The soil was the rich red of Devonshire,
the trees were of a brilliant green, and sylvan lawns ran up amongst them.
The light canoes of the aborigines glided gracefully on the water, or lay
high and dry on the beach; and two or three miles ahead the spires and
houses of the capital of the island lent additional cheerfulness to the
prospect.
We were speedily moored at the wharf, and my cousins, after an absence of
eight years, were anxiously looking round for some familiar faces among
the throng on the shore. They had purposely avoided giving any intimation
to their parents of their intended arrival, lest anything should occur to
prevent the visit; therefore they were entirely unexpected. But, led by
the true instinct of natural affection, they were speedily recognised by
those of their relatives who were on the wharf, and many a joyful meeting
followed which must amply have compensated for the dreary separation of
years.
It was in an old-English looking, red brick mansion, encircled by
plantations of thriving firs - warmly welcomed by relations whom I had
never seen, for the sake of those who had been my long-tried friends -
surrounded by hearts rejoicing in the blessings of unexpected re-union,
and by faces radiant with affection and happiness - that I spent my first
evening in the "Garden of British America."
CHAPTER III.
Popular ignorance - The garden island - Summer and winter contrasted - A
wooden capital - Island politics, and their consequences - Gossip - "Blowin-
time" - Religion and the clergy - The servant nuisance - Colonial society - An
evening party - An island premier - Agrarian outrage - A visit to the
Indians - The pipe of peace - An Indian coquette - Country hospitality - A
missionary - A novel mode of lobster-fishing - Uncivilised life - Far away in
the woods - Starvation and dishonesty - An old Highlander and a Highland
welcome - Hopes for the future.
I was showing a collection of autographs to a gentleman at a party in a
well-known Canadian city, when the volume opened upon the majestic
signature of Cromwell. I paused as I pointed to it, expecting a burst of
enthusiasm. "Who is Cromwell?" he asked; an ignorance which I should
have believed counterfeit had it not been too painfully and obviously
genuine.
A yeoman friend in England, on being told that I had arrived safely at
Boston, after encountering great danger in a gale, "reckoned that it was
somewhere down in Lincolnshire."
With these instances of ignorance, and many more which I could name, fresh
in my recollection, I am not at all surprised that few persons should be
acquainted with the locality of a spot of earth so comparatively obscure
as Prince Edward Island. When I named my destination to my friends prior
to my departure from England, it was supposed by some that I was going to
the Pacific, and by others that I was going to the north-west coast of
America, while one or two, on consulting their maps, found no such island
indicated in the part of the ocean where I described it to be placed.
Now, Prince Edward Island is the abode of seventy thousand human beings.
It had a garrison, though now the loyalty of its inhabitants is
considered a sufficient protection. It has a Governor, a House of
Assembly, a Legislative Council, and a Constitution. It has a wooden
Government House, and a stone Province Building. It has a town of six
thousand people, and an extensive shipbuilding trade, and, lastly, it has
a prime minister. As it has not been tourist-ridden, like Canada or the
States, and is a terra incognita to many who are tolerably familiar with
the rest of our North American possessions, I must briefly describe it,
though I am neither writing a guide-book nor an emigrant's directory.
This island was discovered by Sebastian Cabot in 1497, and more than two
centuries afterwards received the name of St. John, by which it is still
designated in old maps. It received the name of Prince Edward Island in
compliment to the illustrious father of our Queen, who bestowed great
attention upon it. It has been the arena of numerous conflicts during the
endless wars between the French and English. Its aboriginal inhabitants
have here, as in other places, melted away before the whites. About three
hundred remain, earning a scanty living by shooting and fishing, and
profess the Romish faith.
This island is 140 miles in length, and at its widest part 34 in breadth.
It is intersected by creeks; every part of its coast is indented by the
fierce flood of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and no part of it is more than
nine miles distant from some arm of the sea. It bears the name throughout
the British provinces of the "Garden of British America." That this title
has been justly bestowed, none who have ever visited it in summer will
deny.
While Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and the banks of the St. Lawrence are
brown, even where most fertile, this island is clothed in brilliant green.
I suppose that the most elevated land in it is less than 400 feet above
the level of the sea; there is not a rock in any part of it, and the
stones which may be very occasionally picked up in the recesses of the
forest cause much speculation in the minds of the curious and scientific.
The features of this country are as soft as the soil. The land is
everywhere gently undulating, and, while anything like a hill is unknown,
it has been difficult to find a piece of ground sufficiently level for a
cricket-field.
