Whatever the limitations on the seigneur's authority he had the undoubted right of control over fishing in rivers and lakes until the adjacent lands were conceded to occupiers. It was important, therefore, not to grant lands which carried with them the best fishing and Nairne's ardent friend Gilchrist kept exhorting him from Scotland on this point. "There is no place ... I would so willingly and happily pass life in," he wrote, in 1775, "as in your Neighbourhood and often have I been seized with the memory of your easy and uncontrolled way of rising, lying, dancing, drinking, &c., at your habitation.... One hope ... I wish to be well founded and that is that your Stewart, Factor or Attorney, has not conceded any lands with the River in front from the Rapides du Vieux Moulin. If otherwise, you have lost more than the profits [which] all above Brassar's will yield in our lifetime. The fishing in that part of the River is alone worth crossing the Atlantic."

Over trade Nairne and Fraser tried to exercise some real control. Their grants gave them no right to trade with the Indians and in reality no authority over trade. But they were guardians of the law and took steps to check traders from violating it. One Brassard, who lived up the Murray River, seems to have been a frequent offender. It was easy to debauch the Indians with drink and then to get their furs for very little and the seigneurs needed always to be alert. In 1778 we find Malcolm Fraser making with one Hugh Blackburn a bargain which outlines what the seigneurs tried to do in regard to trade. Blackburn binds himself in the sum of L200 to obey certain restrictions: he will not attempt to debauch the Indians belonging to the King's Posts; in no circumstances will he sell them liquor; nor will he sell liquor on credit to anyone. He will obey the lawful orders of Nairne and Fraser relative to the carrying on of his trade; he will pay his debts, and will make others pay what they owe him, refusing them credit if accounts are not paid within six months. In consideration of these pledges by Blackburn Fraser guarantees his credit with the Quebec merchants. The difficulty in regard to trade with the Indians settled itself by the tragic remedy of their gradual extinction. In 1800 Nairne says that the Micmacs, once a great nuisance, are now rarely seen.

Nairne was a good farmer and his letters contain many references to farming operations. At Murray Bay, he says, plowing goes on for seven months in the year, from the middle of April to the middle of November. But the Canadians do not plough well; they do not understand how to preserve the crops when cut; and, on the whole, are backward in agriculture. He himself preserved for a domain more land than he could ever get cleared, for this clearing was heavy work. Some of the soil at Murray Bay is very good. Gilchrist writes indeed to say that he has been talking in Scotland about Nairne's land. "On my mentioning that you had lime, without digging for it, it was acknowledged that you possessed all the advantages possible and that anything might be done with ground such as yours which is dry; and I verily believe would you thoroughly lime your land you may keep it in crops as long as you please and have prodigious returns." Good farming, he says, Nairne may have and he should preserve good fishing; then Murray Bay will be perfect. "If I have the pleasure of seeing your sisters, I'll represent Mal Bay as the counterpart of Paradise before the fall." He adds some local characterizations. "Catish will do for Eve, La Grange for Adam, and Dufour for the Devil."

Nairne was married in 1766 to Christiana Emery. Of her history I know nothing, except that she was born in Edinburgh and married in Canada. Soon after marriage Nairne paid a long visit to Scotland and there in 1767 the freedom of the borough of Sterling was conferred upon him. Mrs. Nairne must have been considerably younger than her husband, for though he lived to ripe old age, she survived him by twenty-six years, dying at Murray Bay in 1828. Whether she brought any dowry I do not know; Nairne certainly had had in mind the improvement of his position by marrying. Nine children were born to them but three died in childhood of an epidemic fever that broke out at Murray Bay in 1773 while Nairne was in Scotland. A fourth child, Anne, died of consumption. Five children lived to grow up—three daughters and two sons.

Canada seemed so remote that it was not easy for Nairne to keep in touch with his kin. The scattering of families, one of the penalties Imperial Britain, with a world wide domain, imposes upon her sons, had taken Nairne's brother Robert to India. At a time only ten years later than Clive's great victory of Plassey, Britain's grasp on the country was, as yet, by no means certain and India was amazingly remote; five years usually elapsed between the sending of a letter to India from Canada and the receipt of a reply! On January 5th, 1770, Robert Nairne writes from Marlborough, India, acknowledging a letter from his brother John, only recently received, dated April 21, 1767. The brothers discuss family news and family plans, their old father's health, the desirability of settling down at home in Scotland, the life each is living, remote from that home. Though an officer, Robert engaged in trade and made some money. "The Company's pay is hardly subsistence," he says, "and here we have not, as on t'other side of India the spoils of plundered provinces to grow fat on. I keep my health very well and if I want the satisfaction, I am also free from many Anxietys, people are subject to who are more in the glare of life." He was in a retired place, where there were few people and perennial summer, with "no variety of seasons nor of anything else." Time passes insensibly, he says; "in India years are like months in Europe ... I write, read, walk and go in company the same round nearly throughout the year. Here we have little company; yet everyone wants to go to out settlements where they are quite alone. I cannot account for it. Mal Bay is your out settlement. Do you like that as well as Quebec?"

Robert Nairne was something of a philosopher. "Have you ever so much philosophy," he writes to the seigneur of Murray Bay in 1767, "as to think everything that happens is for the best? I am so far of that mind that content and discontent I think arises [sic] rather from the cast of our own thoughts than from outward accidents and that there is nearly an equal distribution of the means of happiness to all men, and that they are the happiest that improve their means the most." He felt the weariness of exile, the Scot's longing for his own land. "Certainly to a person of a right tone of mind if there are enjoyments in life, it must be in our own country amongst our friends and relations. With such conditions the bare necessaries of life are better than riches without them.... Death is but a limited absence and you and I are much in that state with regard to our friends at home."

It was not long before Robert Nairne's letters ceased altogether. In 1776, John Nairne received at Murray Bay the sad news that, in November or December, 1774, his brother had been killed in a petty expedition against some local tribesmen. A native chieftain had murdered, cooked and eaten a rival who was friendly to the East India Company and Robert Nairne with some natives, and only three Europeans, went up country, through woods and bogs, to seize the offender. When there was fighting his natives fled, and he was shot through the body. It was a pity, says John Nairne's correspondent, Hepburn, to lose his life "in so silly a manner." He would soon have been governor of Bencoolen and was in a way to make "a great figure in life." Of his fortune of L6,000 John Nairne received a part. Twenty-five years after his brother's death Nairne was to get at Murray Bay similar news of the loss of his own son in distant India. It has levied a heavy tribute of Britain's best blood.

In 1774 Nairne again revisited Scotland. Though no politician, he must have heard much about the Quebec Act, then before the Imperial Parliament. The Governor of Canada, Sir Guy Carleton, after careful consideration of the whole question, had reached the conclusion, not belied by subsequent history, as far as the Province of Quebec is concerned, that Canada would always be French and that, with some slight modifications, the French system found there by Britain should be given final and legal status under British supremacy. So the Quebec Act was passed in 1774. While the British criminal law was introduced, the French civil law, including the land system under which Nairne held Murray Bay, was left unchanged. The Bill gave the Church the same privileged position that it had enjoyed under Catholic sovereigns. The tithe could be collected by legal process; taxation for church purposes voted by the parochial authority called the fabrique was as compulsory as civil taxes, unless the person taxed declared that he was not a Roman Catholic; and the whole ecclesiastical system of New France was supported and encouraged. The Bill caused much irritation in Protestant New England, which saw some malicious design in the establishment of Roman Catholicism on its borders. The Continental Congress of 1775 denounced the Quebec Act, and even the Declaration of Independence has something to say about it.

It is obvious that Nairne disliked the Bill. His irrepressible friend, Gilchrist, wrote giving a picture of its probable dire social results, upsetting all domestic relations between the two races. The Bill, says Gilchrist, "is the most pernicious [that] could have been devised. Judge of the Fetes now that the fools have got the sanction of the British Parliament to their beggaring principles. It is not clear that your Protestant servants will [even] be allowed to work upon their [the Roman Catholic] idle days. What would you and I think on being told by these black rascals [the priests are meant of course] that our people, I mean Protestants, durst not obey our orders without a dispensation from them?"

The social consequences of the Quebec Act did not prove as revolutionary as Nairne's animated correspondent feared. Less than is usually supposed did the habitant like it since it placed him again under the priest's and the seigneur's authority, suspended since the British conquest. To the English colonies it added one to other causes of friction that boded trouble to the British Empire. In the previous year the people of Boston had defied Britain, by throwing into their harbour cargoes of tea upon which the owners proposed to pay a hated duty, levied by outside authority. The Quebec Act brought a final rupture a step nearer and at last there was open war. "The colonists have brought things to a crisis now, indeed;" wrote Gilchrist; "the consequences must be dreadful to them soon and I am afraid in the end to our country." To Great Britain indeed disastrous they were to be and soon the seigneur of Murray Bay was busy with his share in preparing for the conflict.

[Footnote 7: The Lake is no doubt Lake Nairne, the present Grand Lac.]



CHAPTER IV

JOHN NAIRNE IN THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION

Nairne's work among the French Canadians.—He becomes Major of the Royal Highland Emigrants.—Arnold's march through the wilderness to Quebec.—Quebec during the Siege, 1775-76.—The habitants and the Americans.—Montgomery's plans.—The assault on December 31st, 1775.—Malcolm Fraser gives the alarm in Quebec.—Montgomery's death.—Arnold's attack.—Nairne's heroism.—Arnold's failure.—The American fire-ship.—The arrival of a British fleet.—The retreat of the Americans.—Nairne's later service in the War.—Isle aux Noix and Carleton Island.—Sir John Johnson and the desolation of New York.—Nairne and the American prisoners at Murray Bay.—Their escape and capture.—Nairne and the Loyalists.—The end of the War.—Nairne's retirement to Murray Bay.

When war with the revolted colonies grew imminent, it was obvious that a man of Nairne's experience in military matters would soon be needed. One aim of the government was to keep the French Canadians quiet by disarming their prejudices and impressing upon them their duty to George III. From Quebec, on July 13th, 1775, Nairne was given instructions to undertake this work for his district. Self-control and cool persuasiveness fitted him for his task, he was told; his work would be to visit all the parishes on the north shore, with the aim of winning the loyal support of the French Canadians during the coming struggle. Though fifteen years of tranquility under the mild British sway had made the habitants prosperous and averse to war, it was still possible to get from them useful military service, under the leadership of British officers. Nairne was to tell them that the Americans would borrow their dollars, take their provisions, pay for them only in worthless letters of credit upon the Congress, and even make free with their lands. He was to show, also, how bitterly the Protestant English colonies hated the Roman Catholic faith of the Canadians. A British fleet, he was to add, would soon arrive and, if the Canadians joined the revolt, the second British conquest would be shorter and not quite so gentle as the first; for "a fair and open enemy is a different thing from a rebel and a traitor."

Fifteen years earlier the Canadians had borne a heavy part in defending their country against the British assailant; now they were to fight in his interests. Whenever possible Nairne was to employ the same old Captains of militia who had fought the battles of France against the British; he was to make a roll of those fit to bear arms, and to report the number of discharged soldiers in his district. To him were entrusted commissions for Captains whom he might select; the inferior officers he might also name. The Church aided his work as much as possible, the Vicar-General sending to the priests instructions to this effect.

On taking up his task Nairne found that at Murray Bay there were thirty-two men between the ages of 16 and 55. When summoned to meet him they were respectful, but showed fear of having to serve in the army and pleaded that they were only a new settlement. Had there been, as is so generally supposed, many disbanded soldiers among them we should have had a different tale but, already, in 1775, most of the people at Murray Bay were French. Neither they nor their neighbours showed any zeal for the upholding of British rule in Canada. At Les Eboulements and Baie St. Paul, whither Nairne went, the inhabitants were respectful, as at Murray Bay, but also objected to military service. At Isle aux Coudres they disregarded Nairne's summons to meet him, while at St. Anne de Beaupre they made open manifestations of hostility.

In the actual fighting, now imminent, Nairne was eager to take part, and, on August 12th, he wrote to Sir Guy Carleton offering himself for any service and applying for a vacant captaincy. On the 9th of September he received an urgent summons to Quebec, and, from that time, for six or seven years, he was engaged in the great fratricidal struggle.

Again, in a time of crisis, Great Britain made special use of the Highlanders. Many of those who had served during the conquest of Canada had become settlers in the New World. Now at the call to arms some of them—between one and two hundred—rallied again to fight Britain's battles. They were formed into a regiment known as the Royal Highland Emigrants. It was not a regular corps but was organized for this special campaign only. Nairne's rank in the regular army was that of Captain; now he was given the duty of Major, though this promotion was not yet permanent. Malcolm Fraser served in the same corps as Captain and Paymaster. The commanding officer, Colonel Allan McLean, was brave and indefatigable and he and his Highlanders played a creditable part in the work of saving Canada for Britain.

When the American colonies saw that the war was inevitable they saw too that Quebec was the key of the situation. Washington himself declared that in favour of the holders of Quebec would the balance turn in the great conflict. From the outset there was an eager desire to attack the Canadian capital. Washington believed—with some truth, indeed,—that its defences were ridiculous. He thought, too, that the Governor, Sir Guy Carleton, had no money to buy even provisions, that the Canadians were eager to throw off the yoke of Great Britain and to co-operate with the revolted colonies, and that some even of the few regulars to be found in Quebec would join the colonial army. To take Quebec seemed, therefore, comparatively easy, and the task was undertaken by a man with a sinister name for posterity as a traitor to the young republic, but a vigorous and able officer,—Colonel Benedict Arnold. Wolfe's role Arnold essayed to play and Wolfe's fame he fondly hoped would be his.

A fundamental difference existed, however, between Arnold's task and that of Wolfe. Wolfe's army had been carried to Quebec in ships; Arnold's was to advance by land. He chose the shortest route to Quebec from the New England seaboard. It lay through the untrodden wilderness and its difficulties were terrible. Half of it was up the Kennebec river along whose shallow upper reaches the men would have to drag their boats on chill autumn days in water sometimes to their waists; then they must take them over the steep watershed dividing the waters flowing northward to the St. Lawrence from those flowing southward to the Atlantic. Even when they embarked on the upper waters of the Chaudiere, which flows into the St. Lawrence near Quebec, the hardships were killing. The numerous rapids and falls on that swift and turbulent river would wreck their boats. At the time no fleet defended Quebec. If, instead of advancing by this land route, the Americans had been able to bring, by sea, an adequate force as Wolfe had done, the later history of Canada might indeed have been different.

Arnold set out in the middle of September with 1100 or 1200 men,—"the very flower of the colonial youth" they have been called. Many were hardy frontier men trained in Indian wars, who knew well the difficulties of the wilderness. But now they were face to face with something more difficult than they had ever before encountered. When one Parson Emerson had committed the enterprise to the divine care in a prayer that, tradition says, lasted for one hour and three-quarters, the army began its struggle across the dreadful three hundred miles of forest. The swollen rivers swept away much ammunition and food, until upon the army settled down the horror of starvation. The boats proved to be badly built; their crews were always wet and shivering. At night the men had sometimes to gather on a narrow footing of dry land in the midst of a swamp and huddled over a fire that at any moment rain might extinguish. The cold became terrible. Many lay down by the trail to die. When the journey was half over, Colonel Enos, deeming it useless to lead the force farther amid such conditions, turned back. With him went some hundreds of men; but Arnold held on grimly. He pushed ahead to get succour for his starving force from the Canadian settlements near Quebec. With a few boats and canoes his party committed themselves to the Chaudiere river. In two hours Arnold was swept down twenty miles, steering as best he could through the rapids, and avoiding the rocks, in the angry river. At one place all his boats and canoes were carried over a fall and capsized, the occupants struggling to land. But this reckless courage did wonders. By October 30th, after more than a month of unspeakable hardship, Arnold had reached the borderland of civilization in Canada, and was sending back provisions to his men. It is little short of marvellous that at Point Levi on November 9th he could muster six hundred men, five hundred of whom were fit for duty.

The Canadians and Indians had been very friendly; without their aid the greater part of Arnold's force would have perished. Even before Quebec he was dependent on their kindly offices. Its defenders, among whom were Nairne and Fraser, moved every boat to the north side of the St. Lawrence; the frigate Lizard and the sloop-of-war Hunter, pigmy representatives at Quebec of Britain's might upon the sea, lay near Wolfe's Cove ready to attack him if he tried to cross. But the Indians brought canoes and on the night of November 13th, silently and unobserved, they carried Arnold's force across the river almost under the bows of the ships watching for them. The Americans landed where Wolfe had landed sixteen years earlier. On the morning of the 14th, to the surprise of Quebec's garrison, a body of Americans appeared on the Plains of Abraham, not eight hundred yards from the walls, and gave three loud huzzas. The British answered with three cheers and with the more effective retort of cannon, loaded with grape and canister shot, and the hardy pioneers of Arnold's attacking force retired.

Quebec was not in a happy situation. Montreal had already fallen to the Americans advancing by Lake Champlain, and to force the final surrender of Canada General Montgomery was hurrying to join Arnold at Quebec. For a time its defenders were uncertain whether Carleton himself, absent at Montreal, had not fallen into the hands of the enemy. A miraculous escape he indeed had. Leaving Montreal on a dark night, when the Americans were already within the town, Carleton went in a skiff down the river, both shores of which were already occupied by the enemy for fifty miles below Montreal. At the narrows at Berthier their blazing camp fires sent light far out over the surface of the water. Carleton's party could hear the sentry's shout of "All's Well," and the barking of dogs. But they let the boat float down with the current so that it might look like drifting timber, and, when they could, impelled it silently with their hands. At Three Rivers they thought themselves safe and Carleton lay down in a house to sleep. But, while he was resting, some American soldiers entered the house. His disguise as a peasant saved him; he passed out unchecked. The skiff soon carried him to an armed brig, the Fell, which lay at the foot of the Richelieu Rapids. He hastened on to Quebec, which showed joy unspeakable when he arrived on November 19th. Meanwhile Montgomery pursued his rival down the river and on December 1st he joined Arnold before Quebec.

Now the siege began in earnest. Carleton had 1800 men; Arnold and Montgomery can hardly have had more than a thousand, and these were badly equipped. For the Americans the prospects of success were, at no time, very great, unless they could secure help from the Canadians. This, indeed, was not wholly wanting. Montgomery's march along the north shore of the St. Lawrence to Quebec was a veritable triumph. He promised to the habitants liberty, freedom from heavy taxes, the abolition of the seigneurs' rights and other good things. Some of the Canadians hoped that, in joining the Americans, they were hastening the restoration of France's power in Canada—an argument however of little weight with many, who remembered grim days of hard service and starvation when, without appreciation or reward, they had fought France's battle. The habitants were, in truth, friendly enough to the Americans; but they would not fight for them. The invaders tried to arouse the fear of the peasantry by a tale that when the British caught sixty rebel Canadians, they had hanged them over the ramparts of Quebec, without time even to say "Lord, have mercy upon me," and had thrown their bodies to the dogs. But this only made the habitants think it as well perhaps not to take arms openly against such stern masters. The Church's weight was wholly on the British side. Canadians who joined the rebel Americans died without her last rites. Only one priest, M. de Lotbiniere, a man, it is said, of profligate character, espoused the cause of the invaders. For doing so he was promised a bishopric: to see Puritan New Englanders offering a bishopric in the Roman Catholic Church as a reward for service, is not without its humour.

As December wore on Montgomery grew eager to seize his prey. Carleton sat unmoved behind his walls and allowed the enemy to invest the town. He would hold no communication with the rebel army. When Montgomery sent messengers to the gates, under a flag of truce, Carleton would not receive them; the only message he would take, he said, would be an appeal to the mercy of the King, against whom they were in rebellion. Montgomery, too, showed for his foe lofty scorn, in words at least. On December 15th in General Orders he spoke of "the wretched garrison" posted behind the walls of Quebec, "consisting of sailors unacquainted with the use of arms, of citizens incapable of the soldier's duty and [a gibe at the corps in which Nairne served] a few miserable emigrants." He went on to promise his troops that when they took Quebec "the effects of the Governor, garrison, and of such as have been active in misleading the inhabitants and distressing the friends of liberty" should be equally divided among the victors. The opposing sides showed, in truth, the bitterness and exasperation of family quarrels and abandoned the usual courtesies of war. The Americans lay in wait to shoot sentries; they fired on single persons walking on the ramparts. It was reported to the British that Montgomery had said "he would dine in Quebec or in Hell on Christmas"—gossip probably untrue, as a British diarist of the time is fair enough to note, since it is not in accord with the dignity and sobriety of Montgomery's character.

He did what he could to make possible this Christmas festivity within Quebec's walls. His men got together some five hundred scaling ladders. Then heavy snow came and the defenders jeered at such preparations: "Can they think it possible that they can approach the walls laden with ladders, sinking to the middle every step in snow? Where shall we be then? Shall we be looking on cross-armed?" The clear and inconceivably cold weather was also one of Quebec's defences for, as one diarist puts it, no man, after being exposed to it for ten minutes, could hold arms in his half-frozen hands firmly enough to do any execution. But by nothing short of death itself was Montgomery to be daunted; steadily he made his plans to assault the town.

Meanwhile Quebec was ready. Carleton ordered out of the town all who could not assist to the best of their power in the defence. Some shammed illness to escape their tasks. But this was the exception. Well-to-do citizens worked zealously, took their share of sentry duty on the bitterly cold nights, and submitted to the commands of officers in the militia, their inferiors in education and fortune. On the loftiest point of Cape Diamond Carleton erected a mast, thirty feet high, with a sentry box at its top. From this he could command a bird's eye view of the enemy's operations, to a point as distant as Ste. Foy Church. When one of the besiegers asked a loyalist Canadian what the queer-looking object on the pole really was he answered, "It is a wooden horse with a bundle of hay before him." A second remark capped this one: "General Carleton has said that he will not give up the town till the horse has ate all the hay; and the General is a man of his word."

Although Montgomery did not eat his Christmas dinner in Quebec a few days later he was ready for an assault. The crisis came on the last day of the year 1775. Early on that day, between four and five in the morning, Captain Malcolm Fraser, in command of the main guard, was going his rounds in Quebec when he saw a signal thrown by the enemy from the heights outside the walls near Cape Diamond. Fraser knew at once that it meant an attack. He sent word to the other guards in Quebec and ordered the ringing of the alarm bell, and the drum-beat to arms. He himself ran down St. Louis street, shouting to the guards to "Turn out" as loudly and often as he could, and with such effect that he was heard even by General Carleton, lodged at the Recollet convent. It was a boisterous night and the elements themselves raged so fiercely that some of the alarms were not heard. But, in time, all Quebec was aroused and the guards stood at their posts.

The alarm was completed when to its din was added the menacing sound of cannon. The besiegers began to ply the town with shells, and those who looked out over the ramparts could see in the darkness the flash of guns. Soon began from behind ridges of snow, within eighty yards of the walls of Cape Diamond, the patter of musketry. The Americans were seeking to lead the defenders of Quebec to believe that an assault on the walls of the Upper Town on the side of the Plains of Abraham was imminent and to hold the defence to this point. In fact the real danger was far away.



Montgomery's was a hazardous plan. He had resolved to try to seize the Lower Town first and then to get his troops into the Upper Town by way of the steep Mountain Street, thus taking the defenders of the walls in the rear. It was a desperate venture, depending for its success largely upon the surprise of the garrison which Malcolm Fraser's thorough-going alarm had prevented. Montgomery himself, with a force of several hundred men, marched to the Lower Town from Wolfe's Cove along the narrow path under the cliffs, a distance of nearly two miles, with progress impeded by darkness, by heavy snow-drifts, and by blocks of ice which the tide had strewn along the shore. His men struggled on in the dark hoping to surprise the post which guarded the road below Cape Diamond at a point called Pres de Ville. Here were some fifty defenders and the tale of what happened is soon told. The guardians of the post were on the alert, for at it, too, Malcolm Fraser's warning had been effective. As Montgomery bravely advanced, at the head of his men, there was a flash and a roar in the darkness and the blinding snow storm, and, a moment after, Montgomery lay dead in the snow with a bullet through his head. Two or three other officers were struck down. The British heard groans and then there was silence. As daylight came they saw hands and arms protruding from the snow, but only slowly did they realize that the chief of their foes was killed.

Nairne was on duty elsewhere but he did not miss severe fighting. Arnold was to advance on the Lower Town from the north-eastern suburb, St. Roch's, to meet at the foot of Mountain Street Montgomery coming from the west. At first he was more fortunate than Montgomery. When the rocket from Cape Diamond went up he set out. The storm was frightful but it served to conceal Arnold's force from Quebec's sentries. The Americans passed under the height where stands the Hotel Dieu. Here Nairne was stationed with a small guard. They spied the Americans in the darkness and kept up as effective a fire as the dim light permitted. But the assailants were able to advance along the whole east side of Quebec and to reach the entrance to the Sault au Matelot, a short and narrow street opening into the steep Mountain Street, by which alone the Upper Town could be reached. Here fortune favoured them for, apparently, in spite of Fraser's alarm, they surprised the guard at the first barrier by which the street was closed. The street itself they secured but when they reached the second barrier at its farther end, commanding the road to the Upper Town, it was well defended by an alert garrison. Arnold had already been wounded and taken to the rear and Morgan, an intrepid leader, was in command of the assailing force. Every moment he expected that Montgomery would arrive to attack the second barrier on the Sault au Matelot from the West as he attacked it from the East. But Montgomery was dead and Morgan waited in vain.

While the Americans were checked by the second barrier, Carleton was not idle. There was an excellent chance to send a force out of the Palace Gate near the Hotel Dieu, by which the assailants had passed, and to attack them in the rear. For this duty Colonel Caldwell was told off and he took with him Nairne and his picket of about thirty men. The force plodded through the deep snow in the tracks of the enemy who, about daybreak, were astonished to find themselves shut in by British forces at each end of the Sault au Matelot. A hand to hand fight followed. The Americans took refuge in the houses of the street and it was the task of the British to drive them out. In this Nairne distinguished himself. "Major Nairne of the Royal Emigrants and M. Dambourges of the same corps by their gallant behaviour attracted the attention of every body," writes an English officer.[8] By ladders, taken from the enemy, they mounted to a window of one of the houses, from which came a destructive fire, and at the point of the bayonet drove the foe out by the door into the street. In the end, to the number of more than four hundred, the Americans were forced to surrender. The casualties included thirty killed and forty-two wounded. By eight o'clock all was over. "It was the first time I ever happened to be so closely engaged," Nairne wrote to his sister on May 14th, 1776, "as we were obliged to push our bayonets. It is certainly a disagreeable necessity to be obliged to put one another to death, especially those speaking the same language and dressed in the same manner with ourselves.... These mad people had a large piece of white linen or paper upon their foreheads with the words "Liberty or Death" wrote upon it." Nairne's account is modest enough. One would not gather from it that his own conspicuous courage had obtained general recognition.[9]

Even with Montgomery killed, Arnold wounded, and quite one-quarter of their force dead or captured, those grim men who wished "Liberty or Death" had no thought of raising the siege. Ere long Arnold was again active and, for four months longer, the Americans kept Carleton shut up within Quebec. So deep lay the snow that to walk into the ditch from the embrasures in the walls was easy; buried in the snow were the muzzles of guns thirty feet from the bottom of the ditch. Sometimes Nairne was actively engaged in scouting work. In February we find him leading a party to take possession of the English burying ground in the suburbs; on March 19th, he went out into the open from Cape Diamond to the height overlooking the Anse de Mer. But nothing happened; a diarist expresses, on April 21st, his contempt for the American attack by writing: "Hitherto they have killed a boy, wounded a soldier, and broke the leg of a turkey."[10]

The assailants were, in truth, impotent before the masterly inactivity of Carleton, who waited patiently behind his walls for the arrival in the spring of a British fleet. Counting upon this expectancy the Americans tried an old-time ruse. Between nine and ten o'clock in the evening of May 3rd, with the moon shining brightly and the tide flowing in and nearly high, a ship under full sail came into view from the direction of the Island of Orleans. With the wind behind her she swung in at a good rate of speed. Those who watched were, for a moment, sure that the long expected rescue had come. But, as she bore down to the cul de sac where lay the shipping at Quebec, she made no response to signals. At last, the British, after three vain efforts to draw a response, warned her to reply or they should fire. When this threat was carried out she was only some two hundred yards away. Then suddenly flames burst out on the ship, followed by random explosions; a boat left her side rowed very swiftly, and it was now apparent that she was sent to burn, if possible, the British shipping. It must have been an anxious moment when she was so near and heading straight for her prey. But, showing a natural prudence, those who steered left her too soon and, with no hand at the helm, her head came up quickly in the wind. By this time all Quebec had been alarmed and, as attack from the landward side was also expected, every man was soon at his post. The ship was a striking sight as, with sails and rigging on fire, she drifted helplessly before the town. When the tide turned she floated down, a mass of fire, with explosions shaking her from time to time, to the shallows off Beauport where she soon lay stranded, a blackened ruin of half-burnt timbers.

Quebec still waited for rescue, and not in vain. At day break, on the 6th of May, a frigate appeared round Point Levi. Again went forth the cry of "A ship," "A ship." "The news," we are told, "soon reached every pillow in town." Men half dressed rushed to the Grand Battery, which was quickly crowded with spectators, who indulged in much shaking of hands, and in the exchange of compliments, as the character of the ship became clear. She was the British frigate Surprise, and, with much difficulty, had forced her way, under full sail, through the great fields of ice which still blocked the river. Following her closely were the Isis and a sloop the Martin. Quebec went wild with joy. But there was still serious business on hand. The Surprise brought a part of the 29th regiment and a good many marines. They were landed at once. Carleton lost not a moment and, by twelve o'clock of the same day, the gates of Quebec were thrown open and he marched out to attack the Americans.

It was only a thin red line that stretched across the Plains of Abraham. But the Americans dared not face it. The newly arrived ships might, they feared, carry a force up the river and cut off retreat; so, after some desultory skirmishing, the investing army fled. It was now commanded by General Wooster, for Arnold had gone to Montreal. The flight soon became a panic. Arms, clothes, food, private letters and papers were thrown away. Nairne was in command of a portion of the Highland Emigrants, who were the vanguard of the British pursuing force, and was among the first to occupy the American batteries. On that very ground he had fought, victorious in 1759, woefully beaten in 1760; now, a victor again, he helped to drive back a force, some of whose members had been his companions in those earlier campaigns. That night the relieved British slept secure in Quebec, while the bedraggled American force was making its distressful way towards Montreal.

Though the American army soon withdrew from Montreal and from Canada, the war was still to drag on for many weary years. Throughout the whole of it Nairne remained on active service. In September, 1776, we find him in command of the garrison at Montreal. In 1777 he was sent to command the post at Isle aux Noix which guarded the route into Canada by way of Lake Champlain. Here Fraser was serving under him as Captain; the two friends were usually together throughout the war. At Isle aux Noix Nairne remained until June, 1779. We get glimpses from his letters of the defects in the service at this time. There were involuntary evils, such as scurvy, caused by want of fresh meat and vegetables, but relieved by drinking a decoction of hemlock spruce. Moral evils there were too, such as gambling and drunkenness; in 1778 the commanding officer gave warning that he had heard of losses at play, and that those taking part in such practises would be excluded from promotion.

The British officers showed sometimes a fool-hardy recklessness. On March 9th, 1778, one Lieutenant Mackinnon, with forty-five volunteers, set out from Pointe au Fer, near Isle aux Noix, to surprise an American post at Parsons' House, no less than sixty miles distant, and in the heart of the enemy's country. A few days later two of the volunteers returned with news that the attack had wholly failed, that six of the party were killed and six wounded, and that Lieutenant Mackinnon and four others were missing. So reckless an attack was bad enough and, in the General Orders, it was condemned as "a presumptuous disregard of military discipline"; only vigilance and watchfulness were required of the picket at Pointe au Fer, so that the enemy might not invade the province. At the incident the Commander-in-Chief was very angry. "I never saw the General in such a passion in my life," wrote an officer to Nairne. Mackinnon had surrounded the house in the darkness and both he and his men, as far as is known, had done their best. Though wounded and for a time missing, in the end Mackinnon got back crippled to Isle aux Noix. But he had failed, and whispers soon began that he showed cowardice in the attack; an absurd charge, as Nairne said, for he had given proof of rather too much, than of too little, courage. The accusation gave Nairne infinite trouble. The subalterns in the Royal Highland Emigrants refused to do duty with Mackinnon, and General Haldimand, who succeeded Carleton in the summer of 1778, would not take the matter seriously enough to grant a Court Martial, that Mackinnon might clear himself. For quite a year and a half the affair dragged on. In the end, at a Court of Enquiry, Mackinnon was acquitted. Haldimand told Nairne to rebuke the officers sternly for combining to subvert authority, for disrespect to their superiors, and for refusing, on the basis of futile reports and hearsays, to serve with Mackinnon. "I much mistake his character," wrote Nairne of Mackinnon, "if he can ... be prevented from calling one or two of those gentlemen to a severe account."

A part of Nairne's duty was to watch the French Canadians and check sedition. In spite of the failure of Arnold's expedition many of them were still favourable to the American cause. They harboured deserters in the remoter parishes, gave protection and assistance to rebels, and threw as many difficulties as possible in the path of loyalists. Nairne found two men issuing papers from a printing press to foment sedition and sent them down to Quebec to stand their trial for treason.

From Isle aux Noix Nairne was sent, in the summer of 1779, with fifty of his Royal Highland Emigrants, to command at Carleton Island, near Kingston where Lake Ontario flows into the St. Lawrence; some thirty-five years later his only surviving son held a military command at the same place. Here there was much to do in strengthening the fortifications and in keeping up communications with Niagara and other points in the interior. The situation was not without its embarrassments. Prisoners were sent in from Niagara and he had no prison in which to keep them. For want of fresh meat and vegetables there was much sickness. But the Indians were his greatest trial. Through him came their supplies and, to hold them at all, he had sometimes to serve out the rum for which such savages are always greedy. On July 4th, Nairne made a speech to these Mississaga Indians and said pretty plainly what he thought of them. Against the American scouts they had proved no defence; at night they fired off guns in the neighbouring woods and created false alarms, which prevented Nairne's men from getting their proper sleep. "My men work hard in the day," he said, "and I will have them to sleep sound at night," and he warned the Indians that he would fire upon them if their noise disturbed him further. The savages, he wrote to Haldimand, are "almost unbearable, greedy and importunate." They behaved more like rebels than friends and their talk ended always in the demand for rum, "the cause of all bad behaviour in Indians."

On the remoter frontiers the war was ruthless beyond measure. Sir John Johnson devastated the Mohawk valley, in the present State of New York, and some of his prisoners were received at Carleton Island. Of this inglorious warfare Haldimand's secretary, Captain Matthews, wrote to Nairne a little later [17th June, 1780], "You will have heard that Sir John Johnson has executed the purpose of his enterprise without the loss of a man, having destroyed upwards of an hundred dwelling houses, barns, mills, stock, &c., and brought off 150 Loyalists, besides Women and Children." The worst outrages came from the Indian allies, of whom Nairne thought so badly. From Niagara, on March 1st, 1779, Captain John MacDonnell wrote to Nairne of the terrible massacre at Cherry Valley, on the New York frontier, which excited horror throughout the colonies, and did much to inflame the hatred of the Americans for England. Not, however, the English but the Indians were really guilty. "There has nothing appeared," wrote Captain MacDonnell, "on the theatre of the war of near so tragical or rather barbarous a hue; the reflection never represents itself to my view but when accompanyed with the greatest horrors; both Sexes, young and old Tomahawked, Speared and Scalped indiscriminately in the most inhuman and cruel manner. But that there was all possible care and precaution taken to prevent them is undenyable. Captain Butler, who had command of the expedition, was indefatigable in his endeavours and exertions to restrain and mitigate the fury and ferocity of the savages often at the risk of the Tomahawk being made use of against himself as well as the Indian officers.... Out of a hundred and seventy scalps three-fourths were those of Women and Children." Butler's name is still looked upon in the United States as that of a fiend incarnate, but the testimony of his fellow officer seems to free him from blame for the worst of the horrors. Both sides were bitter, but Nairne himself never shows any vehemence of passion. In his view the war was a painful necessity, to be fought to the end without anger.

Late in 1779, Nairne was recalled from Carleton Island. He reached Montreal on the 5th of December, and, two days later, secured leave of absence to look after his private affairs. At this time General Haldimand had matured a plan to take advantage of the remote position of Murray Bay to confine there some of his American prisoners. At Murray Bay they seemed particularly safe. There was as yet no road over Cap Tourmente; in any case to go in the direction of Quebec would mean seizure sooner or later; to go in the opposite direction would be to perish in the wilderness; and the only outlet was by water across a wintry river some twelve miles broad. On the 26th of January, 1780, Haldimand wrote to Nairne at Murray Bay that he was to erect buildings for rebel and other prisoners, and that, to do the work, some men were being sent down; he was to employ in addition as many of the inhabitants as he might think necessary.

Nairne stayed on at Murray Bay in 1780 much longer than the two months for which he had originally asked. A part of his duty was to watch that American colony, so different in station and situation from the many Americans who now visit the spot. As yet there were no barracks in which to confine the poor fellows, and the climate of Murray Bay is not too hospitable in winter. Some kind of rough quarters must have been prepared for the prisoners, in the winter of 1779-80, and they were kept busy in helping to build the houses intended for their occupation. They seemed contented. One of them Nairne kept about his person. He knew where everything was placed and all the men were used, Nairne says, in the best manner he could think of. But liberty is sweet and they longed for their own land. So, early in May, 1780, when the ice was out of the river and there was a chance to get away, eight of them made a dash for liberty.[11] No doubt under cover of night, they stole a boat and put out boldly into the great river across which, in so small a craft, few ever venture, even in mild summer weather. Almost wonderful to relate, they reached the south shore in safety. Nairne was uncertain whether they had gone up, down, or across the river. He hurried to Tadousac, crossed to Cacouna and then went up the south shore. At St. Roch he found that the men, rowing a boat, had been seen to pass. On May 14th this boat was found abandoned. On the 15th the men were seen on the highway carrying their packs. We are almost sorry to learn that the poor fellows were in the end captured and taken to Quebec. Nairne reported the flight of these men on the 14th of May. Their example was contagious for, on the 18th, while he was absent in their pursuit, four others made off, found a small boat on the shore some nine miles from Malbaie, and put out into the river, where their tiny craft was seen heading for Kamouraska on the south shore. A few days later two others also escaped. These had not courage to strike out into the river, and one of them was caught at Baie St. Paul. Nairne offered a reward of four dollars for each of the prisoners and probably all were taken. A sequel of the incident was that a non-commissioned officer and eight men of the Anhalt-Zerbst Regiment were sent to guard the remaining prisoners at Murray Bay—a task apparently beyond Nairne's local militia. This guard was, no doubt, composed of Germans; one wonders to what extent they fraternized with the French Canadians. It is amusing to read that, when one of them deserted, he was brought back by a habitant.

In 1781 we find Nairne stationed at Vercheres on the south side of the St. Lawrence, nearly opposite Montreal. He was now in charge of the expatriated Loyalists who had found refuge in that part of Canada. A whole corps of them were billeted in the two parishes of Vercheres and Contrecoeur—the officers chiefly at Contrecoeur. They lived, of course, in the cottages with the habitants. On December 16th, 1781, Nairne writes to General Riedesel, a German officer who played a conspicuous part on the British side in the Revolutionary war and was now in command at Sorel, that the Canadians do not mind supplying firewood for the loyalist officers but that they rather object to having the same people quartered upon them for two years at a time. Though an occasional officer had said that the Loyalists were not obedient, he adds that they were quiet and orderly people. Some of them had large families and must have crowded uncomfortably their involuntary hosts. These colonial English living in the households of their old-time enemies, the French Canadians, make a somewhat pathetic picture. We see what domestic suffering the Revolutionary War involved. Some were very old; one "genteel sort of woman," a widow, had four children, the youngest but four months old; there was another whose husband had been hanged at Saratoga as a spy. Very large sums passed through Nairne's hands in behalf of the Loyalists. One account which he renders amounts to about L20,000.[12]

Nairne's regiment, the Royal Highland Emigrants, had been put upon the permanent establishment in 1779. Sometimes he complained that his own promotion was slow; not until the spring of 1783 was he given the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. Having reached this goal he intended, as soon as he decently could, to sell out and retire. Late in 1782 we find him again in command at Isle aux Noix and not sure but that he may at any time be surprised by the Americans. It seems odd that, though Cornwallis had already surrendered at Yorktown, and the war was really over, Nairne was still hoping for final victory for Great Britain; on February 8th, 1783, he writes: "It is to be hoped that affairs will at last take a favourable turn to Great Britain; her cause is really a just one." In fact preliminary articles of the most disastrous peace Great Britain has ever made had already been signed.

Nairne was now anxious to go home. But even in June, 1783, he could not get leave of absence from Isle aux Noix for even a fortnight. Conditions were still unsettled. American traders were now pressing into Canada but Nairne sent back any that he caught; the cessation of arms was, he said, no warrant as yet for commercial intercourse and many suspicious characters were about. The troops from Europe were returning home. General Riedesel, about to leave for Germany, wrote from Sorel on July 6th, 1783, a warm letter of thanks to Nairne for the attention, readiness, and punctuality of his services. Not long after, in the same year, Nairne was at last free. He now sold his commission, receiving for it L3,000. With the sale he renounced all claim to half-pay, pension, or other consideration for past services and the sum he received was, therefore, no very great final reward for his long services. There had been some competition for this commission and its final disposal throws some light on promotion in the army under the purchase system. General Haldimand insisted that Captain Matthews, who appears to have been his relative, should get it, since the General "must provide for his own family." At this time Malcolm Fraser too thought of selling out but he made difficulties about terms and the opportunity passed; Fraser was, indeed, to live to see recruiting service in the war of 1812. When the war was over, Nairne hurried to Murray Bay and to the country life in which he delighted, and in his correspondence we soon find him discussing not high questions of national defence but the qualities of "a well-bred bull calf" and of an improved plough. "I have more satisfaction," he says, perhaps with a touch of irony, "in a country life and [in] cultivating a farm than even [in] being employed as first major of the Quebec militia." Henceforth his heart is wholly at Murray Bay and in his interests there.

[Footnote 8: Diary of an English Officer. Proceedings of the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec, 1871-72, p. 61.]

[Footnote 9: See Appendix C., p. 273, for the text of his letter to his sister describing the operations of the winter at Quebec. It is an able review of the campaign.]

[Footnote 10: Proceedings of the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec, 7th Series, 1905, p. 75; "Blockade of Quebec," etc.]

[Footnote 11: The men's names were Peter Ferris, Squir Ferris, Claudius Brittle (Sr.), Claudius Brittle (Jr.), Nathan Smith, Marshal Smith, Justice Sturdevant, John Ward.]

[Footnote 12: The book in which Nairne kept the accounts, with the names of the recipients of the king's bounty, is still at Murray Bay.]



CHAPTER V

THE LAST DAYS OF JOHN NAIRNE

Nairne's careful education of his children.—His son John enters the army.—Nairne's counsels to his son.—John Nairne goes to India.—His death.—Nairne's declining years.—His activities at Murray Bay.—His income.—His daughter Christine and Quebec society.—The isolation of Murray Bay in Winter.—Signals across the river.—Nairne's reading.—His notes about current events.—The fear of a French invasion of England.—Thoughts of flight from Scotland to Murray Bay.—Nairne's last letter, April 20th, 1802.—His death and burial at Quebec.

Colonel Nairne's life was troubled with many sorrows. In 1773, when he was on a visit to Scotland, Malcolm Fraser had had the painful duty of writing to tell him of the death of three of his infant children at Murray Bay from a prevailing epidemic. His daughter, Anne, born in 1784, was sent to Scotland to be educated. She contracted consumption and after a prolonged illness died there in 1796. "This event gave me great affliction," wrote Nairne, "she was always a most amiable child." There now remained two sons and three daughters,[13] and Nairne may well have been certain that his name would go down to an abundant posterity. One of the chief interests of his life was their training and education. All in turn were sent to Scotland for their chief schooling. The eldest son, John, born in 1777, and his sister Christine, some three years older, lived in Edinburgh with aunts who showed exhaustless kindness and interest. Nairne was grateful, and writing from Malbaie on August 27th, 1791, he says: "[I] am glad of an opportunity, my dear Christine and Jack, to remind you both in the strongest manner I am able of the gratitude and assiduous Duty you owe to your Aunts and other Relations for admitting you into their family and also for the attention they are pleased to bestow on your education." Upon his children he imposes indeed counsels of perfection not easy to fulfil; "Remember it's my injunctions and absolute orders to you both to have always an obedient temper to your superiors ... to receive every reprimand with submission and attention as it can only be intended for your benefit in order to give you a valuable character which of all things is the greatest blessing both for this world and the next; besides you must consider that you are never to indulge yourselves in any sort of indolence or laziness but to rise early in the morning to be the more able to fulfil your Duty.... As to you, Jack, I expect to see you a Gallant and honourable fellow that will always scorn to tell the least lie in your life. It was well done to answer Captain Fraser [Malcolm Fraser, a Lieutenant in 1762, is still only a Captain in 1791!] with which he was well pleased.... Both of you have I think improved in your writing which gives me pleasure." He adds regretfully to Christine: "I cannot send you a muff this year but perhaps I may do so next year." The letter closes with a modest list of purchases to be sent out from Edinburgh for Malbaie: "one piece of Calico for two gowns; one piece of calico for children; three pieces of linen (for shirts), two of which coarse and the other a little finer; one yard of cambrick; five yards of muslin (for caps and Handkerchiefs); six yards of lace (for caps); twelve yards of different ribbons, three pairs of worsted stockings and three pairs of cotton stockings for myself."

Jack was to follow a military career, and he entered the army when a youth of sixteen or seventeen. His first active service was in the West Indies, after war with revolutionary France broke out, and the dangers of that climate gave his father some anxiety; all will be well, he hopes, if Jack continues to take a certain "powder of the Jesuits' Bark"; above all "the best rules are temperance and sobriety"; then "the same gracious Power who protected me in many dangers through the course of three Wars will also vouchsafe protection to you through this one." In 1795, when Jack was only eighteen, his corps was back in England and, through the influence of a distant relative, General Graeme, with the Duke of York, Commander in Chief of the Army and all powerful in days when promotion went avowedly by favour and purchase rather than by merit, Jack secured a Lieutenancy in the 19th Regiment. His father was delighted: "I wish you much joy with all my heart of your quick rise in being at your age already a Lieutenant in an old Regiment whereas I was past twenty-six years of age before I obtained a Lieutenancy in the British service and that only in a young corps." At the time, with Britain warring on the French Directory, service in Europe for Jack was not unlikely, and was desired by Nairne. But in the end Jack's regiment was ordered to India. Nairne was sorely disappointed, but writing to Jack he laid down a great guiding principle: "we must suppose that Providence orders everything aright and that, provided we are always active and diligent in doing our duty, there is reason to be satisfied." In view of what was to happen, his anxiety for the success of his son is pathetic. He exhorts him in regard to every detail of conduct. He is to avoid drink and gambling; to pay his accounts promptly; to be punctual and scrupulously exact whenever duty or business is concerned. The father is particularly anxious about his son's capacity to express himself in good English and lays down the sound maxim that "writing a correct and easy style is undoubtedly of all education the most necessary and requisite." To acquire this he "ought to write and read a great deal with intense labour, attention and application"; to write several hours a day is not too much and to get time he must go to bed early and rise early. It is wise to keep a grammar and dictionary always at hand to correct possible errors. He should also translate from French into English. The father himself undertakes the duty of the complete letter writer, drawing up for Jack a model on which his letters may be based. "In writing ordinary letters (as in conversation) a large scope may be taken, as of News, all sorts of information, adventures, descriptions, remarks, enquirys, compliments, &c., &c., but in a letter upon business one is commonly confined only to what is necessary to be said on the subject and to civilitys and politeness." Certainly Jack did not lack admonition and when he does well his father writes that it makes him "very happy." When in one letter Jack mentions the practise of smoking his father is severe: "All our family have ever been temperate not [practising] even the Debauchery of smoking tobacco, a nasty Dutch, Damn'd custom, a forerunner of idleness and drunkenness; therefore Jack, my lad, let us hear no more of your handling your Pipe, but handle well your fuzee, your sword, your pen and your Books."

Certainly the pictures sometimes drawn of the brutality, violent manners and ignorance of the British officer at this period find no confirmation in Nairne's monitions to his son, or in the account of his own military experience which dates from the mid-eighteenth century. He says to Jack: "Say your Prayers regularly to God Almighty and trust entirely to His Will and Pleasure for your own preservation.... If you should happen to be in an engagement attend to your men, encourage them to act with spirit in such a manner as most effectually to destroy their enemy's."[14] When Jack is a little too free in his demands for money the Colonel, writing on Nov. 22nd, 1795, tells him of his own experience:

I have done wrong in having given you so much money since you went into the Army which might have served you almost without any pay from the King and which by the bye I can little afford. You obtained it easily; for which reason I suppose you have spent it easily: you have no right to expect more than I had at your age yet you seem to regard twenty pounds as I would have done twenty shillings. But you must now understand that twenty pounds is a considerable sum to my circumstances they being straitened for the Rank and the family which I have to support; therefore I have to inform you that you are to draw no more Bills upon Mr. Ker nor upon me without first obtaining his or my consent in writing for so doing. It is no disgrace nor does it hurt the service (but quite the contrary) for every officer and soldier to live within the limits of the pay which Government has thought proper to allow them. They are thereby more led to temperance, to improve themselves by study, to mind their duty and how best to promote the service of their country. I served sixteen years as a subaltern officer in the army, made long sea voyages with the Regiment, furnished myself with sea stores, camp equipage and every other necessary equipments [and] my Father nor any Relation during that time was never [put to] one farthing's expense upon my account. Altho' I sometimes lost money in the Recruiting service I repayed it by stoppages from my pay, was always present with the men whether in camp or in Garrison and punctually attending on my Duty. I endeavoured to be in a good mess for my Dinner, drank small Beer or Water when it was good; when the Water was bad qualified it with a mixture of Wine or Ginger or Milk or Vinegar but no grog or smoking tobacco. I was always an enemy to suppers, never engaged myself in the Evenings, but on particular occasions or to be Complaisant to Strangers. Nor [did I] ask Company to see me when on Guard; nor show a Vanity to treat people. By which means I had a great deal of quiet and sober time to myself, to read and to write, &c., &c., especially as I always rose early in the Mornings. You may believe also that I was always far from being concerned in any sort of Gaming so as to risk losing any of my money or to have a desire to gain any from others. By such a Conduct I received more favour and regard sometimes from my Commanding officers even than I thought I was entitled to.

These monitions to Jack were written while his father was in Scotland in 1795. There they separated, the father to return to Canada with Christine whose schooldays were now ended, Jack to go with his regiment to India. In parting from his son the father pronounced a solemn benediction: "that God may preserve you and assist you in following always that which is good and virtuous shall ever be my most earnest prayer." They never met again. Jack continued to draw rather freely upon his father for funds, and Nairne wrote to the Colonel of the regiment to ask for information about the young man. Before an answer came Scottish relatives learned in 1800 of Jack's fate and wrote of it to Murray Bay. A friend of the family in India had noticed in the newspaper that some one was promoted to John Nairne's place. This led to enquiry, when it was found that he had died in August, 1799. Not until six months after his death, and then only in reply to the enquiry as to Jack's demands for money, did his commanding officer write the following letter to Colonel Nairne:

Colonel Dalrymple to Colonel Nairne

From Columbo [India], 1st Feb., 1800.

I received your letter dated October, 1798, but a short time ago but too late, had there been any occasion to have spoken to your son upon the subject it contained for, Poor fellow, it is with pain I'm to inform you of his death. He died upon the 7th of August, 1799, in the Coimbalore country upon the return from the capture of Seringapatam. Never did a young man die more regretted nor never was an officer more beloved by his corps. He was an honour to his profession. An involuntary tear starts in my eye on thus being obliged to give you this painful information.

The cause of his having drawn for so much money from Bombay was unfortunately his ship parted from us and they did not join at Columbo for some months, where I understand he had been induced to play by some designing people. But I assure you, from the moment he joined here, his life was exemplary for all young men. He was beloved by every description of people. From the very sudden way he took the field and the very expensive mode of campaigning in this country he was in debt to the paymaster. He was not singular; they were all in the same predicament. The first division of the prize money which was one thousand ster. Pagodas, about your hundred pounds, will only clear him with the Regiment.

Long before this letter arrived the news was known at Murray Bay. Malcolm Fraser, the tried family friend, writes on September 1st, 1800, that he has just discharged the most painful task of telling the sad news to Jack's sister and companion, Christine, who was visiting in Quebec. In his grief Nairne gives an exceeding bitter cry, "Lord, help me. I shall lose all my children before I go myself." His sister Magdalen wrote from Edinburgh on March 17th, 1800, to offer comfort and to hope that he bears the trial "with Christian fortitude, and that God will reward him by sparing those that remain to be a blessing to him," Nairne's sisters now had with them in Edinburgh the two remaining children, Tom and Mary, called "Polly." John is gone but Tom is left, says the fond aunt, and to console Nairne she tells of Tom's virtues: "Never was father blessed with a more promising son than our little Tom, and though I used to dread he was too faultless and too good to live, I would now persuade myself he is intended by Providence to compensate you for the losses you have sustained." On Tom now centred the hopes of the Nairne family.



The sands of Nairne's own life were running out. As he looked around him he could see much to make his heart content. He was never unmindful of the singular beauty of the place. "I wish I could send you a landscape of this place," he wrote to a friend, John Clark, in 1798; "Was you here your pencil might be employed in drawing a beautiful one which this Bay affords, as the views and different objects are remarkably various and entertaining." This is, no doubt, a mild account of the beauties of a very striking scene, but the 18th century had not developed our appreciation for nature. Nairne tells of his delight in tramping through the woods, and over the mountains, with a gun on his shoulder. The increase of settlement, and the burning of the woods, had driven the wild animals farther back into the wilderness, but partridges and water fowl were still abundant. There was salmon fishing almost at his door and "Lake Nairne," the present Grand Lac, had famous trout fishing. The thick woods, which at his coming extended all round the bay, were now cleared away. Much land had been enclosed and brought under cultivation and to do this had been a laborious and expensive task. Now he had three farms of his own, each with a hundred acres of arable land and with proper buildings. There was also a smaller farm for hay and pasture. "I have been employed lately," he writes in 1798, "making paths into our woods and marking the trees in straight lines thro' tracts of pretty good land in order to encourage the young men to take lots of land." He tells how the successive ridges, representing, no doubt, different water levels in remote ages, were numbered. In the highest, Number 7, the lakes are all situated; the elevated land was generally the best but as yet settlement was chiefly in Flats 1, 2, and 3. His great aim had always been to get people on the land and he denounced obstacles put in their way. "For God's sake let them pitch away, and if they have not good titles give them better." The Manor House had become a warm and comfortable residence well finished and well furnished. In 1801 Nairne wrote to his sister, with some natural exultation, that where he had at first found an untrodden wilderness were now order, neatness, good buildings, a garden and plenty of flowers, fruits and humming birds. In the winter one might often say "O, it's cold," but means of warming oneself were always available. His wife had proved always a useful helper and was indeed a motherly, practical woman, beloved by the people. These came to pay their compliments on the first day of the year, when there was much drinking of whiskey and eating of cakes, all costing a pretty penny. There were 100 young men in the parish composing a complete company of militia. The children grew up so fast that he could not distinguish the half of them.

On the commercial side also Murray Bay was developing. In 1800 a man came through the district buying up wheat at "9 livers a Bushel," but since the population was increasing very rapidly, and the people were accustomed to eat a great deal of bread, there was not much wheat for export. The total exports of all commodities amounted in 1800 to L1500:—oil, timber, grain, oxen and a few furs being the chief items. Oil was the most important product; it came from the "porpoise" fishery. What Nairne calls a porpoise, is really the beluga, a small white whale. The fishery is an ancient industry on the St. Lawrence.[15] The creature has become timid and is now not readily caught so that the industry survives at only a few points. At Malbaie it has wholly ceased; but in the summer of 1796 sixty-two porpoises were killed at "Pointe au Pique." In the summer of 1800, which was hot and dry, no less than three hundred were "catched." Malbaie must have had bustling activity on its shores when such numbers of these huge creatures were taken in a single season. We can picture the many fires necessary for boiling the blubber. The oil of each beluga was worth L5 and the skin L1. Nairne's own share in a single year from this source of revenue was L70, but even then the industry was declining.

We have Nairne's statement of income in 1798 and it indicates simple living at Malbaie. We must remember that in addition, he had received a number of bequests which brought in a considerable income and that he had sold out of the army for L3000. Perhaps, too, 1798 was a bad year.

"Porpoise" fishery L20 Income from four farms at L20 each 80 Profits from mills 20 ——- L120

The rent from the land granted to the habitants was scarcely worth reckoning, as the people paid nothing until the land was productive, a condition that could apparently be postponed indefinitely. Since under the seigniorial tenure, the farmers must use the seigneur's grist mill, Nairne had his mill in operation and Fraser was building one in 1798. Nairne had also one or more mills for sawing timber. "I hope there are a great many loggs brought and to be brought to your and my saw mills," Fraser wrote in 1797, but an income of only L20 a year from the mills does not indicate any extortionate exercise of seigniorial rights.

Already some of the city people were beginning to find Murray Bay a delightful place in which to spend the summer. In 1799 Nairne writes to a friend, Richard Dobie, in Montreal, that it is the best place in the world for the recovery of strength. "You shall drink the best of wheys and breathe the purest sea air in the world and, although luxuries will be wanting, our friendship and the best things the place can afford to you, I know, will make ample amends:"—a simple standard of living that subsequent generations would do well to remember. In 1801 the manor house must have been the scene of some gaiety for there and at Malcolm Fraser's were half a score of visitors. Christine, Nairne's second daughter, who preferred Quebec to the paternal roof, had come home for a visit and other visitors were the Hon. G. Taschereau and his son, Mr. Usburn, Mr. Masson, Mrs. Langan and Mrs. Bleakley, Fraser's daughters, described as "rich ladies from Montreal," the last with three children. No doubt they drove and walked, rowed and fished, much as people from New York and Baltimore and Boston and Toronto and Montreal do still on the same scene, when they are not pursuing golf balls. The coming of people with more luxurious habits made improvements necessary and also, Nairne says, increased the expense of living—a complaint that successive generations have continued with justice to make.

With Tom and Mary Nairne absent at school in Edinburgh, the family at Murray Bay during Nairne's last days consisted of but four persons—of himself and his wife and the two daughters Magdalen and Christine. Christine, a fashionable young lady, disliked Murray Bay as a place of residence, tolerated Quebec, but preferred Scotland where she had been educated. "Christine does not like to stay at Murray Bay and Madie her sister does not like to stay anywhere else," wrote Nairne in 1800. In the manner of the eighteenth century he was extremely anxious that his children should be "genteel". Christine's Quebec friends pleased him. "I saw her dance at a ball at the Lieutenant-Governor's and she seemed at no loss for Genteel partners but does not prepare to find one for life. I am well pleased with her and do not in the least grudge her so long as she is esteemed by the best company in the place." It was not easy to find at Quebec proper accommodation for unmarried young women living away from home. Nairne writes in August, 1797, that he and Christine each paid $1.00 a day in Quebec where they lodged, although they mostly dined and drank tea abroad. "The town gentry of Quebec are vastly hospitable Civil and well-bred but no such a thing as an invitation to stay in any of their houses." At length a Mr. Stewart opened his doors. He must, Nairne wrote, be paid tactfully for the accommodation he furnishes. Things went better when later Miss Mabane, the daughter of a high official of the Government, kept Christine with her at Quebec all the winter of 1799-1800; no doubt Christine was pleased when Miss Mabane would not allow her to go to Murray Bay even for the summer. Her elder sister, Madie, appears to have been hoydenish and somewhat uncongenial to a young lady so determined to be "genteel."

In the winter time communication with the outside world was almost entirely suspended. In case of emergency it was possible indeed to pass on snow shoes by Cap Tourmente, over which there was still no road, and so reach Quebec by the north shore. But this was a severe journey to be undertaken only for grave cause. Partly frozen over, and often with great floes of ice sweeping up and down with the tide, the river was dangerous; the south shore, lying so well in sight, was really very remote. Yet news passed across the river. On February 12th, 1797, Malcolm Fraser, who was on the south shore, found some means of sending a letter to Nairne. Anxious to get word in return he planned a signal. He said that on March 6th he would go to Kamouraska, just opposite Murray Bay, and build a fire. If Nairne answered by one fire Fraser would be satisfied that nothing unusual had happened; if two fires were made he would understand that there was serious news and would wish as soon as possible to learn details. Signalling across the St. Lawrence attained a much higher development than is found in Fraser's crude plan. Philippe Aubert de Gaspe tells how the people on the south shore could read what had happened on the north shore from Cap Tourmente to Malbaie. On St. John's eve, December 26th, the season of Christmas festivities, there was a general illumination. Looking then across the river to a line of blazing fires the news was easily understood. "At Les Eboulements eleven adults have died since the autumn, three of whom were in one house, that of Dufour. All are well at the Tremblays; but at Bonneau's some one is ill. At Belairs a child is dead,"—and so on. The key is simple enough. The situation of the fire would indicate the family to which it related. A fire lighted and kept burning for a long time meant good news; when a fire burned with a half smothered flame it meant sickness; the sudden extinguishing of the fire was a sign of death; as many times as it was extinguished so many were the deaths; a large blaze meant an adult, a small one a child. Before the days of post and telegraph these signals were used winter and summer; so great an obstacle to communication was the mighty tide of the St. Lawrence.[16]

At all seasons but especially in winter the news that reached Malbaie was of a very fragmentary character. With his kin in Scotland Nairne exchanged only an annual letter but since each side took time and pains to prepare it, the letter told more, probably, than would a year's bulk of our hurried epistles. Newspapers were few and dear and only at intervals did any come. Books too were scarce. Occasionally Nairne notes those that he thought of buying—St. Simon's "Memoirs;" an account of the Court of Louis XIV; "A Comparative View of the State and Facultys of Man with those of the Animal World;" "Elegant Extracts or Useful and Entertaining passages in prose," a companion volume to a similar one in poetry, and so on. He writes gratefully, in 1799, to a friend in Quebec, who had sent newspapers and sermons, both of which remotely different classes of literature had furnished "great entertainment." From Europe he is receiving the volumes of the new edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, still on the shelves at Murray Bay, and is thankful that they were not captured by the French. "The older I grow the fonder I am of reading and that book is a great resource." Our degenerate age gets little "entertainment" out of sermons and usually keeps an encyclopaedia strictly for "reference"; obviously Nairne read it.

The old soldier watched and commented upon developments which were the fruit of seed he himself had helped to sow. He had fought to win Canada for Britain; he had fought to crush the American Revolution. By 1800 he sees how great Canada may become and is convinced that yielding independence to the United States has not proved very injurious to Great Britain. Though, in a short time, the United States was to secure the great West by purchasing Louisiana from France, when Nairne died it had not done so and in 1800 he could say that the United States "are small in comparison of the whole of North America. They are bounded upon all sides and will be filled up with people in no very great number of years. Our share of North America is yet unknown in its extent. Enterprising people in quest of furs travel for years towards the north and towards the west through vast countries of good soil uninhabited as yet ... [except] for hunting, and watered with innumerable lakes and rivers, stored with fish, besides every other convenience for the use of man, and certainly destined to be filled with people in some future time. We have only [now] heard of one named Mackenzie[17] who is reported to have been as far as the Southern Ocean (from Canada) across this continent to the West." Long before Canada stretched from the Atlantic to the Pacific Nairne was thus dreaming of what we now see.

Of war, then raging, Nairne took a philosophic view. "War may be necessary," he writes in 1798, "for some very Populous countrys as any crop when too thick is the better of being thinned." But it occurred to him that the problem of over-population in Europe might have been solved in a less crude manner. "It is strange," he says, "that there should be so much of the best part of the globe still unoccupied, where the foot of man never trod, and in Europe such destruction of people. It is however for some purpose we do not, as yet, comprehend." Those were the days when Napoleon Bonaparte's star was rising and when, in defiance of England, led by Pitt, he smote state after state which stood in the path of his ambition. Nairne's friend and business agent James Ker, an Edinburgh banker, was obviously no admirer of Pitt, for he writes on July 20th, 1797, of the struggle with revolutionary France which, though it was to endure for more than twenty years, had already, he thought, lasted too long:

After a four years' war undertaken for the attainment of objects which were unattainable, in which we have been gradually deserted by every one of our allies except Portugal, ... too weak to leave us; and after a most shameless extravagance and Waste of the public money which all feel severely by the imposition of new and unthought of taxes, we have again sent an ambassador to France to try to procure us Peace.... If our next crop be as bad as our two last ones God knows what will become of us. If it were not for the unexampled Bounty and Charity of the richer classes the Poor must have literally starved, but we have been favoured with a very mild winter.

In 1798 when Napoleon led his forces to Egypt and disappeared from the ken of Europe, Nairne hopes devoutly that "he has gone to the Devil, or, which is much the same thing, among the Turks and Tartars where he and his army may be destroyed." After Nelson succeeded in his attack on the French fleet at the Battle of the Nile Nairne rejoices that his country is supreme on the sea, "By ruling the waves she will rule the wealth of the world not by plunder and conquest but by wisdom and commerce and increasing riches everywhere to the happiness of mankind." On March 20th, 1801, when Austria had just made with France the Peace of Luneville, Ker writes again to Nairne:

We live in the age of wonders, sudden changes and Revolutions. The French have now completely turned the tables on us. They have forced Austria to a disastrous peace and Russia, Prussia, Denmark and Sweden from being our friends and Allies are now uniting with our bitter foes for our destruction, so that from having almost all Europe on our side against France we have now the contest to support alone against her and almost all Europe and nothing prevents the ambitious French Republic from being conquerors of the world but our little Islands and our invincible fleets. Notwithstanding all this we do not seem afraid of invasion and a large fleet under Sir Hide Parker and Lord Nelson is preparing to sail for the Baltic to bring the northern powers to a sense of their duty, and to break in pieces the unnatural coalition with our inveterate foes, the foes of Religion, Property, true Liberty, which but for our strenuous efforts would soon nowhere exist on this Globe.

In spite of what Ker says as to no fear of invasion, such a fear grew really very strong in 1801, and, for a brief period, it seemed as if Murray Bay might become a refuge for Nairne's kindred in the distressed mother land. One of his sisters writes in an undated letter:

We are much obliged to you for the kind of reception you say we should have met with at Mal Bay had we fled there from the French and I do assure you ... it was for some time a very great comfort and relief to think we had resources to trust to. I for one, I am sure, was almost frightened out of my wits, for a visit from these monsters, even the attempt, tho' they had been subdued after landing, was fearsome. I suspect you might have had more of your friends than your own family to have provided for. The Hepburns I know turned their thoughts toward you and all of us determined to work for our bread the best way we could. But you might have no small addition to your settlers; some of us poor old creatures would have settled heavy enough I fear upon yourself and family. It is a fine place Mal Bay turned by your account. What a deal of respectable company. I am glad of it on your account. A very great piece of good fortune to get Col. Fraser so near; I wonder he does not marry Maidy, but she will think him too old. I think Christine may do a great deal worse than spend the summer if not more at Mal Bay. You are most amazingly indulgent to her. I wish she would make a grateful return by bestowing more of her company on her friends at home in a situation it would appear so pleasant. But she is a good kind-hearted Lassie after all and I suppose when she has got her full swing of Quebec she will be very well pleased to return home.

A legislature now sat at Quebec, the result of the new Constitutional Act passed in 1791, and Nairne might have become a member. Murray Bay then formed a part of what, with little fitness, had been called by the English conquerors the County of Northumberland, no doubt because it lay in the far north of Canada as Northumberland lies in the far north of England. Two members sat in the legislature for this county. "I never had any idea of trying to be one of them," writes Nairne in 1800, "but succeeded in procuring that honour for a friend Dr. Fisher, who resides in Quebec. He is rich and much flattered with it and is ready on all occasions to speak."

To Nairne, contrary to a general impression, the climate of Canada did not seem to grow milder as the land was cleared. In any case the blood of old age runs less hotly. Formerly the winter had its delights of hunting excursions but now, he writes, these are all over. "The passion I had formerly for hunting and fishing and wandering through the woods is abated.... What with the cold hand of old age my former Winter excursions into the woods seem impossible and no more now of fishing and hunting which formerly I esteemed so interesting a business." He writes again: "My employment is more in the sedentary way than formerly and what from calls in my own affairs and calls from people here in theirs, accounts to settle, &c., [I have] ... plenty of occupation. Besides being a Justice of the Peace and Colonel of Militia ... I employ myself without doors in farming, gardening, clearing and manuring land." If we may credit the words of Bishop Hubert of Quebec written just at this time (in 1794) the new liberties gained by the habitants did not make the seigneur's task easier. The good bishop makes sweeping charges of general dishonesty; of attempts to defraud the church of her tithe and the seigneurs of their dues; of bitter feuds between families and innumerable law suits. In such conditions Nairne, as a justice of the peace, would have his hands full.

His end was drawing very near. One of his sisters died in 1798. This brought sad thoughts but he wrote: "I am very thankful to have found in the world connexions who have produced such regards and sympathys. Time seems not to be going slowly now-a-days but running fast. I hope we are to have other times and to know one another hereafter." "I must make haste now," he wrote later, in 1801, "to finish all improvements here that may be possible as I will soon be finished myself. Crushed already under a load of years of 7 times 10 really I find the last 2 years ... heavier than 20 before that time." "The scenes of this life," he had written to his old friend and neighbour Malcolm Fraser "are continually varying like the elements, sometimes cloudy, sometimes sun shine; [it] never lasts long one way or the other till night soon comes and we must then lie down and die. Therefore all is vanity and vexation of spirit, but God will help us and most certainly some time or other bless and reward the friendly honest man."

His last letter to his Scottish relations was intended to be a farewell:

Colonel Nairne to his Sister Miss M. Nairne From Murray Bay, 20th April, 1802.

My Dear Madie,—

I shall see our friends in the world of spirits probably before any of you; whatever darkness we are in here I have always convinced myself that we shall meet again in a better place hereafter.

Although I have enjoyed good health till past 70 years of age, the agues of Holland and sometimes excessive fatigue have probably weakened parts of my inward machinery that they are now wore out and must soon finish their functions. I can have no reason to expect to live longer than our father; I am chiefly uneasy that the event may occasion grief to my sisters, yet it ought to be less felt my being at a distance; a poor affair to grieve when it must be all your fates to follow. I am happy that Mr. Ker understands my circumstances and my last will, and that he will be so good and so able to assist in settling it properly; I wish to follow his ideas therein in case of any difficulty, and I am likewise perfectly satisfied with all Mr. Ker's accounts with me. I write this letter to you to go by the first ship in case I should not be able to write later; I do not expect to be able to write to Robie Hepburn nor to Mr. Ker; nothing I can tell now from this country can entertain them; my mind is taken up with nothing but the Friendship, which they know.... So soon as the weather is warmer I intend to go to Quebec in order to obtain the best advice: I shall not personally be so conveniently situated there, as here. I am able yet to go out as far as a bank before the Door and to walk through the rooms; indeed the arrangements and conveniences of this house with the attendance and attention I receive are all in the best manner I can possibly desire; ... it's enough to say that were you here I think you would approve of them. Industry and neatness prevail and everything nesessary [is] foreseen and provided for. No wonder my wife and I agree so well now these thirty-five years as she happens to be equal in every moral attribute which I pretend to.... We are in friendship with everybody, because we do justice impartially and really without vanity have assisted many persons in forming farms and providing for the support of familys; although thereby not in the way of enriching ourselves it affords perhaps as much Satisfaction.

This place certainly thrives exceedingly; although we may by such exertions be recommending ourselves to the Father of all things, how poor they appear in my eyes having read lately the Newspapers. Most unreasonable are some men in Parliament to find fault with the ministry of Pitt and Dundass who have steered the Vessel of the State so successfully through such dangerous times and threatening appearances. Every Briton I think has reason to be proud of his Country which is raised higher than ever before not only in national Character but in its prospects of Commerce and Wealth by the Peace [the brief Peace of Amiens signed in March, 1802]. What prodigious honour and glory has been acquired and bestowed upon our Army of Egypt, exertions indeed on the most conspicuous theatre of the World and at the most conspicuous period of the world. We formerly thought ourselves sort of heroes by conquering Louisbourg and Quebec but nothing must be compared to that of Egypt.... The French troops have fought much better under their Diacal Republican government than under their King's and our troops not only fight equally well as formerly, but our Generals and Officers are much better writers; never have I read better wrote letters than those describing these renown'd events.

But pray allow me to sink into poetry to help to fill up this paper; ... let me transcribe a letter in verse which is handed me now by an old Soldier residing near us.[18] He received it from an acquaintance of his who is only a private soldier in the 26th Regiment. That Regt. is now gone home; ... should it be at Edinburgh pray invite James Stevenson to a dram of Whiskey for my sake; though I do not know the man we had served together in the American War and he shows the idea the private men had of me and how a man of a slender education (I believe from Glasgow) can make verses. The Canadians here, I believe, have the same opinion though they are very far from making verses upon any subject whatever; it is much more useful here to cut down trees which they can do with great dexterity.

Quebec, 25th April, 1800.

My worthy conty, gude Jock Warren, Thou's still jocose and ay auld farren, Gentle and kind, blythe, frank and free, And always unco' gude to me. And now thou's sold thy country ware And towards hame mean to repair.[19] Accept these lines although but weak And read them for thy Comrade's sake. May plenty still around thee smile And God's great help thy foes beguile, In Wisdom's path be sure to tread And her fair daughter Virtue wed. My compliments and love sincere To all our friends both here and there, But in particular to him That's tall in body, long in limb, Auld faithful Loyal, Johny Nairne, Lang may he count you his ain bairne; By his example still be sway'd; Be his good precepts still obeyed; Revere this good and worthy man And always do the best you can. This is my wish and expectation, God granting you and me salvation. We ance were young but now we're auld, Oour blood from heat commences cauld, A drop of whiskey warms the whole, Renews the body, cheers the soul; Observing still due moderation, In order to prevent vexation, Proceeding on with cautious care Till Death with his grim face appear; Then with a conscience, just and true See Heaven's Glory, in your View.