MEMORABLE SCENES OF AUTUMN, 1825.
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 19th 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.,[2] 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 2: 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 7th 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.