a sufficient length to suit your fancy; smooth the piece of timber to which they adhere by hewing, and your seat is completed. i can assure the reader that the instances are rare in which it becomes necessary to send them to the cabinetmaker for repairs, especially to have the legs glued in. the luxury of a temporary table is now pretty generally enjoyed, with plates, knives and forks, tin dippers for tea and coffee, and sometimes cups and saucers. formerly the deacon seat was used instead of a table, and a large frying-pan served for a platter for the whole crew. around this the men would gather, each putting in his bread or potatoe, and salt fish, to sop in the pork fat; and never did king or courtier enjoy the luxuries of a palace more exquisitely than do our loggers this homely fare. on the st. croix river, lumbermen generally adhere, from choice, to the original custom of eating from the frying-pan. bread and beans are baked in a large "duch oven," which is placed in a hole dug in the earth by the side of the fire, and entirely covered with hot coals and embers. in this position it is allowed to remain until the contents are done, when the ashes and cover are removed. i need not presume to inform the skillful cook that this mode of baking is unequaled. our camp-fire is made on the ground next to the front wall, which is sometimes protected by a tier of large stones, but in other instances we simply set up two short stakes, against which enormous back-logs rest. after supper, each night unfailingly a very large fire is built to sleep by. some of the wood used is so large that it often burns twenty-four hours before being entirely consumed. the amount of fuel made use of in building one camp-fire would supply an ordinary fire a week. it is not an unfrequent occurrence, of course, for camps to take fire in this exposed situation, but some one generally discovers it in season to extinguish it by the timely application of snow or water. instances have occurred, however, in which crews have been consumed with the camp. i recollect an instance in which a camp, on one of the tributaries of the penobscot, took fire during the night while the inmates were asleep, and three out of four men were burned to death. in view of this liability, the roof of our camps are not so strongly fastened down but that, in the event of a retreat being cut off from the door, the united efforts of the inmates can burst it up, and thus make their escape. these things, however serious in some instances, are but little thought of or cared for. around this good camp-fire, "with mirth to lighten duty," gather the crew after the toils of the day, to enjoy, as best they may, our long winter evenings; and around no fireside where there are equal responsibilities, intelligence, and many more luxuries, can be found more real contentment, or a greater degree of enjoyment. here rises the voice of song upon the wings of the winter night storm as it rolls past with the sublimity of an alpine tempest. here, also, are rehearsals of wild adventure, listened to with all the interest which isolated circumstances usually lend even to little matters. the first night we lodged in one of our newly-erected camps, its dedication was proposed. it was moved and carried by acclamation that hobbs should sing us a song, and that "nick" should give us one of his yarns. hobbs, who, by-the-way, was a short, thick-set little fellow, with a chubby red face, and, withal, rather musical in his turn, gave vent to the following beautiful song, dedicated to the "lumbermen" by the poet whittier. "comrades! round our woodland quarters sad-voiced autumn grieves; thickly down these swelling waters float his fallen leaves. through the tall and naked timber, column-like and old, gleam the sunsets of november with their skies of gold. o'er us, to the south-land heading, screams the gray wild goose; on the night-frost sounds the treading of the stately moose. fast the streams with ice are closing, colder grows the sky, soon, on lake and river frozen, shall our log-piles lie. when, with sounds of smother'd thunder, on some night of rain, lake and river break asunder winter's weaken'd chain, down the wild march-flood shall bear them to the saw-mill's wheel, or, where steam, the slave, shall tear them with his teeth of steel. be it starlight, be it moonlight in these vales below, when the earliest beams of sunlight streaks the mountain's snow, crisps the hoar-frost keen and early to our hurrying feet, and the forest echoes clearly all our blows repeat. when the crystal ambijejis stretches broad and clear, and millnoket's pine-black ridges hide the browsing deer; where, through lakes and wide morasses, or through rocky walls, swift and strong penobscot passes, white with foamy falls. where, through clouds, are glimpses given of katahdin's sides-- rock and forest piled to heaven, torn and plowed by slides! far below the indian trapping in the sunshine warm, far above the snow-cloud wrapping half the peak in storm! where are mossy carpets better than the persian weaves, and, than eastern perfumes, sweeter seem the fading leaves; and a music wild and solemn from the pine-tree's height, rolls its vast and sea-like volume on the wind of night. make we here our camp of winter, and through sleet and snow pitch knot and beechen splinter on our hearth shall glow; here, with mirth to lighten duty, we shall lack alone woman, with her smile of beauty, and her gentle tone. but her hearth is brighter burning for our work to-day, and her welcome at returning shall our loss repay. strike, then, comrades! trade is waiting on our rugged toil, far ships waiting for the freighting of our woodland spoil! ships, whose traffic links these highlands bleak and cold of ours with the citron-planted islands of a clime of flowers; to our frosts the tribute bringing of eternal heats. in our lap of winter flinging tropic fruits and sweets. cheerly on the ax of labor let the sunbeam dance, better than the flash of saber or the gleam of lance! strike! with every blow is given freer sun and sky, and the long-hid earth to heaven looks with wond'ring eye. loud behind us grow the murmurs of the age to come-- clang of smiths, and tread of farmers bearing harvest home! here her virgin lap with treasures shall the green earth fill-- waving wheat and golden maize-ears crown each beechen hill. keep who will the city's alleys, take the smooth-shorn plain, give to us the cedarn valleys, rocks and hills of maine! in our north-land, wild and woody, let us still have part-- rugged nurse and mother sturdy, hold us to thy heart! oh, our free hearts beat the warmer for thy breath of snow, and our tread is all the firmer for thy rocks below. freedom, hand in hand with labor, walketh strong and brave; on the forehead of his neighbor no man writeth slave! brother looks on equal brother, manhood looks on men-- be thy future, oh our mother, as thy past hath been-- heavenward, like thy mountain-guardians, with their star-crowns deck'd, and thy watchword, like katahdin's cloud-swept pine, 'erect!'" then followed the "yarn." now "nick," as we familiarly called him, was a tall, sinewy man, the exact counterpart of hobbs in physical proportions, full of fire, and fond of adventure. he had spent much of his life in the woods, and in different parts of the country, somewhat apt in his observations, and off-hand in his style of conversation. looking thoughtfully into the fire a moment, as if to call an item from his experience, he proceeded as follows: "in the month of september, --, having business to transact with a man engaged in timber-making on bartholomew's river, new brunswick, i set out on horseback, late in the afternoon, for his encampment, distant some ten miles. part of the distance i had to pass through a dense wilderness, where a path had been made by cutting away the underbrush and small trees; the rest of the journey could only be prosecuted by riding in the bed of the stream, which at the time was quite dry. "in answer to the inquiries made at the tavern where i hired my horse, i was told that the camp was on the bank of the stream, and could be easily seen from the channel through which i was to pass. the sun was about one hour high when i entered the woods; but i had not proceeded half way through when the heavens suddenly became overcast, which admonished me that i was about to experience one of those terrible thunder-tempests which sometimes occur at the close of a sultry september day, and are remarkable for the copious torrents of rain which fall in the vicinity of lakes and rivers, surrounded by the wilderness. i felt some solicitude to reach the river before it became dark, but the roughness of the road prevented me from going faster than a walking pace, and, ere i had accomplished the journey through the forest, the rain poured down in torrents. the thunder of heaven's artillery was tremendous, and the shooting chains of fire hissed through the tops of the trees like darting fiery serpents, here and there spending their force upon the lofty spire of some gigantic pine, splitting and shivering its trunk into thousands of pieces, and strewing them far away upon the ground. night, hastened by the gathering tempest, wrapped the whole scene in profound darkness; thus, amid the deafening peals of thunder, the darting forks of lightning which shot around me in every direction, and torrents of rain, my horse groped his way silently along, bearing me upon his back. at length, through much danger, i reached the channel of the river, to encounter new dangers and difficulties. "when i entered the channel, the rain had not materially affected the amount of water then flowing; but i had not proceeded far when the swollen and foaming current, which had accumulated from hill sides and numerous brooks, rushed by me, rendering riding imminently hazardous. to be prepared for the worst, i divested myself of my boots and the horse of his saddle. in vain did i strain my eyes to gain a glimpse of the camp each time the lightning dispelled the darkness, which gave me a momentary glimpse of all around. concluding at length that i had gone too far down the river, i turned my horse and breasted the foaming current, resolving to renew my exertions in an up-river course. but the water by this time was so high, and the channel so treacherous, that i concluded to gain the shore of the stream, and make my way, if possible, along its banks, though densely studded with trees and bushes growing in the wildest confusion. owing to the precipitousness of the banks, i was unable to gain my object, and was therefore compelled to remain in the stream. again and again i essayed to escape to the shore, but from the same causes failed of its accomplishment. my situation was becoming more critical every moment. sometimes my horse was making his way over large rocks; then, suddenly coming to deeper portions of the channel, would lose his footing entirely, and swim with me upon his back. all this time the darkness was intense, the tempest raged with unabated fury, while the already swollen current continued to increase. the solemnity of the midnight hour, rendered terrible by the tempest overhead and threatening waters beneath, filled my mind with painful apprehensions. the awful grandeur of god seemed to pass before me, proclaimed in the voice of his thunder. death, the judgment, and my sins stood before me; and i felt constrained to implore his protecting mercy. at length the lightning revealed a camp just upon the bank. here i was able to leave the channel of the river, whose banks had so long held me a prisoner. "supposing that i had found the object of my hazardous search, i dismounted, and, flinging the bridle from my horse's head, left him to shift for himself, and hastened to enter; but, to my amazement, it proved an old, deserted, and solitary camp. here, however, i resolved to worry out the remainder of the night. the wind chopping round to the northwest, it ceased raining and grew very cold, so that before daylight the rain drops froze upon the bushes; and, beginning to be very chilly, i found that exercise was necessary to keep me warm. the darkness was yet so great that i could see nothing; and, for fear of thrusting my head against the roof, i threw myself down and crawled about on my hands and knees, until, wearied with my exertions, i felt the need of repose. i then dug a hole down in the old boughs, which had been used by the former occupants as a bed, crawled into it, and covered myself entirely under the rubbish, except my face. for a few moments i thought i should be able to sleep, but my hopes were speedily dissipated. i had not lain long before i was covered with myriads of fleas. springing from my restless couch, i shook and brushed them from my clothes; and as all hopes of rest were dismissed, i continued to exercise myself as well as i could until the grizzly rays of early morning dispelled the darkness which had so long held me a prisoner. as soon as it became sufficiently light, i set out, in my stockings, in pursuit of the camp, which i had failed to find the night previous. proceeding up river about two miles, i came at once upon the camp. it was sabbath morning; the inmates were indulging themselves in a late nap, and, notwithstanding my urgent circumstances, i resolved to wait a little, and give them a gentle surprise. you may be assured that my wretched appearance fully qualified me for the occasion. my feet were still partially covered with the ragged remnants of my stockings; my clothes were considerably torn and thoroughly wet, and the shives of the old bough bed were sticking into them nearly as thickly as a fleece of porcupine quills; my hat, rendered soft by the thorough drenching it had received, settled down over my head and ears; the black dye from the hat had run down in little lines all over my face, leaving their dry channels distinctly defined; my long and tangled hair, together with my haggard, care-worn countenance, rendered me altogether an object which, under any circumstances, was calculated to inspire terror. stepping up to the camp, i gave a sudden, loud rap, without any further demonstration, which awoke the crew. as they naturally supposed themselves far away from any human beings, a knock at their door thus early, and on a sabbath morning, the more surprised them, and awakened their curiosity. 'who or what the d--l can that be?' i overheard some one within say. presently a man, who, by-the-way, knew me perfectly well, came to the door, and, with some caution, opened it. i met him with a fixed and vacant stare, without uttering a word. he returned my gaze with an expression of inquisitive astonishment. "'you don't seem to know me,' i observed. the tones of my _voice_ increased his astonishment, for they seemed familiar, but the strangeness of my _appearance_ confounded him, and i could not refrain from laughing outright. finally, half suspecting whom i _might_ be, he exclaimed, with much energy, '_nick! in the name of g--d, is it you?_' i soon satisfied them on this point, while i briefly related my night's adventure. their astonishment was great at seeing me in such an extraordinary plight, but not greater than was my satisfaction to meet them and to obtain the succor which i needed. after breakfast, some of the men went in pursuit of my horse, saddle, and boots. the last two they found on a little island in the stream, where, for fear of losing them by the flood, i had lashed them to a stump the night before." having thus finished his story and replenished his pipe, the old man leaned back against the camp walls and enveloped himself in a cloud of smoke, while he listened, in turn, to the various incidents in the experience of others, of which his own had been suggestive. finally, after some little discussion as to the precise location which each should occupy on the new bed, all hands "turned in," to live over again the fortunes of the day in the fantastic dreams of night. having completed our own cabin, we proceed next to construct a hovel for the oxen, which are yet behind. in erecting this, the same order in architecture is observed as in that of the camp, the timber of which it is composed, however, being much larger than that with which our own habitation is constructed. with the trunks of trees the walls are carried up nearly equal in height, leaving one side, however, enough lower than the other to give a moderate pitch to the roof, which is covered with the same kind of material as that of the camp. in the camp for the workmen there is no floor but the earth; the ox hovel, however, has a flooring made of small poles laid closely together, and hewed down with some degree of smoothness with the adz, and in the final finish the crevices in the walls are plastered with clay or ox manure. a temporary shed is thrown up in front, which serves as a depôt for hay and provender. no little pains are bestowed upon the conveniences designed for the team. with the exception of sporting horses, never have i witnessed more untiring devotion to any creature than is bestowed upon the ox when under the care of a good teamster. the last thing before "turning in," he lights his lantern and repairs to the ox hovel. in the morning, by the peep of day, and often before, his faithful visits are repeated to hay, and provender, and card, and yoke up. no man's berth is so hard, among all the hands, as the teamster's. every shoe and nail, every hoof and claw, and neck, yokes, chains, and sled, claim constant attention. while the rest of the hands are sitting or lounging around the liberal fire, shifting for their comfort, after exposure to the winter frosts through the day, he must repeatedly go out to look after the comfort of the sturdy, faithful ox. and then, for an hour or two in the morning again, while all, save the cook, are closing up the sweet and unbroken slumbers of the night, so welcome and necessary to the laborer, he is out amid the early frost with, i had almost said, the care of a mother, to see if "old turk" is not loose, whether "bright" favors the near fore-foot (which felt a little hot the day before), as he stands upon the hard floor, and then to inspect "swan's" provender-trough, to see if he has eaten his meal, for it was carefully noted that at the "watering-place" last night he drank but little; while at the further end of the "tie-up" he thinks he hears a little clattering noise, and presently "little star" is having his shins gently rapped, as a token of his master's wish to raise his foot to see if some nail has not given way in the loosened shoe; and this not for once, but every day, with numberless other cares connected with his charge. a competent hand in this profession generally calculates to do a good winter's hauling, and bring his team out in the spring in quite as good flesh as when they commenced in the early part of the season. but as in all other matters, so in this, there are exceptions to the general rule. some teamsters spoil their cattle, and bring them out in the spring miserably poor, and nearly strained to death. such a practice, however, can not be regarded as either merciful or economical. so far as true policy is concerned, it is much better to keep a team well. what may be gained by hard pushing during the former part of the season will be more than made up during the latter, when the teams are moderately urged and well kept, and then you have a good team still for future labor. having completed our winter residences, next in order comes the business of looking out and cutting the "main," and some of the principal "branch roads." these roads, like the veins in the human body, ramify the wilderness to all the principal "clumps" and "groves of pine" embraced in the permit. we have here no "turnpikes" nor rail-ways, but what is often more interesting. no pencilings can excel the graceful curves found in a main road as it winds along through the forest, uniform in width of track, hard-beaten and glassy in its surface, polished by the sled and logs which are so frequently drawn over it. each fall of snow, when well trodden, not unlike repeated coats of paint on a rough surface, serves to cover up the unevenness of the bottom, which in time becomes very smooth and even. and besides, no street in all our cities is so beautifully studded with trees, whose spreading branches affectionately interlace, forming graceful archways above. along this road side, on the way to the landing, runs a serpentine pathway for the "knight of the goad," whose deviations are marked now outside this tree, then behind that "windfall," now again intercepting the main road, skipping along like a dog at one's side. to pass along this road in mid-winter, one would hardly suspect the deformities which the dissolving snows reveal in the spring--the stumps and knolls, skids and roots, with a full share of mud-sloughs, impassable to all except man, or animals untrammeled with the harness. in the process of making these roads, the first thing in order is to look out the best location for them. this is done by an experienced hand, who "spots" the trees where he wishes the road to be "swamped." we usually begin at the landing, and cut back toward the principal part of the timber to be hauled. in constructing this road, first all the underbrush is cut and thrown on one side; all trees standing in its range are cut close to the ground, and the trunks of prostrated trees cut off and thrown out, leaving a space from ten to twelve feet wide. the tops of the highest knolls are scraped off, and small poles, called skids, are laid across the road in the hollows between. where a brook or slough occurs, a pole-bridge is thrown across it. these preparatory arrangements are entered upon and prosecuted with a degree of interest and pleasure by lumbermen scarcely credible to those unacquainted with such a mode of life and with such business. though not altogether unacquainted with other occupations and other sources of enjoyment, still, to such scenes my thoughts run back for the happier portions of life and experience. i have attended to various kinds of labor, but never have i entered upon any half so pleasing as that usually performed in the "logging swamp." although greatly jeoparding my reputation for taste, i will utter it. positively, it is delightful. i have since had some years' experience in one of the professions, in the enjoyment of some of the refinements of life, yet, if it could be done consistently, i would now with eagerness exchange my house for the logging camp, my books for the ax, and the city full for those wilderness solitudes whose delightful valleys and swelling ridges give me nature uncontaminated--i had almost said, uncursed, fresh from the hand of the creator. to write of those things makes the bustling city seem dull and irksome. fain would i hie away once more to those pleasant pastime labors. happily, all tastes are not alike. yet there are few who, on entering a beautiful native forest, would not experience delight; the varieties of trees set out by the hand of nature, their graceful forms and spreading branches interlocked with neighborly affection and recognition; the _harmonious confusion_ of undergrowth; the beautiful mosses, the ever-varying surface--old age, manhood and youth, childhood and infancy--massive trunks and little sprouts; the towering pine and creeping winter-green, intermingled by the artless genii of these wild retreats, all combined, serve to explain the _attachment_ of the aborigines to their forest abodes, and give to savage life the power of enchantment. chapter iv. tokens of winter.--the anticipation.--introduction of team.-- difficulties attending it.--uncomfortable boating.--the contrast.--method of crossing streams and rivers.--the docility of the ox.--facilities of turnpikes.--stopping-places.--arrival. --an adventure.--ten oxen in the ice.--method of taking them out. --an uncomfortable night.--the midnight excursion.--oxen running at large in the wilderness.--developments of memory.--logging.-- division of labor.--how to manage in the absence of a cook.-- "uncle nat."--anecdote.--felling pines.--ingenuity of choppers. --preparatory arrangements.--the bob-sled.--method of operation described.--the excitement.--comparison.--immediate length of pine-trees.--conclusion. by the time these arrangements are made, serious indications of winter appear in cold, freezing nights and light falls of snow. it is now about time to look for the arrival of the team and extra hands. this event we anticipate with as much interest as voyagers are wont to feel when they meet upon the ocean after several months at sea. letters and newspapers are expected, and, when received, perused with avidity. new acquaintances are to be made, new tools to be examined, and every thing foreign, however insignificant, is an object of interest. the introduction of the team to winter quarters is always attended with more or less trouble: much less, however, of late than in former years. then, all the chains and other implements connected with the business, together with provisions for the crew and provender for the oxen, enough to last until the swamps, rivers, and lakes were frozen, so as to allow teams to pass over them, were boated in the manner described in a former chapter, which required many trips, and were continued until a late period in the fall. to the latest trips an additional and most uncomfortable inconvenience is added to the many hardships of boating provisions. this is when the ice makes on our poles while in the act of passing up over rapids. often our hands become so cold and stiff as to render it very difficult to hold on to the icy instrument. the mariner may stop a moment, even in a gale, while at the yard-arm, to blow his freezing fingers; but not so with the lumberman with a loaded boat in a rapid current: every finger is needed every moment, as life and property would be endangered by paying even slight attention to cold fingers. where the nature of the route will allow it, and an early start is desired, our teams are attached to a long sled, lightly loaded, which is dragged over miry, rough roads. in crossing large streams, we unyoke the oxen and swim them over. if we have no boat, a raft is constructed, upon which our effects are transported, when we re-yoke and pursue our route as before. our oxen are often very reluctant to enter the water while the anchor ice runs, and the cold has already begun to congeal its surface. but an ox hardly knows how to refuse compliance with his master's wishes, so submissive is he in his disposition. of late, since roads have been cut, and even "turnpikes" made a considerable portion of the distance up the main rivers, such as the "calais and houlton road" on the st. croix, and the "military road" on the penobscot, which connect with other less perfect thoroughfares, and finally terminate in common swamp roads, our conveyances are much easier, and the business of taking the team on to the ground is, and may be safely, deferred until frosts and snows admit of a more agreeable mode of travel. what is called a team is variously composed of from four to six, and even eight oxen. during the months of november and december, after the ground and swamps are frozen, and early snows fall, our team is attached to a "long sled," loaded with provisions, tools, &c., accompanied with a new recruit of hands. leaving home and the scenes of civilization, slowly we move forward to join those who had preceded us to make preparations for our reception. after several days' journeyings, putting up at night at places erected and supplied for the convenience of such travelers, and at suitable distances on the route, we finally reach our new home. our arrival is no less agreeable to ourselves than welcome to our comrades. but there are incidents scattered all the way along, and seldom do we perform such a journey without experiencing something worth relating. on one occasion, late in the fall, we started for our winter quarters up river. we had traveled about one hundred miles, passing along up the military road, then south upon the calais road to baskahegan lake, which we were to cross, our camps being on the opposite side. we reached the borders of the lake late in the afternoon. the ice was not so thickly frozen as was anticipated, so that the practicability of crossing seemed exceedingly problematical. having been long on the way, we were anxious, if possible, to arrive in camp that night. the shores of the lake were so swampy that it was deemed impracticable to perform the route around it, and it was finally determined to make an effort to cross upon the ice. we had twelve oxen, which were disposed of in the following order: the lightest yoke of oxen was selected and driven in yoke before to test the strength of the ice, and, in case the loaded teams should break through, to be used to pull them out. these were our reserve. the next in the line of march was a pair of oxen attached to a sled, with hay, &c. next in order was a four-ox team; these were also attached to a sled, loaded with hay and provisions; and, finally, to bring up the rear, still another four-ox team, with a loaded sled--all of which were strung out at suitable distances, to prevent too much weight coming upon any one point, thus rendering our passage more safe. the word was given, when we all moved forward, intending first to gain a point which ran out into the lake, covered with a thick small growth. the ice cracked and buckled beneath our feet at every step. proceeding in this way, we gained the point in safety. it had by this time become late, and the last rays of the setting sun gilded the tops of the towering pines, which peered far up in the air above the surrounding forest. the night was very cold, and the wind swept up the lake with a penetrating chill, which made us button up our garments closely to prevent its too ready access to our bodies. having gained the point in safety, we were emboldened to set forward again upon the main body of the lake, which was yet to be crossed. here the ice seemed less capable of sustaining our weight than in the cove, which, from its protected position, had probably congealed sooner than the main lake, which was more exposed to the action of winds. here the ice gave more alarming indications of its incapacity to hold us. we had not proceeded more than three fourths of a mile when the hindermost team broke through, sled and all, which was very naturally accounted for, as the teams which preceded cracked and weakened the ice. the alarm was given along the line, when the other teams stopped; and while we were preparing to extricate those already in, the next team of four oxen dropped in also; and finally they were all in at once, except the reserve pair. had they kept in motion, probably the foremost teams might have escaped; but, upon stopping, the ice gradually settled, when in they went. there we were on that bleak spot, with the shades of night fast settling down upon us, and ten oxen struggling in the benumbing waters: business enough, thought we. standing upon the edge of the ice, a man was placed by the side of each ox to keep his head out of the water. we unyoked one at a time, and, throwing a rope round the roots of his horns, the warp was carried forward and attached to the little oxen, whose services on this occasion were very necessary. a strong man was placed on the ice at the edge, so that, lifting the ox by his horns, he was able to press the ice down and raise his shoulder up on the edge, when the warp-oxen would pull them out. for half an hour we had a lively time of it, and in an almost incredible short time we had them all safely out, and drove them back upon the point nearly a mile. it was now very dark. we left our sleds in the water with the hay, pulling out a few armsful, which we carried to the shore to rub the oxen down with. poor fellows! they seemed nearly chilled to death, while they shook as if they would fall to pieces. we built up a large fire, and, leaving the principal part of the crew behind to take care of the oxen, i, with several of the hands, started to find, if possible, the camps, where were waiting those who had been previously engaged in making arrangements for the winter. this was esteemed by some rather risky, as it was getting very dark, and we did not know exactly which way to shape our course. but the prospect seemed gloomy and uninviting to remain upon that bleak point all night, and, besides, we wished the assistance of the camp's crew in taking our teams over next day. delay was not to be thought of. we therefore started. a squall of snow came up when we were midway across, which completely bewildered us, and we became divided in opinion as to the proper course to steer. tenacious of my own views, i resolved to pursue the course which appeared to me right, when the others consented to follow. finally, after several hours of hard travel, we gained the shore, not far from the road which led back to the camp, about half a mile distant in the woods. we were here, again, puzzled to know whether the camp lay at the right or left. settling that matter by guess, as yankees often do other things, we traveled along by the shore about one fourth of a mile, when, to our great relief, we came to the road, up which we passed, and reached the camp a little after midnight, hungry and fatigued. we found our comrades snugly quartered and soundly sleeping. refreshing ourselves with hot tea, bread, and beef, we turned in and slept until daylight, when, after breakfast, all hands started to rejoin those left behind. we were with them in a few hours. poor fellows! they had had a pretty uncomfortable season, not one moment's sleep during the night, and scantily provided with food, while the oxen fared harder still. we succeeded in getting out of the ice all but one load of hay, which we left behind. not venturing to cross directly, we now followed round the lake, close in shore, and finally reached our winter quarters in safety, and without further accident. the task of taking oxen on to the ground every fall is very considerable, especially when we go far into the interior, as we frequently do nearly two hundred miles. this labor and expense is sometimes obviated by leaving them in the spring to shift for themselves in the wilderness and on the meadows, where they remain until autumn, when they are hunted up. during their wilderness exile they thrive finely, and, when found, appear very wild; yet wondering, they seem to look at us as though they had some lingering recollection of having seen us before. it is often very difficult to catch and yoke them; but, with all their wildness, they evidently show signs of pleasure in the recognition. when turned out in this way, however, instances have occurred when they have never again been seen or heard from. in some cases they probably get mired or cast, and die; in others, they doubtless stray away, and fall a prey to bears and wolves. bears as well as wolves have been known to attack oxen. an individual who owned a very fine "six-ox team" turned them into the woods to browse, in a new region of country. late in the evening, his attention was arrested by the bellowing of one of them. it continued for an hour or two, then ceased altogether. the night was very dark, and, as the ox was supposed to be more than a mile distant, it was thought not advisable to venture in search of him until morning. as soon as daylight appeared, he started, in company with another man, to investigate the cause of the uproar. passing on about a mile, he found one of his best oxen laying prostrate, and, on examination, there was found a hole eaten into the thickest part of his hind quarter nearly as large as a hat; not less than six or eight pounds of flesh were gone. he had bled profusely. the ground was torn up for rods around where the encounter occurred; the tracks indicated the assailant to be a very large bear, who had probably worried the ox out, and then satiated his ravenous appetite, feasting upon him while yet alive. a road was bushed out to the spot where the poor creature lay, and he was got upon a sled and hauled home by a yoke of his companions, where the wound was dressed. it never, however, entirely healed, though it was so far improved as to allow of his being fattened, after which he was slaughtered for food. after a few days' respite, and as soon as a sufficient quantity of snow has fallen, we commence hauling the logs. as there are several departments of labor, each man is assigned to some one of them. in most cases, indeed, every hand is hired with the distinct understanding that he is to perform a particular part of the labor, and the wages differ accordingly, being regulated, also, by the ability with which they can severally fill those stations. first, then, comes the "boss," or the principal in charge. then the choppers, meaning those who select, fell, and cut the logs, one of whom is master chopper. next the swampers, who cut and clear the roads through the forest to the fallen trees, one of whom is master swamper. then comes the barker and loader, the man who hews off the bark from that part of the log which is to drag on the snow, and assists the teamster in loading. then we have the captain of the göad, or teamster, whom we have already alluded to; and finally the cook, whose duty is too generally known to require any particular description. every crew is not supplied with the last important character; this deficiency, i believe, is much more common on the st. croix than on the penobscot, where the mode of camp life and fare is much better attended to. when we have no person specially set apart to this work, the crew generally take turns, to do which there is an obligation imposed by usage and common consent on some rivers, and each man, therefore, must comply, or furnish a substitute by employing some one to act for him. in those instances where no cook is provided, we take turns, a week at a time, or each man consents to perform some particular duty in cookery; for instance, one makes all the bread, another the tea and coffee, and so on through the routine of camp domesticism. a slight degree of rebellion sometimes manifests itself touching this business, especially before matters receive their regular winter mold. one refuses to cook, another says he "was hired to do something else," while another says, "i'm d--d if i cook any how." i recollect a pleasant occurrence of this kind, at least one rendered so by the clever management of an old man connected with the crew. they had returned to camp from the labors of the day, the fire was nearly out, and nothing prepared for supper. alike fatigued and hungry, each refused, in turn, to discharge the duties of cook, and the gloomy prospect presented itself of a supperless night. "uncle nat," as we familiarly called him, was a "jolly old soul," the very personification of good nature, corpulency, and quietude, possessing, withal, a good share of ingenious wit; and, from his corpulency and asthmatical tendencies, reminding one of a small locomotive by the puffing and blowing consequent on physical exertion. now how to settle this matter, and have even any number of volunteer cooks, at once occurred to "uncle nat." "dear me" (his favorite expression), "what a time about cooking. why, it is the easiest thing in nature to get supper. now, boys, if you will all wait upon me, i'll be cook." "agreed! agreed!" was the ready response on all hands. this matter being settled, "uncle nat" very deliberately deposited himself on the "deacon seat," and commenced drilling the volunteer assistants. "now, richard, get a little wood and kindle up the fire." "isaac, step down to the brook and fetch a pail of water;" "and you, mac, while the fire is getting under way, wash a few potatoes, and get them ready to put on when the pot boils." "now, jake, cut a few slices of pork," continued our chief cook, with much sang froid, "and put it over the fire to fry." "but you were to get supper, uncle nat." "yes, i was to get supper, but you were to wait upon me," says he, casting a significant glance toward tom, at the same time ordering him to make the dishes ready. remonstrance was vain: they had agreed to wait upon him, if he would be cook. every thing was arranged, supper ready, and there still sat the old gentleman--hadn't stirred an inch. "dear me" (deep breathing), "dear me," said uncle nat, "i have got supper, and 'twas one of the easiest things in the world." the "boys" are caught--it was a "good 'un;" and to the enjoyment of a relishable supper was added a hearty laugh. uncle nat's proposition passed into a by-word, and all, ever after, were ready to do any thing, provided they could be "waited upon." in the process of taking logs to the landing from the swamp, the first thing in order is to select the tree. the direction in which it is judged likely to fall is determined by circumstances. first, the inclination of the tree as it stands; and, second, the direction and power of the wind. sometimes this matter may be governed, where the tree stands very erect, by under-cutting one side more than the other; to which an expedient is added, when necessary, by falling one tree against another. choppers can, if skillful, lay a tree, in falling, with sufficient accuracy to hit and drive a stake into the ground. when, however, a tree stands upon an abrupt hill-side, we are apt to get deceived. it is thrilling business to bring those giant pines down. the ground trembles under the stroke, while the reverberating echo of its fall, as it rings through mountains and valleys, may, on a still morning, be heard six or eight miles. before felling the pine, small trees are cut for bed-pieces, the pine-tree falling across them transversely, to prevent it from becoming too deeply imbedded in the snow. this also facilitates the barking and loading operation. the proper place being selected, the trunk of the tree is cut off while the "swampers" have been directing their road to the spot. the "barkers"--like whalemen leaping upon the back of their prize with their cutting spades--are at once at work with their axes, hewing the bark from that portion of the log which is to be drawn along on the snow, while the other end is to rest upon the sled. the "teams" next approach the scene of action, drawing after them a short sled, called a "bob-sled;" probably so named from the bobbing motion it has while drawn over the rough ground. it would be an insult to every new englander's intelligence to attempt a description of this sled; i therefore pass it, remarking, by-the-way, that, considering the service for which it is designed, it is made very strong, as it is required to sustain one end, or more than half the weight of the largest trees upon a single bar: in some cases several tuns burden rest upon a single point. while this bar alone sustains one half the entire log, it is also the only part of the sled to which the heavy trunks of those massive trees are bound; it therefore draws as well as sustains the load, challenging the powers of six and even eight of the stoutest oxen. [illustration: log hauling--process of loading logs.] in the process of loading, the bob-sled is placed several feet from the side of that end of the log which is to be placed upon it. then a large skid, from four to eight inches in diameter and several feet in length, is placed near the large bar running under the log. a chain is next attached to the bar, passing now under, then over the log, back to the sled, crossing it. it is then attached by other chains to one or two yoke of oxen, whose united strength is requisite to roll one end of it upon this big bar, to which it is bound with strong, heavy chains. of late, the tackle and fall has been introduced in loading, which very much facilitates the operation. the six oxen are now attached to the sled, one pair of them to the tongue; the others are attached by chains in advance as leaders. the teamster now arranges every ox in the most advantageous position, passing through several evolutions with his goad-stick; then giving the word of command, they settle to it. slowly it moves forward, while the vociferations of the animated teamster, the squatting-like posture of the hard-drawn team, indicate the importance and interest of the occasion; and the bob-sled, as though it were a thing of life, actually screams out at every joint as if in keenest agony beneath its ponderous load. the reader has perhaps been present at a "launching;" the nervous emotions experienced in the process described, including the felling of the gigantic pines, the skidding and hauling, quite equal those awakened at the launching of a vessel. this process is gone through with several times each day during the winter (sundays excepted); really it is like going to launching every day, and the pleasurable excitement of the labor renders it extremely delightful to most who are engaged in it. the general custom is to take the whole trunk of the tree to the landing at one load, when its size will allow, where it is sawed into short logs from fourteen to thirty feet in length, to facilitate the driving down river. i have cut one tree into five logs, the shortest of which was not less than fourteen feet. i have seen them hauled eighty-two feet in length, resembling, in their passage to the landing, immense serpents crawling from their lurking-places. thus we continue to fell, clear, and haul until the "clump" is exhausted, and our attention is again directed to another school of these forest whales, and so on until our winter's work is completed. formerly, pine-trees grew in abundance on the banks of rivers and streams, and the margins of those wild lakes found in the interior. thousands were cut and rolled into the water, or on the ice, and perhaps a much larger number were so near the landing as to require merely to be dragged out, thus avoiding the labor of loading, in which case, from the massive size of the trees, it was necessary to cut them into short logs. such opportunities, however, for lumber have gone by, and the greater portion has now to be hauled from a considerable distance. a greater scarcity is too evidently at hand, though, were every pine-tree sound and good, no end to the quantity might yet be thought of; for, notwithstanding the immense quantities cut, and the devastating fires by which hundreds of millions have been destroyed, on some rivers it still abounds, but a large portion of pine is found in a rotten and decayed state at heart. having long since come to maturity, that peculiar process which makes its impress upon all earthly objects, _decay_, is nowhere more general in its depredations than among the noble pines in the north and east. there is a cancerous disease peculiar to the pine-tree, to which lumbermen give the original name of "_conk_" or "_konkus_." the manifestation of this disease on the outside of the tree, usually several feet from the butt-end, is a small spot of a brown color, sometimes resembling gingerbread in appearance and texture, protruding as a general thing only to the surface, and varying in size from a ninepence to the crown of a hat. in some clumps of pine, all that indicates the presence of this disease is a little yellow pitch starting out through the bark and trickling down the outside. the uninitiated would be led to suspect but little, if indeed any, harm from an appearance so slight and unnoticeable as that presented by the konkus. it exerts no influence either upon the size or beautiful proportions of the tree, as those most seriously affected, in outward appearances, are as handsomely grown as the most perfect, which leads to the conclusion that the disease does not much affect them until quite mature. on cutting one of these trees, the infection is found to spread itself, more or less, throughout the trunk, turning the wood to a reddish color, making it spongy in texture; and while the fibrous portions of the wood retain their thread-like straightness, the marrowy portion or flesh-like membranes, and intermediate layers between the fibers, appear dry and of a milky whiteness. sometimes the rot shoots upward, in imitation of the streaming light of the aurora borealis; in others downward, and even both ways, preserving the same appearance. large families, and even communities of the pine, are thus infected, so that in a group of thirty trees perhaps not more than half a dozen short logs can be obtained. frauds are sometimes practiced upon those who purchase logs, by driving a knot or piece of a limb of the same tree into the konkus and hewing it off smoothly, so that it has the appearance of a natural knot, but the dissecting process at the saw-mill exposes the imposition. much of this timber is hollow at the butt, affording in some instances fine winter retreats for bears, where they den. we have a high time of it when we chance to make such a discovery. "a few rods from the main logging road, where i worked one winter," said mr. johnson, "there stood a very large pine-tree. we had nearly completed our winter's work, and it still stood unmolested, because from appearances it was supposed to be worthless. while passing it one day, not quite satisfied with the decision that had been made upon its quality, i resolved to satisfy my own mind touching its value; so, wallowing to it through the snow, which was nearly up to my middle, i struck it several blows with the head of my ax, an experiment to test whether a tree be hollow or not. when i desisted, my attention was arrested by a slight scratching and whining. "suspecting the cause, but not quite satisfied, i thumped the tree again, listening more attentively, and heard the same noise as before: it was a bear's den. examining the tree more closely, i discovered a small hole in the trunk, near the roots, with a rim of ice on the edge of the orifice, made by the freezing of the breath and vapor from the inmates. "satisfied now of the character of the prisoners, i communicated my discovery at once to the rest of the crew, who immediately left their work and ran like a pack of hounds, jumping and leaping through the deep snow. we kicked the snow away from the roots to learn the place of entrée, which we plugged up with bits of wood, after removing the frozen dirt and turf with which it was closed. we next cut a hole into the tree, about four feet from the ground, some eight or ten inches in diameter; into this a pole was thrust, to 'stir them up' and prepare them to thrust their heads out below when the hole should be opened again. "having annoyed them sufficiently to induce them to attempt an egress from the passage below, the obstacles were removed, after stationing two men, one on either side, with their axes to dispatch them--when the old bear thrust out her head. a severe wound was inflicted, which sent her back growling and gnashing her teeth. again thrusting the pole through the upper aperture, we punched and jibed her for some minutes before she could be induced to make a second effort to escape; when she did, she was met as before, receiving a second and more deadly wound, which was succeeded with less furious demonstrations of rage than before. a third effort was made to drive them out, but there was no response save the piteous crying of small cubs. we then cut a small hard-wood tree, trimmed off the branches, leaving one prong about six inches long, sharpened out, forming a hook. enlarging the aperture below, we thrust in the wooden hook, which grappled a heavy but resistless carcass. with much exertion we drew it forth: she was dead. the cubs, four in number--a thing unusual by one half--we took alive, and carried them to the camp, kept them a while, and finally sold them. they were quite small and harmless, of a most beautiful lustrous black, and fat as porpoises. the old dam was uncommonly large; we judged she might weigh about three hundred pounds. her hide, when stretched out and nailed on to the end of the camp, appeared quite equal to a cow's hide in dimensions." here in our wild winter quarters, where we delight to dwell during a period of from three to four months, we find much to interest and amuse--much to do, for an equal amount of labor is rarely performed within the same time under any other circumstances, and i may add, too, with less fatigue or disrelish. with incident, romance, story, song, and adventure, time passes rapidly away. chapter v. the skill and enterprise of lumbermen.--method of taking logs down hills and mountains.--dry sluice.--stern anchor.--giant mountain steps.--alpine lumbering.--warping a team down steeps.--trial of skill and strength.--the rival load.--danger and inconvenience of hills in logging roads.--a distressing accident.--solemn conclusion of a winter's work.--some of the perils attendant upon lumbering.--a fearful wound.--narrow escape.--the buried cap.--the safest way of retreat.--a sabbath in the logging camp.--sunday morning naps.-- domestic camp duties.--letter writing.--recreations.--sable traps.--deer and moose.--bear meat.--a rare joke.--moose hunt. --bewildered hunters.--extraordinary encounter.--conclusion of sabbath in the woods. lumbermen not only cut and haul from clumps and communities, but reconnoiter the forest, hill, vale, and mountain side for scattering trees; and when they are deemed _worth_ an _effort_, no location in which they may be found, however wild or daring, can oppose the skill and enterprise of our men. for taking logs down mountain sides, we adopt various methods, according to the circumstances. sometimes we construct what are termed dry sluice-ways, which reach from the upper edge of a precipice down to the base of the hill. this is made by laying large poles or trunks of straight trees together the whole distance, which is so constructed as to keep the log from running off at the sides. logs are rolled into the upper end, the descent or dip often being very steep; the log passes on with lightning-like velocity, quite burying itself in the snow and leaves below. from the roughness of the surfaces, the friction is very great, causing the bark and smoke to fly plentifully. at other times, when the descent is more gradual and not too steep, and when there is not a sufficient quantity to pay the expense of a sluice-way, we fell a large tree, sometimes the hemlock, trim out the top, and cut the largest limbs off a foot, more or less, from the trunk. this is attached to the end of the log by strong chains, and as the oxen draw the load, this drag thrusts its stumpy limbs into the snow and frozen earth, and thus prevents the load from forcing the team forward too rapidly. should the chain give way which attaches the hold-back to the load, nothing could save the team from sudden destruction. there is a mountain on the "west branch" of the penobscot where pine-trees of excellent quality stand far up its sides, whose tops appear to sweep the very clouds. the side which furnishes timber rises in terraces of gigantic proportions, forming a succession of abrupt precipices and shelving table-land. there are three of these giant mountain steps, each of which produces lumber which challenges the admiration and enterprise of the logmen. the ascent to these alpine groves is too abrupt to allow the team to ascend in harness; we therefore unyoke and drive the oxen up winding pathways. the yokes and chains are carried up by the workmen, and also the bob-sled in pieces, after taking it apart. ascending to the uppermost terrace, the oxen are re-yoked and the sled adjusted. the logs being cut and prepared as usual, are loaded, and hauled to the edge of the first precipice, unloaded, and rolled off to the table of the second terrace, where they are again loaded, hauled, and tumbled off as before, to the top of the first rise, from which they are again pitched down to the base of the mountain, where for the last time they are loaded, and hauled to the landing. to obtain logs in such romantic locations was really as hazardous as it was laborious, varying sufficiently from the usual routine of labor to invest the occasion with no ordinary interest. it was, indeed, an exhibition well calculated to awaken thrilling emotions to witness the descent of those massive logs, breaking and shivering whatever might obstruct their giddy plunge down the steep mountain side, making the valleys reverberate and ring merrily with the concussion. in other instances loads are eased down hill sides by the use of "tackle and fall," or by a strong "warp," taking a "bite" round a tree, and hitching to one yoke of the oxen. in this manner the load is "tailed down" steeps where it would be impossible for the "tongue oxen" to resist the pressure of the load. sometimes the warp parts under the test to which it is thus subjected, when the whole load plunges onward like an avalanche, subjecting the poor oxen to a shocking death. but the circumstance which calls forth the most interest and exertion is the "rival load." when teams are located with sufficient proximity to admit of convenient intercourse, a spirit of rivalry is often rife between the different crews, on various points. the "largest tree," the "smartest chopper," the "best cook," the "greatest day's work," and a score of other superlatives, all invested with attractions, the greater from the isolated circumstances of swamp life. the "crack" load is preceded by all needful preliminaries. all defective places in the road are repaired. new "skids" are nicely pealed by hewing off the bark smoothly, and plentifully as well as calculatingly laid along the road. all needful repairs are made on the bob-sled, and the team put in contending plight. the trees intended for the "big load" are carefully prepared, and hauled to some convenient place on the main road singly, where they are reloaded, putting on two and sometimes three large trees. all things in readiness, the men follow up with hand-spikes and long levers. then comes the "tug of war;" rod by rod, or foot by foot, the whole is moved forward, demanding every ounce of strength, both of men and oxen united, to perform the feat of getting it to the landing. were life and fortune at stake, more could not be done under the circumstances. the surveyor applies the rule, and the result gives either the one or the other party "whereof to glory." if not "teetotalers," the vanquished "pay the bitters" when they get down river. men love and will have excitement; with spirits never more buoyant, every thing, however trifling, adds to the stock of "fun alive" in the woods. every crew has its "jack," who, in the absence of other material, either from his store of "mother-wit" or "greenness," contributes to the merry shaking of sides, or allows himself to be the butt of good-natured ridicule. but while the greater part of swamp life is more or less merry, there are occasional interruptions to the joyousness that abounds. logging roads are generally laid out with due regard to the conveniences of level or gently descending ground. but in some instances the unevenness of the country admits only of unfavorable alternatives. sometimes there are moderate rises to ascend or descend on the way to the landing; the former are hard, the latter dangerous to the team. i knew a teamster to lose his life in the following shocking manner: on one section of the main road there was quite a "smart pitch" of considerable length, on which the load invariably "drove" the team along on a forced trot. down this slope our teamster had often passed without sustaining any injury to himself or oxen. one day, having, as usual, taken his load from the stump, he proceeded toward the landing, soon passing out of sight and hearing. not making his appearance at the expiration of the usual time, it was suspected that something more than usual had detained him. obeying the impulses of a proper solicitude on his behalf, some of the hands started to render service if it were needed. coming to the head of the hill down which the road ran, they saw the team at the foot of it, standing with the forward oxen faced about up the road, but no teamster. on reaching the spot, a most distressing spectacle presented itself; there lay the teamster on the hard road, with one of the sled runners directly across his bowels, which, under the weight of several tons of timber, were pressed down to the thickness of a man's hand. he was still alive, and when they called out to him, just before reaching the sled, he spoke up as promptly as usual, "here am i," as if nothing had been the matter. these were the only and last words he ever uttered. a "pry" was immediately set, which raised the dead-fall from his crushed body, enabling them to extricate it from its dreadful position. shortly after, his consciousness left him, and never more returned. he could give no explanation; but we inferred, from the position of the forward oxen, that the load had forced the team into a run, by which the tongue cattle, pressed by the leaders, turning them round, which probably threw the teamster under the runner, and the whole load stopped when about to poise over his body. he was taken to the camp, where all was done that could be, under the circumstances, to save him, but to no purpose. his work was finished. he still lingered, in an apparently unconscious state, until midnight, when his spirit, forsaking its bruised and crushed tenement, ascended above the sighing pines, and entered the eternal state. the only words he uttered were those in reply to the calling of his name. as near as we could judge, he had laid two hours in the position in which he was found. it was astonishing to see how he had gnawed the rave[ ] of the sled. it was between three and four inches through. in his agony, he had bitten it nearly half off. to do this, he must have pulled himself up with his hands, gnawed a while, then fallen back again through exhaustion and in despair. he was taken out to the nearest settlement, and buried. [ ] "rave," the railing of the sled. at a later period, we lost our teamster by an accident not altogether dissimilar. it was at the winding up of our winter's work in hauling. late in the afternoon we had felled and prepared our final tree, which was to finish the last of the numerous loads which had been taken to the well-stowed landing. wearied with the frequency of his travels on the same road for the same purpose, this last load was anticipated with no ordinary interest; and when the tree was loaded, he seemed to contemplate it with profound satisfaction. "this," said he, "is my last load." for the last time the team was placed in order, to drag from its bed the tree of a hundred summers. onward it moved at the signal given, and he was soon lost to view in the frequent windings of the forest road. it was nearly sundown, and, had it not been for closing up the winter's work that day, the hauling would have been deferred until next morning. the usual preparations for our evening camp-fire had been made, and the thick shadows of evening had been gathering for an hour, and yet he did not come. again and again some one of the crew would step out to listen if he could catch the jingling of the chains as they were hauled along; but nothing broke upon the ear in the stillness of the early night. unwilling longer to resist the solicitude entertained for his safety, several of us started with a lantern for the landing. we continued to pass on, every moment expecting to hear or meet him, until the landing was finally reached. there, quietly chewing the cud, the oxen were standing, unconscious of the cause that detained them, or that for the last time they had heard the well-known voice of their devoted master. hastening along, we found the load properly rolled off the sled, but heavens! what a sight greeted our almost unbelieving vision! there lay the poor fellow beneath that terrible pressure. a log was resting across his crushed body. he was dead. from appearances, we judged that, after having knocked out the "fid," which united the chain that bound the load, the log rolled suddenly upon him. thus, without a moment's warning, he ceased in the same instant to work and live. it proved, indeed, his "last load." to contemplate the sameness of the labor in passing to and fro from the swamp to the landing several times a day, on a solitary wilderness-road, for a term of several months, with only those respites afforded in stormy weather and on sundays, one might think himself capable of entering into the feelings of a teamster, and sympathetically share with him the pleasurable emotions consequent upon the conclusion of his winter's work. while it must be conceded that, of things possessing every element capable of contributing pleasure, we sometimes weary through excess, let it not be supposed that our knight of the goad has more than usual occasion to tire, or sigh for the conclusion of the hauling season. to be sure, "ta and fra" the livelong winter, now with a load wending along a serpentine road, as it winds through the forest, he repeats his visits to the swamp, and then the landing; but he is relieved by the companionship of his dumb but docile oxen, for whom he contracts an affection, and over whom he exercises the watchful vigilance of a faithful guardian, while he exacts their utmost service. he sees that each performs his duty in urging forward the laboring sled. he watches every hoof, the clatter of shoes, the step of each ox, to detect any lameness. he observes every part and joint of the bob-sled while it screeches along under the massive log bound to it. he examines the chains, lest they should part, and, above all, the objects more watched than any others, the "fid-hook" and the "dog-hook," the former that it does not work out, the latter that it loose not its grappling hold upon the tree. sometimes his little journeys are spiced with the infinite trouble which a long, sweeping stick will give him, by suddenly twirling and oversetting the sled every time it poises over some abrupt swell in the road. there is really too much to be looked after, thought of, and cared for in his passage to the landing to allow much listlessness or burdensome leisure. as well might a pilot indulge irresponsible dormancy in taking a fine ship into port, as for a teamster to be listless under his circumstances. no; the fact is, that, with the excitement attendant upon each load as it moves to the landing, ten times the number of tobacco quids are required than would abundantly suffice him on his return. then look at the relaxation and comfort of the return. the jingling chains, as they trail along on the hard-beaten way, discourse a constant chorus. with his goad-stick under his arm or as a staff, he leisurely walks along, musing as he goes, emitting from his mouth the curling smoke of his unfailing pipe, like a walking chimney or a locomotive; anon whistling, humming, or pouring forth with full-toned voice some favorite air or merry-making ditty. he varies the whole exercise by constant addresses to the oxen, individually and collectively: "haw, bright!" "ge, duke!" "whoap! whoap!" "what ye 'bout there, you lazy----" "if i come there, i'll tan your old hides for you!" "pchip, pschip, go along there!" knowing him not half in earnest, unless it happens to be a sharp day, the oxen keep on the even tenor of their way, enjoying the only apparent comfort an ox can enjoy while away from his crib--chewing the cud. recently, however, the wolves have volunteered their services, by accompanying the teams, in some places, on their way to and from the landing, contributing infinitely more to the fears than conscious security of the teamsters. three teams, in the winter of , all in the same neighborhood, were beset with these ravenous animals. they were of unusually large size, manifesting a most singular boldness, and even familiarity, without the usual appearance of ferocity so characteristic of the animal. sometimes one, and in another instance three, in a most unwelcome manner, volunteered their attendance, accompanying the teamster a long distance on his way. they would even jump on the log and ride, and approach very near the oxen. one of them actually jumped upon the sled, and down between the bars, while the sled was in motion. some of the teamsters were much alarmed, keeping close to the oxen, and driving on as fast as possible. others, more courageous, would run toward and strike at them with their goad-sticks; but the wolves sprang out of the way in an instant. but, although they seemed to act without a motive, there was something so cool and impudent in their conduct that it was trying to the nerves--even more so than an active encounter. for some time after this, fire-arms were a constant part of the teamster's equipage. no further molestation, however, was had from them that season. one of my neighbors related, in substance, the following incidents: "a short time since," said he, "while passing along the shores of the mattawamkeag river in the winter, my attention was suddenly attracted by a distant howling and screaming--a noise which might remind one of the screeching of forty pair of old cart-wheels (to use the figure of an old hunter in describing the distant howling of a pack of wolves). presently there came dashing from the forest upon the ice, a short distance from me, a timid deer, closely pursued by a hungry pack of infuriated wolves. i stood and observed them. the order of pursuit was in single file, until they came quite near their prey, when they suddenly branched off to the right and left, forming two lines; the foremost gradually closed in upon the poor deer, until he was completely surrounded, when, springing upon their victim, they instantly bore him to the ice, and in an incredibly short space of time devoured him, leaving the bones only; after which they galloped into the forest and disappeared." on the same river a pack of these prowling marauders were seen just at night, trailing along down river on the ice. a family living in a log house near by happened to have some poison, with which they saturated some bits of meat, and then threw them out upon the ice. next morning early the meat was missing, and, on making a short search in the vicinity, six wolves were found "dead as hammers," all within sight of each other. every one of them had dug a hole down through the snow into the frozen earth, in which they had thrust their noses, either for water to quench the burning thirst produced by the poison, or to snuff some antidote to the fatal drug. a bounty was obtained, on each, of ten dollars, besides their hides, making a fair job of it, as well as ridding the neighborhood of an annoying enemy. the following account of a wolf-chase will interest the reader: "during the winter of , being engaged in the northern part of maine, i had much leisure to devote to the wild sports of a new country. to none of these was i more passionately addicted than that of skating. the deep and sequestered lakes of this northern state, frozen by intense cold, present a wide field to the lovers of this pastime. often would i bind on my rusty skates, and glide away up the glittering river, and wind each mazy streamlet that flowed on toward the parent ocean, and feel my very pulse bound with joyous exercise. it was during one of these excursions that i met with an adventure which, even at this period of my life, i remember with wonder and astonishment. "i had left my friend's house one evening, just before dusk, with the intention of skating a short distance up the noble kennebeck, which glided directly before the door. the evening was fine and clear. the new moon peered from her lofty seat, and cast her rays on the frosty pines that skirted the shore, until they seemed the realization of a fairy scene. all nature lay in a quiet which she sometimes chooses to assume, while water, earth, and air seemed to have sunken into repose. "i had gone up the river nearly two miles, when, coming to a little stream which emptied into the larger, i turned in to explore its course. fir and hemlock of a century's growth met overhead, and formed an evergreen archway, radiant with frost-work. all was dark within; but i was young and fearless, and as i peered into the unbroken forest, that reared itself to the borders of the stream, i laughed in very joyousness. my wild hurra rang through the woods, and i stood listening to the echo that reverberated again and again, until all was hushed. occasionally a night-bird would flap its wings from some tall oak. "the mighty lords of the forest stood as if naught but time could bow them. i thought how oft the indian hunter concealed himself behind these very trees--how oft the arrow had pierced the deer by this very stream, and how oft his wild halloo had rung for his victory. i watched the owls as they fluttered by, until i almost fancied myself one of them, and held my breath to listen to their distant hooting. "all of a sudden a sound arose, it seemed from the very ice beneath my feet. it was loud and tremendous at first, until it ended in one long yell. i was appalled. never before had such a noise met my ears. i thought it more than mortal--so fierce, and amid such an unbroken solitude, that it seemed a fiend from hell had blown a blast from an infernal trumpet. presently i heard the twigs on the shore snap as if from the tread of some animal, and the blood rushed back to my forehead with a bound that made my skin burn, and i felt relieved that i had to contend with things of earthly and not spiritual mold, as i first fancied. my energies returned, and i looked around me for some means of defense. the moon shone through the opening by which i had entered the forest, and considering this the best means of escape, i darted toward it like an arrow. it was hardly a hundred yards distant, and the swallow could scarcely excel my desperate flight; yet, as i turned my eyes to the shore, i could see two dark objects dashing through the underbrush at a pace nearly double that of my own. by their great speed, and the short yells which they occasionally gave, i knew at once that they were the much-dreaded gray wolf. [illustration: the common wolf.] "i had never met with these animals, but, from the description given of them, i had but little pleasure in making their acquaintance. their untamable fierceness, and the untiring strength which seems to be a part of their nature, render them objects of dread to every benighted traveler. "'with their long gallop, which can tire the hound's deep hate, the hunter's fire,' "they pursue their prey, and naught but death can separate them. the bushes that skirted the shore flew past with the velocity of light as i dashed on in my flight. the outlet was nearly gained; one second more, and i would be comparatively safe, when my pursuers appeared on the bank directly above me, which rose to the height of some ten feet. there was no time for thought; i bent my head and dashed wildly forward. the wolves sprang, but, miscalculating my speed, sprang behind, while their intended prey glided out into the river. "nature turned me toward home. the light flakes of snow spun from the iron of my skates, and i was now some distance from my pursuers, when their fierce howl told me that i was again the fugitive. i did not look back; i did not feel sorry or glad; one thought of home, of the bright faces awaiting my return, of their tears if they should never again see me, and then every energy of mind and body was exerted for my escape. i was perfectly at home on the ice. many were the days i spent on my skates, never thinking that at one time they would be my only means of safety. every half minute an alternate yelp from my pursuers made me but too certain they were close at my heels. nearer and nearer they came; i heard their feet pattering on the ice nearer still, until i fancied i could hear their deep breathing. every nerve and muscle in my frame was stretched to the utmost tension. "the trees along the shore seemed to dance in the uncertain light, and my brain turned with my own breathless speed; yet still they seemed to hiss forth with a sound truly horrible, when an involuntary motion on my part turned me out of my course. the wolves close behind, unable to stop and as unable to turn, slipped, fell, still going on far ahead, their tongues lolling out, their white tushes gleaming from their bloody mouths, their dark, shaggy breasts freckled with foam; and as they passed me their eyes glared, and they howled with rage and fury. the thought flashed on my mind that by this means i could avoid them, viz., by turning aside whenever they came too near; for they, by the formation of their feet, are unable to run on ice except on a right line. "i immediately acted on this plan. the wolves, having regained their feet, sprang directly toward me. the race was renewed for twenty yards up the stream; they were already close on my back, when i glided round and dashed past my pursuers. a fierce growl greeted my evolution, and the wolves slipped upon their haunches and sailed onward, presenting a perfect picture of helplessness and baffled rage. thus i gained nearly a hundred yards each turning. this was repeated two or three times, every moment the wolves getting more excited and baffled, until, coming opposite the house, a couple of stag-hounds, aroused by the noise, bayed furiously from their kennels. the wolves, taking the hint, stopped in their mad career, and after a moment's consideration turned and fled. i watched them till their dusky forms disappeared over a neighboring hill; then, taking off my skates, i wended my way to the house, with feelings better to be imagined than described." such annoyances from these migrating beasts, in the vicinity of logging births as above-named, are of recent date. up to i had been much in the wild forests of the northeastern part of maine, clearing wild land during the summer and logging in the winter, and up to this time had never seen a satisfactory evidence of their presence. but since this period they have often been seen, and in such numbers and of such size as to render them objects of dread. every department of labor among the loggers, and in fact, to extend the observation, every department of life, is characterized more or less by adventure and peril. our men get badly cut sometimes, and then, in the absence of a surgeon, are put upon their own resources to stanch blood and dress wounds. i recollect an instance in which a man in one of the neighboring crews, while at work, received the whole bit of an ax into the muscular portion of his thigh, by an accidental blow from an associate. it was indeed a gaping wound. a wound of such an alarming character, in the absence of suitable medical aid, is deemed a serious matter, and not without just cause. in this instance use was made of handkerchiefs to swathe up the wound, so as to stanch the flowing blood, while they bore him to the camp upon a litter. he was laid upon the deacon seat, and the wound was sewed up by one of the crew with a common sewing-needle. it did well, and in the course of a few weeks he was able to resume his labors. life is constantly endangered in felling the pine-trees. the tops of other trees seldom oppose any barrier to the giddy plunge of the towering pine, breaking, splitting, and crushing all coming within its range. the broken limbs which are torn from its own trunk, and the wrenched branches of other trees, rendered brittle by the intense frosts, fly in every direction, like the scattered fragments of an exploding ship, always more or less endangering life. often those wrenched limbs are suspended directly over the place where our work requires our presence, and on the slightest motion, or from a sudden gust of wind, they slip down with the stealthiness of a hawk and the velocity of an arrow. i feel an involuntary shudder, as if now in the presence of danger, while i remember some of the narrow escapes i have had from death by the falling of such missiles. i recollect one in particular, which was wrenched from a large pine-tree i had just felled. it lodged in the top of a towering birch, directly over where it was necessary for me to stand while severing the top from the trunk. viewing its position with some anxiety, i ventured to stand and work under it, forgetting in the excitement my danger. while thus engaged, the limb stealthily slipped from its position, and, falling directly before me end foremost, penetrated the frozen earth. it was about four inches through, and ten feet long. it just grazed my cap; a little variation, and it would have dashed my head in pieces. but my time had not come. attracted, on one occasion, while swamping a road, by the appearance of a large limb which stuck fast in the ground, curiosity induced me to extricate it, for the purpose of seeing how far it had penetrated. after considerable exertion, i succeeded in drawing it out, when i was perfectly amazed to find a thick cloth cap on the end of it. it had penetrated the earth to a considerable depth. subsequently i learned that it belonged to a man who was killed instantly by its fall, striking him on the head, and carrying his cap into the ground with it. it is never safe to run from a falling tree in a line directly opposite from the course in which it falls, as it sometimes strikes other trees in such a way as to throw the butt from the stump. i have sometimes seen them shoot back in this way with the velocity of lightning half their length. running from a falling tree in the way above alluded to, i knew a man killed in an instant. another reason which should induce choppers or spectators to avoid this manner of retreat is, that the broken limbs frequently rebound, and are thrown back in a direction opposite that in which the tree falls. it reminds one of a routed enemy hurling their missiles, as they retreat, back upon the pursuing foe. i have sometimes seen the air in the region of the tree-tops literally darkened with the flying fragments, small and great, torn from trees in the thundering passage of one of those massive columns to the ground. sometimes they come down like a shower of arrows, as if from the departed spirits of aërial warriors. to retreat safely, one should run in a direction so as to make nearly a right angle with the falling tree. a man by the name of hale, a master chopper, cut a pine which, in its passage down, struck in the crutch of another tree and broke the trunk of the falling one, the top of which pitched back and instantly killed him. if lumbermen do not love the return of the seventh day for its moral purposes, they welcome it for the rest it brings, and the opportunity it affords for various little matters of personal comfort which demand attention. on visiting our winter quarters, one of the first things which might arrest attention, indicating a sabbath in the logging-swamp, would be a long morning nap. dismissing care, they court the gentle spell, until, wearied with the lengthened night, they rise, not, as on other mornings, when their hurrying feet brush the early frosts as they pass to their work, while the lingering night casts back its wasting shadows upon their path. on the sabbath morning they recline upon their boughy couches until the sun has traveled a long way upon his daily circuit. every one feels free to sleep, to lounge, or to do whatever he may choose, with a moderate abatement in behalf of the teamster and cook, whose duties require some seasonable attention on all mornings. breakfast over, each individual disposes of himself as best accords with inclination or interest. there are a few general duties which come round every sabbath, which some, by turns, feel the responsibility of performing. for instance, every sabbath it is customary to replenish the bed with a fresh coat of boughs from the neighboring evergreens. of the healthful and invigorating influence of this practice there is no doubt. then follow the various little duties of a personal character. our red flannel shirts are to be washed and mended, pants to be patched, mittens and socks to be repaired, boots to be tapped and greased, &c. our clumsy fingers, especially if unused to the needle, make most ludicrous and unwoman-like business of patching up our torn garments. letter-writing receives attention on this day, if at all, with no other than the deacon seat, perhaps, for a writing-desk, a sheet of soiled paper, ink dried and thick, or pale from freezing, and a pen made with a jack-knife; letters are dedicated to a wife, it may be, or to a mother by some dutiful son, or to his lady-love by some young swamper. there are some recreations to relieve the monotony of a sabbath in the wilderness. sometimes a short excursion in search of spruce gum; for many a young urchin at home has had the promise of a good supply of this article, to be furnished on the return of the campers. others go in pursuit of timber for ax-helves. as neither the white oak nor walnut grow in the latitude of pine forests in the eastern section of maine, the white ash, rock maple, beech and elm, and sometimes the hornbeam, are in general use. others spend, it may be, a portion of the day in short timber-hunting excursions. where the contiguity of encampments allow it, visits are exchanged among the denizens of the camps. formerly, when sable were more plenty, some one or more proprietors of a line of sable traps would take the opportunity on the sabbath to visit them, as time from the weekly employment could not be spared for this purpose. such traps are very simple in their construction. some thin, flat pieces of wood, cleft from the spruce or fir-tree, are driven into the ground, forming the outline of a small circle some nine inches in diameter, and about the same in height, with an opening of three or four inches on one side, over which is placed the trunk of a small tree some three inches through, running cross-wise, and raised at one end about four inches, supported by a standard spindle, to which a small piece of meat is fastened for bait. the top of the whole is covered with light fir or spruce boughs, to prevent the sable from taking the bait from the top. access to the bait is then had only by passing the head and shoulders into the little door or opening under the pole, when the slightest nibbling at the spindle will bring down the dead-fall and entrap them. these traps occur every few rods, and thus a line or circuit is formed for several miles. wild cats sometimes take the business of tending these sable traps, in which case they tear them to pieces and devour the bait. one such animal will occasionally break up an entire line, and blast the hopes of the hunter till captured himself. although, when circumstances favor it, some portion of saturday is devoted to hauling up camp wood, yet the practice of devoting a few hours of the concluding part of the sabbath is not unfrequent. upon the whole, we conclude that, notwithstanding the necessity of rest and recreation, and the necessary attentions to personal conveniences which the seventh day affords, the season usually wears away rather heavily than otherwise, and monday morning, with its cheerful employments, brings not an unwelcome change. the pleasures of a forest life are, with lumbermen, found rather in the labor performed than the recreations enjoyed. suspension from labor, without the pleasant relief which home privileges afford, leaves a vacancy of feeling not altogether free from _ennui_. the little domestic duties claiming attention--unpleasant, as indeed they are unnatural to the coarser sex--remind them strongly of the absence of _woman_, without whose amiable presence, society, and services man can not enjoy his quota of earthly bliss. a tramp after deer and moose is sometimes taken. we often disturb them in penetrating the deep forests for timber. in such cases they always remove to some more sequestered place, and post themselves for winter quarters again, where we sometimes follow and take them when the condition of the snow renders their flight tardy and difficult. in the summer they roam at large through the forests and on the meadows, where they may often be seen feeding as we pass up the rivers; but in winter they confine themselves to much smaller limits, where they remain during the greater portion of the season. the flesh of the deer forms an agreeable change from our salt provisions. venison is often quite plenty. from the hare and partridge our cook serves a delicious pot-pie. the flesh of the moose and bear are very good. were it not for the unprepossessing appearance of the latter, his flesh would be esteemed before most wild meat. the flesh of a young black bear a year old, if fat, is not easily distinguished, when cooked, from a good pork spare rib. i recollect a ludicrous instance of imposition practiced upon an individual by furnishing him with bear meat for his dinner, while he supposed that he was feasting upon fresh pork. he was known to be exceedingly averse to eating bear meat, and often expressed his disrelish, and even disgust, at the idea. "eat bear's meat? no! i would as soon eat a dog." a bear had been taken by a crew near by; it was fine meat, and it so happened that our anti-bear-eater was at their camp one day, when the cook served up in his best manner some of the flesh. of course he was invited to dine, as lumbermen are always hospitable. on this occasion the invitation was especially urgent, as they "had a nice bit of fresh pork, which had been sent them by the provision-team." our friend ate and praised the nice pork alternately. "fine, very; hadn't had any fresh pork before for nearly a year. it was tender--it was sweet and good." with much effort, the risibility of the jokers was kept in subjection through the meal. many senseless things were said, and every thing seemed to elicit laughter. dinner over. "well, captain, how have you enjoyed your dinner?" "first rate." "do you know that you have been eating bear's meat?" "no!" said he; "that warn't bear's meat, was it?" "yes." he seemed incredulous; but the evidences were at hand; the quarter from which the dinner had been taken was produced. poor fellow! he looked as though he had swallowed a lizard; and, to "finish him up," the long-nailed shaggy paw was produced. he could stand it no longer; but, rushing out of the camp, and throwing himself down upon his hands and knees, he retched as though he had taken a dozen doses of ipecacuanha, while all the rest of the crew were convulsed with laughter at the poor fellow's distress. the moose is the largest species of deer found in the new england forest. their size varies from that of a large pony to the full-grown horse. they have large branching antlers, which grow and are shed every season. the taking of moose is sometimes quite hazardous. the most favorable time for hunting them is toward spring, when the snow is deep, and when the warmth of mid-day melts the surface, and the cold nights freeze a crust, which greatly embarrasses the moose and deer in their flight. "one pleasant morning, six of us started with the intention of taking deer; we had a gun and a large dog. fatigued, at length, with several hours' travel, and meeting with no success, we concluded to give it up, and returned to camp late in the afternoon. having been very intent in our search for game, we had taken little notice of the various courses which we had traveled, and, when the purpose was formed of returning, we found, much to our discomfort, that we were altogether in doubt as to the direction proper to be pursued. however, we were not without our opinions on the subject, though, unfortunately, these opinions differed. we finally separated into two parties, four supposing that the camp lay in a particular direction, while two of us entertained nearly opposite views. the gun was retained by the four, while the dog followed myself and comrade. we had not separated more than five minutes, when the dog started two fine moose. the other party, being within hail, soon joined us in the pursuit. "as the snow was deep, and crusted sufficiently hard to bear us upon snow-shoes, while the moose broke through at every leap, we were soon sufficiently near them to allow a good shot. one of the men approached within a few yards of the hindermost, and fired. the ball took effect, but did not stop him. still pursuing, another ball was lodged in his body, when he turned at bay. it was now our turn to retreat; but, after making a few bounds toward us, he turned and fled again, when we again came up to the charge. i took the gun this time, and approached within fifteen feet of him, and fired. he dropped instantly upon the snow. supposing him dead, we left the spot and pursued the other with all possible dispatch, for there was not a moment to lose, as the fugitive, alarmed by the report of the gun, was redoubling his exertions to effect his escape. the dog, however, soon came upon him and retarded his flight. emboldened in his successful encounter with the other, rover dashed incautiously upon him, but nearly paid the forfeit of his life. the moose gave him a tremendous blow with one of his sharp hoofs, which made him cry out till the woods echoed with his piteous howl. in vain did we try to induce him to renew the encounter. his passion for the chase seemed effectually cooled; so we were obliged to abandon the pursuit, and the more readily, as the day was now quite spent. we returned to dress the one we had shot, but were astonished, on arriving at the place where we left him, to find that he, too, had made his escape. tracking him by a trail of blood which appeared to spirt out at every leap he made, we soon came up with him, and fired again. the ball hit, but only to enrage him the more. five additional bullets were lodged in his perforated body, now making in all nine. having but one shot more, we desired to make it count effectively; so, taking the gun, i approached very near upon one side, and fired at his head. the ball passed directly into one eye and out at the other, thus rendering him completely blind. the last shot caused him to jump and plunge tremendously. he now became furious, and, guided by the sound of our footsteps, would dart at us like a catamount whenever we approached him. we had no ax to strike him down, or to cut clubs with which to dispatch him. we were at a stand what to do. we tried first to entangle him in the deep snow by approaching him, and thus induce him to spring out of the beaten into the untrodden snow; but the moment he found himself out, he would back directly into the beaten path again. "our feelings became very uncomfortable, and now, from pity, we desired to put an end to his sufferings. to see his noble struggle for life, with nine bullets in him, and blind, inspired a painful regard toward him. what to do we knew not. it was really unsafe to approach him so as to cut his throat. we could neither entangle him in the snow, nor bring him down with the small sticks we had cut with our jack-knives. at length we hit upon the following expedient: obtaining a long stiff pole, one end of it was gently placed against his side. we found he leaned against it, and the harder we pushed the more he opposed. uniting our strength, we pressed it as powerfully as we were capable; he resisted with equal strength. while thus pressing, we suddenly gave way, when he fell flat upon his side. before he had time to recover, we sprang upon him, and with a knife severed the jugular vein, when he yielded to his fate. it was nearly two hours from the commencement of our last encounter before we dispatched him. leaving him for the night, we returned to camp, quite overcome with hunger and fatigue. "next morning we went out to bring in our prize. we found the other moose affectionately standing over the dead carcass of her slaughtered companion. manifesting much reluctance to flee, she permitted our approach sufficiently near to afford a good shot, which we were not unwilling to improve; so, raising the fatal instrument to my cheek, i let go. she fell on the spot, and was soon dressed with the other. we took the carcasses into camp, and, after reserving what we wished for our own use, sent the remainder down river to our friends."[ ] [ ] the adventures of a mess-mate. the "bull moose" is a formidable foe when he "gets his dander up," and specially so at particular seasons of the year; then, unprovoked, they will make war on man, betraying none of that shrinking timidity so characteristic of the _cervine genus_. a hunter, who used to put up occasionally over night at our camp, entertained us with the following singular adventure. "once," said he, "while out on a hunting excursion, i was pursued by a 'bull moose,' during that period when their jealousy was in full operation in behalf of the female. he approached me with his muscular neck curved, and head to the ground, in a manner not dissimilar to the attitude assumed by horned cattle when about to encounter each other. just as he was about to make a pass at me, i sprang suddenly between his wide-spreading antlers, bestride his neck. dexterously turning round, i seized him by the horns, and, locking my feet together under his neck, i clung to him like a sloth. with a mixture of rage and terror, he dashed wildly about, endeavoring to dislodge me; but, as my life depended upon maintaining my position, i clung to him with a corresponding desperation. after making a few ineffectual attempts to disengage me, he threw out his nose, and, laying his antlers back upon his shoulders, which formed a screen for my defense, he sprang forward into a furious run, still bearing me upon his neck. now penetrating dense thickets, then leaping high "wind-falls,"[ ] and struggling through swamp-mires, he finally fell through exhaustion, after carrying me about three miles. improving the opportunity, i drew my hunter's knife from its sheath, and instantly buried it in his neck, cutting the jugular vein, which put a speedy termination to the contest and the flight." [ ] old fallen trees. the habits of the moose, in his manner of defense and attack, are similar to those of the stag, and may be illustrated by the following anecdote from the "random sketches of a kentuckian." "who ever saw bravo without loving him? his sloe-black eyes, his glossy skin, flecked here and there with blue; his wide-spread thighs, clean shoulders, broad back, and low-drooping chest, bespoke him the true stag-hound; and none who ever saw his bounding form, or heard his deep-toned bay, as the swift-footed stag flew before him, would dispute his title. list, gentle reader, and i will tell you an adventure which will make you love him all the more. "a bright frosty morning in november, , tempted me to visit the forest hunting-grounds. on this occasion i was followed by a fine-looking hound, which had been presented to me a few days before by a fellow-sportsman. i was anxious to test his qualities, and, knowing that a mean dog will not often hunt well with a good one, i had tied up the eager bravo, and was attended by the strange dog alone. a brisk canter of half an hour brought me to the wild forest hills. slackening the rein, i slowly wound my way up a brushy slope some three hundred yards in length. i had ascended about half way, when the hound began to exhibit signs of uneasiness, and at the same instant a stag sprang out from some underbrush near by, and rushed like a whirl-wind up the slope. a word, and the hound was crouching at my feet, and my trained cherokee, with ear erect and flashing eye, watched the course of the affrighted animal. "on the very summit of the ridge, full one hundred and fifty yards, every limb standing out in bold relief against the clear blue sky, the stag paused, and looked proudly down upon us. after a moment of indecision, i raised my rifle, and sent the whizzing lead upon its errand. a single bound, and the antlered monarch was hidden from my view. hastily running down a ball, i ascended the slope; my blood ran a little faster as i saw the 'gouts of blood' which stained the withered leaves where he had stood. one moment more, and the excited hound was leaping breast high on his trail, and the gallant cherokee bore his rider like lightning after them. "away--away! for hours we did thus hasten on, without once being at fault or checking our headlong speed. the chase had led us miles from the starting-point, and now appeared to be bearing up a creek, on one side of which arose a precipitous hill, some two miles in length, which i knew the wounded animal would never ascend. "half a mile further on, another hill reared its bleak and barren head on the opposite side of the rivulet. once fairly in the gorge, there was no exit save at the upper end of the ravine. here, then, i must intercept my game, which i was able to do by taking a nearer cut over the ridge, that saved at least a mile. "giving one parting shout to cheer my dog, cherokee bore me headlong to the pass. i had scarcely arrived, when, black with sweat, the stag came laboring up the gorge, seemingly totally reckless of our presence. again i poured forth the 'leaden messenger of death,' as meteor-like he flashed by us. one bound, and the noble animal lay prostrate within fifty feet of where i stood. leaping from my horse, and placing one knee upon his shoulder, and a hand upon his antlers, i drew my hunting-knife; but scarcely had its keen point touched his neck, when, with a sudden bound, he threw me from his body, and my knife was hurled from my hand. in hunters' parlance, i had only 'creased him.' i at once saw my danger, but it was too late. with one bound he was upon me, wounding and almost disabling me with his sharp feet and horns. i seized him by his wide-spread antlers, and sought to regain possession of my knife, but in vain; each new struggle drew us further from it. cherokee, frightened at the unusual scene, had madly fled to the top of the ridge, where he stood looking down upon the combat, trembling and quivering in every limb. "the ridge road i had taken placed us far in advance of the hound, whose bay i could not now hear. the struggles of the furious animal had become dreadful, and every moment i could feel his sharp hoofs cutting deep into my flesh; my grasp upon his antlers was growing less and less firm, and yet i relinquished not my hold. the struggle had brought us near a deep ditch, washed by the fall rains, and into this i endeavored to force my adversary, but my strength was unequal to the effort; when we approached to the very brink, he leaped over the drain. i relinquished my hold and rolled in, hoping thus to escape him; but he returned to the attack, and, throwing himself upon me, inflicted numerous severe cuts upon my face and breast before i could again seize him. locking my arms around his antlers, i drew his head close to my breast, and was thus, by great effort, enabled to prevent his doing me any serious injury. but i felt that this could not last long; every muscle and fiber of my frame was called into action, and human nature could not long bear up under such exertion. faltering a silent prayer to heaven, i prepared to meet my fate. "at this moment of despair i heard the faint bayings of the hound; the stag, too, heard the sound, and, springing from the ditch, drew me with him. his efforts were now redoubled, and i could scarcely cling to him. yet that blessed sound came nearer and nearer! oh how wildly beat my heart as i saw the hound emerge from the ravine, and spring forward with a short, quick bark, as his eye rested on his game! i released my hold of the stag, who turned upon the new enemy. exhausted, and unable to rise, i still cheered the dog that, dastard like, fled before the infuriated animal, who, seemingly despising such an enemy, again threw himself upon me. again did i succeed in throwing my arms around his antlers, but not until he had inflicted several deep and dangerous wounds upon my head and face, cutting to the very bone. "blinded by the flowing blood, exhausted and despairing, i cursed the coward dog, who stood near, baying furiously, yet refusing to seize his game. oh! how i prayed for bravo! the thoughts of death were bitter. to die thus in the wild forest, alone, with none to help! thoughts of home and friends coursed like lightning through my brain. at that moment, when hope herself had fled, deep and clear over the neighboring hill came the baying of my gallant bravo! i should have known his voice among a thousand. i pealed forth, in one faint shout, 'on, bravo, on!' the next moment, with tiger-like bounds, the noble dog came leaping down the declivity, scattering the dried autumnal leaves like a whirl-wind in his path. 'no pause he knew,' but, fixing his fangs in the stag's throat, he at once commenced the struggle. "i fell back, completely exhausted. blinded with blood, i only knew that a terrific struggle was going on. in a few moments all was still, and i felt the warm breath of my faithful dog as he licked my wounds. clearing my eyes from gore, i saw my late adversary dead at my feet, and bravo, 'my own bravo,' as the heroine of a modern novel would say, standing over me. he yet bore around his neck a fragment of the rope with which i had tied him. he had gnawed it in two, and, following his master through all his windings, arrived in time to rescue him from a horrible death. "i have recovered from my wounds. bravo is lying at my feet. who does not love bravo? i am sure i do, and the rascal knows it--don't you, bravo? come here, sir!" chapter vi. camp life.--winter evenings.--an evening in camp.--characters.-- card-playing.--a song.--collision with wild beasts.--the unknown animal in a dilemma.--"indian devil."--the aborigines' terror.-- a shocking encounter.--the discovery and pursuit.--the bear as an antagonist.--their thieving propensities.--a thrilling scene in the night.--a desperate encounter with three bears. the winter evenings of camp life are too much abridged in length to allow a long season either for repose or amusement, in consequence of the lateness of the hour in which the men leave work, and the various matters which regularly claim attention. by the time supper is over and the nightly camp-fire built, sleep early invites the laborer to the enjoyment of its soothing influences. and oh! how sweet is that repose! the incumbents of downy beds, nestled within the folds of gorgeous drapery, might earnestly but vainly court it. could you take a peep into our snug camp some evening, you might see one of our number, seated perhaps on a stool in the corner, with a huge jack-knife in his hand, up to his knees in whittlings, while he is endeavoring to give shape and proportions to the stick he is cutting to supply the place of a broken ax-handle. the teamster might be seen driving a heated "staple," with jingling ring, into a new yoke, which is to supply the place of one "old turk" split while attempting, with his mate and associates, to remove an immense pine log from its bed during the day; and as he strikes the heated iron into the perforated timber, the curling smoke, in two little spiral columns, rises gradually and gracefully, spreading as they ascend, until his head is enveloped in a dense cloud. there sits another fellow staring into vacuity, while between his lips, profusely covered with a heavy beard, the growth of a quarter of a year, sticks a stub-stemmed pipe. opening and shutting those ample lips, volumes of smoke roll out, like discharges from the side of a moss-grown battery, the very _beau ideal_ of all that is exquisite in "tobaccoing." bestride the deacon seat, a little removed, sits the cook, with a large pan between his knees, with shirt-sleeves furled, and in the dough to his elbows, kneading a batch of bread to bake for breakfast. the sweat rolls from his half-covered forehead, and, unable to relieve his hands, he applies now one elbow, then the other, to dry up the mizzle from his moistened brow. yonder, at the further end of the camp, in close proximity to the fire, sits a lean, lank little man, with thin lips, ample forehead, and eyes no larger than a rifle bullet, piercing as the sun, poring over the dingy pages of an old weekly, perhaps for the tenth time. songs, cards, or stories possess but little attraction for him. intellectually inclined, but miserably provided for, still the old newspaper is a more congenial companion for him. behind the deacon seat, lounging upon the boughy bed, you may see half a dozen sturdy fellows--the bone and sinew of the crew--telling "yarns," or giving expression to the buoyancy of their feelings in a song, while the whole interior of the camp is lighted with a blazing hard-wood fire, which casts upward its rays through the capacious smoke-hole, gilding the overhanging branches of the neighboring trees. all within indicates health, content, and cheerfulness. card-playing is often resorted to as an evening pastime. if not provided with candles or lamps, the lovers of this recreation are careful to select a store of pitchy knots, whose brilliant combustion relieves them from all the inconvenience of darkness. this is, however, a bewitching amusement, and often proves detrimental to the peace and rest of the whole crew, and injurious also to the interests of employers. the last winter i spent in the logging swamp, there were several packs of cards brought into the encampment by men in my division. i had resolved not to allow card-playing in my camp; but how to accomplish my purpose without inviting other unpleasant results was something to be thought of, as that man makes to himself an uncomfortable birth who incurs the ill will of his comrades in any way, especially in the exercise of authority not strictly related to the business for which they are employed, and by an infringement upon what they esteem their private and personal rights. pointing out a pack of cards, while in camp one afternoon, to the owner of the same, at a moment when he was in a decidedly favorable mood for my purpose, "come, hobbs," said i, "burn them!" at the same time accompanying the request with the best reason i could offer to induce compliance. taking them down, and thoughtfully shuffling them over for a minute, "well," said he, "they are foolish things, aint they?" of course i acquiesced. "here goes!" said he, taking the poker and stirring open the hot bed of live coals, and in they went. the work of extirpation being commenced, he rifled the knapsacks of others belonging to the crew of their packs of cards, and threw them into the fire also, pronouncing deliberately, "high, low, jack, and the game!" i really expected a fuss when the matter should come to the knowledge of the others. they submitted, however, to their bereavement like philosophers. it passed off without any muss being kicked up, though the agent was a little menaced for the liberties he had taken in the matter; but he enjoyed the sympathies of the instigator. loggers, unlike most classes of men, are under the necessity of manufacturing their own songs.[ ] the mariner, the patriot, the soldier, and the lover have engaged the attention of gifted bards in giving rhyme and measure to their feelings; yet they are not without poetical sentiment. the following is inserted as a specimen of log swamp literature, composed by one of the loggers: [ ] i should make one exception; j. g. whittier has lifted his gifted pen for them. the logger's boast. "come, all ye sons of freedom throughout the state of maine, come, all ye gallant lumbermen, and listen to my strain; on the banks of the penobscot, where the rapid waters flow, o! we'll range the wild woods over, and a lumbering will go; and a lumbering we'll go, so a lumbering will go, o! we'll range the wild woods over while a lumbering we go. when the white frost gilds the valleys, the cold congeals the flood; when many men have naught to do to earn their families bread; when the swollen streams are frozen, and the hills are clad with snow, o! we'll range the wild woods over, and a lumbering we will go; and a lumbering we'll go, so a lumbering, &c. when you pass through the dense city, and pity all you meet, to hear their teeth chattering as they hurry down the street; in the red frost-proof flannel we're incased from top to toe, while we range the wild woods over, and a lumbering we go; and a lumbering we'll go, so a lumbering, &c. you may boast of your gay parties, your pleasures, and your plays, and pity us poor lumbermen while dashing in your sleighs; we want no better pastime than to chase the buck and doe; o! we'll range the wild woods over, and a lumbering we will go; and a lumbering we'll go, so a lumbering, &c. the music of our burnished ax shall make the woods resound, and many a lofty ancient pine will tumble to the ground; at night, ho! round our good camp-fire we will sing while rude winds blow: o! we'll range the wild woods over while a lumbering we go; and a lumbering we'll go, so a lumbering, &c. when winter's snows are melted, and the ice-bound streams are free, we'll run our logs to market, then haste our friends to see; how kindly true hearts welcome us, our wives and children too, we will spend with these the summer, and once more a lumbering go; and a lumbering we'll go, so a lumbering we will go, we will spend with these the summer, and once more a lumbering go. and when upon the long-hid soil the white pines disappear, we will cut the other forest trees, and sow whereon we clear; our grain shall wave o'er valleys rich, our herds bedot the hills, when our feet no more are hurried on to tend the driving mills; then no more a lumbering go, so no more a lumbering go, when our feet no more are hurried on to tend the driving mills. 'when our youthful days are ended,' we will cease from winter toils, and each one through the summer warm will till the virgin soil; 'we've enough to eat,' to drink, to wear, content through life to go, then we'll tell our wild adventures o'er, and no more a lumbering go; and no more a lumbering go, so no more a lumbering go, o! we'll tell our wild adventures o'er, and no more a lumbering go." our winter quarters and employments not unfrequently bring us into collision with wild animals of a formidable character. of these the "indian devil," or a species of the catamount, is chief. we often track animals of whom we have never gained sight. passing along one day in pursuit of timber, my attention was arrested by a track of uncommon size and appearance. it was round, and about the size of a hat crown, and penetrated the snow where it would bear me. i noticed where the creature stepped over a large fallen tree about two feet and a half high. a light snow several inches deep covered the log, which he did not even brush with his belly as he passed over it. from the nature of the track, i knew he did not jump. his legs could not have been less than three feet in length. after this discovery, i made my way to where the rest of the crew were at work with right good will. a similar track, of probably this same animal, has been seen by many different persons and parties, at places quite remote from each other, for several winters; but no one, that i am aware of, is satisfied that he has yet been seen, unless, indeed, by two or three lads while on the shore of the grand lake, who were fishing out of holes cut in the ice near the shore. about half a mile from them a long point made out into the lake, running parallel with the shore, which formed the boundary of a deep cove. the ice had become quite weak; still, it bore them with safety. while busily engaged with their fishing-tackle, their attention was suddenly arrested by a loud, splashing noise, as though some one was struggling in the water; and, on looking for the cause, they saw a large animal endeavoring to make the main land, crossing directly from the point toward them. he continued to break in every few rods, when he would spring out again with the agility of a cat. after getting out, he would stand and look round, then venture forward, and break through as before. the description they gave of his appearance was that he looked just like an immense cat; appeared to be about four feet high, and five or six feet long, thick-set about the head and shoulders, resembling somewhat in this particular the bull-dog. his general color was quite like that of a mouse, or, to use the boys' own words, "bluish," with light breast and belly. his tail was very long, reaching down quite to the ice, and curled up at the end; this he moved about just as a cat moves its tail. waiting but a moment to gain this general view, they made for home with all possible dispatch, about one mile distant. several men, with guns and axes, immediately started for the lake, but nothing further was seen of him. the manner in which the ice was broken fully confirmed the statement made by the boys respecting the size of this unknown creature. there is an animal in the deep recesses of our forests, evidently belonging to the feline race, which, on account of its ferocity, is significantly called "_indian devil_"--in the indian language, "the lunk soos;" a terror to the indians, and the only animal in new england of which they stand in dread. you may speak of the moose, the bear, and the wolf even, and the red man is ready for the chase and the encounter. but name the object of his dread, and he will significantly shake his head, while he exclaims, "_he all one debil!_" an individual by the name of smith met with the following adventure in an encounter with one of these animals on the arromucto, while on his way to join a crew engaged in timber-making in the woods. he had nearly reached the place of encampment, when he came suddenly upon one of these ferocious animals. there was no chance for retreat, neither had he time for reflection on the best method of defense or escape. as he had no arms or other weapons of defense, the first impulse, in this truly fearful position, unfortunately, perhaps, was to spring into a small tree near by; but he had scarcely ascended his length when the desperate creature, probably rendered still more fierce by the promptings of hunger, sprang upon and seized him by the heel. smith, however, after having his foot badly bitten, disengaged it from the shoe, which was firmly clinched in the creature's teeth, and let him drop. the moment he was disengaged, smith sprang for a more secure position, and the animal at the same time leaped to another large tree, about ten feet distant, up which he ascended to an elevation equal to that of his victim, from which he threw himself upon him, firmly fixing his teeth in the calf of his leg. hanging suspended thus until the flesh, insufficient to sustain the weight, gave way, he dropped again to the ground, carrying a portion of flesh in his mouth. having greedily devoured this morsel, he bounded again up the opposite tree, and from thence upon smith, in this manner renewing his attacks, and tearing away the flesh in mouthfuls from his legs. during this agonizing operation, smith contrived to cut a limb from the tree, to which he managed to bind his jack-knife, with which he could now assail his enemy at every leap. he succeeded thus in wounding him so badly that at length his attacks were discontinued, and he finally disappeared in the dense forest. during the encounter, smith had exerted his voice to the utmost to alarm the crew, who, he hoped, might be within hail. he was heard, and in a short time several of the crew reached the place, but not in time to save him from the dreadful encounter. the sight was truly appalling. his garments were not only rent from him, but the flesh literally torn from his legs, exposing even the bone and sinews. it was with the greatest difficulty he made the descent of the tree. exhausted through loss of blood, and overcome by fright and exertion, he sunk upon the ground and immediately fainted; but the application of snow restored him to consciousness. preparing a litter from poles and boughs, they conveyed him to the camp, washed and dressed his wounds as well as circumstances would allow, and, as soon as possible, removed him to the settlement, where medical aid was secured. after a protracted period of confinement, he gradually recovered from his wounds, though still carrying terrible scars, and sustaining irreparable injury. such desperate encounters are, however, of rare occurrence, though collisions less sanguinary are not unfrequent. on one occasion, we tracked one of those animals where we had the day before been at work. from appearances, he seemed to have something unusual attached to one of his fore feet, which we judged to be a common steel trap. returning to the camp for the gun and a lunch, two men started in pursuit. they followed him three days before overtaking him. in one place on the route they measured a bound of fifteen feet, which he made to take a rabbit, which he caught and devoured, leaving only small portions of the hide and fur of his victim. from the course traveled, it was evident that he was aware of his pursuers, whom he unquestionably desired to avoid. on the third day they came in sight of him for the first time. no longer retreating before his pursuers, he now turned upon them. aware that they could have but one shot, it being impossible to reload before he would be upon them, they suffered him to approach very near, to make their aim more certain. the forest echoed with the report of the discharge; the shot took effect, and a furious scuffle followed. the snow flew, while the enraged and furious growl and gnashing teeth mingled with the clattering trap, and the echo of the powerful blows inflicted upon his head with the shivered breach of the gun, under which he yielded his life to his superior pursuers. but there is no animal among us with whom encounters are so frequent as the common black bear. their superior strength, the skill with which they ward off blows, and even wrench an instrument from the hand of an assailant, and their tenacity of life, render them really a formidable antagonist. we have sometimes been diverted, as well as severely annoyed, by their thievish tricks. in one instance we were followed several days by one of them on our passage up river, who seemed equally bent on mischief and plunder. the first of our acquaintance with him occurred while encamped at the mouth of a small stream, whose channel we were improving by the removal of large rocks which obstructed log-driving. our camp was merely temporary, so that all our goods were exposed. while we were asleep during the night, he came upon our premises, and selected from the baggage a bundle containing all the winter clothing of one of the men--boots, shaving tools, &c. his curiosity was too great to allow of a far removal of the pack without an examination of its contents; and never did deputy inspector or constable perform a more thorough search. duties on the package were inadmissible; the goods were esteemed contraband, and were accordingly confiscated. the wearing apparel was torn into shreds. there was a pair of stout cow-hide boots, of which he tried the flavor; they were chewed up and spoiled. the razor did not escape his inquisitiveness. whether he attempted to shave we say not, but he tested its palatableness by chewing up the handle. from this position we removed a few miles further up stream, where we were to construct a dam, the object of which was to flow the lake, to obtain a good head of water for spring driving. this job being somewhat lengthy, we erected a more permanent camp for our convenience. a few evenings after our settlement at this point, while all hands were in camp, we heard some one moving about on the roof, where a ten-gallon keg of molasses was deposited. at first it was supposed to be a trick by some one of the crew; but, on looking round, there was no one missing. suspecting with more certainty the character of our visitor, we seized a fire-brand or two, and sallied forth like a disturbed garrison of ants, when we discovered that we were minus a keg of molasses. following in the direction of the retreating thief, we found the keg but a few rods distant, setting on one end, with the other torn out. he evidently had intended a feast, but, intimidated by the fire-brands and the hallooing, he had retreated precipitately into his native haunts; but only, as it would seem, to plan another theft. about two hours afterward, when all was still, a noise was again heard in the door-yard, similar to that of a hog rooting among the chips, where the cook had thrown his potato parings. peering through the crack of the camp door, sure enough, there was bruin again, apparently as much at home as a house-dog. we had a gun, but improvidently had left our ammunition at another place of deposit, about a hundred rods distant. resolved upon chastising him for his insolence in the event of another visit, the lantern was lighted, and the ammunition soon brought to camp. the gun was now charged with powder and two bullets. we waited some time for his return, first removing a strip from the camp door for a port-hole. hearing nothing of him, all hands turned in again. about twelve o'clock at night he made us his third visit in the door-yard, as before, and directly in front of the camp, offering a most inviting shot. creeping softly to the door, and passing the muzzle of the gun through the prepared aperture, our eye glanced along the barrel, thence to a dark object not thirty feet distant. a gentle but nervous pressure upon the trigger, a flash, a sheet of fire, and the very woods shook with the reverberating report, which sent bruin away upon a plunging gallop. the copious effusion of warm blood which spirted on the chips was evidence that the leaden messenger had faithfully done its duty. a portion of his lights were shot away, and dropped to the ground, which convinced us that he was mortally wounded, and that it would not be possible for him to run far. seizing as many fire-brands as could be procured, with axes, and the gun reloaded, all hands dashed into the forest after him, half-naked, just as they had risen from the bed, leaping, yelling, and swinging their fire-brands like so many wild spirits from the regions of fire. guided in the pursuit by the cracking of rotten limbs and the rustling of leaves as he heavily plunged on, we pursued him through a dense swamp. from the increased distinctness with which we heard his step, it was evident we were gaining upon him. soon we heard his labored breathing. just before we overtook him, he merged from the swamp, and with much exertion ascended a slight elevation, covered with a fine growth of canoe birch, where, from exhaustion and loss of blood, he lay down, and suffered us to surround him. the inflammable bark of the birch was instantly ignited all round us, presenting a brilliant and wild illumination, which lent its influence to a most unbounded enthusiasm, while our war-dance was performed around the captured and slain marauder. taken altogether, the scene presented one of the most lively collections of material for the pencil that we have ever contemplated. there were uncommon brilliancy, life, and animation in the group. after dispatching, we strung him up and dressed him on the spot, taking only one quarter of his carcass, with the hide, back to camp. a portion of this was served up next morning for breakfast; but while the sinewy, human-like appearance of the fore leg might have whetted the appetite of a cannibal, a contrary influence was exerted on ours. more sanguinary was the following encounter, which took place in the vicinity of tara-height, on the madawaska river: "a trap had been set by one of the men, named jacob harrison, who, being out in search of a yoke of oxen on the evening in question, saw a young bear fast in the trap, and three others close at hand in a very angry mood, a fact which rendered it necessary for him to make tracks immediately. on arriving at the farm, he gave the alarm, and, seizing an old dragoon saber, he was followed to the scene of action by mr. james burke, armed with a gun, and the other man with an ax. "they proceeded direct to the trap, supplied with a rope, intending to take the young bear alive. it being a short time after dark, objects could not be distinctly seen; but, on approaching close to the scene of action, a crashing among the leaves and dry branches, with sundry other indications, warned them of the proximity of the old animals. when within a few steps of the spot, a dark mass was seen on the ground--a growl was heard--and the confined beast made a furious leap on jacob, who was in advance, catching him by the legs. the infuriated animal inflicted a severe wound on his knee, upon which he drew his sword, and defended himself with great coolness. "upon receiving several wounds from the saber, the cub commenced to growl and cry in a frightful and peculiar manner, when the old she-bear, attracted to the spot, rushed on the adventurous harrison, and attacked him from behind with great ferocity. jacob turned upon the new foe, and wielded his trusty weapon with such energy and success, that in a short time he deprived her of one of her fore paws by a lucky stroke, and completely disabled her eventually by a desperate cut across the neck, which divided the tendons and severed the spinal vertebræ. having completed his conquest (in achieving which he found the sword a better weapon than the ax, the animal being unable to knock it from his hand, every attempt to do so being followed by a wound), he had ample time to dispatch the imprisoned cub at leisure. "during the time this stirring and dangerous scene we have related was enacting, war was going on in equally bloody and vigorous style at a short distance. mr. burke, having discharged his gun at the other old bear, only slightly wounded him; the enraged bruin sprang at him with a furious howl. he was met with a blow from the butt-end of the fowling-piece. at the first stroke the stock flew in pieces, and the next the heavy barrel was hurled a distance of twenty feet among the underwood by a side blow from the dexterous paw of the bear. mr. burke then retreated a few feet and placed his back against a large hemlock, followed the while closely by the bear, but, being acquainted with the nature of the animal and his mode of attack, he drew a large hunting-knife from his belt, and, placing his arms by his side, coolly awaited the onset. "the maddened brute approached, growling and gnashing his teeth, and with a savage spring encircled the body of the hunter and the tree in his iron gripe. the next moment the flashing blade of the _couteau chasse_ tore his abdomen, and his smoking entrails rolled upon the ground. at this exciting crisis of the struggle, the other man, accompanied by the dog, came up in time to witness the triumphal close of the conflict. "two old bears and a cub were the fruits of this dangerous adventure--all extremely fat--the largest of which, it is computed, would weigh upward of two hundred and fifty pounds. we have seldom heard of a more dangerous encounter with bears, and we are happy to say that mr. burke received no injury; and mr. jacob harrison, although torn severely, and having three ribs broken, recovered under the care of an indian doctor of the algonquin tribe." chapter vii. provision teams.--liabilities.--a night in the woods.--traveling on ice.--a span of horses lost.--pat's adventure.--drogers' caravan.-- horses in the water.--recovery of a sunken load.--returning volunteers from aroostook.--description of a log tavern.--perils on lakes in snow-storms.--camping at night.--rude ferry-boats. after the swamps, rivers, and lakes freeze, and the fallen snow has covered the ground, supplies for the rest of the winter and spring operations, consisting of hay, grain, flour, beef, pork, molasses, &c., are hauled on to the ground with horse-teams. in some instances the route extends two hundred and fifty miles from the head of ship navigation. as these routes, for the most part, lay through dense forests, over rough roads, along the frozen channels of rivers, across bleak and expansive lakes, far removed from the fireside and home of the hardy logger, there is something of the _hardships_ of adventure, if not its romance, connected with the experience of these transporting teams during their winter trips. sometimes loaded sleds break down in their passage over the rough forest roads, or horses tire by extra exertion over untrodden snows, and night overtakes the lone teamster, many miles from the abode of any human being, amid frosts and snow, without fire and without comfortable sustenance. detaching his horses, and covering them with their blankets, if he be loaded with hay, he allows them to feed from the load during the night, while, muffled in his coat, he burrows deep in the hay, alternately lulled and aroused by the tinkling of the horses' bells and by the howling of the hungry wolf. sometimes the treacherous ice parts beneath his horses, and the swift current carries them under, hiding them in a moment and forever from his vision. i recollect the occurrence of the following thrilling event. it is customary to travel on ice as far as it makes on the rivers and streams, taking to the shore to pass the open and rapid sections, and then returning to the river and traveling as before. returning homeward, after a trip into the woods with a load of provision, just at nightfall, might have been seen a span of fine horses, measuring off their ten miles an hour with the ease and fleetness of reindeers, upon the smooth surface of one of our eastern rivers far up in the interior. with vision circumscribed by the gathering darkness, and misjudging his position, the driver, quietly seated upon his sled, failed to see the danger in season to check the speed of his horses, when suddenly he plunged into one of those open places in the river where the water ran too rapidly to allow it to freeze. a few rods below the ice closed over again, beneath which the current swept with fearful rapidity. with the teamster still floating upon the half-sunken sled, the horses swam directly down with the current to the edge of the ice below. the moment they reached it, the noble creatures, as if confident of clearing the chilling element at a bound, simultaneously reared, and, striking their fore feet upon the ice, their hinder parts sank in the deep channel, and, falling backward, they were swept beneath the ice, together with the sled attached, and were drowned, while the teamster alone escaped by springing from the sled before it went under. when a team breaks in where the water is stagnant, a deliberate and calculating teamster may succeed in extricating his horses, while a shiftless man will let them drown. a gentleman of my acquaintance harnessed a fine mare into a single sled, loaded with provisions, which he sent by an irishman up into the woods to his logging-camps. while passing the river, the horse broke in, and, after struggling several hours, sank through exhaustion and chill, and was drowned. in giving a brief account of the affair, pat, evidently affected by the disaster, observed, "ah! indade, sir, but she looked at me very wishfully, indade she did, sir!" "but why did you not help her, patrick?" "'dade, sir, an' didn't i put on the whip pretty smartly, sure?" it is quite common for drogers, as they are sometimes called, to form a northern caravan, by congregating together in their up-river tours to the number of twenty, and sometimes thirty teams. some of these are composed of two horses, and others from four to six. company, and mutual assistance in cases of necessity, are the motives which unite them, and the difficulties which they encounter often call into requisition this friendly interference. i was once passing up the penobscot in company with twenty or thirty horse-teams, all loaded with supplies, immediately after a thaw, which had so far wasted the snow that we were obliged to leave the land road, and, at some risk, venture upon the ice, although in many places it was thin, and covered with water to the depth of two feet. it was deemed prudent to form a line with the teams at such distances apart as would subject the ice to the pressure of one team only on a given point, the whole preceded by a man with ax in hand to test its capacity to bear the approaching load. in some instances, where the current was stagnant, the ice was sufficiently strong to bear us for a mile or two without much alteration in our course. in places where the swiftness of the current had prevented the formation of ice of suitable thickness, we were obliged to use much caution, passing from one side of the river to the other to avoid suspicious places, making but little progress in our serpentine path. in this way several miles had been traveled without accident, which induced our pilot to exercise less vigilance, when suddenly the line was broken by the disappearance of one team through the ice. the alarm passed along the line, with the order to "hold up! a team in!" "don't close up; we shall all be in together!" but teamsters are afraid of ice over a running current; indeed, there is imminent danger to life under such circumstances. some reined up; others, taking alarm, made for the shore; others put their horses into the run and passed by; while others, more cool and generous, came to the rescue of the drowning team. it proved to be a pair of our heaviest horses. the load consisted of thirteen barrels of pork, with other lighter articles, the whole team and load weighing over three tons. it was the work of but a few moments to extricate the horses, after disengaging them from their harness. the barrels rolled from the sled, and sank in fifteen feet of water. the most of the teamsters concurred in the opinion that the barrels were not recoverable; but, procuring a long pole, with a sharp pike in the end, i ran it down and stuck it firmly into one of the staves, and raised one barrel with perfect ease to the surface. a rope was thrown around it, by which it was rolled out upon the firm ice. thus one after another was fished up, reloaded, and we were under way again in less than an hour. about noon we stopped to feed the horses and take some dinner on the ice. unloosing the straps which attached the horses to the pole, we proceeded to bait. while thus situated, a company of volunteers, returning from the bloodless boundary war on the aroostook, passed us, who, to amuse themselves, wantonly discharged a volley of musketry, which created a tremendous panic among our horses, causing them to upset several loads, breaking harnesses, and doing other damage, which occasioned considerable delay, and much swearing among the exasperated teamsters. one of our little teamsters was so enraged that he challenged the whole company to fight him. i really believe he would have engaged any one, or any number of them, had they halted. during the first three or four days' travel, particularly up the penobscot, we find taverns at convenient distances for the accommodation of travelers, after which we leave, on some of the up-river routes, all settlements, for the distant and wild locations of the logging-camps. all along these solitary routes, at convenient distances, of late years, log shanties have been erected for the accommodation, principally, of supply-teams, where, during the winter, the temporary inn-holders do a driving business, abandoning the premises when the traveling season is over. [illustration: log tavern in the wilderness.] it may not be uninteresting to take a peep into one of these log taverns. we see here, then, rude walls thrown up of round logs, notched together at the ends--a building about as high as a common one-story house, covered with shingles laid upon ribs only. these are so closely put together that common short shingles may be laid on them quite as well as if the roof were boarded--a plan frequently adopted in new country settlements, where boards are not to be obtained. this building is divided by a partition into two apartments, in one of which, perhaps in the corner, a huge fire-place is constructed of rude stones, to the height of six or seven feet, where a large wooden mantle-bar is thrown across, from which point, with small split sticks, straw, and clay, it is topped out in the fashion of a chimney. this is the cook, eating, sitting, bar, and often the card-playing room, where teamsters, in crowded numbers, enjoy all the luxuries which their circumstances will admit, one of which is a most excellent appetite. the other room is strictly appropriated to sleeping purposes, with births rudely constructed, in tiers one above the other (with a space between the feet and fire), similar to the accommodations on board a vessel, so that in a space seven by thirty feet sixty men may be accommodated with lodging. such a number of men, crowded into an area of so scanty dimensions, might be supposed to suffer inconvenience from confined and impure air; but the ready access which the twinkling starlight and sparkling hoar-frost find to the apartment through the numerous unstopped crevices warrants a more agreeable conclusion. thus sociably, quietly, and snugly ensconced within that rude shelter, enveloped and surrounded with interminable forests, the hours of darkness are passed, while without, the piercing cold causes even the nestling trees to quake as the wings of the wild winter night labor with the furious snow-storm. sometimes a portion of the route lays across large lakes, where the bleak winds pierce, or the dense snow-storm thickens the atmosphere, and obliterates alike the path and the shore from sight. i have known teamsters, while crossing these icy regions, suddenly overtaken by snow-storms so dense as to circumscribe the compass of vision to thirty rods, and to be compelled to wander all day long upon those bleak fields before they were able to find the logging road which formed their egress from the lake. belated at other times, night overtakes them on the ice. in such cases, where it is not deemed prudent to proceed, they find access to the shore, where the thick evergreen forest trees afford some protection from the night winds. here a fire is kindled, some coarse boughs plucked and thrown upon the snow, upon which a buffalo-skin is spread, and with a similar covering they repose, after snugly blanketing their horses. a biscuit of pilot-bread, with a "frizzled" slice of pork, constitute their repast--ten to one if it be not rinsed down with a draught of "fire-water" from the little canteen in the pea-jacket pocket. on some routes early fall trips are made with loads of camp supplies on wheels, over very rough roads, before the rivers and streams freeze. these are crossed upon a raft made of poles or logs capable of bearing a portion only of the load, which is carried over in parcels, according to the capacity or tonnage of the rude ferry-boat; sometimes swimming, and at others transporting the horses singly on the raft. in like manner we manage with our ox-teams, when we take an early start for the scene of our winter operations. river life. part iii. chapter i. "breaking up."--grotesque parading down river.--rum and intemperance. --religious rites profaned.--river-driving on temperance principles. --the first experiment.--a spiritual song. having completed our winter's work in hauling logs, another period commences in the chain of operations, "breaking up," moving down river, and making preparations for "river-driving." the time for breaking up is determined by various circumstances; sometimes an early spring, warm rains, and thawing days render the snow roads impassable for further log hauling. in other cases, when it is the intention to take the teams down river, where lakes and rivers are to be crossed on the route, it is necessary to start before the ice becomes too weak to bear up the oxen. sometimes scarcity of timber renders an early removal necessary, while in those instances where it is concluded to turn the oxen out to shift for themselves, on browse and meadow grass, we haul as long as it can be done, esteeming every log hauled under such circumstances clear gain. breaking up is rather a joyful occasion than otherwise, though camp life, as a whole, is very agreeable. change is something which so well accords with the demands of our nature, that in most cases, when it occurs, its effects are most exhilarating. under such circumstances, after three or four months spent in the wild woods, away from home, friends, and society, the anticipation of a renewed participation in the relations of life, in town and country, creates much buoyancy of feeling. all is good nature; every thing seems strangely imbued with power to please, to raise a joke, or excite a laugh. whatever of value there may be about the premises not necessary for the driving operation, is loaded upon the long sled; the oxen being attached, the procession moves slowly from the scene of winter exploits, "homeward bound," leaving, however, a portion of the crew to make the necessary preparations for river-driving. after several days' travel, the neighborhood of home is reached; but, before the arrival in town, some little preparations are made by the hands for a triumphant entrée. accordingly, colors are displayed from tall poles fastened to the sled, and sometimes, also, to the yoke of the oxen, made of handkerchiefs, with streaming pennants floating on the wind, or of strips of red flannel, the remains of a shirt of the same material, while the hats are decorated with liberal strips of ribbon of the same material, and waists sashed with red comforters; their beards being such as a mohammedan might swear by. thus attired, they parade the town with all the pomp of a modern caravan. the arrival of a company of these teams, ten or a dozen in number, sometimes amounting to forty or fifty oxen, and nearly as many men, creates no little interest in those thriving towns on the river which owe their existence, growth, and prosperity to the toils and hardships of these same hardy loggers. each team is an object of special interest and criticism; and, according to the "condition" of flesh they are found in, so is the praise or discredit of the teamster in command, always making the amount of labor performed and the quality of the keeping furnished an accompanying criterion of judgment. this voluntary review, to the knight of the goad, is fraught with interest, as by the decisions of this review he either maintains, advances, or recedes from his former standing in the profession, and thus it affects not only his pride, but also his purse, as a teamster of repute commands the highest rate of wages. some twenty years since, these arrivals, and also those of the river-drivers, were characterized by a free indulgence in spirituous liquors, and many drunken carousals. grog-shops were numerous, and the dominion of king alcohol undisputed by the masses. liquor flowed as freely as the waters which bore their logs to the mills. hogsheads of rum were drunk or wasted in the course of a few hours on some occasions, and excessive indulgence was the almost daily practice of the majority, even from the time of their arrival in the spring until the commencement of another winter's campaign. i speak now more particularly of employees, though i calculate, as a southerner would say, that many of the employers in those days had experience enough to tell good west india from new england rum. "in , in a population not exceeding four hundred and fifty or five hundred, on the st. croix, three thousand five hundred gallons of ardent spirits were consumed." a distinguished lumberman, whose opinion is above quoted, remarks further, "so strong was the conviction that men could not work in the water without 'spirits,' that i had great difficulty in employing the first crew of men to drive on the river on temperance principles. when i made known my purpose to employ such a gang of men, the answer almost invariably was, 'you may _try_, but, depend upon it, the drive will never come down.' but old men, who had been spurred on to exertion for thirty years by ardent spirits, were forced to acknowledge, when they came down river, that they had never succeeded so well before; and learned, at that late period, that the cause of their stiff joints and premature old age was not wholly on account of exposure to the cold and work in the water, but the result of strong drink." it would be difficult to give an exaggerated sketch of the drunken practices among loggers twenty-five years ago. i recollect that matters were carried so far at milltown, that the loggers would arrest passers-by, take them by force, bring them into the toll-house grog-shop, and baptize them by pouring a quart of rum over their heads. distinctions of grade were lost sight of, and the office of deacon or priest constituted no exemption "pass" against the ordeal, rather the rite profaned. this process of ablution was practiced with such zeal upon their own craft and transient passers-by, that a hogshead of rum was drawn in a short time, running in brooks over the floor. the affair was conducted amid the most boisterous and immoderate merriment--the more distinguished the candidate, the more hearty the fun. but a change has come over, not the spirit of their dreams, but their practices and estimate of such excesses. i doubt whether any portion of society, or class of men whose intemperate habits were so excessive, and whose excuses, at least for a moderate use of liquor, were so reasonable, can be found where the principles of total abstinence have wrought so thorough and complete a change. not that the evil is wholly eradicated, for many still continue its use. but it has now been fully demonstrated that men can endure the chilling hardships of river-driving quite as well, and, indeed, far better, without the stimulus of ardent spirits, and perform more and better-directed labor. at the time alluded to, however, more prominence was given to rum as a necessary part of the supplies than to almost any other article. "the first and most important article," says mr. todd, of st. stephen's, n. b., "in all our movements, from the stump in the swamp to the ship's hold, was _rum_! rum!" to show how truly this one idea ran through the minds of the loggers, i present the following original rum song, illustrating the "spirit of the times," and of the log swamp muse. "'tis when we do go into the woods, drink round, brave boys! drink round, brave boys! 'tis when we do go into the woods, jolly brave boys are we; 'tis when we do go into the woods, we look for timber, and that which is good, heigh ho! drink round, brave boys, and jolly brave boys are we. now when the choppers begin to chop, drink round, &c., when the choppers begin to chop, jolly brave boys, &c.; and when the choppers begin to chop, they take the sound and leave the rot, heigh ho! drink round, &c., and jolly brave boys, &c. and when the swampers begin to clear, drink round, &c., and when the swampers begin to clear, jolly brave boys, &c.; and when the swampers begin to clear, they show the teamster where to steer, heigh ho! drink round, &c., and jolly brave boys, &c. and when we get them on to the sled, drink round, &c., and when we get them on to the sled, jolly brave boys, &c.; and when we get them on to the sled, 'haw! back, bright!' it goes ahead, heigh ho! drink round, &c., and jolly brave boys, &c. then, when we get them on to the stream, drink round, &c., then, when we get them on to the stream, jolly brave boys, &c.; so, when we get them on to the stream, we'll knock out the fid and roll them in, heigh ho! drink round, &c., jolly brave boys, &c. and when we get them down to the boom, drink round, &c., and when we get them down to the boom, jolly brave boys, &c.; and when we get them down to the boom, we'll call at the tavern for brandy and rum, heigh ho! drink round, &c., jolly brave boys, &c. so when we get them down to the mill, 'tis drink round, &c., so when we get them down to the mill, jolly brave boys, &c.; and when we get them down to the mill, we'll call for the liquor and drink our fill, heigh ho! drink, &c., jolly brave boys, &c. the _merchant_ he takes us by the hand, drink round, brave boys! drink round, brave boys! the merchant he takes us by the hand, and '_jolly brave boys are we_;' the merchant he takes us by the hand, saying, 'sirs, i have _goods_ at your command;' but heigh ho! drink round, brave boys, the _money_ will foot up a 'spree.'" chapter ii. river-driving. log-landing.--laborious exposure.--damming streams.--exciting scenes. --log-riding.--fun.--breaking a dry-landing.--a sudden death.-- thrilling scenes on the "nesourdnehunk."--lake-driving.--steam tow-boat.--remarks on lake navigation.--driving the main river.-- union of crews.--substantial jokes.--log marks.--dangers of river-driving.--sad feelings over the grave of a river-driver.-- singular substitute for a coffin.--burial of a river-driver.--a log jam.--great excitement.--a boat swamped.--a man drowned.-- narrow escape.--mode of living on the river.--wangun.--antidote for asthma.--the wangun swamped.--an awful struggle.--the miraculous escape.--driving among the islands.--amusing exertions at identifying. --consummation of driving.--the claims of lumbering business for greater prominence.--the boom. the business of _river-driving_ is not so agreeable as other departments of labor in the lumbering operations, though equally important, and also, in many respects, intensely interesting. the hands left at the camps at the time the team breaks up, to make the necessary instruments for _river-driving_, are soon joined with the addition of such forces as are requisite for an expeditious drive. as in most labor performed there is a directing and responsible head, so is it in river-driving; here, too, we have our "boss." as early as april, and sometimes the last of march, the high ascending sun begins to melt the snow on the south of mountain and hill sides, flowing intervales and lowlands, forming considerable rivers, where at other seasons of the year the insignificant little brook wound its stealthy course among the alders, hardly of a capacity to float the staff of a traveler; but, at the period referred to, by a little previous labor in cutting away the bushes and removing some of the stones in its channel, it is made capable of floating large logs, with the occasional assistance of a dam to flow shoal places. in brook-driving it is necessary to begin early, in order to get the logs into the more ample current of the main river while the freshet is yet up. in some cases, therefore, as a necessary step, the ice in the channel of the brook is cut out, opening a passage of sufficient width to allow three or four logs to float side by side. in forming a landing on the margin of such streams, the trees and bushes are cut and cleared out of the way for several rods back, and a considerable distance up and down, according to the number of logs to be hauled into it. to facilitate the sawing of the logs into suitable lengths for driving, as well as more especially to form bed-pieces upon which to roll them into the brook in the spring, a great many skids are cut and laid parallel with each other, running at right angles to the margin of the stream. on these landings, in the spring, the water is from one to two feet deep, the cause of which is sometimes accounted for from the fact that in the autumn the water is quite low, and the ice, in forming, is attached to the grass and bushes, which prevent it from rising; the result is, that the whole is overflowed in the spring. into the channel thus cut the logs are rolled, as fast as it can be cleared, by shoving those already in down stream, until the brook, for a mile or more, is filled with new and beautiful logs. no part of the driving business is so trying to the constitution, perhaps, as clearing such a landing. it often occupies a week, during which all hands are in the water, in depth from the ankle to the hips, exerting themselves to the utmost, lifting with heavy pries, hand-spikes, and cant-dogs, to roll these massive sticks into the brook channel. the water at this season is extremely chilly, so much so that a few moments' exposure deprives the feet and legs of nearly all feeling, and the individual of power to move them, so that it often becomes necessary to assist each other to climb upon a log, where a process of thumping, rubbing, and stamping restores the circulation and natural power of motion. this effected, they jump in and at it again. when the water is too shallow on any part of a stream to float the logs, dams are constructed to flow the water back, with gates which can be opened and shut at pleasure, and either through the apertures of the gates or sluice-ways made for the purpose, the logs are run. this dam answers the same purpose in raising the water to float the logs below as above, on the brook. shutting the gates, a large pond of water is soon accumulated; then hoisting them, out leaps the hissing element, foaming and dashing onward like a tiger leaping upon his prey. away the logs scamper, reminding one of a flock of frightened sheep fleeing before the wolf. some logs are so cumbersome that they remain unmoved, even with this artificial accumulation of water. in such cases, embracing the moment when the water is at its highest pitch, in we leap, and, thrusting our hand-spikes beneath them, bow our shoulders to the instrument, often stooping so low as to kiss the curling ripples as they dance by. in this way, sometimes by a few inches at a time, and sometimes by the rod, we urge them over difficult places; while, in connection with the annoyance of very cold water, broken fragments of ice mingle in the melée, imposing sundry thumps and bruises upon the benumbed limbs of the enduring river-driver. in some places, on low, swampy land, a body of water accumulates several rods wide, and from three to ten feet deep. here the logs, as if to play "hide and seek," run in among the bushes, giving infinitely more trouble than amusement. under such circumstances, it becomes necessary for the men to keep on the logs most of the time; and as logs roll very easily in the water, and are often extremely slippery, it requires the balancing skill of a wire-dancer to keep on them; and often some luckless wight, whether he will or no, plunges over head and ears into the flood as he is whirled from the back of some ticklish log; and, however unwelcome to himself, no sooner is his head above water than he hears the wild woods echo the jeering laugh of his more fortunate comrades. in other places, where banks are too abrupt to allow the team to pass on to the river, the logs are unloaded and rolled down in one general mass; the first few fall upon the ice, others rolling against them; the main body fall back and accumulate in great numbers. to break or clear such a landing is often very dangerous. while at work prying on the foremost, large masses start suddenly, and often the only way of escape is to spring in advance of the rushing pile and plunge the river. "i saw one poor fellow," said a logger, "hurled into eternity very suddenly while at work on one of those jams. co-operating with others in an attempt to roll a stick from the pile, the main lever gave way, and the stick slipped back. this person used a single hand-spike, holding up the upper end and sallying back. when the log rolled back it caused the hand-spike to spring forward, and, before he had time to relinquish his grasp, it flung him headlong forward, like an arrow from the hunter's bow, down the embankment into the water; when recovered, he was dead. it was supposed that some internal injury was inflicted by the sudden ejectment, which caused him to suffocate more readily in the water. rarely could the man be found his equal in physical energy; but strength opposes no barrier to death." logs are now driven down streams whose navigation for such purposes was formerly regarded as impracticable--some from their diminutive size, and others from their wild, craggy channel. there is a stream of the latter description, called "_nesourdnehunk_," which disembogues into the penobscot on the southwest side of mount ktaadn, whose foaming waters leap from crag to crag, or roll in one plunging sheet down perpendicular ledges between two mountains. on one section of this stream, said to be about half a mile in length, there is a fall of three hundred feet. in some places it falls twenty-five feet perpendicularly. down this wild pass logs are run, rolling, dashing, and plunging, end over end, making the astonished forest echo with their rebounding concussion. it would be a match for "dame nature" to locate a handsome pine-tree beyond the grasp of the logmen. where the eastern hunter pursues the mountain goat, the logger would pursue the stately pine. we have seen them in the deep ravine, on the abrupt hill-top, and far up the rugged mountain side, or peering down from some lofty cliff upon the insignificant animal at its base who is contemplating its sacrifice; a few minutes, and the crash of its giddy plunge is heard, "and swells along the echoing crag," causing the earth to tremble under the stroke of its massive trunk; and if it does not break in pieces, as is sometimes the case, in falling, it will in time find its way to the slip of the saw-mill. the resolution, daring, skill, and physical force of the men engaged in this business can find no rival, to say the least, in any body or class of men whatever. in many cases logs are hauled on to the ice of the lakes, streams, and rivers, instead of being left upon the banks or landing-places. when hauled on to the lakes, they are laid together as compactly as possible, and inclosed in a "boom," which is made by fastening the ends of the trunks of long trees, so as to prevent them from scattering over the lake on the breaking up of the ice. a strong bulk-head or raft is constructed of the logs, with a capstan or windlass for the purpose of warping the whole forward in a calm, or when the wind is ahead. in this operation, two or three men take an anchor into the boat, to which, of course, the warp is attached, when they row out to the extent of the rope, let go the anchor, and haul up by working the windlass. sometimes a tempest breaks up the boom, and the logs are scattered, which gives much trouble, and not unfrequently causes a delay of one year before they reach the mills. on moose-head lake, at the head of the kennebeck, a steam tow-boat has recently been built, which has proved very serviceable to lumbermen in towing rafts to the outlet. probably the time will come when the business of other large lakes in maine will require the services of similar boats. had the same degree of knowledge and interest existed twenty years ago in regard to the application of steam to the various purposes of life that is now manifested, the crystal waters of the beautiful grand lake, at the head of the st. croix, would have been plowed by the prow of some little steamer long ago. but now one great leading motive for such an undertaking is irrecoverably past; the white pines have been mowed by the woodmen's ax; they have disappeared forever, at least in any considerable quantity. still, other interests may arise and create a demand sufficiently promising, in a remunerative point of view, to induce an individual, or joint investment, for the construction of such a boat as may be needed. the grand lake is some twenty-five miles in length from north to south, and from six to eight miles wide at its greatest breadth. an imaginary line, passing lengthwise, constitutes the boundary between maine and new brunswick, the eastern shore being within the limits of her majesty's dominions. settlements to a large extent have already been made on the american side; and when, in the course of time, the other side shall spring into importance, some little commerce may be opened between the two ports, a custom-house be established, &c., so that the places here sketched may constitute a miniature likeness of the two countries, with the broad atlantic between them. however, in reference to the realization of what is here said of steamboats and commerce, we will say with the dutchman, when he spoke prospectively of other matters, "_vell, vell, ve shall see vat ve shall see!_" from lakes and tributary streams, the various parcels of logs cut and drove by different companies issue forth, and form one grand drive on the main river, where the separate crews unite, and make common cause in the driving operation. in other instances one drive may precede another, making the river for miles one general scene of logs and river-drivers. sometimes the foremost logs of one drive, unobstructed, pass on and mingle with what is called the "tail end" of the preceding drive. under such circumstances, if there be any grudge to gratify by the foremost crew, or a substantial joke to be put, such truant logs are run aground, into creeks, in meadow land, among the bushes, and on the shore. a crew of thirty or forty men will take a log belonging to another crew and run it up high and dry on to the land, stand it on end, prop it up, and leave it in that position. the rear crew, on coming up, stimulated by the prank, knock away the props, and throw it down; a score of pikes pierce its sides, when they shove it upon the run perhaps twenty rods to the river again, amid the most vociferous hurrahs and whooping, enough to give one quite an idea of the indian war-whoop. some, perhaps, who may trace these lines may be curious to know how the logs of one party can be distinguished from those of another. the answer is, precisely as one farmer distinguishes his sheep from those of his neighbor by the particular mark they bear, each differing in some particular from every other. a representation of these marks, which are cut in the side of the log, would remind one of the letters or characters of the chinese. no employment that i am aware of threatens the life and health more than river-driving. many a poor fellow finds his last resting-place on the bank of some wild stream, in whose stifling depths his last struggle for life was spent; where the wild wood skirts its margin--where, too, the lonely owl hoots his midnight requiem. i have visited many spots that were, from facts called up by retrospection, lonely and painfully silent, but have never been so spell-bound, so extremely oppressed with a feeling of sadness, as while standing over the little mound which marked the resting-place of a river-driver on the banks of a lonely stream, far away from the hearth of his childhood and the permanent abodes of civilization. the silent ripple of the now quiet stream (for the spring floods were past), the sighing of the winds among the branches of trees which waved in silence over the unconscious sleeper, rendered the position too painful for one predisposed to melancholy. when in those wild regions we have the misfortune to lose one of our number, after the body is recovered, we place it in a coffin composed of two empty flour barrels. one is passed over the head and shoulders, the other receives the lower extremities, when the two are brought together and fastened, his grave-clothes generally being some of his common wearing apparel. seldom, if ever, does the voice of prayer rise over their bier under these circumstances; in silence the corpse is committed to its rude burial, while now and then a half-suppressed sigh is heard, and the unbidden tears steal down the sunburned cheeks of his manly associates. events of this kind generally come suddenly, though, when in dangerous circumstances, are often anticipated. after such an occurrence, an air of sobriety pervades the company; jokes are dispensed with, the voice of song is hushed, and for several days the deportment of the men is characterized with a degree of cautiousness unusual, except when reminded by some such impressive example of the frailty and uncertainty of human life. but with most the impression soon wears off, and their accustomed cheerfulness is regained; their exertions marked with the same daring as before the accident, or as though a life had never been lost in the business. lower down the river, in the vicinity of new settlements, the usual ceremonies on funeral occasions are practiced when an itinerant clergyman chances to pass that way. the following notice of such an occurrence was cut from the bangor courier: "passing into the town of passadumkeag late one evening during the past summer, a crowd had gathered in the street. it proved to be the funeral of a river-driver. his body had been taken from the water and shrouded in the open air. many of the sympathetic villagers were there; and a pious elder, who chanced that way, breathed a prayer over his remains before they were borne to their final place of rest." burial of a river-driver. "they drew him from his watery bed, and shrouded him with kindly care; at ev'n his humble bier was spread, and o'er it rose the voice of pray'r; his only pall night's sable damp, the stars of heav'n his funeral lamp. they bore away that youthful form, and laid it in the humid grave, that yestermorn with life was warm, and launch'd upon the dancing wave with jocund voice, and hopes as bright as stirr'd beneath that morning's light. his oar with nervous arm he plied, nor shrank from dangers gath'ring fast, struggling against that treacherous tide, his stout heart braves it to the last; till, spent his strength, and dim his eye, his oar and skiff float idly by. far distant lies the home he left, and side by side an aged pair, unconscious of their hopes bereft, breathe now his cherish'd name in pray'r; their eyes with watchfulness grow dim: oh! vainly will they wait for him! a fair young maid, with pensive face, looks forth upon the silent night, her heart sweet memories doth trace, till future years glow in their light. alas! for life's all changeful scene, how soon must perish that fond dream for him on whom her thoughts doth pore; his hopes and schemes of earth are o'er!" brook-drives are, as has before been remarked, usually distinct parcels of logs belonging to an individual or company. these various parcels are often thrown together in one mass on the ample current of the main river, to the number of twelve or thirteen thousand pieces; in which case the different crews unite and make common cause. as the water rises suddenly, and falls as rapidly on the river, by which, in the first instance, many logs run upon intervale and meadow land, or upon high rocks and ledges, and, in the other case, from the rapid decline of water, there is necessarily much activity called for to clear such logs from the position in which they are placed, else they must be left behind, or require great physical exertion to disengage and bring them on with the rest. a steady current or pitch of water is preferable to one either rising or diminishing, as, when rising rapidly, the water at the middle of the river is considerably higher than at the shores--so much so as to be distinctly perceived by the eye of a spectator on the banks, presenting an appearance like a turnpike road. the lumber, therefore, is always sure to incline from the center of the channel toward either shore. on the falls, and the more difficult portions of the river, sometimes immense jams form. in the commencement, some unlucky log swings across the narrow chasm, striking some protruding portions of the ledge, and stops fast; others come on, and, meeting this obstruction, stick fast also, until thousands upon thousands form one dense breast-work, against and through which a boiling, leaping river rushes with terrible force. who that is unaccustomed to such scenes, on viewing that pile of massive logs, now densely packed, cross-piled, and interwoven in every conceivable position in a deep chasm with overhanging cliffs, with a mighty column of rushing water, which, like the heavy pressure upon an arch, confines the whole more closely, would decide otherwise than that the mass must lay in its present position, either to decay or be moved by some extraordinary convulsion. tens of thousands of dollars' worth lay in this wild and unpromising position. the property involved, together with the exploits of daring and feats of skill to be performed in breaking that "jam," invest the whole with a degree of interest not common to the ordinary pursuits of life, and but little realized by many who are even familiar with the terms _lumber_ and _river-driving_. in some cases many obstructing logs are to be removed singly. days and weeks sometimes are thus expended before the channel is cleared. in other cases a single point only is to be touched, and the whole jam is in motion. to hit upon the most vulnerable point is the first object; the best means of effecting it next claims attention; then the consummation brings into requisition all the physical force, activity, and courage of the men, more especially those engaged at the dangerous points. [illustration: river drivers breaking a jam.] from the neighboring precipice, overhanging the scene of operation, a man is suspended by a rope round his body, and lowered near to the spot where a breach is to be made, which is always selected at the lower edge of the jam. the point may be treacherous, and yield to a feeble touch, or it may require much strength to move it. in the latter case, the operator fastens a long rope to a log, the end of which is taken down stream by a portion of the crew, who are to give a long pull and strong pull when all is ready. he then commences prying while they are pulling. if the jam starts, or any part of it, or if there be even an indication of its starting, he is drawn suddenly up by those stationed above; and, in their excitement and apprehensions for his safety, this is frequently done with such haste as to subject him to bruises and scratches upon the sharp-pointed ledges or bushes in the way. it may be thought best to cut off the key-log, or that which appears to be, the principal barrier. accordingly, he is let down on to the jam, and as the place to be operated upon may in some cases be a little removed from the shore, he either walks to the place with the rope attached to his body, or, untying it, leaves it where he can readily grasp it in time to be drawn from his perilous position. often, where the pressure is direct, a few blows only are given with the ax, when the log snaps in an instant with a loud report, followed suddenly by the violent motion of the "jam;" and, ere our bold river-driver is jerked half way to the top of the cliff, scores of logs, in wildest confusion, rush beneath his feet while he yet dangles in air, above the rushing, tumbling mass. if that rope, on which life and hope hang thus suspended, should part, worn by the sharp point of some jutting rock, death, certain and quick, would be inevitable. the deafening noise when such a jam breaks, produced by the concussion of moving logs whirled about like mere straws, the crash and breaking of some of the largest, which part apparently as easily as a reed is severed, together with the roar of waters, may be heard for miles; and nothing can exceed the enthusiasm of the river-drivers on such occasions, jumping, hurraing, and yelling with joyous excitement. such places and scenes as are thus sketched may be found and witnessed on most rivers where lumber is driven. referring to an item of experience on a drive down the mattawamkeag, says a logger, "our drive consisted of about thirteen thousand pieces, with a crew of thirty-two men, all vigorous and in the prime of life. out of such a number, exposed as we were to the perils attendant upon the business, it was a question which we sometimes inwardly pondered, who of our party may conclude the scenes of mortal life on this drive? "we commenced about the th of march to drive, while snow, and ice, and cold weather were yet in the ascendant. the logs were cleared from the lake and stream of baskahegan in fifty days, which brought us into the mattawamkeag. twelve miles down this river, below the junction of baskahegan, we came to slugundy falls. there the water passes through a gorge about fifty feet wide, with a ledge on either side, making a tremendous plunge, and in immediate proximity a very large rock stands a little detached from its ledgy banks. there the whole body of our logs formed an immense jam, and such a mass of confusion as then presented itself beggars description. logs of every size were interwoven and tangled together like heaps of straw in 'winnow,' while the water rushed through and over them with a power which seemed equal to the upturning of the very ledges which bound it. we paused to survey the work before us, calculating the chances of success, of life and death. we knew the dangers attending the operation; that life had on former occasions been sacrificed there, and that the graves of the brave men who had fallen were not far distant; and we remembered that we too might make with them our final resting-place. the work was, however, commenced; and after five days incessant application, mutually sharing the dangers incurred, we made a clean sweep of this immense jam without accident. a short distance below are gordon falls, at which place there is a contraction of the channel, with high ledges on either hand, a straight but rapid run, with a very rough bottom, at once difficult and dangerous to navigate or drive. here logs to a greater or less extent always jam, the number varying according to the height of the freshet. this place we soon passed successfully. logs, 'wangun' and all, were soon over, excepting one empty boat, which two brothers, our best men, in attempting to run, 'swamped' and capsized; in a moment they both mounted upon her bottom, and were swiftly passing along the dashing river, when the boat struck a hidden rock, and the foremost one plunged headlong into the boiling waves. being an active man, and an expert swimmer, we expected to see him rise and struggle with the tide which bore them onward; but, to our amazement and sorrow, we saw no more of him until four days after, when his corpse was discovered some distance below the place of this sad accident. at the foot of the falls a small jam of logs made out into the channel; several of the men ran out upon this to rescue the other, who had also lost his footing on the boat. he passed close to the jam under water, when one of the crew suddenly thrust his arm down and seized him by the hair of his head, and drew him to land. on recovering from the shock which he had sustained in his perilous passage, and learning that his brother was drowned, he blamed the crew for not permitting him to share the same fate, and attempted to plunge again into the river, but was restrained by force till reason once more resumed her sway. the body of the other received the humble attentions usual upon such interments, as soon as a coffin could be procured. not two hours previous to this accident, this individual, taking one of the crew with him, visited the grave of a fellow-laborer near by; left the spot, launched his frail boat, and lay down the next hour in a river-driver's grave." fourteen days from this time we drove our logs to the boom, having passed a distance of only one hundred and thirty miles in ninety days. the mode of living on these driving excursions is altogether "itinerant," and really comfortless, for the most part. a temporary shelter where night overtakes them is a luxury not always enjoyed. often nothing is above them but the forest's canopy, and beneath them the cold earth, it may be snow, with a slight bed of coarse boughs, over which a blanket is spread, and generally a large fire is kept burning through the night. days and nights, without intermission, are often passed without a dry shred to the back. this is being "packed;" and, if not a "water cure," it is being water-soaked in earnest. it would not be surprising if rheumatism were entailed upon the river-driver as a consequence of such exposure; yet i have known men to enjoy better health under these circumstances than under almost any other. as an instance, i have seen a man passing sleepless nights with asthma at home, now on the bed, then on the floor or reclining on a chair, struggling for a free respiration until his very eyes would start from their sockets. i have known such a man exchange his position for the exposures peculiar to log-driving, and never for once suffer from this distressing complaint during the whole campaign, but, on returning to the comforts of home, experience an immediate relapse. from the foregoing account, which is really believed to come short of the reality, the reader will be enabled to form some estimate of the dangers, hardships, and deaths encountered by thousands in the lumbering operations--a business which is hardly supposed to possess any peculiarities of incident or adventure above the most common pursuits of life. how little are the generality of mankind disposed to consider as they should, that for much which contributes to their comfort and ease, many a hardship has been endured and multitudes of individuals have been sacrificed. the camping utensils for river-driving, with provisions, are moved along day by day, according to the progress made by the drive, so that for the most part each night presents a new location, with the usual preparations. the boats appropriated for the removal of the whole company, apparatus, and provisions, when loaded, are called "_wanguns_," an indian word signifying bait, and, when thus appropriated, means bait or provision boats. among the dangers to be incurred, where both life and property are hazarded, is that of "running the wangun"--a phrase perfectly understood on the river, but which the uninitiated will better understand when i say that it means the act of taking these loaded bateaux down river from station to station, particularly down quick water. this is a business generally committed to experienced watermen, especially when a dangerous place is to be passed, as to "swamp the wangun" is often attended with not only the loss of provisions and utensils, but also life. from this fact, the circumstance is always regarded with interest by all hands, who watch the navigators in their perilous passage with no ordinary or unnecessary solicitude. on one occasion two active young men put off from the shore with the "wangun," to make the passage of some quick water just at the head of a fearful fall, where, as was customary, the whole party were to be carried by. in passing a rock, where the water formed a large whirlpool, the boat, on striking it, instantly capsized. one of the men, being an expert swimmer, told his comrade to take hold of the back of his vest, and he could swim with him to the shore; but the current carried them so swiftly toward the falls that it became necessary for the swimmer to disengage himself from his companion, who clung to him with a death-grasp. his efforts to effect a separation were unsuccessful, and every moment they were carried nearer to the fatal falls. suddenly sinking in the water, the swimmer contrived to turn round and face his drowning friend. drawing up his legs, and bracing his feet against his companion, he gave a sudden and powerful kick, which disengaged him. then rising to the surface, after this most painful act, to which he was impelled from dire necessity, he struck for the shore, and barely reached it in time to save himself from the sad fate that awaited his unfortunate associate, who, poor fellow, still clinging with a death-grasp to the shred of garment which was rent from his companion in the struggle, was carried over the falls, and then, passing under a jam of logs, floated down the river several miles, where his body was found, and interred on the banks of the penobscot. i have often passed the spot where he sleeps. the green grass waves in silence over his grave, and now the plow of the husbandman turns the greensward at his side, where once the forest trees majestically waved over his rude bier. the following instance of the remarkable escape of a river-driver was related by one who witnessed the affair. i think it happened on the androscoggin. among the crew there and then engaged was a young man who prided himself upon his fearlessness of danger; and, to maintain the character he thus arrogated to himself, would unnecessarily encounter perils which the prudent would shun. his frequent boastings rendered his society not a little unpleasant, at times, to the less pretending; and although this dislike was not so great as to lead them to rejoice in seeing him suffer, yet an event which might be likely to cool his courage would not have been unwelcome to the crew. on one occasion he ventured upon a jam of logs just above a rolling dam, over which the spring freshets poured one vast sheet of water, plunging several feet perpendicularly into a boiling cauldron. the jam started so suddenly that he was precipitated with the logs over this fearful place, where not only the fall and under-tow threatened instant death, but the peril was imminent of being crushed by the tumbling logs. no one really expected to see him come out alive, but, to our surprise, he came up like a porpoise, and swam for the shore; but the swift current swept him down, and carried him under a jam of logs which formed below the dam. from previous exertion and exhaustion, we thought this must finish the poor fellow, and we really began to forget his faults, and call to remembrance whatever of virtue he had manifested. soon a dark object was seen to rise to the surface immediately below the jam. it was our hero, who, elevating his head and striking forward with his arms, swam with a buoyant stroke to a small island just below, where he landed in safety, having sustained no injury, and without having experienced any abatement of his former daring. seemingly there was not one chance in a thousand for the life of a man making such a fearful voyage. this circumstance brings to mind a poetical sentiment i have somewhere read on the ways of providence in the disposal of human life: "an earthquake may be bid to spare the man that's strangled by a hair." men often lose their lives where we have least reason to expect it, and are as often spared, perhaps, where we see no grounds of hope for them. thus physicians may sometimes be censured as unskillful when they lose a patient, while in fact god has fixed the bounds of mortal life; or be praised for skill when their success is but apparent, while to the creator's purposes alone are we to look and give credit for such deliverances. river-drivers usually eat four times a day--at least this practice obtains on the penobscot--viz.: at five and ten o'clock a.m., and at two and eight p.m. after the two o'clock meal, when the drive on the main river is under successful headway, the camp-ground is forsaken, the tent struck, and the wangun is run as far down river as it is thought the drive will reach by night, where arrangements are made, as usual, for the crew, by the cook and "cookee," as his assistant is called. it may happen that the drive does not progress according to the calculations of the cook, and a short row down river is necessary to reach the wangun. between the mouth of the piscataquis and oldtown, a distance of twenty or twenty-five miles, are numerous beautiful islands, some of them large, and generally covered with a heavy growth of hard-wood, among which the elm abounds. when the logs arrive at this point, many of the encampments are fixed upon these islands. as the sun sinks behind the western hills, the lengthened shadows of the beautiful island forests shoot across the mirrored river, casting a deep shade, which soon disappears amid the denser curtain of an advanced evening, with which they blend. the roar of rushing waters is over, and the current glides smoothly on. no sound is heard but the echo of the merry boatmen's laugh, and of voices here and there on the river, with now and then the shred of a song, and the creaking and plashing of oars. while thus passing down, as the boats turn a sudden bend in the river, a dozen lights gleam from the islands, throwing their lengthened scintillations over the water. now the question goes round, "which is our light?" "there's one on the east side!" "yes, and there's another on sugar island!" "and there's one on hemlock!" says a third. "why the d--l hadn't they gone to bangor, and done with it?" "wangun no. , ahoy!" shouts the helmsman, a little exasperated with fatigue and hunger. now, while all the rest of the cooks remain silent, no. cook responds in turn. another calls out the name of their particular log-mark: "blaze belt, ahoy!" "where in thunder are you?" "blaze belt, this way, this way!" comes echoing from hemlock island, and away the blaze belt bateau rows with its merry-making crew. thus each crew, in turn, is finally conducted to its respective camp-fire. the prospect of a release from the arduous labors on the drive at this point of progress raises the thermometer of feeling, which imparts a right merry interest to every thing. like sailors "homeward bound," after a three or nine months' cruise, and within one day's sail of port, relaxation and pastimes only are thought and talked of. the mine of song and story is opened, and the rarest specimens of match songs and "stretched" stories are coined and made current by the members of the different crews. the "smartest team," "chopper," "barker," "the largest tree," "the biggest log," "the greatest day's work," bear or moose story, the _merits_ of crews, teamsters, "bosses," cooks, and swampers, falls and rapids, streams and rivers, all, all come up as themes of converse, song, and story. there is less hurrying in the morning now than in the former part of the driving; let the water rise or fall, it is all the same thing at this point, for the driver has reached the ample channel of the river, where neither falls or rapids occur. a day, and the work is consummated--'tis done! the crews are disbanded: they disperse, some to their homes and farms; some to idleness and recreation; some to hire in the mills to saw the logs thus run; others to take rafts of boards to the head of tide navigation, where hundreds of vessels are in waiting to distribute the precious results of the lumberman's toil to the thousand ports of the atlantic and pacific coasts, where the sound of saws, planes, and hammers of a million house-wrights, cabinet-makers, carpenters, coopers, and jobbers make the air vocal with the music of cheerful labor, giving bread to the millions, wealth to thousands, and comfort and convenience to all. for this branch of human industry we set up a claim, in point of _rank_, not yet awarded to it by the world. we claim for it greater prominence as a source of wealth--greater respect on the ground of the talent and skill concentrated by the prime operators--greater deference for it as a business--for the endurance, energy, and courage of the thousands of hardy freemen who engage in it, and greater interest from the amount of substantial romance and adventure in the "life among the loggers." while it is the professed object of this volume faithfully to portray all the points alluded to, i am nevertheless impressed with the idea that no point which i have treated comes so far short of the reality as the attempt to picture the romance of the business. the boom, which constitutes the general receptacle of all logs, is worthy a few lines of observation. on the penobscot it stretches up the side of the river in the vicinity of numerous islands, whose location is peculiarly favorable; the boom-sticks run from one island to another, and, where the distance is too great, a pier is sunk--a square frame of stout timber filled with stones. these piers sometimes span the whole river, united by the boom-sticks. this is true of the main boom on the st. croix. on the penobscot it stretches up the river about two miles; at the upper end there being a shear boom, which swings out to intercept and turn the logs floating down the river into its ample embrace. the boom corporation, on the penobscot, is regulated by legislative enactments, and all logs running into it, or within the limits of its charter, are subject to its laws and regulations. its bounds embrace a section of the river six miles in length, and to the care of all logs coming within its limits the agent is obligated to give his attention, and the company responsible. it is the duty of the boom-master, with the men under him, to raft the logs of each individual in parcels by themselves previous to their delivery for the mills, guided in his selection by the particular marks cut on the logs, for which service and safe-keeping the owner or owners of the boom receive thirty-three cents per m. feet, board measure, which makes the property of the boom very valuable. in addition to this, every log found in the boom without a mark is a "prize log." among other duties devolving on the boom agent is to inspect, personally, every raft of logs, setting down the number and mark in a memorandum kept for the purpose. this course of management protects each log-owner's property from plunder, as, in case any and all persons were indiscriminately allowed to raft out logs, the temptation might prove too strong, in some cases, to regard with due honesty logs bearing marks of a different character. besides these main booms, there are many lesser ones, up and down the river, subject to no special legislation or law except the will of the owner. these observations relate chiefly to the penobscot and st. croix rivers. of the rules and regulations of similar corporations on other rivers i am uninformed, but it is to be presumed that they are much the same, in general. chapter iii. observations on the st. croix river.--boundary line.--pine timber. --agriculture in the interior.--youthful associations with grand lake.--traditionary name of grand lake.--lake che-pet-na-cook.-- rise of eastern branch st. croix.--lumbering prospects.--hemlock. --reciprocal relations of the lumber trade between americans and provincials.--the machias rivers.--origin of name.--character of soil.--lumber resources and statistics.--west machias.--narraguagues river, curious definition of.--capacity of stream.--statistics.-- union river.--observations on its lumbering interests.--mills in franklin. having in the foregoing pages given brief sketches of some of the most interesting _trees_ known to us, devoting considerable attention to the white pine, and the life and adventures of lumbermen, the concluding pages of this book will consist of brief sketches of the rivers of maine and new brunswick, and such statistics as to the extent of the lumbering operations on each river as may interest the curious in such matters. the mschoodiac, more generally known as the st. croix, constitutes the first link in the boundary between maine and the province of new brunswick. the name by which this river is more generally known is st. croix, which is probably of french origin. the original and indian name is mschoodiac. an intelligent indian, belonging to the penobscot tribe, to whom i am indebted for the signification of the original names which our rivers bear, informed me that the signification of mschoodiac was, "burned land river," "open space," or "wide prospect river," thus deriving its name from some peculiarity in the country along its borders. probably, at some period anterior to the white man's knowledge of our western world, a section of forest adjacent to some part of the river was destroyed by fire, originating perhaps in the torch of some invading tribe as they laid waste the wigwams of their discomfited enemies, or from the embers of the little fire kindled by the hungry hunter to cook his hurried meal. in process of time, the principal part of a forest, withered and destroyed by such a devastating scourge, would fall to the ground, opening wide prospects where densely-compacted forest trees once completely circumscribed the view. but the river may have derived its name from a circumstance of still earlier date, viz., the existence of immense fields of _meadow_ land, which abound more or less in the whole region lying about the st. croix, often affording the voyager an unobstructed view for miles up and down the stream. in former years vast quantities of this wild grass were cut by lumbermen for the subsistence of oxen and horses during their winter operations. the st. croix has two branches, the east and west; the latter, at its source, is contiguous to the head waters of the machias river in the west, while the former, being of more importance and greater magnitude, stretches far to the north to the lakes, whence is its source. of these bodies of water mention may be made of grand lake in particular, which is about twenty-five miles long by eight wide at its greatest extent, romantically diversified in the northern part with beautiful islands, deep coves, and far-reaching points of land, covered with dense and rather undersized trees. the shores, east and west, are composed for the most part of immense granite rocks, rising very abruptly on the southwest to a considerable elevation, covered with a heavy growth of majestic pine, hemlock, and spruce-trees. beautiful white sand beaches, which run outward with a very gradual descent for many rods into the lake, afford a most luxurious bathing-ground, where probably the young savages of former generations gamboled and indulged in aquatic sports. not many years since, an unbroken forest stretched abroad over a vast area of country, of which this lake formed a central point. the pervading silence, which rested like night over this vast wilderness, was only broken by the voice of the savage, and the discordant howlings of wild beasts. but within a few years the ax of the pioneer has leveled large tracts of forest, and thus opened the virgin soil to the sun's germinating rays, so that now may be seen skirting the shores of the lake, north and northwest, cultivated fields, relieving the solitude which once reigned there. the gray-haired red man of past generations knew this lake by the name madongamook, which signified "great grandsires," and owes its origin to the following circumstance: from time immemorial it is said that some of the aborigines made the immediate vicinity of this lake's outlet a permanent annual "setting-down place," or head-quarters. here their ancestors gathered around the council-fire for uncounted generations. hence this sheet of water was called great-great-grandsire's lake, of which grand lake is an abridgment. the author entertains many pleasant reminiscences of former visits to this lake. to use the language of the red man, he has spent many pleasant "moons" on the shores of madongamook, paddled with the indian hunter in his tiny birch over its silver waters, chased wild game through its forest confines, and flung from its transparent depths the delicious trout. indians affirm that there is in these waters a great fish, "all one big as canoe," a sort of fresh-water whale. but it is time to proceed on our down-river trip. so, leaving the outlet of grand lake, and passing south about two miles across a "carrying-place," we strike the head of another lake, called _che-pet-na-cook_, into which the surplus waters of the former lake pass. the name by which this lake is designated is said to signify _hilly pond_ or _lake_. in form it is long and narrow, resembling a deep, massive river. that peculiarity from which its name is derived is strikingly prominent. a range of abrupt and elevated ridges rises suddenly from its western shore, covered with a close, heavy growth of trees, principally spruce. one peak of the ridge rises several hundred feet from the surface of the lake, which is called "_spruce mountain_." after mid-day, a section of this mountain ridge, so dense and frowning as to resemble a thunder-cloud, casts a cavernous shade, like a misty pall, over the surface of its waters, which seem to lay with prostrate fear at its base, imparting an oppressive solemnity over the scenery. at the foot of this lake, which is between twenty and thirty miles long, the east branch of the st. croix takes its rise. from this point it passes through a rocky channel for the most part, occasionally flowing through a section of meadow or intervale land until it reaches baring, a distance of some fifty miles, where for the first time it meets with a formidable barrier to its hitherto wild and unrestrained progress in the character of a "_dam_." passing this through its various avenues, it flows on to milltown, which occupies both sides of the river, and includes both the english and american villages. between this place and the head of ship navigation, some two miles distant, the channel is _dammed_ several times on a succession of falls, where are numerous saw-mills; and, finally, after having leaped a thousand rocky precipices above, and struggled through as many gates and sluice-ways below, it quietly flows on to the passamaquoddy bay, where its restless waters find repose in the bosom of the atlantic ocean. in regard to the lumbering resources on this river, i believe it is generally admitted that the supply of pine is comparatively small, the principal part having already been brought to market; and although the territory belonging to this river is large, still its resources are curtailed by the proximity of the head waters of the st. john, penobscot, and machias rivers. the comparative scarcity of pine timber has induced the manufacture of a much larger proportion of spruce than formerly; still it is presumed that the same amount of pine lumber now annually cut may continue to be for years to come. should hemlock come into more general use, the resources of the lumbermen will be greatly augmented, as timber of this kind abounds on the st. croix. and why may not this be the case? for many purposes hemlock lumber is preferred to pine. a gentleman in bangor informed the writer that he had, from choice, made use of hemlock boards for nice floors to a residence recently built for himself, esteeming it richer in color, less liable to indentation, and of greater durability. with the exception of _pine_, the resources for lumber on this river are still very considerable, and must continue to be for many years, unless sweeping fires shall blacken and wither the beautiful forests which now adorn the interior. vast tracts of timber land have already been destroyed by fire on the territory belonging to this river, as the blanched trunks of standing trees, and barren hill country surrounding baileyville, baring, calais, and st. stephen's, most painfully indicate, greatly marring the beautiful scenery which once adorned the valley through which the river flows. lumber manufactured on this river may be considered as both english and american products; still, by common concurrence, and not strictly in accordance with revenue regulations, it is shipped indiscriminately. the manufacture of the english side of the river is received on board american vessels and shipped to the states, and the lumber manufactured on the american side shipped on board english vessels and taken to the english markets duty free. for the most part, the firms who conduct the lumbering business on the st. croix are of great respectability; several of them are very wealthy. the following table[ ] of estimates has been gathered from the most reliable sources; and, although mathematical exactness is not pretended, still it is believed that the calculations here presented approach the truth sufficiently near to give the reader a very satisfactory view of the _extent_ of the lumbering operations on the boundary river: +------------------------------+------------------+-------------+ | |english.|american.| average | |no. of saw-mills | | = | price | |no. of lath machines | . | per m. | |------------------------------|------------------|-------------| |amount of long lumber | , , .| $ . . | |amount of laths | , , .| . . | |amount of shingles | , , .| . . | |amount of pickets | , , .| . . | |amount of clap-boards | , .| . . | |no. of juniper knees | , .| . each.| |no. of men employed, directly | | | | and indirectly | , to , .| | |no. of oxen and horses, do | , .| | +------------------------------+------------------+-------------+ [ ] to the following gentlemen, viz., messrs. todd & darling, j. m'alister, esq., of st. stephen's, and to w. pike, esq., port surveyor; l. l. lowell, esq., and other gentlemen of calais, i am under lasting obligations for the courteous and intelligent manner in which they responded to the various questions proposed in preparing the statistics for the above table. leaving the st. croix, and traveling westward about forty miles, we come to east machias river, to the west of which, six miles distant, is another river called west machias. the name machias originated in some obstruction in the way of the indian traveler, either in the river itself or upon its banks, whether natural or accidental i am not aware. the eastern stream is about fifty miles long, including the small lake, which constitutes its chief source, and is navigable only about six miles for large vessels, at which point the village, bearing the same name as the river, is located, and also the mills. as the lake which feeds the river is fed principally by springs, it affords a good supply of water the year round. the land in the immediate vicinity of the stream is quite good for agricultural purposes; but, as we recede from the river, the soil appears poor, presenting a desolate and forbidding aspect. once a flourishing forest covered it, but now blackened, decayed, and decaying trunks of trees, scorched by fire, some prostrate, others still standing, limbless, naked, and desolate, intermingle with a small, dwarfish, and sparse second growth, and mantel the sterile plain and rocky hill side. indeed, this is but too true a portrait of immense tracts of land all along the coast of maine, from the st. croix to the penobscot, and still further westward. it is wonderful that these desert regions, whose sterility scarcely gives existence to the wild grass and stinted shrubs which grow there, once supported a dense and majestic forest. at east machias village there are seventeen saws in operation, and eleven lath machines; the latter, for the most part, are situated in the base of the saw-mills, and manufacture laths from the slabs made in the mill. at this place the saws cut, on an average, about six hundred thousand feet, board measure, to a saw, one half of this lumber being sawed from pine, and the other from spruce logs. the same quality of lumber brings fifty cents more per thousand here than on the st. croix. in answer to the question, _why is this so?_ the reply was, "we saw nearly all our lumber to _order_, and of prescribed dimensions." the resources for lumber are still quite abundant. the west machias stream is about the same size as the east, both being quite small; it has more numerous water privileges, and is more liable to be affected by droughts. here the lumbering operations are carried on more vigorously than on the other river, cutting some two hundred thousand more to a saw. the greatest distance that lumber has been cut from the village is about sixty miles. opinions the most reliable encourage the belief of the existence of sufficient timber to meet the demands of this market for years to come. this stream is also navigable for vessels up to the mills, being carried at flood-tide quite near the mill slips, where they receive their cargoes. both rivers empty into machias bay at points quite approximate, through which float the cargoes of industrial wealth to the broad atlantic and to the various ports of destination. annexed is a table showing at a glance the state of the lumber trade per annum on each river:[ ] +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ | east machias | +---------------------------+--------------+-----------+----------+ | | | average | total. | | | | price | | | per m. |----------| |-----------|----------| |no. of saw-mills | . | | | |no. of lath machines | . | | | |amount of long lumber | , , . | $ . . | $ , .| |no. of laths | , , . | . . | , .| | | | | ------ | | | | | $ , .| |no. of men employed | . | | | |no. of oxen and horses, do.| . | | | +---------------------------+--------------+-----------+----------+ | west machias | +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | average | total. | | | | price | | | per m. |----------| |-----------|----------| |no. of saw-mills | . | | | |no. of lath machines | . | | | |amount of long lumber | , , . | $ . . | $ , .| |no. of laths | , , . | . . | , .| | | | | ------- | | | | | $ , .| |no. of men employed | . | | | |no. of oxen and horses, do.| . | | | +---------------------------+--------------+-----------+----------+ [ ] for the most important facts involved in the annexed statement i am chiefly indebted to the kindness of deacon talbot, of east machias, and to other gentlemen engaged in the business residing at west machias. the next river worthy of note, for the lumber it produces, is the narraguagues, whose waters disembogue into a small bay bearing the same name, thirty miles beyond the west machias, its course being nearly parallel with the latter. the true indian orthography is said to be na-la-gua-gwees, and signifies palate, stream, or river. to use the precise language of my indian interpreter, opening his mouth wide and thrusting his finger down his throat, "it means all one, jes if i open my mouth and river run down my throat into mine belly." whether there is any peculiarity about the river, or the form of the bay into which it falls, to originate such a name, i am unaware. this stream, for water power, is about equal in its capacity to either of the machias rivers. the mills are principally located at cherryfield, where are fifteen saw and eight lath mills, three shingle and one clap-board machine. the saw-mills are said to produce about nine millions of long lumber per annum, worth eight dollars per _m._ on an average. the lath mills produce six million four hundred thousand pieces, worth one dollar per _m._ nine hundred thousand shingles are annually turned out, at two dollars and fifty cents per _m._ the clap-board machine may be credited with one hundred thousand pieces during the sawing season; of their quality i am not informed. in general they range from fifteen to thirty dollars per _m._ computing the value of the foregoing products, we have presented the annual product: long lumber $ , laths , shingles , clap-boards , ------ total $ , sixty teams are said to be employed on this river during the hauling season, and about three hundred men. the resources for lumber were reported by the most intelligent operators as equal to those of any lumber district in the state of equal size. in the adjoining town of franklin five saw-mills were reported, situated on small streams, doing a large business. these mills are said to manufacture about three million feet, worth eight dollars per _m._, giving twenty-four thousand dollars. about half way between the narraguagues and the penobscot rivers, and upon an almost exact parallel with the latter, runs union river, which disembogues into an arm of frenchman's bay. on the banks of this river, near its mouth, stands the village of ellsworth, which is decidedly one of the most beautiful places in maine, and in the immediate vicinity of which the mills are principally located; in all, about twenty-five. the annual amount of long lumber manufactured here is about sixteen million feet, worth some hundred and twelve thousand dollars; the aggregate amount of the various kinds of short lumber annually produced is worth some sixteen thousand dollars more. from four to five hundred men, and about the same number of oxen and horses, are employed in the lumbering business. logs are driven from two to forty miles. the territory through which this stream flows is well timbered, and affords an abundant supply of logs. chapter iv. penobscot river.--its various names.--character of the country through which it flows.--its length.--the vast extent of territory which it drains.--its multitude of lakes.--mount ktaadn.--indian legend.--elevation of the mountain.--overwhelming prospect.--a sabbath in the wilderness.--moose in the lake.--an uncomfortable night.--dr. jackson's narrative.--new lumber resources.--the interesting origin of this new resource.--john bull outwitted.--freshets on the penobscot. --freshet of , cause of it.--sudden rise of water.--bangor submerged.--bowlders of ice.--destruction of property.--narrow escape of ferry-boat.--peril of boys.--editorial observations. --lumber statistics.--where the lumber finds a market.-- speculations on future prospects of lumbering interests.-- anticipations of the future.--bangor. passing westward in a direct line about twenty miles, we come to the noble and interesting penobscot. although penobscot is now the name of the entire river, it was originally the name of only a section of the main channel, from the head of tide-water to a short distance above oldtown. penobscot is the indian name, and signifies stony or rocky river, as it certainly is within the above limits, being nothing less than a continuous fall before the dams were built. from the head of tide-water, at the city of bangor, to the mouth of the river, a distance of about thirty miles, it was known to the indians by the name of baam-tu-guai-took, which means broad river, sheet of water, or, more literally, all waters united. another section of the river is called gim-sit-i-cook, signifying smooth or dead water. unlike the kennebeck, and similar to the st. croix, the penobscot flows chiefly through a wilderness country. the time is yet distant when its banks shall exhibit the same advances in agricultural industry and wealth which now beautify, enrich, and enliven the banks of the kennebeck. [illustration: a coaster ascending the penobscot for lumber.] this river, on many accounts, is the most important in maine, and at present, from its vast lumbering resources and operations, the most noted. it is three hundred and fifty miles long, with numerous, and, in some instances, copious branches, which drain an immense uncultivated territory, embracing a region of country from east to west about one hundred and fifty miles in breadth, spanning the whole of the northern portion of the state, running round and cutting off the head waters of the st. croix on the east, and of the kennebeck on the west, interlacing its numerous branches with those of the st. john's river in the north, which brings within its embrace about one third the entire wilderness territory of maine. the scenery in some sections of this territory, about the head waters, is grand and picturesque. its numerous water-falls, some of which are fearful to contemplate, much more for the _river-driver_ to work upon; its swelling hills, and, in some instances, towering mountains, from whose tops may be counted an almost endless number of lakes, and the vast groves of towering pines here and there scattered over millions of acres of forest land, make it altogether one of the wildest and most romantic portions of country. one of the most attractive features in the interior is mount "ktaadn," which, from its isolated position, height, and sublime grandeur as the "birth-place of storms," surrounded with a beautiful, rich, and luxuriant forest, with streams and lakes, is worthy of special attention. the following sketch of a visit to this mountain by a party of gentlemen may be esteemed worthy of a perusal: our travelers, after having made the ascent of the river to the proper point, and made the necessary arrangements for their journey up the mountain, "entered the slide at eight o'clock" a.m., in the early part of september, and found its ascent quite steep, "though not difficult or dangerous at all, when one takes time." on almost all sides of the mountain there is a short, tangled growth of alders and white birch coming up between the rocks. these, being kept down by the winds, grow into an almost impassable bramble. at a distance it has a beautiful, smooth appearance, like a green, grassy hill, or what one of the company called a 'piece of oats.' the slide serves as a path up through all this tangle, reaching to the top of the southeastern ridge of the mountain, which is above all timber growth, making about one third of the whole perpendicular height of ktaadn, to which the ascent of the brook below would add another third. [illustration: view of the penobscot--forests and lakes n.e. from ktaadn.] "although it was hard climbing, we ascended pretty fast, and the clear morning air gave an indescribable beauty to the prospect below. the most pleasing was the constant change and variety caused by our rapid ascent. it was known that the mountain, at this season of the year, is frequented by bears in pursuit of cranberries, but we did not see any, though our gunner had enjoined silence in hopes of obtaining a shot. i remained with the rear, to see all up safe. the most zealous 'went ahead,' and were soon out of sight, until, near the head of the slide, we heard them from the distant topmost peaks calling out, 'come on, ye brave!' at this distance they looked very small in stature. from the head of the slide we turned to the left, and ascended northwest to the first and most eastern peak; by this time our comrades had reached the most western. we here paused to view our position. it is perhaps the most favorable spot for surveying the whole structure. from thence the principal peaks are in a curved line, going southwest, then west and northwest. the second peak, called by us the 'chimney,' is near the first, but separated by a sharp cut one hundred and fifty or two hundred feet deep, and nearly square in its form. we had seen one of our comrades upon its summit, else we might not have attempted the ascent. his zeal seemed to blind him to danger, for, when questioned on our return, he could neither tell _when_ or _how_ he ascended. our first plan was to pass around the base without going over the top; but this we found impossible, and were about to give up, when one pointed out a diagonal course, where, by taking a few pretty long steps, he thought we could ascend. i tried first, and succeeded, and all followed but two. from the 'chimney' we went from one hammock to another, making, on the whole, a gradual ascent, till we reached the middle of the principal peaks, a distance of nearly half a mile. there we met our comrades on their return from the western peak, and all sat down to rest. here we found a monument that had been erected by some former visitor, but was overgrown with moss, appearing lonely, as if it had seen no relations for years. on the first and most eastern peak, all the monuments which i had made the year previous looked new and fresh. it is not easy to decide which of the two (the western and middle peaks) is highest. judgment was given in favor of the middle one. "while sitting on the south side of the monument at twelve o'clock, we put the thermometer in a favorable place, and it went up to °. at the same time, on the north side, and six feet from us, water was freezing, and the snow dry and crusty. near by the monument a rock stood in its natural position, having a sharp peak in the top. this was the highest one of the kind. of this about four inches were broken off, and one of the company carried it home with the conviction that we had lowered the height of ktaadn to that amount. about two p.m. we returned to the eastern peak. it may be well to pause here and take a re-survey of the scene thus far presented, and as much more as can be viewed from this point. "from this eastern peak a spur makes out eastward one mile. half a mile down, however, it divides, and a branch runs to the northeast the same distance. on the southwest, across the cut, is the 'chimney.' from this the line of peaks and hammocks curves to the west till it reaches the middle and highest peak. from one hammock to the other there are, in all, thirty rods of narrow passes. some of them are so narrow that a man could drop a stone from either hand, and it would go to unknown depths below. in some places the only possible way is over the top, and only one foot wide. for a great part of the time the wind blows across these passes so violently that the stones themselves have to be firmly fixed to keep their places. it seemed remarkable, as if for our convenience, that the day of our visit was still and quiet. from the middle peak the line curves to the northwest, to the further monument. from this point a branch makes down to the southwest, having on it some extensive table-lands, while the top ridge or curve turns directly north with the '_sag_.' at the bottom of the '_sag_' we come upon a wide flat, which runs north half a mile, and stretches out to a considerable width. at the northern extremity of the flat the ridge curves to the east, and rises to a peak about equal in height to the eastern peak of the northern wing. this is probably the highest of the northern peaks, from which a spur makes down, a little south of east, to within one quarter of a mile from the one that comes from the southern wing. all this nearly includes a deep basin, with walls almost perpendicular, and in some places apparently two thousand feet high. "to survey the bottom of this basin i have since made a separate journey. it contains perhaps two hundred acres, covered with large square blocks of granite that seem to have come from the surrounding walls. there are in all six lakes and ponds, varying in size from two to ten acres. one of them i crossed on ice the th of october. "from its outlet inward to the southwest is about a mile, where there is a small lake of clear water which has no visible outlet. so far as i can learn, i was the first human visitor to this fabled residence of the indians' pamolah. it is not strange that a superstitious people should have many traditions of his wonderful pranks, and be kept away from close engagement with such a foe. when we reach the lake on our way to ktaadn, it is easy to see the origin of those fears which the indians are said to have respecting the mountain as the residence of pamolah or big devil. clouds form in the basin, and are seen whirling out in all directions. tradition tells a 'long yarn' about a 'handsome squaw' among the penobscots, who once did a great business in _slaying_ her thousands among the young chiefs of her nation, but was finally taken by pamolah to ktaadn, where he now protects himself and his prize from approaching indians with all his artillery of thunder and hail. "the indian says that it is 'sartin true, 'cause handsome squaw always ketch em deble;' whether this be true or not, the basin is the birth-place of storms, and i have myself heard the roar of its winds for several miles. but on the th of october, when i entered it and went to the upper lake, all was still as the house of nymphs, except when we ourselves spoke, and then the thousand echoes were like the response of fairies bidding us welcome. in this way the music of our voices would find itself in the midst of a numerous choir singing a '_round_.' "the upper lake, which i visited and went around, has an inlet, a white pearly brook, coming out nearly under the chimney, and running a short distance through alders and meadow grass. it has no visible outlet; but on the north side it seems to ooze out among the rocks. we can trace this water-course curving to the east of north till it reaches the lower and largest lake, from which flows a brook sufficiently large for trout to run up. this brook curves to the south, running into west branch, and is called roaring brook. the mountain around this basin is in the form of a horse-shoe, opening to the northeast. from the peak on the northern wing there is another deep gorge, partly encircled with a curving ridge, which some would call another basin. on the north side of this gorge there is a peak nearly equal in height to the one on the south of it, but considerably further east, making this northern basin or gorge open to the southeast. these two basins, from some points of view, seem to be one. from the last-mentioned peak the mountain slopes off from one peak or shoulder to another, perhaps three miles, before it reaches the timber growth. some of the branches of the wassataquoik come from this northern part, but some of them from the basin or southern part of ktaadn. "rough granite, moss-covered rocks are spread over its whole surface from the short growth upward. blueberries and cranberries grow far up the sides. at the time of our visit considerable snow lay on its summits and lined the walls of the great basin. the party, of course, found plenty of drink. the avalanche brook, having its source about the middle of the slide, furnished water pure as crystal. the ascent was attended with some danger and fatigue. but what a view when the utmost heights are gained! what a magnificent panorama of forests, lakes, and distant mountains! the surface of the earth, with its many-tinted verdure, resembled, in form and smoothness, the swelling sea. in the course of the forenoon, light fogs from all the lakes ascended, and, coming to ktaadn, intertwined themselves most fantastically above our heads, then settled down and dispersed. but what can be fitly said about the vast expanse of the heavens, to be seen from such an elevation, especially when the sun goes down, and the glowing stars appear in silent majesty? all the gorgeous, artificial brilliancy of man's invention is more than lost in the comparison. language has no power to describe a scene of this nature. the height of ktaadn above the level of the sea is five thousand three hundred feet. its position is isolated, and its structure an immense curiosity. from its summit very few populous places are visible, so extensive is the intervening wilderness. on its sides the growth of wood is beautiful, presenting a regular variation in altitude and size all the way up to the point where it ceases. "the great basin described by mr. keep was to none of us an inferior object of interest. want of time and strength prevented our descent into it. it is open to general inspection from all the heights around it. the day being quiet, the view was divested of much of its terror; but we could readily believe it the abode of all the furies in a storm, and where the polar monarch has his chief residence in maine. we called to each other across the basin, and echo answered 'where!' in earnest. the air was exhilarating, as may be supposed, but the effect not as sensible as we anticipated. "the whole party returned to the head of the slide at three p.m., and engaged in picking cranberries. these grow on all parts of the mountain above the timber region, and no doubt annually yield many thousand bushels. 'they grow on vines among the rocks, and are commonly called the mountain or highland cranberry. they are smaller than the meadow cranberry, but of a better flavor.' "at four o'clock six of the party went down to the camp to prepare fuel for the sabbath. our guide and the gunner remained at the head of the slide all night, and kept a fire with old roots; yet it was presumed that they had now and then a _little cold_ comfort. the result of their stay is thus set forth by mr. keep: "'on sabbath morning the eastern horizon was clear of clouds, and we looked anxiously for the sun. just before it came up, a bright streak appeared of silver whiteness, like the reflected light of the moon. we could see the further outline of land quite plain, and for a short distance beyond was this silvery streak. soon a small arc of the sun appeared above this bright line. i was hardly able to control my emotions while the whole came in sight. on saturday night, about sundown, our view of the country around was more distinct and enchanting--a boundless wilderness in all directions, much of the view being south of the lakes. of the latter, not far from two hundred are to be seen dotting the landscape. in one of them we can count one hundred islands. soon after sunrise on sabbath morning we went down to the camp to spend the day with the company.' "that holy morning found us refreshed, and somewhat prepared to appreciate our peculiar circumstances. the weather was charming. the air resounded with the pleasing murmur of the avalanche brook, as it flowed down over its bed of rocks; nor was the song of birds denied us. gentle breezes stirred the beautiful foliage of the circling woods. impressive stillness reigned, and the whole scene was adapted to awaken happy and exuberant emotions. "early we mounted some rocks on the bank of the stream toward the rising sun, and overlooking a vast region of country, and there poured forth sacred melody to our heart's content. the echo was glorious. verily we thought our 'feet were set in a large place;' and we could readily imagine that the wide creation had found a tongue with which our own exulted in unison. "at the hour appointed we assembled in the camp, and engaged in the exercises of a religious conference. it was good to be there. the scene finds its portraiture in the words of cowper: "'the calm retreat, the silent shade, with pray'r and praise agree, and seem by thy sweet bounty made for those who follow thee. then, if thy spirit touch the soul, and grace her mean abode, o! with what peace, and joy, and love she there communes with god.' "it is not too much to say that we enjoyed a measure of such experience. the day--the place--the topics of remarks--the songs of zion--all encircled by a kind providence, and made effective by the presence of god, will ever be worthy of a grateful remembrance. "in the afternoon, by request, rev. mr. munsell addressed us from the th verse of the th psalm, 'they shall speak of the glory of thy kingdom, and talk of thy power.' our position added deep interest to the theme of discourse, and naturally furnished much ground for illustration. indeed, the entire services of the day were attended with peculiar influences, being had under circumstances so widely different from the ordinary life of the company. "that sabbath was our delight, even in the face of a possible deficiency in food. but the course adopted imparted bodily rest and a peaceful mind. "we had traveled with burdens on our backs twenty-five miles--crossed several streams--climbed rough hills--walked on rocky places--tumbled over huge trunks of fallen trees--crowded through plenty of jungle--waded the avalanche brook--and all this in forbidding weather; but, aside from the glorious view on the summit of ktaadn, our toil found its recompense in the novelty and influence of a sabbath observance on such an elevation, and amid the wild scenes and solitudes of a mountain forest. "scarcity of food, and the engagements of some of the party, made it necessary on monday morning to start for home. we left the camp about half past nine, following down the brook to the point from whence we ascended, and then direct to the lake. "'at this time,' says our guide, 'we fell into much confusion on account of two of the company who were missing, the gunner and mr. meservey, for whom we made search, but in vain. few can imagine our feelings save those who have heard the cry of _lost_ coming up from the deep gloom of the wilderness in the native tone of some wanderer calling for help. after consultation, it was resolved that we must leave the ground for home, hoping for the best. we left at one, and came to the lake at four p.m., and here, to our great joy, we saw a smoke on the opposite side, near the outlet, and at five rejoined our missing companions. they had caught trout enough for us all, weighing from one to three pounds. with these, and cranberry-sauce in plenty, also bread, pork, and tea, we made merry around a cheerful fire. that night, however, a storm of rain coming up, found us poorly prepared.' "in this connection an incident may be related. just before our arrival, while the gunner was fishing, suddenly two moose bounded furiously into the lake, and appeared to be swimming toward him. though all along desirous of an interview, their visit was rather too startling. he scampered with all haste to the shore, seized his gun and fired, but the balls would not go through the '_law_,' which at that season afforded protection, and so the moose escaped. [illustration: northeast view of mount ktaadn, from the west branch of the penobscot.] "the night just referred to was a time of _realities_. truth proved 'stranger than fiction.' amid anxiety for the lost, the ax had been left on the mountain. a pile of logs lay near the outlet of the lake. with some of these our missing companions had made a fire; some formed the floor of the camp, and others, used as rafters, were covered with boughs for protection, but not from rain. on the above floor (the spot allowing no other), no boughs at hand could make a downy bed. every one found out that he was composed of flesh and bones. it also became difficult to regulate the fire, so that the heat was often intense. contrary winds would ever and anon drive the smoke into the camp, and thus cause great involuntary weeping. the scene was _felt_, and few could find sleep without stealing it. it was visible darkness all around. toward midnight the rain commenced. one of the party, writing to another from lincoln in december, says, 'old mount ktaadn from this place looks dreary enough. its snow-capped top often reminds me of our amusing adventures; but nothing in all our travels affords more amusement in moments of meditation than the night on the pond dam. that old plaid cloak, dripping in the rain; its occupant upon a log without the camp, singing "the morning light is breaking," when it was only one o'clock; and then again, "he shall come down like rain," &c.--all together have left an impression on my mind not soon to be effaced.' "the occupant of that 'cloak,' unable to sleep, conversed with the 'daughters of music,' and was prompted to sing the night out and the morning in; and as the rain increased, the whole crew joined heartily in the chorus. our departure from such lodgings was very early. beneath continual droppings from the trees and bushes, we pressed through an obstinate path-way, and arrived at the wassataquoik camp at half past nine. this march was really toilsome, but brought us out at the desired point. after a long rest, we followed the old supply road most of the way, forded the wassataquoik, and came out opposite mr. hunt's, whence the bateaux took us across the east branch. this was a little past four o'clock p.m. our appearance was far from beardless, our 'externals' somewhat ragged and torn, and our appetites keen as a 'damascus razor.' 'mine host' and family received us most cordially, having felt some anxiety in our absence. they made us joyful around a full table of good things. on the day following, wednesday, we passed to mr. cushman's, and on thursday took conveyances for home." another visitor[ ] to this point of attraction observes: "while i was engaged in noting the bearings of this mountain, the clouds suddenly darted down upon its summit and concealed it from view, while we could observe that a violent snow-squall was paying homage to pomola, the demon of the mountain, presently the storm ceased, and the clouds, having thus paid their tribute, passed on, and left the mountain white with snow. this took place on the th of september. [ ] dr. jackson. "crossing the lake--'millnoket, a most beautiful sheet of water, containing a great number of small islands, from which circumstance it takes its name'--we reached the carrying-place at the head of a long creek, where we pitched our camp amid a few poplar-trees, which were of second growth, or have sprung up since the forests were burned. the want of good fuel and of boughs for a bed was severely felt, since we were obliged to repose on naked rocks, and the green poplar-trees appeared to give more smoke than fire. the night was cold and the wind violent, so that sleep was out of the question. early in the morning we prepared to carry our boats over to ambijejis lake, and the labor was found very difficult, since the water was low, and we had to traverse a long tract of boggy land before reaching the other lake. "tracks of moose and cariboo abound in the mud, since they frequent the shallow parts of the lake, to feed upon the lilypads or the leaves of the nuphan lutea, which here abound. a noble-looking cariboo suddenly started from the woods, and trotted quietly along the shores of the lake quite near us, but we were not prepared to take him, and he presently darted into the forest and disappeared. "our provisions having been reduced, owing to the circumstance that our journey proved much longer than we had anticipated, i thought it necessary to put the whole party on a regular allowance, which was mutually agreed to. our indian, neptune, succeeded in catching half a dozen musquash, which we were glad to share with him, and a few trout which were also taken, and served to save a portion of our more substantial food. at pock-wock-amus falls, where the river rushes over a ledge of granite, large trout are caught abundantly, and we stopped a short time to obtain a supply. they are readily taken with a common fishing-hook and line, baited with a piece of pork, or even with a slip of paper, which is to be trailed over the surface of the water. some of the trout thus caught would weigh from three and a half to four pounds. "on the d of september we prepared ourselves for ascending the mountain, taking with us our tent, a few cooking utensils, and all the food remaining, except a small quantity of indian corn meal, which we concealed on the island for use on our return. "our party, all clothed in red flannel shirts, and loaded with our various equipments, made a singular appearance as we landed on the opposite shore and filed into the woods. "having reached a height where the forest trees were so diminutive that we could not camp any higher up for want of fuel, we pitched our tent. this place is about half way up the mountain. from it we have an extensive view of the surrounding country. "leaving our camp on the mountain side, at seven a.m. we set out for the summit of ktaadn, traveling steadily up the slide, clambering over loose bowlders of granite, trap, and graywacke, which are heaped up in confusion along its course. we at length reached a place where it was dangerous longer to walk on the loose rocks, and passing over to the right-hand side, clambered up among the dwarfish bushes that cling to the side of the mountain. "two of our party became discouraged on reaching this point, and there being no necessity of their accompanying us, they were allowed to return to camp. the remainder of our ascent was extremely difficult, and required no small perseverance. our indian guide, louis, placed stones along the path, in order that we might more readily find the way down the mountain, and the wisdom of this precaution was fully manifested in the sequel. at ten a.m. we reached the table-land which forms the mountain's top, and ascends gradually to the central peak. here the wind, and driving snow and hail, rendered it almost impossible to proceed, but we at length reached the central peak. the true altitude of mount ktaadn above the level of the sea is a little more than one mile perpendicular elevation. it is, then, evidently the highest point in the state of maine, and is the most abrupt granite mountain in new england. "amid a furious snow-storm, we set out on our return from this region of clouds and snow. louis declared that pomola was angry with us for presuming to measure the height of the mountain, and thus revenged himself. 'descending, we had nearly gone astray, and might have descended on the wrong side, had it not been for the precautions of louis before named. clouds and darkness hung upon the mountain's brow, and the cold blasts almost deprived us of breath. incrusted with snow, we carefully slid upon the surface of the rocks.' 'we tumbled down some large blocks of granite, that descended with a terrible fracas, dashing the rocks into fragments as they bounded along.' 'our party encamped upon the mountain side, and passed a sleepless night, without food, and amid a driving snow-storm.' "early next morning we struck our tent and descended the mountain, but so enfeebled had we become by hunger, privations, and fatigue, that it was with difficulty we could carry ourselves and burdens. every now and then our knees would give way beneath us, and cause us to fall upon the ground. when we reached the base of the mountain, we discovered some wild choke-cherries hanging in bunches from the trees, which the bears had often climbed and broken for the fruit. felling one of these cherry-trees, we ate the astringent fruit, and were in some measure resuscitated in strength, so as to march with renewed vigor. a bed of blueberries also presented itself, and we stopped to dine upon them. 'proceeding on, we met two of our company, who had passed down the night before, who had cooked all the indian meal that we left at our old camp on the island, and brought the cakes for our relief. on our way down the river we fortunately met two young men ascending the stream in a canoe on an exploring expedition, we induced them to sell us twenty biscuits, which, being two to a man, on short allowance, we hoped to be able to reach nickatow. on our way down we met another crew, who supplied us with the necessary rations to reach nickatow, where, on our arrival, we obtained all that was necessary for the comfortable prosecution of our down-river journey.'" in addition to the natural resources of the penobscot for lumber, several townships of good timber land, formerly claimed by the crown, but by treaty ceded to the united states, have become available by diverting a portion of the head waters of the st. john's river into the channel of the former, on the west branch. this was effected by cutting a canal from a lake on the st. john's, called zelos, to webster lake, on the penobscot. originally the canal was three hundred rods long by four wide, and four feet deep; but the strong current of water flowing through, at the rate of one mile in twenty minutes, has changed the regularity of the channel to a more natural and stream-like appearance. by this bit of yankee enterprise, the timber of eight townships, otherwise and necessarily destined for the provincial market, may be brought down the penobscot, the aggregate amount of which is estimated, by the best judges, at five hundred millions of feet. this has succeeded so well, that further surveys have been made with a view to open other communications between the waters in the same region, and, if the expectations of those interested in this matter should be realized, it is said that the timber of some thirty townships more will come down the penobscot river.[ ] [ ] since the above was written, fourteen townships more have become available. the project of excavating the canal alluded to was suggested by the proximity of the above-named lakes, and the remarkably favorable position of the strip of land lying between them. the direct cause of its being carried into effect is said to have originated in consequence of the levying of a provincial tax on lumber cut and run down the st. john's by americans, in violation of an article in the treaty adopted by the two governments in the recent settlement of the boundary between maine and new brunswick. the specific condition in the treaty thought to have been violated is this, in substance: all timber situated on land ceded to the united states, which, from its position, must pass down the st. john's, "_shall be dealt with as if it were the produce of the said province_;"[ ] which condition on the part of maine was thought to imply freedom from duty or taxation. [ ] _sec. iii. of the treaty between the states and great britain, ._--in order to promote the interests and encourage the industry of all the inhabitants of the countries watered by the river st. john's and its tributaries, whether living within the state of maine or the province of new brunswick, it is agreed that where, by the provisions of the present treaty, the river st. john's is declared to be the line of boundary, the navigation of the said river shall be free and open to both parties, and shall in no way be obstructed by either; that all the produce of the forest in logs, lumber, timber, boards, staves, or shingles, or of agriculture, not being manufactured, grown on any of those parts of the state of maine watered by the river st. john's or by its tributaries, of which fact reasonable evidence shall, if required, be produced, shall have free access into and through the said river and its said tributaries, having their source within the state of maine, to and from the seaport at the mouth of the river st. john's, and to and around the falls of the said river, either by boats, rafts, or other conveyance; that, when within the province of new brunswick, the said produce shall be dealt with as if it were the produce of the said province; that, in like manner, the inhabitants of the territory of the upper st. john's, determined by this treaty to belong to her britannic majesty, shall have free access to and through the river for their produce, in those parts where the said river runs wholly through the state of maine: _provided, always_, that this agreement shall give no right to either party to interfere with any regulations not inconsistent with the terms of the treaty, which the governments, respectively, of maine or of new brunswick may make respecting the navigation of the said river, where both banks thereof shall belong to the same party. therefore, in order to obtain some tribute (for it is, indeed, a trait quite prominent in the character of john bull to expect and demand tribute), a duty was levied upon _all_ timber running down the st. john's, whether from the crown lands or the territory ceded to maine. and the crown, in order to satisfy its loyal subjects for this new requisition, made a corresponding discount on the stumpage charged those hauling timber from the crown lands, while the yankees were left without indemnification. but brother jonathan was not to be outgeneraled by this maneuver, but characteristically "_guessed_" out a way of escape; and not only thwarted the cunning of his crafty neighbor in this matter, but actually laid his dominions under tribute, _nolens volens_, by diverting a portion of the waters of st. john's river, bringing it into the channel of the penobscot, where it probably runs "_duty free._" while, therefore, the yankees thus resisted the attempted encroachment, we doubt not but they secretly render a "_tribute_" of _thanks_ for the provocation. the penobscot is not so likely to be affected by destructive freshets as are most large rivers; for instance, the kennebeck, whose accumulating waters rush through its deeply-cut channel with tremendous power, carrying all before it; and for this reason the former runs through immense tracts of low intervale lands, which, in time of abundant rains, act as vast reservoirs, receiving and scattering the surplus water over thousands of acres. nothing is likely to produce disastrous freshets, except such as arise from unusual causes; and as such a combination is not likely to occur once in a century, an event of this nature is not often expected nor dreaded. [illustration: godfrey's falls on the seboois river. banks feet high.] the penobscot has two principal and many minor branches; among the latter, mention may be made of "_mattawamkeag_," which "means a stream running over a gravelly bed;" and the "_piscataquis_," which is about one hundred miles in length, and forms a junction with the main river some thirty or forty miles above bangor; its waters are clear as crystal, and the current rapid. also the "_seboois_," several days' journey from the mouth of the matawamkeag. some of the wildest and most interesting scenery in the state occurs on this river and on the lofty mountains in its vicinity. godfrey's falls, as seen in the opposite cut, plunge around the base of high mountainous banks hundreds of feet above the wild torrent which rushes between them. these falls are impassable, and when boatmen arrive here they are compelled to carry their effects and boats up a ledge on the left side of the falls, at an angle of °, and then through the burned forest for the distance of four miles before again attempting to navigate the river. not less than fifty mountains and seventeen lakes may be seen from the summit of sugar-loaf mountain, which stands a little removed from the shores of the seboois, as represented in the cut at the end of this chapter; and among the interesting objects viewed from this point is _chase's_ mountain, on the west side of the seboois, very peaked, which rises like a vast pyramid from the dense forest country around it, a representation of which may be seen on page . there are many important islands in the penobscot; several of them contain many hundred acres of land. among them mention may be made of "_olemon_," which contains some three hundred acres; likewise "sugar island," of corresponding magnitude; "orson island," twelve hundred acres; "marsh island," five thousand acres; "oldtown," the present site of an indian village, three hundred acres; orono, one hundred and fifty acres. on these islands are several flourishing villages, oldtown, orono, and stillwater, in the vicinity of which are the principal mill sites, which are from seven to fourteen miles above bangor. the overwhelming catastrophe which occurred on this river in the spring of will long be remembered by those who witnessed it. the following graphic account of this occurrence, from the pen of dr. west, was published in the bangor courier, and will be read with deep interest: "to the rev. dr. tyng, new york. "reverend and dear brother--we have passed through a scene within the last two or three days which will deeply interest and impress you. our city has met with a calamity unparalleled in its annals, and perhaps unequaled, in proportion to its population and means, by any in our country. we have been inundated by the river in consequence of what is called here an ice-jam. the history of the matter is briefly as follows: "it sometimes happens that the ice in the river breaks up above, while it remains too strong at the outlet to admit of its passing down. the consequence is the accumulation of a dam of ice which completely fills the river from bank to bank, and heaps up sometimes to the height of from fifteen to thirty feet, and thus forming a reservoir of water above it, which overflows the banks and inundates the country around. "the present winter has been a remarkable one in the mode of the formation of the ice. after the river was first frozen over, the ice continued to form in cakes or sheets, and to flow down the rapids to the still and frozen portions, and these were drawn under. this continued until the submerged sheets were stopped by rocks or shoals; then the accumulation went on until the bed of the river became consolidated to an astonishing thickness. around the piers of our great bridge it was cut through to the depth of about fourteen feet. thus the entire bed of the river seemed to have become, at least except the channel, an almost solid body of ice. [illustration: chase's mountain, as it appears from sugar-loaf mountain.] "the greatest fears were entertained throughout the winter for the consequences during the spring freshet, and yet no effectual precautions could be taken to guard against impending calamity. the very worst of these fears have now been more than realized. "a few days ago the river began to break up for about thirty miles above the city, while it continued firmly bound for about twelve miles below. there were several different spots where the jams, or ice-dams were formed; and when they broke away, they came rushing down with the force of a mountain torrent, until the strong ice below resisted their progress. these jams came down one at a time, and, lodging against another below, kept increasing their magnitude. the two most formidable jams were within seven miles of the city, in the vicinity of the two largest and most important ranges of saw-mills. those which formed above, when they broke away, passed through at oldtown and stillwater with little comparative damage other than carrying away the bridges, and adding to the size of the jams below. "the first movement was the raising the two principal ranges of mills from their foundations by the rise of the water. after this the first jam that passed down swept away the basin mills, which belong to a new york company, and which rented for above ten thousand dollars per annum. they next carried away a large range of mills belonging to some of our most enterprising citizens, and which rented for fifteen thousand dollars per annum. one of the proprietors thus lost about fifty thousand dollars. the mills in these two ranges contained about fifty saws, were possessed of the most unfailing water power, were recently fitted up with the best improved machinery, and performed last year about one third of all the business on the river. "the jams thus worked their way down gradually, carrying destruction to bridges and small houses, and other buildings on the banks, until they were all concentrated in one immense mass of four miles in length, of great height and depth, and filling the river, which varies in width from one thousand to fifteen thousand feet from bank to bank. of the magnitude and power of such a mass, no just conception can be formed by persons unused to similar scenes. above the jam the water was twenty or thirty feet above its usual height, filling up the rapids, and making a dead level of the falls. "the first injury to the city was from the breaking away of a small section of the jam, which came down and pressed against the ice on our banks. by this, twenty houses in one immediate neighborhood, on the west bank of the river alone, were at once inundated, but without loss of life. this occurred in the daytime, and presented a scene of magnificent interest. the effect of this small concussion upon the ice near the city was terrific. the water rose instantly to such a height as to sweep the buildings and lumber from the ends of the wharves, and to throw up the ice in huge sheets and pyramids. this shock was resisted by the great covered bridge on the penobscot, which is about one thousand feet in length, and this gave time to save much property from impending destruction. but, meanwhile, another auxiliary to the fearful work had been preparing by the breaking up of the ice in the kenduskeag river. this river flows through the heart of the city, dividing it into two equal portions. the whole flat on the margin of the river is covered with stores and public buildings, and is the place of merchandise for the city. the kenduskeag runs nearly at right angles with the penobscot at the point where they unite. the penobscot skirts the city on the eastern side, and on the banks of this river are the principal wharves for the deposit of lumber. "i must mention another circumstance to give you a just idea of our situation. there is a narrow spot in the river, about a mile below the city, at high head, in which is a shoal, and from which the greatest danger of a jam always arises, and it was this that caused the principal inundation. "the next incident occurred at midnight, when the bells were rung to announce the giving way of the ice. it was a fearful sound and scene. the streets were thronged with men, women, and children, who rushed abroad to witness the approach of the icy avalanche. at length it came rushing on with a power that a thousand locomotives in a body could not vie with; but it was veiled from the eye by the darkness of a hazy night, and the ear only could trace its progress by the sounds of crashing buildings, lumber, and whatever it encountered in its path-way, except the glimpses that could be caught of it by the light of hundreds of torches and lanterns that threw their glare upon the misty atmosphere. the jam passed on, and a portion of it pressed through the weakest portion of the great bridge, and thus, joining the ice below the bridge, pressed it down to the narrows at high head. meanwhile the destruction was in progress on the kenduskeag, which poured down its tributary ice, sweeping mills, bridges, shops, and other buildings, with masses of logs and lumber, to add to the common wreck. "at that moment, the anxiety and suspense were fearful whether the jam would force its way through the narrows, or there stop and pour back a flood of waters upon the city; for it was from the rise of the water consequent upon such a jam that the great destruction was to be apprehended. but the suspense was soon over. a cry was heard from the dense mass of citizens who crowded the streets on the flat, 'the river is flowing back!' and so sudden was the revulsion, that it required the utmost speed to escape the rising waters. it seemed but a moment before the entire flat was deluged; and many men did not escape from their stores before the water was up to their waists. had you witnessed the scene, occurring as it did in the midst of a dark and hazy night, and had you heard the rushing of the waters and the crash of the ruins, and seen the multitudes retreating in a mass from the returning flood, illumined only by the glare of torches and lanterns, and listened to the shouts and cries that escaped from them to give the alarm to those beyond, you would not be surprised at my being reminded of the host of pharaoh as they fled and sent up their cry from the red sea, as it returned upon them in its strength. "but the ruinous consequences were, providentially, the loss of property rather than life. the whole business portion of the city was inundated; and so entirely beyond all reasonable estimate was the rise of the waters, that a very large proportion of all the stocks of goods in the stores were flooded. precautions had been taken, in the lower part of the city, to remove goods from the first to the second story, and yet many who did so had the floors of the second story burst up, and their goods let down into the waters below; while in the higher portions, where the goods were piled up on and about the counters, the waters rose above them, and involved them in a common destruction. others, who did not remove their goods, suffered a total loss of them. "thus far, however, the devastation was confined to the least valuable part of the wealth of the city. the lumber on the wharves constitutes the larger portion of the available property of the city; and here a kind providence has spared the devoted city, and by one of those singular methods by which a present evil, which seems to be the greatest that could be inflicted, is the means of averting a greater one; for it was the occurrence of the jam which, while it inundated the stores, appeared to be the means of saving the lumber. the pressure of the ice against the wharves and lumber was so great as to wedge it in with immense strength, and formed a sort of wall outside the wharves, from which the jam, when it started, separated and passed out, leaving the lumber safe, though injured. "after the ice stopped, things remained in this situation during the next day, which was sunday--the saddest and most serious sunday, probably, ever passed in bangor. few, however, could spend the day in worship. all that could labor were employed, while the flood kept rising, in rescuing what property could be saved from the waters, and in taking poor families from their windows in boats. "the closing scene of this dreadful disaster occurred on sunday evening, beginning at about seven o'clock. the alarm was again rung through the streets that the jam had given way. the citizens again rushed abroad to witness what they knew must be one of the most sublime and awful scenes of nature, and also to learn the full extent of their calamity. few, however, were able to catch a sight of the breaking up of the jam, which, for magnitude, it is certain, has not occurred on this river for more than one hundred years. the whole river was like a boiling cauldron, with masses of ice upheaved as by a volcano. but soon the darkness shrouded the scene in part. the ear, however, could hear the roaring of the waters and the crash of buildings, bridges, and lumber, and the eye could trace the mammoth ice-jam of four miles long, which passed on majestically, but with lightning rapidity, bearing the contents of both rivers on its bosom. the noble covered bridge of the penobscot, two bridges of the kenduskeag, and the two long ranges of saw-mills, besides other mills, houses, shops, logs, and lumber enough to build up a considerable village. the new market floated over the lower bridge across the kenduskeag, a part of which remains, and, most happily, landed at a point of the wharves, where it sunk, and formed the nucleus of a sort of boom, which stopped the masses of floating lumber in the kenduskeag, and protected thousands of dollars' worth of lumber on the wharves below. "so suddenly and so rapidly was all this enacted, that it seems impossible to believe it to have occurred without loss of life. yet such appears to be the happy result. rumor, indeed, consigned many to a watery grave, who were most unexpectedly preserved. there were, for instance, twenty or thirty men on one of the bridges when it gave way, some of whom jumped into the water to save themselves, but none were lost. a raft passed down the kenduskeag with three or four boys upon it, and they were seen floating into the vortex of the jam, but the raft passed near enough to a store for them to leap from it to a platform, and thus they saved their lives. a boat also was crossing the river when the jam started, and the river was rushing in a torrent, but they also got safe to land. many such hazards occurred, but without the loss of a single life. "i have thus given you a very hasty and unstudied narrative of this severe calamity, as i have gathered it before any account has been published. i have no time or space for reflections. there are, no doubt, many wise and good designs to be accomplished by such an event, which will readily suggest themselves to every christian mind. the present state of our churches before this, i think, was highly promising, and the presence of god's holy spirit manifest. i most earnestly pray that a serious, practical, and real reformation may ensue. "the individual losses are very great. some have lost their all, and many from five to fifty thousand dollars each; yet the aggregate will be swelled, by a first estimate, far beyond its real amount. from what i have already seen, i think there is no reason whatever for the friends of bangor abroad to entertain any distrust respecting its recovery and progressive prosperity. such a buoyant and elastic spirit i never saw in man, as is apparent to-day, at the very moment when men usually most despond. there is no such thing as depression. despair is a word which the active and laborious merchants of this city do not know the definition of; and as soon as time can enable man to restore the city to its former prosperity, it will be done. my prayer is that its future prosperity may be tempered by a more sanctified spirit--that the hand of god may be more recognized--the institutions of religion more generally sustained--the uncertainty and vanity of worldly possessions more deeply realized, and that this singularly appropriate antidote to a bold and heaven-daring intemperance may dilute, if not wash it entirely away. "very truly, your friend and brother, "john west. "bangor, maine, march , ." the editor of the bangor courier, in some cheerful remarks upon the incidents of the event, observes: "we could not bring ourselves to believe that the market-house, in which we had our office, would be removed. we were induced to move our materials at the earnest solicitation of friends, and under their strong advice. we felt all the while as though the alarm would soon be over, and labor resumed in the old premises, and therefore a clumsy article here and another there were left, until the value of the aggregate was about two hundred dollars, the removal of which we thought we had wisely avoided. the market moved off majestically, but with gentle dalliance, until it plunged forward from the bridge into the fast receding current of the stream, when it righted with a ship-like propriety, bearing aloft a beautiful flag-staff--emblem of liberty, erected in honor of henry clay, the beloved and whole-hearted patriot and orator, who in private station receives the highest attentions and sincerest regards of the american people--and sped its way onward to the ocean, until happily bethinking how many little articles it contained which would be so missed and mourned, that it settled down with a determination to proceed no further. we visited the wreck in the evening, and, fearing it might prove our last, we bore away several pamphlets and documents as prizes. at an early hour yesterday morning we paid it another visit, when, in company with our office hands, and the kind help and timely suggestions of personal friends and a few strangers, we succeeded in securing every article of value. there happened to be one case of type left in one of the racks which had ridden out the perils and roughness of the voyage without spilling a type. "it may be a little fanciful, perhaps, but there seems to be an increased value in these articles which have once slipped from us, made the voyage of the stream, and are, at length, so unexpectedly and singularly recovered. one of our citizens--a kennebecker, by-the-way--was particularly zealous in saving the whig flag-staff, declaring it should long remain to bear aloft the flag of freemen. "the whole river seems to have been an entire mass of ice, partly solid and partly porous. the sudden rise of the river excited alarm, and its sudden subsidence, at the rate of about two feet a minute, caused astonishment. "there is in the upper side, and near the middle of exchange street, a large cake of ice more than five feet thick. on broad street there are ice-balls twenty-five feet in diameter, and scattered about in every direction are thousands of smaller masses. "it will be difficult for people who did not witness it to realize that all the business part of the city was a pool in which large vessels might sail--that exchange street, and main street, and others lower down, were deep canals for half their length, and that central street was a running river. but such things were, and hundreds of stores were under water! boats were in requisition, and various contrivances were resorted to in the effort to turn an honest penny. among them we noticed one fellow had taken the wall street sign, and fastened it upon the stern of his boat, in order to popularize his boat and route. the scene in the vicinity of the steam-boat wharf or at the rose place is truly astonishing--such heaps of ice thrown in wild confusion, furnishing a capital idea of icebergs from the northern ocean. we advise our friends to visit these places, and to gather in some idea of the mighty power of the flood and of the process of making ice mountains. "it is quite wonderful, considering the suddenness and extent of the rise of the water, that no more lives were lost in this vicinity. there were some families in great peril. a family living at the point, between brewer village and the river, were alarmed by the approach of the flood, and started, several women in the number, for higher land in the vicinity, but, before reaching it, the water was up to their armpits. they reached what was then an island, and were compelled to remain during the night. a family living near crosby's ship-yard could not escape, and were taken off in a boat by one of the neighbors. "twenty women and children, as the water flowed over the plain at brewer, fled to a school-house, but could not return, and were obliged to go back upon the hills and remain until the water subsided. "general miller, at the post-office, with his clerks, had a cool time of it. they were all at work, when the flood suddenly came upon them, and filled the office to the depth of four feet. the general started, and held the door for the clerks to dodge out and escape up stairs; but calvin lingered behind for some minutes, when the general called loudly to know what detained him. "'oh,' said he, wading along with the water up to his armpits, 'i stopped for the purpose of stamping these paid letters,' at the same time holding up a bundle. "we are happy to add that calvin remains perfectly cool, and that in three hours after getting into the old office yesterday morning, every thing was cleaned up and business going on as usual. "the actual amount of property lost in the city by this flood is estimated by pretty good judges at between two and three hundred thousand dollars. this falls severely upon some of our citizens, but the heaviest losses come upon those able to ride out the storm." but, notwithstanding the severity of this visitation, few traces are left to denote it, at least to impress the stranger's mind. bridges have been re-erected, damages repaired, and the business community have risen from under it with the elasticity of a sapling oak after the tempest has overpast. between fifty and sixty saws were swept away, which have not yet ( ) been replaced. the following table, showing the condition of the lumber manufacture and trade on the penobscot, has been obtained from the most reliable sources of information, and is presented for the inspection of those interested in such matters. number of saw-mills on the penobscot and tributaries, . number of clap-board machines, . number of lath machines, . amount of long lumber sawed annually,[ ] , , feet, at $ . per _m._ amount of laths sawed annually, , , pieces, at $ . per _m._ amount of clap-boards sawed annually, , , pieces, at $ . per _m._ amount of shingles[ ] sawed and split annually, , , pieces, at $ . per _m._ amount of pickets[ ] sawed annually, , , pieces, at $ . per _m._ the number of men, oxen, and horses employed directly and indirectly on this river alone, would not vary, probably, much from twenty thousand.[ ] [ ] the amount varies from year to year, sometimes exceeding, and then again falling short of the amount above stated. [ ] sawed on the river and from the country. [ ] there are various other kinds of short lumber, such as staves, sash and window-blind stuff, not enumerated. [ ] the author, in preparing the above statement, has availed himself of the most reliable sources of information, and would particularly mention the following gentlemen, to whose intelligence and kindness he is particularly obligated mr. s. harris, of the surveyor general's office; rufus dwinel, esq., and mr. taylor, of bangor; also a. w. babcock, esq., and several other gentlemen of orono. the reader may inquire with some curiosity, "where does all this lumber find a market?" we may remind such that maine has furnished, in times past, the principal part of the lumber consumed in the united states and the west india islands, though other states in the union possess immense tracts of fine timber land, which, as the lumbering interests of maine diminish, will be cut and brought into market. indeed, such movements have already become quite common in the western part of the state of new york, and also in pennsylvania and georgia, as well as in other portions of the country where there are large tracts of timber land, much of which has already been bought up by eastern lumbermen. in regard to the consumption of lumber, we may observe that the island of cuba alone consumes forty millions of feet per annum for the one article of sugar-boxes. the city of boston is supposed to make use of the same amount per annum for building and cabinet purposes. persons unacquainted with the resources of the penobscot are continually anticipating a decrease in the amount of lumber from the great tribute under which our forests have been already laid; but those who are best qualified to judge estimate that there is now timber enough standing in the forests, on territories through which the waters of the penobscot pass, to maintain the present annual operations, vast as they are, for fifty successive years, after which it is thought the amount will diminish about _one tenth_ per annum until its final consumption, when, doubtless, the pursuits of the lumbermen will give place to the labors and rewards of husbandry, and to the working of the various veins of mineral deposits already known and yet to be discovered. a period not as long, probably, as from the landing of the pilgrims at plymouth to the present time, will transpire, ere the loggers' camp will give place to the farm-house, and golden fields of waving grain relieve the sun-hid earth of the gigantic forests so long cherished upon its laboring bosom. we can seem to look through the following prophetic verse as a magic spy-glass, which dispels _time_ as well as space, and see the reality it points out pass vividly before the imagination. "loud behind us grow the murmurs of the age to come, clang of smiths and tread of farmers, bearing harvests home! here her virgin lap with treasures shall the green earth fill, waving wheat and golden maize-ears crown each beechen hill." the reader may be asked, in conclusion, to estimate the results of fifty years' lumbering on the penobscot. what a vast revenue, in addition to the agricultural interests of the contiguous country! when we look to bangor, so favorably located at the head of navigation, the grand center of all these great interests, it would seem not irrational to predict for it a glorious career in growth, wealth, and importance, nor improbable that the same may be fully realized. she is surrounded by resources of wealth altogether beyond any other town or city in the state, of which neither her citizens, with all their foresight, nor capitalists, seem to be fully aware. of one great disadvantage, which must retard her progress, mention may be made, viz., capitalists _abroad_ own too much of the territory on her river. a judicious policy in business must be steadily pursued, else she may only prove the mere _outlet_ through which the wealth of her territory shall pass to other hands, leaving her with the bitter inheritance of one day becoming possessed of the knowledge, when too late, of what she _might have been_. [illustration: seboois river--sugar-loaf mountain, feet high.] chapter v. length of kennebeck.--moose-head lake.--its peculiar shape.--its islands.--burned jacket.--interesting deposit.--mount kineo.--the prospect from its summit.--moose river.--old indian.--the banks of the kennebeck.--beauties of the country, &c.--lumber on dead river. --falls at waterville.--skowhegan falls.--arnold's encampment.-- nau-lau-chu-wak.--caritunk falls.--lumber.--statistics.--author's acknowledgments.--androscoggin.--course and other peculiarities.--a question of rivalry.--water power.--original indications.--interesting sketch of rumford falls.--estimated water power.--lumber statistics. --droughts and freshets.--umbagog lake.--the serpentine megalloway. --granite mountains.--beautiful foliage.--romantic falls.--character of country.--manner of life in log-cutting, &c.--statistics, &c.-- presumpscot river, great water-powers of.--warmth of water.-- statistical remarks.--saco river. the beautiful kennebeck lies about sixty miles west of the penobscot river, running from north to south, nearly parallel with the latter, constituting one of those great marks of designation which divide the state longitudinally into three sections south of the th degree of north latitude to the sea-coast inclusive. [illustration: view of lily bay, on moose-head lake.] the kennebeck takes its rise in the southwest section of moose-head lake (according to mitchel's atlas), so called, probably, from the near resemblance it has, with its numerous coves, arms, and bays, to the branchy horns of the moose. as laid down on some maps, particularly on the map of the eastern states in smith's atlas, published by j. paine, of hartford, it requires but a small exercise of the imagination to see in its outlines the form of an immense animal, making the portage from the mouth of the st. lawrence to the atlantic ocean with fearful strides of fifteen miles each. the figure of the lake, as laid down on mitchel's maps, corresponds more exactly with the branching appearance of a moose horn. "its whole extent, from north to south, is about forty miles, and varies in width from one to eight miles, and very irregular in shape, owing to its deep coves, bays, and islands, which in some parts almost fill the lake. many of these islands are mere ledges of slate, covered with a scanty growth of cedar and fir, rising perpendicularly from the surface of the water, which fall suddenly to a great depth by their sides. others are large islands of many acres, well wooded, and bordered by beaches of sand, as well as by ledges of rock. on the eastern side, a few miles from the foot of the lake, rises a high rocky point, called burned jacket. it is composed of gneiss, curiously crossed in every direction by veins of quartz. its sides are covered with huge blocks of gneiss which have fallen from the top, forming long dens and passages between them. on a small, low island, northwest from moose island, i found the beach almost covered with fine black ferruginous sand. it is the common black sand used in writing. it lies upon and in a strata with the yellow beach sand, and may be collected in great abundance. such sand is commonly sold, when put up in pound papers, at six cents each. to obtain large quantities, it might be scooped up with shovels, and afterward separated from the yellow sand by powerful magnets." take your knife-blade, when charged with the magnet, and immerse it in your sand-box, and quantities will adhere to it, leaving whatever is foreign to itself. "mount kineo, to which allusion has already been made, has the appearance of a huge artificial wall of stone rising directly out of the water on the eastern side of the lake, opposite the mouth of moose river." "we paddled under its cliffs, which jutted out over our heads at a height of five or six hundred feet. below, they descend perpendicularly ninety feet. the northern and western sides are covered with trees, and slope so that one can reach the top by a path along the edge of the precipice. from its summit is enjoyed a beautiful prospect of the lake, with its islands, and of the adjoining country, forming a most picturesque landscape. the country, to the northward and westward, is generally low. moose river is seen making its way through it, and finally emptying into the lake on the opposite side. to the eastward the country is more hilly, until the view is lost among the mountains of the ktaadn group. on looking down from the edge of the precipice, we see the water directly beneath; and so steep and overhanging is the rock, that by a single leap one might throw himself from almost the highest point, and strike the water six hundred feet below, and many feet distant from the base of the mountain. mount kineo receives its name from that of an old indian who formerly lived and hunted in its vicinity." the most striking feature of the kennebeck is derived from the well-cultivated and beautiful country through which its waters flow. "from anson to bath," a distance of about eighty miles, it passes through a particularly well-cultivated section, presenting an extent of territory probably under a higher state of cultivation than any other division of the state. to use the complimentary and probably truthful remarks of a gentleman long a resident at the capital, augusta, "no river in the united states, within the same distance, can be found with more pleasant and delightful scenery, more beautiful villages, or a more thriving population." "the principal business places on its banks are, beginning at its mouth, bath, richmond, gardiner, pittston, hallowell, augusta, waterville, fairfield, bloomfield, millburn, norridgewock, and anson. bath has long been known for its ship-building, having furnished many of the finest ships engaged in our european trade. richmond, gardiner, pittston, and some other towns on the river, have also built many fine vessels. from merry-meeting bay (the confluence of the kennebeck and androscoggin from the west) to the dead river is a fine farming country, while the lumbering region on the kennebeck, for the most part, extends northward to the lake, around it and its tributaries, and at the dead river. formerly a considerable quantity of lumber was cut on the sebasticook; but now the quantity is very much diminished, owing to the scarcity of logs on that river." there are several noted falls on the river; the first is at waterville. "the kennebeck river is there observed rushing through a breach which has been formed by the disruption of stratified argillaceous slate." "the fall of water is from a ledge of these rocks, and varies from eighteen to twenty feet, according to the state of the river." the next considerable fall on the river is at skowhegan, "produced by the falling of the kennebeck over a rocky ledge to the distance of from ten to twelve feet. during the fatal campaign of arnold, his army encamped upon an island near the falls, and occasionally relics of the encampment are now found, such as pipes, coins, &c." [illustration: skowhegan falls, on the kennebeck.] at norridgewock the kennebeck plunges about ten feet over ledges of hard argillaceous slate, which constitute another step in the series of pitches over which the river passes, seeking its home and level in the bosom of the atlantic ocean. nau-lau-chu-wak is said to be the original and true indian orthography, the sense of which is this: these falls, or this place, is the only obstruction to navigation. at caritunk falls, still further up river, and half a mile from solon village, "the kennebeck dashes over hard quartz rock and mica slate ledges, which run northeast, southwest, and dip northwest °. measured barometrically, the fall is sixteen feet perpendicular, but is said sometimes to be upward of twenty feet. the gorge through which the water passes is fifty feet."[ ] [ ] geological reports of maine. the lumbering interests on the kennebeck still hold a marked prominence. there is reported on this river and its tributaries, from bath northward, including all its tributaries (not including the androscoggin as one), one hundred and fifty saw-mills, several of which, from augusta down, are driven by steam. averaging the various amounts of long lumber, as reported from sources the most reliable, we report , , feet as the amount of long lumber sawed in one year, though not the invariable amount, as this differs on all rivers more or less, as the various influences to which this business is subjected operate. the average price of long lumber has been variously estimated by different gentlemen who have given an opinion, but, from the best evidences before me, i venture to put it down at $ per _m._ but the question here occurs, and to my own mind with distinct impressiveness, why is there so great a disparity in the prices of long lumber on the kennebeck and the penobscot? this question i can not satisfactorily answer to myself, and to it i venture but one suggestion in reply. the probability is, that, in the wholesale slaughter (so to speak) of lumber on the penobscot, there may be a larger proportion of the fourth, fifth, and sixth qualities of lumber--as it is there distinguished--than on the kennebeck. having made application to some of the most intelligent lumbermen on the penobscot for a solution of this question, i may yet be able to append such facts as the inquiry may elicit. from the best sources of information to which i have had access, the following is furnished as a tolerable approximation to the truth in relation to the amount and value of short lumber: laths, millions, at $ . per _m._=$ , . clap-boards, millions, at . per _m._= , . shingles, - / millions, at . per _m._= , . the "gardiner fountain" for january , , reports the following as the amount of the various denominations of lumber manufactured at gardiner and pittston: "long lumber, , _m._; shingles, , _m._; clap-boards, _m._; and of pickets, _m._" the editor remarks that "the amount of money received for sales on the above lumber is $ , ." in addition to other kinds of lumber, there are large quantities of door and blind stuff not enumerated. there remains but one observation to be made touching the lumber business on the kennebeck. it is estimated by good judges that the present annual amount of lumber on this river may be hauled for ten successive years, after which it will depreciate one fourth every ten years, and thus, in forty years, exhaust the resources of the river. for the principal facts involved in the above statements, not duly credited already, i am indebted to mr. a. w. babcock, an intelligent gentleman and extensive operator on the penobscot; also to mr. e. bartlett, of augusta, whose zeal in furnishing answers to the various questions proposed for consideration has only been equaled by the degree of readiness which he has manifested to assist me; and to m. springer, esq., deputy collector of the customs for the port of gardiner, maine. statistics of lumber on the kennebeck. +-----------------------+---------------+-------------+---------+ | | |average price| total. | | | | per m. | | | | +-------------+---------| |no. of saw-mills | . | | | |amount of long lumber | , , . | $ . . |$ , .| |amount of laths | , , . | . . | , .| |amount of clap-boards | , , . | . . | , .| |amount of shingles | , , . | . . | , .| | | | |---------| | | | |$ , .| |probable number of men | | | | | employed | , to , .| | | |probable number of oxen| | | | | and horses employed | , . | | | +-----------------------+---------------+-------------+---------+ taking leave of the beautiful kennebeck, the flourishing villages which skirt its borders, and its rich, productive farms, spreading east and west, our attention is next arrested by the serpentine androscoggin, with its vast water power. "from merry-meeting bay, into which it empties, to lewiston falls, it formerly went by the name of peyepscook or pyepscook, which means crooked, like a diving snake," strikingly expressive of the zigzag course of the stream, and the numerous pitches in its channel, giving it the appearance, or at least suggesting the idea, of the movements of a diving eel. the length of this river is set down at two hundred and fifty miles, though the distance, in a direct line from the point where it takes its rise to its mouth, does not probably exceed one hundred miles. it is this circumstance which gives it an opportunity to drain a large territory, and, though less numerously attended with tributary streams than either the kennebeck or penobscot, it is said to discharge more water during the year than either of the latter rivers. to glance at the map and institute a comparison between the penobscot and androscoggin, the former sixty miles longer, with its hundreds of lakes, numerous branches and tributaries, ramifying nearly one third the area of the entire state, in the regions of ice and snow, mountains and wildernesses, then survey the androscoggin, with comparatively few tributaries or lakes, and the thing seems incredible that the latter annually pours into the atlantic more water than the former; yet actual surveys, made by the late colonel baldwin, j. a. beard, esq., and others, have demonstrated this result with mathematical certainty. in time of freshets, in the spring and fall, doubtless the penobscot disgorges more water; but during the summer and winter months the waters of the androscoggin exceed in quantity. the country through which this river flows, "from brunswick," a few miles from its junction with the kennebeck, "to dixfield, sixty miles distant, is not remarkable in its features; but from the latter place to umbagog lake," the grand reservoir of the androscoggin, "and from phillips, in franklin county, westward, up the megalloway river," the extreme north tributary of the androscoggin, "some thirty or forty miles, the country is said to be wonderful for its mountains." respecting the water power and privileges on this river, colonel a. j. stone, to whom i am chiefly under obligations for the facts involved in this part of my work, says, "i doubt whether there is a state in the union that can show so many as we can on the androscoggin and its tributaries." [illustration: rumford falls, androscoggin river.] "there are now three or four water-falls at rumford, on this river, while anciently there must have been others of greater magnitude, for deep holes are seen worn high up on the rocky banks, where the waters never ran in modern times. now the whole descent is divided into two principal and two minor falls, the first two being from six to ten feet, the middle seventy feet perpendicular, and the fourth twenty feet, while the whole pitch is estimated at one hundred and eighty feet. it is the middle fall, however, that will attract the attention of the traveler, for there the torrent of water pouring down with the noise of thunder, and dashing itself into foam as it chafes the rocky walls, produces an effect full of grandeur."--_geological reports._ "in the distance of half a mile on the river, at this place (brunswick), we have forty-one feet fall (three dams across the river), consequently the water may be used in this distance three times." "by a survey made by the late colonel baldwin, the capacity of the androscoggin is sufficient for carrying two hundred thousand spindles." numerous privileges of the same capacity are of frequent occurrence. all that is requisite to make this river the seat of the most extensive factory operations in the world is capital, and from the superior water power here presented, it is fair to presume that the attention of capitalists may ultimately lead to investments in manufacturing on a magnificent scale. at livermore some incipient movements are making for the erection of factories by a company. at brunswick, a cotton factory, with four thousand six hundred spindles, is already in operation. in relation to the lumbering business on this river, the chief object of attention in noticing this and the rivers already alluded to, there are "from two to three million feet of lumber run down, and about the same amount is purchased (in the log) on the kennebeck, and taken up through merry-meeting bay, and manufactured at brunswick yearly." "five millions are manufactured into boards, and about one million into clap-boards and shingles, &c. about one half of the five millions manufactured into boards are shipped to boston, mass., providence and fall river, r.i., and to the west indies. the remaining half are manufactured here into sugar-box shooks for the havana market." the mean or average price which lumber bears per _m._ here is $ . . the "resources for lumber on this river are very limited. the principal dealers are about leaving the business, though lumber, in small quantities, will probably be run for twenty or thirty years." logs are driven about one hundred and fifty miles, this being the longest drive. others are hauled on to the river within forty miles of brunswick. from the causes alluded to, the androscoggin is not much affected with drought, nor so seriously by freshets as most rivers, the mills being protected by ledges. "the river is very crooked, and when we have an _ice_ freshet, it is piled up in large quantities in the bends of the river, in some instances for five or six miles. such was the case nine years since--also last spring; but the damage to our mills in these two ice freshets was but trifling." [illustration: view of umbagog lake--source of the androscoggin.] umbagog lake, from which the androscoggin takes its rise, from the construction of its shores, acts as a regulator upon the height of the water. when the megalloway rises, it flows into the androscoggin, and raises its waters, so that they run back into the lake for the distance of two miles, having the appearance of a river running back to its source. the androscoggin rises from the western side of the lake, and here is a sluggish stream, with low, grassy banks five feet high, covered with scattering swamp maple-trees. "the megalloway river is extremely serpentine and wild in its course, winding its way amid high mountains, while its banks are composed of sandy loam, covered thickly with maple-trees." [illustration: frye's falls, on a tributary of ellis river.] "the umbagog lake is an irregular, shallow sheet of water, with grassy and boggy shores, and is surrounded by lofty mountains of granite, which in september are clothed with the red and yellow foliage of maple and birch trees, the former greatly predominating, and covering the mountains to their very summits." among other objects of romantic interest are "frye's falls, in andover surplus," upon frye's stream, so called. "this stream rushes over a precipitous mass of granite, gneiss, and mica slate rocks, precipitating itself by a fall of twenty-five feet into a rocky basin below. the chasm is fifteen feet wide, and the basin fifty-five feet broad. here the waters form a beautiful pool, and then leap again, by a second fall of twenty feet, into another larger and shallower reservoir, from which they descend gradually to sawyer's brook, running into ellis river." [illustration: rumford bridge, androscoggin river.] there are about sixty saw-mills on this river and its tributaries, thirty-two of which are at brunswick and topsham; about two hundred shingle machines, most of which manufacture for home consumption; ten only, or thereabouts, manufacture for markets abroad, which cut about three hundred thousand to a machine. average price per _m._, $ . . though there are said to be fifty clap-board machines of some sort on the river, yet only "nine can be reckoned as manufacturing for market," "which, owing to the scanty supply of timber, cut only about fifty _m._" to a machine. average price of clap-boards per _m._, $ . . there are only nine lath machines, which, as is reported, for want of material, cut only about two hundred and fifty thousand to a machine. average price per _m._, $ . . throwing the whole, then, into a tabular form, we have presented for our inspection the results of the lumbering operations on the androscoggin, for the market, as follows: androscoggin. +---------------------------+----------+------------+--------+ | | | average | | | | | price | total. | | | | per m. | | | | +------------+--------+ |no. of saw-mills | . | | | |no. of shingle machines | . | | | |no. of clap-board machines | . | | | |no. of lath machines | . | | | |no. of long lumber | , , .| $ . . | , .| |no. of shingles | , , .| . . | , .| |no. of clap-boards | , .| . . | , .| |no. of laths | , , .| . . | , .| | | | |------- | | | | |$ , .| +---------------------------+----------+------------+--------+ there is also a small amount of lumber manufactured on the presumpscot, a small river about fifty miles long, if we include sebago pond as a connecting link between presumpscot proper and the continuation of the inlet stream, which takes its rise about twenty miles east of the white mountains in new hampshire, running southwest, and finally emptying into casco bay, a few miles north of portland. "there are said to be seventeen falls of water on this river within twenty miles of portland, each affording a good site for mills, and a sufficient volume of water on each pitch to carry eight hundred looms, together with all other needed machinery for such purposes." "sebago lake is a thoroughfare and feeder of the cumberland and oxford canal, and there are between the lake and the sea twenty-six locks of nearly ten feet each, making the fall equal to two hundred and fifty-five feet." the fountains of this river are so springy that "the water never freezes so as to prevent or impede operations," nor are they troubled with droughts; the current is ever-living. at sacarappa, on the presumpscot, there are six saws for long lumber, two shingle and two lath machines. at great falls there are four saws, also four more a few miles up the river, and four shingle and four lath machines. above sebago pond there are also four more saw-mills, the produce of which finds a domestic market in the neighboring towns. the resources for lumber on this river are nearly exhausted, as must be evident from the settled condition of the country through which it runs its short career. having no means by which to ascertain the various amounts of lumber manufactured on this river, i will venture upon a calculation, with a view to make results more tangible, keeping in view the scanty resources lumbermen must have in such a country for logs. there are fourteen saws reported which manufacture for exportation. with a proper head of water and a sufficient number of logs, one saw is capable of cutting a million feet per annum. but, in the absence of the necessary supply of logs, we should feel inclined to limit the amount manufactured per saw to one hundred and fifty thousand feet, board measure, the average price of which is said to be $ per _m._ of lath machines there are six reported, capable, under favorable circumstances, of cutting one million pieces per annum to a machine. but in this instance, from the scanty supply of material, we should not feel warranted in an estimate exceeding two hundred thousand to each machine as the average product, worth probably about the same as similar kinds of lumber on the androscoggin. six shingle machines may be supposed to produce a limited amount of this kind of lumber, for the same general reason assigned for the scanty supply of other kinds. two hundred and fifty thousand to each machine, worth two dollars and fifty cents per _m._, may therefore be considered not extravagant. some attention has been given to factory operations on this river at sacarappa, where there is one mill with three hundred and sixty looms, whether for cotton or wool i am uninformed. table. number of saws manufacturing for market, . number of lath and shingle machines, do., . amount of long lumber , , , at $ . = $ , . number of thousand shingles , , , at . = , . number of thousand laths , , , at . = , . ------ total $ , . though this is comparatively a small lumber operation, still, provided the truth has been approximated in the estimates made, this done annually amounts to no mean revenue, and affords employment to not a few persons, supplying bread for many mouths, and enriching those who conduct the business. while such operations build up many beautiful villages along the romantic banks of those fine streams and rivers where falls occur, they also give an impulse to the farming interests of the country contiguous, and serve as so many little hearts in the great system, whose pulsations vibrate with general intelligence, education, and improved manners throughout the interior. for the principal _facts_ involved in the view given of the presumpscot and its lumbering interests, i am mainly indebted to the kindness of e. clarke, m.d., of portland, maine. the next considerable river is saco, which rises among the white mountains of new hampshire, at the _notch_ near where the ammonoosuc river takes its rise. the saco, from its source to the atlantic ocean, into which it empties, is about one hundred and forty miles in length, its current rapid, and waters clear. in common with many other rivers, some portion of it is exceedingly crooked. within the single town of fryeburg its serpentine windings are said to be thirty-six miles, making in this meandering only four miles on a direct line. fine intervale lands abound in this vicinity, and also in brownfield. there are four noted falls on this river. the first is called _great falls_, at hiram, where the water plunges down a ledge of rugged rocks seventy-two feet. at lemington are the _steep falls_, of twenty feet. at buxton are _salmon falls_, of thirty feet; and ten miles below we come to _saco falls_, where the river is divided by _indian island_, containing thirty acres, and on each side the river tumbles over a precipice of rocks forty-two feet high, and disappears amid the waves of the atlantic. from the east side of the above-named island, which is fertile and pleasant, the appearance of these falls is majestic. this river is easily affected by freshets. at such times the water rises ten feet, and sometimes it has risen twenty-five feet; when in many places it overflows its banks, and makes great havoc with property. this was particularly the case in the great flood of october, , when a large stream, called _new river_, broke out of the _white mountains_, and bore down every thing in its way, till it found a channel in ellis river. the saco, being swelled enormously by this accession to its waters, swept away mills, bridges, domestic animals, and great quantities of lumber. the burst of new river from the mountains was a great phenomenon; and as its waters were of a reddish brown or blood color, the people considered it an ill omen in those times of revolution.[ ] [ ] williamson's history of maine. in regard to the lumbering interests on this river we know but little, save that in years gone by it has constituted a large share of the business done on the river, and that at the present time it has so much diminished as to be comparatively unimportant.[ ] [ ] several letters were written to different gentlemen at saco, such as were named to me by their friends abroad, for information on this subject; but from some cause, they have remained silent, having taken no notice of my letters, which, i am happy to say, forms but _one_, and the only exception to the prompt and intelligent responses the author has received from gentlemen wherever his inquiries have been directed, whether to the province of new brunswick, or to gentlemen in calais, bangor, augusta, brunswick, and portland, maine. chapter vi. new brunswick. object of the chapter.--description of st. john's river.--first falls.--contiguous country.--"mars hill."--prospect.--grand falls. --the acadians, curious facts respecting them.--the mirimachi river.--immense amount of timber shipped.--riots.--state of morals.--the great mirimachi fire.--hurricane.--destruction of human life.--area of the fire.--vessels in harbor.--painfully disgusting sights.--destruction among fish.--fire, rapidity of progress.--curious instance of escape.--ristigouche river, its length.--capacious harbor.--appearance of the country.--high banks.--groves of pine.--a statistical table. with a view to give a general outline of the immense capacities of the strip of country lying east of the st. lawrence, between the latitudes of ° and ° north, i shall include (as the terminus of maine, not regarding geographical lines) that part of the country known as the province of new brunswick, whose lumber in quality has, in years past, quite outrivaled that of maine. the river st. john's, the mississippi of the east, "has a course of nearly six hundred miles from its source, near the chaudière, in lower canada, to where it falls into the bay of fundy. at its entrance into the harbor the river passes through a fissure of solid and overhanging rock, exhibiting every appearance of having been formed by some convulsion of nature. the volume of water collected in a course of so many hundred miles, being here compelled to pass through so narrow a passage as thirteen hundred feet, occasions what are called the falls of st. john's, which are merely a sluice on a grand scale. at times of great floods, the appearance from the overhanging precipices is truly wonderful, and the noise tremendous, particularly on the ebb of tide. the ordinary rise of the tide above the falls is only six feet, and then only when the river is not swollen. the tide must flow twelve feet below before the river becomes passable for vessels; the time for such passage lasts about twenty minutes after the rise of tide creates a fall from below; on the returning tide the water becomes level for the same space of time, and thus only at four times in the twenty-four hours can vessels enter st. john's harbor, in which the rise of tide is from twenty-five to thirty feet. above the falls the river widens, and forms a bay of some magnitude, surrounded by high and rugged woodland. passing up the bay, huge calcareous rocks, and vast, dark pine forests stretch up the sides of lofty hills and promontories." from the city of st. john's, which is contiguous to the falls, up to fredericton (the seat of government), ninety miles distant, there is much to admire in the bays and beautiful islands which dot its limpid waters. a great portion of the land skirting its banks is alluvial, running back to beautiful ridges which swell up in the distance, and "the result is a luxuriant landscape." "for one hundred and thirty miles further the river flows through a fertile wooded country." "sixty-three miles above fredericton are the towns of northampton and woodstock. the next conspicuous place we reach is mars hill, about five miles and a half west of the river st. john's, and one hundred from fredericton. this town has considerable interest attached to it from the circumstance of its being the point fixed on by the british commissioners as the commencement of the range of highlands forming the boundary of the united states. the mountain is about three miles in length, with a base upward of four miles, an elevation of two thousand feet above the sea, and twelve hundred above the source of the st. croix. near the summit it is almost perpendicular. as it is the highest point in its vicinity, the prospect commands a great extent of territory. immediately beneath stretch the vast forests of which the adjacent country is composed, whose undulatory swells, 'clothed with the somber evergreen of the fir, spruce, hemlock, and pine, and the lighter green of the beech, the birch, and maple, resembling, while they exceed, the stupendous waves of the ocean.' about twenty-five miles north, on the st. john's, we come to the grand falls, where the river passes, greatly contracted, between rugged cliffs, overhung with trees, sweeping along a descent of several feet with fearful impetuosity, until the interruption of a ridge of rocks changes the hitherto unbroken volume into one vast body of turbulent foam, which thunders over a perpendicular precipice, about fifty feet in height, into a deep vortex among huge black rocks, when the st. john's rolls out impetuously through a channel still more confined in width over a succession of falls for about a mile, the cliffs here overhanging the river so much as to conceal it." "when the sun's rays fall upon the mists and spray perpetually rising from the cataract, a gorgeous _iris_ is seen floating in the air, waving its rich colors over the white foam, and forming a beautiful contrast with the somber rocks, covered with dark cedars and pines, which overhang the abyss." "the st. john's is much broader above the falls than it is below; and there are but few rapids, and none of them dangerous to navigate." about thirty miles above the falls we come to the 'madawaska settlement, the population of which is estimated at three thousand souls.' "most of the settlers are french neutrals or acadians, who were driven by british violence from their homes in nova scotia (called by the french acadia) on the th of july, . these people at first established themselves above fredericton, and subsequently removed above the grand falls, and effected this settlement. the acadians are a very peculiar people, remarkable for the simplicity of their manners and their fidelity to their employers. although they are said to be 'sharp at a bargain,' they are remarkably honest, industrious, and respectful, and are polite and hospitable to each other and to strangers. it is curious to observe how perfectly they have retained all their french peculiarities. the forms of their houses, the decorations of their apartments, dress, mode of cookery, &c., are exactly such as they originally were in the land of their ancestors. they speak a kind of _patois_, or corrupted french, but perfectly understand the modern language as spoken in paris. but few persons can be found who can understand or speak english, and these are such as, from the necessities of trade, have learned a few words of the language. none of the women or children either understand or speak english. "the acadians are a cheerful, contented, and happy people, social in their intercourse, and never pass each other without a kind salutation. while they thus retain all the marked characteristics of the french peasantry, it is a curious fact that they appear to know but little respecting the country from which they originated, and but few of them have the least idea of its geographical situation. thus we were asked, when we spoke of france, if it were not separated from england by a river, or if it were near the coast of nova scotia; and one inquired if bethlehem, where christ was born, were not a town in france!! since they have no schools, and their knowledge is but traditional, it is not surprising that they should remain thus ignorant of geography and history. i can account for their understanding the pure french language from the circumstance that they are supplied with catholic priests from the mother country, who of course speak to them in that tongue. those who visit madawaska must remember that no money passes current there but silver, for the people do not know how to read, and will not take bank-notes, as they have often been imposed upon, since they are unable to distinguish a £ from a $ or five shilling note. as there are no regular taverns in this settlement, every family the traveler calls upon will furnish accommodations, for which they expect a reasonable compensation, and he will be always sure of kind treatment, which is beyond price. i have been thus particular to speak of the acadian settlers of madawaska, because little is generally known of their manners and customs, many people having the idea that they are demi-savages, because, like the aboriginal inhabitants, they live principally by hunting."[ ] [ ] dr. jackson's geological reports. there are several important tributaries to the st. john's, and among them mention may be made of the aroostook, which, from its historical associations with the boundary question between the states and great britain, has become familiar to all. "this river is a broad and beautiful stream, having a gradual descent, free from obstructions, so that a raft may run to the falls at its confluence with the st. john's," a distance of over one hundred miles. "its bottom is composed of pebbles for the principal part of its course, and there are a few low islands in its midst." the soil varies on different sections of the river as you pass down, sometimes being of a "chocolate brown" or "yellow loam," the latter being in some places covered with "a black vegetable mold several inches deep." the country around is covered with a majestic grove, composed of towering pines, rock-maple, and the various birches, spruce, fir, &c. where the attempt has been made, the soil is found to be exceedingly productive. its principal products are square timber, hewn from the giant pines found upon its borders, and sugar, produced from the sap of the rock-maple, magnificent groves of which grow upon its banks. beds of iron ore are found in its vicinity, and in some places limestone abounds; 'and, from indications, it is highly probable that beds of anthracite coal will, when necessity shall prompt investigation, be found in its vicinity.' in an agricultural point of view, it has been remarked, by competent judges, that "there were never greater natural advantages offered to the farmer than are to be found upon this river," and that it "will" in time "become, as it is destined by nature to be, the granary of the north." [illustration: aroostook falls, on aroostook river.] among the most interesting objects to be met are the ox-bow and aroostook falls. the former consists of a crook in the river, which "forms a curvature of one mile, while the neck of land included between the two portions of the curve is but twenty rods across, so that it is customary for the indians to carry their canoes over this portage." the falls occur near its junction with the st. john's. "the water is very rapid, and rushes over ledges of slate and limestone rocks for three fourths of a mile." "then the river precipitates itself over a steep and broken ledge fifteen feet into a wide basin below." in the rocks there are "pot-holes," "five feet in diameter and four feet deep," "worn in the limestone by the grinding motion of rounded stones moved by the impetuous current." the reader will see in the cut a picturesque view of a section of this beautiful water-fall, with its high ledges, overhung with a heavy growth of cedar-trees. the country in the vicinity of the falls "becomes more elevated, and lofty precipices of limestone and calciferous slate rise on each bank of the river, while the country in the rear is broken, hilly, and covered with an abundant mixed growth of forest trees." we next turn our attention to the "mirimachi," one of the principal rivers of the province, "which falls into the gulf of st. lawrence in ° ' north latitude, ° ' west longitude, forming at its estuary a capacious bay, with several islands, and a ship channel for vessels of seven hundred tons burden, and navigable upward of thirty miles from the sea. chatham, douglass, and newcastle are the principal towns, situated on the banks of the river, about twenty-five miles from its mouth. at these settlements upward of two hundred vessels annually load with timber for great britain, &c. seven miles above chatham the mirimachi divides into two branches, one running southwest and the other northwest. the southwest branch of the river contains more water than the river thames from london upward. the sea-coast of mirimachi is low, but inland the country rises in some places, consisting of extensive and rich intervales, in others of a rugged, rocky territory." this river is particularly prominent, in the history of new brunswick, for the astonishing amount of ton timber which was formerly procured from the territory bordering it, and as the scene of a bloody and protracted riot on the part of the irish population, chiefly emigrants, who rose _en masse_, and attempted to drive the americans, who had flocked there in large numbers, from the country. desperate encounters took place from time to time between small parties, but the americans maintained their ground against fearful odds, and after the lapse of a few months quiet and order again prevailed. but in a more particular and impressive sense will the mirimachi be remembered as the scene of one of the "most terrible natural conflagrations of which we have any record in the history of the world." the annexed account[ ] will be found deeply interesting. [ ] history of nova scotia and new brunswick. "the person who has never been out of europe," and, we may add, out of _our_ cities and older portions of country in the states, "can have little conception of the fury and rapidity with which fires rage after a continuation of hot seasons in north america and new holland, when the dry underwood and fallen leaves, in addition to the resinous quality of the timber, afford combustible materials in the greatest abundance. i have seen the side of a mountain thirty miles long burning in new holland, and illumining the sky for many miles; but the following description by an eye-witness (mr. coony), of the great mirimachi fire, exceeds any thing of the kind that ever occurred." "the summer of was unusually warm in both hemispheres, particularly in america, where its effects were fatally visible in the prevalence of epidemical disorders. during july and august, extensive fires raged in different parts of nova scotia, especially in the eastern division of the peninsula. the protracted drought of the summer, acting upon the aridity of the forests, had rendered them more than naturally combustible; and this, facilitating both the dispersion and the progress of the fires that appeared in the early part of the season, produced an unusual warmth. on the th of october, the fire was evidently approaching new castle; at different intervals fitful blazes and flashes were observed to issue from different parts of the woods, particularly up the northwest, at the rear of new castle, in the vicinity of douglasstown and moorfields, and along the banks of the bartibog. many persons heard the crackling of falling trees and shriveled branches, while a hoarse, rumbling noise, not dissimilar to the roaring of distant thunder, and divided by pauses, like the intermittent discharges of artillery, was distinct and audible. on the th of october the heat increased to such a degree, and became so very oppressive, that many complained of its enervating effects. about twelve o'clock, a pale, sickly mist, lightly tinged with purple, emerged from the forest and settled over it. "this cloud soon retreated before a large dark one, which, occupying its place, wrapped the firmament in a pall of vapor. this encumbrance retaining its position till about three o'clock, the heat became tormentingly sultry. there was not a breath of air; the atmosphere was overloaded; and irresistible lassitude seized the people. a stupefying dullness seemed to pervade every place but the woods, which now trembled, and rustled, and shook with an incessant and thrilling noise of explosions, rapidly following each other, and mingling their reports with a discordant variety of loud and boisterous sounds. at this time the whole country appeared to be encircled by a _fiery zone_, which, gradually contracting its circle by the devastation it had made, seemed as if it would not converge into a point while any thing remained to be destroyed. a little after four o'clock, an immense pillar of smoke rose, in a vertical direction, at some distance northwest of new castle for a while, and the sky was absolutely blackened by this huge cloud; but a light northerly breeze springing up, it gradually distended, and then dissipated into a variety of shapeless mists. about an hour after, or probably at half past five, innumerable large spires of smoke, issuing from different parts of the woods, and illuminated by flames that seemed to pierce them, mounted the sky. a heavy and suffocating canopy, extending to the utmost verge of observation, and appearing more terrific by the vivid flashes and blazes that darted irregularly through it, now hung over new castle and douglass in threatening suspension, while showers of flaming brands, calcined leaves, ashes, and cinders seemed to scream through the growling noise that prevailed in the woods. about nine o'clock (p.m.), or shortly after, a succession of loud and appalling roars thundered through the forests. peal after peal, crash after crash, announced the sentence of destruction. every succeeding shock created fresh alarm; every clap came loaded with its own destructive energy. with greedy rapidity did the flames advance to the devoted scene of their ministry; nothing could impede their progress. they removed every obstacle by the desolation they occasioned, and _several hundred miles of prostrate forests_ and smitten woods marked their devastating way. "the river, tortured into violence by the hurricane, foamed with rage, and flung its boiling spray upon the land. the thunder pealed along the vault of heaven--the lightning appeared to rend the firmament. for a moment all was still, and a deep and awful silence reigned over every thing. all nature appeared to be hushed, when suddenly a lengthened and sullen roar came booming through the forests, driving a thousand massive and devouring flames before it. then new castle and douglasstown, and the whole northern side of the river, extending from bartibog to the naashwaak, a distance of more than one hundred miles in length, became enveloped in an immense sheet of flame, that spread over nearly _six thousand square miles_! that the stranger may form a faint idea of the desolation and misery which no pen can describe, he must picture to himself a large and rapid river, thickly settled for one hundred miles or more on both sides of it. he must also fancy four thriving towns, two on each side of this river, and then reflect that these towns and settlements were all composed of wooden houses, stores, stables, and barns; that these barns and stables were filled with crops, and that the arrival of the fall importations had stocked the warehouses and stores with spirits, powder, and a variety of combustible articles, as well as with the necessary supplies for the approaching winter. he must then remember that the cultivated or settled part of the river is but a long, narrow strip, about a quarter of a mile wide, lying between the river and almost interminable forests, stretching along the very edge of its precincts and all around it. extending his conception, he will see the forests thickly expanding over more than six thousand square miles, and absolutely parched into tinder by the protracted heat of a long summer. "let him then animate the picture by scattering countless tribes of wild animals, and hundreds of domestic ones, and even thousands of men in the interior. having done all this, he will have before him a feeble outline of the extent, features, and general circumstances of the country which, in the course of a few hours, was suddenly enveloped in fire. a more ghastly or a more revolting picture of human misery can not well be imagined. "the whole district of cultivated land was shrouded in the agonizing memorials of some dreadful deforming havoc. the songs of gladness that formerly resounded through it were no longer heard, for the voice of misery had hushed them. nothing broke upon the ear but the accents of distress; the eye saw nothing but ruin, and desolation, and death. new castle, yesterday a flourishing town, full of trade and spirit, and containing nearly one thousand inhabitants, was now a heap of smoking ruins; and douglasstown, nearly one third of its size, was reduced to the same miserable condition. of the two hundred and sixty houses and store-houses that composed the former, but twelve remained; and of the seventy that comprised the latter, but six were left. the confusion on board of one hundred and fifty large vessels, then lying in the mirimachi, and exposed to imminent danger, was terrible--some burned to the water's edge, others burning, and the remainder occasionally on fire. "dispersed groups of half-famished, half-naked, and houseless creatures, all more or less injured in their persons, many lamenting the loss of some property, or children, or relations and friends, were wandering through the country. of the human bodies, some were seen with their bowels protruding, others with the flesh all consumed, and the blackened skeletons smoking; some with headless trunks and severed extremities; some bodies burned to cinders, others reduced to ashes; many bloated and swollen by suffocation, and several lying in the last distorted position of convulsing torture; brief and violent was their passage from life to death, and rude and melancholy was their sepulcher--'unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown.' the immediate loss of life was upward of five hundred beings! thousands of wild beasts, too, had perished in the woods, and from their putrescent carcasses issued streams of effluvium and stench that formed contagious domes over the dismantled settlements. domestic animals of all kinds lay dead and dying in different parts of the country. myriads of salmon, trout, bass, and other fish, which, poisoned by the alkali formed by the ashes precipitated into the river, now lay dead or floundering and gasping on the scorched shores and beaches, and the countless variety of wild fowl and reptiles shared a similar fate." such was the violence of the hurricane, that large bodies of ignited timber, and portions of the trunks of trees, and severed limbs, and also parts of flaming buildings, shingles, boards, &c., were hurried along through the frowning heavens with terrible velocity, outstripping the fleetest horses, spreading destruction far in the advance, thus cutting off retreat. the shrieks of the affrighted inhabitants mingling with the discordant bellowing of cattle, the neighing of horses, the howling of dogs, and the strange notes of distress and fright from other domestic animals, strangely blending with the roar of the flames and the thunder of the tornado, beggars description. their only means of safety was the river, to which there was a simultaneous rush, seizing whatever was buoyant, however inadequate; many attempted to effect a crossing; some succeeded; others failed, and were drowned. one woman actually seized an ox by the tail just as he plunged into the river, and was safely towed to the opposite shore. those who were unable to make their escape across plunged into the water to their necks, and, by a constant application of water to the head while in this submerged condition, escaped the dreadful burning. in some portions of the country the cattle were nearly all destroyed. whole crews of men, camping in the interior, and engaged in timber-making, were consumed. such was the awful conflagration of on the mirimachi. this event, of course, put a great check upon the lumbering operations of that section; but since that period, the places named, "phoenix-like, have risen from their ashes finer towns than they were before the period of that terrific conflagration." hundreds of shipping annually load with lumber, which is exported to the mother country. the next considerable river in this region is the ristigouche, larger than the mirimachi, "two hundred and twenty miles long." "the entrance to this river is about three miles wide, formed by two high promontories of red sandstone." "for eighteen miles up this river, one continuous, safe, and commodious harbor for the largest class of ships is found." "two hundred miles from its embouchure, whither the tide flows, it is upward of a mile wide; and from thence to within forty miles of its source it is navigable for barges and canoes." "the appearance of the country" on this river "is exceedingly grand and impressive; wherever the eye wanders, nothing is to be seen but an immeasurable dispersion of gigantic hills, with an infinite number of lakes and streams, glens and valleys. some of the mountains are clothed with the tall and beautiful pine; others sustain a fine growth of hard-wood; many have swampy summits, and several terminate in rich meadows and plains; in form some are conical, others exhibit considerable rotundity, many lank and attenuated, and not a few of most grotesque shapes. sometimes the precipitous banks of the river are three hundred feet above its bed. seventy miles from the sea the country becomes comparatively level, and all the way to the head of the ristigouche is a fine, bold, open territory, consisting of a rich upland, skirted with large tracks of intervale, and covered with a dense and unviolated growth of mixed wood, in which large groves of pine are very conspicuous." on this river the pine is said to be of a very superior quality. other rivers might be named of no ordinary interest and capacity. the following table gives an account of the lumbering installments and products of new brunswick, as taken from the "history of nova scotia, cape breton," &c., &c.: column a = establishments for sawing, &c. +--------------+----+-------------+-----------+----------+---------+ | | |estimated | | |number of| | | |value of | | |men | | | |all mills, |estimated |estimated |employed | | | |including all|quantity of|value of |in | | | |improvements:|lumber |lumber |logging, | | counties | a |viz., |sawed at |sawed and |sawing, | | | |privilege, |the mills |carried to|and | | | |site, |during the |places of |bringing | | | |sluices, |year. |shipment. |to | | | |land, dams | | |places of| | | |and piers. | | |shipment.| +--------------+----+-------------+-----------+----------+---------+ | | | £. | feet. | £. | | |st. john's | | , | , , | , | | |king's | | , | , , | , | | |gloucester | | , | , , | , | | |westmoreland. | | , | , , | , | | |kent | | , | , , | , | | |northumberland| | , | , , | , | | |sudbury | | , | , , | , | | |queen's | | , | , , | , | | |charlotte | | , | , , | , | , | |york | | , | , , | , | | | +----+-------------+-----------+----------+---------+ | grand total | | , | , , | , | , | +--------------+----+-------------+-----------+----------+---------+ to this amount of manufactured lumber may be added about two hundred and fifty thousand tons of square timber; this is not far from the annual amount manufactured in this province. four dollars per ton is about a medium price; this gives a product of $ , , . to this we may add, as the product of masts, staves, shingles, per annum, $ , .[ ] [ ] having no data upon which to form an estimate of the amount of these products, we simply give this result as problematical. it probably falls short very far of the true annual value. grand total of the lumbering produce in dollars, reckoning four dollars to the pound: long lumber $ , , square timber , , other lumber as above , --------- $ , , . the end. * * * * * glimpses of the past. history of the river st. john a. d. - . by rev. w. o. raymond, ll.d. st. john, n. b. . * * * * * [illustration: samuel de champlain. discoverer of the river st. john. the father of new france. born at brouage in . died at quebec, dec. , .] preface. born and reared upon the banks of the river saint john, i have always loved it, and have found a charm in the study of everything that pertains to the history of those who have dwelt beside its waters. in connection with the ter-centenary of the discovery of the river by de monts and champlain, on the memorable th of june, , the chapters which follow were contributed, from time to time, to the saturday edition of the saint john _daily telegraph_. with the exception of a few minor corrections and additions, these chapters are reprinted as they originally appeared. some that were hurriedly written, under pressure of other and more important work, might be revised with advantage. little attempt at literary excellence has been practicable. i have been guided by an honest desire to get at the facts of history, and in so doing have often quoted the exact language of the writers by whom the facts were first recorded. the result of patient investigation, extending over several years, in the course of which a multitude of documents had to be consulted, is a more elaborate and reliable history of the saint john river region than has yet appeared in print. the period covered extends from the discovery of the river in to the coming of the loyalists in . it is possible that the story may one day be continued in a second volume. at the conclusion of this self-appointed task, let me say to the reader, in the words of montaigne, "i bring you a nosegay of culled flowers, and i have brought little of my own but the string that ties them." w. o. raymond. st john, n. b., december, . errata. page , line . after word "and," the rest of the line should read--"beautiful islands below the mouth of." page , line . the last half of this line is inverted. glimpses of the past. incidents in the history of the st. john river. chapter i. the maliseets. the indian period of our history possesses a charm peculiarly its own. when european explorers first visited our shores the indian roamed at pleasure through his broad forest domain. its wealth of attractions were as yet unknown to the hunter, the fisherman and the fur-trader. rude as he was the red man could feel the charms of the wilderness in which he dwelt. the voice of nature was not meaningless to one who knew her haunts so well. the dark recesses of the forest, the sunny glades of the open woodland, the mossy dells, the sparkling streams and roaring mountain torrents, the quiet lakes, the noble river flowing onward to the sea with islands here and there embosomed by its tide--all were his. the smoke of his wigwam fire curled peacefully from indian village and temporary encampment. he might wander where he pleased with none to say him nay. but before the inflowing tide of the white-man's civilization the indian's supremacy vanished as the morning mist before the rising sun. the old hunting grounds are his no longer. his descendants have long ago been forced to look for situations more remote. the sites of the ancient villages on interval and island have long since been tilled by the thrifty farmer's hands. but on the sites of the old camping grounds the plough share still turns up relics that carry us back to the "stone age." a careful study of these relics will tell us something about the habits and customs of the aborigines before the coming of the whites. and we have another source of information in the quaint tales and legends that drift to us out of the dim shadows of the past, which will always have peculiar fascination for the student of indian folk-lore. with the coming of the whites the scene changes and the simplicity of savage life grows more complicated. the change is not entirely for the better; the hardships of savage life are ameliorated, it is true, but the indian learns the vices of civilization. the native races naturally play a leading part in early acadian history, nor do they always appear in a very amiable light. the element of fierceness and barbarity, which seems inherent in all savage races, was not wanting in the indians of the river st. john. they united with their neighbours in most of the wars waged with the whites and took their full share in those bloody forays which nearly annihilated many of the infant settlements of maine and new hampshire. the early annals of eastern new england tell many a sad story of the sacrifice of innocent lives, of women and children carried into captivity and homes made desolate by savage hands. and yet, it may be that with all his faults the red man has been more sinned against than sinning. many years ago the provincial government sent commissioners to the indian village of medoctec on the st. john river, where the indians from time immemorial had built their wigwams and tilled their cornfields and where their dead for many generations had been laid to rest in the little graveyard by the river side. the object of the commissioners was to arrange for the location of white settlers at medoctec. the government claimed the right to dispossess the indians on the ground that the lands surrounding their village were in the gift of the crown. the indians, not unnaturally, were disinclined to part with the heritage of their forefathers. on their arrival at the historic camping ground the commissioners made known the object of their visit. presently several stalwart captains, attired in their war paint and feathers and headed by their chief, appeared on the scene. after mutual salutations the commissioners asked: "by what right or title do you hold these lands?" the tall, powerful chief stood erect, and with the air of a plumed knight, pointing within the walk of the little enclosure beside the river, replied: "there are the graves of our grandfathers! there are graves of our fathers! there are the graves of our children!" to this simple native eloquence the commissioners felt they had no fitting reply, and for the time being the maliseets remained undisturbed. it in not necessary to discuss at length the origin of the indians who lived on the banks of the st. john at the time the country became known to europeans. whether or not the ancestors of our indians were the first inhabitants of that region it is difficult to determine. the indians now living on the st. john are maliseets, but it is thought by many that the micmacs at one time, possessed the valley of the river and gradually gave place to the maliseets, as the latter advanced from the westward. there is a tradition among the st. john river indians that the micmacs and maliseets were originally one people and that the maliseets after a while "went off by themselves and picked up their own language." this the micmacs regarded as a mongrel dialect and gave to the new tribe the name maliseet (or milicete), a word derived from mal-i-see-jik--"he speaks badly." however, in such matters, tradition is not always a safe guide. it is more probable the two tribes had an independent origin, the micmacs being the earlier inhabitants of acadia, while the maliseets, who are an offshoot of the abenaki (or wabenaki) nation, spread eastward from the kennebec to the penobscot and thence to the st. john. the indians who are now scattered over this area very readily understand one another's speech, but the language of the micmacs is unintelligible to them. the micmacs seem to have permitted their neighbors to occupy the st. john river without opposition, their own preference inclining them to live near the coast. the opinion long prevailed in acadia that the maliseets, were a more powerful and ferocious tribe than the micmacs; nevertheless there is no record or tradition of any conflict between them. that the maliseets have for centuries inhabited the valley of the river st. john is indicated by the fact that the indian names of rivers, lakes, islands and mountains, which have been retained by the whites, are nearly all of maliseet origin. nevertheless the micmacs frequented the mouth of the st. john river after the arrival of europeans, for we learn that the jesuit missionary, enemond masse, passed the winter of - at st. john in the family of louis membertou, a micmac, in order to perfect himself in the micmac language, which he had already studied to some extent at port royal. the elder membertou, father of the indian here named, was, perhaps, the most remarkable chieftain acadia ever produced. his sway as grand sagamore of the micmac nation extended from gaspe to cape sable. in the year he had welcomed the great explorer jacques cartier to the shores of eastern new brunswick, as seventy years later he welcomed de monts and poutrincourt to port royal. the jesuit missionary, pierre biard, describes membertou as "the greatest, most renowned and most formidable savage within the memory of man; of splendid physique, taller and larger limbed than is usual among them; bearded like a frenchmen, although scarcely any of the others have hair upon the chin; grave and reserved with a proper sense of the dignity of his position as commander." "in strength of mind, in knowledge of war, in the number of his followers, in power and in the renown of a glorious name among his countrymen, and even his enemies, he easily surpassed the sagamores who had flourished during many preceding ages." in the year pennoniac, one of the chiefs of acadia, went with de monts and champlain as guide on the occasion of their voyage along the shores of new england and was killed by some of the savages near saco. bessabez, the sagamore of the penobscot indians, allowed the body of the dead chief to be taken home by his friends to port royal and its arrival was the signal of great lamentation. membertou was at this time an old man, but although his hair was white with the frosts of a hundred winters, like moses of old, his eye was not dim nor his natural force abated. he decided that the death of pennoniac must be avenged. messengers were sent to call the tribes of acadia and in response to the summons warriors assembled at port royal. the maliseets joined in the expedition. the great flotilla of war canoes was arranged in divisions, each under its leader, the whole commanded by membertou in person. as the morning sun reflected in the still waters of port royal the noiseless procession of canoes, crowned by the tawny faces and bodies of the savage warriors, smeared with pigments of various colors, the sight struck the french spectators with wonder and astonishment. uniting with their allies of the river st. john, the great war party sped westward over the waters of the bay of fundy and along the coast till they reached the land of the armouchiquois. here they met and defeated their enemies after a hard-fought battle in which bessabez and many of his captains were slain, and the allies returned in triumph to acadia singing their songs of victory. the situation of the maliseets on the river st. john was not without its advantages, and they probably obtained as good a living as any tribe of savages in canada. remote from the war paths of the fiercer tribes they hunted in safety. their forests were filled with game, the rivers teemed with fish and the lakes with water fowl; the sea shore was easy of access, the intervals and islands were naturally adapted to the cultivation of indian corn, wild grapes grew luxuriantly along the river banks, there were berries in the woods and the sagaabum (or indian potato) was abundant. communication with all arts of the surrounding country was easily had by means of the short portages that separated the sources of interlacing rivers and with his light bark canoe the indian could travel in any direction his necessity or his caprice might dictate. the characteristics of the indians of acadia, whether micmacs or maliseets, were in the main identical; usually they were closely allied and not infrequently intermarried their manners and habits have been described with much fidelity by champlain, lescarbot, denys and other early explorers. equally accurate and interesting is the graphic description of the savages contained in the narrative of the jesuit missionary pierre biard, who came to america in and during his sojourn visited the st. john river and places adjacent making port royal his headquarters. his narrative, "a relation of new france, of its lands, nature of the country and of its inhabitants," was printed at lyons in . a few extracts, taken from the splendid edition of the jesuit relations recently published at cleveland, will suffice to show that pierre biard was not only an intelligent observer but that he handled the pen of a ready writer. "i have said before," he observes, "that the whole country is simply an interminable forest; for there are no open spaces except upon the margins of the sea, lakes and rivers. in several places we found the grapes and wild vines which ripened in their season. it was not always the best ground where found them, being full of sand and gravel like that of bourdeaux. there are a great many of these grapes at st. john river in degrees of latitude, where also are to be seen many walnut (or butternut), and hazel trees." this quotation will show how exact and conscientious the old french missionary was in his narration. beamish murdoch in ibis history of nova scotia (vol. , p. ) ventures the observation, "it may perhaps be doubted if the french account about grapes is accurate, as they mention them to have been growing on the banks of the saint john where, if wild grapes exist, they must be rare." but biard is right and murdoch is wrong. wild grapes naturally grow in great abundance on the islands and intervals of the river st. john and, in spite of the interference of the farmers, are still to be found as far north at least in woodstock. biard visited the st. john river in october, , and stayed a day or two at a small trading post on an island near oak point. one of the islands in that vicinity the early english settlers afterwards called "isle of vines," from the circumstance that wild grapes grew there in great profusion. we quote next father biard's description of the indian method of encampment: "arrived at a certain place, the first thing they do is to build a fire and arrange their camp, which they will have finished in an hour or two; often in half an hour. the women go into the woods and bring back some poles which are stuck into the ground in a circle around the fire and at the top are interlaced in the form of a pyramid, so that they come together directly over the fire, for there is the chimney. upon the poles they throw some skins, matting or bark. at the foot of the poles under the skins they put their baggage. all the space around the fire is strewn with soft boughs of the fire tree, so they will not feel the dampness of the ground; over these boughs are thrown some mats or seal skins as soft as velvet; upon these they stretch themselves around the fire with their heads resting upon their baggage; and, what no one would believe, they are very warm in there around that little fire, even in the greatest rigors of the winter. they do not camp except near some good water, and in an attractive location." the aboriginies of acadia when the country became known to europeans, no doubt lived as their ancestors had lived from time immemorial. a glimpse of the life of the indian in prehistoric times is afforded us in the archæological remains of the period. these are to be found at such places as bocabec, in charlotte county, at grand lake in queens county, and at various points along the st. john river. dr. l. w. bailey, dr. geo. f. matthew, dr. w. f. ganong, james vroom, and others have given considerable attention to these relics and they were studied also to some extent by their predecessors in the field of science, dr. robb, dr. gesner and moses h. perley. the relics most commonly brought to light include stone implements, such as axes, hammers, arrow heads, lance and spear heads, gouges and chisels, celts or wedges, corn crushers, and pipes; also bone implements such as needles, fish hooks and harpoons, with specimens of rude pottery. when champlain first visited our shores the savages had nothing better than stone axes to use in clearing their lands. it is to their credit that with such rude implements they contrived to hack down the trees and, after burning the branches and trunk, planted their corn among the stumps and in the course of time took out the roots. in cultivating the soil they used an implement of very hard wood, shaped like a spade, and their method of raising corn, as described by champlain, was exactly the same as that of our farmers today. the corn fields at the old medoctic fort were cultivated by the indians many years before the coming of the whites. cadillac, writing in , says: "the maliseets are well shaped and tolerably warlike; they attend to the cultivation of the soil and grow the most beautiful indian corn; their fort is at medocktek." many other choice spots along the st. john river were tilled in very early times, including, probably, the site of the old government house at fredericton, where there was an indian encampment long before the place was dreamed of as the site of the seat of government of the province. lescarbot, the historian, who wrote in , tells us that the indians were accustomed to pound their corn in a mortar (probably of wood) in order to reduce it to meal. of this they afterwards made a paste, which was baked between two stones heated at the fire. frequently the corn was roasted on the ear. yet another method is thus described by the english captive, john gyles, who lived as a captive with the st. john river indians in : "to dry the corn when in the milk, they gather it in large kettles and boil it on the ears till it is pretty hard, then shell it from the cob with clam shells and dry it on bark in the sun. when it is thoroughly dry a kernel is no bigger than a pea, and will keep years; and when it is boiled again it swells as large as when on the ear and tastes incomparably sweeter than other corn. when we had gathered our corn and dried it in the way described, we put some of it into indian barns, that is into hole in the ground lined and covered with bark and then with earth. the rest we carried up the river upon our next winter's hunting." the indians were a very improvident race, and in this respect the maliseets were little better than the micmacs, of whom pierre biard writes: "they care little about the future and are not urged on to work except by present necessity. as long as they have anything they are always celebrating feasts and having songs dances and speeches. if there is a crowd of them you certainly need not expect anything else. nevertheless if they are by themselves and where they may safely listen to their wives, for women are everywhere the best managers, they will sometimes make storehouses for the winter where they will keep smoked meat, roots, shelled acorns, peas, beans, etc." although the indians living on the st. john paid some attention to the cultivation of the soil there can be no doubt that hunting and fishing were always their chief means of support. in champlain's day the implements of the chase were very primitive. yet they were able to hunt the largest game by taking advantage of the deep snow and making use of their snow-shoes. champlain says. "they search for the track of animals, which, having found, they follow until they get sight of the creature, when they shoot at it with their bows or kill it by means of daggers attached to the end of a short pike. then the women and children come up, erect a hut and they give themselves to feasting. afterwards they proceed in search of other animals and thus they pass the winter. this is the mode of life of these people, which seems to me a very miserable one." there can be little doubt that wild game was vastly more abundant in this country, when it was discovered by europeans, than it is today. in the days of la tour and charnisay as many as three thousand moose skins were collected on the st. john in a single year, and smaller game was even more abundant. wild fowl ranged the coasts and marshes and frequented the rivers in incredible numbers. biard says that at certain seasons they were so abundant on the islands that by the skilful use of a club right and left they could bring down birds as big as a duck with every blow. denys speaks of immense flocks of wild pidgeons. but the indian's food supply was not limited to these; the rivers abounded with salmon and other fish, turtles were common along the banks of the river, and their eggs, which they lay in the sand, were esteemed a great delicacy, as for the musquash it is regarded as the "indian's turkey." a careful examination of the relics discovered at the sites of the old camping grounds suffices to confirm the universal testimony of early writers regarding the nomadic habits of the indians. they were a restless race of people, for ever wandering from place to place as necessity or caprice impelled them. at one time they were attracted to the sea side where clams, fish and sea fowl abounded; at another they preferred the charms of the inland waters. sometimes the mere love of change led them to forsake one camping place and remove to some other favorite spot. when game was scarce they were compelled by sheer necessity to seek new hunting grounds. at the proper season they made temporary encampments for salmon fishing with torch and spear. anon they tilled their cornfields on the intervals and islands. they had a saying: "when the maple leaf is as big as a squirrel's foot it is time to plant corn." occasionally the outbreak of some pestilence broke up their encampments and scattered them in all directions. in time of peace they moved leisurely, but in time of war their action was much more vigorous and flotillas of their bark canoes skimmed swiftly over the lakes and rivers bearing the dusky warriors against the enemies of their race. many a peaceful new england hamlet was startled by their midnight war-whoop when danger was little looked for. it is a common belief in our day that the indians were formerly more numerous than they now are. exactly the same opinion seems to have prevailed when the country was first discovered, but it is really very doubtful whether there were ever many more indians in the country than there are today. in the year biard described them as so few in number that they might be said to roam over rather than to possess the country. he estimated the maliseets, or etchemins, as less than a thousand in number "scattered over wide spaces, as is natural for those who live by hunting and fishing." today the indians of maine and new brunswick living within the same area as the etchemins of , number considerably more than a thousand souls. there are, perhaps, as many indians in the maritime provinces now as in the days of champlain. as hannay observes, in his history of acadia, excellent reasons existed to prevent the indians from ever becoming very numerous. a wilderness country can only support a limited population. the hunter must draw his sustenance from a very wide range of territory, and the life of toil and privation to which the indian was exposed was fatal to all but the strongest and most hardy. one of the most striking indian characteristics is the keenness of perception by which they are enabled to track their game or find their way through pathless forests without the aid of chart or compass. the indian captive, gyles, relates the following incident which may be mentioned in this connection: "i was once travelling a little way behind several indians and, hearing them laugh merrily, when i came up i asked them the cause of their laughter. they showed me the track of a moose, and how a wolverene had climbed a tree, and where he had jumped off upon the moose. it so happened that after the moose had taken several large leaps it came under the branch of a tree, which, striking the wolverene, broke his hold and tore him off; and by his tracks in the snow it appeared he went off another way with short steps, as if he had been stunned by the blow that had broken his hold. the indians were wonderfully pleased that the moose had thus outwitted the mischievous wolverene." the early french writers all notice the skill and ingenuity of the savages, in adapting their mode of life to their environment. nicholas denys, who came to acadia in , gives a very entertaining and detailed account of their ways of life and of their skillful handicraft. the snowshoe and the indian bark canoe aroused his special admiration. he says they also made dishes of bark, both large and small, sewing them so nicely with slender rootlets of fir that they retained water. they used in their sewing a pointed bodkin of bone, and they sometimes adorned their handiwork with porcupine quills and pigments. their kettles used to be of wood before the french supplied them with those of metal. in cooking, the water was readily heated to the boiling point by the use of red-hot stones which they put in and took out of their wooden kettle. until the arrival of europeans the natives were obliged to clothe themselves with skins of the beaver and other animals. the women made all the garments, but champlain did not consider them very good tailoresses. like most savage races the indians were vain and consequential. biard relates that a certain sagamore on hearing that the young king of france was unmarried, observed: "perhaps i may let him marry my daughter, but the king must make me some handsome presents, namely, four or five barrels of bread, three of peas and beans, one of tobacco, four or five cloaks worth one hundred sous apiece, bows, arrows, harpoons, and such like articles." courtship and marriage among the maliseets is thus described by john gyles: "if a young fellow determines to marry, his relations and the jesuit advise him to a girl, he goes into the wigwam where she is and looks on her. if he likes her appearance, he tosses a stick or chip into her lap which she takes, and with a shy side-look views the person who sent it; yet handles the chip with admiration as though she wondered from whence it came. if she likes him she throws the chip to him with a smile, and then nothing is wanting but a ceremony with the jesuit to consummate the marriage. but if she dislikes her suitor she with a surly countenance throws the chip aside and he comes no more there." an indian maiden educated to make "monoodah," or indian bags, birch dishes and moccasins, to lace snowshoes, string wampum belts, sew birch canoes and boil the kettle, was esteemed a lady of fine accomplishments. the women, however, endured many hardships. they were called upon to prepare and erect the cabins, supply them with fire, wood and water, prepare the food, go to bring the game from the place where it had been killed, sew and repair the canoes, mend and stretch the skins, curry them and make clothes and moccasins for the whole family. biard says: "they go fishing and do the paddling, in short they undertake all the work except that alone of the grand chase. their husbands sometimes beat them unmercifully and often for a very slight cause." since the coming of the whites the maliseets have had few quarrels with the neighboring tribes of indians. they entertained, however, a dread of the mohawks, and there are many legends that have been handed down to us which tell of their fights with these implacable foes. one of the most familiar--that of the destruction of the mohawk war party at the grand falls--told by the indians to the early settlers on the river soon after their arrival in the country and has since been rehearsed in verse by roberts and hannay and in prose by lieut.-governor gordon in his "wilderness journeys," by dr. rand in his indian legends and by other writers. john gyles, the english captive at medoctec village in , relates the following ridiculous incident, which sufficiently shows the unreasonable terror inspired in the mind of the natives of the river in his day by the very name of mohawk: "one very hot season a great number of indians gathered at the village, and being a very droughty people they kept james alexander and myself night and day fetching water from a cold spring that ran out of a rocky hill about three-quarters of a mile from the fort.[ ] in going thither we crossed a large interval corn field and then a descent to a lower interval before we ascended the hill to the spring. james being almost dead as well as i with this continual fatigue contrived (a plan) to fright the indians. he told me of it, but conjured me to secrecy. the next dark night james going for water set his kettle on the descent to the lowest interval, and ran back to the fort puffing and blowing as in the utmost surprise, and told his master that he saw something near the spring which looked like mohawks (which he said were only stumps--aside): his master being a most courageous warrior went with james to make discovery, and when they came to the brow of the hill, james pointed to the stumps, and withal touched his kettle with his toe, which gave it motion down hill, and at every turn of the kettle the bail clattered, upon which james and his master could see a mohawk in every stump in motion, and turned tail to and he was the best man who could run the fastest. this alarmed all the indians in the village; they, though about thirty or forty in number, packed off bag and baggage, some up the river and others down, and did not return under fifteen days, and the heat of the weather being finally over our hard service abated for this season. i never heard that the indians understood the occasion of the fright, but james and i had many a private laugh about it." [ ] the old medoctec fort was on the west bank of the river st. john about eight miles below the town of woodstock. the spring is readily identified; an apparently inexhaustible supply of pure cold water flows from it even in the driest season. until quite recently the word "mohawk," suddenly uttered, was sufficient to startle a new brunswick indian. the late edward jack upon asking an indian child, "what is a mohawk?" received this reply, "a mohawk is a bad indian who kills people and eats them." parkman describes the mohawks as the fiercest, the boldest, yet most politic savages to whom the american forests ever gave birth and nurture. as soon as a canoe could float they were on the war path, and with the cry of the returning wild fowl mingled the yell of these human tigers. they burned, hacked and devoured, exterminating whole villages at once. a mohawk war party once captured an algonquin hunting party in which were three squaws who had each a child of a few weeks or months old. at the first halt the captors took the infants, tied them to wooden spits, roasted them alive before a fire and feasted on them before the eyes of the agonized mothers, whose shrieks, supplications and frantic efforts to break the cords that bound them, were met with mockery and laughter. "they are not men, they are wolves!" sobbed one of the wretched women, as she told what had befallen her to the jesuit missionary. fearful as the maliseets were of the mohawks they were in turn exceedingly cruel to their own captives and, strange as it may appear, the women were even more cruel than the men. in the course of the border wars english captives were exposed to the most revolting and barbarous outrages, some were even burned alive by our st. john river indians. but while cruel to their enemies, and even at times cruel to their wives, the indians were by no means without their redeeming features. they were a modest and virtuous race, and it is quite remarkable that with all their bloodthirstiness in the new england wars there is no instance on record of the slightest rudeness to the person of any female captive. this fact should be remembered to their credit by those who most abhor their bloodthirstiness and cruelty. nor were the savages without a certain sense of justice. this we learn from the following incident in the experience of the english captive john gyles. "while at the indian village (medoctec) i had been cutting wood and was binding it up with an indian rope in order to carry it to the wigwam when a stout ill-natured young fellow about years of age threw me backward, sat on my breast and pulling out his knife said that he would kill me, for he had never yet killed an english person. i told him that he might go to war and that would be more manly than to kill a poor captive who was doing their drudgery for them. notwithstanding all i could say he began to cut and stab me on my breast. i seized him by the hair and tumbled him from off me on his back and followed him with my fist and knee so that he presently said he had enough; but when i saw the blood run and felt the smart i at him again and bid him get up and not lie there like a dog--told him of his former abuses offered to me and other poor captives, and that if ever he offered the like to me again i would pay him double. i sent him before me, took up my burden of wood and came to the indians and told them the whole truth and they commended me, and i don't remember that ever he offered me the least abuse afterward, though he was big enough to have dispatched two of me." the unfortunate conduct of some of the new england governors together with other circumstances that need not here be mentioned, led the maliseets to be hostile to the english. toward the french, however, they were from the very first disposed to be friendly, and when de monts, champlain and poutrincourt arrived at the mouth of our noble river on the memorable th day of june, , they found awaiting them the representatives of an aboriginal race of unknown antiquity, and of interesting language, traditions and customs, who welcomed them with outward manifestations of delight, and formed with them an alliance that remained unbroken throughout the prolonged struggle between the rival powers for supremacy in acadia. [illustration: indian encampment and chief] chapter ii. the coming of the white man. there are yet to be found in new brunswick forest clad regions, remote from the haunts of men, that serve to illustrate the general features of the country when it was discovered by european adventurers years ago. who these first adventurers were we cannot with certainty tell. they were not ambitious of distinction, they were not even animated by religious zeal, for in acadia, as elsewhere, the trader was the forerunner of the priest. the basque, breton, and norman, fishermen are believed to have made their voyages as early as the year , just years before champlain entered the mouth of the st. john river. but these early navigators were too intent upon their own immediate gain to think of much beside; they gave to the world no intelligent account of the coasts they visited, they wave not accurate observers, and in their tales of adventure fact and fiction were blended in equal proportion. nevertheless, by the enterprise and resolution of these hardy mariners the shores of north-eastern america were fairly well known long before acadia contained a single white inhabitant. adventurers of portugal, spain and italy vied with those of france and britain in the quest of treasure beyond the sea. they scanned our shores with curious eyes and pushed their way into every bay and harbor. and thus, slowly but surely, the land that had lain hidden in the mists of antiquity began to disclose its outlines as the keen searchlight of discovery was turned upon it from a dozen different sources. while the first recorded exploration of the southern shores of new brunswick is that of de monts and champlain in , there can be little doubt that european fishers and traders had entered the bay of fundy before the close of the th century and had made the acquaintance of the savages, possibly they had ventured up the st. john river. the indians seem to have greeted the new-comers in a very friendly fashion and were eager to barter their furs for knives and trinkets. the "pale-faces" and their white winged barks were viewed at first with wonder not unmixed with awe, but the keen-eyed savages quickly learned the value of the white man's wares; and readily exchanged the products of their own forests and streams for such articles as they needed. trade with the savages had assumed considerable proportions even before the days of champlain. but while it is probable that the coasts of acadia were visited by europeans some years before champlain entered the bay of fundy, it is certain that the history of events previous to the coming of that intrepid navigator is a blank. the indians gradually become familiar with the vanguard of civilization as represented by the rude fishermen and traders, that is all we know. the honor of the first attempt at colonization in acadia belongs to the sieur de monts, a huguenot noblemen who had rendered essential service to the french king. this nobleman, with the assistance of a company of merchants of rouen and rochelle, collected a band of emigrants, including artisans of all trades, laborers and soldiers, and in the month of april, , set sail for the new world. henry iv of france gave to the sieur de monts jurisdiction over acadia, or new france, a region so vast that the sites of the modern cities of montreal and philadelphia lay within its borders. the acadia of de monts would today include the maritime provinces, the greater part of quebec and half of new england. the colonists embarked in two small vessels, the one of , the other of tons burden; a month later they reached the southern coast of nova scotia. they proceeded to explore the coast and entered the bay of fundy, to which the sieur de monts gave the name of la baye francaise. champlain has left us a graphic account of the voyage of exploration around the shores of the bay. in this, however, we need not follow him. suffice it to say that on the th day of june there crept cautiously into the harbor of st. john a little french ship; she was a paltry craft, smaller than many of our coasting schooners, but she carried the germ of an empire for de monts, champlain and poutrincourt, the founders of new france, were on her deck. there is in champlain's published "voyages" an excellent plan of st. john harbor which, he says, lay "at the mouth of the largest and deepest river we had yet seen which we named the river saint john, because it was on this saint's day that we arrived there." champlain did not ascend the river far but ralleau, the secretary of the sieur de monts, went there sometime afterwards to see secoudon (or chkoudun), the chief of the river, who reported that it was beautiful, large and extensive with many meadows and fine trees such as oaks, beeches, walnut trees and also wild grape vines. in champlain's plan of st. john harbor a cabin is placed on navy island, which he describes as a "cabin where the savages fortify themselves." this was no doubt the site of a very ancient encampment. lescarbot, the historian, who accompanied de monts, says they visited the cabin of chkoudun, with whom they bartered for furs. according to his description: "the town of ouigoudy, the residence of the said chkoudun, was a great enclosure upon a rising ground, enclosed with high and small tress, tied one against another; and within the enclosure were several cabins great and small, one of which was as large as a market hall, wherein many households resided." in the large cabin which served as a council chamber, they saw some or savages all nearly naked. they were having a feast, which they called "tabagie." the chief chkoudun made his warriors pass in review before his guests. lescarbot describes the indian sagamore as a man of great influence who loved the french and admired their civilization. he even attended their religious services on sundays and listened attentively to the admonitions of their spiritual guides, although he did not understand a word. "moreover," adds lescarbot, "he wore the sign of the cross upon his bosom, which he also had his servants wear; and he had in imitation of us a great cross erected in the public place called oigoudi at the port of the river saint john." this sagamore accompanied poutrincourt on his tour of exploration to the westward and offered single handed to oppose a hostile band who attacked the french. according to champlain's plan of st. john harbor, the channel on the west, or carleton, side of navy island was much narrower in his day than it is now. the name ouygoudy (or wigoudi), applied by the indians to chkoudun's village on navy island, is nearly identical with the modern word "we-go-dic," used by the maliseets to designate any indian village or encampment. they have always called the st. john river "woolastook," but their name for the place on which the city of st. john is built is "men-ah-quesk," which is readily identified with "menagoueche," the name generally applied to st. john harbor by villebon and other french commanders in acadia. [illustration: champlain's plan of st. john harbor. the figures indicate fathoms of water. a. islands above the falls. b. mountains two leagues from the river. d. shoals or flats. e. cabin where the savages fortify themselves. f. a pebbly point where there is a cross (sand point). g. partridge island. h. a., small river coming from a little pond (mill pond and its outlet). i. arm of the sea, dry at low tide (courtenay bay and the marsh creek). p. way by which the savages carry their canoes in passing the falls.] navy island assumes a historic interest in our eyes as the first inhabited spot, so far as we know, within the confines of the city of st. john. in champlain's plans the principal channel is correctly given as on the east side of partridge island. sand point is shown, and the cross at its extremity was probably erected by the explorers in honor of their discovery. groups of savages are seen on either side of the harbor, and a moose is feeding near the present haymarket square. a little ship rests on the flats, the site of the new dry dock. de monts and champlain passed their first winter in america on an island in the st. croix river. their experience was disastrous in the extreme. nearly half of their party died of "mal de la terre," or scurvy, and others were at the point of death. pierre biard, the jesuit missionary, attributed the fatality of the disease to the mode of life of the people, of whom only eleven remained well. "these were a jolly company of hunters who preferred rabbit hunting to the air of the fireside, skating on the ponds to turning over lazily in bed, making snowballs to bring down the game to sitting around the fire talking about paris and its good cooks." in consequence of their unfortunate experience during the first winter the little colony removed to port royal. the advent of european explorers and traders materially affected the manner of life of the indians. hitherto they had hunted the wild animals merely for subsistence, but now the demand of the traders for furs and peltry stimulated enormously the pursuit of game. the keen-eyed savages saw the advantages of the white man's implements and utensils. steel knives, axes, vessels of metal, guns, powder and shot, blankets, ornaments and trinkets excited his cupidity. alas, too, love of the white man's "fire water" soon became a ruling passion and the poor indian too often received a very indifferent compensation for his toil and exposure. in the summer time, when the annual ships arrived from france, the indians gathered in large numbers at the various trading posts. they came from far and near, and for several weeks indulged in feasting and revelry. pierre biard comments severely on their folly. he says: "they never stop gorging themselves excessively during several weeks. they get drunk not only on wine, but on brandy, so that it is no wonder they are obliged to endure some gripes of the stomach during the following autumn." the maliseets frequently came to the mouth of the st. john to trade with the french; sometimes they even resorted to port royal, for these daring savages did not fear to cross the bay of fundy in their frail barks. the chief of the savages of the river st. john, chkoudun, proved a valuable ally of the french owing to his extensive knowledge of the country and of the tribes that inhabited it. champlain crossed over to st. john from port royal in the autumn of to get him to point out the location of a certain copper mine on the shores of the bay of fundy, supposed to be of fabulous richness. chkoudun readily agreed to accompany his visitor and they proceeded to the mine, which was on the shores of the basin of minas. the master miner, a native of sclavonia, whom de monts had brought to acadia to search for precious metals, deemed the outlook not unpromising, but champlain was disappointed, and says: "the truth is that if the water did not cover the mines twice a day, and if they did not lie in such hard rocks, something might be expected from them." the commercial spirit that has ever predominated in our good city of st. john evidently goes back to the days of its discovery. chkoudun lived at "menagoueche" in his fortified village on navy island when champlain invited him to go with the sieur de poutrincourt and himself as guide on a tour of exploration along the coast of new england. they set out in the month of september, , and the chief took with him in a shallop certain goods he had obtained from the fur traders to sell to his neighbors the armouchiquois, with whom he proposed to make an alliance. the savages of new england were beginning to covet the axes and other implements of civilization that their neighbors to the eastward had obtained from the fishermen and traders who visited their shores. the indians were now for a season to part with their friends and allies. in de monts decided to abandon his attempt to establish a colony and champlain and his associates were recalled to france. acadia was once more without a single european inhabitant. three years later poutrincourt, to the great joy of the savages, returned to port royal, and most of the rights and privileges formerly held by de monts were transferred to him. the summer of was notable for the arrival of the jesuit missionaries, pierre biard and enemond masse. it seems that the french traders did not quietly acquiesce in poutrincourt's monopoly of trade, and the masters of certain ships of st. malo and rochelle boasted to the indians that they would devour poutrincourt as the fabled gougou would a poor savage. this was an insult our nobleman was not disposed to endure, so accompanied by the missionary biard he crossed over to st. john and proceeded along the coast as far as passamaquoddy. the offenders were sternly admonished and compelled to acknowledge his authority. later it was discovered that they had carried away nearly all that was valuable of the fur trade for that season. biard at this time succeeded in reconciling poutrincourt and the younger pontgrave who for some misdemeanor had been banished from port royal and had spent the previous winter among the indians of the st. john river, living just as they did. biard speaks of him as "a young man of great physical and mental strength, excelled by none of the savages in the chase, in alertness and endurance and in his ability to speak their language." early in the month of october a little island in long reach called emenenic--now known as caton's island--was the scene of an exciting incident of which biard has left us a picturesque description. it seems that poutrincourt's son, biencourt, wished to exact submission on the part of a number of traders of st. malo, who had established a trading post on the island. accordingly accompanied by a party of soldiers and the jesuit missionary he proceeded to the scene of operations. father biard did not admire, as do our modern travellers, the "reversing falls" at the mouth of our noble river. "the entrance to this river," he says, "is very narrow and very dangerous * * and if you do not pass over it at the proper moment and when the water is smoothly heaped up, of a hundred thousand barques not an atom would escape, but men and goods would all perish." the party settled on the island of emenenic included their captain, merveille, and young pontgrave. biard in his narrative terms them "the malouins"--or people of st. malo. "we were still," he says, "one league and a half from the island when the twilight ended and night came on. the stars had already begun to appear when suddenly towards the northward a part of the heavens became blood red; and this light spreading little by little in vivid streaks and flashes, moved directly over the settlement of the malouins and there stopped. the red glow was so brilliant that the whole river was tinged and made luminous by it. this apparition lasted about five minutes and as soon as it disappeared another came of the same form, direction and appearance. "our savages, when they saw this wonder, cried out in their language, 'gara, gara, maredo'--we shall have war, there will be blood. "we arrived opposite the settlement when the night had already closed in, and there was nothing we could do except to fire a salute from the falconet, which they answered with one from the swivel gun. "when morning came and the usual prayers ware said, two malouins presented themselves upon the bank and signified to us that we could disembark without being molested, which we did. it was learned that their captains were not there but had gone away up the river three days before, and no one knew when they would return. meanwhile father biard went away to prepare his altar and celebrate holy mass. after mass sieur de biencourt placed a guard at the door of the habitation and sentinels all around it. the malouins were very much astonished at this way of doing things. the more timid considered themselves as lost; the more courageous stormed and fumed and defied them. "when night came on captain merveille returned to his lodgings, knowing nothing of his guests. the sentinel hearing him approach uttered his "qui voila"--who goes there? the malouin, thinking it was one of his own people, answered mockingly, 'who goes there thyself?' and continued upon his way. the sentinel fired his musket at him in earnest and it was a great wonder (merveille) that merveille was not killed. but he was very much astonished and still more so when he saw some soldiers upon him with naked swords who seized him and took him into the house; you may imagine how soldiers and sailors act at such times, with their cries, their theats and their gesticulations. "merveille had his hands bound behind his back so tightly that he could not rest and he began to complain very pitifully. father biard begged sieur de biencourt to have the sufferer untied, alleging that if they had any fears about the said merveille they might enclose him in one of the carthusian beds, and that he would himself stay at the door to prevent his going out. sieur de biencourt granted this request." "now i could not describe to you," biard goes on to say, "what a night this was; for it passed in continual alarms, gun shots and rash acts on the part of some of the men; so that it was feared with good reason that the prognostications seen in the heavens the night before would have their bloody fulfilment upon earth. i do not know that there was one who closed his eyes during the night. for me, i made many fine promises to our lord never to forget his goodness if he were pleased to avert bloodshed. this he granted in his infinite mercy. * * certainly captain merveille and his people showed unusual piety for notwithstanding this so annoying encounter, two days afterwards they confessed and took communion in a very exemplary manner, and at our departure they all begged me very earnestly, and particularly young du pont, to come and stay with them as long as i liked. i promised to do so and am only waiting the opportunity, for in truth i love these honest people with all my heart." the missionaries, biard and masse, were anxious to cultivate the friendship of young du pont, knowing that he could greatly assist them in learning the indian language, a knowledge of which was essential to the work they hoped to accomplish amidst the forests of acadia. inspired by their motto "ad majoram dei gloriam," they shrank from no toil or privation. father masse passed the winter of - with louis membertou and his family at the river st. john with only a french boy as his companion, his object being to increase his knowledge of the indian language. he suffered many hardships, was at one time seriously ill, but eventually returned in safety to port royal. he describes the winter's experience with the savages as "a life without order and without daily fare, without bread, without salt, often without anything; always moving on and changing, * * for roof a wretched cabin, for couch the earth, for rest and quiet odious cries and songs, for medicine hunger and hard work." the missionaries found immense difficulty in acquiring the language of the natives. the task was not so difficult so long as they sought to learn the names of objects that might be touched or seen, but when it came to such abstract words as virtue, vice, reason, justice, or to such terms as to believe, to doubt or to hope, "for these," said biard, "we had to labor and sweat; in these were the pains of travail." they were compelled to make a thousand gesticulations and signs that greatly amused their savage instructors who sometimes palmed off on them words that were ridiculous and even obscene, so that the jesuits labored with indifferent success in the preparation of their catechism. their work was still in the experimental stage when the destruction of port royal by argal in , and the capture and removal of the missionaries brought everything to a stand and put an end to all attempts at colonization in acadia for some years. the indians, however, were not forgotten; the jesuits had failed, but in a party of recollet missionaries from aquitaine began a mission on the st. john. these humble missionary laborers had no historian to record their toils and privations, and unlike the jesuits they did not become their own annalists. we know, however, that one of their number, father barnardin, while returning from miscou to the river st. john, in the year , died of hunger and fatigue in the midst of the woods, a martyr to his charity and zeal. five years afterwards, the recollets were compelled to abandon their mission which, however, was reoccupied by them before many years had passed. meanwhile the fur traders established a post on the river st. john as a convenient centre for trade with the indians. the french, with young biencourt at their head, still kept a feeble hold on acadia. biencourt had as his lieutenant, charles de la tour, who had come to the country many years before when a mere boy of years of age. biencourt and la tour--such was their poverty--were compelled to live after the indian fashion, roaming through the woods from place to place. in this rude life la tour acquired an extensive knowledge of the country and its resources, and in all probability became familiar with the st. john river region. biencourt at his death left him all his property in acadia. the destruction of port royal by argal was the first incident in the struggle between england and france for sovereignty in acadia, a struggle that for a century and a half was to remain undecided. the next attempt at colonization was made on the part of the british, but it proved as futile as that of de monts. james i. of england, in the year , gave to sir william alexander, under the name of nova scotia, the peninsula which is now so called, together with a vast adjacent wilderness as a fief of the scottish crown. for several years this favored nobleman seems to have contented himself with sending annually a ship to explore the shores of his domain and to trade with the indians. later he devised a scheme to facilitate the settlement of a colony by the creation of an order of baronets of nova scotia, each of whom was to receive an estate six miles in length and three in breadth in consideration of his assistance in the colonization of the country. in the course of years more than baronets were created, of whom had estates within the limits of our own province. to that part of nova scotia north of the bay of fundy, now called new brunswick, sir william gave the name of the province of alexandria. the st. john river he called the clyde and the st. croix, which divided new england and new scotland, he not inaptly called the tweed. when war broke out between england and france in , young charles la tour found his position in acadia very insecure. however, he was naturally resourceful and by his diplomacy and courage continued for many years to play a prominent part in the history of affairs. he sought and obtained from louis xiii. of france a commission as the king's lieutenant-general and at the same time obtained from sir william alexander the title of a baronet of nova scotia. he procured from his royal master a grant of land on the river st. john and obtained leave from sir william alexander to occupy it. by the treaty of st. germain, in , acadia was ceded to france. immediately after the peace de razilly came to the country at the head of a little colony of settlers, many of them farmers, whose descendants are to be found among the acadians of today. with de razilly came d'aulnay charnisay, who was destined to become la tour's worst enemy. de razilly died in , leaving his authority to charnisay, his relative and second in command. charnisay made his headquarters at port royal and nobody disputed his authority except la tour, who claimed to be independent of him by virtue of his commission from the crown and his grant from the company of new france. the dissensions between la tour and charnisay at length culminated in war and the strife was long and bitter. chapter iii. the rival feudal chiefs. charles de menou, seigneur d'aulnay charnisay, came of a distinguished family of touraine. he married jeanne motin, a daughter of the seigneur de courcelles. she came to acadia with him in . they resided at port royal where charnisay in his log mansion reigned like a feudal lord. charles st. etienne de la tour was probably of less conspicuous lineage than his rival, although in legal documents he is called "a gentleman of distinguished birth." he married frances marie jacquelins who, according to the questionable testimony of his enemies, was the daughter of a barber of mans. she was a huguenot and whatever may have been her origin her qualities of mind and heart have deservedly won for her the title of "the heroine of acadia." never had man more faithful ally than marie jacquelins proved to charles la tour. as early as the year la tour had be concerned in a project to erect a strong fort at the mouth of the st. john river in order to ward off the incursions of hostile adventurers and secure control of the far trade of the vast wilderness region extending from the mouth of the river nearly to the st. lawrence. it was not, however, until the th of january, , that the company of new france granted him his tract of land at st. john, extending five leagues up the river and including within its bounds "the fort and habitation of la tour." the french government endeavored to establish a good understanding between la tour and charnisay. a royal letter was addressed to the latter in which he was cautioned against interference with la tour's settlement at the river st. john. la tour received a like caution as regards charnisay's settlement at port royal. charnisay was commissioned the king's lieutenant-general from chignecto to penobscot and la tour was given like jurisdiction over the nova scotian peninsula. thus la tour's settlement and fort at st. john lay within the limits of charnisay's government and charnisay's settlements at la have and port royal lay within the government of la tour, an arrangement not calculated to promote harmony on the part of the rivals. it is rather difficult to get at all the facts of the quarrel that now rapidly developed between la tour and charnisay. the statements of their respective friends are very diverse, sometimes contradictory, and even the official records of the court of france are conflicting. nicolas denys, the historian, had reason to dislike charnisay, and perhaps some of his statements concerning charnisay's barbarity should be received with caution. on the other hand the friends of charnisay have cast aspersions an the character of lady la tour that seem entirely unwarranted.[ ] the fact remains that acadia, large as it was, not large enough for two such ambitious men as charles la tour and d'aulnay charnisay. [ ] see "feudal chiefs of acadia," by parkman in atlantic monthly of january and february, . the exact site of la tour's fort at the mouth of the river st. john has been the subject of controversy, dr. w. f. ganong, a most conscientious and painstaking student of our early history, has argued strongly in favor of its location at portland point (the green mound near rankine's wharf at the foot of portland street); the late joseph w. lawrence and dr. w. p. dole have advocated the claims of fort dufferin, but the site usually accepted is that known as "old fort," on the west side of the harbor opposite navy island. it seems probable that la tour resided at one time at "old fort," in carleton, and his son-in-law the sieur de martignon lived there afterwards, but whether this was the site of the first fort built by la tour and so bravely defended by his wife is at least a debatable question. in the absence of positive information as to the exact location of la tour's first fort, it is perhaps unadvisable to disturb popular opinion until a thorough search of the records in france shall have been made in order if possible to settle the question. upon his arrival at st. john, la tour speedily surrounded himself with soldiers and retainers and established an extensive traffic with the indians, who came from their hunting grounds when the ships arrived laden with goods for the indian trade. doctor hannay gives a graphic picture of la tour's situation:-- "a rude abundance reigned at the board where gathered the defenders of fort la tour. the wilderness was then a rich preserve of game, where the moose, caribou and red deer roamed in savage freedom. wild fowl of all kinds abounded along the marsh, and interval lands of the st. john, and the river itself--undisturbed by steamboats and unpolluted by saw mills--swarmed with fish. and so those soldier-traders lived on the spoils of forest, ocean and river, a life of careless freedom, undisturbed by the politics of the world and little crossed by its cares. within the fort, lady la tour led a lonely life, with no companions but her domestics and her children, for her lord was often away ranging the woods, cruising on the coast, or perhaps on a voyage to france. she was a devout huguenot, but the difference of religion between husband and wife seems never to have marred the harmony of their relations." in the struggle between the rival feudal chiefs, charnisay had the advantage of having more powerful friends at court, chief among them the famous cardinal richelieu. representations made concerning the conduct of la tour led the french monarch in to order him to return to france to answer the charges against him. in the event of his refusal, charnisay was directed to seize his person and property. the commission of la tour was also revoked. the contest now entered upon an acute stage. la tour claimed that the royal order had been obtained through misrepresentation, and absolutely refused to submit to charnisay. the latter, not daring to attack la tour in his stronghold, repaired to france where he succeeded in fitting out five vessels and in obtaining the services of soldiers to compel his rival to submission. he also procured another and more definite order from the king, directing him to seize la tour's fort and person and to send him to france as a rebel and a traitor. meanwhile la tour was not idle. his friends at rochelle sent out to him a large armed vessel, the clement, loaded with ammunition and supplies and having on board armed men. when the vessel neared st. john, it was discovered that charnisay had established a blockade at the mouth of the harbor and that entrance was impracticable. in this emergency la tour resolved to seek aid from the people of new england, whose trade and friendship he had begun to cultivate. boston was then but a straggling village, in its th year, with houses principally of boards or logs gathered around its plain little meeting house. eluding the vigilance of the blockading squadron, la tour and his wife succeeded in getting safely on board the clement, and at once repaired to boston, where their arrival created some consternation, for boston happened to be at that time in a particularly defenceless position. governor winthrop remarked: "if la tour had been ill-minded towards us, he had such an opportunity as we hope neither he nor any other shall ever have the like again." however, la tour had come with no ill intent, and after some negotiations, which he conducted with much skill and discretion, he was allowed to hire from edward gibbons and thomas hawkins, four vessels with men and guns. he also obtained the assistance of soldiers. with these he hurried back to the relief of his fort. charnisay was compelled to raise the blockade and retire to his defences at port royal, where he was defeated with loss by the united forces of la tour and his allies. while at st. john, the bostonians captured a pinnace belonging to charnisay, laden with moose and beaver skins; their own pinnace went up the river to grand lake and loaded with coal. this little incident shows that the coal mines of queens county were known and worked more than years ago. as the struggle with la tour proceeded charnisay became more and more determined to effect the destruction of his rival. la tour's resources were nearly exhausted and his situation had became exceedingly critical. he dared not leave his fort and yet he could not hold out much longer unaided. his brave wife was equal to the emergency; she determined herself to go to france for assistance. this was indeed an arduous undertaking for a woman, but her spirit rose to the occasion, and neither the perils of the deep nor the difficulties that were to confront her at the court of france served to daunt her resolute soul. fearlessly she set out upon the long and dangerous voyage and in the course of more than a year's absence endured disappointments and trials that would have crushed one less resolute and stout hearted. her efforts in her native country were foiled by her adversaries, she was even threatened with death if she should venture to leave france, but setting the royal command at defiance she went to england and there chartered a ship to carry stores and munitions of war to st. john. the master of the ship, instead of proceeding directly to his destination, went up the river st. lawrence to trade with the indians. when, after a six months' voyage, they at length entered the bay of fundy some of charnisay's vessels were encountered, and the english captain to avoid the seizure and confiscation of his ship was obliged to conceal madame la tour and her people and proceed to boston. here his own tribulations began for madame la tour brought an action against him for violation of his contract and after a four days' trial the jury awarded her two thousand pounds damages. with the proceeds of this suit she chartered three english ships in boston and proceeded to st. john with all the stores and munitions of war that she had collected. the garrison at fort la tour hailed her arrival with acclamations of delight for they had begun to despair of her return. charnisay's attempt to reduce la tour to subjection was foiled for the time being, but his opportunity came a little later. in february, , he learned of la tour's absence and that his garrison numbered only fifty men. he determined at once to attack the fort. his first attempt was an abject failure. the lady la tour inspired her little garrison with her own dauntless spirit, and so resolute was the defence and so fierce the cannon fire from the bastions that charnisay's ship was shattered and disabled and he was obliged to warp her off under the shelter of a bluff to save her from sinking. in this attack twenty of his men were killed and thirteen wounded. two months later he made another attempt with a stronger force and landed two cannon to batter the fort on the land side. on the th of april, having brought his largest ship to within pistol shot of the water rampart, he summoned the garrison to surrender. he was answered by a volley of cannon shot and shouts of defiance. the story of the taking of fort la tour, as told by nicholas denys, is well known. for three days madame la tour bravely repelled the besiegers and obliged them to retire beyond the reach of her guns. on the fourth day whilst she, hoping for some respite, was making her soldiers rest a miserable swiss sentinel betrayed the garrison, and when the alarm was given the enemy were already scaling the walls. lady la tour even in so desperate an emergency as this succeeded in rallying the defenders, who bravely resisted the attack, though greatly outnumbered by their assailants. she only surrendered at the last extremity and under condition that the lives of all should be spared. this condition charnisay is said to have shamefully violated; all the garrison were hanged, with the exception of one who was spared on condition of acting the part of executioner, and the lady commander was compelled to stand at the scaffold with a rope around her neck as though she were the vilest criminal. it is but fair to state that our knowledge of the gross indignity to which lady la tour was subjected is derived from denys' narrative, and its authenticity has been questioned by parkman. nevertheless accounts of the transaction that have come to us from sources friendly to charnisay admit that he hanged the greater number of his prisoners, "to serve as an example to posterity," and that madame la tour was put into confinement where, as charnisay's reporter somewhat brutally observes, "she fell ill with spite and rage." the lady la tour did not long survive her misfortunes. scarcely three weeks had elapsed after the capture of the fort she had so gallantly defended when she died and was laid to rest near the spot consecrated by her devotion, the scene of so many hopes and fears. there will always be a peculiar charm for us in the story of our acadian heroine. fearless, energetic, resolute undoubtedly she was, yet who shall say that the motives that actuated her were other than pure and womanly? a heart more loyal and true never beat in a human breast. she gave her life to protect her husband, her children and the humbler dependents that followed their fortunes from the hands of a bitter and unscrupulous enemy. the capture of his stronghold and the death of his faithful wife involved la tour in what appeared to be at the time irreparable ruin. he found himself once more, as in his younger days, an exile and a wanderer. the booty taken by charnisay was valued at £ , sterling and as it had been accumulated in traffic with the indians we may form some idea of the value of the trade of the st. john river at this time. when the capture of la tour's fort was known at the court of versailles the young king was well pleased. he confirmed charnisay's authority in acadia and even extended it--on paper--from the st. lawrence to virginia. he could build forts, command by land and sea, appoint officers of government and justice, keep such lands as he fancied and grant the remainder to his vassals. he had also a monopoly of the fur trade and with fort la tour, the best trading post in acadia, in his possession, the prospect for the future was very bright. charnisay possessed the instincts of a colonizer and had already brought a number of settlers to acadia. everything at this juncture seemed to point to a growing trade and a thriving colony; but once again the hand of destiny appears. in the very zenith of his fortune and in the prime of manhood charnisay was drowned on the th day of may, , in the annapolis river near port royal. with charnisay's disappearance la tour reappears upon the scene. his former defiant attitude is forgotten, he is recognized as the most capable man of affairs in acadia and in september, , we find him again in possession of his old stronghold at st. john. the king now gave him a fresh commission as lieutenant-general in acadia with ample territorial rights. disputes soon afterwards arose concerning the claims of the widow of d'aulnay charnisay; these disputes were set at rest by the marriage of the parties interested. the marriage contract, a lengthy document, was signed at port royal the th day of february, , and its closing paragraph shows that there was little sentiment involved: "the said seigneur de la tour and the said dame d'aulnay his future spouse, to attain the ends and principal design of their intended marriage, which is the peace and tranquillity of the country and concord and union between the two families, wish and desire as much as lies with them that in the future their children should contract a new alliance of marriage together." there is no evidence to show that la tour's second marriage proved unhappy, though it is a very unromantic ending to an otherwise very romantic story. his second wife had also been the second wife of charnisay who was a widower when he married her; her maiden name was jeanne motin. descendants of la tour by his second marriage are to be found in the families of the d'entremonts, girouards, porliers and landrys of new brunswick and nova scotia. la tour and his new wife were quietly living at st. john the year after their marriage when four english ships of war suddenly appeared before the fort and demanded its surrender. these ships had in the first instance been placed at the disposal of the people of massachusetts by oliver cromwell for the purpose of an expedition against the dutch colony of manhattan (now new york); but on the eve of their departure news arrived that peace had been made with holland. it was then decided that the expedition should proceed under major robert sedgewick's command to capture the french strongholds in acadia. this was a bold measure for england and france were then ostensibly at peace. la tour at once saw that resistance was useless and surrendered his fort and the flag of britain was hoisted over the ramparts. however, la tour's address did not desert him; he went to england and laid before cromwell his claim as a grantee under the charter of sir william alexander. he proved as skilful a diplomatist as ever and obtained, cojointly with thomas temple and william crowne, a grant which practically included the whole of acadia. la tour, now more than years of age, was sagacious enough to see that disputes were sure again to arise between england and france with regard to acadia, and not wishing to be the football of fortune, sold his rights to sir thomas temple his co-partner, and retired to private life. he died in at the age of years and his ashes rest within the confines of his beloved acadia. chapter iv. french commanders of acadia. after the capture of fort la tour by sedgewick's massachusetts invaders in , acadia remained nominally in possession of the english for twelve years. half a century had elapsed since the attempt of de monts to establish his colony, yet little progress had been made in the settlement of the country and the valley of the st. john remained an almost unbroken wilderness. the first english trading post on the river, of which we have any knowledge was that established in by sir thomas temple at the mouth of the jemseg. as related in the last chapter, la tour, temple and crowne received from oliver cromwell a grant that included nearly the whole of acadia, and la tour soon after sold his right to temple, his co-partner. the latter decided to establish a fortified post at the jemseg as more convenient for the indian trade and less exposed to marauders than the fort at the mouth of the river. there can be little doubt that temple would soon have enjoyed a flourishing trade, but unfortunately for his prospects, acadia was restored to france by the treaty of breda, in . he attempted to hold possession of his lands, claiming that they did not fall within the boundaries of acadia, but at the expiration of three years, during which there was considerable correspondence with the home authorities, he received the peremptory orders of charles ii. to surrender the fort to the sieur de soulanges. in the formal deed of surrender the fort is termed "fort gemisick, leagues up the river st. john." it was a palisaded enclosure, with stakes feet high connected by cross pieces fastened with nails to the stakes and firmly braced on the inside with pickets nine feet high leaned against the stakes. the gate of the fort was of three thicknesses of new plank. it was evidently a frail defence, but sufficient for the indian trade. the armament consisted of five iron guns, varying in weight from pounds to pounds, mounted on wooden platforms. within the palisade was a house paces by , two chimneys, a forge, two sheds and a store house. the fort stood on a small mound near the top of a hill, less than yards from the bank of the jemseg river. it commanded an extensive view both up and down the river st. john. a fragment of the rampart is still visible, and numerous relics have from time to time been dug up at the site or in the vicinity. the fort site is now owned by mr. geo. f. nevars. after the treaty of breda the chevalier grand-fontaine was appointed to command in acadia, with pierre de joibert, seigneur de soulanges et marson, as his lieutenant. one of the first acts of grand-fontaine was to have a census taken, from which we learn that there were then only a little more than people in acadia, very few of whom were to be found north of the bay of fundy. grand-fontaine was recalled to france in , and chambly, who had been an officer in the famous carignan salieres regiment, succeeded him as commandant. the control of affairs in new france was now transferred to quebec, where a governor-general and intendant, or lieutenant-governor, resided. about this time large tracts of land were granted as "seigniories" by count frontenac and his successors. the seignior was usually a person of some consideration by birth and education. he received a free grant of lands from the crown on certain conditions; one of these was that whenever the seigniory changed hands the act of "faith and homage" was to be tendered at the castle of st. louis in quebec. the tendering of faith and homage was quite an elaborate ceremony, in which the owner of the land, divesting himself of arms and spurs, with bared head, on bended knee, repeated before the governor, as representative of the sovereign, his acknowledgement of faith and homage to the crown. provision was made in all seignioral grants for the reservation of oaks for the royal navy, of lands required for fortifications or highways, and of all mines and minerals; the seignior was also required to reside on his land or to place a certain number of tenants thereon and to clear and improve a certain portion within a stated time. from the year to the close of the century as many as seigniories were granted on the st. john river, besides others in various parts of new brunswick. the first in order of time was that to martin d'arpentigny sieur de martignon. it included a large tract at the mouth of the river st. john, on the west side of the harbor, extending six leagues up the river from partridge island (isle de la perdrix) and six leagues in depth inland. this seigniory would now include carleton and the parishes of lancaster, musquash and westfield. the owner of this valuable property is described as "an old inhabitant of acadia." he married jeanne de la tour, only daughter of charles la tour by his first wife: she was born in acadia in . it is stated in his grant that he intended to bring over people from france to settle his seigniory, also that he was a proprietor of lands on the river st. john "from the river de maquo to the mines of the said country of acadia."[ ] [ ] dr. ganong is probably correct in identifying the "river de maquo" with maquapit and the "mines" with the coal mines at newcastle in queens county. in this case the sieur de martignon owned the lands on the north side of grand lake including the site of the old indian village at indian point where so any relics have been discovered. it is quite possible that the sieur de martignon and his wife, jeanne de la tour, may have lived there for a time. after la tour's death his son-in-law, the sieur de mantignon, seems to have taken up his abode at the old fort on the west side of the harbor, which in franquet's map of is called "fort de martinnon." in the little world of acadia, pierre de joibert, sieur de soulanges, played a leading part during his eight years residence. he was a native of the little town of soulanges in the old french province of champagne. he had served as lieutenant in grand-fontaine's company of infantry and came with that officer to acadia. it is said that "he rendered good and praiseworthy service to the king both in old and new france." as a recognition of those services he was granted, october , , a seigniory at the mouth of the st. john on the east side of the river a league in depth and extending four leagues up the river; this seigniory seems to have included the present city of st. john--carleton excepted. the sieur de soulanges, however, did not reside there but at the jemseg. this is evident from the fact that the document that conveyed to him his st. john seigniory gave him in addition "the house of fort gemesik," which the great states "he shall enjoy for such time only as he shall hold his commission of commander on the said river in order to give him a place of residence that he may act with more liberty and convenience in everything relating to the king's service." the wife of soulanges was marie francoise, daughter of chartier de lotbeniere, attorney-general of quebec. their daughter louise elizabeth was born at "fort gemesik" in . the sieur de soulanges did not long enjoy peaceable possession of his place of residence; disturbance came from an entirely unexpected quarter. a band of dutch marauders under their leader arenson in the summer of pillaged and greatly damaged the fort and seized and carried off its commander, but soon after set him at liberty. as a recompense for this misfortune soulanges received the grant of a large tract of land at the jemseg, two leagues in depth and extending a league on each side of the fort. it is stated in the grant that "he had made various repairs and additions to the fort in order to make it habitable and capable of defence, there having been previously only a small wooden house in ruins surrounded by palisades half fallen to the ground, in fact it would have been better to have rebuilt the whole, for he would yet have to make a large outlay to put it in proper condition on account of the total ruin wrought by the dutch (les hollandois) when they made him their prisoner in the said fort two years ago." the little daughter of soulanges, whose infant slumbers were disturbed by these rude dutch boors, was afterwards the marchioness de vaudreuil, the wife of one governor general of canada and the mother of another. it is evident the authorities at quebec knew little of the value of the lands on the st. john river or they would hardly have granted them with such prodigality. the sieur de soulanges seems to have been highly favored by frontenac for the three seigniories granted to him included an area of more than a hundred square miles. the one at the mouth of the river possessed all those natural advantages that have made st. john the leading commercial city of the maritime provinces. that at the jemseg was for a short time the head quarters of french power in acadia and in its modest way the political capital of the country. the third seigniory--at the very heart of which lay the site of fredericton--remains to be described. in the grant to soulanges it is termed, "the place called nachouac (nashwaak), to be called hereafter soulanges, upon the river st. john leagues from gemesk, two leagues on each side of said river and two leagues deep inland." the grant was made in consideration of the services rendered by soulanges and to encourage him to continue those services; it was made so large because little of it was thought to be capable of cultivation. this seigniory would include at the present day the city of fredericton and its suburbs, the town of marysville, villages of gibson and st. mary's and a large tract of the surrounding country; the owner of such a property today would be indeed a multi-millionaire. upon chambly's appointment as governor of granada he was succeeded as governor of acadia by the sieur de soulanges who did not, however, long enjoy the honors of his new position, for he died about the year and his widow and children soon afterwards removed to quebec. count frontenac's interest in the family continued, and on march , , a grant of a large tract of land on the river st. john was made to marie francoise chartier, widow of the sieur de soulanges. her seigniory included the larger portion of gagetown parish in queens county, the central point being opposite her old residence or, as the grant expresses it, "vis-a-vis la maison de jemsec." the seigniories granted to soulanges and his widow proved of no value to their descendants; either the titles lapsed on account of non-fulfilment of the required conditions, or the lands were forfeited when the country passed into the hands of the english. louise elizabeth joibert, the daughter of soulanges, who was born on the river st. john, was educated at the convent of the ursulines in quebec. at the age of seventeen she married the marquis vaudreuil, a gentleman thirty years her senior. she is described as a very beautiful and clever woman possessed of all the graces which would charm the highest circles; of rare sagacity and exquisite modesty. she was the mother of twelve children. her husband, the marquis de vaudreuil, was for twenty-two years governor general of canada, and her son held the same position when the french possessions passed into the hands of the english; he was consequently the last governor general of new france. la valliere succeeded the sieur de soulanges and was for six years commander of acadia. he cared little for the dignity or honor of his position provided he could use it for his own benefit. he established a small settlement at the river st. john and engaged in fishing and trading. many complaints were preferred against him by rival traders. they alleged that he encouraged the english to fish on the coasts, granting them licenses for the purpose, that he traded with them in spite of the king's prohibition; also that he robbed and defrauded the savages. these charges seem to have been well founded. an indian captain named negascouet says that as he was coming from neguedchecouniedoche, his usual residence, he was met by the sieur de la valliere, who took from him by violence seventy moose skins, sixty martins, four beaver and two otter, without giving him any payment, and this was not the first time la valliere had so acted. in la valliere was replaced by perrot whose conduct was, if possible, even more reprehensible than that of his predecessor. he was such a money making genius that he thought nothing of selling brandy to the indians by the pint and half-pint before strangers and in his own house, a rather undignified occupation certainly for a royal governor of acadia. examples such as these on the part of those in authority naturally found many imitators, indeed there was at this time a general disposition on the part of young men of the better families in new france to become "coureurs de bois," or rangers of the woods, rather than cultivators of the soil. the life of a coureur de bois was wild and full of adventure, involving toil and exposure, but the possible profits were great and the element of danger appeared in the eyes of many an additional fascination. the rulers of new france from time to time enacted stringent laws against these "outlaws of the bush" but they were of little avail. the governor of quebec felt compelled to represent the conduct of the canadian noblesse in unfavorable terms to his royal master. "they do not," he writes, "devote themselves to improving their land, they mix up in trade and send their children to trade for furs in the indian villages and in the depths of the forest in spite of the prohibition of his majesty." the rapid progress of new england caused louis xiv to express dissatisfaction at the slow development of acadia, and he desired a report of the condition of the colony to be transmitted to versailles. monsieur de meulles, the intendant, accordingly visited acadia in where he found the french settlements "in a neglected and desolate state." he caused a census to be taken which showed the total population to be souls, including the garrison at port royal. there were at that time only five or six families on the st. john river. bishop st. vallier made a tour of acadia the same year, visiting all the indians and french inhabitants he could find. the marquis de denonville in a letter to the french minister of november , , announced the safe return of the bishop to quebec after a most fatiguing journey and adds: "he will give you an account of the numerous disorders committed in the woods by the miserable outlaws who for a long while have lived like the savages without doing anything at all towards the tilling of the soil." [illustration: estat present de l'eglise et de la colonie francoise dans la nouvelle france _par m. l'evèque de quebec_ a paris, chez robert pepie, ruë s. jacques, à l'image s. basile, au dessus de la fontaine s. severin. m. dc. lxxxviii.] many interesting incidents of the tour of mgr. st. vallier are related in a work entitled "the present state of the church and of the french colony in new france," printed in paris in . a fac-simile of the title page of the original edition appears opposite. as this rare little volume contains the first published references to the upper st. john region some extracts from its pages will be of interest. the bishop was accompanied by two priests and five canoe men. they left the st. lawrence on the th of may and proceeded by way of the rivers du loup and st. francis to the st. john. "our guides," the bishop says, "in order to take the shortest road, conducted us by a route not usually traveled, in which it was necessary sometimes to proceed by canoe and sometimes on foot and this in a region where winter still reigned; we had sometimes to break the ice in the rivers to make a passage for the canoes and sometimes to leave the canoes and tramp amid snow and water over those places that are called portages (or carrying places) because it is necessary for the men to carry the canoes upon their shoulders. in order the better to mark our route we gave names to all these portages as well as to the lakes and rivers we had to traverse. "the st. francis is rather a torrent than a river; it is formed by several streams which descend from two ranges of mountains by which the river is bordered on the right and left; it is only navigable from the tenth or twelfth of may until about the end of june; it is then so rapid that one could make without difficulty twenty to twenty-five leagues in a day if it were not crossed in three or four places by fallen trees, which in each instance occupy about fifteen feet of space, and if they were cut out, as could be done with very little expense, the passage would be free; one would not suppose that it would cost pistoles to clear the channel of these obstacles which much delay the traveler. "the river st. john is of much greater extent and beauty than that just named, its course is everywhere smooth and the lands along its banks appear good; there are several very fine islands, and numerous tributary rivers abounding in fish enter its channel on both sides. it seemed to us that some fine settlements might be made between medogtok and gemesech, especially at a certain place which we have named sainte marie, where the river enlarges and the waters are divided by a large number of islands that apparently would be very fertile if cultivated. a mission for the savages would be well placed there: the land has not as yet any owner in particular, neither the king nor the governor having made a grant to any person." the place here referred to by st. vallier afterwards became the mission of ekouipahag or aukpaque. a mission for the indians has been maintained in that vicinity, with some interruptions, to the present day. the islands which the bishop mentions are the well known and beautiful islands below the mouth of the keswick stream. there is no mention by st. vallier of the indian village at aukpaque, which was probably of rather later origin: there may have been a camping ground in that locality, however, for the indians had many camping places on the islands and intervals, particularly at the mouths of rivers, to which they resorted at certain seasons. the name ekouipahag or, as our modern indians call it, ek-pa-hawk, signifies "the head of the tide," or beginning of the swift water. the charms of the place have excited the admiration of many a tourist since st. vallier's day. at the time of the acadian expulsion a number of fugitives, who escaped their pursuers, fled for refuge to the st. john river, and took up their abode at this spot where they cultivated the intervals and islands until the arrival of the loyalists in , when they were again obliged to look for situations more remote. the progress of bishop st. vallier coming down the st. john river was expeditious, the water being then at freshet height. at the mouth of the madawaska, which he named st. francois de sales, he met a small band of savages, who pleaded for a missionary. the day following, may th, he came to the grand falls, or as he calls it "le grand sault saint jean-baptiste." his book contains the first published description of this magnificent cataract[ ]. the rapidity of the journey is seen in the fact that the bishop and his party slept the next night at the indian village of medoctec, "the first fort of acadia," eighty miles below the grand falls. here they found a hundred savages, who were greatly pleased when informed that the bishop had come for the purpose of establishing a mission for their benefit. this promise was fulfilled soon after by the sending to them the recollet missionary simon, of whom we shall hear more ere long. it is evident that the french adventurers the bishop encountered in the course of this wilderness journey led a pretty lawless life, for he observed in his narrative: "it is to be wished that the french who have their habitations along this route, were so correct in their habits as to lead the poor savages by their example to embrace christianity, but we must hope that in the course of time the reformation of the one may bring about the conversion of the other." [ ] "nous vimes l'endroit qu'on appelle le grand sault saint jean-baptiste, ou la riviere de saint jean faisant du haut d'un rocher fort eleve une terrible cascade dans un abime, forme un brouillard qui derobe l'eau a la veue, et fait un bruit qui avertit de loin les navigateurs de descendre de leurs canots." medoctec was undoubtedly the principal indian village on the st. john at this time; it was situated on the right bank of the river, eight miles below the town of woodstock. here the maliseets had a palisaded fort and large cabin, similar to that described by lescarbot at the village ouigoudy on navy island, where de monts was welcomed by chkoudun in . the only other fortification constructed by the indians on the st. john river, so far as known, was that at the mouth of the nerepis, at woodman's point, called by villebon, in , "fort des sauvages de nerepisse." it was evidently merely a palisaded enclosure, and on southack's map of that period is marked "wooden fort." hitherto the indians of acadia had lived peaceably with the whites, but the closing years of the seventeenth century were destined to witness a sad transformation. chapter v. king william's war. there lived at quebec in the latter part of the seventeenth century one charles le moyne, seigneur de longueil, who is called by charlevoix the baron de becancourt; he was of norman extraction, but his sons were natives of new france. as was the custom with the french noblesse each son adopted a surname derived from some portion of the ancient family estate. at least five of becancourt's sons were prominent in the affairs of acadia; they are known in history as menneval, portneuf, villebon, d'iberville and des isles. in menneval replaced perrot as governor of acadia, and as the conduct of perrot had given rise to grave dissatisfaction his successor received elaborate instructions concerning his duties. he was to rebuild the defences of acadia, to resist the encroachments of the english, to suppress the lawless trade of the coureurs de bois, to deal kindly and honestly with the savages, taking care to promote their conversion to the christian faith, and to restore to the crown all seigniories and granted lands that had not been occupied or improved. the year that followed menneval's appointment was notable for the outbreak of the most dreadful indian war in the annals of acadia. all the tribes east of the merrimac took part in it, including the maliseets and micmacs. this war is known in history as king william's war, from the name of the english monarch in whose reign it occurred. it lasted with little intermission for ten years, and during its progress the settlers of eastern new england suffered the most fearful outrages at the hands of the infuriated savages. every settlement in maine save wells, york, kittery and the isle of shoals was over run, and a thousand white people killed or taken prisoners. as in the case of other wars which the indians have waged with the whites, the latter were responsible for its origin. about twelve years before it broke out, major waldron treacherously seized a band of indians at dover in new hampshire and sent them to boston, where several of them were hanged for alleged complicity in philip's war[ ] and others sold into slavery. this despicable act the indians never forgot nor forgave. [ ] this war broke out in and was confined chiefly to the tribes of massachusetts. it was of short duration; the indian sagamore philip was slain. the immediate cause of king william's war, however, was the ill considered act of governor andros of pillaging the trading post of baron de st. castin, at penobscot. st. castin had formerly served in the carignan salieres regiment under frontenac, but for twenty years had lived in this region, where he had married a daughter of the maliseet chieftain madockawando and was highly esteemed by the savages. it was at the instigation of st. castin and madockawando that the indians determined to take the war path. the first notable incident of the war was the destruction of dover, where major waldron and twenty-two others were killed and twenty-nine taken prisoners. this occurred in june, , and the story of the affair, as told by the st. john river indians to their english captive, john gyles, is in substance as follows:-- there was a truce with the indians for some days, during which time two squaws came into the garrison. they told major waldron that a number of indians were not far away with a considerable quantity of beaver and would be there to trade with him the next day. the weather was inclement and the women begged leave to lodge in the garrison. some of the people were much opposed to this, but the major said: "let the poor creatures lodge by the fire." the defences of the place were of the weakest kind, the gates had no locks but were fastened with pins and the garrison kept no watch. the squaws had a favorable opportunity to prosecute their design. they went into every apartment observing the number in each, and when all the people were asleep arose and opened the gates, gave the signal agreed upon and the other indians came to them and, having received an account of the state of the garrison, they divided their forces according to the number of the people in each apartment and soon took or killed them all. major waldron lodged within an inner room and when the indians broke in upon him he cried out: "what now! what now!" and jumping out of his bed seized his sword and drove them before him through two or three doors, but upon his turning about towards the apartment he had just left, an indian came up behind him and knocked him on the head with his hatchet, which stunned him and he fell. they then seized him, dragged him out, and setting him up on a long table in his hall, bade him "judge indians again." then they cut and stabbed him and he cried out "o lord! o lord!" they called for his book of accounts and ordered him to cross out all the indian debts, he having traded much with them. then one and another gashed his naked breast, saying in derision: "i cross out my account." then cutting a joint from a finger, one would say: "will your fist weigh a pound now?" this in allusion to his having sometimes used his fist as a pound weight in buying and selling. and so they proceeded to torture him to death with every refinement of savage cruelty, after which they burned the garrison post and drew off. a few days after this tragic event a number of people were killed by the indians at saco, and in the month of august the important post at pemaquid, midway between the kennebec and penobscot rivers, was taken and the adjoining settlement destroyed. according to charlevoix a large number of st. john river indians participated in this exploit. among their prisoners was a lad named gyles whose experience during the nine years he lived in captivity on the st. john river is told in his very interesting narrative published in boston in . we shall have more to say about gyles and his narrative further on, but it may be observed in passing that we are greatly indebted to him for the knowledge we possess of the life of the indians of the river st. john two centuries ago. as doctor hannay well observes: "by the light of such a narrative we are able to perceive how wretched was the lot of an acadian indian, even during the period when his very name carried terror to the hearts of the settlers of maine and new hampshire. modern civilization may have degraded him in some respects but it has at least rescued him from the danger of starvation and also from the cruel necessity of abandoning his kindred to perish when unable longer to supply their own wants or endure the constant journeys necessitated by the nature of their nomad life." early in count frontenac dispatched an expedition from quebec to ravage the new england settlements; their leader was portneuf, brother of menneval and villebon. there were fifty french and seventy indians in the original party, which was afterwards joined by thirty-six french and a large band of maliseets from the st. john, also by the indians of passamaquoddy and penobscot, making a war party of five hundred men. on the th of may they attacked the town of falmouth--now portland. the inhabitants fled for protection within the ramparts of fort loyal. at the expiration of four or five days the garrison was obliged to surrender and portneuf promised the vanquished quarter and a guard to the nearest english town. the terms of surrender were shamefully violated, fort loyal and falmouth were reduced to ashes and over one hundred men, women and children murdered by the savages. from may to october their bodes lay exposed to the elements and wild beasts but were finally buried by major benjamin church as he passed on an expedition to the eastward. to revenge themselves on the french, whom they regarded as the instigators of this savage warfare, the new englanders fitted out an expedition under sir william phips which captured port royal and carried menneval, the governor, away a prisoner. his brother villebon, who suceeded to the command, concluded to abandon port royal and to re-establish the post at the mouth of the jemseg on the river st. john. villebon, with all his faults, is one of the most picturesque characters in the history of acadia. he was greatly admired by the savages who deemed him to be every inch a chief. diereville, the poet historian, saw him at st. john in and describes him as "a great man of fine appearance and full of energy." having served for several years in a subordinate capacity at port royal he was now called upon to fill a difficult position and it must be confessed he acted with zeal and ability. adverse fortune embittered him at the outset. two pirate vessels came to port royal while he was absent preparing for his removal to the st. john river. these marauders burned the houses and killed the cattle; they even hanged two of the inhabitants and burned a woman and her children in her own dwelling. what was still worse for villebon they captured the ship union, just arrived from france with merchandize, provisions, ammunition and presents for the savages. villebon was well fitted for such an emergency as this; he assembled his dusky allies, explained the loss of their presents and offered himself to go to their great father, the king of france, for more. the indians pledged their fidelity and promised him one hundred and fifty warriors the next spring to aid him in his designs against the english. at the court of france villebon was favorably received and returned with a commission from the king to command in acadia. soon after he abandoned the jemseg fort and moved up the river to the mouth of the nashwaak where in the upper angle formed by the junction of that river with the st. john he built in a new fort which he called fort st. joseph. it was an ordinary palisaded fort about feet square, with four bastions, and had eight cannon mounted. in the old french documents of the period it is usually called fort nachouac, with many varieties of spelling, such as naxoat, naxouac, natchouak, etc. the older french maps place the fort on the south, or fredericton side of the river, but there can be no doubt as to its proper location in the upper angle formed by the junction of the river nashwaak with the st. john. the greater portion of the site has been washed away, but traces of the ramparts were visible within the memory of those yet living and many cannon balls and other relics have been found in the vicinity. villebon had now been some years in acadia, for bishop st. vallier says that he was in command of the garrison at port royal at the time of his visit there in . he had ample opportunity of becoming familiar with the country and its native inhabitants, and was in this way fitted to second the ambitious designs of the french, which embraced the destruction of new york and the conquest of new england. when count frontenac came out to quebec in , to fill for the second time the position of governor and commander-in-chief of new france, he was in his seventieth year, yet his old time vigor and determination were unabated. it was part of his plan to avail himself of the hostility of the savages to wear down and discourage the english settlers and so to pave the way for french supremacy. he had no abler lieutenants in the work he had undertaken than the sons of charles le moyne, of whom villebon, portneuf and d'iberville were particularly conspicuous in the indian wars. immediately after his arrival, frontenac encouraged the savages to begin those operations against the english settlements known in the history of new england as the "winter raids." montague chamberlain tersely describes the situation thus: "frontenac decided that he could only succeed in holding canada for the french crown by enlisting the aid of the savages, and to secure that aid he must permit them to make war in their own savage way, and so from all the doomed hamlets came the same horrifying tale--houses burned, men, women and children slaughtered or carried into captivity." it is difficult at this distant day to conceive the horrors of the savage warfare that prevailed at this time on the new england frontiers. the indians roamed over the country like wolves, and the white settlers never knew when their appalling war whoop would ring in their startled ears. it was an age of cruelty and the outrages perpetrated provoked reprisals on the part of the new englanders. the close alliance between the indians and the french, and the fact that in several of the raids the savages were led by french officers, led to a bitter race hatred and mutual distrust between the descendants of the saxon and the gaul, which lasted for generations. in the course of the desultory warfare that followed the destruction of falmouth, more than houses were burned in various parts of the country, and frontenac himself speaks of the ravages of the savages as "impossible to describe." on the th february, , they raided the frontier settlement of york, which they left in ashes after killing about seventy-five persons and taking prisoners--among those killed was the venerable mr. dummer, the minister of the place. with the opening of the spring time villebon received a delegation of warriors of the kennebec and penobscot tribes at his fort. the visitors were welcomed with imposing ceremonies; there was the usual interchange of compliments and speeches by the chiefs and captains, presents from the king were distributed and the inevitable banquet followed with its mirth and revelry. it was agreed at this conference to organize a great war party. couriers were dispatched to summon all the tribes of acadia and the response was general. the site of what is now the village of gibson, opposite fredericton, was dotted with the encampments of the indians, and as the warriors arrived and departed, arrayed in their war paint and feathers, the scene was animated and picturesque. the maliseets of the st. john sent their delegation from medoctec, the micmacs of the miramichi arrived a few days later, and then came another band of micmacs from beaubassin (or chignecto), accompanied by father baudoin, their priest. speeches of welcome, presents and feasts were made in turn to all, and each band proceeded by the old and well known route[ ] to the rendezvous on the penobscot, near oldtown (maine.) here there gathered a war party of at least men, including a score of frenchmen. their first attack was made on the little village of wells, where there were only some thirty men to resist the attack, but they were led by captain converse, a very courageous and determined officer, who had already tried the mettle of the savages and who was not to be overawed even by overwhelming numbers. the attacking party advanced with hideous yells, firing and calling on the english to surrender, but the bullets of the defenders was the only answer they received. even the women of the settlement took part in the fight, passing ammunition to the men, loading their guns, and sometimes themselves firing on the enemy. [ ] the route was up the st. john to the medoctec village, thence by eel river and the chain of lakes to the mattawamkeag and down that river to the penobscot. the savages became discouraged and offered favorable terms to the garrison, converse replied: "we want nothing but men to fight with." an indian, who could speak english, shouted, "don't stay in the house like a squaw, come out and fight like a man!" converse replied: "do you think i am fool enough to come out with thirty men to fight five hundred?" the indians at length abandoned the attack and retired greatly crest fallen. thus a few determined men foiled one of the most formidable bands that ever took the war path in acadia. same of the horrors of indian warfare almost pass description and if villebon did not sanction he at least did little to hinder the atrocities of his savage allies. he writes in his journal, "an english savage was taken on the lower part of the st. john river; i gave him to our savages to be burned, which they did the next day; one could add nothing to the torments that they made him suffer." from time to time the indians appear to have grown weary of fighting. their failure at wells, the rebuilding of fort pemaquid and the erection of other fortifications by the now thoroughly aroused new englanders, the desire for the ransom of relatives held by the enemy as hostages, and a suspicion that the french were making use of them in their own interest inclined them to make peace with the english. villebon was obliged to exert all his influence to keep them on the war path. he flattered and feasted the chiefs, made presents to the warriors, provided powder and shot for their hunting and finally adopted taxous, one of their most famous chiefs, as his brother and to honor the occasion gave him his own best coat. the journals and correspondence of villebon are full of interest to the student of affairs on the st. john. at this time there came annually to st. john harbor--then known by its indian name, menagoesche--a french man of war with supplies for fort nachouac and a variety of articles for the indians. an inventory now in the boston public library, dated , shows that in that year the frigate "suzanne" brought out for the "malecites" a supply of powder, lead, guns, bayonets; also shirts, blankets, laced hats, etc. the arrival of the annual warships was eagerly looked for by the indians and villebon was able to make good use of the articles he received. the reference made by john gyles in his narrative to the arrival of the ships from france is of interest. "there came annually," he says, "one or two men of war to supply the fort which was on the river about leagues from the sea. the indians (of medoctec) having advice of the arrival of a man of war at the mouth of the river, they about forty in number went on board, for the gentlemen from france made a present to them every year, and set forth the riches and victories of their monarch, etc. at this time they presented the indians with a bag or two of flour with some prunes as ingredients for a feast. "i, who was dressed up in an old greasy blanket without cap, hat or shirt, (for i had no shirt for six years, except the one i had on at the time i was made prisoner) was invited into the great cabin, where many well-rigged gentlemen were sitting, who would fain have had a full view of me. i endeavored to hide myself behind the hangings, for i was much ashamed, thinking how i had once worn clothes and of my living with people who could rig as well as the best of them.... this was the first time i had seen the sea during my captivity, and the first time i had tasted salt or bread. my master presently went on shore and a few days later all the indians went up the river." in connection with villebon's endeavors to keep the savages loyal to the king of france there are items in the accounts transmitted by him to the french minister that are quite interesting and suggestive, as for example the following: "to the wife of nadanouil, a savage, for making two pairs of snowshoes for the king, tobacco lbs." "jan., . to savages come from the river of medoctic to bring some letters of father simon to mon. de villebon, flour, lbs.; tobacco, oz. "july , . m. thury, missionary, having arrived with taxous, chief of the canibas and other savages from pentagouet; brandy, gallon; tobacco, lbs." the garrison at fort nashwaak was always small, comprising only about forty soldiers besides an armorer, gunner and surgeon. there was also a chaplain of the recollet order, father elizee, who is described as a man so retiring by nature as to meddle with nothing outside his ministerial duty. this was not the case with the other missionary priests, however, who influenced by patriotic motives and encouraged by the french authorities took quite an energetic part in helping on the warfare against new england. the french owed much of the aid afforded their cause, including the co-operation of their indian allies, to the zeal of the missionaries settled on the different rivers, ralle on the kennebec, thury on the penobscot and simon on the st. john. the only woman who lived within the ramparts of fort nashwaak seems to have been the wife of the armorer. she was deemed one of the garrison and received her daily allowance with the rest. in spite of villebon's energy and ability and of his zeal in the service of his country very serious complaints were made against him by some of the french people living on the st. john river. they asserted that his threats and ill usage had caused several of the settlers to abandon their habitations and remove to quebec with their families; that he tried to monopolize the fur trade, sending his brothers portneuf and des isles into the woods to engage in unlawful traffic with the indians; that the former was guilty of gross immorality and the latter traded the peltry obtained from the savages with one john alden, an englishman, by whom it was carried to boston. this john alden was, by the way, the eldest son of the famous john alden of the "mayflower," the plymouth magistrate, by his wife priscilla, the puritan maiden immortalized by longfellow. he made many trading voyages to the bay of fundy and on several occasions narrowly escaped capture by the french. that there was some ground for the charges preferred against villebon seems likely from the fact that most of the missionaries censured him and confirmed the reports of the inhabitants concerning the misconduct of his brothers. the chaplain at fort nachouac, however, spoke favorably of villebon, although he was silent with regard to portneuf. in his letters to the authorities in france, villebon vigorously replies to his accusers and brings counter charges; he is seemingly very indignant with the d'amour brothers of whom we shall hear more in another chapter. in consequence of the charges preferred against him portneuf was superseded by villieu, an officer of reputation whom count frontenac sent to acadia in october, , to lead the savages against the english. this new lieutenant spent the winter at the nashwaak fort and as soon as the ice was out of the river went in a canoe to medoctec, where he assembled the chiefs who promised to assist him. he then proceeded to penobscot resolved to put an end, if possible, to the parleys that the savages had been holding with the english and to incite them to renew the war. after a week's negotiation, in which he was aided by the powerful influence of the missionaries bigot and thury, he returned to fort nachouac with a delegation of the indians to receive the presents which the king of france had sent to them, and at the same time to secure the assistance of some of governor villebon's soldiers. the governor, however, piqued by the dismissal of portneuf, contented himself with entertaining the delegates. he declined to furnish provisions or supplies, and kept his soldiers from joining the expedition. father simon, the recollet missionary on the st. john, also displayed little sympathy with villieu and kept many of the indians from joining him. however, with the help of the penobscot and kennebec tribes a band of warriors was at last collected and villieu placed himself at their head arrayed in the war paint and feathers of an indian chief. it was decided to strike a blow at the settlement of oyster river, twelve miles from portsmouth, new hampshire. the english settlers, having been informed that peace had been made with the indians and that they could now work with safety on their farms, were totally unprepared for an attack. among their unprotected houses the carnage was horrible. one hundred persons, chiefly women and children, half naked from their beds, were tomahawked, shot, or killed by slower and more cruel methods, twenty seven were kept as prisoners. after engaging in some minor depredations villieu proceeded to montreal accompanied by several of the chiefs where they presented a string of english scalps to count frontenac as a token of their success and received his hearty congratulations. villieu thus summed up the results of the campaign: "two small forts and fifty or sixty houses captured and burnt, and one hundred and thirty english killed or made prisoners." he had done his work all too well and had sown such seeds of distrust between the english and the indians as to render it almost impossible to re-establish peace between them. the enmity lasted for generations and almost every year witnessed some act of hostility even though the crowns of france and england were themselves at peace. in the midst of their triumphs an appalling pestilence swept away great numbers of the indians. on the river st. john more than one hundred and twenty persons died, including some of the most noted warriors and their chief. the pestilence scattered the savages in all directions and for a time their town of medoctec was abandoned. a party of warriors who went with montigny, an officer of villebon's garrison, to assist their brethren to the westward was sent back to medoctec on account of the contagion that had broken out among them. the nature of the disease it is impossible at this distance of time to determine. it could scarcely have been smallpox, according to the description of john gyles, who says: "a person seeming in perfect health would bleed at the mouth and nose, turn blue in spots and die in two or three hours." the first outbreak of the pestilence was in the autumn of . a year later mon. tibierge, agent of the company of acadia, writes that "the plague (la maladie) had broken out afresh: there had died on the river more than persons of every age and sex." the pestilence, however, did not put a stop to the indian warfare. in june, , villebon assembled at his fort a general representation of the tribes of acadia, including fourteen chiefs and their attendants; the conference lasted three days and the proceedings are reported at length in his journal. after the customary feasting and distribution of presents a standard of prices for the purchase and sale of goods was agreed upon more favorable to the natives than heretofore. the chiefs departed firmly resolved to continue the war against the english. their opportunity did not come until the following summer when a combined effort on the part of the french and indians resulted in the destruction of fort william henry at pemaquid. this fortification had just been rebuilt by the colony of massachusetts at a cost of £ , and was the strongest work the english colonists had up to that time erected in america. the walls had a compass in all of feet and were of solid masonry, varying from to feet in height. eight feet from the ground, where the walls had a thickness of six feet, there was a tier of port holes. at one corner was a round tower feet high. the fort was well manned and provisioned and was thought to be impregnable. the leader of the enterprise, which resulted in the destruction of fort william henry, was villebon's brother d'iberville, whose romantic career has earned for him the description of "the cid of new france." d'iberville's indian auxiliaries included micmacs from cape breton, a large band of maliseets and many of their kindred of passamaquoddy, penobscot and kennebec. two warships lately arrived from quebec, accompanied the expedition. villebon left his fort on the th june to go to "menagoesche" to await the coming of the french ships. on his arrival there he discovered the british ships sorlings of guns and newport of guns cruising near the harbor and sent information to d'iberville in order that he might guard against surprise. soon after entering the bay of fundy the french vessels sighted their antagonists and an engagement ensued in the course of which d'iberville in the envieux dismasted the smaller english vessel, the newport, and obliged her to surrender. favored by night and fog the sorlings managed to escape after a combat with the profond lasting three hours. the next day, july , , the vessels put into st. john harbor, where they were welcomed by villebon and father simon and a band of indians. before proceeding to the attack of pemaquid an attempt was made to capture john alden at port royal but with his usual good luck he sailed thence just before the arrival of the french. villebon with father simon's assistance contrived to collect indians--maliseets and micmacs--to join the expedition under his brother, which was further reinforced by a small vessel owned and commanded by the sieur de chauffours, an inhabitant of the st. john river. the start of the expedition was not a very auspicious one, for on leaving the harbor of st. john (or "havre de menuagoesche," as villebon calls it) at o'clock on the afternoon of the nd of august, d'iberville ran the envieux upon a reef; however, the damage was not serious as the ship floated when the tide rose. at penobscot baron st. castin joined the expedition with indians. the french priests simon and thury, as the event proved, were no mere figure heads; they actively assisted in the operations of the siege and at the same time restrained the passions of the savages. batteries were erected within half cannon shot of the fort and it was summoned to surrender. captain chubb, the commander, proved to be a weak man for so responsible a position. he at first replied that though the sea were covered with french ships and the land with indians he would not surrender unless compelled to do so, but the very next day ignominiously pulled down his flag. d'iberville sent the garrison to boston in the vessel belonging to the sieur de chauffours which he had brought from the st. john river. the people of new england were greatly vexed at the destruction of pemaquid and enraged at the cowardly conduct of its commander. father simon got back to fort nachouac on the th august bringing the news of d'iberville's success. chapter vi. nachouac and menagoueche. it was now proposed by the french authorities to re-establish the stronghold at the mouth of the st. john. the old fort of four bastions so far remained that it could readily be restored; the ditches needed to be deepened, the parapets to be raised and new palisades constructed. it was thought that men would suffice to garrison the post as well as that at the nashwaak. the fort was needed to protect french privateers and french commerce. many english vessels were brought to menagoueche at this time by the privateersmen baptiste and guyon. the company of acadia, with tibierge as their agent, continued to develop a thriving trade, and it seems, too, that the forest wealth of the country was beginning to attract attention for villebon, a year or two later, sent home to france a mast, as a specimen, feet long, inches in diameter at one end and at the other. the french privateers were not allowed to ply their vocation with impunity, they often had spirited encounters with the british ships in which there were losses on both sides. in one robineau of nantes, who had taken several english vessels, was forced to burn his ship in st. john harbor, in order to escape capture by an english ship, and to defend himself on shore. the vessels employed as privateers evidently were small, for they sometimes went up the river to villebon's fort. the prisoners taken were kept at the fort or put in charge of the french inhabitants living on the river, and from time to time ransomed by their friends or exchanged for french prisoners taken by the english. villebon informs us that in june, , an english frigate and a sloop arrived at menagoueche (st. john) on business connected with the ransom of eight captives who were then in the hands of the french. messages were exchanged with nachouac and the captain of the english ship, a jovial old tar, expressed a wish to meet governor villebon and "drink with him" and to see captain baptiste, whom he called a brave man, but his overtures were declined. the ships envieux and profond, before proceeding to the attack of fort pemaquid, had landed at st. john a number of cannon and materials of all sorts to be used in the construction of the new fort. this project was not viewed with complacency by the people of new england, and lieut.-governor william stoughton, of massachusetts, thus explains the line of action proposed against the french in a communication addressed to major benjamin church, the old indian fighter, who had been sent from boston in august, , on an expedition against the settlements of acadia: "sir, his majesty's ship orford having lately surprised a french shallop with of the soldiers belonging to the fort (at nashwaak) upon st. john's river in nova scotia, together with villieu, their captain, providence seems to encourage the forming of an expedition to attack that fort, and to disrest and remove the enemy from that post, which is the chief source from whence the most of our disasters do issue, and also to favor with an opportunity for gaining out of their hands the ordnance, artillery, and other warlike stores and provisions lately supplied to them from france for erecting a new fort near the river's mouth, whereby they will be greatly strengthened and the reducing of them rendered more difficult." before the order from which the above extract is quoted was placed in major church's hands he had arrived at st. john, having previously devastated the french settlements at chignecto. being desirous, if possible, to surprise the men engaged upon the new fort church landed at manawagonish cove, a little to the west of the harbor; what followed we shall let him tell in his own quaint fashion. "next morning early the major, with his forces, landed to see what discovery they could make, travelled across the woods to the old fort or falls at the mouth of st. john's river, keeping themselves undiscovered from the enemy. finding that there were several men at work, and having informed themselves as much as they could, returned back (the enemy being on the other side of the river could not come at them). but night coming on and dark wet weather with bad travelling, were obliged to stop in the woods till towards next day morning and then went on board. soon after the major ordered all the vessels to come to sail and go into the mouth of the river, the french firing briskly at them, but did them no harm, and running fiercely upon the enemy they soon fled to the woods. the major ordered a brisk party to run across a neck to cut them off from their canoes[ ] which the day before they had made a discovery of. so the commander, with the rest, ran directly towards the new fort they were building, not knowing but they had some ordnance mounted. the enemy running directly to their canoes were met by our forces who fired at them, and killed one and wounded corporal canton, who was taken. the rest threw down what they had and ran into the woods. the prisoner canton being brought to the major told him if he would let his surgeon dress his wound and cure him he would be serviceable to him as long as he lived. so being dressed he was examined and gave the major an account of the twelve great guns which were hid in the beach, below high water mark--the carriages, shot, and wheelbarrows, some flour and pork all hid in the woods. [ ] these canoes were probably lying in the cove at indiantown just above the falls. "the next morning the officers being all ordered to meet together to consult about going to vilboon's fort, and none amongst them being acquainted but the aldens, who said the water in the river was very low so that they could not get up to the fort; and the prisoner canton told the commander that what the aldens said was true * * so concluded it was not practicable to proceed. then ordered some of the forces to get the great guns on board the open sloops and the rest to range the woods for the enemy, who took one prisoner and brought him in. * * now having with a great deal of pains and trouble got all the guns, shot, and other stores aboard intended on our design which we came out first for. but the wind not serving, the commander sent out his scouts into the woods to seek for the enemy. and four of our indians coming upon three frenchmen undiscovered concluded that if the french should discover them they would fire at them and might kill one or more of them, which to prevent fired at the french, killed one and took the other two prisoners. and it happened that he who was killed was shavelere (chevalier), the chief man there." major church's design was to make a raid on the settlement of baron st. castin and his indians at penobscot by way of retaliation for the destruction of fort william henry at pemaquid, but as he was sailing down the bay he met a small squadron having on board a reinforcement of men under colonel hawthorne. the command now passed to hawthorne as the senior officer, and it was decided to attempt the capture of fort nachouac. this was against the advice of major church, but as the expedition now numbered about men, hawthorne was unwilling to return to boston without striking a blow at the chief stronghold of the french in acadia. villebon was on the alert: he had stationed his ensign, chevalier, with five scouts at the mouth of the river and on the th of october he learned of the presence of the english at menagoueche. chevalier was at first alarmed by the appearance of church's ships off partridge island, and sent word directly to fort nachouac; a day or two later he was killed by some of church's indians as already related. villebon sent his brother neuvillette down the river to continue the look out and in the meantime made every possible preparation for a siege. his garrison, numbering about soldiers, was busily employed in throwing up new intrenchments and mounting additional guns, word was sent to the french inhabitants of the vicinity to repair to the fort and assist in its defence, and villebon, on the th october, sent an urgent message to father simon, the missionary at medoctec, to get the indians to come down as soon as possible if they wished to fight the english. he lost not a moment and having sent out word on all sides (the indians being then dispersed upon the river) he arrived the afternoon of the th, with thirty-six warriors and expressed his desire to remain at the fort as the chaplain was absent. two days later neuvillette returned to the fort and reported that he had seen the enemy in great force about a league and a half below the jemseg. the last preparations were now hurriedly made and on the evening of the th, villebon caused the "generale" (or assembly) to be beat and all the garrison being drawn up under arms he addressed them in stirring words, bidding them to maintain the honor of their country and the reputation of french soldiers, adding that if any should be maimed in the approaching combat the king would provide for him during the rest of his life. this speech created the greatest enthusiasm and the cry of "vive le roy" awoke the forest echoes and was borne over the waters. the same evening a dozen frenchmen who lived in the vicinity arrived at the fort. among them were the brothers mathieu and rene d'amours and the privateersman baptiste. villebon assigned to baptiste and rene d'amours the duty of heading the indians and opposing the landing of the english. the sketch on the next page, based upon a plan in the archives de la marine, paris[ ] will serve to give an idea of the general character of fort nachouac. the space of ground enclosed by the palisade was about feet square; the site, as already stated, lay in the upper angle formed by the junction of the nashwaak with the river st. john, nearly opposite the cathedral in fredericton. the general arrangement of the buildings is shown in the plan. at the rear of the enclosure is the commandant's lodging, on the right hand side the guard house and on the left the soldiers' barracks; at the front is the gate and in the lower left hand corner the bake oven; cannons were placed at each corner. a small room in the left end of the commandant's lodging was fitted up as a chapel. the ditches and ramparts that surrounded the enclosure added considerably to the strength of the position. the bastions were so arranged that the space outside the walls was entirely commanded by the musketry fire of the defenders. the loopholes at the corners from which the fire was delivered are shown in the sketch. [ ] the author is indebted to dr. w. f. ganong for his kindness in furnishing the sketch from which the accompanying plan of illustration has been made. it is not, of course, a copy of the original, but gives an idea of the general character of the fortification. [illustration: fort nachouac, a. d. .] everything being now in order for the defence of his fort villebon ordered the garrison to pass the night under arms, as from the barking of the dogs it was believed the enemy was drawing near. the next morning between eight and nine o'clock, whilst father simon was celebrating mass in the chapel, a shallop filled with armed men rounded the point below, followed by two others. the alarm was at once given and every man repaired to his post. the sloops approached within the distance of half a cannon shot when the guns of the fort opened on them and they were forced to retire below the point where they effected a landing. villebon did not deem it prudent to oppose the landing as his men would have had to cross the nashwaak river to do so and this would have been very imprudent. the english took up a position on the south side of the nashwaak stream and threw up an earthwork upon which they placed two field guns from which they opened fire on the fort; a third gun of larger size was mounted soon afterwards nearer the fort, but not being sheltered it was not much used. the beseigers hoisted the royal standard of england and there were cheers and counter-cheers on the part of the combatants. the cannon fire was heavy on both sides but the guns of the fort being better mounted and well served had rather the advantage. there was also a sharp exchange of musketry fire, the st. john river indians, from the bushes along the shore, engaging in a vicious fight with church's indians on the opposite side of the stream. when darkness ended the day's struggle the english had made little or no progress. the following night being very cold they made fires to keep themselves from freezing, but this afforded a sure mark for the french cannon, which opened on them with grape shot, and they were obliged to put them out and suffer the inclemency of the weather. major church's men being almost bare of clothing from their long service, suffered extremely and were ill disposed to continue the siege. at daybreak the musketry fire from the fort recommenced and about o'clock the english again got their guns into operation, but la cote, who had distinguished himself the evening before by firing rapidly and accurately, dismounted one of their field guns and silenced the other. it was now apparent that the fort could not be taken without a regular investment and in view of the lateness of the season this was not deemed advisable. the massachusetts historian mather quaintly observes, "the difficulty of the cold season so discouraged our men that after some few shot the enterprize found itself under too much congelation to proceed any further." and so the following night the new england troops re-embarked after lighting fires over a considerable extent of ground in order to deceive the french. when the morning dawned their camp was deserted and soon after neuvillette, who had been sent down the river to reconnoitre, reported that after he had gone three leagues he found them embarked in four vessels of about tons and going down the river with a fair wind. on their return towards the mouth of the river the invaders burned the house and barns of mathieu d'amours at freneuse, opposite the oromocto, and laid waste his fields. the sieur de freneuse was himself so much injured by exposure during the siege that he died shortly afterwards. major church took back with him to boston a negro man of marblehead, who had been taken prisoner by the french and kept amongst them for some time. he was probably the first of his race to set foot within the borders of new brunswick. in the siege of his fort villebon lost only one man killed and two wounded while the english loss is said to have been eight soldiers killed and five officers and twelve soldiers wounded. the effect of the capture of pemaquid by d'iberville and the repulse of the english by villebon greatly encouraged the savages of acadia in their hostility and the following summer another raid on the english settlements was planned. a large number of micmacs came from the eastward, some of them from the basin of minas, with st. cosme, their priest, at their head. they were entertained by villebon, furnished with ammunition and supplies and sent on to the rendezvous at penobscot. father simon and maliseets were sent in the same direction soon afterwards with instructions to pick up the passamaquoddies on their way; they departed in high spirits with the intention of giving no quarter to the enemy and villebon encouraged their animosity, exhorting them "to burn and to destroy." this advice they followed to the letter for the governor wrote in his journal shortly afterwards, "the missionary, m. de thury, confirms the report i already had received of four small parties of our indians having killed fifteen or sixteen english and burnt one of them alive on account of one of their chiefs being slain." the vindictiveness of the indians is further illustrated by an incident that happened at the medoctic village in the time of king william's war, in which john gyles and james alexander, two english captives, were cruelly abused. a party of indians from cape sable, having had some of their relatives killed by english fishermen, travelled all the way to medoctec in order to wreak their vengeance upon any english captives they might find. they rushed upon their unfortunate victims like bears bereaved of their whelps, saying, "shall we, who have lost our relations by the english, suffer an english voice to be heard among us?" the two captives were brutally beaten and ill used and made to go through a variety of performances for the amusement of their tormenters. gyles says: "they put a tomahawk into my hands and ordered me to get up, sing and dance indian, which i performed with the greatest reluctance and while in the act seemed determined to purchase my death by killing two or three of these monsters of cruelty, thinking it impossible to survive the bloody treatment.... not one of them showed the least compassion, but i saw the tears run down plentifully on the cheeks of a frenchman who sat behind." the tortures were continued until the evening of what gyles might well call "a very tedious day." finally a couple of indians threw the two wretched men out of the big wigwam, where they had been tormented; they crawled away on their hands and knees and were scarcely able to walk for several days. the experience of gyles was, however, nothing in comparison with that of his brother and another captive taken by the indians at the same time as himself. this unfortunate pair attempted to desert, but failed and were subjected to the most horrible tortures and finally burned alive by the savages. the people of the frontier settlements were now so on the alert that, although the indians roamed over the country like wolves, they were usually prepared to meet them. every little village had its block house and sentinels, and every farmer worked in his fields with his musket at his side. nevertheless tragic events occasionally happened. in february, , captain chubb, of pemaquid notoriety, and six others were killed by the indians at andover, several of the inhabitants were captured and many houses burned; major frost was slain at kittery and a number of people at wells; major marsh had a sharp fight near pemaquid, in which he lost twenty-five of his men, but succeeded in putting the savages to rout. this was the last blood shed during king william's war. the indians were becoming weary of fighting and the peace of ryswick deprived them of the open assistance of their french allies. for a brief season peace reigned in acadia. the expedition under church had interrupted the rebuilding of the fort at st. john and shown the correctness of villebon's prediction in a letter written to the french minister in that it was impossible with the few men at his disposal to attempt a work which, though easy to repair could not be completed as quickly as the enemy could get ready to destroy it. in the same letter he speaks of making plank near fort nachouac for the madriens, or gun platforms, of the fort at menagoueche. as there were mills at this time at port royal, it would be possible from this incident to frame a theory that villebon had a saw mill a short distance up the nashwaak, say at marysville, but it is more probable the planks were cut in saw pits by the soldiers of the garrison. the plan of the fort at st. john was agreed on in , and , livres granted for its construction. villebon paid his workmen sous (about cts.) a day, his laborers sous, and the soldiers sous a day over their pay and a weekly allowance of qr. lb. tobacco. the walls of the fort were laid in clay and mortar, pounders were placed on the bastions and -pounders could be placed there three on each bastion. by the end of the year villebon was able to report the fort in a condition to do honor to whoever should defend it. he had left nachouac just as it was, leaving only two men to see that nothing was spoiled by the savages. a plan in the marine archives at paris, made by villieu in , shows that "fort de la riviere de st. jean," or fort menagoueche, was built at "old fort site," behind navy island in carleton. the general plan was the same as that of fort nachouac, but it was considerably larger, nearly feet square. within the enclosure were barracks for the soldiers, a residence for the governor with small chapel adjoining it, a house for the officers of the garrison, lodgings for the surgeon, gunner and armorer, a small prison and a well, and just outside the gate were two bake-houses. the water supply of the fort seems always to have been inadequate. the sieur des goutins, who disliked villebon, complains in a letter of rd june, , "the governor keeps the water within the fort for the exclusive use of his kitchen and his mare, others being obliged to use snow-water, often very dirty." diereville, who visited st. john during his short stay in acadia describes the fort as "built of earth, with four bastions fraised (or picketed) each having six large guns." a new industry was now coming into existence, namely the shipping of masts to france for the king's navy; diereville sailed to france in the avenant "a good king's ship," mounting guns which had brought out the ammunition and provisions that placentia and the fort on the river st. john received annually. this ship took on board a number of fine masts that carpenters and mast makers in his majesty's service had manufactured at the river st. john. the vessel left acadia on the th of october and reached france in days. the period of governor villebon's residence at st. john was of about two years' duration. he died on the th july, , and was buried near the fort. the life of this devoted son of new france went out with the century and with his death the seat of government of acadia was again transferred to port royal. brouillan now succeeded to the command. he found the fort at st. john in good order, as was to be expected, it having been just rebuilt, but in the opinion of the new governor it was of little use for the glory of the king or for the preservation of the country. he condemned the situation as being commanded on one side by an island at the distance of a pistol shot, and on the other by a height at the distance only of a hundred and odd fathoms (toises), and with a very insufficient water supply. he therefore caused the fortifications to be razed, demolished the houses, and carried away the guns and everything else of a portable character to port royal. the inhabitants living on the river st. john were left without protection and they seem almost without exception to have removed, some to quebec and others to port royal. the valley of the st. john was thus left as deserted and desolate as it had been previous to the arrival of champlain. the indian might wander at will among the ruins of forts and dwellings abandoned to his care, or left to be converted into hiding places for the wild beasts and wonder at the folly of the white man who had forsaken the finest river in all acadia with its wealth of forest and stream and its fertile lands awaiting the hands of industry and thrift. chapter vii. the brothers d'amours. among the young adventurers who came to acadia towards the close of the seventeenth century were four brothers, sons of mathieu d'amours[ ] of quebec. the father's political influence as a member of the supreme council enabled him to obtain for each of his sons an extensive seigniory. that of louis d'amours, the eldest, included a tract of land of generous proportions at the richibucto river; the grant was issued september , , but the seignior had already built there a fort and two small houses, and for two years had been cultivating a piece of land. his sojourn was brief, for in a year or two we find him living on the river st. john, where his brothers mathieu and rene were settled and where they were not long after joined by their brother bernard. [ ] this gentleman married in marie, the eldest daughter of nicolas marselot of quebec; she was a very youthful bride, being only years old at the time of her marriage; she was the mother of children. as mentioned in a previous chapter, it was customary among the french noblesse for each son to take a surname derived from some portion of the family estate; accordingly the sons of councillor d'amours figure in history as louis d'amours, sieur de chauffours; mathieu d'amours, sieur de freneuse; rene d'amours, sieur de clignancourt and bernard d'amours, sieur de plenne. after his arrival at the river st. john, louis d'amours fixed his abode on the banks of the jemseg and became the proprietor of the seigniory formerly owned by the sieur de soulanges. his brother, and nearest neighbor, mathieu's seigniory included all the land "between gemisik and nachouac," two leagues in depth on each side of the river. the wives of louis and mathieu d'amours were sisters, marguerite and louise guyon of quebec. to rene d'amours, sieur de clignancourt, was granted a seigniory extending from the indian village of medoctec to the "longue sault." the longue sault was probably the meductic rapids twelve miles below the village of medoctec, although it may have been the grand falls eighty miles above. the sieur de clignancourt fixed his headquarters a few miles above fredericton at or near eccles island, which was formerly called "cleoncore"--a corruption of clignancourt. an old census shows he lived in that vicinity in , and this is confirmed by a statement in an official report of the same year that he lived a league from fort nachouac. rene d'amours had an extensive trade with the indians, he was unmarried and lived the life of a typical "coureur de bois." bernard d'amours, the youngest of the quartette, came to acadia rather later than his brothers and was granted a seigniory at canibecachice (kennebecasis), a league and a half along each side of the river and two leagues in depth.[ ] he married jeanne le borgne, and their son alexander was baptized at port royal in by a recollet missionary. [ ] the grants of louis d'amours at richibucto, and of mathieu and rene on the st. john river are of the same date, september , ; that of bernard on the kennebeccasis is dated june , . the brothers d'amours were in the prime of life when they came to acadia; the census of de meulles taken in gives the age of louis as years and that of mathieu as . all the brothers engaged in hunting and trading with the indians and were in consequence disliked by governor villebon, who viewed them with a jealous eye and mentions them in unfavorable terms in his official dispatches. villebon's hostility was no doubt intensified by a representation made to the french ministry in by louis d'amours that the governor of acadia, to advance his own private fortune, engaged in trade, absolutely prohibited by his majesty, both with the natives of the country and with the people of new england. frontenac and champigny at this time filled the offices respectively of governor and intendant (or lieutenant governor) of new france, and the king in his message to them, dated at versailles june , , refers to matters on the river st. john in the following terms: "his majesty finds it necessary to speak on the subject of the grants obtained by the sieurs d'amours, which comprehend an immense tract of land along the river st. john. it is commonly reported that since they have lived there they have not engaged in clearing and cultivating their lands, that they have no cattle nor any other employment than that of a miserable traffic exclusively with the savages; and as his majesty has been informed that the lands in those parts are the best in the world, watered by large rivers and in a situation more temperate and pleasant than other parts of canada, the sieurs d'amours must be compelled to establish themselves upon a better footing; and those people who are to have new grants of land are directed to this part of acadia where, as his majesty is informed, the sieurs d'amours pretend to have exclusive possession of about thirty leagues of country." that the sentiments of this royal message were inspired by villebon is evident from the tenor of the letters he addresses to the french ministry at this time. in one of these he says of the brothers d'amours: "they are four in number living on the st. john river. they are given up to licentiousness and independence for the ten or twelve years they have been here. they are disobedient and seditious and require to be watched." in another communication he scornfully terms them "the pretended gentry" (soi disant gentilhommes). writing to the french minister the next year he observes: "i have no more reason, my lord, to be satisfied with the sieurs d'amours than i previously had. the one who has come from france has not pleased me more than the other two. their minds are wholly spoiled by long licentiousness and the manners they have acquired among the indians, and they must be watched closely as i had the honor to state to you last year." fortunately for the reputation of the brothers d'amours we have evidence that places them in a more favorable light than does the testimony of governor villebon. m. de champigny, the intendant at quebec, wrote to the french minister. "the sons of the sieur d'amours, member of the supreme council at quebec, who are settled on the river st. john, apply themselves chiefly to cultivating their lands and raising cattle. "i sent you, my lord, the census of their domain, which has been made by father simon, the recollet, who is missionary on the same river, in which you may have every confidence, he being a very honest man. it is very unfortunate, my lord, that any one should have informed you that they lead a licentious life with the savages for i have reliable testimony that their conduct is very good. it seems as if all who live in that locality are in a state of discord; the inhabitants make great complaints against the sieurs de villebon and des goutins. some who have come to quebec say they are constantly so harrassed and oppressed that if things are not put upon a better footing they will be compelled to abandon the country." that the inhabitants living on the river were turning their attention to agriculture is shown by a communication to frontenac or champigny in , in which the writer, probably villieu, says: "i informed you last year, monsieur, by the memo that i did myself the honor to send you, that the inhabitants of this river begin to cultivate their lands. i have since learned that they have raised some grain. m. de chouffours, who had sown so considerably last year, has not received anything in return, the worms having eaten the seed in the ground; m. de freneuse, his brother, has harvested about hogsheads of wheat and m. de clignancourt very little; m. bellefontaine, about hogsheads; the sieur martel very little, as he has only begun to cultivate his land during the last two years; the other inhabitants nothing at all, unless it is a little indian corn. the sieurs d'amours, except the sieur clignancourt, have sown this year pretty considerably of wheat and the sieur bellefontaine also, the sieur martel some rye and wheat and much peas. the other inhabitants have sown some indian corn, which would have turned out well only they have sown too late on account of their land being inundated." baron la hontan visited fort nashouac about . he describes the st. john as "a very pleasant river, adorned with fields that are very fertile in grain." he says that two gentlemen of the name of d'amours have a settlement there for beaver hunting. the census made in by simon, the french missionary, shows that there were then ten families, numbering forty-nine persons, on the st. john river, besides the garrison at fort nachouac. their live stock included cattle and swine; there were acres of land under cultivation and in pasture; the crop of that year included bushels of wheat, of corn, of oats, of peas. the testimony of john gyles, who spent three years in the family of louis d'amours at the jemseg, conclusively disproves villebon's assertion that the d'amours tilled no land and kept no cattle. he speaks of a fine wheat field owned by his master, in which the blackbirds created great havoc and describes a curious attempt made by a friar to exorcise the birds. a procession was formed, headed by the friar, in his white robe with a young lad as his attendant and some thirty people following. gyles asked some of the prisoners, who had lately been taken by privateers and brought to the jemseg, whether they would go back with him to witness the ceremony, but they emphatically refused to witness it and when gyles expressed his determination to go, one of them, named woodbury, said he was "as bad as a papist and a d--d fool." the procession passed and re-passed from end to end of the field with solemn words of exorcism accompanied by the tinkling of a little bell, the blackbirds constantly rising before them only to light behind them. "at their return," says gyles, "i told a french lad that the friar had done no service and recommended them to shoot the birds. the lad left me, as i thought, to see what the friar would say to my observation, which turned out to be the case, for he told the lad that the sins of the people were so great that he could not prevail against those birds." a story analogous to this is related in dr. samuel peters' history of connecticut, of the celebrated george whitefield, the new england independent minister and revivalist: "time not having destroyed the wall of the fort at saybrooke, whitefield, in , attempted to bring down the wall as joshua did those of jericho, hoping thereby to convince the multitude of his divine mission. he walked seven times around the fort with prayer and ram's horn blowing, he called on the angel of joshua to do as he had done at the walls of jericho; but the angel was deaf to his call and the wall remained. thereupon george cried aloud: 'this town is accursed and the wall shall stand as a monument of a sinful people!'" mathieu d'amours, sieur de freneuse, seems to have thought seriously of leaving the st. john river on account of the difficulties and discouragements of his situation, for on the th august, , he made out to one michel chartier, of schoodic, in acadia, a lease of his seignioral manor of freneuse, consisting of arpents (acres) of arable land under the plough, meadow, forest and undergrowth, with houses, barns and stables thereon, a cart and plough rigged ready for work; also all the oxen, cows, bullocks, goats, pigs, poultry, furniture and household utensils that might remain from the sale which he proposed to make. chartier was to enjoy the right of trade with the indians through the whole extent of the manor except where lands had been granted by the sieur de freneuse to private individuals. the lease was to be for a term of five years beginning with the first day of may following, and the lessee was to pay the sieur de freneuse livres annually, half in money and half in small furs, such as beaver, otter and martins. it is not likely that this transaction was ever consummated, for less than three months after the lease was arranged and six months before chartier was to take possession, all the buildings of the sieur de freneuse were burned, his cattle destroyed and his fields laid waste by hawthorne's expedition returning from their unsuccessful seige of fort nachouac. the original lease, a very interesting document, is now in possession of dr. w. f. ganong and a fac-simile of the signature of the sieur de freneuse is here given.[ ] [ ] a copy of the original lease of the seigniory of freneuse, with translation, and remarks by dr. ganong, will be found in vol. i., p. , of acadiensis, printed at st. john by d. r. jack, to whose kindness and that of dr. ganong i am indebted for the signature given above.--w. o. r. [illustration: signature of sieur de freneuse] the seigniory included both sides of the st. john river in sunbury county, and the most fertile portions of the parishes of maugerville, sheffield, burton and lincoln. the name freneuse is found in most of the maps of that region down to the time of the american revolution. the residence of the sieur de freneuse stood on the east bank of the st. john opposite the mouth of the oromocto river. mathieu d'amours, as already stated, died in consequence of exposure at the siege of fort nachouac. sixty years later the lands he had cleared and tilled and the site of his residence were transferred to the hands of the first english settlers on the river, the maugerville colony of . his widow, madame louise guyon, went to port royal, where her indiscretion created a sensation that resulted in voluminous correspondence on the part of the authorities and finally led to her removal to quebec. rene d'amours, during his sojourn on the river st. john, was much engrossed in trade with the natives. he made periodical visits to their villages and was well known at medoctec, where gyles lived as a captive, and it is not unlikely the frenchmen living at that village were his retainers. he seems to have made little or no attempt to fulfil the conditions necessary to retain possession of his seignioral manor, for to his mind the charms of hunting and trading surpassed those of farming. his visits to medoctec to purchase furs and skins when the indians had returned from their winter hunts were of doubtful advantage to the poor savages, for gyles tells us that "when they came in from hunting they would be drunk and fight for several days and nights together, till they had spent most of their skins in wine and brandy, which was brought to the village by a frenchman called monsieur sigenioncor" (clignancourt). the latter portion of the narrative of john gyles throws light on the course of events on the st. john during villebon's regime, and supplies us with a particularly interesting glimpse of domestic life in the home of louis d'amours on the banks of the jemseg, where gyles spent the happiest years of his captivity. the wife of the sieur de chauffours, marguerite guyon[ ], appears in an especially amiable light. her lonely situation and rude surroundings, the perils of the wilderness and of savage war, amidst which her little children were born, evoke our sympathy. her goodness of heart is seen in her motherly kindness to gyles, the young stranger of an alien race--the "little english," as she calls him. but with all her amiability and gentleness she possessed other and stronger qualities, and it was her woman's wit and readiness of resource that saved her husband's fortunes in a grave emergency. the story shall be told in gyles' own words. [ ] louis d'amours married marguerite guyon in , about the time he settled on the st. john river. they had three children. "when about six years of my doleful captivity had passed, my second indian master died, whose squaw and my first indian disputed whose slave i should be. some malicious persons advised them to end the quarrel by putting a period to my life; but honest father simon, the priest of the river, told them that it would be a heinous crime and advised them to sell me to the french." the suggestion of father simon was adopted and gyles, now in his sixteenth year, went with the missionary and the indians to the mouth of the river, the occasion of their journey being the arrival of a french man-of-war at menagoueche with supplies for the garrison and presents for the indians. "my master asked me," continues gyles, "whether i chose to be sold aboard the man-of-war or to the inhabitants? i replied with tears, i should be glad if you would sell me to the english from whom you took me, but if i must be sold to the french, i chose to be sold to the lowest on the river, or nearest inhabitant to the sea, about leagues from the mouth of the river; for i thought that if i were sold to the gentlemen aboard the man-of-war i should never return to the english. * * my master presently went on shore and a few days after all the indians went up the river. when we came to a house which i had spoken to my master about, he went on shore with me and tarried all night. the master of the house (louis d'amours) spoke kindly to me in indian, for i could not then speak one word of french. madam also looked pleasant on me and gave me some bread. the next day i was sent six leagues further up the river to another french house. my master and the friar tarried with monsieur de chauffours, the gentleman who had entertained us the night before. not long after father simon came and said, 'now you are one of us, for you are sold to that gentleman by whom you were entertained the other night.' "i replied, 'sold!--to a frenchman!' i could say no more, but went into the woods alone and wept till i could scarce see or stand. the word 'sold,' and that to a people of that persuasion which my dear mother so much detested and in her last words manifested so great fears of my falling into; the thought almost broke my heart. "when i had thus given vent to my grief i wiped my eyes, endeavoring to conceal its effects, but father simon perceiving my eyes swollen, rolled me aside bidding me not to grieve, for the gentleman he said to whom i was sold was of a good humor; that he had formerly bought two captives of the indians who both went home to boston. this in some measure revived me; but he added he did not suppose that i would ever incline to go to the english for the french way of worship was much to be preferred. he said also he would pass that way in about ten days, and if i did not like to live with the french better than the indians he would buy me again. "on the day following, father simon and my indian master went up the river six and thirty leagues to their chief village and i went down the river six leagues with two frenchmen to my new master. he kindly received me, and in a few days madam made me an osnaburg shirt and french cap and a coat out of one of my master's old coats. then i threw away my greasy blanket and indian flap; and i never more saw the old friar, the indian village or my indian master till about fourteen years after when i saw my old indian master at port royal, and again about twenty-four years since he came from st. john to fort george to see me where i made him very welcome. "my french master had a great trade with the indians, which suited me very well, i being thorough in the language of the tribes at cape sable[ ] and st. john. i had not lived long with this gentleman before he committed to me the keys of his store, etc., and my whole employment was trading and hunting, in which i acted faithfully for my master and never knowingly wronged him to the value of one farthing. they spoke to me so much in indian that it was some time before i was perfect in the french tongue." [ ] the micmacs, as distinguished from the st. john river indians or maliseets. it was in the summer of the year that john gyles was purchased of the indians by louis d'amours, having been nearly six years in captivity at the medoctec village. the strong prejudice against the french instilled into his mind by his mother, who was a devout puritan, was soon overcome by the kindness of marguerite d'amours. the goods needed by the sieur de chauffours for his trade with the indians were obtained from the man-of-war which came out annually from france, and gyles was sometimes sent with the frenchmen in his master's employ to the mouth of the river for supplies. on one of these trips, in the early spring time, the party in their frail canoes were caught in a violent storm as they were coming down the kennebeccasis--having crossed over thither from long reach by way of kingston creek, the usual route of travel. they were driven on long island opposite rothesay and remained there seven days without food, unable to return by reason of the northeast gale and unable to advance on account of the ice. at the expiration of that time the ice broke up and they were able to proceed, but in so exhausted a state that they could "scarce hear each other speak." after their arrival at st. john, two of the party very nearly died in consequence of eating too heartily, but gyles had had such ample experience of fasting in his indian life that he had learned wisdom, and by careful dieting suffered no evil consequences. in the month of october, , the quietude of the household at the jemseg was disturbed by the appearance of the massachusetts military expedition under hawthorne and church. "we heard of them," says gyles, "some time before they came up the river by the guard that governor villebon had ordered at the river's mouth. monsieur the gentleman whom i lived with was gone to france, and madam advised with me; she then desired me to nail a paper on the door of our house containing as follows:-- 'i intreat the general of the english not to burn my house or barn, nor destroy my cattle. i don't suppose that such an army comes up this river to destroy a few inhabitants but for the fort above us. i have shewn kindness to the english captives as we were capacitated and have bought two captives of the indians and sent them to boston, and have one now with us and he shall go also when a convenient opportunity presents and he desires it.' "this done, madam said to me, 'little english; we have shewn you kindness and now it lies in your power to serve or disserve us, as you know where our goods are hid in the woods and that monsieur is not at home. i could have sent you to the fort and put you under confinement, but my respect for you and assurance of your love to us have disposed me to confide in you, persuaded that you will not hurt us nor our affairs. and now if you will not run away to the english, who are coming up the river, but serve our interest i will acquaint monsieur of it at his return from france which will be very pleasing to him; and i now give my word that you shall have liberty to go to boston on the first opportunity, if you desire it, or that any other favor in my power shall not be deny'd you.' "i replied:--'madam, it is contrary to the nature of the english to requite evil for good. i shall endeavor to serve you and your interest. i shall not run to the english; but if i am taken by them shall willingly go with them and yet endeavor not to disserve you either in your persons or goods.' "this said we embarked and went in a large boat and canoe two or three miles up an eastern branch of the river that comes from a large pond [grand lake] and in the evening sent down four hands to make discovery; and while they were sitting in the house the english surrounded it and took one of the four; the other three made their escape in the dark through the english soldiers and came to us and gave a surprising account of affairs. "again madam said to me, 'little english, now you can go from us, but i hope you will remember your word!' i said, 'madam, be not concerned, for i will not leave you in this strait.' she said 'i know not what to do with my two poor little babes.' i said 'madam, the sooner we embark and go over the great pond the better.' accordingly we embarked and went over the pond. "the next day we spake with indians, who were in a canoe and gave us an account that chignecto-town was taken and burnt. soon after we heard the great guns at governor villebon's fort, which the english engaged several days, killed one man, and drew off and went down the river; for it was so late in the fall that had they tarried a few days longer in the river, they would have been frozen in for the winter. "hearing no report of the great guns for several days, i, with two others, went down to our house to make discovery, where we found our young lad who was taken by the english when they went up the river; for the general was so honorable that, on reading the note on our door, he ordered that the house and barn should not be burnt nor their cattle or other creatures killed, except one or two, and the poultry for their use, and at their return ordered the young lad to be put ashore. "finding things in this posture, we returned and gave madam an account. she acknowledged the many favors which the english had shown, with gratitude, and treated me with great civility. the next spring monsieur arrived from france in the man-of-war, who thanked me for my care of his affairs, and said that he would endeavor to fulfil what madam had promised me." at the expiration of another year, peace having been proclaimed, a sloop came to menagoueche with ransom for one michael coombs, and gyles at once reminded the sieur de chauffours of his promise. that gentleman advised him to remain, offering to do for him as if he were his own child, but gyles' heart was set upon going to boston, hoping to find some of his relations yet alive. his master then advised him to go up to the fort and take leave of the governor, which he did, and says the sieur de villebon spoke very kindly to him. some days after he took an affecting leave of madame d'amours and his master went down to the mouth of the river with him to see him on board. a few days afterwards he arrived safely in boston and was welcomed by his relatives as one risen from the dead. [illustration: signature of john gyles] after villebon's death his successor, de brouillan, dismantled fort nachouac and the fort at the mouth of the st. john river and transferred the garrisons to port royal. the french families living on the river soon followed, as they found themselves without protection and did not care to remain in a situation so exposed. the houses abandoned by these settlers had been built upon the interval lands on the east side of the river between the nashwaak and the jemseg. the soil was very fertile, entirely free from rock or stone and little incumbered by forest. but the situation had its disadvantages--as it has still. in the spring of the year the settlers had a most unhappy experience in consequence of an extraordinarily high freshet. this event increased brouillan's aversion to the st. john, and he writes: "the river is altogether impracticable for habitations, the little the people had there being destroyed this year by the freshets (inondations) which have carried off houses, cattle and grain. there is no probability that any families will desire to expose themselves hereafter to a thing so vexatious and so common on that river. monsieur de chauffours, who used to be the mainstay of the inhabitants and the savages, has been forced to abandon it and to withdraw to port royal, but he has no way to make a living there for his family, and he will unhappily be forced to seek some other retreat if the court pays no consideration to the services which he represents in his petition, and does not grant him some position in order to retain him in this colony." the next year france and england were again at war and in the course of the conflict the fortunes of the d'amours in acadia were involved in utter ruin. the gentle spirit of marguerite guyon d'amours did not survive the struggle, and with the close of the century she passed from the scene of her trials. louis d'amours, while serving his country in arms, was taken by the english, and for more than two years remained a prisoner in boston. his brother, the sieur de clignancourt, served in various expeditions against the new englanders and for several years is heard of in connection with military affairs. eventually most of the surviving members of the d'amours family removed from acadia leaving behind them no abiding record of their sojourn on the st. john river. two of the daughters of louis d'amours were married at port royal while very young. perhaps they possessed their mother's winsome manners, perhaps, also the scarcity of marriageable girls in acadia may have had something to do with the matter; at any rate charlotte d'amours was but seventeen years of age when she married the young baron, anselm de st. castin. their wedding took place at port royal in october, , just two months after young st. castin had greatly distinguished himself in the heroic and successful defense of port royal against an expedition from new england.[ ] the event no doubt caused a flutter of excitement in the then limited society of port royal. the officiating priest was father antoine gaulin, of the seminary of quebec, at which institution the young baron had finished his studies only three years before. among the witnesses of the marriage were the chevalier de subercase, governor of acadia; bonaventure, who had for some years rendered signal service as commander of the "envieux" and other warships; mon. de la boularderie, a french officer who had been wounded in the recent siege, and the bride's farther, louis d'amours--who, signs his name d'amour d'echofour. [ ] the mortification of the bostonians at the failure of this expedition was extreme. so confident of success were they that preparations were made for a public rejoicing on the anticipated capture of port royal. the young baron st. castin was wounded in the defence of port royal. his conduct in leading the defenders on several critical occasions was characterized by such dash and intrepidity that governor subercase in describing the siege wrote to the french minister at versailles that if it had not been for the presence of the baron st. castin he knew not what would have been the result. see murdoch's hist. nova scotia, vol. i., p. . a few years later the marquis de vaudreuil entrusted to st. castin the command of acadia. after the treaty of utrecht he retired to his ancestral residence on the banks of the penobscot, where he lived on amicable terms with the english and kept the penobscot indians from making encroachments on their neighbors. his sister, ursule de st. castin, married his wife's brother, a son of louis d'amours, a circumstance of interest not only as being a double marriage between the families of st. castin and d'amours, but also from the fact that the familiar titles of the d'amours family seem to have been retained in this, the oldest branch of their family. in proof of this fact, the distinguished acadian genealogist, placid p. gaudet, has shown that among the acadians residing at the islands of st. pierre and miquelon in (according to the census of that year), were ursule de st. castin, widow of the only son of louis d'amours, then year of age, who resided with her son joseph d'amours, dechauffour, and his family. joseph d'amours was at that time years of age, and his wife, genevieve roy, years of age. they had seven children and the oldest sons were joseph d'amours, aged years; paul d'amours de freneuse, aged years, and louis d'amours de clignancourt, aged years. as the father himself retained the title of de chauffours it is evident that on his decease it would fall to his oldest son, joseph. marie d'amours, sister of the young baroness de st. castin, married pierre de morpain, the commander of a privateer of st. domingo. it chanced that he had just brought a ship load of provisions to port royal when it was attacked in , and he was able to render good service in its defence. two years afterwards he was again at port royal and in the course of a ten days' cruise took nine prizes and destroyed four more vessels. being attacked by a coast-guard ship of boston a furious engagement ensued in which the english captain was killed with one hundred of his men and his vessel made a prize and taken to port royal. the commander, subercase, highly commended morpain's bravery and persuaded him to remain at port royal where, on august , , he married marie d'amours de chauffours. louis d'amours, sieur de chauffours, returned to port royal in after a two years captivity at boston. on the th january, , only a few weeks after the marriage of his daughter to st. castin, he took to himself a wife in the person of anne comeau. the marriage was witnessed by governor subercase and other officials at port royal, also by his daughter charlotte and her husband, the baron de st. castin, and by the widow of his brother the sieur de freneuse. it seems probable that his health had suffered through his long imprisonment, for very shortly after his second marriage he was stricken with an illness which proved fatal. the recollet missionary, justinien durad, records in his parish register the burial in the cemetery of st. jean baptiste at port royal on may , , of "louis d'amour d'echauffour, aged not far from sixty years [should be years], after an illness of three months, during which he received the sacraments with great edification." and this brings us to the last incident in the romantic story of the brothers d'amours. chapter viii. the old medoctec fort. twelve miles below the town of woodstock there enters the river st. john, from the westward, a good sized tributary known as eel river. it is a variable stream, flowing in the upper reaches with feeble current, over sandy shallows, with here and there deep pools, and at certain seasons almost lake-like expansions over adjoining swamps, but in the last twelve miles of its course it is transformed into a turbulent stream, broken by rapids and falls to such an extent that only at the freshet season is it possible to descend in canoes. the indian name of eel river is "madawamkeetook," signifying "rocky at its mouth." [illustration: plan of old medoctec village] the medoctec fort stood on the west bank of the st. john four miles above the mouth of eel river. it guarded the eastern extremity of the famous portage, five miles in length, by which canoes were carried in order to avoid the rapids that obstruct the lower part of eel river. the rivers were nature's highway for the aboriginal inhabitants and a glance at the map will show that madawamkeetook, or eel river, formed a very important link in the chain of communication with the western portion of ancient acadie by means of the inland waters. in early days the three principal villages of the maliseets were medoctec on the st. john, panagamsde on the penobscot and narantsouak on the kennebec. in travelling from medoctec to the westward the indians passed from the lakes at the head of eel river, by a short portage, to the chain of lakes at the head of the st. croix from which there was communication by another short portage with the mattawamkeag, an eastern branch of the penobscot. in the course of the stirring events of the war-period in acadia the indian braves and their french allies made constant use of this route, and the medoctec village became a natural rendezvous whenever anything of a warlike nature was afoot on the st. john. but medoctec possessed many local advantages; the hunting in the vicinity was excellent, the rivers abounded in salmon, sturgeon, bass, trout and other fish, and the intervals were admirably adapted to the growth of indian corn--which seems to have been raised there from time immemorial. the reader by examining the accompanying plan will have a better idea of the situation of the old fort. the site of this ancient maliseet town is a fine plateau extending back from the river about fifty rods, then descending to a lower interval, twenty rods wide, and again rising quite abruptly sixty or seventy feet to the upland. the spring freshet usually covers the lower interval and the elevated plateau then becomes an island. the spot is an exceedingly interesting one, but, unfortunately for the investigator, the soil has been so well cultivated by the hands of thrifty farmers that little remains to indicate the outlines of the old fortifications. it is impossible to determine with absolute certainty the position of the stockade, or of the large wigwam, or council chamber, and other features commonly found in indian towns of that period. the only place where the old breast-work is visible is along the south and east sides of the burial ground, where it is about two feet high. the burial ground has never been disturbed with the plough, the owners of the property having shown a proper regard for the spot as the resting place of the dead. it is, however, so thickly overgrown with hawthorn as to be a perfect jungle difficult to penetrate. many holes have been dug there by relic hunters and seekers of buried treasure. at the spot marked a* on the plan, between the grave-yard and the river, there is a mass of ashes and cinders with numberless bones scattered about. this is believed to be the site of the old council fire. here the visitor will find himself in touch with the events of savage life of centuries ago. here it was governor villebon harangued his dusky allies; here the horrible dog feast was held and the hatchet brandished by the warriors on the eve of their departure to deluge with blood the homes of new england; here at the stake the luckless captive yielded up his life and chanted his death-song; here the sieur de clignancourt bargained with the indians, receiving their furs and peltry and giving in exchange french goods and trinkets, rum and brandy; here good father simon taught the savages the elements of the christian faith and tamed as best he could the fierceness of their manners; here too when weary of fighting the hatchet was buried and the council fire glowed its brightest as the chiefs smoked their calumet of peace. some have supposed the old medoctec fort to have been quite an elaborate structure, with bastions, etc., but it was more probably only a rude indian fortification with ditch and parapet surmounted by a stockade, within which was a strongly built cabin, in size about thirty by forty feet. parkman in his "jesuits in north america," gives a good description of similar forts built by the hurons and other tribes of canada. the labor originally involved in the erection of the palisade must have been very great, and nothing but stern necessity is likely to have driven so naturally improvident a people to undertake it. the stout stakes were cut, pointed and firmly planted with no better implement than the stone axe of prehistoric times. in the lower right hand corner of the plan will be found the spring referred to in the opening chapter[ ] as the scene of the ludicrous mohawk scare. its distance from the old fort is about half a mile, and the situation and surroundings correspond so exactly with gyles' description that there is not the slightest doubt as to its identity. the water that flows from it never fails and is very clear and cool. [ ] see page . at the back of the lower interval is a curious gully, something like a broad natural roadway, which affords an easy ascent to the upland. this no doubt was the commencement of the famous portage by which bands of savages in ancient days took their way westward to devastate the settlements of eastern new england. the small stream which enters the st. john a little above the old village site is known as hay's creek, but in some of the early maps and land grants is called "meductic river." about a mile from its mouth there is a very beautiful cascade; the volume of water is not large but the height of the fall, feet perpendicular, is remarkable, surpassing by at least ten feet the grand falls of the river st. john. our knowledge of the village medoctec, and the ways of its people two centuries ago, is derived mainly from the narrative of john gyles, the english lad who was captured at pemaquid in and brought by his indian master to the river st. john. at the time of his capture gyles was a boy of about twelve years of age. he seems to have met with kindly treatment from his master though not from all the indians. his first rude experience was at penobscot fort where upon the arrival of the captives, some fifty in number, the squaws got together in a circle dancing and yelling, as was their custom on such occasions. gyles says, "an old grimace squaw took me by the hand and leading me into the ring, some seized me by my hair and others by my feet, like so many furies; but, my master laying down a pledge, they released me. a captive among the indians is exposed to all manner of abuses and to the extremest tortures, unless their master, or some of their master's relatives lay down a ransom, such as a bag of corn, a blanket, or the like, which redeems them from their cruelty for that dance." after a long and wearisome journey the little captive at length neared his destination, the canoes were paddling down the madawamkeetook (or eel) river. when they reached the rapids they landed, and we shall let gyles tell in his own words the story of the last stage of his journey and of his reception at medoctec. he says: "we carried over a long carrying place to medoctock fort, which stands on a bank of st. john's river. my indian master went before and left me with an old indian and three squaws. the old man often said (which was all the english he could speak), 'by and by come to a great town and fort.' so i comforted myself in thinking how finely i should be refreshed when i came to this great town. "after some miles travel we came in sight of a large corn-field and soon after of the fort, to my great surprise; for two or three squaws met us, took off my pack, and led me to a large hut or wigwam, where thirty or forty indians were dancing and yelling round five or six poor captives. * * i was whirled in among them and we looked at each other with a sorrowful countenance; and presently one of them was seized by each hand and foot by four indians, who swung him up and let his back with force fall on the hard ground, till they had danced (as they call it) round the whole wigwam, which was thirty or forty feet in length. * * "the indians looked on me with a fierce countenance, as much as to say it will be your turn next. they champed cornstalks, which they threw into my hat as i held it in my hand. i smiled on them though my heart ached. i looked on one and another, but could not perceive that any eye pitied me. presently came a squaw and a little girl and laid down a bag of corn in the ring. the little girl took me by the hand, making signs for me to come out of the circle with them. not knowing their custom, i supposed they designed to kill me and refused to go. then a grave indian came and gave me a pipe and said in english, 'smoke it,' then he took me by the hand and led me out. my heart ached, thinking myself near my end. but he carried me to a french hut about a mile from the indian fort. the frenchman was not at home, but his wife, who was a squaw, had some discourse with my indian friend, which i did not understand. we tarried there about two hours, then returned to the indian village, where they gave me some victuals. not long after i saw one of my fellow-captives who gave me a melancholy account of their sufferings after i left them. "after some weeks had passed," gyles continues, "we left this village and went up st. john's river about ten miles to a branch called medockscenecasis, where there was one wigwam. at our arrival an old squaw saluted me with a yell, taking me by the hair and one hand, but i was so rude as to break her hold and free myself. she gave me a filthy grin, and the indians set up a laugh and so it passed over. here we lived on fish, wild grapes, roots, etc., which was hard living for me." where the one wigwam stood in , there stands today a town of , people. the stream which gyles calls medockscenecasis is the meduxnakik and the town is woodstock. on the islands and intervals there, wild grapes and lily roots, butter-nuts and cherries are still to be found, and many generations of boys have wandered with light hearts in quest of them without a thought of the first of white boys, who in loneliness and friendlessness trod those intervals more than two hundred years ago. it seems to have been the custom of the indians at the beginning of the winter to break up into small parties for the purpose of hunting, and gyles' description of his first winter's experience will serve to illustrate the hardships commonly endured by the savages. "when the winter came on," he says, "we went up the river, till the ice came down running thick in the river, when, according to the indian custom, we laid up our canoes till spring. then we traveled, sometimes on the ice and sometimes on land, till we came to a river that was open but not fordable, where we made a raft and passed over, bag and baggage. i met with no abuse from them in this winter's hunting, though i was put to great hardships in carrying burdens and for want of food. but they underwent the same difficulty, and would often encourage me by saying in broken english, 'by and by great deal moose!' yet they could not answer any question i asked them; and knowing very little of their customs and ways of life, i thought it tedious to be constantly moving from place to place, yet it might be in some respects an advantage, for it ran still in my mind that we were traveling to some settlement; and when my burden was over heavy, and the indians left me behind, and the still evening came on, i fancied i could see thro' the bushes and hear the people of some great town; which hope might be some support to me in the day, though i found not the town at night. "thus we were hunting three hundred miles from the sea and knew no man within fifty or sixty miles of us. we were eight or ten in number, and had but two guns on which we wholly depended for food. if any disaster had happened we must all have perished. sometimes we had no manner of sustenance for three or four days; but god wonderfully provides for all creatures. * * * "we moved still farther up the country after the moose when our store gave out; so that by the spring we had got to the northward of the lady mountains [near the st. lawrence]. when the spring came and the rivers broke up we moved back to the head of st. john's river and there made canoes of moose hides, sewing three or four together and pitching the seams with balsam mixed with charcoal. then we went down the river to a place called madawescok. there an old man lived and kept a sort of a trading house, where we tarried several days; then we went further down the river till we came to the greatest falls in these parts, called checanekepeag[ ], where we carried a little way over land, and putting off our canoes we went down stream still, and as we passed the mouths of any large branches we saw indians, but when any dance was proposed i was bought off. [ ] the grand falls of the st. john river, which the indians still call chik-seen-eag-i-beg, meaning "a destroying giant." "at length we arrived at the place where we left our canoes in the fall and, putting our baggage into them, went down to the fort. there we planted corn, and after planting went a fishing and to look for and dig roots till the corn was fit to weed. after weeding we took a second tour on foot on the same errand, then returned to hill up our corn. after hilling we went some distance from the fort and field up the river to take salmon and other fish, which we dried for food, where we continued till the corn was filled with milk; some of it we dried then, the other as it ripened." the statement has been made by the author in the opening chapter that exaggerated ideas have prevailed concerning the number of indians who formerly inhabited this country. the natives of acadia were not a prolific race and the life they led was so full of danger and exposure, particularly in the winter season, as not to be conducive to longevity. an instance of the dangers to which the indians were exposed in their winter hunting is related by gyles which very nearly proved fatal to him. "one winter," he says, "as we were moving from place to place our hunters killed some moose. one lying some miles from our wigwams, a young indian and myself were ordered to fetch part of it. we set out in the morning when the weather was promising, but it proved a very cold cloudy day. "it was late in the evening before we arrived at the place where the moose lay, so that we had no time to provide materials for a fire or shelter. at the same time came on a storm of snow very thick which continued until the next morning. we made a small fire with what little rubbish we could find around us. the fire with the warmth of our bodies melted the snow upon us as fast as it fell and so our clothes were filled with water. however, early in the morning we took our loads of moose flesh, and set out to return to our wigwams. we had not travelled far before my moose-skin coat (which was the only garment i had on my back, and the hair chiefly worn off) was frozen stiff round my knees, like a hoop, as were my snow-shoes and shoe clouts to my feet. thus i marched the whole day without fire or food. at first i was in great pain, then my flesh became numb, and at times i felt extremely sick and thought i could not travel one foot farther; but i wonderfully revived again. after long travelling i felt very drowsy, and had thoughts of sitting down, which had i done, without doubt i had fallen on my final sleep. my indian companion, being better clothed, had left me long before. again my spirits revived as much as if i had received the richest cordial. "some hours after sunset i reached the wigwam, and crawling in with my snow-shoes on, the indians cried out, 'the captive is frozen to death!' they took off my pack and the place where that lay against my back was the only one that was not frozen. they cut off my snow-shoes and stripped off the clouts from my feet, which were as void of feeling as any frozen flesh could be. "i had not sat long by the fire before the blood began to circulate and my feet to my ankles turned black and swelled with bloody blisters and were inexpressibly painful. the indians said one to another: 'his feet will rot, and he will die;' yet i slept well at night. soon after the skin came off my feet from my ankles whole, like a shoe, leaving my toes without a nail and the ends of my great toe bones bare.... the indians gave me rags to bind up my feet and advised me to apply fir balsam, but withal added that they believed it was not worth while to use means for i should certainly die. but by the use of my elbows and a stick in each hand i shoved myself along as i sat upon the ground over the snow from one tree to another till i got some balsam. this i burned in a clam shell till it was of a consistence like salve, which i applied to my feet and ankles and, by the divine blessing, within a week i could go about upon my heels with my staff; and through god's goodness we had provisions enough, so that we did not remove under ten or fifteen days. then the indians made two little hoops, something in the form of a snow-shoe, and sewing them to my feet i was able to follow them in their tracks on my heels from place to place, though sometimes half leg deep in snow and water, which gave me the most acute pain imaginable; but i must walk or die. yet within a year my feet were entirely well, and the nails came on my great toes so that a very critical eye could scarcely perceive any part missing, or that they had been frozen at all." we turn now to the consideration of the state of affairs on the st. john after the removal of the seat of government from fort nachouac to menagoueche and subsequently to port royal. after the retirement of the french from the river, at the close of the seventeenth century, our knowledge of that region for the next thirty years is small. we know, however, that the maliseets continued hostile to the english. war parties from the st. john united with the neighboring tribes, roaming over the country like hungry wolves, prowling around the towns and settlements of new england, carrying terror and destruction wherever they went. the resentment inspired by their deeds was such that the legislatures of massachusetts and new hampshire offered a bounty of £ for the scalp of every adult male indian. for sixty years indian wars followed in rapid succession. they are known in history as king william's war, queen anne's war, lovewell's or dummer's war and king george's war. in nearly every instance the indian raids were instigated or encouraged by their french allies, who feared that otherwise the english would win them and thereby gain the country. civil and ecclesiastical authority in france were at this time very closely united. the missionaries of new france were appointed and removed by the authorities at quebec and received an annual stipend from the crown, and however diligent the missionary might be in his calling, or however pure his life, he was liable to be removed unless he used his influence to keep the savages in a state of hostility to the english. the maliseet villages on the st. john, the penobscot and the kennebec rivers were regarded as buttresses against english encroachments in the direction of canada, and the authorities at quebec relied much upon the influence of the missionaries to keep the savages loyal to france. the first missionary at the medoctec village, of whom we have any accurate information, was father simon, who has already been frequently mentioned in the extracts from john gyles' narrative. he belonged to the order of the recollets, founded early in the th century by st. francis of assissi. the missionaries of that order began their labors on the st. john as early as ; they came to acadia from aquitane. father simon was a man of activity and enterprise as well as of religious zeal. he did all that lay in his power to promote the ascendency of his country-men in the land they loved to call "new france," but his influence with the indians was always exercised on the side of humanity. on this point gyles' testimony is conclusive. he says: "the priest of this river was of the order of st. francis, a gentleman of a humane generous disposition. in his sermons he most severely reprehended the indians for their barbarities to captives. he would often tell them that excepting their errors in religion the english were a better people than themselves." we have no exact information as to the number of years father simon labored at medoctec, but he died near the close of the century. governor villebon in december, , wrote, "father simon is sick at jemseg," and as his name does not again appear in the annals of that time it is probable that his sickness proved mortal. he was succeeded in his mission by one of the jesuit fathers, joseph aubery, who came to medoctec about , remaining there seven years. he then took charge of the abenaki mission of st. francis, where he continued for years and died at the age of . chateaubriand drew from his character and career materials for one of the characters in his well known romance "atala." the next missionary on the river st. john was jean baptiste loyard, who was born at pau in france in , and came out to canada in . he remained almost constantly at his post, except that in the year he went to france to obtain aid for his mission. his position was a difficult one, for the letters of the marquis de vaudreuil show that in addition to his spiritual functions he was regarded as the political agent of the french on the st. john. by the treaty of utrecht, in the days of queen anne (a. d. ), "all nova scotia, or acadia, comprehended within its ancient boundaries," was ceded to the queen of great britain. but the question immediately arose, what were the ancient boundaries? the british were disposed to claim, as indeed the french had formerly done, that acadia included the territory north of the bay of fundy as far west as the kennebec river; but the french would not now admit that it included anything more than the peninsula of nova scotia. in , governor caulfield endeavored to have a good understanding with loyard, assuring him that he would not be molested, and begging him to say to the indians of his mission that they would receive good treatment at the hands of the english and that a vessel full of everything they needed would be sent up the river to them. but other and more potent influences were at work. on june , , the french minister wrote the marquis de vaudreuil that the king, in order to cement more firmly the alliance with the savages of acadia, had granted the sum of , livres, agreeably to the proposal of the intendant begon, to be expended in building a church for the indians on the river st. john, and another for those on the kennebec. the indians were wonderfully pleased and offered to furnish a quantity of beaver as their contribution towards the erection of the churches. in the years that followed the king made two additional grants of , livres each, and in the marquis de vaudreuil had the satisfaction of reporting that the churches were finished; that they were well built and would prove a great inducement to the savages to be loyal to france. the probable site of the indian chapel on the banks of the st. john is shown in the plan of the medoctec fort and village near the north west corner of the burial ground. a small stone tablet was discovered here by mr. a. r. hay, of lower woodstock, in june, . the tablet is of black slate, similar to that found in the vicinity, and is in length fourteen inches by seven in width and about an inch in thickness. it was found quite near the surface, just as it might naturally have fallen amid the ruins of an old building, covered merely by the fallen leaves; the inscription is in an excellent state of preservation and, without abbreviation, reads as follows: [illustration: slate-stone tablet. a relic of the indian chapel of saint jean baptiste. found at medoctec, june, .] deo optimo maximo in honorem divi ioannis baptistae hoc templum posuerunt anno domin (mdccxvii). malecitae missionis procurator ioanne loyard societatis iesu sacerdote. the translation reads:--"to god, most excellent, most high, in honor of saint john baptist, the maliseets erected this church a. d. , while jean loyard, a priest of the society of jesus, was superintendent of the mission." the inscription is clearly cut, but not with sufficient skill to suggest the hand of a practised stone engraver. it was in all probability the hand of loyard himself that executed it. the name of danielou, his successor, faintly scratched in the lower left-hand corner, is evidently of later date; but its presence there is of historic interest. the indian church of st. john baptist at medoctec, erected in , was the first on the river st. john--probably the first in new brunswick. it received among other royal gifts a small bell which now hangs in the belfry of the indian chapel at central kingsclear, a few miles above fredericton. the church seems to have been such as would impress by its beauty and adornments the little flock over which loyard exercised his kindly ministry. it is mentioned by one of the jesuit fathers as a beautiful church (belle eglise), suitably adorned and furnished abundantly with holy vessels and ornaments of sufficient richness. the chapel stood for fifty years and its clear toned bell rang out the call to prayer in the depths of the forest; but by and by priest and people passed away till, in , the missionary bailly records in his register that the indians having abandoned the medoctec village he had caused the ornaments and furnishings of the chapel, together with the bell, to be transported to aukpaque, and had caused the chapel itself to be demolished since it served merely as a refuge for travellers and was put to the most profane uses. the marquis de vaudreuil in wrote to the english authorities at port royal protesting against english vessels entering the river st. john, which he claimed to be entirely within the french dominion. he encouraged the french to withdraw from the peninsula of nova scotia, promising them lands on the st. john river on application to the missionary loyard, who was empowered to grant them and in the course of time a number of families resorted thither. when loyard went to france in he represented to the home government that the english were making encroachments on the "rivers of the savages"--meaning the st. john, penobscot and kennebec. "why is this?" he asks, "if not for the purpose of continually advancing on canada?" he points out that france has not cared for the savages except when she has had need of them. the english will not fail to remind them of this fact, and will perhaps by presents more valuable than the missionaries can offer soon succeed in winning them. loyard recommends the court to increase the annual gratuity and to provide for each village a royal medal to serve as a reminder of the king's favor and protection. his advice seems to have been followed, and for some years an annual appropriation of , livres was made to provide presents for the savages, the distribution being left to the missionaries. [illustration: bell of old indian chapel. (a. d. .)] port royal, under its new name of annapolis, was now become the headquarters of british authority and efforts were made to establish friendly relations with the indians of the st. john river. in july, , nine chiefs were brought over to annapolis in a vessel sent by governor philipps for the purpose; they were entertained and addressed and presents were made to them and they went home apparently well pleased. however the english governor did not count much upon their fidelity. he states that he was beset with indian delegations from various quarters; that he received them all and never dismissed them without presents, which they always looked for and for which he was out of pocket about a hundred and fifty pounds; he adds, "but i am convinced that a hundred thousand will not buy them from the french interest while the priests are among them." governor philipps' lack of confidence in indian promises of friendship and alliance was soon justified, for in lovewell's war, which broke out in and lasted three years, the indians surprized and captured a large number of trading vessels in the bay of fundy and along the coast, and a party of maliseets and micmacs attacked the fort at annapolis, killing two of the garrison and dangerously wounding an officer and three men. in retaliation for the loss of sergt mcneal, who was shot and scalped, the english shot and scalped an indian prisoner on the spot where mcneal had fallen, an action which, however great the provocation, is to be lamented as unworthy of a christian people. lovewell's war was terminated by a notable treaty made at boston in with four eminent sagamores representing the tribes of kennebec, penobscot, st. john and cape sable; francois xavier appearing on behalf of the maliseets of the st. john. the conference lasted over a month, for the indians were very deliberate in their negotiations and too well satisfied with their entertainment to be in a hurry. the treaty was solemnly ratified at falmouth in the presence of the lieutenant-governors of massachusetts, new hampshire and nova scotia, and about forty chiefs. the formal assent of the st. john indians does not appear to have been given until may, , when three or four sachems, accompanied by twenty-six warriors, came from medoctec to annapolis royal to ratify the peace and make submission to the british government. governor armstrong with the advice of his officers made them presents, entertained them several days and sent them away well satisfied. the ministry of loyard was now drawing to a close. he seems to have been a man of talents and rare virtues, esteemed and beloved by both french and indians, and in his death universally lamented. he devoted nearly twenty-four of the best years of his life to the conversion of the indians, and when summoned to quebec for the benefit of his health, which had become impared by toil and exposure, he had hardly recovered from the fatigue of the journey when he requested to be allowed to return to his mission, where his presence was needed. it was while in the active discharge of his duty among the sick that he contracted the disease of which he died in the midst of his people, who were well nigh inconsolable for their loss. the obituary letter announcing his death to the other jesuit missionaries contains a glowing eulogy of the man and his work. his disposition had nothing of sternness, yet he was equally beloved and revered by his flock; to untiring zeal he joined exemplary modesty, sweetness of disposition, never failing charity and an evenness of temper which made him superior to all annoyances; busy as he was he had the art of economising the moments, and he gave all the prescribed time to his own spiritual exercises; over his flock he watched incessantly as a good shepherd with the happy consolation of gathering abundant fruit of his care and toil; he was fitted for everything and ready for everything, and his superiors could dispose of him as they would. the date of his death, june , , suggests some remarkable coincidences. the th of june is st. john baptist's day; loyard's name was jean baptiste; the church he built was called st. jean baptiste; it was the first church on the banks of a river named in honor of st. jean baptiste (because discovered on th june, , by champlain); and it was fitting that the missionary who designed it, who watched over its construction and who probably was laid to rest beneath its shade, should pass from the scene of his labors on the day that honors the memory of st. jean baptiste. by a pure coincidence the author finds himself penning these words on st. john baptist's day, . [illustration: jean loyard fac-simile, a. d. .] loyard's successor was jean pierre danielou, whose presence at medoctec is indicated by the occurrence of his name on the memorial tablet. after his arrival at quebec in he was employed for some years as a teacher, but took holy orders about . danielou had been but a short time in charge of his mission when he received a sharply worded letter from the governor of nova scotia, ordering the acadians settled on the river st. john to repair to the port of annapolis royal and take the oath of allegiance. the governor says that their settling on the river without leave was an act of great presumption. a number of the settlers accordingly presented themselves at annapolis, where they took the required oaths and agreed to take out grants. the little french colony were settled at or near st. anns (now fredericton) for a census made in , for the government of france, gives the number of acadians on the river as , divided into twenty families, and fifteen of these families, numbering eighty-two persons, were living below the village of ecoupay (or aukpaque). two families lived at freneuse and three at the mouth of the river. the story of the old medoctec village in later times will be told incidentally in the chapters that are to follow. chapter ix. incidents in king georges war. after a long interval of peace from the time of the treaty of utrecht in , war was declared between france and england in . the indians of the st. john river, who had been fairly quiet for some years, took the warpath with great alacrity. the war that ensued is known as "king george's," or the "five years" war. at its commencement the maliseets played rather a sharp trick upon the english which paul mascarene and shirley, the governor of massachusetts, remembered against them when peace was proclaimed five years later. on that occasion count de la galissonniere wrote to mascarene to inquire if the maliseets were included in the peace, "in which case," he says, "i entreat you to have the goodness to induce mr. shirley to allow them to settle again in their villages, and to leave their missionaries undisturbed as they were before the war." the french governor suggested that a reply might be sent through the missionary by whom he had sent his own letter. both mascarene and shirley replied at some length to the letter of de la galissonniere. they stated that when a renewal of the war with france was daily expected, a deputation of the st. john river indians came to annapolis professedly to make an agreement to remain on friendly terms with the english in the event of war with france. they were well received in consequence. but they had come in reality as spies, and three weeks afterwards returned with others of their tribe, the missionary le loutre at their head, surprised and killed as many of the english as they caught outside the fort, destroyed their cattle, burnt their houses and continued their acts of hostility against the garrison till the arrival of troops from new england to check them. "for this perfidious behaviour," shirley says, "i caused war to be declared in his majesty's name against these indians in november, , and so far as it depends upon me, they shall not be admitted to terms of peace till they have made a proper submission for their treachery." during king george's war the maliseet warriors did not, as in former indian wars, assemble at medoctec and turn their faces westward to devastate the settlements of new england, the scene of hostilities was now transferred to the eastward, annapolis royal, beausejour and louisbourg became the scene of hostilities and aukpaque, not medoctec, the place of rendezvous. immediately after the declaration of war paul mascarene set to work to repair the defences of annapolis royal. the french inhabitants at first showed every readiness to assist him, but they retired to their habitations when the indians, to the number of about three hundred fighting men, appeared before the fort. among the leaders of the savages was young alexander le borgne de bellisle, who himself had indian blood in his veins, being the son of anastasie de st. castin. the indians failed in their attack and retired to await the arrival of troops from louisbourg under du vivier. some weeks later the united forces again advanced on annapolis but, after a siege lasting from the end of august to about the th of september, they were obliged to retire without accomplishing anything. mascarene conducted the defence with prudence and energy but honestly admits, in his letter to governor shirley, that it was largely "to the timely succours sent from the governor of massachusetts and to our french inhabitants refusing to take up arms against us, we owe our preservation." the people of new england cherished no good will toward the savages of acadia. the horrors of indian warfare in the past were yet fresh in their memories, and stern measures were resolved upon. governor shirley, with the advice of his council, offered premiums for their scalps, £ currency for that of an adult male indian, £ for that of a woman or child, and for a captive £ higher than for a scalp. after the failure of the french attack on annapolis royal, shirley planned an expedition against louisbourg, "the dunkirk of america." this was indeed a formidable undertaking, for the french had spent twenty-five years of time and about six millions and a half of dollars in building, arming and adorning that city. the walls of its defences were formed of bricks brought from france and they mounted two hundred and six pieces of cannon. the leader of the expedition was william pepperell, a native of kittery, maine, a colonel of militia and a merchant who employed hundreds of men in lumbering and fishing. his troops comprised a motley collection of new englanders--fishermen and farmers, sawyers and loggers, many of them taken from his own vessels, mills and forests. before such men, aided by the english navy under commodore warren, to the world's amazement, louisbourg fell. the achievement is, perhaps, the most memorable in our colonial annals, but a description of the siege cannot be here attempted. after the surrender of louisbourg a banquet was prepared by pepperell for his officers, and mr. moody of new york, mrs. pepperell's uncle, was called upon to ask a blessing at the feast. the old parson was apt to be prolix on public occasions, and his temper being rather irritable, none dared to suggest that brevity would be acceptable. the company were therefore highly gratified by his saying grace as follows: "good lord, we have so many things to thank thee for that time will be infinitely too short to do it. we must therefore leave it for the work of eternity. bless our food and fellowship upon this joyful occasion, for the sake of christ our lord. amen." the capture of louisbourg greatly relieved the situation at annapolis, and probably saved acadia to the english. it acted as a damper on the ardor of the indians of the st. john river, who, under marin, a french officer from quebec, had taken the warpath. they were encouraged in their hostile attitude by their missionary germain, lately come to aukpaque as danielou's[ ] successor. [ ] jean pierre danielou died at quebec, may , . his successor, father charles germain, came to canada in and a few years later, probably in , was sent to the st. john river. while the stirring events just mentioned were transpiring at louisbourg, governor mascarene was doing his best to place annapolis royal in a proper state of defence and the chief engineer, john henry bastide, was busily engaged in strengthening the fort. early in the summer of the sieur marin appeared before the town with a party of six hundred french and indians--the latter including many from the river st. john and some of the hurons from canada. they captured two boston schooners, one of which was named the "montague." her captain, william pote, of falmouth (now portland) maine, was taken to quebec by the huron indians, via the st. john river. he remained in captivity three years. he contrived to keep a journal describing his capture and subsequent adventures; this was concealed by one of the female prisoners who restored it to captain pote after he was released. the journal had a remarkable experience; it passed through many hands, was discovered at geneva in switzerland about a dozen years ago by bishop john f. hurst, and has since been printed in a sumptuous volume by dodd, mead & co., of new york. thus after a century and a half of obscurity this remarkable old document has at length seen the light. we learn from its pages that captain pote was taken by land to chignecto at the head of the bay of fundy, where he found the captured schooner "montague" already arrived. the indians called a council to decide whether it was better to go to the river st. john in the schooner or by land, but finally thought it better to go by land. accordingly on the th june, the "montague" sailed with several prisoners, including two of pote's men and the master of the other schooner taken at annapolis and one of his men. pote entreated the indians to be allowed to go in the schooner, but could not prevail. he was taken by way of shepody bay up the river petitcodiac in a small schooner belonging to one of the "neutral french." the next day's journey brought them to the carrying place between the petitcodiac and the canaan river, which they crossed and encamped. the events of the day following--sunday, june --are thus recorded in pote's journal: "this day in ye morning we had intelligence that there was a priest from ye river of saint johns expected to arrive at this place in a few minutes, ye indians made great preparation for his reception and at his arrival shewed many symptoms of their great respect. ye priest was conducted to ye captain's camp, where after having passed many compliments, the priest asked ye capt. of ye indians who i was, and when he understood i was a prisoner, he asked me if i could speak french. i told him a little, and asked him concerning one jonathan a soldier that was a passenger on board of our schooner when we was taken, and was then at ye river of saint johns. ye priest gave me an account of him, and told me to content myself in ye condition that i was then in, for i was in ye hands of a christian nation and it might prove very beneficial both to my body and soul. i was obliged to concur with his sentiments for fear of displeasing my masters. ye indians built him a table against a large tree, where he said mass, and sung (louange au bon dieu pour leur conservation jusqu'au present) after they had concluded their mass, &c., the priest gave them permission to commence their making connews and took his leave of us. this day we was imployed in making connews of elm and ash bark." the priest here mentioned was no doubt the jesuit missionary, charles germain, for the governor general of canada, the marquis beauharnois, in his letter to the french minister, dated at quebec september of this year, writes: "m. germain, missionary on the lower part of the river st. john, arrived here yesterday with the chief and indians of his mission, the most of whom served in mr. marin's party." the indians with capt. pote made seven canoes, and in these they proceeded down the canaan river to washademoak lake, thence up the st. john river to aukpaque. on the way several rather curious incidents occurred. for example, on one occasion they caught some small fish, which pote attempted to clean, but the indians snatched them from him and boiled them "slime and blood and all together." "this," said pote, "put me in mind of ye old proverb, god sent meat and ye d----l cooks." on another occasion, he says, "we incamped by ye side of ye river and we had much difficulty to kindle a fire by reason it rained exceeding fast, and wet our fire works; we was obliged to turn our connews bottom up and lay under them; at this time it thundered exceedingly, and ye indians asked me if there was not people in my country sometimes distroyed by ye thunder and lightning, yet i told them i had known several instances of that nature, they told me yt never any thing hapned to ye indians of harm neither by thunder nor lightning, and they said it was a judgment on ye english and french, for incroaching on their libertys in america." on their way up the river st. john mr. pote and his companions passed several french houses, and at some of these they stopped for provisions, but found the people so "exceeding poor" they could not supply any. when they arrived at aukpaque, on the evening of the th july, they found the schooner montague had arrived some days before with the other prisoners. pote and his friends met with an unexpectedly warm reception at the indian village, which we shall allow him to relate in his own quaint fashion: "at this place ye squaws came down to ye edge of ye river, dancing and behaving themselves, in ye most brutish and indecent manner and taking us prisoners by ye arms, one squaw on each side of a prisoner, they led us up to their village and placed themselves in a large circle round us, after they had gat all prepared for their dance, they made us sit down in a small circle, about inches assunder and began their frolick, dancing round us and striking of us in ye face with english scalps, yt caused ye blood to issue from our mouths and noses, in a very great and plentiful manner, and tangled their hands in our hair, and knocked our heads togather with all their strength and vehemence, and when they was tired of this exercise, they would take us by the hair and some by ye ears, and standing behind us, oblige us to keep our necks strong so as to bear their weight hanging by our hair and ears. "in this manner, they thumped us in ye back and sides, with their knees and feet, and twitched our hair and ears to such a degree, that i am incapable to express it, and ye others that was dancing round if they saw any man falter, and did not hold up his neck, they dached ye scalps in our faces with such violence, yt every man endeavored to bear them hanging by their hair in this manner, rather then to have a double punishment; after they had finished their frolick, that lasted about two hours and a half, we was carried to one of their camps, where we saw some of ye prisoners that came in ye montague; at this place we incamped yt night with hungrey belleys." unpleasant as was the reception of pote and his fellow prisoners at aukpaque they were fortunate in being allowed to escape with their lives. it chanced that the previous year capt. john gorham had brought to annapolis a company of indian rangers--probably mohawks--as allies of the english. paul mascarene justified this proceeding on the ground that it was necessary to set indians against indians, "for tho' our men outdo them in bravery," he says, "yet, being unacquainted with their sculking way of fighting and scorning to fight under cover they expose themselves too much to the enemy's shot." gorham's indian rangers, it appears, had killed several of the maliseets, and pote learned the day after his arrival at aukpaque "that the indians held a counsell amongst ym weather they should put us to death, and ye saint johns indians almost gained ye point for they insisted it was but justice, as they sd there had been several of their tribe, murdered by capt. john gorham at anapolis. our masters being verey desirous to save us alive, used all ye arguments in their power for that purpose but could not prevail, for they insisted on satisfaction; howsoever our masters prevailed so far with ym, as to take some considerable quantity of their most valuable goods, and spare our lives; this day they gave us some boill'd salmon which we eat with a verey good appetite, without either salt or bread, we incamped this night at this afforsaid indian village apog. (aukpaque.)" evidently the indians had retained the practices of their forefathers as regards their treatment of captives, for pote's experience at aukpaque was just about on a par with that of gyles at medoctec rather more than half a century before. but it is only just to remember that this was a time of war and (as murdoch well points out) indian laws of war permitted not only surprises, stratagems and duplicity, but the destruction and torture of their captives. these practices being in harmony with the ideas and customs inherited from their ancestors did not readily disappear even under the influence of christianity. and yet it is well to remember that the indians often spared the lives of their captives and even used them kindly and however much we may condemn them for their cruelty on many occasions we must not forget that there were other occasions where men of our own race forget for a season the rules of their religion and the laws of humanity. captain pote's unhappy experience at aukpaque caused him to feel no regret when the huron indians took their departure with their captives the next day. they had now come to the "beginning of the swift water" and their progress became more laborious. the party included twenty-three persons. one of the prisoners, an indian of gorham's rangers, taken on goat island at annapolis, pote says "was exceedingly out of order and could not assist ye indians to paddle against ye strong current that ran against us ye greater part of ye day, his head was so exceedingly swelled, with ye squaws beating of him, yt he could scearsley see out of his eyes. i had ye good fortune to be almost well in comparison to what he was, although it was he and i was companions, and sat next to each other, in ye time of their dance, and him they alwas took for my partner to knock our heads together. ye indians asked me in what manner ye squaws treated us, that his head was so exceedingly swelld, i gave them an account, at which they feigned themselves much disgusted, and protested they was intierly ignorant of ye affair, and said they thought ye squaws designed nothing else, but only to dance round us for a little diversion, without mollisting or hurting of us in any manner." as they ascended the river the party encountered occasional rapids which caused some delay, particularly the meductic rapids below the mouth of the pokiok, where they were obliged to land and carry their baggage over clefts of rocks, fallen trees and other obstacles. the indians told pote they would shortly arrive at another indian village and he asked, with some anxiety, if the indians there would use them in the same manner as those at aukpaque. this question led to an immediate consultation among the hurons, and, pote says, "i observed they looked with a verey serious countenance on me; when i saw a convenient oppertunity i spoke to this affect, gentlemen you are all verey sensible, of ye ill usage we met with at ye other village, which i have reason to believe, was intierly contrary to any of your inclinations or permission, and as you call your selves christians, and men of honor, i hope you'l use your prisoners accordingly, but i think it is verey contrary to ye nature of a christian, to abuse men in ye manner we was at ye other village, and i am verey sensible there is no christian nation yt suffers their prisoners to be abused after they have given them quarters, in ye manner we have been; the indians looked verey serious, and approved of what i said, and talked amongst themselves in indian, and my master told me when we arrived to ye indian village i must mind to keep clost by him." on the second morning after they left aukpaque, the party drew nigh medoctec, passing as they proceeded, several small spots where the indians had made improvements and planted corn, beans, etc. pote says:-- "we arrived to ye indian village about noon, as soon as squaws, saw us coming in sight of their village, and heard ye cohoops, which signified ye number of prisoners, all ye squaws in their village, prepared themselves with large rods of briars, and nettles &c., and met us at their landing, singing and dancing and yelling, and making such a hellish noise, yt i expected we should meet with a worse reception at this place that we had at ye other. i was verey carefull to observe my masters instructions, yt he had given me ye day before, and warned ye rest to do likewise." the first canoe that landed was that of the captain of the hurons who had in his canoe but one prisoner, an indian of capt. gorham's company. this unfortunate fellow was not careful to keep by his master, and in consequence "ye squaws gathered themselves round him, and caught him by ye hair, as many as could get hold of him, and halled him down to ye ground, and pound his head against ye ground, ye rest with rods dancing round him, and wipted him over ye head and legs, to such a degree, that i thought they would have killed him in ye spot, or halled him in ye watter and drounded him, they was so eager to have a stroak at him each of them, that they halled him some one way and some another, some times down towards ye water by ye hair of ye head, as fast as they could run, then ye other party would have ye better and run with him another way, my master spoke to ye other indians, and told ym to take ye fellow out of their hands, for he believed they would certainly murther him, in a verey short time." the squaws advanced towards pote, but his master spoke something in indian in a very harsh manner that caused them to relinquish their purpose. the prisoners and their indian masters were conducted to the camp of the captain of the village who, at their request, sent to relieve the poor mohawk from the abuse of the squaws, and he was brought to them more dead than alive. at this place pote met a soldier that had been with him on the schooner "montague" when she was captured who told him how the indians had abused him at his arrival. captain pote did not entirely escape the attentions of the "sauvagesses," witness the following entry in his journal:-- "thursday ye th. this day we remained in ye indian village called medocatike, i observed ye squaws could not by any means content themselves without having their dance. they continued teasing my master to such a degree, to have ye liberty to dance round me, that he consented they might if they would promis to not abuse me, they desired none of ye rest, but me was all they aimed at for what reason i cannot tell. when my masters had given ym liberty, which was done in my absence, there came into ye camp, two large strong squaws, and as i was setting by one of my masters, they caught hold of my armes with all their strength, and said something in indian, yt i supposed was to tell me to come out of ye camp, and halld me of my seat. i strugled with ym and cleard my self of their hold, and set down by my master; they came upon me again verey vigorously, and as i was striving with them, my master ordered me to go, and told me they would not hurt me. at this i was obliged to surrender and whent with ym, they led me out of ye camp, dancing and singing after their manner, and carried me to one of their camps where there was a company of them gathered for their frolick, they made me set down on a bears skin in ye middle of one of their camps, and gave me a pipe and tobacoe, and danced round me till the sweat trickled down their faces, verey plentyfully, i seeing one squaw that was verey big with child, dancing and foaming at ye mouth and sweating, to such a degree yt i could not forbear smilling, which one of ye old squaws saw, and gave me two or three twitches by ye hair, otherwise i escaped without any punishment from them at the time." while he was at medoctec one of the chiefs desired pote to read a contract or treaty made about fourteen years before by his tribe with the governor of nova scotia. he also had an interview with one bonus castine,[ ] who had just arrived at medoctec, and who examined him very strictly as to the cargo of the montague and took down in writing what he said. castine told pote that the penobscot indians were still at peace with the english and he believed would so continue for come time. pote thought it not prudent to contradict him, though he was confident there were several penobscot indians in the party that had captured the boston schooners. at his master's suggestion he remained close in camp, as the indians were dancing and singing the greater part of the night, and castine had made use of expressions that showed his life was in great danger. [ ] in his journal pote terms him "bonus castine from pernobsquett;" there can be little doubt that he was a descendant of baron de st. castin, already mentioned in these pages. the following day the hurons resumed their journey and in due time arrived at quebec. at times the party suffered from lack of food, though fish were usually abundant, and on one occasion they caught in a small cove, a few miles below the mouth of the tobique, as many as fifty-four salmon in the course of a few hours. having considered, at greater length than was originally intended, the adventures of captain pote, we may speak of other individuals and incidents which figure in king george's war. paul mascarene, who so gallantly and successfully defended annapolis royal against the french and indians, was born in the south of france in . his father was a huguenot, and at the revocation of the edict of nantes was obliged to abandon his native country. young mascarene was early thrown upon his own resources. at the age of he made his way to geneva, where he was educated. afterwards he went to england, became a british subject and entered the army. he was present at the taking of port royal by general nicholson and, after serving with credit in various capacities, was appointed lieut.-governor of nova scotia in . he eventually rose to the rank of a major general in the english army. mascarene preserved his love for his native tongue and was always disposed to deal kindly with the acadians. two very interesting letters written by him in french to madame francoise bellisle robichaux have been preserved. this lady came of rather remarkable ancestry. she was the granddaughter of the baron de st. cactin, and had as her great-grandsires on the one hand the celebrated charles la tour, and on the other the famous penobscot chieftain madockawando. in view of the fact that the belleisle family lived for a considerable time on the st. john river, where their name is preserved in that of belleisle bay, it may be well to trace the lineage in fuller detail. the eldest daughter of charles la tour by his second wife, the widow of d'aulnay charnisay, was marie la tour, who was born in st. john in .[ ] she married when about twenty years of age alexander le borgne de belleisle, who was eleven years her senior. their son alexander, born in , married december , , anastasia st. castin, a daughter of the baron, de st. castin by his indian wife melctilde, daughter of madockawando, and as a consequence of this alliance the younger le borgne obtained great influence over the maliseets. lieut.-gov. armstrong alludes to this circumstance in a letter to the lords of trade, written in , in which he observes, "madame bellisle's son alexander married an indian and lived among the tribe, being hostile to the british government." this statement is hardly fair to anastasie st. castin, for, while her mother certainly was the daughter of an indian chief, her father was the baron de st. castin and she herself a well educated woman. the genealogist of the d'abbadie st. castin family, however, uses rather grandiloquent language when he styles the mother of anastasie st. castin, "mathilde matacawando, princess indienne, fille de matacawando, general-en-chef des indiens abenakis."[ ] [ ] marie la tour, widow of alexander le borgne was living at annapolis royal in at the age of years. [ ] see transactions royal society of canada , p. . in spite of the supposed hostility of alexander le borgne de belleisle to british rule in acadia, he came before the governor and council at annapolis and took the oath of allegiance. he also presented a petition requesting the restoration of the seignioral rights of his father as one of the la tour heirs; this was ordered to be transmitted to the home authorities. for several years the sieur de belleisle lived with his family at annapolis and the governor and council regarded him with favor, but failed to obtain the recognition of his seignioral rights. after a time the la tour heirs got into litigation among themselves, and one of their number, agatha la tour, who had married an officer of the garrison, ensign campbell, seems to have outwitted the other heirs and to have succeeded in selling the rights of the la tour family to the english crown for three thousand guineas. this naturally was displeasing to alexander le borgne de belleisle. he retired to the st. john river about the year and settled near the mouth of belleisle bay. he had a son alexander (the third of the name[ ]), who married marie le blanc and settled at grand pre, where he died in . francoise belleisle, who had the honor of being a correspondent of lieut.-governor mascarene, married pierre robichaux. the wedding took place at annapolis royal, january , , the officiating priest being st. poncy de lavennede. the contracting parties are described in the old church register as "pierre robichaux, aged about years, son of francois robichaux and madeleine terriot, and mademoiselle francoise de belle isle, aged about years, daughter of sieur alexandre le borgne de belle isle and anastasie de st castin of the parish of ste anne." the bride signs her name francoise le borgnes. it is evident that the "parish of ste. anne" was the parish or mission of that name on the st. john river from the fact that two years later a second daughter of the sieur de bellisle married a robichaux and in her marriage certificate she figures as "marie le borgne de belle isle, daughter of alexandre le borgne de belle isle and of anastasie st. castin of the river st. john." [ ] the name "alexander" descended through at least two more generations, as i am informed by placide p. gaudet, who is by all odds the best living authority in such matters. alexander le borgne de belleisle, mentioned above, left at his death a widow and seven children, of whom six were transported with their mother to maryland at the time of the acadian expulsion. the remaining child alexander belleisle (the fourth) went to l'islet in quebec, where he married genevieve cloutier in and their first son, anthony alexander, was baptized the year following.--w. o. r. the brothers robichaux settled after their marriage near their father-in-law on the st. john river and it was from them that the little settlement of robicheau, above the mouth of belleisle bay, derived its name.[ ] [ ] see ganong's historic sites in new brunswick: transactions of the royal society of canada for , p. . [illustration: (_from the calnek-savary history of annapolis, by permission of the hon. judge savary._)] francoise belleisle robichaux wrote to paul mascarene early in respecting her claim to some property in dispute with her relatives at annapolis. the governor in his reply gives her some information and advice, adding, "i think you too reasonable to expect any favor of me in what concerns my conduct as a judge; but in every other thing that is not contrary to my duty i shall have real pleasure in testifying to you the esteem i have for you. let me have your news when there is an opportunity, freely and without fear." when the war with france began, three years later, the sieur de belleisle and his son alexander took sides with their countrymen. the father evidently cherished a hope that in the course of events acadia might revert to france, in which case he expected to obtain the recognition of his seignioral rights. young alexander le borgne was, as already stated, a leader of the indians in the attack on annapolis early in , which attack failed on account of the energy and bravery of mascarene. the following letter of the lieut.-governor to frances belleisle robichaux is of interest in thin connection. annapolis royal, oct. , . madame,--when i learned that your father, in the hope of recovering his seigneurial rights, had sided with those who came to attack this fort, i confess i was of opinion that the whole family participated in his feelings; and the more so, as your brother was with the first party of savages who came here last summer. i am agreeably surprised, however, and very glad to see by your letter that you did not share in those sentiments, and that you have remained true to the obligations which bind you to the government of the king of great britain, i am unwilling that the esteem which i have entertained for you should be in any manner lessened. with respect to the protection which you ask for your establishment on the river st. john, it is out of my power to grant it. we cannot protect those who trade with our declared enemies. therefore you must resolve to remain on this [the english] side during the continuance of the present troubles, and to have no intercourse with the other. should you come and see us here, you will find me disposed to give you all the assistance that you can reasonably expect. be assured that i am, madam, your friend and servant, p. mascarene. the next glimpse we get of the name of belleisle on the river st. john is in connection with a notable treaty made with the indians in . in the summer of that year, peace having been proclaimed with france, capt. edward how went to the st. john river in the warship "albany," and had several interviews with the indian chiefs, who agreed to send deputies to halifax to wait upon governor cornwallis and renew their submission to the king of england. accordingly on the th of august, francois arodowish, simon sactawino, and jean baptiste madounhook, deputies from the chiefs of the st. john river, and joannes pedousaghtigh, chief of chignecto, with their attendants, arrived at halifax to pay their respects to the new governor, and to agree upon "articles of a lasting peace." great must have been the wonder of these children of the forest at the busy scene that met their eyes on landing at old chebucto. a colony of two thousand five hundred persons had settled on a spot hitherto almost without inhabitant, and the town of halifax was rising, as if by magic, from the soil which less than eight weeks before had been covered by a dense forest. the sound of axes, hammers and saws was heard on every hand. two days after their arrival the indians were received on board the man-of-war "beaufort" by cornwallis and his entire council. the delegates announced that they were from aukpaque, medoctec, passamaquoddy and chignecto, and that their respective chiefs were francois de salle of octpagh, noellobig of medoctec, neptune abbadouallete of passamaquoddy and joannes pedousaghtigh of chignecto. they brought with them a copy of the treaty made with their tribes in and expressed a desire to renew it. after the usual negotiations the treaty was engrossed on parchment and signed by the indians, each man appending to his signature his private mark or "totem." eleven members of the council also signed the treaty as witnesses. a few days later the indians returned with capt. how to the st. john river, where the treaty was duly ratified, and thirteen chiefs signed the following declaration:-- "the articles of peace concluded at chebuckto the fifteenth of august, , with his excellency edward cornwallis esq'r, capt. general governor and commander-in-chief of his majesty's province of nova scotia or acadie, and signed by our deputies, having been communicated to us by edward how esq'r, one of his majesty's council for said province, and faithfully interpreted to us by madame de bellisle inhabitant of this river nominated by us for that purpose. we the chiefs and captains of the river st. johns and places adjacent do for ourselves and our different tribes confirm and ratify the same to all intents and purposes. "given under our hands at the river st. johns this fourth day of september, ." at first glance it would seem that the interpreter, madame belleisle, must have been anastasie st. castin, wife of alexander le borgne de belleisle, but as she was then more than sixty years of age it is possible the interpreter may have been her daughter, francoise belleisle robichaux. that the latter had a position of some influence with the indians is shown by the fact that when the chiefs of the river st. john went to halifax in (nearly twenty years later) they complained that the ornaments of their church "were taken by francoise belleisle robicheau and carried to canada by her, and that she refused to give them up." the natural presumption is that the ornaments were intrusted to her care by the missionary, germain, when he left the mission of ste. anne, and that she took them with her for safe keeping. the english colonial authorities congratulated cornwallis on the treaty made with the indians. "we are glad to find," say they, "that the indians of the st. john river have so willingly submitted to his majesty's government and renewed their treaty, and as they are the most powerful tribe in those parts, we hope their example may either awe or influence other inferior tribes to the like compliance." cornwallis in reply said, "i intend if possible to keep up a good understanding with the st. john indians, a warlike people, tho' treaties with indians are nothing, nothing but force will prevail." alexandre le borgne de belleisle was living on the river st. john as late at least as and was regarded by the nova scotia authorities as "a very good man." the site of his residence is indicated on charles morris' map of and there can be little doubt that a settlement of four houses in the same vicinity, marked "robicheau" in the morris map of , was the place of residence of frances belleisle robichaux. the name nid d'aigle, or "the eagle's nest," is applied to this locality in bellin's map of , d'anville's map of marks at the same place "etabliss't francois," or french settlement. the place is nearly opposite evandale, the site of the well known summer hotel of john o. vanwart. here the st. john river is quite narrow, only about a five minutes paddle across. the british government during the war of built at nid d'aigle, or "worden's," a fortification consisting of an earthwork, or "half-moon battery," with magazine in rear and a block-house at the crest of the hill still farther to the rear, the ruins of which are frequently visited by tourists. the situation commands an extensive and beautiful view of the river, both up and down, and no better post of defence could be chosen, since the narrowness of the channel would render it well nigh impossible for an enemy to creep past either by day or night without detection. there is some reason to believe that the french commander, boishebert, established a fortified post of observation here in . [illustration: old fort at worden's] it is altogether probable that the name "nid d'aigle" was given to the place by the sieur de belleisle or some member of his family, and one could wish that it might be restored either in its original form, or in its saxon equivalent, "the eagle's nest." colonel monckton, by direction of governor lawrence, ravaged the french settlements on the lower st. john in , and in the report of his operations mentions "a few houses that were some time past inhabited by the robicheaus," which he burnt. it is possible that francoise belleisle robichaux went with her family to l'islet in quebec to escape the threatened invasion of which they may have had timely notice, but it is more probable the removal occurred a little earlier. the situation of the acadians on the river st. john in was pitiable in the extreme. they were cut off from every source of supply and lived in fear of their lives. the marquis de vaudreuil says that in consequence of the famine prevailing on the river, many acadian families were forced to fly to quebec and so destitute were the wretched ones in some instances that children died at their mother's breast. the parish records of l'islet[ ] show that pierre robichaux and his wife lived there in . [ ] a child of pierre robichaud and francoise belleisle his wife was interred at l'islet, december , . francoise belleisle robichaux died at l'islet january , , at the age of years, having outlived her husband six years. they had a number of children, one of whom, marie angelique, married jean baptiste d'amour, de chaufour, and had a daughter, marguerite d'amour, whose name seems very familiar to us. the parish records at l'islet give considerable information concerning the descendants of the families d'amours, robichaux and belleisle, but the space at our disposal will allow us to follow them no further. chapter x. rival claims to the st. john river. the st. john river region may be said to have been in dispute from the moment the treaty of utrecht was signed in until the taking of quebec in . by the treaty of utrecht all nova scotia, or acadia, comprehended within its ancient boundaries, was ceded to great britain, and the english at once claimed possession of the territory bordering on the st. john. to this the french offered strong objection, claiming that nova scotia, or acadia, comprised merely the peninsula south of the bay of fundy--a claim which, as already stated in these pages, was strangely at variance with their former contention that the western boundary of acadia was the river kennebec.[ ] for many years the dispute was confined to remonstrances on the side of either party, the french meanwhile using their savage allies to repel the advance of any english adventurers who might feel disposed to make settlements on the st. john, and encouraging the acadians to settle there, while the english authorities endeavored, with but indifferent success, to gain the friendship of the indians and compel the acadians to take the oath of allegiance to the british crown. the dispute over the limits of acadia at times waxed warm. there were protests and counter-protests. letters frequently passed between the english government at annapolis and the missionaries on the st. john--loyard, danielou, and germain, who were in close touch with the civil authorities of their nation, and were in some measure the political agents of the marquise de vaudreuil and other french governors of canada. [ ] in a letter to the french minister, written in , villebon observes "j'ai recu par mons'r de bonaventure qui est arrive ici le juillet la lettre de votre grandeur et le traite de paix fait avec l'angleterre [the treaty of ryswick]. * * comme vous me marquez, monseigneur, que les bornes de l'acadie sont a la riviere de quenebequi." [kennebec]. etc. it is possible that the marquis de vaudreuil felt special interest in the st. john river country, owing to the fact that his wife louise elizabeth joibert, was born at fort jemseg while her father, the sieur de soulanges, was governor of acadia. at any rate the marquis stoutly asserted the right of the french to the sovereignty of that region and he wrote to the lieut. governor of nova scotia in , "i pray you not to permit your english vessels to go into the river st. john, which is always of the french dominion." he also encouraged the acadians of the peninsula to withdraw to the river st. john so as not to be under british domination, pledging them his support and stating that father loyard, the jesuit missionary, should have authority to grant them lands agreeably to their wishes. lieut. governor doucett, of nova scotia, complained of the aggressive policy of the marquis de vaudreuil, asserting that he was entirely mistaken as to the ownership of the st. john river, for it was "about the centre of nova scotia;" he was satisfied, nevertheless, that the acadians believed it would never be taken possession of by the british, and if the proceedings of the french were not stopped they would presently claim everything within cannon short of his fort at annapolis. the policy of the french in employing their indian allies to deter the english from any advance towards the st. john region was attended with such success that the infant colony of nova scotia was kept in a constant state of alarm by the threats and unfriendly attitude of the micmacs and maliseets. there were, however, occasional periods in which there were no actual hostilities, and it may be said that the peace made at boston in , and ratified by the st. john river tribe in may, , was fairly observed by the indians until war was declared between england and france in . during this war the st. john river was much used as a means of communication between quebec and the french settlements of acadia, smart young indians with light birch canoes being employed to carry express messages, and on various occasions large parties of french and indians travelled by this route from the st. lawrence to the bay of fundy. the indian villages of medoctec and aukpaque afforded convenient stopping places. in the year a great war party, including the abenakis of quebec as well as their kinsmen of the upper st. john, arrived at aukpaque. thence they took their way in company with the missionary germain to chignecto. they had choice of two routes of travel, one by way of the kennebecasis and anagance to the petitcodiac, the other by way of the washademoak lake and the canaan to the same river. as the war proceeded the maliseets actively supported their old allies the french. some of them took part in the midwinter night attack, under coulon de villiers, on colonel noble's post at grand pre. the english on this occasion were taken utterly by surprise; noble himself fell fighting in his shirt, and his entire party were killed, wounded or made prisoners. from the military point of view this was one of the most brilliant exploits in the annals of acadia, and, what is better, the victors behaved with great humanity to the vanquished. the missionaries le loutre and germain were naturally very desirous of seeing french supremacy restored in acadia and the latter proposed an expedition against annapolis. with that end in view he proceeded to quebec and returned with a supply of powder, lead and ball for his maliseet warriors. however, in october, , the peace of aix la chapelle put a stop to open hostilities. immediately after the declaration of peace, captain gorham, with his rangers and a detachment of auxiliaries, proceeded in two ships to the river st. john and ordered the french inhabitants to send deputies to annapolis to give an account of their conduct during the war. count de la galissonniere strongly protested against gorham's interference with the acadians on the st. john, which he described as "a river situated on the continent of canada, and much on this side of the kennebec, where by common consent the bounds of new england have been placed." this utterance of the french governor marks another stage in the controversy concerning the limits of acadia. he stoutly contended that gorham and all other british officers must be forbidden to interfere with the french on the st. john river, or to engage them to make submissions contrary to the allegiance due to the king of france "who," he says, "is their master as well as mine, and has not ceded this territory by any treaty." the governors of massachusetts and of nova scotia replied at some length to the communication of count de la galissonniere, claiming the territory in dispute for the king of great britain, and showing that the french living on the st. john had some years before taken the oath of allegiance to the english monarch. the acadians on the st. john, whose allegiance was in dispute, were a mere handful of settlers. the abbe le loutre wrote in : "there are fifteen or twenty french families on this river, the rest of the inhabitants are savages called marichites (maliseets) who have for their missionary the jesuit father germain." his statement as to the number of acadian settlers is corroborated by mascarene, who notified the british authorities that thirty leagues up the river were seated twenty families of french inhabitants, sprung originally from the nova scotia side of the bay, most of them since his memory, who, many years ago, came to annapolis and took the oath of fidelity. he adds, "the whole river up to its head, with all the northern coast of the bay of fundy, was always reckoned dependent on this government." both mascarene and shirley strongly urged upon the british ministry the necessity of settling the limits of acadia, and a little later commissioners were appointed, two on each side, to determine the matter. they spent four fruitless years over the question, and it remained undecided until settled by the arbitrament of the sword. shirley was one of the commissioners, as was also the marquis de la galissonniere, and it is not to be wondered at that with two such determined men on opposite sides and differing so widely in their views, there should have been no solution of the difficulty. the period now under consideration is really a very extraordinary one. ostensibly it was a time of peace. by the treaty of aix-la-chapelle in england gave back cape breton (or isle royale) to france and france restored madras to england, but there remained no clear understanding as to the boundaries between the possessions of the rival powers in america. so far as the french and english colonies were concerned the treaty of aix-la-chapelle scarcely deserved the name of a truce. it was merely a breathing time in which preparations were being made for the final struggle. the treaty was so indefinite that a vast amount of territory was claimed by both parties. the english were naturally the most aggressive for the population of the english colonies was , , while canada had but , people. count de la galissonniere, the governor-general of canada, though diminutive in stature and slightly deformed, was resolute and energetic; moreover he was a statesman, and had his policy been followed it might have been better for france. he advised the government to send out ten thousand peasants from the rural districts and settle them along the frontiers of the disputed territory, but the french court thought it unadvisable to depopulate france in order to people the wilds of canada. failing in this design, the count determined vigorously to assert the sovereignty of france over the immense territory in dispute. accordingly he claimed for his royal master the country north of the bay of fundy and west to the kennebec, and his officers established fortified posts on the river st. john and at the isthmus of chignecto. he at the same time stirred up the indians to hostilities in order to render the position of the english in nova scotia and new england as uncomfortable as possible, and further to strengthen his hands he endeavored to get the acadians in the peninsula of nova scotia to remove to the st. john river and other parts of "the debatable territory." his policy led to a counter policy on the part of shirley and lawrence (governors respectively of massachusetts and nova scotia) namely, that the acadians should not be allowed to go where they liked and to do as they pleased but must remain on their lands and take the oath of allegiance to the english sovereign or be removed to situations where they could do no harm to the interests of the british colonies in the then critical condition of affairs. ostensibly there was peace from the treaty of aix-la-chapelle until war was declared between the rival powers in . but in the meantime there was a collision between them on the ohio river, where the french built fort duquesne on the site now occupied by pittsburg. the governors of the english colonies held a conference and decided on rather a startling programme for a time of peace. gen. braddock was to march on fort duquesne and drive the french from the ohio valley; shirley, of massachusetts, was to lead an expedition against niagara; william johnson, was to take crown point and secure control of lake champlain; while, in acadia, colonel monckton was to attack the french position at fort beausejour. in every instance the english were the aggressors but they justified their action on the ground that the places to be attacked were on british territory. this the french as emphatically denied. braddock's attempt resulted in a most disastrous failure, shirley's expedition was abandoned, william johnson won a brilliant victory at lake george and colonel monckton captured beausejour. the course of events on the river st. john and in other parts of acadia harmonizes with the general situation of affairs in america at this time. as the period under consideration is one of which comparatively little has been written, it may be well to make use of the information contained in the voluminous correspondence of the french ministers and their subordinates in america. early in the summer of the count de la galissonniere sent the sieur de boishebert to the lower part of the river st. john with a small detachment to secure the french inhabitants against the threats of capt. gorham, who had been sent by the governor of nova scotia to make the inhabitants renew the oath of allegiance to the english sovereign, which de la galissonniere says "they ought never to have taken." the count expresses his views on the situation with terseness and vigor: "the river st. john is not the only place the english wish to invade. they claim the entire coast, from that river to beaubassin, and from canso to gaspe, in order to render themselves sovereigns of all the territory of the abenakis, catholics and subjects of the king, a nation that has never acknowledged nor wishes to acknowledge their domination and which is the most faithful to us in canada. if we abandon to england this land, which comprises more than leagues of seacoast, that is to say almost as much as from bayonne to dunkirk, we must renounce all communication by land from canada with acadia and isle royal, together with the means of succoring the one and retaking the other." the count further argues that to renounce the territory in dispute will deprive the acadians of all hope of a place of refuge on french soil and reduce them to despair, and he apprehends that the english, having no reason to care for them, will suffer them to have no missionaries and will destroy at their leisure their religion. "it is very easy," he adds, "to hinder the english establishing themselves on these lands. they will have to proceed through the woods and along narrow rivers, and as long as the french are masters of the abenakis and the acadians are provided with arms and supplies from france the english will not expose themselves to their attacks." both sides began to consider the advisability of taking forcible possession of the disputed territory, but the french were the first to take action. in june, , mascarene reported two french officers with twenty or thirty men from canada and a number of indians had come to erect a fort and make a settlement at the mouth of the river, and that two vessels with stores and materials were coming to them from quebec. on receipt of this information, cornwallis, who had just arrived at halifax, sent captain rous in the sloop "albany" to st. john to ascertain what works were in course of erection by the french, and to demand the authority for their action. he also issued a proclamation in french prohibiting the acadians from making a settlement on the st. john. when the "albany" arrived no one was found at the old fort and for some time no inhabitants, either french or indian, were seen. at last a french schooner entered the harbor, laden with provisions. captain rous took her, but offered to release her provided the master would go up the river and bring down the french officers. the master accordingly went up the river in a canoe, and the next day a french officer with thirty men and indians came down and took position, with their colors flying, at a point on the shore within musket shot of the "albany." the commander of the french was pierre boishebert. he had fixed his headquarters ten miles up the river at the place now known as woodman's point, just above the mouth of the nerepis, where in governor villebon's time there had been an indian fortress. captain rous ordered the french to strike their colors; their commander demurred, and asked to be allowed to march back with his colors flying, promising to return the next day without them. rous ordered the colors to be struck immediately, which being done, the officers were invited on board the "albany." they showed their instructions from the governor of canada, count de la galissonniere, by which it appeared they had at first been ordered to establish a fortified post, but afterwards the order had been countermanded and they were required merely to prevent the english from establishing themselves till the right of possession should be settled between the two crowns. the letter of captain rous to boishebert, upon the arrival of the former at st. john harbor, is rather quaint reading. the original is in french. from the river st. john, july, . sir,--i am directed by the king, my master, to look into and examine the various ports, harbors and rivers of his majesty's province of nova scotia, and am now here for that intent. being informed that you are upon this river with a detachment of soldiers of the king of france. i should be pleased to know by what authority and with what intention your are engaged in a similar procedure. it would afford me much pleasure if i could have the honor of a personal interview in order to convince you of the rights of the king, my master. i shall be delighted to see some of the indian chiefs in order to inform them of the peace and of the harmony that prevails between the two crowns, also to confer with them. until i shall have the honor, as i hope, of seeing you, i am very truly, etc. in the subsequent interview with the savages, father germain and captain edward how acted as interpreters, and the missionary wrote an account of the interview to the governor of quebec, in which he mentions the fact that cornwallis, the governor of nova scotia, claimed jurisdiction over the st. john river region and beyond it to passamaquoddy, deeming it a part of acadia according to its ancient limits. boishebert, in his letter to the count de la galissonniere, says that one of the best reasons the english had for laying claim to the territory north of the bay of fundy was that the commission of subercase, the last french governor who resided at annapolis royal, fixed his jurisdiction as far west as the river kennebec. in the spirit of a true soldier, boishebert wishes that war might speedily recommence, and that france might be more fortunate as to the conquest of acadia than in the last war. meanwhile he had arranged with capt. rous to remain undisturbed on the river st. john until the next spring, on the understanding that he was to erect no fortification. the st. john indians having made peace with the governor of nova scotia at halifax, it was decided that a present of , bushels of corn should be sent "to confirm their allegiance"; and it seems their allegiance needed confirmation, for a little later father germain warned captain how that an indian attack was impending. nor was it by any means a false alarm, for on the th of december about micmacs and maliseets surprised and captured an english officer and eighteen men and attacked the fort at minas. father germain evidently was a warrior priest and had used his powers of observation to some purpose; he strongly recommended the erection of a fort for the defence of the river at the narrows ("detroit") about a league and a half above where the river enters the sea. the english, he says, could not pass it with men if there were but or men to oppose them. the marquis de la jonquiere, who succeeded as governor general this year, at once displayed anxiety in regard to the st. john river region--"being the key of this country," he says, "it is essential to retain it." he confides his policy to the minister at versailles, in his letter of october , . "it is desirable," he writes, "that the savages should unite in opposing the english even at chibuctou (halifax).... the savages must act alone without co-operation of soldier or inhabitant and without it appearing that i have knowledge of it. it is very necessary also, as i wrote the sieur de boishebert, to observe much caution in his proceedings and to act very secretly in order that the english may not be able to perceive we are supplying the needs of the said savages. it will be the missionaries who will attend to all the negotiations and who will direct the proceedings of the said savages. they are in very good hands, the rev. father germain and the abbe le loutre being well aware how to act to the best advantage and to draw out all the assistance they can give on our side. they will manage the intrigue in such a way that it will not be known. they will concert in every instance with the sieurs de la corne and de boishebert. if all turns out as i hope it will follow,--first that we will hold our lands and the english will not be able to establish any settlements before the boundaries have been determined by the two crowns, and second that we shall be able to assist and gradually to withdraw from the hands of the english the french of acadia." it is not necessary for us to criticize too harshly the policy of the french governor and his subordinates, but we need not be surprised that in the end it provoked resentment on the part of the governors of nova scotia and massachusetts and was one of the causes of the acadian expulsion. that it was in a measure successful is proved by the reply of lawrence a few years later to the suggestion of the lords of trade, who had been urging upon him the importance of making settlements: "what can i do to encourage people to settle on frontier lands, where they run the risk of having their throats cut by inveterate enemies, who easily effect their escape from their knowledge of every creek and corner?" boishebert, prevented from immediately establishing a fortified post, seems to have moved freely up and down the river. at one time he writes from "menacouche" at the mouth of the river, at another from "ecoubac"--the indian village of aukpaque--at another he is at "medoctec," the upper indian village. he organized the few acadians on the river into a militia corps, the officers of which were commissioned by count de la galissonniere. meanwhile the abbe le loutre was employing his energies to get the acadians to leave their lands in the nova scotian peninsula and repair to the st. john river and other places north of the isthmus. to such a proceeding cornwallis objected and le loutre then wrote to the french authorities an earnest letter in behalf of the acadians, in which he says, "justice pleads for them and as france is the resource of the unfortunate, i hope, monseigneur, that you will try to take under your protection this forsaken people and obtain for them through his majesty liberty to depart from acadia and the means to settle upon french soil and to transport their effects to the river st. john or some other territory that the authorities of canada may take possession of." the french still cherished the project of establishing a fortified post at the mouth of the st. john and, as they had opportunity, sent thither munitions of war and garrison supplies. in the summer of the year , the british warship "hound," capt. dove, was ordered to proceed to st. john in quest of a brigantine laden with provisions and stores from quebec, and said to have on board french soldiers. before the arrival of the "hound," however, capt. cobb in the provincial sloop "york" got to st. john, where he found the brigantine anchored near the shore at the head of the harbor. she fired an alarm gun on sight of the "york." the english captain brought his vessel to anchor under the lee of partridge island and sent a detachment of men in a whale boat to reconnoitre. they were fired upon by the french and indians, and the french commander, boishebert, insisted that cobb should quit the harbor, as it belonged to the french king, and threatened to send his indians to destroy him and his crew. nothing daunted, cobb proceeded up the harbor in his sloop until he discovered "a small fortification by a little hill," where the french were assembled and had their colors hoisted. boishebert's forces included fifty-six soldiers and indians. he summoned to his aid the inhabitants living on the river and they responded to the number of fifty or sixty. the governor of canada had lately commissioned joseph bellefontaine, an old resident, to be "major of all the militia of the river st. john,"[ ] and it is to the presumed he was active on this occasion. cobb allowed himself to be enticed on shore under a flag of truce, and was made a prisoner and compelled to send an order to his vessel not to molest the french brigantine. his mate, however, pluckily declined to receive the order, and announced his determination to hold the french officers who had come with the message until cobb should be released. this boishebert was obliged to do and the commander of the "york," by way of retaliation, took six prisoners from the french brigantine and brought them to halifax. [ ] the date of joseph bellefontaine's commission was april , . capt. dove did not reach st. john with the "hound" until after the "york" had left. he did not enter the harbor but sent his lieutenant in a whale boat to investigate the state of affairs. the lieutenant's experience was similar to that of cobb. he was induced by boishebert to come on shore, was made a prisoner and only released on promising that the six prisoners carried off by cobb should be set at liberty. in the autumn of the year captain rous, while cruising in the "albany," fell in with a french man-of-war and a schooner off cape sable. the schooner had been sent from quebec with provisions and warlike stores for the indians on the river st. john. rous fired several guns to bring the enemy to, but in response the ship cleared for action and when the "albany" ran up alongside of her, poured in a broadside. a spirited engagement ensued, which resulted in the capture of the french ship, but the schooner got safely into st. john. one midshipman and two sailors were killed on board the "albany," and five men on board the frenchman. governor cornwallis reported this as the second instance in which the governor of canada had sent a vessel into a british port with arms, etc., for the indian enemy. the governor of canada, the marquis de la jonquiere, however, viewed the matter from a different standpoint and demanded of cornwallis an explanation in regard to the vessel captured. he again asserted the right of the french king to the lands occupied by his troops, and by his orders four boston schooners were seized at louisbourg as a reprisal for the brigantine taken by the "albany." the correspondence between the governor of quebec and the french colonial minister supplies some interesting details of the sea-fight in the bay of fundy in the autumn of . it seems that boishebert and the missionary germain had sent an urgent request to the quebec authorities for provisions for the women and children of the indian families, during the absence of the men in their winter hunting, and for supplies needed by the french garrison on the st. john. accordingly bigot, the intendant, fitted out the st. francis, a brigantine of to tons, to escort a schooner laden with the required articles to the mouth of the st. john river. the st. francis carried guns and had a crew or men, including soldiers, under command of the sieur de vergor. on the th of october, as the brigantine and schooner were entering the bay of fundy, captain vergor noticed, at in the morning, an english frigate, which put on all sail and came after him. a quarter of an hour afterwards the frigate fired a cannon shot and displayed her flag. vergor immediately hoisted his own flag and responded with a cannon shot, continuing on his way. the english frigate continued the chase and a half hour later fired a second shot followed by a third, which went through the little top-mast of the st. francis. vergor then made preparations for the combat, the frigate continuing to approach and firing four cannon shots at his sails. when within speaking distance vergor called through his trumpet that he was in command of a ship of the king of france carrying provisions and munitions to the troops of his majesty. the english captain in reply ordered him to lay to or he would sink him. vergor repeated his announcement in english, but, for answer the frigate discharged a volley of all her guns damaging the ship and killing two of his men. he in turn now fell upon the frigate, discharging all his guns and musketry. the fight lasted nearly five hours, at the expiration of which the st. francis was so crippled by the loss of her mainmast and injuries to her sails and rigging that vergor was obliged to surrender. his long boat having been rendered unserviceable, the english captain sent his own to convey him on board. vergor found the frigate to be the albany, of guns and swivel guns and a crew of men, commanded by captain rous. the albany did not pursue the schooner, which proceeded to st. john, but sailed for halifax with her prize, where she arrived three days later. vergor was sent on shore and confined to a room in the house of governor cornwallis. the governor treated him courteously, heard his version of the affair and called a council meeting the next day to inquire into the circumstances of the case. vergor's official report conveys the idea that cornwallis was rather doubtful as to whether rous had acted in a legitimate manner. the council held five or six meetings without coming to any decision. meanwhile, with the governor's approval, vergor had a new main-mast cut and drawn from the woods by the crew of the st. francis and arrangements were made to repair the damaged sails and shrouds. however the matter was soon afterwards taken out of cornwallis' hands by captain rous, who brought the case before the admiralty court, where the st. francis was confiscated for engaging in illicit commerce in the province of his britannic majesty. the french authorities took up the matter and sent a spirited remonstrance to the british ambassador, claiming that the transaction was opposed to every kind of law and demanding the restoration of the captured vessel with exemplary punishment of captain rous and the admiralty officers at halifax, as well as orders on the part of his britannic majesty to all officers in his ships and colonies to observe the peace and to undertake nothing contrary thereto. a demand was also made that the english should in no way hinder the migration of the acadians from the peninsula of nova scotia to the mainland or elsewhere. it is needless to say that the british government did not comply with these demands and here was one of the many grievances that led to a renewal of the war a little later. the sieur de vergor and the crew of the st. francis were sent to louisbourg, and the brigantine retained at halifax as a prize on the ground that she was engaged in furnishing warlike munitions to the indian enemy and interfering with british rights on the river st. john. cornwallis evidently felt the difficulties of his position very keenly. halifax was yet in its infancy and in a comparatively defenceless state; louisbourg and quebec were supporting the french on the st. john and he had neither the men nor the money to oppose their proceedings. it seems, too, that he had been called to account for the large expenditure he had made in nova scotia. in his letters to the lords of trade he expresses himself as distracted between his desire to lessen expenses and his fears of losing the province. he was doubtful if, with the forces at his disposal, he could prevent the french from fortifying st. john and beausejour, and he observes, with some irritation, that it has been said, "what has he to contend with? three or four hundred indians: it is a time of peace and no other enemy to fear." so far from this being an adequate representation of the situation, he claimed the facts were that the french had taken possession of all nova scotia north of the bay of fundy, and had obliged many of the acadians of the peninsula to remove thither and swear allegiance to the king of france; that the governor of canada, through his emissary le loutre, had offered a premium for every prisoner, head, or scalp of an englishman; that the french had sent a ship of thirty-six guns and men to the bay of fundy and had not only incited the indians to hostilities but had behaved as if there were open war. the french at quebec, in view of the difficulty of keeping in touch with their posts on the north side of the bay of fundy, endeavored to improve the route of communication via the river st. john. during the previous war they had made a road from riviere du loup to lake temisquata, but the woods were growing up again and deep holes began to render it impracticable. bigot, the intendant, therefore spent or livres in improving it, and in consequence couriers were able to come to quebec in ten or twelve days from shediac, and in eight from the river st. john. for the convenience of travelers three magazines of supplies were established, one at riviere du loup, one at temisquata and one at the head of madawaska river. the marquis de la jonquiere anticipated great advantages from the overland route of communication. he says in a letter to france, dated may , : "we have made a road and are going to make some flat-bottomed conveyances so that in winter we will be able to transport by hauling over the snow the things most needed for the river st. john, and in summer we shall be able to make the transport by means of carts and flat-bottomed batteaux. these arrangements will be very useful supposing that the english continue to stop the vessels we send there." "as the english have boasted that they are going to establish themselves at the river st. john," continues the marquis, "i have given orders to the sieur de boishebert, who commands there, to repair the old fort named menacoche (menagoueche) at the mouth of the river and to make there a barrack for the officers and men in garrison with necessary magazines. the whole will be built of logs and i have very expressly recommended boishebert, to have it done without expense to the king, or at least very little, and to that end he is to employ the soldiers and militia." this fort stood in carleton opposite navy island on the point at the foot of king street, still called "old fort." the marquis la jonquiere says the terraces of the fort were about twenty-five feet high outside and twelve inside and the defences were such as would enable the garrison to withstand a lively attack. it was intended to place four cannons of l. to cannonade any ships that might attack it. the chief difficulty of the situation was the scarcity of water. the fort was quite indispensable for if the french were to abandon the lower part of the st. john river the english would immediately take possession. the savages were instructed to annoy the english on all occasions and to plunder any of their ships that landed on their shores. the marquis even went so far as to suggest that some of the acadians, dressed and painted like the savages, should join in the attacks upon the english in order that the savages might act with greater courage. he says he cannot avoid consenting to what the savages do in keeping the english busy and frustrating their advance since the french were restrained from open hostilities by the peace. "i beg you to be assured, monseigneur," the marquis continues, "that i will manage everything so as not to compromise myself and that i will not give up an inch of land that belongs to the king. it is time the limits should be settled and that we should know positively what we are to hold, so as to put an end to all hostilities and to avoid the immense expense that is occasioned." la jonquiere, in the month of february, sent on the ice a detachment of fifty canadians to strengthen the garrison at the mouth of the river st. john, and as the services of boishebert were required elsewhere, the sieur de gaspe,[ ] lieutenant of infantry, was sent to replace him and remained two years and a half in command. [ ] ignace philippe aubert, sieur de gaspe, was born at st. antoine de tilly near quebec in . he was an ensign in acadia under de ramezay in and was with colombier de villiers in the attack on minas the following winter. he died at st. jean, port joly, in . he was grandfather of the author of the "anciens canadiens." the situation of the acadians on the st. john at this time was a very unenviable one. fort boishebert, at the nerepis, was a frail defence, and they were beginning to be straitened for supplies on account of the vigilance of the english cruisers. father germain wrote to the commandant at annapolis royal for leave to buy provisions there for the french living on the river, but the governor and council objected on the ground that french troops occupied the place and the indians there were hostile. we gather some interesting information from a letter written at this time to the french minister by the sieur de gaspe, who was in command of the fort at the mouth of the nerepis.[ ] [ ] i am indebted to placide p. gaudet for a copy of the original letter of which a translation is given on next page. it is one of the many interesting documents that have never yet been published.--w. o. r. fort de nerepice, th june, . monseigneur: on my arrival at this post on the river st. john, to which i am sent by my general, the marquis de la jonquiere, to relieve m. de boishebert, the commandant of the place, i found at anchor the frigate "fidele," commanded by m. maccarti, who was landing the provisions and other supplies sent for this post. the coming of this ship, monseigneur, convinces me that you wish to hold possession of this post. i have only just arrived here. i learn that the english threaten to come and build a fort at the mouth of the river near that which the marquis de la jonquiere has caused to be begun and has ordered me to continue. i will do my best to carry out his orders so far as circumstances permit, and the governor will furnish you with an account of his intentions. in order to fix ourselves here we must keep up communication by way of la baie francaise [the bay of fundy] so as to furnish provisions; for the place cannot be supplied by land, especially if we must afford subsistence to those families of acadians who are obliged to seek refuge on the river, as has been stated to me. i will receive them, monseigneur, in order to settle the country, which at present has only twenty-eight french inhabitants,[ ] who can give no assistance in providing for the support of others, not having as yet enough cultivated land for themselves. m. maccarti, commander of the frigate, has taken note of the harbor [at st. john] on the other side of the fort, and of the other advantages, or disadvantages, we must encounter in this place, where i will endeavor to maintain the rights that we have and to oppose the englishman if he attempts to build here. i am with very profound respect, monseigneur, your humble and very obedient servant, gaspe. [ ] this refers, i imagine, to the acadians on the lower st. john and does not include the colony at ste. annes.--w. o. r. [illustration: woodman's point. (the star shows the site of fort boishebert.)] resolute attempts continued to be made to withdraw the acadians from the peninsula of nova scotia, both by threats and persuasions, and the marquis de la jonquiere issued a proclamation to those living within the bounds of what is now new brunswick, declaring that all who did not within eight days take the oath of allegiance in the militia companies would be considered as rebels and driven from their lands. the companies of militia were ordered to drill on sundays and feast days and to hold themselves in readiness to defend themselves at any moment. a few months later the governor of canada was able to report that all the acadian inhabitants who were upon the lands of the king had taken the oath of fidelity. twelve blank commissions were sent from quebec to be issued to those most capable of fulfilling the duties of officers in the militia. at fort menagoueche the work did not progress as fast as anticipated. the workmen had no tools except axes, and the sieur de gaspe complained that he had not been able to make the soldiers of the garrison work. he says "they are very bad subjects" and he dared not compel them to work apprehending their desertion. the fort was surrounded by four bastions and, in addition to the barracks and magazines, it was proposed to construct a building of logs, squared with the axe, to accommodate the chaplain and surgeon and to serve as a guard house. fort boishebert, at woodman's point on the nerepis, was a difficult post to maintain owing to the insufficiency of the troops at de gaspe's disposal. he complains that the savages had broken in the door of the cellar and he thought it advisable to abandon it altogether. the marquis de la jonquiere ordered him to consult with father germain on the subject and meanwhile to double the guard. the missionary wrote he was of the same opinion as the sieur de gaspe, and permission was accordingly given to abandon the fort and to transport the supplies wherever they might be needed. the jesuit missionary at penobscot, father gounon, proposed to spend the winter at "nerepisse" with his indians, but the governor of canada did not at all approve of it, fearing that if the savages were to abandon their village the english would advance from the westward towards the river st. john. he apprehended that if only a small number of indians remained at penobscot, and these without a missionary, the enemy would win them to their side and, as a direful result, the english would presently establish themselves at matsipigouattons, advancing to peskadamokkanti (or passamaquoddy) and so by degrees to the river st. john. chapter xi. the french anxious to hold possession of the river st. john. the situation on the st. john had now become a matter of international interest in view of the boundary dispute. the deliberations of the french and english commissioners began in and lasted four years. in preparing the french case the marquis de la galissonniere summoned to his aid the abbes de l'isle-dieu and le loutre, who were both well informed as to the situation of acadia and also filled with intense zeal for the national cause. we learn from letters of the abbe de l'isle-dieu, written at paris to the french minister early in the year , that the two missionaries, in consultation with the count de la galissonniere, prepared several documents to elucidate the french case. copies of these very interesting papers are now in the canadian archives at ottawa, and have been published at quebec in by the abbe casgrain in "le canada francais." the three most important of these documents are entitled: . memorandum on the necessity of determining the limits of acadia. . plan for the settlement of the country in order to hasten the determining of the aforesaid limits. . representation of the present state of the missions, french as well as indians, in the southern part of new france in canada. in the first of these documents the following references are made to the river st. john: "this post, so important to retain for france, has as commandant m. de gaspe at fort menagoeck, built at the mouth of the river. the missionary on the river is father germain, jesuit, who makes his residence at ekauba (aukpaque), distant about forty leagues from fort menagoeck. "the savages of father germain's mission are marechites, and he has in addition the care of some french families settled on the river. "since the month of august last, father audren has been sent as assistant to father germain, but his assistance will be much more hurtful than beneficial to the mission if, in accordance with the plan of the jesuit provincial, it is decided to recall father germain to quebec to fill the office of superior general of the house of the jesuits in canada. this is not merely a groundless surmise, for the destination and nomination to office of father germain are already determined, at least father germain himself so states in his last letter to the abbe l'isle-dieu, and he adds that he has made every possible representation to at least delay his recall. the abbe l'isle-dieu, who perceives all the consequences of his removal, has already endeavored to prevent its being effected by the provincial, and it is thought that, under the present circumstances, the court should as far as possible employ its authority to hinder the retirement of father germain from his mission, where the esteem and confidence, the respect and authority, that he has acquired over the savages and the few french who are found in his mission, give him a power that a young missionary could not have. besides father germain joins to a disinterestedness without example, to piety the most sincere, and to a zeal indefatigable, consummate experience. all this is necessary in connection with various operations that are now to be undertaken, in which a man of such qualifications can be of great assistance. "at a distance of eighteen leagues from father germain's post of duty is another called medoctek, which is dependent on the same mission and served by the jesuit father loverga, who has been there nine months, and who has the care of a band of marechites; but, in addition to the fact that father loverga is on the point of leaving, he would be useless there on account of his great age and it would be better to send there next spring father audren, since this mission is daily becoming more important, especially to the savages whose chief occupation is beaver hunting. "the french inhabitants of the river st. john have suffered much by different detachments of canadians and indians, to the number of or men, commanded by m. de montesson, a canadian officer, whom they have been obliged to subsist, and for that purpose to sacrifice the grain and cattle needed for the seeding and tillage of their own fields. in the helpless position in which these inhabitants find themselves, it is thought that in order to afford them sufficient relief it would be advisable that the court should send them immediately at least , barrels of flour, and the same quantity annually for some time, both for their own subsistence and for that of the garrison and the indians. it would be well also to send them each year about barrels of bacon; this last sort of provision being limited to this quantity because it is supposed, or at least hoped, there will be sent from quebec some indian corn and peas as well as oil and fat for the savages." the reference to the st. john river region in the document from which this extract is taken, concludes by strongly recommending that the supply of flour and bacon should be sent, not to the store houses at quebec and louisbourg, but directly to st. john, where it would arrive as safely as at any other port and with less expense to the king and much more expedition to the inhabitants. it may be well now to pause in the narration of events to look a little more closely into the situation on the river st. john at the time of the negotiations between the rival powers with regard to the limits of acadia. the statement has been made in some of our school histories, "acadia was ceded to the english by the treaty of utrecht, in , and has remained a british possession ever since." the statement is, to say the least, very misleading, so far as the st. john river country is concerned, for the french clung tenaciously to this territory as a part of the dominions of their monarch until new france passed finally into the hands of their rivals by the treaty of paris in . there was no part of acadia that was more familiar to the french than the valley of the river st. john, and the importance attached to the retention of it by france is seen very clearly in a memorandum, prepared about this time for the use of the french commissioners on the limits of acadia. there can be no doubt that the abbes de l'isle-dieu and le loutre had a hand in the preparation of this document, which is an able statement of the case from the french point of view. they assert "that the british pretensions to ownership of the territory north of the bay of fundy have no foundation. that the french have made settlements at various places along the shores of the gulf of st. lawrence, where they have always lived peaceably and quietly under the rule of the french king. this is also the state there at present, and the english desire to change it, without having acquired any new right of possession since the treaty of utrecht, and after forty years of quiet and peaceable possession on the part of the french. it is the same with regard to the river st. john and that part of canada which adjoins the bay of fundy. the french, who were settled there before the treaty of utrecht, have continued to this day to hold possession under the jurisdiction and sovereignty of the king of france, enjoying meanwhile the fruit of their labors. it is not until more than forty years after the treaty of utrecht that the english commissioners have attempted, by virtue of a new and arbitrary interpretation of the treaty, to change and overturn all the european possessions of america; to expel the french, to deprive them of their property and their homes, to sell the lands they have cultivated and made valuable and to expose europe by such transactions to the danger of seeing the fires of war rekindled. whatever sacrifices france might be disposed to make, in order to maintain public tranquility, it would be difficult indeed for her to allow herself to be deprived of the navigation of the river st. john by ceding to england the coast of the continent along the bay of fundy." continuing their argument, the writers of the document state: "that it is by the river st. john that quebec maintains her communication with isle royal and isle st. jean, [cape breton and prince edward island], and also with old france, during the season that the navigation of the river st. lawrence is impracticable; and as this is the only way of communication for a considerable part of the year, possession of the route is indispensably necessary to france. all who have any special knowledge of canada agree on this head, and their testimony finds confirmation in an english publication that lately appeared in london, entitled 'the present state of north america,' in which the writer sounds the tocsin of war against france and, although partiality, inspired by love of country, has led him into many errors, he does not seek to disguise how important it is to deprive france of the right of navigation of the river st. john, which affords the only means of communication with quebec during the winter. 'the french,' says the english author, 'have often sent supplies and merchandise from old france to quebec, both in time of peace and of war, by the river st. john, so as to avoid the difficulties and risks of navigation by the river st. lawrence. * * if we suffer them to remain in possession of that river they will always have an open communication between france and canada during the winter, which they could have only from may to october by the river st. lawrence.' "this testimony makes us feel more and more how essential it is for france to keep possession of the river st. john so as to have communication with quebec and the rest of canada during the seven months of the year that the st. lawrence is not navigable. the communication which the english pretend they require by land between new england and nova scotia, along the coast of the etchemins[ ] and the bay of fundy, is only a vain pretext to mask their real motive, which is to deprive france of a necessary route of communication. [ ] the country of the etchemins, or maliseets, included eastern maine, and the western part of new brunswick. "considering the length of the road by land from new england to port royal and acadia, the obstacles to be encountered in the rivers that fall into the sea along the coast, which will be more difficult to cross near the mouth; all these circumstances render the communication by land a veritable chimera; the more so that the way by sea from the remotest part of new england to port royal is so short and so easy, while that by land would be long, painful and difficult. we may be perfectly sure that if the english were masters of all the territory they claim they would never journey over it, and the only advantage they would find would be to deprive the french of a necessary route of communication. we do not fear to say that the object of the english is not confined to the country they claim under the name of acadia. their object is to make a general invasion of canada and thus to pave the way to universal empire in america." it is little to be wondered at that the french nation should have been very reluctant to part with their control of the st. john river. from the days of its discovery by champlain it had become of increasing importance to them as a means of communication between the widely separated portions of new france. but more than this the river was in many of its features unrivelled in their estimation. its remarkable falls near the sea, its massive walls of limestone at "the narrows" just above--which the french called "cliffs of marble"--its broad lake-like expansions, its fertile intervals and islands, the fish that swarmed in its waters and the game that abounded in its forests, its towering pines and noble elms were all known to them and had been noted by their early explorers. champlain, l'escarbot, denys, biard, la hontan, cadillac and charlevoix had described in glowing words the wealth of its attractions. it is worth while in this connection to quote the description which lamothe cadillac penned in --just two hundred and ten years ago: _river st. john._--"the entrance of this river is very large. two little islands are seen to the left hand, one called l'ile menagoniz (mahogany island) and the other l'ile aux perdrix (partridge island), and on the right hand there is a cape of which the earth is as red as a red poppy. the harbor is good; there is no rock and it has five or six fathoms of water. _fort._--there is a fort of four bastions here, which needs to be repaired. it is very well situated and could not be attacked by land for it is surrounded by water at half tide. less than an eighth of a league above there are two large rocks, perpendicular, and so near that they leave only space sufficient for a ship cleverly to pass. _gouffre._ just here there is a fall, or abyss (gouffre), which extends seven or eight hundred paces to the foot of two rocks. there is a depth of eighteen fathoms of water here. i think that i am the only one who has ever sounded at this place. the falls are no sooner passed than the river suddenly expands to nearly half a league. it is still very deep and a vessel of fifty or sixty tons could ascend thirty leagues, but it would be necessary to take care to pass the falls when the sea is level, or one would certainly be lost there. it must be conceded that this is the most beautiful, the most navigable and the most highly favored river of acadia. the most beautiful, on account of the variety of trees to be found, such as butternut, cherry, hazel, elms, oaks, maples and vines. _masts._--there is a grove of pine on the boarders of a lake near gemseq (jemseg), fifteen leagues from the sea, where there might be made the finest masts, and they could be conducted into the st. john by a little river which falls in there. _pewter mine._--near the same lake there in a mine of pewter. i have seen the indians melt and manufacture from it balls for their hunting. it is most navigable, by reason of its size and depth and the number of lakes and rivers that empty themselves into it. the most highly favored, by reason of its greater depth of fertile soil, of its unrivalled salmon fishing, and of its reaching into the country to a depth of eighty leagues. the bass, the trout, the gaspereau, the eel, the sturgeon and a hundred other kinds of fishes are found in abundance. the most highly favored, also, because it furnishes in abundance beavers and other fur-bearing animals. i have ascended this river nearly one hundred and fifty leagues in a bark canoe. i pass in silence other attractions that it possesses for i must not be too long. one single thing is to be regretted, which is that in the most beautiful places, where the land and meadows are low, they are inundated every spring time after the snow melts. the continuance of this inundation (or freshet) is because the waters cannot flow out sufficiently fast on account of those two rocks, of which i have spoken, which contract the outlet of the river. it would not be very difficult to facilitate the flow of the waters. it would only be necessary to mine the rock that is to the right hand on entering, and which seems to want to tumble of itself. it is undeniable that the waters would flow forth more freely, and the falls would be levelled, or at least diminished, and all this flat country protected from inundation. _forts of the micmacs and maliseets._--thirty leagues up the river there is a fort of the micmacs,[ ] at a place called naxouak, and at thirty leagues further up there is one of the maliseets. this latter nation is fairly warlike. they are well made and good hunters. they attend to the cultivation of the soil and have some fine fields of indian corn and pumpkins. their fort is at medoctek. at forty leagues still farther up there is another fort which is the common retreat of the kanibas, or abenakis, when they are afraid of something in their country. it is on the bank of a little river which flows into the st. john, and which comes from a lake called madagouasca, twelve leagues long and one wide. it is a good country for moose hunting." [ ] cadillac seems to have so termed villebon's fort because the micmacs of eastern new brunswick and nova scotia often made it a rendezvous; perhaps also it was a fanciful distinction by way of comparison with the maliseet fort at medoctec. in another edition of his narrative cadillac says that madawaska lake and river turn northward so those who journey from acadia to quebec go across the portage from the lake to the river st. lawrence, opposite tadoussac. this route was from very early times considered by the french as the easiest and best and was greatly valued by them as a means of communication both in time of war and in time of peace. cadillac's idea of protecting the low lying lands of the st. john river from inundation during the spring freshet, by enlarging the outlet at the falls, has been revived on more than one occasion. for example, sixty years later we find the following note in the statement prepared by the missionaries le loutre and de l'isle-dieu for the use of the commissioners engaged in the attempt to settle the boundaries of acadia--: "the river st. john is very extensive and the soil is excellent, easily cultivated, capable of supporting at least , families, but there exists an inconvenience which up to the present prevents the place from being inhabited as it should be. this inconvenience is due to the frequency of the floods occasioned by a fall where the waters do not discharge themselves fast enough and in consequence flow back upon the lands above, which they inundate. but if the proposed colony be established at this place it would be possible to give vent to the flood by removing a small obstruction [portage][ ] less than an eighth of a league wide; this would certainly prevent the inundations, dry up the lands and render cultivation practicable." [ ] it would be interesting to know the exact location of the "portage" referred to above. was it the rocky neck between marble cove at indiantown and the straight shore? or was it the comparatively slight obstruction at drury's cove that prevents the river finding an outlet by way of the marsh creek into courtenay bay? see on this head dr. george f. matthew's interesting paper on "the outlets of the st. john river:" nat. hist. society bulletin no. xii., p. . a bill was once introduced into the house of assembly for the purpose of enabling the promoters to remove, by blasting, the rocks that obstruct the mouth of the river and thus allow the waters to flow more freely. it was claimed that many benefits would follow, chiefly that the lumbermen would be able to get their logs and deals to market more expeditiously and at less cost, and that the farmers, of maugerville, grand falls and sheffield would be saved the serious inconveniences occasioned by the annual freshet. however, popular sentiment was strongly opposed to the project. people speedily realized that not only would the beauty of the river be destroyed but that navigation would be rendered precarious and uncertain. the project, in fact, would have changed our noble st. john into a tidal river, unsightly mud flats alternating with rushing currents of turbid waters, while so far as protection of the low-lying lands goes the remedy would in all probability have proved worse than the disease, for instead of an annual inundation there would have been an inundation at every high tide. moreover the harbor at st. john would have been ruined. there can be no secure harbor at the mouth of a great tidal river where swirling tides pour in and out twice in the course of every twenty-four hours. cadillac mentions the convenient route to quebec via the river st. john. the indians had used it from time immemorial and the french followed their example, as at a later period did the english. the missionaries le loutre and de l'isle-dieu in the statement prepared by them in , already mentioned, say:-- "it is very easy to maintain communication with quebec, winter and summer alike, by the river st. john, and the route is especially convenient for detachments of troops needed either for attack or defence. this is the route to be taken and followed:-- "from quebec to the river du loup. from the river du loup by a portage of leagues to lake temiscouata. from lake temiscouata to madaoechka [madawaska.] from madaoechka to grand falls. from grand falls to medoctek. from medoctek to ecouba [aukpaque], post of the indians of the jesuit missionary, father germain. from ecouba to jemsec. from jemsec, leaving the river st. john and traversing dagidemoech [washa demoak] lake ascending by the river of the same name, thence by a portage of leagues to the river petkoudiak. from petkoudiak to memeramcouk descending the river which bears that name. from memeramcouk by a portage of three leagues to nechkak [westcock]. from nechkak to beausejour." by this route the troops commanded by the french officers marin and montesson arrived at beausejour in less than a month from the time of their departure from quebec, the distance being about miles. in the war of the th regiment, raised in this province, left st. john on the th day of february and on the th of the same month crossed the st. lawrence on the ice and entered quebec , strong, having accomplished a march of miles in midwinter in sixteen days and, says col. playfair, without the loss of a man. in the year the d light infantry marched from this province to quebec in the month of december in almost precisely the same time, but the conditions were distinctly more favorable; the season was not nearly so rigorous, roads and bridges had been constructed over the greater portion of the route and supplies could be obtained to better advantage. yet it is said the great duke of wellington observed of this march of the d light infantry, "it is the only achievement performed by a british officer that i really envy." how much greater a feat was the march of the gallant hundred-and-fourth whose men, poorly fed and insufficiently clad, passed over the same route on snowshoes in the middle of a most inclement winter, a quarter of a century before, to defend canadian homes from a foreign invader? during the negotiations between the french and english commissioners on the boundaries of acadia, the suggestion was made by the abbes de l'isle-dieu and le loutre, that if it should be found impossible to hold all the lands north of the bay of fundy for france the st. john river region should be left undivided and in possession of its native inhabitants. as early as the year the marquis de vaudreuil had stated to the french government: "the english wish to seize upon the lands that the abenakis and indians of the river st. john occupy, under the pretext that this land forms part of acadia ceded to them by the king. the indians so far from withdrawing on this account have answered that this land has always belonged to them, and that they do not consider themselves subjects of the french, but only their allies." vaudreuil admits that he encouraged this idea, and that his proposal to build a church for the maliseets at medoctec had as one of its principal objects the cementing of their alliance with the french and providing them with another inducement to cling to the locality where their church stood, and not by any means to abandon their old fort and village. in charlevoix, the well known jesuit historian, writes the french minister at versailles not to delay the settlement of the boundaries, for the english, who are colonizing and fortifying acadia, will soon be in a position to oppress their indian allies, the abenakis (maliseets), if steps are not taken in season to prevent them and to guarantee to the indians peaceable possession of their country, where it is necessary they should remain in order to defend it against the english, otherwise there would be nothing to hinder the english from penetrating as far as the french settlements nearest quebec; besides where would the abenakis go if they were obliged to abandon their country? "in short," charlevoix adds, "it seems to me certain that if time is given the english to people acadia before the limits are agreed on, they will not fail to appropriate all the territory they wish, and to secure possession by strong forts which will render them masters of all that part of new france south of quebec; and if this should be done it will certainly follow that the abenakis will join them, will abandon their religion, and our most faithful allies will become our most dangerous enemies." of all the leaders of the french in acadia, none was more active and influential than the abbe le loutre. but while his energy, ability and patriotism are undoubted, his conduct has been the subject of severe criticism not only on the part of his adversaries but of the french themselves. he did not escape the censure of the bishop of quebec for meddling to so great an extent in temporal affairs, but the bishop's censure is mild compared to that of an anonymous historian, who writes: "abbe loutre, missionary of the indians in acadia, soon put all in fire and flame, and may be justly deemed the scourge and curse of this country. this wicked monster, this cruel and blood thirsty priest, more inhumane and savage than the natural savages, with a murdering and slaughtering mind, instead of an evangelick spirit, excited continually his indians against the english. * * * all the french had the greatest horror and indignation at le loutre's barbarous actions; and i dare say if the court of france had known them they would have been far from approving of them." it is only fair to the abbe le loutre to mention that the officer who criticizes him in this rude fashion was the chevalier johnston, an englishman by birth and a puritan by religion and as such prejudiced against the french missionary. johnston, however, served at louisbourg on the side of france with great fidelity in the capacity of lieutenant, interpreter and engineer. father germain, the missionary to the indians and french on the st. john, was a man of courage and of patriotic impulses. he deemed himself justified in making every possible effort to keep the english from gaining a foothold north of the bay of fundy, but it does not appear that he ever incited the indians to indulge their savage instincts, or that he was guilty of the duplicity and barbarity that have been so freely laid to the charge of the abbe le loutre. it is evident, moreover, that the marquis de la galissonniere and his aides were particularly anxious to retain the services of germain. he had been twelve or fourteen years in charge of his mission on the st. john, and during most of that time had labored single handed. recently father loverja had come to stay with the maliseets of medoctec in consequence of their urgent request for a missionary, their village being eighteen leagues from aukpaque, where father germain was stationed. another missionary named audren (or andrein) had just arrived to replace germain, who had been nominated superior of the house of jesuits at quebec. the abbes de l'isle-dieu and le loutre endeavored to convince the french minister that it was very undesirable, under existing circumstances, that germain should be removed, as he was valued and beloved by his people--french and indians alike--and his services could not well be spared. there was no chaplain at the fort, lately re-established at the mouth of the river, and loverja's age and infirmities would oblige him shortly to remove to quebec. the two missionaries would then have sufficient occupation, especially as they would have frequently to repair on the one hand to medoctec, and on the other to the garrison of fort menagoueche. in consequence of these strong objections to his retirement it was decided by father germain's superiors to allow him to remain at his mission. the abbe de l'isle-dieu wrote the french minister, early the next year, that there was neither priest nor chapel at fort menagoueche, and that a missionary was needed on the lower part of the river. father germain had now for a long time been missionary to the maliseets at aukpaque (l'isle d'ecouba) and having more than eighty families under his care found the fort too far removed to give due attention to the wants of the garrison. the situation on the st. john at this time was not viewed with complacency by the authorities of nova scotia and new england. on the th october, , governor hopson, of nova scotia, wrote the lords of trade and plantations that he had been informed by governor shirley, of massachusetts, that since the arrival of a french missionary at the river st. john the conduct of the inhabitants had altered for the worse; the french had now families settled on the river, had greatly strengthened the old fort at its mouth with guns and men, and had built a new one. fort boishebert, some miles up the river armed with twenty-four guns and garrisoned by regulars. he also says a french frigate of thirty guns lay behind partridge island waiting for a cargo of furs, and that the french seemed to be entirely masters of the river. it is not unlikely this statement is exaggerated, for the following summer lieut.-governor lawrence says the french had at st. john only a small fort with three bad old guns, one officer and sixteen men; while of indians there were fighting men. chapter xii. the acadians become the football of fortune. as time went on the acadians became impatient at the delay in settling the limits of acadia. in vain they were annually told the boundaries would soon be determined, all negotiation proved fruitless. those who had crossed the isthmus into what is now the county of westmorland found themselves undecided as to their future course. their inclination--a very natural one--seems to have been to return to the fields they had abandoned, but the abbe le loutre urged them to remain under french rule as the only way of enjoying unmolested the privileges of their religion. for their encouragement and protection fort beausejour was erected. in the month of january, , lieut.-governor lawrence informed the lords of trade that the french were hard at work making settlements on the st. john and were offering great inducements to the acadians of the peninsula to join them. he could not prevent some families from going, but the greater part were too much attached to their lands to leave them. in the opinion of lawrence it was absolutely necessary, for the development and control of acadia as an english colony, that the forts of beausejour and the mouth of the river st. john should be destroyed, and the french driven from the settlements they were establishing north of the bay of fundy. although the indians had committed no hostilities for two years, he believed no dependence could be placed on their quietude so long as the french were allowed to exercise their disturbing influence among them. lawrence now began to consult with the governor of massachusetts, sir william shirley, about the removal of the acadians from chignecto and the river st. john. he proposed that two thousand troops should be raised in new england, which with the regular troops already in nova scotia would be sufficient for the business, the command of the expedition to be given to colonel robert monckton. it was intended the expedition should sail from boston about the th of april, but it was delayed more than a month awaiting the arrival of arms from england, and it was not until early in june that it arrived at chignecto. to aid the expedition captain rous[ ] was sent with a small squadron to the bay of fundy. the details of the seige of fort beausejour need not here be given, suffice it to say that after four days' bombardment the sieur de vergor was obliged, on the th june, to surrender to colonel monckton. [ ] capt. john rous in his early career commanded a boston privateer. having distinguished himself in several minor expeditions, he commanded the massachusetts galley "shirley," of guns, at the first seige of louisbourg, and bore the news of the surrender to england, where as a reward for his gallant services he was made a captain in the royal navy. he commanded the sutherland of guns, at the second seige of louisbourg, and was with wolfe in at the seige of quebec. it was from his ship wolfe issued his last order before storming the heights. capt. rous died at captain rous, with three twenty-gun ships and a sloop, immediately sailed for st. john, where it was reported the french had two ships of thirty-six guns each. he anchored outside the harbor and sent his boats to reconnoitre. they found no french ships and on their appearance boishebert, the officer in command of the fort, burst his cannon, blew up his magazine, burned everything he could and marched off. the next morning the indians invited captain rous ashore and gave him the strongest assurances of their desire to make peace with the english, saying that they had refused to assist the french. a few weeks after boishebert had been thus obliged to abandon fort menagouche there occurred the tragic event known as the "acadian expulsion." the active agents employed by lawrence and shirley in this transaction were colonel monckton and his subordinates, of whom lieut.-colonel john winslow and capt. murray were the most actively engaged. these officers evidently had little relish for the task imposed on them. winslow in his proclamation to the inhabitants of grand pre, minas, etc., says: "the duty i am now upon, though necessary, is very disagreeable to my natural make and temper." the hostility of the new england troops to the acadians added to the difficulties of their officers. murray wrote to winslow: "you know our soldiers hate them, and if they can find a pretence to kill them they will." of recent years there has been much controversy concerning the expulsion of the acadians and widely differing opinions have been expressed on the one hand by parkman, murdoch, hannay, hind and aikins and on the other by casgrain, richard, porier, gaudet and savary. upon the merits of this controversy it is not necessary to enter, and it will be more in keeping with our present subject to refer to the acadian expulsion only as it concerns the history of events on the river st. john. the position of the sieur de boishebert after the capture of beausejour and the fort at st. john was a very embarassing one. his letter to the chevalier de drucour, who commanded at louisbourg, is of interest in this connection. "at the river st. john, october, . "monsieur,--as the enemy has constantly occupied the route of communication since the fall of beausejour, i have not had the honor of informing you of the state of affairs at this place. "i was compelled to abandon the fort--or rather the buildings--that i occupied on the lower part of the river in accordance with orders that i had received in case of being attacked. i have beaten a retreat as far as the narrows (detroits) of the river, from which the enemy has retired, not seeing any advantage sufficient to warrant an attempt to drive me from thence. "i have succeeded, sir, in preventing the inhabitants of this place from falling under the domination of the english. "monsieur de vaudreuil, approving this manoeuvre, has directed me to establish a temporary camp (camp volant) sit such place as i may deem most suitable. even were i now to go to quebec he could not give me any assistance, all the troops and militia being in the field. "i received on the th of august a letter from the principal inhabitants living in the vicinity of beausejour beseeching me to come to their assistance. i set out the th with a detachment of men, french and indians." shortly after his arrival at the french settlements on the petitcodiac, boishebert had a sharp engagement with a party of new england troops who had been sent there to burn the houses of the acadians and who were about to set fire to their chapel. the conflict occurred near hillsboro, the shiretown of albert county, and resulted in a loss to the english of one officer and five or six soldiers killed, and a lieutenant and ten soldiers wounded, while boishebert's loss was one indian killed and three wounded. he returned shortly afterwards to the river st. john accompanied by thirty destitute families with whom he was obliged to share the provisions sent him from quebec. evidently the marquis de vaudreuil relied much upon the sagacity and courage of his lieutenant on the st. john river in the crisis that had arisen in acadia. in his letter to the french colonial minister, dated the th october, , he writes that the english were now masters of fort beausejour and that boishebert, the commander of the river st. john, had burnt his fort, not being able to oppose the descent of the enemy. he had given him orders to hold his position on the river and supplies had been sent him for the winter. he hoped that father germain, then at quebec, would return without delay to his indian mission and act in concert with boishebert. the marquis summarises his reasons for wishing to maintain the post on the river st. john as follows:-- " . as long as i hold this river and have a detachment of troops there i retain some hold upon acadia for the king, and the english cannot say that they have forced the french to abandon it. . i am assured of the fidelity of the acadians and the indians, who otherwise might think themselves abandoned and might yield to the english. . mon. de boishebert will rally the acadians from far and near and will try to unite them and their families in one body. these acadians, so reunited, will be compelled for their own security actively to resist the enemy if he presents himself. . mon. de boishebert will in like manner be engaged rallying the savages and forming of them a body equally important, and by corresponding with m. manach, the missionary at miramichi, will be able, in case of necessity, to unite the savages of that mission to his own in opposing the advance of the enemy. . he will be able constantly to have spies at beausejour and halifax, and to take some prisoners who will inform him of the situation and strength of the english. . he will be able to organize parties of acadians and savages to harras the enemy continually and hinder his obtaining firewood for the garrison at beausejour (fort cumberland). . by holding the river st. john i can at all times have news from louisbourg." the marquis adds that even if france failed to establish her claim to the territory north of the bay of fundy and should be forced to abandon it he hoped, by the aid of boishebert and the missionaries, to withdraw the acadians and their indian allies to canada. the acadians north of the isthmus he estimated were about two thousand (perhaps , would have been nearer the truth) of whom seven hundred were capable of bearing arms. "it would be vexatious," adds the marquis, "if they should pass to the english." after boishebert was forced to retire from the mouth of the river st. john he established himself at a "detroit," or "narrows," up the river, where he constructed a small battery, two guns of a calibre of l., and twelve swivel guns. the following summer he entertained no fears as to his security. he had made an intrenchment in a favorable situation and hoped if the english should venture an attack to have the best of it. "i have particularly recommended him," writes the governor, "not to erect any fortifications which might in case of some unfortunate event be hurtful to us, to retain always a way of retreat and to use every effort to harass the enemy ceaselessly, day and night, until he shall have reduced him to the stern necessity of re-embarking." there are but two places on the lower st. john to which the word "detroit" could apply, namely the "narrows" just above indiantown, near the mouth of the river, and the narrows at "evandale," a little above the mouth of the bellisle[ ]; the latter is the more probable location. the situation as a point of observation and for defence of the settlements above could not be excelled, while at the same time it was not sufficiently near the sea to attract attention on the part of an english cruiser. it is therefore quite probable that the old fort at worden's, erected during the war of , the remains of which are in a fair state of preservation and are often visited by tourists, was built on the site occupied by boishebert's "camp volant" of , afterwards fortified by him and for some little time his headquarters. [ ] see under "nid d'aigle," ganong's place-nomenclature of new brunswick, p. . d'anville's map of shows here "etabliss't. francois," signifying french post or settlement. see observations already made at page . from the month of october to the end of december, , nearly seven thousand of the unfortunate acadians were removed from their homes and dispersed amongst the american colonies along the atlantic seaboard as far south as georgia and the carolinas. a fleet of two ships, three snows, and a brigantine, under convoy of the "baltimore" sloop of war, sailed from annapolis royal on the morning of the th december. on board the fleet were , exiles of all ages whose destinations were massachusetts, connecticut, new york and south carolina. one of the snows[ ] had her mainmast broken in a heavy gale just before her arrival at annapolis and charles belliveau, a ship-builder and navigator of experience, was employed to replace the broken mast, which he did in a workmanlike manner; but upon his claiming payment for the job the captain laughed in his face. belliveau, indignant at such treatment, seized his axe to cut down the mast and this brought the captain to terms. [ ] a snow was a vessel similar to a brig; the marquis de vaudreull says the one above referred to was a portuguese vessel. it chanced that shortly afterwards belliveau and a number of his unfortunate compatriots ( families, persons in all) were placed on board this vessel to be transported to south carolina. the "baltimore" only went as far as new york and the snow, with belliveau and his friends on board, was left to pursue the rest of her voyage unattended; not, however, without a parting caution on the part of the commander of the "baltimore" to her captain to be careful, for amongst his captives were same good seamen. this advice was not heeded as the sequel will show. the voyage proved a tedious one and from time to time small parties of the acadians were allowed on deck for air and exercise. a plot was laid to seize the ship. accordingly six of the stoutest and boldest lay in readiness, and when those on deck were ordered below and the hatchway opened to allow them to descend, belliveau and his friends sprang from the hold and in the twinkling of an eye were engaged in a desperate struggle with the crew. reinforced by those who followed, the master of the vessel and his crew of eight men were soon overpowered and tied fast. belliveau, the leader of the spirited encounter, now took the helm and the course of the ship was reversed. under full sail she careened to the wind until her former master cried to belliveau that he would certainly break the main mast. he replied: "no fear of that; i made it and it is a good one." in due time the vessel reached the bay of fundy without other adventure than a trifling conflict with an english privateer, which was beaten off without loss. the french soon after released and put on shore the english captain and his crew, and on the th day of january anchored safely in the harbor of st john.[ ] [ ] the incident related above is mentioned by several writers, french and english, but the details were gathered by placide p. gaudet about twenty years ago from an old acadian of remarkable memory and intelligence, whose grandfather was a brother of charles belliveau. the names of most of the families who arrived at st. john in this ship have been preserved, including those of charles belliveau, charles dugas, denis st. sceine, joseph guilbault, pierre gaudreau, denis st. sceine, jr., m. boudrault and two families of grangers. charles belliveau, the hero of the adventure just related, was born at the cape at port royal about ; he married in marie madeleine granger and had eight children whose descendants today are numerous. on the th of february, , an english schooner entered the harbor of st. john, under french colors, having on board a party of rangers disguised as french soldiers. governor lawrence writes to shirley: "i had hopes by such a deceit, not only to discover what was doing there but to bring off some of the st. john's indians. the officer found there an english ship, one of our transports that sailed from annapolis royal with french inhabitants aboard bound for the continent (america), but the inhabitants had risen upon the master and crew and carried the ship into that harbor; our people would have brought her off, but by an accident they discovered themselves too soon, upon which the french set fire to the ship." we learn from french sources that on this occasion the captain of the english vessel made some french signals and sent his shallop on shore with four french deserters, who announced that they had come from louisbourg with supplies and that other ships were on their way with the design of re-establishing the fort at the mouth of the river and so frustrating a similar design on the part of the english. the story seemed so plausible that an unlucky acadian went on board the ship to pilot her to her anchorage, but no sooner was he on board than the captain hoisted his own proper flag and discharged his artillery upon the people collected on shore. belliveau and the people who had lately escaped transportation to south carolina were living in huts on shore and perceiving that the english were approaching with the design of carrying off the vessel in which they had escaped, they succeeded in landing some swivel guns and having placed them in a good position made so lively a fire upon the enemy that they soon abandoned the idea of a descent and returned to annapolis royal. the sole result, of this bit of strategy seems to have been the capture of one poor frenchman from whom the english learned that the indians had gone, some to passamaquoddy and others with boishebert to cocagne, also that there was "a french officer and about men twenty-three miles up the river at a place called st. anns." the indians who had gone to passamaquoddy managed to surprise at night a large schooner lying at anchor in harbor l'elang, bound from boston to annapolis royal with provisions for the garrison. the schooner carried six guns and had on board a crew of ten men besides her captain and an artillery officer of the annapolis garrison. the vessel was carried to st. john and hidden on the lower part of the river. the savages pillaged her so completely that on her arrival there remained only a small quantity of bacon and a little rum. the prisoners were sent by boishebert to canada along with others captured on various occasions. the acadian refugees continued to come to the river st. john in increasing numbers, and boishebert and the missionaries soon found themselves reduced to sore straits in their endeavors to supply them with the necessaries of life. the marquis de vaudreuil was determined to hold the st. john river country as long as possible. he wrote the french minister, june , : "i shall not recall m. de boishebert nor the missionaries, nor withdraw the acadians into the heart of the colony until the last extremity, and when it shall be morally impossible to do better." it was his intention to send provisions and munitions of war to the acadians and indians. boishebert was endeavoring at this time, with the approval of the marquis de vaudreuil, to draw as many of the acadians as possible to the river st. john and to induce them to oppose any advance on the part of the english. the french commander, however, soon found his position an exceedingly difficult one. after sending many families to quebec and to the island of st. john he had still six hundred people, besides the indians, to provide for during the winter, and many refugees from port royal and elsewhere desired to come to the river st. john. the number of acadians dependent on him received additions from time to time by the arrival of exiles returning from the south. in the month of june five families numbering fifty persons, arrived from carolina and told boishebert that eighty others were yet to arrive. the difficulties surmounted by these poor people in the pathetic endeavor to return to their old firesides seem almost incredible. a small party of acadians of the district of beaubassin, at the head of the bay of fundy, were transported to south carolina. they traveled thence on foot to fort du quesne (now pittsburg) from which place they were transported to quebec. one might have thought they would have been well satisfied to have remained there, but no, so great was their attachment to their beloved acadia that they would not rest content until they had arrived at the river st. john. the idea that dominated the marquis de vaudreuil in providing these unfortunates with the necessaries of life seems to have been to utilize their services for the defence of canada. "it would not be proper," he says, "that they should be at the charges of the king without giving tangible proof of their zeal for the service of his majesty." the governor not being able to provide for all the refugees at the river st. john, on account of the difficulty of transporting supplies by way of temiscouata, gave directions to the sieur de boishebert to send to miramichi the families he could not subsist on the st. john. the number of acadians at miramichi soon amounted to , persons. the ensuing winter proved most trying to the destitute acadians. the harvest had been extremely poor. in some cases the old inhabitants had nothing to live upon but the grain needed for seeding in the spring time. the conditions at miramichi were probably not more wretched than on the river st. john. of the former the marquis de vaudreuil writes in the following plaintive terms:---- "this part of acadia holds out for the king although reduced to the most wretched state. although ourselves in want, m. bigot has sent a vessel with provisions to miramichi, but she has unfortunately been delayed on the way by head winds. the misery of the acadians there is so great that boishebert has been compelled to reduce their allowance to ten pounds of peas and twelve pounds of meat per month, and it would have been further reduced had not forty bullocks been brought from petitcodiac. this was the allowance for the month of january and, the fishery being exhausted, he could not hope to have the same resource the months following. in a word the acadian mothers see their babes die at the breast not having wherewith to nourish them. the majority of the people cannot appear abroad for want of clothes to cover their nakedness. many have died. the number of the sick is considerable, and those convalescent cannot regain their strength on account of the wretched quality of their food, being often under the necessity of eating horse meat extremely lean, sea-cow, and skins of oxen. such is the state of the acadians. "the intendant, m. bigot, is going to send a ship, as soon as the ice breaks, to carry such supplies as we can furnish them. unless some assistance is sent by sea, the lands, cattle, and effects hidden in the woods must all be sacrificed, and the acadians obliged to go elsewhere." at the beginning of the year , the governors of massachusetts and nova scotia discussed the situation of affairs on the st. john river, and agreed that steps must be taken as soon as possible to dislodge the french. in one of his letters to governor lawrence, shirley observes, "i look upon dispossessing the french of the st. john river, and fortifying it, to be necessary for securing the bay of fundy and the peninsula against attempts from canada. * * * if i am rightly informed, nothing hath yet been done towards it, except making a visit up the river as far as the lower fort, near the mouth of it, upon which the french abandoned it, having first destroyed the stores and burst the cannon, and there still remain the settlements they have above that fort, by means of which they keep the indians inhabiting it in a dependence upon them, and have a passage across a carrying place into the river patcotyeak (petitcodiac) whereby a communication may be maintained between st. john's river and cape breton across the gulf of st. lawrence." in another letter shirley wrote that it was essential the french should be dislodged from the st. john and their settlements broken up, since, if suffered to remain, they would soon be very strong and able to maintain communication by the river with canada, depriving the english of the fur trade upon it and maintaining absolute control of the indians. the indians were at this time decidedly hostile to the english and lawrence determined to wage against them a merciless warfare. accordingly, with the advice and approval of his council, he issued a proclamation offering a reward of £ for every indian warrior brought in alive, a reward of £ for the scalp of every male indian above the age of sixteen years, and for every woman or child brought in alive the sum of £ ; these rewards to be paid by the commanding officer at any of his majesty's forts in the province on receiving the prisoners or scalps. this cold-blooded and deliberately issued proclamation of the chief magistrate of nova scotia and his council can scarcely be excused on the plea that the abbe le loutre and other french leaders had at various times rewarded their savage allies for bringing in the scalps of englishmen. as for the savages, they had, at least, the apology that they made war in accordance with the manner of their race, whereas the proclamation of the governor of nova scotia was unworthy of an enlightened people. nothing could be better calculated to lower and brutalize the character of a soldier than the offer of £ for a human scalp. about this time, two of the new england regiments were disbanded and returned to their homes, their period of enlistment having expired, and the difficulty of obtaining other troops prevented anything being attempted on the st. john for a year or two. lawrence and shirley, however, continued to discuss the details of the proposed expedition. both governors seem to have had rather vague ideas of the number of the acadians on the river and the situation of their settlements. shirley says he learned from the eastern indians and new england traders that their principal settlement was about ninety miles up the river at a place called st. annes, six miles below the old indian town of aukpaque. he thought that or , men would be a force sufficient to clear the river of the enemy and that after they were driven from their haunts the english would do well to establish a garrison of men at st. annes, in order to prevent the return of the french and to overawe the indians. he also recommended that the fort at the mouth of the river, lately abandoned by boishebert, should be rebuilt and a garrison of men placed there. during the years that followed the expulsion of the acadians occasional parties of the exiles, returning from the south, arrived at the river st. john, where they waited to see what the course of events might be. their condition was truly pitiable. some had journeyed on foot or by canoe through an unexplored wilderness; others, from the far away carolinas, having procured small vessels, succeeded in creeping furtively along the atlantic coast from one colony to another until they reached the bay of fundy; and thus the number of the acadians continued to increase until boishebert had more than a thousand people under his care. some of them he sent to canada, for his forces were insufficient for their protection, and his supplies were scanty. the locations of the french settlements on the river at this period are described in detail in dr. ganong's "historic sites in new brunswick." the largest settlement, and that farthest up the st. john, was at st. annes point, where the city of fredericton stands today. here the acadians had cleared or acres of land and built a thriving village with a little chapel (near the site of government house) and probably there was a sprinkling of houses along the river as far up as the indian village of aukpaque, six miles above. their next settlement was at the mouth of the oromocto, where acres of land had been cleared. a very old settlement existed near the abandoned fort at the mouth of the jemseg, but its growth had been retarded by the annoyances of the spring freshets and many of the inhabitants had been obliged to remove. there was an important settlement on the site now occupied by the village of gagetown and houses were scattered along the river for several miles below. another small settlement existed above the mouth of the bellisle, and there may have been a few inhabitants at the mouth of the nerepis where stood fort boishebert. at st. john the french had cleared some land on the west side of the harbor, and in bruce's map of the places cleared are marked as "gardens," but it is probable that the inhabitants abandoned them and fled up the river in when their fort, "menagoueche," was destroyed by captain rous. in the year england declared war against france and the capture of louisbourg was proposed. the governor of canada ordered boishebert to hold himself in readiness to aid in its defence, and he accordingly proceeded to cape breton with a force of acadians and canadians and about indians, many of them maliseets of the river st. john. the latter did not go very willingly, for they had been reduced to so great a state of misery in consequence of not receiving the supplies they had expected from the french that they had entered into peace negotiations with the english. however by means of harangues and promises boishebert contrived to bring them with him. the chevalier de drucour, the commander at louisbourg, urged the french minister to send at once presents and supplies for the savages. "these people," he observes, "are very useful in the kind of warfare we are making, but unless we act towards them as they have been led to expect i will not answer that we shall have them with us next year." he urges the french minister to send him some medals for distribution. the distinction of possessing one was very highly prized and often retained the fidelity of a whole village of the savages. the expected assault of louisbourg did not take place until and boishebert, who had retired to canada, was ordered to repair thither. the marquis de montcalm wrote from montreal to the french minister, april th, "monsieur boishebert, captain of troops of the colony, leaves in the course of a few days, if the navigation of the st. lawrence is open, to proceed to the river st. john and thence to louisbourg with a party of men, including canadians, acadians and savages of acadia." the governor and other officials at quebec seem to have placed every confidence in the courage and capacity of boishebert, who, it may be here mentioned received this year the cross of st. louis in recognition of his services in acadia. "it is certain," writes the marquis de vaudreuil, "that if, when the former siege of louisbourg took place, the governor there had agreed to the proposal to send marin thither with a force of canadians and indians the place would not have fallen, and if boishebert were now to collect acadians and st. john river indians and the micmacs he would be able to form a camp of or men, and drucour could frequently place the besiegers between two fires." the expectations of montcalm and de vaudreuil as to the usefulness of boishebert's detachment in the defence of louisbourg were doomed to disappointment, for boishebert did not arrive at louisbourg until near the end of the siege and with forces not one-third of the number that drucour had been led to expect. two depots of provisions had been placed in the woods for the use of the detachment, but the fact that boishebert had only about acadians and a few indians in addition to a handful of regulars, entirely frustrated drucour's design of harrassing the attacking english by a strong demonstration in their rear. about twenty of boishebert's indians were engaged in a skirmish with the english and two of their chiefs having fallen the rest were so discouraged that they returned to their villages. boishebert himself had a few unimportant skirmishes with outlying parties of the english, and then came the news of the surrender of louisbourg. he immediately sent away the sick of his detachment, set fire to a thousand cords of wood and a quantity of coal to prevent its falling into the hands of the enemy, and on the th july set out on his return to the st. john river. the english made a lively but fruitless pursuit. boishebert left his sick at miramichi, and having sent sixty prisoners, whom he had taken on various occasions, to quebec, he then took part in an expedition against fort george, on the coast of maine, where he gained more honor than at the seige of louisbourg.[ ] he returned to quebec in november, and about the same time there was an exodus from the river st. john, both of acadians and indians, the reason for which the next chapter will explain. from this time the sieur de boishebert ceases to be an actor in the events on the st. john, and becomes merely an on-looker. [ ] the chevalier johnson writes, "boishebert came early in the spring to louisbourg with several hundred men, canadian officers and others from the garrison of louisbourg; and he kept his detachment with such prudence so concealed at miry during the siege, five leagues from louisbourg, that neither the english nor the garrison had ever any news of them." [illustration: major general robert monckton.] chapter xiii. the english take possession of the river st. john. the territory north of the bay of fundy, which now forms the province of new brunswick, was for nearly half a century a bone of contention between the french and their english rivals. it might indeed be said that from the treaty of utrecht in to the treaty of paris in the controversy continued to disturb the peace of europe. sometimes the points at issue were warmly debated at the council board, where the representatives of either nation vainly tried to settle the limits of acadia, and sometimes they were yet more fiercely disputed amidst the clash of arms and bloody scenes of the battle field. but as years passed on, and the growing power of the english colonies began to overshadow that of "la nouvelle france," it seemed that the anglo-saxon race must in the end prevail. the policy of the governors of nova scotia and new england became more and more aggressive. in vain did the valiant montcalm, as late as the year , represent to his country that in fixing the limits of new france it was essential to retain possession of what the english claimed as acadia as far as the isthmus of chignecto, and to retake beausejour; also that france should keep possession of the river st. john or, at least, leave the territory there undivided and in the possession of its native inhabitants: no such compromise as this would now satisfy the english. louisbourg surrendered to general amherst on the th july, , and a few weeks later colonel monckton was sent with a body of troops, flushed with their success, to drive the hapless acadians from their settlements on the river st. john. the particulars connected with this expedition are found in an unpublished document, of which the original is in the public record office in london, entitled "report of the proceedings of the troops on the expedition up st. john's river in the bay of fundy under the command of colonel monckton."[ ] [ ] for a copy of this valuable paper i am indebted to dr. w. f. ganong. the name of monckton is preserved in that of the second largest town of the province. as monckton was the principal agent in an event of such historic importance to us as the permanent occupation of the st. john river, a few words may very properly be devoted to him. robert monckton was the second son of john, first viscount galway, by his wife lady elizabeth manners, youngest daughter of the duke of rutland. he began his military career in flanders in , where he fought in several battles. later he came out to america, and in we find him in charge of the garrison of fort lawrence, keeping watch over the french stronghold of beausejour, across the misseguash. a little later he was commandant of the garrison of annapolis royal. he commanded the english forces at the reduction of beausejour, in june, . the year following he was appointed lieutenant governor of nova scotia. he commanded the th battalion of the th regiment, or "royal americans," at the siege of louisbourg, and in served as second in command to wolfe at the taking of quebec, on which occasion he was conspicuous for his bravery and was severely wounded. a year or two later he was governor of new york. in the course of time he attained the rank of lieutenant-general in the army, and at his death, in , was a member for portsmouth in the british parliament. among those who, in a subordinate capacity, rendered essential service in the expedition to the river st. john none was more conspicuous than our old friend, captain cobb, of the province sloop "york;" a few words may fittingly be devoted to him. sylvanus cobb was born in plymouth, new england, in . shortly before the capture of louisbourg by sir wm. pepperrell, in , he raised a company in his native town for colonel gorham's regiment and served with credit during the operations of the seige. he was subsequently in command of a small armed vessel employed by government to cruise in the bay of fundy. after halifax was founded, in , he was employed by governor cornwallis and his successors for nearly ten years as master of the provincial armed sloop "york." when at louisbourg in he was selected by monckton to conduct wolfe to reconnoitre the fortress previous to an assault. as they sailed up the harbor no one was allowed to stand on deck but wolfe at the fore-sheet and cobb at the helm. the shot flew thickly around them, and wolfe at length signified that they had approached as near to the fortifications as was necessary, but cobb made yet another tack, eliciting wolfe's admiration and the remark, "well, cobb! i shall never again doubt but you will carry me near enough." capt. cobb lived for some years at liverpool, n. s. he died of fever in while serving in an expedition against havana, and is said to have expressed his regret that he had not met a soldier's death at the cannon's mouth. his descendants in queens county, n. s., are numerous. the troops that accompanied colonel monckton to the river st. john included several new england companies of rangers under captains mccurdy, brewer, goreham and stark, a detachment of artillery, the nd battalion of the royal american regiment[ ] and the th regiment of light infantry. the troops embarked on board the transport ships "isabella," "wade," "alexander the second," "viscount falmouth," "lord bleakeney," the sloops "york" and "ulysses" and other vessels, under convoy of the "squirrel" man-of-war. vessels and troops had lately returned from the siege of louisbourg. [ ] the royal american regiment, or th regiment of foot, was raised in america about or . it was commanded by maj. gen. james abercrombie, who was succeeded by gen. sir jeffrey amherst in february, . the corps included four battalions each of , men. robert monckton was appointed colonel in the regiment sept. , . (see murdoch's hist. nova scotia, vol. , p. .) the fleet sailed from halifax on monday the th september and on the th anchored off partridge island sending in cobb and rogers[ ] with their sloops to reconnoitre. they proceeded up the harbor and on their return reported that they had seen only two or three people. however, monckton learned later that there were more than two hundred indians in ambush at the mouth of the river when the english landed, but their chief, overawed by the strength of the invaders, would not suffer them to fire and retired with them up the river, and "upon their return to oauckpack (their settlement about two leagues above st. anns) pere germain, their priest, expecting, as he termed it, 'quelque coup de trahison' from them, marched them off for canada." [ ] capt. jeremiah rogers commanded the armed sloop "ulysses" in the pay of the government of nova scotia, as early as january, . the next day the fleet anchored in the harbor and monckton sent cobb with his sloop to chignecto for some acadian prisoners to serve as pilots up the river, also for some whale boats and captain benoni danks company of rangers. we come now to a day worthy to be held in remembrance--the memorable th of september, --when the control of the river st. john passed finally into the hands of great britain and a permanent english settlement was made upon the shores of our harbor, monckton's journal contains a brief record of the event: "sep'br. ye th.--made the signal for landing about nine and soon after landed near the old fort, with as many men as the boats could take, being about . met with no opposition. the d. division being landed i sent off maj'r scott with about light infantry and rangers to make discovery and advanced the two companys of grenadiers to support him in case of necessity. the maj'r returned, having been above the falls; he found some few tracks but not the least signs of any road or path--the woods very thick and bad marching. the troops being all landed i ordered the tents to be got on shore and encamped the two regiments just at the back of the fort. the light infantry and rangers under maj'r scott encamped on the hill above." the next few days were spent in getting provisions and supplies on shore. the detachment of artillery and three field pieces were also landed. a number of exploring parties were sent out and all agreed that it was impracticable to proceed with the expedition by land. monckton had already sent word by capt. rogers to annapolis and by capt. cobb to fort cumberland to press into the king's service any sloops or schooners available to transport provisions and stores up the river, as the majority of his vessels were too large to attempt the passage of the falls. meanwhile he determined to repair the old fort and work was begun upon it on the th september. "my reasons," writes monckton, "for fixing on this spot, though somewhat commanded by the hill on the back were, that it was so much work ready done to our hands, the command it would have of the harbor, the conveniency of landing our stores, and the great difficultys that would have attended its being erected further from the shore having no conveniency of moving our stores but by men. besides, as the season was so far advanced and we had still to go up the river, i thought it best to fix on what would be soonest done. and in regard to the hill that has some command of it, it is only with cannon, which the enemy would find great difficulty in bringing, and this may hereafter be remedy'd by erecting some small work on it." in the construction of the works at the fort men were employed daily until the th october, when the number was reduced to in consequence of the departure of the expedition up the river to destroy the acadian settlements. capt. cobb returned from fort cumberland the last day of september with danks' company of rangers, five whale boats and nine french prisoners. from the latter monckton learned that it would have been almost impossible to have gone up the river by land, and that it would have been dangerous to attempt to pass the falls with such vessels as they had with them. their opinion, as to the difficulty of passing the falls, was confirmed by observations and soundings made by capt. willock and the masters of the transports. while the fort was building, monckton was engaged in collecting military stores, provisions and supplies of various kinds for which he sent vessels to fort cumberland, annapolis, halifax and boston. the officers' barracks at fort frederick were erected on the nd of october and the work of building the fort made rapid progress, but it was not until the st of october that the expedition was in a position to proceed up the river. even then the start was not a very auspicious one as we learn from monckton's journal, in which he writes:-- "having got together several sloops and schooners and victual'd them, i order cobb & rogers to pass the falls to cover the other vessels as they might be able to get through. they accordingly get under way. cobb being the headmost passes the narrows, but is too late to get over the falls and obliged to come too in a little cove below. the ulysses, capt. rogers, in passing the narrows strikes on a rock, and is drove by the tide into a creek above cobb where the vessell sunk in a short time, and it was with great difficulty the light infantry who were in her and crew were saved. upon hearing this and that cobb did not lay very safe i ordered him down again and very luckily for at low water he would have struck on the rocks." the captain of the man of war "squirrel" endeavored to raise the "ulysses" but was forced to abandon the attempt and she proved a total wreck. having at length got all the smaller vessels safely above the falls and the troops on board, with provisions for a fortnight, monckton himself embarked in capt. cobb's sloop "york," leaving captain bellen of the th regiment in command of the troops left behind. the force that proceeded up the river numbered about , men. to understand the subsequent proceedings of the expedition the reader will do well to refer occasionally to the accompanying plan[ ] based on that transmitted by monckton, along with his report, to major general amherst. [ ] the original of this plan, which is in the british museum, was made by major charles morris, surveyor general of nova scotia. he was with monckton at the river st. john. on the morning of the th october the little fleet got under sail but the wind being contrary little progress was made; indeed the ordnance sloop was very nearly sharing the fate of the "ulysses," and only escaped by casting anchor in a rather perilous position just above the falls. next day the vessels succeeded in crossing grand bay and anchored off "pointe aux tourtres,"[ ] about two leagues above the mouth of the nerepis. on their way they observed the remains of the fort built by boishebert at woodman's point. [ ] this place is known as salmon point, but in the plan is given as pidgeon's point. [illustration: sketch of st. john's harbour, and a part of the river.] [illustration: "isle au garce," or "emenenic." (now called caton's island, in long reach.)] on november , the wind being contrary, little progress was made, and in the evening the "york" anchored off an island called "isle aux garces." monckton landed on the island, which he describes as "a verry fine one--the wood oak, beech, birch, and walnut, and no underwood." this island was none other than the famous emenenic, where some traders and fishermen of st. malo had a small settlement in the year --probably the first european settlement within the confines of the province. it was here the jesuit missionary, father biard, held the first religious service on the st. john river of which we have any record. as mentioned in a previous chapter, the indians still call the island "ah-men-hen-ik," which is almost identical in sound with biard's "emenenic," thus proving that the old indian name has persisted for well-nigh three hundred years. the name "isle au garce," found in the plan of the river, is not easy of explanation. "garce" may possibly be a misprint for "grace," and the name "isle of grace" would harmonize very well with the french missionary's visit and religious services in october, , but placide p. gaudet--who, by the way, is no mean authority as regards the french regime on the river st. john--is disposed to consider the word "garce" as signifying a "merry maiden." if so, the name is suggestive of an untold story and there is material for a romance in connection with our historic "isle au garce." the island is now owned by county secretary george r. vincent. the soil is fertile, well wooded and excellent spring water is abundant; fine oaks grow there as in monckton's day. a little cove, which may be seen in the view of the island a little to the right of the wood-boat, affords an excellent landing place. the plan of the river accompanying colonel monckton's report is of special interest on account of the curious admixture of french and english names. this feature is quite in harmony with the epoch which was one of transition. instances today are not infrequent where the existing name has been translated from the french, a familiar example being that of the island at the mouth of st. john harbor, called by the french "isle au perdrix" and translated into the english "partridge island." another familiar instance occurs in connection with oak point in long reach. describing their progress up the river monckton says, "we came too off point aux chaines to sound." point aux chaines in english means oak point, and the identity of the situation of oak point and of monckton's point aux chaines is clearly shown in the plan of the river. monckton describes the country along the lower part of the river st. john as "verry mountainous and rocky," but above the bellisle comparatively flat and well timbered. on the evening of the nd november the sloop "york" came to anchor "under an island called the great island," or long island. some of the party landed on the island where, monckton tells us, they found walnuts (or butternuts) much like english walnuts. the expedition was now approaching one of the principal acadian settlements and captain benoni danks was sent with a party and a guide to try to take a prisoner in order, if possible, to obtain further information, but the acadians evidently received timely warning of their danger and had abandoned their village. it may be mentioned, in passing, that there are some very uncomplimentary references to captain danks and his rangers in rev. hugh graham's letter to rev. dr. brown, written at cornwallis, n. s., in .[ ] see for example the following: "a considerable large body of the french were at one time surprised by a party of the rangers on petitcodiac river; upon the first alarm most of them threw themselves into the river and swam across, and by this ways the greatest part of them made out to elude the clutches of these bloody hounds, tho' some of them were shot by the merciless soldiery in the river. it was observed that these rangers, almost without exception, closed their days in wretchedness, and particularly a capt. danks, who rode to the extreme of his commission in every barbarous proceeding. in the cumberland insurrection ( ) he was suspected of being 'jack on both sides of the bush,' left that place in a small jigger bound for windsor, was taken ill on the passage, thrown down into the hold among the ballast, was taken out at windsor half dead, and had little better than the burial of a dog. he lived under a general dislike and died without any to regret his death." [ ] this letter will be found in the collections of the nova scotia historical society, vol. ii., pp. - . many of mr. graham's remarks savor of exaggeration and in reading the extract above this fact should not be lost sight of. saturday, the th of november, was an unhappy day for the poor acadians living at the little village of grimrose--the site of the modern village of gagetown. the story shall be told in monckton's own words:-- "nov'br ye th,--the party returns without any prisoner, having been at the village of grimrose which they found had been but lately deserted by the inhabitants. "give orders for landing. having got a body of about men on shore, we march to the further end of the village, being about a league. from whence, by the tracks we found, we judged that the inhabitants had but lately retired and drove off their cattle. here we found the lime that had been taken in a schooner in the spring, which they had landed as our pilots supposed to lighten the schooner, to get her higher up or to hide her in some creeke--as they supposed that they would certainly have carry'd the lime up to st. anns would the depth of the river have admitted of it. "it being late in the day i gave orders for burning the houses & barns, being in all about , and for destroying all the grain, of which there was a good deal, and everything else that could be of the least service to the inhabitants hereafter. having burnt and destroyed everything we marched backe and reimbarked. "as we were disembarking in the morning some canoes were seen crossing the head of grimerose river [gagetown creek], and near where we landed there had lately been some birch canoes made. much cleared land here--fine country. this village was settled by the inhabitants of beausejour, when drove off from thence in ." the day following the expedition continued up the river to isle mettis, or grimross island. the pilots now refused to take charge of the vessels any higher, as they did not think there was sufficient water to pass. the accuracy of their judgment was soon evident. in attempting to proceed capt. cobb ran his sloop aground, and several of the transports had a like experience, but the bottom being sandy all soon got off again without damage. monckton sent capt. rogers, late of the sloop "ulysses," and a mate of the man-of-war "squirrel," who had accompanied the expedition, to take soundings but they could find no practicable channel. the commanding officer now reluctantly abandoned the idea of proceeding on to st. annes. he might perhaps have attempted it by means of whale boats if the season had not been so far advanced and his provisions so nearly expended. after enumerating in his journal the difficulties that confronted him in the event of proceeding further he writes, "i therefore determined to return and destroy everything we could on our way down." meanwhile, by monckton's orders, captain mccurdy had been scouring the country with his rangers and had succeeded in killing some cattle which were divided among the transports. captains danks and brewer were sent with their companies to burn some houses near what is now upper gagetown. after burning the houses they marched their troops down the "neck" towards the village of grimrose and on their way came across three or four frenchmen who were driving off about forty head of cattle. the new englanders made a dash for this prize, the acadians escaped, but most of the cattle were destroyed. captain mccurdy was sent by monckton across the river to jemseg to destroy all the houses and grain that he might find in that quarter and to kill the cattle, and these orders were duly obeyed. monckton burnt the little settlement called villeray's (about three miles below gagetown), and as he came down the river sent a small party on shore to burn the historic settlement of the sieur de belleisle and his sons-in-law, the brothers robichaux, just above the mouth of belleisle bay. on the th day of november, after an absence of ten days, he arrived at the place above the falls where the troops had embarked. colonel monckton evidently was not very much elated at the success of his expedition, for a few days after his return he wrote to lieut. governor de lancey of new york: "i am sorry i can't give you a better acct. of our proceedings up this river. but it was attended with so many unavoidable delays and impediments that we were only able to go up about leagues, which is above leagues short of st. annes--where, if we had been able to have reached, it is by very certain accounts of no consequence, being only a village and not the least signs of a fort. "we burnt one village and some straggling houses and destroyed everything that could be the least serviceable to them, so that i should think that they will in the spring be obliged to retire to canada. the river, after passing the falls, is as fine a river as ever i saw, and when you get up about leagues the country is level, with fine woods of oak, beech, birch and walnut, and no underwood and the land able to produce anything. we have just finished a pretty good fort here, where the old french fort stood, which will be a footing for anything that may be thought proper to be undertaken hereafter." the marquis de vaudreuil, governor general of canada, was not ignorant of monckton's operations on the river st. john, but he was in no position to make any effectual resistance. in his letter to the french minister of november , , he states that the english were engaged in rebuilding the old fort at menagoueche; the indians of the river st. john had retired with the rev. father germain, their missionary to canada, where bigot, the intendant, had provided for their wintering, and the greater part of the acadians had also retired to canada. during colonel monckton's absence up the river work was continued at the fort, so that it must have been nearly finished at the time of his return. it received the name of fort frederick, and the remains of its ramparts may still be seen at "old fort" in carleton. in the plan of st. john harbor made by colonel robert morse of the royal engineers in , there is an outline of fort frederick very nearly identical as regards situation and general form with the sketch of fort menagoueche (or "fort de la riviere de st. jean") made in october, , by the sieur de villieu.[ ] we have further proof of an interesting nature that the situation and general plan of the new fort was identical with the old french fort in one of the letters of the marquis de vaudreuil, in which he tells us that about the time fort frederick was nearing completion a french canadian, kept there as a prisoner, made his escape, and on his return to canada described the new fort as exactly the same size as the old but much stronger, the terraces being at least ten feet in thickness, and upon the terraces were palisades ten feet high in the form of "chevaux de frise." the frenchman had counted cannons mounted of a calibre of l., and the english had told him they expected to mount in all cannons of l. and of l. [ ] the plan of villieu appears in dr. ganong's historic sites in new brunswick, p. . on the th november colonel monckton sent major scott to petitcodiac with the light infantry and rangers in quest of a french privateer that had been at the st. john river and which, with one of her prizes, was said to have taken shelter there. he was directed to seize the vessels and bring them off, together with any of the acadian inhabitants he could find, and to burn and destroy all the houses, barns, cattle, grain, etc. on his return he was to send captain dank's company to fort cumberland. major scott certainly acted with promptitude, for barely a week had expired when he returned to st. john with the privateer schooner and prize sloop, which he had found in two different creeks up the petitcodiac river. the parties sent out by the major destroyed upwards of houses and barns, much grain and a good many cattle. they captured prisoners, including women and children. the acadian seem to have made some resistance, however, and a lieutenant mccormack and three men of captain mccurdy's company and two men of the light infantry were captured by them. the troops that had served in the st. john river expedition were now distributed among the garrisons at fort cumberland, windsor, annapolis and halifax, with the exception of mccurdy's, stark's and brewer's companies of rangers and a small detachment of artillery, ordered to remain at fort frederick under command of major morris. this was a more considerable garrison than could well find accommodation there during the winter, but such was not monckton's intention, for he writes in his journal: "the fuel of the garrison not being as yet lay'd in, i leave the three companies of rangers, viz., mccurdy's, stark's, and brewer's, and have ordered that captain mccurdy's company should hutt and remain the winter, the other two after compleating the wood to come to halifax in the vessels i had left them." monckton sailed for halifax in the man-of-war "squirrel" on the st of november, and with him went the nd battalion of the royal american regiment of which he was the commander. in the month of january following, a tragic event took place at or near st. anne's, an account of which has been left us by our early historians, peter fisher and moses h. perley, in substance as follows: after the winter season had fairly set in, a party of the rangers at fort frederick, under captain mccurdy, set out on snow-shoes to reconnoitre the country and to ascertain the state of the french settlements up the river. the first night after their departure they encamped at kingston creek, not far from the belleisle, on a very steep hillside. that night captain mccurdy lost his life by the falling of a large birch tree, which one of the rangers cut down on the hillside--the tree came thundering down the mountain and killed the captain instantly, lieutenant moses hazen[ ] succeeded to the command, and the party continued up the river to st. ann's point (now fredericton), where they found quite a town. they set fire to the chapel and other buildings, but a number of the french settlers gathered together, whereupon the rangers retreated, and, being hotly pursued committed several atrocious acts upon the people who fell in their way, to prevent their giving information. by reversing their snow-shoes and making forced marches they got back safely to st. john. [ ] moses hazen was an older brother of william hazen, who settled at st. john. he distinguished himself under gen. wolfe on the plains of abraham. in the american revolution he fought against the british, raised a corps known as "hazen's own," and became a major general in the american army. this story, considerably modified in some of its details, finds confirmation from a variety of sources. ( ) sir jeffery amherst, commander of the forces serving in america, writes in a letter to governor lawrence, "you will have heard of the accident poor capt. mccurdy met with as likewise of the success of his lieutenant in demolishing the settlements at st. anne's: on the recommendation of major scott i have preferred lieut. hazen to capt. mccurdy's company." in a subsequent letter amherst says: "major morris sent me the particulars of the scouting party and i gave a commission to lieut hazen, as i thought he deserved it. i am sorry to say what i have since heard of that affair has sullied his merit with me as i shall always disapprove of killing women and helpless children. poor mccurdy is a loss, he was a good man in his post." in another letter amherst describes this sad affair more fully. see appendix. ( ) further confirmation of the charge of barbarity is found in the journal of rev. jacob bailey[ ] of pownalboro, maine. this gentleman had occasion to lodge at norwood's inn, in the town of lynn, massachusetts, on the night of dec'r , , and speaking of the company he found there says: "we had among us a soldier belonging to capt. hazen's company of rangers, who declared that several frenchmen were barbarously murdered by them, after quarters were given, and the villain added, i suppose to show his importance, that he 'split the head of one asunder, after he fell on his knees to implore mercy.' a specimen of new england clemency!" [ ] rev. jacob bailey was a prominent loyalist during the american revolution, and afterwards rector of annapolis. n. s. ( ). a statement is to be found in a dispatch of the marquis de vaudreuil, dated may , , that a number of acadians living at the river st. john were surprised on the night of the - january, , by a detachment of new england troops who burned their houses, carried off twenty-three prisoners and killed two women and four children, whose scalps they bore away. ( ). still further light is thrown upon this transaction by some notes appended to the names of certain acadians, who had served as officers of militia in acadia, and who were living in at cherbourg. we learn that the sieur joseph bellefontaine had once owned a large tract of land on the river st. john, near st. anne's, and that he was appointed major of the militia on the river by order of the marquis de la galissonniere, april , , and always performed his duties with fidelity until made a prisoner by the enemy. at the time of the mid-winter raid on st. anne's he had the misery of seeing one of his daughters with three of her children massacred before his eyes by the english, who desired by this act of cruelty and the fear of similar treatment to compel him to take their side. on his refusal he barely escaped a like fate by his flight into the woods, carrying with him two other children of the same daughter. the young mother so ruthlessly slain was nastasie bellefontaine, wife of eustache pare. the other victims of this tragedy of the wilderness were the wife and child of michel bellefontaine--a son of joseph bellefontaine. this poor fellow had the anguish of beholding his wife and boy murdered before his eyes on his refusal to side with the english. the village of st. anne's was left in a state of desolation. moses perley says that when the advance party of the maugerville colony arrived at st. anne's point in , they found the whole of what is now the town plat of fredericton cleared for about ten rods back from the bank and they saw the ruins of a very considerable settlement. the houses had been burned and the cultivated land was fast relapsing into a wilderness state. nevertheless the early english settlers reaped some advantage from the improvements made by the acadians, for we learn from charles morris' description of the river in , that at the site of the old french settlement at st. anne's point there was about five hundred acres of cleared upland in english grass from whence the inhabitants of maugerville got the chief part of their hay for their stock. "they inform me," says mr. morris, "that it produces about a load and a half to an acre." he adds, "the french houses are all burnt and destroyed." an interesting incident connected with the french occupation was related many years ago by the grandmother of the late judge fisher to one of her descendants. this good old lady came to st. anne's in the fall of with the loyalists. not very many months after their arrival, there was so great a scarcity of provisions that the unfortunate people in some cases were obliged to dig up the potatoes they had planted and eat them. as the season advanced their hearts were cheered by the discovery of some large patches of pure white beans, marked with a black cross. they had been planted by the french, but were now growing wild. in their joy at this fortunate discovery the settlers called them "the staff of life and hope of the starving." mrs. fisher says she planted some of these beans with her own hands and that the seed was preserved in her family for many years. the close of the year brought its anxieties to colonel mariot arbuthnot, who had succeeded major morris as commandant at fort frederick. quebec had fallen and the long and costly struggle between england and france for the possession of canada and acadia had terminated in favor of england. the massachusetts troops in garrison at fort frederick expected to be now relieved, as their period of enlistment had expired and the crisis of the war was over. but unfortunately for them, general amherst at crown point found the force at his disposal insufficient, he could not spare a man, and monckton, who commanded at quebec, was in precisely the same predicament. lawrence at halifax had no troops at his disposal. unless, therefore, the massachusetts men remained fort frederick would be left without a garrison. in this emergency the massachusetts legislature took the responsibility of extending the period of enlistment of the troops of their colony, at the same time voting money necessary to provide them with beds and other comforts for the approaching winter. general amherst strongly commended the patriotic action of the legislature, and wrote to governor lawrence, "they have judged very rightly that the abandoning any of the garrisons may be attended with most fatal consequences to this country; and as they have made a necessary provision for the men to continue during the winter, if the men do not stay and serve voluntarily, they must be compelled to it by force." evidently the men remained with great reluctance, for the following spring we find the governor of massachusetts writing to governor lawrence, "i find our people who are doing duty in your garrison--notwithstanding the favor and attention this province has shown them for continuing their services through the winter, and notwithstanding the great encouragement given to those who would continue--have worked themselves up to such a temper of dissatisfaction that they have long ago threatened to come off, if not relieved." this threat was not meaningless for the governor goes on to say "already seventy men in one schooner and about eighty in another have openly come off from fort frederick at st. john's." the conduct of these massachusetts rangers was a source of mortification to lieut. governor hutchinson, who speaks of "the unwarrantable behaviour of the garrison at st. john's river, all of whom have deserted their post except men and the continuation of those forty seems to be precarious." steps were at once taken to enlist a fresh detachment for service at fort frederick. the conduct of the garrison was not unnatural, although from a military point of view it was inexcusable. the men had enlisted for a great and, as the event proved, a final struggle with france for supremacy in north america. with the downfall of louisbourg and quebec the crisis had passed. the period of their enlistment had expired, what right had the assembly of massachusetts to prolong it? why should they remain? so they reasoned. meanwhile garrison duty at fort frederick was found to be extremely monotonous. the country was deserted, for the few habitations that once existed in the vicinity of the fort had been abandoned and destroyed when the french fled up the river, and no english settlers had as yet appeared. amidst their privations and the loneliness of their situation the charms of their own firesides seemed peculiarly inviting. most probably, too, the fort and barracks were little more than habitable in consequence of the havoc wrought by a terrible storm on the night of the - november, . this storm was the most violent that had till then been known, and from all accounts must at least have rivalled the famous "saxby" gale of . the tide attained a height of six feet above the ordinary, and huge waves, driven by the storm, broke through the dykes at the head of the bay of fundy, flooding the marsh lands reclaimed by the acadians. much damage was done along the coast, thousands of trees were blown down all over the country, while near the coastline the forest was levelled as with a scythe. a considerable part of fort frederick was washed away by the storm and lieutenant winckworth tonge, of the engineers, was sent with a party of men to repair it and put it in the most defensible state the situation would allow, taking such tools and materials from fort cumberland as were needed. he found the condition of the fort even worse than he had anticipated. governor lawrence consulted general amherst as to what should be done, and in answer the general wrote: "by lt. tonge's report to you of the state of the works at fort frederick, it must doubtless undergo great alterations to put it in a proper state of defence, but as this will require many more hands than you can provide at present, we must for the time being rest satisfied with the work you have ordered, especially as the line of strong pallisadoes you mention will secure it against any insult for the present." colonel arbuthnot's anxieties were not confined to tidal waves and the discontents of his garrison. about the end of october a party of some two hundred acadians came down the river to fort frederick and presented to him a certificate of their having taken the oath of allegiance to the english sovereign before judge cramahe, at quebec; also an order signed by general monckton giving them permission to return to their former habitations. whether these acadians were old inhabitants of the river, or fugitives who had taken refuge there at the time of the expulsion is not very clear. lawrence surmised that the certificates had been obtained from judge cramahe on the supposition that the people belonged to some river or place in canada known as st. johns, and not to the river st. john in nova scotia, and that they never could have had any sort of permission from monckton to settle in acadia. the abbe casgrain comments severely on the course pursued by governor lawrence on this occasion: "not being able," he says, "to dispute the genuineness of the letters of monckton and cramahe, lawrence claimed that the acadians could only have obtained them by fraud, and he decided with his council, always ready to do his bidding, that they should be regarded as prisoners of war and transported as soon as possible to england. he took care not to disclose this resolution in order to keep them securely at the fort, and to have them ready to his hand when ships should arrive to transport them. this precaution was almost superfluous for the acadians, having exhausted their last resources, were no longer in a state to return to the woods where they would have died of hunger." evidently it was part of the settled policy of lawrence and his advisers to keep the acadians out of the province and to people it with english speaking inhabitants, and with this policy general amherst seems to have been in accord, for he wrote the governor of nova scotia, "the pass you mention the two hundred inhabitants of st. john's river to have from mr. monckton, was by no means meant or understood to give the french any right to those lands; and you have done perfectly right not to suffer them to continue there, and you will be equally right in sending them, when an opportunity offers, to europe as prisoners of war." and yet it was very natural that, after the surrender of quebec, the acadians should believe that upon accepting the new regime and taking the oath of allegiance to the king of great britain they would be treated in the same way as the french canadians. the abbe casgrain says, not without reason, that the acadians had an even greater right than the canadians to clemency at the hands of their conquerors as their sufferings were greater: ["ils y avaient d'autant plus de droit qu'ils avaient plus souffert."] the expulsion at so late a period as this of two hundred acadians from the valley of the river st. john, where they had vainly hoped to remain in peace, is an incident of some importance. there is an unpublished letter of the jesuit missionary germain to the marquis de vaudreuil, written at aukpaque on the river st. john, under date february , , which is of some interest in this connection. "i arrived at the river st. john," writes father germain, "on all saints day (nov. , ), where i unfortunately found all the inhabitants had gone down to the english fort with their families, which made me resolve to go and join them, as i did eight days afterwards, with the intention of accompanying them wherever they might be sent in order to help them--some to die as christians in the transport ships and others to be of good cheer in the calamity that has befallen them as it did their brethren who are exiles in new england. but by a stroke of providence, monsieur coquart, missionary to the french, arrived, and i desired the commandant to give me leave to retire which he granted together with a passport permitting me to remain at the priests' house in my mission where i am now."[ ] [ ] i am indebted to placide p. gaudet for the above extract. father germain was the missionary of the indians, while coquart seems to have ministered to the acadians. the latter was a "secular priest," or one not connected with any religious order.--w. o. r. colonel arbuthnot had reported to governor lawrence that the acadians begged leave to remain upon their lands on their promise to be faithful and true to his majesty's government. to this he made answer that they must come down to the fort and remain there till he could apply to the governor to know what should be done; they came down accordingly, and were to remain at the fort until his excellency's pleasure should be known. the poor acadians were represented to be in a starving condition. their case came before the governor and council for consideration on the th november, at a meeting held at the governor's house in halifax, and the decision arrived at was this: "the council are of opinion, and do advise that his excellency do take the earliest opportunity of hiring vessels for having them immediately transported to halifax, as prisoners of war, until they can be sent to england; and that the two priests be likewise removed out of the province." the resolve of the council seems to have been carried into effect. in the month of january, lawrence sent to the river st. john for the french inhabitants who, to the number of , were brought to halifax until he could send them to england. colonel arbuthnot was the agent employed in collecting these unfortunate people and sending them to halifax, and being a gentleman of a humane disposition he doubtless found his task a most uncongenial one. among his assistants was joseph winniett,[ ] a member for annapolis royal in the nova scotia house of assembly. [ ] this gentleman afterwards received an order from mr. bulkeley, the provincial secretary, to take for his own use one of the french boats "forfeited to the government by the acadians that were at annapolis," as a reward for his services in going up the river st. john and assisting colonel arbuthnot in bringing in the french. winniett had a violent altercation with captain sinclair of the annapolis garrison about this boat. see murdoch's hist. of n. s., vol. ii., p. . chapter xiv. aukpaque, the village at the head of the tide. on the west bank of the st. john, about six miles above the city of fredericton, is the site of the old indian village of aukpaque. it looks out upon a charming panorama of interval and islands, amidst which the river creeps lazily with many windings. in the background across the river there rises the steep slope of currie's mountain, volcanic in its origin. weird legends connected with this mountain have been handed down from ancient days, which the indian guides will sometimes rehearse when they find appreciative listeners. the surroundings of aukpaque are indeed very beautiful, and as long ago as they won the admiration of monseigneur st. vallier, who, after describing the extent and varied scenery of the river, its smoothly flowing waters and fertile islands embosomed by the tide, says: "some fine settlements might be made between medoctec and jemseg, especially at a certain place which we have named sainte marie, where the river enlarges and the waters are divided by a large number of islands that apparently would be very fertile if cultivated. a mission for the savages would be well placed there; the land has not as yet any owner in particular, neither the king nor the governor having made a grant to any one." evidently there was not at this time any indian village at aukpaque, but it is probable the place was occasionally used as a camping ground. in the course of the next half century, however, there grew into existence a village that rivalled and in time eclipsed the more ancient village of medoctec. doubtless the presence of the french on the lower st. john, and the establishment of villebon's fort, at the mouth of the nashwaak, served to draw the savages in that direction. at the time of monseigneur st. vallier's visit they were beginning very generally to embrace christianity. the indians and the acadians were visited occasionally by claude moireau, a recollet missionary, who went up the river as far at least as fort jemseg where, in july, , he baptized nine indian children of ages varying from five months to nineteen years. their names, with those of their parents and sponsors, are duly recorded in his register. one or two of the entries are here inserted as of historic interest:-- "the year of grace , the july: i have baptized at jemseg, according to the forms of our holy church, claude, son of soksim, savage, and of apolline kedekouit, christian, aged years, and named at the font claude by claude petipas, notary royal, and isabella petipas, his sponsors. [signed] claude moireau, recol. "the same day baptized marie, sauvagesse, aged one year, daughter of tobuk and of marie noktomkiache, christian, and named at the font marie by rene lambert and catherine bugaret, her sponsors. [signed] cl. moireau, recol." two baptisms in the following year, one at jemseg and the other at st. john, are of equal interest:-- "at jemsek, the year of grace , the may, have baptized according to the forms of our holy church, marie anne denis, aged months, daughter of sieur richard denis, esquire, and of anne partarabego, sauvagesse, and has been held at the font by damoiselle marie chartier, dame de marson, her godmother, who has named her marie anne. [signed] claude moireau, recol. "at menagoueck, the year of grace , the june, have baptized according to the forms of the church, jeanne guidry, child of claude guirdy dit la verdure and of keskoua, sauvagesse, who has been held at the font by claude petipas and jeanne de la tour, wife of martignon, her sponsors, who have named her jeanne. [signed] claude moireau, recol. a little later father simon of the recollet order became the missionary of the indians on the river with headquarters at medoctec. some account of his interesting personality and of his zealous labors will be found in a previous chapter. after his death the work among the indians passed into the hands of the jesuit missionary, joseph aubery, and his successors jean baptiste loyard, jean p. danielou and charles germain. the whole river was included in the mission and the priest had many journeys to make, but medoctec, as the principal village, was for years the headquarters of the mission. this was so down to the time of loyard's death. his successor, danielou, ministered to the indians of medoctec, also, as is shown by the presence of his name on the slate-stone tablet of the medoctec chapel. but it is probable that danielou was frequently at aukpaque, and he certainly had the spiritual oversight of the acadians at st. anne's point. [illustration: inscription on medoctec stone] the indians of the river st. john were regarded by the english as the most powerful and warlike tribe of acadia and the governor of nova scotia endeavored to gain their good-will, and to induce them to adhere to the treaty made with the eastern tribes by the authorities of new england and nova scotia in . in the year lieut. governor armstrong of nova scotia sent paul mascarene to boston to treat with governor belcher about the erection of a "truck-house" for the indian trade on the st. john river, and mascarene was instructed to recommend the lands on the st. john to the people of massachusetts as a very desirable place of settlement. belcher expressed the opinion that unless the crown would build a fort at the mouth of the river, the "truck-house" project would fail, but in case of its erection massachusetts would probably send a sloop with goods to the indians spring and fall. however the idea of an english post at the mouth of the st. john remained in abeyance until the surrender of beausejour. so far as known to the author, the first mention of the indian village of aukpaque occurs in connection with the census of which states that fifteen french families reside below the "village d'ecoupay." from this time onward there are frequent references to aukpaque, some of which are indicated in the foot-note below.[ ] [ ] probably the name of no place in new brunswick has appeared in so many varied forms as that of this indian village. the list that follows does not pretend to be exhaustive, but will suffice for illustration:-- ( .) ecoupay--census, . ( .) ocpaque--lt.-gov. armstrong's letter, . ( .) apoge--capt. pote's journal, . ( .) octpagh--treaty proceedings at halifax, . ( .) ekauba--report of abbe de l'isle-dieu, . ( .) ocpaque--letter of james simonds, . ( .) aughpack--map of charles morris, . ( .) ekouipahag--register of l'abbe bailly, . ( .) aughpaugh--letter of james simonds, . ( .) ekoupahag--indian negotiations at halifax, . ( .) okpaak--report of rev. t. wood's, . ( .) augpeake--letter lt. gov. franklin, . ( .) auque pawhaque--letter of indians to major studholme, . ( .) aupaque--letter of gen'l haldimand, . oak park--letter of sam'l peabody, , also report of exploration committee to major studholme, . ( .) ek-pa-hawk--modern indians. the little colony of fifteen families mentioned in the census of seems to have settled in the vicinity of st. anne's point a few years previously. it was a typical acadian hamlet. its people were of simple habits and wished to live in peace. naturally they were loyal to their mother country and devout members of their mother church. but france--sunny france--with all her marvellous resources and splendid opportunities, proved an unworthy mother. and what has been the result? a colonial empire shrunken almost to insignificance. and even if her colonial empire were today what it was in the days of louis xiv, the colonies would be as empty cradles for which there are no children. the progress and development of the acadians of the maritime provinces and of the french canadians of the dominion tell what france might have been if her people had been true to high ideals. the colony of new france was never supported as it should have been. while new england was making rapid progress and the tide of immigration set strongly in that direction, canada was left to take care of itself. after the days of frontenac the governors of quebec were haunted by the fear of encroachments on their territory on the part of the people to the south. it became their policy to employ the indians and acadians as buttresses against the inflowing tide of the anglo-saxons. the acadians would fain have lived in peace but, alas the trend of events left little room for neutrality. the maliseets of the st. john were naturally disposed to resent the intrusion of the whites on their hunting grounds, and the french encouraged this sentiment as regards any advance made by the english. in the year , francis germaine, "chief of ockpaque," with one of his captains came to annapolis royal to complain of the conduct of some english surveyors, whom they seem to have regarded as trespassers on their lands. for some reason they missed seeing the governor, but he wrote them a very friendly letter, assuring them of his favor and protection. this, however, did not satisfy the indians, for a few months afterwards they interfered with the loading of a vessel that had been sent to st. john for limestone by the ordnance storekeeper at annapolis and robbed the sailors of their clothes and provisions, claiming that the lands and quarries belonged to them. not long afterwards the governor of nova scotia addressed a letter to "the reverend father danilou, priest of st. john's river," complaining that a party of maliseets under thoma, their chief, had surprised, stephen jones, an english trader, as he lay sleeping aboard his vessel at piziquid [windsor, n. s.] and robbed him of goods to the value of £ and of his book of accounts valued at £ more, and he hoped the missionary would use his influence to induce the indians to keep the peace and, if possible, obtain redress for the unfortunate man they had robbed. two of the principal acadians, living at or near st. ann's, mich'l bergeron and joseph bellefontaine, had an interview with governor armstrong in , and by request gave him a list of the acadians then living on the river, numbering in all souls, besides the missionary jean pierre danielou. the governor ordered the acadians to make their submission to the british government and not to receive any missionary without his approbation. it does not appear, however, that he was on unfriendly terms with danielou, who came to annapolis the next year and exercised the functions of his ministry. under the care of danielou's successor germain, the acadians and their savage allies had a chequered experience indeed, but this has been already related in the previous chapters. at the time of monckton's invasion of the river in most of the indians abandoned the village of aukpaque and retired with their missionary, germain, to canada, but they returned after the capture of quebec and some of their chiefs went to fort frederick and took the oath of allegiance to the english monarch. colonel arbuthnot was directed to encourage them to come to halifax and make a treaty of peace and such arrangements as were necessary for trade with the english. during the session of the house of assembly held at halifax in the winter of - , governor lawrence urged the house to make provision for the establishment of "truck-houses" for the indians; he also recommended legislation for the purpose of preventing private trade with them, and the assembly soon afterwards passed an act for that purpose. on the th of february, colonel arbuthnot came to halifax from fort frederick, with two indian chiefs of the passamaquoddy tribe, to make peace on the basis of the old indian treaty of . representatives of the st. john river tribe arrived a few days later. the indians appeared before the governor and council with an interpreter. they were received with every courtesy and presented with gold lace blankets, laced hats, etc. it was agreed that the treaty should be prepared in english and french, that the chiefs should be sent back in a vessel to st. john, and that col. arbuthnot should accompany them, taking the treaty with him to be ratified. after a fortnight's deliberation the treaty was signed, on the rd february, by ballomy glode, chief of the st. john indians, and michel neptune, chief of the passamaquoddies. the treaty was based on those of and , with an additional engagement on the part of the indians not to aid the enemies of the english, to confine their traffic to the truck-house at fort frederick and to leave three of each tribe there as hostages to ensure performance of the articles of the treaty. in order the better to carry out the provisions of this treaty, and of similar treaties made at this time with the different tribes of acadia, benjamin gerrish was appointed indian commissary. gerrish agreed to buy goods and sell them to the indians for furs, he to receive per cent on goods purchased and - / per cent on furs sold, and the prices to be so arranged that the indians could obtain their goods at least per cent cheaper than hitherto. at their conference with the governor and his council the indians agreed upon a tariff of prices[ ] for the indian trade, the unit of value to be one pound of the fur of the spring beaver, commonly known as "one beaver," equivalent in value to a dollar, or five shillings. under the tariff the following articles were to be sold to the indians at the following prices: large blanket, "beavers"; yards stroud, "beavers"; pounds pork, "beaver"; pounds flour, "beaver"; - / gallons molasses, "beaver"; gallons rum, "beaver"; and other articles in proportion. [ ] this tariff of prices is given in full in murdoch's hist. of nova scotia, vol. ii., p. . furs and skins sold by the indians at the "truck-house" were to be valued by the same standard: moose skin, - / "beavers"; bear skin, - / "beavers"; sable skins, "beaver"; mink skins, "beaver"; ermine skins, "beaver"; silver fox skin, - / "beavers," and so on for furs and skins of all descriptions. by substituting the cash value for the value in "beavers," we shall obtain figures that would amaze the furrier of modern days and prove eminently satisfactory to the purchaser, for example: bear skin (large and good), $ . ; moose skin (large), $ . ; luciffee (large), $ . ; silver fox, $ . ; black fox, $ . ; red fox, cts.; otter, $ . ; mink, cts.; musquash, cts. and yet these prices, ridiculously low as they appear, were considerably better than the indians had received from the french traders. it was no doubt on such terms as these that messrs. simonds, white and hazen traded with the indians after they came to st. john. benjamin gerrish soon afterwards took steps to establish the "truck-house" promised the indians, and by order in council of july , , captain doggett was instructed to proceed directly to the river st. john and deliver the stores that mr. gerrish had shipped on board his vessel for the truck-master at fort frederick. colonel arbuthnot reported that the indians behaved well and came to the fort to trade. the delegates from the river st. john, who went to halifax, seem to have acted in accordance with the advice of their missionary germain, who accepted the logic of events after the fall of quebec and advised the indians to submit to their conquerors. the establishment of a "truck-house" at st. john was of advantage to them and the missionary determined to cultivate friendly relations with the english. governor lawrence reported that he had induced the assembly of nova scotia to pass a law, with severe penalties, against private trading with the indians. the provisions of this act, however, found little favor with the lords of trade, by whom it was considered "an improper and unreasonable restraint upon trade." their objection found expression in the proclamation of george iii., at the court of st. james, oct. , :-- "we do by the advice of our privy council declare and enjoin that the trade with the said indians shall be free and open to all our subjects whatever, provided that every person who may incline to trade with the said indians do take out a license for carrying on such trade from the governor or commander-in-chief of any of our colonies where such person shall reside, and also give security to observe such regulations as we shall at any time think fit to direct or appoint." the proclamation required the governor to issue such licenses without fee or reward, the license to be void and the security forfeited if the person to whom it was granted failed to observe the regulations prescribed. we have now arrived at the period when the first permanent english settlement was to be made on the st. john river, but before proceeding to the consideration of that event a glance at the general situation on the river is necessary. the only foot-hold the english had as yet obtained was at fort frederick on the west side of st. john harbor. a considerable number of acadians still lingered furtively in their hiding places up the river, the majority of them near the indian village of aukpaque. for their benefit, as well as that of the savages, the missionary germain desired to remain at his post. he accordingly made overtures to the nova scotia authorities to be allowed to continue his ministrations, promising to use his influence in the interests of peace. to this proposition the governor and council cheerfully assented, promising the missionary a stipend of £ . a year or two afterwards he wrote acknowledging the receipt of his salary and stating it was his desire to inspire the indians with the respect due to the government. he complained of their irregularities and says that in spite of his efforts to promote harmony he feared "they will shortly pay no regard to what he says." in kidder's "military operations in eastern maine and nova scotia during the revolution," the statement is made that aukpaque signifies a beautiful expanding of the river occasioned by numerous islands, but, while this is perfectly correct as descriptive of the locality, it is more probable that aukpaque--or its indian equivalent ek-pa-hawk--means "the head of the tide," or beginning of swift water. kidder speaks of the site of aukpaque as "almost unknown and difficult to locate." commenting on this statement, the late sir john c. allen (whose grandfather, colonel isaac allen, purchased of the indians the site of the village of aukpaque), makes the following remark:-- "it is an error to suppose that there is any difficulty in locating aukpaque. it is laid down, under the name opack, on a plan in the crown lands office in fredericton of a survey of land in the old township of sunbury while this province formed a part of nova scotia. in addition to this there are several persons living who can point out the place that was used as the indian burial ground and who remember that a large piece of cleared land adjacent to it and separated from it by a deep ravine, being a part of the tract of land reserved for the indians, was formerly known as the 'chapel field'--no doubt from the fact that the chapel of the indian settlement had stood upon it. there is also further evidence in the plan of the survey of the lands in the parish of kingsclear, the grant of which issued in , upon which a cross is marked on this lot of land, which is well known to indicate the site of a church or chapel. there is very little doubt that at the time of the survey the chapel, or the remains of it, were standing, as the indians had been in occupation of the land till within a few years of that time." we may add that the claim of the indians to the lands in the vicinity of their village was early recognized by the government of nova scotia, and when the first grant of a large tract of the surrounding country was made in to thomas falconer and sixty-six other land speculators, there was expressly reserved for the indians " acres, including a church and burying ground at aughpack, and four acres for a burying ground at st. ann's point, and the island called indian (or savage) island." this island is probably that mentioned in by the abbe de l'isle dieu as "l'isle d'ecouba," the residence of the missionary charles germain. the situation of aukpaque is shown in the accompanying sketch:-- [illustration: plan of aukpaque and its surroundings.] although the indians were ostensibly at peace with the english they viewed them with suspicion, and were jealous of any infringement of their aboriginal rights. after the erection of fort frederick they seem, for the most part, to have abandoned the lower part of the river, and charles morris tells us that about the year they burned much of the timber along the long reach and on both sides of the washademoak and probably at other places. when the exploring party of the maugerville colony arrived at st. anne's point in and were about to begin their survey, a large party of indians came down from their priest's residence, with his interpreter, their faces painted in divers colors and figures, and dressed in their war habits. the chiefs informed the adventurers that they were trespassers on their rights, that the country belonged to them, and unless they retired immediately they would compel them. the chiefs claimed that they had some time before had a conference with governor lawrence and had consented that the english should settle the country up as far as grimross. the surveyors promised to remove their camp towards grimross. this answer did not appear to fully satisfy the indians, but they made no reply. the settlement of the new england people, in consequence of the attitude of the indians, did not embrace st. anne's point as originally intended. plans of the river st. john were made by the hon. charles morris, surveyor general of nova scotia, as early as the year . a little later he wrote an interesting description of the river. he describes "aughpack" as about seven miles from st. anne's, and says the acadians had settlements upon the uplands between the two places but drew their subsistence from the cultivation of the intervals and islands. at aukpaque was the indian church and the residence of the french missionary. their church and buildings adjoining had been demolished by the indians themselves. the island opposite aukpaque, called indian island, was the place where the indians of the river made their annual rendezvous. "on this island," adds mr. morris, "is their town, consisting of forty mean houses, or wigwams, built with slender poles and covered with bark. in the centre of the town is the grand council chamber constructed after the same manner as the other houses." the reason for the destruction by the indians of their church we need not go far to seek. in the summer of the year three chiefs came to halifax to inquire why father germain had been removed from his post. they were told that he had gone of his own accord to quebec and had been detained there by general murray, and that the government of nova scotia were not responsible for it. they then desired lieutenant governor belcher to provide them with another priest, which he promised to do. the indians were satisfied and departed with their usual presents. the intention of the lieutenant governor was frustrated by an order from the lords of trade forbidding the employment of a french missionary. governor wilmot regretted this action as likely to confirm the indians in their notion of the english as "a people of dissimulation and artifice who will deceive and deprive them of their salvation." he thought it better to use the indians generously and mentions the fact of their having lately burned their church, by direction of the priest detained at quebec, as a proof of their devotion to their religious guides. the site of the old church at aukpaque was in all probability the old "chapel field" mentioned by sir john c. allen. hard by, on the other side of a little ravine, is the old burial ground of the acadians and indians. one of the descendants of the acadians, who visited the spot a few years ago, writes mournfully of this little cemetery: "not a stone, not a cross, not even an enclosure to divide it from other fields; here in this corner of the world, remote and almost unknown, repose the ashes of some of our ancestors, the first cultivators of the soil of madawaska. freed from all the troubles and vicissitudes of the past they hear only the gentle, harmonious murmur of the waters of la riviere st. jean, the river they loved so well even in the days of their misfortune." chapter xv. the first english settlers. the erection of fort frederick, in the autumn of , gave the english a permanent foothold on the river st. john, which possibly was rendered a little more secure by the destruction of the acadian settlements at grimross and st. annes, and the subsequent removal by colonel arbuthnot of a large number of the french inhabitants. shortly after the acadian expulsion, the lords of trade and plantations urged governor lawrence to re-people the lands vacated by the french with settlers from new england. the idea was quite in accord with the governor's own mind, but he was obliged to defer it for a season. in the existing state of affairs he could not spare the troops necessary to defend new settlements, and nothing was practicable until the country should be possessed in peace. however, very shortly after monckton's occupation of the st. john river lawrence issued the first of his celebrated proclamations, offering favorable terms to any industrious settlers from new england, who would remove to nova scotia and cultivate the lands vacated by the french, or other ungranted lands. the proclamation stated that proposals on behalf of intending settlers would be received by thomas hancock at boston, and by mesrs. de lancey and watts at new york, and by them transmitted to the governor of nova scotia. this proclamation had the effect of directing attention to the river st. john. young and adventurous spirits soon came to the fore anxious to be the pioneers of civilization in the wilds of nova scotia. but first they wished to know: what terms of encouragement would be offered? how much land each person would get? what quit-rents and taxes would be required? what constitution of government prevailed, and what freedom in religion? in answer to their inquiries a second proclamation was issued, in which it was declared that townships were to consist of , acres (about miles square) and were to include the best lands, and rivers in their vicinity. the government was described as similar to that of the neighboring colonies, the legislature consisting of a governor, council and assembly and every township, so soon as it should consist of fifty families, would be entitled to send two representatives to the assembly. the courts of justice were similar to those of massachusetts, connecticut and the other northern colonies, and full liberty of conscience was secured to persons of all persuasions, "papists" excepted, by the royal instructions and a late act of the assembly. as yet no taxes had been imposed or fees exacted on grants. forts garrisoned with troops were established in the neighborhood of the lands it was proposed to settle. the lords of trade approved of governor lawrence's proceedings in settling the province, and at the same time desired that land should be reserved "as a reward and provision for such officers and soldiers as might be disbanded in america upon a peace." this led the governor to desist from making further grants of the cleared lands to ordinary settlers. he did not, however, anticipate much benefit to the province in consequence of the attempt to people it with disbanded british soldiers, and he wrote to the lords of trade: "according to my ideas of the military, which i offer with all possible deference and submission, they are the least qualified, from their occupation as soldiers, of any men living to establish new countries, where they must encounter difficulties with which they are altogether unacquainted; and i am the rather convinced of it, as every soldier that has come into this province since the establishment of halifax, has either quitted it or become a dramseller." soon after the treaty of paris, a proclamation of george iii. (dated at the court of st. james, oct. , ) signified the royal sense and approbation of the conduct of the officers and soldiers of the army, and directed the governors of the several provinces to grant, without fee or reward, to disbanded officers and soldiers who had served in north america during the late war and were actually residing there, lands in the following proportions:-- to every field officer, , acres. to every captain, , acres. to every subaltern or staff officer, , acres. to every non-commissioned officer, acres. to every private man, acres. like grants of land were to be made to retired officers of the navy who had served on board a ship of war at the reduction of louisbourg and quebec. petitions and memorials of retired officers of the army and navy who were desirous of obtaining lands in nova scotia as a reward for their services, now flowed in upon the provincial and imperial authorities. the desire to obtain land on the river st. john became so general that government officials, merchants and professional men joined in the general scramble. the result was not only detrimental to the best interests of the country, but in many cases disastrous to the speculators themselves. the ideas of some of the memorialists were by no means small. for example, in , sir allan mclean applied for , acres on the river st. john to enable him to plant a colony; and in the same year captains alexander hay,[ ] john sinclair, hugh debbeig,[ ] alex. baillie, robert g. bruce and j. f. w. desbarres applied for another immense tract on behalf of themselves and other officers. [ ] capt. alex. hay is said to have saved the life of the duke of cumberland, during the rebellion of . [ ] in des barres' splendid chart of st. john harbor, published according to act of parliament in , the well-known reed's point is called "point-debbeig." war with the french and indians had been so constant previous to the peace of , that a large proportion of the young men of new england had seen service in the "provincial regiments." to those who had held commissions the inducements contained in lawrence's proclamations were especially attractive. among the retired officers of the massachusetts regiments, who became interested in the river st. john at this time were francis peabody, william hazen, james white, james simonds, nicholas west and israel perley. captain francis peabody was somewhat older than the others; he had served with distinction in the late war, and is mentioned in parkman's "wolfe and montcalm" [p. ]. from the active part he took in settling the township of maugerville, as well as from his age and character, he must be regarded as the most prominent and influential person on the st. john river while he lived. he died in the year . three of his daughters married respectively james simonds, james white and jonathan leavitt. a few years ago the writer of this history had the good fortune to find, in an old rubbish heap, a letter of james simonds detailing the circumstances under which he came to take up his residence at st. john. "in the years and ," he says, "proclamations were published through the colonies which promised all the lands and possessions of the acadians, who had been removed, or any other lands lying within the province of nova scotia, to such as would become settlers there. in consequence of these proclamations i went through the greater part of nova scotia, in time of war, at great expense and at the risk of my life, in search of the best lands and situations, and having at length determined to settle at the river st. john, obtained a promise from government of a large tract of land for myself and brother richard, who was with me in several of my tours." the attention of mr. simonds may have been particularly called to st. john by the fact that his cousin, captain moses hazen, commanded the garrison at fort frederick in . it may be noted, in passing, that this post was occupied for the first two years after it was rebuilt by monckton, by the massachusetts troops. they were relieved by a company from one of the highland regiments. in the post was garrisoned by a detachment of the th regiment of foot under lieutenant gilfred studholme. the fort afterwards continued to be garrisoned by a company of british regulars under different commanders until , when the troops were withdrawn and the fort remained for several years under the nominal care of messrs. simonds and white. about the time james simonds decided to settle at st. john, the harbor was carefully surveyed by lieut. r. g. bruce of the engineers, whose plan is reproduced in the accompanying illustration. a glance will suffice to show that the rocky peninsular on the eastern side of the harbor, where the business part of the city stands today, was at that time uninhabited. the military post at fort frederick imparted a little life to the immediate surroundings but on the other side of the harbor everything remained in its virgin state, except at portland point, where there was a small clearing and the ruins of a feeble old french fort. the few acadians who once lingered there had fled before the english invaders, and only when some wandering savage pitched his wigwam on the shores of "men-ah-quesk," as he called it, was there any tenant save the fox, the bear or other wild forest creature. the rocky peninsular of east st. john with its crags and swamps was considered of so little value that it remained ungranted up to the time of the landing of the loyalists. in the words of james simonds it was "the worst of lands, if bogs, morasses and rocks may be called lands." [illustration: plan of the harbour of st. john in nova scotia, surveyed & sounded in september by r.g. bruce engr. scale yds to an inch] the circumstances under which james simonds made choice of the harbor of st. john, as the most promising place for an extensive trade, are detailed at some length in his evidence in the famous chancery suit which arose about the year in connection with the division of the lands of hazen, simonds and white, and occupied the attention of the courts for more than twenty years. it is chiefly from this source we learn the particulars that follow. james simonds was born in haverhill, massachusetts, in the year . after the death of his father, nathan simonds, and the settlement of his estate, finding the property falling to him to be inconsiderable, he set out in company with his younger brother richard to seek his fortune. in the course of the years to , different parts of the old province of nova scotia were visited, including the river st. john, with a view of ascertaining the most advantageous situation for the fur trade, fishery and other business. finding that the mouth of the st. john river was an admirable situation for trade with the indians, that the fishery in the vicinity was excellent, and that there was a large tract of marsh land, and lands that afforded great quantities of lime-stone adjacent to the harbor of st. john, mr. simonds eventually gave the preference to those lands on account of their situation and the privileges attached to them, and having previously obtained a promise from government of a grant of , acres in such part of the province as he might choose he with his brother richard took possession. in the month of may, , they burnt over the large marsh (east of the present city) and in the ensuing summer cut there a quantity of wild hay. it was their intention immediately to begin stock raising, but they were disappointed in obtaining a vessel to bring from massachusetts the cattle they expected. they accordingly sold or made a present of the hay to captain francis peabody, who had recently come to st. john and built himself a house at portland point. this house is said to have had an oak frame, which was brought from newburyport. in it became the property of james simonds (captain peabody having moved up the river to maugerville) and later it was owned by james white. it was not an elaborate or expensive building[ ] but it had the honor of being the first home of an english speaking family on the st. john river. [ ] when the affairs of hazen, simonds and white were wound up some twenty-five years later the house was valued at £ . the situation of the new-comers at portland point would have been very insecure had it not been for the protection afforded by fort frederick across the harbor. the indians had not yet become accustomed to the idea of british supremacy. their natural allegiance--even after the downfall of quebec--was to "their old father the king of france." their prejudice against the english had been nurtured for generations and embittered by ruthless warfare, and we need not wonder that the coming of the first english settlers was viewed with a jealous eye. even the proximity of the garrison at fort frederick did not prevent the situation of james simonds and his associates from being very precarious, when the attitude of the indians was unfriendly. richard simonds, who died january , , lost his life in the defence of the property of the trading company when the savages were about to carry it off. while the brothers simonds were endeavoring to establish themselves at st. john, a settlement upon a more extensive scale was being projected by a number of people in the county of essex in massachusetts. an advertisement appeared in the "boston gazette and news-letter" of september , , notifying all of the signers under captain francis peabody for a township at st. john's river in nova scotia, to meet at the house of daniel ingalls, inn-holder in andover, on wednesday, the th day of october at o'clock a. m., in order to draw their lots, which were already laid out, and to choose an agent to go to halifax on their behalf and to attend to any matters that should be thought proper. the advertisement continues: "and whereas it was voted at the meeting on april th, , that each signer should pay by april th, twelve shillings for laying out their land and six shillings for building a mill thereon, and some signers have neglected payment, they must pay the amount at the next meeting or be excluded and others admitted in their place." the agent chosen at this meeting was captain francis peabody.[ ] [ ] beamish murdoch in his history of nova scotia, vol. ii, p. , refers to the settlement made at this time at maugerville and observes, "a mr. peabody was the principal inhabitant and agent for the english settlers." according to the late moses h. perley, whose well known and popular lectures on new brunswick history were delivered at the mechanics institute in , the government of massachusetts sent a small party to explore the country east of machias in . "the leader of that party," says mr. perley, "was israel perley, my grandfather, who was accompanied by men in the pay of massachusetts. they proceeded to machias by water, and there shouldering their knapsacks, they took a course through the woods, and succeeded in reaching the head waters of the river oromocto, which they descended to the st. john. they found the country a wide waste, and no obstacles, save what might be afforded by the indians, to its being at once occupied and settled, and with this report they returned to boston." the result of this report is seen in the organization of a company of would be settlers shortly afterwards. there is in the possession of the perley family at fredericton an old document that contains a brief account of the subsequent proceedings:-- "in the year a number of provincial officers and soldiers in new england who had served in several campaigns during the then french war agreed to form a settlement on st. john's river in nova scotia, for which purpose they sent one of their number to halifax, who obtained an order of survey for laying out a township in mile squares on any part of st. john's river (the whole being then a desolate wilderness). this township called maugerville was laid out in the year , and a number of settlers entered into it, encouraged by the king's proclamation for settling the lands in nova scotia, in which, among other things, was this clause, that people emigrating from the new england provinces to nova scotia should enjoy the same religious privileges as in new england. and in the above-mentioned order of survey was the following words--viz., 'you shall reserve four lots in the township for publick use, one as a glebe for the church of england, one for the dissenting protestants, one for the maintenance of a school, and one for the first settled minister in the place.' "these orders were strictly comply'd with, but finding difficulty in obtaining a grant of this township from the government of nova scotia on account of an order from england that those lands should be reserved for disbanded forces, the settlers did in the year draw up and forward a petition or memorial to the lords of trade and plantations."... in this memorial were set forth the services that captain peabody and his associates had rendered to their country in the late war, the expenses they had incurred and the inducements offered by the government of nova scotia to them to settle on the lands they had surveyed. the memorial was signed by francis peabody, john carleton, jacob barker, nicholas west and israel perley on behalf of themselves and other disbanded officers. this memorial was submitted by mr. peabody to the governor and council at halifax, who cordially approved of the contents and forwarded it to joshua mauger,[ ] the agent for the province in london, expressing their opinion that the officers and disbanded soldiers from new england, settled on the reserved lands on the st. john river, ought not to be removed. they would be of great use and their removal would cause their total ruin. the settlers earnestly solicited the influence of the agent in england to obtain a speedy answer to their memorial. he took the liveliest interest in their cause and largely through his efforts the lords of trade on the th december, , recommended that the memorial of the disbanded officers of the provincial forces be granted, and that they be confirmed in possession of the lands on which they have settled on the st. john river. the matter was finally settled in the court of st. james, the th day of february, , by the adoption of the following resolve on the part of king george the iii. and his council: "whereas the lords commissioners for trade and plantations have represented to his majesty that a memorial has been presented to him on behalf of several disbanded officers of his majesty's provincial forces in north america, setting forth that induced by several encouragements they have sold their lands in new england and settled themselves and families upon the st. john river in his majesty's province of nova scotia at the distance of miles from any other settlement and praying that the possession of the lands upon which they have settled themselves at a very great expense may be confirmed to them by his majesty: the governor of nova scotia is ordered to cause the land upon which they are settled to be laid out in a township consisting of , acres, miles square, one side to front on the river. also to reserve a site for a town with a sufficient number of lots, with reservations for a church, town-house, public quays and wharves and other public uses; the grants to be made in proportion to their ability and the number of persons in their families, but not to exceed , acres to one person. that a competent quantity of land be allotted for the maintenance of a minister and school-master and also one town lot to each of them in perpetuity." [ ] joshua mauger was a merchant from england who made his residence at halifax shortly after its founding by cornwallis in . he traded extensively in nova scotia and had contracts with government. he returned to england in , became agent there for the province of nova scotia and held a seat in parliament. for months the settlers of maugerville remained in a state of suspense and in much anxiety as to the fate of their memorial. they were naturally greatly relieved when the order of the king in council arrived confirming them in possession of the lands they had settled. the kindness and generosity of joshua mauger, who bore the expense of their appeal and exerted himself in their behalf, were fully appreciated, and as a tribute of respect and gratitude to their patron the settlers gave to their township the name of "maugerville." the township of maugerville was laid out early in the year by a party under israel perley their land surveyor. in the survey richard simonds acted as chain bearer and james simonds, who was one of the patentees of the township, also assisted, receiving the sum of £ for his services. the first published account of the founding of the maugerville settlement is that of peter fisher,[ ] printed by chubb & sears at st. john in , and a very readable account it is as the extracts that follow will show. [ ] peter fisher was the father of the late judge fisher and of l. peter fisher (for many years mayor of woodstock), and grandfather of w. shoves fisher of st. john. his penmanship was superior to that of some of his descendants, judging from the fac-simile of his signature that appears above. [illustration: signature peter fisher] under the title "a narrative of the proceedings of the first settlers at the river st. john, under the authority of the government of nova scotia," mr. fisher tells us that "in the year , a number of persons from the county of essex, province of massachusetts, presented a petition through their agent (francis peabody), to the government of nova scotia, for the grant of a township twelve miles square at the river saint john; they received a favorable answer and obtained full authority to survey a tract of that dimension, wherever it might be found fit for improvement. in consequence many of the applicants proceeded in the course of the winter and spring following to prepare for exploring the country and to survey their township; they provided a vessel for that purpose and on the th may, , embarked at newburyport and arrived in three days at the harbor of saint john. * * * * "the exploring and surveying party proceeded to view the lands, round the harbor and bay of saint john in a whale boat they brought with them, for they could not travel on the land on account of the multitude of fallen trees that had been torn up by the roots in a violent gale of wind nearly four years previous.[ ] the same gale extended as far up the river as the oromocto, and most of the country below that place was equally incumbered with the fallen trees. [ ] the exact date of this gale was nov. , . "after making all the discoveries that could be made near the harbor, it was the unanimous opinion that all the lands near that part of the country were unfit for their purpose and in about ten days from their first arrival they set out to view the country as far as saint anne, ninety miles up the river, where they expected to find an extensive body of cleared land that had been formerly improved by the french inhabitants. on their way they landed wherever they saw any appearance of improvement. all such spots as far up as mill creek[ ] were supposed not to exceed one hundred acres, most of which had been very roughly cleared. [ ] just below the town plot of fredericton. "on the arrival of the exploring party at st. anns, they lost no time in making a shelter for themselves nearly opposite the river nashwaak ... and they commenced their survey at the small gravelly point near government house, with the intention of surveying a township to terminate twelve miles below that place, but after surveying the courses of the river about four miles downward, a large company of indians, came down about nine miles, from their priest's residence with his interpreter, all having painted faces of divers colours and figures and dressed in their war habits. the chiefs, with grave countenances, informed the adventurers that they were trespassers on their rights; that the country belonged to them and unless they retired immediately they would compel them." "the reply made to the chiefs was to this effect: that the adventurers had received authority from the governor of halifax to survey and settle any land they should choose at the river saint john; that they had never been informed of the indians claiming the village of saint anne, but as they declared the land there to be their property (though it had been inhabited by the french, who were considered entitled to it, till its capture by the english) they would retire further down the river. * * * the surveying party removed their camp, according to their promise, almost as far down as the lower end of oromocto island on the east side of the river, whence they finished their survey twelve miles below the first mentioned bounds and returned to fort frederick." the circumstances that led to delay in procuring the grant from government have already been mentioned in this chapter. there can be no doubt that mr. fisher's statement--corroborated by moses h. perley--that the township was laid out in lots in the earlier part of is correct, for on sept. nd a meeting of the intending settlers was advertised to be held for the purpose of drawing the lots which were described as "already laid out." but the statement of mr. fisher (in which he is again followed by moses h. perley) that one or two families from newburyport accompanied the surveying party in the month of may, and brought with them the frame of a small dwelling house and boards to cover it, together with a small stock of cattle, and that on the third day after their arrival the house was finished and inhabited--is probably a misapprehension resulting from the confounding of incidents, which occurred in the course of the same year but were separated by an interval of several months. at any rate the late john quinton, who was born in , states most emphatically in a letter to joseph w. lawrence that it was not until the th day of august that his grand-parents, hugh and elizabeth quinton, capt. francis peabody and family, james simonds and others came to reside at the river st. john. he says that accomodation was provided for quinton and his wife, miss hannah peabody and others in the barracks at fort frederick, where on the very night of their arrival was born james quinton, the first child of english speaking parents, whose birth is recorded at st. john.[ ] the remainder of the party encamped on the east side of the harbor at the site of an old french fort, the place since known as portland point, or simonds' point, where they erected a dwelling into which the quintons and others in carleton soon afterwards removed. hannah peabody was at this time about twelve years old: she afterwards became the wife of james simonds. [ ] john quinton says he heard this story many times from his grandmother's lips. she was a woman of remarkable memory and lived until the year . it would seem very improbable she could be mistaken as to the date of such an event. chapter xvi. progress of the maugerville settlement. the township of maugerville, as described in the grant of october , , began "at a pine tree on a point of land a little below the island called mauger's island," extending - / miles up the river with a depth of nearly miles. it embraced the principal part of the parishes of maugerville and sheffield, including oromocto island and "the island lying off wind-mill point called middle island." in the grant the "rights" or "shares" were fixed at acres but the surveyor-general of nova scotia, charles morris, had intended that the grantees should have , acres each on account of their being the first adventurers and also on account of the large proportion of sunken lands and lakes within the limits of the township. at the time the maugerville grant was made out the obnoxious stamp act was about coming into force in america and the crown land office at halifax was besieged with people pressing for their grants in order to save the stamp duties. in the hurry and confusion existing mr. morris says that the shares of the township were inadvertently fixed at acres each, whereas it had been his intention to lay out one hundred farm lots, each forty rods wide and extending one mile deep into the country, and to give each grantee the balance of his , acres in the subsequent division of the rest of the township. it is quite likely the maugerville settlers were glad to accept the smaller shares allotted them in view of the fact that they had been so near losing the whole by the decision of the british government to reserve the lands for the disbanded regulars of the army. by the terms of the grant it was provided that all persons who failed to settle on their lots, with proper stock and materials for the improvement of their lands, before the last day of november, , should forfeit all claim to the lands allotted them. the township was supposed to consist of shares but only shares were included in the grant of . at least two other grants were passed prior to the coming of the loyalists--one in , the other early in ; but there were still some vacant lots which were gladly taken up by these unfortunate exiles. for their accomodation also a grant was made dec. , , of the rear of the township and such men as samuel ryerson, justus earle, joseph ryerson, wm. van allen, abraham van buskirk, samuel tilley and lodewick fisher[ ] were among the grantees. [ ] samuel tilley and lodewick fisher were the progenitors respectively of sir leonard tilley and hon. charles fisher, the one came from long island, n. y., the other from new jersey. it is curious they should have settled on adjoining lots in view of the intimate relations of their distinguished grandsons in the battle for responsible government. the other names given above are those of officers in lt.-col. van buskirk's battalion of the new jersey volunteers who were of dutch descent. nearly all the original settlers in the township of maugerville were from massachusetts, the majority from the single county of essex. thus the burpees were from rowley, the perleys from boxford, the esteys from newburyport, while other families were from haverhill, ipswich, gloucester, salem and other towns of this ancient county which antedates all others in massachusetts but plymouth. these settlers were almost exclusively of puritan stock and members of the congregationalist churches of new england. the list of the grantees of the township of maugerville, alphabetically arranged, includes the following names:-- benjamin atherton, jacob barker, jacob barker, jr., thomas barker, richard barlow, benjamin brawn, david burbank, joseph buber, jeremiah burpee, jonathan burpee, james chadwell, thomas christy, joseph clark, widow clark, edward coy, moses davis, jos. f. w. desbarres, enoch dow, joseph dunphy, john estey, richard estey, richard estey, jr., zebulun estey, joseph garrison, beamsley p. glazier, william harris, thomas hart, geo. hayward, nehemiah hayward, jeremiah howland, ammi howlet, samuel hoyt, daniel jewett, richard kimball, john larlee, joshua mauger, peter moores, william mckeen, elisha nevers, jabez nevers, phinehas nevers, samuel nevers, nathaniel newman, daniel palmer, moses palmer, jonathan parker, francis peabody, oliver peabody, richard peabody, samuel peabody, stephen peabody, asa perley, israel perley, oliver perley, humphrey pickard, moses pickard, hugh quinton, nicholas rideout, thomas rous, john russell, ezekiel saunders, william saunders, gervas say, john shaw, hugh shirley, james simonds, samuel tapley, giles tidmarsh, jr., samuel upton, james vibart, john wasson, matthew wasson, john whipple, jonathan whipple, samuel whitney, jediah stickney, john smith, johnathan smith, charles stephens, isaac stickney. the majority of the surnames in the above list will seem wonderfully familiar to the residents of the st. john river counties where their descendants today form a large and influential element in the community. in his lecture on new brunswick history delivered in , moses h. perley says that in the year the maugerville township was settled by families, comprising about persons, who came from massachusetts in four vessels. there cannot be the slightest doubt that mr. perley has greatly over-estimated the number of the original settlers. we have every reason to believe that the population of the township continued steadily to increase and about two years later (dec. , ), a census was submitted to the government of nova scotia by lieut. governor francklin showing that there were then living at maugerville men, women, boys and girls, a total of souls; and it may be added that during the year new settlers had arrived and children were born, while the number of deaths was but . that the new settlers were anxious to fulfil the conditions of their grants is shown by the fact that they already possessed horses, oxen and bulls, sows, young cattle, sheep and swine. their crop for the year included: wheat bushels, rye , do., beans do., oats do., pease do., flaxseed do. a grist and saw-mill had been built and two sloops were owned by the settlers. some attempt had also been made at raising flax and hemp. the settlement at maugerville was visited by hon. charles morris, the surveyor general of nova scotia, in , and it is not improbable the census taken by order of lieut. governor franklin was made under his supervision. mr. morris was evidently much surprised at the progress the settlers had made, for in a letter of the th january, , he says:-- "opposite to oromocto river, upon the northerly side of the river st. john's, is the english settlement of disbanded soldiers from new england, consisting of about eighty families, who have made great improvements, and are like to make an established settlement there. and by some tryals they have made of hemp upon the intervale it succeeded beyond their expectation. i measured myself hemp that was nine feet high, that had not come to its full growth in the latter end of july. they generally have about twenty bushels of maze and about twenty bushels of wheat from an acre of land, that was only cleared of its woods and harrowed without ever having a plow in it. when i was on the river last year, i saw myself eighty bushes of indian corn raised from one acre of land that had been ploughed and properly managed. i would observe that the corn raised on this river is not the same kind as the corn in new england; neither the climate or soil would be suitable to it; they get their seed from canada and they sow it in rows about three feet distant as we do pease in our gardens; it takes about a bushel to sow an acre; the ears grow close to the ground as thick as they can stick one by another, pointing outwards like a cheveaux de frise upon each side of the rows; the richness of the soil, the manner of sowing it and of its growing, may account very easily for its producing so much to the acre. some of the old french inhabitants of the river have informed me that they have raised, in a seasonable year, near one hundred bushels of indian corn per acre." the alluvial character of the soil of maugerville, its freedom from stone and from dense forest growth, no doubt attracted the first english settlers and decided the choice of their location, just as the same features attracted the brothers d'amours and others of the french nearly a century before. the french, too, recorded as the principal drawback of the location, the losses and annoyances consequent upon the inundation of their fields and premises by the spring freshets.[ ] a short experience convinced the english settlers that the complaints of their predecessors were well founded. [ ] see previous chapters, pp. , . as maugerville divides with portland point the honor of being the first permanent english settlement at the river st. john, it is proper to describe in some fulness of detail the movements of its founders. they were a sturdy and adventurous race. the great majority had seen active service in the "old french war"--some of them had fought under wolfe at the taking of quebec. the indian war-cry was a sound not unfamiliar to their ears, and so their interview with the savages of aukpaque, upon their arrival, taught them the dangers of their situation. it really required more hardihood to plunge into the wilderness than to settle under the protection of fort frederick at the river's mouth. the proximity of the indian town of aukpaque; a few miles above, probably induced the majority of the maugerville people to settle in the lower part of the township. at any rate for some years no one resided farther up the river than lot no. , about five miles below the nashwaak, where lived the widow clark, a resolute old dame whom nothing could dismay. it is interesting to note that simonds and white contemplated at one time the erection of a truck-house at maugerville for their indian trade, and a frame was prepared for the building, but before it was raised some difficulties arose between the indians and the whites and the matter was deferred for a year or two. the frame was then sent up the river in the sloop "bachelor" and landed on lot no. , belonging to mr. simonds, "near the then upper settlement of maugerville." this was the only place available as none of the settlers desired to have the truck-house near them. however the carpenters found the frame so warped as not to be worth setting up and the project was abandoned. the first band of settlers came to maugerville in , probably in small vessels hired for the occasion. from time to time the colony received additions from new england. the later comers usually took their passage in some of the vessels owned by messrs. hazen, simonds and white, which furnished the readiest means of communication. there are many interesting items in the account books[ ] kept by simonds and white at their store at portland point in connection with the maugerville settlers. for example captain francis peabody is charged with the following items, under date january , :-- "to passage in schooner of passengers from new england at s. £ freight of heiffers at s. club of cyder for men at s. d. each tons of hay for cattle on passage freight of sheep [ ] several of these books are now in my possession.--w. o. r. in the same schooner there came jacob barker, jun., oliver perley, zebulon estey, humphrey pickard and david burbank, each of whom paid twelve shillings passage money from newburyport to st. john and s. d. for "his club of cyder" on the voyage. david burbank brought with him a set of mill irons, which is suggestive of enterprise, but his stay appears to have been but brief, for on the th april, , he sold his land (about five miles below the nashwaak) to william brawn, the son of an original grantee of the township, and the deed was acknowledged before john anderson, justice of the peace at moncton[ ] the th of april. [ ] john anderson was one of the first magistrates of the original county of sunbury, appointed aug. , . he had a trading post, which he called "moncton," just above the nashwaak on the site of the modern village of gibson. the deed referred to above is one of the earliest on record in the province. the upper boundary of the township of maugerville now forms a part of the dividing line between the counties of york and sunbury. the lower boundary of the township began near the foot of maugers' island, about two miles above the queens-sunbury county line. middle island, which occupies a middle position between oromocto island above and mauger's (or gilbert's) island below, was in a sense the centre of the township, and it must not be forgotten by the reader that what was in early days the principal section of the township of maugerville is now the parish of sheffield. the lots are numbered beginning at middle island and running down the river to no. , then starting again at the upper end of the grant, at the york county line, and running down the river to middle island, so that the last lot, no. , adjoins the first lot. the oldest plan of the township in the crown land office shows the state of settlement at a date subsequent to that of the original grant, and during the interval a good many changes had occurred. the early grantees were about eighty in number. reference to the accompanying plan of the river will show the locations of the early settlers of maugerville; they will be mentioned in order ascending the river. the lower ten lots of the township and mauger's island were granted to joshua mauger. just above were the lots of gervas say, nehemiah hayward, john russell, samuel upton, zebulon estey, john estey, richard estey and edward coy. at the head of mauger's island were the lots of matthew wason, samuel whitney and samuel tapley. between mauger's island and middle island the lots were those of jeremiah burpee, jonathan burpee, jacob barker, daniel jewett, ezekiel saunders, humphrey pickard, moses pickard, jacob barker, jr., isaac stickney and jonathan smith. opposite middle island, in order ascending, were thomas barker, john wason, daniel palmer, richard kimball, joseph garrison, samuel nevers, peter mooers, richard estey, jr., jabez nevers, enoch dow and hugh quinton. between middle and oromocto islands were thomas christie, elisha nevers, jedediah stickney, stephen peabody, capt. francis peabody and william mckeen. opposite oromocto island were israel perley (at the foot of the island), lt.-col. beamsley p. glasier, john whipple, nathaniel rideout, capt. francis peabody, alexander tapley, phineas nevers, joseph dunphy, william harris, ammi howlet, samuel peabody and oliver peabody. above oromocto island we find the lots of asa perley, oliver perley, george munro, james simonds, joseph buber, joseph shaw, benjamin brawn, daniel burbank, thomas hartt and the widow clark. thence to the upper boundary of the township, a distance of two miles, there were at first no settlers, but in the course of time richard barlow, nehemiah beckwith, benjamin atherton, jeremiah howland and others took up lots. [illustration: plan of maugerville, including sheffield.] the names of the majority of the maugerville grantees appear in the account books kept by simonds and white at their store at portland point and a lot of interesting family history might be gleaned from the old faded pages. there are other items of interest in the records of the old county of sunbury. in nearly all the early settlements made on the river st. john some encouragement was offered for the erection of a mill, and when the signers under captain francis peabody met at andover in april, , previous to their leaving massachusetts, it was agreed that each signer should pay six shillings towards erecting a mill in their township. the streams in maugerville are so inconsiderable that it may be presumed some difficulty would arise on this head. this is confirmed by the fact that in the grant of the point of land opposite middle island is called "wind-mill point." however an old deed shows that richard estey, jr., had on his lot no. (opposite middle island) a mill built on what is called numeheal creek, of which the first owners were mr. estey and his neighbor, thomas barker. this mill was sold in to james woodman and was employed in sawing boards and other lumber for the loyalists at st. john during the summer of . not all of the grantees of the township of maugerville were actual settlers. of several we know little more than the names. this is the case with james chadwell, whose name appears first in the grant, and with moses davis, thomas rous, jonathan parker, hugh shirley, nathaniel newman and james vibart. two other non-resident grantees were men of influence and in their day made sufficient stir in the world to claim further notice. the first bore the imposing name of joseph frederick wallet desbarres. this gentleman is believed to have been a native of switzerland. he obtained a commission in the english army and served with distinction under wolfe at the siege of quebec. at the time the maugerville settlement was founded he was a lieutenant in the th regiment, but being an excellent engineer, had lately been engaged by the board of admiralty to make exact surveys and charts of the coasts and harbors of nova scotia. in this work desbarres was employed a good many years. nearly two seasons were spent in making a careful survey of sable island--the grave-yard of the atlantic--where desbarres tells us the sands were strewn with wreckage and thousands had already perished for want of known soundings. some of the results of his prolonged labors may be seen in the three huge volumes of the atlantic neptune (each as large as a fair sized table) in the crown land office at fredericton. commenting on the length of time spent in his surveys desbarres remarks: "interruptions from fogs and precarious weather, unavoidably made tedious a performance in which accuracy is the chief thing desired, and rendered many years necessary to complete it for publication; but when the author reflects that the accuracy and truth of his work will stand the test of ages, and preserve future navigators from the horrors of shipwreck and destruction, he does not repine at its having employed so large a portion of his life." the engrossing nature of his occupation as engineer did not hinder desbarres from being an ambitious land speculator. in he obtained, in conjunction with general haldimand and one or two others, a grant of the township of hopewell, comprising , acres on the petitcodiac river. but he derived little benefit from his lands, as he was unable to fulfill the conditions of settlement, and eventually they reverted to the crown. in , des barres was appointed lieut. governor of cape breton, and afterwards lieut. governor of prince edward island. he died at halifax on the th october, , and was honored with a state funeral at which the attendance was great and the interest felt very remarkable. this was due, in some measure, to the fact that had he lived another month he would have attained the extraordinary age of years. beamish murdoch observes: "colonel desbarres' scientific labors on our coasts, and his repute as one of the heroes of under wolfe at quebec, gave him a claim on the gratitude and reverence of all nova scotians." this sentiment was not shared by the acadians of memramcook, who found difficulty in resisting the claims of the heirs of desbarres to the lands they had settled. two lots in the upper part of the township of maugerville were granted to governor desbarres and had he settled there he would have been the next-door neighbor of the widow clark, but there is nothing to show that he made any attempt to improve his lands in that quarter and so his connection with the settlement is nothing but a name. joshua mauger, the other non-resident grantee to whom reference has been made, was an english merchant who came to america as a contractor under government for furnishing supplies to the army at louisbourg. when cape breton was restored to france, in , louisbourg was evacuated and mauger came with the troops to halifax. shortly after his arrival he and other merchants asked permission to build wharves on the beach for the accommodation of their business. in he was appointed agent for victualling the navy. grog was at that time freely dispensed in the army and navy, and mauger erected a distillery where he manufactured the rum required for the troops and seamen. as the business was lucrative he soon accumulated much property in and around halifax, including the well known mauger's beach at the entrance of halifax harbor. he had also shops at pisiquid and minas--or, as they are now called, windsor and horton--where he sold goods and spirits to the french and indians. he returned to england in and was appointed agent for the province of nova scotia in london. the year following he was elected a member of parliament. joshua mauger in his position as agent for the province was able to render it essential service, and in the year the legislature of nova scotia voted the sum of £ for a piece of plate as a testimonial of their appreciation of his "zeal and unwearied application" in their behalf. as already mentioned, it was chiefly due to his energy that the massachusetts settlers on the river st. john were confirmed in possession of their township. for his services in this connection, however, he was not unrewarded; not only was the township named in his honor, but the large island, since known as mauger's or gilbert's island, was granted to him, together with ten lots, at the lower end of the township. when the loyalists arrived they looked with somewhat covetous eyes on these interval lands which were settled by tenants at a yearly rental of £ for each lot. mauger's island was purchased by colonel thomas gilbert, the well known loyalist of taunton, massachusetts, and by him bequeathed to his eldest son, thomas gilbert, jr. the latter writes so entertainingly and so enthusiastically of his situation, in a letter to his sister and her husband, that we venture to depart, for a moment, from the chronological order of events in order to give some extracts. "on board major's island, sept. , . dear brother and sister,-- * * * i have made great improvements on board this island. three summers ago i built a large house, the carpenter just as he had finished the work took a brand of fire by accident and burnt it all to ashes with three hundred pounds of property in it. it happened the th of november, winter set in next day. i fled to a small house i had on the island. ice making in the river there was no passing, but my neighbors knew my situation and assembled of their own good will[ ]--in four weeks put me into a good framed house forty feet long twenty wide with a good chimney, where i lived the winter very comfortably. in the spring i went to work and built a house by and set it on to the other, which occupies the same ground that the other did, and i finished it to a latch from top to bottom. * * * * the summer past i have built me a barn feet by completely finished and said to be the best in the province. 'i wonder you don't come yourself or send some of your family to help us enjoy this fine country. we feel no war nor pay any tax. our land brings forth abundantly; it is almost incredible to see the produce; it makes but little odds when you plant or sow, at harvest time you will have plenty. this last spring was late, the water was not off so that i could plant till the st of june, and so till the th we planted, and you never saw so much corn in any part of the states to the acre as i have got, and wheat and everything to the greatest perfection. i wonder how you and my friends can prefer digging among the stones and paying rates to an easy life in this country. last year i sold beef, pork and mutton more than i wanted for my family for three hundred pounds, besides two colts for forty pounds apiece. a few days ago i sold four colts before they were broke for one hundred and ten pounds and i have sixteen left. i have a fine stock of cattle and sheep--butter and cheese is as plenty here as herrings are at taunton--a tenant lives better here than a landlord at berkley. i am blesst with the best neighbors that ever drew breath--they are made of the same stuff that our forefathers were that first settled new england. * * * * i live under the protection of the king, and i am stationed by his laws on this island, the finest farm in the province. i don't intend to weigh my anchor nor start from this till i have orders from the governor of all things--then i hope to obey the summons with joy and gladness--with great expectation, to meet you in heaven where i hope to rest." [ ] he means that intercourse with the shore was cut off in consequence of floating ice but that his neighbors had seem the misfortune and, realizing the need of prompt action, of their own good will met together and began to prepare the frame and materials for a new dwelling. benjamin atherton removed to st. anns about where at the time the loyalists arrived he is reported to have had a good framed house and log barn and about acres of land, cleared in part by the french. this land was near the government house, and here in early days, messrs. simonds & white established a trading post to which the indians and acadians and some of the english settlers resorted. the store was managed by benjamin atherton who had an interest in the business. mr. atherton was a man of ability and good education and filled the office of clerk of the peace of the county of sunbury--at that time including nearly all new brunswick. hugh quinton, samuel peabody, gerves say and william mckeen removed at an early date to the mouth of the river and we shall hear more of them in connection with that locality. edward coy, thomas hart and zebulun estey removed to gagetown. some facts concerning edward coy are related in a curious old book published at boston in entitled "a narrative of the life and christian experience of mrs. mary bradley of saint john, new brunswick, written by herself." from this source we learn that the coys were originally mccoys but that the "mac" was dropped by edward coy's grandfather and never resumed by the family. the coys came from pomfret in connecticut to the river st. john in and the family removed from gagetown to sheffield in . one of edward coy's daughters is said to have been the first female child of english speaking parents born on the st. john river. the curious "cul de sac" in the river opposite the mouth of the belleisle known as "the mistake" was formerly called "coy's mistake"--the name doubtless suggests the incident in which it had its origin. many a traveller since the time of edward coy has incautiously entered the same cul-de-sac, thinking it the channel of the river, and, after proceeding two or three miles, found he too had made a "mistake" and retraced his way a sadder and a wiser man. zebulun estey and thomas hart went to gagetown while the war of the revolution was in progress. the sentiments of the two were diverse during the war. mr. hart was one of the committee who helped to organize the party that went with the americans, under colonel jonathan eddy, against fort cumberland, in . he is described in major studholme's report as "a rebel." zebulun estey on the other hand is described as "a good man and his character very loyal." naturally the large number of those who removed from maugerville on account of the inconveniences of the spring freshets went across the river to the township of burton, in some cases still retaining their property in maugerville. among those who so removed were isaac stickney, israel estey, moses estey, john larlee, amos estey, john pickard, benjamin brawn, edward barker, israel kinney, john shaw and thomas barker. these were chiefly original grantees or their sons, who all removed to burton during the progress of the revolution, excepting john larlee and israel kinney who went there in . john larlee was one of the old time doctors, a man highly respected whose descendants now are chiefly residents of carleton county. israel kinney was probably the first blacksmith in the community. among those not included in the original band of settlers at maugerville, but who arrived there shortly afterwards, was moses coburn, who came from newburyport to st. john in the schooner eunice early in . this little vessel had quite a number of passengers for the river st. john, including james simonds, oliver perley, alexander tapley and stephen hovey, but the voyage is of special interest from the fact that there was a bride on board, the young wife of james simonds, formerly hannah peabody--a bride of sixteen. the eunice had a fine passage and arrived at st. john on the th april, . moses coburn settled on lot no. , not far below the present sheffield academy. the lot had been drawn by edward coy, one of the original grantees of the township, who took up his residence in gagetown, but afterwards removed to maugerville. alexander tapley was one of the passengers in the eunice. he lived at maugerville prior to april , , for on that date he sold - / lbs. of beaver to simonds & white for the sum of £ s. d., and purchased in return a number of articles including a pair of women's shoes at shillings, and a pair of "men's pomps" at shillings. a curious incident in connection with alexander tapley is to be found in the old court records of the county of sunbury. it seems that having been appointed constable he declined to qualify and take the oath of office. in consequence he was summoned on the th may, , to appear before israel perley and jacob baker, two of the magistrates, "to give a reason (if any he hath) for the refusing to serve as a constable for said town of maugerville." to this citation tapley paid no regard, whereupon the magistrates, in high dudgeon, fined him forty shillings and issued a warrant to samuel upton, constable, who "took a cow of the said tapley to satisfy the fine and costs, which sum was ordered to remain in the said constable's hand till called for." giles tidmarsh was one of the transient settlers of maugerville. the account books of simonds and white show that he lived on the river at least as early as october, --the first item charged in his acount is: "oct. d, to fusee, £ ." on july , , tidmarsh was granted , acres in the township of maugerville. some years later his name appears as a halifax magistrate, and in the year he was a planter in the island of grenada. on nov. th of that year he sold to jacob barker, jr., the half of lot no. , in upper sheffield, about acres, for £ . the descendants of the early settlers on the river st. john will find some very interesting information in the old accounts of simonds & white as to the date and manner of the arrival of their forefathers in this country, and something too as regards their way of living. in the early days of maugerville it was quite a common occurrence for an intending settler to leave his family in new england till he had succeeded in making a small clearing and had built a log house for their accommodation, and a hovel for such domestic animals as he chose to bring with him. this in some measure explains the fact that while according to the census of michael francklin there were men in maugerville at the close of the year there were only women. here is an example from the account books of simonds & white which will serve for illustration in this connection; it appears under date august , :-- nehemiah hayward to simonds & white, dr. to his passage to newbury in the polly last march. s. his and wife's passage to this place s. cow, s.; child, s. s. evidently mr. hayward had made a home for his wife and child on the banks of the st. john and had now gone to bring them on from newburyport. his farm was in the lower part of sheffield. most of the live stock for the maugerville people was shipped from newburyport to st. john in the vessels of hazen, simonds and white. one of the first horses in the settlement was owned by ammi howlet, who paid £ as freight for the animal in a sloop that arrived in may, . it is manifestly impossible to follow the history of every family represented in the grantees of maugerville. of the souls that comprised the population of the township in , all were natives of america with the exception of six english, ten irish, four scotch and six germans. the majority were of puritan stock and members of the congregationalist churches of massachusetts. scarcely had they settled themselves in their new possessions when they began the organization of a church. dr. james hannay in his very interesting paper on the maugerville settlement, published in the collections of the new brunswick historical society, gives a copy of the original church covenant certified as correct by humphrey pickard, the church clerk. the covenant is signed by jonathan burpee, elisha nevers, richard estey, daniel palmer, gervas say, edward coy and jonathan smith. the opening paragraph reads: "we whose names are hereto subscribed, apprehending ourselves called of god (for advancing of his kingdom and edifying ourselves and posterity) to combine and embody ourselves into a distinct church society, and being for that end orderly dismissed from the churches to which we heretofore belonged; do (as we hope) with some measure of seriousness and sincerity, take upon us the following covenant, viz.:-- "as to matters of faith we cordially adhere to the principles of religion (at least the substance of them) contained in the shorter catechism of the westminister assembly of divines wherewith also the new england confession of faith harmonizeth, not as supposing that there is any authority, much less infalibility, in these human creeds or forms; but verily believing that these principles are drawn from and agreeable to the holy scripture, which is the foundation and standard of truth; hereby declaring our utter dislike of the pelagian arminian principles, vulgarly so called. "in a firm belief of the aforesaid doctrines from an earnest desire that we and ours may receive the love of them and be saved with hopes that what we are now doing may be a means of so great an happiness; we do now (under a sense of our utter unworthiness of the honour and privileges of god's covenant people) in solemn and yet free and cheerful manner give up ourselves and offspring to god the father, to the son the mediator, and the holy ghost the instructor, sanctifier and comforter, to be henceforth the people and servants of this god, to believe in all his revalations, to accept of his method of reconciliation, to obey his commands, and to keep all his ordinances, to look to and depend upon him to do all for us, and work all in us, especially relating to our eternal salvation, being sensible that of ourselves we can do nothing. "and it is also our purpose and resolution (by divine assistance) to discharge the duties of christian love and brotherly watchfulness towards each other, to train up our children in the nurture and admonition of the lord: to join together in setting up and maintaining the publick worship of god among us, carefully and joyfully to attend upon christ's sacrament and institutions; to yield all obedience and submission to him or them that shall from time to time in an orderly manner be made overseers of the flock, to submit to all the regular administrations and censures of the church and to contribute all in our power unto the regularity and peaceableness of those administrations. "and respecting church discipline it is our purpose to adhere to the method contained in the platform or the substance of it agreed upon by the synod at cambridge in new england ano. dom. as thinking these methods of church discipline the nearest the scripture and most likely to maintain and promote purity, order and peace of any. "and we earnestly pray that god would be pleased to smile upon this our undertaking for his glory, that whilst we thus subscribe with our hands, to the lord and sirname ourselves by the name of israel; we may through grace given us become israelites indeed in whom there is no guile, that our hearts may be right with god and we be steadfast in his covenant, that we who are now combining together in a new church of jesus christ, may by the purity of our faith and morals become one of those golden candlesticks among which the son of god in way of favor and protection will condescend to walk. and that every member of it thro' imputed righteousness and inherent grace may hereafter be found among that happy multitude whom the glorious head of the church, the heavenly bridegroome shall present to himself a glorious church not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing." no date is attached to this church covenant, but it was in all probability drawn up within a year or two of the date of arrival of the first settlers. jonathan burpee, whose name comes first in the order of signers, was a deacon in the church, and for some years the leader in all church movements. he lived in that part of sheffield just above the academy and was the ancestor of the hon. isaac burpee, who was minister of customs in the mackenzie government, and of many others of the name. his son, jeremiah burpee, lived beside him and a grandson, david burpee, was another neighbor. it was not until some years after the organization of the church that there was any settled minister on the st. john river and those desirous of entering the holy estate of matrimony were obliged like james simonds to proceed to massachusetts or to follow the example off gervas say and anna russell, whose marriage is described in the following unique document:-- "maugerville, february , . "in the presence of almighty god and this congregation, gervas bay and anna russell, inhabitants of the above said township enter into marriage covenant lawfully to dwell together in the fear of god the remaining part of our lives, in order to perform all ye duties necessary betwixt husband and wife as witness our hands. daniel palmer, gervas say, fras. peabody, anna say. saml. whitney, richard estey, george hayward, david palmer, edwd. coye. gervas say was one of the signers of the church covenant as also were three of the witnesses, richard estey, daniel palmer, and edward coye, and it may be assumed that the marriage was regarded as perfectly proper under the circumstances and it is not improbable that, in the absence of a minister, this was the ordinary mode of marriage. gervas say was afterwards a magistrate of the county and a man of integrity, ability and influence. during the earlier years of the settlement at maugerville there was no resident minister, but the place was occasionally visited by a clergyman. it is said that the first religious teacher there was a mr. wellman who came to maugerville with some of the first settlers but did not remain. there is nothing to show that when the church covenant was signed, in the year , there was any resident minister. the reverend thomas wood of annapolis, a church of england clergyman, visited the river st. john in the summer of , and on sunday, july th, landed at maugerville, where he held service and had a congregation of more than two hundred persons. he stated in his report to the society for the propagation of the gospel, that owing to the fact that the congregation was composed chiefly of dissenters from new england, and that they had a dissenting minister among them, only two persons were baptised by him, but, he added, "if a prudent missionary could be settled among them i believe all their prejudices would vanish." the next year the little settlement had a minister, zephaniah briggs, who remained from may to august, preaching on sundays at the houses of daniel palmer, jacob barker, hugh quinton, jonathan smith and elisha nevers. after a while came a mr. webster who, like his predecessor, seems to have been an itinerant preacher and did not tarry long. it was not until the arrival of the rev. seth noble[ ], in , that the church had a resident pastor, but in the intervals religious services were held on the lord's day at private houses, conducted by the deacons and elders of the church, consisting of prayer and exhortation, reading of a sermon and singing. among the early deacons were jonathan burpee, samuel whitney, john shaw, and humphrey pickard. the elders were chosen annually. [ ] the rev. seth noble was grandfather of the rev. joseph noble who at this date ( ), is the oldest free baptist minister in the province. for this information i am indebted to h. g. noble of woodstock, n. b.--w.o.r. the records of the church, which are yet in existence, show that the promise, made by the signers of the original covenant, to maintain "brotherly watchfulness toward each other," was by no means lost sight of for many of the entries in the church records are devoted to matters of discipline. in september, , for example, two rather prominent members of the church, israel kenny and benjamin brawn, were called to account, and after due acknowledgment of their faults before the congregation were "restored to their charity again." one of the two offending brethren, who had been charged with "scandalous sins," was elected a ruling elder of the church less than two years afterwards. the year , gave to maugerville its first settled minister, the rev. seth noble, and the circumstances connected with his appointment are thus stated in the minutes of the clerk of the church, daniel palmer: "at a meeting held by the subscribers to a bond for the support of the preached gospel among us at the house of mr. hugh quinton inholder on wednesday ye of june . ly chose jacob barker esqr. moderator in sd. meeting. ly gave mr. seth noble a call to settle in the work of the ministry among us. ly to give mr. seth noble as a settlement providing he accept of the call, one hundred and twenty pounds currency. ly voted to give mr. seth noble yearly salary of sixty five pounds currency so long as he shall continue our minister to be in cash or furs or grain at cash price. ly. chose esqrs., jacob barker, phinehas nevers, israel pearly, deacon jonathan burpee and messrs. hugh quinton, daniel palmer, moses coburn, moses pickard a committee to treat with seth noble. ly adjourned the meeting to be held at the house of mr. hugh quinton on wednesday ye instat, at four of the clock in the afternoon to hear the report of the committee. met on the adjournment on wednesday ye of june and voted as an addition to the salary of mr. seth noble if he should except of our call, to cut and haul twenty five cords of wood to his house yearly so long as he shall continue to be our minister. the meeting dissolved." [illustration: the congregational church at sheffield.] the call having been accepted by mr. noble, the people the following year set about the erection of a meeting house, which was to serve also as a residence for their pastor. in january, , it was so far advanced that the exterior was nearly completed, for in david burpee's book of accounts, under that date, there is a charge for work done by messrs. plummer and bridges in "clapboarding one third of the east end of the meeting house." when finished the building was doubtless a very unpretentious little structure not at all like a modern church edifice and very unlike its successor, the congregational church in sheffield, but it was the first protestant place of worship erected on the river st. john. in the order of survey of the township of maugerville, made by the government of nova scotia in , were the words "you shall reserve four lots in the township, for publick use, one as a glebe for the church of england, one of the dissenting protestants, one for the maintenance of a school, and one for the first settled minister in the place." in accordance with this arrangement lot no. , where the sheffield congregational church now stands, was fixed on in the year as a glebe for the "dissenting protestants." improvements were made upon the lot and a part of it used as a burial ground. the first meeting house, however, was not built there. it probably stood on lot , the property of jeremiah burpee and later of his son, david burpee. in the church records we have the following minute bearing upon the subject, the meaning of which, however, does not seem perfectly clear:-- "at a meeting of the subscribers for the support of the preached gospel held at the meeting house in sheffield on the th day of december, -- chose mr. daniel jewett chairman. " ndly. voted that the meeting house be set on the public lot in sheffield. " rdly. voted to remove the meeting house in maugerville to the public lot in sheffield if the proprietor thereof consents thereto. " thly. chose messers. nathan smith, silvanus plumer, eben briggs, elijah dingee and jacob barker, esq., managers to remove the same." the meeting house was removed early in the spring, placed upon a stone foundation, a steeple erected, and many improvements made. if the rev. seth noble had remained he would doubtless have had a grant of the lot reserved for the first settled minister in the township, but his removal in the year not only lost him the lot but caused it to pass eventually to the rev. john beardsley, rector of the church of england congregation. some years after he left maugerville mr. noble wrote to his former congregation respecting this lot but they gave him rather a tart reply: "you was indeed told," said they, "that there was a lot of land in maugerville reserved by government to be given to the first settled minister in fee simple, and had you continued as such undoubtedly you would have obtained a grant of it. but when you left this country you then (in the eyes of the government) forfeited all pretentions to that privilege and the man that would ask for it in your behalf would only get abuse. by your leaving us the dissenters have lost that privilege and the church of england minister gets the lot. though we must observe that during mrs. noble's residence here she had the improvement of it which was worth about five pounds per annum."[ ] [ ] the lot here referred to was no. in upper maugerville, now owned by alexander and walter smith. rev. seth noble was a warm sympathizer with the revolutionary party in america and in consequence was obliged to leave the river st. john in . his wife remained at maugerville for more than two years afterwards. lot no. , reserved as a glebe for the church of england, is that on which christ church in the parish of maugerville stands today. the congregational and episcopal churches, at the time new brunswick was separated from nova scotia, represented respectively the puritan and loyalist elements of the community, and their relations were by no means cordial. mutual antipathy existed for at least a couple of generations, but the old wounds are now fairly well healed and the causes of discord well nigh forgotten. the intercourse between the maugerville people and the smaller colony at the mouth of river was so constant that it is difficult to speak of the one without the other. for a few years the people living on the river were in a large measure dependent for supplies upon the store kept by simonds and white at portland point, and the names of the following maugerville settlers are found in the ledger of simonds and white in the year and shortly after, viz.: jacob barker, jacob barker jr., thomas barker, jeremiah burpee, david burbank, moses coburn, thomas christie, zebulun estey, richard estey, jr., john estey, col. beamsley glacier, joseph garrison, jonathan hart, william harris, nehemiah hayward, samuel hoyt, ammi howlet, daniel jewett, richard kimball, john larlee, peter moores, phinehas nevers, elisha nevers, samuel nevers, capt. francis peabody, samuel peabody, israel perley, oliver perley, daniel palmer, humphrey pickard, hugh quinton, nicholas rideout, jonathan smith, john shaw, gervis say, isaac stickney, samuel tapley, alexander tapley, giles tidmarsh, john wasson, jonathan whipple and samuel whitney. in return for goods purchased the settlers tendered furs, lumber, occasionally an old piece of silver, sometimes their own labor and later they were able to supply produce from their farms. money they scarcely ever saw. very often they gave notes of hand which they found it hard to pay. the furs they supplied were principally beaver skins at five shillings (or one dollar) per pound. they also supplied martin, otter and musquash skin, the latter at - / pence each. the lumber supplied included white oak barrel staves at shillings per thousand, red oak hogshead starves at shillings per thousand, "oyl nut" (butternut) staves at shillings per thousand, clapboards at shillings and oar rafters at £ per thousand feet. considering the labor involved--for the manufacture was entirely by hand--prices seem small; but it must be borne in mind that s. d. was a day's pay for a man's labor at this time. the indians had for so long a time enjoyed a monopoly of the fur trade that they regarded the white hunter with a jealous eye. indeed in the year they assembled their warriors and threatened to begin a new war with the english. the settlers an the river were much alarmed and the commandant of fort frederick, capt. pierce butler, of the th regiment, doubled his sentries. through the persuasion of the commandant, assisted by messrs. simonds and white and other leading inhabitants, the chiefs were induced to go to halifax and lay their complaints before the governor. one of the most influential inhabitants on the river accompanied them, whose name is not stated but it was very probably james simonds, at least he writes to his partners at newburyport in november of this year, "the dispute with the indians is all settled to the satisfaction of the government as well as the indians." at their first interview the chiefs insisted that the white settlers interfered with the rights of the indians by encroaching on their hunting grounds, clamming that it was one of the conditions of a former treaty that the english settlers should not be allowed to kill any wild game beyond the limits of their farms and improvements. they demanded payment for the beavers, moose and other animals killed in the forest by the settlers. the inhabitants of maugerville were able to prove that the charges brought against them were greatly exaggerated, most of the wild animals having been killed not far from their doors, while the aggregate of all animals slain by them was much less than stated by the indians. in the end the chiefs seemed to be satisfied that they were mistaken and appeared ashamed of their conduct in alarming the country without reason, but they still insisted that the young warriors of their tribe would not be satisfied without some compensation for the loss of their wild animals. the governor gave his decision as follows: "that although the grievances the indians had started were by no means sufficient to justify their hostile proceedings, yet to do them ample justice, he would order to be sent them a certain amount in clothing and provisions, provided they would consider it full satisfaction for any injuries done by the settlers; and that he would also send orders to restrain the settlers from hunting wild animals in the woods." the chiefs accepted this offer and the indians remained tranquil until the american revolution some twelve years later. one of the results of the conference seems to have been the reservation to the indians in the grant of the township of sunbury of " acres, including a church and burying ground at aughpack, and four acres for a burying ground at st. ann's point, and the island called indian island." the well known maliseet chief, ambroise st. aubin, was one of the leading negotiators at halifax as appears by the following pass furnished to him by governor wilmot: "permit the bearer, ambroise st. aubin, chief of the indians of st. john's river, to return there without any hindrance or molestation; and all persons are required to give him all necessary and proper aid and assistance on his journey. given under my hand and seal at halifax this th day of september, . m. wilmot. rich'd bulkeley, secretary." chapter xvii. at portland point. when the attention of james simonds, was directed to the river st. john, by the proclamation oaf governor lawrence inviting the inhabitants of new england to settle on the vacant lands in nova scotia, he was a young man of twenty-four years of age. his father had died at haverhill; august th, . the next year he went with his uncle, capt. hazen, to the assault of ticonderoga, in the capacity of a subaltern officer in the provincial troops, and shortly after the close of the campaign proceeded to nova scotia in order to find a promising situation for engaging in trade. the fur trade was what he had chiefly in mind at this time, but the indians were rather unfriendly, and he became interested along with captain peabody, israel perley and other officers of the disbanded massachusetts troops in their proposed settlement on the river st john. his future partners of the trading company formed in were, with the exception of mr. blodget, even younger men than himself. william hazen, of newburyport, had just attained to manhood and belonged to a corps of massachusetts rangers, which served in canada at the taking of quebec. samuel blodget was a follower of the army on lake champlain as a sutler. james white was a young man of two-and-twenty years and had been for some time mr. blodget's clerk or assistant. leonard jarvis--afterwards wm. hazen's, business partner and so incidentally a member of the trading company at st. john--was not then eighteen years of age. while engaged in his explorations, james simonds obtained from the government of nova scotia the promise of a grant of , acres of unappropriated lands, in such part of the province as he should choose, and it was under this arrangement he entered upon the marsh east of the city of st. john (called by the indians "seebaskastagan") in the year and cut there a quantity of salt marsh hay and began to made improvements. mr. simonds says in one of his letters: "the accounts which i gave my friends in new england of the abundance of fish in the river and the convenience of taking them, of the extensive fur trade of the country, and the natural convenience of burning lime, caused numbers of them to make proposals to be concerned with me in these branches of business, among whom mr. hazen was the first that joined me in a trial. afterwards, in the year , although i was unwilling that any should be sharers with me in the fur trade, which i had acquired some knowledge of, yet by representations that superior advantage could be derived from a cod-fishery on the banks and other branches of commerce, which i was altogether unacquainted with, i joined in a contract for carrying it on for that year upon an extensive plan with messrs. blodget, hazen, white, peaslie and r. simonds." early in , james simonds and william hazen engaged in a small venture in the way of trade and fishing at st. john and passamaquoddy. they had several men in their employ, including ebenezer eaton, master of the sloop bachelor, and samuel middleton, a cooper, who was employed in making barrels for shipping the fish. among others in the employ of simonds and his partners, several seem to have had a previous acquaintance with st. john harbor; moses greenough, for example, was there in , and lemuel cleveland in , when he says "the french had a fort at portland point where mr. simonds' house was afterwards built." the following is a copy of what is probably the first document extant in connection with the business of hazen and simonds:-- passamaquada, th july, . sir,--please pay unto mr. ebenezer eaton the sum of five pounds one shilling & four pence lawfull money, half cash & half goods, and place the same to the acct. of, yr. humble servant, jas. simonds. to mr. william hazen, merchant in newbury. the success of their first modest little venture encouraged hazen and simonds to undertake a more ambitious project, namely the formation of a trading company to "enter upon and pursue with all speed and faithfulness the business of the cod fishery, seine fishery, fur trade, burning of lime and every other trading business that shall be thought advantageous to the company at passamaquoddy, st. johns, canso and elsewhere in or near the province of nova scotia and parts adjacent." evidently the project was regarded as in some measure an experiment, for the contract provided, "the partnership shall continue certain for the space of one year and for such longer time as all the partys shall hereafter agree." examination of the document shows that when first written the period the contract was to continue was left blank and the word "one" inserted before "year," evidently after consultation on the part of those concerned. shortly before the formation of the trading company, james simonds went to halifax to procure a grant of land at st. john and a license to trade with the indians, but did not at this time succeed in obtaining the grant. however the governor gave him the following license to occupy portland point: "license is hereby granted to james simonds to occupy a tract or point of land on the north side of st. john's river, opposite fort frederick, for carrying on a fishery and for burning lime-stone, the said tract or point of land containing by estimation ten acres. [signed] "montagu wilmot." "halifax, february , . upon this land at portland point the buildings required for the business of the company were built. the partnership was in its way a "family compact." samuel blodget, was distantly related to wm. hazen and the latter was a cousin of james and richard simonds; robert peaslie's wife was anna hazen, sister of wm. hazen, and james white was a cousin of wm. hazen. it was agreed that blodget, hazen and james simonds should each have one-fourth part in the business and profits, the remaining fourth part to be divided amongst the juniors, messrs. white, peaslie and richard simonds. blodget and hazen were the principal financial backers of the undertaking and agreed to provide, "at the expense of the company," the vessels, boats, tackling, and also all sorts of goods and stock needed to carry on the trade, also to receive and dispose of the fish, furs and other produce of trade sent to them from nova scotia. the fishery and all other business at st. john and elsewhere in nova scotia was to be looked after by the others of the company, and the junior partners were to proceed with james simonds to st. john and work under his direction, so far as to be ruled by him "at all times and in all things which shall relate to the good of the concerned wherein the said white, peaslie and r. simonds shall differ in judgment from the said james simonds, tho' all parties do hereby covenant in all things to consult and advise and act to the utmost of their power for the best good and advantage of the company." it is evident that the plans of our first business concern at st. john were not drawn up without due consideration. there is no evidence to show that any of the partners except the brothers simonds had been at st. john previous to the year . the statement has been frequently made that james white visited the harbor in in company with james simonds and capt. francis peabody, but his own papers which are still in existence clearly prove that he was almost constantly engaged in the employ of samuel blodget at crown point during that year. william hazen and james simonds were undoubtedly the prime movers in the formation of the trading company that began its operations at st. john in . by their joint efforts they were able to organize a firm seemingly happily constituted and likely to work together harmoniously and successfully. as a matter of fact, however, the company had a very chequered career and at length the war of the revolution seemed likely to involve them in financial ruin. this seeming calamity in the end proved to be the making of their fortunes by sending the loyalists in thousands to our shores. but of all this more anon. the financial backers of the company at the first were hazen and blodget, who carried on business at newburyport and boston respectively. these towns were then rising into importance and were rivals in trade although it was not long until boston forged ahead. the goods required for trade with the indians and white inhabitants of the river st. john and the military garrison at fort frederick were conveniently supplied from newburyport and boston, and these places were good distributing centres for the fish, furs, lumber, lime and other products obtained at st. john. the furs were usually sold in london; the other articles were either sold in the local market or sent to the west indies. the company having been formed and the contract signed on the st day of march, , the messrs. simonds, james white, jonathan leavitt and a party of about thirty hands embarked on board a schooner belonging to the company for the scene of operations. the men were fishermen, laborers, lime burners, with one or two coopers--a rough and ready lot, but with one or two of superior intelligence to act as foremen. comparatively few of the men seem to have become permanent settlers, yet as members of the little colony at portland point and almost the first english-speaking residents of st. john, outside of the fort frederick garrison, their names are worthy to be recorded. the following may be regarded as a complete list: james simonds, james white, jonathan leavitt, jonathan simonds, samuel middleton, peter middleton, edmund black, moses true, reuben stevens, john stevens, john boyd, moses kimball, benjamin dow, thomas jenkins, batcheldor ring, rowley andros, edmund butler, john nason, reuben mace, benjamin wiggins, john lovering, john hookey, rueben sergeant, benjamin stanwood, benjamin winter, anthony dyer, webster emerson, george carey, john hunt, george berry, simeon hillyard, ebenezer fowler, william picket and ezekiel carr. the company's schooner, with william story as master, sailed from newburyport about the th of april, arriving at passamaquody on the th, and at st. john on the th. the men set to work immediately on their arrival, and the quietude that had reigned beneath the shadow of fort howe hill was broken by the sound of the woodsman's axe and the carpenter's saw and hammer. among the first buildings erected were a log store feet by feet, a dwelling house feet by feet, and a building adjoining it by , rough boarded and used as a cooper's shop, kitchen and shelter for the workmen. portland point lies at the foot of portland street at the head of st. john harbor--the locality is better known today as "rankin's wharf." before the wharves in the vicinity were built the point was quite a conspicuous feature in the contour of the harbor. the site of the old french fort on which james simonds' house was built, with the company's store hard by, is now a green mound unoccupied by any building. the place was at first commonly called "simonds' point" but about the year the name of "portland point" seems to have come into use. nevertheless, down to the time of the arrival of the loyalists in , the members of the company always applied the names of "st. johns" or "st. john's river" to the scene of their operations, and it may be said that in spite of the attempt of the french governor villebon and his contemporaries to perpetuate the old indian name of menaquesk, or menagoeche, and of governor parr in later years to affix the name of "parr-town" to that part of our city to the east of the harbor, the name given by de monts and champlain on the memorable june, , has persisted to the present day. the city of st. john, therefore, has not only the honor of being the oldest incorporated city in the british colonies, but traces the origin of its name to a known and fixed date three hundred years ago. indeed as regards its name st. john is older than boston, new york, philadelphia or any city of importance on the atlantic coast as far south as florida. however the first english colonists who established themselves on a permanent footing at "st. john's" thought little of this historic fact. it was not sentiment but commercial enterprise than guided them. among those who came to st. john with simonds and white in april, , none was destined to play a more active and useful part than young jonathan leavitt. he was a native of new hampshire and at the time of his arrival was in his eighteenth year. young as he was he had some experience as a mariner, and from to was employed as master of one or other of the company's vessels. he sailed chiefly between st. john and newburyport, but occasionally made a voyage to the west indies. he received the modest compensation of £ per month for his services. in the course of time mr. leavitt came to be one of the most trusted navigators of the bay of fundy and probably none knew the harbor of st. john so well as he. in his testimony in a law suit, about the year , he states that in early times the places of anchorage in the harbor were the flats on the west side between fort frederick and sand point, which were generally used by strangers, and portland point where the vessels of the company lay. it was not until, that vessels began to anchor at the upper cove (now the market slip), that place being until then deemed rather unsafe. jonathan leavitt and has brother daniel piloted to their landing places the transport ships that carried some thousands of loyalists to our shores during the year . jonathan leavitt gives an interesting synopsis of the business carried on at st. john under the direction of simonds and white: "the company's business included fishery, fur trade, making lime, building vessels and sawing lumber, and they employed a great number of laborers and workmen in cutting wood, burning lime, digging stone, cutting hoop-poles, clearing roads, clearing land, curing fish, cutting hay and attending stock. the workmen and laborers were supported and paid by the partnership and lived in the outhouse and kitchen of the house occupied by simonds and white. there was a store of dry goods and provisions and articles for the indian trade." when he was at st. john, leavitt lived in the family of simonds and white who lived together during the greater part of the ten years he was in the company's employ, and when they separated their families he staid sometimes with one and sometimes with the other. simonds and white were supplied with bread, meat and liquors for themselves and families from the store, and no account was kept whilst they lived together, but after they separated they were charged against each family; the (workmen also were maintained, supported and fed from the joint stock of the store, as it was considered they were employed for the joint benefit of the company, but liquors and articles supplied on account of their wages were charged against the individual accounts of the men. part of the workmen and laborers were hired by william hazen and sent from newburyport, others were engaged by simonds and white at the river st. john. about the year jonathan leavitt married capt. francis peabody's youngest daughter, hephzibeth, then about sixteen years of age, and thus became more closely identified with james simonds and james white, whose wives were also daughters of capt. peabody.[ ] [ ] the concluding part of capt. peabody's will is of interest in connection with the above: "item, i give to my daughter elizabeth white thirty dollars to be paid by my two eldest sons in household goods. "item, to my daughter hannah simonds five dollars to be paid by my two eldest sons. "item, to my daughter hephzibeth i give three hundred dollars to be paid by my two eldest sons in household goods on the day of her marriage. as to my household goods and furniture i leave to the discretion of my loving wife to dispose of, excepting my sword, which i give to my son samuel. i appoint my dear wife and my son samuel executors of this my last will and testament. as witness my hand, francis peabody, sr. delivered this th day of october the year of our lord , in presence of us israel kinney, alexander tapley, phinehas nevers. benjamin atherton, registrar. this will was proved, approved, and registered this th day of june, . james simonds, judge of probate. when jonathan and daniel leavitt had for several years been engaged in sailing the company's vessels, it is said that they became discouraged at the outlook and talked of settling themselves at some place where there was a larger population and more business. james white did his best to persuade them to remain, closing his argument with the exhortation, "don't be discouraged, boys! keep up a good heart! why ships will come here from england yet!" and they have come. in addition to the leavitts and the masters of some of the other vessels, who were intelligent men, nearly all at st. john were ordinary laborers: however, the company from time to time employed some capable young fellows to assist in the store at the point. one of these was samuel webster, whose mother was a half-sister of james simonds. he remained nearly four years at st. john, during which time he lived in the family of simonds and white. while he was at st. john goods were shipped to newburyport and the west indies by the company in considerable quantities. there were he says at times a very considerable number of workmen and laborers employed, and at other times a smaller number, according to the time of year, and as the nature of the employment required. the laborers were fed, supported and paid out of the store, and lived in a house only a few rods from mr. simonds' house. emerson spent most of his time in the store, buying and selling and delivering small articles. he generally made the entries in the day book. another lad, samuel emerson, of bakerstown, massachusetts, came to st. john with james simonds in april, , as a clerk or assistant in the store, and remained nearly four years in the company's service. at the expiration of the first year several changes occurred in the company. richard simonds had died on the th january, . robert peaslie seems not to have come to st. john, although it was stipulated in the contract that he should do so, and early in he withdrew from the company. in the autumn of , leonard jarvis, a young man of twenty-two years of age, became associated with william hazen as co-partner in his business in newburyport and became by common consent a sharer in the business at st. john. so far as we can judge from his letters, mr. jarvis was a man of excellent business ability. the accounts kept at newburyport in connection with the company's business are in his handwriting and he attended to most of the correspondence with the st. john partners. the writer of this history has among his historic documents and papers a number of account books in a very fair state of preservation, containing in part the transactions of the company during the years they were in business at st. john. one of these, a book of nearly pages, ordinary foolscap size with stout paper cover, is of special interest for it contains the record of the initial transactions of the first business firm established at st. john a hundred and forty years ago. at the top of the first page are the words day book no. . . st. johns river. the book is intact and very creditably kept. the entries are in the hand writing of james white. the accounts during the continuance of the partnership were kept in new england currency or "lawful money of massachusetts." the letters l. m. were frequently employed to distinguish this currency from sterling money and nova scotia currency. the value of the massachusetts currency was in the proportion of £ sterling to £ . s. d. l. m.; the nova scotia dollar, or five shillings, was equivalent to six shillings l. m. it is a fact worth recording, that the massachusetts currency was used in all ordinary business transactions on the river st. john down to the time of the arrival of the loyalists in . this fact suffices to show how close were the ties that bound the pre-loyalist settlers of the province to new england, and it is scarcely a matter of surprise that during the revolution the massachusetts congress found many sympathizers on the river st. john. while accounts were kept according to the currency of new england, the amount of cash handled by simonds and white was insignificant. for years they supplied the settlers on the river with such things as they required often receiving their payment in furs and skins. in securing these the white inhabitants became such expert hunters and trappers as to arouse the jealousy of the indians and to give rise to the pseudo-nym "the bow and arrow breed," applied to them by some of the half-pay officers who settled among them at the close of the american revolution. with the indians the trade was almost entirely one of barter, the staple article being the fur of the spring beaver. the fur trade assumed large proportions at this period. the account books of simonds and white that are now in existence do not contain a complete record of all the shipments made from st. john, but they show that during ten years of uninterrupted trade from the time of their settlement at portland point to the outbreak of the revolution, they exported at least , beaver skins, , musquash, , marten, otter, fisher, mink, fox, sable, racoon, loup-cervier, wolverene, bear, nova scotia wolf, carriboo, deer, and , moose, besides , lbs. of castor and , lbs of feathers, the value of which according to invoice was £ , or about $ , . the prices quoted are but a fraction of those of modern days and by comparison appear ridiculously small. other traders were engaged in traffic with the indians also, and if messrs. simonds and white sent on an average , beaver skins to new england every year, it is manifest that the fur trade of the river was a matter of some consequence. james white was the principal agent in bartering with the indians who had every confidence in his integrity. three-fourths of their trade was in beaver skins and "a pound of spring beaver" (equivalent to shillings in value) was the unit employed in trade. mr. white was usually called by the indians "k'wabeet" or "beaver." it is said that in business with the indians the fist of mr. white was considered to weigh a pound and his foot two pounds both in buying and selling. but the same story is told of other indian traders. the indians were fond of finery and ornaments. among the articles sent by samuel blodget in were nine pairs of green, scarlet and blue plush breeches at a guinea each; one blue gold laced jacket and two scarlet gold laced jackets valued at £ each; also spotted ermine jackets, ruffled shirts and three gold laced beaver hats (value of the latter £ s. d.) these may seem extravagant articles for the indians yet their chiefs and captains bought them and delighted to wear them on special occasions.[ ] it was customary in trading with the savages to take pledges from them, for the payment of their debts, silver trinkets, armclasps, medals, fuzees, etc. in the autumn of a yankee privateer from machias, whose captain bore the singular name a. greene crabtree, plundered simonds & white's store at portland point and carried off a trunk full of indian pledges. this excited the indignation of the chiefs pierre thoma and francis xavier who sent the following communication to machias: "we desire you will return into the hands of mr. white at menaguashe the pledges belonging to us which were plundered last fall out of mr. hazen's store by a. greene crabtree, captain of one of your privateers; for if you don't send them we will come for them in a manner you won't like." [ ] col. john allan, of machias, had a conference with the indians at aukpaque in june, , and writes in his journal: "the chiefs made a grand appearance, particularly ambrose st. aubin, who was dressed in a blue persian silk waistcoat four inches deep, and scarlet knee breeches: also gold laced hat with white cockade." the goods kept in the store at portland point for the indian trade included powder and shot for hunting, provisions, blankets and other "necessaries" and such articles as indian needles, colored thread, beads of various colors, a variety of buttons--brass buttons, silver plated buttons, double-gilt buttons, scarlet buttons and blue mohair buttons--scarlet blue and red cloth, crimson broadcloth, red and blue stroud, silver and gold laced hats, gilt trunks, highland garters, silver crosses, round silver broaches, etc., etc. the old account books bear evidence of being well thumbed, for indian debts were not easy to collect, and white men's debts were harder to collect in ancient than in modern days. in point of fact the red man and the white man of the river st. john ran a close race in their respective ledgers. for in a statement of accounts rendered after the operations of the company had lasted rather more than two years, the debts due were as follows: from the english £ s. d. and from the indians £ s. d. old and thumb-worn as the account books are, written with ink that had often been frozen and with quill pens that often needed mending, they are extremely interesting as relics of the past, and are deserving of a better fate than that which awaited them when by the merest accident they were rescued from a dismal heap of rubbish. in their business at portland point, simonds and white kept four sets of accounts: one for their indian trade, a second for their business with the white inhabitants, a third for that with their own employees, and a fourth for that with the garrison at fort frederick. in glancing over the leaves of the old account books the first thing likely to attract attention is the extraordinary consumption of west india spirits and new england rum. this was by no means confined to the company's laborers, for at that time the use of rum as a beverage was almost universal. it was dispensed as an ordinary act of hospitality and even the preacher cheerfully accepted the proffered cup. it was used in winter to keep out the cold and in summer to keep out the heat. it was in evidence alike at a wedding or a funeral. no barn-raising or militia general muster was deemed to be complete without the jug, and in process of time the use of spirits was so habitual that peter fisher was able to quote statistics in to prove that the consumption of ardent liquors was nearly twenty gallons per annum for every male person above sixteen years of age. while the use of rum may be regarded as the universal custom of the day, at the same time tobacco was not in very general use. the use of snuff, however, was quite common. in the course of a few years the variety of articles kept in stock at the company's store increased surprisingly until it might be said they sold everything "from a needle to an anchor." the paces at which some of the staple articles were quoted appear in the foot note.[ ] among other articles in demand were fishing tackle, blue rattan and fear-nothing jackets, milled caps, woollen and check shirts, horn and ivory combs, turkey garters, knee buckles, etc. among articles that strike us as novel are to be found tin candlesticks, brass door knobs, wool cards, whip-saws, skates, razors and even mouse traps. writing paper was sold at s. d. per quire. the only books kept in stock were almanacks, psalters, spelling books and primers. [ ] flour pr. bbl., £ ; indian corn pr. bushel, shillings; potatoes do., s. d.; apples do., s. d.; butter pr. lb., d.; cheese pr. lb., d.; chocolate pr. lb., s.; tea per lb., s.; coffee per lb., s. d.; pepper pr. lb., s.; brown sugar d., per lb.; loaf sugar, s. d. per lb.; raisins, s. per lb.; tobacco, d. per lb.; salt, d. per peck; molasses, s. d. per gallon; new england rum, s. d. per quart; west india do., s. d. per quart; beef, d. per lb.; pork, d. per lb.; veal, - / d. per lb.; cider, s. to s. pr. bbl. boots, s.; men's shoes, s.; women's do., s.; men's pumps, s.; mittens, s. d. hose, s.; beaver hat, s.; black silk handkerchief, s. d.; check handkerchief, s. d.;. broadcloth, s pr. yd.; red stroud, s. per yd.; scarlet german serge, s. per yd.; scarlet shalloon, s. d. per yd.; english duck, s. d. pr. yd.; white blanket, s. d.; oz. thread, d.; doz. jacket buttons, - / d.; pins, m., d. axe, s. d.; knife, s.; board nails. s. d. per c.; ten penny nails, for d.; double tens, s. d. per c.; shingle nails, d. per c.; pane glass ( by ), d.; pewter porringer, s. d.; looking glass, s.; steel trap, s.; powder, s. d. per lb.; shot, d. per lb.; buckshot, s. d. per lb.; flints, d. still though the variety at first glance seems greater than might have been expected, a little further inspection will satisfy us that the life of that day was one of extreme simplicity, of luxuries there were few, and even the necessaries of life were sometimes scanty enough. one hundred and forty years have passed since james simonds and james white set themselves down at the head of saint john harbor as pioneers in trade to face with indomitable energy and perseverance the difficulties of their situation. these were neither few nor small, but they were massachusetts men and in their veins there flowed the blood of the puritans. the determination that enabled their progenitors to establish themselves around the shores of the old bay states upheld them in the scarcely less difficult task of creating for themselves a home amidst the rocky hillsides that encircled the harbor of st. john. today the old pioneers of would hardly recognize their ancient landmarks. the ruggedness of old men-ah-quesk has in a great measure disappeared; valleys have been filled and hills cut down. the mill-pond where stood the old tide mill is gone and the union depot with its long freight sheds and maze of railway tracks occupies its place. "mill" street and "pond" street alone remain to tell of what has been. the old grist mill near lily lake and its successors have long since passed away. it certainly was with an eye to business and not to pleasure, that hazen, simonds and white built the first roadway to rockwood park. could our pioneers in trade revisit the scene of their labors and note the changes time has wrought what would be their amazement? they would hardly recognize their surroundings. instead of rocks and crags covered with spruce and cedar, with here and there an open glade, and the wide spreading mud flats at low tide they would behold the wharves that line our shores, the ocean steamships lying in the channel, grain elevators that receive the harvests of canadian wheat-fields two thousand miles away, streets traversed by electric cars and pavements traversed by thousands of hurrying feet, bicyclists darting hither and thither, squares tastefully laid out and adorned with flowers, public buildings and residences of goodly proportions and by no means devoid of beauty, palatial hotels opening their doors to guests from every clime, institutions for the fatherless and the widow, the aged, the poor, the unfortunate, the sick the insane, churches with heaven directing spires, schools whose teachers are numbered by the hundred and pupils by the thousand, public libraries, courts of justice and public offices of nearly every description, business establishments whose agents find their way into every nook and corner of old-time acadie, railways and steamboats that connect the city with all parts of the globe, splendid bridges that span the rocky gorge at the mouth of the st. john where twice in the course of every twenty-four hours the battle, old as the centuries, rages between the outpouring torrent of the mighty river and the inflowing tide of the bay. a few years since the writer of this history in an article in the new brunswick magazine endeavored to contrast a saturday night of the olden time with one of modern days.[ ] [ ] new brunswick magazine of october, , p. . [illustration: a cottage of today.] "saturday night in the year --the summer sun sinks behind the hills and the glow of evening lights the harbor. at the landing place at portland point, one or two fishing boats are lying on the beach, and out a little from the shore a small square sterned schooner lies at her anchor. the natural lines of the harbor are clearly seen. in many places the forest has crept down nearly to the water's edge. wharves and shipping there are none. ledges of rock, long since removed, crop up here and there along the harbor front. the silence falls as the day's work is ended at the little settlement, and the sound of the waters rushing through the falls seems, in the absence of other sounds, unnaturally predominant. eastward of portland pond we see the crags and rocks of the future city of the loyalists, the natural ruggedness in some measure hidden by the growth of dark spruce and graceful cedar, while in the foreground lies the graceful curve of the "upper cove" where the forest fringes the waters edge. we may easily cross in the canoe of some friendly indian and land where, ten years later, the loyalists landed, but we shall find none to welcome us. the spot is desolate, and the stillness only broken by the occasional cry of some wild animal, the song of the bird in the forest and the ripple of waves on the shore. the shadows deepen as we return to the point, and soon the little windows of the settlers' houses begin to glow. there are no curtains to draw or blinds to pull down or shutters to close in these humble dwellings, but the light, though unobstructed shines but feebly, for 'tis only the glimmer of a tallow candle that we see or perhaps the flickering of the firelight from the open chimney that dances on the pane. in the homes of the dwellers at st. john saturday night differs little from any other night. the head of the house is not concerned about the marketing or telephoning to the grocer; the maid is not particularly anxious to go "down town;" the family bath tub may be produced (and on monday morning it will be used for the family washing), but the hot water will not be drawn from the tap. the family retire at an early hour, nor are their slumbers likely to be disturbed by either fire alarm or midnight train. and yet in the olden times the men, we doubt not, were wont to meet on saturday nights at the little store at the point to compare notes and to talk over the few topics of interest in their monotonous lives. we seem to see them even now--a little coterie--nearly all engaged in the company's employ, mill hands, fishermen, lime-burners, laborers, while in a corner james white pores over his ledger posting his accounts by the light of his candle and now and again mending his goose-quill pen. but even at the store the cheerful company soon disperses; the early-closing system evidently prevails, the men seek their several abodes and one by one the lights in the little windows vanish. there is only one thing to prevent the entire population from being in good time for church on sunday morning, and that is there is not any church for them to attend. then and now! we turn from our contemplation of saturday night as we have imagined it in to look at a modern saturday night in st. john. no greater contrast can well be imagined. where once were dismal shades of woods and swamps, there is a moving gaily-chattering crowd that throngs the walks of union, king and charlotte streets. the feeble glimmer of the tallow candle in the windows of the few houses at portland point has given place to the blaze of hundreds of electric lights that shine far out to sea, twinkling like bright stars in the distance, and reflected from the heavens, serving to illuminate the country for miles around. our little knot of villagers in the olden days used to gather in their one little store to discuss the day's doing; small was the company, and narrow their field of observation; and their feeble gossip is today replaced by the rapid click of the telegraph instruments, the rolling of the steam-driven printing press and the cry of the newsboy at every corner; the events of all the continents are proclaimed in our streets almost as soon as they occur. and yet from all the luxury and ease, as well as from the anxiety and cares of busy modern days, we like sometimes to escape and get a little nearer to the heart of nature and to adopt a life of rural simplicity not far removed from that which once prevailed at portland point, content with some little cottage, remote from the hurry and din of city life in which to spend the good old summer time." chapter xviii. st. john and its business one hundred and forty years ago. the circumstances under which the trading company of blodget, simonds, hazen, peaslie, white and richard simonds was organized in have been already described. the original contract is yet in existence and in a very excellent state of preservation. it is endorsed "contract for st. johns & passamaquodi."[ ] a fac-simile of the signatures appended to it is here given. [ ] the contract was drawn with much care and has been preserved in the collections of the n. b. historical society, vol. i., p. . [illustration: signatures] a short account may be given of each member of the partnership. samuel blodget was a boston man, somewhat older than the other members of the company, careful and shrewd, possessed of some money and little learning. he had been associated with william hazen in contracts for supplying the troops on lake champlain in the recent french war; there seems to have been also a remote family connection between samuel blodget and james simonds. mr. blodget's connection with the company lasted a little more than two years. during this time a considerable part of the furs, fish, lime and lumber obtained by simonds and white at the river st. john were consigned to him at boston. in return blodget supplied goods for the indian trade and other articles needed, but his caution proved a source of dissatisfaction to the other partners and hazen & jarvis at the end of the first year's business wrote to simonds & white, "mr. blodget tells us that he never expected to advance more than a quarter of the outsets. we think in this he does not serve us very well, as we can't see into the reason of our advancing near three-quarters and doing more than ten times the business and his having an equal share of the profits. pray give us your opinion on that head. you may rest assured that we will not leave one stone unturned to keep you constantly supply'd and believe, even if we should not have the requisite assistance from mr. blodget, we shall be able to effect it." to this james simonds replies, "with respect to mr. blodget's not advancing more than precisely / part of the outsets is what i never before understood; i am sure by his situation that he can do but a little part of the business and therefore think he ought to excell in his proportion of supplys rather than to fall short." a second year of the partnership passed and samuel blodget became exceedingly serious about the ultimate outcome of the venture. he wrote a letter on the th march, , to simonds & white of which the extract that follows is a part: "i have been largely concerned in partnerships before now but never so ignorant of any as of the present, which i am willing to impute it to your hurry of business, but let me tell you that partners are in a high degree guilty of imprudence to continue a large trade for two years without settling or knowing whether they have lost a hundred pounds or not--although they may be ever so imersed in business, for the sooner they stop the better, provided they are losing money--as it seames in mr. hazen's oppinion we have lost money--perhaps you may know to the contrary. but then how agreable would it be to me (who have a large sum in your hands) to know as much as you do. pray suffer me to ask you, can you wonder to find me anxious about my interest when i am so ignorant what it is in? i am sure you don't gent'n. i am not in doubt of your integrity. i think i know you both two well. but common prudence calls loudly upon us all to adjust our accounts as soon as may be. i have not the least line under yours and mr. white's hands that the articles which we signed the first years, which was dated the first of march, ,--which was but for one yeare--should continue to the present time, nor do i doubt your onour, but still mortallety requiyers it to be done and i should take it coind to receive such a righting sent by both of you." mr. blodget's uneasiness as to the outcome of the business was set at rest very shortly after he wrote the above, for on april th hazen and jarvis tell their partners at st. john:-- "we have purchased mr. blodget's interest, for which we are to pay him his outsetts. we are in hopes that we shall be able to carry on the business better without than with him. * * we must beg you would be as frugal as possible in the laying out of any money that benefits will not be immediately reaped from, and that you will make as large remittances as you possibly can to enable us to discharge the company's debt to blodget, for we shall endeavor all in our power to discharge our obligations to him as we do not chuse to lay at his mercy." thus it appears that if samuel blodget's two years connection with the company was not greatly to his advantage, it did him no material injury. from this time he ceases to have any interest for us in the affairs at portland point. james simonds, whose name is second among the signers of the business contract of , may be regarded as the founder of the first permanent settlement at the mouth of the river st. john. his most remote ancestor in america was william simonds of woburn, massachusetts. this william simonds married judith phippen, who came to america in the ship "planter" in . tradition says that as the vessel drew near her destination land was first described by judith phippen, which proved to be the headland now called "point judith." among the passengers of the "planter" were the ancestors of many well known families in america, bearing the familiar names of peabody, perley, beardsley, carter, hayward, reed, lawrence, cleveland, davis and peters. in judith phippen became the wife of william simonds. the house in which they lived at woburn, mass., and where their twelve children were born, is probably yet standing--at least it was when visited a few years since by one of their descendants living in this province. william simonds' tenth child, james, was the grandfather of our old portland point pioneer. he married susanna blodget and their sixth child, nathan, was the father of james simonds, who came to st. john. nathan simonds married sarah hazen of haverhill, an aunt of william hazen, and their oldest child james (the subject of this sketch) was born at haverhill, december , . james simonds, as mentioned in a former chapter, served in "the old french war" and was with his cousin captain john hazen in the campaign against fort ticonderoga. his subsequent career we have already touched upon and he will naturally continue to be a leading character in the story of the early history of st. john. he was evidently a man of stout constitution and vigor of body, for he not only survived all his contemporaries who came to st. john, but he outlived every member of the first new brunswick legislature and every official appointed by the crown at the organization of the province. he passed to his rest in the house he had built at portland point at the patriarchal age of years. his widow hannah (peabody) simonds died in at the age of years. of james simonds' large family of fourteen children several were prominent in the community. hon. charles simonds was for years the leading citizen of portland. he was born the same year the loyalists landed in st. john, and was a member for st. john county in the house of assembly from until his death in , filling during that time the positions of speaker and leader of the government. hon. richard simonds, born in , represented the county of northumberland in the house of assembly when but twenty-one years of age and sat from to , when he was appointed treasurer of the province. he filled for a short time the position of speaker of the assembly, and from until his death in was a member of the legislative council. sarah, one of the daughters of james simonds, married (sept. , ) thomas millidge, the ancestor of the millidges of st. john; her youngest sister eliza married (aug. , ) henry gilbert, merchant of st. john, from whom the members of this well known family are descended. william hazen, the third of the signers of the partnership contract, was born in haverhill july , . his great-grandfather, edward hazen, the first of the name in america, was a resident of rowley, massachusetts, as early as the year . by his wife hannah grant he had four sons and seven daughters. the youngest son richard, born august , , inherited the large estate of his stepfather, george browne, of haverhill. this richard hazen was grandfather of james simonds as well as of william hazen; he married mary peabody and had a family of five sons and six daughters (one of the latter was the mother of james simonds.) the third son, moses hazen was the ancestor of the hazens of new brunswick. the wife of moses hazen was abigail white, aunt of james white who came to st. john. their sons john, moses and william have a special interest for us. john, the oldest distinguished himself as a captain of the massachusetts troops in the french war. he married anne swett of haverhill, and had a son john, who came with his uncle william to st. john in and settled at burton on the river st. john, where he married dr. william mckinstry's daughter, priscilla, and had a family of twelve children. j. douglas hazen, of st. john, m. p. p., for sunbury county, is one of his descendants. moses hazen, the second son has been mentioned as commander of one of the companies of the fort frederick garrison in ; he became a brigadier general in the american army in the revolutionary war. william hazen, the third son and co-partner of simonds and white, was born in haverhill, july , . he married, july , , sarah le baron of plymouth. their family was even larger than that of james simonds and included sixteen children. of these elizabeth married the elder ward chipman, judge of the supreme court, and at the time of his death in administrator of government; sarah lowell married thomas murray (grandfather of the late miss frances murray of st. john, one of the cleverest women the province has ever produced) and after his early decease became the wife of judge william botsford--their children were senator botsford, george botsford and dr. le baron botsford; charlotte married general sir john fitzgerald; frances amelia married col. charles drury of the imperial army, father of the late ward chipman drury. among the more distinguished descendants of william hazen by the male line were hon. robert l. hazen--popularly known as "curly bob"--recorder of the city of st. john, a very eminent leader in our provincial politics and at the time of his death a canadian senator; also robert f. hazen who was mayor of st. john and one of its most influential citizens. the elder william hazen died in at the age of years. his eldest daughter, mrs. chipman, died at the chipman house may , , the sixty-ninth anniversary of the landing of the loyalists and her son, chief justice chipman, died november , , the sixty seventh anniversary of the organisation of the first supreme court of the province. the widow of chief justice chipman died the th of july, , the centennial of the declaration of independence. and finally a william hazen, of the fourth generation, died june , , the same day on which his ancestor left newburyport for st. john one hundred and ten years before. the first three signers of the articles of partnership under which business was undertaken at st. john in , viz. samuel blodget, james simonds and william hazen, had each one-quarter interest in the business, the junior partners, robert peaslie, james white and richard simonds had only one-twelfth part each. the articles of partnership provided that james simonds and the three junior partners should proceed to st. john as soon as possible, and there do what business was necessary to be done during the co-partnership, and that samuel blodget and william hazen should remain at boston an newburyport to forward supplies and receive what might be sent from st. john or elsewhere by the company. for some reason robert peaslie did not go to st. john. he married anna hazen, a sister of william hazen, and settled in haverhill, retiring not long afterwards from the company. another of the junior partners, richard simonds, lost his life, as already stated, on the th january, , in the defence of the property of the company when the indians were about to carry it off. in the autumn of the year , leonard jarvis, then a young man of twenty-two years of age, entered into partnership with william hazen at newburyport and became, by common consent, a sharer in the business at st. john. he was a man of ability and education. the accounts kept at newburyport in connection with the business are in his handwriting, and he conducted the correspondence of hazen & jarvis with simonds & white in a manner that would do no discredit to a modern business house. in a letter of the rd april, , mr. jarvis informs james simonds that "mr. peaslie has determined to settle down in haverhill and to leave this concern, and as by this means and the death of your brother, in which we sincerely condole with you, one-eighth part of the concern becomes vacant, we propose to let mr. white have one-eighth and to take three-eighths ourselves--this you will please consult mr. white upon and advice us. * * * we must beg you will send all the accts. both you and mr. white have against the company, and put us in a way to settle with mr. peaslie." james white, the fifth signer of the articles of partnership, was born in haverhill in , and was a lineal descendant of the worshipful william white, one of the well-known founders of the place. he served as ensign or lieutenant in a massachusetts regiment, but after the fall of quebec retired from active service and entered the employ of william tailer and samuel blodget, merchants of boston, at a very modest salary, as appears from the following:-- "memorandum of an agreement made this day between william tailer & co., with james white, that we, the said tailer & co., do allow him the said james white twenty dollars pr. month as long as the said white is in their service at crown point as clark. "william tailer & co. "test: geo. willmot. "crown point, july st, ." james white's papers, now in possession of a gentleman in st. john, show that he was engaged in the business of tailer and blodget at crown point continuously from september, , to july, ; consequently the statement, commonly made, that he came to st. john with francis peabody, james simonds, hugh quinton and their party in is a mistake. in the early part of james white was employed by samuel blodget in business transactions in haverhill, new salem and bradford. the first occasion on which he set foot on the shores of st. john was when he landed there with james simonds and the party that established themselves at portland point in the month of april, . the important part he played in the early affairs of st. john will abundantly appear in these pages. he was one of the most active and energetic men of his generation and filled several offices in the old county of sunbury, of which county he was sheriff. this office seems to have had special attractions for the white family, for his son james was sheriff of the city and county of st. john for more than thirty years, and one of his daughters married sheriff deveber of queens county. mr. white was collector of customs at st. john when the loyalists landed. the emoluments of this office were small, for in the year only a dozen vessels entered and cleared at st. john, the largest of but tons burden. james white spent the closing years of his life on his farm at the head of the marsh about three miles from the city of st. john. his residence was known as gretna green, from the fact that a good many quiet weddings were celebrated by the old squire, who was one of the magistrates specially commissioned to solemnize marriages. he died in at the age of years. having now spoken of the individuals composing st. john's first trading company, the nature of the business pursued claims a little attention. the task that lay before james simonds and james white was no easy one. difficulties, many of them entirely unforseen, had to be faced and the great diversity of their business rendered their situation arduous and sometimes discouraging. at one time the fishery claimed their attention, at another bartering with the indians, at another the erection of houses for themselves and their tenants, at another the dyking of the marsh, at another the erection of a mill, at another the building of a schooner, at another laying out roads and clearing lands, at another the burning of a lime-kiln, at another furnishing supplies for the garrison at the fort, at another the building of a wharf or the erection of a store-house. communication with new england in these days was slow and uncertain and often the non-arrival of a vessel, when the stock of provisions had run low, caused a good deal of grumbling on the part of the hands employed. this was particularly the case if the supply of rum chanced to run out. the wages of the laborers employed by the company were generally s. d., or half a dollar, a day and they boarded themselves. as a rule the men took up their wages at the store and the item most frequently entered against their names was new england rum. the writer had the curiosity to examine the charges for rum in one of the old day books for a period of a month--the month selected at random--when it appeared that, of a dozen laborers, four men averaged half a pint each per day, while with the other eight men the same allowance lasted three days. tea, the great modern beverage, was rather a luxury and appears to have been used sparingly and rum, which retailed at pence a pint, was used almost universally. human nature was much the same in the eighteenth as in the twentieth century. the men often drank to excess, and some of them would have been utterly unreliable but for the fact that simonds and white were masters of the situation and could cut off the supply. they generally doled out the liquor by half pints and gills to their laborers. on one occasion we find mr. simonds writing, "the men are in low spirts, have nothing to eat but pork and bread, and nothing but water to drink. knowing this much i trust you will lose no time in sending to our relief." at various times the privations were exceedingly great and even after the little colony had been for some years established at portland point they suffered for lack of the necessaries of life. mr. simonds thus describes their experience in the early part of : "most difficult to remedy and most distressing was the want of provisions and hay. such a scene of misery of man and beast we never saw before. there was not anything of bread kind equal to a bushel of meal for every person when the schooner sailed for newbury the th of february (three months ago) and less of meat and vegetables in proportion--the indians and hogs had part of that little." he goes on to say that the flour that had just arrived in the schooner was wet and much damaged; no indian corn was to be had; for three months they had been without molasses or coffee, nor had they any tea except of the spruce variety. in one of his letters, written a few months after the commencement of operations at st. john, simonds urges the careful attention of blodget and hazen to their part of the business, observing: "i hope if i sacrifice my interest, ease, pleasure of good company, and run the risque even of life itself for the benefit of the company, those who live where the circumstances are every way the reverse will in return be so good as to take every pains to dispose of all effects remitted to them to the best advantage." the first year of the company's operations was in some respects phenomenal. on the th september, , a very severe shock of an earthquake occurred at st. john about o'clock, noon. the winter that followed was one of unusual severity with storms that wrought much damage to shipping. leonard jarvis wrote to james simonds on april , , "there has not been in the memory of man such a winter as the last and we hope there never will be again." mr. simonds in his reply says "the winter has been much here as in new england." in the same letter just referred to mr. jarvis says: "we hope in future, by keeping the schooner constantly running between this place and yours, that we shall be able to surmount our greatest difficulties. at present we can only say that nothing shall be wanting on our parts (and we are well assured that you will continue to endeavour) to make this concern turn out in the end an advantageous one. it would give us great pleasure could we ease you of part of your burden and know what difficulties you have to go through * * we have sent you by this schooner some table linen and what other table furniture we thought you might have occasion for. if there is anything more wanting to make you not only comfortable but genteel, beg you would advise us and we will furnish you with it by the return of the schooner wilmot." in reply to this mr. simonds writes, "i am obliged to you for sending some furniture, for truly none was ever more barely furnished than we were before. gentility is out of the question." the business of simonds and white was not confined to st. john, they had quite an important post for the indian trade and the fishery on an island adjacent to campobello, now known as indian island. and it may be observed in passing that this was an island of many names. james boyd, a scotchman who lived there in , called it jeganagoose--evidently a form of misignegoos, the name by which it is known to the indians of passamaquoddy. a french settler named la treille lived there in , and this explains the origin of the name latterell island, applied to it in early times. in the grant of it is called perkins island. this place owing to its proximity to new england had been the first to attract mr. simonds' notice. the smaller vessels of the company, such as the sloops "bachelor" and "peggy & molly" and the schooners "eunice" and "polly," were for several years employed in fishing at passamaquoddy from april to october. the masters of the vessels received £ per month for their services. the crews employed were for the most part engaged by hazen and jarvis and at the close of the season returned to their homes in new england. it was the custom for a year or two for one of the partners, simonds or white, to attend at passamaquoddy during the fishing season. from to isaac marble of newburyport was their principal "shoresman." the partners had a keen eye to business; on one occasion they purchased a whale from the indians and tried out the oil, but this seems to have been merely a stray monster of the deep for, in answer to the query of hazen & jarvis, james simonds writes, "with respect to whaling, don't think the sort of whales that are in passamaquada bay can be caught." it was from passamaquoddy that the first business letter extant of the company's correspondence was written by james simonds to william hazen on the th august, . the business was then in an experimental stage, and mr. simonds in this letter writes, "if you & mr. blodget think it will be best to carry on business largely at st. john's we must have another house with a cellar; the latter is now dug and stoned & will keep apples, potatoes & other things that will not bear the frost, for a large trade; this building will serve as a house and store, the old store for a cooper's shop. if the lime answers well we shall want hogsheads with hoops and boards for heads; also boards for a house, some glass, etc., bricks for chimney and hinges for two doors. i think the business at st. john's may be advantageous, if not too much entangled with the other. we can work at burning lime, catching fish in a large weir we have built for bass up the river at the place where we trade with the indians, trade with the soldiers and inhabitants, etc. next winter we can employ the oxen at sleding wood and lime stone, mr. middleton at making casks; don't think it best to keep any men at passamaquada [for the winter]." it was the intention of simonds & white to bring the hands employed at passamaquoddy to st. john in a sloop expected in the fall with goods and stores, but on the th december we find mr. simonds writing to blodget & hazen, "have long waited with impatience for the arrival of the sloop; have now given her over for lost. all the hopes i have is that the winds were contrary in new england as they were here all the fall; that detained her until too late and you concluded not to send her. we had a fine prospect of a good trade last fall, and had the goods come in season should by this time have disposed of them to great advantage; but instead of that we have missed collecting the greater part of our indian debts, as they expected us up the river and have not been here on that account.... i have not heard from passamaquada for six weeks, but fear they have little or no provisions, and am sure they have no hay for a cow that is there. she being exceeding good, shall endeavor to save her life till you can send hay for her. i shall go there as soon as the weather moderates (it has been intensely cold lately) and employ the men there as well as i can, as they are confined there contrary to intention for the winter, and return here as soon as possible." the non-arrival of provisions for the men and of hay for the oxen mr. simonds deplores as likely to overthrow all pans for the winter. they had intended to use the oxen to sled wood and lime-stone--a much easier way than carting in the summer. he says, "we have stone dug for hogsheads of lime and near wood enough cut to burn it; that must now lay till carting, and we shift as well as we can to employ our men so as not to have them run us in debt. * * can think of nothing better than to make a resolute push up the river with our men, employ some of them at making lumber, others at clearing land and fitting it for grain in the spring." the company had some formidable rivals at passamaquoddy for the next spring we find james simonds telling hazen & jarvis, "there is such a number of traders at passamaquoddy that i don't expect much trade there this spring: have prevailed with the commandant at fort frederick to stop them going up this river: there has been no passing the falls till now (may th) by reason of the freshet. shall go over this afternoon and proceed directly to ocpaque, an indian village eighty miles up the river." notwithstanding the favor shown them by the commandant of the garrison, simonds & white found rivals in the indian trade even an the river st. john. among the earliest were john anderson and captain isaac caton. the minutes of the council of nova scotia show that on august , , license was granted mr. anderson to occupy acres of any lands unappropriated on the st. john river, and under date june , , we have the following:-- "license is hereby granted to john anderson to traffick with the tribes of indians on st. john's river and in the bay of fundy, he conducting himself without fraud or violence and submitting himself to the observance of such regulations as may at any time hereafter be established for the better ordering of such commerce. this license to continue during pleasure." anderson selected as his location the site of villebon's old fort at the mouth of the nashwaak, where he obtained in , a grant of , acres of land, built himself a dwelling house and established a trading post convenient to the indian village of aukpaque, a few miles above. he had the honor to be the first magistrate on the river st. john, his commission dating august , ; the next appointed was colonel beamsley p. glacier, on th october, same year. john anderson obtained his goods and supplies of martin gay, merchant of boston, and one charles martin was his bookkeeper and assistant. he called his place "monkton," a name it retained for many years.[ ] early in anderson had the misfortune to lose a vessel laden with goods for the india trade. james simonds mentions this incident in a letter to hazen & jarvis and remarks: "we imagine the loss of mr. anderson's vessel will cause more trade to come to us than we should have had if she had gone safe." [ ] the ferry between fredericton and the nashwaak was called in early times monkton ferry. captain isaac caton was granted a licence "to traffick with the indians on saint john's river and the bay of fundy," on nov'r. , . he probably made his headquarters at the old french trading post on the historic island of emenemic, in long reach, of which he was a grantee about thus time, and which has since been called caton's island. simonds and white did not find the indian trade entirely to their liking and after a few years experience wrote (under date june , ), "the indian debts we cannot lessen being obliged to give them new credit as a condition of their paying their old debts. they are very numerous at this time but have made bad hunts; we have got a share of their peltry, as much as all the others put together, and hope soon to collect some more. there is scarcely a shilling of money in the country. respecting goods we think it will be for our advantage not to bring any toys and trinkets (unnecessary articles) in sight of the indians, and by that means recover them from their bankruptcy. they must have provisions and coarse goods for the winter, and if we have a supply of those articles, by keeping a store here and up the river make no doubt of having most of the trade. shall have a store ready by september next, and hope to have it finished by the last of that month." [illustration: ice-jam above government house, fredericton, march, .] the store was built near the site of government house and according to moses h. perley it was carried away by one of those periodical ice-jams for which the vicinity of st. ann's point has been noted from time immemorial. see illustration on preceding page of a recent ice-jam at this place. another store was built and benjamin atherton took charge of it. in addition to trade with the indians he did business with the white settlers under the name and title of atherton & co. furs and produce were frequently transported to st. john from the post at st. anns in summer in gondolas and in the winter on ice by means of horses and sleds. the volume of business in the aggregate was quite large for those days. in addition to the exportation of furs and peltry to the value of $ , , the company sent to new england and the west indies large quantities of pollock, mackerel and codfish taken in the bay. the gasperaux fishery at st. john was also an important factor in their trade; in the seven years previous to the revolutionary war simonds & white shipped to boston , barrels of gasperaux valued at about $ , . they also shipped quantities of bass, shad, salmon and sturgeon. perhaps their profits would have been even greater had not many of the men who were at other times in their employ engaged in fishing on their own account. the community was not an ideal one for mr. simonds writes: "in the spring we must go into the weirs every tide to keep our men from selling bait to the fishermen for rum, which is not only attended with the loss of the fish so sold, but of the men's time who would drink so to excess as not to be able to do anything." in the champlain's map of st. john harbor and its surroundings a lake or pond is shown at the spot where the union depot and freight sheds stand today. at the outlet of this pond a dam and tide mill were built by simonds and white in the year . the mill was put in operation the next season and from that day to this lumber has been one of st. john's staple articles of export. primitive as was this saw-mill some difficulty was experienced in procuring proper hands to run it. james simonds in his letter of june , , to hazen & jarvis writes: "the sloop bachelor did not return from up the river before this morning. we have but few fish; the men that undertook the weirs were very slow and unfaithful, and not only neglected the fisheries but the mill also, for which reason we have not a full load for the sloop. the mill we have not nor shall be able to keep at work without more and better hands; have four less than we ought to have for different branches of work, if all of them was good boys, and with those that are bad must make a bad figure. we have promised to hogsheads lime to mr. best of halifax and hourly expect a vessel for it, and have encouragement of a contract for the king's works there; expect nothing but to disappoint him as that rascal negro west cannot be flattered or drove to do one fourth of a man's work; shall give him a strong dose on monday morning which will make him better or worse, no dependence can be put on him. * * we want three men, one that understands tending a mill and two teamsters, which we beg you will send in next vessel." the correspondence of the partners shows that the manufacture of lime continued to engage their attention. the first kiln was built in rear of the store and dwellings at portland point near the base of fort howe hill. when james simonds visited halifax in september, , he wrote a very interesting letter to samuel blodget in which he says: "i have been with the king's chief mason; have shewn him a sample of our lime; he likes it well and gives me encouragement that he will take all of me that he wants either for public or private use (he is the only dealer in town) at a rate that will net at st. john's three dollars or more pr. hogshead." several coopers were sent from newburyport by hazen & jarvis to manufacture hogsheads for the lime business, one hogshead being considered about as much as a man could make in a day. with the view of securing a more desirable class of employees the company began at this time to take into their service married men with families for whose accommodation they built comfortable log houses. yet even here there were disappointments, as we learn from another of mr. simonds' letters in which he says: "our help mostly failed us last fall, and the hay season was the wettest that was ever known, which prevented our having a sufficient quantity of lime-stone dug and wood cut to employ the teams to good advantage. * * old abbot (the cooper) did not do one day's work for sixty days after his wife arrived; no dependence can be placed on him, and as stevens goes a fishing in the spring on his own account we shall want another cooper and three labourers. it will make a material difference if these men are of a tractable disposition." the lime manufactured was shipped to halifax, boston and the west indies, and on one occasion a cargo was sent to newfoundland. there is in possession of the hazen family an inventory of the property of the company at st. john, dated the th of february, , which will give the reader some little idea of the nature of the company's business and the condition of their trading post at portland point at this time. the inventory is as follows: list of company effects at st. john. dwelling house by , part finished £ . . building by , rough boarded, improved for cooper's shop & kitchen . . log store by , without floor . . barn by . . log house by , occupied by black . . house by , occupied by bradley . . well feet deep . . necessary house . . lime kiln . . gondalo . . wherry . . large seines . . cart s., sleds, s. . . drag s., harrow s. . . iron bars s., crow-bar s . . stone hammers @ s. . . spades @ s. d., shovels @ s. . . broad axe s., narrow axes @ s. . . old axes @ s. . . whipsaw s., cross cut do. s. . . augers s., chisels s. . iron squares, s., pitch forks s. . . hoes @ s. d. . set cooper's tools . . nail hammers s., plough s. . . scythes @ s., pick axes @ s. . . chains . . beetle s. d., wedges s. . hogsheads lime stone at ye kiln @ s. d. . . hogsheads at the quarry dug @ s. . . cords wood at kiln @ s. d. . . cords wood in ye woods & s. d. . . wire s., spruce logs at the water s. . . pine logs at the falls worth . . pine logs scattered in ye river @ s. . . oxen worth at st. john . . cows . . pair year old steers . . bull s., do. s. . . sheep @ s., hogs @ s. . . burch canoe . . carpenter's adzes @ s., drills @ s. . . pairs snow shoes @ s. d. . . steel plated handsaws @ s. . set mill irons . . m staves shaved and joined . . ---------- £ . . there is also an inventory of the goods in the company's store at this time, which were valued at £ . the goods were such as were needed by the white settlers up the river as well as for the indian trade. there was quite a varied assortment, yet the many deficiencies indicate the simplicity of living then in vogue. the list of household goods and chattels, the property of simonds and white, was a very meagre one indeed. the more common and necessary articles of furniture such as bedsteads, tables, benches, etc., were probably manufactured on the premises by means of the carpenter's axe, adze, hammer and saw. in addition they had a small supply of bedding, camp chairs, desk, writing desk, lamp, iron candlesticks, ink stand. dishes-- pewter plates, pewter platters, pewter porringers, metal teapots, stone plates, stone platter, stone jug, earthen teapot, china cups and saucers, quart basons, punch bowls. cutlery, etc.-- - / doz. case knives and forks, - / doz. spoons, large spoon, silver tea spoons. kitchen utensils-- frying pans, tea kettles, chafing dish, cullender, iron pots, brass kettle, quart pots, two-quart pots, pints, tin kettles, pail, pair dogs, shovel and tongs, tea-chest, coffee mill, pairs steel yards, beam scale, sets weights. the total value of household articles was but £ , , , and it is doubtful whether the personal belongings of simonds and white would have added much to the common stock. no wonder james simonds observed with grim humor, as he described life at st. john in those days, "gentility is out of the question." william hazen was afraid the business during the first year had been unprofitable, and at the end of the year called for a settlement of accounts in order to find out the exact state of affairs. james simonds wrote: "we are sensible of the necessity of settling our accts. soon, but have always been obliged to work so much abroad as not to be able to have our books posted up, besides the necessity of taking an exact acct. of all goods on hand and making an exact computation of the cost of all buildings and works cannot be hurried over and would require time. we could have had all those things ready, but must have neglected completing preparations for the winter's work, which we think would be far greater damage to us than the accts. remaining unfinished for a few months and for us to finish them in the winter evenings." doubtless the winter evenings were entirely at their disposal. there were no social engagements to fill, no societies to attend, no places of amusement to while away the hours. the church, the lodge room, the club were reserved for coming generations. even the satisfaction to be derived from good, general reading was wanting for an inventory of household effects made in shows that mr. simonds owned a bible and prayer book and mr. white a bible and a copy of watt's psalms and hymns, and the only other book of which mention can be found is an almanac. it would seem that one at least of the partners was fond of fiction, for samuel blodget writes in a letter to james white--the latter then at crown point--dec. , : "i confess i was a little surprised att your opinion of roderick random, for it is allowed by all that i ever heard judg of it, that it is a well wrote novell." no account of the business of st. john during the period of the operations of its finest trading company, would be complete without some mention of its shipping. naturally it was the day of small things with the future "winter port" of canada. the ship that bore de monts and champlain to the bay of fundy in the month of june, , was a little vessel of tons, smaller than some of our coasting schooners of today; but the vessels employed in the business of hazen, simonds and white and their associates, were smaller still, ranging from ten to eighty tons burden. the qualities essential to successful navigation--pluck, enterprise and skill--were admirably displayed by the hardy mariners of new england, the pioneers of commerce in the bay of fundy. in their day there were no light houses, or beacons, or fog-horns and even charts were imperfect, yet there were few disasters. the names of jonathan leavitt and his contemporaries are worthy of a foremost place in our commercial annals. the following list of the vessels owned or chartered by hazen, simonds and white in their business at st. john, a. d. - , is probably as complete as at this distance of time it can be made: names of vessels and masters. schooner wilmot, william story. " polly, jon. leavitt, jas. stickney, henry brookings. " eunice, james stickney. " betsy, jonathan leavitt. " seaflower, benjamin batchelder, jonathan leavitt. " sunbury, jonathan leavitt, daniel leavitt. " essex; isaac marble. sloop bachelor, william story. " peggy & molly, henry brookings " merrimack, jon. leavitt, samuel perkins, daniel leavitt. " st. john's paquet, richard bartelott, hen. brookings, joseph jellings. " speedwell, nathaniel newman " dolphin, daniel dow. " woodbridge, david stickney. " sally, nathaniel newman. " deborah, edward atwood. " kingfisher, jonathan eaton. of the vessels enumerated the schooners wilmot, polly, eunice and betsy and the sloops bachelor, peggy & molly, merimack and st. john's paquet were owned by the company. for some years the company paid insurance at the rate of per cent. on the vessels and their cargoes, but the insurance was obtained with difficulty and after a time was discontinued on the ground that the business would not bear the expense. when the partnership was formed in , the company owned the schooner polly of tons, the sloop bachelor of tons, and the sloop peggy & molly of tons. the same year isaac johnson of newburyport built for them the schooner wilmot of tons and james simonds paid £ as his share of her hull. samuel blodget purchased in boston a quantity of yarns, strands and cordage, which were delivered by wm. hazen to crocker, a ropemaker of newburyport, to be worked up for the schooners polly and wilmot, the sloop bachelor and the sloop peggy & molly. the company afterwards bought or built the schooners eunice and betsy and the sloops merrimack and st. john's paquet. the sloop merrimack was a square sterned vessel of tons, built at newburyport in . she was hired for the company's service in and purchased for them in by hazen & jarvis for £ . james simonds says she was then a mere hulk entirely unfit for sea, but after being repaired was employed in coasting to st. john and in carrying lumber to the west indies. william hazen and his family had good reason to remember the merrimack, for it was in this vessel they embarked for their new home in st. john in the month of may, . they were cast away on fox island and in addition to the discomfort experienced, many of theirs personal belongings and some valuable papers connected with the company's business were lost. the crew and passengers were rescued and brought to st. john in a sloop of captain drinkwater's, the captain consenting to throw overboard his load of cordwood to make room for the rescued party and their possessions. most of mr. hazen's valuables and the rigging and stores of the merrimack were saved. the sloop st. john's paquet was another vessel that had an unfortunate experience. she made occasional voyages from st. john to st. croix in the west indies. in the year she sailed from st. john with a cargo of lime for newburyport, having on board william hazen, who had been on one of his periodical business trips to st. john. simonds and white asked to have the sloop and cargo insured, but hazen says the reason they gave, namely, that the paquet was "an unlucky vessel," did not make any impression on the minds of himself or mr. jarvis, and, as it was a good season of the year, they did not effect it. the vessel unfortunately proved true to her reputation. she got on the shoals at newburyport and taking "a rank heel" got water amongst her lime, which set her on fire. the sloop and her cargo were sold in consequence for £ where she lay. the vessel was afterwards hired by hazen & jarvis and again sent to st. john to load for the west indies. the wilmot proved unfit for the company's business and on may , . hazen & jarvis wrote their partners: "we have purchased a very good and valuable cargo for the schooner wilmot. it consists of oxen, cows, calves, flour, cyder, boards and bricks, and we have sent her under care of captain beck to newfoundland for sale. we hope we will get a good price for her." this hope was not realized, for the schooner lost her deckload of cattle in a storm and the voyage was unprofitable. during the earlier years of the partnership the schooners eunice and polly, sloop peggy & molly and other small vessels were employed from april to october in fishing in the bay of fundy and at passamaquoddy. the correspondence of the company contains many references to this important branch of business, a few of which are to be found in the footnotes below.[ ] [ ] "the sloop bachellor is now ready to sail; the contents of cargo quintles cod and pollock of her crew's catching, do. of hunt's. the great sloop arrived ten days ago; has made but an ordinary fare, said to be quintles. will sail with dry fish in about a fortnight. * * pollock will sell best in the country, pray sell as many that sort as is possible." [letter of james simonds written from "passamaquada," th august, .] "leavitt in the polly has just arrived from annapolis; he says he has lost a fare of fish for want of sufficient length of cable to ride at anchor, and that he must have one by the middle of august or he shall lose one or two fares more at grand manan." [letter of james simonds of nd june, ] "we have put lovitt in skipper of the schooner polly and have given stickney the schooner eunice. we have sent down four fishermen for the whale boats. (mr. marble and three labourers.) * * mr. marble does not chuse to have any connection with the delivery of stores [rum, etc.] to the men at passamaquada, and indeed we think with you that his discipline is too moderate for such a sett of men as fishermen for the most part are." [letter of hazen & jarvis of th april, .] the company, finding the fishing at passamaquoddy declining on account of the multitude of their rivals in that locality, determined to dispose of some of their smaller vessels, and mr. jarvis writes to simonds & white, under date may , : "if you think we would be likely to sell the "peggy & molly" at halifax, please to advise us * * * we look upon it in general to be the better way to, sell all vessels when they come to be old and crazy, as we find by experience that old vessels are great moths. therefore if you can dispose of the sloop bachelor and schooner polly, we think you had better do it, provided you can obtain their worth, and we could build such vessels as you shall think will be most advantageous." hazen and jarvis sold one half of the eunice for £ to a frenchman named barrere, who sailed with her to the west indies, where he was detained until the outbreak of the revolution in america, and this was the last of her so far as the company was concerned. of all the company's vessels none seems to have done more excellent service than the little schooner polly. for twelve years she bore an almost charmed life, and in that time was employed in a great variety of ways. at one time a fishing at annapolis or passamaquoddy, at another trading with the indians up the river st. john, at another transporting settlers and their effects from massachusetts to maugerville, at another on a voyage to the west indies. hazen & jarvis for the accommodation of their trade had hired the long wharf at newburyport and the stores on it at an annual rental of £ . in the month of march, , leonard jarvis writes of the occurrence of a tremendous gale which was as severe as was ever known and which did great damage to the wharves and shipping. he adds: "we had the schooner polly drove on one of the wharfs from whence we had to launch her." while returning from the west indies in july, , the polly was taken by an american privateer sailed by one o'brien and sent to newburyport. she was claimed by william hazen and after some little delay restored to her owners and brought to st. john where she discharged her cargo. not long after she was again captured and carried to falmouth, where her super-cargo peter smith again succeeded in obtaining her release. the first vessel built and launched at st. john was the little schooner "betsy," the construction of which was undertaken by simonds & white at portland point in . little did her designers and builders imagine that they were the pioneers of an industry that would one day place st. john in the fourth place among the cities of the british empire as a shipowning port and lead her to claim the proud title of "the liverpool of america." and we may note in passing, that at the time of the turning of the first sod of the intercolonial railway in , employes from seventeen shipyards-- , men in all--marched in the procession and shipbuilding had not then attained its greatest development. it was an important industry indeed in its day. the materials used in building, the betsy were cut almost upon the spot, and the rigging was sent from newburyport by william hazen, while about half the iron was taken from one of the company's old vessels. one michael hodge agreed to build the schooner for - shillings per ton. adonijah colby was his assistant. the schooner was launched in the autumn of the year and named the betsy in honor of miss elizabeth peabody, who about this time was married to james white. the little vessel sailed for newburyport with her first cargo on the d of february following, jonathan leavitt going in her as master. she was sold the next year for £ , and mr. simonds expressed his satisfaction at the price as better than he had expected. this first venture in the line of shipbuilding was followed in due course by others. jonathan leavitt and samuel peabody in built a schooner which they called the "menaguash," in honor of the old indian name of st. john, and the following year william hazen made an agreement with james woodman and zebedee ring to build a vessel at st. john, woodman's wages to be art the rate of shillings a day, and the payment in part to be one hundred acres of land at two shillings an acre. the land referred to was situated in the old township of conway opposite the indian house--probably at pleasant point. with a view to pursuing the business of shipbuilding william hazen at the time he settled at portland point brought with him one john jones, a master ship-builder. the outbreak of the revolutionary war put a stop to every kind of business, but it is said that mr. jones' employers paid his wages for some time in order to retain his services under the expectation that the war would soon be over and they would be able again to build ships. mr. jones improved the waiting time by taking to himself a wife, mercy hilderick, who had come to st. john on a visit to her sister, the wife of samuel peabody. there being no clergyman at hand the ceremony was performed by gervas say, a justice of the peace for the county of sunbury, who then lived on the west side of the harbor in the township of conway. chapter xix. the old county of sunbury and its townships. a great impetus was given to the settlement of the wilderness parts of nova scotia by the proclamations issued by governor lawrence in and offering free grants of lands to those who would become settlers. in consequence of these proclamations attention was directed to the st. john river. the fertile lands along its borders greatly pleased the men of massachusetts who explored it, and led to their founding the township of maugerville, while, almost simultaneously, messrs. simonds and white established their little colony at portland point. the royal proclamation, issued at the court of st. james in october, , offering grants of lands to officers, non-commissioned officers and soldiers that had served in the late french war, in token of his majesty's appreciation of their conduct and bravery, had the effect of creating a species of land-hunger which ere long led to a general scramble for the possession of all lands that were of value and were not already appropriated. however, up to the year , only three land grants on the st. john river were recorded at halifax. then came the deluge! in the course of the month of october some twenty grants were issued, comprising nearly , acres of the best land on the river st. john, and immense tracts were granted in other parts of nova scotia. charles morris, the surveyor general at this time, explains that the vast number of applicants for land and their importunity were due to the fact that the obnoxious "stamp act" was about coming into operation and those desirous of securing lands were pressing hard for their grants in order to avoid the stamp duties. this land boom, if we may so term it, had the effect at first of stimulating the settlement of the country, but it is, to say the least, very doubtful whether subsequent growth and development were not retarded by the rashness of governor wilmot and his council in giving away the unsettled lands from the power of the crown and the people in so prodigal a fashion. the land grants of this period were usually made under the following conditions: first--the payment of a yearly quit rent of one shilling sterling to be made on michaelmas day for every fifty acres, the quit rent, to commence at the expiration of ten years from the date of the grant. second.--the grantee to plant, cultivate and improve, or inclose, one-third part within ten years, one-third part within twenty years and the remaining third part within thirty years from the date of the grant, or otherwise to forfeit such lands as shall not be actually under improvement and cultivation. third.--to plant within ten years one rood of every thousand acres with hemp, and to keep up the same or a like quantity during the successive years. fourth.--for the more effectual settling of the lands within the province the grantees shall settle on every five hundred acres one family at least with proper stock and materials for improvement of the said lands within two years of date of grant.[ ] [ ] the last of the conditions above quoted was a somewhat variable one, and is sometimes found in this form, "the grantees shall settle one-fourth part within one year, in the proportion of one family of protestants (to consist at least of four persons) to every thousand acres, one-fourth part within two years, another fourth part within three years, and the remaining fourth part within four years, otherwise the lands remaining unsettled to revert to the crown." the arrival of so considerable a number of english speaking inhabitants as came to the river st. john in the course of a few years after lawrence had published his proclamations, rendered it necessary that measures should be adopted for their government. when nova scotia was divided into counties, in , what is now new brunswick seems to have been an unorganized part of the county of cumberland. for a year or two the settlers on the river st. john were obliged to look to halifax for the regulation of their civil affairs, but this proved so inconvenient that the governor and council agreed to the establishment of a new county. the county was called sunbury in honor of the english secretary of state, the third earl of halifax[ ] who was also viscount sunbury. [ ] it was after the same english secretary of state that the city of halifax was named in . the first intimation we have of the formation of the new county is contained in a letter of james simonds to william, hazen, dated at halifax, march , , in which the former writes: "i am just arrived here on the business of the inhabitants of st. johns. * * i have seen captain glasier, who informs me that he is getting a grant of a large tract of land at st. johns for a number of officers and that your brother is one of them. st. johns is made a county [sunbury] and i hope will soon make a formidable appearance." the decision of the government in this instance seems to have been consequent upon the visit of mr. simonds, who doubtless was supported in his advocacy of the new measure by capt. beamsley glasier. the latter was elected one of the first two representatives of the county in the nova scotia legislature, with capt. thos. falconer as his colleague. the announcement contained in mr. simonds letter anticipated the action of the governor and council, for it was not until the th april, six weeks later, that the matter was carried into effect by the adoption of the following resolution, viz: "that st. john's river should be erected into a county by the name of sunbury, and likewise that capt. richard smith should be appointed a justice of the peace for the county of halifax." the terms of this grotesque resolution are suggestive of the idea that in the estimation of his excellency and the council of nova scotia the appointment of a halifax j. p. was about as important a matter as the organization of the county of sunbury, although the latter was as large as the entire peninsula of nova scotia. the county of sunbury did not, as has been commonly supposed, include the whole of the present province of new brunswick. its eastern boundary was a line starting from a point "twenty miles above point mispeck, up the bay of fundy, being the eastern point of head land of the harbor at the mouth of the river saint john, thence to run north by the needle till it meets the canada southern boundary." captain beamsley perkins glasier was a very important and influential person at this time in the affairs of the new county. he was an officer in the th or royal american regiment, and subsequently rose to the rank of lieut.-colonel. on the th december, , capt. glasier on behalf of himself, capt. thomas falconer and others, presented a memorial to the governor and council at halifax for a tract of land to include both sides of the river st. john and all the islands from the lower end of musquash island to the township of maugerville, and if there was not in the tract any river proper for erecting mills then "as settlements can't be carried on without, the memorialists pray for any river that may be found fit for the purpose by their committee, with a tract of , acres of timber land as near the mills to be erected as possible." application was made at the same time for a point or neck of land three-quarters of a mile from fort frederick with acres adjoining to it "for the making and curing fish." it was ordered by the governor and council that the lands on the river should be reserved for the applicants, but that the point and sixty acres adjoining, situate near fort frederick, should be a matter for further consideration. it is not improbable the point referred to was the peninsula on the east side of st. john harbor, on which the principal part of the city stands today. had it been granted to the applicants at this time it is hard to say what might have been the effect on the future, but very likely st. john, as the "city of the loyalists," would have had no existence. capt. beamsley glasier and capt. thomas falconer were the active agents of an association or society, composed of more than sixty individuals, who designed to secure and settle half a million acres of land on the river st. john. the association included governor thomas hutchinson of massachusetts, general frederick haldimand (afterwards governor of quebec), sir william johnson of new york, capt. isaac caton, capt. william spry, capt. moses hazen, william hazen, james simonds, rev. john ogilvie, rev. philip hughes, rev. curryl smith, richard shorne, daniel claus, philip john livingston, samuel holland and charles morris. the membership of the association represented a very wide area for among its members were residents of quebec, halifax, boston, new york and the kingdom of ireland. a little later the association was termed the canada company probably because general haldimand and some of its most influential members lived in quebec. the company obtained in october, , a grant of five townships on the river st. john known as the townships of conway, gage, burton, sunbury and new-town, of which all but the last were on the west side of the river. the first three were named in honor of gen. henry s. conway, secretary of state; gen. thomas gage, who was one of the grantees; and brig. gen. ralph burton, who was stationed in canada at the time. the location and extent of the townships may be generally stated as follows: . conway, , acres, included in its bounds the parish of lancaster and a part of westfield extending from the mouth of the river up as far as brandy point. . gage or gage-town, , acres, extended from otnabog to swan creek and included the present parish of gagetown. . burton, , acres, extended from swan creek to the river oromocto, including the present parish of burton and part of the adjoining parish of blissville. . sunbury, , acres, began at old mill creek, a little below fredericton, and extended up the river as far as long's creek, including the city of fredericton, the parish of new maryland and the parish of kingsclear. a part of this grant ( , acres) was added a little later to the township of new town on the opposite side of the river. . new town extended about eight miles up the river from the township of maugerville on the east side opposite fredericton and at first contained , acres, afterwards increased to , . it is an interesting circumstance that the site upon which alexander gibson's mills at marysville stand today, was selected by beamsley glasier and his associates in as the most desirable mill site along the st. john river. we even know the names of the pioneers of milling in that locality. in the month of july, , the sloop, "peggy and molly" sailed from newburyport for st. john and on the way she called at portsmouth and took on board capt. beamsley glasier and five mill-wrights, jonathan young, hezekiah young, joseph pike, tristram quimby and john sanborn each of whom paid simonds & white shillings passage money. soon after their arrival they framed and erected the first saw mill on the nashwaak, probably the first built by english hands in the province. in september, same year, the "peggy and molly" brought a large consignment from new england for capt. glasier, including all the mill gear, a quantity of seed corn, barley and garden seeds, some live stock and fowls, household utensils and provisions. capt. glasier says in a letter to wm. hazen written in august, , "young and all the carpenters intend to stay and settle here and he begs you'll be so good as to acquaint his wife and family of it." no permanent settlement, however, seems to have been made at the nashwaak at this time other than anderson's trading post at the mouth of that stream. shortly after obtaining the grants of their townships the canada company appointed nathaniel rogers of boston their treasurer, and colonel beamsley glasier their agent, and levied a tax of one hundred dollars on each member of the company to defray the expenses of management. the conditions of the grants required the grantees to settle one-fourth part of their lands in one year in the proportion of four protestant[ ] persons for every , acres, one-fourth part in the same proportion in two years, one-fourth in three years and the remainder in four years, all lands remaining unsettled to revert to the crown. [ ] this word was designed to exclude the acadians as settlers. an immediate attempt was made by col. glasier, capt. falconer and the more energetic of their associates to procure settlers and improve the lands, but the task was a gigantic one and settlers of a desirable class by no means easy to obtain. the difficulties the company had to encounter will appear in the references that will presently be made to some very interesting letters and documents that have been preserved respecting the settlement of the townships. as early as the th of january, , the plans of the canada company had so far developed that captain falconer sent one richard barlow as storekeeper to the river st. john, where the company's headquarters was about to be established under the supervision of colonel glasier. barlow was promised a lease of acres at a nominal rent, and at once removed with his family to the scene of operations. there were frequent business transactions in the course of the next six years between simonds & white and the agents of the canada company, who figure in their accounts as "beamsley glasier & co.". in the years and , for example, mr. rogers, the treasurer of the canada company, paid hazen & jarvis £ for certain goods supplied by simonds & white at the river st. john. the value of the lands on the river st. john had not escaped the notice of the keen-eyed pioneers at portland point, and in the first business letter extant james simonds writes to wm. hazen, "the lands are very valuable if they may be had." again on the th december, , he writes, "i have been trying and have a great prospect of getting one or two rights [or shares] for each of us concerned in our company, and to have my choice in the townships of this river, the land and title as good as any in america." hazen & jarvis manifested much interest in the matter and soon afterwards obtained a footing among the proprietors and promoters of the scheme. the arrival of colonel glasier with his millwrights and carpenters in the fall of has been already mentioned. the progress made in settling the townships during the first two years was, however, slow and the mills on the nashwaak were some time in being completed. simonds & white on the th june, , wrote to their partners in newburyport, "when col. glasier left this place he was in such a hurry, the vessel being bound directly to sea, that we could not make a complete settlement, not having the people's accounts up the river that had worked on the mills, logging, etc. we have inclosed his order for what could be settled. the lots in gage town are drawn, moses and william hazen nos. , , mr. simonds no. , none of them either the best or the worst in the township. * * if young cattle are cheap at your place we recommend sending some every opportunity; the growth of them is profitable, and the king's instructions to the government are that three cattle be kept on every fifty acres of land granted." the manner of laying out and drawing lots in the townships, as first agreed on, did not work very well and led to a vigorous remonstrance on the part of capt. william spry, which is dated at new york, april th, . the "remonstrance" appears to have been framed after consultation with others of the committee appointed by the proprietors to carry on the settlement of the townships, and its contents were approved at a meeting held the next day. the "remonstrance" was addressed to rev.'d dr. oglevie and william johnstone, esq., and to such other proprietors, or their attornies, as were then in new york. the document is of sufficient historic value to be quoted in full:-- the remonstrance of capt. william spry, one of the said proprietors, sets forth,-- "that the manner in which the townships of gage and sunbury have been divided among the proprietors, puts it out of their power to settle their respective shares, the lots being only sixty-five rods in breadth, and from four to six miles in depth; that therefore no family at the first settling of those lands will go so far back into the woods as to be deprived of the advantages of the river, and that there is not breadth enough in the lots but for very few families to be accommodated even supposing the proprietors under the necessity of granting away the most valuable part of their lands, which would probably be the case, as the time allowed to complete the settlement is nearly expired. "that even granting those long narrow slips of land could be settled, their being situated in so many places (in the several townships) and so different from each other, makes it absolutely impossible for a proprietor to look after them with that care and attention which the establishing of new settlements must require. "that the inclosing those several lots must of course be attended with great expense and the fixing their boundaries be very liable to create disputes. "capt. spry therefore proposes the following plan to the society, viz.:-- " st. that every proprietor shall have his proportion of all the lands in the several townships (except conway, as will be hereafter explained) in one township only, that townships to be fixed by ballot. " nd. that when the proprietors have drawn the township their lot is to be in, they draw again for their particular lot in that township. " rd. that the lots in each township be divided so as to be as nearly of equal value with one another as possible, the expense of which to be defrayed by the society in general, in case the division cannot be settled by the survey already taken. " th. that all the islands be divided into sixty-eight lots and drawn for, except perkin's island which is to remain in common among all the proprietors.[ ] [ ] it was perhaps at the suggestion of william hazen or james simonds that in the grant of the township of burton, of which they were grantees, there was included the "island in passamaquody bay called perkins island," now known as indian island, where the fishing station of simonds & white had been for several years established. " th. that the saw mill also remain in common among all the proprietors for twenty years from the date of the grant, and then to devolve to the proprietors of the township it is in. " th. that as the townships of gage and sunbury have been surveyed and the places for the town plots fixed by charles morris, esq., surveyor of nova scotia, that as ten families were sent to the river last fall and could get no farther than fort frederick, by reason of contrary winds, and therefore are not as yet fixed to any particular township, and as several other families have been procured to be sent this spring by different proprietors, who without an immediate drawing for the respective townships cannot know to what township to send their settlers, it is proposed that there should be a drawing for these townships without loss of time, and also for the lots in the townships of gage and sunbury, in the presence of two magistrates of this city, which said lots capt. spry will undertake to make as equal a division of as the nature of the thing will allow. "the division of the townships among the proprietors is proposed to be as follows, viz:-- "the townships of gage, burton and sunbury, containing , acres each, to be divided among twenty proprietors to each township, which will be , acres to each proprietor. "the township of conway, containing , acres, being conveniently situated for the fishery, to be divided among all the proprietors in equal lots and drawn for, which will be about acres to each. "the tract northwest of maugerville of , acres (granted separately) and that of , acres adjoining, granted with the township of sunbury, to be made one township of , acres and to be called new-town, and divided among eight proprietors, which will be , acres to each proprietor, the same as in the other townships. "by this method of dividing the townships all the lots will have a sufficient breadth upon the river, and the worst lot there can possibly be among them, will be of more value to any one proprietor than the five best lots of the several townships laid out as they are at present." signed w. spry. a meeting was immediately held at the house of george burns, innholder, in new york, and it was unanimously decided by the proprietors of the townships and their agents, to annul the former division of lands and adopt the proposals of capt. spry. in accordance with this decision the proprietors or their representatives, held a meeting on wednesday the th of april, , and in the presence of dirck brinckerhoff and elias desbrosses, justices of the peace and aldermen of the city and county of new york, made a drawing of the townships in the manner proposed, the result of which appears below. [illustration: map of the river st john in the province of nova scotia. exhibiting the grants to officers &c. in with other patents. from the survey of mr chas morris and other surveyors.] township of gage. lot. no. . john lewis gage. . daniel disney. . john fenton, esq. . beamsley glasier, esq. . dr. thomas blair. . james finlay. . jacob jordan. . george johnstone. . thomas clapp. . oliver delancey, jr., esq. . col. frederick haldimand. . william keough. . rev. phillip hughes. . charles morris, jr., esq. . william johnstone, esq. . synge tottenham. . william spry, esq. . george gillman. . frederick haldimand, jr. . guy johnstone. township of sunbury. lot. no. . alexander john scott. . dr. robert bell. . thomas hutchinson, esq. . john collins, esq. . john irving, jr., esq. . john desbruyeres. esq. . francis greenfield. . daniel carleton. . thomas smelt, esq. . richard shorne. . george fead. . edward bulkely, esq. . john leake burrage. . oliver shorne. . isaac caton. . john norberg. . hugh parker. . james allen. . james simonds. . nathaniel rogers, esq. township of burton. "the town plot not being fixed this township could not as yet be divided into lots, but is to be as soon as possible: the proprietors who drew the township were: john porteus, thomas falconer, sen'r, esq., john york, esq., daniel robertson, joseph peach, esq., william parker, charles pettit, ralph christie, esq., daniel claus, esq., william evins, esq., john campbell, esq., joseph howard, john cox, thomas falconer, jun'r, john treby, esq., james porteus, richard burton, john livingston, esq., samuel hollandt, esq., benjamin price, esq. township of new town, or the forty thousand acre tract. "this township is under the same circumstances with that of burton; the proprietors who drew the township were: thomas moncrief, esq., rev. john ogelvie, d. d., moses hazen, james jameson, william hazen, richard williams, charles tassel, esq., and james hughes." it was agreed that the various islands in the river st. john belonging to the townships should be surveyed as soon as possible and divided into lots. it was also agreed that the saw mill, erected or in course of erection in the township of new town should remain the common property of all the members of the society for the space of twenty years from the date of the grant, expenses attending the building or repairing of the mill to be borne by all the proprietors of the several townships, and after the expiration of twenty years to become the property of the grantees of new town. it will be noticed that in the division of the townships the rights, or shares, of moses and william hazen were drawn in new town and that of james simonds in sunbury. mr. simonds evidently was quite satisfied for he wrote to hazen & jarvis, june , . "the township of sunbury is the best in the patent and new town is the next to it according to the quantity of land, it will have a good salmon-fishery in the river which the mills are to be built on, which runs through the centre of the tract. the mills are to be the property of the eight proprietors of the township after seventeen years from this time, and all the timber also the moment the partition deed is passed." chapter xx. the st. john's river society. since the preceding chapters were printed the author chanced to discover some interesting manuscripts in the collections of the massachusetts historical society which throw a good deal of light upon the history of the old townships on the river st. john. it is to be regretted that this discovery was not made a little sooner, but it is not too late to give the reader the benefit of it in a supplementary way. the association that undertook the settlement of the townships of conway, gage, burton, sunbury and new-town has been referred to in these pages as "the canada company," but its proper name was "the st. john's river society." the original promoters of the gigantic land speculation--for such we must call it--set on foot at montreal in , were chiefly army officers serving in canada, hence the name, "the canada company." when, however, it was determined to enlarge the association by the addition of the names of gentlemen in boston, new york, philadelphia, and halifax, and when the valley of the river st. john was selected as the place where the most desirable lands were to be had the canada company took a new name and was known as "the st. john's river society." the president of the society was captain thomas falconer, who was at this time at montreal with his regiment. the most active promoter of the society's plans for several years, however, was beamsley p. glasier. this gentleman has already been frequently spoken of in connection with events on the st. john. he was a captain in the royal american regiment and afterwards attained the rank of lieutenant-colonel. he had previously served in the fifth massachusetts regiment, in which he was commissioned ensign early in february, . the regiment rendered gallant service under sir william pepperrell at the taking of louisburg, and we have abundant evidence of glasier's reputation as a brave determined leader in the following document, the original of which is to be found in the archives of the massachusetts historical society: "agreement. we whose names are underwritten have enlisted ourselves voluntarily to go on ye attack of the island battery at the mouth of the harbor of louisburgh provided beamsley glaizer is our capt. on said attack and then wee shall be ready att half am hours warning[ ]" [signed by forty individuals.] [ ] the date of this document is probably may, . the island battery was one of the most formidable defences in louisburg. captain glasier served subsequently under sir wm. johnson and gen'l john winslow. the idea of securing large grants of land in nova scotia was taken up by officers of the royal americans, the th foot and other regiments at montreal early in the year . among the promoters were capt. thos. falconer, capt. beamsley glasier, capt. john fenton, rev. john ogilvie, d. d., (chaplain of the royal american regt.), major thos. moncrief, capt. daniel claus, capt. samuel holland, brig. gen'l. ralph burton, lieut. wm. keough, lieut. richard shorne and others. captain glasier seems to have obtained am extended leave of absence from his military duties and for three years most of his time was spent in trying to settle the society's townships. he sailed from quebec on the th of august, , and after exploring the southern coast of nova scotia and entering many of the harbors in order to get "the best information of the goodness of land, and conveniency for carrying on the fishery," he at length reached halifax on the th of october. the events subsequent to his arrival we shall let him describe in his own words. "upon my arrival i waited on the governor, and gave him my letters; he rec'd me with great politeness and ordered a meeting of council the next day in order to consult where i should pitch upon a tract of land suitable for such a grand settlement, for it is looked upon as the most respectable of any in the province, and i must say that everybody in authority seem'd to interest themselves in the thing and give me all the advice and assistance in their power. many places was talked of, but none was so universally approved as the river st. johns. it was therefore the opinion of the council, and all that wished well to the establishment, that i should go across the country to pisiquid (windsor), and take passage on board a vessell that was going from thence with provisions for the garrison of fort frederick, which i accordingly did, and arrived the th of november. * * "as soon as i arrived i procured a boat and went up the river above the falls as far as where the good land begins to make its appearance; but an uncommon spell of cold weather had set in and frozen over the small rivers leading into the main river. * * "besides what i saw, which answered exactly with the account i had of it before, i had the best information from the indians and inhabitants settled miles up the river and the engineer of the fort, who had just been up to take a plan of the river, so that i was not at a loss one moment to fix on that spot for the settlement." capt. glasier spent about four days in examining the river. it will be noticed he speaks of "an uncommon spell of cold weather;" nevertheless the river was open for a good distance. this goes to show that the winter season did not begin any earlier years ago than it does today. judging by the account of his journey from fort frederick to halifax capt. glasier was a good traveller. he says, "we breakfasted at the fort, dined at annapolis and walked from thence to halifax days miles in company with a brother of lord byron, who made the tour with me to see the country." beamsley glasier would have made a good immigration agent, for he certainly describes the country in glowing colors, yet his description of the valley of the st. john is in the main quite accurate and it is exceedingly interesting to have a glimpse of that region in its pristine state. "the entrance of st. john's river," he writes, "forms like a bay between two points[ ] about leagues apart from thence it grows narrower gradually up to the falls, which is yards broad. the falls, which has been such a bugbare, is rather a narrow place in the river than falls, for at half tide it is as smooth as any other place in the river, the tide then just beginning to make and grows gradually stronger until high water, from that till two hours ebb a vessell of tons may go up or down. i know of very few harbours in america that has not a barr or some other impediment at the entrance so as to wait for the tide longer than at st. johns; here if you are obliged to wait you are in a good harbour out of all danger of bad weather. "on each side the falls the rocks are high and so continue about four leagues, all lime stone; then begins the finest prospect in the world, the land becomes flat, not a stone or pebble for miles * * the banks something higher than it is a little way in; it runs level from six to twelve miles back and some places farther, such land as i cannot describe. the new england people [in maugerville] have never plowed but harrowed in their grain, such grain of all kinds, such hemp, flax, &c, as was never seen." [ ] mispeck point on the east and negro head on the west. capt. glasier's description of the interval lands in their virgin state, untouched by the white man's axe, is particularly interesting. it serves to explain why these lands were not over-run by forest fires and were considered so desirable by the early settlers. "the trees," he says, "are all extremely large and in general very tall and chiefly hard wood;[ ] no spruce, pine, firr, &c. neither is there underwood of brush, you may drive a cart and oxen thro' the trees. in short it looks like a park as far as ever your eye can carry you. the pine trees fit for large masts are farther back and bordering on the small rivers as i am told by the indians. these fellows are the most intelligent people i ever saw; near live about miles up the river, and seem to be well pleased at our coming here, i saw all their chiefs at the fort. the land on the n. e. side the river has been overflowed sometimes, but it goes off immediately and leaves such a manure as you may imagine--tho' it has not for several years past; the other side is higher, the lands not so good in general. when i said not so good i would not be understood to mean that they are not good, for even those are as good as any i ever saw in america, with the same kind and quality of wood, but does not run back so far. [ ] a few giant elms of the primeval forest are yet to be found on the bank of the st. john. the author not long since examined the stump of a large elm that grew a few miles below the town of woodstock. it was four feet in diameter and the number of concentric rings , so that it must have been a sapling in the days of queen elizabeth. "i suppose we shall have the proprietor's town on the west side, tho' the new england people are all settled on the other side. the whole country abounds with game; there is likewise plenty of moose weighing from to lbs. each, fatt and finer than beef, which you may kill every day. wild fowl of all kinds, cocks, snipes, and partridges are so plenty that the gentlemen who was with me swore that it was no sport, as we could shoot or at a shot. an indian made me a present of a pair of horns of a small moose as he called them, for he assured me that some was twice as heavey. these measured feet and inches and weighed - / lb., judge you the biggness of the owner. "upon the interval land you have a long kind of grass[ ] which the cattle in that country fatten themselves upon. i never in my life saw fatter beef than one i saw killed there, & the new england people vowed that the heiffers of the same breed that had a calf in boston at years old came in at years at st. johns, so much they improved in growth and wantonness as they called it. [ ] this grass still grows naturally on the st. john river intervals, and is known to the farmers as "blue-joint." "their hoggs and sheep they keep on the islands, which are overflowed generally when the river brakes up which is commonly about the middle of april. this overflowing leaves these islands so rich that the hoggs grow fatt by eating ground nuts without any other food in summer (in our grant we have some of these islands) nor do they put up their horses in the winter, except those that work, tho' you may cut any quantity of grass. can i say more of the soil, trees, situation, &c.? be assured it is all true." "the fish is the next thing. this river abounds with all sorts of small fry, trout, salmon, bass, whitefish & sturgeon. the bass is ketcht in wiers just under the point below the fort, so that good voyages may be made in that branch; all the expence is in making the wiers, and as to sturgeon they are more remarkably plenty than any place upon the continent, and if there was persons that understood pickling them it would be a very profitable undertaking and fetches ready money in london." the glasier letters (which have just been printed in the collections of the n. b. hist. society) show that before beamsley glasier left montreal, as the accredited agent of the st. john's river society, there had been a good deal of discussion about the location of the townships it was desired to procure and settle. it was ultimately decided that this matter should be left to the discretion of captain glasier after he had made a personal examination of certain localities and obtained reliable information respecting the ungranted lands in nova scotia. glasier wrote from halifax on the th december, , to captain thos. falconer and the society's committee at montreal, informing them of his selection of the valley of the river st. john as by all odds the most desirable situation. he says: "when i compare this place to any other we ever thought of i am surprised it had not been fixed on before i came away. the island of st. johns (or prince edward island) is not good land, besides being so far to the northward it is too exposed if a war should happen, as is all up the gut of canso, bay challeurs, etc. besides the whole of that part of the country, as well as all the coast to the head cape sable and up the bay of fundy, is bound with fog almost three months in the year. in this river you have none above the falls, nor have you musquitos here in any sort of comparison to any other part of this country. besides you are so near the settled parts of new england that you may sail with a good wind to boston in hours, or if you have a mind to coast along shore you may harbour every or leagues all the way to boston and that all winter. i think we are very happy not to settle on the lake where we proposed, for if we had anything to send to market it would take more time and be a greater risk to get it out of the river st. lawrence than to go from here to europe." on the st march following capt. glasier addressed a letter to john fenton of boston informing the members of the society in that quarter of the success of his subsequent proceedings. he apologizes for the tardiness of his communication by saying, "i have put off writing, as the world puts off repentence till the last moment." glasier is very enthusiastic as to the outlook. "the interval lands on the st. john," he says, "are wonderful, not a stone and black mold feet deep, no underwood, large tall trees all hardwood; you may drive a coach through the trees, we can cut what grass we please and we may improve the land immediately; in short i can't describe it to you. * * * * i hope we shall be able to begin something this summer, there is the d--l and all of people applying for lands in this province. there is now settled families just above us, all yankys[ ]; they are not very good farmers you know but they raised fine grain last year." [ ] the reference is to the settlement made at maugerville two or three years before, which at this time seems to have been called the township of peabody, in honor of captain francis peabody. in the choice of the st. john river valley as the best situation for the townships that were to be laid out and settled, beamsley glasier seems to have been guided very largely by the advice of charles morris, the surveyor general of nova scotia, and his son charles morris, junior. the younger morris had a personal interest in the society and capt. glasier writes of him: "mr. morris's son is one of our proprietors and is to go with me in april to survey the whole tract i have asked for. he is deputy to his father and very clever, as you'll have occasion to know hereafter. we propose setting out from halifax about the beginning of april and take a survey of port o'bear[ ] on our way to st. johns. i imagine the whole will take us a great deal of time as we shall go up all the small rivers. i have engaged a little schooner for the purpose. as places for our mills and good timber, oak as well as pine, is a great object, and as mr. morris is a conesieur in the goodness of lands, if we don't fix upon convenient spots to answer all our purposes it will be our faults." [ ] probably port le bear (or hebert) near shelburne on the southern coast of nova scotia. the task of surveying and exploring proved of greater magnitude than glasier had anticipated, and at the end of the summer the surveyor general of nova scotia and his son had only been able to make a general sketch of the river and townships, not an accurate survey, and glasier expressed the opinion that it would be a work of two years at least before the river would be thoroughly known. just how much time was spent in the work of exploration and survey we do not know, but the younger morris spent three months in the summer of surveying the townships of gage and sunbury, and in addition to this he says: "the surveyor general and myself expended more than a hundred pounds sterling of our own money in surveying the river last year." captain glasier was very desirous of obtaining the best lands on the river and he states frankly, in one of his letters, "what we want is the good lands only, or as small a quantity of the bad as is possible." he was not ready to make definite application for lands, therefore, until he had ascertained the whereabouts of all lakes, ponds, sunken and bad lands, etc., in order to avoid paying quit rents to the crown for that which was not improvable. meanwhile trouble was brewing at halifax, and it was only by the good offices of governor wilmot, charles morris, sr., and other members of the council that the st. john river society was saved from disaster. we get an idea of the threatened danger in a letter of hon. michael francklin to captain glasier of july , , in which great concern is expressed that glasier had not yet made his choice of the lands he desired. "you cannot conceive how the government is embarrassed," writes francklin, "by the daily applications that are made. we have no less than three agents from pennsylvania who are put off on your account. * * * my dear sir be thoroughly persuaded that no set of people will have the preference to your gentlemen in anything that can be done for them, but pray do reflect and consider the government here and our situation, how disagreeable it is to lock up a whole river, sufficient for fifty townships, and people applying every day that we are obliged to put off until you are served. consider what a risque the government runs of losing a number of valuable settlers. i beg of you, on my own account and as one who has the welfare and prosperity of the province at heart, that you will by some means or other make your choice as soon as possible and transmit it to the governor." captain glasier comments on this in a letter to nathaniel rogers of boston. "some of the council are wanting to establish those companies belonging to philadelphia who are waiting at halifax, as you'll see by the inclosed letter from one of them to me. i see through the whole, the governor[ ] keeps them off till i return." [ ] captain glasier seems to have been on excellent terms with gov'r wilmot. on st march, , he wrote to capt. fenton of boston, "i have received great civility from all sorts of people here in halifax. i have made your compliments to the gov'r and he has desired his to you; poor d----l has had the gout all winter, which seems to be the general distemper in this place amongst people of rank." by the advice of governor wilmot the society filled up the number of their proprietors to sixty and at once began to make preparations for the settlement of the lands promised, and which were granted in the month of october, . glasier advised the establishment of a magazine of stores at fort frederick, also the sending of horses, cattle, sheep, and swine, with any settlers they could procure, as soon as possible. he adds, "as young strong fellows might be hired in canada for livres a year, of them might be hired and sent here next spring; the canada horses are much the best for this country * * * the men you hire will be able to hew or cut timber for your houses, clear the land where you have the town, provide a covering for the cattle, and cut hay, raise potatoes for your hogs--there is a spanish potatoe in this country that yields so much that a boy of years old will raise as many as will keep hogs, they are made use of for that purpose throughout all new england. * * the iron for saw mills i think should be bought in canada as that iron is so good. any french that have taken the oath of allegiance may become your settlers." an assessment of £ was now ordered to be made on each member of the society to meet necessary expenses. the rev. dr. ogilvie of new york was chosen as treasurer. richard barlow, late a sergeant in the th regiment, was appointed store keeper at st. john. capt. falconer, who sent him from montreal, described him as "a steady man used to business of that nature, who proposes to be a settler, has a family and some money to enable him to begin tolerably well." barlow was to receive shillings n. y. currency pr. week and "oneration of provisions," also acres of land and a town lot. he was directed to proceed from montreal to boston and there take upon him the care of the tools, utensils, materials and stores of all kinds and embark with them for the river st. johns in nova scotia. a large assortment of materials, stores, tools and other articles were purchased by nathaniel rogers in boston, including mill geer, carpenter's tools, farming implements, also three yoke of oxen and tackling necessary for drawing logs, etc. these were shipped to st. john in the schooner "lucy," james dickey, master, "consigned to richard barlow storekeeper at st. john's and passenger on board for the use of the st. john's society." capt. glasier's expectation was that a majority of the settlers of the township might be expected from new england. he says, "there is a number of families from n. england come this summer ( ) on a presumption that there was sufficient land to be had, as one peabody and his associates had settled themselves the same way about four years ago and had a great struggle to get their grant this year after all their improvements. these people want to become our settlers, but it is not possible for me to settle them for i can't tell them, 'fix your selves on such a spott and it shall be yours;' no, the lands must be lay'd out in proper form, lots no. , , , &c., and drawn for. the people are waiting for my answer, as i have told them there will be lands for them when we can come into a proper method. they have all got stock and all materials to carry on farming and will want no help from us." the difficulties experienced by capt. francis peabody and his associates in securing their lands at maugerville have been referred to already--see page --but further light is thrown upon the matter in the appendix to this chapter, in which will be found the memorial of the maugerville people to the lords of trade and plantations, together with a letter addressed to joshua mauger by charles morris and henry newton, who had been sent to the river st. john by the governor of nova scotia to investigate the situation. an important meeting of the members of the st. john's river society and their representatives was held at new york on the d of june, , when it was decided that steps should be taken as soon as possible for dividing the lands belonging to the society; that a surveyor should be employed to lay out the town either at grimross or some other place more convenient or proper for the purpose; that a grist and saw mill should be immediately built on "nishwack creek"; that captain glasier should agree with proper persons to build the mills, lay out the town, survey the lots for division and take possession in due form of all grants (including the island called perkins island, in the bay of passamaquoddy) in,the name of the society. it was further decided that as a sum of money was required for the expenses of surveying and dividing the lands into lots, building the mills, etc., that the second year's subscription money should be paid on or before the th of august. two sites were regarded with favor for the town, grimross and st. ann's point. both places had been originally cleared and settled by the french. glasier states in one of his letters: "at grimross there is timber and lime, which the french had prepared to build a church; there is cleared land three miles in length, an old settlement where our principal town must be built, if we can't have st. anns point, which is the finest spot on the river for our purpose. there are many difficulties to surmount, which you will know hereafter; there is but one good stream on all the river fit to erect mills upon, which i have got for us, and, between ourselves, have been obliged to pop them between two other grants (by the assistance of mr. morris). there is about families in the township of peabody, they have not one mill of any kind, nor can there be; they have been obliged to bring all from new england. these mills must be our first object; we shall be able to furnish our neighbors with lumber as well as ourselves. i have arranged for the timber and all other materials to be prepared and inclose you mr. simonds estimate of the cost. * * * mr. simonds is perfectly acquainted with the business of saw-mills and knows every minivar [manoeuvre] belonging to them. i think we are lucky in having him on the spot to manage so material a part of our establishment. these mills properly managed will pay for themselves at least four times a year, besides we can't carry on our settlement without them." james simonds' estimate of the cost of the mills will be found in the letter which follows. it was probably considerably under the mark for people are usually optimistic in such things:-- "passamaquoddy, august th, . "sir,--agreeable to your desire i have made the nearest calculation i could of the cost of two mills and dam on nashwog river, and am of opinion that two hundred pounds currency will complete them. the first cost is very great, which will be mostly for the dam, yet as the stream is sufficient for an addition of three or four mills on the same dam, it will be cheaper in the end than to build the same number of mills and a dam to each on small brooks that will be almost dry near half the year. "i must advise you sir to have your iron work made of the best iron, as breaches in any part of mills is of fatal consequence to the profit of them. i have sent the dimensions of the cranks, knowing it to be the practice in new england to make them so small as to retard the business of sawing, besides frequently breaking--the breaking of one may be a greater damage than the cost of two. i have described them something large, but think you had better exceed the size than fall short of it. "the best workmen will be the cheapest as the whole depends on the effectual laying the foundation of the dam, etc. i make no doubt but when the mills are completed they will saw at least m boards pr. day. "i am sir, your most obedient servant, "james simonds." it may be noticed, in passing, that mr. simonds writes from passamaquoddy. the headquarters of the trade and fishery there was at indian island, or as it was sometimes called, perkins island. mr. simonds and wm. hazen were members of the st. john's river society and it would appear from capt. glasier's letter to nathaniel rogers of th nov'r., , that the society had ambitious designs with regard to this locality. "our fishery at passamaquoddy," writes glasier, "is an object worth our attention; it is the best in the province. a block-house will be built there next spring and i can get a party from the fort sand some small cannon which will secure the fishermen against any insult from the indians. this spot is more valuable than you can imagine. i was promised by some of the principal fishermen belonging to new hampshire if i got a grant of this island they would came to the number of families with all their crafts, etc., and become our settlers at saint johns, and if we get grand manan[ ] it will give us a chain of harbours all the way to mount desert, which will be all we want." [ ] in another part of his letter glasier says, "capt. falconer, who is on the spot, is desired to petition the lords of trade for this island." capt. falconer intended to have gone to the river st. john to assist in the management of affairs there, but this plan was upset by his being ordered with his regiment to ireland. the avidity manifested by the agent of the st. john's river society in seeking favors at the hands of government would seems to countenance the idea, suggested in the preceding chapter of this history,[ ] that when he memoralized the government of nova scotia for a grant of "the point or neck of land bearing three quarters of a mile from fort frederick, with acres of land adjoining to it, for the making and curing fish," he had in view the valuable peninsula on the east side of the harbor of st. john, on which the principal part of the city now stands; but further investigation shows that this is not the case and that the point of land meant was the neck adjoining the fort, on the carleton side of the harbor.[ ] [ ] see page , ante. [ ] speaking of the fishery in st. john harbor, captain glasier writes, under date december , , "the bass is ketcht in weirs just under the point below the fort," that is on the carleton side of the harbor, and in the next sentence he goes on to identify this point or neck of land with that adjoining fort frederick. "the cod fish," he says, "strikes in here a month sooner than at cape sable shore & goes off a month sooner; you ketch the fish a league within the mouth of the harbour and quite up to the island [navy island] near the point of land i have asked for." we have ample testimony as to beamsley glasier's zeal and energy as director of the affairs of the st. john's river society. charles morris, junior, says of him, "capt. glasier has done everything that was possible for any man to do, and more than any one else in his situation would have done to serve the society," adding that he had not been properly supported, and if he had retired "there would have ended the grand settlement of st. john's river, for as soon as he had left it, in all probability the indians (who have been made to believe our dam will destroy their fishery) would have burnt and destroyed all that has been done this summer at the mills, and before we could build other mills and get things in so good a way again the lands would be forfeited, for there will be a court of escheats held and all the lands that have been granted in this province that are not settled and improved agreeable to the express condition of the grant will absolutely be declared forfeited." "but," he continues, "i can't imagine the society will suffer theirs to be forfeited, for i am well convinced that less than £ sterling from each proprietor will build all the mills, divide all the lands and pay every expense that has attended the settlement from first to last; and each proprietor will then have , acres of good land laid out into lots, mills built and everything ready and convenient to carry on and make a fine settlement of it." glasier rarely complained of the difficulties with which he was confronted, but on one occasion be admits "i am in a very disagreeable situation and am heartily tired of it, and was it not for ingaging in the mills, would curse and quit the whole business. i have not been well treated; to agents for all the philadelphia and other companys have been genteely appointed and every expence paid with honor. what i have done by myself has been ten times more than they all together and the expence not the fifth part in proportion." whilst engaged in his work on the river st. john, glasier was obliged to make occasional trips to boston, taking passage usually in the vessels of hazen, simonds and white. the excitement produced in new england by the operation of the obnoxious stamp act gave him some concern. he writes in november, , "i have some things to settle with the governor & council next time they sit, that prevents my going to boston by this vessel, but i shall go the next time she sails, if you boston people don't burn her, which i should be very sorry should happen as she carrys no stamps. my heart bleeds for my country, what will be the end of all this?" two projects especially claimed glasier's attention in the summer of : the first the founding of a town, the second the building of his saw-mill. "i propose," he says, "to lay out the town at grimross in squares, in addition to public squares; then they are to be numbered and drawn for by some person on the spot in the form of lottery tickets, which i shall have sent to the proprietors so that we may fix as many families as can be had this summer on the town lots. * * i must have young mr. morris from halifax to survey and lay out the town, as nothing can be done at grimross before he arrives." in connection with the erection of the nashwaak mills capt. glasier acknowledges his obligation to hazen & jarvis of newburyport. he says: "they have procured me men to build the mills and stores of all kinds for the workmen." the mill geer came this season, but on the th october glasier writes, "the mills won't be finished this fall, it is such a work it was not possible to get through with it. * * * * my time has been divided between the mills and the surveying. i am condemned to tarry here this winter and can know nothing of what is doing in the world." on the nd february following, he writes mr. nath'l rogers of boston, "we are now employed in getting logs to the mills. i hope we shall get them going early in the summer. they will begin to pay something of the expense before the fall. it's impossible for me to tell you in a letter the expenses of the different branches of business which i am obliged to carry on to complete the whole. it is not only building mills, surveying, etc., but clearing up the land, building houses, making roads, hiring oxen (for we have not half enough of them) and in fine so much i shall never pretend to write it. james simonds, esq., who is the bearer of this, will be able to inform you much better than i can. * * * i am determined to finish what i have undertaken and then quit it. i am not in the best situation in the world, as i believe you'll think when i tell you i am not only shut out from all society and know nothing of what is carrying on in the world, but my stores are all expended, nor is there one thing to be bought here, pray send me last year's magazines and some english newspapers as well as the boston ones. * * * i should be glad if you'd send the oxen, they may be not old nor of the largest kind but good to draw. i pay half a dollar a day for each yoak i hire so that they'll almost pay for themselves in one year in work. those that we have here have worked more than one hundred days since i came, so that if we had been obliged to have hired them at the rate i pay others it would amount to a large sum. twelve is the least that can be employed always at the mills hauling logs, as they will cut , feet a day, i am told, when they are finished. * * * * i told you i would not write you a long letter, as there is nothing i hate so much; it's the d----l to have ten thousand things to say." beamsley glasier's connection with the st. john river was now drawing to a close. in the summer of he went to new york where we find him engaged, in company with the rev. dr. ogilvie, in collecting the second annual subscription from the members of the society. the military gentlemen proved very dilatory in paying their subscriptions. whether capt. glazier became disheartened at the outlook, or whether he received peremptory orders to rejoin the royal american regiment is uncertain. but about the end of august, , james porteous, representing the montreal committee, wrote to nathaniel rogers: "we are now informed capt. glazier is at new york on his way to join his regiment, it therefore becomes necessary to appoint another person to transact the society's business, for which purpose we have appointed mr. james simonds, one of the proprietors, agent with whom you will please correspond on any occurrence regarding the settlement." messrs. hazen & jarvis, as well as their partners at st. john, manifested great interest in the attempts of the society to settle their townships. many details are mentioned in their letters, such as those contained in the following to james simonds. these details may appear of little importance, yet everything that throws light upon the methods employed in peopling a new country ought to have an interest for after generations. in explanation of the subject matter of the letter below it should be mentioned that philip john livingston and others of the more energetic proprietors of the townships were sending settlers, from new york, and other places to the river st. john. newburyport, octo. th, . "we wrote you last sunday by a sloop that came in here from new york for some cattle, sheep and hogs. she took on board the cows; the hogs and sheep go by this vessel. there is ten families [of settlers], each of which was to have cow, sow, and sheep, but as they thought it necessary to have one of the hogs a boar, and it was impossible to procure all the creatures of an equal goodness, we must beg you will assist them (if they need it) in the division of them. there was put on board this sloop bushels of ears of corn, of which is on the company's account and for these families' hogs, so that what may be more than bushels upon their arrival with you, please to deliver with the hogs. the freight of these hogs and sheep we shall charge here. mr. white is arrived with our wm. hazen and writes you by this vessel. we suppose he will tell you that we think it will not be best to build a vessel with you this winter. we have sent all we could procure of your memo. by this, vessel--the remainder will come by mr. white who will sail the last of next week. you will observe there are seven hogsheads of rye and indian corn wanting of the number in the invoices. these we took out to get ground and you shall have them when mr. white goes. please to get as much lime as possible on board capt. newman, as we have agreed with him to land it in portsmouth, you will therefore please to consign him to mess. john & temple knight in that place. there are sheep on board the sloop which cost upon an average about s. d. a head. now as the ten families who came from now york were to have ewe sheep (and as they chose a ram or two in the number) you will please to deliver them their number out of the old sheep which we shall charge at seven shillings per head. there is a very likely ram on board (without horns) which we bought of capt. white for the company. this you will take care of. since writing the above we have been getting the sheep on board and find several very old, which please to take for the company's use, and we will get an abatement made by the person whom we bought them of and who has deceived us in them. please to dispatch newman as soon as possible as he has been detained here longer than he ought to have been. what will be wanting to fill up newman besides the lime please to make up in lumber. we would recommend it to you not to tarry till mr. white's arrival with you before you go up the river. mr. pickard and mr. hartt will give you an account of what freight they have on board which you will receive of them at the customary rate. we are sir, your sincere friends and devoted hum, serv's. hazen & jarvis. to jas. simonds, esq'r. philip john livingston, who has been mentioned as a promoter of the settlement of the townships, was a member of a distinguished and wealthy new york family. his mother was catherine de peyster and his wife a daughter of samuel bayard. his brother, john w. livingston, and his wife's brother, abraham de peyster, were both captains in col. edmund fanning's king's american regiment during the revolutionary war. philip john livingston was himself high sheriff of dutchess county, now york, and during the revolution held several important positions under british authority in the city of new york. his father, brothers and sons were all loyalists. about the close of the year col. glasier wrote from new york, seemingly in excellent spirits at the prospect of speedy settlement of the lands. "he informs us," writes leonard jarvis, "that one hundred families will go down next year to settle on the st. john river--that a vessel from ireland will arrive there this fall--that mr. livingston, a gentleman of fortune, has purchased three shares, and that the patent is daily getting into fewer hands. this gives us encouragement to think that some time hence our interest in your river will be valuable." among the proprietors of the townships who labored to effect their settlement and improvement was richard shorne, a native of ireland, with whom were associated the rev. curryl smith of alminsta, west meath, ireland, and his sons john and robert smith of the city of dublin. mr. shorne took up his residence at the river st. john in and lived there for several years. he was on july , , returned a member of the nova scotia house of assembly for sunbury county, his colleague being phinehas nevers of maugerville. he seems to have made his headquarters at or near st. anne's point, where supplies were sent to him from newburyport by hazen & jarvis. simonds & white informed their partners at newburyport in a letter dated june , , that they had been obliged to make considerable advances out of their stores to some settlers that mr. livingston had sent to the st. john river. livingston it seems found fault with certain items charged to him in the accounts and this led to a rather indignant remonstrance on the part of simonds & white. they wrote, "we are surprised that he should mention anything as to the sums not being due, when not only that but near as much more has been advanced to save the lives of the wretched crew he sent. we have ever found that the doing business for others is an office the most unthankful, and equally unprofitable." in the same letter mention is made of the arrival of richard shorne at st. john, with some families from new york, to settle his own and other lands for which he was agent. it appears that james simonds introduced richard shorne to his friends at newburyport for in one of his letters he writes: "mr. shorne, the bearer of this, is a proprietor in our lands and has left ireland with an intention of settling a number of rights on this river and for that purpose is invested with power from his friends to draw on them for any sum that may be necessary. i must beg your kind assistance and advice on his behalf as he does not appear to be much acquainted with the settlement of lands." still another extract--this time from a letter of philip j. livingston to james simonds, will throw additional light upon the story of the townships. "new york, september , . sir, * * * i intreated the favour of you last year to procure two families for sir charles dabers, who purchased the right of james allen, no. , in sunbury township, and desired peter carr might be fixed in that township. if sir charles's families will accept of the same quantity of land as captain spry's and mr. morris's have done, i should be glad the lots were laid out in the same manner for them. i have only to add with respect to sir charles's two families that you will be pleased to furnish them with such provisions as may be necessary for their subsistence and draw for the amount. as to my families hendrick and baker, and west--who i am desired to attend to and who i am informed talk of prosecuting me--be pleased to furnish the ungrateful fellows, if they mend their manners, in such manner as best consists with strict frugality--for the large sums i have expended in the purchase of my several rights and in prosecuting schemes of settlement (together with the sums i have been under the necessity of advancing to the society, and still must advance to discharge a protested will of glaziers, in this extreme scarcity of current specie) makes such an order prudential. i hope you have taken the cattle from brooks, or received the worth of them for me and be pleased to inform me particularly of the state of the families. you no doubt will hear from halifax of our petitioning the government to confirm our division of lands and therefore shall say nothing about it but refer you to capt. spry and mr. morris. as soon as the committee of montreal will be pleased to furnish us with cash we shall write to you about finishing the mills: till then nothing need be said about it. i should however be glad to know what sum you think would put the mills in working order. i intend, and it is my fixed resolve to be on st. john's river as soon as the weather will permit in the spring, which will be about the st of may. if mr. ogilvie should not send you an order to furnish james marrington with provisions--who was to settle general burton's right--i think it advisable to take that family for sir charles dabers, as general burton is dead, and the family without credit can't subsist. i am, sir, your much obliged and very humble servant, philip j. livingston. we may be pretty certain,that the complaints of the settlers mentioned by livingston were not entirely unreasonable. they had not anticipated the hardships before them and were ill prepared to grapple with them. probably the attractions of the river st. john had been represented in an exaggerated form, a circumstance not unknown in the case of promoters of colonization of a more recent date than that we are at present considering. peter carr and thomas masterson, two of livingston's tenants, settled on the west side of the river opposite musquash island; both seem to have proved good settlers. john hendrick, one of livingston's "ungrateful fellows," was also a valuable settler; he was the father of five sons and major studholme commended him in as "a good subject, an old soldier and a very deserving man." henry west, another of livingston's settlers, is also commended by major studholme as an exceedingly good subject. notwithstanding the efforts of individuals, the progress made by the saint john's river society in the settling of their townships was unsatisfactory, and about this time hazen & jarvis expressed their conviction that half of the proprietors would not settle their lands at all; they therefore desired simonds & white to take such measures as would secure their own rights in sunbury and new-town as well as those of moses hazen and governor thomas hutchinson--that of the latter having been lately purchased for mr. jarvis. simonds & white seem to have agreed with their partners as to the improbability of settling the townships, for in july, , they write: "the society's lands will be forfeited if not settled this year. we think it best to engage as many families, and fix them in conway, as will secure our whole interest on the river, if they can be had." this advice was based on the opinion of the authorities at halifax that settling the required number of families in one township would quite as effectively protect the interests of the grantees as if they were dispersed over the several tracts. appendix. halifax, th august, . sir,--we beg leave to trouble you with a memorial of a number of officers and disbanded soldiers, who came from new england, and are settled on st. john's river. we were sent to them lately as a committee of council, by order of the lieut.-governor, to inform them that they could have no grant of the lands they were upon, and that they must remove therefrom, as these lands were reserved by his majesty for disbanded troops. however, we are very apprehensive that their case must by some means or other have been misrepresented to the lords of trade, or not clearly understood. they are chiefly american soldiers, officers or privates; they have sold their farms in new england, and have transported themselves at their own expense; they have brought considerable stock with them, and their families, and if it is the intention of the ministry to settle disbanded troops on that river, we are of opinion these people will be of use and service, as it cannot be expected that english soldiers can bring any great stock with them. the removing these people now they are settled, will be their utter ruin, the particular circumstances of which they have set forth in their memorial to the lords of trade, which we beg the favor of you to present to them, and are with great respect, sir, your most obedient and very humble servts., chas. morris, henry newton. joshua mauger, esqr. memorial. to the right honourable and honourable the lords of commissioners of trade and plantations: the memorial of francis peabody, john carlton, jacob barker, nicholas west and israel perley, late officers in the american service and now disbanded, in behalf of themselves and others disbanded from the said service and now settled at st. john's river in nova scotia, humbly sheweth:-- that your memorialists, previous to their entering into his majesty's service, among other encouragements were induced thereto by a proclamation of his late majesty promising that at the expiration of the service they should be entitled to a grant of lands in any of his majesty's colonies for them to settle upon. that they have many of them been in service during this present war, and as americans are not intitled to half pay, as his majesty's british troops are, and therefore expected no other recompense than a donation of land agreeable to his late majesty's promise to them. that having been sollicited to settle in nova scotia, by colonel mcnutt, who appeared to us to be authorized by your lordships, having produced to us an instrument signed by your lordships and under seal promising a right of land to each settler equal to those already granted to horton, cornwallis and falmouth, we were induced to come into the colony of nova scotia, and accordingly sent a committee of us to view lands proper for a settlement. that our committee accordingly viewed several tracts of lands in nova scotia at our expense and advised us to settle upon st. john's river about seventy miles from the mouth in one of the extreme parts and frontiers of nova scotia, that we therefore applyed to the governor and council of nova scotia for a grant of the lands, not doubting of having the same confirmed to us, as they had granted several townships in this province of nova scotia to other new england proprietors who had not been in the service. that the governour and councill of nova scotia gave your memorialists encouragement, by telling your memorialists that the lands about st. john's river were reserved by your lordships for disbanded troops and that they would refer your memorialists' petition to your lordships. in confidence of this, and being ourselves soldiers, we apprehended we might with great safety prepare ourselves for settling the lands we petitioned for, and accordingly sold our estates in new england, and have at near a thousand pounds sterling expence transported ourselves, families and stock, and are now settled to the number of one hundred persons, on st. john's river seventy miles from the mouth; and a large number of disbanded officers and soldiers in confidence of the same encouragement have now sold all their possessions in new england and are hiring vessels to transport themselves and settle among us. we were not a little astonished when we were informed by his majesty's governor and council here that we could not have a grant of the lands we have settled ourselves upon. we therefore humbly apply to your lordships to lay our cause before his most gracious majesty for whose service we have often exposed our lives in america, that he would be pleased to direct the governor and council here to grant us these lands, we are now settled upon, as the removal therefrom would prove our utter ruin and destruction. we have been at no expence to the crown and intend to be at none, and are settled two hundred miles from any other english settlement. and your memorialists as in duty bound shall ever pray. recd. & read decr. , . chapter xxi. the firm of hazen, jarvis, simonds & white. the circumstances under which james simonds, william hazen and their associates organized the first trading company at st. john have been already related. their business contract was signed on the st of march, . in the course of a year or two the character of the original company was essentially altered by the death of richard simonds, the retirement of samuel blodget and richard peaslie and the admission of leonard jarvis as a new partner. questions had also arisen as to the rights of the several partners in the lands granted in to james simonds, james white and richard simonds. in order to settle these questions a new business contract was signed at newburyport, on the th april, , by james simonds, leonard jarvis and william hazen. the original contract is yet in existence amongst the papers of the hazen family. it is in the handwriting of leonard jarvis and is a well worn document which bears marks of having been repeatedly handled. this is not to be wondered at for this contract proved a veritable storm-centre in the litigation that ensued relative to the division of the lands between the partners. the legal proceedings assumed various phases and occupied the attention of the courts for a period of twenty years.[ ] [ ] the second contract, or articles of partnership, entered into by william hazen, leonard jarvis, james simonds and james white is printed in collections of the n. b. hist. soc., vol. i. p. . it is entered also in the book of records of the old county of sunbury. the original document bears the following certificate, "registered by me march th, , ja. simonds, dep'y reg'r." under the new contract hazen and jarvis were to have a half interest in the business, james simonds one-third and james white one-sixth, and all the lands on the river st. john that had been granted to any or either of the partners (mr. simonds' lot in maugerville excepted) were to be put into the common stock and divided in the following proportions, namely, one-half to hazen and jarvis, one-third to simonds and one-sixth to white. the same division was to be made of any lands that should thereafter be obtained by the members of the company, either individually or collectively, during the continuance of the partnership. mr. simonds sailed from st. john for newburyport in the schooner eunice on the th march, , but owing to head winds he was twenty days in arriving at his destination. he submitted to hazen and jarvis the accounts of the business at st. john for the three years of the company's operations and then repaired to haverhill, about fourteen miles distant, to visit his relations. on his return he was accompanied by his sister sarah and by his young bride, hannah peabody, who were about to settle with him at st. john. on his arrival at the store of hazen and jarvis, the new contract was presented to him for his signature. the proposition relative to the division of lands led to "a warm altercation and dispute." hazen and jarvis positively declined to continue in the business or to furnish supplies unless they were allowed an interest in the lands. they stated further that the goods on board the schooner eunice should not leave newburyport, nor would they furnish anything for the spring trade but insist upon immediate payment of the balance due them unless mr. simonds should execute the contract. much as he disliked the proposal the situation of mr. simonds did not admit of delay. he was anxious to settle his family at st. john, his workmen and tenants needed his supervision and the indian trade for the season would be lost unless the goods on board the eunice were delivered as speedily as possible. under these circumstances he deemed it best to sign the contract. hazen & jarvis claimed the company were at this time indebted to them in the sum of £ , , but in the subsequent proceedings in the court of chancery this was disputed by mr. simonds and the statements of the parties interested are so much at variance that it is difficult to determine the exact truth in the matter. james white declined to sign the new contract stating: "that having one-fourth part of the duties, trouble and services to undergo and perform in transacting the business of the copartnership, yet he was by the said contract entitled to one-sixth part only of the lands to be divided under the contract. but that, although he disliked as aforesaid his having no greater share than one-sixth part in the concern, he nevertheless joined with james simonds in carrying on the business in full confidence that some equitable allowance would be made him for his services over and above his proportion of the said profits and lands." on the occasion of james simonds' visit to halifax early in he obtained a license to occupy ten acres of land at portland point for carrying on the fishery and burning limestone, but it was not until the nd october, , that a grant was made to him, in conjunction with his brother richard, and james white, described as follows: "beginning at a point of upland opposite to his (simonds') house and running east till it meets with a little cove or river; thence bounded by said cove till it comes to a red head on the east side of the cove--thence running north eleven degrees fifteen minutes west till it meets canebekssis river, thence bounded by said river, the river st. john and harbour till it comes to the first mentioned boundary." the bounds of this tract are shown in the accompanying plan. it was supposed to contain , acres "more or less," but in reality it contained upwards of , acres. elias hardy in claimed that the grant must have originated in misrepresentation, either in the application or survey, otherwise the quantity could not have been so much mistaken. to this ward chipman replied that the land had never been actually surveyed, but making allowance for lakes, sunken and broken ground, etc., it was supposed not to contain much if any more than the number of acres mentioned in the grant. the grant was made in accordance with the return of the surveyor describing its boundaries and expressing them to be "with allowance for bad lands, containing in the whole by estimation , acres more or less." chipman adds, "no misrepresentation can well be supposed to have taken place at the time of passing this grant when the lands upon the river st. johns were considered as of very little value and there could be no inducement to such a step." however, in view of the fact that when surveyed the grant was found to contain , acres, it must be admitted that the allowance for "bad lands" was tolerably liberal, and the grantees were fortunate to escape without the loss of at least half of their property. the line running from mr. simonds' house eastward to courtenay bay is that now followed by union street. it will be observed that the peninsula south of this street which now contains the business part of the city of st. john, and which was laid out for the loyalists in as parr-town, was not included in the grant. the primary object of the grantees was evidently to obtain possession of the limestone quarries and the big marsh, and they probably deemed the land south of union street to be hardly worth the quit rents. [illustration: plan of grants to simonds & white] the first grant at the mouth of the river st. john included only a small part of the great marsh--then called by the indians, sebaskastaggan--and a further tract in that locality was applied for by james simonds in a memorial to the government of nova scotia. the memorial stated that james and richard simonds and james white had obtained a grant of , acres of mountainous and broken land at the mouth of the river saint john in the year , which had been improved by building houses, a saw mill and lime kiln, and the company had settled upwards of thirty people on it who were engaged in carrying on those two branches of business, but that the wood and timber so necessary for them was all consumed, therefore praying that , acres additional to the eastward of the said tract might be granted to the said james simonds. it can scarcely be believed that all the wood from the harbor of st. john to the kennebeccasis had been consumed in the five years of the company's operations at portland point. but probably the lumber in the vicinity of the saw-mill and the wood most convenient to the lime kilns had been cut and this was sufficient to afford a pretext for another grant. mr. simonds' memorial was considered by the governor in council december , , and approved. the grant did not issue till may , . the bounds are thus described: "beginning at a red head in a little bay or cove to the eastward of the harbor at the mouth of saint john's river described in a former grant to james simonds in the year , being the south eastern bound of the said grant, thence to run north degrees east chains, thence north degrees west chains or until it meets the river kennebeccasis, and from thence to run westerly until it meets the north eastern bound of the former grant." the boundaries of the second grant may be readily traced on the plan. like the former grant it included a good deal more than the , acres it was supposed to contain, and in this case, too, the grant escaped curtailment. the grant was in the name of james simonds, but the other partners relied upon the clause in their business contract as a sufficient guarantee of their interests. it must be admitted that as the first adventurers to settle in an exposed and at times perilous situation the first grantees of the lands at the mouth of the river st. john were entitled to special consideration. james simonds had to make repeated visits to halifax in connection with the business at st. john and these visits were sometimes attended with risk as will be seen from the following extract of one of his earliest letters. halifax, oct'r st, . "last night arrived here after four days passage from st. john's--the first hours were at sea in a severe storm, the second passed a place called the masquerades where there was seas and whirlpools enough to have foundered the largest ships--we were providentially saved with the loss of all our cable and anchor endeavoring to ride at anchor till the tide slacked, but in vain. it was unlucky for us that we happened to fall in with that tremendous place in the strength of flood tide in the highest spring tide that has been this year. gentlemen here say it is presumptuous to attempt to return the same way at this season in an open boat; but as the boat and men are at pisiquit (windsor), and i have no other way to get to st. john in season for my business this fall, shall get our business done here as soon as may be and return the same way i came. the plea of the above difficulty will have a greater weight than any other to have business finished here immediately. this morning i waited on the governor, secretary and all officers concerned in granting license, etc., who assure me that my request shall be granted directly so that i hope to be on my way to st. john's tomorrow." we cannot but admire the courage and enterprise of a man who after so fatiguing and perilous a journey, was ready, on the second day after his arrival in halifax, to remount his horse and travel forty-odd miles over a very rough road to windsor to face again the perils of the bay of fundy in an open boat at a stormy season. the establishment of fort frederick on the west side of the harbor of st. john, by brig. general monckton, in the fall of the year , contributed not a little to the advantage of the first settlers. the indians were disposed to be troublesome to the english, and the presence of the garrison rendered their situation less lonely and added very greatly to their sense of security. not only so, but the garrison brought quite an amount of business to the store of simonds & white. in the old accounts of the year are to be found the names of lieut. gilfred studholme of the th regt., lieut. john marr and commissary henry green. captain pierce butler, of the th regt., was in command at fort frederick the following year and his name also appears in the accounts. for a year or two after the fort was established the garrison was furnished by the provincial troops of massachusetts, afterwards by detachments of british regiments under various commanders. in addition to the trade with the officers and soldiers, simonds & white furnished wood and other supplies to the garrison, and doubtless it was not the least satisfactory incident in this connection that the pay-master was "john bull." the indians were unreliable customers and bad debts were not infrequent, the white settlers on the river had but little money and their pay was chiefly in shingles, staves, spars, clapboards, musquash and beaver skins; john bull paid cash. about three years after the arrival of simonds and white at st. john their trade with the garrison was interrupted by the removal of the troops to boston in consequence of some riots in connection with the enforcement of the stamp act. mr. simonds speaks of this circumstance in a letter dated july , , in which he writes: "the troops are withdrawn from all the outposts in the province and sent to boston to quell the mob. the charge of fort frederick is committed to me, which i accepted to prevent another person being appointed who would be a trader. i don't know but i must reside in the garrison, but the privilege of the fisheries on that side of the river and the use of the king's boats will be more than an equivalent for the inconvenience." the defenceless condition of the port of st. john brought disaster to the settlers there some years later, but of this we shall hear more by and by. the names of most of the heads of families settled at maugerville appear in the earlier account books of simonds & white, and later we have those of the settlers at gagetown, burton and st. anns. in the course of time branches of the company's business seem to have been established at convenient centres up the river, and their account books contain the invoices of goods shipped to peter carr, who lived just below gagetown, to jabez nevers of maugerville, and to benjamin atherton at st. ann's point. the goods appear to have been sold on commission and returns were made chiefly in lumber, furs and produce. the invoices of goods shipped to hazen & jarvis at newburyport by simonds & white included pine boards, shingles, clapboards, cedar posts, spars and cordwood, besides some , white and red oak staves, most of these articles having been taken in trade with the settlers on the river. messrs. hazen & jarvis carried on quite an extensive trade with the west indies where, in consequence of the manufacture of rum and molasses, there was a large demand for hogshead and barrel staves, these were obtainable in considerable quantities on the river st. john, and the terms at which they were purchased may be seen in the following agreement:-- "st. johns river, nov'r. th, . "it is agreed between simonds & white on the one part and joseph garrison & william saunders on the other, that the said garrison & saunders make and lay at the bank of the said river, at convenient place to load on board a vessel, five thousand of white oak barrel staves and the same number of white oak hogshead staves, the hogshead staves to be well shaved and both to be merchantable according to the laws of massachusetts bay, for which the said simonds & white are to pay, for barrel staves twenty-five shillings for each thousand and for the hogshead forty shillings; the said staves to be ready by the th day of april next and at farthest to be received by the th day of june. "to the performance of the above agreement each of the parties hereby bind themselves to each other in the sum of twenty pounds currency, to be paid in default of fulfilment of either party. "witness our hands, joseph garrison, wm. saunders, simonds & white." joseph garrison it may be observed was the grandfather of william lloyd garrison, the celebrated advocate of the abolition of slavery. he was one of the original grantees of maugerville, and drew lot no. , opposite middle island in upper sheffield. he was on the river st. john as early at least as july, , and is said to have been the first of the english speaking race to work the coal mines at grand lake. another early miner was edmund price of gagetown, who in the year delivered nine chaldrons of coal, to simonds & white for which they allowed him shillings per chaldron. nearly all the settlers on the river obtained their goods from the old trading company at portland point, and for their accommodation the little schooner "polly" made frequent trips to maugerville and st. anns. inspection of the old accounts shows that on the occasion of a trip up the river in may, , goods were sold to thirty families at various points along the way. in november, , goods were sold in like manner to more than forty families. at that time there were to be found in the company's day book the names of customers, nearly all of them heads of families. of these, were residents at portland point, lived across the harbor in conway, belonged to maugerville, to other townships up the river and ten were casual visitors, fishermen and traders. the partners amidst all their variety of business continued to make improvements upon their lands at st. john. they cleared up the great marsh and cut hay there, for in june, , mr. simonds writes to newburyport, "please send half a dozen salem scythes; haskel's tools are entirely out of credit here; it would be a sufficient excuse for a hired man to do but half a day's work in a day if he was furnished with an axe or scythe of that stamp." the next year plans were discussed for the general improvement of the marsh, and a number of indigent acadians were employed to assist in the construction of a "running dike" and aboideau. these acadians probably lived at french village, near the kennebecasis, and the fact that they had some experience in dykeing marsh lands shows that they were refugees from the expulsion of . the situation of the first dyke was not, as now, at the mouth of the marsh creek but at a place nearly opposite the gate of the cemetery, where the lake-like expansion of the marsh begins. the work was completed in august, , by the construction of an aboideau. those employed in the work were the company's laborers, six or eight acadians and a number of the maugerville people--about twenty-five hands in all. william hazen was at st. john that summer and he and james white gave their personal attendance, "not in overseeing the work only but in the active and laborious parts thereof," the company providing the implements, tools, carts, several teams of oxen, gundolas and other boats, materials and supplies of every kind including rum for the workmen. this dyke and aboideau served the purpose of shutting out the tide from about acres of marsh land. ten years later hazen & white built a new aboideau a little above the first one which had fallen into disrepair. a much better one than either was built at the mouth of the creek in by james simonds at a cost of £ , . the house of assembly voted £ towards building a bridge at the place and mr. simonds agreed to erect a structure to serve the double purpose of a public bridge and aboideau. the width of the structure was feet at the bottom and feet at the top. not long afterwards mr. simonds built here two tide saw-mills. these were not a profitable investment, and in one had fallen into total decay while the other was so much out of repair as to be of little benefit to its owner. after the first marsh bridge had been in existence about twenty-five years there arose a controversy as to what proportion of the cost of repairs should be borne respectively by the province, the city of st. john and the proprietors of the marsh. this controversy has continued to crop up at regular intervals during the last century and the end is not yet. when the loyalists arrived in the dyked marsh lands produced about tons of hay, but it was said that "if tilled and ditched they would produce much more." today the marsh raises at least four times the quantity of hay named above. after building the first running dyke in , hazen, simonds and white continued to devote considerable attention to the task of reclaiming and improving the marsh. in order to have ready access a road was laid out running back of fort howe hill and along mount pleasant to the marsh. not far from the present station at coldbrook they built a house with hovels for cattle and put up fences and settled a family there. a few years later they built two more houses and settled two more families there, each with a stock of cattle. the first tenants on the marsh were stephen dow, silas parker and jabez salisbury. the houses built for their accommodation cost from £ to £ apiece. about this time or a little later a small grist mill was built at the outlet of lily lake. one of the inducements that led james simonds to fix upon the harbor of st. john as a place of settlement was the abundance and excellent quality of the limestone there and its convenience for shipment. the license of occupation given under the hand of governor montagu wilmot on the th of february, , was in the terms following: "license is hereby granted to james simonds to occupy a tract or point on the north side of st. john's river, opposite fort frederick, for carrying on a fishery and for burning limestone, the said tract or point containing by estimation ten acres." soon after the formation of the trading company in the course of the same year, the manufacture of lime became an object of consideration. some reference has been made already in these chapters to the progress of the industry. the company had four lime kilns, the situation of which will be best understood by reference to modern land marks. one was at the base of fort howe hill at the head of portland street, a second near the site of st. luke's church, a third near the present suspension bridge, and a fourth on the road leading to the old "indian house." the work of quarrying and burning limestone was carried on in a very primitive fashion by the laborers of the company. in the winter a number of them were employed in quarrying the stone and hauling it with oxen to the kilns. the wood needed for burning grew almost at the spot where it was wanted, and its cutting served to clear the land as well as to provide the fuel necessary. in the course of ten years simonds & white shipped to newburyport and boston more than , hogsheads of lime for which they received four dollars per cask; they also sent lime to halifax, cornwallis and other places in nova scotia. the facilities for manufacturing in those days were very inadequate, the men lacked experience, casks were hard to get, and for a time the lack of a wharf and warehouse caused much delay in the shipment. and now a word as to the present condition of the lime industry at st. john. it cannot be questioned that the splendid quality of the limestone, its vast abundance, its convenient situation for shipment and the abundance and cheapness of the fuel needed, clearly prove that the manufacture of lime is destined yet to become an important industry in this community. fifteen years ago the industry was rapidly developing, when the mckinley tariff and the dingley bill completely excluded the st. john manufacturers from the united states market which passed into the hands of their rivals of rockland, maine. it is, however, only a question of time when there will be a removal of the prohibitive tariff in the interests of united states consumers, and this will be hastened as the deposits of limestone at rockland are exhausted. this circumstance, together with the increasing demands of the canadian market, will cause the manufacture of lime at st. john to become eventually an industry as great as that of shipbuilding in its palmiest days. about the year the prospects of the st. john lime burners seemed particularly bright. extensive operations were being carried on at randolph, robertson's point, south bay, glencoe, adelaide road, brookville and drury's cove. probably at least men were employed and a dozen draw kilns and twenty square kilns were in operation. in order to show the prospective development of that which in the time of simonds & white was an infantile industry, it may be stated that the capacity of the draw kiln is from to barrels of lime every twenty-four hours, while that of the square kiln is about barrels per week. the draw kiln is more expensive in construction than the other, but its capacity is greater, and it is not necessary to extinguish the fire, the lime being drawn out as it is burned and fresh stone put in. at several of the lime kilns at the narrows, above indiantown, the facilities are unrivalled. the stone is quarried from the cliff a few rods from the kiln, dumped in at the top by cart or wheelbarrow, drawn out at the bottom at the water's level and loaded on scows. the wood for the kiln grows on the surrounding hillsides or may be obtained from the saw-mills in the vicinity at nominal cost. at the time the manufacture of lime was interfered with by the mckinley bill, the following persons were actively concerned in the development of the industry: hornbrook and wm. lawlor & son at brookville, jewett & co. at drury's cove, isaac stevens and a. l. bonnell at south bay, frank armstrong and j. & f. armstrong at the narrows, hayford & stetson at glencoe above indiantown, charles miller at robertson's point, randolph & baker at randolph, w. d. morrow and purdy & green on the adelaide road. it is impossible with the data on hand to form any proper estimate of the quantity of lime manufactured by these firms, but it may be stated that in the year , hayford & stetson alone expected to burn , barrels in their draw kilns at indiantown and , barrels in their square kilns. in the work of quarrying the use of the steam drill was then being introduced. perhaps there is no better way of contrasting modern methods with the methods of those who first embarked in the industry one hundred and forty years ago, and at the same time showing the difficulties with which the pioneers had to contend, than by giving extracts from james simonds letters to hazen & jarvis. st. john's river, th may, . gentlemen:--i rec'd yours of d. of april the st inst., and of the th on the th inst. [the letters came by the schooner "polly" and the schooner "wilmot."] the schr. polly was dispatched immediately fishing: she is now near loaded. i am sorry the same dispatch could not be made with the schr. wilmot. a cargo of lime could not be prepared before hand for want of oxen to draw wood. have had bad luck in burning the lime, the wood being wet, as the snow was but just off the ground. one-third of the kiln is not burnt. * * * if you can get freight to this place, we believe it will be best to keep the schooner [wilmot] constantly running between here and newburyport. if the lime answers well can burn any quantity whatever. the want of hhds. is the greatest difficulty, the want of a house to cover it the next. "i doubt not of your making the greatest dispatch in all business relating to this concern, and wish i could make you sensible of the disadvantages we are under to do the same. i thank you for the willingness you express to relieve me and that you think there is any difficulty to go through in these parts. you may depend upon it that no pains will be spared in this quarter to make the concern advantageous. * * * i shall be extremely glad to wait upon mr. hazen when the schooner returns. "have been obliged to credit the inhabitants up the river to the amount of a considerable sum, which is to be paid part in furs and part in lumber (the lumber is not brought down). the officers and soldiers supplies and wooding the garrison is to be paid by a draft on the pay-master at halifax. * * * since the lime is all put in hogsheads i find there is near seventy (empty) hogsheads remains. they chiefly want one head each--twenty or thirty more will be sufficient for another kiln. if you send the schr. directly back, boards must be sent for heads, and should think it would be best to send refuse shook hogsheads for a third kiln with boards for heads and hoops, as they cannot be had here, also m. boards to cover a frame that is now decaying and will serve for a lime house and barn. have borrowed c. boards of mr. green (of the garrison). shall have a kiln ready to set fire to in three weeks after the schr. sails. dispatch in shipping lime can never be made without a lime house to have it ready when any vessel arrives. * * * in great haste, i am, gentlemen, yr. most obedient & humble servt, jas. simonds. to messrs. hazen & jarvis. in the year the company built a wharf and warehouse at portland point. their work was often interfered with by the nature of the season, the winters then, as now, being exceedingly variable. mr. simonds writes, under date march , :-- "have had but little snow this winter, but few days that the ground has been covered. have got to the water side a large quantity of wood and wharf logs; about hogshead lime stone to the kiln, and should have had much more if there had been snow. our men have been so froze and wounded that we have not had more than three men's constant labour to do this and sled sixty loads of hay from the marsh, saw boards for casks, look after cattle and draw firewood. shall continue drawing or draging wood and stone as long as the ground is frozen, and then cut the timber for a schooner and boat stone for a lime kiln, which with the wharf will take tons." the next winter was of a different sort, for mr. simonds writes on may , , "this spring has been so backward that there has been no possibility of burning any lime. the piles of wood and stone are now frozen together." the next winter was extremely mild, and mr. simonds writes on february , , "there has not been one day's sledding this winter, and the season is so far advanced there cannot be much more than enough to get the hay from the marsh; but shall haul logs to finish the wharf and for plank for fish cisterns if it can by any means be done." the popular idea that the climate of this province was much more severe in ancient than in modern days is not borne out by the correspondence of simonds & white with hazen & jarvis. from it we learn that years ago the navigation of the river st. john, as now, opened early in april, and that the river could be relied on as a winter route of communication to st. anns "only between the first of january and the last of february and then many times difficult." in the extracts just quoted mr. simonds states that during the winter of there had been but few days that the ground was covered with snow, and two years later he says that up to the th of february there had not been a single day's sledding. this testimony does not at all accord with the popular idea of an old-fashioned winter. it is not likely that there have been any material changes in the climate of this region since the days of champlain, and this conclusion is strengthened by the fact that the weather reports made to the dominion government since the time of confederation do not indicate any alteration in our climatic conditions during the last years. the first business contract under which william hazen, james simonds, james white and their associates engaged in business at the river st. john was signed on march st, . the members of the company immediately proceeded to engage their workmen and a very interesting illustration of the way they set about it has been preserved in an old indenture dated th march, , in which james simonds, "trader," made agreement with one edmund black of haverhill, "bricklayer," to pay the said black £ . s. for eight months labor at brickmaking, fishing, burning lime, or any other common or ordinary work at passamaquoddy, st. john, annapolis royal or any other part of nova scotia, in the bay of fundy. in addition to his pay, at the rate £ . s. per month, mr. simonds agreed to furnish black with "suitable victuals and drink and lodging." the exact date of the arrival of simonds and white, and their party at st. john is put beyond doubt by the following memorandum in mr. white's handwriting, found by the author among a collection of old papers: "haverhill, new england, . set off for river st. john, nova scotia, st day of april--arrived th april." by the second business contract, entered into by william hazen, leonard jarvis and james simonds on the th april, , it was provided that "all trade and business in nova scotia shall be done and transacted by james simonds and james white and whatever business is to be transacted at newbury-port shall be transacted by william hazen and leonard jarvis." the remittances of simonds & white consisted for the most part of fish, furs, lime and lumber and were at first sent to newburyport, but it was soon found to the advantage of the company that remittances should be made to boston where leonard jarvis went to dispose of them and to forward supplies needed at st. john. this was the commencement of st. john's trade with boston. there was no market for the spring catch of alewives (or gasperaux) at newburyport, so they were usually sent to boston. seven eighths of the furs and a large proportion of the lime and lumber were also sold in boston. as might reasonably be expected the first outlay of the company was comparatively large while the returns were small, but as time went on the remittances from st. john gradually increased and the outlay for supplies slightly diminished. during the earlier years of the partnership attention was given to deep water fishing, and large quantities of cod and pollock were taken in the bay of fundy and at passamaquoddy, but this branch of business was eventually discontinued and greater attention paid to the shore fisheries in which weirs were used to good advantage. in the first seven years of their operations the company sent barrels of gaspereaux to boston, but in the next four years more than , barrels were shipped. about the close of the year the revolutionary war put an end to all trade with new england and the business of hazen, jarvis, simonds & white as a company practically ceased. in the course of the dozen years of their operations, the goods and supplies received at st. john from boston and newburyport amounted in value to at least $ , . the partners were not agreed as to the general results of the business; mr. simonds claimed that the receipts had more than repaid the outlay, while hazen & jarvis contended that no money had been made but that there had probably been a loss. during the continuance of the business, cargoes of goods and supplies were sent to st. john, an average of six cargoes per annum. the value of goods and outfit sent the first season amounted to £ , . s. - / d. the value of goods and supplies furnished under the first business contract, which lasted only three years, was £ , . s. d. messrs. blodget, peaslie and simonds, jr., then cease to be concerned in the business and the partners under the second contract were hazen, jarvis, simonds and white. as early as the second year of their operations at st. john, hazen & jarvis began to feel the large outlay they had made and wrote, under date may , , to simonds & white, "we must beg you will do all in your power to remit us largely this summer. by having such a stock with you we are much straitened for cash, and we are sometimes obliged to do our business to a disadvantage." not long afterwards hazen & jarvis were unfortunate in their mercantile transactions at newburyport and this, together with the loss of some of their vessels, made it necessary for them to take special care of their interests at st. john, consequently after the signing of the second business contract william hazen came frequently to st. john. early in he determined to discontinue business altogether at newburyport and remove to st. john with his family. james white says that it was the wish of both mr. simonds and himself that mr. hazen should settle near them, making choice of such situation as he might deem agreeable to his taste, but that as the partnership business was drawing to a close the house to be erected should be built with his own money. mr. hazen made his choice of situation and built his house accordingly. in the evidence given in the law suit concerning the division of the lands obtained from time to time by the company, james simonds states that so far as the business at st. john was concerned mr. hazen's presence was not needed since the business was conducted there by himself and james white when there was five times as much to be done. to this mr. hazen replies that mr. simonds' letter of july, , speaks a different language,[ ] and he quotes figures to show that while for the first four years after the signing of the second contract the value of the supplies sent to st. john was £ , and the remittances from st. john £ , ; leaving a deficit in the business of £ ; during the next four years, when he (hazen) spent a large part of his time at st. john, the cost of supplies was £ , and the remittances £ , , showing a surplus of £ , ; a difference of £ , in favor of his being at st. john. [ ] this letter has unfortunately been lost. when william hazen decided to take up his residence at st. john in order more effectually to promote the interests of the company by superintending, in conjunction with simonds and white the various operations that were being carried on there, his partner leonard jarvis removed to a place called dartmouth, one hundred miles from newburyport, leaving his investment in the business untouched so as not to embarrass the company at a critical time. the supplies required at st. john were now furnished by his brother, samuel gardiner jarvis, of boston. as will presently appear, fortune did not smile upon the removal of william hazen and his family from their comfortable home in newburyport to the rugged hillsides of st. john. however, mr. hazen was a man of resolution and enterprise, and having once made up his mind in regard to a step of so much importance was not likely to be easily discouraged. he at once began to make preparations for the accommodation of his family by building a house of greater pretensions than any that had yet been erected at portland point. the first known reference to the hazen house is found in a letter dated feb.'y th, , in which james simonds writes, "we shall cut mr. hazen's frame in some place near the water where it may be rafted at any time." the house was erected in july following by the company's carpenters and laborers. when nearly finished it was unfortunately destroyed by fire. a new house was begun the next year, which like the other was built at mr. hazen's expense by the company's carpenters and laborers. as soon as the house was ready for occupation mr. hazen repaired to newburyport to bring on his family, and in the month of may, , they embarked in the company's sloop merrimack of tons. mr. hazen's tribulations were by no means ended, for on the voyage the merrimack was unluckily cast away on fox island and a good deal of her cargo, together with papers containing accounts of the company's business, was lost. however, all the passengers were saved, as well as most of their valuables, and were brought to st. john in captain drinkwater's sloop. drinkwater was obliged to throw overboard a load of cordwood to make room for the rescued passengers and crew and their possessions. for this he was of course remunerated by the company. the hazen family proved a great addition to the limited society of portland point. we learn from an enumeration of the inhabitants made this year that the hazen household included men, women, boys and girls, in all. mr. hazen's nephew, john, who subsequently removed to oromocto, was one of the family at that time. with such a family to provide for the grocery bill at the company's store grew rapidly. the first item charged to the account of the household after their arrival was lbs. of moose meat at d. per lb.; and it is of interest to notice that beef was then quoted at d. per lb., or double the price of moose meat. it is altogether likely that with the hazens moose steak was a much greater rarity on their arrival than it subsequently became, for at the time it was one of the staple articles of food and almost any settler who wanted fresh meat could obtain it by loading his musket and going to the woods. [illustration: old hazen house and grounds. this illustration is taken from a water color sketch of st. john now in possession of mrs. william hazen. the original sketch was made by a member of the hazen family more than eighty years ago. in the foreground appears the hazen house, square and substantial, and nearly in line with and beyond it is the chipman house, overlooking the valley; these two houses are the oldest now standing in the city. to the right of the chipman house may be seen the block-house, which formerly stood at the corner of king and wentworth streets. still further to the right is the old wind-mill tower, where the dufferin hotel now stands, and to the right of this is old trinity church before its first spire was destroyed by fire.] the hazen house still stands, considerably modernized it is true, at the corner of simonds and brook streets, having withstood the ravages of time and escaped the numerous conflagrations that have occurred in the vicinity for more than years. the present foundation is new with the exception of the stone wall on brook street which formed part of the original foundation. the roof formerly pitched four ways, running up to a peak in the centre. some of the old studs, lately cut out to admit of the placing of new windows, were found to be merely spruce poles flattened on two sides with an axe; the boards too are roughly sawn. the sheathing of the house has all been renewed and an ell, which used to extend up simonds street, has been taken down. the lower flat is at present used as a grocery, the upper flat as a hall. in olden times, and for many years, mr. hazen's garden and grounds extended to the water. his residence was by far the best and most substantial yet erected at portland--indeed in early days it was considered quite a mansion. the exact date of its erection, curiously enough, has been preserved. an entry in the old day book in james white's handwriting reads thus:-- "nov'r , --wm. hazen dr. to gall. w. i. rum, lb. sugar, qts. n. e. rum, dinner, &c., &c., shillings--for raising his house!" the entry shows that old time customs prevailed on the day of the "raising." it doubtless was quite a gala day in the settlement with everybody there to help and share in the refreshments provided. the removal of william hazen and his family from newburyport to saint john had been planned, as already stated, several years before it was carried into effect. it was not in any way influenced by the threatening war clouds which at that time hung low in the sky. mr. hazen's departure from newburyport, however, was nearly coincident with the clash of arms at lexington, and it was not long ere the events of the war between the old colonies and the mother country closed the ports of massachusetts. this unfortunate circumstance interfered greatly with the business of hazen, simonds and white at st. john. the retirement of leonard jarvis from the company necessitated a new business arrangement on the part of the remaining partners, and in may, , a verbal agreement was made between hazen, simonds and white to carry on the fishery and trading in the proportions of a half interest to william hazen a third to james simonds, and a sixth to james white. there is in one of the old account books an interesting memorandum in the handwriting of james simonds, covering several pages, which shows that the company had then a large and varied assortment of goods on hand. the list bears the following heading: "invoice of goods removed from the old to the new store, july st, ." the "new store" was finished about the time of mr. hazen's arrival; it stood a little to the west of the first store built at the point. among the buildings at portland point when the hazen family arrived were the residences of the three partners, the lime store, the salt store--or cooper's shop, the log store, the new store, a blacksmith shop, two or three small dwelling houses and one or two barns, besides a saw mill at the outlet of the mill pond, a grist mill at lily lake, and one or two hovels on the marsh. the english-speaking population settled around the shores of the harbor did not exceed one hundred and fifty souls. our authority on this point is indisputable. two documents are preserved amongst the archives at halifax, one entitled "a return of the state of the settlement at the mouth of the harbour of the river st. john the first day august, a. d. "; the other, "a return of the state of the township of conway on the western side of the harbour and river st. john on first of august, ." the list of inhabitants given below is compiled from these returns and shows that the number of persons living on the opposite sides of the harbor was nearly equal, namely, on the east side seventy and on the west side seventy-two. the enumeration seems to have been made by james simonds. portland point. name of master or mistress of the family. men. women. boys. girls. total. james simonds james white william hazen george deblois .. robert cram zebulon rowe .. john nason john mack .. .. .. lemuel cleveland christopher blake .. moses greenough .. -- -- -- -- -- conway. name of master or mistress of the family. men. women. boys. girls. total. hugh quinton jonathan leavitt .. daniel leavitt .. .. .. samuel peabody william mckeen thomas jenkins .. moses kimball .. .. elijah estabrooks john bradley james woodman .. .. .. zebedee ring gervas say .. .. samuel abbott .. .. .. christopher cross .. .. john knap .. .. .. eliakim ayer .. .. joseph rowe -- -- -- -- -- both of these little communities were of purely new england origin for it appears from mr. simonds' return that every individual at portland point, with the solitary exception of an irishman, was a native of america, and at conway all the inhabitants, save two of english nationality, were born in america. the conway people, it will hardly be necessary to remind the reader, lived in the district now occupied by carleton, fairville and adjacent parts of the parish of lancaster. at the time of the census they had horses--both owned by hugh quinton, oxen and bulls, cows, young cattle, sheep and swine; total number of domestic animals, . on the other side of the harbor hazen, simonds and white were the owners of horses and mules, oxen and bulls, cows, young cattle, sheep and swine; the other settlers owned cows, young cattle, sheep and swine; total number of domestic animals on the east side, . it will be noticed that the names of all the adult male inhabitants do not appear in the census lists of ; in the case of the households of messrs. simonds, white and hazen, for example, twelve males are returned. these included either relatives such as john hazen and stephen peabody, who are known to have been then living at st. john, or employes and servants who lived with their masters--among the latter were probably samuel beverley, levi ring, jonathan clough, jacob johnson, edmund black, reuben harbut and michael kelly. quite a number of the settlers in conway were employed by the company in various capacities, and as they were nearly all tenants of hazen, simonds and white they generally traded at the portland point store. these people suffered severely at the hands of american privateersmen as the war progressed, and most of them were forced to abandon their homes and move up the river for greater security. in the years and , business being nearly at a stand in consequence of the war and the stock of goods at portland point much diminished, it was agreed that james white should take charge of the store and keep the books at a commission of five per cent. his sales during the two years amounted to £ , . the war of the american revolution was at the outset a source of intense disappointment to hazen, simonds and white, although in the end it was destined to prove the making of their fortunes by sending the exiled loyalists in thousands to the river st. john and thereby rendering the lands they owned much more valuable. the war, however, completely overturned the plans the company had in view. our old pioneers had learned by their experience of a dozen years to conduct their business to the best advantage, and they now had everything in train for a promising trade with st. croix in the west indies. the hardships incident to the establishment of new settlements were over, and the partners were now settled in comfortable homes with their wives and children. it may be noted in passing that early marriages were much in vogue in those days, particularly with the ladies. sarah le baron was not sixteen years of age when she married william hazen. hannah peabody had not passed her seventeenth birthday when she married james simonds. elizabeth peabody was about seventeen when she married james white and her sister hephzibeth somewhat younger when she married jonathan leavitt. in most cases the families were large and the "olive branches" doubtless furnished sufficient occupation for the mothers to keep them from feeling the loneliness of their situation. james simonds had fourteen children. james white and jonathan leavitt had good sized families, but the hazens undeniably carried off the palm. dr. slafter in his genealogy of the hazen family says that william hazen had sixteen children; possibly he may have omitted some who died in infancy for judge edward winslow writes on jan'y th, , to a friend at halifax, "my two annual comforts, a child and a fit of the gout, return invariably. they came together this heat and, as forrest used to say, made me as happy as if the devil had me. the boy is a fine fellow--of course--and makes up the number nine now living. my old friend mrs. hazen about the same time produced her nineteenth!"[ ] [ ] the following inscription on the monument of mrs. sarah hazen was written by her grandson, the late chief justice chipman: sacred to the memory of mrs. sarah hazen, widow of the honorable william hazen, esquire; who was born in the province of massachusetts-bay on the d february, ; and died in the city of st. john on the rd april, . exemplary for christian piety and benevolence and the exercise of every female virtue. she bears to her grave the fond recollections of a numerous host of descendants and the esteem and respect of the community. while the presence of young children in their homes may have served to enliven the situation of saint john's pioneer settlers it added greatly to their anxiety and distress in the ensuing war period. more than this the absence of church and school privileges was becoming a matter of serious consequence to the little community at portland point and their friends across the harbor. we shall in the next chapter say something of the religious teachers who endeavored to promote the spiritual welfare of the inhabitants upon the st. john river at this period. chapter xxii. some early religious teachers on the river st. john. our knowledge of affairs on the river saint john down to the period of english occupation is largely derived from the correspondence of the jesuit missionaries, the last of whom was charles germain. after his retirement the acadians and indians remained for several years without any spiritual guide, a circumstance that did not please them and was also a matter of concern to the governor of nova scotia, who in december, , informed the secretary of state that a promise had been made the indians of the river st. john to send them a priest, which the lords of trade had now forbidden. the governor regrets this as likely to confirm the indians in their notion that the english "are a people of dissimulation and artifice, who will deceive them and deprive them of their salvation." he thinks it best to use gentle treatment in dealing with the indians, and mentions the fact of their having lately burned their church[ ] by command of their priest detained at quebec, as a proof of their zealous devotion to their missionaries. [ ] this statement is corroborated by charles morris, who writes in , "aughpack is about seven miles above st. anns, and at this place was the indian church and the residence of the french missionary; the church and other buildings about it are all demolished by the indians themselves." in the summer of , father charles francois bailly came to the river st. john and established himself at aukpaque, or, as he calls it, "la mission d'ekouipahag en la riviere st. jean." the register of baptisms, marriages and burials at which he officiated during his year's residence at aukpaque is still to be seen at french village in the parish of kingsclear, york county. the records of his predecessor, germain, however, were lost during the war period or while the mission was vacant. that there was a field for the missionary's labor is shewn by the fact that in the course of his year's residence on the river st. john he officiated at marriages, baptisms and burials. his presence served to draw the indians to aukpaque, where there were also some acadian families who seem to have been refugees of the expulsion of . the older indian village of medoctec was now deserted and the missionary ordered the chapel there to be destroyed, seeing that it served merely as a shelter for travellers and "was put to the most profane uses." the building had been standing for fifty years and was much out of repair. the ornaments and furnishings, together with the chapel bell,[ ] were brought to aukpaque. [ ] this chapel bell was most unfortunately destroyed by fire when the chapel at french village was burned early in march, . an illustration and some account of the bell will be found in a previous chapters. see pages , ante. for some reason the presence of the acadians at aukpaque and its vicinity was not acceptable to the authorities of nova scotia, and richard bulkeley the provincial secretary, wrote to john anderson and francis peabody, esqrs., justices of the peace for the county of sunbury, under date th august, : "the lieut. governor desires that you will give notice to all the accadians, except about six families whom mr. bailly shall name, to remove themselves from saint john's river, it not being the intention of the govern-ment that they should settle there, but to acquaint them that on their application they shall have lands in other parts of the province." it is remarkable with what persistence the french clung to the locality of aukpaque in spite of repeated attempts to dispossess them. the new englanders under hawthorn and church tried to expel them as long ago as , but villebon repulsed the attack on fort nachouac and compelled them to retire. monckton in drove the acadians from the lower st. john and destroyed their settlements, but the lowness of the water prevented his ascending the river farther than grimross island, a little above gagetown. a little later moses hazen and his rangers destroyed the village at st. ann's and scattered the acadians, but some of them returned and re-established themselves near the indian village at aukpaque. the governor of nova scotia apparently was not willing they should remain, hence his orders to anderson and peabody in . what these magistrates did, or attempted to do is not recorded, at any rate they did not succeed in effecting the removal of the acadians for we find that the little colony continued to increase. the missionary bailly wrote from aukpaque, june , , to bishop briand, "there are eleven acadian families living in the vicinity of the village, the same ones whom your lordship had the goodness to confirm at st. anne. * * it is a difficult matter to attend to them for they live apart from one another during the summer on the sea shore fishing and in the winter in the woods hunting." it appears that these poor people were reduced to the necessity of leading almost an aboriginal life to save themselves from starvation, yet they clung to the locality. major studholme sent a committee of four persons to explore the river st. john in july, .[ ] the committee reported sixty-one families of acadians settled in the vicinity of aukpaque. there were in these families men, women and children. about twenty-five families lived on the east side of the river, most of them near the mouth of the keswick; the others lived not far from the indian village on the west side of the river, and there were in addition two or three families at st. anne's point. in their report to major studholme the committee describe the acadians as "an inoffensive people." they had a considerable quantity of land under cultivation, but few, if any, of them had any title to their lands save that of simple possession. those who claimed longest residence were joseph martin who came in and joseph doucet who came in . the settlement began to grow more rapidly after the arrival of the missionary bailly, for out of the sixty-one heads of families included in the committees report to studholme nine came in , thirteen in , ten in and four in . all of these enjoyed the ministrations of l'abbe bailly. the missionary seems to have remained a year in residence and then at the instance of the governor of nova scotia was sent to the indians and acadians of the peninsula to the eastward of halifax. he, however, paid occasional visits to the river st. john as is shown by the records of the baptisms, marriages and burials at which he officiated when there.[ ] he is heartily commended by lord william campbell, the governor of nova scotia, for his tact in dealing with the indians and his loyalty to the constituted authorities of the province. it is not probable that there was very much ground for the complaint of simonds & white in their letter of june , , in which they say, "we have made a smaller collection of furrs this year than last, occasioned by the large demands of the priest for his services, and his ordering the indians to leave their hunting a month sooner than usual to keep certain festivals, and by our being late in getting to their village, the reason of which we informed you in our last. * * it's expected that there will be a greater number of indians assembled at aughpaugh next fall than for several years past." the extract quoted serves to show that the abbe bailly's influence was felt while he lived on the st. john river. he returned to canada in may, , and was afterwards consecrated bishop co-adjutor of quebec. [ ] the members of the committee were ebenezer foster, fyler dibblee, james white and gervas say. the first two were loyalists,the others old english settlers. ebenezer foster was one of the first members for kings county in the house of assembly. fyler dibblee was an attorney-at-law and agent for settlement of the loyalists. james white and gervas say were justices of the peace in the old county of sunbury and have already been frequently mentioned. [ ] one of the abbe bailly's registers is preserved at french village in york county and another, which seems a continuation of the first, is at caraquet, gloucester county. during the year of his sojourn on the river st. john and in his subsequent visits the abbe bailly baptized, married and buried many of the acadians as well as indians. the names of a good many individuals occur in his register whose descendants are numerous in madawaska, bathurst, caraquet, memramcook and other places in the province. among them may be mentioned joseph martin, jean baptiste martin, louis mercure, michel mercure, jean baptiste daigle, olivier thibodeau, jean thibodeau, joseph terriot, ignace caron, joseph cyr, pierre cyr, jean baptiste cyr, paul cyr, francois cyr, pierre pinette, francois violette, joseph roy, daniel godin, paul potier, francois cormier, jacques cormier, jean baptiste cormier, pierre hebert, joseph hebert, francois hebert, louis le jeune, joseph mazerolle, and jean baptiste vienneau. of these families the cormiers, cyrs, daigles and heberts came from beaubassin at the head of the bay of fundy; the martins from port royal (or annapolis), the mercures and terriots from l'isle st. jean (or prince edward island); the violettes from louisbourg, and the mazerolles from riviere charlesbourg. it is worthy of note that despite the hardships and misfortunes endured there are instances of marvellous longevity among the old french settlers. placide p. gaudet, who is by all odds the best authority on this head and whose wonderful knowledge of acadian genealogy has been attained by years of hard study and patient research, gives a striking instance of this fact amongst his relatives of the vienneau family. the ancestor of this family was one michael vienneau, who with his wife therese baude were living at maugerville in : both were natives of france. the husband died at memramcook in september, , at the age of years and months; his widow in march, , at the age of years. their son jean died at pokemouche in august, , at the extraordinary age of years, leaving a son moise who died at rogersville in march, , aged over yeas. the united age of these four individuals--father, mother, son and grandson--are equivalent to the extraordinary sum total of years. in the course of a year or two after the arrival of the loyalists the greater portion of the acadians living on the st. john river above fredericton removed--either from choice or at the instigation of government--to madawaska, caraquet and memramcook. a few, however, remained, and there are today at french village, in york county, about families of acadian origin numbering souls, and families in addition reside at the mazerolle settlement not far away. the most common family name amongst these people is godin; the rest of the names are mazerolle, roy, bourgoin, martin and cyr. the influences of their environment can hardly be said to have had a beneficial effect upon these people, few of whom now use the french language. and yet the fact remains that from the time the valley of the river st. john was first parcelled out into seigniories, in the year , down to the present day--a period of years--the continuity of occupation of some portion of the soil in the vicinity of st. ann's has scarcely been interrupted, and the records of the mission on the river st. john may be said to have been continuous for about the same time. the missionaries as a rule spoke well of the people of their charge. danielou said that there were acadian inhabitants in and that monsieur cavagnal de vaudreuil, governor of trois rivieres, was "seigneur de la paroisse d'ekoupag." he claims as a special mark of divine favor that in the little colony there was "neither barren woman nor child deformed in body or weak in intellect; neither swearer nor drunkard; neither debauchee nor libertine, neither blind, nor lazy, nor beggar, nor sickly, nor robber of his neighbor's goods." one would almost imagine that acadia was arcadia in the days of danielou. it may be well, whilst speaking of the remarkable continuity of the french occupation of the country in the vicinity of st. anns, to state that after chapter vii. of this history had been printed the author chanced to obtain, through the kindness of placide p. gaudet, some further information relating to the brothers d'amours, the pioneer settlers of this region. the brothers d'amours, louis, mathieu and rene, were residents on the st. john as early at least as the year , when we find their names in the census of m. de meulles. a document of the year [ ] shows that their claims to land on the st. john river were rather extravagant and hardly in accord with the terms of their concessions. louis d'amours, sieur de chauffours, claimed as his seigniory at jemseg a tract of land extending two leagues along the st. john, including both sides of the river two leagues in depth. he also claimed another and larger seigniory, extending from a point one league below villebon's fort at the nashwaak four leagues up the river with a depth of three leagues on each side. his brother rene d'amours, sieur de chignancourt, lived on this seigniory a league or so above the fort. [ ] this document is entitled "memoire sur les concessions que les sieurs d'amours freres pretendent dans la riviere st. jean et richibouctou." a copy is in the legislative library at fredericton. the statement made in a previous chapter that rene d'amours was unmarried and lived the life of a typical "coureur de bois" is incorrect. the census of shows that he had a wife and four children. his wife was charlotte le gardeur of quebec. the names of the children, as they appear in the census, are rene aged , joseph , marie judith , and marie angelique . while fixing his residence in the vicinity of fort nashwaak, rene d'amours was the seignior of a large tract of land on the upper st. john extending "from the falls of medoctek to the grand falls," a distance of more than ninety miles. after the expiration of eleven years from the date of his grant, rene d'amours seems to have done nothing more towards its improvement than building a house upon it and clearing acres of land. even in the indulgent eyes of the council at quebec, of which his father was a member, this must have appeared insufficient to warrant possession by one man of a million acres of the choicest lands on the st. john river. he made rather a better attempt at cultivating the land near his residence upon his brother's seigniory, for the census of shows that he had raised there minots [bushels] of corn, minots of peas, minots of beans. he had horned cattle, hogs and fowls; two men servants and one female servant; three guns and a sword. the seigniory of mathieu d'amours, sieur de freneuse, lay between the two seigniories of his brother louis at jemseg and nashwaak, extending a distance of seven leagues and including both sides of the river. both louis and mathieu made far greater improvements than rene, having a large number of acres cleared and under cultivation, together with cattle and other domestic animals. they had a number of tenants and eight or ten servants. the census of contains the following interesting bit of information: "naxouat, of which the sr. dechofour is seignior, is where the fort commanded by m. de villebon is established. the sr. dechofour has there a house, arpents [acres] of land under cultivation and a mill, begun by the sr. dechofour and the sr. de freneuse." the reference to a mill, built by the brothers louis and mathieu d'amours in the neighborhood of fort nashwaak, may serve to explain the statement of villebon in , that he had caused planks for madriers, or gun platforms, to be made near the fort.[ ] this mill at any rate ante-dates by the best part of a century the mill built by simonds & white at st. john in and that built by colonel beamsley glacier's mill wrights at the nashwaak in . doubtless it was a very primitive affair, but it sawed lumber, and was in its modest way the pioneer of the greatest manufacturing industry of new brunswick at the present day. [ ] see murdoch's hist. of nova scotia, vol. i., p. . among the contemporaries of the brothers d'amours on the river st. john were gabriel bellefontaine, jean martel,[ ] pierre godin, charles charet, antoine du vigneaux, and francois moyse. the author is indebted to placide p. gaudet for some interesting notes regarding the family of gabriel bellefontaine. mr. gaudet has satisfied himself in the course of years of genealogical research, that the godins now living on the river st. john and in the county of gloucester, the bellefontaines of the county of kent, and the bellefontaines and beausejours of anichat and other parts of nova scotia all have a common origin, and that in each case the real family name is gaudin, or godin. to any one conversant with the practice of the old french families of making frequent changes in their patryonymics this will not appear surprising. the common ancestor of the gaudin, bellefontaine, beausejour and bois-joly families in the maritime provinces was one pierre gaudin, who married jeanne roussiliere of montreal, oct. , , and subsequently came to port royal with his wife and children. their fourth child, gabriel gaudin (or bellefontaine) born in , settled on the st. john river in the vicinity of fort nashwaak. he married at quebec in , angelique robert jeanne, a girl of sixteen, and in the census of the names of four children appear, viz., louise aged , louis , joseph , jacques phillipe months. of these children the third, joseph bellefontaine, spent the best years of his life upon the st. john river and his tribulations there have been already noticed[ ] in these pages. he was living at cherbourg in at the age of years, and was granted a pension of livres (equivalent to rather more than $ . per annum) in recognition of his losses and services which are thus summarised: [ ] martel and bellefontaine have been mentioned already. see page ante. [ ] see chapter xiii., p. "the sieur joseph bellefontaine or beausejour of the river st. john, son of gabriel (an officer of one of the king's ships in acadia) and of angelique roberte jeanne, was commissioned major of the militia of the st. john river by order of m. de la galissonniere of th april, , and has always done his duty during the war until he was made prisoner by the enemy. he owned several leagues of land there and had the sad misfortune of seeing one of his daughters and three of her children massacred before his eyes by the english, who wished by such cruelty and fear of similar treatment to induce him to take their part, a fate that he only escaped by fleeing to the woods, bearing with him two other children of the same daughter." notwithstanding all their misfortunes and persecutions the acadians living on the st. john continued gradually to increase. after the return of the missionary bailly to canada they were without a priest until the arrival of joseph mathurin bourg in september, . this intrepid missionary was the first native of acadia to take holy orders and as such is a subject of especial interest. he saw the light of day at river canard in the district of mines on the th of june, . his father, michel bourg, and his mother, anne hebert, with most of their children, escaped deportation at the time of the acadian expulsion in and sought refuge at the island of st. john [prince edward island], from which place they were transported by the english to the northern part of france. young joseph mathurin became the protege of the abbe de l'isle-dieu, then at paris. he pursued his studies at a little seminary in the diocese of st. malo and on the th of september, , was ordained priest at montreal by monseigneur briand. after a year he was sent to acadia as missionary to his compatriots of that region. he took charge of his mission in september, . it at first extended from gaspe to cocagne, but in august, , the bishop of quebec added the river st. john (including "quanabequachies," or kennebeccasis) and all the rest of nova scotia and the island of cape breton. the bishop also appointed the abbe bourg his grand vicar in acadia. almost immediately afterwards he visited the river st. john and the little settlement at french village near the kennebeccasis where, early in september, he baptized a considerable number of children, whose names and those of their parents are to be found in the register which is still preserved at carleton, bonaventure co., in the province of quebec. [illustration: (signature) joseph mth. bourg prétre grand. v.] the missionary made his headquarters at carleton (on the north side of the bay of chaleur) but from time to time visited different parts of his immense mission. during the revolutionary war he paid special attention to the indians on the river st. john, who largely through his efforts were kept from taking the warpath and going over to the americans. the raids made by the machias rebels under jonathan eddy and john allan, in and , interfered in some measure with the visits of the missionary, for col. michael francklin in his interview with the maliseets at fort howe in september, , assured them that mons'r. bourg would have visited them sooner but for the apprehension entertained of his being carried off by the rebels. the chapel at aukpaque was not entirely disused during the absence of the missionary. we learn from john allan's narrative that while he was at aukpaque in june, , a number of acadians came on sundays to worship at the indian chapel and that he and his prisoners, william hazen and james white, also attended. while there they witnessed the funeral of an indian girl. the ceremony was a solemn yet simple one. the body was borne into the chapel, the bell tolling the while; after a short prayer they sang funeral hymns, that done some of the chiefs bore the coffin to the grave where there was another prayer followed by a funeral hymn. the coffin was then deposited in the grave and a handful of earth cast upon it by the relatives and friends of her sex. immediately afterwards the family wigwam was struck and removed into the thickest part of the village that the parents might be the better consoled for the loss of their child. the important services rendered by father bourg to government during the american revolution will be told in another chapter. the first clergyman of the church of england to visit the river st. john was the rev'd. thomas wood, a native of the town of new brunswick in the then british province of new jersey. mr. wood went to england in --the year of the founding of halifax--to be ordained by the bishop of london. he bore with him testimonials declaring him to be "a gentleman of a very good life and conversation, bred to physick and surgery." he became one of the missionaries of the society for the propagation of the gospel and was transferred from new jersey to nova scotia in . halifax and annapolis were destined to be the chief scenes of his labors, but he made frequent tours amongst the new settlements. mr. wood was an excellent french scholar and his gifts as a linguist were of no mean order. while at halifax he lived on terms of friendship and intimacy with antoine simon maillard, the missionary of the indians and acadians. in the year mr. wood attended the abbe maillard for several weeks during his last illness, and the day before his death, at his request, read the office for the visitation of the sick in the french language in the presence of a number of acadians, who were summoned for the occasion by the venerable missionary. mr. wood also officiated at the burial of m. maillard, reading over his remains in french the burial service of the church of england in the presence of "almost all the gentlemen of halifax and a very numerous assembly of french and indians." as the indians were for the time being without any religious teacher mr. wood resolved to devote much attention to them. he applied himself diligently to the study of their language, in which he had the assistance of the papers left him by the abbe maillard and by devoting three or four hours daily to the task he made such progress that upon reading some of m. maillard's morning prayers the indians understood him perfectly and seemed themselves to pray very devoutly. he resolved to persevere until he should be able to publish a grammar, dictionary and translation of the bible. he writes in , "i am fully determined that nothing but sickness or the bastille shall impede me in this useful service." two years later he sent to england the first volume of his native grammar, with a micmac translation of the creed, lord's prayer, etc. he was now able to minister to the indians in their own language. in july, , the indians attended a special service held in st. paul's church, halifax, at which there were present, the governor of nova scotia, lord william campbell, the officers of the army and navy and the principal inhabitants. the service was in the micmac tongue. an anthem was sung by the indians at the beginning and again at the close. on the th of august in the same year mr. wood married pierre jacques, an indian, to marie joseph, eldest daughter of old thoma, who deemed himself "hereditary king of the mickmacks." there were present at the wedding, besides the indians, sir thomas rich--an english baronet, and other gentlemen. after the ceremony mr. wood entertained the company at his own house. it was in the summer of the year that mr. wood made his first tour up the river st. john. lord william campbell provided him with a boat and party of men, under the direction of capt. william spry of the engineers. capt. spry will be remembered as one of the active promoters of the settlement of the townships on the st. john river, where he had large land interests. his knowledge of the river made him an excellent guide. the english missionary arrived at st. john harbor on the st day of july, and the day following, which was sunday, held the first religious service conducted by an english speaking minister at portland point. the account books of simonds & white suffice to show that no business was transacted at their establishment on sunday, and doubtless the day was honored as a day of rest, but up to this time there had been no opportunity for church-going. among those who heard the first sermon preached at st. john in english were in all probability, the messrs. simonds & white and their employes, edmund black, samuel abbott, samuel middleton, michael hodge, adonijah colby, stephen dow, elijah estabrooks, john bradley, william godsoe, john mack, asa stephens, and thomas blasdel. to these may be added the wives of james simonds, of black, abbott and one or two other workmen; also a few settlers living in the vicinity. it may be observed in passing that edmund black was foreman in the lime burning; abbott, middleton and godsoe were employed in making hogsheads and barrels for lime and fish; hodge and colby were shipwrights engaged in building a schooner for the company; the others were fishermen and laborers. doubtless the service held by mr. wood was a very simple one, and if there were any hymns they were sung from memory, for there is reason to believe that there was not a single hymn book in the community, with the exception of a copy of watt's psalms and hymns owned by james white. notwithstanding the difficulties of the situation, the rev'd. thomas wood on the occasion of his first sunday at st. john established a record which, after the lapse of nearly a century and a half, remains unequalled for interest and variety. in the morning he held divine service and preached to the english settlers and baptized four of their children. in the afternoon he conducted a service for the benefit of a number of indians, who chanced to be encamped there, baptized an indian girl and addressed them in their own language. in the evening, many of the french inhabitants being present, he held a third service and preached in french, the indians again attending as many of them understood that language. these french people were chiefly acadians living at what is now called french village, in kings county. they were at that time employed by simonds & white in building an aboideau and dykeing the marsh. in one respect the indians perhaps did better than the english or the acadians, for at the close of their service mr. wood desired them to sing an anthem which, he says, "they performed very harmoniously." the next day the missionary sailed up the river, visiting the settlers in their homes as he proceeded. at gagetown he baptized joseph and mary kendrick, twin children of john and dorothy kendrick. mr. wood says the children were born in an open canoe on the river, two leagues from any house, a circumstance that illustrates the exigencies liable to arise in a region so sparsely inhabited as the valley of the river st. john then was.[ ] [ ] major studholme in states that john kendrick was a good subject, an old soldier and very deserving. he lived near gagetown with his wife and five children. he settled there about the year . on sunday the th of july mr. wood held service at maugerville, where he had a congregation of more than two hundred persons but, owing to the fact that the people were chiefly "dissenters from new england," he baptized only two infants. he thought, however, if a prudent missionary were settled among them their prejudices against the church of england would speedily vanish. he speaks in his letter to the s. p. g. of the rising townships of gagetown, burton and maugerville as a most desirable field for a missionary and commends the indians to the special consideration of the society. after making a call at morrisania, a little below fredericton, where two children were baptized, mr. wood and his companions proceeded to "okpaak" which he terms "the farthest settlement upon the river." he thus describes the reception they met with on their arrival: "the chief of the indians came down to the landing place and handed us out of our boat, and immediately several of the indians, who were drawn out on the occasion, discharged a volley of musketry turned from us, as a signal of receiving their friends. the chief then welcomed us and introduced us to the other chiefs, and after inviting us to their council chamber, viz. their largest wigwam, conducted us thither, the rest of the indians following. just before we arrived we were again saluted with their musketry drawn up as before. after some discourse relative to monsieur bailly, the french priest that government have thought proper to allow them, finding them uneasy that they had no priest among them for some time past, i told them that the governor had employed him to go to the indians to the eastward of halifax and had sent me to officiate with them in his absence. they then seemed well enough satisfied, and at their desire i began prayers with them in mickmack, they all kneeling down and behaving very devoutly. the vice concluded with an anthem and the blessing." mr. wood says that although there were then at aukpaque indians of three different tribes, micmacs, maliseets and caribous,[ ] they all understood the micmac language, and he expresses regret that he had not been sent among them two years before, being satisfied that he could have gained their confidence and good will. [ ] probably canibas or kennebec indians. the reverend thomas wood closed a laborious and successful ministry of thirty years at annapolis, where he died december , . some account has already been given, in the chapter descriptive of the progress of the settlement at maugerville, of the first religious teachers in that locality, messrs. wellman, webster and zephaniah briggs. we shall have something more to say of their first resident minister, the rev'd. seth noble, when we come to deal with events on the river at the time of the american revolution. as already stated the first protestant church on the river was erected at maugerville in the year . this building was at first placed on a lot the title of which was afterwards in dispute, and regarding the possession of which there was rather a bitter quarrel between the old inhabitants and the loyalists. in consequence the building was removed to the lot in sheffield where the congregational church now stands. an interesting account of this incident is given in the narrative of the rev. joshua marsden, a methodist pioneer missionary on the st. john river, who says:-- "the presbyterian [i. e. congregational] chapel at sheffield, was a church-like building of frame-work, with a spire steeple and a spacious gallery. this chapel had been drawn down upon the ice of the river more than five miles: it had first been erected at maugerville, upon a litigated lot of land, which the society, not choosing to bring to the issue of a law-suit, they determined to remove the chapel bodily to their own glebe, five miles lower down the river. the whole settlement, men, horses and more than one hundred yoke of oxen, were present to assist in this more than herculean enterprise. the chapel was raised from its stone foundation by immense lever screws. prodigious beams of timber were then introduced under the whole length of the building; into these were driven large staples, to which the oxen were yoked with strong chains of iron. when all things were ready for a movement, at a given signal, each man standing by his horse or oxen, this great building, capable of holding eight hundred persons, was drawn along and down the bank of the river to its appointed place, where another foundation having been prepared, it was again raised by levers upon it with very little damage. not a single pew in the gallery or bottom having been removed in the process. in this emigrated chapel, i had the satisfaction of preaching the gospel of the kingdom to a large congregation. perhaps you will wonder how the ice of this mighty river bore upon its bosom so ponderous a body; but your surprise will cease when i inform you that in the depth of winter, it is from two to three feet in thickness, making a bridge of aqueous crystal capable almost of bearing up a whole town." chapter xxiii. on the eve of the american revolution. when the county of sunbury was established in , there was no english settlement north of st. ann's and the river was but sparsely settled from that place to the sea. nevertheless the immense forest wealth of the st. john was gradually becoming known and appreciated. the french ship of war "avenant," as long ago as the year , after discharging her cargo of supplies for villebon's garrison and goods for the french traders, took on board some very fine masts for the french navy that had been cut upon the river st. john. afterwards, when the control of acadia passed into the hands of the british, they in turn began to procure masts for the navy on the st. john. england's place among the nations then, as now, depended very largely on the efficiency of her navy, and the reservation of trees suitable for masts for the largest ships of war became a matter of national concern. in consequence governor legge, at the request of the home government, desired charles morris, the surveyor general of nova scotia, to report as to ungranted lands in the province that might be reserved for the purpose of supplying masts for the navy. on the st may, , mr. morris submitted his report. he states that his knowledge of the country was based upon personal observations during a residence of nearly twenty-eight years, in the course of which he had visited nearly all parts of the province. in the nova scotian peninsula there were very few pines fit for masts, but on the river st. john, above the settlements, and on the other rivers flowing into it were great quantities of pine trees fit for masts and great quantities of others growing into that state, which being so far inland, protected by growth of other timber and by hills, and remote from those violent gales which infest the coast would prove the most desirable reserve for the purpose intended. mr. morris adds: "i am of opinion that a reserve of all the lands on the river st. john above the settlements for the whole course of the river, at least twenty-five miles on each side, will be the most advantageous reserve to the crown of lands within this province, especially as the river is navigable for boats and rafting of masts the whole course of it, as also for rafting of masts in the several branches of it; and in this tract is contained a black spruce, fit for yards and topmasts, and other timber fit for ship-building." the importance to coming generations of the "black spruce, fit for yards and top-masts," was little dreamed of by charles morris. however, it seems that in accordance with his recommendation the region of the upper st. john was at this time reserved to the crown because its towering pines supplied the best masts in the world for the british navy, and at the close of the american revolution it was still unbroken forest. after the formation of the county of sunbury, april , , magistrates and other officers were appointed and representatives chosen to sit in the house of assembly. some of our local historians, including the late moses h. perley, have stated that the first representative of sunbury county was charles morris jr., but although mr. morris may have been the first to take his seat he was not the first elected representative. the late thos. b. akins, of halifax, a recognized authority on all points of local history, in a communication to the late j. w. lawrence states that the election writs on file at halifax give the names of capt. beamsley glasier and capt. thomas falconer as the first representatives of the county of sunbury. it does not appear that either of these gentlemen attended the sessions of the house of assembly, and as it was the rule for members who were absent two years to forfeit their seats for non-attendance, a new election was held in , when richard shorne and phinehas nevers were returned. the house of assembly was dissolved two years later, and at the ensuing general election charles morris, jr., and israel perley were returned; the former took his seat but mr. perley appears never to have done so and in james simonds was elected in his stead. mr. simonds was in attendance in october, , and took the customary oath, being the first inhabitant of the county to take his seat in the legislative halls of nova scotia. a little later william davidson was elected a member and he and james simonds were the sitting members when the old province of nova scotia was divided at the isthmus and the province of new brunswick constituted in . among the earliest magistrates of the county of sunbury were john anderson, beamsley glasier, francis peabody, james simonds, james white, israel perley, jacob barker, phinehas nevers and gervas say. the courts of general sessions of the peace meet regularly at maugerville and transacted such business as was necessary, appointed constables and other parish officers, administered justice and so forth. benjamin atherton was clerk of the peace for the county, james simonds registrar of deeds and judge of probate, and james white deputy sheriff. the first collector of customs was capt. francis peabody, who died in . the attention given to the collection of duties was but nominal and charles newland godfrey jadis, a retired army officer who had settled at grimross on the st. john river, wrote to the secretary of state in calling his attention to the prevalence of smuggling of which "major-ville" was the centre, connived at, as he alleges, by the magistrate and collector. this little incident is an indication that the sentiment of the massachusetts settlers of maugerville was identical with that of their kinsmen in new england in regard to the enactment of the stamp act and the duties imposed by the british government. a few particulars of interest regarding the settlers on the river st. john are to be gleaned from the papers of david burpee,[ ] at one time deputy sheriff of the county. there were very few framed dwellings, nearly all the settlers living in log houses. as late as there were in gagetown, burton, and at st. anns and vicinity about houses occupied by english inhabitants, of which only were framed buildings. the proportion of framed dwellings in maugerville was little better, the vast majority being log houses. [ ] see hannay's article on the maugerville settlement, collections of n. b. hist. soc., vol. , p. . horses were few and nearly all the ordinary farm work was done by oxen. it is doubtful if any of the settlers owned a carriage, wagon or sleigh at this time. carts were generally used in summer and sleds in winter. some of the men owned saddles, of which there was much borrowing, and there were a few pillions for the ladies. traveling in the summer time on land was either on horseback or afoot for the roads were too bad to admit of the use of wheeled vehicles. all the cooking in those days was done at old-fashioned fireplaces and the utensils included a gridiron, toasting iron, frying pan, iron kettle and a number of pots and pans. the dishes used in the farm houses were mostly of pewter and their number limited. a broadcloth coat or a beaver hat was a valuable asset which might be handed down to the second or even the third generation. a decent broadcloth suit would cost a man as much as he could earn in three months at the current rate of wages, after paying his board; consequently the early settler did not often indulge in the luxury of a new suit. leather breeches were commonly worn, and from their lasting qualities were an economical garment. the money handled by the early settlers was quite insignificant; nearly all transactions were of the nature of barter. corn and furs were the staple articles of trade. the value of corn varied considerably, according to the season, from shillings to shillings a bushel, the average rate to shillings. half a bushel of corn was the equivalent of a week's board. the ordinary rate of farm wages was s. a day except for such work as mowing, framing, hoeing corn, and raking hay, for which the rate was s. d. a day. the wages of a woman servant were s. a month and as all articles of clothing were very dear compared with modern prices, they became excessively so when the rate of wages was taken into account. it took a whole month's wages to purchase a pair of stays and two months wages to buy a gown. a pair of silk mits cost s. d. and a lawn handkerchief s. d. calico was charged as high as s. a yard and cotton wool at s. d per lb. as a rule everything that had to be purchased out of a store was dear, while the prices of country produce were exactly the reverse. butter sold as low as d. per lb.; lamb at - / d. per lb.; beef, - / to d. per lb.; geese at s. each; fowls s.; potatoes s. d. a bushel. dr. hannay quotes the following as a transaction on the part of mr. burpee, which would be regarded as unusual at the present day: "september , . "took a hog of mr. joseph howlin of burton to fat, the hog weighs now lbs. and i am to have as many pounds of pork as he weighs more when i kill him. "dec. st, , killed mr. howlin's hog. weighed before he was killed lbs." showing that mr. burpee obtained lbs. of pork as the result of his bargain. david burpee taught school one winter, receiving s. per month for each pupil. the tuition fees were paid in a great variety of ways; in work, in grain, leather, musquash skins, rum, hauling hay and making shoes; he only handled s. in cash for his entire winter's work. in the year mr. burpee kept a diary which, while it contains some facts of interest, serves on the whole to show how narrow and monotonous was the life of the early settlers on the st. john. on sundays they attended religious services held at the houses most convenient for the purpose and in the winter there was some social visiting. however, we are now to speak of more stirring events. many were the trials and tribulations of the dwellers on the st. john--particularly of those living at the mouth of the river--during the american revolution. most of their calamities might have been avoided had an efficient garrison been maintained at fort frederick, but the troops were withdrawn from that post in and sent to boston in consequence of disturbances there, and for five or six years the care of the fort and barracks was entrusted to james simonds. lord william campbell reported, about the close of : "since fort frederick at the entrance of st. john's river has been dismantled and the garrison, which formerly consisted of an officers' command, reduced to a corporal and four privates, he had had frequent complaints of the indians on the river." the presence of a half dozen soldiers was of little utility at any time and of no utility whatever after the revolution began. it was not until the erection of fort howe that adequate steps were taken for the protection of the inhabitants. the year was an extremely busy one at st. john. our old pioneers james simonds, james white and william hazen were making strenuous efforts to place settlers upon their lands in the township of conway, while at the same time mr. hazen's house was being finished at portland point, an aboideau was being built to reclaim the "great marsh," and the business of the fishery, lime-burning and general trade was being vigorously prosecuted. troublous times were now at hand. the situation of hazen, simonds and white when hostilities arose between the old colonies and the mother country was very embarrassing. by birth and early association they were new englanders and most of their old time friends and neighbors were hostile to the crown. massachusetts was practically the cradle of the revolution, and the vast majority of its inhabitants were bitterly opposed to the king and his government. but while simonds, white and hazen were massachusetts men they now held various official positions under the government of nova scotia and had sworn true allegiance to the king. very likely they would have gladly assumed a neutral attitude in the approaching contest, but alas for them the force of events left no room for neutrality. it is clear that at the beginning of the war the people of massachusetts hoped for the cordial support of the settlers on the river st. john. this is probably the reason why the small colony at portland point was not molested during the early stages of the war and that william hazen was able on two occasions to obtain the release of the company's schooner "polly" after she had been taken by american privateers. but as the war progressed considerate treatment gave place to acts of vandalism, and the sentiments of the settlers at st. john towards their old compatriots of massachusetts became intensely bitter. their tenants in the township of conway were driven from their homes and obliged to seek refuge up the river, and those living at portland point suffered equal hardships. when the loyalists arrived in , it was proposed that the township of conway should be escheated for their benefit. james simonds protested stoutly against this, representing the expense that had been incurred in the endeavor to settle the township and the losses and sufferings of the tenants who were for a long time unprotected against the depredations of the enemy. he adds, "instead of our being stripped of our rights to make amends for the losses of the loyalists, who were plundered in new york or elsewhere, we have at least as weighty reasons as they can possibly offer to claim restitution from government for the value of all the property taken from us, our distress by imprisonment, etc. they had a numerous british army to protect them, we had to combat the sons of darkness alone. in a word we had much less than they to hope for by unshaken loyalty and incomparably more to fear." the statement of mr. simonds is confirmed by major studholme who wrote to gov'r. parr, "messrs. hazen and simonds, two of the original proprietors of conway, have at different times placed a number of settlers on the lands of that township and have used every effort on their parts to comply with the terms of their grant, but the continual robberies committed by the rebel boats during the war, to which these settlements have been exposed, obliged a number of their tenants to remove. however, as every exertion was used by them i take the liberty to recommend their claims on that township to your consideration." during the earlier stages of the revolution the attitude of the people of machias on the one hand, and of the inhabitants of the township of cumberland on the other, proved a matter of concern to the dwellers on the river st. john. machias was settled in by a colony from scarborough, one of the oldest towns in massachusetts. during the war it was the asylum of disloyal spirits who fled thither from various parts of nova scotia. the township of cumberland included a considerable portion of what is now the county of westmorland. the inhabitants were mostly natives of new england, and many of them warm sympathizers with the revolutionary pasty. jonathan eddy was their representative in the nova scotia house of assembly in , and john allan in . eddy and allan, aided by william howe and samuel rogers, succeeded in stirring up an active rebellion in cumberland, which called for prompt action on the part of the government of nova scotia. the leaders fled to machias and a reward of £ was offered for the apprehension of eddy and £ for each of the others. the attitude of the indians was another matter of serious concern to the settlers on the river st. john. immediately after the declaration of independence the american congress authorized washington to call forth and engage the indians of nova scotia, st. john and penobscot to take up the hatchet and fight against the english. with strange inconsistency congress a few days later, in an address to the people of ireland, denounced the king of england on the ground that "the wild and barbarous savages of the wilderness have been solicited by gifts to take up the hatchet against us, and instigated to deluge our settlements with the blood of defenceless women and children." the micmacs seem to have been reluctant to take sides in the contest and in answer to john allan's solicitations they said, with quiet dignity, "we do not comprehend what all this quarreling is about. how comes it that old england and new england should quarrel and come to blows? the father and the son to fight is terrible! old france and canada did not do so; we cannot think of fighting ourselves till we know who is right and who is wrong." the style of argument employed to induce the simple minded natives to side with the americans is seen in the letter addressed to them by the agent of the congress of massachusetts (may , ), in which the following statements occur: "the ministry of great britain have laid deep plots to take away our liberty and your liberty; they want to get all our money and make us pay it to them when they never earned it; to make you and us their servants and let us have nothing to eat, drink or wear but what they say we shall; and prevent us from having guns and powder to kill our deer and wolves and other game or to send to you to kill your game with so as to get skins and fur to trade with us for what you want. * * * we want to know what you our good brothers want from us of clothing or warlike stores, and we will supply you as fast as we can. we will do all for you we can and fight to save you at any time. * * * the indians at stockbridge all join with us and some of their men have enlisted as soldiers and we have given each of them a blanket and a ribbon, and they will be paid when they are from home in the service, and if any of you are willing to enlist we shall do the same for you. * * * brothers, if you will let mr. john preble know what things you want he will take care to inform us and we will do the best for you we can." in consequence of the inducements of allan and the other agents, pierre tomah and ambroise st. aubin, leading chiefs of the maliseets of the river st. john, went to the trading post the americans had established at penobscot, and signed an agreement to the following effect: "we heartily join with our brethren the penobscot indians in everything that they have or shall agree with our brethren of the colony of massachusetts, and are resolved to stand together and oppose the people of old england that are endeavoring to take your and our lands and liberties from us. * * * we desire that you will help us to a priest that he may pray with us to god almighty, etc., etc." the indians agreed to bring their furs and skins to penobscot and to procure their provisions, goods and ammunition there. many of them were heavily in debt to simonds & white, so that the prospect of a new trading post with no old scores to settle appeared to them particularly inviting. washington honored the indians with letters accompanied by belts of wampum, after the approved indian fashion. a delegation from the st. john river, pierre tomah at its head, went soon afterwards to washington's headquarters on the delaware, where they received a flattering welcome and were sumptuously entertained. on the th december, , washington thus addressed them: "brothers of the st. john's tribe: it gave me great pleasure to hear by major shaw that you keep the chain of friendship, which i sent you in february last from cambridge, bright and unbroken. i am glad to hear that you have made a treaty of peace with your brothers and neighbors of massachusetts bay. my good friend and brother, gov'r pierre tommah, and the warriors that came with him shall be taken good care of, and when they want to return home they and our brothers of penobscot shall be furnished with everything necessary for their journey. * * * never let the king's wicked counsellors turn your hearts against me and your brethren of this country, but bear in mind what i told you last february and what i tell you now." washington's overtures were not without effect. this is evident from the fact that the maugerville people in may, , reported that gen. washington's letter had set the indians on fire, and they were plundering all people they thought to be tories, and that perhaps when the supply of tories was exhausted others might share the name fate. "we think it necessary," they added, "that some person of consequence be sent among them." the indians had always been allies of the french and had never fully accepted the change of ownership on the river st. john. they were disposed to view the cause of the americans with favor, more particularly when the french became their allies. john allan was by far the most active and energetic agent of congress in dealing with the indians. he was born in edinburgh and when four years of age accompanied his parents to halifax when that city was founded by cornwallis. at the commencement of the revolution he lived near fort cumberland, on the new brunswick side of the isthmus of chignecto and carried on an extensive indian trade visiting all the villages as far west as the penobscot river. his estimate of the indians is not particularly flattering. he says: "the indians are generally actuated according to the importance or influence any one has who lives among them. they are credulous to a degree, will listen to every report, and generally believe it and think everything true that is told them." we shall presently see that allan was able to make good use of his knowledge of the weaknesses of indian nature. he was appointed superintendent of the eastern indians in by the massachusetts congress, with the military rank of colonel. he was the most persevering and troublesome antagonist the british had in eastern new england. had it not been for his exertions it is probable the americans would have lost their outpost at machias, and it is possible that the english would then have held the country as far west as the river kennebeck. chapter xxiv. affairs on the st. john during the revolution. in the year armed vessels were fitted out in several of the ports of new england to prey on the commerce of nova scotia. many of these carried no proper commissions and were manned by hands of brutal marauders whose conduct was so outrageous that even so warm a partizan as col. john allan sent a remonstrance to congress regarding their behaviour: "their horrid crimes," he says, "are too notorious to pass unnoticed," and after particularizing some of their enormities he declares "such proceedings will occasion more torys than a hundred such expeditions will make good." the people of machias were particularly fond of plundering their neighbors, and that place was termed a "nest of pirates and rebels" by general eyre massey, the commandant at halifax. early in the summer of it was rumored that stephen smith of machias, one of the delegates to the massachusetts congress, had orders to seize fort frederick, and the governor of nova scotia recommended the establishment of a garrison there to prevent such an attempt. but the military authorities were too dilatory and in the month of august a party from machias, led by smith, entered st. john harbor in a sloop, burned fort frederick and the barracks and took four men who were in the fort prisoners. the party also captured a brig of tons laden with oxen, sheep and swine, intended for the british troops at boston. this was the first hostile act committed in nova scotia and it produced almost as great a sensation at halifax as at st. john. the event is thus described by our first local historian, peter fisher, in his sketches of new brunswick:-- "a brig was sent from boston to procure fresh provisions for the british army, then in that town, from the settlements of the river saint john. the same vessel was laden with stock, poultry, and sundry other articles mostly brought from maugerville in small vessels and gondolas, all of which had been put on board within about fifteen days after the brig had arrived. while she was waiting for a fair wind and clear weather an armed sloop of four guns and full of men from machias came into the harbor, took possession of the brig, and two days after carried her off to machias; the first night after their arrival the enemy made the small party in the fort prisoners, plundered them of everything in it, and set fire to all the barracks, but at that time they did not molest any of the inhabitants on the opposite side of the river." the burning of fort frederick seems to have been made known at halifax by james simonds and daniel leavitt, who went to windsor in a whale boat to solicit to protection of government. their report caused a mild sensation on the part of the military authorities, and they began to take measures for the defence of the province, although it was more than two years before any adequate protection was afforded the settlers at st. john. being apprehensive that the company's effects in the store at portland point might be carried off by marauders, mr. simonds a few weeks afterwards carried a portion of the goods to windsor in the schooner "polly" and disposed of them as well as he could. the next year was a decidedly uncomfortable one for the people living at portland point. in the month of may two privateers entered the harbor, remaining more than a week. their boats proceeded up the river as far as maugerville and informed the people that the province would soon be invaded from the westward, that privateers were thick on the coasts and would stop all manner of commerce unless the settlers joined them. they threatened, moreover, that should the americans be put to the trouble and expense of conquering the country all who sided with the mother country must expect to lose their property and lands. about this time some indians arrived with letters from general washington, and it was believed that the whole tribe was about entering into an alliance with the americans, as they showed a decided predilection in their favor and even threatened to kill the white inhabitants unless they would join the "boston men." there can be little doubt that the majority of the people on the river st. john were at this time not indisposed to side with the revolutionary party. a public meeting was held on the th of may, , at the meeting house in maugerville, at which a number of highly disloyal resolutions were unanimously adopted. one of the leading spirits at this meeting was the rev. seth noble, who had already written to gen'l. washington to represent the importance of obtaining control of western nova scotia, including the river st. john. jacob barker, esq'r., was chosen chairman and a committee, consisting of jacob barker, israel perley, phineas nevers, daniel palmer, moses pickard, edward coy, thomas hartt, israel kinny, asa kimble, asa perley, oliver perley and hugh quinton, was appointed to prepare the resolutions which were subsequently adopted by the meeting. one of the resolutions reads:-- "resolved, that it is our minds and desire to submit ourselves to the government of massachusetts bay and that we are ready with our lives and fortunes to share with them the event of the present struggle for liberty, however god in his providence may order it." the resolutions adopted were circulated among all the settlers on the river and signed by persons, most of them heads of families. the committee claimed that only twelve or thirteen persons refused to sign, of whom the majority lived at the river's mouth. if this statement be correct, the resolutions certainly could not have been submitted to all the inhabitants, for there is evidence to show that at least thirty families outside of the township of maugerville were steadfastly and consistently loyal to the government under which they lived. the names of these people are as deserving of honor as the names of the loyalists, who came to the province from the old colonies in . in the township of maugerville the sentiment of the people was almost unanimous in favor of the revolution and we have no data to determine who were loyalists--if any. but at st. anns we have benjamin atherton and philip weade; in the township of burton, john larley, joseph howland, and thomas jones; in gagetown zebulon estey, henry west, john crabtree, john hendrick, peter carr and lewis mitchell; on the kennebecasis benjamin darling; in the township of conway, samuel peabody, jonathan leavitt, thomas jenkins, john bradley, gervas say, james woodman, peter smith, and christopher cross; at portland point, james simonds, james white, william hazen, john hazen, william godsoe, lemuel cleveland, robert cram, john nason, moses greenough, christopher blake and most of the men in the employ of hazen, simonds & white. a number of acadians too were loyal to the government of nova scotia and should be mentioned in this connection. louis mercure and his brother michel mercure rendered good service to the governor of nova scotia in carrying dispatches to and from quebec during the war period. of the martin family, jean, simon, joseph, francois and amant were warmly commended by major studholme for their fidelity and active exertions on various occasions. members of the cyr family also rendered important services as guides or pilots, oliver, jean baptiste and pierre cyr being employed in that capacity by major studholme and lieut. governor michael francklin. at this distance of time it is difficult to determine the number of people on the river who were disposed to be actively disloyal. that they had many inducements to cast their fortunes with their friends in massachusetts is undeniable. at maugerville the powerful influence of the pastor of the church, rev. seth noble, and of the leading elders and church members was exerted in behalf of the american congress. jacob barker, who presided at the meeting held on the th may, was a justice of the peace and ruling elder of the church. israel perley and phineas nevers were justices of the peace and had represented the county of sunbury in the nova scotia legislature. daniel palmer, edward coy, israel kinney and asa perley were ruling elders of the church. moses pickard, thomas hartt and hugh quinton were leading church members. the gentlemen named, with asa kimball and oliver perley, were appointed a committee "to make immediate application to the congress or general assembly of massachusetts bay for relief under the present distressed circumstances." at the maugerville meeting it was unanimously agreed that the committee, whose names have just been mentioned, should have charge of all matters civil and military until further regulations should be made, and that all who signed the resolutions should have no dealings with any person for the future who should refuse to sign them. the tone of several of the resolutions was that of open defiance to the constituted authority of nova scotia, the signers pledging themselves to support and defend the actions of their committee at the expense, if necessary, of their lives and fortunes. one of the resolutions reads: "resolved that we will immediately put ourselves in the best posture of defence in our power; that to this end we will prevent all unnecessary use of gunpowder or other ammunition in our custody." asa perley and asa kimball, two of the committee, were sent to boston to interview the massachusetts congress on behalf of the people living on the river. the commissary general there was directed to deliver them one barrel of gunpowder, flints and weight of lead from the colony's stores; they were also allowed to purchase stand of small arms. so far all seemed favorable to the promoters of rebellion, but bitter humiliation was in store, and within a year the vast majority of those who had pledged themselves to the people of massachusetts as "ready with their lives and fortunes to share with them the event of the present struggle for liberty, however god in his providence may order it," were compelled to take the oath of allegiance to his majesty king george the third for the defence of the province of nova scotia against all his enemies. an impartial review of the situation on the st. john at this stage of the american revolution would seem to show that the sympathies of a large majority of the settlers were with the revolutionary party, at the same time many of the people were much less enthusiastic than their leaders and if left to themselves would probably have hesitated to sign the resolutions framed by their committee. the presence of the privateersmen, who came up the river at the time the meeting at maugerville was held, was an incentive to many to sign the resolutions and the attitude of the indians was a further inducement to stand in with the people of massachusetts, who had lately entered into an alliance with the savages. during the autumn of this year ( ) the bay of fundy was so infested with pirates and picaroons that the war vessels vulture, hope and albany were ordered around from halifax. they were not entirely successful in their endeavor to furnish protection, for the privateers frequently managed to steal past the large ships in the night and in fogs and continued to pillage the defenceless inhabitants. another hostile act was now undertaken by the people of machias of a more ambitious kind than the destruction of fort frederick. this was nothing less than an attempt to capture fort cumberland, where lieut. col. joseph goreham was in command with a detachment of the royal fencible americans. this attempt was in the end a miserable fiasco, but it occasioned much alarm at the time and was the cause of some distress to the loyal inhabitants of that region. the leader of the expedition against fort cumberland was jonathan eddy, who had lately been commissioned a lieutenant colonel by the massachusetts congress. he was a native of norton (mass.), and had settled in cumberland about , but early in the revolution returned to massachusetts. about the time of the declaration of independence, in july, , eddy set out from boston in company with jonathan rowe (lately a resident at st. john) and proceeded to machias. he left that place about the middle of august in a schooner with only men as a nucleus of his proposed army. at passamaquoddy a few people joined him. the party did not meet with much encouragement on their arrival at st. john, although hazen, simonds and white from motives of prudence refrained from any hostile demonstration. proceeding up the river to maugerville eddy met with greater encouragement. "i found the people," he writes, "to be almost universally hearty in our cause; they joined us with one captain, one lieutenant and twenty-five men, as also sixteen indians." the captain of the st. john river contingent was probably hugh quinton[ ] who has as his lieutenant one jewett of maugerville. others of the party were daniel leavitt, william mckeen, elijah estabrooks, edward burpee, nathan smith, john pickard, edmund price, amasa coy, john mitchell, richard parsons, benjamin booby and john whitney. the rest of the party lived in maugerville but their names are not known. [ ] hugh quinton is called captain quinton by the rebel col. john allan in his diary, printed in kidder's "military operations in eastern maine and nova scotia during the revolution." the report of major studholme's exploration party in states that "quinton was one of the cumberland party, but since hath taken the oath of allegiance to his majesty and behaved in a loyal manner; turned out sundry times and fought the rebel parties." on his arrival at cumberland jonathan eddy was joined by many of the settlers there who, like himself, were originally from new england. his whole force probably did not exceed men, badly equipped and without artillery. the indians of the st. john were under the leadership of ambroise st. aubin, one of their chiefs, and eddy says they "beheaved most gallantly."[ ] however, the expedition failed to achieve anything of importance. the rebels plundered some of the loyal inhabitants, seized one or two small provision sloops and captured several prisoners, including the rev. john eagleson, acting chaplain of the garrison. all attempts to take the fort were futile, and the arrival of major batt and captain studholme with reinforcement from windsor rendered eddy's situation exceedingly precarious. on the th november his forces were utterly routed by major batt and hastily retired to the river st. john. they suffered great hardships on the way and arrived at that place in a very miserable condition. unwelcome as they had proved to the people of portland point on the occasion of their advance they were still more unwelcome visitors on their return. in their forlorn condition hazen, simonds and white were obliged to furnish them with provisions and supplies in order to keep them from plundering their houses and stores. all that the trading company obtained in return was a bill of exchange on the massachusetts congress, which probably was never paid: "gentlemen,--at sight of this our second bill (first of same tenor and date not paid) please to pay to messrs. william hazen, james simonds and james white, or order, forty-one spanish milled dollars for value received of them. ezekiel foster, lt., edmund stevens, capt., david prescott, lt., daniel meservy, lt. portland, nova scotia, december th, . to the honorable council of massachusetts state. [ ] a pretty full account of the siege of fort cumberland will be found in the canadian archives for , pp. - . other particulars are to be found in kidder's military operations in eastern maine and nova scotia, pp. - . james white says the supplies furnished to prescott & co., were regarded as for the common cause and benefit to get rid of a needy lawless banditti. on the th february ensuing general massey wrote to the secretary of state that eddy, rogers, allen and howe were at the river st. john preparing with the indians for attacks on various points in the spring. to counteract the designs of eddy and his associates colonel michael francklin was appointed superintendent of indian affairs about this time. early in may, , a serious attempt was made by john allan to establish a trading post for the indians on the river st. john. james simonds proceeded via windsor to halifax, and reported the matter to the civil and military authorities. lieut.-governor arbuthnot at once sent colonel arthur goold and an armed party, commanded by major studholme, to investigate, and on their arrival at st. john the machias rebels promptly decamped. on the th may goold wrote a letter to the inhabitants of the townships up the river stating that the government of nova scotia was well informed of their treasonable doings, and that the tenure of their present possessions was due to the clemency of "the most just, generous and best of princes." he informed them that his object was to effect a reconciliation for them with government, and added that while he came to them with the olive branch of peace, in the event of a refusal of his overtures an armed force would follow and employ a very different argument. a meeting was immediately held at maugerville, and in reply to goold a letter was sent "by order of the body of the inhabitants assembled," written and signed in their behalf by israel perley. in this letter the inhabitants aver "that their greatest desire hath ever been to live in peace under good and wholesome laws," and they declare themselves "ready to attend to any conditions of lenity and oblivion that may be held out to them." colonel goold in his reply expresses his pleasure at the unanimity of their resolution to observe loyalty and obedience to the government under which they lived and his surprise that they should suffer a few incendiaries to disturb the public tranquillity. he hoped the word "committee" had nothing so terrible in its sound as to frighten a majority of the loyal people. "why not," he says, "form a committee in favor of government and see which is strongest? i will throw myself into your scale and make no doubt but we shall soon over balance these mighty law-givers." on the afternoon of may , two of john allan's lieutenants, william howe and john preble, arrived at manawagonish cove[ ] in a whale boat, not knowing of the presence of a british sloop of war at st. john. captain featus, the commander of the "vulture," promptly dispatched a boat to the place and took their whale boat, but howe and preble and their party fled to the woods and eventually got back to machias. the captain of the "vulture" also intercepted two schooners laden with supplies for the proposed indian "truck house." [ ] commonly called mahogany cove, about three miles to the west of the harbor of st. john. evidently there was a lack of harmony and mutual confidence among the inhabitants of maugerville at this time, for on the th may they wrote to colonel goold a letter in which, after representing their recent conduct in the best light they could and admitting that they had acted in opposition to this majesty's government, they say: "as your honor is pleased to tell us that you bring the olive branch of peace we humbly crave the benefit, and as we were jointly concerned in the first transgressions we now humbly request that no distinction may be made as to a pardon, there being in this place as in all others private prejudices and contentions, and perhaps some persons may avail themselves of this opportunity to got revenge by representing their private enemies as the greatest enemies of government. we earnestly request no such complaint may prevail upon your honor to make any distinction with regard to any person, on the river, and we beg your honor's answer to this petition from your honor's most humble servants. [signed]. israel perley, seth noble, jonathan burpee, elisha nevers, junr." in reply to the letter, from which the foregoing is taken, colonel goold said that his ears would be shut to all insinuations as to the honesty of their submission, that their letter "seems to breathe the sentiments of a sincere repentance for inconsiderate follies past" and that he had not the least doubt it would meet with as favorable a reception as they could desire. in spite of goold's tact and diplomacy there were a few irreconcilables, and on the th of may he wrote from maugerville to major studholme, who had remained with the troops at the mouth of the river: "as notwithstanding every measure which i have taken to reclaim some of the principal people concerned in the late defection, amounting to rebellion, on this river has proved fruitless, and they still continue obstinately bent on quitting their houses and families rather than submit to his majesty's gracious offers of clemency, i think it my duty to give you their names--seth noble, elisha nevers, jacob barker--that you may act upon the occasion agreeable to the orders you may have received from major general massey." colonel goold administered the oath of allegiance to all but a few of the people and, as his last word, charged them on no account to suffer those who inconveniently absented themselves from accepting the proposals of the lieutenant governor to return to their habitations without first proceeding to halifax to beg pardon for their past behaviour. "i have nothing more to observe to you," he adds, "but that you are not to pay any more respect to those gentlemen, who lately styled themselves your rulers, than to every other common member of the community." on his return to halifax, col. goold reported to lt.-gov'r arbuthnot that the inhabitants at the river st. john had cheerfully taken the oath of allegiance, after delivering up two pieces of ordnance, formerly concealed by the french inhabitants. while he was at the river st. john goold had an interview with the indians and made a speech to them in french, which seems to have produced a strong impression. eight of the chiefs and captains swore allegiance to king george the third in the name of their tribe, and had they been let alone by allan it is probable the indians would have given no further trouble to the government or nova scotia. colonel goold regarded his arrival as opportune as allan, howe and others from machias were assembled "to play the same game as last year." before he left the river he addressed a letter to the indians in french, promising that he would represent to lieut. governor arbuthnot their great desire to have a priest, and expressing his confidence that they might have mons'r. bourg, then stationed at the bay of chaleur, who would be put on the same footing as their late missionary bailly. john allan was altogether too determined a man to abandon the struggle for supremacy on the st. john without another attempt. he learned on the th of may that the "vulture" had returned to annapolis and he set out the very next day from machias with a party of men in four whale boats and four birch canoes. at passamaquoddy he met with some encouragement and thirteen canoes joined the flotilla, which proceeded on to musquash cove, where they arrived on the evening of the st of june. having ascertained that there were no hostile vessels at st. john harbor, allan sent one of his captains named west with a party to seize messrs. hazen, simonds and white. the party landed at manawagonish cove and marched through the woods to the st. john river above the falls, crossing in canoes to the east side of the river and landing at what is now indiantown. proceeding on through scrubby woods and over rough limestone they reached portland point undiscovered and took william hazen and james white prisoners. james simonds and israel perley had accompanied col. goold to halifax, and in this way mr. simonds escaped capture, but it seems that a little later he was not so fortunate. there was now no good will between the people of portland point and their neighbors to the west. allan states in his journal "hazen and simonds jeered our officers, saying that they made breastworks of women and children." tradition has it that on one occasion james simonds told a party of marauders who had come to pillage that they would never dare to face the king's soldiers for their blood was nothing but molasses and water. leaving a guard of sixty men at the mouth of the river under capt. west, the rest of the invaders proceeded up the river taking their prisoners with them. west and his party took possession of woodman's store and buildings opposite indiantown and occupied them for barracks. allan directed them "to range the woods from hazen's across the river above the falls round to the old fort," and in accordance with his instructions, the party came over every day to the portland shore in order to capture any vessel that might enter the harbor and to prevent the landing of marines or seamen from any british man of war. allan in his diary gives an account of his trip up the st. john, which is of much local interest. he claims that the majority of the settlers, despite their late submission to colonel goold, were friendly to the american cause, although some were "great zealots for britain." gervas say and lewis mitchell are said to have been instrumental in bringing col. goold to the river, and allan endeavored to seize them. mitchell's influence was feared on account of his being of "an insinuating turn, particularly among the french and indians." mitchell was captured by strategy at his house above grimross, but a few days later he "made his elopement" and with the assistance of other loyalists was not long in bringing a hornet's nest about the ears of his captors. on the th of june, , john allan and his party arrived at the indian village of aukpaque where forty or fifty indians arrayed in war costume of paint and feathers fired a salute of welcome. the visitors responded and in order still further to impress the indians landed their two cannon and discharged them. allan says that he found several of the indian captains were vastly fond of colonel goold and seemed undetermined what to do. the inclinations of the head chiefs were diverse. ambroise st. aubin favored the americans but pierre tomah, the head chief, inclined the other way. allan, knowing full well by experience as an indian trader the weak points of indian character, flattered them, appealed to their cupidity, promised them presents and supplies at the trading posts he was about to establish, recalled the days when they regarded the french as their brothers affirming he had come to do them justice with the same authority monsieur boishebert had exercised in the french time. he was formally admitted into their tribe and as they had then no missionary the priest's house, adjoining the chapel, was placed at his disposal. during the next four weeks there were formal conferences with the indians with the usual harangues, exchange of wampum belts and other ceremonies, in all of which the american agent appeared to advantage. the chiefs made quite a grand appearance on these occasions, particularly ambroise st. aubin, who was attired in blue persian silk coat, embroidered crimson silk waistcoat, scarlet knee breeches and gold lace hat with white cockade. in the intervals between the formal conferences allan visited the various wig-wams exercising his powers of persuasion. messengers were sent up the river to invite delegates from medoctec and madawaska and they were not long in coming when they learned that allan had a quantity of supplies and presents at his disposal. the madawaska delegates arrived on the th of june in three birch canoes; in their party were seven chiefs and captains, one of whom had lately assumed the name of washington. allan wrote to boston that he needed an abundance of things sent him as he had been forced to be very lavish in his dealings with the indians. in the same letter he says of the white inhabitants on the river: "i am sorry to say that the people have not acted with that spirit that becomes the subjects of liberty. much division has been among them * * and having no encouragement of success from the westward and being surprised so suddenly by col. goold the whole gave up and are now become the subjects of britain. the greatest part, i believe, is as zealous as ever and it is their earnest desire that a sufficient force be sent from the continent." william hazen and james white had been left by col. allan prisoners on parole at the mouth of the river but a little later they were brought up the river to aukpaque by capt. preble. james white's long acquaintance with the indians gave him an influence which allan seems to have feared, for after they had been with him a week he issued the following order:-- "wednesday, june , , prisoners hazen and white are to mess by themselves for the future, not any of our people to join them." the very next day they were sent to the mouth of the river again and placed in charge of capt. west and his party. after the arrival of the indian delegates from medoctec and madawaska a general conference was held at aukpaque, and it was agreed "that peace and friendship be now established permanent and lasting between the united states and the several tribes"; also that a truck house be established by john preble where the indians should obtain good prices for their furs. the account of john allan's doings at aukpaque, as found in the diary kept by his lieutenant, frederick delesderniers, is very interesting reading. it is apparent to one who reads between the lines that allan felt he was engaged in a game at which two could play, and he feared the outcome. in spite of his zealous efforts and apparent success he was suspicious of his native allies. he complains that the impression colonel goold had made seemed to occasion in them an unsteady conduct, so much so that notwithstanding their fair speeches, he at times thought that they would desert him after all. he was the more uneasy when informed by israel perley, on his return from halifax, that the government of nova scotia had appointed so competent a man as col. michael francklin agent of indian affairs. as soon as the authorities at halifax were informed of allan's expedition and of what was going on at the river st. john they sent the warship "mermaid" and the sloops "vulture" and "hope" with a detachment of troops under major studholme to put a stop to the proceedings. allan's force at the mouth of the river consisted of about sixty men under command of captains west and dyer. the "vulture" arrived on june rd and an attempt was made to land a party of troops at portland point, but being fired upon by the enemy and having no exact information as to their strength, nothing further was attempted until the arrival of the other ships. allan says "the 'vulture' anchored within cannon shot of simonds[ ] where our party lay." [ ] that is simonds house at portland point. on the morning, of the th of june about men under command of major studholme left the ships in eight barges and landed at "mahogany bay," opposite the house of samuel peabody. they marched thence through the woods two and a half miles in the direction of the falls. near what is now called fairville, studholme encountered about men under captain west and a sharp conflict ensued in which several were killed on both sides. the american invaders were soon put to flight and retired with great precipitation. it is said that one poor fellow climbed into a tree and might have escaped, but the cracking of a branch betrayed his hiding place, and a soldier "dropped him like a little carrier pigeon." the next day colonel francklin arrived from windsor with about troops and militia. finding studholme in hot pursuit west and his men ascended the oromocto and crossing to the head waters of the maguadavic managed to reach machias. they had little or no provisions and endured almost intolerable hardships. when tidings of the disaster were brought to aukpaque all was consternation. pierre tomah and some of the indians were disposed to listen to the overtures of michael francklin, but ambroise st. aubin and the others were of a contrary mind. the approach of the british filled the indians with serious alarm, and this allan did not try to allay, his greatest fear being that pierre tomah, "always considered a tory," might induce the majority to make terms with the english. he succeeded in persuading the indians that their safest course was to retire with him, assuring them that the americans would shortly regain possession of the river, and that the massachusetts government would provide for them and in the end reward them for their fidelity. the indians resolved to accompany allan to machias. they abandoned their cornfields, took down their chapel bell and moved across the river to the mouth of the keswick. a conference was held with the indians in mazroles's barn on sunday, july th, at which delesderniere says colonel allan made a very moving speech. the same night allan's men were surprised at aukpaque by a british detachment who secured the baggage, provisions, cannon and arms they had in charge. the party had separated and gone to various french houses in the vicinity that they might not crowd one another, otherwise they must inevitably have all been taken. according to delesderniers' story the french did all they could to save allan's men and for recompense had their houses pillaged and burned and some of themselves made prisoners by the english. it was reported that the english soldiers had expressed their determination to follow allan to the gates of hell to take him--they would at least follow to medoctec. all this time pierre tomah was trying to make terms with the british and was much dejected that he could not carry his tribe with him. allan now donned the garb of an indian chief, resolved to wear it to machias. on his arrival at medoctec he was in such a sorry plight that he wrote to his friends "i am at present destitute of everything, i am forced to put up with the fare the indians can provide. i must again implore some help for the indians; i am still suspicious if i leave them they will turn." arrived at the old historic village of medoctec (eight miles below the modern town of woodstock) john allan and his dusky companions did not long hesitate what course to pursue. two indian scouts sent down the river quickly returned with information that the english had given up the chase of west and his party, who fled by way of the oromocto river, and were on their way to medoctec in pursuit of allan. this decided the indians to proceed at once to machias. the exodus was a remarkable one even for so migratory a people as the maliseets. on sunday, july th, a party of about indians--men, women and children--embarked in canoes. the journey to machias occupied three weeks and the party had a sorry time of it. the midsummer heat was excessive, the mosquitoes abundant, provisions scanty and the lowness of the streams greatly retarded the progress of the canoes. at each of the carrying places along the route a lively scene presented itself. "it is incredible," says delesderniers in his diary, "what difficulties the indians undergo in this troublesome time when so many families are obliged to fly with precipitation rather than become friends to the tyrant of britain. some backing their aged parents, others their maimed and decrepid brethern, the old women leading the young children, mothers carrying their infants, together with great loads of baggage. as to the canoes the men make it a play to carry them across." the indians after a time became impatient and desirous to return. they represented to allan that they had abandoned the fertile banks of the st. john, their cornfields and hunting grounds for his sake, and requested that the americans would vigorously exert themselves to take possession of and fortify that river, promising that they would assist in an expedition to gain and hold it or lose their lives in the attempt. allan's enthusiasm over the spirit displayed by the indians and their loyalty to him as their leader was somewhat dampened by their alarming consumption of his provisions and supplies, which he was obliged to dispense with a free hand or run the chance of their leaving him. the account of colonel john allan's operations on the river st. john given in the former part of this chapter may be supplemented by colonel michael francklin's official report to the governor of canada, sir guy carleton, which follows: nova scotia, river st. john, maugerville, d july, . sir,--the continental congress having by their emissarys taken every method to alienate the affection of the savages of this province from his majesty so far prevailed as to induce part of the tribes of this river, passamaquoddie and penobscott to associate last fall with a few banditti from the eastern parts of new england, who together with some of our provincial rebels plundered the peaceable inhabitants of the county of cumberland, seized upon the king's provision vessels, and presumed to invest fort cumberland, but were finally defeated by his majesty's troops under the command of major batt of the royal fencible american regt. since last fall a john allan, late an inhabitant of this province, has been appointed by the general congress agent to the indians, and the beginning of june entered the river with two pieces of cannon and about rebels, who were to be followed by a more considerable body. these rebels were defeated the th of june at the mouth of the river by the king's troops under the command of brigade major studholme, sent by major general massey. the day following i arrived in a civil capacity with about troops and militia from windsor. these rebels in their flight have been obliged to divide, one part passing over our western boundary at about twenty miles from the sea, but allan with the other part have been pursued up this river more than miles and have retired from medoctic by way of penobscott. this last party were joined by ambrose st. auban, an indian chief, and some others whom i could not possibly draw off frown assisting the enemy, without whose aid they must have perished, having lost their little baggage, provisions, cannon and arms by one of our detachments falling on them on the th instant at augpeake, ninety miles up this river. we are friendly with pierre toma, the other indian chief, and part of the savages, and hostilities have not even been committed by us against the others. "i have been particular that you excellency may know our situation. an indian war is of all others the most to be dreaded by this government from the scattered situation of our settlements, and a word from your excellency to the savages of this river, passamaquoddie and penobscott, sent by some of your well affected indian chiefs of the neighborhood of quebec may have a very great weight with them and prevent much ruin and expense. "i have the honor to be, with respect, your excellency's most obedient and most humble servant, mich. francklin." the hint contained in the last paragraph of francklin's letter evidently was not lost upon sir guy carleton, for later on, deputies from the ottawas, hurons, algonquins, and other nations of canada arrived at the river st. john and ordered the micmacs and maliseets to withdraw from the americans and to remain quiet otherwise they would declare war against them. upon receipt of this message, francklin says, the indians almost universally withdrew from machias and remained tranquil to the close of the war. but this is anticipating the course of events. michael francklin, though a native of the south of england, was admirably fitted for the position of superintendent of indian affairs in nova scotia. he was at one time a captive with the indians and had learned their language and customs. he was also conversant with the french tongue and this gave him still greater influence. unfortunately for the settlers at the mouth of the river a garrison was not left there for their protection by francklin and studholme, and as soon as the english ships departed portland and conway were as defenceless as ever. privateers again appeared. the people were robbed and maltreated so that many were compelled to abandon their homes and seek refuge up the river. late in the autumn of this year an american sloop carrying eight guns entered st. john harbor. her captain, who bore the singular name a. greene crabtree, proved the most unwelcome and rapacious visitor that had yet appeared. many of the settlers fled to the woods to escape the vandalism of his crew. from the store at portland point boat loads of goods were taken. the plunder included a lot of silver ornaments, fuzees and other articles left by the indians as pledges for their debts.[ ] [ ] some of the indian pledges were valuable. wm. hazen says that among the articles that escaped the notice of the privateers-men on this occasion were eight silver arm clasps, two of which he afterwards sold for £ . john allan seems to have had doubts as to whether this kind of thing came within the pale of civilized warfare, for in a letter written at machias, november , , he says: "capt. a. greene crabtree arrived here yesterday. he has been to the mouth of the st. john's where he found a truck house erected by the britons under the care of messrs. hazen, white and simonds. he took everything of their property only. also all the indian pledges he has bro't and delivered me, expecting some payment. i cannot say how far this was legal for a privateer, but i am extremely glad it is done." the situation at the mouth of the st. john had now become intolerable; the inhabitants were well nigh beggared and the end of their trials apparently had not yet been reached. william hazen therefore proceeded to windsor and urgently demanded protection. col. small, of the royal highland emigrants, went with him to halifax and by their united efforts the authorities were convinced of the necessity for immediate action. a considerable body of troops was ordered to st. john with directions to either repair fort frederick or to build a new fort as might seem most desirable. general massey's choice of gilfred studholme as commander of the expedition was a wise one. he was not only a brave and capable officer but his former experience as commander of the fort frederick garrison, and his intimate knowledge of the river st. john and its inhabitants--whites and indians--rendered him peculiarly fitted for the task to which he was appointed. we come now to consider the circumstances under which fort howe was built. [illustration: fort howe in ] lieut.-governor arbuthnot wrote to the secretary of state, lord george germaine, on the th october, , that in consequence of frequent attacks on the settlements on the st. john river by the machias rebels he had requested brig.-gen. massey to establish a fortified post at the mouth of that river with a garrison of fifty men; this with the aid of a british frigate he thought would secure the inhabitants from further molestation, and prevent the americans from occupying the post, an object they had long coveted. in the latter part of november, brigade major studholme was sent to st. john with fifty picked men, a framed block-house and four six-pounders. the small force was brought in a sloop of war, which remained in the harbor for their protection till the next spring. studholme at first thought of restoring fort frederick, which the rebels had burned the year before, but in the end it was decided to erect a new fortification on the commanding site since known as fort howe. the lateness of the season rendered it necessary for the garrison to lose no time. they set to work vigorously and with the assistance of the inhabitants erected the blockhouses, threw up the necessary defences, and were in snug winter quarters ere the cold weather set in. the accompanying illustration is taken from a sketch of fort howe in by capt. benjamin marston on board his vessel the "brittania", which was then lying at anchor in the harbor; the original is believed to be the only representation of fort howe before the arrival of the loyalists that is in existence. colonel robert morse of the royal engineers thus describes the fort as he saw it in :-- "this little work was erected in the course of the late war in preference to repairing a small square fort thrown up during the former war [fort frederick] the position of the latter being low and commanded, and not so well situated for the protection of the houses built in the cod of the bay, where two or three persons lived of a company to whom a large tract of land had been granted and who carried on a considerable trade with the indians and persons settled up the river. the ridge upon which the new fort stands was offered by them and a work in which there are eight pieces of cannon, barracks for men, and a small block-house was accordingly erected, together with a larger block-house at the other end of the ridge. the block-houses remain, but the work, which was composed of fascines and sods, is falling down, and the ridge on which it stands is too narrow to admit of any useful works being constructed upon it." the armament of fort howe, according to col. morse, consisted of five and a half inch brass mortars, and iron guns; the latter comprising eighteen-pounders, six-pounders, and four-pounders. in the barracks were twelve rooms for the officers and accommodation for men. the guns of fort howe would be no better than pop-guns in modern warfare. indeed they appear never to have been fired upon an invader. on royal anniversaries and in honor of national victories they thundered forth a salute from their iron throats, and we may believe that on the ever memorable th of may, , they gave a right royal welcome to the loyalist founders of the city of st. john. scarcely had major studholme got his defences in order at fort howe, when the old machias pirate, a. greene crabtree, reappeared upon the scene. he had disposed of his former booty and returned to complete the work of destruction. in order to accomplish his design he landed a party from his eight-gun vessel at manawagonish, and proceeded through the woods intending to surprise the settlement at portland point; but in this case the surprise was his own. the sight of the british flag waving from the ramparts of fort howe was quite sufficient; he showed no inclination to try the mettle of studholme's garrison, and beat a hasty retreat. general massey, who had sent studholme's party to st. john, was of the opinion that a rigorous policy should be set on foot against the privateers, and in a letter to lord germaine laments that arbuthnot did not command the naval squadron. "if he did," he says, "these trifling pirates could not appear on the coast without meeting their deserved fate." in the course of the next summer captain fielding succeeded in destroying six privateers in the space of three weeks time, and this served to render the bay of fundy coast a little more secure. but already much damage had been inflicted. in the township of conway, on the west side of st. john harbor, the settlers had been obliged to abandon their homes. daniel and jonathan leavitt built small houses in carleton near old fort frederick, where they were under the protection of fort howe. messrs. samuel peabody, gervas say, elijah estabrooks, james woodman, thomas jenkins, zebedee ring, john bradley, john jones and peter smith were so harrassed "by the continual robberies of the rebel boats" that they were compelled to move up the river to escape the dangers of their exposed situation. james simonds also decided to change his residence at this time, and in the month of may ( ) he removed his effects and placed them on board a small vessel, lying above the falls, and with his family proceeded sixty miles up the river to a tract of land in the parish of sheffield, which he had purchased of charles morris. the property comprised about , acres, but at the time of mr. simonds' arrival not a single tree had been cut upon it. he built a small log house on the bank of the river just above loder's creek as a shelter for his young and helpless family, and here they were destined to spend the next nine years of their lives. he left to lemuel cleveland the care of his house at portland point, and leased all his lands and buildings at the mouth of the river to major studholme for £ per annum. the presence of the garrison at fort howe did not entirely prevent the machias marauders from interfering with the loyal inhabitants of st. john, and messrs. hazen and white arranged with john curry of campobello to give them warning whenever possible of any danger that might threaten from the direction of machias. john curry was a native of ireland. he came to passamaquoddy about , settled there and was appointed a justice of the peace in . he was a man of intelligence and ability, but apparently had not enjoyed the advantages of a liberal education. he had himself several encounters with the privateers. in his house was plundered while he was absent, and many of his possessions carried off, including the records of the court of general sessions of the peace of passamaquoddy district, which met on the island of campobello. curry was an indian trader and during the revolution received supplies from hazen and white. the following letter is of interest in this connection:-- "campobello, july, . "gentlemen,--things here is much more peasable than i expected: the indians appear very friendly which i think deters others from committing aney depredations in the neighbourhood. have disposed of all the goods i brought home and want the remainder of my goods much, therefore if hutchins and archibald's sloops is got to st. johns beg you would desire them to proceed hear immediately, as i want to dispose of the goods while the weather is calme. * * please send me a cask of flower as bread begins to grow scarce: pray hurrey archibald along and tell him to come in the night least sum thiefe should bee lurking about the harbor." a few months later mr. curry again wrote to his friends to warn them of impending danger: campobello, march , . "gentlemen,--in my last i refur'd you to major studholme for sum inteligeance which was this: there is a small privateer at machias that i expect will sale every day. she is own'd and man'd by a parcle of cumberland refugees who is determined to suply themselves with beef for use of the crue at your expence by privately going to the marsh (at st. john) and killing your cattle. you may look for them every day after you receive this: they are bound up ye bay a plundering. take care of yourselves and pray keep this a profound secret." [illustration: signature of major g. studholme] the comparative security enjoyed by the people living on the river st. john after the erection of fort howe was largely due to the ability and zeal displayed by major gilfred studholme. it is to be regretted that no portrait of this really eminent man is in existence, a fac-simile of his signature is given.[ ] he was a native of ireland where has family owned a considerable estate. on the nd november, , he was commissioned an ensign in the th foot, and embarked at cork for halifax in may following. he was commissioned lieutenant in the th foot november , , and it was as an officer of this regiment he commanded the garrison at fort frederick. he was transferred to the th foot, september , , and temporarily retired from active service july , . when the american revolution broke out he offered his services and was appointed captain in governor legge's "loyal nova scotia volunteers," but was afterwards transferred to the command of a company in the royal fencible american regiment under lieut. col. joseph goreham. he served with credit at fort cumberland, sharing in the spirited attack of major batt, in which the beseigers under eddy were driven off in great disorder and compelled to retire to the river st. john. the next summer studholme drove john allan from the st. john. [ ] the memory of gilfred studholme is preserved in guilford (properly gilfred) street in carleton. for some years charlotte street in st. john was called studholme street. a parish of kings county also bears his name. lieut.-governor arbuthnot wrote lord germaine that the establishment of a fortified post at st. john was a necessity since it was a place coveted by the rebels, who wished to settle the river with people of rebellious principles after removing the inhabitants who were loyal subjects. it was at his request and that of the inhabitants at st. john that general massey sent major studholme with fifty picked men to take post there, and although it was reported that john allan had five hundred men at machias, the general had no apprehension as to studholme's ability to maintain his post. general massey wrote lord germaine on the th of march, , that he continued to hear from major studholme every fortnight--that fort howe was perfectly secure. some weeks later, however, on learning that a large force was assembling at machias, he sent a reinforcement which arrived safely. by the joint efforts of the garrison and of the inhabitants it was not long before fort howe was in a fairly good state of defence, barracks were built, with signal station adjoining, also a blockhouse at the east end of the ridge. these are shown in the illustration below.[ ] [ ] this illustration is made from a water color sketch in the possession of mrs. william hazen--the oldest known picture of saint john. the sketch was taken from a point about the site of the debury residence south of st. luke's church. it dates about the year . small as were the numbers of the indians--perhaps not more than warriors in all acadia--they were capable of devastating remote settlements and of creating general uneasiness and alarm. [illustration: fort howe in ] rumors now began to prevail of an indian uprising. john allan contrived after his flight to machias to keep in touch with the indians of the river st. john and sent emissaries among them, who were very liberal in their promises of rewards, and who assured the savages that their old father the king of france had now joined hands with the americans against the english. michael francklin now began to act with vigor in the capacity of superintendent of indian affairs, and in consequence of his representations lieut. gov'r. hughes sent to the bay of chaleur for the missionary bourg to come and use his influence with the savages. he also wrote a letter to james white, appointing him his deputy on the river st. john:-- "windsor, d july, . "sir,--upon the recommendation of major studholme & from what i know of your zeal to serve government and from your knowledge & acquaintance with the indians of the river st. john and its environs, i do hereby authorize and appoint you to act as my deputy at and in the neighborhood of the said river st. john. you will therefore take under your care the said indians and inform me from time to time of their wants and wishes, and what measures you conceive may at any time be adopted to promote his majesty's interest to the end they may not be led astray by the machinations and devices of his majesty's rebellious subjects or other of the king's enemies. but in all your proceedings you are to consult with and follow the advice of major studholme who will be so obliging as to supply them, at your request, now and then with some provisions, but sparingly & when they shall be in absolute want of them. "i have no salary to give or promise you, but as i have made a strong representation to the king's minister of the necessity of a fund to defray the necessary expenses, if my representation shall be approved you may depend that i shall not fail of providing you with an annual allowance. you will not fail writing me by all opportunities. i am sir, "your most humble servant, "mich. francklin. "james white, esq. a crisis now rapidly developed. john allan prevailed on the indians to return the british flag to fort howe and to send in a declaration of war. the indians even went so far as to take several english vessels and to commit other acts of hostility. chapter xxv. the great indian pow-wow at fort howe, and its consequences. the establishment of fort howe rendered the situation of the people at the mouth of the st. john comparatively secure, but the following summer was a very anxious and trying time to those who lived in the townships up the river. the indians were restless and dissatisfied. they complained bitterly of being left without a missionary, and it was in vain that lieut. gov. arbuthnot and colonel franklin endeavored to keep them in good temper by promising that a missionary would be sent them immediately. most of the settlers in the townships were natives of new england, and the threatened indian uprising was particularly terrifying to them on account of their forefathers' familiarity with the horrors of savage warfare. the indians were supposed to be hostile only to those who were in opposition to american independence, but it was felt that they would not be very nice in their distinctions if they once took the war path, and that the whig might fare little better than the tory. the indians had probably some grievances, but it is evident that the real disturbing influence emanated, as usual, from machias. john allan in his zeal for the conquest of nova scotia was determined to make every use of his indian allies in order, if possible, to drive all english sympathizers from the st. john river. the formal declaration of war sent to major studholme was his composition. it was approved by the maliseets at machias and then forwarded to aukpaque and after approval by the indians there sent to studholme at fort howe. the document read as follows: "to the british commanding officer at the mouth of the river st. john's: "the chiefs, sachems and young men belonging to the river st. john's have duly considered the nature of this great war between america and old england. they are unanimous that america is right and old england is wrong. the river on which you are with your soldiers belongs from the most ancient times to our ancestors, consequently is ours now, and which we are bound to keep for our posterity. you know we are americans and that this is our native country: you know the king of england with his evil councillors has been trying to take away the lands and libertys of our country, but god the king of heaven, our king, fights for us and says america shall be free. it is so now in spite of all old england and his comrades can do. "the great men of old england in this country told us that the americans would not let us enjoy our religion; this is false, not true, for america allows everybody to pray to god as they please; you know old england never would allow that, but says you must all pray like the king and the great men of his court. we believe america now is right, we find all true they told us for our old father the king of france takes their part, he is their friend, he has taken the sword and will defend them. americans is our friends, our brothers and countrymen; what they do we do, what they say we say, for we are all one and the same family. "now as the king of england has no business, nor never had any on this river, we desire you to go away with your men in peace and to take with you all those men who has been fighting and talking against america. if you don't go directly you must take care of yourself your men and all your english subjects on this river, for if any or all of you are killed it is not our faults, for we give you warning time enough to escape. adieu for ever. "machias, august , . "auque pawhaque, august th, . michael francklin was able at this critical moment effectually to check-mate the designs of john allan. during the previous winter an express messenger had been sent to sir guy carleton at quebec to get permission for father bourg, the french missionary, to reside among the indians of the river st. john. in his reply, dated february rd, , governor carleton wrote that the missionary had orders to repair to halifax in order to receive instructions for the establishment of his mission. just as francklin and the missionary were about to leave halifax they received information "that the malecetes had plundered an english vessel, taken and ransomed another, robbed and disarmed many of the inhabitants and killed several cattle belonging to the king's loyal subjects on the river st. john, whom they had stiled torys, and that they had even proceeded the length to return to fort howe the king's flag, accompanied with a formal declaration of war in writing." the services of james white at this time were invaluable. as early as the nd of april and at various times during the summer he went among the indians to pacify them at great personal risk, always returning unharmed. this was due to the confidence placed in him by the majority of the savages, who had long known him in the capacity of an indian trader. mr. white went up the river to meet the indian war party. he found among them many of the penobscots and passamaquoddies under nicholas hawawes, a noted chief. they had been instructed by allan to return the colors sent the previous year by major studholme, to ravage the country in the vicinity of fort howe, to take prisoners and encourage the soldiers of the garrison to desert. allan wrote the massachusetts congress, "i earnestly and sincerely wish i had a hundred or two good troops at this juncture to go in boats along the shore to act in concert with the indians." our early historian, moses h. perley, says that james white, unarmed and without any escort, met the war party at the head of "long reach" as they were coming down the river in ninety canoes. he had a long conference with the chiefs, of whom the majority were disposed to be hostile; but pierre tomah, the head chief, said that before giving a final answer he must consult the divine being and throwing himself upon his face in the sand lay motionless for the space of nearly an hour. then rising he informed the other chiefs that he had been counselled by the great spirit to keep peace with king george's men. this decision was not acceptable to several of the chiefs, and mr. white was still engaged in his negotiations when colonel francklin and father bourg arrived at st. john, having crossed from annapolis in the war ship "scarborough." messengers were immediately sent up the river to mr. white desiring him to come down at once with pierre tomah and the other chiefs and captains to meet col. francklin and the missionary bourg, assuring them of a friendly reception. francklin also wrote a letter to the indians, which is here given. "fort howe, sep. . "to pierre thomas and others the indians of the river st. john. "brethren:--according to my promise last fall i have brought with me mr. bourg, your priest, to instruct you and to take care of your eternal welfare. "brethren:--i am come to heal and adjust every difference that may exist between you and your brethren the faithful subjects of king george your father, my master. "brethren:--as my heart is good, my hands clean and my intentions as white as snow; i desire pierre thomas and two or three other principal indians do immediately come down to fort howe with mr. white my deputy to speak to me and to mr. bourg that we may settle in what manner to proceed to accomplish my good intentions towards you, and that your minds may be made easy i do hereby pledge myself that no harm shall happen to you from any of the king's troops or others his majesty's subjects. "i am your affectionate brother, mich. francklin, "superintendent of indian affairs." the indians promptly accepted the invitation and a conference was held which francklin terms "a grand meeting of the indians at menaguashe in the harbour of the river st. john near fort howe on thursday, the th september, ." there were present on the part of king george the third:-- michael francklin, superintendent of indian affairs; major studholme, commanding the garrison at fort howe; capt. mowatt, commanding his majesty's ship albany; rev. mr. bourg, missionary to the indians; james white, agent for indian affairs at st. john, and several other officers and gentlemen. the indian delegates included pierre tomah, supreme sachem or chief of st. john river; francis xavier, nd chief; and four captains and eight principal indians, representing the maliseets of the st. john. there were also present delegates of the micmacs of richibucto, miramichi, chignecto and minas. col. francklin informed the indians that according to his promise he had brought them a priest and it was his desire to settle and adjust amicably all differences between the indians and his majesty's subjects. the proceedings of the conference are detailed at length in francklin's report to the governor of nova scotia. the indians after listening to the addresses of francklin and monsieur bourg declared that they had been deceived by john allan of machias who had not spoken their sentiments but his own; they acknowledged their offences and offered to restore to the white inhabitants the arms and other articles in their possession (not consumed or destroyed) which they had taken, and promised that they would deliver to james white in the course of the winter, two hundred pounds of beaver, or as many moose skins, in lieu thereof, towards making good the damage sustained by individuals. they added that they were poor and had been kept from hunting by the idle stories of john allan and his friends. michael francklin did not lose the opportunity to give allan "a rowland for his oliver." as allan had been the author of the indian declaration of war so would francklin now dictate the message of reply. this message was couched in the following terms:-- "to john allan and his associates at machias: "the chiefs and great men of the malecete and mickmack indians hereby give thee notice:-- "that their eyes are now open and they see clearly that thou hast endeavored to blind them to serve thy wicked purposes against thy lawful sovereign king george, our forgiving and affectionate father. "we have this day settled all misunderstanding that thou didst occasion between us and king george's men. "we now desire that thee and preble, and thy comrades will remain in your wigwams at machias and not come to passamaquadie to beguile and disturb our weak and young brethren. we will have nothing to do with thee or them or with your storys, for we have found you out; and if you persist in tempting us we warn you to take care of yourselves. we shall not come to machias to do you harm, but beware of passamaquodie for we forbid you to come there. "at menaguashe, the th september, . [signed] pierre thomas x, francis xavier x, chiefs of the malecetes and in their behalf. jean baptiste arimph x, chief of richibouctou and in behalf of the mickmacks. during the conference father bourg produced a letter he had lately received from the bishop of quebec instructing him not to suffer any indian to enter his church who should molest the white settlers or take part in the rebellion against the constituted authorities of nova scotia, and directing him to forward a list of the names of any indians who should disobey his orders to quebec that he might "cast them out of the church as disobedient and undutifull children." the indians were not long in deciding to make terms with the british and in signifying their willingness to take the oath of allegiance to the king. accordingly the chiefs and captains and other delegates on their knees took a solemn oath in which they pledged themselves to bear faithful and true allegiance to his majesty king george the third. they also promised to give information to the king's officers and magistrates of any hostile designs of the enemy that should come to their knowledge; to protect the persons of michael francklin and joseph mathurin bourg, their missionary, from insult, outrage or captivity; not to take any part directly or indirectly against the king in the troubles then existing, but to follow their hunting and fishing in a peaceable and quiet manner; not to go to machias or hold any communication with the people of that neighborhood or other rebellious subjects of his majesty. having taken the oath in behalf of themselves and their several tribes the indians delivered to col. francklin a string of wampum as a solemn confirmation of their act and deed. they also delivered the presents sent them by washington together with the treaty they had made with the massachusetts government on july , , in which they had promised to furnish warriors for the service of the united states congress. although the indians, by the treaty they had just signed, ostensibly settled all the differences between themselves and "king george's men," there were still certain functions dear to the savage heart to be performed before the grand pow-wow was ended. the oath of allegiance having been taken and the treaty duly signed, all the chiefs and captains united with the english delegates in drinking the king's health, and colonel francklin decorated the chiefs and captains with his own hands and distributed to the other indians a variety of clothing and presents. after this, we are informed, "the night, altho' rainy, was spent in the open air with great mirth under the british flag." the next day the indians went on board the albany man-of-war, where they again very cheerfully drank the king's good health, and were presented with a pound of gunpowder each. they concluded the afternoon and evening on shore "with great satisfaction and good humor." colonel francklin concludes his official report of the proceedings as follows:-- "the th september the indians, being on their departure, were saluted at o'clock by the cannon of fort howe and his majesty's ship albany, and it was returned by three huzzas and an indian whoop. then the micmac chief made a handsome speech and delivered to the superintendent [francklin] a string of wampum on behalf of the whole micmac nation, as their seal of approbation and agreement to everything that had been transacted. this being finished, the superintendent, major studholme and rev. mr. bourg, were desired to seat themselves, when a malecete captain began a song and dance in honor and praise of the conference and those concerned therein. on his finishing, a micmac captain began another song and dance to the same purpose. the superintendent then, with major studholme and the rev. mr. bourg and the other gentlemen, marched off with the indians to the portage above the falls of the river st. john and stayed there until mr. bourg and the indians embarked, when the gentlemen on the landing were saluted by the musquetry from the indian canoes." during the continuance of the conference the indians received every attention on the part of francklin, studholme and the white inhabitants. francklin kept a table for their entertainment which cost him £ , and the value of the presents and supplies furnished on the occasion amounted to £ more. the goods required were mostly obtained from the store at portland point and the account rendered to francklin by william hazen is yet in existence. it contains some curious and interesting items. the presents for the indians included blankets, hats, ribbons, gold and silver lace, intermixed with axes, pots, kettles, knives and tobacco. among the more expensive presents were " large silver plated cross with the figure of our saviour on it, £ ," and " small gold plated cross with the figure of our saviour on it. £ ." the heading of the account reads: "the hon'ble michael francklin esq'r., superintendent of indians, to wm. hazen dr. for sundrys paid and supplies furnished by his order for the use of the indians assembled at menaguashe, near fort howe, from the th september to th october, ." some of the expenditures were evidently dictated by motives of policy; see for example the following:-- "paid dr. sharman, surgeon at fort howe, for attendance and medicines to pierre thoma and four other sick indians, £ . "pd. acmobish for beaver traps stolen last year by the soldiers, £ . "pd. charles nocout ten dollars to make up for an englishman's beating of him. "to sundrys delivered to aged and infirm people, viz. magdalen katpat, magdalen la porte, marie barishe & others, £ ." quite a number of the white settlers and several acadians were engaged by francklin in various capacities while the negotiations with the indians were in progress. gervas say and capt. quinton received £ for going to aukpaque and attending the indians coming down to fort howe. daniel leavitt, lewis mitchel, john hartt, louis goodine, augustin leblanc and messrs. peabody and brawn acted as couriers, express messengers and negotiators under direction of francklin, studholme and james white. the general result of the grand pow-wow was considered exceedingly fortunate for the province of nova scotia under the circumstances then existing. sir richard hughes, the lieutenant-governor, writing to lord germaine, expresses his great satisfaction at the result of the conference and praises the talents, zeal and diligence of francklin "to whose discreet conduct and steady perseverance," he says, "assisted by major studholme and m. bourg, the priest, we owe the success of this treaty." francklin, on his part, seems disposed to award the meed of praise to studholme and writes sir henry clinton: "in justice to major studholme, commanding at fort howe, i am obliged to say that his constant zeal and singular address and prudence has been a great means of keeping the indians near his post quiet." but while both francklin and studholme are deservedly entitled to credit for the success of their negotiations, there is not the least doubt that the man to whom even greater credit is due is james white, the deputy agent of indian affairs at the river st. john. mr. white, although acting in a subordinate capacity, was in direct contact with the savages at the time they were most unfriendly, and it was his tact and fearlessness that paved the way for the subsequent negotiations. for six months he devoted his time and energies to the task of conciliating the indians, receiving from government the modern sum of one dollar for each day he was so employed.[ ] most potent of all perhaps in the ultimate result of the conference, was the presence of the french missionary bourg. it was this that inspired the indians with confidence in the good intentions of the government of nova scotia, and when the missionary accompanied them on their return to aukpaque their satisfaction was unbounded. [ ] in col. franklin's memorandum of expenses incurred in negotiating the indian treaty the following item appears: "to cash pd. to james white, esq'r, for services among and with the indians from the d. april, , to the th october inclusive, part of which time he ran great risques both of his life & being carried off prisoner, £ . . . the indians of the river st. john still possess a traditionary knowledge of the treaty made at fort howe in september, , and refer to it as the time when the indian and the englishman became "all one brother." some of the indians claim that when the treaty was made it was understood that an indian should always have the right to wander unmolested through the forest and to take the bark of the birch tree for his canoe or the splints of the ash tree for his basket-making regardless of the rights of the white owner of the soil. in many parts of the province there is an unwritten law to this effect, and the indian roams at pleasure through the woods in quest of the materials for his simple avocations and pitches his tent without let or hindrance. in order to cultivate friendly relations with the indians and to guard against the insidious attempts of the people of machias to wean them from their allegiance it was decided to establish a trading house for their accommodation at the landing place above the falls at the mouth of the st. john. this locality still bears the name of indiantown, a name derived from the indian trading post established there in . in old plans main street, portland, is called "road to ye indian house." on the th of december, , colonel francklin sent instructions to james white to proceed with the building of the indian house which was to cost only £ . he says in his letter, "the ground should be very well cleared all about or the brush will sooner or later most assuredly burn it. the boards required may be sawed from the spruces on the spot if you have a whip-saw. the shingles can be made by any new england man in the neighborhood." the house was built in the course of the next few months by james woodman, who was by trade a shipwright. for some reason the sum of £ voted by the council of nova scotia for the erection of the building was never paid, and it remained the property of hazen, simonds and white. the three partners not long afterwards cleared a road to the indian house, the course of which was nearly identical with that of the present "main street." they also built a wharf at the landing and a small dwelling house which was occupied by one andrew lloyd, who has the distinction of being the first settler at indiantown. not many weeks after the signing of the treaty at fort howe, col. john allan of machias sent lieut. gilman and a band of penobscot indians to make a demonstration at the river st. john. they captured a small vessel about sixty miles up the river and plundered one or two of the inhabitants but the only result was to create an alarm amongst the settlers without producing any effect upon the indians. pierre tomah and most of his tribe were at this time encamped at indian point on the north side of grand lake. to offset the influence of father bourg, col. john allan induced the american congress to obtain a missionary for the indians at machias and passamaquoddy and he hoped by this means to seduce the indians remaining on the st. john from their allegiance and draw them to machias. never in their history did the maliseets receive such attention as in the revolutionary war, when they may be said to have lived at the joint expense of the contending parties. the peace of proved a dismal thing indeed to them. their friendship became a matter of comparative indifference and the supplies from either party ceased while the immense influx of new settlers drove them from their old hunting grounds and obliged them to look for situations more remote. after the alliance formed between france and the old english colonies in america was known to the indians of acadia, francklin's task of keeping them in hand became more difficult and as regards those on the river st. john he might have failed but for the powerful influence of the abbe joseph mathurin bourg. the indians resisted every temptation held out to them by the americans during the year , and welcomed colonel francklin and the missionary bourg in their principal villages with great rejoicing. major studholme's post at fort howe was rendered more secure at this time by the capture of castine, at the mouth of the penobscot river. the place was then known by its indian name of megabagaduce. had there been a little more energy and foresight on the part of admiral collier, machias would have shared the same fate, and the result might have been greatly to the advantage of the maritime provinces today. the importance of such a move was self-evident. it was seriously discussed both in england and america, and a plan was very nearly adopted that might have altered the map of america to the advantage of the canadian dominion. this plan was nothing less than to divide the colony of maine, giving to that part extending from saco to the river st. croix the name of new ireland and settling it with loyalists who had been driven from the other colonies in rebellion. the project is believed to have been countenanced by the king and the ministry, but eventually it was abandoned in consequence of the opinion of wedderburne, the english attorney-general, that the whole of maine was included in the colony of massachusetts and that the charter of that colony should be respected. there is extant a very interesting letter, written at new york in by the rev. wm. walter to his friend, the rev. jacob bailey, then in nova scotia, which shows that the project was seriously discussed in america as well as in england. mr. walter writes: "if you have not already heard it permit me to acquaint you that there is a plan in considerable forwardness to erect the province of maine into a province by itself, to extend from saco to st. johns river, making falmouth [now portland] the capital;[ ] to secure this new province by strong forts and garrisons; to invite the refugees from the other provinces in rebellion to settle in this, and by liberality of its constitution to show to the other provinces the great advantages of being a portion of the empire and living under the protection of british government. sir william pepperrell is talked of as governor. the large tracts of land belonging to companies and individuals, which are not forfeited, will be purchased and the whole distributed in farms of acres to every settler. these distributions and appointments are to be in the management and recommendaton of a respectable board of refugees [loyalists] which is now forming under the auspices of government in this city [new york]." [ ] lorenso sabine in his loyalists of the american revolution credits william knox, of georgia, with proposing the formation of the eastern part of maine into the province of "new ireland," with thomas oliver for governor and daniel leonard as chief-justice. it is a curious fact that a little after the close of the revolutionary war an attempt was made of a very different character to erect this territory into the "free and independent state of new ireland." a constitution and frame of government were prepared by a committee for the consideration of a convention of delegates. in the preamble of their report the loyalists are termed "the sons of slavery and dregs of the human species in america." the committee evidently entered upon their work of constitution making with great gusto as will appear from the following: "agreeable to the trust reposed in us by the good people of new ireland, we, anticipating the glorious morning of american freedom, which will shortly shine upon them with a lustre superior to any other spot on the terraqueous globe, after consluting with the sagest politicians of the age, and carefully examining the several frames of government already erected in this new empire, and particularly all the advantages which divine revelation affords; have drawn up the following frame of government for new ireland, which, from the knowledge we have of the dispositions of our constituents we have ground to believe will be very acceptable to them, and calculated to render them and their posterity the happiest people on the earth." among the provisions of the constitution were several that may be mentioned for their oddity. not only were all tavern keepers debarred from holding office "lest spirituous liquors should influence the choice," but the legal fraternity were viewed with suspicion and it was ordained that "practising lawyers or attornies shall not be eligible for any office of profit or trust in the state whilst they continue such." in order still further to keep the morals of the people pure and uncorrupted, and for the encouragement of piety and virtue and the suppression of vice and immorality, it was provided that "no stage plays, horse-racing, cock-fighting, balls and assemblies, profane swearing and cursing, sabbath-breaking, drunkenness, nocturnal revelling, whoredom, cards, dice, and all other games whatsoever, commonly called games of chance (lotteries ordered by the legislature to raise money for public uses excepted) shall be permitted." the would-be founders of new ireland close their report by expressing their hope that europeans, panting after the sweets of liberty and independence will flock thither. "here," say they, "are no griping and racking landlords to oppress you; no avaricious priests to extort from you the tenth of all your increase and labors and whom you must pay for the liberty to come into the world, of being married, of having children and likewise of leaving the world. * * * send here the frugal and industrious; no half gentlemen with long pedigrees from nimrod and cain, nor any who expect to make their fortunes by any other methods than the plain beaten paths of honest industry, for idle indolent people, unwilling to work, ought not to eat but to live in all places miserable." but to return from this digression; it is clear that if the british forces had routed john allan and his indians out of machias in , as they might easily have done if a serious effort had been made, the american congress would then have had no foothold east of saco, so that portland and all the coast to the st. croix would have been, at the close of the war, as firmly in the possession of the english as any part of nova scotia. the american writer kidder, in his interesting account of the military operations in eastern maine and nova scotia during the revolution, says: "it is now generally conceded that our present boundary was fixed mainly on the ground of occupation, and had we not been able to hold our eastern outpost at machias, we cannot say what river in maine would now divide us from a british province." chapter xxvi. white chiefs and indian chiefs. in the year many of the indians at machias and passamaquoddy began to waver in their adherence to the americans and to imagine they would fare better by withdrawing from john allan and returning to their old haunts on the river st. john. allan wrote in the autumn of this year, "the unsteady conduct of the indians has obliged me to use every means to prevent their going to st. johns. i have not met with such difficulty previous to this summer." he managed to keep them a little longer, but in july of the next year came the great defection which had been so long impending. the immediate cause of this defection it will be of interest now to consider. sir guy carleton, not long after his appointment to the command at quebec, secured the allegiance of the principal indian tribes of canada, and at his instigation messages were sent to machias early in april , desiring the indians there to have no further connection with the americans, adding that the indians of canada were coming across the woods, as soon as the leaves were as big as their nails, to destroy the settlements on the penobscot and the kennebec. in order to impress the indians with the importance of the message the delegates who bore it were furnished with an immense belt of wampum of pieces. "we send you this great belt," say the canadian indians, "for every one of you to see and think of, and to show it to the st. johns and micmac indians, and then to return the belt to us immediately." the message contained a further assurance that nine thousand indians were ready to execute any orders they might receive from the british general in canada. the arrival of this message made a great impression on the indians, and occasioned in them "a fluctuating and unsteady conduct," but john allan was able, with the help of mon. de la motte, a french priest, to keep them in control. curiously enough at this crisis the old st. john river chieftain, pierre thoma, arrived at machias in quite an indignant frame of mind. his annoyance was caused by general mclean's ordering major studholme not to furnish any more provisions to the indians. francklin considered this order a mistake, and at once represented to the secretary of state the necessity of keeping the indians in good humor as the cutting of masts and timber for the royal navy, the safety of the english settlers on the river st. john and communication with canada might all be endangered by losing their good will. his statements were strongly supported by sir richard hughes, the lieutenant-governor of nova scotia. the next spring col. francklin invited the indians at passamaquody and machias to a conference at fort howe. two english schooners arrived at passamaquody on the st of june. john allen at once issued an order to the indians not to hold any intercourse with unwelcome visitors, but, he adds, "pierre tomma the chief of st. john, always considered a tory, and lewis neptune of penobscot went on board and received presents." they were told that col. franklin and father bourg were at fort howe with presents and supplies and desired a conference with them. soon after three special messengers arrived from father bourg desiring the indians to attend him immediately on business of the church. the result of these invitations we shall presently see, but in the meantime an important conference was being held at the river st. john. there are many references to this conference but we shall first consider a letter which col. franklin wrote from windsor to sir henry clinton, st august, . in this letter franklin states, "a meeting was held the th june about ninety miles above fort howe attended by upwards of indians. deputies from the ottawas, hurons, algonkins, montanagais, abenakies and canabas attended and made the speech inclosed." this speech was addressed to the malecete, passamaquoddie and mickmack indians and was in substance as follows: "our dear brothers, we come to warn you that the boston people, having destroyed several of our villages, killed our wives and children and carried off our young women by force, we to revenge ourselves for these outrages have declared war against them. if there are yet remaining among them [i. e. the americans] any of your people, let them withdraw immediately, for they will be treated like the enemy if they remain with them. therefore our dear brothers we tell you to remain quiet and in peace. we have , men assembled, who are allied against the boston people and they have already taken twenty-seven villages larger than three rivers in canada, and to burn their villages they sent more than lighted arrows which instantly destroyed their houses, great part of the inhabitants were burnt and those who attempted to escape were put to death. now we demand your answer." the micmacs and maliseets presented belts of wampum and replied that so long as the king of england should continue to leave them free liberty of hunting and fishing and to allow them priests sufficient for the exercise of their religion they promised to keep quiet and peaceable. this grand indian pow-wow seems to have been brought about largely by franklin's diplomacy. he was not himself present at the meeting but the interests of the english were well looked after by major studholme, james white and the missionary bourg. the conference with the visiting delegates was held at aukpaque and warriors were present besides women and children. a considerable quantity of presents and supplies had been sent from windsor to fort howe by the schooner menaguash, peter doucet, master, to be given to the indians--blankets, shirts, blue and scarlet cloth, beaver bats, ribbons, powder and shot, and lastly, "one cask of wine sent by mr. francklin for the squaws and such men as do not drink rum."[ ] [ ] the receipt of these articles at the hands of james white was acknowledged at aukpaque, june , , by francis xavier, and five other chiefs. the arrival of the messengers sent by studholme to the indians of machias and passamaquody, assuring them that if they would give their attendance at fort howe they would be well treated and receive handsome presents, made them extremely anxious to at least have a look at the presents; at the same time urgent invitations from father bourg gave them a good excuse for going. for two days john allan exercised all his powers of persuasion to keep them, but in vain; go they would. they assured him "that they only meant to see the priest, their souls being heavy and loaded with burthens of sins, and that they acted upon a duty commanded in their church which they could not neglect." on the rd july nearly all the indians, some women and children excepted, set out for fort howe. in a letter to the massachusetts congress allan mournfully observes: "i am very unhappy in being obliged to acquaint you of this, after the success i have experienced in disappointing the priest and mr. francklin these three years." the substantial results of francklin's policy of conciliation were the inducing of the indians who had acted with enemy to return to their former villages and live peaceably there, second the opening of a safe route of communication via the st. john river with quebec and thirdly protection of the king's mast cutters. colonel francklin wrote to lord germaine on the st november, , that the disposition of the indians during the summer and autumn had been very tranquil and he attributed the fact largely to the conference held on the river st. john on the th of june, when the deputies of the ottawas, hurons and other nations of canada required the micmacs and malissets to withdraw from the americans and to remain quiet. the situation of gilfred studholme, as commandant at fort howe, was at times a difficult and uncomfortable one. his garrison was none too large at the best, and, although the majority of his soldiers displayed remarkable fidelity, there were occasional desertions. john allan naturally used every means in his power to render the post untenable. in august, , he sent nicholas hawawes, an indian chief, with a small party to the mouth of the st. john with orders to destroy the cattle around the fort, that were intended for the use of the troops[ ], to take prisoners and encourage desertion. the indians were provided with letters, written by deserters who had already come to machias, which they were instructed to convey secretly to the soldiers of the garrison. [ ] the requirements of the garrison insured a ready market for all the beef hazen, simonds & white and their tenants could furnish, indeed at times it was necessary to send to the settlements up the river for a supply. when the garrison was first fixed at fort howe, james white made a trip to maugerville and purchased nine yoke of oxen for their use from asa perley, thomas barker, daniel jewett, henry miller, john esty, nathan smith, david dow, peter mooers and richard barlow. the agreement in each case was similar to the following: "maugerville, november , . "i promise to deliver to mr. james white, or his order, two oxen coming five years old, when the ice is strong sufficient to bear them to drive to the mouth of this river, said white paying me on delivery fifty-five dollars. witness my hand-- "asa perley." studholme was compelled to take stern and it may even seem terrible measures to repress desertion, as will be seen in the following note which he addressed to james white: "sir,--i shall esteem it as a favor if you will endeavour to get some indians to bring in the three deserters, for each of which i will give ten guineas. should the soldiers make any opposition the indians are to make use of force, and if compelled to kill them, they are to bring in their heads, for each of which they will receive ten guineas. "i am, sir, "your most obedient servant, "g. studholme." among the important services which major studholme was able to accomplish while at fort howe should be mentioned the establishment of excellent communication between halifax and quebec by way of the st. john river. this had been the customary route of travel between acadia and canada during the final conflict between england and france for supremacy in north america (a. d. - ) and was well known to the french and their indian allies; it now proved of equal service to the english. in order to facilitate communication with quebec, and at the same time to afford protection to the settlements on the st. john, a block house was built at the mouth of the oromocto river and a few soldiers stationed there under command of lieut. constant connor. the post was named fort hughes in honor of sir richard hughes, the lieutenant governor of nova scotia. a number of log huts, or post-houses were built, at intervals of about a day's journey, from the block house at oromocto to the st. lawrence. over this route important messages were carried between the civil and military authorities of halifax and quebec, and sometimes dispatches were sent from the commander-in-chief of the forces at new york to sir guy carleton and sir frederick haldimand at quebec. indians were occasionally employed to carry the messages, but greater confidence was placed in the acadians. the most famous couriers probably were louis mitchel and the brothers louis and michel mercure. the couriers were aware of the value of their services, and they demanded, and generally received, one hundred dollars for each trip from fort howe to quebec. this was regarded as extravagant by major studholme and general haldimand, but they could do no better. they dared not trust the indians with important dispatches, and when the acadian couriers were not available messages were usually carried by officers accompanied by indians as guides. the route via the river st. john was used both in summer and winter. it is said that when the water was high the indians were able to deliver letters from quebec to the french commander at the mouth of the st. john in four or five days, a distance of miles. this statement is made by john allan and there is nothing impossible about it. the messrs. straton of fredericton, some years since, paddled in a bark canoe from the grand falls to fredericton, miles, in hours minutes, making a short stop at woodstock on the way. short distances have been covered at much greater rates of speed. the acadian couriers were usually a fortnight going from oromocto to quebec in the summer and about double that time in the winter. like others of their race the indians of the st. john were fleet of foot and possessed of great endurance, qualities that are by no means wanting in their descendants. some forty years ago a maliseet indian, named peter loler, gave a remarkable exhibition of speed and endurance, which is still talked of by the older residents of woodstock. the circumstances, briefly stated, were these. one pleasant summer morning loler presented himself to the driver of the old four-in-hand stage coach which was just about leaving the hotel at fredericton for woodstock, the distance being rather more than sixty miles. the indian desired a passage and offered the customary fare. the driver on the occasion was john turner, one of the most accomplished whips of the old stage coaching days, and popular with all travellers. as the stage coach was pretty full and the day promised to be very warm turner, after a brief consultation with the passengers, declined the indian's money and upon loler's remonstrating, told him in plain saxon that the other passengers didn't like the smell of him, that his room was better than his company. this angered peter and he said, "all right, john! me be in woodstock first!" at o'clock, a. m., indian and stage coach left fredericton together, and together they proceeded and in spite of turner's endeavor to throw dust in the indian's face the latter was always a little in advance. he stopped at every place the stage stopped to change horses (this occurred four or five times on the route) and took his dinner with all the solemnity of his race in the kitchen of the "half-way house" where the passengers dined. as they drew near their destination the indian's savage nature seemed to assert itself; he ran like a deer, waving his cap at intervals as he passed the farm houses, and shouting defiantly. turner now began to ply the whip, for he had no intention of allowing the red-skin to beat him out. the passengers began to wager their money on the result of the race and grew wild with excitement. the indian village, three miles below woodstock, was passed with loler fifty yards in advance, but the village was not peter's destination that day. he saluted it with a war-whoop and hurried on. it was still early in the afternoon when the quiet citizens of woodstock were aroused in a manner entirely unexpected. the stage coach came tearing into town at the heels of an indian who was yelling like a demon and running as for his life, john turner plying the whip in lively fashion, and four very hot and tired horses galloping at their utmost speed. the finish was a close one, but the indian was ahead. as soon as he had regained his breath sufficiently to speak, loler walked over to where turner was standing and philosophically remarked, "john! me here first!" turner's answer is not recorded. our story should end here, but alas for poor human nature, it remains to be told that the indian was soon surrounded by a crowd of friendly admirers, and before the close of the day was gloriously--or shall we say ingloriously--drunk. from the year onward the cutting of masts for the navy became an industry of growing importance on the river st. john and col. francklin's efforts were largely directed to the protection of the workmen so employed from being molested by the indians. the consideration of the "masting" industry will be taken up in the next chapter. michael francklin died nov. , , deeply lamented by all classes of society. his last general conference with the maliseets was at oromocto in the month of november, , when he distributed presents to nearly four hundred indians who had assembled there. on this occasion he settled amicably some jealousies that had arisen about the election of chiefs. he tells us that the indians were eager to go to the defence of the block house on the occasion of a recent alarm, that they were grateful for the continuance of their missionary bourg and were resolved to again plant corn on the river. at the close of the conference they quietly dispersed to their hunting. in spite of the interference of war the traffic in furs with the indians was still very considerable, and about this time hazen and white sent a consignment to halifax in the ship recovery, to be shipped to england for sale, which included moose skins, caribou, deer, musquash, otter, mink, sable, fishers, wolverene, "lucervers," red fox, cross fox, bear. michael francklin continued to the last to cultivate the friendship of pierre thoma the old maliseet chieftain whose descendants, it may be observed, are numerous at the present day. the name of this well known indian family (variously spelled thoma, toma, tomah, tomer) is clearly of french origin, and was originally thomas, which pronounced in french fashion sounds like tomah. the name pierre thoma was very common among both the micmacs and the maliseets, so common indeed as to make it difficult to distinguish between individuals. a few observations will enable the reader to see what splendid opportunities there are for confusion with regard to those indians who bore the name of pierre thoma. in the month of august, , the lieut.-governor of new brunswick, sir howard douglas, visited the historic indian village of medoctec, where he was introduced to an indian name pierre thoma (or toma pierre) aged years. the old warrior, who had lost an eye and an arm in the battle of the heights of abraham in , was carefully provided for by the kindly hearted governor. our first conclusion naturally would be--this is the old chieftain of revolutionary days. but further investigation shows such a conclusion to be very improbable. if old tomah, who greeted sir howard douglas, were years old in , he must have been born in , and in that case (supposing him to have been francklin's old ally) he would have filled the office of supreme sachem or head chief of the st. john river when about thirty years of age, which is very unlikely. but this is not all. in the sworn testimony submitted to the commissioners on the international boundary in , john curry, esq., of charlotte county says that when he came to the country in there was an indian place of worship and a burial ground on st. andrew's point at the mouth of the river st. croix, and that among those whom he recollected to have been buried there were john neptune (alias bungawarrawit), governor of the passamaquoddy tribe, and a "chief of the saint john's tribe known by the name of pierre toma." there can be little doubt that the latter was our old chief thoma. his wife was one of the neptune family whose home was at passamaquoddy. the burial ground at st. andrew's point was abandoned by the indians when the loyalists settled at st. andrews in . we may therefore conclude that pierre thoma did not long survive his old friend and patron michael francklin. their acquaintance began as early at least as the summer of , when governor thoma and ambroise st. aubin had an interview with lieut.-governor francklin and his council at halifax. at that time the chiefs made a favorable impression. they requested that their missionary bailly, lately arrived might remain with them, complained that rum was much too common for the good of their people, desired lands for cultivation and that their hunting grounds should be reserved to them. having completed their business they stated "we have nothing further to ask or represent, and we desire to return soon, that our people may not be debauched with liquor in this town." the previous summer ( th august, ) rev. thomas wood officiated at a notable wedding at halifax the contracting parties being a young indian captain named pierre jacques and marie joseph, the oldest daughter of "old king thoma." an english baronet, sir thos. rich, and other distinguished guests were present on the occasion. however this thoma was not our old maliseet chief, for mr. wood observes of him, "old king thoma looks upon himself as hereditary king of the mickmacks." moreover the date is too nearly coincident with an interesting event at aukpaque in which pierre thoma was concerned. the event was a christening at the indian chapel the particulars concerning which we find in the old church register. the abbe bailly on two consecutive days baptized thirty-one indian children, viz., sixteen boys on august th and fifteen girls on august th. among the boys we find a son of ambroise st. aubin and anne, his wife, who received the name of thomas and had as sponsors pierre thoma, chief, and his wife marie mectilde. the following day the compliment was returned and ambroise and his wife stood as sponsors at the christening of marie, the daughter of pierre thoma. the next year (june , ) there was a double wedding in the family of governor thoma at which the abbe bailly officiated and which no doubt was the occasion of great festivity at the indian village. the old chief's son pierre thoma, jr, wedded an indian maiden named marie joseph, and his daughter marie belanger married pierre kesit. the younger pierre thoma was most probably his father's successor as chief of the maliseets. at any rate when frederick dibblee[ ] made a return of the native indians settled at meductic in he includes in his list governor thoma, his wife and four children. the indians were always migratory and two years later we find governor thoma living at the mouth of the becaguimec and tilling his cornfield since become the site of the town of hartland. this governor thoma, may be the same referred to in the following paragraph in the courier of january , :[ ] "friday last, being new years day, a large body of the milicete tribe of indians including a considerable number of well dressed squaws, headed by their old-old-chief thoma, appeared at government house to pay their annual compliments to the representative of their sovereign, and were received by his excellency with great kindness. his excellency availed himself of the occasion publicly to decorate the worthy old chief with a splendid silver medallion suspended by a blue ribbon, exhibiting a beautiful effigy of our gracious sovereign on one side, with the royal arms on the reverse." [ ] frederick dibblee was a loyalist, a graduate of columbia college (n.y.); afterwards rector of woodstock, n. b. he went to medoctec as a lay missionary teacher to the indians under an arrangement with an english society for the propagation of the gospel amongst the indians. there were at medoctec in about seventy indian families including men, women, children; total, souls. [ ] the author is indebted for the above extract to the kindness of mr. ward. many of the thoma family were remarkable for their longevity. when the writer of this history was a boy there lived at the indian village, three miles below the town of woodstock, a very intelligent and industrious indian, whose bent, spare figure was a familiar object to travellers along the country roads. it would be hard to count the number of baskets and moccasins the old man carried on his back to town for sale. he was born at medoctec in and died at woodstock not long ago at the age of nearly one hundred years. the old fellow was famous for his knowledge of herbs, which he was wont to administer to the indians in case of sickness; indeed it was not an uncommon thing for the white people to consult "doctor tomer" as to their ailments. in the year "tomer" came to pay a friendly visit to charles raymond, the author's grandfather, who was then in his th year and confined to his room with what proved to be his first and last illness. the pleasure of meeting seemed to be mutual. the two had known one another for many years and were accustomed from time to time to compare ages. "tomer" was always one year younger, showing that the old indian kept his notch-stick well. he is believed to have been the last surviving grandson of the old chieftain, pierre thoma. while speaking of the maliseets and their chiefs, mention may be made of the fact that the indians, as a mark of especial confidence and favor, occasionally admitted one of the whites to the order of chieftainship. this compliment the maliseets paid to the french governor villebon, when he commanded at fort nachouac, and a like compliment was paid some sixty-five years ago to the late moses h. perley. in early life mr. perley was very fond of the woods and frequently visited the indian villages on the upper st. john to buy furs, which he paid for in silver dollars. so great was the confidence reposed in him by the indians that he became their agent with the provincial government, and was in the end adopted as their chief. in he visited england and was presented to queen victoria in the character of an indian chief, wearing on the occasion a very magnificent costume of ornamental bead-work, plumes, and so forth. he received at the queen's hands a silver medal three inches in diameter, on the edge of which was engraved, "from her most gracious majesty to m. h. perley, chief sachem of the milicetes and wungeet sagamore of the micmac nation. a. d., ." this medal is still in the possession of mr. perley's descendants. it will be noticed that the st. john river indians are termed "milicetes" in the above description. the form milicete, or melicete, used by dr. gesner and moses h. perley, has been followed by the majority of our provincial writers. dr. hannay, however, in his history of acadia, retains the spelling of villebon and the early french writers, malicite, which is almost identical with the latin form, malecitae, on the stone tablet of the chapel built by the missionary jean loyard at medoctec in . either of these pronounced in french fashion is practically identical with maliseet, the form adopted by modern students of indian lore, and which the writer has followed in this history. chapter xxvii. masts for the royal navy. the enormous lumbering operations carried on upon the st. john river and its tributaries in modern times had their small beginning, two centuries ago, when masts for the french navy were cut by order of the king of france.[ ] the war of the revolution obliged the english government to look for a reserve of trees suitable for masts in the remaining british colonies. in the year , arrangements were made with william davidson to provide a number of masts at the river st. john. [ ] mon. diereville states that in the man of war avenant, of guns, shipped at st. john some very fine masts for the french navy, which had been manufactured by carpenters and mast makers. these were safely delivered in france after a prosperous voyage of days. colonel francklin was quite aware of the necessity of giving careful attention to the indians at this juncture, for the machias rebels threatened to destroy the "king's masts" and endeavored to get the indians to harass the mast cutters and obstruct, them in every possible way. in consequence francklin sent the following letter to pierre thoma by james white, his deputy:-- "windsor, th november, . "my brother.--mr. davidson is now employed on the river st. john for the king my royal master. i therefore request you will afford him and all his people every assistance and protection in your power. "my brother,--i request and flatter myself if any party of rebels or indians should attempt to disturb mr. davidson that you and your people will prevent it, and if necessary take up arms for that purpose. "my brothers,--the governor of nova scotia sends to major studholme some presents for you; they are intended to encourage you to protect mr. davidson; receive them and be true to the trust that his excellency reposes in you. "my brother,--major studholme is your friend and your advocate and desires that all your faults may be overlooked and buried, therefore they are all forgot and will be thought of no more. "my brother,--present my best compliments to all the captains, councillors, and other indians of the river st. john, and i do not forget their wives and children. [seal.] "mich. francklin." the indians promised to protect the workmen who were employed in cutting masts. francklin soon afterwards sent a consignment of goods from windsor to fort howe in the schooner menaguashe, as a further inducement to them to protect mr. davidson's men in their work. in the letter accompanying the presents he says:-- "brethern,--king george wants masts for his ships and has employed people to provide them on your river, depending on you to protect them in cutting them and conveying them to fort howe. the governor sends you some presents, which major studholme will deliver you. they are intended to bind fast your promise that you will protect the mast cutters." the presents were delivered at aukpaque by james white[ ] and the masts were brought safely to fort howe. the first cargo of masts arrived at halifax on nd november, , in one of the navy transports. [ ] among the james white papers is the following: "aupahag, th june, . "received from james white, esq., agent to indians, river st. john, the goods sent them by the governor for the purpose of protecting the contractor, his people and masts from the rebels, etc., etc. (signed) francis xavier, nichola nepton, francis joseph, andrew fransway, joseph pemahawitt, pierre meductsick. the river st. john now assumed an importance in the eyes of english statesmen it had not before possessed. england's power, then as now, centred in her navy, and the larger warships required masts of such magnificent proportions that pine trees suitable for the purpose were rare. the rebellion of the old colonies having cut off the supply in that quarter the reservation of suitable trees in the remaining colonies became a matter of national concern. as long ago as in the time of george i. the british parliament passed an act (a. d. ) prohibiting the cutting or destroying of white pine trees inches in diameter and upwards in the king's woods in north america. in it was further enacted that the same penalties should be extended to trees growing on granted lands. so great was the anxiety manifested by the british government for the preservation of trees suitable for masts, that in the grants made in new brunswick at the close of the american war the words were inserted, "saving and reserving nevertheless to us, our heirs and successors (i. e. to the crown) all white pine trees." under the regulations of parliament the surveyor general of the woods and his deputies had a legal right to seize all white pine timber found in the possession of any one, although it might have been cut on his own land. it was the custom of the surveyor of the woods to grant licenses to the proprietors of lands to cut and take away such pine timber as was "unfit for his majesty's service and the standing of which was detrimental to cultivation;" but this was only done after a previous inspection, and marking with the "broad-arrow" such trees as were fit for the navy. the enforcement of the regulations for the protection and preservation of white pine trees was entrusted to sir john wentworth,[ ] surveyor of the king's woods in north america. he was a discreet and able man, of polished manners and amiable disposition, but the office he filled was by no means a popular one, and brought him into conflict not only with individual owners of the soil, but on one occasion, at least, with the lieutenant governor of new brunswick. [ ] john wentworth was the last royal governor of new hampshire. he was a classmate and friend of john adams, at harvard. he was an active loyalist, and at the close of the revolution, came to nova scotia. he was made a baronet and for sixteen years filled the position of lieutenant governor of nova scotia. he died at halifax in in the th year of his age. it was not many years after the establishment of the province that lt. gov'r carleton wrote the english secretary of state:-- "under the regulations for preserving masting timber the deputies appointed by the surveyor of the woods have, or assume to have, authority to seize all the pine timber which they find in the possession of any one, though it may have been cut on his own ground. * * * i feel it my duty to submit it to the consideration of his majesty's ministers whether it may not be expedient to relinquish these restrictions on private property, which have an evident tendency to discourage the advancement of cultivation and settlement in the province." sir john wentworth justified the enforcement of the regulations as a matter of national importance. he quoted the experience of new england where, after the restrictions of the surveyor general's office were removed, the mast timber had been so largely destroyed that it was scarcely possible to procure a cargo of large masts, and those that were to be had were held at enormous prices. even if the government should grant all the land available for settlement, it did not follow, he argued, that the efficiency of the navy should be imperilled or the mast timber pass into the hands of speculators; nor did he think that its preservation should be left entirely to the discretion of the owners of the soil. wentworth's representation to the home government proved effectual at the time; his deputies continued to range the woods, and many a tall, stately pine bore the mark of the "broad-arrow" in token that it was reserved for the royal navy. it was not until about the year that the reservation of white pine trees was no longer insisted upon by the crown. the masting business was a very important one in the early days of new brunswick. vessels were built expressly for the trade, and, being of large size, and usually sailing under protection of a man-of-war, soon became the favorite passenger ships. the development of the masting industry proceeded very rapidly after the arrival of the loyalists, but even before that date it had attained considerable proportions. sir richard hughes wrote to lord germaine on the th april, , that upwards of sticks for masts, yards and bowsprits had been cut, squared and approved by the king's purveyor at the river st. john in the course of the last fall and winter, and that one of the navy transports was then at fort howe loading a cargo of masts. the year the loyalists arrived, captain john munro, in reporting to general haldimand the state of settlement of the country, said:-- "on the river st. john are the finest masts and spars that i have ever seen. i saw at fort howe about six thousand pounds worth. two ships were loading when i left that place. i suppose there were masts sufficient there to load ten ships." the masts, spars, bowsprits and other timber, having been prepared in the woods by the workmen, were hauled to the water by oxen. trees growing near the stream were "bowsed out"--that is, hauled with block and tackle to the river's bank. in the month of march it was customary for the king's purveyor to certify the number and sizes of the sticks that had been brought to the stream, "trimmed four-square and fit for rafting," and on receipt of the purveyor's certificate the contractor was at liberty to draw one-half of the money due on the fulfilment of his contract, from the naval storekeeper at halifax. the masts were rafted and floated--or towed by sloops--to fort howe, where they were stored for shipment in the mast pond. the mast pond was a little cove to the west of portland point, just east of the site of the present portland rolling mills. the situation will be seen in the accompanying plan. it was closed and fenced in by the british government for the purpose of receiving the masts. [illustration: st. john harbor] a few words now concerning william davidson, who may be said to have been the first man to engage in lumbering on the river st. john. mr. davidson came from the north of scotland to miramichi in , the same year that james simonds and james white established themselves at the mouth of the river st. john. cooney, the historian of the north shore, tells us that at the time of davidson's arrival the abandoned houses of the french had been destroyed by the indians, and our scotch immigrant found himself the only white man in a vast and desolate region. if this be so he did not long remain solitary, for the next year a grant of , acres on the south side of the miramichi was made to him and john cort. mr. davidson was a resolute and energetic man. he prosecuted the fishery, and about the year built the first schooner launched upon the miramichi. at the time of the revolutionary war the micmacs were so hostile and troublesome that he removed with his family to maugerville, where he became the purchaser of two lots of land near the head of oromocto island. his associations with james simonds, wm. hazen and james white were not of the pleasantest kind. in consequence of purchasing some land at morrisania (below the present city of fredericton) the title to which was in dispute, he became involved in litigation with james simonds, and the result was a suit in the court of chancery,[ ] which proved rather costly to both parties. as regards messrs. hazen and white there was, as we shall presently see, a lot of trouble arising out of the masting business in which both parties were actively engaged. [ ] this was probably the first suit of the kind in the province of new brunswick. elias hardy was davidson's attorney and ward chipman appeared on behalf of james simonds. mr. davidson's influence on the st. john river is shown by the fact that he was elected a member of the nova scotia house of assembly for the county of sunbury. he returned to miramichi about the time the loyalists came to the province, and died there in . his tomb-stone in the old cemetery on beaubair's island bears the following inscription:-- sacred to the memory of william davidson, esq. representative of the county of northumberland, province of new brunswick, judge of the court of common pleas, contractor for masts for his majesty's navy. he died on the th of june, , aged . he was one of the first settlers of the river, and greatly instrumental in promoting the settlement. he left a widow and five children to deplore his loss. "memento mori." the success that attended william davidson's masting operations led messrs. hazen and white to engage in the same business. they were fortunate enough to secure the co-operation of colonel francklin, with whom they entered into partnership in the summer of for general trade and "masting." francklin's political influence at halifax and the personal friendship of sir andrew snape hamond, the lieutenant governor of nova scotia and commissioner of the navy yard, proved of very great advantage to the partners in their business. a few quotations from the original papers of the firm, which are now in the possession of the author, will throw light upon the nature of their subsequent operations. "contracted and agreed on the th day of august, , with sir andrew snape hamond, commissioner of his majesty's navy, resident at halifax, by us michael francklin, esqr., of windsor, and wm. hazen and james white, esqrs., of the river st. john in the province of nova scotia, and we do hereby covenant and agree to deliver, free of all charges to his majesty, at the mouth of the river st. john, the undermentioned north american white pine masts, yards, and bowsprits, ash rafters, elm timber, oak timber, anchor stocks of white oak, and crooked or compass timber, in the quantities, of the dimensions and at the prices expressed against each size * * to be brought to the mouth of the river saint john by or before the st day of july, , and there to remain at our risque until they shall be embarked on board such ships or vessels as shall be sent to transport them to england, halifax or elsewhere. * * * "it is further agreed by sir andrew snape hamond for the encouragement of the said contractors, that in case the enemy should make a descent on the port of saint john in order to destroy the masts lying there, that the damages sustained thereby should fall on government and not upon the contractors, provided it shall appear that all proper endeavors on the part of the contractors were used to save the masts." great britain was at this time engaged in a struggle for national existence. she was at war, not only with the colonies in rebellion, but with france, holland and spain, and that without a single ally. under such circumstances it was absolutely necessary that the navy should be kept as efficient as possible. the dockyards were busy places and we need not be surprised that good prices were paid for masts, yards, bowsprits and ship timber in general. in the contract signed by francklin, hazen and white the prices offered by government are stated in detail, but the table of prices is too long to quote in full. the sums paid varied with the size of the tree as will be seen from the following examples selected from the table in the contract: masts of inches diameter, yards long, £ . masts of inches diameter, yards long, £ . masts of inches diameter, yards long, £ . masts of inches diameter, yards long, £ . masts of inches diameter, yards long, £ . masts of inches diameter, yards long, £ . masts of inches diameter, yards long, £ . yards of inches diameter, yards long, £ . yards of inches diameter, yards long, £ . yards of inches diameter, - / yards long, £ . yards of inches diameter, yards long, £ . . bowsprits inches diameter, yards long, £ . . bowsprits inches diameter, yards long, £ . . bowsprits inches diameter, - / yards long, £ . bowsprits inches diameter, yards long, £ . . the rapid increase in price as the maximum dimensions were neared was due to the fact that timber of such size was exceedingly rare. the certificate of the naval storekeeper, george thomas, shows that on the th july, , francklin, hazen & white had delivered under the protection of his majesty's post at fort howe, in pursuance of their contract of the th of august, , masts valued at £ . . ; yards valued at £ . . ; bowsprits valued at £ . . - / and m. feet white ash oar rafters valued at £ . . ; so that the firm received upwards of $ , from government on their first year's masting operations. some of the sticks obtained were of very large size, including one mast, inches in diameter and - / feet long, and a yard inches in diameter and feet long; for these two sticks they received respectively $ and $ . it was essential to the success of the masting business that a good practical man should be at the head of it, and mr. white's brother-in-law, samuel peabody, was selected for the position. he was given an interest in the contract and was also allowed "seven shillings and six pence per diem in consideration of his care and trouble in taking upon him the management of the business." at the time the agreement was made with mr. peabody, michael francklin was at the river st. john.[ ] the agreement specified that the masts, yards and bowsprits were to be converted into eight squares carrying their dimensions in their several parts conformable to the rules of the navy. [ ] the document was dated at maugerville the th october, . the parties to the agreement were on the one hand francklin, hazen & white; and on the other hand francklin, hazen, white & peabody. the second party were to deliver to the first at fort howe "by the first freshes in the spring" the masts, yards, etc., mentioned in the contract. one third of the profit or loss to be the said samuel peabody's and two-thirds to be the said michael francklin, wm. hazen and james white's. while the profits derived from the mast business may have been considerable, the expenses also were heavy. there were many unforseen contingencies. the demand for workmen and laborers in a short time nearly doubled the rate of wages, and the cost of provisions and supplies increased. in the course of a few months col. francklin sent three consignments of goods to st. john, amounting in value to about $ , . a bill of lading in those days was a quaint document, witness the following: "shipped by the grace of god, by john butler dight in and upon the good ship called the young william naval store ship, whereof is master, under god, for this present voyage, george hastings, and now riding at anchor in the harbour of halifax, and by god's grace bound for fort howe, river st. john in the bay of fundy. to say, one hogshead, three casks, one case, three bales, one large trunk, one bag coffee, six boxes, twenty barrels pork, and twenty firkins butter--by order of mich'l francklin, esq., for account and risque of himself, wm. hazen & james white, consigned to messrs. hazen & white at fort howe as aforesaid, being marked and numbered as in the margin, and are to be delivered in good order and well conditioned at the port of fort howe (the danger of the seas only excepted.) in witness whereof the master of the said ship hath affirmed to three bills of lading, all of this tenor and date; the one of which three bills being accomplished, the other two to stand void. and so god send the good ship to her desired port in safety. amen. "dated in halifax rd april, . "g. hastings." col. francklin procured at halifax many articles needed for the mast cutters, such as chains, blocks and tackle, camp supplies, etc. flour retailed in halifax at this time at $ . per bbl., and the freight to fort howe was $ . per bbl. pork cost at halifax $ . per bbl. and upwards. the population on the st. john river was small, and men and oxen were in demand both in winter and summer. the cultivation and improvement of farms was retarded and a spirit of speculation introduced into the country, destined ere long to bear pernicious fruit. francklin sent from windsor some skilled hewers of timber. nevertheless the masting operations were carried on after a primitive fashion, and mr. peabody was constantly obliged to write for articles needed by his workmen. a few sentences culled from his correspondence with hazen & white will shed a little light on the difficulties that attended the masting business: "there is no prospect of the business being in one place as we expected when mr. francklin was here; at present have given up trying at st. anns, for the pine proves so rotten that it would never pay the expense of cutting a road to where it grows." [nov. d, .] "the men are very bad off for bread, and people cannot work without good food, besides it takes much time in baking indian cakes for them in the woods, one hand continually imploy'd. * * we are very badly off indeed for chalk lines, having nothing of that kind to make use of but twine." [jan. , .] "davidson is almost done--his situation is this: no workmen, no rum, no provision, he's nearly possesst of pandora's box." [feb. , .] "men's wear is much wanted, such as thick clothes, a few blankets if you can procure them, as some men are obliged to sleep without blankets in the camp." [feb. , .] "pork, beef and corn is very scarce and dear, the two former not to be bought. have engaged what wheat and indian corn we could on the river." [march d, .] "our common laborers value their hire very high, as there is so many mast cutting, running from place to place to get sticks for the highest bidder." [dec. , .] "some chocolate is wanted for our masting camp for at present we use spruce tea, which causes some murmuring." [feb. , .] in order to fill the contract at the time fixed, samuel peabody found it necessary to cruise the woods over a wide area selecting trees that grew not far from the banks of the streams which might be "bowsed in" by oxen with block and tackle. in consequence of the competition with mr. davidson the hire of a yoke of oxen became as high as seven shillings and six pence a day and difficult to obtain at that. the exigencies of the situation were such that hayes and peabody ventured to press into their service a pair of fat oxen that had been sent down the river from st. anns by philip weade for an entirely different purpose. this was displeasing to hazen & white who wrote: "we are much surprised that you stopped the particular pair of oxen which we desired last fall to be stall fed for the use of the officers of the garrison here and ourselves, which hath left them and us without a good slice of beef." it is rather a curious circumstance that very soon after francklin, hazen and white embarked in the masting business they found themselves at logger heads with william davidson, whose workmen they had for two years been endeavoring to protect from interference on the part of the "rebels" and indians. in point of fact mr. davidson suffered greater annoyance at the hands of samuel peabody and his mast cutters than he ever experienced from the rebels or the indians. under the arrangements at first made with the government of nova scotia, a good deal of latitude was allowed the mast cutters. mr. davidson had a special order to cut masts, yards, etc., for his majesty's service, wherever he could find them. under this roving commission his workmen came into contact on several occasions with those of the other contractors and in a very short time there was bad blood between them. samuel peabody, who had charge of the operations of francklin, hazen and white, was a man of resolute and somewhat aggressive spirit. william davidson on the other hand, possessed all the energy and determination for which the scotch race is noted. the state of affairs on the river st. john in consequence of the rivalry created by the masting business was not at all harmonious. the sentiments of the people were divided. there were some who sided with hazen, white and peabody while others took the part of wm. davidson and israel perley--the latter being in mr. davidson's employ. a couple of letters of the period will serve to show how the rivals regarded one another. samuel peabody writes as follows: maugerville, nd nov'r, . "messrs. hazen & white, merchants at fort howe, "gentlemen,--since i wrote to you by john hart, giving you account of the badness of the pine lumber back of st. anns, i sent hands up nashwalk to try the timber in that place, and find the timber to be small near the waterside. upon davidson's understanding i was determined to try that place, he immediately sent a party of french up that river, commanded by israel perley, to cut all the timber that fell in his way, among which was a large tree that i suppose was marked by mr. hayes, as he tells people that it had several broad arrows on it. at the same time that davidson dispatched this party he sent another party back of thomas langin's[ ] upon the growth of pine mr. hayes had pitched upon for us, and has his small party sallying out upon all quarters, and bids defiance to any proprietors stopping him from such proceedings. now if he is allowed to cut timber upon the society's land[ ] it will be impossible for me to furnish half the quantity of sticks i could if i had the privilege of all the above mentioned lands. [ ] thomas langan lived at this time about four miles above st. ann's point. on his lot there was a log house and he had about acres of land, cleared chiefly by the french. he lived there about six years but was disturbed by the indians, who, about this time, killed his cattle and made his situation so precarious that he moved down the river with his family to burton. [ ] the townships of the st. john's river society are here referred to, more particularly burton, sunbury and new-town. wm. hazen, james simonds and james white were proprietors of lands in these townships, and peabody regarded wm. davidson as an intruder. "tomorrow morning i am a going with or hands to cut sum fine trees up oromocto, near whear davidson is stearing his course, as he should be paid in his own coin. i have imployed sum men to cut trees by the jobb up oromocto, and by searching, they say, that there may be had some fine lengthy trees, but not the greatest diameter. "i hope one of you will come up soon and reside a few days, for, as i mentioned to you in my last letter it is very difficult for me to procure hands at suitable times, as i am in the woods the cheaf of the time, and at present there is no prospect of the business being in one place, as we expected when col. francklin left this place. at present i have given up trying at saint anns, for the pine proves so rotten that it never will pay the expense of cutting a road in to where it groes "there is sum that pertended to undertake to ingage to get us sum sticks, by what i can learn has ingaged them to davidson, especially that scoudril john tibbits, although he gave mr. francklin good incurragement, as i thought, that we should have all the sticks that he could procure. i am, with respect, your humble serv't, sam'l peabody. a year later william davidson writes in quite as emphatic terms to samuel peabody: maugerville, th december, . "sir--i'm not a little surprised at a piece of your conduct that has lately come to my knowledge; which is your triming my masts, etc., on the streame of rushaganes and its vicinaty. i cannot conjecture upon what principle you pretend to have acted. i had (& have) a speciall order from government to cutt masts, yards, etc., for his majesty's use wherever i could find them, when i cutt those sticks, which constitute as good a right in them to me as any that could be given. if (by some kind of means) the people you're concerned with afterwards got a grant of the lands on which they were, it could not be supposed to extend to a prior right any other person had derived from as good authority. but in the mean time i shall not take the trouble to say any more on the subject than to desire you will from this time desist from meddling with any sticks that have been cut for me, and also relinquish what you have already medled with. "i wish to live peaceably, but i have lately experienced so many instances of your most bare-faced and wanton oppression, to my prejudice, that there's no longer a doubt with me what course i must be under the disagreeable necessity to take, that i may obtain redress and do justice to myself and family. i shall expect your immediate answer for my future government, and am, sir, "your humble serv't "wm. davidson." the fact that william davidson was the first in the field gave him some local advantages that were increased considerably by the predilection in his favor displayed by constant connor, the commander of the small garrison posted at the oromocto blockhouse. this we know from one of the letters of the government purveyor, john hayes, who was exceedingly friendly to hazen & white. he wrote "i am sorry to say that lieut. connor is much atached to davidson and andrews,[ ] his orders from sir richard hughes specifying to give davidson all the assistance in his power, and on that account davidson carries much more sway than he otherwise would." [ ] the reference is to george andrew, government purveyor, who surveyed the masts furnished by mr. davidson's workmen. sir richard hughes, it may be observed, was succeeded as lieut. governor of nova scotia by sir andrew snape hamond in . both hughes and hamond held in turn the office of commissioner of the naval yard at halifax. colonel francklin had himself been lieutenant governor of nova scotia from to , and seems to have kept on excellent terms with his successors. through his influence at headquarters the government patronage passed largely to the firm of which he was the senior partner. francklin was an adept in the art of diplomacy. during the revolutionary war, as we have already seen, his tact and judgment prevented the indians from becoming actively hostile to the english and restrained the new englanders, settled in cumberland and other parts of nova scotia, from taking up arms on the side of the rebellion. a specimen of his diplomacy in small matters is found in one of his letters to hazen & white in which he writes: "however high indian corn may be, i wish you would send twenty bushels to sir andrew for his poultry, in which lady hamond takes great delight, and pray don't omit getting her some wood ducks in the approaching season." some further light is thrown upon the state of affairs on the river st. john at this period, and the "modus operandi" of the mast cutters by the following letter, written by hazen & white, to colonel francklin:-- "fort howe, rd march, . "dear sir,--since our last we have been at maugerville viewing the masts, etc, etc. mr. peabody has cut down and procured as many sticks as could be expected under the disadvantage of having the other contractor at his elbow. you will find enclosed mr. hayes account and certificates of the number and sizes of sticks on the banks, trimmed four square and fit for rafting. they have about more cut, many of which cannot be got out this season. mr. peabody set off on the th inst. to view a glade of pines on the grand lake, about miles from mr. simonds' house, where he has a number of men to work. * * the french people at kanibikashes have about sticks cut. they say they will be able to get out and bring here this spring about sticks, the others they can get out in summer. pork, beef and corn is very scarce and dear; the two former not to be bought. have engaged what wheat and indian corn we could on the river. * * davidson expects to have sticks out this season and near as many more cut in the woods; he gives the people larger prices for sticks (and takes them at maugerville or elsewhere afloat) than we give mr. peabody delivered here. * * we must have two or three hundred pounds in cash here by the first conveyance. "yours etc., "hazen & white." the pines of our primeval forests were evidently of magnificent proportions. samuel peabody mentions cutting a yard feet in length and inches in diameter, and a mast inches in diameter, and other timber of nearly equal size. many of the largest pines grew on the banks of the rushagonish, a branch of the oromocto. by the favor of lieut. governor hamond and his council messrs. hazen, white and peabody obtained possession of a tract of , acres of land in that quarter. the grant was made in the first instance to william hazen, james white, jacob barker and tamberlane campbell, as officers serving in the provincial troops in the last french war. tamberlane campbell immediately sold his share to samuel peabody for a small consideration. the extent of william davidson's masting operations must have been very considerable, for hazen & white wrote to colonel francklin in march, , "davidson will have about sticks out this season and near as many more fell in the woods, having employed almost half the inhabitants in cutting. we should not be surprised to hear that he, with many of the inhabitants, should memorialize the navy commissioner to have all his sticks received; if so, and he should succeed, another contract for us would be but of little advantage as he has raised the price of provision and men and ox labour--oxen to s. d. pr. pair pr. day and men in proportion." the masting business seems to have been remunerative, and was the means of putting in circulation a considerable amount of specie, which was greatly appreciated by the settlers on the river st. john. on april , , col. francklin wrote to his partners, hazen & white, "there is no doubt of another contract, or of sir andrew's friendship to me, therefore go on and get out as many sticks as you can, and throw down as many as you are sure of getting out between this and xmass, at least, for be assured we shall have another contract, and i mean to apply for a standing one when i go to halifax again, which i expect will be in ten days or a fortnight, or even sooner if the annual ships (from england) arrive." the letter from which this extract is taken is the last that has been preserved of francklin's interesting correspondence with william hazen and james white. he died at halifax, nov. , . the masting business was, however, carried on by hazen, white and peabody for several years longer. william davidson also continued to engage in the business. although some improvement was gradually made in the way the masting business was conducted by the pioneer "lumbermen"--if we may so term them--the methods employed down to were very crude. in that year peter fisher writes. "in this country there is no article that can in any degree furnish export equal to the pine, which is manufactured in the simplest manner with but little trouble. so simple is the process that most settlers who have the use of the axe can manufacture it, the woods furnishing a sort of simple manufactory for the inhabitants, from which, after attending to their farms in the summer, they can draw returns during the winter for the supplies which are necessary for the comfort of their families." mr. fisher enters a strong protest against what was, even then a growing evil, namely, the wanton destruction of valuable young timber by persons who were merely speculators, and had little regard for the future. the rapid increase in the lumber industry is seen from the fact that in there was shipped from the port of st. john alone , tons of pine and birch timber; , , feet of pine boards and planks; , , staves; , pine shingles; , masts and spars; , handspikes, oars and oar rafters; and , cords of lathwood; while in addition large quantities were shipped from miramichi, st. andrews, richibucto and bathurst. up to there is scarcely any mention of spruce lumber as an article of export. the first spruce deals cut in new brunswick were sawn in , and the first cargo, which consisted of only , superficial feet, was shipped to england in . in , hazen, white and peabody had a small saw mill in operation on the oromocto stream, and about this time they erected another and larger one. the mills were not profitable at first, but they became more valuable after the close of the revolutionary war, when the arrival of the loyalists created a great demand for sawn lumber. before we turn from the consideration of the small beginnings of our great lumbering industry to other matters, a few words may be added concerning the glasier family, so famous in the annals of the province for their enterprises on the river st. john. colonel beamsley glasier's connection with the mills erected on the nashwaak in , by the st. john's river society, has already been related. his brother benjamin, who was a somewhat younger man, came to the st. john river from massachusetts in as a shipwright. the revolutionary war, however, rendered it impracticable to carry on ship building, so he moved up the river to what was then called "morrisania," about six miles below fredericton, where in he purchased from benjamin bubier, for the sum of £ , a tract of , acres of land on which his desendants of the fourth generation still reside. benjamin glasier's commission as a lieutenant in the massachusetts infantry is yet preserved in the family. it bears the signature of thomas hutchinson, the last royal governor of massachusetts. lieut. glaiser served in the french and indian wars and was taken prisoner at the siege of fort william henry. benjamin glasier was the progenitor of the well known family, of which the late senator john glasier (familiarly known as "the main john glasier") and his brothers stephen, duncan and benjamin were members. the operations of the glasier family in lumbering and shipbuilding extended over very nearly a century. at one time they were undoubtedly the largest operators in new brunswick, employing over six hundred men. for many years their production was principally pine timber, which was shipped to liverpool. the late senator glasier began his lumbering operations on the shogomoc, in york county, and afterwards in company with his brother stephen, extended them to the waters of the upper st. john. he was the first lumberman to bring a drive over the grand falls, and is said to have been the first white man to explore the squattook lakes. the phrase "the main john glasier" originated with an irishman named paddy mcgarrigle, who was employed as a cook.[ ] it was soon universally adopted by the lumbermen and, strange to say, has spread over the continent. in the western states today men employed in lumbering apply the term, "he is the main john glasier" to the manager of any big lumbering concern. it is said that only a few of those who use the term know its origin. it was undoubtedly carried to the west by men who went there from the river st. john. senator glasier died at ottawa in his th year, during the session of , while engaged in the discharge of his parliamentary duties. [ ] my authority for this is adam beveridge, esq., of andover, than whom few, if any, living men are better posted on the history of lumbering on the st. john river.--w. o. r. it is a curious circumstance that the present members for sunbury county in the provincial legislature, parker glasier and j. douglas hazen, are great-grandsons respectively of benjamin glasier and john hazen, old neighbors and worthy residents of sunbury one hundred and twenty years ago. at that time sunbury included nearly the whole of the province, now it is a very modest little constituency indeed. the origin of the famous "wood-boats" of the st. john river is revealed in the correspondence of hazen and white. previous to the arrival of the loyalists all the vessels used on the river were either small schooners and sloops or gondolos; but in november, , hazen and white determined to build two schooners or boats to bring wood to market to carry about eight cords. these little vessels they state were to be managed by two men and were not decked. chapter xxviii. pioneers on the st. john river in pre-loyalist days. considerable information has already been given in the preceding chapters of this history concerning the first english settlers on the river st. john, and the names of such men as francis peabody, israel perley, james simonds, james white, william hazen, jonathan and daniel leavitt, beamsley p. and benjamin glasier, benjamin atherton, william davidson, gilfred studholme and others will be familiar to the majority of our readers. some further information concerning the early settlers may prove of equal interest. beckwith. nehemiah beckwith was an active and well known man on the st. john river in his day and generation. he was a descendant of mathew beckwith, who came to america from yorkshire, england, in . the branch of the family to which nehemiah beckwith belonged lived chiefly at lyme in connecticut. two brothers, samuel and john, emigrated from that place to nova scotia in , in consequence of the inducements offered by governor lawrence to new englanders to occupy the lands vacated by the acadians. a fleet of vessels from connecticut, carrying a considerable colony, entered minas basin on the th day of june, and the settlers landed near the town plot of cornwallis. nehemiah beckwith was born at lyme, february , , and was the seventh, and youngest, child of samuel beckwith by his wife miriam, who was a daughter of capt. reynold marvin. at the time of his arrival in "bluenose land" he was little more than four years old. the exact date of his arrival at maugerville is uncertain, but it was probably not long before the th december, , when--as we learn from old sunbury county records--he purchased half of lot no. in upper maugerville from joseph dunphy for £ . nehemiah beckwith is described in the deed of conveyance as "late of cornwallis but now of maugerville, trader." mr. beckwith was quite an enterprising man in the early days of new brunswick. he was the first to attempt the establishment of regular communication by water between st. john and fredericton, and for that purpose built in august, , a scow or tow-boat to ply between parrtown and st. anns. a little later he built at mauger's (or gilbert's) island a ship called the lord sheffield, which he sold on the stocks in may, , to gen'l benedict arnold. in consequence of sharp practice on the part of arnold he was financially ruined. however, in a few years he succeeded in extricating himself from his difficulties and again became an enterprising and useful citizen. at the first general election in this province mr. beckwith and james simonds were candidates for the county of sunbury, their opponents being capt. richard vanderburg and william hubbard. the election was conducted after the old fashioned style of open voting, and lasted several days, during which the poll was held in succession at the principal centres. after a sharp party contest between the old inhabitants and the loyalists, the former were outvoted and simonds and beckwith consequently defeated. this election helped to intensify the ill-will and jealousy already existing between the "old" and "new" inhabitants. mr. beckwith married miss julia le brun and, after a time, made his residence at fredericton, where he met his death by drowning in . his son, the late hon. john a. beckwith, born in fredericton, december st, , filled many high offices. he was for a time mayor of fredericton, chairman of the provincial board of agriculture, a director of the quebec and new brunswick railway and for many years agent of the new brunswick and nova scotia land company. his son harry beckwith was for several years mayor of fredericton; another son, charles w. was for years city clerk, and a third, adolphus g., filled for some time the position of chief engineer of the provincial public works department. a daughter married james hazen of oromocto, sunbury county, and is the mother of j. douglas hazen, m. p. p. quinton. hugh quinton, who was one of the pioneers who came to st. john in with captain francis peabody, was born in cheshire, new hampshire, in . being of an adventurous spirit he served, while only a lad in his teens, in one of the provincial regiments at crown point in the french war. his wife, elizabeth christie of londonderry, new hampshire, was born in the same year as her husband. they were married at the age of twenty and came to st. john a year later. according to the late john quinton (who was hugh quinton's grandson and derived much of his information directly from his grandmother's lips) hugh and his wife elizabeth arrived in st. john on the th august, , and on their arrival found shelter at the old fort frederick barracks in carleton where, on the night of the day of their arrival, their first child james quinton was born: to him therefore appertains the honor of being the first child of english speaking parents born at st. john. not long afterwards hugh quinton went up the river to maugerville, of which township he was one of the first grantees. he is described in an old legal document as "inn-holder," from which it is evident he furnished entertainment to travellers, or kept a "tavern." in those days the keeper of a tavern was usually quite an important personage. many of the first religious services at maugerville were held at hugh quinton's house, as being centrally situated and more commodious than those of the majority of the settlers. he was himself a member of the congregational church. in he sold his lot of land opposite middle island, and removed to manawagonish in the township of conway where, as we learn from an enumeration of the settlers made st august, , (yet preserved at halifax) he lived with his family, comprising ten persons in all, in a small log house, his stock of domestic animals including horses, oxen and bulls, cows, young cattle, sheep and swine. in common with the majority of the settlers who came from new england, the sympathies of hugh quinton in the revolutionary war were at first with the "rebels." he was one of the "rebel committee," formed at maugerville in may, , and accompanied colonel jonathan eddy in his quixotic expedition against fort cumberland. after this unlucky escapade hugh quinton thought better of his conduct, took the oath of allegiance and on several occasions turned out and fought the rebel parties. at the peace in he drew a lot in parrtown, at the corner of charlotte and princess streets, (where the residence of the late dr. john berryman now stands), also one in carleton. for many years he kept a well known house of entertainment at manawagonish, parish of lancaster. he died in , but his widow lived until the year . he was the ancestor of all of the name who are now resident in the province. jones. john jones, the ancestor of the late hon. thomas r. jones and many others of the name in the province, claims a little notice at our hands. his grandfather came to america from wales about the year , accompanied by his family. they landed at newburyport, settling, a little later, at amesbury. this immigrant ancestor met a tragic death at the hands of the indians. john jones, who came to st. john, was the youngest of his father's children. he learned the ship-carpenter's trade, and came to st. john with william hazen in as a master workman to build ships for the firm of hazen, simonds and white. the first vessel he was employed in constructing was on the stocks and partly planked when she was burned by a party of marauders from machias. mr. jones' employers paid him his daily wages for some time, in order to retain his services, under the impression that the revolutionary war would soon be ended and they would be able to resume the business of ship-building. during this waiting period jones was not entirely idle--at least he found time to marry a new england girl, mercy hilderick by name, who was visiting at the home of her brother-in-law samuel peabody. the marriage ceremony was performed by gervas say, esquire, a neighboring justice of the peace. the ravages of the yankee privateers that infested the shores of the bay of fundy obliged mr. jones and nearly all his neighbors of the township of conway to move up the river. but previous to their departure there occurred john allan's famous invasion of the st. john. allan left a guard of sixty men at the mouth of the river to oppose the landing of the troops under major studholme and col. francklin. the british landed eventually at manawagonish cove near the house of samuel peabody and were guided by messrs. jones, peabody and others through the woods to the place where the enemy were encamped on the west side of the river near the falls. the americans were apprised of their coming and had ambushed themselves--some of them climbing into trees. major studholme sent out flanking parties, which fired upon the enemy from either side, killing eight of their number, who were buried in one grave near the spot where they fell; the rest fled terror stricken with all possible speed to machias. john jones at first went up the river to jemseg point, which was then covered with white oak trees. later he became acquainted with edmund price and, concluding to become his neighbor, removed to the head of long reach and settled at the place called "coy's mistake" on kemble manor, where he had a property of acres of land. it would be quite impossible in this chapter to follow the various ramifications of the jones family, for john jones had a family of eight sons and seven daughters, fourteen of whom married and reared large families. one of the sons, samuel, born while the family were at manawagonish, in the first years of the last century had the responsible duty of carrying his majesty's weekly mail from st. john to fredericton. there was, by the way, a curious circumstance connected with this mail, namely, that letters from halifax to st. john were first carried to fredericton, as the headquarters of the province, and then returned to st. john. this involved a delay of about a week in delivery. naturally the beauties of such a system did not strike the citizens of the commercial metropolis at all favorably, and the consequence was a vigorous "kick" on the part of the citizens of st. john that led ere long to a change for the better. the house of john jones, at the head of long reach, was a favorite stopping place for travellers in early times, and the reputation of the family for hospitality was proverbial. the loyalist settlers at kingston during the summer of met with much kindness from the jones family while they were living in their canvas tents and busily engaged in the construction of log houses and in making preparations for the ensuing winter. burpee. the first of the burpee family in america appears to have been thomas burpee, who settled at rowley in the county of essex, massachusetts. this town lies near the north-east corner of the "old bay state." it was settled about , and thomas burpee bought a lot there immediately after the first settlement was made. it was from this town and its vicinity that many of the first settlers of the township of maugerville came in - . included in the number were the burpees, barkers, perleys, jewetts, palmers and others whose decendants are quite numerous in the province today. rowley was a stronghold of new england puritanism and, if we are to credit the testimony of the rev'd. jacob bailey, who was born there in and was a contemporary of jonathan burpee and of jacob barker, the citizens of rowley were not remarkable for their enterprise. mr. bailey writes that in his day "every man planted as many acres of indian corn, and sowed the same number with rye; he ploughed with as many oxen, hoed it as often, and gathered in his crop on the same day with his grandfather; he salted down the same quantity of beef and pork, wore the same kind of stockings, and at table sat and said grace with his wife and children around him, just as his predecessors had done before him." "an uniform method of thinking and acting prevailed, and nothing could be more criminal than for one person to be more learned, religious, or polite than another."[ ] [ ] many facts of interest concerning the early days of rowley are to be found in the history of rowley by thomas gage, printed in . it contains a genealogical register of the families of some of the first settlers of the town. doubtless the emigration of the men of massachusetts, who settled on the river st. john, deprived new england of some of the more enterprising of its people. an indication of the puritan ancestry of these immigrants who settled on the st. john river is furnished by the biblical names of a very large majority of the original grantees of maugerville.[ ] among these names we find the following:--enoch, moses, joshua, elisha, samuel, jeremiah, ezekiel, daniel, nehemiah, jedediah, isaac, israel, jacob, joseph, benjamin, zebulun, david, jonathan, phinehas, jabez, nathaniel, asa, ammi, thomas, matthew, stephen, peter, james and john. [ ] see names of grantees at page of this history. in the town and parish records of rowley the name of thomas burpee frequently appears--the surname usually in the form of burkby or burkbee. the name of jonathan burpee (who was probably a great grandson of the first ancestor in america) appears in the list of the first grantees at maugerville. he was a deacon of the congregational church and his name is first in order among the signers of the church covenant agreed to at maugerville shortly after the settlement was founded. he was the head of nearly all church movements up to the time of his death in june, . the papers connected with the administration of his estate are still in existence, and much of the information contained in dr. hannay's valuable sketch of the township of maugerville is based upon them. his estate was appraised by jacob barker and daniel jewett, two of his old neighbors and life-long friends, and was valued at £ . he was considered, in his day, one of the well-to-do farmers of the township. the simplicity of life which prevailed in this country in the year , is shown by the fact that jonathan burpee had no carriage or wagon of any kind and no sleigh--probably the roads were too bad to admit of the use of wheeled vehicles. the deacon, however, had a saddle for himself and a pillion for his wife and daughters. household furniture was indeed meagre, for that of deacon burpee was valued at only £ . . . but his three good feather beds with pillows, coverlets and bankets were valued at £ . . . the cooking in those days was done at the old-fashioned fire place with swinging crane, and the cooking utensils were few and simple. all the dishes in use were of pewter and their number was quite limited. a similar remark applies to the wearing apparel of that time. a beaver hat or a broadcloth suit was regarded as a valuable asset that might be handed on to the second or even to the third generation. deacon burpee's library included "a number of books valued at £ . . .," and probably it was as good as any in the settlement. commenting on these facts dr. hannay justly observes, "we may gather from all this that life was somewhat hard and dry in the maugerville settlement, and that even the richest had very few of those things about them which a modern man regards as essential to his comfort." jonathan burpee's grandson, david, was a man of mark in the community in which his lot was cast. he filled for a time the office of sheriff of the old county of sunbury. to him also appertains the honor of being the first school teacher, of whom we have certain knowledge, within the limits of new brunswick. in the winter of - he conducted a school distant only a few rods from the site of the famous sheffield academy of later times. among the later descendants of jonathan burpee the names of the hon. isaac burpee, minister of customs in the mckenzie government, and of e. r. burpee manager of the "western extension" r. r., were not long ago as familiar in the province as household words. descendants of jonathan and jeremiah burpee are now to be found in nearly all the counties bordering on the river st. john. palmer. the first of the name in america is believed to have been john palmer, a sergeant in the british army, who settled in rowley, mass., in . daniel palmer who was one of the founders of maugerville, settled in what is now upper sheffield in . he was one of the seven signers of the maugerville church covenant and an elder of the church. many of the early religious services were held at his house. his name in common with most of the early settlers is found in the account books of simonds and white in the year . he supplied them with musquash and beaver skins, hogshead staves, clapboards and oar rafters in return for such goods and supplies as he needed. like the majority of his neighbors he was disposed to sympathize with the americans at the outbreak of the revolution and was one of the "rebel committee" but afterwards accepted the situation and took the oath of allegiance to the king. his grandson, david palmer, born at grand lake, queens co., in , was a man of literary ability, who in , published a volume from the press of j. & a. mcmillan, entitled new brunswick and other poems. nevers. several persons of this name were grantees of maugerville, including elisha, jabez, phinehas and samuel. the nevers family settled at woburn, massachusetts, nearly a century before the pioneers came to maugerville. the first of the name was richard nevers (or neverds) who is mentioned in the town records of woburn, august , . several of his decendants served in the old french war, which ended with the conquest of canada, and it is probable that the offer of free grants of lands to disbanded provincial troops led elisha, phinehas and samuel nevers to associate themselves with captain francis peabody in the application for a township, "at st. john's river in nova scotia," made in the year . elisha nevers was one of the seven signers of the original maugerville church covenant, and religious meetings were often held at his house in early times. phinehas nevers was quite a leading man in the early days of maugerville. he was one of the first magistrates, and in was chosen a member for the county of sunbury in the nova scotia legislature. he practised medicine and was the first doctor, in all probability, who lived on the river. the practise of medicine was by no means a lucrative one in his day, for we learn from the account books of messrs. simonds & white, that in february, , he attended one of the men in their employ, having come down from maugerville for the purpose, and received £ . . . for board for sixteen days and £ . for his professional services. dr. nevers was a strong sympathiser with the americans at the time of the revolution and when john allan invaded the river st. john in , he joined him, and when a little later allan was compelled by major studholme to flee to machias, he was accompanied thither by phinehas nevers. other members of the family however took the oath of allegiance and were thenceforth loyal to the king. samuel nevers was a man of enterprise and was one of those who furnished masts to enable francklin hazen and white to fulfil their contract for the royal navy. perley. the founder of the perley family in new england was allan perley, who came from london in in the ship "planter." a good deal of information regarding the family may be found in the historical collections of the essex county institute of massachusetts. israel perley was a native of boxford, in the vicinity of rowley, and the house in which he was born was standing not many years ago and may be still in existence. he was born in , was educated as a land surveyor, and came to the river st. john in at the head of an exploring party said to have been sent by the governor of massachusetts to report upon the condition and resources of the country with the view of effecting the settlement of a township in that region. the story of the establishment of this township and the important services of israel perley in that connection have been already referred to in these chapters. at the time of his arrival in the country he was a young man of twenty-one years of age but in the course of time his education and natural abilities made him one of the most prominent citizens of maugerville. he was elected a representative for sunbury county in the nova scotia legislature in , and his name occurs a few years later as a justice of the peace for the county. several of justice perley's court documents are to be found among the old records of the county of sunbury, one of which reads as follows: "county of sunbury:--be it remembered that on the seventh day of july, , nathaniel barker of maugerville in the county of sunbury and province of nova scotia, yeoman, cometh before me, israel perley, one of his majesty's justices assigned to keep the peace in the sd county, and informeth against himself that he had been this day guilty of a breach of the king's peace, viz., by striking with his fist the body of rich'd estey jun'r of the town, county and province aforesaid, yeoman, for which offence he is willing to submit to such a fine as the law requires. "the sd richard estey jun'r personally appeareth at the same time and declareth before me that he forgives the sd. nathaniel barker the injury he had done him, being convinced that it was not of malice aforethought but the effect of sudden passion: for which breach of peace i have fined the sd nath'l barker to the king one shilling. "israel perley." however all the cases that came before esquire perley were not settled in a manner so creditable to the offending party. the following case will serve for illustration: on the june, , a resident of morrisania,[ ] who shall be nameless, was arrested on information laid by richard barlow for using seditious and profane language. abigail barlow, wife of the complainant, testified that the offender had in her presence uttered the following words "the king i believe is a d--d roman, and if he was standing now in that corner by g-- i would shoot him, or stab him," with many other words to the same purpose. the prisoner was convicted of profane swearing, and the magistrate decreed that he should forfeit for that offence the sum of two shillings currency to the use of the poor of the town of maugerville, and it was further ordered that the prisoner "stands charged with the treasonable words spoken against the king till he shall be further called upon to answer the same--there being at present no gaol in the sd. county wherein to confine said prisoner nor courts held to determine such matters." [ ] morrisania was in the parish of lincoln below fredericton. israel perley was a leading member of the congregational church and frequently occupied the chair as moderator at important public meetings. he was one of the committee who, in , arranged with the rev. seth noble to become the pastor of the church at maugerville. the friendship that existed between mr. perley and the rev. seth noble very nearly involved the former in serious difficulty a few years later, as will be seen in the following letter addressed by major studholme to james white, esquire. "fort howe, november, . "sir,--the inclosed letter from mr. perley to seth noble of newbury having fallen into my hands in the course of inspecting the letters to be sent by the cartel, i have thought it necessary instantly to secure the person of mr. perley and shall send him to your house about this morning, when i must request you will closely examine him on the subject of the inclosed letter. i cannot but think it will be very difficult for him to reconcile his styling himself the 'sincere friend' of a notorious rebel with his own situation as one of his majesty's justices of the peace. * * * "i am sir, etc., etc. "g. studholme." in the examination that followed lieut. samuel denny street, a lawyer by profession and at this time a lieutenant of the garrison, appeared for major studholme, and mr. perley was required to explain certain paragraphs and expressions in his letter, also to explain why he attempted a correspondence with "a declared and notorious rebel to whom in his letter he subscribes himself a sincere friend." mr. perley replied, "i meant not to maintain any correspondence with him, but as his wife was going to him in the cartel i wrote the letter now produced to acquaint him of the broken situation of the church here, and that there would be no encouragement to him to think of returning." in regard to the expression, "your sincere friend," israel perley stated that the rev. mr. noble was "an old acquaintance before the present disturbances arose and i had no reference, in styling myself his friend, to anything but his person. i did not mean that i was a friend to his principles." evidently there was a vein of humor in mr. perley's character. he is said to have declined a second election to the house of assembly of n. s., after having served one term. the chaplain's prayer, "prevent us, o lord, in all our doings," etc., he construed to mean, "we should be prevented from doing the half we do there." israel perley died at maugerville in in the rd year of his age. oliver perley, who was his brother, came to the river st. john in january, , in company with jacob barker, jr., zebulun esty, humphrey pickard and david burbank, as passengers in a schooner belonging to hazen, simonds & white. his wife was a palmer, whom he married at newburyport. in common with the majority of their neighbors they were inclined to sympathize with the new england "rebels" at the outbreak of the american revolution, and the name of oliver perley appears as one of the "rebel" committee appointed at the meeting held at maugerville in may, . soon after the peace, in , he is said to have removed to newburyport, at the solicitation of his wife, but they found so little to admire in the squabbles that prevailed between the followers of adams and jefferson that they soon returned to the river st. john declaring that the americans were "cursed with liberty." one of oliver perley's sons, solomon, was married by rev. john beardsley, march , , to elizabeth pickard; another son, moses, was married by the same clergyman, march , , to his cousin mary, daughter of israel perley. this moses perley and his wife were members of the church of england and their son moses h. perley was eminent in the history of his native province. amos perley, another son of oliver perley seems to have inherited some poetical taste from the palmers, and is credited with the following amongst other rhymes:-- "wrapt in dark mantles of the night was bonnel when he took his flight; elijah-like he tried to fly to the bright mansions in the sky. but snow was scarce and sleighing bad, and poor success our deacon had; for lo! his chariot, as you see, is lodged in this old willow tree." the incident that gave rise to this effusion was a practical joke played on a pious itinerant preacher, whose sleigh the maugerville boys had hoisted into the forks of a large willow. the family of oliver perley lived at the spot now known as mcgowan's wharf. asa perley, another of the early maugerville settlers lived at the head of oromocto island in upper maugerville. the descendants of the perleys in the province are so numerous and so highly respected that it will be needless to try to follow further their history. peabody. the founder of the peabody family in america was lieutenant francis peabody of st. albans, herefordshire, england, who came to america in april, , in the ship "planter," capt. nicholas travice. the same vessel brought the first of the perleys, beardsleys and lawrences to this continent. lieut. francis peabody was then about years old. he lived a year or two at lynn, mass., and then removed to hampton in old norfolk county, where he married a daughter of reginald forster and had a family of seven sons and six daughters. captain francis peabody, who came to the st. john river in , as a prime mover in the establishment of the township of maugerville, seems to have been a native of rowley. by reason of his rank and character, and the active part he took in the settlement of the river st. john, he may justly be regarded as the most influential person on the river while he lived. he served with honor in the old french war, and is mentioned in parkman's "wolfe and montcalm," (vol.i., p. .) he was one of the magistrates appointed under the first commission of the peace for the county of sunbury, august th, , and was the first collector of customs at the river st. john. the names of richard, samuel, stephen and oliver peabody appear in the list of maugerville grantees of . of these richard was a brother of captain francis peabody[ ] and seems not to have become a permanent settler; the others were sons of capt. peabody. samuel the eldest, has been frequently referred to in these chapters. he was a man of parts--a farmer, surveyor, mast contractor, ship-builder, trader and mill owner. he died at his residence, parish of lincoln, in , at the age of years. descendants of stephen peabody lived for some years in the parish of st. mary's, york county. francis peabody, the third son, went to miramichi where he became a prosperous merchant and a very influential citizen. the youngest son, oliver, married, dec. , , hulda tapley of maugerville, removing to woodstock, n. b., with his family about , where his descendants still reside and are enterprising and successful farmers. oliver peabody died in , but his widow survived for more than thirty years. mary peabody, wife of captain francis peabody, lived to quite a ripe old age; she died on the nd december, , aged years. [ ] nathan frazier of andover, essex co., mass., merchant, on th october, , delivered sundry articles--such as crockery, sugar, spices, cloth goods, etc., to richard peabody "for his brother, capt. francis peabody." the articles amounted in value to £ . . , old currency, and richard peabody gave his note for this amt. captain peabody's was the first will admitted to probate in the county of sunbury. it is a document of sufficient historic interest to be quoted in full. and here it may be well to state that in the year of grace, , a will was made out in more solemn form than is the case in modern times. as a rule it was read immediately after the funeral, in the presence of kith and kin, and rarely were its provisions disputed. captain peabody mentions his daughter heprabeth in his will; she married jonathan leavitt about the year . in the name of god. amen. i, francis peabody, of maugerville in the county of sunbury and province of nova scotia, being thro' the abundant goodness of god, though weak in body, yet of a sound and perfect understanding and memory, do constitute this my last will and testament, and desire it may be received by all as such. first, i most humbly bequeath my soul to god my maker, beseeching his most gracious acceptance of it through the all-sufficient merits of my redeemer, jesus christ. i give my body to the earth from whence it was taken, in full assurance of its resurrection from hence at the last day. as for my burial i desire it may be decent, at the discretion of my dear wife and executors hereafter named. as to my worldly estate i will, and positively order, that all my just debts be paid first. i give my dear and loving wife one third part of all my estate in nova scotia, real and personal, (excepting my wearing apparel), and one third part of my land in middleton and rowley and canada, and the use of two hundred dollars now in new england, during her natural life, and the principal if necessity calls for it. item, to my son samuel i give one-fourth part of all my lands not yet disposed of, excepting the land on oromocto island, and all the money i have in new england, except two hundred dollars given his mother, his paying all my just debts in new england, and fifteen dollars to his sister elizabeth white, and two dollars and a half to his sister hannah simonds, and one hundred and fifty dollars to his sister heprabeth on her marriage day. item, to my son stephen i give the same quantity of lands as i gave to my son samuel, his paying the same sums to his three sisters as ordered for his brother samuel to pay. item, to my son francis i give one half of my lands not yet disposed of. item, to my son oliver i give all my lands not yet disposed of. item, i give to my daughter elizabeth white thirty dollars, to be paid by my two eldest sons in household goods. item, to my daughter hannah simonds five dollars, to be paid by my two eldest sons. item, to my daughter heprabeth i give three hundred dollars to be paid by my two eldest sons in household goods on the day of her marriage. as to my household goods and furniture i leave to the discretion of my loving wife to dispose of, excepting my sword, which i give to my son samuel. i appoint my dear wife and my son samuel executors of this my last will and testament. as witness my hand, francis peabody, sr. delivered this twenty-sixth day of october, the year of our lord ; in presence of us: israel kinney, alexander tapley, phinehas nevers. this will was proved, approved and registered this th day of june, . benjamin atherton, reg'r. jas. simonds, j. probates. barker. there were three of this name among the original grantees of maugerville, jacob barker, jacob barker, jr., and thomas barker. all were natives of rowley. they settled near one another in what is now upper sheffield, just above the sheffield academy, having as near neighbors john wasson, isaac stickney, humphrey pickard, samuel tapley and several members of the burpee family. jacob barker, sr., served as an officer in one of the massachusetts regiments in the old french war, and after his arrival at the river st. john was a leading man in the affairs of church and state. he presided as moderator at important church meetings and was one of the ruling elders. he was also one of the early magistrates of the county. at the outbreak of the american revolution his sympathies were with the revolutionary party, and his son jacob barker, jr., was termed by major studholme "a bitter rebel." the father presided as chairman of the famous meeting held at maugerville on the th, may, , at which resolutions hostile to great britain were adopted. he regained the confidence of the authorities of nova scotia, however, for we find that on the rd of august, , lieut.-governor sir andrew snape hamond made a grant of , acres on the oromocto river to william hazen, james white, jacob barker and tamberlane campbell, as disbanded provincial officers who had served the king in the late french war. thomas barker and his neighbor, richard estey, jr., owned the first mill in the township. this they sold to james woodman in . thomas barker also owned and improved a tract of land in the township of burton. he died shortly before the arrival of the loyalists. jacob barker, jr., came to maugerville from new england in january, , along with oliver perley, zebulon estey, david burbank, humphrey pickard and others, in the schooner "wilmot." he paid passage and freight amounting to £ . . ; and s. d. for his "clubb of cyder on the passage." on november , , jacob barker, jr., paid the sum of £ . s. to giles tidmarsh of the island of grenada, planter, for half of lot no. in the township of maugerville, comprising about acres. giles tidmarsh lived for a while at maugerville and was one of the original grantees of the township. among the decendants of jacob barker may be mentioned thos. b. barker, who was born in sheffield in and came to st. john in , where he was associated in the drug business with the late sir leonard tilley, and eventually became the head of the firm of t. b. barker & sons. the hon. frederic e. barker, judge of the supreme court, is also a descendant of jacob barker and a native of sheffield. atherton. benjamin atherton, the first english speaking settler at st. anns, was born in lancaster, massachusetts, december , . his acquaintance with nova scotia dates back to the time of the acadian expulsion, when as a young man of less than twenty years of age he enlisted in captain willard's company in lieut. colonel scott's battalion of massachusetts troops. he sailed from boston on the th of may, , in the sloop "victory," and served a year in nova scotia under colonel john winslow. in the year , by arrangement with james simonds, benjamin atherton settled at st. anns point, where he established a trading post near the site of government house, fredericton. the position of a trader on the outskirts of civilization, in the vicinity of aukpaque, the largest indian village on the st. john, required tact and courage, but mr. atherton was equal to the emergency. in , when the loyalists arrived, he had at st. anns "a good framed house and log barn, and about thirty acres of land cleared--partly by the french." on march th, , benjamin atherton married abigail mooers of maugerville. she was a daughter of peter mooers and a sister of mrs. israel perley. at the time of her marriage she was a girl of seventeen. she died at prince william, n. b., june th, , at the great age of years. by exchange with government benjamin atherton acquired a valuable property in prince william in lieu of his lands at the upper end of fredericton. his place in prince william was well known to travellers of later days as an inn kept by one of his descendants, israel atherton, for many years. benjamin atherton was a man of excellent education. he filled the offices of clerk of the peace and registrar of the old county of sunbury when it formed part of nova scotia; a little later he was a coroner. the old prayer book from which he used to read prayers on sunday for the benefit of his assembled neighbors in the absence of a clergyman, is still in existence. benjamin atherton died june th, , and his ashes rest beside those of his wife in the little burial ground in lower prince william, hard by "peter smith creek." his descendants are numerous and widely scattered; among the number is dr. a. b. atherton, the well known physician and surgeon of fredericton. garrison. joseph garrison was born in massachusetts in and came to the river st. john as one of the pioneer settlers. he married in , mary palmer, who was born in byfield, mass., in , and who was most probably a daughter of daniel palmer, sr., his next door neighbor at maugerville. whether the marriage ceremony was performed at the river st. john or in new england the writer of this history is unable to say; but if at the former place it was probably celebrated after the fashion described in the following document:-- "maugerville, february , . "in the presence of almighty god and this congregation, gervas say and anna russell, inhabitants of the above said township, enter into marriage covenant lawfully to dwell together in the fear of god the remaining part of our lives to perform all the duties necessary betwixt husband and wife as witness our hands. gervas say, anna say. (witnesses.) daniel palmer, fran's peabody, sam'l whitney, richard estey, george hayward, david palmer, edw'd coy." the respectability of the witnesses, and the solemn terms of this marriage covenant, suffice to show that marriages thus solemnized were regarded as perfectly regular, and it is probable that in the absence of a minister competent to perform the ceremony this was the ordinary mode of marriage.[ ] it will be noticed that daniel palmer, whose daughter mary had married joseph garrison a little before this time, was the first witness to the marriage covenant of gervas say and anna russell. [ ] see dr. hannay's sketch of the township of maugerville; n. b. hist. society collections, vol. i., p. . joseph garrison's lot in the township was no. , opposite the foot of middle island in upper sheffield. his father-in-law daniel palmer and his brothers-in-law daniel palmer jr., and abijah palmer were his nearest neighbors. his third son, abijah garrison, born in the year , married fanny lloyd who was born on deer island, near st. andrews, in . their youngest son, william lloyd garrison, was the celebrated advocate of the abolition of slavery. joseph garrison is said to have been the first of the settlers to engage in mining coal at grand lake. the coal was shipped to new england on board one of the vessels of simonds & white. his name occurs among the first customers in their books after the establishment of their trading post at the mouth of the river in , and he had frequent business transactions with the firm.[ ] [ ] see page of this history. coy. the progenitor of those of this name now living in the province was edward coy, who came to the river st. john from pomfret in connecticut in . the name was originally mccoy; but the "mc." was dropped by edward coy's grandfather and was not again resumed by his descendants. by his wife, whose maiden name was amy titus, mr. coy had a family of six sons and five daughters. his third daughter was the first female child born of english or american parents on the river st. john. the well known inlet on the river, called "the mistake," was originally called "coy's mistake," the name doubtless suggests by the circumstance of coy's mistaking the channel in ascending the river, and after proceeding some miles finding himself in a "cul de sac." edward coy was one of the original grantees of maugerville, his lot being opposite the head of gilbert's island, but for some years he lived at gagetown, where his daughter mary was born in . this daughter published in a narrative of her life and christian experience, including extracts from her diary and correspondence during a period of upwards of sixty years. it is a curious and interesting old book. edward coy was an active member of the congregational church and one of the signers of the original church covenant. as the children of the family grew up, mrs. bradley informs us, their parents instructed them in the ways of religion, furnishing them with such education as their situation and circumstances admitted, which was little more than they learned at home, except in the case of the two youngest. the early years of the family were rendered more arduous by reason of ill health on the part of the mother and failing sight on the part of the father. edward coy settled at upper gagetown under arrangements with col. wm. spry, who gave him (july , ,) a lease of acres of land. under the terms of the lease coy was to pay at the expiration of two years shillings per annum, and at the expiration of four years shillings per annum for ever. this was not a very large rental for a farm of acres, but the tenant system was never popular on the st. john. mr. coy was required to "leave a row of trees on each side of the high road, thereafter to be laid out, at the distance of about six rods from each other." about this time he sold his lands in maugerville to moses coburn. at the outbreak of the revolution the attitude of the indians was so threatening, and reports of the lawlessness of privateers so alarming, that mr. coy removed his family once more to sheffield, which was then by far the most thickly settled place on the river. he attended the meeting held on the th may, , at which resolutions strongly favoring the cause of the colonies in rebellion were adopted, and was appointed one of the "rebel committee." his son amasa went in arms with jonathan eddy against fort cumberland. both father and son, however, subsequently took the oath of allegiance to the king and were thenceforth loyal subjects. the family returned to gagetown in a few years, the public mind having become more settled respecting the american war. mrs. bradley, in her narrative, gives a good description of the general interest and excitement created in the spring of , by the coming of the celebrated new-light preacher and evangelist, henry alline, which made an indelible impression on her mind, although she was only a child at the time. shortly afterwards the small-pox broke out in the settlements, and edward coy determined to have his family "inoculated." inoculation, it may be observed, was regarded as the best preventative of small-pox before vaccination was introduced by dr. jenner. the results, however, were not uniformly satisfactory. in the case of the coy family, mr. coy and his wife lay at the point of death for a considerable time, and their second son, aged years, died.[ ] [ ] rev. jacob bailey writes regarding an epidemic of smallpox at annapolis in . "what is somewhat remarkable, numbers died under inoculation, while the old sexton who took it in the natural way, though years of age, recovered." when the loyalists arrived in edward coy was living in a log house on his lot at upper gagetown where he had cleared about acres of land. the circumstances of the pioneer settlers were still rather straitened, but the exiled loyalists were in a much more unfortunate condition. speaking of their distress, mrs. bradley says; "my heart was filled with pity and affection when i saw them in a strange land, without house or home, and many of them were sick and helpless. i often looked upon them when they passed by in boats in rainy weather and wished for them to call and refresh themselves and was glad when they did so." edward coy shared with a loyalist family the accommodation of his humble dwelling until they could provide themselves a shelter. estey. the ancestor of the esteys in america was jeffrey estey, an english puritan, who sought refuge in new england from the persecutions of old england. he was living at salem, mass., in , but removed later to long island, n. y., where he died in . his son, isaac estey, married mary towne, who was born in yarmouth, england, about . she was among the unfortunate witchcraft martyrs of salem in ; she wrote a remarkable letter to the judges and court denying the charges preferred against her. isaac estey was grandfather of richard estey who came to the st. john river with the maugerville colony. richard estey lived at rowley but he was born at topsfield, mass., the home of his parents and grand-parents. his wife was ruth fisk of ipswich, massachusetts. he was a member of the congregational church in rowley until he was dismissed to the church at st. john river in may, . among his children who were born at rowley and came to maugerville were the following:-- . richard estey, jr., born feb. , , married hannah hazen. . sarah estey, born oct. , , married thomas barker. . john estey, born about , married mary hart. . zebulon estey, born dec. , , married molly brawn and died oct. , . richard estey, sr., was one of the seven signers of the original church covenant at maugerville and served on important church committees. the esteys were well known and active men in the community, and were among the pioneers of milling on the st. john river. richard estey, jr., had a saw mill in , on what was then called numahael creek. his brother zebulon moved to upper gagetown about , where he built a grist mill--the first in that vicinity and used by farmers on both sides of the river. the committee sent by major studholme early in , to explore the river and report upon the state of settlement, mention the fact that zebulon had been settled about years on his location. he had built a house and grist mill and cleared about acres of land. he had a wife and children. the committee add:--"said estey is a good man, his character very loyal and we beg to recommend him to be confirmed in his possessions." moses, israel and amos estey, who were of a younger generation, removed from maugerville to the burton side of the river prior to , induced thereto in all probability, by the inconveniences consequent upon the spring freshets. zebulon estey was a ruling elder of the congregational church at maugerville in . through the ministry of the rev. joseph crandall, one of the fathers of the baptist denomination in the maritime provinces, a considerable number of the old congregationalists of waterborough and the vicinity were led to organize a baptist church. their leader, elijah estabrooks, was foremost in the movement, which was much aided by the unexpected conversion of the "old squire" zebulon estey to baptist principles. father crandall writes of that day: "nearly thirty candidates were baptized, and the meeting did not break up until the going down of the sun. it was truly solemn and delightful to hear the praises of the lord sung by great numbers of happy converts in boats returning home from the delightful scene. the work of that day i can never forget. the clear setting sun, the large expanse of unruffled water, the serenity of the atmosphere, the delightful notes of the feathered songsters, and the solemn sound of hymns sung by many happy voices, presented to me an emblem of the paradise of god. it seemed as though heaven had come down to earth, and that i was on the brink of the eternal world." of the church organized at waterborough in , elijah estabrooks became the pastor, edward coy and joseph estabrooks deacons, and zebulon estey clerk, "all by a unanimous vote." further particulars of the organization of this church, which was the first of the denomination in western new brunswick, will be found in dr. bill's history of the baptists. the esteys proved a prolific stock and their descendants on the river st. john are numerous. estabrooks. the first of this name in america is supposed to have been joseph estabrooks, who was born in enfield, middlesex county, england, and came to concord, new hampshire in . it is said that he had two brothers, one of whom, thomas, was at swansea in , but subsequently went to concord. elijah estabrooks, who settled on the river st. john, had in his lifetime many places of abode. he was probably a native of haverhill, massachusetts, where his son, of same name, was born in may, . the family came to halifax about the year , removing soon afterwards to cornwallis, and from thence to st. john. on the th october, , mr. estabrooks entered the employ of simonds & white. in he made an agreement with wm. hazen and james simonds to settle in the township of conway, near the mouth of the river, hazen and simonds guaranteeing him a deed of acres of land. an old return, or census, of the township, dated st august, , shows that mr. estabrooks' family included a wife, three sons and three daughters. he had cleared and improved seven acres of land and built a log house. his domestic animals were one cow, two young cattle and two hogs. before he had made more than a good beginning the revolutionary war brought everything to a stand. we learn from major studholme's report that elijah estabrooks was one of those who accompanied hugh quinton in the expedition against fort cumberland in , and shared in the discomfiture of the party. his predilection for the american cause did not save him from being molested by the "rebel privateers," and he was obliged in the spring of to remove his family from their exposed situation at the mouth of the river to the vicinity of gagetown. it is a little remarkable that elijah estabrooks and his immediate neighbors on the st. john should have come from cornwallis and other parts of nova scotia, although they were in the first instance natives of new england. they seem to have had no legitimate title to the lands on which they settled themselves, while awaiting the issue of the struggle between great britain and the colonies in rebellion. the arrival of the loyalists in rendered their situation exceedingly precarious. however, they were befriended by governor parr, who directed that such lots as were occupied by old inhabitants of the country (although the occupants might not have any legal claim) should not be appropriated by the loyalists until they had paid for the improvements made by those in possession. this policy was continued, after the formation of the province of new brunswick, by governor carleton and his council. a valuation of the improvements made at upper gagetown by robert lasky, robert lasky, jr., elijah estabrooks, sr., elias clark, arculus hammond, john richardson, samuel hersey, francis grant, moses clark, samuel kemble and benjamin boober was made by thomas hart, samuel upton and john hart. as the valuators were old settlers and neighbors, the interests of their friends were not likely to suffer at their hands. they placed the value of the buildings and improvements of the eleven individuals named above at £ . s. d. which was more than the loyalists who had drawn the locations were disposed to pay; consequently the old settlers remained in possession. the valuation put upon the house of elijah estabrooks, sr., was £ ; that of his "improvements" £ . elijah estabrooks, jr., was led by the visit of rev. henry alline, in , to connect himself with the church formed on "new-light" principles at waterborough, and a few years later he commenced preaching. in may, , he was baptized by rev. joseph crandall, and his example being followed by several others a small baptist church was constituted in waterborough of which mr. estabrooks was the pastor. several of the incidents of his ministry are related in rev. dr. bill's history of the baptists. during the years he labored in waterborough and the adjoining settlements he supported himself and his family by his own industry. he was held in universal esteem by persons of all denominations and all descriptions. today his descendants and those of his brothers are very numerous on the st. john river. darling. there were twenty-three proprietors of a township, which was originally called "amesbury" in honor of james amesbury, a halifax merchant, one of the grantees. among the few inhabitants of the township, prior to the arrival of the loyalists, mention may be made of benjamin darling, the first english speaking settler on the banks of the kennebecasis. mr. darling was born at marblehead, massachusetts, in , and came to the st. john river a few years before the war of the american revolution. he used to trade with the indians and became very friendly with the chief of a small village at nauwigewauk. here in early times the indians used to raise corn and tobacco. they were inclined to resent the intrusion of the whites into their domain but benjamin darling, after prolonged negotiation, obtained from the local chief possession of the island, the consideration offered and accepted being two bushels of corn, one barrel of flour, a grindstone, some powder and shot and sundry knives, hatchets and other implements. darling built himself a comfortable log dwelling, the upper part of which served as a store-room for goods for the indian trade. after his wife's death his daughter hannah became the housekeeper with a young girl friend as companion. the indians, though otherwise friendly enough, objected to all attempts to clear and till the land and would not even allow the young ladies to beautify their premises by the cultivation of flowers. on one occasion benjamin darling went in company with the indian chief to visit a beaver dam not far away. during their absence an indian entered the house with the avowed intention of taking one of the girls for his "squaw." there being no man about the premises the prospect was certainly alarming, but woman's wit proved equal to the emergency. as the intruder advanced to lay hands upon her hannah darling offered to go with him of her own free will, but immediately after leaving the house cleverly eluded the indian, slipped in again at the door and fastened it. the despicable savage advanced to the window with diabolical threats, whetted his knife before their eyes and finally seized a club to make forcible entry only to find himself confronted at the doorway by the plucky girl with a loaded musket in her hands. her spirit was now thoroughly aroused; she ordered him off the premises forthwith, and the indian after glancing at her determined face slunk away. the old chief was greatly incensed at this occurrence, and a day or two later the culprit was brought before the young woman with his hands tied, the chief demanding "shall we kill him?" to which she answered, "oh, no! let him go." he was thereupon chased out of the neighborhood and forbidden to return under penalty of death. hannah darling, the heroine of this spirited adventure, afterwards married christopher watson, and is said to have attained the wonderful age of years. gage. among the large land grants on the river st. john, passed in the year , was one of , acres to general thomas gage and nineteen other individuals, most of them residents of new york. the tract included the lower part of the parish of hampstead and the upper part of greenwich, extending in front along the river from about the foot of long island to jones' creek, a little below oak point. many of the original grantees were related by blood or marriage and the association was in its way a "family compact." general gage served in the seven years war in america and was commander-in-chief of the british forces at the battle of bunker hill. his wife was a daughter of peter kemble, president of the council of new jersey; stephen kemble and samuel kemble, who were proprietors of the township, also were her brothers.[ ] henry gage, son of general gage, although only a child of five years, was one of the proprietors.[ ] other proprietors were william, samuel and robert bayard; they were related to the kembles. the bayards were leading loyalists and among their descendants we have still with us dr. william bayard, the nestor of the practising physicians of the maritime provinces. archibald mccall, a wealthy merchant of philadelphia, was another proprietor; his wife, edith kemble, was a sister of stephen and samuel kemble. another notable proprietor was john watts, a member of the executive council of new york, a gentleman of wealth and reputation; his daughter married sir john johnson, who was also one of the associates in the grants. [ ] see jonas howe's interesting account of "kemble manor" in the new brunswick magazine of september, . [ ] henry gage served as lieutenant in the seventh regiment during the revolutionary war, and on the death of his uncle, viscount gage, inherited the family titles and estate in sussex, england. kemble. on the th of may, , fifteen of the original grantees, including general thomas gage, transferred their rights to stephen kemble[ ] for a very small consideration--ten pounds current money of the province of new york--and the grant was thenceforth known as the kemble manor. [ ] stephen kemble was born in at new brunswick in new jersey; was ensign in the th regiment under lord howe at ticonderoga in . in he became captain in the th or royal american regiment, major in and lieut.-colonel in . he was for a while deputy adjutant general of the forces in america, a position filled a little later by major john andre. col. kemble retired from active service in . he eventually returned to his native town of new brunswick in new jersey and died in the house where he was born, dec. , , in the nd year of his age. in the year col. kemble appointed joseph frederick wallet des-barres to act for him in the settlement of the manor, with power to substitute and appoint one or more agents. des-barres immediately named james simonds as his deputy; the duties of the latter are specified in the records of the old county of sunbury under the following heading: "instructions for carrying into execution the letter of attorney of stephen kemble, esq., to joseph frederick wallet des-barres, esq., to be observed by james simonds, esq., his substitute for this purpose specially appointed." under the instructions the manor was to be divided into one hundred lots of acres each, to be laid out in such a way as to allow communication with the river to as many settlers as possible. half the lots were offered at £ sterling each to purchasers or to tenants at a renewable lease of ten shillings per annum, but it was not until about the year that any effectual measures were taken for the settlement of the grant, the explanation probably being that mr. simonds and his partners were too much engaged in securing their own lands from forfeiture to pay much attention to those of col. kemble. however on the arrival of the loyalists a number of lots were speedily disposed of and by the efforts of ward chipman, who succeeded james simonds as agent, the greater part of the lands were saved from escheat. col. kemble visited the river st. john in . his correspondence with ward chipman relative to the improvement of the manor is of interest. the last of the lots on the river was sold in , and in the rear of the property, comprising about one half of the whole, was sold to nehemiah merritt, of st. john, for £ . sterling. another considerable grant in the year was that made to captain walter sterling of the royal navy, and nine others[ ], , acres at the foot of kingston peninsula, now known as "lands end." this tract was forfeited for non-fulfilment of the conditions of the grant. capt. walter sterling visited the river st. john in august, , and some business transactions with him are to be found in the old account books of hazen, simonds and white. [ ] the names of the associates in this grant were dorothy sterling, walter sterling, jr., christopher sterling, ann sterling, william sterling, andrew sterling, john ewer, walter ewer and john francis. glasier. another large grant of this period was known as "glasier's manor" (subsequently as "coffin's manor"), extending from brundage's point in the parish of westfield up the river to a point two or three miles above the nerepis. colonel glasier is believed to have made his headquarters during his sojourn on the river st. john at or near the site of fort boishebert at woodman's point. the nerepis stream was at one time known as "beaubear's river;" for example, in a description of the river st. john, written a little before the arrival of the loyalists, we have the following: "at the entrance of a small river called baubier's river or narrow piece [nerepis] the land a considerable distance back is good upland but no interval. the land up baubier's river for three miles, which was included in glasier's original grant, is good, both interval and upland. on baubier's river mills may be erected and there is some good timber. on baubier's point the salmon fishery is said to be the best on st. john's river." shortly after the arrival of the loyalists glasier's manor passed into the possession of general coffin, and was by him named alwyngton manor. before this transaction was consummated, however, glasier's manor had nearly shared the fate of other grants. elias hardy, a clever lawyer employed by the government to investigate the state of the old townships with a view to the forfeiture of lands vacant and unimproved, claimed that the manor was escheatable in part as not having been fully settled. it was shown, however, that nathaniel gallop and others had made improvements, built dwellings, barns and out-houses, but the indians had burned the houses and destroyed the crops and finally driven the settlers away. owing to the distracted state of the country at the time of the revolution, no settlement was practicable near the mouth of the river. governor parr used his influence in col. glasier's behalf, assuring him that every effort would be made to preserve his lands in view of his efforts to promote the settlement of the country. general coffin succeeded, after he had purchased the manor, in getting some valuable settlers to take up lands at the nerepis, among them capt. henry nase, a brother officer in the late king's american regiment, whose descendants still live at westfield. in the course of the first year's residence general coffin expended more than £ , sterling in improving his property. he built on the nerepis stream an excellent mill and displayed much enterprise in other ways. chapter xxix. at the close of the revolution--affairs civil and religious. after the establishment of major studholme's garrison at fort howe, in the fall of , the settlers on the river found adequate protection. the indians occasionally assumed a hostile attitude it is true, especially when they were stirred up by allan's emissaries from machias, but they were rather overawed by the proximity of the fort and were for the most part peacefully disposed. the privateers continued their depredations on the coast, but kept clear of fort howe. the condition of the settlers on the river had gradually improved and they were now able to live within themselves. money too began to circulate more freely, owing to the development of the masting industry. in several of the townships primitive grist and saw mills were to be found, and there was even a small tannery, owned and operated by one nathaniel churchill of gagetown. among the artificers of maugerville were sylvanus plummer, joiner and housewright; james woodman, shipwright; john crabtree, weaver; israel kenny, blacksmith; jonathan whipple, cooper; benjamin bailey, housewright; abel english, blacksmith. among the glimpses of portland point, during the closing year of the revolution, a rather interesting one is to be found in the diary of benjamin marston, a loyalist of marblehead, who visited the place in his vessel the "britannia" in the autumn of . an extract from his diary here follows:-- "friday, sept. --about a. m. arrived safely into st. john's river, went ashore and dined with mr. hazen whom i find to be every way the man i have ever heard him characterized. "saturday, sept. --dined with mr. hazen. sold him and mr. white some tobacco, wine and chocolate. mending sails today. wind blowing very hard at n. w. "sunday, sept. --am in hopes of having a convoy to annapolis, shall know more of it tomorrow; if one, shall wait for it. dined ashore at mr. hazen's. "monday, sept. --still waiting in hopes of a convoy and have some prospect of carrying garrison stores to annapolis, in that case shall have a party sufficient to keep off pirate boats. spent the day rambling about the country which hereabouts is very broken, barren and but little cultivated, but abounding in vast quantities of excellent limestone. fort howe is built on a single limestone--'tis a pretty large one. delivered mr. hazen his two hogsheads of tobacco, which i couldn't do before, we have had such blowing weather the two days past. "tuesday, sept. --dirty, rainy, wind at noon s. and s. s. w. "wednesday, sept. --waited till o'clock at noon to sail with the men of war and the mast ships." benjamin marston sold a portion of his cargo to hazen & white; but he found his stay at st. john very monotonous during the fortnight he was detained by contrary winds. he tried to break the monotony by the composition of the following rhyme, for which, under the circumstances, we are disposed to excuse him; it was st. john's first attempt in the poetical line and is as good as some that has been attempted since: "i'm almost sick and tired to death with staying in this lonesome place, where every day presents itself with just the same dull-looking face. oh! had i but some kind fair friend with whom to chat the hours away, i ne'er would care how blew the wind nor tedious should i think my stay. ah! that was once my happy lot when i with house and home was blest, i'd then a fair companion got with many female charms possesst. nor scantily did heaven shower down those gifts which render life a blessing, but did our cup with plenty crown, nor let us feel what was distressing. yes, dearest sally, thou wert fair, not only fair, but kind and good; sweetly together did we share the blessings heaven on us bestowed. till base rebellion did display her banners fair with false pretence, then kindly heaven took you away from evils which have happened since. and careless me, when i had lost of all my blessings far the best, did teach, and justly, to my cost, the worth of what i once possessed. 'tis often so--we do not prize the present good at its just rate, but gone, we see with other eyes what was its worth when 'tis too late. now one more verse, fair ladies nine, and there'll be one apiece for you; 'tis the way i sometimes spend my time when i have nothing else to do." the war of the revolution was practically ended on the th october, , when lord cornwallis surrendered his army to washington at yorktown, virginia, in the presence of the united french and american forces. from this date until the peace, the military operations were few and unimportant. major studholme continued quietly to maintain his post at fort howe. in addition to a strong detachment of his own corps, the royal fencible american regiment, he had a detachment of the th regiment, or young royal highland emigrants. among studholme's subordinate officers were lieutenants peter clinch, samuel denny street, ambrose sharman and constant connor, all of the royal fencible americans, and lieutenants laughlan maclane and hugh frazier of the young royal highland emigrants. lieut. clinch, according to family tradition, was born in ireland and educated at trinity college, dublin. he came to america before the outbreak of the revolution, was gazetted lieutenant in his regiment may , , and shortly afterwards appointed adjutant. he settled at st. george, n. b., after his regiment was disbanded, and among his neighbors were capt. philip baily and a number of officers, non-commissioned officers and private soldiers of the regiment. the difficulties with which they were confronted on their arrival at st. george are thus described by one of mr. clinch's sons:-- "my father had charge of a party of soldiers, who were disbanded in and sent to colonize a howling wilderness--the most unfit employment they could be put to. the delay which took place in furnishing a vessel to convey them and their stores added much to their difficulties. it was not until the th of november that a landing was effected at the mouth of the magaguadavic, where there was neither house nor habitation of any kind to receive them; and so glad was the skipper of the vessel to get rid of such a disorderly and almost mutinous crew, that he sailed away the moment he got them landed. he was under some apprehension that they would insist on coming away with him again rather than land on such an inhospitable shore. that night my father slept in the open air and such a heavy fall of snow came that he had some difficulty in removing the blankets next morning." peter clinch, in , raised a company for the king's new brunswick regiment which he commanded. he was for some years a representative of charlotte county in the new brunswick legislature, and a man prominent in public affairs up to the time of his decease in . lieut. sam'l. denny street was born and educated in england and admitted an attorney and solicitor at law in the court of westminster. he came to america in , and enlisting as a volunteer was soon gazetted a lieutenant in the royal fencible american regiment. he obtained for general mclean the pilots who accompanied him on his successful expedition to penobscot, and was himself sent on several occasions from fort howe to penobscot on confidential services. on the th of april, , he was so unfortunate as to be betrayed by his guide, and was captured near machias with six of his men. he was sent to boston and put aboard the prison ship. anxious to retain the services of so useful and enterprising an officer, gen'l mclean on two occasions offered two "rebel" officers of superior rank in exchange, but in each instance the offer was declined, and it was learned afterwards that the failure was due to a memorial forwarded from machias by col. john allan representing that lieut. street was too dangerous a man to be set at liberty. after several months of irksome confinement lieut. street contrived, with the help of a fellow prisoner, to seize the "rebel sentinel" as he was pacing the deck one sultry night in august, without arousing the guard, who was asleep. having bound and gagged their man and possessed themselves of his weapons, they released the other prisoners, and with their assistance surprised and disarmed the guard consisting of a corporal and twelve men. one of street's men now swam ashore and brought off a boat in which they all embarked. the guard were landed on a small island. street and his party landed on the mainland and pushed through the woods to marblehead, but the day coming on they were so unfortunate as to fall in with a detachment of american troops by whom they were captured and conveyed to boston jail. street was now measured for irons but information having reached general mclean on this head he threatened to retaliate upon the american prisoners at halifax and the project was abandoned. after enduring for some time the prison fare, which street describes as "putrid and offensive," he made another unsuccessful attempt to escape. he was now sent once more aboard the prison ship. he contrived one dark night to lower himself from the cabin window, and with the tide at flood swam off undiscovered. after swimming a mile up the harbor he landed on shore and sought refuge at the house of an englishman whom he knew and by whose timely aid he returned in safety to the garrison at fort howe. samuel denny street was the first lawyer to practice his profession in this province. at the peace in he was employed as major studholme's assistant in the settlement of the loyalists on the st. john river. his descendants have filled conspicuous positions in the history of the province, both political and judicial. one son, george frederick street, was a judge of the supreme court, another, john ambrose street, was attorney general of the province and leader of the government and still another, william h. street, was mayor of the city of st. john. lieut. ambrose sharman filled a dual position, being surgeon of the garrison as well as a lieutenant. while he was at fort howe he had a variety of patients in addition to those of the garrison; for example, in , he rendered a bill amounting to £ . . "for attendance & medicines to pieree thomas & four other sick indians;" and again, august , , he presents his bill to james white "to inoculating self and family for smallpox, £ ." after the royal fencible american regiment was disbanded, dr. sharman settled in burton, sunbury county, along side his brother officer, samuel denny street. ten years later he was drowned while crossing the river to attend a sick call. three of his orphan children were provided for and educated by mr. street, who also named his seventh son john ambrose sharman, in honor of his former friend and comrade. in a former chapter some account has been already given of the first religious teachers on the river st. john. a few words may be added concerning the celebrated "new light" preacher, henry alline, who was at maugerville in and again in , and . a great deal has been written concerning this remarkable man, and widely divergent opinions have been expressed as to the value of his labors, though few are found to gainsay his sincerity, ability and zeal. rev. jacob bailey, the s. p. g. missionary at cornwallis and annapolis, terms him "a rambling teacher, who has made great commotions in this province." mr. bailey was a tory of the olden time, and strongly deprecated anything that chanced to be at variance with the sober ways of the church of england, which were then in vogue. in an old paper written about , still preserved by his descendants in nova scotia, we find the following from mr. bailey's pen:-- "this country is troubled with various sects of enthusiasts who agree in nothing except a frenzy of pious zeal and a most uncharitable spirit towards their unconverted neighbors, and a madness to introduce confusion, anarchy and nonsense into all the exercises of religion. * * he that is master of the strongest pair of lungs, and is able to exhibit the loudest and most doleful vociferation, is sure of prevailing success. those who perceive themselves deficient in point of noise endeavour to secure renown by the advancement and propagation of some new and singular opinion." in much the same strain sheriff walter bates of kings county writes:--"when i was first in maugerville in , i was informed of a preacher by the name of collins, who had been some time with them; that on account of some jealousy among them he soon after left, but another preacher named alline came, whose followers were called allinites. in sheffield and waterboro the people became divided into three sects, named after their own preachers: hartites, brooksites and hammonites, who were annually inspired by two travelling preachers from nova scotia."[ ] the sheriff had very little that was good to say of these evangelists, whose methods and doctrines he cordially disliked. [ ] the two preachers were in all probability rev. theodore s. harding and rev. joseph crandall. see dr. bill's history of the baptists, page . the people referred to as "brooksites" by sheriff bates were the founders of the baptist denomination in waterborough and canning, queens county, n. b., over whom rev. elijah estabrooks presided as teaching elder, with joseph e. brooks (or estabrooks) as deacon, and zebulon estey as clerk. an interesting account of the origin of this church is to be found in dr. bill's hist. of the baptists pp. - . another reference to the "hammonites" and "brooksites" will be found in the winslow papers, page . henry alline, the whitefield of nova scotia, was born at newport, rhode island, june , . he settled with his parents at talmouth, n. s., in . he was a preacher of fervid eloquence, which, as in the case of whitefield, few who came under its influence were able to resist. he was brought up a congregationalist, and from that denomination he never really separated, although he plunged into speculations on theological points in which, to quote the late dr. t. watson smith, "the import of the words of inspiration is often lost amidst the reveries of mysticism." one of the errors of new-light enthusiasm consisted in regarding mere animal impulses as leadings of the holy spirit, which must be followed at all hazards. henry alline was one of the best exponents of the new-light idea. he was a good singer as well as a fervid preacher, and in his sermons appealed to the feelings of his hearers. "the early new-light preachers," says dr. smith, "resembled their leader. such men, passing from settlement to settlement, as if impelled by a species of religious knight-errantry, could not fail to make an impression. viewed in themselves, the results of their visits were in certain cases painful. families were divided; neighbors became opposed to each other; pastors preached and published in vain endeavor to stem the tide, and failing submitted to the inevitable; old church organizations were broken down and new organizations set up in their places. * * to disturb the slumbers of the churches and arouse them to active effort seemed to be his vocation." his doctrines were distasteful to the presbyterians of his day, and were termed by one of their ministers, "a mixture of calvinism, antinomianism, and enthusiasm." it is certain, nevertheless, that henry alline stirred non-conformist nova scotia to its core. after his death the societies which he founded, as a rule, gradually became baptist churches, and in this way many of the most intelligent and influential new england families became members of that denomination. in the month of april, , henry alline left cornwallis in response to an invitation to go to the river st. john. on his arrival at maugerville he was cordially received by the people, who related to him the broken state of their church and deplored the darkness of the times. "when the sabbath came," he says, "i preached, and the lord was there, and took much hold of the people. the week ensuing i preached two lectures, and went from place to place, visiting the people and inquiring into their standing. o! it was a grief to see sincere christians thus scattered up and down the mountains like sheep having no shepherd; and the accuser of the brethern had sown much discord among the christians. there had been a church there, but the people had separated on account of the greatest part holding the minister to be an unconverted man, who afterwards went away, but the division still subsisted." mr. alline spent some weeks in the township, preaching often and visiting the people. by his advice they renewed their church covenant in the form following:-- "maugerville, june ye , year . "we who through the exceeding riches of the grace and patience of god do continue to be a professing church of christ being now assembled in the holy presence of god, in the name of the lord jesus christ after humble confession of our manifold breaches of the covenant, before the lord our god and earnest supplication for pardoning mercy through the blood of christ and deep acknowledgement of our great unworthiness to be the lord's covenant people, also acknowledging our own inability to keep covenant with god or to perform any spiritual duty unless the lord jesus do enable us thereto by his spiritual dwelling in us, and being awfully sensible that it is a dreadful thing for sinful dust and ashes personally to transact with the infinitely glorious majesty of heaven and earth. "we do in humble confidence of his gracious assistance and acceptance through christ; each one of us for ourselves and jointly as the church of the living god explicetly renew our covenant with god and one with another and after perusing the covenant on which this church was at first gathered, we do cordially adhear to the same, both in matters of faith and discipline; and whereas some provoking evils have crept in among us which has been the procuring causes of the divisions and calamitys that god has sent or permitted in this place, especially the neglect of a close walk with god and a watchfulness over our brother. we desire from our hearts to bewail it before the lord and humbly to entreat for pardoning mercy through the blood of the everlasting covenant, and we do heartily desire by god's grace to reform these evils or whatsoever else have provoked the eyes of god's glory among us." daniel palmer, jr., peter mooers, jabez nevers, moses coburn, benjm. brown, israel perly, daniel jewett, jacob barker,jr., asa perley, jonathan burpe, saml. whitney, daniel palmer, jacob palmer, humphrey pickard, edward coy. female members of the church. mary barker, jane pickard, abigail jewett, hannah coburn, lydia whitney, lydia jepheson, hannah noble, anna coy, elizbh. palmer. "the last sabbath i preached at st. john's river," continued mr. alline, "the people seemed so loth to go away, that we stopped at the meeting-house door, and sung and discoursed some time, and then i left them to go down the river." he preached at gagetown, encamped a night in the woods, and on the third day reached the mouth of the river where he preached at "mahogany." the next day was sunday and in the morning a boat came to take him to "the town"--or settlement at portland point--where he was to preach. evidently the people were disposed to hold aloof from his ministrations at this time, for he says, "o! the darkness of the place! * * i suppose there were upwards of people there come to the years of maturity, and i saw no signs of any christian excepting one soldier. yet although i was among such an irreligious people, the lord was kind to me, and i lacked for nothing while i was there." he returned to st. john in the latter part of august and preached on a sunday. major studholme treated him with civility, and sent him up the river in his own barge. he found the church prospering. there was much interest in religion; a good many new members having been added to the roll in his absence, three or four of them upwards of fifty years of age. two elders and two deacons were now appointed, and a formal call was extended to mr. alline to remain as their settled pastor. this call he did not see his way clear to accept, but promised to revisit them shortly. he got back to fort howe on the th of november, and preached there while awaiting a chance to cross the bay to annapolis. he returned to st. john, april , , staid a week and preached on sunday, after which he again went up the river. several weeks were devoted to visiting the various settlements and great interest was manifested, crowds of people attending his preaching. in his diary he tells us that much company went with him from place to place, some times six or seven boats loaded with people. edward coy's daughter mary (afterwards mrs. mary bradley) who was then a child in her ninth year, gives, in her book her recollections of henry alline's visit. "my parents," she says, "took me with them twice to meeting. the first text was, 'and at midnight there was a cry made, behold the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him.' my attention was arrested, and for many days after i was engaged in ruminating and repeating over some parts of the sermon. * * after the sermon and worship was over, i was astonished to see the people talking and shaking hands as i never before had witnessed. some looked of a cheerful, loving and happy countenance; others were in tears, and cast down. * * it soon became the common subject of conversation that such and such persons were converted." on mr. alline's return from maugerville to the mouth of the river he staid there a fortnight, waiting for a passage, and during that time preached and visited among the people. on june th he sailed to annapolis. two years later he again visited the river st. john. he left windsor on the th april and arrived at the mouth of the river in four days. "when i came to the river," he says, "the vessel did not go up that i was in, but god gave me speed, for there was another vessel just going over the falls to go up the river, so that without the least delay i crossed pot-ash[ ] and went immediately on board.... i remained on the river, preaching from place to place among the people almost every day, and often twice a day until the th of may, during which time i had happy days and much of the spirit of god moving among the people." on the last sunday of alline's stay at sheffield the concourse was so great that he preached in the open field. "i had so much to say to them," he writes, "and they seemed so loth to part that i was almost spent before we parted; and then i went ten miles down the river. but after i had refreshed the body, i preached again in the evening; and it was an evening much to be remembered." [ ] that is the portage to marble cove, or indiantown, above the falls. this portage is shown in champlain's plan of saint john. it was used by the indians long before the coming of the whites. mr. alline's opinion of the spiritual condition of the community in the vicinity of fort howe seems to have changed but little, for he writes under date, june th., , "when i came to the port at the mouth of the river, there appeared no passage from thence; and i thought i could not content myself long in that dark place; but the very next day four or five vessels came in, all bound for cumberland where i wanted to go." the story of alline's illness and death, which occurred in the town of northampton, new hampshire, february nd, , is pathetic in the extreme, but we must pass on. when rev. wm. black visited sheffield in the results of henry alline's labors were yet in evidence, and were not entirely acceptable to mr. black, who says that he found among the people "many new-lights, or more properly allinites--much wild fire and many wrong opinions." in the year , in answer to a petition from sheffield, the rev. james macgregor, a presbyterian minister of pictou, visited the river st. john, and has left us an entertaining account of his visit. he stopped at a house not far below the grand lake, where the following colloquy with the good woman of the house ensued. woman--who are you? doctor--i am james macgregor, a minister from pictou. woman--are you a methodist? doctor--no. woman--are you church of england? doctor--no. woman--then you must be a new-light. doctor--no, i am not a new-light. woman--then what in the world are you, for i do not know any more? doctor--i am a presbyterian. woman--well, i never saw a presbyterian minister before, but my mother used to tell me that they were the very best in the world. but what do you hold to? doctor--i do not understand what you mean. woman--do you hold to conversion? doctor--don't they all hold to conversion? woman--no, the methodists and new-lights holds to it, but the church of england holds against it. doctor macgregor was very hospitably entertained by squire burpee and his family, who informed him that they were a colony from new england, and that of course they were congregationalists in their religious profession. the doctor said that he had long wished to see one of their congregations and hoped that they were a fair sample of a new england church. the squire replied: "i am afraid that we are degenerated." mr. macgregor says, "i preached two sabbaths to them in a respectable place of worship, and to methodists and baptists. they heard with apparent attention and satisfaction. many of them stayed and conversed a good while after public worship was over." in the course of his missionary tour doctor macgregor visited the settlement on the river nashwaak founded by the disbanded soldiers of the nd regiment. not having been visited by a minister of their church for many years, a few of them had turned baptists and methodists, but "the best and worst of them," he says, "continued presbyterians." the glimpses we have of life at the mouth of the st. john, during the last two or three years of the revolutionary struggle, are of some local interest, though not of a thrilling or exciting character. the proximity of the garrison seems to have proved detrimental to the morals of some of the inhabitants. at least this is the inference we should draw from the following notice posted up by order of the chief magistrate of the community. notice. whereas complaint hath been made to me by the commanding officer of the king's troops at this place that several irregularities have lately been committed here by his troops, proceeding from the quantity of strong liquors sold them by the inhabitants: to prevent any disturbance for the future, i publickly forbid any person or persons at this place selling strong liquors, under the penalty of the law made and provided in such cases, except those who have licence or permits from authority for that purpose. given under my hand at fort howe this third day of july, . james white, j. p. the civil authority at this period was vested in the court of general sessions of the peace for the county of sunbury, which used to meet regularly at maugerville, and of which james simonds, james white, israel perley, gervas say and jacob barker, esquires, were members. one of the notices issued by order of the court was as follows:-- public notice. application having been made to the court of general quarter sessions of the peace, for the county of sunbury and province of nova scotia, held at maugerville on the second tuesday of october, a. d., , setting forth the necessity of having a publick house of entertainment kept near the harbour of the river st. johns:--therefore by virtue of the authority vested in the said court by the laws of the said province, licence is hereby given to philip newton to keep a publick house of entertainment and to retail spirituous liquors for the space of one year at the place aforesaid, he the said philip newton keeping and maintaining good order agreeable to the laws of this province. by order of the said court, benj. atherton, clerk peace. it is not improbable that philip newton, mentioned above, was a relative of hon. henry newton, member of the council of nova scotia, and collector of customs at halifax. his stay at st. john was evidently brief, and this is the only known reference to him. in the disturbed condition of affairs, consequent upon the revolution, had so far improved that st. john was made a port of entry, with james white as deputy collector, under henry newton of halifax. it was truly the day of small things with the future winter port of canada. the following is a list of the vessels that entered and cleared in the year . entered. tons. cleared. tons. rosanna rosanna betsy peggy escape betsy polly escape sally polly lark sally ranger lark prosperity ranger unity prosperity speedy unity little tom little tom --- monaguash total tonnage --- total tonnage the emoluments derived by james white from his office as deputy collector of customs were small. william hazen's position, as commissary of the garrison of fort howe, was something better. most of the supplies of fuel, meat and vegetables for the garrison were furnished by messrs. hazen & white, and the profits were considerable. in the year , for example, they furnished cords of firewood for which the price paid them was shillings a cord. an event was now to transpire which marks an epoch in the history of st. john and which in the course of a few months served to transform the little community at the mouth of the river from the dimensions of a hamlet to those of a respectable town. the war between great britain and the old colonies was over and the colonies had gained their independence. had they been wise they would, as dr. hannay well observes, have tempered their triumph with moderation. they would have encouraged those who had espoused the royal cause to remain and assist in building up the new nation which they had founded. instead of this, they committed one of the most stupendous acts of short sighted folly ever perpetrated by a people. they passed edicts of banishment against the persons, and acts of confiscation against the estates of the loyalists. they drove them out, poor in purse indeed, but rich in experience, determination, energy, education, intellect and the other qualities which build up states, and with their hearts fired and their energies stimulated with hatred of republicanism. they drove them out , strong to build up a rival nation at their very doors which perhaps would never have had an existence but for the rash folly of those who persecuted the loyalists. chapter xxx. the coming of the loyalists. the vanguard of the loyalists now began to make its appearance. captain simon baxter has a fair claim to be considered the pioneer loyalist of this province. he arrived at fort howe with his family in march, , in distressed circumstances, and was befriended by william hazen and james white, who recommended him to the favorable consideration of the authorities at halifax. captain baxter was a native of new hampshire. he was proscribed and banished on account of his loyalty, and had several narrow escapes at the hands of his "rebel countrymen." on one occasion he was condemned to be hanged, but upon being brought out to execution contrived to escape from his persecutors and fled for safety to burgoyne's army. his early arrival at st. john proved of substantial benefit to him, for on the th of august he obtained a grant of , acres, "as a reduced subaltern and as a refugee," in what is now the parish of norton, in kings county. his sons, william and benjamin, received acres each, along with their father. the important services of major gilfred studholme were also rewarded at this time by a grant of , acres on the kennebecasis river, just above captain baxter's land. two years later major studholme obtained a grant of a tract nearly three miles square, at apohaqui, to which he gave the name of studville. it was not without fore-thought and serious consideration that the loyalists came to the river st. john. several associations were formed at new york, in , to further the interests of those who proposed to settle in nova scotia. one of the associations had as its president, the rev. doctor seabury,[ ] and for its secretary, sampson salter blowers.[ ] it was under the arrangements made by this association that a great many of the loyalists of the spring fleet came to the st. john river. the document, which is published below, is well worthy of preservation by the descendants of those devoted men and women, who were induced by unshaken loyalty to seek refuge in a wilderness under its provisions. [ ] dr. seabury was consecrated first bishop of the episcopal church in the united states, november th, . [ ] sampson salter blowers was appointed chief justice of nova scotia in . he died in in his th year having outlived all his contemporaries. he was a man of wonderful vitality and is said never to have worn an overcoat. articles. of the settlement of nova scotia, made with the loyalists at new york, at the time of the peace of . "the reverend doctor samuel seabury, and lieutenant colonel b. thompson, of the kings american dragoons, having been appointed by the board of agents to wait on his excellency sir guy carleton, commander in chief, in behalf of the loyalists desirous of emigrating to nova scotia, they read the following rough proposals, as articles of supply for the settlers in nova scotia:-- st.--that they be provided with proper vessels and convoy to carry them, their horses and cattle, as near as possible to the place appointed for their settlement. nd.--that besides the provisions for the voyage, one year's provision be allowed them, or money to enable them to purchase. d.--that some allowance of warm clothing be made in proportion to the wants of each family. th.--that an allowance of medicines be granted, such as shall be thought necessary. th.--that pairs of millstones, necessary iron works for grist mills, and saws and other necessary articles for saw-mills, be granted them. th.--that a quantity of nails and spikes, hoes and axes, spades and shovels, plough irons, and such other farming utensils as shall appear necessary, be provided for them, and also a proportion of window glass. th.--that such a tract or tracts of land, free from disputed titles, and as conveniently situated as may be, be granted, surveyed and divided at the public cost, as shall afford from to acres of useful land to each family. th.--that over and above , acres in every township be allowed for the support of a clergyman, and , acres for the support of a school, and that these lands be unalienable for ever. th.--that a sufficient number of good musquets and cannon be allowed with a proper quantity of powder and ball for their use, to enable them to defend themselves against any hostile invasion; also a proportion of powder and lead for hunting. "his excellency the commander in chief, in reply, was pleased to say that in general he approved the above articles, and that at least the terms of settlement should be equivalent to them. he was pleased to say further that he should give every encouragement to the settlers in nova scotia, and that he would write to the governor of the province respecting the matter. he advised that some persons might be sent to examine the vacant lands and see where the settlement could be made to the best advantage. "we whose names are hereunto subscribed do agree to remove to the province of nova scotia, on the above encouragement, with our families, in full reliance on the future support of government, and under the patronage of the following gentlemen as our agents, they having been approved of as such by his majesty's commissioner for restoring peace, etc:--lieut. col. b. thompson, k. a. d; lieut. col. e. winslow, gen. muster-master provincial forces; major j. upham, k. a. d; rev. dr. samuel seabury, rev. john sayre, captain maudsley, amos botsford, esq., samuel cummings, esq., judge john wardle, esq., james peters, esq., frederick hauser." these terms were liberal and were afterwards considerably extended. the loyalists were allowed not only full provisions for the first year, but two-thirds of that allowance for the second year, and one third for the third year. in accordance with the prudent advice of sir guy carleton, it was decided to send agents to nova scotia immediately to explore the country and report upon it. the agents chosen were messrs. amos botsford, samuel cummings and frederick hauser. they were furnished with the following instructions. "that on their arrival in nova scotia they apply themselves to discover whether a tract or tracts of land free from all disputed titles, either with the indians or former grantees, can be found sufficient to accommodate the loyalists and their families who shall remove thither. "they will examine the soil, timber, game, limestone, rivers, bays, creeks, harbors, streams and ponds of water with regard to mills, fishing, trade, etc. they will examine the face of the country whether it be hilly, stoney, sandy, clayey, etc. "they will enquire what lands in the neighborhood are granted and to whom, whether the grants be forfeited, or whether they may be purchased and at what rate; and whether advantageous terms may not be made with the present proprietors. "they will endeavor to ascertain as near as they can what will be the difficulties and obstructions in forming new settlements, and what will be the probable advantages. "they will keep a journal of their proceedings and register their observations, noting well the distances from the principal settlements already made, and from noted rivers and harbors, as well as the obstructions in travelling and transporting. "such lands as may be obtained will be distributed and divided among the proposed adventurers in as just and equitable a manner as the nature of the case will admit, and the agents will make reports of their proceedings from time to time, as early as may be, to the secretary of the agency in new york." amos botsford, samuel cummings and frederick hauser arrived at annapolis royal on the th october, , in company with loyalists, who sailed from new york in nine transport ships. rev. jacob bailey, who was then living at annapolis, describes their arrival in one of his letters: "on saturday morning early, we were all surprized with the unexpected appearance of eleven sail of shipping, sailing by goat island and directing their course towards the town. about nine, two frigates came to anchor, and at ten the remainder, being transports, hauled close in by the king's wharf. on board this fleet were about refugees, who intend to settle in this province. they are a mixture from every province on the continent except georgia. yesterday they landed and our royal city of annapolis, which three days ago contained only souls, has now about inhabitants. you cannot be sensible what an amazing alteration this manoeuvre has occasioned. everything is alive, and both the townspeople and the soldiers are lost among the strangers. "all the houses and barracks are crowded and many are unable to procure any lodgings; most of these distressed people left large possessions in the rebellious colonies, and their sufferings on account of their loyalty and their present uncertain and destitute condition render them very affecting objects of compassion. three agents are dispatched to halifax to solicit lands from government." the agents on their return from halifax, at once set out to explore the country in the vicinity of annapolis; they then crossed the bay of fundy and arrived at st. john about the end of november. in the report, which they subsequently transmitted to their friends in new york, they write:-- "we found our passage up the river difficult, being too late to pass in boats, and not sufficiently frozen to bear. in this situation we left the river, and for a straight course steered by a compass thro' the woods,[ ] encamping out several nights in the course, and went as far as the oromocto, about seventy miles up the river, where is a block-house, a british post." "the st. john is a fine river, equal in magnitude to the connecticut or hudson. at the mouth of the river is a fine harbor, accessible at all seasons of the year--never frozen or obstructed by ice.... there are many settlers along the river upon the interval land, who get their living easily. the interval lies on the river and is a most fertile soil, annually matured by the overflowings of the river, and produces crops of all kinds with little labor, and vegetables in the greatest perfection, parsnips of great length, etc. they cut down the trees, burn the tops, put in a crop of wheat or indian corn, which yields a plentiful increase. these intervals would make the finest meadows. the up-lands produce wheat both of the summer and winter kinds, as well as indian corn. here are some wealthy farmers, having flocks of cattle. the greater part of the people, excepting the township of maugerville, are tenants, or seated on the bank without leave or licence, merely to get their living. for this reason they have not made such improvements as might otherwise have been expected, or as thorough farmers would have done.... immense quantities of limestone are found at fort howe, and at the mouth of the river. we also went up the kenebeccasis, a large branch of st. john's river, where is a large tract of interval and upland, which has never been granted; it is under a reserve, but we can have it. major studholme and capt. baxter, who explored the country, chose this place, and obtained a grant of , acres. on each side of this grant are large tracts of good land, convenient for navigation. a title for these lands may be procured sooner than for such as have been already granted, such as gage, conway, etc., which must be obtained by a regular process in the court of escheats. the lands on the river st. john are also sufficiently near the cod fishery in fundy bay, and perfectly secure against the indians and americans. the inhabitants are computed to be near one thousand men, able to bear arms. here is a county and court established, and the inhabitants at peace, and seem to experience no inconveniency from the war." [ ] frederick hauser, one of the agents, was a surveyor. a number of grants made to the loyalists were laid out by him. the popular idea of the landing of the loyalists at st. john is that on the th day of may, in the year , a fleet of some twenty vessels sailed into st. john harbor, having on board three thousand people, who, wearied with the long voyage, immediately disembarked and pitched their tents on the site of the present city of st. john--then called parrtown. the popular idea, however, is not strictly in accordance with the facts. the fleet arrived at st. john, not on the th, but on the th or th of may, and, according to the narrative of walter bates, there was no one day fixed for disembarkation. in the case of the "union," in which mr. bates and many of the founders of kingston came from new york, the passengers were allowed to remain on board until several of their number had gone up the river and selected a place for them to settle. in some cases, however, the passengers were "precipitated on shore." as regards the name parr (or partown) it was not given for months after the arrival of the loyalists, and was then applied only to that part of the city south of union street, on the east side of the harbor. the name was never very acceptable to the citizens. governor parr admitted that it originated "in female vanity;" from which observation we may assume that the name was suggested by madame parr. the name of parr was soon discarded, and the time-honored name, which goes back to the days of de monts and champlain was restored at the incorporation of the city on the th of may, . the names of the vessels of the spring fleet and of their respective masters, so far as they have been preserved, are as follows:--"union," consett wilson, master; "camel," wm. tinker, master; "cyrus," james turner, master; "sovereign," wm. stewart, master; "aurora," capt. jackson; "hope," capt. peacock; "otter," capt. burns; "emmett," capt. reed; "spring," capt. cadish; "ann," capt. clark; "bridgewater," capt. adnet; "favorite," capt. ellis; "commerce," capt. strong; "lord townsend," capt. hogg; "sally," capt. bell; and five others, "spencer," "thames," "william," "britain" and "king george," the names of whose masters are unknown. the loyalists who came to st. john in the first fleet numbered about , . they were mostly natives of rhode island, connecticut, new york and new jersey, who had been driven from their homes and forced to seek refuge within the british lines at new york, or on long island. there was a scarcity of ships, and the number of those desirous of emigrating to nova scotia proved much larger than had been anticipated. it became evident that the vessels must make repeated trips. the following paragraph from an old newspaper is interesting in this connection:-- new london, conn., april , . we hear that the loyalists destined for nova scotia from new york are to depart in two divisions; the first, consisting of about , men, women and children, are nearly ready to sail; the second to sail as soon as the vessels return which carry the first." this paragraph accords with what subsequently took place. the first fleet sailed from sandy hook, on the th april, arriving at st. john about the th of may; and the second fleet sailed from sandy hook on the th june, arriving at st. john on the th of the same month. the most authentic account of the voyage of the first fleet is to be found in the narrative of walter bates,[ ] who was a passenger on board the "union." we learn from this source that in the early part of april, , the rev. john sayre, one of the agents for settling the loyalists in nova scotia, visited those who were then living on the north shore of long island at eaton's neck, lloyd's neck and huntington, to inform them that the king had granted to those who did not incline to return to their former places of abode and would go to nova scotia, two hundred acres of land to each family and two years provisions, and provide ships to convey them as near as might be to a place of settlement. a public meeting was held at which the matter was considered in detail, and it was resolved by all present to remove with their families to nova scotia and settle together in some situation where they might enjoy the advantages of a church and school. mr. bates says that providence seemed to select for them the best ship and by far the best captain in the fleet. the captain received them on board "as father of a family," and took care that nothing in his power should be wanting to render them comfortable on the voyage. the "union" took on board her passengers at huntington bay. the embarkation began on april th and was completed in five days. the manifest of the ship has been preserved and is now in possession of j. t. allan dibblee of woodstock, n. b. (see collections of n. b. hist. society, vol. ii. p. ). it is signed by fyler dibblee, deputy agent in charge of the party. there were passengers in all, viz., men, women, children over ten, children under ten and servants. the ship sailed to the place of rendezvous near staten island. while waiting at new york for the other vessels, an interesting incident occurred, which (together with subsequent events) we shall let mr. bates tell in his own way:-- "having a couple on board wishing to be married, we call upon the reverend mr. leaming, who received us with much kindness and affection--most of us formerly of his congregation--who after the marriage reverently admonished us with his blessing, that we pay due regard to church and schools, as means to obtain the blessing of god upon our families and our industry. we embarked; next day the ship joined the fleet, and on the th day of april, , upwards of twenty sail of ships, under convoy, left sandy hook for nova scotia--from whence, after the pleasure of leading the whole fleet fourteen days, our good ship union arrived at partridge island before the fleet was come within sight. next day our ship was safely moored by capt. dan'l. leavitt, the pilot, in the most convenient situation for landing in the harbor of st. john, all in good health--where we remained comfortable on board ship (while others was sickly and precipitated on shore from other ships) which we proved a providential favor, until we could explore for a place in the wilderness suitable for our purpose of settlement. a boat was procured for the purpose. david pickett, israel hait, silas raymond and others proceeded sixty miles up the river st. john and report that the inhabitants were settled on interval lands by the river--that the high-lands had generally been burned by the indians, and there was no church or church minister in the country. they were informed of a tract of timbered land that had not been burned, on bellisle bay, about thirty miles from the harbor of st. john, which they had visited and viewed the situation favorable for our purpose of settlement. whereupon we all agreed (to proceed thither) and disembarked from on board the good ship union, and with capt. wilson's blessing embarked on board a small sloop all our baggage. the next morning with all our effects--women and children--set sail above the falls and arrived at bellisle bay before sunset. nothing but wilderness before our eyes, the women and children did not refrain from tears." [ ] see "kingston and the loyalists of ," in which walter bates' narrative is edited, with notes by the author of this history; published at st. john by barnes & co. in . those who are curious to know what kind of a passage their fore-fathers had on their voyage to the river st. john will be able to form some idea from a study of the following record of the weather, kept by benjamin marston, while he was engaged in laying out the town of shelburne. "may st, thursday--wind east; calm at night. may nd, friday--rain; wind south-westerly. may d, saturday--fair; wind north-westerly, fresh. may th, sunday--fair; wind north-westerly, fresh. may th, monday--fair; wind westerly, moderate. may th, tuesday--fair; wind easterly changing to southerly. may th, wednesday--fair; wind south-easterly. may th, thursday--fair; wind easterly. may th, friday--fair; wind easterly. may th, saturday--weather foggy and at times drizzly; wind south-easterly. may th, sunday--begins with plenty of rain; wind south-westerly, changes to foggy weather. at night wind south-easterly with frequent showers. the union had not long to wait until she was joined by her sister ships, and all lay safely anchored near the landing place at the upper cove. we may well believe that the arrival of such a multitude produced a profound sensation among the dwellers at portland point, then a mere hamlet. three hundred years have passed since champlain sailed up this same harbor and in honor of the day of its discovery, gave to st. john the name it still retains, but in all these centuries the most notable fleet that ever cast anchor in the port was the "spring fleet" of . the old iron guns of fort howe thundered out their salute as the score of vessels came up the harbor, the flag of britain streaming from the masthead, and we know that major studholme gave the wearied exiles a hearty welcome. the old soldier had held his post secure, in spite of hostile savages and lawless marauders, and he was now equally faithful in the discharge of his duty to his new comrades. he did his best to cheer their drooping spirits and as speedily as possible to settle them in habitations which they once more might call their own. there is a quiet spot in the parish of studholme, on the banks of the kennebecasis, where the mortal remains of gilfred studholme lie. no headstone marks his grave. little preparation had been made by the government of nova scotia for the reception of the loyalists, and the season was cold and backward. anxious as were the masters of the transports to return speedily to new york they were obliged to tarry some days. we learn from an old newspaper that the ship "camel," captain william tinker, sailed from st. john on her return voyage, the th of may, in company with eight other transports, and that they left the new settlers "in good health and spirits." before the loyalists could disembark, it was necessary to clear away the brushwood around the landing place and to erect tents and various kinds of shelter. the th of may saw them safely landed. the day was sunday, and it is said the hapless exiles found consolation in a religious service held by the rev. john beardsley on the site of the present market square. if abraham's fidelity to the almighty caused him on his arrival in the land he was to inherit, to erect an altar, it was equally fitting that the first public act of the founders of the city of the loyalists should be to render thanks for their preservation and safe arrival in the land of their adoption. the psalms for that th morning may have struck a responsive chord in many hearts. "comfort us again now after the time that thou hast afflicted us, and for the years wherein we have seen adversity." "establish the work of our hands upon us, yea, the work of our hands establish thou it." no friendly roof had yet been reared to shelter them from the storm. the wilderness had its unknown perils. perhaps too the dread of some lurking savage may have filled the hearts of the helpless ones with a nameless fear. still the message was--"he that dwelleth in the tabernacle of the most high shall lodge under the shadow of the almighty." "thou shalt not be afraid for any terror by night, nor for the arrow that flieth by day." the loyalists could not but feel relieved when they safely reached their destination. there were no light houses, or beacons, or fog horns to aid the navigator, and the charts were imperfect. the vessels were greatly over crowded and the accommodations not of the best. to add to the general discomfort, in some of the ships epidemics, such as measles, broke out. yet, glad as they were to be again on shore, it was with heavy hearts they watched the departure of the fleet. the grandmother of the late sir leonard tilley said to one of her descendants, "i climbed to the top of chipman's hill and watched the sails disappearing in the distance, and such a feeling of loneliness came over me that, although i had not shed a tear through all the war, i sat down on the damp moss with my baby in my lap and cried." the days that followed the arrival of the loyalists were busy days for major studholme and his assistant, samuel denny street.[ ] by their orders, boards, shingles, clapboards, bricks, etc., were distributed to those needing them. a large number of studholme's accounts in this connection are on file at halifax. the first in which the name of parr (parrtown) occurs is the following:-- "parr, on the river st. john, august, . "rec'd from gilfred studholme £ . . - for surveying , feet lumber for use of the loyalists settled on the river st. john. "jeremiah regan." [ ] amongst the documents at halifax relating to the settlement of the loyalists at st. john is the following receipt: river st. john, september, . "rec'd from gilfred studholme, esq. the sum of £ . . halifax currency for superintending his office for conducting the settlement of and issuing lumber to the loyalists within the district of st. john from the th may to th september, , both days included, at shillings pr. day for which i have signed three receipts of the same tenor and date. sam'l denny street. each loyalist on his arrival was provided with feet of boards, and a proportion of shingles and bricks. most of the erections at first were log houses, the lumber being used for roofing. by the end of may, , major studholme had delivered to the loyalists , , feet of boards, , , shingles and , clapboards. the lumber was purchased from james woodman, william hazen, nehemiah beckwith, patrick rogers, john whidden and others, the usual price being, for boards £ per m., and for shingles shillings per m. the work of building must have progressed rapidly, for when winter came, about , dwellings afforded shelter. joshua aplin wrote chief justice smith that the efforts of the people were unparalleled, and that on his arrival he could scarce credit his own eyes at the sight of such industry. but, he adds, the people had no legal right even to the ground their houses covered, and they appeared to be almost in despair at not getting on their lands. the greater part of those in the town at the mouth of the st. john river never meant to fix themselves there, but to settle on their lands and to apply their money to building farm houses, purchasing live stock, etc., and great loss had been incurred by their being obliged to build at the mouth of the river. the kingston settlers were amongst the few that proceeded directly to the lands on which they were to settle. for some weeks they lived in tents on the banks of kingston creek, where the mothers found occupation in nursing their children through the measles. they used to send across the river to "jones's" for milk and other necessaries. they were visited by the indians, with whom they established friendly relations and who furnished them plentifully with moose meat. in the month of july they obtained the services of frederick hauser to survey their land. before the lots were drawn by the settlers, however, reservations were made for church and school purposes. they then set to work with a will, working in one united party, clearing places on their lots for buildings, cutting logs, carrying them together with their own hands, having as yet neither cattle nor horses to draw them. by the month of november every man in the district found himself and his family covered under his own roof, and, according to walter bates, they were "perfectly, happy, contented and comfortable in their dwellings through the winter." in this respect they were fortunate indeed in comparison with those who passed their first winter in canvas tents at parrtown and st. anns. we must now speak of the arrival of the summer fleet of transports at the river st. john. almost everybody has heard of the spring and fall fleets, but comparatively few are aware that a very important contingent of loyalists came to st. john on the th of june. the late j. w. lawrence makes no mention of this summer fleet in his "foot-prints;" in fact nearly all of our local historians have ignored it. moses h. perley, in his well known lecture on early new brunswick history, mentions it very briefly. lorenzo sabine, in his loyalists of the american revolution, incidentally refers to the date of arrival. the reference occurs in the biographical sketch of john clarke, of rhode island, of whom we read:-- "at the peace, he settled at st. john. he arrived at that city on the th of june, , at which time only two log huts had been erected on its site. the government gave him and every other grantee feet of very ordinary boards towards covering their buildings. city lots sold in at from two to twenty dollars. he bought one for the price of executing the deed of conveyance and 'a treat.' mr. clarke was clerk of trinity church nearly years. he died at st. john in , in his ninety-fourth year, leaving numerous descendants." the loyalists who came in the summer fleet embarked at various places, some on long island, others at staten island and many at new york. in some instances embarkation had taken place three weeks prior to the departure of the ships from sandy hook. the delay in sailing was caused by difficulties attending the embarkation and getting the fleet together. the names of the vessels have been preserved in the following notice, printed in a new york paper:-- "notice to refugees. the following transports, viz. two sisters, hopewell, symetry, generous friends, bridgewater, thames, amity's production, tartar, duchess of gordon, littledale, william and mary, and free briton, which are to carry companies commanded by sylvanus whitney, joseph gorham, henry thomas, john forrester, thomas elms, john cock, joseph clarke, james hoyt, christopher benson, joseph forrester, thomas welch, oliver bourdet, asher dunham, abia. camp, peter berton, richard hill and moses pitcher, will certainly fall down on monday morning; it will therefore be absolutely necessary for the people who are appointed to go in these companies, to be all on board to-morrow evening. "new york, june th, ." of the seventeen companies whose captains are named above, those of christopher benson and richard hill went to annapolis, and that of moses pitcher, to shelburne; the others (with the possible exception of thomas welch's company) came to st. john. we learn from a document entitled "a return of the number of loyalists gone to st. john's river in nova scotia, as pr. returns left in the commissary general's office in new york" that the number enrolled in the various companies for provisions, etc., was as given below:-- men. women. children. servants. total. capt. s. whitney capt. j. goreham capt. h. thomas capt. j. forrester capt. thos. elms capt. john cock capt. j. clarke capt. jas. hoyt capt. jas. forrester capt. o. bourdet capt. a. dunham capt. abi. camp capt. p. berton --- --- --- --- ---- total if all who gave in their names to brook watson at the commissariat office actually embarked for st. john in the june fleet, it would appear that nearly two thousand persons were carried in that fleet. but it is not unlikely that some of those who gave in their names did not go at this time. among the papers in the archives at halifax, there is a copy of a "return of loyalists, etc., gone from new york to nova scotia as pr. returns in the commissary general's office." the original was compiled at new york, oct., , , by richard fitzpatrick, and at the bottom he adds the significant words--"the above is made from returns left in the commissary general's office, but it is probable the numbers actually gone will fall far short." the chief reason for supposing this to have been the case in regard to the summer fleet is the publication of the following official return, signed by sir guy carleton, in one of the newspapers of the day. return of refugees embarked for nova scotia. new york, th june, . men. women. children. servants. total. for st. john's river for annapolis royal for port roseway for fort cumberland --- --- ---- --- ---- total guy carleton. it may be safer to take the figures in sir guy carleton's list; but whichever list we take, the numbers are sufficient to make the arrival of the summer fleet a thing of considerable importance. the names of nearly all the captains of the companies of loyalists, who sailed in the fleet are found amongst the grantees of parrtown. the diary of sarah frost, who was a passenger to st. john in the ship "two sisters," throws much light upon the circumstances that attended the voyage. sarah (schofield) frost was the wife of william frost, a sturdy loyalist of stamford. he was proscribed and banished and threatened with death if he ever returned to connecticut. he did return, however, on the night of july , , accompanied by an armed party in seven boats. the boats were secreted and the party placed themselves in hiding in a swamp near the meeting house. the next day, which was sunday, they surprised and captured the minister, rev. dr. mather, and his entire congregation. a selection of the prisoners was quickly made, and forty-eight individuals were hurried away to the boats and taken across the sound to lloyd's neck, where they were greeted in no complimentary fashion by some of their old neighbors whom they had driven from their homes. twenty-four of the prisoners were allowed to go back to stamford on parole. the remainder, twenty-six in number, were sent to the provost prison in new york. dr. mather was one of those consigned to the provost, as a "leader of sedition." needless to say this exploit rendered wm. frost exceedingly obnoxious to the "patriots" of stamford. the parents of mrs. frost espoused the cause of the revolutionary party, and her's was one of those sad cases in which families were divided by the war. the extracts from her journal will enable the reader to have a good idea of some of the trials endured by those who left their old homes for the sake of the principles they cherished. "may , . i left lloyd's neck with my family and went on board the two sisters, commanded by captain brown, for a voyage to nova scotia with the rest of the loyalist sufferers. this evening the captain drank tea with us. he appears to be a very clever gentleman. we expect to sail as soon as the wind shall favor. we have very fair accommodation in the cabin, although it contains six families besides my own. there are two hundred and fifty passengers on board." a few days later the ships proceeded to new york, and then there followed an uncomfortable period of waiting. they hoped to have sailed on the th of june, having been already a fortnight on shipboard, but it was not until a week later that they got away. while at new york the passengers spent much of their time on shore, visiting their friends and making purchases of things needed on the voyage. mrs. frost had a touching interview with her father, who came in a boat from stamford to bid her farewell. she writes under date of monday, june th; "our women all came on board with their children, and there is great confusion in the cabin. we bear with it pretty well through the day, but at night one child cries in one place, and one in another, while we are getting them to bed. i think sometimes i will go crazy. there are so many of them, if they were still as common, there would be a great noise amongst them." two days later the ships weighed anchor and dropped down to staten island where they remained until sunday the th of june, when mrs. frost writes: "our ship is getting under way, i suppose for nova scotia. i hope for a good passage. about three o'clock we have a hard gale and a shower which drives us all below. about five o'clock we come to anchor within about six miles of the light house at sandy hook. how long we shall lie here i don't know. about six o'clock we had a terrible squall and hail stones fell as big as ounce balls. about sunset there was another squall and it hailed faster than before. mr. frost went out and gathered a mug full of hail stones, and in the evening we had a glass of punch made of it, and the ice was in it till we had drank the whole of it." "monday, june . we weighed anchor about half after five in the morning, with the wind north-nor'-west, and it blows very fresh. we passed the light house about half after seven. it is now half after nine and a signal has been fired for the ships all to lie to for the bridgewater, which seems to lag behind, i believe on account of some misfortune that happened to her yesterday.... it is now two o'clock and we have again got under way. we have been waiting for a ship to come from new york, and she has now overhauled us.[ ] we have a very light breeze now, but have at last got all our fleet together. we have thirteen ships, two brigs, one frigate belonging to our fleet. the frigate is our commodore's. it is now three o'clock, we are becalmed and the men are out fishing for mackerel. mr. miles has caught the first." [ ] it is a question whether or not the passengers of this ship are included in sir guy carleton's return of the th july, which appears at p. . "thursday, june . we are still steering eastward with a fine breeze. we make seven miles an hour the chief part of the day. about noon we shift our course and are steering north by east. at two o'clock the captain says we are miles from sandy hook, with the wind west-nor'-west. at six o'clock we saw a sail ahead. she crowded sail and put off from us, but our frigate knew how to talk to her, for at half past seven she gave her a shot which caused her to shorten sail and lie to. our captain looked with his spy glass; he told me she was a rebel brig; he saw her thirteen stripes. she was steering to the westward. the wind blows so high this evening, i am afraid to go to bed for fear of rolling out." "friday th. this morning our frigate fired a signal to shift our course to north-nor'-east. we have still fine weather and a fair wind. mr. emslie, the mate, tells me we are, at five in the afternoon, about miles from sandy hook. we begin to see the fog come on, for that is natural to this place. at six our commodore fired for the ships to lie to until those behind should come up. mr. emslie drank tea with mr. frost and myself. the fog comes on very thick this evening." "saturday, june . rose at o'clock. it was so foggy we could not see one ship belonging to the fleet. they rang their bells and fired guns all the morning to keep company. about half after ten the fog all went off, so that we saw the chief part of our fleet around us. at noon the fog came on again, but we could hear their bells all around us. this evening the captain showed mr. frost and me the map of the whole way we have come and the way we have yet to go. he told us we are miles from nova scotia at this time. it is so foggy we lost all our company tonight and we are entirely alone. "sunday, june . it is very foggy yet. no ship in sight now, nor any bells to be heard. towards noon we heard some guns fired from our fleet, but could not tell where they was. the fog was so thick we could not see ten rods, and the wind is so ahead that we have not made ten miles since yesterday noon. "monday, june . towards noon the fog goes off fast, and in the afternoon we could see several of our vessels; one came close alongside of us. mr. emslie says we are an hundred and forty miles from land now. in the evening the wind becomes fair, the fog seems to leave us and the sun looks very pleasant. mr. whitney and his wife, mr. frost and i, have been diverting ourselves with a few games of crib." the passengers had now become exceedingly weary of the voyage. the ships had lain buried in a dense fog, almost becalmed, for three days. an epidemic of measles, too, had broken out on board the "two sisters," and served to add to the anxiety and discomfort of the mothers. but a change for the better was at hand and mrs. frost continues her diary in a more cheerful strain. "thursday, june . this morning the sun appears very pleasant. we are now nigh the banks of cape sable. at nine o'clock we begin to see land. how pleased we are after being nine days out of sight of land to see it again. there is general rejoicing. at half past six we have twelve of our ships in sight. our captain told me just now we should be in the bay of fundy before morning. he says it is about one day's sail after we get into the bay to saint john's river. how i long to see that place though a strange land. i am tired of being on board ship, though we have as clever a captain as ever need to live. "friday, june . i got up this morning very early to look out. i can see land on both sides of us. about ten o'clock we passed annapolis. the wind died away. our people got their lines out to catch cod fish. about half after five john waterbury caught the first. "saturday, june . got up in the morning and found ourselves nigh to land on both sides. at half after nine our captain fired a gun for a pilot and soon after ten a pilot came on board, and a quarter after one our ship anchored off against fort howe in saint john's river. our people went on shore and brought on board pea vines with blossoms on them, gooseberries, spruce and grass, all of which grow wild. they say this is to be our city. our land is five and twenty miles up the river. we are to have here only a building, place feet wide and an hundred feet back. mr. frost has gone on shore in his whale boat to see how it looks. he returns soon bringing a fine salmon." "sunday, june . this morning it looks very pleasant. i am just going on shore with my children.... it is now afternoon and i have been on shore. it is i think the roughest land i ever saw.... we are all ordered to land tomorrow and not a shelter to go under." such is the simple story told by this good lady; the reader's imagination can fill in the details. at the time of mrs. frost's arrival she was a young matron of twenty-eight years. her daughter, hannah, born on july th., is said to have been the second female child born at parrtown. in the case of the june fleet, as of that which arrived in may, the captains of many of the transports seem to have been remarkably considerate for the welfare of their passengers. the "bridgewater," staid at st. john more than a fortnight before she sailed on her return voyage to new york, as we learn from the address presented to her captain by the loyalists who came in her. "to captain adnet, commander of the transport bridgewater. "the address of the loyalists, that came in the ship under your command, from new-york to st. john's river, nova-scotia. "your humanity, and the kindness and attention you have shewn to render as happy as possible each individual on board your ship, during the passage, and till their disembarkation, has filled our hearts with sentiments of the deepest gratitude, and merit the warmest return of acknowledgments and thanks, which we most sincerely desire you to accept. wishing you a prosperous voyage to your intended port, we are, your much obliged and very humble servants. signed by the particular desire, and in behalf of the whole. john holland, captain clarke, nathaniel dickinson. st. john's river, july , . vessels continued to arrive during the summer, each bearing its quota of loyal exiles. those who came were in nearly all cases enrolled in companies, and officers appointed, who were commissioned by sir guy carleton. several of the ships came repeatedly to st. john. the bridgewater, one of the spring fleet, came again in june, and made a third voyage in october. the cyrus, one of the spring fleet, arrived again on the th september, with passengers, whose names are given in the collections of the new brunswick historical society. the sovereign, one of the vessels of the spring fleet, came again in august, as we learn from the letter of thanks addressed to the captain by her passengers, which follows: "dear sir: your generosity, kindness and attention to us while on board your ship, and assistance lent us on landing our property from on board, demands our most warm acknowledgments: permit us therefore to return you that unfeigned thanks for all your goodness that feeling hearts can: and as your are about to leave us, accept of our most sincere wishes for your happiness and prosperity; and that you may have a safe and easy passage to new york is the sincere wish of, dear sir. (by request of the company.) your most obedient, humble servant, john menzies, capt. th company. st. john's river, aug. , . to capt. wm. stewart, ship sovereign." about this time the americans began to urge upon sir guy carleton the speedy evacuation of new york by the british forces. but sir guy was too good a friend of the loyalists to allow himself to be unduly hurried in the matter. he stated that the violence of the americans, since the cessation of hostilities, had greatly increased the number of loyalists who were obliged to look to him for escape from threatened destruction. that their fears had been augmented by the barbarous menaces of committees formed in various towns, cities and districts, which had threatened dire vengeance to any who ventured back to their former homes. he therefore adds, "i should show an indifference to the feelings of humanity, as well as to the honor and interest of the nation whom i serve, to leave any of the loyalists that are desirous to quit the country, a prey to the violence they conceive they have so much cause to apprehend." sir guy did his best to facilitate the emigration of all who desired to leave new york, and by his instructions the following notice was published. "city hall, new york, august , . "notice is hereby given to all loyalists within the lines, desirous to emigrate from this place before the final evacuation, that they must give in their names at the adjutant-general's office, on or before the st instant, and be ready to embark by the end of this month. "abijah willard." before the arrival of the date, mentioned in the notice, , names were entered at the adjutant-general's office for passages, and the evacuation proceeded as fast as the number of transports would admit. four weeks later another and more emphatic notice was issued. "city hall, new york, september , . the commissioners appointed to examine the claims of persons for passages from this place, give this notice to all loyalists, who have been recommended for passages to nova scotia; that ships are prepared to receive them on board, and it is expected they will embark on or before the twentieth instant. "and the board have authority further to declare. that if they neglect to embrace the opportunity now offered, they must not expect to be conveyed afterwards at the public expense. abijah willard." there can be little doubt that many who continued to linger at new york would gladly have returned to their former places of abode, but the experience of the few days who attempted it was too discouraging. here is an instance, as described by one of the american "patriots." "last week there came one of the dam'd refugees from new york to a place called wall-kill, in order to make a tarry with his parents. he was taken into custody immediately, his head and eye brows were shaved--tarred and feathered--a hog yoke put on his neck, and a cow bell thereon; upon his head a very high cap of feathers was set, well plum'd with soft tar, and a sheet of paper in front, with a man drawn with two faces, representing arnold and the devil's imps; and on the back of it a cow, with the refugee or tory driving her off." the forced migration of the loyalists was a source of much amusement to the whigs of that day. a parody on hamlet's soliloquy, "to be or not to be," was printed in the new jersey journal, under the title, the tory's soliloquy. it begins: "to go or not to go; that is the question, whether 'tis best to trust the inclement sky, that scowl's indignant, or the dreary bay of fundy and cape sable's rocks and shoals, and seek our new domain in scotia's wilds, barren and bare, or stay among the rebels, and by our stay rouse up their keenest rage." we have now to consider the circumstances under which the "fall fleet" came to st. john. after the cessation of hostilities, the violent temper manifested by the victorious americans caused the officers of the loyalist regiments to lay their case before sir guy carleton in a letter dated march , . they state, "that from the purest principles of loyalty and attachment to the british government they took up arms in his majesty's service, and, relying on the justice of their cause and the support of their sovereign and the british nation, they have persevered with unabated zeal through all the vicissitudes of a calamitous and unfortunate war.... that whatever stipulations may be made at the peace for the restoration of the property of the loyalists and permission for them to return home, yet, should the american provinces be severed from the british empire, it will be impossible for those who have served his majesty in arms in this war to remain in the country. the personal animosities that arose from civil dissensions have been so heightened by the blood that has been shed in the contest that the parties can never be reconciled." the letter goes on to speak of sacrifices of property and lucrative professions; of the anxiety felt for the future of wives and children; of the fidelity of the troops, who in the course of the contest had shown a degree of patience, fortitude and bravery almost without example; and of the great number of men incapacitated by wounds, many having helpless families who had seen better days. in conclusion they make the following request:-- "that grants of land may be made to them in some of his majesty's american provinces and that they may be assisted in making settlements, in order that they and their children may enjoy the benefit of british government. "that some permanent provision may be made for such of the non-commissioned officers and privates as have been disabled by wounds, and for the widows and orphans of deceased officers and soldiers. "that as a reward for their services the rank of the officers be made permanent in america, and that they be entitled to half pay upon the reduction of their regiments." the letter was signed by the commanders of fourteen loyalist regiments. the application of these officers received due recognition, and on the arrival of his majesty's orders and instructions to sir guy carleton, dated the th of june, it was decided that the kings american regiment, queens rangers, british legion, new york volunteers, loyal american regiment, new jersey volunteers, de lancey's brigade, prince of wales american regiment, pennsylvania loyalists, maryland loyalists, loyal american legion, king's american dragoons and one or two other corps, should hold themselves in readiness to embark for nova scotia, where on their arrival they were to be disbanded, unless any should chose to be discharged at new york. before the royal orders and instructions arrived in america the king's american dragoons had been sent to the mouth of the st. john river, under command of major daniel murray. they encamped at manawagonish, a little to the west of carleton heights, with the intention of making a settlement in the old township of conway. on the th of july, col. edward winslow wrote to major joshua upham, who had remained at new york as aide-de-camp to sir guy carleton: "i am gratified excessively at the situation and behaviour of your regiment. i never saw more cheerfulness and good humor than appears among the men. they are encamped on one of the pleasantest spots i ever beheld, and they are enjoying a great variety of what you (new) yorkers call luxuries--such as partridges, salmon, bass, trout, pigeons, etc. the whole regiment are this day employed in cutting and clearing a road to the river, and murray and i intend to ride tomorrow where man never rode before." the following day winslow wrote ward chipman, "i am at present at murray's head quarters in a township which we shall lay out for the provincials,[ ] and we have already cut a road from his camp to the river, about three miles. we cut yesterday, with about men, more than a mile through a forest hitherto deemed impenetrable. when we emerged from it, there opened a prospect superior to anything in the world i believe. a perfect view of the immense bay of fundy, on one side, and very extensive view of the river st. john's with the falls, grand bay and islands on the other--in front the fort, which is a beautiful object on a high hill, and all the settlements about the town, with the ships, boats, etc., in the harbor--'twas positively the most magnificent and romantic scene i ever beheld." [ ] meaning the loyalist regiments. the view from lancaster heights, which so delighted colonel winslow, proves equally charming to american tourists of the present generation. the stay of the king's american dragoons at "camp manawaugonish," however, was brief, for about the end of august they were sent up the st. john river to what is now the parish of prince william, where many of their descendants are to be found at the present day. the commander of the regiment was the celebrated sir benjamin thompson, better known as count rumford, who, by the way, never came to new brunswick; but other officers of the corps were prominent in our local affairs. major joshua upham was a judge of the supreme court. major daniel murray was for some years a member of the house of assembly for york county. chaplain jonathan odell was for years provincial secretary. surgeon adino paddock was a leading physician, and the progenitor of a long line of descendants, who practiced the healing art. lieutenant john davidson was a member for york county in the provincial legislature and a leading land surveyor in the early days of the country. lieutenant simeon jones was the ancestor of simeon jones, ex-mayor of st. john, and his well known family. quarter master edward sands was a leading merchant of the city of st. john. cornet arthur nicholson was a prominent man on the upper st. john in early times, and for a while commanded the military post at presquile. after the articles of peace had been signed, no serious effort was made to restrain the non-commissioned officers and men of the loyalist regiments from taking "french leave," and a good many of them left the service without the formality of a discharge. those who did so were of course marked on the roll as deserters; they remained, for the most part, in the states, and eventually returned to their former places of abode. others of the troops were formally discharged at new york. as a consequence the british american regiments that came to the st. john river were reduced to a fraction of their original strength. the number of those who came to st. john in the fall fleet, has been commonly stated as about three thousand souls. the returns of the commissary general's office in new york show that up to october th as many as , persons connected with the loyalist regiments had sailed to the river st. john, viz., men, women, children and servants. the following summer an enumeration was made by thomas knox of the disbanded troops settled on the st. john river. his return for the loyalist regiments gives a total of , persons, viz., men, women, children and servants. this does not differ very materially from the other return at new york, the difference being accounted for by the fact that a few of the men of these regiments left new york very late in the season, and consequently were not included in the return of th october. the official correspondence of sir guy carleton contains a pretty full account of the circumstances that attended the departure of the loyalist regiments and their subsequent arrival at st. john. during the summer months they had been encamped near newtown, long island, a short distance from brooklyn ferry. they embarked on the d of september, and sir guy carleton wrote to general fox, the commander in chief in nova scotia, that he hoped they would sail on the th of that month; but, as usual, unforseen delays prevented their departure until some days later. the command of the troops devolved on lieut. col. richard hewlett, of the d battalion of de lancey's brigade; lieut. col. gabriel de veber, of the prince of wales american regiment, was second in command. most of the senior officers were at this time in england, where they had gone to present to the british government their claims for compensation for losses consequent upon the war, and to press their claims for half-pay upon the disbanding of their regiments. sir guy carleton's instructions to lieut. col. hewlett are contained in the following letter. "new york, sep. , . "sir.--you are to take the command of the british american troops mentioned in the margin,[ ] which are to proceed to the river st. john's in the bay of fundy in nova scotia. on your arrival there you will see that the stores intended for them are duly delivered, and you will take such steps as shall be necessary for the several corps proceeding immediately to the places alloted for their settlement, where they are to be disbanded on their arrival, provided it does not exceed the th of october, on which day captain prevost, deputy inspector of british american forces, has directions to disband them.... you will give directions to the officer commanding each corps that, in case of separation, they will proceed on their arrival at the river st. john's in forwarding their respective corps to the places of their respective destination.... the debarkation of the troops must not on any account whatever be delayed, as the transports must return to this port with all possible dispatch. directions have been given to mr. colville, assistant agent of all small craft at the river st. john, to afford every assistance in his power to the corps in getting to the places of their destination, and the commanding officers of corps will make application to him for that purpose. [ ] the names of the corps found in the margin of the original letter are, queens rangers, kings american regiment, detachment of garrison battalion, new york volunteers, st de lanceys, nd de lanceys, loyal american regiment. nd do., d do., prince of wales american regiment, pennsylvania loyalists, maryland loyalists, american legion, guides and pioneers, detachment kings american dragoons, detachment north carolina volunteers. i am, etc., etc., guy carleton. the perils of navigation in the olden time are seen in the experience of the esther and the martha, two of the vessels of the fall fleet. the ships left sandy hook, on or about the th of september, and all went well until they arrived near the seal islands, off the south-west coast of nova scotia. here the esther, having on board colonel van buskirk's battalion of the new jersey volunteers, got out of her course and narrowly escaped destruction, reaching st. john several days after her sister ships. the martha, capt. willis, was even more unfortunate. she was wrecked on a ledge of rocks off the seal islands, afterwards known as "soldier's ledge." her passengers numbered persons and including a corps of maryland loyalists and part of col. hewlett's battalion of de lancey's brigade. of these perished and were saved by fishing boats. according to the account of captain patrick kennedy of the maryland loyalists, the accident was due to gross neglect. the master reported the previous evening that he had seen land, and everyone imagined he would lay to during the night, the weather being tempestuous. he had left new york with an old suit of sails and had not above twelve men and boys to work his ship. while they were engaged in rigging and setting up a new main topsail, to replace one that had gone to pieces early in the night, the ship struck. soon after the long boat was smashed by the fall of the mainmast. the cutter had already been launched. the captain now gave orders to launch the jolly boat and, to the surprise of everybody, having repeatedly proclaimed that he would be one of the last to leave the ship, he jumped into her as she went over the side, rowed to the cutter, got into her, and inhumanly pushed off for the shore. the empty jolly boat was turned adrift in full view of the unhappy people on board, the master turning a deaf ear to the solicitations of captain kennedy, who begged him to pull in toward the stern, in order to discuss some means of saving the lives of his passengers. another account of this tragedy has been preserved in the letter of lieut. michael laffan, of colonel hewlett's battalion, to his brother:-- st. johns, oct. , . dear brother.--yesterday evening i had the good fortune to arrive at this place. on the th of september, about o'clock in the morning, the "martha" struck against a rock off the tusket river near the bay of fundy, and was in the course of a few hours wrecked in a thousand pieces. i had the good fortune to get upon a piece of the wreck with three more officers, viz., lieut. henley, lieut. sterling, dr. stafford and two soldiers (all of the maryland loyalists) and floated on it two days and two nights up to near our waists in water, during which time lieut. sterling and one of the soldiers died. on the third day we drifted to an island where we lived without fire, water, victuals or clothing, except the remnants of what we had on, about one quart of water per man (which we sipped from the cavities in the rocks) and a few rasberries and snails. on the seventh day we were espied and taken up by a frenchman, that was out a fowling, who took us to his house and treated us with every kindness. we staid with him six days and then proceeded to a place called cape pursue, where we met with captain kennedy and about fifty of both regiments, who were saved at sea by some fishing boats, about hours from the time the vessel was wrecked. capt. doughty, lieut. mcfarlane, mrs. mcfarlane and ensign montgomery perished.... lieut. col. hewlett's letter to sir guy carleton, announcing the arrival of the fleet at its destined port, is brief and to the point: st. johns, bay of fundy, th september, . sir.--agreeable to your excellency's orders i have the honor to inform you that the troops under my command arrived at the river st. johns the th instant, except the ship "martha" with the maryland loyalists and part of the d batt'n de lancey's, and the ship "esther" with part of the jersey volunteers, of which ships no certain accounts were received since their sailings. this day a small party of the guides and pioneers are landed, which proceed from the falls up the river st. johns tomorrow, if the weather permits. i have given the necessary orders for the troops to disembark tomorrow and encamp just above the falls, from which place they shall be forwarded with all possible expedition to the place of their destination, but am much afraid the want of small craft will greatly prevent their dispatch. i have the honor to be sir, your most obedient, humble servant, richard hewlett, lt. col. on the th october col. hewlett informed sir guy carleton that the troops had all been disbanded by major augustin prevost, and were getting up the river as speedily as the scarcity of small craft for conveying them would admit. a large number of the officers and men of the disbanded regiments drew lots at parrtown, and many remained at the mouth of the river during the winter. george leonard, who was one of the chief directors of the settlement of the town, says that the lots at first laid out were divided and subdivided, on the arrival of almost every fleet, to accommodate the loyalists as they came. these proved to be so greatly in excess of what had been anticipated, that the lots of those who came at the first were reduced by degrees to one sixteenth part of their original dimensions. it was not until the th december that a complete plan of parrtown was prepared by paul bedell. meanwhile there had been much delay in laying out lands for settlement on the river st. john. colonel morse, of the royal engineers, gives a summary of the causes of the delay in placing the disbanded troops upon their lands: "first their arriving very late in the season; secondly, timely provision not having been made by escheating and laying out lands; thirdly, a sufficient number of surveyors not having been employed; but lastly and principally, the want of foresight and wisdom to make necessary arrangements, and steadiness in carrying them out." lieut. col. edward winslow, muster-master-general of the british american regiments, had been sent to nova scotia in the month of april to secure lands for the accommodation of the officers and men who wished to settle there. in this task he had the assistance of lieut. col. isaac allen, lieut. col. stephen de lancey and major thomas barclay. their instructions were to procure the lands required "in the most eligible and advantageous situation, paying strict regard to the quality of the soil." they decided to make application for the vacant lands on the river st. john, and the nova scotia government agreed that the provincial troops might be accommodated "near the source of that river, leaving the lower part to the refugees." lieut. colonel de lancey was greatly chagrined at this decision, and on the th july he wrote to winslow: "if what i am informed is true, we might better be all of us in new york. it is that conway, burton, etc., are to be given to the refugees, and that the lands to be given to the provincials are to commence at sunbury (or st. anne) and go northwest to canada or elsewhere.... this is so notorious a forfeiture of the faith of government that it appears to me almost incredible, and yet i fear it is not to be doubted. could we have known this a little earlier it would have saved you the trouble of exploring the country for the benefit of a people you are not connected with. in short it is a subject too disagreeable to say more upon." the decision to settle the loyalist regiment some distance up the river obliged the kings american dragoons to remove from lancaster, where they had at first pitched their tents. the intimation to move on came in the shape of a letter from gen'l fox's secretary, to major murray, their commanding officer. an extract follows: "it having been represented to brig'r. general fox that the king's american dragoons under your command cannot be enhutted at the place where they are at present encamped, without inconvenience to the great number of loyalists who are forming settlements at the mouth of the river st. john's, and he being also informed that his excellency the governor of this province has assigned a certain tract of land for the accommodation of the provincial regiments on the river st. john's, beginning at the eastern boundaries of the townships of sunbury and newtown, and extending up the river, i am directed to acquaint you that you have brigadier general fox's permission to remove the king's american dragoons to that part of the district which has been allotted to the regiment.... lieut. colonel morse, chief engineer, will, in consideration that your regiment may be exposed to peculiar inconveniences from being the first who are ordered to but on the river st. john's, forward to you such articles as he apprehends cannot be procured at that place." on the th september, gen'l fox wrote from annapolis, informing governor parr that the loyalist regiments embarking at new york were, by the commander in chief's express order, to be discharged as contiguous as possible to the lands on which they were to settle, and he accordingly asked the governor to determine the district each regiment was to settle, so that on their arrival they might proceed immediately to their respective destinations. up to this time no attempt had been made to lay out lands for the troops, save in the district of prince william for the king's american dragoons. there was, it is true, an order to reserve for the provincial regiments, a tract extending from the townships of maugerville and burton on both sides of the river on the route to canada as far as to accommodate the whole, but no survey had been made. about this time the hon. charles morris prepared a plan of the river in which the land not yet granted was laid out in blocks. these blocks were numbered and drawn for by the various regiments shortly after their arrival. but as the lines had not been run, nor any lots laid out for settlement the disbanded troops were in great perplexity. they knew not where to turn or what to do. extracts from the letters of two regimental commanders will show how they regarded the outlook. lieut. col. gabriel de veber, of the prince of wales american regiment, writes at parrtown on the th december. "i am still here, where i have built a small house for the present. i have not been up the river yet, indeed the block, no. , which our regiment has drawn, is so far up that i am totally discouraged. the numerous family i have demands some attention to the education of children. at such a distance they never can hope for any, and i should think myself highly culpable, were i not to endeavor to settle nearer to the metropolis, or to some place where i can attend to this necessary duty." major thomas menzies, of the loyal american legion, writes on march d, : "i drew block no for the corps under my command, which commences miles above st. anns, so that whatever becomes of me, it would be wildness to think of carrying my family there for the present." we get a glimpse of the distress and perplexity of the men of the loyal regiments in one of edward winslow's letters to ward chipman. "i saw all those provincial regiments, which we have so frequently mustered, landing in this inhospitable climate, in the month of october, without shelter and without knowing where to find a place to reside. the chagrin of the officers was not to me so truly affecting as the poignant distress of the men. those respectable sergeants of robinson's, ludlow's, cruger's, fanning's, etc.,--once hospitable yeomen of the country--were addressing me in language which almost murdered me as i heard it. 'sir, we have served all the war, your honor is witness how faithfully. we were promised land; we expected you had obtained it for us. we like the country--only let us have a spot of our own, and give us such kind of regulations as will hinder bad men from injuring us.'" a great many of the disbanded soldiers drew lots at parrtown in the lower cove district. some of them spent their first winter in canvas tents on the barrack square. they thatched their tents with spruce boughs, brought in boats from partridge island, and banked them with snow. owing to the cold weather and the coarseness of the provisions, salt meat, etc., the women and children suffered severely and numbers died. they were buried in an old graveyard near the present deep water terminus of the intercolonial railway. the last of the transports that sailed from new york to st. john, in addition to her passengers--mostly women and children--carried an assortment of clothing and provisions. the officer in charge was lieut. john ward of the loyal american regiment, grandfather of clarence ward, the well known secretary of the new brunswick historical society. there was not time to build even a hut, and mr. ward was obliged to spend his first winter in the country under canvas. his son, john ward, jr., was born in a tent on the barrack square, dec. , . the ward family were a sturdy stock and were noted for their longevity. the child born on the barrack square attained the age of years, and a younger son, charles ward, died in at the age of years. the father, lieut. john ward, was years of age when he died on the th august, . he was known in his later years as "the father of the city." at the semi-centennial of the landing of the loyalists he was honored with a seat on the left of the mayor, john m. wilmot, on whose, right sat sir archibald campbell the lieut. governor. on the th may, , the sixtieth anniversary of the landing of the loyalists, the corporation of the city waited on mr. ward, then aged years, at his residence, and presented him with an address. the officers of the artillery also presented an address in which they say: "we claim you with pride as one of the first officers of the corps to which we now have the honor to belong; and we hail you at the same time as one of the few survivors of that gallant band, who--surrendering all save the undying honor of their sacrifice--followed the standard of their sovereign to these shores, and whose landing we this day commemorate. that health and prosperity may be yours, and that the evening of your days may be as free from a cloud as your past life has been unspotted, is the sincere desire of the corps in whose behalf we have the honor to subscribe ourselves." the experience of the disbanded soldiers, who wintered with their families at st. anns, was even more trying than that of those who remained at parrtown. the month of october was cold and rainy, and those who went up the river in boats had a very miserable time of it. a few were fortunate enough to be admitted into the houses of the old settlers, but the vast majority were obliged to provide themselves a shelter from the approaching winter by building log and bark huts. at st. anns, where fredericton was afterwards built, there were only two english speaking settlers, benjamin atherton, who lived on the site of government house, and philip wade whose house stood on the river bank in front of the present cathedral. speaking of the hardships endured by the founders of fredericton, peter fisher observes: "scarcely had they begun to construct their cabins, when they were surprised by the rigors of an untried climate; their habitations being enveloped in snow before they were tenantable.... the privations and sufferings of some of these people almost exceed belief. frequently, in the piercing cold of winter, a part of the family had to remain up during the night to keep fire in their huts to prevent the other part from freezing. some very destitute families made use of boards to supply the want of bedding; the father or some of the elder children remaining up by turns, and warming two suitable pieces of boards, which they applied alternately to the smaller children to keep them warm; with many similar expedients." the awfulness of their situation may be readily imagined. women, delicately reared, cared for their infants beneath canvas tents, rendered habitable only by the banks of snow which lay six feet deep in the open spaces of the forest. men, unaccustomed to toil, looked with dismay at the prospect before them. the non-arrival of supplies expected before the close of navigation, added to their dire forebodings. at one time during the winter, starvation stared them in the face, and one who passed through the sorrowful experience of that time says: "strong proud men wept like children, and, exhausted by cold and famine, lay down in their snow bound tents to die." the poor settlers had to make frequent trips of from fifty to one hundred miles with hand-sleds or toboggans, through the wild woods and on the ice, to procure a precarious supply of food for their famishing families. among those who settled at st. anns at this time was lodewick fisher, who had seen nearly seven years service in col. van buskirk's battalion of the new jersey volunteers. this brave old loyalist came to st. john in the ship "esther," accompanied by his wife mary, and three children, eliza, henry and peter, all of whom were born on staten island during the war. peter, the youngest of the trio, was only months old at the time of his arrival and of course had no personal recollection of the experience of the first winter, but in his little history he has given some of the recollections of his elders which are of great interest. (it may be noted, in passing, that the eldest son of peter fisher, the hon. charles fisher, was attorney general of the province and later a judge of the supreme court; he was one of the fathers of responsible government and left his impress in the pages of our history.) much that is of great interest concerning the founders of fredericton has been gleaned from the reminiscences of mrs. lodewick fisher, which she used to relate in the hearing of her grand-children.[ ] from this source we learn that soon after the arrival of the loyalist regiments at st. john, her family joined a party bound up the river in a schooner to st. anns. in eight days they got to oromocto, where they were landed by the captain, who refused to proceed further on account of the lateness of the season. he charged them each four dollars for their passage. the night was spent on shore and the next day the women and children proceeded to st. anns in indian canoes, the others coming on foot. it was the th of october when they reached their destination, and pitched their tents at salamanca, near the shore. before any effectual steps had been taken to provide a shelter, winter was at hand. snow fell on the nd november to the depth of six inches. the best that some of the unfortunate people could do was to pitch their tents in the depths of the forest. stones were used for a rude fire place. the tent had no floor but the ground. the winter was very cold, with deep snow, which afforded some protection. still it was an awful winter. there were mothers who had been reared in a pleasant country, enjoying the luxuries of life, who now clasped their helpless little ones to their bosoms and tried by the warmth of their own bodies to protect them from the bitter cold. many of the weaker ones died from cold and exposure. graves were dug with axes and shovels near by, and there in stormy wintry weather, the survivors laid their loved ones. they had no minister, and they were buried without any religious service. the burial ground at salamanca, continued to be used for some years until it was nearly filled. they used to call it "the loyalist provincials burial ground." [ ] see "founders of fredericton," p. , dr. g. u. hay's canadian history readings. this old burial ground is on the ketchum place, just below the town. some of the older citizens of fredericton remember old head boards placed at the graves, since fallen into decay. many names that were painted or carved on them served to show the dutch ancestry of the men of van buskirk's battalion. the names were such as van horn, vanderbeck, ackermann, burkstaff, ridner, handorff, van norden, blaicker, blann, ryerson, etc. as soon as the snow was off the ground the people began to build log houses, but they were soon obliged to desist for want of provisions. there was again delay in sending supplies, and the settlers were forced to live after the indian fashion. they made maple sugar, dug edible roots, caught fish, shot partridges and pigeons and hunted moose. some who had planted a few potatoes had to dig them up again and eat them. in their distress these poor souls were gladdened by the discovery of large patches of beans that were found growing wild. the beans were white, marked with a black cross, and had probably been planted by the french. "in our joy at this discovery," said mrs. fisher, "we at first called them the royal provincial's bread; but afterwards the staff of life and hope of the starving." there was great rejoicing when at length a schooner arrived with corn-meal and rye. it was not during the first season only that the settlers at st. anns suffered for food, other seasons were nearly as bad. during the summer all hands united in the task of building log houses. they had few tools beside the axe and saw. they had neither bricks nor lime. chimneys and fire-places were built of stone, laid in yellow clay. the walls of the houses were of logs; the roofs of bark bound over with small poles. the windows had only four small panes of glass. the first house finished was that of dr. earle, whose services in a variety of ways were of the utmost value to the little community. lieut. col. hewlett's house was built on queen street, where the barker house now stands. it would seem that the old veteran accompanied his comrades to st. anns, for he makes an affidavit before major studholme at that place on the th of october, stating that by the wreck of the martha he had lost in tools, stores and baggage, property of the value of £ stg. his loss included the greater part of his effects and left him well nigh penniless. col. hewlett was born at hampstead, queens county, long island in new york, and died at hampstead, queens county, new brunswick. his grant of land at the latter place included part of long island in the st. john river. he died in in the th year of his age. two monuments have been erected in his memory, one at hampstead on the st. john river, the other at his native town of hampstead long island, n. y. the inscriptions on the monuments are nearly identical. sacred to the memory of lieut. col. richard hewlett, who served as captain at the conquest of canada, and contributed to the capture of fort frontenac, august, , and at the breaking out of the american revolution, , received a lieut.-colonel's commission, and served during the war under general oliver delancey. born at hampstead on long island in the then province of new york, and died at this place, july th, , aged years. some interesting particulars of the services of lt. col. hewlett during the revolution are to be found in jones' loyalist history of new york. he was a brave and capable officer. we cannot at this time follow further the fortunes of the loyalists of . their privations and their toils were not in vain. history has justified their attitude during the revolutionary epoch, and their merits are acknowledged by broad minded and impartial students of history in the united states. the late professor moses coit tyler, of the university of cornell, gave it as his opinion, "that the side of the loyalists, as they called themselves, of the tories, as they were scornfully nick-named by their opponents, was even in argument not a weak one, and in motive and sentiment not a base one, and in devotion and self-sacrifice not an unheroic one." the same sentiments were even more emphatically expressed by dr. tyler on the occasion of the celebration of the centenary of the founding of the university at fredericton, a few years since, on which occasion he said: "we americans here to-day wish to express our friendship toward you, not only on account of yourselves and the good work you are doing, but also on account, of those noble men and women, your ancestors, who founded this province of new brunswick, this town of fredericton, and this university which is the crown and glory of both. we remember what sort of men and women they were--their sincerity, their devotion to principle in defiance of loss and pain, their courage, their perseverance, their clear prevision of the immense importance of race unity. so, very honestly, with all our hearts we greet you as a kindred people, many of you of the same colonial lineage with ourselves, having many things in your public and private experience identical with our own, still bound to us by antique and indestructible bonds of fellowship in faith, in sympathy, in aspiration, in humane effort, all coincident with the beginnings of english civilization in north america, nay with the beginnings of civilization itself in that fast-anchored isle beyond the sea, which is the beloved mother of us all. if between your ancestors and ours, on opposite sides of the old revolutionary dispute a century and a quarter ago, there were many and bitter years of unfriendly tradition, we, on our part, are glad to think that such tradition lives no longer; that in the broad-minded view which time and the better understanding of our own history have brought us, the coming years are to witness a renewal and a permanent relation of good-will and mutual help, which bound together the earlier generations of our common race on this continent." to these kindly words every generous souled descendant of the loyalists will utter a fervent amen. and still we say--all honor to the brave hearts that sacrificed so much and suffered so severely for the preservation of a united british empire, and whose hands in later years laid strong and deep the foundation of our canadian dominion. index. aboideau, . acadia, bounds of, , . acadians, encouraged to leave n. s. peninsula, , ; settled on river st. john, , , , , , , , , , , , ; expulsion of, , , , . account books of simonds & white, , , , . alden, john, , , . alexander, james, , . alexander, sir william, . allan, john, , , , , - , , , . allen, lieut.-colonel isaac, . alline, rev. henry, , , - . amesbury, . anderson, john, , , . andros, governor, . annapolis, , , , , . aplin, joseph, . arbuthnot, colonel, , , , , , . argall, samuel, . armstrong, governor, . arrival of simonds & white, , . atherton, benjamin, , , , , , , . audren, father, , . aukpaque, , , , , , , , , , , , ; missionaries at, , , , , , . "bachelor," sloop, . bailey, rev. jacob, , , , . bailly, charles francois, , , , , . baptiste, captain, . barker, jacob, , , , , , , , . barker, jacob jr., , , . barlow, richard, , , . bates, walter, , , , . batt, major, , . baxter, simon, , . bayard, samuel, . bay of fundy, ; battles in, , . beardsley, rev. john, , . beausejour, , . beckwith, nehemiah, , . bellefontaine, , , , , . bellisle, , , , , . belliveau, charles, , . bell of medoctec chapel, , . benardin, . bessabez, , . biard, pierre, , , . biencourt, , . bill of lading, . black, edmund, , , . black, rev. william, . blodget, samuel, , , , , , , , . blowers, sampson salter, . boishebert, pierre, at mouth of the st. john, , , , ; retires to a "detroit," , , ; at nerepis, , ; at petitcodiac, ; at miramichi, . books in olden days, , . boston, , , , . botsford, amos, , . bourg, rev. joseph m., , , , , , , , . "bridgewater," ship, , , . briggs, zephaniah, . brookings, henry, . bruce, lieutenant. r. g., . bungwarrawit, . burbank, david, , , , . burpee, david, , , , . burpee, jonathan, , , . burton, township, , , . butler, captain pierce, , . butternut, trees, , , , . cadillac, , , . campbell, tamberlane, , . campobello, . canada company (see st. john's river society). carleton, sir guy, , , , , , , , . carr, peter, , . cartier, jacques, . caton, isaac, , , . caton's island, , , . census, , , , , , , , . chamberlain, montagu, . chambly, , . champlain, , , . charlevoix, , . charnisay, d'aulnay, , - . chauffours, sieur de (see louis d amours). chipman, ward, , , , . chkoudun, , . christie, thomas, . chubb, captain, , . church, colonel benjamin, , , . church, covenant, , . clarke, john, . cleoncore island, . cleveland, lemuel, , , . clignancourt, sieur de (see rene d'amours). climate, . clinch, peter, . cobb, captain, , , . coburn, moses, , , . coffin's manor, . congregational church, , , . connor, lieutenant, , , . contract, st business, , , , , . contract, nd business, , . converse, captain, . conway, township, , , , , , , . copper mine, . cornwallis, governor, , , . county of sunbury formed, . coy, edward, , , , . crabtree, a green, , , . crandall, rev. joseph, , , . cummings, samuel, , . currency of massachusetts, . curry, john, , . customs collector, , . d'amours, bernard, . d'amours, louis, , , , - , , . d'amours, mathieu, , , , , . d'amours, rene, , , , , , , , . danielou, jean pierre, , , , , , . danks, benoni, , . darling, benjamin, . davidson, lieutenant john, . davidson, william, , , , , , . delancy, lieut.-colonel, stephen, . delesderniers, frederick, , . demeulles, . demonts, , . denys, nicolas, , , . depeyster, abraham, . derazilly, . desbarres, joseph f. w., , . deserters, , . "detroit," or narrows, , , . deveber, lieut-colonel gabriel, , . dibblee, fyler, . dibblee, rev. f., . d'iberville, , , , . diereville, , . disbanded troops, , , , , . dole, w. p., . doucet, joseph, . dover, n. h., . dummer, rev., . du pont, , . dutch, mauraders, . eagleson, rev. john, . early mechanics, . earthquake, . eaton, captain, , . eddy, jonathan, , , , . ekouipahag, (see aukpaque). elizee, father, . emerson, samuel, . emerson, webster, . emenenic, , , . english settlers, . "envieux," ship, , , . estabrooks, elijah, , , . estey, richard, , , , . estey, zebulon, , , , , . falconer, captain thomas, , , , . falls, mouth of st. john, , , . fenton, captain john, , , . fisher, hon. charles, . fisher, peter, , , , . fishery, , , , , , . fleets of , , , , , . fort boishebert, , , , , . fort cumberland, , . fort frederick, erection of, , , , ; garrison at, , , , , , ; glasier at fort, , , ; dismantled, ; burned, . fort howe, , , , , , , . fort hughes, . fort latour, . fort menagoueche, , , , , . fort nachouac, , . fort at st. john, , , , , , , , , . fox, general, , . franklin, michael, , ; superintendent of indian affairs, , , , , , , , , , . francklin, hazen & white, , - . fredericton, , . french village, , , , . freneuse, , , . freshets, , , . frontenac, count, , , . frost, sarah, , . fur trade, , , , , , , , , , . gage, , , . gagetown, , , . gale, , , . galissonniere, count de la, , , . game, , , , , . ganong, dr. w. f., , , , . garrison, joseph, , , , , . gaspe, sieur de, , , . gaudet, placide p., , , , , , , , , , . gemesech, , . gemisick (see jemseg), , , , . germain, charles, , , , , , , , , . gilbert, colonel thomas, . glasier, beamsley p., , , , , , ; agent of st. john's river society, , , - . glasier, benjamin, . glasier, "the main john," . glode, ballomy, . goold, colonel, , . gorham, captain john, , . grand falls, , . grand fontaine, . grand lake, , . grand lake coal, , , . grand manan, . grantees at maugerville, , . grantees of townships, , . grants of lands, , , , , , . grapes, , . greenough, moses, , . grimross, , , , . gyles, john, , , , , , , - , - . haldimand, colonel, frederick, , , . halifax, , . hamond, sir a. s., , , , , . hannay, james, , , , , , , , . hardy, elias, , , . hart, john, . hart, jonathan, . hart, thomas, , . hauser, frederick, , , . haverhill, , . hawawes, nicholas, , . hawthorn, colonel, , . hayes, john, , , . hayward, nehemiah, , . hazen family, , , , . hazen house, . hazen & white, , , . hazen, jarvis, simonds, white & co., , , , , , , etc. hazen, john, , , . hazen, moses, , , , . hazen, william, , , , , ; at st. john, , , , , , . hewlett, lieut.-colonel richard, , , , . hovey, stephen, . how, captain edward, , . howlett, ammi, , . hubbard, william, . huron indians, , , , . hutchinson, hon. thomas, , , , . ice-jam, , . indian church at medoctec, , , . indian corn, , , , . indian cruelty, , , , , , , , , , . indians (see maliseets and micmacs). indian pow-wows, , , , - , , , . indian treaties, , , , , , , , . indiantown, , . inventory of effects, simonds & white, , . island of st. john, . jack, d. r., . jadis, captain, . jarvis, leonard, , , , , . jarvis, samuel gardiner, . jemseg, post at, , , , , , , . jenkins, thomas, , , . jesuits, . jewett, daniel, , . johnson, the chevalier, , . joibert, , (see soulanges). jones, john, , , , . jones, lieutenant simeon, . kemble, manor, , . kennebec, , , , . kennebeccasis, , , , . kennedy, captain patrick, . kimball, richard, . king george's war, , , . king philips's war, . king william's war, , , . kingsclear, . kingston, , , . king's woods, . kinney, israel, , . lahontan, baron, . lajonquiere, , , . langan, thomas, . larlee, john, , . latour, charles, , - , . latour, lady, , , . lavalliere, . lawrence, j. w., , . lawrence, governor, , , . lawrence's proclamations, , . leaming, rev. j., . leavitt, daniel, , , , , . leavitt, jonathan, , , , , , . leborgne, alexander, , , , . leborgne, francois, . leloutre, abbe, , , , , . lemoyne, , . lescarbot, , . lime at st. john, , , , , - , . lime-kilns, modern, , . l'isle, dieu, abbe, , , . livingston, philip j., , , , . loder's creek, . lloyd's neck, , . loler. peter, . long island, . louisburg, capture of, , , , . loverga, father, , , . loyalists, , , , , , , . loyalist agents, . loyalist regiments, , - . loyard, jean b., - , , . lumbering, , . machias, , , , , , . madawaska, , , , , , , . madocawando, , , . magistrates, early, , , , . mahogany (see manawagonish). maillard, abbe, . maliseets, their origin and customs, - ; at war with the english, , , , , , , , , , , , ; at medoctec, - , , ; at aukpaque, , , , , , , , ; peace parleys, , , - , ; claim the lands, , , , ; trade with the english, , , , , , , , . magistrates, early, , , , , , . malouins, . manawagonish, , , , , , , , . marble, isaac, , . marichites, (maliseets), . marin, sieur, , , . marriages, , , , , , , , , , , , . marsden, joshua, . marsh at st. john (see sebaskastaggan). marsh bridge, . marston, benjamin, , , . "martha," ship, , . martignon, sieur de, . martin, joseph, , . mascarene, paul, , , , , , . massacre at st. anns, , , . masse, enemond, , . massey, brig. general, , , , , , . masting contract, . mast-pond, . masts, , , , , , , , , , , . mather, rev. dr., . mauger, joshua, , , , . maugerville, , , , , , , ; progress of, - , , , ; rebels of, , , , , . mazerolle settlement, . medoctec village, , , , , , , , , , , , ; plague at, ; gyles at, , , , ; pote at, , . megabagaduce, . members for sunbury, , , , , , . membertou, , . menagoueche, , , , , , , , , , , , . menaguashe, , , , , . men-ah-quesk, , , , . menneval, , . menzies, john, . menzies, major thomas, . mercure, michael, , , . merveille, captain, . micmacs, , , , , , , , , . middleton, samuel, , . mill creek, . mills at nashwaak, , , - , , ; at maugerville, , , ; at st. john, , , ; at oromocto, . miramichi, , , , . "mistake," the, , , . mitchel, lewis, . mohawks, , . moireau, claude, . monckton, colonel r., , , , - . moncton, , . montcalm, . montesson, , . mooers, peter, , , . moose, , , , . morpain, pierre de, . morrisania, , , , . morris, charles, , , , , , , . morris, charles, jr., , , . morris, major, . morse, colonel robert, , . murray, captain, . murray, major daniel, , . mccurdy, captain, , , . mcgregor, rev. james, , . mckeen, william, , . mclean, general, . mcneal, sergeant, . narantsouak, . nashwaak, (nachouac), , , , , , , , , , , , . navy island, , , , . negro men, , . neguedchecouniedoche, . neptune, john, . neptune, lewis, . nerepis, , , , , , , . neuvillette, , . nevers, elisha, , , , . nevers, phinehas, , , , , . newburyport, , , , , , . new ireland, . "newport," ship captured, . newton, hon. henry, , , . newton, philip, . new-town township, , , . nid d'aigle, , . noble, rev. seth, , , , , . o'bear, port, . odell, jonathan, . ogilvie, rev. john, , , , . oromocto, , , , , , , , . ouigoudy, , . paddock, adino, . palmer, daniel, , , , . parr, governor, , , . parr-town, , , , , . passamaquoddy, , , , , , , , . passamaquoddy indians, , , , , , , , . peabody, captain francis, , , , , , , , , , , , ; will of, , . peabody, samuel, , , , , , , , , . peaslie, robert, , , , . pemaquid, , , , , . pennoniac, . penobscot, , , , , , , , , . pepperrell, william, . perkins' island, , , . perley, israel, , , , , , , , , . perley, moses h., , , . perley, oliver, , , , . perrot, . peters, james, . phillipps, governor, . pickard, humphrey, , , , , . pickett, david, . pine-trees (see also masts), , , . plague on st. john river, . plummer, sylvanus, , . pontgrave, . porier, senator, . portland point, , , - , , , , ; arrival at, , , . portneuf, , , . port royal, , , , , , , , , , . post houses on the st. john, , . pote, captain william, - . poutrincourt, , . pow-wows, indian, , , , - , , , . preble, john, , . prescott & co., . price, edmund, , . prices of goods, etc., , , , , , , , , . prince william, , . privateers, , , , , , , , , . quinton, hugh, , , , , , , , . ralleau, . ralle, missionary, . regan, jeremiah, . religious teachers, . relics, indian, , . rideout, nicholas, . ring, zebedee, , , . robichaux, , , , , . rogers, captain jeremiah, , . rogers, nathaniel, , , . rous, captain john, , , , . route to canada, , , , , . rowley, . royal fencible american regiment, , , . rum, , . rushagonis, . salamanca, , . saturday night in , . savary, judge, . saw-mills, , , , , , , , , , , , . say, gervas, , , , , , , , , , . sayre, rev. john, . scalps, rewards offered for, , . scott, major, , . seabury, rev. samuel, . secondon (see chkoudun). sedgewick, major robert, . seebaskastaggan marsh, , , . seigniories, , , , , , . sharman, dr., , , . sheffield (see maugerville). sheep for settlers, . ship-building, , , , . ships, transport, , , . ship-wrecks, , . shirley, governor, , , , . shorne, richard, , , , , . siege of fort nachouac, . simonds family, . simonds, james, - , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , - , , , , , , . simonds, richard, , , , , , . simon, recollet missionary, , , , , , , , , , . small, colonel, . small-pox, . smith, jonathan, , , . smith, rev. curryl, . smith, stephen, . soulanges, sieur de, , . spry, captain william, , , , . stamp act, . st. anns, acadians at, , , , , , ; massacre at st. annes, , , ; indian claims at, , , ; trading post at, , , , ; the loyalists at, , . st. aubin, ambroise, , , , , . st. castin, baron, , , , , . st. croix island, , . st. john, name of city, . st. john harbor, , , , , , . st. john river, , , , , , , ; cadillac's description, ; inundations of, , , . st. john's river society, , - , . st. vallier, bishop, , . sterling, captain walter, . stickney, isaac, , . stone age, , . storey, william, , . straton brothers, . street, samuel denny, , , . studholme, gilfred, at fort frederick, ; at fort howe, , , , , , , , , , , , , , . sunbury county, , etc., , , . sunbury township, , , , . tablet, medoctec, , , . tapley, alexander, , , . tapley, samuel, . taxous, . temiscouata, , . temple, sir thomas, . thoma, chief, . thoma, pierre, , , , , , , , , , , . thompson, lieut.-colonel, benjamin, , . thury, missionary, , , , . tidmarsh, giles, , , , . tilley, sir s. l., . tinker, captain william, . tory's soliloquy, . townships, , , , , . transport ships, , , . treaties, , , , , . truck-houses, , , , , . "two sisters," transport ship, . "ulysees," sloop, . "union," transport ship, , , . upper cove, . upham, joshua, , . upton, samuel, . van buskirk, colonel abraham, , . vaudreuil, , , , , , , , , . vergor, sieur de, . vessels of simonds, hazen & white, - , . vienneau family, . villebon, sieur de, , - , , , , . villieu, , , , , . wade, philip, , . wages, , , , , . waldron, major, . walnut (see butternut). ward, clarence, . ward, major john, . washademoak, , , . washington, george, . wasson, john, . watson, brook, . webster, mr., . webster, samuel, . wellman, mr., . wentworth, governor, . west, captain, , . white, james, , , , , , , , , ; arrival at st. john, , , ; at crown point, ; second contract, , ; dealings with indians, , , , , , . whitney, samuel, , . willard, captain, , , . wilmot, governor montagu, , , , . winslow, edward, , , , . winslow, lieut.-colonel john, . winthrop, governor, . wood, rev. thomas, , , , . woodboats, first, . woodman, james, , , , , , , , . woolastook, . woodstock, , . wordens, fort at, , . xavier, francois, , , , . young royal highland emigrants, . illustrations. page samuel de champlain frontispiece indian encampment and chief champlain's plan of st. john harbor title page bp. st. vallier's book fort nachouac signature of sieur de freneuse signature of john gyles plan of old medoctec village medoctec tablet bell of old medoctec chapel signature of jean loyard paul mascarene old fort at worden's woodman's point--site of fort boishebert colonel robert monckton sketch map of river st. john in isle au garce, or emenenic inscription on medoctec stone plan--aukpaque and surroundings bruce's plan of st. john harbor signature of peter fisher plan of maugerville the congregational church at maugerville a cottage of today signatures ice-jam, plan of townships plan of grants to simonds & white old hazen house and grounds signature joseph mathurin bourg fort howe in signature of major g. studholme fort howe in st. john harbor, showing mast dock * * * * * transcriber's note: author's archaic and variable spelling, hyphenation, and quoting practices are preserved. author's punctuation style is preserved. illustrations have been moved closer to their relevant paragraphs, but page numbers in the list of illustrations have not been changed. footnotes moved to below relevant paragraphs. passages in italics indicated by _underscores_. passages in bold indicated by =equal signs=. typographical problems have been changed and are listed below. transcriber's changes: page : was 'a lowed' (bessabez, the sagamore of the penobscot indians, =allowed= the body of the dead chief to be taken home) page : was 'o' (one =of= the islands in that vicinity the early english settlers afterwards called "isle of vines,") page : was 'baird' (=biard= relates that a certain sagamore on hearing that the young king of france was unmarried,) page : was 'therr' (this fact should be remembered to their credit by those who most abhor =their= bloodthirstiness and cruelty.) page : was 'villiage' (chkoudun lived at "menagoueche" in his fortified =village= on navy island when champlain invited him to go with the sieur de poutrincourt) page : was 'cahmplain' (chkoudun lived at "menagoueche" in his fortified village on navy island when =champlain= invited him to go with the sieur de poutrincourt) page : was 'baird' (was the scene of an exciting incident of which =biard= has left us a picturesque description.) page : was 'beseigers' (for three days madame la tour bravely repelled the =besiegers= and obliged them to retire beyond the reach of her guns.) page : as per errata note: was 'bllier afterwards became the mission of' (the islands which the bishop mentions are the well known and =beautiful islands below the mouth of= the keswick stream.) page : was 'commissioned' (villebon was favorably received and returned with a =commission= from the king to command in acadia.) page : was 'ingrediants' (at this time they presented the indians with a bag or two of flour with some prunes as =ingredients= for a feast.) page : added closing double quote ("july , . m. thury, missionary, having arrived with taxous, chief of the canibas and other savages from pentagouet; brandy, gallon; tobacco, =lbs."=) page : added closing double-quote (whereby they will be greatly strengthened and the reducing of them rendered more =difficult."=) page : was 'the the' (villebon assigned to baptiste and rene d'amours the duty of heading =the= indians and opposing the landing of the english.) page : was 'opertion' (the english again got their guns into =operation=, but la cote,) page : was 'rendevous' (with ammunition and supplies and sent on to the =rendezvous= at penobscot.) page : was 'the the' (mathieu's seigniory included all =the= land "between gemisik and nachouac,") page : was 'mademe (some days after he took an affecting leave of =madame= d'amours and his master went down to) page : was 'fourtunes' (the next year france and england were again at war and in the course of the conflict the =fortunes= of the d'amours) page : was 'in in' (however, early =in= the morning we took our loads of moose flesh) page : was 'sterness' (his disposition had nothing of =sternness=, yet he was equally beloved) page : added closing double quote (to induce mr. shirley to allow them to settle again in their villages, and to leave their missionaries undisturbed as they were before the =war."=) page : removed closing double quote (we incamped this night at this afforsaid indian village =apog.= (aukpaque.)") page : added closing double quote (or bread, we incamped this night at this afforsaid indian village apog. =(aukpaque.)"=) page : was 'mascaerne' (annapolis early in , which attack failed on account of the energy and bravery of =mascarene=.) page : added closing double quote ("it is =desirable,"= he writes, "that the savages should unite in opposing the english) page : was 'main-maist' (vergor had a new =main-mast= cut and drawn from the woods by the crew of the st. francis) page : was 'illict' (st. francis was confiscated for engaging in =illicit= commerce in the province of his britannic majesty.) page : was 'warike' (she was engaged in furnishing =warlike= munitions to the indian enemy) page : was 'anticipatd' (the marquis de la jonquiere =anticipated= great advantages from the overland route of communication.) page : was 'benfits' (it was claimed that many =benefits= would follow, chiefly that the lumbermen) page : was 'removel' (about the =removal= of the acadians from chignecto and the river st. john.) page : added closing double quote (and the micmacs he would be able to form a camp of or men, and drucour could frequently place the besiegers between two =fires."=) page : was 'menagoeche' (the english were engaged in rebuilding the old fort at =menagoueche=; the indians of the river st. john had retired with the rev. father germain,) page : original spelling: guidry ... guirdy ("at menagoueck, the year of grace , the june, have baptized according to the forms of the church, jeanne =guidry, child of claude guirdy= dit la verdure and of keskoua) page : was 'arrranged' (gerrish agreed to buy goods and sell them to on furs sold, and the prices to be so =arranged= that the indians) page : was 'skin skin' (the same standard: moose skin, - / "beavers"; bear =skin=, - / "beavers"; sable skins, "beaver"; mink skins, "beaver"; ermine skins, "beaver";) page : was ' - ' (the same standard: moose skin, - / "beavers"; bear skin, = - / = "beavers"; sable skins, "beaver"; mink skins, "beaver"; ermine skins, "beaver";) page : was 'goverment' (the vicinity of their village was early recognized by the =government= of nova scotia) page : was 'rendevous' (the island opposite aukpaque, called indian island, was the place where the indians of the river made their annual =rendezvous=.) page : was 'river' (however, very shortly after monckton's occupation of the st. john =river= lawrence issued the first of his celebrated proclamations) page : was 'and and' (grog was at that time freely dispensed in the army =and= navy, and mauger erected a distillery) page : was 'inculding' (as the business was lucrative he soon accumulated much property in and around halifax, =including= the well known mauger's beach) page : added closing double quote (m. wilmot. rich'd bulkeley, =secretary."= }) page : was 'phippin (land was first described by judith =phippen=, which proved to be the headland now called "point judith.") page : was 'parley' (the ancestors of many well known families in america, bearing the familiar names of peabody, =perley=, beardsley) page : was 'ticonderga' (with his cousin captain john hazen in the campaign against fort =ticonderoga=.) page : was 'ilustration' (see =illustration= on preceding page of a recent ice-jam at this place.) page : was 'rom' (she made occasional voyages =from= st. john to st. croix in the west indies. ) page : was 'and and' ("consigned to richard barlow storekeeper at st. john's =and= passenger on board for the use of the st. john's society.") page : was 'o' (the avidity manifested by the agent =of= the st. john's river society in seeking favors at the hands of government would seems to countenance the idea) page : added closing double-quote (to the express condition of the grant will absolutely be declared =forfeited."=) page : added closing double-quote (proprietors, agent with whom you will please correspond on any occurrence regarding the =settlement."=) page : was 'bailey' (in the summer of , father charles francois =bailly= came to the river st. john) page : was 'here' (but up to this time =there= had been no opportunity for church-going.) page : was 'pslams' (with the exception of a copy of watt's =psalms= and hymns owned by james white.) page : was 'rooom' (but alas for them the force of events left no =room= for neutrality.) page : was 'and, and' (the people of machias were particularly fond of plundering their neighbors, =and= that place was termed) page : was 'commissiary' (the =commissary= general there was directed to deliver them one barrel of gunpowder) page : was 'of of' (one barrel of gunpowder, flints and weight =of= lead from the colony's stores;) page : was 'aukaque' (john allan and his party arrived at the indian village of =aukpaque= where forty or fifty indians) page : added closing double-quote (capt. benjamin marston on board his vessel the ="brittania"=, which was then lying at anchor) page : was 'passamoquoddy' (he came to =passamaquoddy= about , settled there and was appointed a justice of the peace in .) page : was 'perre' (we may therefore conclude that =pierre= thoma did not long survive his old friend and patron michael francklin.) page : was 'franklin's' (=francklin's= political influence at halifax and the personal friendship of sir andrew snape hamond,) page : was 'franklin' (col. =francklin= procured at halifax many articles needed for the mast cutters, such as chains, blocks and tackle, camp supplies, etc.) page : was 'frankcklin' (as we expected when col. =francklin= left this place.) page : changed single to double closing-quote (he has raised the price of provision and men and ox labour--oxen to s. d. pr. pair pr. day and men in =proportion."=) page : was 'renumerative' (the masting business seems to have been =remunerative=, and was the means of putting in circulation a considerable amount of specie, which was greatly appreciated) page : was 'jealously' (this election helped to intensify the ill-will and =jealousy= already existing between the "old" and "new" inhabitants.) page : moved onto new line ("=county of sunbury=:--be it remembered that on the seventh day of july, , nathaniel barker of maugerville in the county of) page : was 'the the' (item, to my daughter heprabeth i give three hundred dollars to be paid by my two eldest sons in household goods on =the= day of her marriage.) page : was 'gearge' ((witnesses.) daniel palmer, fran's peabody, sam'l whitney, richard estey, =george= hayward, david palmer, edw'd coy.") page : was 'caol' (joseph garrison is said to have been the first of the settlers to engage in mining =coal= at grand lake.) page : was 'vacciantion' (inoculation, it may be observed, was regarded as the best preventative of small-pox before =vaccination= was introduced by dr. jenner.) page : was 'baubiers' ("at the entrance of a small river called =baubier's= river or narrow piece [nerepis] the land a considerable distance back is good upland but no interval.) page : added comma (one son, george frederick street, was a judge of the supreme court, =another,= john ambrose street, was attorney general of the province and leader of the government) page : was 'bostford' (the agents chosen were messrs. amos =botsford=, samuel cummings and frederick hauser.) page : was 'bridgwater' ("ann," capt. clark; "=bridgewater=," capt. adnet; "favorite," capt. ellis;) page : was 'bridgwater' (the =bridgewater=, one of the spring fleet, came again in june, and made a third voyage in october.) page : was 'glimse' (we get a =glimpse= of the distress and perplexity of the men of the loyal regiments in one of edward winslow's letters to ward chipman.) page : was 'perserverance' (their courage, their =perseverance=, their clear prevision of the immense importance of race unity.) page : was 'severly' (and still we say--all honor to the brave hearts that sacrificed so much and suffered so =severely= for the preservation) index: unclear in original (acadians, encouraged to leave n. s. peninsula, , ; settled on river st. john, , , , , , , , , = =, , , ;) index: was 'zephamiah' (briggs, =zephaniah=, .) index: was 'dierville' (=diereville=, , .) with thanks to www.canadiana.org, sketches and tales illustrative of life in the backwoods of new brunswick, north america, gleaned from actual observation and experience during a residence of seven years in that interesting colony. by mrs. f. beavan. "son of the isles! talk not to me, of the old world's pride and luxury! tho' gilded bower and fancy cot, grace not each wild concession lot; tho' rude our hut, and coarse our cheer, the wealth the world can give is here." . table of contents. introductory remarks new brunswick--by whom settled remarks on state of morals and religion american physiognomy the spring freshets cranberries stream driving moving a house frolics sugar making breaking up of the ice first appearances of spring burning a fallow a walk through a settlement log huts description of a native new brunswicker's house blowing the horn a deserted lot the bushwacker the postman american newspapers musquitoes an emigrant's house unsuccessful lumberer the law of kindness exemplified in the case of a criminal schools the school mistress the woods baptists' association a visit to the house of a refugee the indian bride, a refugee's story mr. hanselpecker burning of miramichi the lost one--a tale of the early settlers the mignionette song of the irish mourner a winter's evening sketch the school-mistress's dream library in the backwoods the indian summer the lost children--a poem sleigh riding aurora borealis getting into the ice conclusion these sketches of the backwoods of new brunswick are intended to illustrate the individual and national characteristics of the settlers, as displayed in the living pictures and legendary tales of the country. they have been written during the short intervals allowed from domestic toils, and may, perhaps, have little claim to the attention of the public, save that of throwing a faint light upon the manners and customs of that little-known, though interesting, appendage of the british empire. a long residence in that colony having given me ample means of knowing and of studying them in all their varying hues of light and shade. there, in the free wide solitude of that fair land whose youthful face "seems wearing still the first fresh fragrance of the world," the fadeless traces of character, peculiar to the dwellers of the olden climes, are brought into close contrast with the more original feelings of the "sons of the soil," both white and red, and are there more fully displayed than in the mass of larger communities. of political, or depth of topographical information, the writer claims no share, and much of deep interest, or moving incident, cannot now be expected in the life of a settler in the woods. the days when the war-whoop of the indian was yelled above the burning ruins of the white man's dwelling are gone--their memory exists but in the legend of the winter's eve, and the struggle is now with the elements which form the climate; the impulse of "going a-head" giving impetus to people's "getting along"--forcing the woods to bow beneath their sturdy stroke, and fields to shine with ripened grain, where erst the forest shadows fell; or floating down the broad and noble streams the tall and stately pine, taken from the ancient bearded wilderness to bear the might of england's fame to earth and sea's remotest bounds. new brunswick is partly settled by french acadians from the adjoining province of nova scotia, but these, generally speaking, form a race by themselves, and mingle little with the others, still retaining the peculiarities of their nation, although long separated from it--they like gaiety and amusement more than work, and consequently are rather poorer than the other inhabitants; but, of course, there are exceptions. in the winter i have often seen them on their way to market, with loads of frozen oysters, packed in barrels, and moss cranberries (rather a chance crop); but they looked happy and comfortable, and went singing merrily to the ringing of their horse bells. the french were the pioneers of the province, and often had to do battle with the indians, the ancient possessors of the soil: of these last there now remains but a fast-fading remnant--objects more of pity or laughter than of dread. of the other original settlers, or, as they are particularly termed, "blue noses," they are composed of the refugees and their descendants, being those persons who, at the separation of england from america, prefering the british government, sought her protection and came, another band of pilgrims, and swore fealty to that land from whence their fathers had so indignantly fled--they are certainly a most indescribable genus those blue noses--the traces of descent from the dutch and french blood of the united states, being mingled with the independent spirit of the american and the staunch firmness of the "britisher," as they delight to call themselves, showing their claim to it by the most determined hatred of the yankees, whose language and features they yet retain: yet these differing qualities blend to form a shrewd, intelligent, active, and handsome people--intelligence and strong sense, to a far greater amount than could be found in persons of the same class in england. a trace, albeit a faint one of the saxon serf, still lingers with the english peasant; but the free breeze of america soon sweeps the shadows from his brow, and his sons all, proudly take their place as men, knowing that by their own conduct and talents they may work their way to fortune, or, at least, "rough hew" it, without dread that the might of custom's icy breath can blight their fate for lack of birth or fortune. this gives a noble feeling to the heart and a higher tone to the character, although a sense of the ridiculous is often attached to this by a native of the old countries, when it is shown forth by the "squire" yoking his oxen, a major selling turkies, and the member for the county cradling buckwheat. yet all this is productive of good, and opens a path for intellect and genius, and when a colonel and member of the legislative council eats _pancakes and molasses_ in a friendly way with his poorer neighbours, is it not likely (as the persian fable tells us of the pebble lying near the rose, and thereby imbibing some of its fragrance) that some of the graces and politeness of the higher circles, to which these gentlemen belong both by fortune and education, should be imparted, in some degree, to those with whom they converse. so it undoubtedly does, and the air of refinement, native to the new brunswicker, is never so strongly visible as when contrasted with the new-caught emigrant. rudeness and vulgarity in glaring forms one never meets from them; odd and inquisitive ways may be thought impertinent, and require both time and patience to be rightly understood. the state of morals and religion is fast progressing; these, of course, have all their mainspring from education, for an uneducated people can never be, rightly speaking, either moral or religious. so new brunswick may have the apology for whispered tales that float about, of corn being reaped and wood being felled on the sabbath-day, and of sacred rites being dispensed with. she is yet in her infancy, and when one thinks that 'tis but sixty years since they first set foot on the shore, where stood one lonely hut, on the site of the now flourishing city of st. john, we must know that their physical wants were then so many that but little attention could be given to the wants of the mind. but now, thanks to the parental care of britain, schools and churches are rising fast throughout the country, and learning is received with an avidity that marks the active intellect it has to work upon; besides, all these old stories of failings occurred long before the tide of emigration caused them to be enlightened by the visitation of the inhabitants of the gifted climes of the olden world. well would it be if all those showed as much desire to avail themselves of their means of improvement, as a new brunswicker does of those enjoyed by him. their personal appearance differs much from the english. cooper says, "the american physiognomy has already its own peculiar cast"--so it has, and can easily be distinguished--in general they are handsomer than the emigrants--darker in complexion, but finer in feature and more graceful in form--not so strong, and fading sooner. many of the children are perfectly beautiful, but the cherub beauty changes soon, and the women particularly look old and withered while yet young in years. infantine beauty seems peculiar to the country, for even the children of emigrants born there are much handsomer than those born at home. such are some of the traits of the natives--then comes the wide circle of emigrants, each (at least the older ones) retaining the peculiarities of their different countries. many of them, although better off than they could possibly expect to be at home, yet keep railing at the country, and thirsting after the "flesh-pots of egypt." the yorkshireman talks of nothing but the "white cakes and bag puddings" of old england, regardless of the "pumpkin pies and buckwheat pancakes" of new brunswick; and one old lady from cornwall (where they say the devil would not go for fear of being transformed into a pasty) revenges herself on the country by making pies of everything, from apples and mutton down to parsley, and all for the memory of england; while, perhaps, were she there, she might be without a pie. the honest scotchman is silent upon the subject of "vivers," and wisely talks not of either "crowdy" or barley meal, but tells of the time when he was a sitter in the kirk of the rev. peter poundtext, showing his christian charity by the most profound contempt as well for the ordinances of the church of england as for the "dippings" of the baptists. he attends none of them, for he says "he canna thole it," but when by chance a minister of the kirk comes his way, then you may see him, with well-saved sabbath suit, pressing anxiously forward to catch the droppings of the sanctuary: snows or streams offering no obstacle to his zeal. the irishman, too, is there seen all in his glory--one with a medal on his breast, flinging his shillalagh over his head and shouting for o'connell, while another is quaffing to the "pious, glorious, and immortal memory of king william," inviting those around him to join together in an orange lodge, of which community he certainly shows no favourable specimen; but by degrees these national feelings and asperities become more softened, and the second generation know little of them. the settlement from whence these sketches are drawn, was formed of a motley mixture of all the different nations--blue nose, english, scotch, irish, welch, and dutch. we had been living for some time at a place called _long creek_, on the margin of a broad and rapid stream, which might well have borne the more dignified appellation of river--the land on its borders was the flat, rich "_intervale_," so highly prized, formed by alluvial deposits. there are, i believe, two descriptions of this _intervale_,--one covered with low small bushes, and, therefore, more easily cleared--the other with a gigantic growth of the butternut, the oak, and the elm. this where we lived was of the latter description. a few of the stately monarchs of the forest yet stood upon the emerald plains, spreading their magnificent branches to the sunlight, and telling of the kindly soil that nourished them. along the fences wild hops festooned themselves in graceful wreaths of wild luxuriance. a few clumps of cranberry bushes had also been permitted to remain, notwithstanding the american's antipathy to trees or bushes is such, that his axe, which he hardly ever stirs without, is continually flying about him; but this berry, one amongst the many indigenous to the country, is a useful addition to the winter store--they grow abundantly, and, after the first frost which ripens them they have a brilliant appearance, hanging like clustering rubies, reminding one of the gem-clad boughs of aladdin. when gathered, they are hung up in bunches, when they become frozen, keeping good till the spring. they are used for tarts and jellies, the frost neither altering their colour nor flavour. those places are overflown in the spring; the "freshets" caused by the melting of the snow raising the waters above their ordinary level. i have often sailed over them, and 'twas strange to see each familiar footpath and strawberry bank far down beneath the shining waves. as the creek goes onward to the river the _intervale_ disappears, and the banks become grey and steep, crowned with the tall and slender stems of the spruce and cedar. new brunswick is rich in minerals, and veins of coal and iron abound at this place; but many years must elapse ere mines are worked to any extent. a few are in operation at present; but while the pine waves the wealth of her green plumage to the lumber-man, or the new-cleared ground will yield its virgin crop to the farmer, the earth must keep her deeper treasures. in the spring, this creek presents a busy picture. the rivers of new brunswick are to her what the railroads are now to other countries: and richly is she blessed with sparkling waters from the diamond flashings of the mountain rill to the still calm beauty of the sheltered lake, the silvery streams, the sweeping river, and the unfrozen width of the winter harbour of her noble bay. true, much can be done on the icy ways of winter, but then the home work must be minded, and market attended. fire-wood for the year must be _hauled_; the increasing _clearings_ call for extended fences, and these also must be drawn from the woods on the snow, so that when the spring opens, the roots and other spare produce are quickly shipped off (boated would be a better expression) into large open boats, called market-boats. another description, called wood-boats, are used for carrying deals and cord-wood, so called from the stick forming the measure of a cord, which is the mode of selling it in the city for fuel. the deals are floated from the saw mills over the shallows, and piled into the boats. one could sometimes walk across the river on the quantities of wood floating about. the larger pieces of wood or timber are floated singly down the stream nearest to the place whence they are cut. this operation is called stream-driving, and commences as soon as the rapid melting of the snow and ice has so swollen the small streams as to give them power to force and carry the huge pieces of timber, until, at the confluence of the streams, the water becomes wide enough to enable them to form it into rafts, on which raft a hut is built and furnished with the necessaries for subsistence. the gang who have been employed in bringing it so far lay themselves upon it, and allow it to float down the stream, until the breeze wafts them to their destination. these are the scenes of the spring, when all life seems awakening. the tree-buds are bursting their cerements--the waters are dancing in light and song--and the woods, before all still, now echo a few wild notes of melody. the blue wing of the halycon goes dazzlingly past, and tells us his own bright days are come; and the "_whip-poor-will_" brings his lay so close, that the ear is startled with the human sound on the soft damp air. the scene is changed when sirius is triumphant, telling us of the tropics, and that we live in rather an inexplicable climate. beneath his burning influence i have glided down this creek when no sound was heard on earth or air save the ripples of the paddle as it rose or fell at the will of the child-like form which guided the fragile bark. the dwellers on the margin of these fair waters are as much at home upon them as on land, and the children in particular are as amphibious as the musk rats which people its banks, and which scent the air somewhat heavily with what, in a fainter degree, would be thought perfume. one can hardly recall these dog-star days at that later season when the pearly moon and brilliant stars shine down from the deep blue sky on the crusted snows; when fairy crystals are reflecting their cold bright beams on the glistening ice, while the sleigh flies merrily along, "with bell and bridle ringing," on the same path we held in summer with the light canoe; when the breath congeals in a sheet of ice around the face, and the clearness of the atmosphere makes respiration difficult. to tell us that we are in the same latitude with the sunny clime of boulogne, in france, shows us that america cannot be measured by the european standard. a quarter of the globe lies between us; they go to bed four hours before we do, and are fast asleep while we are wide awake. no one attempts to live in the country districts without a farm. as the place where we lived had but a house and one acre of land, none being vacant in that immediate neighbourhood, and finding firing and pasturage expensive, and furthermore wishing to raise our own potatoes, and, if we liked, live in _peas_, a lot of two hundred acres was purchased in the settlement, styled, "_par excellence_," "the english," (from the first settlers being of that illustrious nation,) a distance of two miles from where we then lived. our house was a good one. we did not like to leave it. selling was out of the question: so we e'en resolved to take it with us, wishing, as the highland robber did of the haystack, that it had legs to walk. a substitute for this was found in the universal resource of new brunswickers for all their wants, from the cradle to the coffin, "the tree, the bonny greenwood tree," that gives the young life-blood of its sweet sap for sugar--and even when consumed by fire its white ashes yield them soap. i have even seen wooden fire-irons, although they do not go quite so far as their yankee neighbours, who, letting alone wooden clocks, deal besides in _wooden hams_, nutmegs, and cucumber seeds. two stout trees were then felled (the meanest would have graced a lordly park), and hewed with the axe into a pair of gigantic sled runners. the house was raised from its foundation and placed on these. many hands make light work; but, had those hands been all hired labourers, the expense would have been more than the value of the house, but 'twas done by what is called a "frolic." when people have a particular kind of work requiring to be done quickly, and strength to accomplish it, they invite their neighbours to come, and, if necessary, bring with them their horses or oxen. frolics are used for building log huts, chopping, piling, ploughing, planting, and hoeing. the ladies also have their particular frolics, such as wool-picking, or cutting out and making the home-spun woollen clothes for winter. the entertainment given on such occasions is such as the house people can afford; for the men, roast mutton, pot pie, pumpkin pie, and rum dough nuts; for the ladies, tea, some scandal, and plenty of "_sweet cake_," with stewed apple and custards. there are, at certain seasons, a great many of these frolics, and the people never grow tired of attending them, knowing that the logs on their own fallows will disappear all the quicker for it. the house being now on the runners, thirty yoke of oxen, four abreast, were fastened to an enormous tongue, or pole, made of an entire tree of ash. no one can form any idea, until they have heard it, of the noise made in driving oxen; and, in such an instance as this, of the skill and tact required in starting them, so that they are all made to pull at once. i have often seen the drivers, who are constantly shouting, completely hoarse; and after a day's work so exhausted that they have been unable to raise the voice. although the cattle are very docile, and understand well what is said to them, yet from the number of turnings and twistings they require to be continually reminded of their duty. amid, then, all the noise and bustle made by intimating to such a number whether they were to "haw" or "gee," the shoutings of the younger parties assembled, the straining of chains and the creaking of boards, the ponderous pile was set in motion along the smooth white and marble-like snow road, whose breadth it entirely filled up. it was a sight one cannot well forget--to see it move slowly up the hill, as if unwilling to leave the spot it had been raised on, notwithstanding the merry shouts around, and the flag they had decked it with streaming so gaily through the green trees as they bent over it till it reached the site destined for it, where it looked as much at home as if it were too grave and steady a thing to take the step it had done. this was in march--we had been waiting some time for snow, as to move without it would have been a difficult task; for, plentifully as new brunswick is supplied with that commodity, at some seasons much delay and loss is experienced for want of it--the sleighing cannot be done, and wheel carriages cannot run, the roads are so rough and broken with the frost--the cold is then more intense, and the cellars, (the sole store-houses and receptacles of the chief comforts) without their deep covering of snow, become penetrated by the frost, and their contents much injured, if not totally destroyed--this is a calamity that to be known must be experienced--the potatoes stored here are the chief produce of the farm, at least the part that is most available for selling, for hay should never go off the land, and grain is as yet so little raised that 'tis but the old farmers can do what is called "_bread themselves:_" thus the innovation of the cellars by the _frost fiend_ is a sad and serious occurrence--of course a deep bank of earth is thrown up round the house, beneath which, and generally its whole length and breadth, is the cellar; but the snow over this is an additional and even necessary defence, and its want is much felt in many other ways--in quantity, however, it generally makes up for its temporary absence by being five and six feet deep in april. about this season the warm sun begins to beam out, and causes the sap to flow in the slumbering trees--this is the season for sugar-making, which, although an excellent thing if it can be managed, is not much attended to, especially in new settlements, and those are generally the best off for a "_sugar-bush_;" but it occurs at that season when the last of the winter work must be done--the snow begins to melt on the roads, and the "saw whet," a small bird of the owl species, makes its appearance, and tells us, as the natives say, that "_the heart of the winter is broken_." all that can be done now must be done to lessen the toils of that season now approaching, from which the settler must not shrink if he hope to prosper. sugar-making, then, unless the farmer is strong handed, is not profitable. a visit to a sugar-camp is an interesting sight to a stranger--it may, perhaps, be two or three miles through the woods to where a sufficient number of maple trees may be found close enough together to render it eligible for sugar-making. all the different kinds of maple yield a sweet sap, but the "rock maple" is the species particularly used for sugar, and perhaps a thousand of these trees near together constitute what is called a _sugar-bush_. here, then, a rude hut, but withal picturesque in its appearance, is erected--it is formed of logs, and covered with broad sheets of birch bark. for the universal use of this bark i think the indians must have given the example. many beautiful articles are made by them of it, and to the back settlers it is invaluable. as an inside roofing, it effectually resists the rain--baskets for gathering the innumerable tribe of summer berries, and boxes for packing butter are made of it--calabashes for drinking are formed of it in an instant by the bright forest stream. many a new brunswick belle has worn it for a head-dress as the dames of more polished lands do frames of french willow; and it is said the title deeds of many a broad acre in america have been written on no other parchment than its smooth and vellum-like folds. the sugar-maker's bark-covered hut contains his bedding and provisions, consisting of little save the huge round loaf of bread, known as the "shanty loaf"--his beverage, or substitute for tea, is made of the leaves of the winter green, or the hemlock boughs which grow beside him, and his sweetening being handy bye, he wants nothing more. a notch is cut in the tree, from which the sap flows, and beneath it a piece of shingle is inserted for a spout to conduct it into troughs, or bark dishes, placed at the foot of the tree. the cold frosty nights, followed by warm sunny days, making it run freely, clear as water, and slightly sweet--from these troughs, or bark dishes, it is collected in pails, by walking upon the now soft snow, by the aid of snow shoes, and poured into barrels which stand near the boilers, ready to supply them as the syrup boils down. when it reaches the consistence required for sugar, it is poured into moulds of different forms. visits to these sugar camps are a great amusement of the young people of the neighbourhood in which they are, who make parties for that purpose--the great treat is the candy, made by dashing the boiling syrup on the snow, where it instantly congeals, transparent and crisp, into sheets. at first the blazing fire and boiling cauldron look strange, amid the solemn loneliness of the forest, along whose stately aisles of cathedral-like grandeur the eye may gaze for days, and see no living thing--the ear hear no sound, save it may be the tapping of the woodpecker, or the whispering of the wind as it sighs through the boughs, seeming to mourn with them for the time when the white man knew them not. but these thoughts pass away when the proprietor, with his pale intelligent face, shaded by a flapping sun hat from the glaring snow, presses us hospitably to "take along a junk of candy, a lump of sugar," or a cup of the syrup. he sees nothing picturesque or romantic in the whole affair, and only calculates if it will pay for the time it occupies; at the same time, with the produce of his labours he is extremely "_clever_," this being the term for generous or hospitable, and one is sometimes startled at its application, especially to women; the persons in england, to whom it is applied, are so unlike the clever women of new brunswick, those dear old creatures, who know not the difference between milton and dilworth, and whose very woollen gowns are redolent of all-spice and apples. towards the latter part of march and april the breaking up of the ice goes on gradually--some seasons, however, a sudden storm causes the ice and snow to disappear rapidly, but generally a succession of soft warm winds, and days partly sunshine and rain, does it more effectually, and prevents the heavy freshets in the rivers, which are often destructive, overflowing the low banks and carrying away with resistless force whatever buildings may be on them. after the disappearance of the snow, some time must elapse ere the land be in a fit state for sowing, consequently fencing, and such like, is now the farmer's employment, either around the new clearings, or in repairing those which have fallen or been removed during the winter. this, with attending to the stock, which at this season require particular care, gives them sufficient occupation--the sheep, which have long since been wearied of the "durance vile" which bound them to the hay-rick, may now be seen in groups on the little isles of emerald green which appear in the white fields; and the cattle, that for six long weary months have been ruminating in their stalls, or "chewing the cud of sweet and bitter fancy" in the barn yards, now begin to extend their perigrinations towards the woods, browsing with delight on the sweet young buds of the birch tree. at this season it is, for obvious reasons, desirable that the "milky mothers" should not stray far from home--many "a staid brow'd matron" has disappeared in the spring, and, after her summer rambles in the woods, returned in the "fall" with her full-grown calf by her side, but many a good cow has gone and been seen no more, but as a white skeleton gleaming among the green leaves. to prevent these mischances, a bell is fastened on the leader of the herd, the intention of which is to guide where they may be found. this bell is worn all summer, as their pasture is the rich herbage of the forest. it is taken off during the winter, and its first sounds now tell us, although the days are cold, and the snow not yet gone, that brighter times are coming. the clear concerts of the frogs ring loudly out from marsh and lake, and at this season alone is heard the lay of the wood-robin, and the blackbird. the green glossy leaves of the winter green, whose bright scarlet berries look like clusters of coral on the snow, now seem even brighter than they were--the blue violet rises among the sheltered moss by the old tree roots, and the broad-leaved adder tongue gives out its orange and purple blossoms to gladden the brown earth, while the trees are yet all black and barren, save the various species of pine and spruce, which now wear a fringe of softer green. the may flowers of new brunswick seldom blossom till june, which is rather an irish thing of them to do, and although the weather has been fine, and recalls to the memory the balmy breath of may, yet i have often seen a pearly wreath of new fallen snow, deck the threshhold on that 'merrie morn'. after the evaporation of the steaming vapour of spring has gone forward, and the farmer has operated in the way of ploughing and sowing, on whatever ready-prepared land he may have for the purpose, the first dry "_spell_" is looked forward to most anxiously to burn off the land which has been chopped during the winter--it is bad policy, however, to depend for the whole crop on this "_spring burn_," as a long continuance of wet weather may prevent it. the new settler, on his first season, has nothing else to depend upon; but the older ones chop the land at intervals during the summer, and clear it off in the autumn, and thus have it ready for the ensuing spring. burning a chopping, or _fallow_, as it is called, of twelve or fourteen acres in extent, is a grand and even awful sight: rushing in torrents of flame, it rolls with the wind, crackling and roaring through the brushwood, and often extending beyond the limits assigned it, catching the dry stems of ancient trees, the growth of the earlier ages of this continent, which lie in gigantic ruins, half buried in the rising soil, and which will be themes of speculation to the geologists of other days--it rushes madly among the standing trees of the woods, wreathing them to their summits in its wild embrace--they stand at night like lofty torches, or a park decked out with festal lamps for some grand gala. after this first burn, a _fallow_ presents a blackened scene of desolation and confusion, and requires, indeed, a strong arm and a stout heart to undertake its clearance; the small branches and brush-wood alone have been burnt, but the large logs or trunks lie all blackened but unconsumed. these must all be placed in regular piles or heaps, which are again fired, and burn steadily for a few hours, after which all traces of the noble forest are gone, save the blackened stumps and a few white ashes; it is then ready for planting or sowing, with the assistance of the hoe or harrow. and now, kind reader, if you have accompanied me thus far, will you have the kindness to suppose us fixed at last in our habitation--whitewashing, painting, and scrubbing done, and all the fuss of moving over--our fallow fenced and filled--the dark green stems of the wheat and oats standing thick and tall--the buck-wheat spreading its broad leaves, and the vines of the pumpkins and cucumbers running along the rich soil, where grows in luxuriance the potatoe, that root, valuable to new brunswick "as the bread-fruit tree to the sunny isles of owhyhee." suppose it, then, a bright and balmy day in the sunny ides of june--the earth is now in all the luxuriant pride of her summer beauty; for although the summer is long coming, yet, when it does begin, vegetation is so rapid that a few short days call it forth in all its loveliness; nay, the transition is so quick, that i have observed its workings in an hour's space. in the red sunlight of the morn i have seen the trees with their wintry sprays and brown leaf-buds all closed--when there fell a soft and refreshing shower--again the sunbeams lit the sky, and oh! the glorious change--the maple laughed out with her crimson blossoms and fair green leaves--the beech-tree unfolded her emerald plumes--the fairy stems of the aspen and birch were dancing in light, and the stately ash was enwreathed with her garland of verdant green--the spirit of spring seemed to have waved o'er them the wand of enchantment. on this bright day, of which i now speak, all this mighty change had been accomplished, and earth and air seemed all so delightful, one could hardly imagine that it could be improved by aught added to or taken from it. i am now just going to walk along the settlement to visit a friend, and if you will accompany me, i shall most willingly be your asmodeus. a straight and well-worked road runs through the settlement, which is about nine miles in length. this part of the country is particularly hilly, and from where we now stand we have a view of its whole extent. twenty years ago a blazed track was the only path through the dense forest to where, at its furthest extremity, one adventurous settler had dared to raise his _log hut_. the older inhabitants, who lived only on the margin of the rivers, laughed at the idea of clearing those high "_back lands_" where there was neither intervale or rivers, but he heeded them not, and his lonely hut became the nucleus of one of the most flourishing settlements in new brunswick. the woods have now retreated far back from the road, and at this season the grass and grain are so high that the stumps are all concealed. the scene is very different to the country landscapes of england. there there are square smooth fields enclosed with stone walls, neat white palings, or the hawthorn hedge, scenting the breezes with its balmy "honeysuckle," or sweet wild rose--song-birds filling the air with melody, and stately castles, towering o'er the peasant's lowly home, while far as the eye can reach 'twill rest but on some fair village dome or farm. here the worm or zigzag fence runs round the irregularly-shaped clearings, in the same rustic garb it wore when a denizen of the forest. the wild flowers here have no perfume, but the raspberries, which grow luxuriantly in the spaces made by the turnings of the fences, have a sweet smell, and there is a breath which tells of the rich strawberry far down among the shadowy grass. the birds during the hot months of summer have no song, but there are numbers of them, and of the brightest plumage. the fairy humming-bird, often in size no larger than a bee, gleams through the air like a flower with wings, and the bald eagle sits majestically on the old grey pines, which stand like lone monuments of the past, the storms and the lightnings having ages ago wreaked their worst upon them, and bereft them of life and limb, yet still they stand, all lofty and unscathed by the axe or the fire which has laid the younger forest low. the dwellings, either the primitive log-hut, the first home of the settler, or the more stately frame-buildings, stand each near the road, on the verge of its own clearing, which reaches back to where the dark woods form a back-ground to the scene. these stretch far and wide over the land, save where appears, amid their density, some lonely settlement or improvement of adventurous emigrant. those little spots, of how much importance to their owners, yet seem as nothing amid the vast forest. each dwelling in this country is in itself a theme for study and interest. here, on one side, is the home of an english settler--amid all the bustle and chopping and burning of a new farm, he has found time to plant a few fruit trees, and has now a flourishing young orchard, and a garden wherein are herbs of "fragrant smell and spicy taste," to give a warm relish to the night's repast. for the cultivation of a garden the natives, unless the more opulent of them, seem to care little; and outside the dwelling of a blue nose there is little to be seen, unless it be a cucumber bed among the chips, or a patch of indian corn. again, the scotch settlers may be known by the taste shown in selecting a garden spot--a gentle declivity, sloping to a silvery stream, by which stand a few household trees that he has permitted to remain--beneath them a seat is placed, and in some cherished spot, watched over with the tenderest care, is an exotic sprig of heath or broom. about the hibernian's dwelling may be a mixture of all these differing tastes, while perhaps a little of the national ingenuity may be displayed in a broken window, repaired with an old hat, or an approximation towards friendliness between the domestic animals and the inmates. with the interior of these dwellings one is agreeably surprised, they (that is, generally speaking), appear so clean and comfortable. outside the logs are merely hewed flat, and the interstices filled up with moss and clay, the roof and ends being patched up with boards and bark, or anything to keep out the cold. they certainly look rough enough, but within they are ceiled above and around with smooth shining boards; there are no walls daubed with white-wash, nor floors strewn with vile gritty sand, which last certainly requires all the sanctity of custom to render it endurable, but the walls and floors are as bright and clean as the scrubbing-brush and plenty of soap can make them. this great accessary to cleanliness, _soap_, is made at home in large quantities, the ashes of the wood burnt in the fire-place making the "ley," to which is added the coarser fat and grease of the animals used for home consumption. it costs nothing but the trouble of making, and the art is little. as regards cleanliness, the natives have something almost jewish in their personal observances of it as well as of their food. the blood of no animal is ever used, but flows to the earth from whence it sprung, and the poorest of them perform their ablutions before eating with oriental exactness; these habits are soon imparted to the emigrants, many of whom, when they first come out, all softly be it said, are by no means so nice. the large bright fires of the log house prevent all possible ideas of damp; they certainly are most delightful--those magnificent winter fires of new brunswick--so brilliant, so cheerful, and so warm--the charred coals, like a mass of burning rubies, giving out their heat beneath, while between the huge "_back-log_" and "_fore-stick,_" the bright flames dance merrily up the wide chimney. i have often heard people fancy a wood fire as always snapping and sparkling in your face, or green and smoky, chilling you with its very appearance, but those would soon change their opinion if they saw a pile of yellow birch and rock maple laid right "fore and aft" across the bright fire-dogs, the hearth swept up, and the chips beneath fanned with the broom, they would then see the union of light and heat in perfection. in one way it is preferable to coals, that is, while making on the fire you might if you chose wear white kid gloves without danger of soiling them. another comfort to the settler in the back woods is, that every stick you burn makes one less on the land. stoves, both for cooking and warming the houses, have long been used in the united states, and are gradually coming into common use in new brunswick. in the cities they are generally used, where fuel is expensive, as they require less fuel, and give more heat than open "fire-places;" but the older inhabitants can hardly be reconciled to them; they prefer the rude old hearth stone, with its bright light, to the dark stove. i remember once spending the evening at a house where the younger part of the family, to be fashionable, had got a new stove placed in the fire-place of "_'tother room_," which means, what in scotland is termed "_ben_" the house, and in england "the _parlour_." this was the first evening of its being put in operation. i observed the old gentleman (a first-rate specimen of a blue nose) looked very uncomfortable and fidgetty. for a time he sat twirling his thumbs in silence, when suddenly a thought seemed to strike him: he left the room, and shortly after the draught-hole of the stove grew dark, and a cloud of smoke burst forth from it. the old gentleman came in, declaring he was almost suffocated, and that it was "all owing to _that nasty ugly yankee critter_," the stove. he instantly had it taken down, and was soon gazing most comfortably on a glorious pile of burning wood, laid on by himself, with the most scientific regard to the laws of _levity, concavity_, and _contiguity_ requisite in fire-making; and by the twinkle of his eye i knew that he was enjoying the ruse he had employed to get rid of the stove, for he had quietly stopped the flue. for the mere convenience of the thing, i think a stove is decidedly preferable. in this country, where people are generally their own cooks as well as everything else, they learn to know how the most and the best work can be done with the least time and trouble. with the stove there is not that roasting of the face and hands, nor confused jumble of pots and pans, inseparable from a kitchen fire; but upon the neat little polished thing, upon which there is nothing to be seen but a few bright covers, you can have the constituents of a new brunswick breakfast, "_cod-fish and taters_," for twice laid, fried ham, hot rolls, and pancakes, all prepared while the tea kettle is boiling, and experience whilst arranging them no more heat than on a winter morning, is quite agreeable. in the furniture of these back-wood dwellings there is nothing rich or costly, yet there is such an air of neatness diffused over it, and effect brought out, that they always recalled to me the painted cottage scenes of a theatre. but here is a house at which i have a call to make, and which will illustrate the "_mènage_" of a new brunswicker. remember, this is not one of the old settlers, who have overcome all the toil and inconvenience of clearing and building, and are now enjoying the comforts they have earned, but it is the log-house of a new farm, around which the stumps yet stand thick and strong, and where the ringing of the axe is yet heard incessantly. in this working country people are, in general, like the famous mrs. gilpin, who, though on pleasure bent, had yet a frugal mind, and contrive to make business and amusement go together; and although i had left home with the intention of paying a visit, a little business induces me to pause here, ere i proceed to where i intended; and even here, while arranging this, i shall enjoy myself as much as though i were sackless of thought or interest in anything save amusement. the manufacture of the wool raised on the farm is the most important part of the women's work, and in this the natives particularly excel. as yet i knew not the mysteries of colouring brown with butternut bark, nor the proper proportion of _sweet fern_ and indigo to produce green, so that our wool, on its return from the carding mill, had been left with this person--lady, "par courtesie,"--who was a perfect adept in the art, to be spun and wove: and the business on which i now call is to arrange with her as to its different proportions and purposes. what for blankets, for clothing, or for socks and mittens, which all require a different style of manufacture, and are all items of such importance during the winter snows. melancthon grey, whose most christian and protestant appellation was abbreviated into "lank," was a true-blooded blue nose. his father had a noble farm of rich intervale on the banks of the river saint john, and was well to do in the world. lank was his eldest son, yet no heritage was his, save his axe and the arm which swung it. the law of primogeniture exists not in this country, and the youngest son is frequently heir to that land on which the older ones have borne the "heat and burthen of the day," and rendered valuable by their toil, until each chooses his own portion in the world, by taking unto himself a wife and a lot of forest land, and thus another hard-won _homestead_ is raised, and sons enough to choose among for heirs. melancthon grey had wedded his cousin, a custom common among the "blue noses," and which most likely had its origin in the patriarchal days of the earlier settlers, when the inhabitants were few. sybèl was a sweet pretty girl, deficient, as the americans all are, in those high-toned feelings which characterise the depth of woman's love in the countries of europe, yet made, as they generally do, an affectionate wife, and a fond and doating mother. those two names, sybèl and melancthon, had a strange sound in the same household, awaking, as they always did in my dreamy fancy, a train of such differing memories. sybèl recalling the days of early rome, the haughty tarquin and his mysterious prophetess, while melancthon brought back the "reformation," and the best and most pious of its fathers. in the particular of names, the americans have a decided "penchant" for those of euphonious and peculiar sound--they are selected from sacred and profane history, ancient and modern. to them, however, there is little of meaning attached by those who give them save the sound. i have known one family reckon among its members a solon and solomon, a hector and wellington, a bathsheba and lucretia; and the two famous johns, bunyan and wesley, have many a name-sake. these, in their full length, are generally saved for holiday terms, and abbreviations are made for every-day use. in these they are ingenious in finding the shortest, and _theodore_, that sweetest of all names, i have heard curtailed to "_od_," which seems certainly an odd enough cognomen. sybèl's bridal portion consisted of a cow and some sheep--her father's waggon which brought her home contained some household articles her mother's care had afforded--melancthon had provided a barrel of pork and one of flour, some tea and molasses, that staple commodity in transatlantic housekeeping. amongst sybèl's chattels were a bake-pan and tea-kettle, and thus they commenced the world. melancthon has not yet had time to make a gate at his dwelling, and our only mode of entrance must be either by climbing the "fence" or unshipping the "_bars_," which form one pannel, and which are placed so as to be readily removed for the passage of a carriage, but from us this will require both time and strength, so at the risk of tearing our dress we will e'en take the fence. this is a feat which a novice does most clumsily, but which those who are accustomed to it do most gracefully. as we approach the dwelling, the housewife's handy-work is displayed in a pole hung with many a skein of snow white yarn, glistening in the sunlight. four years have passed since sybèl was a bride---her cheek has lost the bloom of girlhood, and has already assumed the hollow form of new brunswick matrons; her dress is home-spun, of her own manufacture, carded and spun by her own hands, coloured with dye stuffs gathered in the woods, woven in a pretty plaid, and neatly made by herself. this is also the clothing of her husband and children; a bright gingham handkerchief is folded inside her dress, and her rich dark hair is smoothly braided. in this particular the natives display a good taste--young women do not enshroud themselves in a cap the day after their marriage, as if glad to be done with the trouble of dressing their hair; and unless from sickness a cap is never worn by any one the least youthful. the custom commences with the children, for infants never have their heads covered during the day. at first the little bald heads seem unsightly to a stranger, but when the eye gets accustomed, they look much better in their own natural beauty then when decked out in lace and muslin. the plan of keeping the head cool seems to answer well, for new brunswick may rival any country in the world for a display of lovely infants. sybèl has the delicacy of appearance which the constant in-door occupation of the women gives them, differing much from the coarse, but healthier look of those countries where the females assist in field labours. the "blue nose" considers it "_agin all nature_" for women to work out, and none are ever seen so employed, unless it be the families of emigrants before they are naturalised. a flush of delight crimsons sybèl's pale face as she welcomes me in, for simple and retired as her life is, she yet cherishes in her heart all the fondness for company and visiting inherent to her sex, and loves to enjoy them whenever opportunity permits. no excuse would be listened to,--i must stay dinner--my bonnet is untied, and placed upon the bed--sybèl has churned in the early cool of the morning, and she has now been working over the golden produce of her labours with a wooden ladle in a tray. with this ladle the butter is taken from the churn; the milk beaten out, and formed by it into rolls--nothing else is employed, for moulds or prints are not used as in england. she has just finished, and placed it in her dairy, a little bark-lined recess adjoining the house--and now, on hospitable thoughts intent, she has caught up her pail and is gone for water--in this we are most luxurious in new brunswick, never keeping any quantity in the house, but using it bright and sparkling as it gushes from the spring. while she is gone, we will take a pencilling of her dwelling. a beautiful specimen of still-life, in the shape of a baby six months old, reposes in its cradle--its eye-lids' long and silky fringes are lightly folded in sleep on its smooth round cheek. another older one is swinging in the rocking chair, playing with some chips and bark, the only toys of the log house--this single apartment serves the family for parlour, for kitchen, and hall--the chamber above being merely used as a store room, or receptacle for lumber--'tis the state bed-room as well, and on the large airy-looking couch is displayed a splendid coverlet of home-spun wool, manufactured in a peculiar style, the possessing of which is the first ambition of a back-wood matron, and for which she will manoeuvre as much as a city lady would for some _bijou of a chiffionier_, or centre table--sybèl has gained her's by saving each year a portion of the wool, until she had enough to accomplish this sure mark of industry, and of _getting along in the world_; for if they are not getting along or improving in circumstances their farms will not raise sheep enough to yield the wool, and if they are not industrious the yarn will not be spun for this much-prized coverlet, which, despite the local importance attached to it, is a useful, handsome and valuable article in itself. on a large chest beside the bed are laid piles of snow white blankets, and around the walls are hung the various woollen garments which form the wardrobe of the family. bright-hued indian baskets stand on top of each other--a pair of beaded moccasins and a reticule of porcupine quills are hung up for ornament. the pine table and willow-seated chairs are all made in the "bush," and even into this far back settlement has penetrated the prowess of the renowned "sam slick, of slickville." one of his wooden-made yankee clocks is here--its case displaying "a most elegant picture" of cupid, in frilled trowsers and morocco boots, the american prototype of the little god not being allowed to appear so scantily clad as he is generally represented. a long rifle is hung over the mantle-piece, and from the beams are suspended heads of indian corn for seed; by them, tied in bunches, or in paper bags, is a complete "hortus siccus" of herbs and roots for medicinal as well as culinary purposes. bone set and lobelia, sage and savory, sarsaparilla, and that mysterous bark which the natives say acts with a different effect, according as it is peeled up or down the tree--cat-nip and calamus root for the baby, with dried marigold leaves, balm of gilead buds, and a hundred others, for compounding the various receipts they possess, as remedies for every complaint in the world. many of these they have learnt from the indians, whose "ancient medicine men" are well versed in the healing powers with which the herbs of the forest and the field are gifted. on a small shelf is laid the library, which consists but of the bible, a new almanac, and humbert's union harmony, the province manual of sacred music, of which they are most particularly fond; but the air of the country is not favourable to song, and their melody always seemed to me "harmony not understood," meanwhile, for the last half-hour, sybèl has been busily engaged in cooking, at which the natives are most expeditious and expert. i know not how they would be in other countries, but i know that at home they are first-rate--no other can come up to them in using the materials and implements they are possessed of. by the accustomed sun-mark on the floor, which sybèl prefers to the clock, she sees 'tis now the hungry hour of noon, and blows the horn for lank to come to dinner. this horn is a conk shell, bored at one end, and its sound is heard at a great distance. at the hours of meal-time it may be heard from house to house, and, ringing through the echoing woods from distant settlements, telling us, amid their loneliness, of happy meetings at the household board; but it comes, too, at times, when its sounds are heralds of trouble and dismay. i have heard it burst upon the ear at the silent hour of midnight, and, starting from sleep, seen the sky all crimsoned with the flames of some far off dwelling, whose inmates thus called for assistance; but long ere that assistance could be given, the fire would have done its worst of destruction, perhaps of death. i have also heard it, when twilight gathered darkly o'er the earth, floating sad and mournfully since sun-set, from some dwelling in the forest's depths, whose locality, but for the sounds, would not be known. some member of the family has been lost in the woods, and the horn is blown to guide him homewards through the trackless wilderness. how sweet must those sounds be to the benighted wanderer, bearing, as they do, the voice of the heart, and telling of love and affectionate solicitude! but melancthon has driven his ox-team to the barn, and now, with the baby on his lap, which, like all the blue-noses, he loves to nurse, sits down to table, where we join him. the dinner, as is often the case in the backwoods in summer, is "a regular pick-up one," that is, composed of any thing and every thing. people care little for meat in the hot weather; and, in fact, a new settler generally uses his allowance of beef and pork during the long winter, so that the provision for summer depends principally on fish, with which the country is amply supplied, and the produce of the dairy. the present meal consists of fine trout from the adjoining stream, potatoes white as snow-balls, and, pulverising on the dish, some fried ham, and young french beans, which grow there in the greatest luxuriance, climbing to the top of their lofty poles till they can grow no higher. i have often thought them scions of that illustrious bean-stalk owned by jack in the fairy tale. we have also a bowl of salad, and home-made vinegar prepared from maple sap, a large hot cake, made with indian meal, and milk and dried blue-berries, an excellent substitute for currants. buscuits, of snow white tenessee flour, raised with cream and sal-a-ratus. this last article, which is used in place of yeast, or eggs, in compounding light cakes, can also be made at home from ley of the wood ashes, but it is mostly bought in town. the quantity of this used is surprising, country "store-keepers" purchasing barrels to supply their customers. a raspberry pie, and a splendid dish of strawberries and cream, with tea (the inseparable beverage of every meal in new brunswick), forms our repast; and such would it be in ninety-nine houses out of a hundred of the class i am describing. many of the luxuries, and all the necessaries of life, can be raised at home, by those who are industrious and spirited enough to take advantage of their resources. melancthon this year expects to _bread himself_, as well as grow enough of hay to winter his stock. since he commenced farming he purchased what was not raised on the land by the sale of what was cut off it--that is, by selling ash timber and cord-wood he procured what he required. this, however, can only be done where there is water conveyance to market. the indefatigable melancthon had four miles to "haul" his marketable wood; but, when the roads were bad, he was chopping and clearing at the same time, and when the snow was well beaten down, with his little french horse and light sled he soon drew it to the place from whence the boats are loaded in the spring. dinner being now finished, and after some conversation, which must of course be of a very local description, although it is brightened with many a quiet touch of wit, of which the natives possess a great original fund, and melancthon, having finished in the forenoon harrowing in his buck-wheat, has now gone with his axe to hew at a house-frame which he has in preparation, and sybèl and i having settled our affair of warp and woof, it is now time for me to proceed. she with her large swiss-looking sun-hat, placed lightly on her brow, accompanies me to the "bars," and there, having parted with her, we will now resume our walk. the next lot presents one of those scenes of desolation and decay which will sometimes appear even in this land of improvement. what had once been a large clearing is now grown wild with bushes, the stumps have all sprouted afresh, and the fences fallen to the ground. the house presents that least-respectable of all ruins, a deserted _log-building._ there is no solidity of material nor remains of architectural beauty to make us respect its fate. 'tis decay in its plainest and most uninteresting aspect. a few flowers have been planted near the house, and even now, where the weeds grow dark and rank, a fair young rose is waving her lovely head. the person who had gone thus far on in the toils of settling was from england, but the love of his native land burned all too bright within his heart. in vain he toiled on those rude fields, and though his own, they seemed not his home. the spirit voices of the land of his childhood called him back--he obeyed their spell, and just at the time his labours would have been repaid, he left, and, with all the money he could procure, paid his passage to england, where he soon after died in the workhouse of his parish. yet even there the thought, perhaps, might soothe him, that though he filled a pauper's grave, it was in the soil where his fathers slept. the forsaken lot is still unclaimed, for people prefer the woodlands to those neglected clearings, from which to procure a crop infinitely more trouble and expense would be required than in taking it at once from the forest. our way is not now so lonely as it was in the morning. parties of the male population are frequently passing. one of the settlers has to-day a "barn-raising frolic," and thither they are bound. they present a fair specimen of their class in the forest settlements. the bushwhacker has nothing of the "bog-trotter" in his appearance, and his step is firm and free, as though he trod on marble floor. the attire of the younger parties which, although coarse, is perfectly clean and whole, has nothing rustic in its arrangement. his kersey trowsers are tightly strapped, and the little low-crowned hat, with a streaming ribbon, is placed most jauntily on his head. his axe is carried over one shoulder and his jacket over the other, which in summer is the common mode of carrying this part of the apparel. those who have been _lumbering_ may easily be known among the others, by sporting a flashy stock or waistcoat, and by being arrayed in "_boughten_" clothes, procured in town at a most expensive rate in lieu of their _lumber_. little respect is, however, paid here to the cloth, (that is, broadcloth), for it is a sure sign of bad management, and most likely of debt, for the back settlers to be arrayed in any thing but their own home-made clothing. the grave and serious demeanour of these people is as different from the savage scowl of the discontented peasant, murmuring beneath the burthen of taxation and ill-remunerated toil, as from the free, light-hearted, and careless laughter, both of which characterise the rural groups in the fertile fields of england. new brunswick is the land of strangers; even the first settlers, the "sons of the soil," as they claim to be, have hardly yet forgot their exile, a trace of which character, be he prosperous as he may, still hovers over the emigrant. their early home, with its thousand ties of love, cannot be all forgotten. this feeling descends to their children, losing its tone of sadness, but throwing a serious shade over the national character, which, otherwise has nothing gloomy or melancholy in its composition. there is also a kind of "_looking a-head_" expression of countenance natural to the country, which is observed even in the children, who are not the careless frolicsome beings they are in other countries, but are here more truly miniature men and women, looking, as the yankees express it, as if they had all cut their "_eye-teeth_." but here we are, for the present, arrived at the bourne of our journey. high on a lofty hill before us stands a large frame building, the place of worship as well as the principal school-house of the settlement. this double purpose it is not, however, destined long to be devoted to, for the building of a church is already in contemplation, and will, no doubt, soon be proceeded with. the beaming sun is shining with dazzling radiance on its white walls, telling, in fervent whispers, that a shelter from the heat will be desirable; so here we will enter, where the shadowy trees, and bright stream glancing through the garden flowers, speak of inhabitants from the olden world. a frame building has been joined to the original log-house, and the dwelling thus made large enough to accommodate the household. mrs. gordon, the lady of the mansion, and the friend i have come thus far to see, is one of those persons the brilliance of whose gem-like character has been increased by the hard rubs of the world. she has experienced much of time's chance and change--experiences and trials which deserve relating at large, and which i shall hereafter give, as they were told me by herself. traces of the beauty she once possessed are yet pourtrayed on her faded but placid brow, and appear in brighter lines on the fair faces of her daughters. her husband is from home, and the boys are gone to the frolic, so we will have a quiet evening to ourselves. the arrangement of this dwelling, although similar in feature to sybèl gray's, is yet, as it were, different in expression; for instance, there is not such a display made of the home-manufactured garments, which it is the pride of her heart to look upon. these, of course, are here in existence, but are placed in another receptacle; and the place they hold along the walls of sybèl's dwelling is here occupied by a book-case, in which rests a store of treasured volumes; our conversation, too, is of a different cast from the original, yet often commonplace, remarks of melancthon. 'tis most likely a discussion of the speculative fancies contained in those sweet brighteners of our solitude, the books; or in tracing the same lights and shadows of character described in them, as were occurring in the passages of life around us; or, perhaps, something leads us to talk of him whose portrait hangs on the wall, the peasant bard of scotland, whose heart-strung harp awakens an answering chord in every breast. the girls--who although born in this country and now busied in its occupations, one in guiding the revolving wheel, and the other in braiding a hat of poplar splints--join us in a manner which tells how well they have been nurtured in the lore of the "mountain heathery land," the birth-place of their parents; and the younger sister helen's silvery voice breathes a soft strain of scottish melody. meanwhile a pleasant interruption occurs in the post-horn winding loud and clear along the settlement. this is an event of rare occurrence in the back woods, where the want of a regular post communication is much felt, not so much in matters of worldly importance in business--these being generally transacted without the medium of letters--as by those who have loved ones in other lands. alas! how often has the heart pined with the sickness of hope deferred, in waiting in vain for those long-expected lines, from the distant and the dear, which had been duly sent in all the spirit of affection, but which had been mislaid in their wanderings by land or sea; or the post-masters not being particularly anxious to know where the land of goshen, the pembroke, or the canaan settlements were situated, had returned them to the dead letter office, and thus they never reached the persons for whom they were intended, and who lived on upbraiding those who, believing them to be no longer dwellers of the earth, cherished their memory with fondest love. taking all these things into consideration, a meeting had been called in our settlement to ascertain if by subscription a sufficient sum could be raised to pay a weekly courier to assert our rights at the nearest post-office. this was entered into with spirit, all feeling sensible of the benefits which it would bring; they who could afford it giving freely of their abundance, and those who could not pay their subscription all in money, giving half a dollar cash, and a bushel or half a bushel of buck wheat or potatoes to the cause; and thus the sum necessary was soon raised--the courier himself subscribing a dollar towards his own salary. the thing had gone on very well--communication with the world seemed to have commenced all at once. nearly every family took a different newspaper, and these being exchanged with each other, afforded plenty of food for the mind, and prevented it brooding too deeply over the realities of life. the newspapers in this country, especially those of the united states, are not merely dull records of parliamentary doings, of bill and debate, the rising of corn or falling of wheat, but contain besides reviews and whole copies of the newest and best works of the day, both in science and lighter literature. we dwellers of the forest had no guineas to give for new books, and if we had, unless we freighted ships home on purpose, we could not have procured them. but this was not felt, while for our few yearly dollars the albion's pearly paper and clear black type brought for society around our hearths the laughter-loving "lorrequer," the pathos of the portrait painter, or the soul-winning christopher north, whose every word seems written in letters of gold, incrusted with precious jewels. in the "new world" froissart gave his chronicles of the olden time, and the mammoth sheets of "era" and "the notion" brought us the peerless pages of "zanoni," or led us away with "dickens" and "little nell," by the green glades and ancient churches of england. little did we think while we read with delight of this author's princely welcome to the american continent, what would be the result of his visit, he came and passed like the wild simoom. soon after his return to england an edict came, forbidding in the british provinces of america publications containing reprints of english works. of the deeper matters connected with the copyright question i know not, but this i do know, that our long winter nights seemed doubly long and drear, with nothing to read but dark details of horrid murder, or deadly doings of rebeccaite and chartist. as yet, however, this time was not come, and each passing week saw us now enlightened with the rays of some new bright gem of genius. the postman blew his horn as he passed each dwelling for whose inmates he had letters or papers; and for those whose address lay beyond his route, places of depository were appointed in the settlement. mrs. gordon's was one of these, from whence they were duly despatched by the first chance to their destinations on the nashwaak, waterloo, or windsor clearings. although our mercury would duly have signalised his approach as he passed our own dwelling, i possessed myself of my treasure here--my share of the priceless wealth of that undying intellect which is allowed to pour its brilliant flood, freely and untramelled, to the lowliest homes of the american world. having glanced along the lines and seen that our first favourites had visited us this week, our tea seemed to bear with it an added fragrance; and this, although the walls around us were of logs, we had in fairy cups of ancient porcelain from the distant land of scotland. and now the sun's broad disc having vanished behind the lofty pines, and the young moon rising in the blue heavens, tell us our short twilight will soon be gone, and that if we would reach home before the stars look out upon our path, 'tis time we were on our way. the cow bells are ringing loud and clear as the herd winds slowly homeward, looking most luxuriantly comfortable, and bearing with them the spicy scent of the cedar-woods in which they have been wandering, and which they seem to leave so unwillingly. philoprogenitiveness, or a deep feeling of motherly affection, being the only thing that does voluntarily induce them to come home. to encourage this desirable feeling the leader of the herd, the lady of the bell, is allowed to suckle her calf every evening. for this happy task she leaves all the delights of her pasture, plodding regularly homeward at the hour of sunset, the rest all meekly following in her train. the evening is dry and clear, with no trace of rain in the atmosphere, or we would be surrounded with clouds of those _awful critturs_, the musquitoes, which the cattle bring home. these are often a dreadful annoyance, nothing but a thick cloud of smoke dispelling them, and that only for a time. at night they are particularly a nuisance, buzzing and stinging unceasingly through the silent hours, forbidding all thought of sleep till the dawn shows them clinging to the walls and windows, wearied and bloated with their night's amusement. those who are sufficiently acclimated suffer comparatively little--'tis the rich blood of the stranger that the musquito loves, and emigrants, on the first season, especially in low marshy situations, suffer extremely from their attacks. mary gordon having now gone with her pails to meet her milky charge, while her mother arranges the dairy within, helen comes to set me on my way. again we meet the frolickers returning rather earlier than is usual on such occasions; but there was sickness at the dwelling where they had been, which caused them to disperse soon after they had accomplished the "raising." kindly greetings passed between us; for here, in this little world of ours, we have hardly room for the petty distinctions and pettier strifes of larger communities. we are all well acquainted with each other, and know each other's business and concerns as well as our own. there is no concealment of affairs. this, however, saves a vast deal of trouble--people are much easier where there is no false appearance to be kept up; and in new brunswick there is less of "behind the scenes" than in most places. many a bright eye glances under helen's shadowy hat: and, see, one gallant axe-man lingers behind the others--he pauses now by the old birch tree--i know he is her lover, and in charity to their young hearts i must allow her to turn, while we proceed onward. the fire-flies now gleam through the air like living diamonds, and the evening star has opened her golden eye in the rich deep azure of the sky. our home stands before us, with its white walls thrown in strong relief by the dark woods behind it: and here, on this adjoining lot, lives our neighbour who is ill--he who to-day has had the "barn raising." it would be but friendly to call and enquire for him. the house is one of the best description of log buildings. the ground floor contains two large apartments and a spacious porch, which extends along the front, has the dairy in one end and a workshop in the other, that most useful adjunct to a new brunswick dwelling, where the settlers are often their own blacksmiths and carpenters, as well as splint pounders and shingle weavers. the walls are raised high enough to make the chamber sufficiently lofty, and the roof is neatly shingled. as we enter, an air of that undefinable english ideality--comfort--seems diffused, as it were, in the atmosphere of the place. there is a look of retirement about the beds, which stand in dim recesses of the inner apartment, with their old but well-cared-for chintz hangings, differing from the free uncurtained openness of the blue nose settler's couch; a publicity of sleeping arrangements being common all over america, and much disliked by persons from the old countries, a bed being a prominent piece of furniture in the sitting and keeping rooms of even those aristocratic personages, the first settlers. the large solid-looking dresser, which extends nearly along one side of the house, differs too from the light shelf of the blue nose, which rests no more crockery than is absolutely necessary. here there is a wide array of dishes, large and small--old china tea-cups, wisely kept for show,--little funny mugs, curious pitchers, mysterious covered dishes, unearthly salad bowls, and a host of superannuated tea-pots. above them is ranged a bright copper kettle, a large silvery pewter basin, and glittering brazen candlesticks, all brought from their english home, and borne through toil and danger, like sacred relics, from the shrine of the household gods. the light of the fire is reflected on the polished surface of a venerable oaken bureau, whose unwieldy form has also come o'er the deep sea, being borne along the creeks and rivers of new brunswick, and dragged through forest paths to its present resting place. in the course of its wanderings by earth and ocean it has become minus a foot, the loss of which is supplied by an unsmoothed block of pine, the two forming not an inapt illustration of their different countries. the polished oaken symbol of england receiving assistance in its hour of need from the rude but hardy pine emblem of new brunswick. the room is cool and quiet; the young people being outside with a few who have lingered after the frolic. by the open window, around which a hop vine is enwreathed, in memory of the rose-bound casements of england, and through which comes a faint perfume from the balm of gilead trees, sits the invalid, seemingly refreshed with the pleasant things around him. he has been suffering from rheumatic fever caught in the changeful days of the early spring, when the moist air penetrates through nerve and bone, and when persons having the least tendency to rheumatism, or pulmonary complaints, cannot use too much caution. at no other season is new brunswick unhealthy; for the winter, although cold, is dry and bracing. the hot months are not so much so as to be injurious, and the bland breezes of the fall and indian summer are the most delightful that can be imagined. stephen morris had come from england, like the generality of new brunswick settlers, but lightly burthened with worldly gear--but gifted with the unpurchasable treasures of a strong arm and willing spirit, that is, a spirit resolved to do its best, and not be overcome with the difficulties to be encountered in the struggle of subduing the mighty wilderness. while he felled the forest, his wife, accustomed in her own country to assist in all field labours, toiled with him in piling and fencing as well as in planting and reaping. even their young children learned to know that every twig they lifted off the ground left space for a blade of grass or grain; beginning with this, their assistance soon became valuable, and the labour of their hands in the field soon lightened the burthen of feeding their lips. slowly and surely had stephen gone onward, keeping to his farm and minding nothing else, unlike many of the emigrants, who, while professing to be farmers, yet engage in other pursuits, particularly lumbering, which, although the mainspring of the province and source of splendid wealth to many of the inhabitants, has yet been the bane of others. allured by the visions of speedy riches it promises, they have neglected their farms, and engaged in its glittering speculations with the most ardent hopes, which have far oftener been blighted than realised. a sudden change in trade, or an unexpected storm in the spring, having bereft them of all, and left them overwhelmed in debt, with neglected and ruined lands, with broken constitutions, (for the lumberer's life is most trying to the health,) and often too with broken hearts, and minds all unfitted for the task of renovating their fortune. their life afterwards is a bitter struggle to get above water; that tyrant monster, their heavy debt, still chaining them downwards, devouring with insatiate greed their whole means, for interest or bond, until it be discharged; a hard matter for them to accomplish--so hard that few do it, and the ruined lumberer sinks, to the grave with its burthen yet upon him. stephen had kept aloof from this, and now surveyed, "----with pride beyond a monarch's spoil, his honest arm's own subjugated toil." a neighbour of his had come out from england at the same time he had done and commenced farming an adjoining lot, but he soon wearied of the slow returns of his land and commenced lumbering. for a time he went on dashingly, the merchants in town supplying him freely with provisions and everything necessary to carry on his timber-making--whilst stephen worked hard and lived poor, he enjoyed long intervals of ease and fared luxuriantly. but a change came: one spring the water was too low to get his timber down, the next the freshet burst at once and swept away the labour of two seasons, and ere he got another raft to market, the price had fallen so low that it was nearly valueless. he returned dispirited to his home and tried to conceal himself from his creditors, the merchants whom the sale of his timber was to have repaid for the supplies they had advanced; but his neglected fields showed now but a crop of bushes and wild laurel, or an ill-piled clearing, with a scanty crop of buck-wheat; while stephen morris looked from his window on fair broad fields from whence the stumps had all disappeared, where the long grass waved rich with clover-flowers between, and many a tract that promised to shine with autumn wreaths of golden grain; leaflets and buds were close and thick on the orchard he had planted, and where erst the wild-bush stood now bloomed the lovely rose. on a green hill before him stood the lofty frame of the building this evening raised, with all its white tracery of beam and rafter, a new but welcome feature in the landscape. a frame barn is the first ambition of the settler's heart; without one much loss and inconvenience is felt. hay and grain are not stacked out as in other countries, but are all placed within the shelter of the barn; these containing, as they often do, the whole hay crop, besides the grain and accommodation for the cattle, must, of course, be of large dimensions, and are consequently expensive. with this stephen had proceeded surely and cautiously as was his wont. in the winter he had hauled logs off his own land to the saw-mill to be made into boards. he cut down with much trouble some of the ancient pines which long stood in the centre of his best field, and from their giant trunks cut well-seasoned blocks, with which he made shingles in the stormy days of winter. thus by degrees he provided all the materials for enclosing and roofing, and was not obliged, as many are, to let the frame, (which is the easiest part provided, and which they often raise without seeming even to think how they are to be enclosed,) stand for years, like a huge grey skeleton, with timbers all warped and blackened by the weather. steadily as stephen had gone on, yet as the completion of his object became nearer he grew impatient of its accomplishment, and determined to have his barn ready for the reception of his hay harvest; and for this purpose he worked on, hewing at the frame in the spring, reckless of the penetrating rain, the chill wind, or the damp earth beneath, and thus, by neglect of the natural laws, he was thrown upon the couch of sickness, where he lay long. this evening, however, he was better, and sat gazing with pleased aspect on the scene, and then i saw his eyes turn from the fair green hill and its new erection to where, in the hollow of a low and marshy spot of land, stood the moss-grown logs and sunken walls of the first shelter he had raised for his cattle--his old log barn, which stood on the worst land of the farm, but when it was raised the woods around were dark and drear, and he knew not the good soil from the bad; yet now he thought how, in this unseemly place, he had stored his crop and toiled for years with unfailing health, where his arm retained its nerve, unstrung neither by summer's heat nor winter's cold, when the voice of his son, a tall stripling, who had managed affairs during his illness, recalled him to the present, which certainly to him i thought might wear no unfavourable aspect. he had literally caused the wilderness to blossom as the rose, and saw rising around him not a degenerate but an improving race, gifted far beyond himself with bright mental endowments, the spontaneous growth of the land they lived in, and which never flourish more fairly than when engrafted on the old english stem; that is, the children of emigrants, or the anglo-bluenoses, have the chance of uniting the high-aspiring impulses of young america to the more solid principles of the olden world, thus forming a decided improvement in the native race of both countries. but stephen has too much of human nature in him not to prefer the past, and i saw that the sunbeams of memory rested brightly on the old log barn, obscuring the privations and years of bitter toil and anxiety connected with it, and dimming his eyes to ought else, however better; so that i left him to his meditations, and after a step of sixty rods, the breadth of the lot, i am once more at home, where, as it is now dark, we will close the door and shut out the world, to this old country prejudice has made us attach a small wooden button inside, the only fastening, except the latch, i believe, in the settlement. bolts and bars being all unused, the business of locksmith is quite at a discount in the back woods, where all idea of a midnight robbery is unknown; and yet, if rumour was true, there were persons not far from us to whom the trade of stealing would not be new. one there was of whom it was said, that for this reason alone was new brunswick graced with his presence. he had in his own country been taken in a daring act of robbery, and conveyed in the dark of night to be lodged in gaol. the officers were kind-hearted, and, having secured his hands, allowed his wife to accompany him, themselves walking a short distance apart. at first the lady kept up a most animated conversation, apparently upbraiding the culprit for his conduct. he answered her, but by degrees he seemed so overcome by her remarks that he spoke no more, and she had all the discourse to herself. having arrived at their destination, the officers approached their prisoner, but he was gone, the wife alone remained. the darkness of the night bad favoured his escape while she feigned to be addressing him, and, having thus defeated the law, joined her spouse, and made the best of their way to america, where the workings of the law of kindness were exemplified in his case. his character being there generally unknown, he was treated and trusted as an honest man, and he broke not his faith. the better feelings were called into action; conscientiousness, though long subdued, arose and breathed through his spirit the golden rule of right. the days in america are never so short in winter as they are in europe, nor are they so long in summer, and there is always an hour or two of the cool night to be enjoyed ere the hour of rest comes. our evening lamp is already lighted, and our circle increased by the presence of the school-mistress. although in this country the local government has done much towards the advancement of schools, yet much improvement requires to be made--not in their simple internal arrangements, for which there is no regular system, but in the more important article of remuneration. the government allows twenty pounds a year to each school; the proprietors, or those persons who send their children to the school, agreeing to pay the teacher a like sum at least (though in some of the older settled parts of the country from forty to fifty pounds is paid by them); as part payment of this sum providing him with board, &c., &c., and this alone is the evil part of the scheme; this boarding in turn with the proprietors, who keep him a week or a month in proportion to the number of the pupils they send, and to make up their share of the year, for which term he is hired, as his engagement is termed--an expression how derogatory to the dignity of many a learned dominie? from this cause the teacher has no home, no depository for his books, which are lost in wandering from place to place; and if he had them, no chance for study: for the log-house filled with children and wheels is no fit abode for a student. this boarding system operates badly in many ways. the nature of the blue nose is still leavened with that dislike of coercive measures inherited from their former countrymen, the yankees. it extends to their children, and each little black-eyed urchin, on his wooden bench and dog-eared dilworth in hand, must be treated by his teacher as a free enlightened citizen. but even without this, where is there in any country a schoolmaster daring enough to use a ratan, or birch rod, to that unruly darling from whose mother he knows his evening reception will be sour looks, and tea tinged with sky-blue, but would not rather let the boy make fox-and-geese instead of, ciphering, say his lesson when he pleased, and have cream and short-cake for his portion. another disagreeable thing is, that fond and anxious as they are for "_larning_," they have not yet enough of it to appreciate the value of education. the schoolmaster is not yet regarded as the mightiest moral agent of the earth; the true vicegerent of the spirit from above, by which alone the soul is truly taught to plume her wings and shape her course for heaven. and in this country, where operative power is certain wealth, he who can neither wield axe or scythe may be looked on with a slight shade of contempt: but this only arises from constant association with the people; for were the schoolmaster more his own master, and less under their surveillance by having a dwelling of his own, his situation otherwise would be comfortable and lucrative. the state of school affairs begins to attract much notice from the legislature, and no doubt the present system of school government will soon be improved. a board of education is appointed in each county, whose office it is to examine candidates for the office of parish school teacher, and report to the local governor as to their competency, previous to his conferring the required license. trustees are also appointed in the several parishes, who manage the other business connected with them, such as regulating their number, placing masters where they are most wanted, and receiving and apportioning the sum appropriated to their support, or encouragement, by the government. mr. b. held this situation, and frequent were the visits of the lords of the birch to our domicile, either asking redress for fancied wrongs, or to discuss disputed points of school discipline. the female teachers are situated much the same, save that many of them, preferring a quiet home to gain, pay for their board out of their cash salary, and give up that which they could otherwise claim from the people. this, however, is by no means general, and the present mistress has come to stay her term with us, although having no occasion for the school, yet wishing to hasten the march of intellect through the back woods, we paid towards it, and boarded the teacher, as if we had. grace marley, who held this situation now, was a sweet wild-flower from the emerald isle, with spirits bright and changeful as the dewy skies of her own loved erin. her graceful but fully rounded figure shows none of those anatomical corners described by captain hamilton in the appearance of the native american ladies. her dark eye speaks with wondrous truth the promptings of her heart, and her brown hair lies like folds of satin on her cheek, from which the air of america has not yet drank all the rose light. from her fairy ear of waxen white hangs a golden pendant, the treasured gift of one far distant. before her, on the table, lies _chambers' journal_, which always found its way a welcome visitant to our settlement, soon after the spring fleet had borne it over the atlantic. she has been reading one of mrs. hall's stories, which, good as they are, are yet little admired by the irish in america. the darker hues which she pourtrays in the picture of their native land have become to them all softened in the distance; and by them is their country cherished there, as being indeed that beautiful ideal "first flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea." a slight indignant flush, raised by what she had been reading, was on her brow as i entered; but this gave place to the heart-crushing look of disappointment i had often seen her wear, as i replied in the negative to her question, if there was a letter for her. from where, or whom she expected this letter i knew not, yet as still week after week passed away and brought her none, the same shade had passed over her face. and now, reader, as the night wanes apace, and you no doubt are wearied with this day's journey through our settlement, i shall wish to you "a fair good night, with easy dreams and slumbers light," while i, who like most authors am not at all inclined to sleep over my own writing, will sketch what i know of the history of grace marley, whose memory forms a sweet episode in my transatlantic experiences. grace had been left an orphan and unprovided for in her own country, when a relation, who had been prosperous here, wrote for her to come out. she did come, and at first seemed happy, but 'twas soon evident her heart was not here, and she sighed to return to her native land, where the streams were brighter, and the grass grew greener than elsewhere. her friends, vexed at her obstinacy in determining so firmly to return, would give her no assistance for this purpose, fancying that she felt but that nostalgic sickness felt by all on their first arrival in america, and that like others she would become reconciled in time. but she was firm in her resolve, and to procure funds wherewithal to return she commenced teaching a school, for which her education had well qualified her. it was not likely that such a girl as grace would, in this land of marrying and giving in marriage, be without fonder solicitations to induce her to remain, and a tall blue nose, rejoicing in the appellation of leonidas van wort, and lord of six hundred noble acres, was heard to declare one fall, that she, for an irish girl, was "raal downright good-looking," and guessed he knew which way "his tracks would lay when snow came." snow did come, and leonidas, arrayed in his best "go-to-meeting style," geared up his sleigh, and what with bear skins and bells, fancying himself and appurtenances enough to charm the heart of any maid or matron in the back woods, set off to spark grace marley. "sparking," the term used in new brunswick for courtship, now that the old fashion of "bundling" is gone out, occupies much of the attention (as, indeed, where does it not?) of young folks. they, for this purpose, take moore's plan of lengthening their days, by "stealing a few hours from the night," and generally breathe out their tender vows, not beneath the "milk-white thorn," but by the soft dim light of the birch-wood fire; the older members of the family retiring and leaving the lovers to their own sweet society. although it has been sometimes observed that mothers who, in their own young days, have been versed in this custom, insist most pertinaciously in sitting out the wooer, in spite of insinuations as to the pleasure their absence would occasion, still keep their easy chair, with unwearied eyes and fingers busied in their everlasting knitting. grace's beau was most hospitably received by her aunt and uncle, who considering him quite an "eligible," wished to further him all in their power, soon left the pair to themselves, telling grace that it would be the height of rudeness not to follow the custom of the country. she politely waited for leonidas to commence the conversation, but he, unused to her proceeding, could say nothing, not even ask her if she liked maple sugar; and so, being unused to deep study, while thinking how to begin, fell asleep, a consummation grace was most delighted to witness. by the fire stood the small american churn, which, as is often the case in cold weather, had been placed there to be in readiness for the morrow; this grace, with something of the quiet humour which made jeanie deans treat dumbie-dykes to fried peats in place of collops, she lifted and placed it by the sleeper's side, throwing over it a white cloth, which fell like folds of drapery, and softly retired to rest herself. her uncle, on coming into the room at the dawn of morning, beheld the great leonidas still sleeping, and his arm most lovingly encircling the churn dash, which no doubt in his dreams he mistook for the taper waist of grace, when the loud laugh of the old man and his "helps," who had now risen, roused him. he got up and looked round him, but, with the spartan firmness of his name-sake, said nothing, but went right off and married his cousin prudence prague, who could do all the sparking talk herself. many another lover since then had grace--many a mathematical schoolmaster, to whom euclid was no longer a mystery, became, for her sake, puzzled in the problem of love, and earnestly besought her to solve the question he gave, with the simple statement of yes. but still her heart was adamant, and still she was unwon, and sighed more deeply for her island home. she disliked the country, and its customs more. her religion was roman catholic, and she cherished all the tenets of her faith with the deepest devotion. i remember calling on her one sunday morning and finding her alone in her solitary dwelling; her relations, themselves catholics, having gone, and half the settlement with them, to meeting, but she preferred her solitude rather than join in their unconsecrated worship. this want of their own peculiar means of grace is much felt by religiously inclined persons in the forest settlements, and this made her wish more earnestly for the closing of the year to come, when, with the produce of her school labours, she would be enabled to leave. such was, up to this period, what i knew of grace's character and history. i was extremely fond of her society and conversation, as she, coming from that land of which 'tis said, her every word, her wildest thought, is poetry, had, in her imaginings, a twilight tinge of blue, which made her remarks truly delightful. she had become a little more softened in her prejudice, especially as she expected soon to leave the country, so that one day during her stay with us, in this same bright summer weather, i induced her to accompany me to a great baptist meeting, to be held in a river settlement some four or five miles off. on reaching the creek, the rest of our party, who had acquired the true american antipathy to pedestrianism, proceeded in canoes and punts to the place, but we preferred a walk to the dazzling glare of the sunshine on the water, so took not the highway, but a path through the forest, called the blazed track, from a chip or slice being made on the trees to indicate its line, and which you must keep sight of, or else go astray in the leafy labyrinth. when i first trod the woods of new brunswick, i fancied wild animals would meet me at each step--every black log was transformed into some shaggy monster--visions of bears and lucifee's were ever before me--but these are now but rarely seen near the settlements, although bruin will sometimes make a descent on the sheepfolds; yet they have generally retreated before the axe, along with the more valuable moose deer and caraboo, with which the country used to abound. the ugliest animal i ever saw was a huge porcupine, which came close to the door and carried off, one by one, a whole flock of young turkies; and the boldest, the beautiful foxes, which are also extremely destructive to the poultry; so that in walking the woods one need not be afraid, even if a bear's foot-print be indented in the soil, as perhaps he is then far enough off, and besides 'tis only in the hungry spring, after his winter's sleep, he is carniverous, preferring in summer the roots, nuts, and berries with which the forest supplies him. the living things one sees are quite harmless--the bright eyed racoon looking down upon us through the branches, or the squirrels hopping from spray to spray, a mink or an otter splashing through the pond of a deserted beaver dam, from which the ancient possessors have also retired, and a hare or sable gliding in the distance, are all the animals one usually sees, with flocks of partridges, so tame that they stir not from you, and there being no game laws, these free denizens of the wild are the property of all who choose to claim them. the forests, especially in the hard wood districts, are beautiful in their fresh unbroken solitude--not the solitude of desolation, but the young wild loveliness of the untamed earth. the trees stand close and thick, with straight pillar-like stems, unbroken by leaf or bough, which all expand to the summit, as if for breathing space. there is little brush wood, but myriads of plants and creepers, springing with the summer's breath. the beautiful dog-wood's sweeping sprays and broad leaves, the maiden-hairs glossy wreathes and pearly buds, and the soft emerald moss, clothing the old fallen trees with its velvet tapestry, and hiding their decay with its cool rich beauty, while the sun light falls in golden tracery down the birch trees silver trunk, and the sparkling water flashes in the rays, or sings on its sweet melody unseen amid the luxuriant vegetation that conceals it. through this sweet path we held on our way, talking of every bard who has said or sung the green wood's glories, whose fancied beauties were here all realized. as we neared the clearings, we met frequent groups of blue nose children gathering, with botanical skill, herbs for dyeing, or carrying sheets of birch bark, which, to be fit for its many uses, must be peeled from the trees in the full moon of june. on these children, beautiful as young greeks, with lustrous eyes and faultless features, grace said she could hardly yet look without an instinctive feeling of awe and pity, cherishing as she did the partiality of her creed and nation for infant baptism. to her there was something awful, in sight of those unhallowed creatures, whose brows bore not the first symbol of christianity. we having passed through the woods, were soon in a large assemblage of native and adopted colonists. the greater number of the native population, i think, are baptists, and their ministers are either raised among themselves, or come from the united states; or nova scotia. once in every year a general association is convened of the members of the society throughout the province, the attendance on which gives ample proof of the greatness of their numbers, as well as their fervency of feeling. this association is held in a different part of the province each season--and generally lasts a week. reports are here made of the progress of their religion, the state of funds, and of all other matters connected with the society. there is, generally, at these conventions a revival of religious feeling, and during the last days numerous converts are made and received by baptism into the church. this meeting is looked forward too by the colonists with many mingled feelings. by the grave and good it is hailed as an event of sacred importance, and by the gay and thoughtless as a season of sight-seeing and dress-displaying. those in whose neighbourhood it was last year are glad it is not be so this time; and those near the place it is to be held, are calculating the sheep and poultry, the molasses and flour it will take to supply the numerous guests they expect on the occasion--open tables being kept at taverns, and private houses are so no longer, but hospitably receive all who come. no harvest is reaped by exorbitant charges for lodging, and all that is expected in return, is the same clever treatment when their turn comes. this convocation, occurring in the leisure spell between the end of planting and the commencement of haying, is consequently no hindrance to the agricultural part of the community; and old and young "off they come" from miramichi, from acadia, and the oromocto, in shay and waggon, steam-boat and catamaran, on horseback or on foot, as best they can. this day, one towards the conclusion, the large frame building was crowded to excess, and outside were gathered groups, as may be seen in some countries around the catholic chapels. within, the long tiers of benches display as fair an array of fashion and flowers as would be seen in any similar congregation in any country. the days of going to meeting in home-spun and raw hide moccasins are vanishing fast all through the province. these are the solid constituents of every-day apparel, but for holidays, even the bush maiden from the far-off settlements of the gulph shore has a lace veil and silken shawl, and these she arranges with infinitely more taste and grace than many a damsel whose eye has never lost sight of the clearings. by far the greater portion of the assembly have the dark eyes and intellectual expression of face which declares them of american origin; and, sprinkled among them, are the features which tell of england's born. the son of scotland, too, is here, although unwont to grace such gatherings with his presence; yet this is an event of rare importance, and from its occurrence in his immediate neighbourhood, he has come, we dare not say to scoff, and yet about his expressive mouth their lingers a slight curl of something like it. and here, too, the hibernian forgets his prejudices in the delight of being in a crowd. i do not class my friend grace along with this common herd, but even she became as deeply interested as others in the discussion which was now going forward--this was the time of transacting business, and the present subject one which had occupied much attention. it was the appropriation of certain funds--whether they should be applied towards increasing their seminary, so as to fit it for the proper education of ministers for their church, or whether they should not be applied to some other purpose, and their priesthood be still allowed to spring uncultured from the mass. the different opinions expressed regarding this, finely developed the progress of mind throughout the land. some white-headed fathers of the sect, old refugees, who had left the bounds of civilization before they had received any education, yet who had been gifted in the primitive days of the colony to lead souls from sin, sternly declaimed against the education system, declaring that grace, and grace alone, was what formed the teacher. all else was of the earth earthy, and had nought to do with heavenly things. one said that when he commenced preaching he could not read the bible--he could do little more now, and yet throughout the country many a soul owned its sickness to have been healed through him. another then rose and answered him--a native of the province, and of his own persuasion, but who had drank from the springing fountains of science and of holiness--the bright gushing of whose clear streams sparkled through his discourse. i have since forgotten his language, but i know that at the time nothing i had ever heard or read entranced me as did it, glowing as it was with the new world's fervency of thought, and the old world's wealth of learning. he pleaded, as such should, for extended education, and his mighty words had power, and won the day. the old men, stern in their prejudices as their zeal, were conquered, and the baptists have now well conducted establishments of learning throughout the province. this discussion occupied the morning, and, at noon, we were invited home to dinner by a person who sat next us at the meeting, but whom we had never before seen. some twelve or fourteen others formed our party, rather a small one considering, but we were the second relay, another party having already dined and proceeded to the meeting house, where religious worship had commenced as soon as we left. our meal was not so varied in its details of cookery as the wealthier blue noses love to treat their guests with. the number to be supplied, and the quantity of provisions required, prevented this. it consisted of large joints of veal and mutton, baked and boiled, with a stately pot-pie, on its ponderous platter,--the standing dish in all these parts. soon after dinner we were given to understand the dipping was about to commence; and walked along the shore to the place appointed for the purpose, in the bright blue waters of the bay, which is here formed by an inlet of the chief river of the province, the silver-rolling st. john. the scene around us was wondrously rich and lovely--the bright green intervale meadows with their lofty trees, the cloudless sky, the flashing waters, and the balmy breeze, which bore the breath of the far-off spruce and cedars. from the assembled throng, who had now left the meeting-house, arose the hymns which form the principal part of their worship. i have said the new brunswickers are not, as yet, greatly favoured with the gift of music; this may, in a great measure, arise from deficient cultivation of the science, but at this time there was something strange and pleasant in the quick chaunting strain they raised, so different from the solemn sounds of sacred melody usual in other countries; and even grace, accustomed to the organ's pealing grandeur and lofty anthems of her own church, was pleased with it. still singing the minister entered the water, the converts one by one joining him, and singly became encircled in the shining waves: many of them were aged and bowed with time, and now took up the cross in their declining days; and others of the young and fair, who sought their creator in youth. it was wondrous now to think of this once lonely stream of the western world, the indian's own ounagandy. a few years since no voice had broke on its solitude save the red man's war-whoop, or his shrieking death song--no form been shadowed on its depths but the wild bird's wing, or the savage speeding on the blood chase. now its living pictures told the holy records of the blessed east, and its waters typed the healing stream of jordan. after some more singing and prayers offered for the newly-baptized, the ceremony was finished. 'tis strange that on these dipping occasions no cold is caught by the converts. i suppose the excitement of the mind sustains the body; but persons are often baptised in winter, in an opening made through the ice for the purpose, and walk with their garments frozen around them without inconvenience, seeming to prove the efficacy of hydropathy, by declaring how happy and comfortable they feel. we, at the conclusion of the prayers, left the place, and proceeded homewards in a canoe; this is a mode of locomotion much liked by the river settlers, but to a stranger anything but agreeable. they glide along the waters swift and smooth, but a slight cause upsets them, and as perhaps you are not exactly certain about being born to be hanged, you must sit perfectly still--you are warned to do this, but if you are the least nervous, you will hardly dare to breathe, much less move, and this, in a journey of any length, is not so pleasant. this feeling, however, custom soon dispels; and when one sees little fairy girls paddling themselves and a cargo of brothers and sisters to school, or women with babies taking their wool to the carding mill, they feel ashamed, and learn to keep the true balance. our light skiff, or bark rather, as it might be truely styled, being a veritable indian canoe, made of birch bark most cunningly put together, these being so light as to float in shallow water, and to be easily removed, are for this reason preferred by the indians to more solid materials, who carry them on their backs from stream to stream during their peregrinations through the country, soon bore us over the diamond water, whose mirrored surface we scarcely stirred, to the landing place, whose marshy precincts were now all gemmed with the golden and purple flowers of the sweet flag or calamus; and as the sun was yet high in the glorious blue, we resolved to spend the remainder of the day with a family living near; feeling, in this land of new brunswick, no qualms about a sudden visitation, knowing that a people so proverbial for being "wide awake" can never be taken unawares. their dwelling, a large frame building painted most gaily in the bright warm hues the old dutch fancies of the states love to cherish, stands in the centre of rich parks of intervale. the porch is here, as well as at the more humble log-house, answering as it does in summer for a cool verandah, and in winter as a shelter from the snows. this, the taste of the country artist has erected on pillars, not recognisable as belonging to any known order of architecture, yet here esteemed as tasty and beautiful, and, as is his custom in the afternoon, is seated the owner of the dwelling, silas mavin, one of that fast declining remnant--the refugees. he had come from the united states at the revolution, and possessed himself of this fair heritage in the days when squatting was in vogue; those palmy days which the older inhabitants love to recall, when government had not to be petitioned, as it has now, for leave to purchase land, and when, in place of the now many-worded grant, with its broad seals and official signatures, people made out their own right of possession by raising their log-house, and placing the sign manual of their axe in whatever trees they chose; when moose and caraboo were plentiful as sheep and oxen are now; when salmon filled each stream, and the wood-sheltered clearings ripened the indian corn without failing. in this land, young as it is, there are those who mourn for the times gone by, and consider the increasing settlement of the country as their worst evil; wilfully closing their eyes against improvement, they see not the wide fields, waving fair with grass and wheat, but think it was better when the dense forest shut out the breeze and reflected the sunbeams down with greater strength on the corn, so dearly loved by the american. they hear not the sound of the busy mill when they mourn for the fish-deserted brooks, and forget that when moose meat was more plentiful than now bread stuffs were ground in the wearying hand-mill. one of this respectable class of grumblers was our present acquaintance, and here he sat in his porch, with aspect grave as the stoics--his tall form, although in ruins now, was stately in decay as the old forest's pines. his head was such as a phrenologist would have loved to look upon; the true platonic breadth of brow, and lofty elevation of the scalp silvered over, told of a mind fitting in its magnitude to spring from that gigantic continent whose streams are mighty rivers and whose lakes are seas; but, valueless as these, when embosomed in their native woods, were the treasures of the old man's mind, unawakened as they were by education, and unpolished even by contact with the open world, yet still, amid the crust contracted in the life he had led, rays of the inward diamond glittered forth. the wilderness had always been his dwelling--in the land he had left, his early days had been passed in hunting the red deer or the red man on the prairie fields--there, with the true spirit of the old american, he had learned to treat the indian as "varment," although a kindlier feeling was awakened towards them in this country, where white as well as red were recipients of england's bounty, and many a tale of wild pathos or dark horror has he told of the experience of his youth with the people of the wild. in new brunswick his days had passed more peacefully. he sat this evening with his chair poised in that aerial position on one leg which none but an american can attain. ambitious emigrants, wishing to be thought cute, attempt this delicate point of yankee character, but their awkwardness falling short of the easy swing necessary for the purpose, often brings them to the ground. a beautiful english cherry tree, with its snowy wreathes in full blow, stood before him; he had raised it from the seed, and loved to look upon it. it had evidently been the object of his meditations, and served him now as a type wherewith to illustrate his remarks respecting the meeting we had attended--like those professors of religion we to-day heard, he said, was his beautiful cherry tree. it gave forth fair green leaves of promise and bright truth-seeming blossoms, but in summer, when he sought for fruit there was none; and false as it, were they of words so fair and deeds so dark, and he'd "double sooner trust one who laughed more and prayed less, than those same whining preachers." this was the old man's opinion, not only respecting the baptists, but all other sects as well. what his own ideas of religion were i never could make out. universalism i fancied it was, but differing much from the theories of those evanescent preachers who sometimes flashed like meteors through the land, leaving doubt and recklessness in their path. the first truths of christianity had been imparted to him, and these, mingling with his own innate ideas of veneration, formed his faith; as original, though more lofty in its aspirations, than the wild indian's who tells of the flowery land of souls where the good spirit dwells, and where buffalo and deer forsake not the hunting grounds of the blessed. he held no outward form or right of sanctity. the ceremony which bound him to his wife was simply legal, having been read over by the nearest magistrate. his children were unbaptised, and the green graves of his household were in his own field, although a public burying-ground was by the meeting-house of the settlement. meanwhile the old lady, who had hailed our advent with the hospitality of her country, set about preparing our entertainment. tradition says of the puritans, the pilgrims of new england, that when they first stood on plymouth rock, on their first arrival from europe, they bore the bible under one arm and a cookery book under the other. now, as to their descendants, the refugees, i am not exactly sure if, when they pilgrimised to new brunswick, they were so careful of the bible, but i am certain they retain the precepts of the cookery book, and love to embody them when they may. soon as a guest comes within ken of a blue nose, the delightful operations commence. the poorer class shifting with johnny-cake and pumpkin, while, with the better off, the airy phantoms of custard and curls, which flit through their brains, are called into tangible existence. the air is impregnated with allspice and nutmeg--apple "sarce" and cranberry "persarves" become visible, while sal-a-ratus and molasses are evidently in the ascendant. and now, while our hostess of this evening busied herself in compounding these sweet mysteries, the old man related to us the following love passage of his earlier days, which i shall give in my own language, although his original expressions rendered it infinitely more interesting. the indian bride, a refugee's story. on the margin of a bright blue western stream stood a small fort, surrounding the dwellings of some hunters who had penetrated thus far into the vast wilderness to pursue their calling. the huts they raised were rude and lowly, and yet the walls surrounding them were high and lofty. piles of arms filled their block house, and a constant guard was kept. these precautions were taken to protect them from the indians, whose ancient hunting grounds they had intruded on, and whose camp was not far distant. deadly dealings had passed between them, but the whites, strong in number and in arms, heeded little the settled malice of their foes, and after taking the usual precautions of defence, carried on their hunting, shooting an indian, or ought else that came across them, while the others, savage and unrelenting, kept on their trail in hope of vengeance. strange was it, that in an atmosphere dark as this, the light of love should beam. leemah, a beautiful indian girl, met in the forest a young white hunter. she loved, and was beloved in return. the roses of the few summers she had lived glowed warm upon her cheek, and truth flashed in the guileless light of her deep dark eyes--but leemah was already a bride, betrothed in childhood to a chieftain of her tribe; he had now summoned her to his dwelling, and her business in the forest was collecting materials for her bridal store of box and basket. her sylph-like form of arrowy grace was arrayed in his wedding gifts of costly furs, and glittering bright with bead and shell. but few were the stores that leemah gathered for her indian chief. the burning noon was passed with her white love in the leafy shade--there she brought for him summer berries, and gathered for him the water cup flower, with its cooling draught of fragrant dew. her time of marriage came, and at midnight it was to be celebrated with torch light and dance. the other hunters knew the love of silas for the gem of the wilderness, and readily offered their assistance in his project of gaining her. to them, carrying off an indian girl was an affair of light moment, and at dark of night, with their boat and loaded rifles, they proceeded up the stream towards the indian village. as they drew near, the wild chaunt of the bridal song was heard, and as all silently they approached the shore, the red torch light gleamed out upon the scene of mystic splendour. the chieftains of the tribe in stately silence stood around. the crimson beams lit up the plumes upon their brow, and showed in more awful hues the fearful lines of their painted faces, terrible at the festival as on the field of battle. the squaws, in their gayest garb, with mirrors flashing on their breasts, and beads all shining as they moved, danced round the betrothed; and there she stood, the love-lorn leemah, her black hair all unbraided, and her dark eyes piercing the far depths of night, as if looking for her lover. nor looked she long in vain, for suddenly and fearlessly silas sprung upon the shore, dashed through the circle, and bore off the indian bride to his bark. then rose the war-shout of her people, while pealed among them the rifles of the hunters. again came the war-whoop, mingled with the death shriek of the wounded. a hunter stood up and echoed them in mockery, but an arrow quivered through his brain and he was silent, while the stream grew covered with shadowy canoes, filled with dark forms shouting for revenge. on came they with lightning's speed, and on sped the hunters knowing now that their only safety was in flight. on dashed they through the waters which now began to bear them forward with wondrous haste. a thought of horror struck them: they were in the rapids, while before them the white foam of the falls flashed through the darkness. the tide had ebbed in their absence, and the river, smooth and level when full, showed all across it, at the flood, a dark abyss of fearful rocks and boiling surf. this they knew, but it was now too late to recede; the dark stream bore them onward, and now even the indians dare not follow, but landed and ran along the shore shouting with delight at their inevitable destruction. it was a moment of dread, unutterable horror to silas and his comrades. their bark whirled round in the giddy waves--then was there a wild plunge--a fearful shock--a shriek of death, and the flashing foam gathered over them, while loudly rang the voices from the shore. but suddenly, by some mighty effort, the boat was flung clear of the rocks and uninjured into the smooth current of the lower stream. a few strokes of the oar brought them to the fort, which they entered; and heard the indians howling behind them like wolves baffled of their prey. but they and the dangers they had so lately passed were alike forgotten in the night's carousal; and, when the season was ended, they returned to their homes in the settlements, enriched with the spoils they had gained in hunting, and silas with his treasured pearl of the prairie. but here, some months after they returned, and while, his heart was yet brightened with her smiles, a dark shade passed over her sunny brow, and she vanished from his home. an indian of her tribe was said to have been lingering near the village, and she no doubt had joined him and returned to her kindred. other tidings of her fate silas heard not. alas! she knew the undying vengeance of her people, and by giving herself up to them thought to shield him from their hatred. again the time of hunting came, and the same party occupied the fort in the wilderness. as yet they had been unmolested by the indians: they even knew not of their being in the neighbourhood, yet still a form of guarding was kept up, and silas and a comrade held the night-watch in the block house. the others had fallen asleep, and silas, as he sat with half-closed eyes, fancied he saw before him his lost love, leemah; he started as he thought from a dream, but 'twas real, and 'twas her own cool fingers pressed his brow--by the clear fire light he saw her cheek was deadly pale, but her eyes were flashing like sepulchral lamps, and a white-browed babe slept upon her bosom. in a deep thrilling whisper she bade him rise and follow her. wondering how she had found entrance, he obeyed, and she led him outside the walls of the fort; a murmuring sound as of leaves stirred by the wind was heard. 'tis the coming of the red eagle, said leemah, his beak is whetted for the blood draughts; here enter, and if your own life or leemah's be dear, keep still;--as she spoke she parted aside the young shoots which had sprung tip from the root of a tree, and twined like an arbour about it. her deep earnestness left no time for speculation; he entered the recess, and hardly had the flexile boughs sprung back to their places, when the fleet footsteps of the indians came nearer, and the fort was surrounded by them; the building was fired, and then their deadly yell burst forth, while the unfortunate inmates started from sleep at the sound of horror. mercy for them there was none; the relentless savage knew it not; but the shout of delight rose louder as they saw the flames dance higher o'er their victims; and silas looked on all--but leemah's eye was on his--he knew his slightest movement was death to her as well as to himself. like a demon through the flame leaped the ghastly form of the red eagle, (he to whom leemah had been espoused) and with searching glance glared on his victims, but saw not there the one he sought with deeper vengeance than the others--'twas silas he looked for; and, with the speed of a winged fiend, he bounded to where leemah stood, and accused her of having aided in his escape. she acknowledged she had, and pointed to the far-off forest as his hiding place. in an instant his glittering tomahawk cleft the hand she raised off at the wrist. silas knew no more. leemah's hot blood fell upon his brow, and he fainted through excess of agony, but like mazeppa, he lived to repay the red eagle in after-years for that night of horror--when his eyes had been blasted with the burning fort, his ears stunned with the shrieks of his murdered friends, and his brain scorched through with leemah's life blood. long years after, when he had forsaken the hunter's path, and fought as a loyalist in the british ranks, among their indian allies who smoked with them the pipe of peace and called them brothers, was one, in whose wild and withered features he recalled the stern red eagle; blood called for blood; he beguiled the indian now with copious draughts of the white man's fire-water, and he and another (brother of one of the murdered hunters) killed him, and placing him in his own canoe with the paddle in his hand, sent the fearful corpse down the rapid stream, bearing him unto his home. the wild dog and wolf howled on the banks as it floated past, and the raven and eagle hovered over it claiming it as their prey. the tribe, at the death of their sagamore, withdrew from their allies, and, following the track of the setting sun, waged war indiscriminately with all. and long after, though more than half a century had elapsed since the death of the red eagle, and when the snows of eighty winters had whitened the dark tresses of the young hunter, and bowed the tall form of the loyalist soldier; when he who had trod the flowery paths of the prairie, and slept in the orchard bowers by the blue stream of the hudson, had, for love of england's laws, become a refugee from his native land; and when here, in new brunswick, he beheld raised around him a happy and comfortable home--his house, which had always been freely opened to religious worship, and in which had been held the prayer-meetings of the baptists and love-feasts of the methodists, became one day transformed into a catholic chapel. a bishop of the romish church was passing through the province, and his presence in this sequestered spot was an event of unwonted interest; many who had forgotten the creed of their fathers returned to the faith of their earlier days, and among the most fervent of those assembled, there was a small group of milicete indians from the woods hard by. with the idolatrous devotion of their half savage nature they fell prostrate before the priest. among them was an ancient woman, but not of their tribe, who, while raising her head in prayer, or in crossing herself, silas observed she used but one hand--the other was gone. this circumstance recalled to light the faded love-dream of his youth. he questioned her and found her to be leemah, his once beautiful indian bride, who had wandered here to escape the dark tyranny of her savage kindred. she died soon after, and "she sleeps there," said the old man, pointing to where a white cross marked a low grassy mound before us, and time had not so dried up his heart springs but i saw a tear drop to her memory. * * * * * i turned my eyes from leemah's grave to see what effect the tale had made on the old lady, but she was so engaged in contemplating the golden curls of her doughnuts, and feathery lightness of her pound cake, she had heard it not; and even if she had, it had all happened such a long time ago, that her impressions respecting it must all have worn out by now. after having partaken of the luxurious feast she set before us, and hearing some more of the old man's legends, we proceeded forward. the evening, with one of those sudden changes of new brunswick, had become cold and chilly. the sun looked red and lurid through the heavy masses of fog clouds drifting through the sky; this fog, which comes all the way from the banks of newfoundland, and which is particularly disagreeable sometimes along the bay shore and in st. john, in opposition to the general clearness of the american atmosphere is but little known in the interior of the country. numerous summer fallows are burning around, and the breeze flings over us showers of blackened leaves and blossoms. as we approached home, we were accosted by one mr. isaac hanselpecker, a neighbour of ours; he was leaning over the bars, apparently wanting a lounge excessively. he had just finished milking, and had handed the pails to miss hanselpecker, as he called his wife. if there be a trait of american character peculiar to itself, displayed more fully than another by contrast with europeans, it is in the treatment of the gentler sex, differing as it does materially from the picture of the englishman, standing with his back to the fire, while the ladies freeze around him; or the glittering politeness of the frenchman, hovering like a butterfly by the music stand; it has in it more of intellect and real tenderness than either, although tending as it does to the advancement of national character, some of their own talented ones begin to complain that in the refined circles of the states they are becoming almost too civilised in this respect: the ladies requiring rather more than is due to them. yet among the working classes it has a sweet and wholesome influence, softening as it does the asperities of labour, and lightening the burthen to each. here woman's empire is within, and here she shines the household star of the poor man's hearth; not in idleness, for in america, of all countries in the world, prosperity depends on female industry. here "she looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness," and for this reason, perhaps, it is, that their husbands arise and call them blessed. now mr. hanselpecker had all the respect for his lady natural to his country, and assisted her domestic toils by milking the cows, making fires, and fetching wood and water. yet there was one material point in which he failed: she was often "scant of bread," he being one who, even in this land of toil, got along, somehow or other, with wondrous little bodily labour; professing to be a farmer, he held one of the finest pieces of land in the settlement, but his agricultural operations, for the most part, consisted in hoeing a few sickly stems of corn, while others were reaping buckwheat, or sowing a patch of flax, "'cause the old woman wanted loom gears;" shooting cranes, spearing salmon, or trapping musquash on the lake, he prefers to raising fowl or sheep, as cranes find their own provisions, and fish require no fences to keep them from the fields. his wife's skill, however, in managing the dairy department, is, when butter rates well in the market, their chief dependence; and he, when he chooses to work, which he would much rather do for another than himself, can earn enough in one day, if he take truck, to keep him three, and but that he prefers fixing cucumbers to thrashing, and making moccasins to clearing land, he might do well enough. though poor, he is none the least inclined to grovel, but, with the spirit of his land, feels quite at ease in company with any judge or general in the country. having declined his invitation to enter the log erection,--which in another country would hardly be styled a house, he having still delayed to enclose the gigantic frame, whose skeleton form was reared hard by--he gave his opinion of the weather at present, with some shrewd guesses as to what it would be in future; regarding the smoke wreaths from the fires around (there were none on his land however), he said, it reminded him of the fire in miramichi. "how long is it, old woman," said he, turning to his wife, who had now joined us, "since that ere burning?" "well," said she, "i aint exactly availed to tell you right off how many years it is since, but i guess our jake was a week old when it happened." now, as the burning of miramichi was one of the most interesting historical events in the province records, we gave him the date, which was some twenty years since; this also gave us the sum of jacob's lustres--rather few considering he had planted a tater patch on shares, and laid out to marry in the fall. "well," said he, "you may depend that was a fire--my hair curls yet when i think of it--it was the same summer we got married, and washington welford having been out a timber-hunting with me the fall afore, we discovered a most elegant growth of pine--i never see'd before nor since the equal on it--regular sixty footers, every log on 'em--the trees stood on the banks of the river, as if growing there on purpose to be handy for rafting, and we having got a first-rate supply from our merchants in town, toted our things with some of the old woman's house trumpery to the spot--we soon had up a shanty, and went to work in right airnest. there was no mistake in wash; he was as clever a fellow as ever i knowed, and as handsome a one--seven feet without his shoes--eyes like diamonds, and hair slick as silk; when he swung his axe among the timber, you may depend he looked as if he had a mind to do it--our felling and hewing went on great, and with the old woman for cook we made out grand--she, however, being rather delicate, we hired a help, a daughter of a neighbour about thirty miles off. ellen ross was as smart a gal as ever was raised in these clearings--her parents were old country folks, and she had most grand larning, and was out and out a regular first-rater. washington and her didn't feel at all small together--they took a liking to each other right away, and a prettier span was never geared. well, our jake was born, and the old woman got smart, and about house again. wash took one of our team horses, and he and ellen went off to the squire's to get yoked. it was a most beautiful morning when they started, but the weather soon began to change--there had been a most uncommon dry spell--not a drop of rain for many weeks, nor hardly a breath of air in the woods, but now there came a most fearful wind and storm, and awful black clouds gathering through the sky--the sun grew blood red, and looked most terrible through the smoke. i had heard of such things as 'clipses, but neither the almanac, nor the old woman's universal, said a word about it. altho' there was such a wind, there was the most burning heat--one could hardly breathe, and the baby lay pale and gasping--we thought it was a dying. the cattle grew oneasy, and all at once a herd of moose bounded into our chopping, and a lot of bears after them, all running as if for dear life. i got down the rifle, and was just a going to let fly at them, when a scream from the old woman made me look about. the woods were on fire all round us, and the smoke parting before us, showed the flames crackling and roaring like mad, 'till the very sky seemed on fire over our heads. i did'nt know what to do, and, in fact, there was no time to calculate about it. the blaze glared hotly on our faces, and all the wild critturs of the woods began to carry on most ridiculous, and shout and holler like all nature i caught up my axe, and the old woman the baby, and took the only open space left for us, where the stream was running, and the fire couldn't catch. just as we were going, a horse came galloping most awful fast right through the fire--it was poor washington; his clothes all burnt, and his black hair turned white as snow, and oh! the fearful burden he carried in his arms. ellen ross, the beautiful bright-eyed girl, who had left us so smilingly in the morning, lay now before us a scorched and blackened corpse--the scared horse fell dead on the ground. i hollered to washington to follow us to the water, but he heard me not; and the flames closed fast o'er him and his dead bride--poor fellow, that was the last on him--and creation might be biled down, ere you could ditto him any how. by chance our timber was lying near in the stream, and i got the old woman and the baby on a log, and stood beside them up to the neck in water, which now grew hot, and actilly began to hiss around me. the trees on the other side of the river had caught, and there was an arch of flame right above us. my stars! what a time we had of it! lucifees and minks, carraboo and all came close about us, and an indian devil got upon the log beside my wife; poor critturs, they were all as tame as possible, and half frightened to death. i thought the end of the world was come for sartain. i tried to pray, but i was got so awful hungry, that grace before meat was all i could think off. how long we had been there i couldn't tell, but it seemed tome a 'tarnity--fire, howsomever, cannot burn always--that's a fact; so at the end of what we afterwards found to be the third day, we saw the sun shine down on the still smoking woods. the old woman was weak, i tell you; and for me, i felt considerably used up--howsomever i got to the shore, and hewed out a canoe from one of our own timber sticks--there was no need of lucifers to strike a light--lots of brands were burning about. i laid some on to it and burnt it out, and soon had a capital craft, and away we went down the stream. dead bodies of animals were floating about, and there were some living ones, looking as if they had got out of their latitude, and didn't think they would find it. i reckon we weren't the only sufferers by that ere conflagration. as we came down to the settlements folks took us for ghosts, we looked so miserable like--howsomever, with good tendin, we soon came round again; but, to tell you the truth, it makes me feel kind a narvous, when i see a fallow burning ever since. tho' folks could'nt tell how that ere fire happened, and say it was a judgment on lumber men and sich like, i think it came from some settlers' improvements, who, wishing to raise lots of taters, destroyed the finest block of timber land in the province, besides the ships in miramichi harbour, folks' buildings, and many a clever feller, whose latter end was never known." "and so i suppose mr. h.," said his wife, "that is the reason you make such slim clearings." "i estimate your right," said he; and we, not expecting the spice of sentiment which flavored mr. h.'s story, left him, and reached home, where we closed the evening by putting into the following shape one of silas marvin's legends, not written with a perryian pen and azure fluid, but with a quill from the wing of a wild goose, shot by our friend hanselpecker, (who by the way was fond of such game,) as last fall it took its flight from our cold land to the sunny south, and with home-made ink prepared from a decoction of white maple bark. the lost one, a tale of the early settlers. beyond the utmost verge of the limits which the white settlers had yet dared to encroach on the red owners of the soil, stood the humble dwelling of kenneth gordon, a scotch emigrant, whom necessity had driven from the blue hills and fertile vallies of his native land, to seek a shelter in the tangled mazes of the forests of the new world. few would have had the courage to venture thus into the very power of the savage--but kenneth gordon possessed a strong arm and a hopeful heart, to give the lips he loved unborrowed bread; this nerved him against danger, and, 'spite of the warning of friends, kenneth pitched his tent twelve miles from the nearest settlement. two years passed over the family in their lonely home, and nothing had occurred to disturb their peace, when business required kenneth's presence up the river. one calm and dewy morning he prepared for his journey; marion gordon followed her husband to the wicket, and a tear, which she vainly strove to hide with a smile, trembled in her large blue eye. she wedded kenneth when she might well have won a richer bridegroom: she chose him for his worth; their lot had been a hard one--but in all the changing scenes of life their love remained unchanged; and kenneth gordon, although thirteen years a husband, was still a lover. marion strove to rally her spirits, as her husband gaily cheered her with an assurance of his return before night. "why so fearful, marion? see here is our ain bonny charlie for a guard, and what better could an auld jacobite wish for?" said kenneth, looking fondly on his wife; while their son marched past them in his highland dress and wooden claymore by his side. marion smiled as her husband playfully alluded to the difference in their religion; for kenneth was a staunch presbyterian, and his wife a roman catholic; yet that difference--for which so much blood has been shed in the world--never for an instant dimmed the lustre of their peace; and marion told her glittering beads on the same spot where her husband breathed his simple prayer. kenneth, taking advantage of the smile he had roused, waved his hand to the little group, and was soon out of sight. the hot and sultry day was passed by marion in a state of restless anxiety, but it was for kenneth alone she feared, and the hours sped heavily till she might expect his return. slowly the burning sun declined in the heavens, and poured a flood of golden radiance on the leafy trees and the bright waves of the majestic river, which rolled its graceful waters past the settlers dwelling. marion left her infant asleep in a small shed at the back of the log-house, with mary, her eldest daughter, to watch by it, and taking charlie by the hand went out to the gate to look for her husband's return. kenneth's father, an old and almost superannuated man, sat in the door-way, with twin girls of kenneth's sitting on his knees, singing their evening hymn, while he bent fondly over them. scarcely had marion reached the wicket, when a loud yell--the wild war-whoop of the savage--rang on her startled ear. a thousand dark figures seemed to start from the water's edge--the house was surrounded, and she beheld the grey hairs of the old man twined round in the hand of one, and the bright curls of her daughters gleamed in that of another; while the glittering tomahawk glared like lightning in her eyes. madly she rushed forward to shield her children; the vengeance of the indian was glutted, and the life-blood of their victims crimsoned the hearth stone! the house was soon in flames--the war dance was finished--and their canoes bounded lightly on the waters, bearing them far from the scene of their havoc. as the sun set a heavy shower of rain fell and refreshed the parched earth--the flowers sent up a grateful fragrance on the evening air--the few singing birds of the woods poured forth their notes of melody--the blue jay screamed among the crimson buds of the maple, and the humming bird gleamed through the emerald sprays of the beech tree. the pearly moon was slowly rising in the blue aether, when kenneth gordon approached his home. he was weary with his journey, but the pictured visions of his happy home, his smiling wife, and the caresses of his sunny haired children, cheered the father's heart, though his step was languid, and his brow feverish. but oh! what a sight of horror for a fond and loving heart met his eyes, as he came in sight of the spot that contained his earthly treasures--the foreboding silence had surprised him--he heard not the gleeful voices of his children, as they were wont to bound forth to meet him, he saw not marion stand at the gate to greet his return--but a thick black smoke rose heavily to the summits of the trees, and the smouldering logs of the building fell with a sullen noise to the ground. the rain had quenched the fire, and the house was not all consumed. wild with terror, kenneth rushed forward; his feet slipped on the bloody threshhold, and he fell on the mangled bodies of his father and his children. the demoniac laceration of the stiffening victims told too plainly who had been their murderers. how that night of horror passed kenneth knew not. the morning sun was shining bright--when the bereaved and broken-hearted man was roused from the stupor of despair by the sound of the word "father" in his ears; he raised his eyes, and beheld mary, his eldest daughter, on her knees beside him. for a moment kenneth fancied he had had a dreadful dream, but the awful reality was before him. he pressed mary wildly to his bosom, and a passionate flood of tears relieved his burning brain. mary had heard the yells of the savages, and the shrieks of her mother convinced her that the dreaded indians had arrived. she threw open the window, and snatching the infant from its bed, flew like a wounded deer to the woods behind the house. the frightened girl heard all, remained quiet, and knowing her father would soon return, left the little alice asleep on some dried leaves, and ventured from her hiding place. no trace of marion or of charles could be found--they had been reserved for a worse fate; and for months a vigilant search was kept up--parties of the settlers, led on by kenneth, scoured the woods night and day. many miles off a bloody battle had been fought between two hostile tribes, where a part of marion's dress and of her son's was found, but here all trace of the indians ended, and kenneth returned to his desolated home. no persuasion could induce him to leave the place where the joys of his heart had been buried: true, his remaining children yet linked him to life, but his love for them only increased his sorrow for the dead and the lost. kenneth became a prematurely old man--his dark hair faded white as the mountain snow--his brow was wrinkled, and his tall figure bent downwards to the earth. seventeen years had rolled on their returnless flight since that night of withering sorrow. kenneth gordon still lived, a sad and broken-spirited man; but time, that great tamer of the human heart, which dulls the arrows of affliction, and softens the bright tints of joy down to a sober hue, had shed its healing influence even over his wounded heart. mary gordon had been some years a wife, and her children played around kenneth's footsteps. a little marion recalled the wife of his youth; and another, charlie, the image of his lost son, slept in his bosom. there was yet another person who was as a sunbeam in the sight of kenneth; her light laugh sounded as music in his ears, and the joy-beams of her eyes fell gladly on his soul. this gladdener of sorrow was his daughter alice, now a young and lovely woman; bright and beautiful was she, lovely as a rose-bud, with a living soul-- "no fountain from its native cave, e'er tripped with foot so free; she was as happy as a wave that dances o'er the sea." alice was but five months old when her mother was taken from her, but mary, who watched over her helpless infancy with a care far beyond her years, and with love equal to a mother's, was repaid by alice with most unbounded affection; for to the love of a sister was added the veneration of a parent. one bright and balmy sabbath morning kenneth gordon and his family left their home for the house of prayer. mary and her husband walked together, and their children gambolled on the grassy path before them. kenneth leaned on the arm of his daughter alice; another person walked by her side, whose eye, when it met her's, deepened the tint on her fair cheek. it was william douglas--the chosen lover of her heart, and well worthy was he to love the gentle alice. together they proceeded to the holy altar, and the next sabbath was to be their bridal day. a change had taken place since kenneth gordon first settled on the banks of the lonely river. the white walls and graceful spire of a church now rose where the blue smoke of the solitary log-house once curled through the forest trees; and the ashes of kenneth's children and his father reposed within its sacred precincts. a large and populous village stood where the red deer roved on his trackless path. the white sails of the laden barque gleamed on the water, where erst floated the stealthy canoe of the savage; and a pious throng offered their aspirations where the war-whoop had rung on the air. alice was to spend the remaining days of her maiden life with a young friend, a few miles from her father's, and they were to return together on her bridal eve. william douglas accompanied alice on her walk to the house of her friend. they parted within a few steps of the house. william returned home, and alice, gay and gladsome as a bird, entered a piece of wood, which led directly to the house. scarcely had she entered it when she was seized by a strong arm; her mouth was gagged, and something thrown over her head; she was then borne rapidly down the bank of the river, and laid in a canoe. she heard no voices, and the swift motion of the canoe rendered her unconscious. how long the journey lasted she knew not. at length she found herself, on recovering from partial insensibility, in a rude hut, with a frightful-looking indian squaw bathing her hands, while another held a blazing torch of pine above her head. their hideous faces, frightful as the imagery of a dream, scared alice, and she fainted again. the injuries which kenneth gordon had suffered from the savages made him shudder at the name of indian--and neither he nor his family ever held converse with those who traded in the village. metea, a chief of the menomene indians, in his frequent trading expeditions to the village, had often seen alice, and became enamoured of the village beauty. he had long watched an opportunity of stealing her, and bearing her away to his tribe, where he made no doubt of winning her love. when alice recovered the squaws left her, and metea entered the hut; he commenced by telling her of the great honour in being allowed to share the hut of metea, a "brave" whose bow was always strung, whose tomahawk never missed its blow, and whose scalps were as numerous as the stars in the path-way of ghosts; and he pointed to the grisly trophies hung in the smoke of the cabin. he concluded by giving her furs and strings of beads, with which the squaws decorated her, and the next morning the trembling girl was led from the hut, and lifted into a circle formed of the warriors of the tribe. here metea stood forth and declared his deeds of bravery, and asked their consent for "the flower of the white nation" to be his bride. when he had finished, a young warrior, whose light and graceful limbs might well have been a sculptor's model, stood forward to speak. he was dressed in the richest indian costume, and his scalping knife and beaded moccasins glittered in the sunshine. his features bore an expression very different from the others. neither malice nor cunning lurked in his full dark eye, but a calm and majestic melancholy reposed on his high and smooth brow, and was diffused over his whole mein; and, in the clear tones of his voice, "brothers," said he to the warriors, "we have buried the hatchet with the white nation--it is very deep beneath the earth--shall we dig it because metea scorns the women of his tribe, because he has stolen 'the flower of the white nation?' let her be restored to her people, lest her chiefs come to claim her, and metea lives to disgrace the brave warriors of the woods?" he sat down, and the circle rising, said, "our brother speaks well, but metea is very _brave_." it was decided that alice should remain. towards evening metea entered the hut, and approaching alice, caught hold of her hand,--the wildest passion gleamed in his glittering eyes, and alice, shrieking, ran towards the door. metea caught her in his arms and pressed her to his bosom. again she shrieked, and a descending blow cleft metea's skull in sunder, and his blood fell on her neck. it was the young indian who advised her liberation in the morning who dealt metea's death-blow. taking alice in his arms, he stepped lightly from the hut. it was a still and starless night, and the sleeping indians saw them not. unloosing a canoe, he placed alice in it, and pushed softly from the shore. before the next sunset alice was in sight of her home. her father and friends knew nothing of what had transpired. they fancied her at her friend's house, and terror at her peril and joy at her return followed in the same breath. mary threw a timid, yet kind glance on the indian warrior who had saved her darling alice, and kenneth pressed the hand of him who restored his child. in a few minutes william douglas joined the happy group, and she repeated her escape on his bosom. that night kenneth gordon's prayer was longer and more fervent than usual. the father's thanks arose to the throne of grace for the safety of his child; he prayed for her deliverer, and for pardon for the hatred he had nurtured against the murderers of his children. during the prayer the indian stood apart, his arms were folded, and deep thought was marked on his brow. when it was finished, mary's children knelt and received kenneth's blessing, ere they retired to rest. the indian rushed forward, and, bursting into tears, threw himself at the old man's feet--he bent his feathered head to the earth. the stern warrior wept like a child. oh! who can trace the deep workings of the human heart? who can tell in what hidden fount the feelings have their spring? the forest chase--the bloody field--the war dance--all the pomp of savage life passed like a dream from the indian's soul; a cloud seemed to roll its shadows from his memory. that evening's prayer, and a father's blessing, recalled a time faded from his recollection, yet living in the dreams of his soul. he thought of the period when he, a happy child like those before him, had knelt and heard the same sweet words breathed o'er his bending head: he remembered having received a father's kiss, and a mother's smile gleamed like a star in his memory; but the fleeting visions of childhood were fading again into darkness, when kenneth arose, and, clasping the indian wildly to his breast, exclaimed, "my son, my son! my long lost charles!" the springs of the father's love gushed forth to meet his son, and the unseen sympathy of nature guided him to "the lost one." 'twas indeed charles gordon, whom his father held to his breast, but not as he lived in his father's fancy. he beheld him a painted savage, whose hand was yet stained with blood; but kenneth's fondest prayer was granted, and he pressed him again to his bosom, exclaiming again, "he is my son." a small gold cross hung suspended from the collar of charles. kenneth knew it well; it had belonged to marion, who hung it round her son's neck e'er her eyes were closed. she had sickened early of her captivity, and died while her son was yet a child: but the relics she had left were prized by him as something holy. from his wampum belt he took a roll of the bark of the birch tree, on which something had been written with a pencil. the writing was nearly effaced, and the signature of marion gordon was alone distinguishable. kenneth pressed the writing to his lips, and again his bruised spirit mourned for his sainted marion. mary and alice greeted their restored brother with warm affection. kenneth lived but in the sight of his son. charles rejoiced in their endearments, and all the joys of kindred were to him "new as if brought from other spheres, yet welcome as if known for years." but soon a change came o'er the young warrior; his eye grew dim, his step was heavy, and his brow was sad: he sought for solitude, and he seemed like a bird pining for freedom. they thought he sighed for the liberty of his savage life, but, alas! it was another cause. the better feelings of the human heart all lie dormant in the indian character, and are but seldom called into action. charles had been the "stern stoic of the woods" till he saw alice. then the first warm rush of young affections bounded like a torrent through his veins, and he loved his sister with a passion so strong, so overwhelming, that it sapped the current of his life. the marriage of alice had been delayed on his return--it would again have been delayed on his account, but he himself urged it forward. kenneth entered the church with charles leaning on his arm. during the ceremony he stood apart from the others. when it was finished, alice went up to him and took his hand; it was cold as marble--he was dead; his spirit fled with the bridal benediction. kenneth's heart bled afresh for his son, and as he laid his head in the earth he felt that it would not be long till he followed him. nor was he mistaken; for a few mornings after he was found dead on the grave of "_the lost one_." * * * * * and now the bright summer of new brunswick drew onward to its close. the hay, which in this country is cut in a much greener state than is usual elsewhere, and which, from this cause, retains its fragrance till the spring, was safely lodged in the capacious barns. the buck wheat had changed its delicate white flower for the brown clusters of its grain, and the reaper and the thrasher were both busied with it, for so loosely does this grain hang on its stem that it is generally thrashed out of doors as soon as ripe, as much would be lost in the conveyance to the barn. grace marley's time of departure now drew near; her government stipend had arrived. the proprietors, who paid in trade, had deposited the butter and oats equivalent to her hire in the market boat, in which she intended to proceed to town. and as this is decidedly the pleasantest method of travelling, i laid out to accompany her by the same conveyance, and we were spending the last evening with mrs. gordon, who also was to be our companion to st. john; we walked with helen through her flower-garden, who showed us some flowers, the seeds of which she had received from the old country. i saw a bright hue pass o'er the brow of grace as we walked among them, and tears gushed forth from her warm and feeling heart. next day she explained what occasioned her emotion, a feeling which all must have felt, awakened by as slight a cause, when wandering far from their native land. thus she pourtrayed what she then felt-- the mignionette. 'twas when the summer's golden eve fell dim o'er flower and fruit, a mystic spell was o'er me thrown, as i'd drank of some charmed root. it came o'er my soul as the breeze swept by, like the breath of some blessed thing; again it came, and my spirit rose as if borne on an angel's wing. it bore me away to my native land, away o'er the deep sea foam; and i stood, once more a happy child, by the hearth of my early home. and well-loved forms were by me there, that long in the grave had lain; and i heard the voices i heard of old, and they smiled on me again. and i knew once more the dazzling light, of the spirit's gladsome youth; and lived again in the sunny light of the heart's unbroken truth. yet felt i then, as we always feel, the sweet grief o'er me cast, when a chord is waked of the spirit's harp, which telleth of the past. and what could it be, that blissful trance? what caused the soul to glide? forgetting alike both time and change, so far o'er memory's tide. oh! could that deep mysterious power be but the breath of an earthly flower? 'twas not the rose with her leaves so bright, that flung o'er my soul such dazzling light, nor the tiger lily's gorgeous dies, that changed the hue of my spirit's eyes. 'twas not from the pale, but gifted leaf, that bringeth to mortal pain relief. not where the blue wreaths of the star-flower shine, nor lingered it in the airy bells of the graceful columbine. but again it cometh, i breathe it yet, 'tis the sigh of the lowly mignionette. and there, 'mid the garden's leafy gems, blossomed a group of its fairy stems; few would have thought of its faint perfume, while they gazed on the rosebud's crimson bloom. but to me it was laden with sighs and tears, and the faded hopes of by-gone years. many a vision, long buried deep, was waked again from its dreamless sleep. thoughts whose light was dim before, lived in their pristine truth once more. well might its form with my fancies weave, for in youth it seemed with me to joy, and in woe with me to grieve. oft have i knelt in the cool moonlight, where it wreathed the lattice pane, 'till i felt that he who formed the flower would hear my prayer again. then, welcome sweet thing, in this stranger land, may it smile upon thy birth, light fall the rain on thy lovely head, and genial be the earth; and blest be the power that gave to thee, all lowly as thou art, the gift unknown to prouder things, to soothe and teach the heart. next day we proceeded on our journey, and, preferring the coolness of the deck to the heated atmosphere of the cabin, seated ourselves there to enjoy the quiet beauty of the night. the full glory of a september's moon was beaming bright in the clear rich blue of heaven; the stars were glittering in the water's depths, and ever and anon the fire flies flashed like diamonds through the dark foliage on the shore--the light fair breeze scarce stirred the ripples on the stream--when, from one of the white dwellings on the beach in whose casement a light was yet burning, came a low, sad strain of sorrow. i had heard that sound once before, and knew now it was the wail of irish grief. strange that mournful dirge of erin sounded in that distant land. grace knew the language of her country, and ere the "keen" had died upon the breeze, she translated thus the song of the irish mourner. light of the widow's heart! art thou then dead? and is then thy spirit from earth ever fled? and shall we, then, see thee and hear thee no more, all radiant in beauty and life as before? my own blue-eyed darling, oh, why didst thou die, ere the tear-drop of sorrow had dimmed thy bright eye, ere thy cheek's blooming hue felt one touch of decay, or thy long golden ringlets were mingled with grey? why, star of our path-way, why didst thou depart? why leave us to weep for the pulse of the heart? oh, darkened for ever is life's sunny hour, when robbed of its brightest and loveliest flower! around thy low bier sacred incense is flinging, and soft on the air are the silver bells ringing; for the peace of thy soul is the holy mass said, and on thy fair forehead the blessed cross laid. soft, soft be thy slumbers, our lady receive thee, and shining in glory for ever thy soul be; to the climes of the blessed, my own grama-chree, may blessings attend thee, sweet cushla ma-chree. as we passed the jemseg, we spoke of the time when madame la tour so bravely defended the fort in the absence of her husband--this occurred in the early times of the province, and strange stories are told of spirit forms which glide along the beach, beneath whose sands the white bones of the french and indians, who fell in the deadly fight, lie buried. talking of these things, induced mrs. gordon to tell us the following tale, which she had heard, and which i have entitled a winter's evening sketch, written in new brunswick. "oh! there's a dream of early youth, and it never comes again; 'tis a vision of joy, and light, and truth, that flits across the brain; and love is the theme of that early dream, so wild, so warm, so new. and oft i ween, in our after-years, that early dream we rue."---mrs. hemans. the winter's eve had gathered o'er new brunswick, and the snow was falling, as in that clime it only knows how to fall. the atmosphere was like the face of sterne's monk, "calm, cold, and penetrating," and the faint tinkling of the sleigh bells came mournfully on the ear as a knell of sadness--so utterly cheerless was the scene. another hour passed, and our journey was ended. the open door of the hospitable dwelling was ready to receive us, and in the light and heat of a happy home, toil and trouble were alike forgotten. there is always something picturesque in the interior of a new brunswick farm house, and this evening everything assumed an aspect of interest and beauty. it might have been the comfortable contrast to the scene without that threw its mellow tints around. even the homely loom and spinning-wheel lost their uncouthness, and recalled to the mind's imagery the classic dreams of old romance--hercules in the chambers of omphale the story of arachne and penelope, the faithful wife of brave ulysses; but there was other food for the spirit which required not the aid of fancy to render palatable. on the large centre table, round which were grouped the household band, with smiling brows and happy hearts, lay the magazines and papers of the day, with their sweet tales and poetic gems. the "amulet" and "keepsake" glittering in silk and gold, and "chambers," with plain, unwinning exterior, the ungarnished casket of a mine of treasure, gave forth, like whisperings from a better land, their gentle influence to soothe and cheer the heart, and teach the spirit higher aspirations, while breathing the magic spells raised by their fairy power--those sweet creators of a world unswayed by earth, where hope and beauty live undimmed by time or tears--givers to all who own their power, a solace 'mid the pining cares of life. thus, with the aid of these, and the joys of converse, sped the night; and as the wind which had now arisen blew heavy gusts of frozen rain against the windows, we rejoiced in our situation all the more, and looked complacently on the great mainspring of our comfort, the glowing stove, which imparted its grateful caloric through the apartment, and bore on its polished surface shining evidence of the housewife's care. 'twas apparently already a favourite, and the storm without had enhanced its value. without dissent, all agreed in its perfection and superiority over ordinary fire-places. twas a theme which called forth conversation, and when all had given their opinion, uncle ethel was asked for his. the person so addressed was an aged man, who reclined in an arm chair apart from the others, sharing not in words with their discourse or mirth, but smiling like a benignant spirit on them. more than eighty years of shade and sunshine had passed o'er him. the few snowy locks which lingered yet around his brow were soft and silky as a child's--time and sorrow had traced him but a gentle path, 'twould seem by the light which yet beamed in his calm blue eye and placid smile, the expression was far different from mirthful happiness, but breathed of holy peace and spirit pure, tempered with love and kindness for all--living in the past dreams of youth, he loved the present, when it recalled their sweet memories in brighter beauty from the tomb of faded years, and then it seemed as if a secret woe arose and dimmed the vision when it glowed brightest. a deeper sorrow than for departed youth flashed o'er his brow, brief but fearful, as though he once, and but once only, had felt a pang of agony which had deadened all other lighter woes, and, overcome by resignation, left the spirit calmer as its strong feeling passed away. such was what we knew of uncle ethel, but ere the night had worn we knew him better. joining us in our conversation regarding the stove, he smiled, and said he agreed not with us--our favourite was more sightly, and more useful, but it bore not the friendly face of the old hearthstone--one of memory's most treasured spots was gone--the _fireside_ of our home--the thought of whose hallowed precincts cheers the wanderer's heart, and has won many from the path of error, to seek again its sinless welcome. 'tis while sitting by the fireside at eve, said he, that the vanished forms of other days gather round me--there where our happiest meetings were in the holy sanctity of our _home_. where peace and love hovered o'er us, i see again kind faces lit by the ruddy gleam, and hear again the evening hymn, as of old it used to rise from the loving band assembled there. alas! long years have passed since i missed them from the earth, but there they meet me still--in the glowing fire's bright light i trace their sweet names, and the vague fancies of childhood are waked again from their dim repose to live in light and truth once more, amid the fantastic visions and shadowy forms, flitting through the red world of embers, on which i loved to gaze when thought and hope were young. i love it even now--the sorrow that is written there makes it more holy to my mind, telling me, as it does, of a clime where grief comes not, and where the blighted hope and broken heart will be at rest. but why, said the old man, do i talk so long--i weary you, my children, for the fancies of age are not those of youth--hope's fairy flowers are bright for you--the faded things of memory are mine alone--with them i live, but rejoice ye in your happiness, and gather now, in the spring time of your days, treasures to cheer you in the fall of life. as to your favourite, the stove, although i love it not so well as the old familiar fire-place, i can admire and value it as part of the spirit of improvement which is spreading o'er our land--her early troubles are passing away, and she is rising fast to take her place among the nations of the earth--bitter has been her struggle for existence, but the clouds are fading in the brightness of her coming years, and her past woes will be forgotten. he ceased, but we all loved to hear him talk, he was so kind and good, and he was earnestly requested for one of those tales of the early times of our own land, which had often thrilled us with their simple, yet often woeful interest. i am become an egotist to-night, for self is the only theme of which i can discourse. my spirit, too, is like the minstrel harp of which you have to-night been reading, 'twill "echo nought but sadness;" but if it please you, you shall have uncle ethel's love story--well may we say alas! for time, "for he taketh away the heart of youth, and its gladness which hath been like the summer's sunshine on our path, making the desert green." more than sixty years have elapsed since the time of which i now shall speak. we lived then, a large and happy family, in the dwelling where our fathers' sires had died--sons and daughters had married, but still remained beneath the shadow of the parent roof tree, which seemed to extend its wings like a guardian spirit, as they increased in number. 'twas near the city of new york, and stood in the centre of sunny fields, which had been won from the forest shade. our parents were natives of the soil, but theirs had come from the far land of germany, and the memories of that land were still fondly cherished by their descendants. the low-roofed cottage, with its many-pointed gables and narrow casement, was gay with the bright flowers of that home of their hearts--cherished and guarded there with the tenderest care--all hues of earth seemed blended in the bright parterre of tulips, over which the magnificent dahlia towered, tall and stately as a queen--the rich scent of the wallflower breathed around, and the jessamine went climbing freely o'er the trellissed porch and arching eaves--each flower around my home bore to me the face of a friend--they bore to me the poetry of the earth, as the stars tell the sweet harmonies of heaven--but there is a vision of fairer beauty than either star or flower comes with the thought of these bye-gone days--the face of my orphan cousin ella werner arises in the brightness of its young beauty, as it used to beam upon me from the latticed window of my home: for her's, indeed, "was a form of life and light, that seen became a part of sight, and comes where'er i turn mine eye, the morning star of memory." ella's mother was sister to my father: she lived but long enough to look upon her child, and her husband died of a broken heart soon after her. thus the very existence of the fair girl was fatal to those who best loved her--not best, for all living loved her. in after-years it seemed as though it was her beauty, that fatal gift, which ne'er for good was given to many, caused her woe. ella's spirit was pure and bright as the eyes through which it beamed--the gladness of her young heart's happiness rung in the silvery music of her voice, and in the fairy magic of her smile she looked as if sorrow could never dim the golden lustre of her curls, or trace a cloud on her snowy brow--gentle and lovely she was, and that was all. there was no depth of thought, no strength of mind, to form the character of one so gifted. her faculties for reasoning were the impulses of her own heart: these were generally good, and constituted her principle of action--but changeful as the summer sky are the feelings of the human heart, unswayed by the deeper power of the head. such were ella's, and their power destroyed her. alas! how calmly can i talk now of her faults; but who could think of them when they looked upon her, and loved her as i did--'tis only since she is gone i discover them. of the other members of the family i need not speak, as you already know of them; but there is one whose name you have never heard, for crime and sorrow rest with it, and oblivion shrouds his memory. conrad ernstein was also my cousin, and an orphan--he was an inmate of our dwelling, and my mother was to him as a parent. he was some years older, but his delicate constitution and studious mind withdrew him from the others, and made him the companion of ella and myself. i have said that ella's mind was too volatile, so in like degree was conrad's, in its deep unchanging firmness and immutability of purpose. nothing deterred him from the pursuit of any object he engaged in--obstacles but increased his energy to overcome and call forth stronger powers of mind--this was observable in his learning. science the most abstruse and difficult was his favourite study, and in these he attained an excellence rarely arrived at by one so situated. wondered at and admired by all, his pride which was great was amply gratified, and what was evil in his nature was not yet called into being--his disposition was melancholy, and showed none of the joyousness of youth--yet that very sadness seemed to make us love him all the more--his air of suffering asked for pity--'twas strange to see the glad-hearted ella leave my mother's side, while she sang to us the songs of the blue rhine, and bend her sunny brow with him over the ancient page of some clasped volume, containing the terrific legends of the "black forest," till the tales of the wild huntsmen filled her with dread--then again would she spring to my mother, and burying her head in her bosom, ask her once more to sing the songs of her native land, for so we still called germany; and, as you see, the romances and legends of that country formed our childhood's lore, my early love for ella grew and increased with my years, and i fancied that she loved me. on the first of may, or, as it was by us styled, "walburga's eve," the young german maidens have a custom of seeking a lonely stream, and flinging on its waters a wreath of early flowers, as an offering to a spirit which then has power. when, as the legend tells, the face of their lover will glide along the water, and the name be borne on the breeze, if the gift be pleasing to the spirit. ella, i knew, had for some time been preparing to keep this ancient relic of the pagan rites--she had a treasured rose tree which bloomed, unexpectedly, early in the season--these delicate things she fancied would be a fitting offering to the spirit. she paused not to think of what she was about to do--the thing itself was but a harmless folly--from aught of ill her nature would have drawn instinctively; but evil there might have been--she stayed not to weigh the result--at the last hour of sunset she wreathed her roses, and set out. in the lightness of my heart i followed in the same path, intending to surprize her. i heard her clear voice floating on the air, as she sung the invocation to the spirit--the words were these:-- blue-eyed spirit of balmy spring, bright young flowers to thee i bring, wreaths all tinged with hues divine, meet to rest on thy fairy shrine. with these i invoke thy gentle care, queen of the earth and ambient air, come with the light of thy radiant skies, trace on the stream my true love's eyes, show me the face in the silvery deep, whose image for aye my heart may keep; bid the waters echoing shell, whisper the name thy breezes tell. and still on the feast of walburga's eve, bright young flowers to thee i'll give; beautiful spirit i've spoken the spell, and offered the gift thou lovest well." the last notes died suddenly away, and ella, greatly agitated, threw herself into my arms. i enquired the cause of her terror, and forgetting her secrecy, she said a face had appeared to her on the stream. just then we saw conrad, who had followed on the same purpose i had, but had fallen and hurt his ancle, and was unable to proceed. he joined not with me when i laughed at ella's fright, but a deeper paleness overspread his countenance. raising his eyes to the heavens, they rested on a star beaming brightly in the blue--its mild radiance seemed to soothe him. see ye yonder, said he, how clear and unclouded the lustre of that shining orb--these words seemed irrelevant, but i knew their meaning. his knowledge of german literature had led him into the mazes of its mingled philosophy and wild romance. astronomy and astrology were to him the same; the star to which he pointed was what he called the planet of his fate, and its brightness or obscurity were shadowed in his mind--its aspect caused him either joy or woe. the incident of ella's fright agitated him much, for the occurrences of this real world were to him all tinged with the supernatural; but he looked again at the heavens, and the mild lustre of the star was reflected in his eyes; he leaned upon my arm, and we passed onward. i knew not then that his dark spirit felt the sunbeams which illumined mine own. that same balmy evening i stood with ella by the silver stream which traced its shining path around our home, watching the clear moonbeams as they flashed in the fairy foambells sparkling at our feet. there i first told my love--her hand was clasped in mine--she heard me, and raising her dewy eyes, said, "dearest ethel, i love you well; but not as she who weds must love you--be still to me my own dear friend and brother, and ella will love you as she ever has. ask not for more." she left me, and i saw a tear-drop gem the silken braid on her cheek, and thus my dream of beauty burst. my spirit's light grew dark as the treasured spell which bound me broke. some hours passed in agony, such as none could feel but those who loved as i did--so deep, so fondly. as i approached my home the warm evening light was streaming from the windows, and i heard her rich voice thrilling its wild melody. every brow smiled upon her: even conrad's was unbent. i looked upon her, and prayed she might never know a grief like mine. the ringing music of her laugh greeted my entrance, and ere the night had passed she charmed away my woe. while these things occurred with us, the aspect of the times without had changed. america made war with england. what were her injuries we asked not, but 'twas not likely that we, come of a race who loved so well their "fatherland and king," would join with those who had risen against theirs. as yet the crisis was not come, and in new york british power was still triumphant. among the many festivities given by the officers, naval and military, then in the country, was a splendid ball on board a british frigate then in the harbour. to this scene of magic beauty and delight i accompanied ella--'twas but a few days after that unhappy first of may; but the buoyant spirits of youth are soon rekindled, and ella yet, i thought, might love me. the scene was so new, and withal so splendid in its details, that it comes before me now fresh and undimmed. the night was one of summer's softest, earliest beauty: the moonlight slept upon the still waters, and the tall masts, with all their graceful tracery of spar and line, were bathed with rich radiance, mingled with the hundred lights of coloured lamps, suspended from festoons of flowers; low couches stood along the bulwarks of the noble ship, and the meteor flag of england, which waved so oft amid the battle and the breeze, now wafted its ruby cross o'er fair forms gliding through the dance, to the rich strains of merry music--'twas an hour that sent glad feeling to the heart. the gay dresses and noble bearing of the military officers, all glistening in scarlet and gold, contrasted well with the white robes and delicate beauty of the fair girls by their sides. but they had their rivals in the gallant givers of the fete. many a lady's heart was lost that night. "what is it always makes a sailor so dangerous a rival?" ella used to say, when rallied on her partiality for a "bluejacket," that she loved it because it was the colour of so many things dear to her: the sky was blue, the waves of the deep mysterious sea were blue, and the wreaths of that fairy flower, which bears the magic name forget-me-not, were of the same charmed hue. some such reason, i suppose, it is that makes every maiden love a sailor. while we stood gazing on the scene, enchanted and delighted, one came near and joined our group. nobility of mind and birth was written on his brow in beauty's brightest traits. he seemed hardly nineteen, but, young as he was, many a wild breeze had parted the wavy ringlets of his hair, and the salt spray of the ocean raised a deeper hue on his cheek. his light and graceful figure was clad in the becoming costume of his rank, and on his richly braided bosom rested three half blown roses. ella's eyes for an instant met his, they fell upon the flowers, and she dropped fainting from my arm. the mystery was soon explained. de clairville, such was the stranger's name, had been walking on the cliffs when ella sought the stream--he heard her voice and approached to see from whence it came--his was the face she had seen upon the waters; he heard her scream, and descended to apologise, but she was gone, and he had found and worn her rose buds-- "oh! there are looks and tones that dart an instant sunshine through the heart, as if the soul that instant caught some treasure it through life had sought; as if the very lips and eyes, predestined to have all our sighs, and never be forgot again, sparkled and spoke before us then." so sings the poet, and so seemed it with ella and de clairville; and when the rosy morn, tinging the eastern sky, announced to the revellers the hour of parting, that night of happiness was deemed too short. to hasten on my story, i must merely say that they became fondly attached, and when de clairville departed for another station, he left ella as his betrothed bride. on love such as theirs 'twould seem to all that heaven smiled; but inscrutable to human eyes are the ways of providence, for deadly was the blight thrown o'er them. meanwhile the events in which the country was engaged drew to a close. england acknowledged the independence of america, and withdrew her forces; but while she did so, offered a home and protection to those who yet wished to claim it. we were among the first to embrace the proposal: and though with sadness we left our sunny home with all its fond remembrances, yet integrity of mind was dearer still. we might not stay in the land with whose institutions we concurred not. conrad, with his learning and talents, 'twas thought, might remain to seek the path of fame already opening to him; but what to him were the dreams of ambition, compared to the all-engrossing thought which now bound each faculty of his mind beneath its power. ella, my mother also wished to stay, nor attempt with us the perils of our new life; for here her betrothed, when he returned, expected to meet her; but she flung her arms around my mother, saying in the language of ruth, "thy home, dearest, shall be mine," and there shall de clairville join us. suffice it, then, to say, that after bidding farewell to scenes we loved, our wearisome voyage was ended, and we landed on these sterile and dreary shores. we dared not venture from the coast, and our abode was chosen in what appeared to us the best of this bleak and barren soil. 'twas a sad change, but those were the days of strong hearts and trusting hopes. our settlement was formed of six or eight different households, all connected, and all from the neighbourhood of the beautiful bowery. each knew what the other had left, and tried to cheer each other with brighter hopes than they hardly dared to feel; but sympathy and kindness were among us. why need i tell you of our blighted crops and scanty harvests, and all the toil and trouble which we then endured. i must go on with what i commenced--the story of my own love. shall i say that when ella accompanied us i hoped de clairville might never join us. 'tis true, but what were my feelings to discover the love of conrad for the gem of my heart, and that he cherished it with all the deep strength of his nature. i saw ella's manner was not such as became a betrothed maiden, but she feared conrad, and trembled beneath the dark glance of his eye. a feeling more of fear and pity than of love was her's; but i was fearful for the result, for i knew he was one not to be trifled with. the last dreary days of the autumn were gathered round us--the earth was already bound in her frozen sleep, and all nature stilled in her silent trance--all, save the restless waves, dashing on the rocky shore; or the wind, which first curled their crests, and then went sweeping through the wiry foliage of the pines--when, at the close of the short twilight, we were all gathered on the highest point which overlooked the sea, earnestly gazing o'er the dim horizon, where night was coming fast. ere the sun had set a barque had been seen, and her appearance caused unwonted excitement in our solitudes. ships in those days were strange but welcome visitants. not merely the necessaries of life, but kind letters and tidings from distant friends were borne by them. as the darkness increased, signal fires were raised along the beach, and ere long a gun came booming o'er the waters; soon after came the noble ship herself; her white sails gleaming through the night, and the glittering spray flashing in diamond sparkles from her prow. she came to, some distance from the shore, and, as if by magic, every sail was furled. a boat came glancing from her side; a few minutes sent it to the beach, and a gallant form sprung out upon the strand. it was de clairville come to claim his affianced bride; and with a blushing cheek and tearful eye ella was once more folded to his faithful heart. a pang of jealous feeling for an instant darted through me, but conrad's face met mine, and its dark expression drove the demon power from me. i saw the withering scowl of hate he cast upon de clairville, and i inwardly determined to shield the noble youth from the malice of that dark one; for, bright as was to me the hope of ella's love, i loved her too well to be ought but rejoiced in her happiness. although it brought sorrow to myself, yet she was blessed. mirth and joy, now for a while cheered our lonely homes; we knew we were to lose our flower; but love like theirs is a gladsome thing to look at. many were the gifts de clairville brought his bride from the rich shore of england. bracelets, radiant as her own bright eyes, and pearls as pure as the neck they twined. among other things was a fairy case of gold, in the form of a locket, which he himself wore. ella wished to see what it contained, and laughingly he unclosed it before us: 'twas the faded rose leaves of her offerings to the love spirit on walburga's eve. they had rested on his heart, he said, in the hours of absence; and there, in death, should they be still. ella blushed and hid her face upon his bosom. i sighed at the memory of that day, but conrad's gloomy frown recalled me to the present--this was their bridal eve. our pastor was with us, and the lowly building where we worshipped was decorated with simple state for the occasion. it stood on an eminence some distance from the other houses. that night i was awakened from sleep by a sudden light shining through the room--a wild dream' was yet before me, and a death snriek seemed ringing in my ears. i looked from the window; our little church was all in flames; 'twas built of rough logs, and was of little value, save that it was hallowed by its use. a fire had-probably been left on to prepare it for the morrow, and from this the mischief had arisen. i thought little about it, and none knew of its destruction till the morn. the sun rose round and red, and sparkled o'er the glittering sheen of the frost king's gems, flung in wild symmetry o'er the earth, till all that before looked dark and drear was wreathed with a veil of dazzling beauty; even the blackened logs where the fire had been had their delicate tracery of pearly fringe. the guests assembled in our dwelling, and the pastor stood before the humble altar, raised for the occasion. the walls were rude, but the bride in her young beauty might have graced a palace. she leaned on conrad's arm, according to our custom, as her oldest unmarried relative. the tables were spread with the bridal cheer, and the blazing fire crackled merrily on the wide hearth-stone. the bridegroom's presence alone was waited for. gaily hung with flags was the ship, and cheers rung loudly from her crew as a boat left her side. it came, but bore but the officers invited to the wedding. where was de clairville? none knew! we had expected he passed the night on board; but there he had not been. 'twas most strange! the day passed away, and others like it, and still he came not. he was gone for ever. had he proved false and forsaken his love? such was the imputation thrown on his absence by conrad. the sailors joined us; a band of indian hunters led the way, and for miles around the woods were searched, but trace of human footsteps, save our own, we saw not. long did the vessel's crew linger by the shore, hoping each day for tidings of their loved commander's fate, but of him they heard no more, and it was deemed he had met his death by drowning. conrad, whose morose manner suddenly disappeared for a bold and forward tone, so utterly at variance from his usual that all were surprized, still persisted in asserting that he had but proceeded along the coast, and would join his vessel as she passed onward. one of the sailors, an old and grey-haired man, who loved de clairville as a son, indignantly denied the charge. he was incapable of such an action. "god grant," said he, "he may have been fairly dealt with." "you would not say he had been murdered," said conrad. "no," said the old man, "i thought not of that: if he were, not a leaflet in your woods but would bear witness to the crime." we were standing then by the ruined church--a slender beech tree grew beside it--one faded leaf yet hovered on its stem--for an instant it trembled in the blast, then fell at conrad's feet, brushing his cheek as it passed. if the blow of a giant had struck him he could not have fallen more heavily to the ground. an inward loathing, such as may mortal man never feel to his fellow, forbade me to assist him. he had fainted; but the cold air soon revived him, and he arose, complaining of sudden illness. the sailors left us, and the ship sailed slowly from our waters, with her colours floating sadly half-mast high. ella thus suddenly bereaved, mourned in wild and bitter grief, but woman's pride, at times her guardian angel, at others her destroyer, took up its stronghold in her heart. the tempter conrad awoke its tones--with specious wile he recalled de clairville's lofty ideas of name and birth--how proudly he spoke of his lady mother and the castled state of his father's hall. was it not likely that, at the last, this pride had rallied its strength around him, and bade him seek a nobler bride than the lowly maiden of the "refugees?" too readily she heard him, for love the fondest is nearest allied to hate the deepest, and de clairville's name became a thing for scorn and hate. 'twas vain for me to speak--what could i say? a species of fascination seemed to be obtained by conrad o'er her--a witching spell was in his words--'twas but the power, swayed by his strong and ill-formed mind, over her weak but gentle one--which, if rightly guided, would have echoed such sweet music--and, ere the summer passed, she had forgotten her lost lover, and was to wed him. to others there was nothing strange in this, but to me it brought a wild and dreary feeling; not that my early dreams were unchanged, for i had learned to think a love like her's, so lightly lost and won, was not the thing to be prized. alas! i knew not the blackness of the spirit that beguiled her, and wrought such woe. still she had done wrong--the affections of man's heart may not be idly dealt with--the woman who feigns what she feels not, has her hand on the lion's mane. ella at one time had done this, and she reaped a dark guerdon for her falsehood. yet in her it might have been excused, for the very weakness of her nature led her to it. let those who are more strongly gifted beware of her fate. the earth was in the richest flush of her green beauty. on the morn, ella was again to be a bride--the golden light streamed through the glad blue sky, and all looked bright and fair--the remains of the church, which had long looked black and dreary, were gay with the richness of vegetation--the bracken waved its green plumes, and the tall mullen plant, with its broad white leaves, raised its pale crest above the charred walls. while the dew was shining bright i had gone forth--surprise and consternation greeted my solitary approach when i returned. again the holy book had been opened--the priest stood ready with the bride, and tarried for the lover--they thought he was with me, but i had not seen him--daylight passed away, night came, but brought him not--the moon arose, and her shadowy light gave to familiar things of day the spectral forms of mystery. while we sat in silence, thinking of conrad's absence, a dog's mournful whine sounded near--it grew louder, and attracted our attention. we followed the sound--it came from the ruins of the church, and there, among the weeds and flowers lay conrad stiff and cold--he was dead, and, oh the horrible expression of that face, the demoniac look of despair was never written in such fearful lines on human face before. all felt relief when 'twas covered from the sight. one hand had 'twined in the death grasp round the reed-like stem of the mullen plant--we unclosed it, and it sprung back, tall and straight as before; something glittered in the other--'twas the half of de clairville's golden locket--how it came to be in his possession was strange, but we thought not of it then. events like these have a saddening influence on the mind, and the gloom for conrad's sudden death hung heavy o'er us--ella's mourning was long and deep. i was not grieved to see it, for sorrow makes the spirit wiser. three years passed away--little change had been among us, save that some of our aged were gone, and the young had risen around us. once more it was the first of may--the night was dark and still, but the silvery sounds of the waging earth came like balm o'er the soul--there was a murmur in the forest, as though one heard the song of the young leaves bursting into life, and the glad gushing of the springing streams rose with them. the memory of other days was floating o'er my mind, when a soft voice broke on my reverie. her thoughts had been with mine--"ethel," said she, "remember you, how on such a night as this, you once sought my love. alas! how little knew i then of my own heart--your's it should then have been--you know the shades that have passed over it. is ella's love a worthless gift, or will you accept it now as freely as 'tis offered. how long and sternly must we be trained e'er love's young dream can be forgotten." the events that intervened all passed away, and ella was again the same maiden that stood with me so long ago by the streamlet's side on walburga's eve. my heart's long silenced music once more rung forth its melody at her sweet words, and life again was bright with the gems of hope and fond affection. in places so lone as that in which we lived, the fancies of superstition have ample scope to range. it had long been whispered through the settlement that the spirit of conrad appeared on the spot where he had died at certain times. when the moon beamed, a shadowy form was seen to wave its pale arms among the ruins of the church, which yet remained unchanged. so strongly was the story believed, that after night-fall none dared to pass the spot alone. ella, too, had heard it, and trembled whilst she disbelieved its truth. our marriage morning came, and ella was for the third time arrayed in her bridal dress. a wreath of pearl gleamed through her hair, and lace and satin robed her peerless form--the tinge upon her cheek might not have been so bright as once it was, but to me she was lovely--more of mind was blended with the feelings of the heart, and gave a higher tone to her beauty. the holy words were said, and my fondest hopes made truth. is it, that because in our most blissful hours the spirits are most ready fall, or was it the sense of coming ill that threw its dreary shade of sadness o'er me all that day? the glorious sun sunk brightly to his rest, but the rose cloud round his path seemed deepened to the hue of blood. a wailing sound came o'er the waters, and a whispering, as of woe, sighed through the leafy trees. this feeling of despondency i tried in vain to banish; as the evening came, it grew deeper, but ella was more joyous than ever, for a long time, she had been. all the fairy wiles of her winning youth seemed bright as of old--glad faces were around us, and she was the gayest of them all; when, suddenly, something from the open door met her eyes--one loud shriek broke from her, and she rushed wildly from among us. i saw her speed madly up the hill, where stood the church. i was hastening after, when strong arms held me back, and fingers, trembling with awe and dread, pointed to the object of their terror--there among the ruins stood a tall and ghost-like form, whose spectral head seemed to move with a threatening motion--for an instant i was paralysed, but ella's white robes flashed before me, and i broke from their grasp. again i heard her shriek--she vanished from me, but the phantom form still stood. i reached it, and that thing of fear was but a gigantic weed--a tall mullen that had outgrown the others on the very spot where we had found the body of conrad; the waving of its flexile head and long pale leaves, shining with moonlight, were the motions we had seen--but where was ella? the decaying logs gave way beneath her, and she had fallen into a vault or cellar beneath the building. meanwhile those at the house recovered their courage, and came towards us, bearing lights. we entered the vault, and, on her knees before a figure, was ella--the form and dress were de clairville's, such as we had seen him in last, but the face, oh! heaven, the face showed but the white bones of a skeleton. the rich brown curls still clung to the fleshless skull, and on the finger glittered the ring with which ella was to have been wed. the half of the golden locket was clasped to his breast--the ribbon by which it hung seemed to have been torn rudely from its place, but the hand had kept its hold till the motion caused by our descent--it fell at ella's feet, a sad memento of other days, and recalled her to sensation. horror paled the brows of all, but to me was given a deeper woe, to think and know what ella must have felt. every feeling was deepened to intensity of agony in the passing of that night--that dreary closing of my bridal day. how came the morning's light i know not, but when it did, the fresh breeze blew on my brow, and i saw the remains of de clairville lying on the grass before me--they had borne him from below, and it showed more plainly the crime which had been among us. the deep blue of the dress was changed to a darker hue where the red life blood had flowed, and from the back was drawn the treacherous implement of death. the hearts of all readily whispered the murderer's name, and fuller proof was given in that ancient dagger that had long been an heir-loom in the family of conrad--a relic of the old teutonic race from whence they sprung--well was it known, and we had often wondered at its disappearance. he, conrad, was the murderer--he had slain de clairville, and fired the building to conceal his crime. god was the avenger of the dark deed--the mighty hand of conscience struck him in his proudest hour--the humblest things of earth, brought deathly terror to his soul. 'twas evident the appearance of the mullen plant, which drew us to the spot, had been the cause of his death. the words of the old sailor seemed true. the lowly herb had brought the crime to light, and in the hand of heaven had punished the murderer. we buried de clairville beneath a mossy mound, where the lofty pine and spicy cedar waved above, and hallowed words were said o'er his rest. a blight seemed to hover o'er our lonely settlement by the deed which had been done within it. nothing bound us to the spot; but hues of sadness rested with it, and ever would. 'twas an unhallowed spot, and we prepared to leave it, and seek another resting place. our boats lay ready by the beach, and some were already embarked. i took a last look around--something white gleamed among the trees around de clairville's grave--'twas ella, who lay there dead. she always accused herself as the cause of de clairville's death, and indirectly, too, she had been--but restitution now was made. we laid her by his side, and thus i lost my early, only love. here then was it where we chose our heritage, and here we have since remained, but everything is changed since then. many an aged brow has passed from earth, and many a bright eye closed in death. every trace of old is passing away, save where their shadows glide in the memory. even the grave where ella slept is gone from earth. twenty years after her death i made a pilgrimage to the place--the young sapling pines which shaded it had grown to lofty trees--human voice seemed never to have broken in tones of joy or woe the deep solitude around--the long grass waved rank and dark above the walls we had raised, and the red berries hung rich and ripe by the ruined hearthstone. again, when another twenty years passed, i came to it once more--the weight of age had gathered o'er me, but there lay the buried sunlight of my youth, and the spirit thoughts of other days drew me to it. again there was a change--a change which told me my own time drew near. the woods were gone long since--the reaper had passed o'er the lowly graves, and knew them not. the last record of my love and of my woe, was gone. dwellings were raised along the lonely beach, and laden ships floated on the long silent waters. i bade the place farewell for ever, and returned to await in peace and hope my summons to the promised rest. the old man paused--the dreams of the past had weakened him, and he retired for the night. next morn we waited long for his presence, but he came not. we sought his chamber, and found him dead. the soul had passed away--one hand was folded on his heart, and oh! the might of earthly love. it clasped a shining braid of silken hair, and something, of which their faint perfume told to be the faded rose leaves--frail memorials of his fondly loved ella, but lasting after the warm heart which cherished them was cold. he was gone where, if it be not in heaven "a crime to love too well," his spirit may yet meet with her's, in that holy light, whose purity of bliss may not be broken by the vain turmoil of earthly feelings. so ends the story of uncle ethel. * * * * * well, said grace, after we had discussed ethel's melancholy story, although i don't believe in ghosts, i cannot do away with my faith in dreams, and last night i had a most disagreeable one, which disturbed me much. i thought i had engaged my passage, and when i unclosed my purse to pay down the money, nothing was in it but a plain gold ring and a ruby heart. my money was gone, and, oh! the grief i felt was deeper than waking language can describe. then, grace, said i, you must receive consolation for your disagreeable dream, in the words of your own favourite song, "rory o'more," that dreams always go by contrary you know, and so i shall read your dream. the plain gold ring means that tie, which, like it, has no ending. the heart has, in all ages, been held symbolical of its holiest feeling, and thus unite love and marriage, and your sorrow will be turned to joy. so i prognosticate your dream to mean. and time told i had foretold aright--for soon after we had arrived in st. john's, the entrance to which, from the main river, is extremely beautiful, showing every variety of scenery, from the green meadows of rich intervale, where stand white dwellings and orchard trees, to the grey and barren rocks, with cedary plumage towering to the sky. grace having engaged her passage home, we were turning from the office, when a stranger bounded to us, and caught her by the hand. grace marley, he exclaimed--my own, my beautiful. i felt her lean heavily on my arm; she had fainted. and so deep was that trance, we fancied she was gone--but joy rarely kills, and she awoke to the passionate exclamations of her lover--for such he was, come o'er the deep sea to seek her. an explanation ensued. their letters to each other had all miscarried. none had been received by either. (all this bitter disappointment, however, happened before the establishment of our post.) so grace, instead of returning to ireland, was wedded next day, her husband having brought means with him to settle in the country. the magician, love, flung his rose-light o'er her path, and, when i saw her last, she fancied the emerald glades of oromot, where her home now lay, almost as beautiful as those by the blue lakes of killarney, in the land of her birth. with the end of september commence the night frosts. the woods now lose their greenness; and the most brilliant hues of crimson, and gold, and purple, are flung in gorgeous flakes of beauty over their boughs, as though each leaf were crystal, and reflected and retained the light of some glorious sunset. in this lovely season, which is most appropriately termed the fall, we wished to _get along_ with our church, and have it enclosed before the winter. this was rather an arduous undertaking in young settlement like ours; but there were those here who loved "old england's holy church, and loved her form of prayer right well." and liberally they came forward to raise a temple to their faith in the wilderness. the "society for the propagation of the gospel in foreign lands" had promised assistance; but the frame must first be erected and enclosed ere it could be claimed. in this country cash is a most scarce commodity, and many species of speculation are made with the aid of little real specie. large sums are spoken of, but rarely appear bodily: and our church got on in the same way. the owner of the saw-mill signed twenty pounds as his subscription towards it, and paid it in boards--the carpenters who did the work received from the subscribers pork and flour for their pay--and our neighbour, the embarrassed lumber-man, who was still wooden-headed enough to like anything of a _timber spec_, got out the frame by contract, himself giving most generously five pounds worth of work towards it. and thus the church was raised, and now it stands, with white spire, pointing heavenward, above the ancient forest trees. as winter was now approaching, how to pass its long evenings agreeably and rationally was a question which was agitated. the dwellers of america are more enlightened now than in those old times when dancing and feasting were the sole amusements, so a library was instituted and formed by the same means as the church had been--a load of potatoes, or a barrel of buckwheat, being given by each party to purchase books with. the selection of these, to suit all tastes, was a matter of some difficulty, the grave and serious declaiming against light reading, and regarding a novel as the climax of human wickedness. one old lady, who by the way was fond of reading, and had studied the ancient tale of pamela regularly, at her leisure, for the last forty years, was the strongest against these, and, on being told that her favourite tome was no less than a novel, she consigned it to oblivion, and seemed, for a time, to have lost all faith in sublunary things. after some little trouble, however, the thing was satisfactorily arranged. even here, to this lone nook of the western world, had reached the fame of the caxtons of modern times. aught that bore the name of chambers, had a place in our collection, and the busy fingers of the little edinburgh 'devils' have brightened the solitude of many a home on the banks of the washedemoak. the indian summer, which, in november, comes like breathing space, ere the mighty power of winter sweeps o'er the earth, is beautiful, with its balmy airs and soft bright skies, yet melancholy in its loveliness as a fair face in death--'tis the last smile of summer, and when the last wreath of crimson leaves fall to earth, the erratic birds take their flight to warmer lands--the bear retires to his hollow tree--the squirrel to his winter stores--and man calls forth all his genius to make him independent of the storm king's power. in this country we have a specimen of every climate at its utmost boundary of endurance; in summer we have breathless days of burning heat shining on in shadowless splendour of sunlight; but it is in the getting up of a winter's scene that new brunswick is perfect. true, a considerable tall sample of a snow-storm can sometimes be enjoyed in england, but nothing to compare with the free and easy sweep with which the monarch of clouds flings his boons over this portion of his dominions. after the first snow-storm the woods have a grand and beautiful appearance, festooned with their garlands of feathery pearls--the raindrops which fall with the earlier snows hang like diamond pendants, and flash in the sun, "as if gems were the fruitage of every bough." i remember once coming from st. john's by water. the frost set in rather earlier than we expected. the farther from the sea the sooner it commences; so as we proceeded up the river our boat was stopped by the crystal barrier across the stream, not strong enough yet to admit of teaming, and we had nothing for it but a walk of seven miles through the forest,--home we must proceed, though evening was closing in and darkness would soon be around us, the heavy atmosphere told of a coming storm, and ere to-morrow our path would be blocked up. america is the land of invention; and here we were, on the dreary shore, in the dusky twilight--a situation which requires the aid of philosophy. we were something in the predicament of the russian sailors in spitzbergen, we wanted light to guide us on the "blaze," without which we could not keep it; but beyond the gleam of a patent congreve, our means extended not. one of our company, however, a native of the country, took the matter easy. some birch trees were growing near, from which he stripped a portion of the silvery bark, which being rolled into torches, were ignited; each carried a store, and by their brilliant light we set out on our pilgrimage. the effect of our most original bude on the snow-wreathed forest was magical--we seemed to traverse the palace gardens of enchantment, so strange yet splendid was the scene--the snow shining pure in the distance, and the thousand ice gems gleaming ruby red in the rays of our torches. they are wondrous to walk through, those boundless forests, when one thinks that by a slight deviation from the track the path would be lost; and, ere it could be found again, the spirit grow weary in its wanderings, and, taking its flight, leave the unshrouded brows to bleach on summer flowers or winter snows, in the path where the graceful carraboo bounds past, or the bear comes guided by the tainted breeze to where it lies. it was on this midnight ramble that the facts of the following lines were related to me, ending not, as such tales generally do, in death, but in what perchance was worse,--civilisation lost in barbarism. many years ago two children, daughters of a person residing in this province, were lost in the woods. what had been their fate none knew --no trace of them could be found until, after a long period of time had elapsed, one of them was discovered among some indians, by whom they had been taken, and with whom this one had remained, the other having joined another tribe. she appeared an indian squaw in every respect--her complexion had been stained as dark as theirs--her costume was the same, but she had blue eyes. this excited suspicion, which proved to be correct. the story of the lost children was remembered, which event occurred thirty years before. with some difficulty she was induced to meet her mother, her only remaining parent. the tide of time swept back from the mother's mind, and she hastened to embrace the child of her memory, but, alas! the change. there existed for her no love in the bosom of the lost one. her relatives wishing to reclaim her from her savage life, earnestly besought her to remain with them, but their ways were not as her's--she felt as a stranger with them, and rejoined the indian band, with whom she still remains. the lost children. at early morn a mother stood, her hands were raised to heaven. and she praised almighty god for the blessings he had given; but far too deep were they encircled in her heart,-- too deep for human weal, for earth and love must part. she looked with hope too bright on the forms that by her bent, and loved, by far too fondly, those treasures god had sent. they bound her to the earth, with love's own golden chain, how were its bright links severed by the spirit's wildest pain? she parted the rich tresses, and kissed each snowy brow, and where, oh! happy mother, was one so blest as thou? the summer sun was shining all cloudless o'er the lea, when forth her children bounded, in childhood's summer glee. they strayed along the woody banks, all fringed with sunny green, where, like a silver serpent, the river ran between. their glad young voices rose, as they thought of flower or bird, and they sang the joyous fancies that in each spirit stirred. oh! sister, see that humming bird; saw ye ever ought so fair? with wings of gold and ruby, he sparkles through the air; let us follow where he flies o'er yonder hazel dell, for oh! it must be beautiful where such a thing can dwell. yet to me it seemeth still, that his rest must be on high; methinks his plumes are bathed in the even's crimson sky: how lovely is this earth, where such fair things we see, and yet how much more glorious the power that bids them be! nay, sister, let us stay where those water lilies float, so spotless and so pure like a fairy's pearly boat. listen to the melody that cometh soft and low, as through the twining tendrils the water glides below. perchance 'twas in a spot like this, and by a stream as mild, where the jewish mother laid her gentle hebrew child. then rested they beneath the trees, where, through the leafy shade, in ever-changing radiance, the broken sun-light played; and spoke in words, whose simple truth revealed the guileless soul, till softly o'er their senses a quiet slumber stole. lo! now a form comes glancing along the waters blue, and moored among the lilies lay an indian's dark canoe. the days of ancient feud were gone. the axe was buried deep. and stilled the red man's warfare, in unawaking sleep. why stands he then so silently, where those fair children lie? and say, what means the flashing of the indian's eagle eye? he thinks him of his lonely spouse, within her forest glade; around her silent dwelling no children ever played. no voice arose to greet him when he at eve would come, but sadness ever hovered around his dreary home. oh! with those lovely rose-buds were my lone hearth-stone blest, my richest food should cheer them, my softest furs should rest. their kindred drive us onward, where the setting sunbeams shine; they claim our father's heritage, why may not these be mine? he raised the sleeping children, oh! sad and dreary day! and o'er the dancing waters he bore them far away. he wiled their hearts' young feelings with words and actions kind, and soon the past went fading all dream-like from their mind. * * * * * oh! brightly sped the beaming sun along his glorious way, and feathery clouds of golden light around his parting lay. in beauty came the holy stars, all gleaming mid the blue, it seemed as o'er the lovely earth a blessed calm they threw. a sound of grief arose on the dewy evening air, it bore the bitter anguish of a mortal's wild despair; a wail like that which sounded throughout judea's land, when herod's haughty minions obeyed his dark command. the mourning mother wept because her babes were not, their forms were gone for ever from each familiar spot. oh! had they sought the river, and sunk beneath its wave; or had the dark recesses of the forest been their grave. the same deep tinge of sorrow, each surmise ever bore; her gems from her were taken; of their fate she knew no more. long years of withering woe went on, each sadly as the last, to other's ears the theme became a legend of the past. but she, oh! bright she cherished their memory enshrined, with all a mother's fondness and fadeless truth entwined. many a hope she treasured in sorrow's gloom had burst, but still her spirit knew no grieving like the first. along her faded forehead the hand of time had crost, and every furrow told her mourning for the lost. with such deep love within her, what words the truth could give, howe'er she heard the tidings-- "thy children yet they live." but one alone was near, and with rushing feelings wild, the aged mother flew to meet once more her child. a moment passed away-- the lost one slowly came, and stood before her there-- a tall and dark-browed dame. far from her swarthy forehead her raven hair was roll'd; she spoke to those around her, her voice was stern and cold: "why seek ye here to bind me, i would again be free; they say ye are my kindred-- but what are ye to me? my spring of youth was past with the people of the wild: and slumber in the green-wood my husband and my child. 'tis true i oft have seen ye in the visions of the night; but many a shadow comes from the dreamer's land of light. if e'er i've been among ye, save in my wandering thought, the memory has passed away-- ye long have been forgot." and were not these hard words to come to that fond mother's heart, who through such years of agony had kept her loving part. her wildest wish was granted-- her deepest prayer was heard-- yet it but served to show her how deeply she had err'd. the mysteries of god's high will may not be understood; and mortals may not vainly ask, to them, what seemeth good. with spirit wrung to earth, in grief she bowed her head: "oh! better far than meet thee thus, to mourn thee with the dead." but, think ye, he who comforted the widowed one of nain-- who bade the lonely hagar with hope revive again? think ye that mother's trusting love should bleed without a balm? no! o'er the troubled spirit there came a blessed calm. amid the savage relics around her daughter flung, upon her naked bosom a crucifix there hung. and though the simple indian false tenets might enthral-- yet, 'twas the blessed symbol of him who died for all. and the mourner's heart rejoiced for the promise seemed to say-- she shall be thine in heaven, when the world has passed away. tho' now ye meet as strangers, yet there ye shall be one; and live in love for ever, when time and earth are gone. in the days of the early settling of the country, marriages were attended with a ceremony called stumping. this was a local way of publishing the banns, the names of the parties and the announcement of the event to take place being written on a slip of paper, and inserted on the numerous stumps bordering the corduroy road, that all who ran might read, though perchance none might scan it save some bewildered fox or wandering bear; the squire read the ceremony from the prayer-book, received his dollar, and further form for wedlock was required not. now they order these things differently. a wedding is a regular frolic, and generally performed by a clergyman (though a few in the back settlements still adhere to the custom of their fathers), a large party being invited to solemnise the event. the last winter we were in the country we attended one some distance from home; but here, while flying along the ice paths, distance is not thought of. nothing can be more exhilarating than sleigh-riding, the clear air bracing the nerves, and the bells ringing gladly out. these bells are worn round the horse's neck and on the harness, to give warning of the sleigh's approach, which otherwise would not be heard over the smooth road. the glassy way was crowded with skaters, gliding past with graceful ease and folded arms, "as though they trod on tented ground." we soon reached our destination, and found assembled a large and joyous party. the festival commenced in the morning, and continued late. the fare was luxuriant, and the bride, in her white dress and orange blossoms (for, be it known, such things are sometimes seen, even in this region of spruce and pine), looked as all brides do, bashful and beautiful. the "grave and pompous father," and busy-minded mother, had a look which, though concealed, told that at heart they rejoiced to see their "bairn respeckit like the lave," and "all indeed went merry as a marriage bell." we and some others left at midnight. the air was piercingly cold, and the bear skins in which we were wrapped soon had a white fringe, where fell the fast congealing breath. there was no moon, and the stars looked dim, in the fitful gleam of the streamers of the aurora borealis, which were glancing in corruscations of awful grandeur along the heavens, now throwing a blood red glare on the snow, their pale sepulchral rays of green or blue imparting a ghastly horror to the scene, or arranging themselves like the golden pillars of some mighty organ, while, ever and again, a wild unearthly sound is heard, as if swords were clashing. those mysterious northern lights, whose appearance in superstitious times was supposed to threaten, or be the forerunner, of dire calamity; and no wonder was it, for even now, with all the light science has thrown upon such things, there is attached to them, seen as they are in this country, a feeling of dread which cannot all be dispelled. travelling on the ice is not altogether free from danger; and even when it is thought safe, there are places where it is dangerous to go. the best plan of avoiding these is to follow the track of those who have gone before--never, but with caution, and especially at night, striking out a new one. one of the parties who accompanied us wished to reach the shore. there was a path which, though rather longer, would have led him safely to it, but he determined to strike across the unmarked ice, to where be wished to land. all advised him to take the longer way, but he was resolute, and turned his horse's head from us. the gallant steed bounded forward--the golden light was beaming from the sky--and we paused to watch his progress. a fearful crashing was heard--then a sharp crack, and sleigh, horse, and rider vanished from our sight. 'twas horrible to see them thus enclosed in that cold tomb. assistance was speedily sought from the shore, but ere it came i heard the horrid shout of "steeds that snort in agony," while the blue sulphurous flash from above showed the man struggling helplessly among the breaking ice. poles were placed from the solid parts to where he was, and he was rescued. he was carried to the nearest house, and with some difficulty restored to warmth. the sleighing rarely passes without many such accidents occurring, merely through want of caution. when the balmy breezes of spring again blew ever new brunswick, circumstances had arisen which induced me to leave it, and though i loved it not as my native land, i sighed to go, so much of kindness and good feeling had i enjoyed among its dwellers; and i stood on the vessel's deck, gazing on it till the green trees and white walls of partridge-island faded in the distance, and the rolling waves of the bay of fundy, throwing me into that least terrestrial of all maladies, the "mal du mer," rendered me insensible of all sublunary cares.