The spectacle was not lost on many of us, as our ship passed through the

crowds of magnificent men-of-war and transports, with their sails

glittering like silver in the summer sun. After we passed through the

Needles, late in the afternoon, the wind being favourable, we spread our

wide canvas to the evening breeze, and now the sun went down leaving a

pale glare over the dark horizon; the wind began to freshen and the sea

to rise. The beacon on the Eddystone lighthouse faintly faded like a

little spark and disappeared; on went the good ship bounding beneath a

starry firmament, the dim trackless ocean stretching before us like the

undiscovered realms of the future, and I once more bade farewell to

England. At nine o'clock the last post sounded, when those who were not

already in their hammocks now turned in. I stopped on deck watching the

sailors reefing sails and handling the ship, and when tired of listening

to the piping of the wind through the rigging, and the shrill sound of

the boatswain's whistles, I followed the example of my comrades and

turned into my hammock. I was awakened in the middle of the night by a

tremendous noise on deck. Footsteps rattled, shuffled, and stamped above

my head, and every now and then, amidst hoarse shouting, whistling and

yells of "Aye, aye, sir," there was a sound of banging down upon the

deck of heavy coils of rope. The ship was tilted over very much on one

side, and at times shivering from bow to stern as a heavy sea struck her

on the beam. Several of the recruits on hearing this uproar, jumped from

their hammocks with fright; some thought the mast had gone overboard, or

that the ship was on fire, or had sprung a leak and was fast going to

the bottom; but I divined the cause at once, and told them that the wind

had changed and the sailors were reefing topsails, when they all turned

into their hammocks again.

The motion of the ship, now heading against a heavy sea, became very

unpleasant; she heaved, jolted, and pitched so that I found it in vain

to sink again to sleep, but after a couple of hours I again sunk into

the arms of Morpheus, where from a heavy and dreamless slumber I was

once more aroused between five and six o'clock in the morning by the

orderly-sergeant rousing the men to stow away hammocks and wash decks,

and a hard job he had of it, for most of them were very sick. Just hear

the orders and the replies: "Peter Riley, come get out of that hammock,"

said the sergeant. "Tommy Devanny," said a voice, "d'ye hear the

sergeant? Are you going to lay there all day like a lazy land lubber?"

"Och, sergeant, I'm that sick, I'm as wake as' wather, an' not able to

stand on my feet, I'm so sick!" "You get a piece of fat pork, and bob it

up and down your throat, then swallow it and see if that doesn't get you

all right," "Och, sergeant, for the love of God, lave me alone, I'm

dyen, send for the docther, and the Lard have marcy on your muther's

sowl." The latter supplication was addressed to Sergeant Bramall, who,

unable any longer to restrain his indignation, had seized the blankets,

and was tugging and tearing them out of Private Tommy Devanny's hammock.

A thud on the deck, and a loud roar of laughter, announced that the

sergeant had succeeded in dragging the offender from his hammock.

The men were soon up and busily engaged, the pump and hose were set

going, and the inundation and swabbing went on briskly; all hands were

at work with swabs, scrubbers and scrapers. The ship was still heaving,

although the warm sun had burst through the heavy clouds. When the

breakfast bugle sounded at eight o'clock many of the recruits were

absent through sea sickness. Time will not permit me further to detail

the distresses of landsmen who encountered at starting a gale of wind

which lasted nearly two days; I only wish, good reader, you may never

experience it. I shall simply record the satisfaction experienced by

many of the redcoats on board the "City of Manchester," when the wind

changed and sent us flying at the rate of ten to twelve knots an hour,

as we shaped our course across a well-known bay of tempestuous

character, which, however, on the present occasion was found quiet

enough. It was, however, a joyful moment when the rocky and precipitous

coast of Cape St. Vincent, loomed up distinctly through the hot mist of

the early morning; and before many hours had elapsed our transport was

bounding before the breeze through the straits of Gibraltar. The men

were now perfectly recovered from sea-sickness, and they assembled on

deck looking out for the long wished-for haven, and gazed on the

much-talked of "old rock of Gibraltar," which was to be our present

home. At three o'clock p.m., 25th May, 1858, we moved into our moorings

at the new mole, and in half-an-hour disembarked and marched to the Town

Range Barracks, and part to the Wellington Front and King's Bastion.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXVI.

ARRIVAL—SPANISH BULL-FIGHTS—LIEUT. JACKSON—CHANGE QUARTERS—THE

ROCK—MONKEYS—CAVES—GARDENS—WAR IN ALGIERS—CORFU—VOYAGE—

ARRIVAL—SANTA MARIA—DESERTION—THE MARCH—GREEKS.

The 2nd Battalion 6th Royal Regiment was stationed in Gibraltar four

years, during which time we were changed from one barracks to the other,

about every twelve months. In the summer of 1859, H.R.H. the Prince of

Wales visited Gibraltar, when the troops gave him a right royal

reception. St. Michael's Cave, all the caverns and subterranean

passages, as well as the city, were illuminated on the occasion, with a

grand military ball at the convent, and a public one at the theatre. The

inhabitants turned out _en masse_, and gave him a hearty welcome as he

drove through the streets in an open carriage, with military bands

playing and guards of honour as he entered and got out of his carriage,

at the entrance to the convent. On the 31st July, Captain J. E. Tewart

joined the regiment, and took charge of No. 5 company at the King's

Bastion. On the 15th of August, myself and several other sergeants of

the garrison, with their wives, rode into Spain, some on horseback; more

on side-cars, to witness a bull-fight at San Roque. On arrival we put up

our horses at an hotel, and paid a dollar each to go in.

Where the bull-fight was held is a large structure capable of containing

ten thousand people. It is built of stone, with seats like a circus, and

enclosed with a high wall of ancient architectural design, gaily

ornamented, with flags waving all round on its summit.

One half of this enclosure is allotted and tastefully decorated, with an

elaborately fitted box and a canopy surmounted with the Royal Arms of

Spain, for the Royal family, and a splendid military band on a platform

over the entrance. When drawing near the opening scene, the seats were

all filled with a gaily dressed audience, the Spanish ladies in their

gorgeous fineries, with their fans waving continually. In the ring were

six mounted cavaliers, armed with lances and coats of mail, and six more

on foot, with silk mantles lined with crimson across their arms, and

swords drawn.

Then the gate flies open, and the bull rushes into the ring; the people

cheer and shout; the bull roars and paws the ground, runs at a horseman,

when the rider sticks him with his lance. Madly he rushes at a red cloak

held out by a footman, and falls headlong on his face. In this way they

tease him until he foams with rage. The footmen throw gaily dressed

loaded darts, and stick them in his neck, when the dart explodes with a

loud report. This maddens him; he shakes his head, and rushes at a

horse, tearing out his entrails and raising him on his horns; the

footmen fool him with the red cloaks and loaded darts. When the bull

corners a man, he slips into a side place made for that purpose. After

he is well exhausted, and having over two dozen darts dangling from his

neck, the professor undertakes to kill him. He plays with him a long

time, fooling him with the red cloak and sword; at last, when he gets a

good chance, he sinks the sword to the hilt just in the back of the

head. When the bull gives the last roar and drops, throwing his life

blood out of his mouth, the professor salutes the audience, who cheer

him vociferously.

Three gay teams of smart ponies, with rich trappings, enter the ring and

draw off the dead bull and horses; when the band plays while the ring is

being cleared for another fight. As we returned from the bull fight, we

passed some Spaniards who were driving mules; the road being narrow, one

of the sergeants shoved a mule out of the road, when the Spaniard threw

a stone, striking one of the ladies who were on the side car; then

colour-sergeant Marshall jumped down to chastise the Spaniard; they

closed on each other, the sergeant throwing him down in the scuffle; the

Spaniard drew his stiletto and stabbed the sergeant, who cried out "I am

stabbed," when the Spaniard ran away. Some British sailors who were

passing at the time gave chase and caught him; one of the sailors took

out his jack-knife and cut the sign of the cross deep on the Spaniard's

back, saying, "if I have to swear against you, I will have a mark so as

I may know you again;" giving the Spaniards a good thrashing, they left

them. The wound which the sergeant received did not seem much at first,

but he was taken to the hospital where he lay for eight days, and died

from the wound, deeply regretted by the battalion. The Spaniard was

caught, tried, convicted, and transported for two years, on the sailor's

evidence, who marked him on the back with the jack-knife.

After putting in four months in camp at the Old North Front, where we

went through a course of rifle instruction and ball practice under our

instructors, Captain Kerr, Lieutenant Nugent and Sergeant Parkinson, we

were changed to the South Barracks. Here the colonel and officers

encouraged all sorts of amusements amongst the men. Each captain

purchased a boat for his company, and the sergeants got out a splendid

outrigger 40 feet long, from Clasper, the famous boat-builder on the

Tyne. In addition to the boating, Lieutenant Jackson, of the Royal

Artillery, organized garrison reading rooms, where all the latest

periodicals and newspapers, with excellent libraries, were at the

service of the troops, and even schools where the men could learn

English, French and Spanish, and all sorts of amusing games, such as

billiards, bagatelle, backgammon, dominoes and chess. This is what ought

to be in every barracks, it keeps the men from the low dram shops and

saloons and makes men and soldiers of us, giving us _esprit de corps_!

Lieutenant Jackson was a barrack-room word with the garrison. He made

himself very popular amongst the troops by the unremitting exertions he

used in order to improve the condition, habits, education, comfort, and

amusement of the non-commissioned officers and privates of the garrison.

At those barracks the Roman Catholics and Protestants occupied the same

church, the former at ten o'clock and the latter at eleven. The English

Church chaplain, Rev. Mr. Gardiner, was a most elegant preacher, and a

very popular clergyman, so much so, that the sergeants of the 6th

Regiment subscribed and sent to London for a beautiful bible, which we

presented to him, with an address, couched in the warmest expressions of

admiration and gratification for his ability as an eloquent preacher, as

well as his sincerity, enthusiasm, passionate ardour, and unremitting

attention to the spiritual and temporal welfare of the 2nd Battalion 6th

Royal Regiment, who will long remember Mr. Gardiner as being a father to

both Roman Catholics and Protestants of the battalion while stationed at

Gibraltar. The Lord bless him and keep him, prays the author.

The rock is about three miles long, by three quarters of a mile broad.

Its inhabitants are called "Rock Scorpions". They are composed of

English, Italians, Spaniards, Moors, and Jews. The population, exclusive

of the garrison, is about 16,500. The strip of peninsula connecting

Gibraltar with Spain is called the "Neutral Ground."

The approaches both from the Neutral Ground and from the sea are guarded

by a great number of very powerful batteries, so that the rock may be

regarded as impregnable. Monkeys are very numerous and can be seen from

the Alameda, looking down from the rock on the soldiers at drill, and

running up and down the old Moorish Wall leading to the signal station;

some of them are very large. In visiting the company's barrack room,

when orderly sergeant, one day, the men being all out at drill, I found

a large baboon stealing the men's bread off the shelf in the barrack

room. As soon as he saw me he sprung out of the window, on to a wall

which divided the steep rock from the barracks, then stood and looked at

me. They watch the barrack rooms from this wall and when they see the

men going out to drill they enter the rooms and steal the bread. The

rock at its highest point attains an elevation of 1,440 feet above the

sea. It is perforated by numerous caverns, the largest of which is

called Saint Michael's Cave, which has an entrance about 1,000 feet

above the sea. Thence there is a descent through a succession of caves,

some ample chambers, others mere passages through which it is barely

possible to creep, to a depth of 500 feet below the entrance; at this

point the foul air has barred further ingress, but the roaring of the

sea has been distinctly heard, which leads to the inference that these

gloomy hollows have communication with the waves beneath. Large

stalactites are found in most of the caverns, and congealed stone, of

which many useful and ornamental articles are made by the soldiers and

others, such as shirt-buttons, brooches, studs and rings, with several

other useful articles. There are no springs of fresh water on the rock,

and the inhabitants are therefore compelled to depend on the heavy

rainfall, and every precaution is adopted to preserve as much of the

water as possible; large tanks are placed so as to catch the rain water

off the roofs of the houses, and conduits are made to guide the water

from the rock surface into great public reservoirs. Among the latter,

the Navy Tank, for the supply of ships coming into the port, is

conspicuous, its capacity being 11,000 tons of water.

At present England guards this formidable rock with jealous care; every

available point of defence bristles with guns: the steep rock is

honeycombed with galleries and bombproof barracks; deep ditches with

drawbridges, steep escarps, bar all approach, and batteries are hewn in

the solid rock, frowning alike on friend or foe. The drawbridges are

closed when the evening gun fires at sun-down and are opened at sunrise

by a sergeant detailed for that duty, who is called the "key sergeant,"

his post when not opening or closing the gate, is at the Convent guard,

where he keeps the keys of the fortress. There are several pleasant

walks about the rock, but perhaps the best is in the Alameda, and the

gardens situated at the south end. They are prettily laid out; a bronze

bust on a column has been erected in these gardens to the memory of

_General Elliot, its heroic defender_. Plants and different sorts of

tropical flowers, dwarf-palm, Spanish-broom, the yellow blossoms of

which are mixed with the varied colours of fuchsia,—orange and

oleanders interspersed along the beautiful walks and round the shaded

rustic seats, with the profusion and aroma of the flowers rendered it a

most charming promenade, and during the fine evenings military band

performances take place, when it is usually thronged with visitors.

The adjacent Spanish towns of Campamiento, San Roque and Algeciras are

much resorted to by excursionists from the rock, and during the summer

months are selected by numerous families for a prolonged stay. However

little pleasure or interest a ride over this arid and sandy plain

affords, when once arrived at Campo, the rider enjoys a most charming

prospect, as there is probably no other point from which the isolated

rock appears so grand or picturesque than from this neat little village.

During the summer of 1860, a war raged between the Queen of Spain and

the Dey of Algiers, when about five hundred women and children of the

Moorish Jews from Algiers fled to Gibraltar for protection; they were

sent to the North front where they were supplied by our authorities with

tents and rations during the war, which lasted for six months; their

husbands were kept behind to fight, and only a few old men accompanied

the women to Gibraltar. After putting in a little over four years on the

rock of Gibraltar, we embarked on the afternoon of the 25th June, 1862,

on board H.M.S. "Himalaya," which lay at the New Mole, for the island of

Corfu. As we lay at the wharf expecting to go to sea early in the

morning, Rev. Mr. Gardiner came on board about eight o'clock, to bid the

battalion a last farewell; the moon was clear and shone down with a

silver brightness on the mass of redcoats who assembled on deck to hear

Mr. Gardiner address the battalion. He stood on the quarter deck and

delivered a most eloquent and sympathetic address, which touched the

men's hearts, and drew tears from most of those strong soldiers who were

present.

At five o'clock next morning we steamed out from the New Mole and

proceeded round Europa point, passing the pillars of Hercules, and as we

steamed out we gradually lost sight of the coast, which was beautifully

illuminated by the rising sun, affording us a last glimpse of the old

rock of Gibraltar. This magnificent transport, one of the best in Her

Majesty's service, is kept up to man-of-war fashion in discipline and

cleanliness. After a splendid voyage of five days we reached Corfu at

two o'clock in the afternoon of the 1st July, 1862. No. 5 company,

consisting of Captain Tewart, Lieutenant Hall, and Ensign Græme, myself

and four sergeants, and one hundred and sixty rank and file, were

ordered to proceed on detachment to Santa Maura, and No. 3 company to

Ithica. During the afternoon the head quarters and the companies for

Corfu disembarked, the companies for detachment stopped on board, and at

four o'clock next morning the steamer proceeded with these detachments

to their respective stations, arriving at Santa Maura about three

o'clock in the afternoon of the following day, when we disembarked, the

"Himalaya" proceeding on to Ithica with No. 3. Company. The garrison of

Santa Maura, consisted of Captain Tewart (commandant), one garrison

sergeant-major, four sergeants, and two hundred rank and file, including

the artillery; that day I was appointed garrison sergeant-major and

orderly room clerk besides. We were stationed at Santa Maura about

twelve months. One of the Austrian steamers came in every Sunday morning

with the mails from Corfu. I had to answer by seven p.m. the same day,

when the steamer returned. This was the only mail during the week. The

island of Santa Maura is separated from Greece by a broad lagoon which

abounds with wild ducks; they came in immense flocks in the evening to

feed during the night, and flew away at daylight. Many a night the

officers of the garrison put in after those ducks. After drills and

parades the men amused themselves with different games, such as cricket,

ball-playing, skittles, and pitching quoits. There was only one thing

that marred our pleasure, and that was desertion; an idea had got into

the heads of some of the worst characters to desert—Greece being close,

and only the shallow lagoon between them and freedom; a few of them,

whom we were much better without, deserted into Greece.

We had a lance-corporal named John Smith (a Yankee), who was in charge

of a fatigue party outside the barrack gate, where he induced the six

men to desert. The alarm being given by the sentry on the battery, that

the fatigue party were escaping across the lagoon, I seized a rifle, ran

out the back gate, loading as I went along, sighting it for six hundred

yards. I fired at Smith as he was crossing the water, striking him in

the heel, knocking the boot off his left foot, leaving it behind in the

water where we found it with the bullet hole through it. After they got

into Greece they were free, and we could not touch them; they carried

the wounded man off with them.

A man named John Nobles, who was servant to Lieutenant Hall, robbed his

master of thirty-six sovereigns and deserted into Greece. The sentry on

the battery saw him with his dog early in the morning walking on the

spit towards Greece, but did not suspect that he was going to desert as

he told the sentry that he was going to give his master's dog a run on

the spit, when he let him pass, as he was an officer's servant. About

ten o'clock in the morning, the officer missed his servant; his

suspicions being aroused he opened his cash box, and found the money

gone; he reported it to Captain Tewart, who ordered myself and a

corporal to start after Noble, the chief of police sending a policeman

as an interpreter. We scoured the country as far as Missolonghi, where

we arrived about six o'clock in the evening, and were shown great

attention, and treated well by the Tetrarch, who sent an escort of

cavalry with us next morning, besides furnishing us with horses. We

divided into three parties, each taking a different road; towards

evening we halted at a village. I put up at a respectable private house,

there being no public houses in the place; my escort were billeted on

the people of the village. It being their dinner-hour, the hostess

spread a clean white cloth on the carpet in the middle of the floor, on

this were placed a pepper-box, salt-cellar, and a roll of bread for each

person, little mats were placed round on which the dishes were placed in

succession; all sat down cross-legged round the cloth; a long narrow

strip of white linen was spread round on our knees; there were eight

persons sitting round this spread. A large soup-tureen containing a kind

of thick soup and meat stood in the centre, when we were all politely

invited to commence. They all dipped their spoons in the tureen, and

asked me to join them, but I declined by saying that "I did not like

soup just then." After soup other dishes, consisting of stewed mutton,

fish, rice, milk, vegetables and fruit were handed round; they all

helped themselves. The left hand is used to convey the food to the

mouth, the thumb and two first fingers doing the duty of forks. There is

a neatness in the Grecian way of manipulating the food that can only be

acquired by care and long practice; the thumb and two fingers alone must

touch the meat, the rest of the hand remaining perfectly clean and free

from contact with it. An amusing incident occurred, tending to increase

our merriment. Mustard, an unusual condiment on a Greek's table, was

handed round, perhaps in honour of my presence. An old lady, not knowing

what it was, took a spoonful, and before any one had time to interfere,

had swallowed it. Her face became crimson, tears ran down her cheeks,

she sneezed and appeared choking; but at last, with a supreme effort she

regained her composure and tried to look as pleasant as circumstances

would allow. It is considered a mark of great attention on the part of

the hostess, to pick the daintiest bit of food, and place it in the

mouth of any of her guests. Native wine was handed round, in small

tumblers. I managed to make an excellent dinner, being used to squatting

down to my meals in camp before Sebastopol; therefore I was not at all

awkward on this occasion. Dinner being over, the cloth was removed, when

coffee and cigarettes were handed round. Next morning we had a cup of

coffee and started off scouring the country; at last we passed through a

wood where we saw Noble's dog, and close to him was the body of Noble

covered up with a little earth. We immediately acquainted the

authorities, who held a post-mortem examination on the body. We then

searched and found the guide that accompanied him, and had him searched,

when the money was found on him, except two dollars which Noble had paid

for horse-hire for himself and his guide. When travelling along through

the wood, this Greek guide whom he hired to show him the way, murdered

him for the money, and buried him in the woods. Only for the faithful

dog we might never have found either the murdered man or the murderer.

The money was retained by the Greek authorities until after the trial.

We then retired to Missolonghi, when I returned the Tetrarch many thanks

for the assistance he rendered us in securing the murderer and the

money. He then gave me a letter of congratulation to the Commandant,

when we returned to Santa Maura.

The guide was tried by the Greek authorities, when, by a force of

circumstantial evidence, he was found guilty and sentenced to penal

servitude.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXVII.

SIR HENRY STORKS—ALBANIA—VISIT NICROPOLIS—THE BRIGAND CHIEF—

TURKISH BATHS—COFFEE HOUSES—TURKISH LADIES' COSTUME—SERGEANTS'

BALL—THE ROUTE—CORFU—ROUTE—WEST INDIES—THE VOYAGE—THE

BURNING MOUNTAIN—GIBRALTAR—MADIERA—TENERIFFE—SANTA CRUZ—

CAPE DE VERDE ISLANDS—TRINIDAD—JAMAICA.

In the month of October, Sir Henry Storks, Lord High Commissioner of the

Ionian Islands, with his aide-de-camp, visited Santa Maura, when he

inspected the troops, barrack and fortifications, and expressed himself

highly pleased at the appearance and discipline of the troops, the

cleanliness of the barrack and the good order and thorough repair in

which the guns, shot, shell and fortifications were kept. Several of the

naval officers of H. M. S. "Icarus," in which he came from Corfu,

accompanied him on shore and invited the commandant to lunch with them

on board. In November, myself, two other sergeants, and three Greeks,

went on an excursion to Previsa, a town in Albania, seven miles across

the bay. We rowed across in a large four-oared boat. The entrance to the

harbour was indeed a pretty sight; nothing could be more romantic than

the little bay stretched out before us, the variety and beauty of the

numerous groves of olive and fruit trees along the banks, the number of

little boats gliding about on the smooth, clear, blue waters, and small

vessels cruising from one island to another, with the tall minarets

towering high above the numerous white houses, making up as charming a

picture as could be imagined. On landing we were surprised to see the

appearance of the town. A few of the houses are good, substantial

buildings and comparatively clean and comfortable; but the rest of the

town had a dirty and slovenly appearance. The streets are narrow and

crooked, the shops are little recesses from six to eight feet deep,

without windows; they close with folding doors, which are thrown open

during business hours. Here the occupant sits, sells, works and carries

on almost every conceivable kind of business. In one of these places you

can see a dry-goods merchant with his stock stored in a little space not

more than eight feet square: The floor is elevated two steps above the

street and the tradesman sits behind a little counter. The customers

stand at the open front and all the business is done in the street;

every one sits down, the merchant sits at his shop, the mechanic at his

work.

It is amusing to see what ingenuity they exercise in getting everything

within their reach, that they may not change their position. After we

had walked through several streets we visited the barrack, where the

guard turned out, and the sentries presented arms as we passed their

posts; we supposed that they did not know our rank or else they never

would have presented arms, but we were neatly dressed in our uniform and

swords, and we supposed they took us for commissioned officers. One of

the Turkish officers accompanied us around the barracks and showed us

through the hospital. Oh! what a contrast between British soldiers'

barracks and hospitals and the Turkish, the latter are dirty and the men

dirty, squatting round the rooms and lounging on their little,

dirty-looking beds, and the hospital was even worse; the smell was

intolerable, the boards black and greasy, in fact everything was filthy

and smelled strongly of oil and garlic.

We thanked the officer and left the barracks.

One of the Greeks who accompanied us took us to a friend's house where

we had luncheon, which consisted of rolls of brown bread, cheese, salad,

cakes and coffee; after which we hired six Turkish ponies and started

off to visit the ruins of the ancient city of Nicropolis. A ride of

fifteen miles in an easterly direction from Previsa, was soon passed in

pleasant and cheerful company; the beauty of the groves, the luxurious

vegetation, the mild and balmy air, all conspired to add to the pleasure

of the ride; and now we are approaching the ancient city. What do we

see? Before us immense ruins for miles around, old walls towering high

in the air, wide enough to drive a coach and four on their top, with

high-arched doorways. A large amphitheatre with massive stone seats,

encircled by a colossal wall, surmounted with ancient looking figures in

marble, half man, half beast.

After visiting a great many of these wonderful old ruins and learning

all we could of their ancient history from our guide, who was well

informed and could make himself understood in English,—at his

suggestion we took a detour to visit some robbers' caves, which he said

were worth seeing.

One of the wild, deep passes through which he led us is celebrated as

the scene of the exploits of a robber chieftain, named Abdallah Niebhr.

No one could go through this narrow pass without his sanction. The

solitary pedestrian as well as the grand carriage were alike the object

of his plunder. The whole country stood in fear of him; travellers

trembled at his name; a pasha on one occasion, attempting to pass here

with his retinue, was shot dead by this daring bandit. For over forty

years he contrived to elude capture and prosecuted his career of

bloodshed, plunder, and crime. At last he and his accomplices fell into

the hands of the Turkish authorities and were sent to Constantinople.

The passage is now safe and has been for many years, but the remembrance

of these bloody atrocities often sends a thrill of terror through the

heart of the timid traveller. Continuing our journey through olive

groves, we arrived at our friend's house at seven o'clock, and had just

time for a bath before dinner. This refreshed us after our journey in

the hot sun and also increased our appetites to relish the dish of lamb,

roasted whole, and stuffed with rice and pestacheos, besides other

trimmings, consisting of rolls of brown bread, eggs fried in butter,

cheese, garlic and oil, fruit and vegetables. Dinner being over, coffee

was handed round, and at ten o'clock we retired to rest. After a good

night's rest we were up early and had a Turkish bath. This is by far the

best fitted and most useful part of the whole establishment. It

comprises a suite of three rooms, the first is a square apartment,

chiefly constructed of marble, and terminating in a cupola studded with

little panes of glass through which the light enters; a deep reservoir

attached to the outer wall, with an opening which is heated by a furnace

built under it, a number of pipes attached to the furnace circulate

through the walls of the bath and throw great heat into it. A graceful

fountain conducts the water from the reservoir, and on each side of the

fountain is a low wooden platform which serves as a seat for bathers,

who sit cross-legged, and undergo a long and complicated process of

washing and scrubbing. The second room is called the Touklouk, is

constructed very much in the same style, but is smaller and has no

furniture but a marble platform upon which mattresses and cushions are

placed for the use of those who wish to repose between intervals of

bathing, or do not wish to face the cooler temperature of the Hamman

(the first room). This room is furnished with sofas, on which the

bathers rest and dress after quitting the bath. Turkish women are very

fond of this bath, and capable of remaining for hours together in that

hot and depressing atmosphere. They smoke cigarettes, eat fruit and

sweets, and drink sherbet; and finally, after all the blood has rushed

to their heads and their faces are crimson, they wrap themselves in soft

garments and pass into a third or outer chamber, where they repose on a

luxurious couch until their system shakes off part of the heat and

languor that these baths produce. A bath being an indispensable

appendage to every house, one is to be found in every Turkish dwelling.

The outer bath-room is a large stone building, lighted by a cupola, with

wooden platforms running all round, upon which small mattresses and

couches are spread for the men. A fountain of cold water stands in the

outer hall of the public baths. Coffee houses are to be met with

everywhere, and are very numerous in the towns. The Albanians resort to

them when they leave their home early in the morning to take a cup of

coffee and smoke a nargile before going to business. In the evening they

step in to have a chat with their neighbours and hear the news of the

day. Turkish newspapers are becoming common of late in these

coffee-houses, and are to be found in all of them. Few of these

establishments possess an inviting exterior or can boast any

arrangements with regard to comfort or accommodation; a few mats are

placed round on a raised seat, and some low stools for strangers; small

gardens are attached to some, where the Turk may be seen sitting

cross-legged and smoking his tchibouk, while others atone for the

deficiencies of their interior by the lovely situation they occupy in

this picturesque and luxurious land. What a Turk heartily enjoys is his

tchibouk and coffee, sitting by the side of a running stream, or in some

spot commanding a fine view. This quiescent pleasure he calls "taking

kaif" (comfort): on the whole his capacity for enjoyment is rather of a

passive than an active kind, The costume worn by ladies consists of a

gown of cloth or damask silk, with a border of similar workmanship;

opening upon the breast, it displays a handsome white silk gauze frill

round the neck; the sleeves hang loosely at the wrists, covered by a

velvet jacket, richly worked with gold thread: indoors they wear a red

cap covered with pearls and precious stones; the slippers are equally

adorned with embroidery and jewels according to the rank of the lady.

The yashmak (veil), and feridji (cloak), are universally worn by Turkish

women of all classes out of doors. The former varies according to the

rank and place of residence of the wearers, from ordinary calico to the

finest tarlatan, while the latter may be of almost any colour or

material, but green is the prevailing colour; the trowsers of red silk

hanging loosely over a high-heeled and neat fitting yellow morroco boot,

which wrinkles over the ancle. As we were standing in the consul's

office getting our passports vized, Sergeant Parkinson's rifle was

accidently discharged, the bullet passing through the ceiling over the

office. The consul's lady had a narrow escape, for the bullet passed

through her dress. After paying the consul fifty cents each for having

our passports vized, and thanking our friend for the attention shown us

while at his house, we departed, rowing back to Santa Maura, where we

arrived at nine o'clock in the evening, after enjoying three days'

pleasure which will be long remembered by us.

At Christmas the sergeants gave a ball, and issued invitations to

several friends and a few civilians. Dancing commenced at eight o'clock

and kept up with "esprit" till twelve, when supper was announced, after

which the president proposed the health of the Queen which was drunk

with a right royal good will, the band playing the National Anthem, and

afterwards toasts, songs and speeches were indulged in by many round the

board; when dancing was again resumed, and kept up till the small hours

of the morning.

On the 9th May, 1863, we were relieved at Santa Maura by a detachment of

the 9th Regiment, the "Holy Boys," who arrived from Corfu in the

morning, by steamer, and we embarked on the same steamer in the

afternoon for Corfu, arriving there by five o'clock next morning, when

we were ordered on detachment at Vedo, a small island close to Corfu,

but a strong fortification commanded by Colonel Sankey, of the 9th

Regiment, where garrison duty and field days were frequent.

On the 6th November, the British government agreed to give up the Ionian

islands to the Greeks. On the 1st of January, 1864, Colonel Hobbs took

command of the 2nd Battalion 6th Royal Regiment, vice Colonel Fraser,

and on the same day we commenced to blow up the forts, before giving up

the island to the Greeks. In Vedo, the lunette and keep were blown up by

the end of January, and Fort Neuf and the citadel were all demolished by

the 1st of March, 1864.

On the 4th of March, 1864, the 2nd Battalion 6th Royal Regiment embarked

on board of H. M. S. "Orontes," for Jamaica, in the West Indies. At two

o'clock in the afternoon we steamed out of the harbour and bid farewell

to the Ionian islands. The weather was fine and clear, the water blue

and smooth; our ship glided onwards at the rate of ten knots an hour,

soon leaving the land far behind. In the evening the moon shone forth in

all her glory and brightness on the face of the smooth blue waters of

the Mediterranean.

On the evening of the third day we sighted Mount Etna, raising its fiery

summit towards the sky, and sending up volumes of fire and smoke as it

were among the stars, illuminating the country for miles round. Many of

us stopped on deck till a late hour watching this grand phenomenon.

On the morning of the 10th of March, we arrived at Gibraltar, and moored

alongside the New Mole. Here the regiment disembarked and encamped on

the New Mole for a week, with a view to the health of the troops, during

which time the ship coaled, cleaned, and was fumigated. At the same time

the troops got their linen washed, and everything clean and ready for

the long voyage to the West Indies.

On the 17th of March we again embarked, and in the afternoon moved out

from our moorings and proceeded round the New Mole, and passed

Bona-vista Barrack, when we bid a last farewell to the old rock of

Gibraltar, and, as the day was well advanced, hastened on so as to pass

through the straits before dark. Early next morning we passed the

southerly point of Europe, and as we steamed on we gradually lost sight

of the land, which was beautifully illuminated by the rising sun,

affording us a faint view of the sun-scorched peaks of the African

coast. The weather was delightful, with scarce a ripple on the water.

On the morning of the 21st of March we passed close to the beautiful

island of Madeira. The first impressions of this island are delightful

and striking, with its luxurious gardens smiling with gorgeous flowers,

and its mountain sides cultivated almost to their summits with beautiful

plants. Nature exhibits herself here with such varied charms that

imagination can scarcely picture a lovelier scene.

The product which has made the name of Madeira famous and familiar is

its wine, now produced in great quantities; this and the cultivation of

the sugar-cane form its principal trade. At twelve o'clock we passed the

Desertas, a group of barren rocks. These rocks appear to be only

frequented by fishermen. One of these isles is a high pyramidical rock

which at a distance very much resemble a sail.

March 23rd. At daylight the brilliant light on Cape Teneriffe was

descried ahead. We ran in for the land, and the high precipitous rocks,

all bleak and bare, here and there broken by deep and rugged clefts,

rose in bold outline before us. Somewhat later, as the clouds cleared

away, the celebrated Peak was in sight, a grand and solitary object

towering to the clouds in seeming desolation; for, although there is a

certain amount of fertility on its sides, it was not apparent as we

approached it. By eight o'clock we ran into the wharf at Santa Cruz,

and, after a visit from the health officer, all were free for a run on

shore while the ship was coaling. There is little at Santa Cruz itself

to interest the stranger. The houses are poor structures, the streets

are narrow, but they are kept very clean; there are no public buildings

with any pretensions to taste or elegance. Nevertheless, one is repaid

for a stroll in the country, where the scenery is remarkably wild and

impressive—deep ravines, from which bold rocks, rise abruptly, void of

every trace of vegetation except a few cacti and other hardy plants.

There is a sort of wondrous grandeur in this volcanic scenery—in the

scorched craters of these enormous rocks, ribbed at the sides, no traces

of life, no appearance of vegetation—all is arid, dry, and parched,

while away to the southward can just be discerned a fine picture of

woodland scenery, arresting the eye at once by its great contrast, and,

as it were, compelling one to admire the extreme beauty afforded by the

charming landscape. Here and there were noticed inclosures of cacti,

used in rearing the cochineal, which with the castor-oil plant, appears

to be largely cultivated for exportation. I and two sergeants, with our

wives, entered a saloon to take refreshments, as well as to learn the

custom and habits of the people. During the time we were enjoying the

lunch, we heard the landlady say to her husband in Spanish, "charge them

English well, they have plenty of money," fortunately one of the

sergeant's wives, being a Spaniard, understood what was said, when they

had a most amusing row in the Spanish language, the landlady coming off

second best; she did not get as much out of us as she had anticipated.

Santa Cruz boasts of a very ancient and time-worn cathedral, which we

visited. It was here that Nelson (1797) undertook an expedition against

Teneriffe, which although unsuccessful and disastrous, displayed great

heroism and bravery. The two flags captured on this occasion are

retained in this old cathedral, and the inhabitants still bear in mind

the attack and repulse. Here the immortal Nelson lost his arm, and it

was the only affair in which he was unsuccessful.

Toward evening we left the harbour of Santa Cruz, the bright moon-light

affording us a capital view of the Peak, which frowned upon us in all

its grandeur, its head hoary with many a winters snow. A fine favouring

breeze was with us all night; at dawn of the following morning the

island of Teneriffe was looming far behind us on the distant horizon.

From the present may be said to commence our dreary, monotonous, long

voyage, from the pillars of Hercules in the east across the broad

Atlantic to the West Indies. Life on board ship and the varied incidents

at sea, all tend to rouse feelings and sensations which are reserved

alone for those whose business is on the great waters. To the officers

and soldiers—as well as the ladies, the routine on board ship,

especially of this splendid transport, was entirely different from that

they had hitherto enjoyed on shore. Fortunately the varied scenes were

under most favourable circumstances as regards the weather. At first the

usages of naval, every-day life seemed particularly vexatious, and

annoying, when so many human beings were packed so closely into such a

small space; but after a few days, when sea-sickness had been got over,

one and all perceived, to a certain extent, the necessity of order,

cleanliness, and good discipline. Scrubbing, washing and holystoning the

decks, cleaning brass and wood work, the troops parading, watches

assembling, sailors mustering at quarters and divisions, are all

measures which tend to enforce the discipline so essential to good

government. Existence in the limited space of a ship, with so many

troops on board, for weeks completely isolated from the outer world, is

so peculiar and interesting to those unacquainted with the sea, that I

may be permitted to make a few remarks as to our daily routine. From the

hour of four o'clock in the morning, as soon as the watch has been

mustered, bustle and activity begin, lasting throughout the day, and

even to the hour when the night reminds one of sleep; pumps are manned,

water is splashed over the decks in all directions, yet it is absolutely

essential to the preservation of the health and comfort of the troops

and those on board. By six o'clock the washing is nearly finished, when

all the hammocks are piped up and stowed. It is now time for breakfast,

consisting of cocoa and biscuit. The men then prepare and dress for

parade at ten o'clock, which lasts for about an hour. At noon the dinner

bugle sounds, and although consisting as it invariably does, of either

salt junk or plum duff, or salt pork and pea-soup, there are few men

healthier than soldiers while on board ship. Grog time comes next (when

half a gill of rum, lime juice, with two pints of water are supplied to

each man), and with the hour of smoking, constitutes a pleasant break in

the day. During the afternoon the band plays on the quarter deck, and

the men sit around in groups, singing, dancing, and all sorts of amusing

games, until four o'clock, when the sailors assemble at their stations

with rifle, cutlass, and pistol for inspection by their divisional

officers. The inspection over, the sailors resume their work to make or

furl sail, according to the wind. Supper is now prepared, consisting of

tea and biscuit, after which, at eight o'clock, smoking is permitted,

but not between decks, hammocks having been piped down at 7.30.

The orderly officers always go the rounds of the decks, to ascertain

that all is correct, when those off watch are expected to turn into

their hammocks; and so ends the day and its duties. This was the routine

every day during the whole voyage.

At six o'clock p.m., the officers, both naval and military, usually dine

together, when the incidents of the day, and the progress of the ship,

and other matters which are sure to turn up, form a lively

conversational hour, during which time the band plays. After dinner the

assembly of smokers usually muster on deck where all sorts of yarns and

topics engross the attention until bed-time. Sunday alone seems to break

the monotony and routine of every day life at sea; when after divine

service at ten o'clock, the remainder of the day is usually spent in

reading or sleeping.

On the morning of March 31st, we sighted Cape de Verde Islands, and by

two in the afternoon we took in coal at Port Grand, St. Vincent; here we

had a good view of African negroes, who coaled our ship with baskets

which they carried on their heads. They were very tall and powerfully

built men, with no clothing except a little round their loins. What a

contrast in the scenery between this place and Madeira! Here are barren

rocks, and not the faintest indication of vegetation to be seen in any

direction, although its formation is somewhat similar.

The town, if it can be so named, consists of a few straggling houses and

the stores of the coal contractors, situated along the shore, while

stretching away behind are several high, rough and jagged peaks and

mountains, affording a fine background for the barren and uninteresting

coast scenery.

Next day, at eight o'clock, we reached Santiago, another island of the

same group; here we stayed for two or three hours. The houses, with a

few exceptions, were poor specimens of habitations, nearly all built of

stone, and one story high. The interiors present only a few articles of

absolute necessity; of home comfort or cleanliness, in our sense of the

word, they seem to have no idea.

The population appear to be made up of an intermixture of Portuguese

settlers and negroes, who cultivate little patches of land in the

valleys where are produced a few tropical fruits.

During the voyage our drum-major and a private fell down the hatch-way;

the soldier was killed and the drum-major severely injured, so much so

that it laid him up for ever afterwards.

After parade next morning the bell tolled, and the regiment were present

to pay their last tribute to their comrade. The ship's captain read the

beautiful and appropriate service for a burial at sea, and on reaching

that portion, "we commit his body to the deep," it was slid out of the

port, wrapped in a hammock, with a round shot at its feet, into the

bright, blue, deep sea, to be seen no more until that day when the sea

shall give up its dead.

On the 12th we cast anchor in the harbour of Trinidad, where two

companies were landed on detachment. The town has no pretensions to size

or elegance, it is, however, most picturesquely situated along the shore

of the island, backed up by a curiously shaped hill with a large pitch

lake on its summit. This is a very important port of the West Indies,

particularly for the mail service, some eight or ten different lines

reaching here monthly.

At four o'clock in the evening we left the anchorage under sail and

steam, with a fresh evening breeze, running along at twelve knots an

hour. On the 18th April, 1864, at 7 o'clock, a.m., the island of Jamaica

was in sight. At nine o'clock we took a pilot on board to navigate the

vessel through the intricate and dangerous narrows between the reefs. As

the ship approached and rounded Port Royal, we cast anchor in Kingston

harbour at eleven a.m. As we lay at anchor, the sight was indeed

beautiful, the city with its white houses peeping out from amongst the

dark green foliage; with Newcastle looming up in the distance with its

white wooden barracks, on the side of St. Catharine's peak, with its

lofty summit towering towards the heavens, the mountain covered with

forests of mahogany, cedar, yellow sander and coffee plantations, and

the valley covered with large green plantations of sugar-cane. Nature

was indeed looking charming; the view in every direction was

exquisite,—look where we would there were nature's beauties before us.

The entrance to the harbour at the end of Port Royal, broken into little

islands, where tradition says a town was submerged by an earthquake, the

sparkling sea running here and there into creeks, bays and inlets,

together with the evergreen foliage of tropical trees and flowers, made

up a very attractive landscape, which gave us a most favourable

impression of Jamaica. Directly in front of us are the landing-place and

jetties, where several vessels are flying the flag of Old England.

At four o'clock in the afternoon we disembarked and formed on the quay,

where we were surrounded by a conglomeration of the inhabitants of all

shades of colour. After detailing two companies for detachment, one at

Port Royal and the other at Uppark Camp, we marched off to Newcastle, a

distance of 18 miles, seven of which were up a steep, mountain, zigzag

foot-path. The weather being so hot we did not attempt to march during

the heat of the day. The word being given, we marched off with the band

playing, followed through the streets by a motley crowd of negroes,

mulattoes, and creoles, raising a cloud of sand and dust as we advanced.

After a very fatiguing march of ten miles we halted at a place called

the gardens, where we piled arms and rested for two hours, resuming our

journey at one o'clock in the morning, up a mountain road which tried

many of our best marchers, arriving at Newcastle barrack at sun-rise,

very much fatigued after the march during the close, warm night. But as

we marched up the mountain the wild scenery surpassed anything that I

have yet seen, and compensated somewhat for the fatiguing march;—the

mountain side clothed with the loveliest tropical fruits, hanging over

our heads as we stooped under them by the way, bananas, mangoes,

tamarinds, pine-apples, pomegranates, bread-fruits, oranges, lemons,

coffee and sugar-cane; while the air was perfumed with the aroma of the

sweet smelling rose-trees, oleanders, fuchsias, myrtles, ferns, and

odoriferous magnolias, with the deep gullies at our feet where the

sparkling waters jump and foam as they rush in torrents down the steep

rocks, towards their ocean home.

One must travel a long way indeed before he meets with prettier scenery

or a place that will surpass in fragrance and loveliness the floral

beauty and picturesque landscapes of this island.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXVIII.

JAMAICA—THE EXHIBITION—MARKET—REBELLION—THE COMMISSION—COL.

HOBBS—THE VOYAGE—ROUTE—VOYAGE—QUEEN'S BIRTHDAY—EDINBURGH—

CARLTON HILL—TOLBOOTH—QUEEN MARY'S ROOM—DUNOON—DISCHARGED—

DALKEITH—GLASGOW—EMBARK FOR CANADA—THE VOYAGE—ARRIVAL—

MONTREAL—KINGSTON—PICTON—THE DUNKIN BILL—THE MARQUIS OF LORNE.

The barracks or camp were situated on a high ridge of St. Catharine's

mountain, called Newcastle, famous for its exhilarating, pure air, with

immensely deep gullies on each side; each wooden hut built on terraces,

one above the other, consists of one room. The officers' quarters were

neat little isolated cottages, surrounded with lovely flowers, trees,

and shrubs. The parade ground was a large terrace which had been

excavated and levelled with a nice mound round its lower edge, forming a

promenade as well as a drill ground. We had one large wooden building

where divine service was held by all denominations in their turn; it

also served as a schoolhouse and lecture hall. The married sergeants'

quarters were distributed on each side of the ridge, in separate little

cottages, with flower gardens to each. The means by which the troops

were supplied with water was a novel and most clever proof of our

engineer's skill. From the upper end or source of the gully stream,

which was many feet above the barracks, the water was conducted along

the brow of the ridge by means of a large trough of bamboos resting on

trestles, passing into a large reservoir situated a little above the

barracks, from which pipes conducted the water to the respective

quarters and rooms. Before this improvement, the water had to be carried

from the bottom of the gulley in large leather bags by donkeys, and was

doled out to the troops daily. Above the barracks on a flat side of the

mountain, Col. Hobbs apportioned a garden for each company, which we

reclaimed and cultivated, raising almost all sorts of vegetables, viz:

yams, cocoas, sweet potatoes, cauliflowers, cabbages, potatoes, celery,

lettuces, &c., besides pineapples and strawberries, with a variety of

lovely flowers.

Many of the officers and most of the colour sergeants kept horses. Being

the wine and mess sergeant to the officers, I had the privilege of

keeping four horses, which I frequently hired out to the officers. These

horses enabled us to travel through the mountainous country for many

miles.

On Christmas eve of 1864, one of our much respected comrades, Qr.-M.

Sergeant Thomas Bellinton, died of heart disease, much regretted by the

battalion, leaving a wife and three small children to mourn his untimely

end.

In the beginning of 1865, Colonel Elkington was appointed Deputy

Adjutant-General at Kingston. During the summer we had an exhibition in

the hall, of fancy, useful, and ornamental articles, manufactured by the

soldiers of the battalion; and the number of articles, as well as the

skill manifested in their manufacture, was very much admired by the

visitors from the City of Kingston and the surrounding country. Among

some of the distinguished visitors present, whose names the author

entered in his note book, were, Governor Eyre and lady, General O'Connor

and lady, Deputy Adjutant-General Lieutenant-Colonel Elkington and lady,

and others. Some of the articles on exhibition were wonderfully good,

and sold at a high price. A Lancashire weaver made a miniature loom out

of the bones which he saved from time to time, and wove a miniature web

of fine texture on it to the amusement of those present. This was bought

for fifteen pounds. William Sugden, a carpenter, made a model of the

cantonment of Newcastle, which was sold to Rev. Mr. Fife for fifteen

pounds. Henry Foreman, made a model battery from bone—sold for ten

pounds; Corporal Gilchrist, a bed quilt, sold for nine pounds. Other

articles, such as fancy work-boxes, shirt buttons, and several articles

of furniture and wearing apparel, too numerous to mention, were

exhibited and sold. In June, 1865, Sergeant James Rance, Officers' Mess

Sergeant, died of heart disease, leaving a wife and four children to

mourn his loss. I, being the senior Colour-Sergeant in the Battalion,

was chosen and appointed to the vacancy caused by his death.

Sergeant-Major Robert Hyde was promoted to Quarter-Master, and

Colour-Sergeant Neale appointed Sergeant-Major in his place.

We had a market every Wednesday and Saturday round the canteen, when the

negroes from the country brought in all sorts of produce, some on

donkeys, but most on their heads. A line of black women might be seen on

those days, very early in the morning, coming to market along the narrow

mountain path, with baskets of yams, cocoas, plantains, bananas,

pine-apples, mangoes, oranges, lemons, bread-fruit and pomegranates,

besides provisions in abundance. These people come miles with their

loads, and barefooted, their clothes tucked up to their knees by a

handkerchief tied round a little below the hips, securing them in

graceful folds, with a light, gay handkerchief on their heads. They wear

light, showy garments, and are very fond of any common jewellery, which

they wear in their ears and on their fingers.

We were enjoying every comfort in this delightful station, when we were

aroused by a report that the negroes had broken out in open rebellion at

Morant Bay. It appeared, from what we could learn afterwards, that a

local preacher, named George W. Gordon, had been for some time urging

the black population of Saint-Thomas-in-the-east to rise in rebellion

against the Government, telling them there were back lands which they

could get, and urging them to pay him money for the purpose of

agitation. This, it is said, was the doctrine he preached in his chapel.

And a few compatriots of his named Paul Bogle, William Bogle, William

Burie, James Burie, and others, were engaged in swearing in, drilling,

and organizing forces in order to attack the white population, when at

dinner on Christmas night, kill them, and take their wives. But an

accident occurred which fortunately, nay, providentially, brought this

base conspiracy to light.

On the 7th October, 1865, which was Saturday, and market day at Morant

Bay, a Court of Petty Sessions was held in that town. A man who had been

convicted by the court for some crime, afterwards interrupted the

proceedings of the court, and when the police endeavoured to arrest him,

he was rescued from their hands by the mob. For this act, warrants were

issued against two ringleaders named Bogle, and several others.

On Tuesday, the 10th, six or eight policemen and some constables

proceeded to Stony Gut to execute the warrants; they found Paul Bogle,

who, after the warrant for his apprehension had been read to him, told

them that he would not go with them. When they proceeded to arrest him,

he cried "Help here!" and immediately a body of men, from four to six

hundred in number, rushed out from Bogle's chapel and attacked the

police; these men were armed with muskets, pistols, cutlasses, pikes,

sticks and stones. The police were overpowered and severely wounded by

the mob. In the meantime information of this rising was at once sent to

the custos, Baron Yon Ketelhodt, who applied to the governor for

military aid.

On the 11th, a meeting was held at Morant Bay, at twelve o'clock, and

proceeded with its business till about four, when it was disturbed by

the noise of a large crowd approaching, a few volunteers were drawn up

outside the Court House; the crowd advanced; the Riot Act was read by a

magistrate, when stones were thrown at the volunteers, who fired at the

mob and retired into the Court House, when the infuriated rebels

surrounded the Court House and set fire to it. The inmates were then

compelled to leave the building, and endeavoured to conceal themselves;

some fled with their families into the woods, but others were dragged

from their houses and hiding places and beaten to death; some left for

dead on the ground. Women and children fled for their lives into the

woods, and there remained for days and nights without food or shelter,

while their husbands were left murdered. The mob gained strength daily,

murdering every white man they came across. They attacked houses and

villages, and numbers of white inhabitants were killed and brutally

treated. At Farrington they halted and organized in military order,

prepared to resist the authorities, and any force that might be brought

against them. On the 21st October, the Maroons marched out to meet them,

when a sharp skirmish ensued; eventually the Maroons got the best of it,

when the rebels flew. The letter of Baron Von Ketelhodt, written on the

10th October, requesting military aid was taken by the authorities into

immediate consideration, and within twenty-four hours' of its receipt

the 2nd Battalion 6th Regiment was on the march to Morant Bay, where

troops were also landed from Spanish Town, and martial law was

proclaimed in the affected district. After the troops had arrived, they

took many of the rebels and had them tried and executed or flogged,

according to the nature and degree of the offence. George Wm. Gordon was

arrested on the 17th and placed on board H.M.S. "Wolverine," and

conveyed to Morant Bay, where he was tried by a court martial on the

20th, and on the 21st found guilty and executed on the charge of high

treason against Her Majesty Queen Victoria. Paul Bogle was apprehended

on the 23rd, and on the 24th was conveyed a prisoner to Morant Bay,

where he was tried and executed with other leaders. Had it not been for

the prompt and stringent measures resorted to by Governor Eyre in

crushing this rebellion, before it had assumed its intended magnitude,

no one can tell how much more innocent blood of Her Majesty's subjects

would have been spilled by the semi-savage rebels, urged on by the

preacher. As it was, they murdered Baron Von Ketelhodt and other

justices of the peace, altogether they killed and wounded fifty-six

white people. These details disclosed the worst features of the negro

character, but when white men urge them on they are guilty of the

greatest sin. The merciless beating to death, the mutilation of the

living and the dead, the delight in blood and murder, tell how the

spirit of the savage still lurks in the hearts of many of the black

population of Jamaica. The promptness and decision with which Governor

Eyre quelled this rebellion, deserved the approbation and consideration

of the Government. Instead of which, however, he was censured by

partisans. The social circle in England were divided, and controversy

began to rage on the question. In order to satisfy the public, and

settle the question, the Crown issued a commission of inquiry.

On the 30th December the commission issued to Sir Henry Storks, William

R. Gurney, Q.C., and Mr. J. B. Maul, requiring them to make full inquiry

into the "origin, nature, and circumstances of the disturbances, and

respecting the means adopted in the course of the suppression of the

same, and respecting the conduct of those concerned in such disturbances

or suppression." The gentlemen selected were a sufficient guarantee to

the public that the inquiry would be what it was wished it should

be,—full, searching, and impartial.

The Commission was opened at Kingston, Jamaica, on January 23rd, 1866,

and closed its prolonged sittings on March 25th. The Commissioners have

discharged their duties with extraordinary industry, and with the

ability and impartiality which were to be expected of them. They arrived

at the conclusion that there was on the part of the leaders of the

rioters a preconcerted plan, and that murder was "distinctly

contemplated." They nevertheless find that there was no general

conspiracy against the Government, and the inference is, that the riot,

though of considerable magnitude and danger, was not the result of any

very long standing organization, and that it was foolish, barbarous, and

wicked in its origin, although of a local character.

Those who wish to know more about the question can find it by a search,

with moderate diligence, in the blue books, or the pigeon-holes of the

war-office. What I assert here is from my own knowledge and experience,

being present during the affair.

Sir Henry Storks was the guest of the officers of the 6th Royal

Regiment, for several days after the inquiry was finished. After the

insurrection, the Maroons were entertained in the city hall, as a mark

of their approbation and gratitude for the manner in which they assisted

in quelling the rebellion.

At the end of January, Colonel Hobbs took ill, and got deranged in his

mind, when he was placed in the sanitarium under surveillance. In

February he was sent to England, accompanied by his wife and family,

with two hospital orderlies, to guard and tend him. During the voyage,

watching an opportunity when walking the deck, he jumped head first down

the ash shoot. The ship hove to at once, boats were lowered to try and

rescue him, but he could not be found; he sank to rise no more till that

day when the sea shall give up its dead. The regiment was deeply

affected at this sad intelligence. He was very much respected by all

classes, and his loss to the regiment was much deplored.

In the summer of 1866, the Marquis of Lorne (now Governor-General of

Canada) visited Jamaica, when he and his tutor were guests of the

officers of the 6th Regiment, at Newcastle. He was tall and slight, and

very intelligent, with fair hair, and about eighteen years old. During

the three years we were in Jamaica, we had one officer (Ensign Newman)

and three privates die with yellow fever.

On the 24th March Her Majesty's Ship "Tamar" arrived at Kingston Harbour

with the 84th Regiment, to relieve the 2nd Battalion 6th Regiment. On

the 25th we marched from Newcastle to Uppark Camp, and there remained

until the 1st April, 1867, when we embarked on board the "Tamar" for

Cork. At 2 p.m., we weighed anchor and steamed out of harbour, rounding

Port Royal, homeward bound; when well clear from the land we picked up

the trade winds and ran on merrily through the Tropics towards the

Azores, at the rate of twelve knots an hour, full of the hope of

speedily seeing the coast of Ireland.

In the afternoon the band played on the quarter-deck, and every facility

was given to the men to enjoy themselves by the gentlemanly commander,

Captain Sullivan.

The evening of the 6th May, a bright light at Queenstown harbour was

seen, and the next morning we entered the port and cast anchor off

Queenstown, where we hoped to land. But we were too sanguine; for after

the mails were brought on board, a large official document was received,

directing the regiment to proceed to Edinburgh, there to be stationed.

After a short stay, we weighed anchor and steamed out of the harbour,

but not before we got a supply of good fresh bread and beautiful Irish

butter, which appeared to us most delicious after the hard tack and salt

pork we were so tired of during the voyage. Next morning, amidst haze

and fog, we had our first sight of the English coast, as we passed up

channel amidst a very maze of shipping, outward and homeward bound.

Onward we go, sighting the old familiar headland and land-marks, the

Eddystone light, the Start, the white cliffs of Portland and Saint

Alban's Head, until at the last the Needles were in sight. After a few

hours' steaming through the Solent, we reached Portsmouth harbour and

moored alongside the famous old "Camperdown," where we took in coal, and

afterwards steamed out of the harbour and steered our course for

Scotland.

On the 9th of May, 1867, we cast anchor in the Firth of Forth, after a

delightful voyage of 40 days. During the passage many events took place,

which, although trivial in themselves, contributed to render the voyage

less tedious and monotonous; occasionally we spoke or sighted a vessel,

but what seemed to impart an extra interest to our every-day life, when

clear of the Tropics, was the vast number of sea birds constantly

accompanying us, probably attracted by the numerous fragments of

provisions thrown overboard, cape pigeons, those prettily marked birds

about the size of doves; the majestic albatross, stormy petrels of all

sizes, followed on in motley groups, never seeming to weary in their

search for food. These birds appear to possess remarkable capacity for

remembering the exact time when they are likely to get a feed, for day

after day, soon after noon, the vicinity of the vessel was usually

animated with their shrill shrieking and fighting with each other for

the dainty morsels thrown overboard.

At ten o'clock, a.m., we disembarked at Leith Pier and marched to

Edinburgh Castle, "Modern Athens," amid a crowd of citizens, the band

playing "Blue Bonnets o'er the Border," and other popular Scottish airs,

during the march through the city to the castle, where we were to be

quartered; then the usual bustle of taking over barracks, bed-filling,

&c., was gone through. Edinburgh is a very small garrison, there being

only guards to furnish, viz.: The Castle, Holyrood Palace, and Jock's

Lodge. The forces consisted of the 2nd Battalion 6th Regiment and the

14th Light Dragoons. On arrival, the men had a good sum of ship's

clearance to draw, and being flush with money, made it lively for the

police about the Canongate and Dawn Market, so much so that the police

undertook to take some of them to the station-house. This the soldiers

strongly objected to, when a fight ensued; the police got the worst of

it, and the soldiers were rescued. Afterwards they never attempted to

take any of our men prisoners, instead of which they reported them at

the orderly room, when the offenders were punished by the commanding

officer. During the twelve months which the 2nd Battalion 6th Royal

Regiment was stationed in Edinburgh, the officers were delighted with

the society, which is regarded as unusually polished, from the

predominance of the professional and literary elements in its

composition. This arises partly from its being a university town, and

partly from the presence of the Supreme Law Courts of Scotland, all the

important legal business being attracted thither on that account; the

lawyers have charge of most estates throughout the country, so that

there are an unusual number of lawyers and accountants; its medical

practitioners, surgeons and physicians have a high reputation. It is

much resorted to for the sake of education, for its universities and

medical schools, its high schools and its numerous private schools. For

the poorer classes, part of the enormous funds of "Heriot's Charity"

have been diverted for cheaper schools throughout the city. It is

largely resorted to by visitors to the Highlands of Scotland, and has an

unusual number of well appointed hotels.

There are four theatres and abundance of amusements, including an

open-air gymnasium, open to the public daily, admission sixpence. In the

southern environs are fine, open fields, where the game "Golf" has been

played from time immemorial. Excellent street-cabs are to be found, and

street cars run on all the principal streets, and to the suburbs. From

the castle, which crowns the highest point in the city, a splendid view

of Edinburgh and the surrounding country can be obtained. The old town

clustering along the heights, extends gradually along the top and sides

of the ridge which slopes downwards to the east. For some centuries the

city was confined entirely to this ridge, and was flanked on the north

by a marsh called the Nor' Loch. The Calton Hill offers to the view a

wide-spreading panorama, with the Leaning Tower away in the distance

towards Granton Pier. At our feet are the smoking chimneys of "Auld

Reekie," from which we gladly turn our eyes to the blue waters and the

shores of Fife coast, or seek out rest in the shadow of Salisbury Crags

or Arthur's Seat, the tottering arch and crumbling walls of Holyrood

Abbey. The country round is finely varied on the south, and the richly

wooded Corstorphine Hills, on the east, all within a mile or two of the

city; while farther off rise the Pentland Hills, four miles to the

southwest, and to the north the Frith of Forth. In former times

Edinburgh, with its Castle, was selected as the only place of safety for

the royal household, the Parliament, the mint, and various important

offices. By this means rising in importance, it became densely peopled,

and the houses were built to an unusual height, that the inhabitants

might keep within the walls, for the sake of protection.

The stranger who enters what is apparently the ground floor of one of

these houses on the north side of High Street, is often surprised to

find himself, without having gone upstairs, looking from a fourth story

window in the rear. This is due to the steep slope on which the houses

stand, and gives them the command of a beautiful view, including New

Town, and extending across the Frith of Forth to the varied shores of

Fife. The town then consisted of the original High Street, reaching to

the Lawn Market and Canongate, where a heart-shaped figure, on High

Street pavement, marks the spot where the Heart of Mid-Lothian once

stood; and on the south a narrow way, called the Cowgate, connected with

each other by several narrow closes and wynds, between dense clusters of

houses. Most of these houses consist of a succession of flats, each

being a separate dwelling, and of such flats there are seldom fewer than

six, and sometimes ten or twelve, towering to an immense height, and

rendered still more imposing from the manner and position in which they

are built.

A striking object in the vicinity is the Canongate Tolbooth, with

turrets and clock projecting from the front, on iron brackets, which

have taken the place of the original carved oaken beams. Executions

sometimes took place in front of this building; but a more frequent

place of execution was the Girth Cross, near the foot of the Canongate.

The citizens remained content with these confined limits until the North

Bridge was erected, connecting the Old Town with the fields in the

north, on which the New Town was beginning to be built. Shortly

afterwards the line of this bridge was extended southwards, and thus a

level was opened to the southern suburbs, which have since rivalled the

New Town in rapid growth. The Nor' Loch was drained, and partially

bridged over by the mound formed from the earth dug from the foundations

of the New Town, and its situation is occupied by fine public and

private gardens, which now lie in the centre of the city, and separate

the New Town from the Old, where a military band plays every Thursday

afternoon, to the delight of the citizens who promenade these gardens.

The New Town being built with much regularity, in straight streets, and

in squares and crescents with numerous gardens, contrasts with the

crowded though picturesque masses of the Old Town. In recent years,

however, great changes have been made, and several new streets have been

opened through the most crowded and ruinous localities. Among the most

interesting features of the city is the Castle, in which are shown the

ancient regalia of Scotland, and Queen Mary's room, where King James was

let down from the window in a basket, and Queen Margaret's little

chapel, which stands on the ramparts, close to which is "Mons-Meg," said

to be the oldest cannon in Great Britain. It is constructed of thick

staves of wrought iron, with bands of the same material. Hundreds of

visitors enter the Castle daily to see Queen Mary's room, the ancient

regalia, and other objects of great antiquity. Holyrood Palace, which,

with the exception of one wing containing Queen Mary's apartments, in

which her bed-room is furnished just as it was when she occupied it, and

the blood-stained boards in the hall, where Rizzio was murdered, is

plainly yet to be seen. The Bank of Scotland, recently rebuilt; the Scot

Monument in Princess Street gardens, Heriot and Donaldson's Hospital,

the Post Office, the National Gallery, the University and Museum of

Science and Art, and hotels of Princess Street and George's Street.

But the New Town has two grand features about which all are agreed. We

need hardly say that these are Princess Street and the Calton Hill.

Princess Street extends along the gardens, from Calton Hill to the West

end, and is the principal and most beautiful street in the city. Near

Calton Hill stands Burns' Monument, which is a circular building, with

columns and cupola; it has all the outward appearance of a tomb, so that

one is rather startled to find it tenanted by a "canny Scot,"—a live

one,—who presides, with becoming sepulchral gravity, over a two-penny

show of miscellaneous trumpery connected with Robert Burns.

[Illustration: HOLYROOD PALACE AND BURN'S MONUMENT, EDINBURGH.]

In October I went to Dunoon, on a visit to an old friend of mine, who

was discharged soon after our arrival from Jamaica. I went by the

Caledonian Railway to Glasgow, thence to Greenock, and by boat to

Dunoon, where I enjoyed myself in one of the most frequented sea-bathing

places and summer resorts in the West of Scotland. It is situated in the

south-west of Argyleshire, on the west side of the Firth of Clyde, nine

miles west of Greenock. A village existed here from a very early date,

but a new, well-built town, with fine villas around, has of late years

sprung up. Dunoon Castle, of which only a small portion now remains,

stood on a conical hill near the pier, and was once a Royal Palace and

strong fortress. The Argyle family once lived here, but the building

became a ruin over a century ago. After a week's pleasure, fishing,

bathing, and boating, I bid my friend farewell; after thanking him much

for his attention and kindness to me during my visit, I left for

Edinburgh Castle, where I arrived at 6 p.m.

The 2nd Battalion 6th Royal Regiment was stationed in Edinburgh Castle

over twelve months, when they got the route for Aldershot camp on the

30th May, 1868. Previous to the regiment leaving, I got my discharge on

the 26th May, 1868, after twenty-one years' service of Her Majesty. I

parted with the 6th Regiment and my coat with the deepest sorrow, and

lost my regimental home and friends. I afterwards went to Dalkeith, a

pensioner and civilian, and was employed as mess-man to the Duke of

Buccleuch's regiment of militia, the "Duke's Canaries," during their

training. This town is about seven miles from Edinburgh, stands near the

junction of the North and South Esk, and is a station of the North

British Railway. It chiefly consists of one main street. It is one of

the largest grain markets in Scotland, with a large and commodious

market hall. Dalkeith Palace, the chief seat of the Duke of Buccleuch,

is a large, square structure overhanging the North Esk, amid fine

grounds, in which the Esks flow, and unite. The Duke's chapel stands

within the palace grounds. While in Dalkeith I received two encouraging

letters from Canada, one from my sister and the other from my nephew,

advising me to come to Canada.

After the training was over, I sold out my furniture by auction, and

proceeded by the North British Railway to Glasgow, where I took an

intermediate passage for Canada for my wife, daughter and myself, on

board the steamship "St. Andrew," Captain Scott, one of the Allan line,

which was to sail on Tuesday, 14th July, 1868, for Quebec. This left us

five days to wait in Glasgow, during which time I took the opportunity

of visiting many interesting places in this industrial metropolis of

Scotland, and one of its largest and most important cities. It is

situated on the Clyde, in Lanarkshire. This river divides the north from

the south side of the city, and is crossed by five bridges, much admired

for their light and graceful architecture, and suspension bridges

besides. Below the bridges ferry-boats ply at all hours. The city has

somewhat a smoky aspect, while many of the streets are continually

thronged with passengers, and noisy carts, cabs, and omnibuses. In other

respects it has many attractions.

The houses facing the river stand well back, leaving spacious

thoroughfares on each side, and affording full and noble views of the

bridges, and of the harbour with its steam funnels and forests of masts;

most of the leading streets run from east to west parallel with the

river, and almost all the streets are laid off in straight lines. The

houses are generally lofty, and built of freestone; the floors of each

tenement, being occupied by separate families, are entered by a common

stair.

Many of the public buildings deserve notice. The Cathedral, is one of

the finest churches in Scotland. The Royal Exchange on Queen street,

several of the banks, and many of the churches, likewise present fine

specimens of architecture in a variety of styles.

The several equestrian statues, include those of William III., of the

Cross, the Duke of Wellington, in front of the Royal Exchange, and Queen

Victoria, in George's Square. In the Green there is an obelisk 144 feet

high, to Nelson, forming a conspicuous object in the landscape. In

George's Square there is a statue of Sir Walter Scott, a fine statue of

Sir John Moore, a statue of James Watt, and a statue of Sir Robert Peel.

Charitable institutions and benevolent societies abound. There are

several theatres and museums, and numerous halls in which soirees and

concerts are held nightly during the winter.

The wealthier inhabitants migrate to the coast in shoals during the

summer, and cheap Saturday excursions by river and rail, are extensively

taken advantage of by the working classes. To the north-west of the city

is a botanic garden, which is thrown open every summer during the fair

holidays, at a mere nominal charge. With the additional attractions of

the conservatory, large numbers visit these gardens. There are several

cemeteries in the vicinity of which Sighthill is the most picturesque.

There are besides, four public parks, one in each quarter of the city,

namely, the Green, occupying the level next the Clyde at the east end;

Queen's Park, finely situated on a rising ground in the south; Kelvin

Grove, rounding the face of the hill, crowned with noble terraces, and

sloping down to the Kelvin, at the west end of the city. Our time here

was short; the ship sails at six o'clock this evening.

After paying the landlord at the George Hotel, we drove to the

Broomielaw, where the ship lay alongside the wharf, when we went on

board, and at 6.15 p.m. we sailed with the tide. As we steamed out

slowly among the shipping in the harbour, the town of machinery and tall

chimneys, out of which interminable serpents of smoke trailed themselves

for ever and ever and never got uncoiled, the Clyde, as the tide

receded, looked like a river that ran purple with ill-smelling dye, and

vast piles of buildings full of windows where there was a rattling and

trembling all day long, and where the piston of the steam engine worked

monotonously up and down in a state of madness. It was a lovely evening

in July. The sun was throwing a hazy light across the landscape on

either side of the Clyde as we proceeded; where rich golden harvest

fields waved, and the perfume of a thousand flowers was wafted by the

zephyrs, which sighed among the young leaves, and a thousand songsters

sent forth their melody in joyous chorus. As we passed Greenock we could

not help admiring the large rectangular buildings, containing an endless

number of windows garnished with machinery, pipes puffing steam, and

long chimneys vomiting smoke. As we steamed down, so narrow and crooked

was the river in places that we ran aground at 7.15 p.m., when we had a

delay until two tug steamers came and pulled us off, when we continued

our course and cast anchor off the tail of the bank at 8.15 p.m. Here we

were delayed until 2 p.m. next day, when we weighed anchor and steamed

down the Firth of Clyde, with one hundred and seventy passengers on

board, westerly, and a head wind, making eight knots an hour. The night

was lovely, the clear, bright moon threw a silvery light athwart the

face of the deep glistening waters, as our ship dashed onwards, reaching

Kingstown at 10 a.m. next day, where we cast anchor and witnessed a

regatta. The harbour was so crowded with yachts that we had to anchor at

its mouth.

At 11 a.m. we weighed anchor again and were piloted outside of Howth. A

head wind; passed the Isle of Man and Calf-lights at 4 p.m., cast the

log at 5 p.m., ship making nine knots; arrived at Moville in Lough Foyle

at 5 a.m. on 17th, where we took more passengers on board, and steamed

out at 11.30 a.m., passed Instrahull lighthouse at 2 p.m., head wind,

heavy Atlantic swells, most of the passengers got sea sick, passed Tony

Island at 5.45 p.m., three absent from supper with sea sickness; 18th,

Saturday, rough sea, head wind, most of the passengers sea sick; 19th,

Sunday, Divine service at 10 a.m., weather fine, head wind, distance

made 157 miles in 24 hours; 20th, Monday, passengers getting over sea

sickness, although the ship rolls and pitches a good deal, distance made

162 miles; 21st, Tuesday, Lat. 54° 24', Long. 28° 00', distance 203

miles, fine weather, stiff breeze; 22nd, Wednesday, Lat. 53° 18', Long.

32° 48', distance made 184 miles. At 4 p.m. the wind changed, when all

the canvas that could be put on was hoisted, and we ran at 11½ knots

during the night; 23rd, Thursday, head wind, and a cold, damp, thick,

heavy fog covered the broad Atlantic, distance 232 miles, Lat. 50° 16',

Long. 42° 50', 5 p.m., wind changed, ship making 10 knots, stiff breeze

from the North; 25th, Saturday, fair wind, making 10½ knots, 10.30

a.m., ten large icebergs in view, at 2 p.m. we saw two large whales

close to the ship; 26th, Sunday, Lat. 46° 25', Long. 53° 42', distance

231 miles, soundings 50 fathoms, wind favourable, cold, wet, and

miserable weather, at midnight sighted St. Peter's light; 27th, Monday,

Lat. 47° 18', Long. 58° 18', distance made 206 miles, at 10 a.m. sighted

Cape Ray. Newfoundland coast looked very bare with small trees and

underwood. Passed Port Basque at 4.30 p.m. This small village is the

telegraph station of the Atlantic cable from Ireland, _via_ Heart's

Content, Newfoundland, from thence to Cape Breton on to Nova Scotia and

Canada. The island looked cold and barren, with heaps of snow on several

of the hills, entered the Gulf of St. Lawrence at 6.30 p.m., steering

North, light head wind, our ship runs onward very smoothly, making 8½

knots, all hands over sea sickness and in good spirits, with good

appetites, passed the bark _Arctic_ at 6.45 p.m., homeward bound.

The water seems like a mirror, and the night fine, crossing the Gulf of

St. Lawrence; 28th, Tuesday, morning beautiful, came in sight of the

Island of Anticosti at 6 a.m., and at 11 a.m. sighted the coast of

Gaspé, passed Cape Rozier at 4 p.m., night fine, not a ripple on the

face of the deep; 29th, Wednesday, steamed along the coast of Lower

Canada, but a thick fog came on which caused much delay, at 10.30 a.m,

we reached "Father Point," where we fired a gun for a pilot to come on

board, when we were answered in the thick fog by one from the pilot,

whose boat we had passed some distance, the fog being so thick we did

not see him. However, after he answered we lay too and took him on board

at 11.20 a.m., then steamed forward at 10 knots, coasting along the bank

of the river, where we had a view now and then, as the fog cleared, of

small villages along the coast. The houses were all white and built of

wood; the land for the most part appeared covered with thick forests,

but near the villages were some spots cleared and under cultivation,

which were green with either grass or crops, but owing to the fog we

could not well make out the coast, however, now and then the fog cleared

away for a short time as it were to let us have a bird's-eye view of the

country on either side of us. The pilot brought on board some newspapers

which we amused ourselves reading while the fog lasted. Passed Cacouna

at 5.30 p.m., it is a watering place on the banks of the St. Lawrence,

about 80 miles from Quebec; it appears a pretty place with one church

which we could see plainly. Passed the Brandy Pots at 5.45 p.m., and

River Du Loup at the opposite side, at the same time. This village is a

French settlement, and is the terminus of the Grand Trunk Railway,

distance made 250 miles.

At eleven a.m. we weighed anchor again and proceeded on our way, and

after a pleasant voyage of 15 days, arrived at Quebec, on the 30th of

July.

On comparing chronometers, we found a difference in the time between

Quebec and Greenwich of 5h. 44m. 49s.

From here we took the express train to Montreal, and put up at the

Albion Hotel. The scenery along the line of the railway seemed to me so

strange; the country was covered with wood; wherever I looked there was

wood—everything seemed wooden.

At 8 o'clock next morning we took the train for that ancient

limestone-fortified City of Kingston—the city of the Thousand

Isles—where we arrived at 2 p.m., and drove in a cab to the

Anglo-American Hotel where we stayed till next day, at 3 p.m., when we

took the steamer "Bay of Quinté" for Picton. The scenery along the

beautiful Bay of Quinté, from Kingston to Picton, was delightful. I

stayed on deck during the evening, enchanted with the wild landscape and

picturesque scenery, arriving at Picton at 8 p.m., when we rode in Mrs.

Blanchard's 'bus up to my sister's.

I visited my friends for a month when I went steward of Ontario College,

where I stayed for twelve months, when I bought a property on Main

Street; here I went into the grocery business, during which time I

messed the 16th Battalion County Prince Edward Volunteers, and the

summer following I messed the officers at Picton and again at Kingston

in 1871.

The same year I applied to the Council at Picton for a license—which

was granted—for my house, which I named the "Victoria Hotel," where I

carried on business as a hotel-keeper until the year 1878, when I sold

the hotel through the effects of the Dunkin Act, after laying out a

large sum of money in enlarging and building an addition to the house,

also stables and sheds. For two or three years previous to voting on the

Dunkin Bill, a few fanatics—in order to get their names before the

public as great temperance advocates, not knowing of anything better to

preach about, like the Turkish Dervishes, tried to make people believe

that they were all saints and everybody else sinners; although the

temperance saints generally had a bottle in the garret or the cellar

which they used when not observed.

They held meetings all over the county, and any person who did not join

them had no chance of being elected to any public office. Men who were

ambitious were obliged to attend their meetings in order to gain

popularity, and dare not go into an hotel. An honest, straightforward,

truthful man, unless he agreed with them, had a poor chance of being

elected to any office. At any rate, the Dunkin side got strong enough to

carry the election. Most of those who were against it would not vote

through fear of their neighbours, they said it made little difference to

them whether there was license or not. Through this sort of intimidation

the vote was carried by the Dunkinites and became law in the county. At

the end of twelve months another vote was taken to repeal it, when the

Dunkinites again carried the election, owing to several local orators

who stood up where the Dunkinites held meetings throughout the country

and preached against its repeal. These men, of course, gained popularity

with the temperance party for the time being. But like the house that

was built on the sand, "the rain came and the wind blew and beat on that

house and great was the fall thereof, because it was built on the sand."

And now those who voted for the Dunkin Bill want to repeal it, seeing

that it not only increases the number of places that sell liquor

privately in the town, but that it deprives the county of a very large

revenue. Notwithstanding that the Dunkin Act was superseded by the

Crooks' Act, and, knowing that it was _ultra vires_, they tried to

enforce it. Several cases of selling liquor contrary to the Dunkin Act

were brought before the magistrates and fines inflicted; at last, seeing

that it was not constitutional, they gave up trying any more. But when a

man is to be hanged there is always a hangman to be found; so it was

with the Dunkin Act, there was one found to try the cases, when almost

invariably fines or imprisonment were inflicted; of the latter several

hotel-keepers had a foretaste.

Knowing that these convictions were bad, they were appealed to a higher

tribunal. There was one thing that we have got cause to be thankful to

the government for, and that is for selecting and appointing just,

learned and impartial judges, who know neither friend nor partisan when

they sit on the tribunal to mete out justice and judgment, according to

the law of the land. When these appeal cases came before the learned and

just Judge of the County of Prince Edward, they were all quashed.

LINES ON PICTON, BAY OF QUINTE.

Fair Picton! what a blissful spot,

Where peace and happiness had been my lot,

But the Dunkin fanatics disturbed my home,

And sent me from you, far to roam.

Where golden corn waves in the breeze,

And sugar flows from maple trees,

And here in winter, on the plains of snow,

Gay dressed parties out a-sleighing go.

With noble churches of much renown,

Thy shady cemetery outside the town,

Where friends do go, when from labour free,

To dress the grave beneath the shady tree.

Where marble monuments lift up from grass,

Which mark the spot to strangers as they pass.

Where noble souls and friends so dear,

Having left this life, are sleeping quietly here.

T. FAUGHNAN.

After I sold out I thought I would not go into hotel business again, but

I found it so dull, I leased the Anglo-American Hotel in Kingston,

which, however I again relinquished in February last, and am now living

in Kingston.

At about 4 p.m. on the 29th May, 1879, His Excellency the Right

Honourable the Marquis of Lorne and his Royal Consort, Princess Louise,

arrived at Kingston, for the purpose of laying the corner-stone of the

Queen's College, having been invited for that purpose by Dr. Grant, the

Principal of the Queen's University.

On arrival, the Royal guests were received by the corporation and other

city dignitaries, professors, and officers of the Royal Military

College. A Royal salute was fired from Fort Henry. After the singing of

"God save the Queen," by over one thousand little school children, the

Mayor read the address of welcome to the Royal guests, which was

graciously responded to by His Excellency in a loud, clear, and distinct

voice. After the address another song was sung by the children, led by

Mr. Rackett, Bandmaster Dominion Artillery, on the cornet; after which a

procession was formed, and the Vice-regal party entered their carriage,

which was drawn by four horses, with postillions. They moved off amid

loud cheering from the people, escorted by a troop of cavalry commanded

by Colonel Duff, with the corporation and members of the different

societies in carriages. Crowds of people lined the streets, who cheered

most heartily, as the Royal visitors proceeded along the route. The

streets were beautifully decorated with splendid arches, appropriate

mottoes, and evergreens. The Princess looked very much pleased, and

bowed most graciously to the delighted crowd. The line of procession was

kept by the 14th P. W. O. Rifles, commanded by Major E. H. Smythe. As

His Excellency and the Princess alighted from their carriage at Mr. Geo.

A. Kirkpatrick's house, where they were guests, the people again cheered

and shouted, when the Princess and Marquis most graciously acknowledged

the salutations. Major and Mrs. De Winton were staying at Mr. Stafford

Kirkpatrick's. The Royal reception passed off to the entire satisfaction

of all concerned, there being nothing to mar the proceedings.

In the evening His Excellency and the Princess held a drawing room in

the City Hall, which was beautifully illuminated and fitted up with

swords and bayonets forming most exquisite designs and mottoes

tastefully arranged by the gunners of "A" Battery Dominion Artillery.

The Cadets from the Royal Military College, commanded by Major Ridout,

and headed by "A" Battery band, formed the guard of honour. About 9.30

His Excellency and Her Royal Highness Princess Louise arrived and were

greeted by a royal salute. Next day at 11.30 a.m., His Excellency and

H.R.H. Princess Louise laid the corner stones on each side of the front

entrance of the Queen's College, and planted two trees, one of maple and

the other of birch, in front of the entrance to the college, after which

the degree of LL.D. was conferred on His Excellency by the Chancellor,

who delivered to him the diploma, which was a beautiful work of art

being engrossed on parchment, in Indian ink and gold, with Royal Arms,

and the crest of the noble House of Argyle within a chaste and elaborate

border of the scenery, views, and buildings of the city.

At 3 p.m. His Excellency, the Princess and suite, accompanied by Mr.

George A. Kirkpatrick, visited the Penitentiary. On arrival there, His

Excellency and Her Royal Highness were received by Mr. Creighton, the

Warden, who conducted the distinguished party through the institution,

which was tastefully decorated with a handsome arch, on the top of which

was a large and tastefully made crown of evergreens, with the Royal Arms

beneath, and a large Union Jack floating from the tower. In the evening

His Excellency and Her Royal Highness attended a concert at the Opera

House. Mr. George A. Kirkpatrick, M.P., and Mrs. James, were honoured

with seats in the Vice-Regal boxes.

On Saturday, His Excellency and Her Royal Highness visited the different

schools and hospitals. In the afternoon they visited the Royal Military

College, where the troops, consisting of the Cadets, "A" Battery,

Dominion Artillery, and the 14th Prince of Wales Own Rifles, commanded

by Colonel Kerr, were formed in line, facing the city, and commanded by

Colonel Hewett, R. E., the commandant. At 3 p.m., His Excellency, the

Princess and suite, accompanied by Sir E. S. Smyth and staff, arrived on

the ground, escorted by a troop of cavalry. They were received with a

Royal salute, after which His Excellency, attended by General E. Smyth,

Colonel Van Straubenzie, Colonel Hewett, Colonel Irwin, Colonel Wolsley

and others of the staff, inspected the troops. The Brigade then marched

past, and afterwards were put through a sham fight, changing front to

the left, Captain W. C. Sand's company of the Rifles covering the

advance in skirmishing order, which Her Royal Highness seemed to enjoy

very much. The review being over, His Excellency, the Princess and

suite, accompanied by Colonel Hewett and other officers, made a tour of

inspection through the College and afterwards Her Royal Highness the

Princess Louise distributed prizes to the Cadets.

On Sunday, the Vice-Regal party attended Divine Service at St. George's

Cathedral. The Service was read by the Very Rev. the Dean of Ontario,

and the Lessons by the Rev. H. Wilson. A most eloquent and impressive

sermon was preached by the Very Rev. the Dean of Ontario, who took his

text from St. John, chap. 12, verse, 32. His Excellency, accompanied by

Mr. George A. Kirkpatrick, M.P., and Captain Harbord, A.D.C., attending

evening service at St. Andrew's Church. The sermon was preached by the

Rev. G. M. Grant, D.D.

On Monday, His Excellency, the Princess and suite, took a trip down the

river, accompanied by Sir Richard Cartwright, Principal, and Mrs. Grant,

Colonel and Mrs. Hewett, Mr. and Mrs. Gun, Colonel Irwin, Colonel

Cotton, Colonel and Mrs. Van Straubenzie, the Misses Montalbert, Mrs.

James, Mr. G. A. Kirkpatrick, M.P., Major Gildersleeve and others. On

arrival at Gananoque, the Field Battery, under the command of Major

Mackenzie, fired a Royal salute. Before the boat left, the Rev. Mr.

George Taylor, Major Mackenzie, Mr D. Ford Jones, M.P., went on board

and were introduced to His Excellency. The return trip was made by the

American Channel, reaching the city about 6 p.m., when they drove to the

residence of Mr. George A. Kirkpatrick, M.P.

The following morning, about 5 o'clock, the Vice-Regal party left

Kingston by the steamer "Spartan," _en route_ for Quebec. On their

departure a Royal salute was fired from Fort Henry. "A" Battery,

Dominion Artillery, under the command of Lieutenant-Colonel Cotton,

furnished a guard of honour. As the steamer moved from the wharf, the

crowd cheered and shouted, to which His Excellency and H.R.H. the

Princess Louise most graciously bowed their acknowledgments, and seemed

delighted with their reception at Kingston.

_Long live His Excellency the Governor-General, and H. R. Highness the

Princess Louise!_

LINES ON THE OCCASION OF THE MARQUIS OF LORNE AND THE PRINCESS LOUISE

VISITING KINGSTON.

Of a Royal Princess we now can boast,

And drink a health and loyal toast

To QUEEN VICTORIA, whom God may spare,

Who honoured Canada with her daughter fair.

From deceitful enemies or their foes,

May God the Royal couple keep in sweet repose;

And let nations see that this fair land,

Can uphold Royalty with heart and hand.

Kingston, fair city of the thousand isles,

Where the noble St. Lawrence so gently smiles;

With its Royal Military College of much renown,

And the grand old buildings of this ancient town.

Though this city much of limestone smells,

There are British hearts that ever swell,

To respond to Royalty and one so fair,

And to the Princess Louise who visited there.

Was e'er such honour paid to Kingston before,

As a Princess and Marquis inside their door?

The honour paid her, was much deserved,

For she stood true and loyal when others swerved.

With the noble Marquis and the fair Louise,

The loyal Kingstonians were much pleased;

At their reception Mayor Gildersleeve did preside,

With the city aldermen on either side.

To give a loyal welcome to those we love so dear,

And show our loyalty in old Kingston here,

For that we Kingstonians all are sworn,

To stand together,—aye, for Lorne!

T. FAUGHNAN.

So now here at the old limestone City of Kingston, I must give my gentle

reader the parting hand of fellowship. We have had a long, and I hope

interesting journey, from my enlistment to my discharge. I trust not an

unprofitable one. We have travelled over the ground of battle-scenes, of

blood, carnage and slaughter; stood on the hoary ruins of palaces and

temples; we have seen Egypt, and that great and terrible desert.

Our time together has passed pleasantly; we part, I trust, mutual

friends, and so ends the story of an old soldier, who only asks your

pardon for the many defects and weakness in his simple narrative, and

who also hopes it may amuse the young and old, and show them that a

steady, sober and well-conducted man will ever get on well and be happy

in the service of Her Most Gracious Majesty: whom that God may long

preserve, is the prayer of her humble and dutiful pensioner.

THOMAS FAUGHNAN.

KINGSTON ONT., July 1, 1879.