On The Opposite Coast Is A Little Cove, In
Which A British Ship Got Ashore, And Was Stripped By The Local Pirates
Of Everything.
Captain Smith took off the crew and reported the piracy;
but nothing seems to have been done.
A British war-ship is never seen
in these distant and desolate northern regions. It may well be that the
sparse population think all the coasts still belong to France, in
addition to the Isles of St. Pierre and Miquelon. This is how our navy
is managed. Can it be true that the Marquis of Lorne recommended that
an ironclad should be sent to Montreal for a season, as an emblem of
British power and sway - and was refused?
After some trouble with fog and wind, preceded by a most remarkable
Aurora Borealis, and some delay at night at Rimouska, we reached
Quebec, and got alongside at Point Levi, on the afternoon of Saturday,
the 11th September; and I had great pleasure in meeting my old friend
Mr. Hickson, who came down to meet Mrs. Hickson and his son and
daughter, fellow-passengers of mine. I also at once recognized Dr.
Rowand, the able medical officer of the Port of Quebec, who I had not
set eyes on for twenty-four years. I stayed the night at Russell's
Hotel; and next day renewed my acquaintance with the city, finding the
"Platform" wonderfully enlarged and improved, the work of Lord
Dufferin, a new and magnificent Courthouse being built, and, above all,
an immense structure of blue-grey stone, intended for the future
Parliament House of the Province of Quebec. The facility of borrowing
money in England on mere provincial, or town, security, appears to be a
Godsend to architects and builders, and to aid and exalt local ambition
for fine, permanent structures. Well, the buildings remain. To find the
grand old fortifications of Quebec in charge of a handful of Canadian
troops, seemed strange. Such fortresses belong to the Empire; and the
Queen's redcoats should hold them all round the world. I was told - I
hope it is not true - that the extensive works above Point Levi,
opposite Quebec, constructed by British military labour, are
practically abandoned to decay and weeds.
CHAPTER III.
To the Pacific - Montreal to Port Moody.
On the evening of the 12th September I left Quebec by the train for
Montreal, and travelled over the "North Shore" line of 200 miles. One
of the secretaries of the Vice-President of the Canadian Pacific, Mr.
Van Horn, called upon me to say that accommodation was reserved for me
in the train; and that Mr. Van Horn was sending down his own car, which
would meet me half way. It was no use protesting against the non-
necessity of such luxurious treatment. I was further asked, if I had
"got transportion?" which puzzled me. But I found, being interpreted,
the question was modern American for "Have you got your through
ticket?" I replied, that I had paid my fare right through from
Liverpool to Vancouver's Island - as every mere traveller for his own
pleasure ought to do; and I was remonstrated with for so unkind a
proceeding, as the fact of my having been President of the Grand Trunk
was of itself a passport all over Canada.
At Three Rivers, about half way, while reading by very good light - good
lamp, excellent oil, very good trimming - there was some shunting of the
train, and the usual "bang" of the attachment of a carriage. A moment
afterwards Mr. Van Horn's car steward entered, and asked if I was Sir
Edward Watkin; and he guessed I must come into Mr. Van Horn's car, sent
specially down for me. Where was my baggage? I need not say that I was
soon removed from the little, beautifully-fitted, drawing-room into
this magnificent car. In passing through, I heard some growls, in
French, about stopping the train, and sending a car for one "Anglais."
So, on being settled in the new premises, I sent my compliments,
stating that I only required one seat, and that I was certain that the
car was intended for the general convenience, and would they do me the
favour to finish their journey in it? I received very polite replies,
stating that every one was very comfortable where he was. One
Englishman, however, came in to make my acquaintance, but left me soon.
I now became acquainted with Mr. Van Horn's car steward - James French,
or, as his admirers call him, "Jim" - and I certainly wish to express my
gratitude to him for his intelligence, thoughtfulness, admirable
cookery, and general good nature. He took me, a few days later, right
across to the Pacific in this same car, which certainly was a complete
house on wheels - bedroom, "parlour, kitchen and all." His first
practical suggestion was, would I take a little of Mr. Van Horn's "old
Bourbon" whisky? It was "very fine, first rate." On my assenting, he
asked would I take it "straight," as Mr. Van Horn did, or would I have
a little seltzer water? I elected the latter, at the same time
observing, that when I neared the Rocky Mountains perhaps I should have
improved my ways so much that I could take it "straight" also.
At Montreal, my old friend and aforetime collaborateur, Mr. Joseph
Hickson, met me and took me home with him; and in his house, under the
kind and generous care of Mrs. Hickson, I spent three delightful days,
and renewed acquaintance with many old friends of times long passed. It
was on the 28th December, 1861, that Mr. Hickson first went to Canada
in the Cunard steamer "Canada" from Liverpool. He was accompanied by
Mr. Watkin, our only son, a youth of 15, anxious to see the bigger
England. Mr. Watkin afterwards entered the service (Grand Trunk), in
the locomotive department, at Montreal, and deservedly gained the
respect of his superior officer, who had to delegate to Mr. Watkin,
then under 18, the charge of a thousand men.
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