* * * * *
Queenstown, April 14th.
What joy! four hours in harbour given us to recruit our emaciated
forms and write you a few lines of our experiences and trials. You
wished us to keep a diary with every detail, which we will try our
best to do, beginning by telling of the cheerless journey to
Liverpool in rain, the elements even seeming to lament our
departure. The bad weather has lasted more or less ever since,
just one gleam of sunshine brightening us up on leaving the wharf,
but we saw nothing of the Mersey or the surroundings. The only
thing that struck us most forcibly was the smallness of our ship,
though it was 6,000 tons. It has just been re-docked and
overhauled, and still smells horribly of paint and full of
workmen, whom, however, we drop here, in exchange for 1,200
emigrants. These, with about sixty first-class passengers and a
hold full of potatoes, form our cargo. We began life bravely last
night, enjoying a very good dinner, and after playing a rubber of
whist retired to our berths congratulating ourselves on what
excellent sailors we were going to be; but alas!... Dressing this
morning was too difficult, the ship rolled fearfully, even the
friends who came with us thus far, and consider themselves first-
class sailors, think that it will be more prudent to go by train
through Ireland home, instead of waiting for the return boat of
the same line which calls here on Sunday and is to take them to
Liverpool. We almost wish we could turn tail; the prospect of ten
days more of the briny ocean is not what at this moment we most
fancy. However, in the short time we have been in harbour we have
been recruiting to start afresh, and hope for better weather.
* * * * *
Mid Atlantic.
Dearest M.
I sadly fear I must have contributed more paving-stones for a
certain region; for many good resolutions did I make in starting,
and not one of them has been kept, not even so much as writing
daily a portion of a letter to be sent home from New York. And now
my long story will have to be cut short, and the doings of the
last fifteen days will have to be crowded into a very limited
space; for we are in sight of land, and our excitement can only be
compared to that of school boys the last day of the term. The joy
of landing will not be unmingled with regrets in parting from our
fellow-passengers, with whom we have become fast friends; and we
are inclined mutually to believe in transmigration of souls, and
that we must have known each other in some prior state. Some are
going into Minnesota, three of them having bought 13,000 acres in
the Red River valley, which they are going to farm on a large
scale, and hope in four years to have made fortunes, another owns
mines in Colorado, having been one of the first pioneers of the
San Juan district; he is in a fair way to a princely fortune. I
fear golden apples will not be strewn on our paths, even though we
are bound the furthest west. Fifteen days have we been out of
sight of land; two days out from Queenstown we broke a piston-rod,
which obliged us to lay to, in a fearfully rough sea, for five
hours. Next day one of our four boilers burst, and again another
piston-rod; which accidents, combined with contrary winds and
heavy seas, reduced our speed to nearly half for the remainder of
the journey. Our spirits have not flagged, as, thanks to various
small games such as pitch-and-toss, running races when the ship
was rolling, quoits, and cards, we have not found time unbearably
long. The last few days we have had big sweepstakes on the run of
the ship; but, unfortunately, none of our party have won them. One
evening we had a concert; but you may imagine the talent on board
was not great when they had to call upon one of us to accompany
the _prima donna_, and the other to sing a second in a duet;
another evening we danced--or rather tried to--our band consisting
of a concertina and a flute, played by two of the steerage
passengers, but the vessel rolled so persistently that we often
lost our equilibrium and reeled like drunken men and women.
I must stop: curiosity bids me go on deck. We shall shortly be in
the quarantine harbour, the entrance of which is said to be very
fine; though I very much doubt our being able to see anything, as,
in spite of being in this much boasted climate of the new world,
it is raining and is dull enough to rejoice the hearts of true
John Bulls like your daughter's.
* * * * *
NAVY YARD, NEW YORK, April 30th.
I hope you will have got our letters sent off by the ship's boat
the night before we were allowed to land, as, though we arrived in
the quarantine harbour at 7 o'clock, it was too late for the
Custom-house and medical officers to inspect us; we therefore had
to lay to, and only moved up to the wharf about 8 o'clock the next
morning. We were greeted by a most kind letter of welcome, and the
first thing we saw as we got to the dock was the Navy Yard Tug
with the Commodore and daughters on board to receive us; and,
thanks to them, we had no difficulties or bothers. The Custom-
house men went through the form of opening two of our boxes and
inquiring into the age of our saddle, which had been used but
looked terribly new, hardly as if it had been in wear six months,
which is the given period for things to pass in free of duty. We
then steamed round New York through much shipping and under a most
marvellous new suspension bridge, which is to join New York and
Brooklyn, to the dockyard; where we had another most hearty
reception from our hostess. They had all been in a fidget at our
being so many days late, and directly the ship was telegraphed off
Sandy Hook the last night, in spite of the pouring rain, the
Commodore had gone down in the tug to the Quarantine Harbour to
try and get us off.
Since our arrival we have been "doing" New York, and are woefully
disappointed in the size of the streets. Fifth Avenue I expected
to find a Parisian Boulevard with trees lining the "side walks,"
instead of houses of all shapes and sizes, which are good inside,
judging by one of the large ones we went to see, but nothing much
from the outside. Day-light in the streets is almost shut out in
the "City" part of the town by the endless telegraph wires and
advertisements hung across, to say nothing of the elevated
railroads built on iron girders, which circulate round at the
height of second-floor windows. We have made a good deal of use of
the railroad; it is pleasanter than our under-ground, the
atmosphere being "rather" clearer, though at first it is startling
to see the twists and curves the trains give to get round the
corners of the streets, and to watch the moving of objects at
about forty feet below you.
I am not at all surprised people do not care to drive much, as
tramways pass through every street almost, and all are so badly
paved that paint and springs would suffer. The ferry-boats which
ply between the cities, starting every five minutes from different
wharves, astonished us most; waggons, carriages, &c., all drive on
twenty at a time, and three or four hundred foot-passengers, the
latter paying two cents per passage.
On the whole I think we have seen almost everything that is to be
seen. We spent an afternoon in the Central Park, lunched at both
of Delmonico's restaurants, dined at the invitation of our banker
at "Pinards," where the roses were lovely, the centre bouquet
measuring two feet across, and each lady having different-coloured
bunches on her serviette; a play at Walleck's, theatre both pretty
and well-ventilated, and a most splendid exit, the stalls on the
same level as the street--the whole place seemed to empty itself
in about five minutes; and a day's expedition to Statten Island,
from which we had a lovely view of New York, its surroundings, and
the whole harbour. To-morrow we are to go for three nights to
Washington, returning here to start westwards on Monday, though
everybody tells us we are going too early in the year. The spring
in Manitoba has been very late. A----, writing on the 26th of
April, says they are just starting work, but cannot do much at
present on account of the water from the melted snow not having
run off. The rivers have broken up. The Red River carried away one
of the two bridges at Winnipeg. He happened to be in town at the
time, and although he didn't see the bridge go, saw it afterwards
and the jam. The ice was blocked for about a mile above, tumbling
all over the place, making the river rise about ten feet an hour,
washing out all the neighbouring houses. It lasted about ten
hours, then crash it all went, floating quietly down the stream,
the water receding at the same time. There has been so much snow
this year, which makes everything backward; but it has all gone in
a week. It must be quite marvellous how quickly it disappears, as,
going from one farm to the other, distance about seven miles,
starting at 4 o'clock A.M. with the thermometer showing twenty
degrees of frost, when the sun got up it was so hot he, A----,
couldn't get back. Next morning, starting equally early, he only
travelled two miles; the snow was so soft the horses sank at every
step above their knees. He was trying to take a sledge-load of hay
over to his "Boyd" farm. The cattle there having run very short
lately, they even had to take some of the thatching, which was of
hay, off the roof of the stable to feed the animals. We may have
difficulty in getting up to Winnipeg, as the railroad is washed
away within about eighty miles of the place, and the passengers
are transferred to a steamer, which takes them twenty miles to
another train. There was a fear of famine in Winnipeg, as no
provisions could be got up. Lots of emigrants, when they saw the
water, turned back. Good-night, we have packing to do to be off
early in the tug which takes us over to Jersey city to catch our
train to Washington at 10 o'clock on the Pennsylvanian Railway.
The Commodore's son, who is home on leave, goes with us, and we
have many introductions. We are bidden to a reception at the White
House, and have been vainly endeavouring to get into some of our
hostess's smart gowns; but, alas! they are all too short, so we
shall have to be content with our own black foulards.
* * * * *
RIGG'S HOUSE, WASHINGTON, May 2nd.
We had our first experience of drawing-room cars coming down here,
with very comfortable arm-chairs, and one seems to do the journey
of 200 miles easily, in about six hours, through very pretty
country. I never saw such people as Americans for advertising; all
along the line, on every available post or rail, you see, "Chew
Globe Tobacco," "Sun Stove Polish," &c.
We enjoyed the reception at the White House. Our invitation was
from 8 to 10 o'clock P.M.: we arrived before the doors were open,
and had to wait some few minutes in the entrance, which is glazed
in, and where the drums of our ears were sorely tried by a noisy
military band, which when you get into the rooms and at a distance
sounded well, but not just alongside. After depositing our cloaks,
we filed by two and two past the President, shaking hands with him
and the wife of the Secretary of State, who receives when there is
no Mrs. President, and then wandered through the six remaining
rooms, being introduced to several people as Mrs. H---- of
England, and Miss W---- of England, which we thought would not
convey much to their minds excepting that we were two very un-smart
Englishwomen; though we were much consoled about our clothes
which did not look so peculiar, every sort of costume being worn,
even to bonnets. No refreshments are given, so that we were glad
that supper was included in the "Menu du jour" at our Hotel.
I shall not pretend to describe Washington to you. Any guide-book
would give a more satisfactory account, but it is much more my
idea of a city of the New World; the streets are well paved, are
nice and broad; then the houses are generally standing in their
own grounds, with trees and flowers; altogether it may be called
an "elegant" city. The people were most kind and civil to us. One
afternoon we made two "cabinet" calls on ministers, but the other
afternoon we went for a drive across the Potomac to Arlington, the
ancestral place of the Lees, which was confiscated after the war
and is now a soldier's burying-ground. It has an exquisite view
across the river. The only thing that distressed us was the
bearing-reins on the nice little pair of chesnuts in the buggy.
The reins are crossed over their nose, passed between the ears,
and fastened tight to the saddle, which forces the head right back
and nearly saws the mouth in two. We never rested until we had
loosened them, which was supposed to be the reason why the horses
broke in their trot afterwards, as they were supposed to require a
support.
The weather has been quite delightful, bright sunny days but not
hot; and if only the houses and hotels were not kept at such a
suffocating temperature, we should be very happy both in and out
of doors. The artificial heat has completely knocked us up in
Brooklyn. We had a lovely big room with a large bay window besides
another window, where we often retired for a blow of fresh air;
the result has been that we both have had bad crying colds.
* * * * *
CHICAGO, May 11th.
We are now half way to Manitoba, and have really done the journey
thus far so easily that it seems nothing of a drag; and if it
wasn't for the Atlantic, A---- would not seem to be at the end of
the world, which we fancied whilst in England.
We left Brooklyn on Wednesday morning, very sorry to part from the
Commodore and his family, who have been most kind and friendly,
trying their best to make us feel at home. Unfortunately, having
only just got the appointment and lately taken up their residence
at the Navy Yard, they could do no entertaining. Anyhow, we have
had a very pleasant insight into the home life of America, which
differs in small ways a good deal from ours, and in character,
habits, and everything there is a widish gulf between the two
races.
Our train here was a splendid one, stopping only about sixteen
times, and doing the nine hundred miles in thirty-six hours. We
had a section in the Pullman, which makes a double seat facing
each other by day, and at night the two seats are converted into a
bed, with the second bed pulled down from the roof, on which
mattresses, blankets, and sheets are all arranged with a
projecting board at the head and foot, and a curtain in front, so
that one is quite private, and we slept like tops. We had also a
dining-car on, where every luxury of the season, to strawberries
and cream, were served by the blackest of niggers in the whitest
of garments, for the sum of a dollar a head per meal.
Only fancy our delight, after leaving Harrisburgh about 3 o'clock
in the afternoon, to find friends in the train, people from an
adjoining county in England who knew all our friends, and with
whom we had much in common. I need hardly tell you that we did
"chin" it until our ways parted at this station, they going to the
Grand Pacific, we to the Treemont which had been recommended to us
as being a quieter hotel for ladies alone.
Men make these hotels their club, where they smoke and lounge all
day; but as there is a second door for ladies, one is not bothered
in any way unless you want to go to the office for information.
We are astonished at the enormous piles of buildings in this city;
land, one would think, must be cheap. All the shops cover an
equally large area, though, in many, several offices are on one
floor. It is too marvellous to think, when one looks at this
place, that three and a half square miles in the centre of the
town, which is now in regular handsome broad streets, the fire of
eleven years ago should have so completely burnt everything to the
ground, though now not a vestige of the conflagration is left. The
houses have even had time to get quite blackened with the smoke of
the soft coal they use, which is found in great quantities all
through Pennsylvania; the mines and furnaces we passed on our way
up.
The country the whole way was very pretty. We crossed the
Susquehana river, which is grand in width and scenery, and started
the Juanita through a chain of mountains turning in and out with
every bend of the river, so that one felt always on the slant and
could generally see either end of the train. Unfortunately it
poured with rain the whole way, so any distant views or tops of
mountains were invisible. Some of the country is like England,
undulating, rolling, well-cultivated fields, enclosed with
pailings which overlap each other and would be awkwardish
obstacles in a hunting country; but one misses, like abroad, the
cattle--we saw one or two stray cows, but little else. Around
Chicago it is a flat plain, and, as there has been a good deal of
rain lately, water is out everywhere. For the last hour of our
journey we came through the suburbs, and, as there is no
protection whatsoever to the line, we had to come very slowly
(about seven miles an hour), ringing a great bell attached to the
engine to announce our arrival, as children, cows, vans, &c. go
along the line in the most promiscuous way; it is extraordinary
that more accidents do not happen. By law, I believe, the train
ought to go very slowly wherever lines cross each other; anyhow
they must ring the bell, the result being that the bells seem
going all day when you are anywhere near the station. We were
given introductions to one or two people here, one gentleman
putting himself at our disposal to show us "around straight away;"
and we visited the principal shops, streets, park, which is land
reclaimed from the lake, and the tramways, which are worked with a
pulley from a centre about six miles off. A Chinaman in San
Francisco was once heard to describe the said tramways as "No
horsey, no steamy, go helly."
The weather has, unfortunately, been wet and much against sight-
seeing, the streets in consequence are too indescribably dirty,
mud inches deep, and everyone is so busy making money that they
have not time to pull up those who are responsible and insist on
the streets being cleaned, though the money is yearly voted by the
municipality, and generally supposed to be pocketed by the
authorities. We leave this to-night for St. Paul, much impressed
on the whole with Chicago. There are one or two more sights I
should like to have seen, such as the two tunnels under the river,
but I fancy one leaks and the other is unusable for some other
reason. I should also have liked to have been to one of the
Niggers' revival meetings; but not to the pork manufactory, where
pigs go in alive, are killed and cured ready for exportation in
less than twenty minutes. Our friends went there this morning, and
the descriptions they gave were not particularly inviting. The
lady hadn't been able to touch a mouthful of food all day
afterwards, and declared it would be years before she could eat
pork. I also have been dying to see a house on the move, but had
to content myself with looking at a large brick house, which not
three years ago had been moved back 150 yards bodily. Chicago is
getting too old a city, and ground is too expensive, for people to
be able to change the sites of their houses when the fancy takes
them; in St. Paul or Winnipeg we may have the satisfaction of
meeting one coming down the street.
* * * * *
THE MERCHANT'S HOTEL, ST. PAUL, May 16.
We left Chicago Friday night for this place at about 9 o'clock,
and, thanks to a letter of recommendation to the conductor, two
lower berths were assigned to us, and we even had the privilege of
not having the uppers pulled down. It is a curious regulation in
the Pullman cars, that should the upper not be tenanted it must be
opened or else paid for by the occupant of the lower; so unless
one takes a whole section one is bound to have a great board just
above one's head, which in nine cases out of ten prevents our
sitting up in bed, and one never can have much ventilation.
We were awoke earlier on Saturday morning than we either of us
quite appreciated, to be in time for breakfast at La Crosse at 7
o'clock. La Crosse is a large settlement of sawmills on the banks
of the Mississippi, for cutting up the wood brought down by the
curiously flat-bottomed steamers worked by a paddle in stern the
same width as the boat, and which push innumerable rafts of wood
before them. We saw several of these steamers, and were detained
for a long time on the bridge which crosses the Mississippi, said
to be a mile and a quarter long, whilst the farther end of it was
drawn aside to allow of two steamers passing through. Our railroad
skirted the banks of the river, and we were very excited at seeing
an Indian and his squaw in a canoe going down stream. The
conductor of the car conversed with us a good deal the whole way,
was most anxious to know all about our comings and goings, and
told us he would be glad to "learn the train by which we returned,
as no ladies would ever be allowed to leave Manitoba."
Unfortunately we took his advice about the hotels in this place,
and on arriving came to the wrong inn. This one is the most
frequented, being close to the station, but certainly is not as
pleasant, either as regards company or situation, as the other,
the Metropolitan. We found one of our fellow Atlantic passengers
at the last-named, and I never saw anyone so genuinely glad to see
friends. He is one of the three men we told you about, who have
invested in thirteen thousand acres in Minnesota. He is down here
trying to hurry the contractors who are to build their houses and
stables at Warren; also to buy farming implements and lumber. His
horses and mules he intends buying at St. Louis. He gives a most
vivid account of all the roughing they have under gone. They are
living in a small way-side inn, nine men in one room with no
furniture. One of them managed one night to get hold of a
stretcher in lieu of a bed, and just as he was settling down to
his first beauty-sleep a carter came and told him to move on, as
the stretcher was his. He suggested that as we are to pass Warren
we should pay them a visit on our way up; that he would take up a
tent and furniture, besides provisions; but I do not think it
sounds inviting enough, as, though I do believe we should do the
community a good turn, besides the pleasure of our company, they
would have a tent and a few luxuries after our departure, instead
of feeding, as they daily do, on beans and bacon, living in a
filthy hotel and having had nothing to wash in until they bought
themselves a bucket. Last night, just after we had gone to bed, a
loud knock was made at our door, and a man asked "if we intended
getting up to-night," at which we were furious; but he persisted
in the most determined way in questioning us as to whether "it
wasn't Mrs. H----'s room," and we had time to get more than angry
before we recognised A----'s voice and simultaneously both jumped
out of bed to receive him, _en deshabille_. It is very nice
of him coming all this way, four hundred miles, to meet us. He
looks much the same as ever, only as brown as a berry from the
reflection of a fortnight's sun on the snow. He is wonderfully
cheery, seems glad to see us, has so many questions to ask of you
all, and swears by the healthiness of the Canadian climate and the
life they lead at the farm. We are none of us ever to be sick or
sorry again!
We have been a long drive to-day, starting at 11 o'clock, and only
back just in time to do our last packing, send off this letter,
and dine before we go on to Winnipeg at about 7 o'clock. We drove
across a bridge on the Missouri to Fort Snelldon, a miniature
Aldershot, with huts and tents, and a beautiful stretch of grass
for manoeuvres or galloping, on to the Minhaha Falls, where, we
stayed some time gazing and admiring and even walking under the
falls. The volume of water falling seemed extraordinary, but was
completely eclipsed by the falls of St. Anthony at Minneopolis,
which we saw later. The latter originally fell perpendicularly;
but to utilise them for the enormous saw-mills built at the
water's edge they have been under-planked, so that the water goes
down in a slant. We were most fascinated by the sight, and watched
the torrent from various points of view.
Minneopolis is much like other Western towns we have seen, semi-
detached houses standing in their own grounds, the grass in many
instances well kept, but utterly destitute of flowers, which one
misses so much. This place, St. Paul's, is beautifully situated,
built on both sides of the river, the banks of which are very
steep. Good-night; in twenty-four hours more we hope to be at our
destination in the far North-west. But we are not to go out
immediately to the farm, as we are arriving rather earlier than
A---- expected, and the men who have been living with him all the
winter cannot turn out before Friday to make room for us; so we
are to stay in Winnipeg for a day or two.
* * * * *
WINNIPEG, May 18th.
Here we are, and we do feel ourselves really landed in the far
North, after a most prosperous journey the whole way. We arrived
"quite on time" last night, rather an unusual thing with these
trains, particularly since the floods, when the passengers were
dependent on the steamer, we saw yesterday as we passed high and
dry on the prairie, which had to convey them from one train to
another across the floods close to St. Vincent.
O the prairie! I cannot describe to you our first impression. Its
vastness, dreariness, and loneliness is appalling. Very little is
under cultivation between this and St. Paul, so that only a house
here and there breaks the line of horizon. There are a few cotton
and aspen trees along the Red River Valley, but with that
exception the landscape for the last fifteen hours' travelling has
been like the sea on a very smooth day, without a beginning or an
end.
We were met at the station here by one of A----'s friends, who
drove us out about a mile and a half from the town across the
Assiniboine over a suspension bridge built exactly opposite the
old Fort Garry, and somewhere close to the spot where our first
English pioneers must have landed from the river steamer some
twelve years ago to a very comfortable house belonging to another
mutual friend, a dear kind old gentleman whose wife and daughter
being away has placed the whole house at our disposal until we can
get out to the farm, which we find is sixteen miles off.
It will be very difficult to describe everything to you. To begin
with, the depot or station presented a curious appearance, such
crowds of men loafing about with apparently no other object but to
watch the new arrivals; so different to English stations where
everyone seems in a hurry either coming or going. And then the
roads we had to drive along defy description. The inches (no other
word) of mud, and the holes which nearly capsize one at every
turn. Even down Main Street the roads are not stoned or paved in
any way. We bumped a good deal in our carriage, and for
consolation at any worse bumping than usual were told, "This is
nothing, wait until you get stuck in a mud-hole out west." Then
our route, thanks to the floods which have been very bad this year
and are still out enormously--the upper floors of two-storied
houses only being visible in many places,--was most intricate. We
had to be pioneered over a ditch into a wood, supposed to be
cleared, with the stumps of trees left sticking about six inches
out of the ground for your wheels to pass over, on to a track, and
then through a potato garden to the house.
We were quite ready for our supper, it being about 8 o'clock when
we got here; and the food at Glyndon, where we stopped twenty
minutes in the middle of the day to "put away" the contents of
sixteen dishes of some various mess or another, had not been of
the most inviting of meals; and though the chops here were the
size of a small leg of mutton and had the longest bones I ever
saw, hunger was the best of appetisers, and we did credit to our
meal, which had been cooked by our host.
This morning we were awoke by the same kind person depositing a
can of water at our door for our baths. He gets up very early, as
he has to fetch the water, milk the cow, feed the calf, etc., all
before breakfast and starting off for his office.
There is a man-servant here who gets 5 to 6 pounds a month, apparently
to do nothing, as he is the only one on the premises who can
afford to be idle and smoke his pipe of peace; but servants are so
difficult to get in this country, and our host being on the move,
having got a better Government appointment at Perth, is anxious
not to change now, so, like everybody else, puts up with anything.
The last servant they had in this house was the son of a colonel
in the English Army, who was described as "a nice boy but very
lazy"; but this man-servant hasn't even the recommendation of
being nice. He was out at the farm working for his board and
lodging, and no wages for some months, but A---- could not stand
his idleness.
We all had to cook our breakfasts this morning, and as everyone
was, by way of helping, either making toast, poaching the eggs,
cooking hunks of bacon, or mending up the fire, the stove was
pronounced much too small. The moment we had finished our meal we
had to retire upstairs and make the beds and tidy up a little; a
half-breed woman living about half-a-mile off is supposed to come
in for an hour and wash up and clean the house, but if it is bad
weather she is unable to get through the mud; therefore when the
ladies of the establishment are away the house is left a good deal
to its own devices, the dust and cobwebs not often disturbed.
* * * * *
C---- FARM, May 21st.
Our last letter to you was written with the first impression of
our colonist life whilst in Winnipeg, where we had a very good
insight of the way English people will rough it when they come
out. It would horrify our farmers to have to do what gentlemen do
out here. They are all their own servants. That lazy servant in
Winnipeg, we were told, gave notice to leave, because one night he
was requested to keep the kitchen fire in so that we might have a
kettle of hot water when we went to bed.
We spent as little time as we could at our suburban residence, so
as to save him any extra trouble, always lunching and sometimes
dining in Winnipeg; and though all the restaurants are bad, still
the food was almost as good as what we cooked ourselves. Our chief
mistake for our first meals was that we put everything on the fire
at the same time, and, funnily enough, our fish boiled quicker
than the sausages, and they again much quicker than the pudding.
Once there was a bread-and-butter one, about which there has been
a good deal of chaff, as it was supposed to be first cousin to
bread-and-milk!
The weather was very bad, constant rain, and we had a fair specimen of
Winnipeg mud. To these buckboards (which is a buggy with a board
behind for luggage), or to any of the carriages, there are no wings to
protect one from the mud, so that we always came in bespattered all
over, a great trial to our clothes. But in spite of the rain and bad
weather we were determined to come out here on Friday. We hired a
democrat, a light waggon with two seats, and started during the
afternoon in the rain, hoping it might clear which it eventually did
when we were about a third of our way. It was awfully cold, and the
jolting of the carriage over the prairie so fearful that our wraps
were always falling off. I had always understood the prairie was so
beautifully smooth to drive over; but found it much resembling an
English arable field thrown out of cultivation, with innumerable
mole-hills and badger-holes, and natural cracks about an inch wide,
which drain the water off into the marshes. If your carriage is
heavily weighted it runs pretty easy; but woe betide you if driving by
yourself--you bump up and down like a pea on a shovel.
We nearly upset, shortly after leaving Winnipeg, as a house was on
the move, or, more properly speaking, had been, as it was stuck in
a mud-hole; a load of hay, trying to get round it, had stuck as well;
and the only place given us to pass was fearfully on the slant down to
a deepish dyke, into which a buggy had already capsized. We caught the
first glimpse of our future home eight miles off, the house and
stables looking like three small specks on the horizon. It is very
difficult to judge distances on the prairie, and the nearer we seemed
to get to our destination the further the houses were removed. The
farm had an imposing appearance as we drove up to it. Mr. B----, who
met us at the gate, was most anxious that on arrival we should be
driven to the front door and not to the kitchen one, which, being the
nearest, is the handiest. He, poor man, has given up his bed and
dressing-room to us, and we find ourselves very comfortable.
* * * * *
C---- FARM, May 24.
The two young men, Messrs. H---- and L----, who inhabit a tent
about two miles from here, and who are building themselves a
stable, are going into Winnipeg to-morrow for more lumber; and as
I don't know when I shall have another opportunity of sending
letters in, I send you a few lines. These two men have been living
with A---- all the winter, and only turned out for us the day we
arrived. It was such bad weather they hoped and speculated on our
not coming; so that when we were seen in the distance there was a
general stampede to clear out. I must say I should have been very
loth to turn out, during this cold weather, of a comfortable house
into a tent, and, had I been they, should have wished us somewhere. We
have already had a taste of the cold in these regions. Friday, when we
drove out here, was bad enough; but on Saturday, when E---- and A----
went into town again to take our carriage back, they were nearly
frozen with the biting wind and sleet they had to face the whole of
the sixteen miles home. On Sunday the thermometer was down to 22, or
ten degrees of frost, with a bitter north-west wind, and we had an
inch of snow on the ground; and though the sun melted most of it, the
thermometer at night went down again to 24. I don't think I ever felt
so cold in bed, in spite of a ton weight of clothes. Luckily the
stoves are still up in the house--in summer they are generally put
away in the warehouse to give them room--so that we have been able to
make a light both night and day. We are told the weather is most
unusual; anyhow, it is mighty cold. Those poor men in the tent
have suffered a good deal; one night the pegs to the windward
gave, and the snow drifted against their beds as high as their
pillows. They luckily have got a stove, but are obliged to leave
their door open to allow of the pipe going out; unfortunately they
have no extra tin or iron to put on the canvas round the pipe,
which is the usual way to prevent it catching fire.
To describe our life here will take some doing, and, after the
novelty has worn off, it will not amuse us quite so much; nor
shall we be so keen of helping our Abigail, who is the wife of the
carpenter and maid-of-all-work, in everything, excepting that she
must always have a great deal to do for a large household like
ours, consisting of four men and our two selves, and we shall
always want employment, and I don't think we shall either of us
care to ride or drive much.
We have fallen into it (the life) wonderfully quickly; completely
sunk the lady and become sort of maids-of-all-work. Our day begins
soon after 6 o'clock by laying the breakfast, skimming the cream,
whilst our woman is frying bacon and making the porridge for the
breakfast at 6.30. Mr. B---- and A---- are out by 5 o'clock, in
order to water, feed, and harness their horses all ready to go out
at 7 o'clock, when we get rid of all the men. We then make the
beds, help in the washing-up, clean the knives, and this morning I
undertook the dinner, and washed out some of the clothes, as we
have not been able to find a towel, duster, or glass-cloth, whilst
Mrs. G---- cleaned out the dining-room. The dirt of the house is,
to our minds, appalling; but as Mrs. G---- only arrived a few days
before we did, and all the winter the four men were what is called
in this country "baching it" (from bachelor), namely, having to do
everything for themselves, it is, perhaps, not surprising that the
floors are rather dirty and that there is a little dust. The
weather is much against our cleaning, as the mud sticks to the
boots and, do what you will, it is almost impossible to get it
off; not that the men seem to have thought much about it, as,
until we arrived and suggested it, there was no scraper to either
door. Poor Mr. B---- was rather hurt in his feelings this morning
on expressing some lament at the late sharp frosts, that all his
cabbages would be killed, when we said that it was a pity he had
sown them out of doors, as he might almost have grown them on the
dining-room carpet. He also amuses us by lamenting that he did so
much cleaning and washed the floors so often; he might just as
well have left it until we arrived. Our time is well filled up
until dinner, at 12.30, at which we have such ravenous appetites,
we are told, no profits made on the farm will pay our keep. At
half-past 1 when the men turn out again, we generally go out with
them, and some out-door occupation is found for us; either driving
the waggons or any other odd jobs. There is a lot of hay littered
about, and that has to be stacked; also the waste straw or rubbish
which is burnt, and the fires have to be made up. Three-quarters
of an hour before either dinner or supper (the latter meal is
about half-past 6) a flag, the Union Jack, is hoisted at the end
of the farther stable--if neither A---- nor Mr. B---- is about, we
undertake to do it--to call the men in; and they declare the horses
see the flag as soon as they do and stop directly. The class of horse
here is certainly not remarkable for its good looks; but they are
hard, plucky little beasts, and curiously quiet. The long winter makes
them, as well as all the other animals, feel a dependence upon man,
and they become unusually tame. The cows, cats, and everything follow
the men about everywhere. They used to have to keep the kitchen door
shut to prevent one of the cows walking in. A---- has got a jolly old
cat who follows him like a dog, sleeps on his bed, and sits next to
him at meals. Mr. B---- has a dear colley with whom he carries on long
conversations, particularly on the subject of the coolness of the
morning and the water in his bath; so you see we have plenty of animal
life about. The men at the tent have a black water-spaniel, which
greatly prefers our fare and warm house to the tent, so is nearly
always here.
* * * * *
May 25th.
We over-slept ourselves this morning, it being a dull day and no
sun to wake us up, so that it was past 6 before any of us made our
appearance. The way we work here would rejoice Uncle F----'s heart
and amaze some of our farmers' wives and daughters. My advice to
all emigrants is to leave their pride to the care of their
families at home before they start, and, like ourselves, put their
hand to everything. We have had some funny experiences; but for
all our hard work we get no kudos or praise, it is all taken as a
matter of course. I would not live in such a place for worlds, but
while it lasts it is great fun; and I think we have done good by
coming out, if only to mend up all the old rags belonging to these
four men. We were much in want of dusters, etc., the first days,
and were told that when the three months' wash which was in
Winnipeg returned we should find everything we wanted, instead of
which there was a fine display of torn under-linen, and stockings
by the dozens, which we have been doing our best to patch up and
darn, but no house linen. We shall do as much washing as we
possibly can manage at home, I expect, as the prices are so
fearful, to say nothing of the inconvenience of being ages without
one's linen. I will just quote a few of the prices from our bill
of the Winnipeg Steam Laundry. Shirts 15 cents, night ditto 10
cents, vests and pants 25 to 50 cents, blankets 50 cents,
counterpanes 35 cents, table-cloths 15 to 35 cents, sheets 10
cents, pillow-slips 5 to 15 cents, night-dresses 15 cents to 1
dollar, petticoats 30 cents to 1 dollar, etc., everything in
proportion. We thought one dollar per dozen all round was
exorbitant, but when hardly anything is less than eightpence (as a
cent, according to the exchange, is more than a halfpenny) it
seems ruinous.
We get 4 dollars 80 cents only for the sovereign here, being
tenpence short of the five dollars.
* * * * *
May 28th.
Our weather is improving, to-day has been lovely; but alas! with
the warmth have come the mosquitoes. I don't believe you will ever
see us again; they (the mosquitoes) bite so fearfully, even in the
day-time, that they will devour us up entirely. A---- is having
wire coverings made for the doors and windows; but, unfortunately,
owing to the floods after the melting of the snow, all the stores
which ought to have arrived in Winnipeg a month ago have been
delayed, and the shops are very short of goods of all sorts and
kinds. There are said to be 4,000 cars with provisions, etc.
between this and St. Paul. A---- and I spent an afternoon at the
other farm, "Boyd," which he rents of a Mr. Boyd, three thousand
acres for 40 pounds a year. It is covered with low brushwood with a
few trees here and there, and a good deal of marsh, and therefore
unfit for cultivation, so they keep it entirely for their cattle
and for the cutting of hay in summer. It is a much prettier place
than this, the house being surrounded by trees, whereas here we
haven't one within seven miles, though last year they did their
best and planted nearly five hundred round the house as avenues to
the drive; but only a few survived the drought of last autumn and
severe cold of winter, the rest are represented by dead sticks. We
tried to see the cattle at Boyd's, but they were away feeding on
the marsh and could only be looked at from a distance, as we
neither of us felt inclined to run the chance of being bogged or
of wetting our feet.
In coming home we called at the tent, and I was surprised to find
how quickly Messrs. H---- and L---- were building their stable,
which is to be large enough to hold two stalls and a room beyond,
which, when they have a house, will make a good loose-box; but for
the time being they intend to live in, either sleeping in the loft
or tent.
To build a house or stable is not very difficult; but with no
carpenter or experienced man to help it wants a certain amount of
ingenuity. You lay out your foundation by putting thick pieces of
oak called "sills" on the ground in the shape of your house. In
town these "sills" are nailed to posts which have been driven
eight feet into the ground; but on the prairie are simply laid on
the flat; on to the sills come the joists, planks 2 x 6 placed on
edge across, two feet apart. Then the uprights, which stand on the
sills two feet apart, form the walls. To these you nail rough
boards on each side, with a layer of tar-paper in between if
building a stable; if a dwelling-house, on the inside you put
against your rough board, laths, and then plaster, on the outside
the tar-paper and siding.
The floor is made by nailing rough boards on the joists, then
tar-paper, and on the top of that tongued and grooved wood fitting
into each other, to make it air-tight.
The roofs, which are almost always pointed on account of the snow,
are composed of rafter 2 x 4, two to three feet apart, with rough
boards across, then tar-paper and shingles; the latter are thin,
flat pieces of wood laid on to overlap each other.
We send you a small sketch of our buildings, which will give you a
better idea of these "frame" houses than any description. They can
be bought ready-made at Chicago, and are sent up with every piece
numbered, so that you have no difficulty in putting them together
again.
Our own house is twenty-four feet square with a lean-to as
kitchen. The dining and drawing-rooms are each twelve feet square,
separated by sliding-doors; A----'s bedroom, the entrance-hall,
and stair-case dividing the remainder of the house. Our front-door
is not quite in the centre; but, thanks to the verandah, one does
not perceive it. Above, looking due south, we have a bed-room,
dressing-room, and large cupboard for our clothes. There are two
other rooms at the back for the men.
The other house is for the labourers, of whom there are eleven, with
a woman as cook, the wife of one of them; it is also for a warehouse,
where all the spare implements and stores are kept.
Besides these houses we have two good stables, one holding
fourteen horses, the other the remaining six (also the cows, pigs,
and chickens during the winter); piggeries; and last, but not
least, my chicken-house. A---- has presented me with a dozen hens,
for which he had to pay thirteen dollars, which with the seven old
ones are my special charge, and are an immense amusement and
occupation.
His farm here, as he has other land elsewhere besides the Boyd
Farm, consists of 480 acres; half of one section and a fourth of
another.
All the surveyed country in the North-west Territory has been
divided into townships thirty-six square miles, and they again
into sections of a mile square, which are marked out by the
surveyors with earth mounds thrown up (at the four corners) in the
form of right-angled pyramids, with a post about three feet high
stuck in the centre. The mounds are six feet square, with a square
hole on each side. To the marking of sections a similar mound is
erected, only of smaller dimensions.