CHAPTER XVII.

 CHAPTER XVII.  A DOUBLE TRAGEDY. 1819. Hull was en fête. There was not a mill, shop, or dwelling but had its display of bunting and evergreens, for the new Governor-General and Commander-in-Chief of Canada, Charles, fourth Duke of Richmond, Lennox and Aubigny, had sent a courier through the woods from Richmond to inform the Chief of his intention of spending an afternoon and night in Hull, before embarking on the steamer for Montreal. The announcement had thrown the whole population into a state of great excitement, for there were not many places in the backwoods settlement in which a duke could reasonably expect hospitality. It therefore fell to Mr. Wright's lot to have the honor of entertaining His Grace, and great and costly had been the preparations. An hour before the time appointed for meeting him, a flotilla of bark canoes, with gay pennants floating in the breeze, drew up before the Richmond Landing to await his arrival. They waited and waited, but he came not. "Is he a Scotchman or an Irishman?" asked one. "He is a Scotchman by birth and an Irishman by nature, I believe," replied the Chief. "He has the frank, benevolent, open-hearted manner so characteristic of the Irish, is a lover of fast men and fast horses, and enjoys a midnight carouse occasionally." "Whatever induced him to take such a trip at this time of the year? Why did he not come up the Rideau in a canoe instead of walking overland from Kingston?" asked another. "Surely he was not after big game at this time of the year," said Caleb Bellows, who kept a small shop at the Landing. "He could have chosen a much more pleasant route and a more pleasant time of the year, when there were fewer mosquitoes and less heat, if it was a pleasure trip he wanted," said Bearie. "I guess he reckoned on makin' a pilgrimage on foot to the Holy City of Richmond to atone for his sins, for I hear he's no saint," ventured Billy Snickel, who presented a grotesque appearance in his grandfather's velvet coat, knee-breeches and silk hat. Billy never was prepossessing in appearance, even when dressed in velvet. His face had numerous creases and puckers, and resembled in color the foot of a goose, which indicated defective secretion on the part of the liver, and which was probably caused by excessive use of gin and tobacco. The hairs of his head were very coarse and wiry, and stood on end quite independently of each other, which gave him much the appearance of a porcupine. "The Holy City of Richmond," as Snickel called it, was a settlement which had sprung up on the River Jock, about ten miles distant, a year previously. The settlers were all officers and soldiers of the 99th and 100th regiments, who had received grants of land from the Government, and who had decided to call the settlement Richmond, in honor of the new Governor, who, on his arrival at Quebec on H.M.S. Iphigenia, ordered a Royal salute to be fired from the Citadel guns as they left for their new home in the wilderness. They landed at a point south of the Chaudiere Island, where the women and children remained until the men cut a road through the woods to their grants, where they proceeded to erect temporary dwelling-places. Their landing-place at the beginning of the Richmond Road was known as Richmond Landing, and it was there that they had all gathered to await the coming of the Duke. "It is whispered in political circles," said one, "that the Duke of Wellington—realizing the blundering policy of his predecessors, thirty-seven years ago, in submitting without a word to our friends over the border taking so large a stretch of the south shore of the St. Lawrence within their boundaries—has decided to establish a new route to the West, in order to avoid the possibility of the only means of communication between Montreal and Upper Canada being cut off in case of any further trouble that might arise. It would not be surprising if the new Governor had an idea of recommending to the Iron Duke the old Iroquois route from the St. Lawrence, near Kingston, to the Grand River, by way of the Rideau River and lakes. The whole route could be made navigable by means of a series of canals." "Why was it called the Iroquois route?" interrupted a lean, lanky individual, with hands thrust deep into his pockets, who shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Because the Iroquois found it much shorter and more direct in coming from New York State on their incursions into the Algonquin country," replied the Chief. "But why, why does not the Governor come?" he continued, consulting his watch for the forty-second time. "It is now three o'clock, and he said he would be here about ten." "How are our military friends getting on," asked Captain Le Breton, who had a small farm in the neighborhood of the Landing. "Shure, it was bad luck to thim," interrupted a ruddy, good-natured-looking Irishman. "Before some of thim military gintlemen could get a house built, the weather got so cold that no wonder two of the children died." The speaker was a young man named Nicholas Sparks, who with two of his friends, named Daniel Byrne and Thomas Bedard, had been engaged by Rug as farm laborers at Quebec, in September, 1816; his friends having deserted at Montreal. Sparks was still in the employ of the Chief, and though illiterate, possessed great common sense, rare practical cleverness, boundless energy, and was respected by all who knew him. "I went out to see Captain Monk recently," replied the Chief, "and found that they have secured grants of land ranging from one hundred to one thousand acres, and as no survey had ever been made of the township, they chose their sites and commenced building. The Government recently made a survey, and the Monks discovered that they had built on Lieutenant Read's land, so they are going to build a larger and more comfortable house at Point Pleasant next summer. Captain Weatherby built his house on Captain Street's land, and as Captain Street had a house of his own, they decided to convert it into a church, where they all meet on Sunday mornings, and one of them reads prayers. Mrs. Monk, who spent several weeks with us while her husband and his soldier servants constructed their first house in the woods, which they called 'Mosquito Cove,' made light of the inconveniences and experiences of pioneer life, and laughingly pointed to a large tin tray which, she said, had served as a shelter for the baby in its cradle. 'It gave me a great sense of satisfaction last fall,' she said, 'to hear the tinkle, tinkle of the raindrops, and to feel that baby at least was cosy and dry, for our roof is not altogether rainproof.' She referred also to the flutter of excitement among the neighbors caused by the loss of the only darning-needle in the settlement. The whole feminine population turned out to search for it. It was much in demand, and went a continual round of visits from house to house. Fortunately it was found, and they all adjourned to the house of Mrs. Pinhey to express their rejoicings over a cup of tea. "They are making extensive plans for the future. Streets are being surveyed, and building lots laid out. They will have a park of six acres, and are reserving large grants for ecclesiastical purposes."* * Previous to the construction of the locks, it seemed as though Richmond was destined to become an important city at an early date, but the public works offered so many inducements for men to come to Bytown that it dwindled down to a mere village. Soon the clatter of horses' hoofs was heard, and a man in military trousers and homespun shirt galloped down to where they had gathered, with the startling announcement: "The Duke is dead! He was playing with a tame fox which, unknown to us all, had gone mad," the courier continued. "It bit him. He was in a fearfully nervous condition all night, but decided to come on. He got into a boat to come down to Chapman's, where your waggon was waiting for him, sir," he said, turning to the Chief, "but when we were about five miles from Richmond he leaped out of it and rushed wildly through the woods, and they found him in Chapman's barn in a fit. Dr. Collis bled him, but he died before anything more could be done. We laid the body in the waggon and covered it with a sheet, and the officers and soldiers formed themselves into a guard, and will soon be here." The awe and consternation on every face was indescribable, and when at last the solemn cortege came in sight they all, with bared heads, gathered round the waggon to look upon the lifeless form, clad in the uniform of a British general. The Duke's two attendants, who had followed him all the way, were too overcome with grief to be able to give an intelligent account of the tragedy. "The steamer is in," said the Chief. "One of you had better cross over at once and tell Captain Stewart to lose no time in getting up steam. And you, Rug," he said, "had better relieve the suspense at home. Tell them that I shall see the body safely to Montreal. Any of you," he continued, addressing the crowd, "who wish to pay your last respects to the Commander-in-Chief should come with us." In less than two hours the body was conveyed to the little steamer on a rude stretcher, and they were soon en route for Montreal. In the meantime Rug had reached home and found them all in tears. Chrissy was wringing her hands in anguish of spirit. "O Rug! Rug!" she said, "have you heard the sad news?" "Yes," he replied; "but how could you have heard it so soon?" "Mike brought it from the farm," she said. "And how could Mike have known about it?" he asked. Chrissy could not answer. She had lost all control of her feelings. "I don't see why you should make such a fuss about it," he said; "he was no relation of yours—you never even saw him." A strange, questioning look came into the sister's face as she struggled to suppress her emotions. "Why do you speak in such a strange way—have you been drinking, Rug?" she said. "Drinking!" he exclaimed, disdainfully, "did you ever see me drunk? This is no time for drinking. Where's mother?" "She went to comfort poor Sarah as soon as she heard of the accident," replied Chrissy. "And why should Sarah feel so badly about it, pray? Women are the strangest mortals I ever met. Hannah is the only sensible one among them." He threw himself on a couch and began to survey the decorations in the room, which were as pretty as womanly taste could make them. "Come now, Chrissy, dry your tears and get me something to eat like a dear girl—do—for I am awfully hungry." "Could you not wait a little longer? The Duke may be here at any time, and you will have no appetite left for the good dinner that I fear will be spoiled if he does not come soon." "What are you talking about, Chrissy?" said Rug. "Did you not hear that the Duke is dead?" "No," she replied. "And did you not hear that Phil was killed yesterday?" her voice almost incoherent with sobs. "What!" he cried, "Phil—dead? Is it possible? Is it possible? How did it happen?" "Mike said that he decided to return from Montreal by stage, and that the horses baulked on a dangerous hill near the Rouge. The stage was overturned and he was thrown out violently and his neck was broken. His wife knew nothing of it until they carried his body in." Rug tried to catch the steamer that he might break the news to his father, but was too late; he had left with the remains of the Duke, and heard nothing of the accident until his return.