Reminiscences of a Long Life in Scotland, New Zealand

Robert Campbell

First published by Jolly and Braik in 1904

Digitised and made available online by the University of Auckland Libraries and Learning Services.

Epub © 2013 Early New Zealand Books Collection

ISBN 978-1-927289-50-1

[TITLE PAGES]

MR. ROBERT CAMPBELL, IN HIS NINETY-FIRST YEAR. OPENING ST. CLAIR BOWLING GREEN, 8TH OCT., 1904.

REMINISCENCES
OF
A Long Life
IN
SCOTLAND, NEW ZEALAND,
&c. &c.

FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION.

Dunedin:
JOLLY & BRAIK, MORAY PLACE.
1904.

[Page iii is blank]

[PREFACE]

PREFACE.

The following "Reminiscences" of the life of Mr Robert Campbell, St. Clair, Dunedin, N. Z., as written down by a very intimate friend, partly from diaries and partly from his own dictation, were not originally intended to be printed; but the writer thinks there is much in the little book which, to Mr Campbell's friends at anyrate, will be of very great interest. The short sketch entitled "Colonial Life in the Early Days" is very instructive, as showing the privations and hardships endured and difficulties overcome by the hardy pioneers of the settlement: when men, instead of growling about "hard times," bent circumstances to their wills rather than allow circumstances to bend their wills. People nowadays (young people especially) are more willing to spend than to earn and save money, and lives conducted on that principle are sure to end in material failure. Mr Campbell (and others like him), did not know and did not care about "eight hours a-day" and "half-holiday" movements, and showed their grit and sense by toiling manfully and living frugally when young, so that in old age they might attain to what Burns rightly describes as

... "The glorious privilege
O' bein' independent."

L. B. M.

Dunedin, Sept., 1894.

[Page v is blank]

YOUTH AND APPRENTICESHIP.

REMINISCENCES OF A LONG LIFE.

YOUTH AND APPRENTICESHIP.

Methinks it seems but yesterday
Since we were boys together.

I WAS born on the 27th September, 1814, in Thumble Street, Renton, Parish of Cardross, Dumbartonshire. When I was twenty months old my father died, and my mother removed to the village of Milton.

At four years I was sent to school, and had for a teacher an old hand-loom weaver, in whose trade there was so little doing that he had to find some other means of earning a livelihood. When I first went to school my dress was the kilt; but my aunt, whose husband was a captain, made me a present of a piece of nankeen, out of which my mother was to make me a suit of clothes. I was highly delighted, and felt that directly I got "a pair of breeks" I should be a man. My mother was very clever at every kind of needlework, and she very soon had an exceedingly pretty little rig-out ready for me. On going home from school one day, my mother got me into the clothes. I admired myself exceedingly, and then said: "I must go and show them to Mrs McLaughlan" – a friend who made much of me. I got safely to her house, and she told me how much she admired my suit, finishing by putting a "bawbee" in the pocket of my coat. On the way from her house there was a water-hole, and only a narrow path beside it to walk on. When I left her to return home she kept on talking as I went, and turning to answer her, I tripped in some way and fell into the water. What a screaming I set up! Mrs McLaughlan pulled me out and set me on my feet, and I ran to my mother as hard as I could, crying: "Oh, mother, my beauty is spoiled, my pride gone!" She

picked me up, took off my clothes, and again put me into my kilt. At the degradation of going back to petticoats I felt heart-broken, and hid for the rest of the afternoon, just keeking round the door as anyone came in. Next morning, when mother wanted me to get ready for school, I mutinied. We argued the point for some time, and I bolted into my grandmother's room. She, I think, must have heard me, because I had only got inside her door when she caught me up under her arm and carried me to the school, where she set me down in the middle of the room. I was a bit afraid of the master, but grandmother spoke to him, and I was all right. Anyhow, by next morning I had my clothes again, and felt "every inch a man."

At seven years our teacher had taught four of us all he could. He himself went daily to Dumbarton to the parish school to learn the rudiments of grammar, that in turn he might transmit his knowledge to us. In the meantime three of us were sent to the Milton Print Works as tearers. The fourth boy, who was the son of a miller, was sent to the school at Dumbarton, but my mother wanted my assistance, so my lot was the print works. I remained at the tearing about two and a half years, when I was put into the warehouse, where the cloth was finished and got ready to send to Glasgow. They frequently sent me to Glasgow with goods, and I must tell you about two or three of my trips there.

I still remember the first time I went to Glasgow. The carter took my goods to Douglas, where the ferry boat put them and me on board the steamer. When I reached my destination I had to hire a porter to take my packages to the warehouse. Of course I had a sum of money given me to defray all my expenses, and after discharging the little debts, I had, when I got back to the warehouse, 1s 6d to the good. I handed it to the manager, who looked at it and put it into his pocket with the words: "Thank you, Robin, that is very honest; if you remind me on pay-day, I'll give you twopence for yourself." Pay-day came, but he forgot his promise, and I would not tell

him, so I never saw the bawbees. That was my first lesson in dishonesty. The next time I went I had, as usual, my money for expenses. After transacting my business, I found I had sixpence left. I got on the steamer to come home, where I fell in with a "basket-man," and began overhauling his wares, which consisted largely of books, one of which I saw was a Ready Reckoner, and I thought, "If I only had that." I turned it over and over, and at last said: "What is the price of this book?" He said: "I'll let you have it for sixpence." I thought of the coin in my pocket; the temptation was too strong for me, so I took the money from my pocket and put it into his hand, getting the book in exchange. I had to pass the captain, though, at the ferry, for he should have had the sixpence. I tried to shun him, but he saw me, and shouted: "Come here, sir; where are you going?" but I jumped into the boat, and as he was on the paddle-box, he could not get near me. He was a queer fellow, this captain. He had been a carrier, and when any other steamer was coming up with or passing his craft, he would stamp his feet on the paddle-box and shout: "Get up, you lazy brute!" I may add that the Ready Reckoner I bought that day I have still in good condition, although seventy years have come and gone since then.

On my next trip I had a large parcel of goods, and had to get a special porter to hire a cart for me. He did so, and helped me to mount to the top of the bale. When we reached the warehouse it was almost dark. Mr Patrick Mitchell, the proprietor, was standing there. He said: "Who came with those goods?" The clerk (Mr Reid) replied: "Robin, sir," and pointed to me on the top. He said: "Ah, I thought he would not be far away. That's right, Robin, always look well after things entrusted to you." I went in to wait for Mr Reid – the clerks being kept late that night. I sat in the master's arm chair before a roaring fire, and as I was always a grand sleeper, went straight for the Land of Nod. Mr Mitchell came in, pulled my ear to waken me, and said: "Why are you not away home?" and Mr Reid replied: "Oh, he is waiting for me; he is coming

to my mother's home to stay to-night," and very kind to me she was.

I remained in this situation till I was between twelve and thirteen, when my people took me away and put me to work in a shop in South Side, Glasgow. I did not like shop life, and only remained there about nine months. When I returned home, I went to work in the field, and before long I was apprenticed to the calico printing. We were all on piece work in those days. The term of my apprenticeship was seven years, and according to the indentures, for every shilling we earned we got sixpence.

I liked the business very well, but a week or two after I had signed the contract, a blacksmith offered to teach me his trade. I was very disappointed, for at that time I thought I preferred that calling. Some members of my mother's family followed it, and that may have accounted tor my liking. Anyhow, the offer came too late, and I stayed where I was.

I was always fond of reading, and about this time the Waverley novels were being issued, and I was fortunate enough to get them from Salmond's Circulating Library. They were a rare treat to me.

One Sunday a boy called Bob Mason asked me to go for a walk. I had just got a nice book from my aunt, entitled "Elizabeth, or the Exiles of Siberia," which I took with me. We sat on a stone, and there we remained till I had finished the book. Me enjoyed it as much as I did. Often of an evening I sat on the Castle Rock, Douglas, and read aloud to my companions till darkness obscured my vision. On the very spot where we sat there is now a monument erected to the memory of Henry Bell, the inventor and proprietor of the first steamboat (called the Comet) which plied on the river Clyde, or on European waters.

During this time there were great commotions concerning the progress of the Reform Bill. We had great meetings, and still greater processions, and Mr Andrew Muter, late proprietor of the Milton Print Works, presented us with a blue silk flag, with the figure of Justice (a woman, blindfolded, holding in her

hand the scales) painted thereon, and the motto: "Justice has granted what oppression long denied!" Great excitement prevailed as to whether the Bill would go through Parliament or not. The election day came round, and we all set out for Dumbarton – the Court-house there being the polling booth. All the trades marched in procession, carrying banners with the mottoes they thought most suitable to the occasion. When we were standing outside the Court-house, two carpenters stood near me holding a stick, with a board on the end, on which was printed, "Down with Boroughmongers!" An old gentleman came down the stair, and he being what they called a "Borough-monger," they dropped the board on his head as he passed. It stunned him, and he never recovered from the shock – dying about a month afterwards.

There was great rejoicing when it became known that the Bill had gone through. Everyone seemed wild with delight. That Bill made the law of the land what two men were hanged and one beheaded for exactly ten years previously. Things went on pretty well till 1834, when men got dissatisfied; they wanted all the trade to be paid alike throughout Scotland. The agitation led to a strike in the end. It caused a great deal of hardship, and much wickedness. Many men up in years who went out in this strike never got employment at their trade again. Altogether it was a dreadful time, and caused boundless misery throughout the country. Our whole village was broken up. The older men who went out were not taken on again, and being unable to get any other work, were compelled to sell their small properties and remove to some other district. Although we were working, trade was not good, and it did not improve. It went from bad to worse, and in the end there was very little to do.

FIRST AND SECOND SEA VOYAGES.

FIRST AND SECOND SEA VOYAGES.

A strong nor'wester's blowing, Bill:
Hark! don't ye hear it roar, now;
Lor' help 'em, how I pities all
Unhappy folks on shore now!

TRADE being so very bad, and as I never had any inclination for idleness, I shipped on board the Wolf's Cove, bound for Dalhousie in North America, to load timber. Nothing remarkable happened during the voyage. One young man took fever, while an elderly one was seized with lumbago, but both recovered satisfactorily. We made the return trip without any adventures, arrived safely in Liverpool, and I made the best of my way home. What I saw of North America did not impress me favourably. Butcher meat was scarce, and of very poor condition. Salmon was the only plentiful article of food, an immense fish being procurable for one shilling. When I reached home I was offered a table at the Dalmonach Print Works, where I remained for some years.

During my stay at Dalmonach Print Works I took to myself a wife – marrying, on the 8th November, 1839, Christina McArthur. In the same year I organised a boat-racing club for pulling boats, calling it "The Loch Lomond Regatta Club." I acted as secretary, and the following were the committee: James Miller, John Stewart, Geo. Richardson, Ewing Hamilton, John Willie, John Taylor, Norman Nicholson, and William Rutherford. The first regatta was a very small affair, very few boats being entered for it. My crew was in for almost every race, and my boat (the Royal Tar, white flag with a red ball) was very successful, and got in first in several races.

After some time trade again became very quiet, and I shipped for the Mediterranean in the Chieftain, bound for Sicily. We called at Malta, where we stayed for two months, having lost our fore-top mast in a levanter. The weather was splendid while there, so that we had every opportunity of view-

ing this quaint, old-fashioned town. I went to St. John's Church, a building well worth looking at. It was built by the Crusaders and endowed by them, and is therefore a very wealthy church. The paintings and statuary are magnificent. The roof is built in arches, and each arch is decorated with a picture of some Bible scene. The figures are life size, and one – the picture of Herod's decree to slay all the male children – is truly wonderful. A mother is represented sitting by the fire nursing her child; two men come in, each with a halberd; she lifts the skirt of her dress and throws it over the child, thinking to hide it, but in her agitation she leaves a bit of the leg exposed. Poor mother! the expression on her face is so terrible in its fear, and yet so natural, as also are the faces of the men. The furniture and details of the room are worked out so perfectly, that, with the addition of the faces and figures, one can hardly think it is not a reality, instead of being only a picture. It is fifty-two years since I gazed on it, and to-day it is as fresh in my memory as if my visit were but yesterday. Another painting shows Herodias waiting at the prison gate for the head of John the Baptist. There are two ruffians holding John, while one is cutting off his head. This picture is also fearfully real like – the convulsed features and eyes starting out of the sockets of the victim; the fierce looks of the ruffians; and on the other side of the slightly open door Herodias, with the trencher in her hand, and the malignant look of exultant triumph on her face. A magnificent piece of statuary is Mary nursing the child Jesus, and John the Baptist (himself a small child) playing with the baby's toes. The whole group is so real and life-like that one can almost imagine he hears the child cooing, and sees it kicking up its heels in play.

Another study I should like to describe stands within the silver gates of the altar. It is the Baptism in the Jordan. Jesus is standing up to the ankles in water; John the Baptist a little higher, on a large stone, with a shell of water in his hand. He is pouring the water over the head of Jesus. This group, I should think, would greatly shake the faith of a

believer in dipping, and would convince him of the utter fallacy of the thing. I used to take up my position as close as possible to the silver gates of the altar, being very doubtful as to whether they were genuine silver, but I found they were so.

The dress of the priests was very gorgeous. At High Mass, on the table before them, is a representation of the Crucifixion – Jesus on the Cross, and the twelve apostles near by. These figures are fifteen or eighteen inches high, and said to be in solid gold, as were also the candlesticks. The figures were originally life-size, and there was a golden as well as a silver gate to the altar. The value of jewellery belonging to the church was fabulous, and when Napoleon took the island and saw all this grandeur, he coveted it. He said the apostles were not fulfilling their destiny, viz., to preach the Gospel to all nations. As they had been there long enough, he would send them to France. He accordingly put all the jewellery and valuables he could collect on board a brig, and sent her off, but she foundered in the Gulf of Lyons, and all was lost. I saw in a paper not many years ago that a syndicate had been formed to get some one to dive and try to recover some of this great wealth. The floor of St. John's is laid in black and white marble, in the form of a hexagon, I think. There are no seats in the edifice – those who do not stand or kneel carry their stools with them.

We were in Malta, too, during the time of the Carnival, which lasts for three days. It is the continuation of an old heathen custom, held in honour of the goddess Flora. It is a time of license and wickedness – no sin being looked upon as an offence. We also went to see the cave of St. Paul. It is four miles from the town, so we hired horses and rode. We were only charged 2s 6d, which was very reasonable. Every half mile of the journey you came upon a statue of the saint. A small boy ran beside us all the way, acting as guide.

There is an arch at the entrance to each street in the town, and just inside these the men sleep – they never know any other bed. In fact, the poverty that exists is dreadful. The

rich and poor women wear the same style of dress, but the wealthy have richer materials. The women are extremely graceful, and their dress enhances their appearance, being elegant like the wearers. As showing the state of things, we were loading wheat for Liverpool, and the men employed to help us received only 4 1/2d per day, and all the food they had for a meal was a raw turnip – not very large – and half a glass of black stroke, an inferior kind of wine. Fruit was very cheap. One could get a hatful for a penny. The harbour of Valetta, being the headquarters of the warships in the Mediterranean, is necessarily very lively, especially on Sunday.

We said farewell to Malta and sailed for Gibraltar. Going along the African coast, opposite Tangiers we became becalmed, and fears were entertained of our drifting on the shore. The wind got up, however, and saved us. As we neared the Rock, we saw a cat's-paw, and before long the wind blew with such fury that we thought the masts would be out of the ship. We furled all sails and hove to, and were driven by the gale as far as the coast of Malaga. It took us just a week to reach Gibraltar. The wind blew so dreadfully after we got into the harbour, before we dropped anchor, that I had to stand with the main topsail halliard in my hand all night, sometimes pulling it in and sometimes letting it fly, whichever suited the wind. The weather settled in the morning, and we got snugly anchored.

Being a Sunday, we went ashore and saw the parade, after which we began to notice things around us, and we were very much struck with the different nationalities represented. The Moors took our fancy, being a very handsome race. Afterwards I took a walk through the Gardens, admiring the many beautiful flowers, and went up the hill to see the stalactite rock. The soldiers used to break off pieces of this rock, and make them into all sorts of nicknacks for sale – that being the reason for putting the very strong gates at the entrance to the grounds. The rocks are really wonderful. One sees shapes of all sorts – for instance monkeys, as natural-looking as if they had just fallen from a tree. On the Promenade there is a statue of

Admiral Duncan. lie has a large key in his hand, and a forge at his feet, representing his withstanding the siege. Provisions were getting low, and the Spaniards were starving them. Knowing that surrender must come, the Admiral had decided to give up the key, and had started on his way with his officers to do so, when they met a soldier, who was intoxicated. They accosted him, and in turn he asked where they were going. They told him, and he replied, using very unparliamentary words: "Give it to them red hot!" The officer ordered his arrest for offensive language, at the same time telling Duncan what the man said. He wondered what his meaning could be, and when the soldier became sober the Admiral asked him to explain. He said he meant that they should make the balls red-hot and fire on the ships – the cold shot would not penetrate the cork with which the vessels were coated. Admiral Duncan took his advice, with the result that the enemy's ships were burnt, and the "key" of Gibraltar was retained by the British.

I pulled two bits of geranium, and was fortunate enough to get them alive to Scotland.

I also examined the burying-ground. The graves of those who fell at Trafalgar were beautifully decorated with shells, which were built round the graves in a very picturesque fashion. Although charmed with all I had seen in the way of places, and the different dresses of the people, I could not help feeling great admiration for the 26th Cameron Highlanders. They made a perfect picture, for they were handsome men. Amongst a motley throng of Greeks, Turks, Moors, Spaniards, Russians, &c, the Highlanders, in their national dress, with their fine, stalwart figures, stood conspicuously alone.

At sunset a gun is fired, and everyone must leave the Gardens or be locked in till the gun is fired again at sunrise. When I got outside the gate, and was speaking with a soldier, a Captain Macpherson came up. I had met him in Malta, and as we stood chatting some Yankees came along who were slightly intoxicated. They were very noisy and offensive, and

we complained of their behaviour. The soldier seized them and pitched them over the jetty into a boat.

I took a walk to St. Anthony's Cave. This is supposed to be the outlet of a submarine passage from Ape Hill on the African side. It is also supposed to account for the monkeys sometimes to be seen on the Rock, as it is a well-known fact that there are no monkeys in Spain, and that is the only feasible mode of their transmission.

The people born on the Rock are called "Rock Scorpions," and cannot compare with the Spaniards. Seen riding, though, they look very well, their gay dress adding very much to their appearance.

When the first fair wind arose, about a hundred of us got up sail to take our departure from the Key of the Mediterranean. A man-of-war called the Ganges was also waiting, and we derived great pleasure from watching their manoeuvres. We all got out together, and it was a pretty sight. It was a lovely night; the moon shimmering on the water, tipping it with silver, and the twinkling stars reflected in the depths below; Ape Hill in the distance, rising darkly above the sea; and, lastly, all the ships clustering round the warship reminded one of a duck and ducklings. By daylight we were all scattered, and when we got to the English Channel, the last of the fleet – a Dutch brig – left us. We sailed on until we got to the channel of the Mersey, when the pilot came aboard. All went well, and at last we were safely berthed in Liverpool Docks.

After spending some time in Liverpool we set sail for Glasgow, having rather a rough passage. The wind blew a perfect gale when we were off the Isles of Craig, and as there were only three of us aboard, we were not at all sorry when the river pilot came on and took us to Glasgow. At that time my home was in Alexandria, but when the ship was lying at Glasgow I lived principally on board.

VOYAGE TO THE WEST INDIES.

VOYAGE TO THE WEST INDIES.

With the blue above, and the blue below,
And silence wheresoe'r I go.

I HAD decided to go another trip in the good ship Chieftain – this time bound for the West Indies. We made a start on Thursday, 26th May, 1843, and were towed to the Tail of the Bank by the steamer Defiance, and weighed anchor on Saturday, 28th. We came to the same night in Rothesay Bay, and lay there till Thursday, 2nd June, when we again weighed anchor and proceeded to sea. We had baffling winds till Sunday, when we got a breeze that took us clear of land – Tory Island, on the north-west coast of Ireland, being the last bit of Great Britain we saw.

Friday, 10th. – We spoke the barque Kilblain, of Greenock (lat. 49. 46 N., long. 20 W.), from Bombay, bound for Liverpool. Same afternoon we spoke a Belgian brig bound for Antwerp, from Rio de Janiero, eighty days out.

Saturday, 11th. – A fresh breeze from the southward. We were employed till midnight, alternately taking in and letting out sail.

Sunday, 12th. – A light breeze and a sail in sight, standing to the eastward.

Monday, 13th. – Fresh breeze and heavy showers of rain. Same weather till

Monday, 29th, when we had a nice breeze and fair weather. At 2 p. m. a ship hove in sight; at 4 p. m. found her to be the Robert Irsie, of New York, outward bound with Irish passengers. Same day sighted one of the Western Islands (on the weather bow) called Floris. We tacked ship to go to windward of it.

Thursday, 23rd. – Caught a porpoise, out of which we got about a gallon of oil. I shall give a description of this animal or fish – it may be useful to some of you. It is more of an animal than a fish, being warm-blooded, and bringing forth its

young alive. It is likewise obliged to come to the surface to breathe. It has a long snout, and varies from 5 to 7 feet in length, while it has two holes in the crown of its head for breathing purposes. Its inside resembles that of a pig, and the flesh is coarse, but eats well if properly cooked.

Friday, 24th. – We saw a few flying fish. They are about the size of a herring, and can fly from fifty to sixty yards, or just until their wings dry, when they fall into the water again. A shark showed himself alongside, and in a short time he was hooked and brought aboard, he was a young one, of the blue species, and measured 8ft. 3in. from the snout to the tail.

Thursday, 30th. – A brig appeared in sight. We kept away to speak, but on nearing us she kept off to avoid us. We hoisted our ensign; she followed suit, showing herself to be a Portuguese. Her decks were covered with men. At the same time we saw a brig standing the same way, with all sail set. We bore down to speak, but she kept on her course, although within half-a-mile of us. She signalled, however, and we found her to be a transport ship of war in pursuit of the brig, which we supposed to be a slaver or a pirate.

July 2nd. – A sail in sight on the starboard bow, going to the north-west. We've had a fine breeze and warm weather for the last eight days. Employed rattling down and tarring the rigging.

July 3rd. – Wrote to my wife the following letter: –

Ship Chieftain,
July 3rd, 1842.

MY DEAR WIFE,

It is Sabbath, and I hope you are enjoying that great blessing which God hath bestowed on sinful man – the Sabbath Day. I also trust that yon enjoy the privilege of going to church, and when there that you remember him who is far away from you upon the restless ocean, and who has not the privilege of meeting with the people of God in His house on Sunday. Although I have not that blessing, I am not left without instances of reflection on the Great Creator of the Universe. When I look round me in the morning, in the evening, or at midnight, I can see objects for deep thought. In the morning I see the sun rise out of the waters, and darting his rays of light through the dark clouds that hide the face of Heaven as with a curtain. How beautiful it is to behold the mountain tops on a summer's morning bespangled with the

dews of Heaven, or to hear the birds sing in the woods, or see the lambs skip in the grassy meadows! Alas! how different is all at sea. It is true we see the sun rise in all his splendour, but no matter how far we look, we see nothing but the dark blue waters beneath us, and the sky over our heads. We look back to see whence we came, but there is no track left; we look forward – there is no opening for the eye to perceive the destined port. On right, on left, it is all the same – all is obscured from our vision. There is no music save the shrill whistle of the wind and the hoarse roar of the foaming billows, and we must toss about and take the weather as it is given us. How like the fate of man on earth. He is, as it were, planted there, and he knoweth nothing. He looks round, and he knows not whence became, and none can tell him whither he shall return. Yet he has a voyage to make in this life, be it smooth and prosperous, or rough and adverse. He likewise has a certain course to steer, a certain Book of Directions to abide by, deviating from which he will surely perish. All may be considered as the work of a day. Time is short – therefore improve it; for –

"Life is but a summer's day;
Some only break their fast, and then away;
Others stay dinner, and depart full fed,
The longest life but sups, and goes to bed."

Your Loving Husband,
R. CAMPBELL.

Sunday, 10th. – A brig in sight on the starboard bow. 4 p. m. – The Island of Guadaloupe in sight, distant about fifteen miles, being first land sighted of the West Indies. This island is the most important of the French possessions in the West Indies. Part of it is low, and of coral formation. The other portion is traversed by volcanic mountains – the highest being La Soufriere ("The Sulphur Mine.") Somewhere about 5,497 feet, earthquakes are of frequent occurrence. Sugar and coffee are exported. It was discovered by Columbus in 1493, but was not colonised by the French till 1635. Although it repeatedly fell into the hands of England during her wars with France, it was finally ceded to the latter country in 1816.

Monday, 11th. – At daylight a schooner in sight going to the northward; also the Island of Antagua on the starboard bow. 8 a. m. – A brig standing to northward, and a barque to the southward. A small island in sight, name unknown. All hands employed painting the inside of the ship, from the truck to the deck.

Tuesday, 12th. – All hands got a glass of grog for the first

time since we entered the West Indies. We got it, I suppose, because a man got sick painting in the sun.

Wednesday, 13th. – Finished painting, and no grog.

5 p. m. – The island of San Domingo in sight, and another small one.

Saturday, 16th. – Came in sight of the Island of Jamaica. At 4 p. m. hove to for a pilot, but as none came off, we proceeded under the direction of an old sailor called James. As we rounded Port Royal Point a black pilot came on board. At 6 p. m. we brought up in Port Royal Bay, furled sails, and set the watch.

Sunday, 17th, 5 a. m. – The pilot came on board. We have short, loosed sails, and get ready for the sea breeze, which comes up every morning after breakfast, to take us up to Kingston. 2 p. m. – Brought up in the harbour, furled sails, and put the long-boat out.

Monday, 18th. – Got all ready for going alongside wharf. On Wednesday hauled in to wharf, and began to discharge.

Sabbath, 24th. – Got rigged out and went on shore to have a view of Kingston. It is a fiat place, with narrow, confined streets, and shakily-built houses, raised on piles about two feet from the ground, for fear of being deluged by the rain in the wet season. It has a gaol, Police Court-house, play house, Post Office, and churches in abundance. There is a large square with a chapel on the east side, the theatre on the south, and an English Church on the north, into which I went after rambling about the place for a while. I heard a sermon from the words, "To be carnally minded is death, but to be spiritually minded is life eternal." I next went to the Methodist Chapel. There being no sermon at the time, I got in to look round the building. I went into the school, where I saw a motley group of children of all nations and colours, from the pale-faced Spaniard to the jet black African. The teacher was explaining about Achan stealing the wedge of gold and burying it in his tent. The lesson was taught in a way I did not approve. Had he taught them about humanity and kindness one to another

from such stories as the Good Samaritan, or Christ raising the widow's son, instead of explaining the methods of stealing, and the terrors of the devil and hell, until they all sat with mouth and eyes distended to the utmost, and their hearts ready to jump out of their places, it would have been more to the purpose. The customs of the people resemble those of the English in many ways. Their head-dress consists chiefly of a handkerchief tied round the head carelessly, and a broad-brimmed straw hat above it. In their walk they are slothful, and unpleasant to look at, with as much pride as a he-goat or a Highland policeman. English people become as bad as the natives for sloth and laziness after living here for any length of time. They lose all conceit of themselves, and have no regard for here or hereafter.

We were busy discharging all the week until Friday, when we hauled out to the roadstead to wait for a cargo. On Wednesday Alex. Smith, one of the sailors, left and joined the magnificent man-of-war guardship at Port Royal, and on Monday the commander came on board and demanded his wages and what clothes he had left. On Tuesday, 2nd Aug., a new second mate (Chas. Fraser) came on board and entered on his duties.

Sabbath, 7th, 10 a. m. – Very warm and sultry, and no sea breeze. 11 a. m. – Went on board the Tay to go for a walk with the carpenter. 1 p. m. -Went on shore and walked a mile or two, but a fearful thunderstorm came on, and we had to turn and seek shelter. I gave him the letter I had written at sea for my wife.

Tuesday, 9th. – Hauled in to Mr Fotheringham's wharf to discharge stones, and take in a cargo for London.

Wednesday, 10th. – Robert Stuart, cook, knocked off work.

Thursday, 11th. – Took in five casks of sugar.

Friday, 12th. – R. Stuart went to Port Royal and joined the Hornet, man-of-war schooner.

Sabbath, 14th, 5 a. m. – Two hands went in the jolly-boat with the captain and a few friends, including ladies, a pleasure trip to Dockfort, for the purpose of bathing. 10 a. m. – Went

on board the barque Heart of Oak, and dined with the chief mate, Mr Groundwater. Afterwards went on shore to the barracks, and had a glass of grog with the sergeant-major of the 2nd Royal West India Rifles.

Tuesday, 16th. – The Tay steamer arrived with mails, but no letter for Bob.

Wednesday, 17th. – The Tay sailed for Carthagena, on the Spanish Main.

Thursday, 18th, 9 a. m. – The Hornet came alongside with R. Stuart for his clothes and wages. He got the former, but not the latter. The officer refused to take a draft on P. Denny, of Dumbarton, and said he would send the commander to interview the captain.

Friday, 19th. – Very warm and sultry. Employed stowing sugar and logwood. At 2 p. m. W. Turnbell struck work, being a little tipsy.

Saturday, 20th. – Took on board from the Sarah Ann eight tons of logwood. 4 p. m. – A policeman came on board and took Turnbell to prison.

Sabbath, 21st. – Went on shore to see Turnbell. Was admitted to his cell. Afterwards had a walk in the country. 8 p. m. – Went ashore with supper for Turnbell.

Monday, 2nd. – Took on board five hogsheads of sugar.

Tuesday, 23rd. – Arrived, the Tay from Carthagena. At 7 p. m. went on board her for the carpenter (Wm. Alexander), the 2nd engineer (Mr Henry), the 2nd steward (Alex. Lindsay), and brought them on board the Chieftain by the mate's orders. We had a jovial time with Scotch songs, &c, until the cocks began to crow.

Wednesday, 24th. – Aching heads and no cure. 6 a. m. – Was ordered in the jolly-boat to take a lady and gentleman to Dockfort for a pleasure trip, for which my mate and I got one shilling each.

Thursday, 25th. – Employed turning in and seizing afresh the main rigging. 7 p. m. – Went on board the Tay with a letter for Home. The mate accompanied me, and we spent a

pleasant time with the former-mentioned gentlemen, returning to our ship at midnight, "as tight as daisies."

Friday, 26th. – The Tay sailed for Turk's Island to meet the English mails.

Saturday, 27th. – Employed scraping the quarter deck. After breakfast took in and stowed away six tierces of sugar. After dinner went on board the Ann Isabella smack for 360 cocoa-nuts for stowage.

Sunday, 28th, 6 a. m. – Was roused by the mate asking me if I had heard any one on board during the night, as the fresh beef had disappeared. We were therefore deprived of our Sunday dinner to feed those who were less deserving – or, at least, in less need – than we. At 2 p. m. went on shore to see Bill in the work-house, but could not be admitted without an order from a magistrate.

Monday, 29th – In the forepart of the day I was engaged caulking the jolly-boat; afterwards setting up the fore and main top mast riggings.

Tuesday, 30th. – Got on board four casks of water; afterwards employed scraping and holy-stoning the quarter deck, and various other jobs.

Wednesday, 31st. – Employed painting and varnishing the quarter deck.

Friday, 2nd. – Took on six hogsheads and twenty barrels of sugar. Same day, arrived the Tay with the English mails, but no letter for me. At night went on board the Tay to see some friends.

Thursday, September lst. – Took on board three puncheons of rum and four casks of water.

Saturday, 3rd. – Hauled out to the stream, and got ready to go to Port Anderson to fill up. 2 p. m. – Got under way, and at 4 p. m. brought up in Port Anderson Bay. 8 p. m. – Went on shore with some quality.

Sunday, 4th. – Went on shore with the captain in the boat to Port Anderson. Afterwards came on board, and moved the ship further from the shore. 2 p. m. – Went on shore and took

a number of gents to Port Royal, and was handsomely rewarded with a glass of porter for pulling them five or six miles in a breeze of wind.

Tuesday, 6th. – At 3 p. m. the captain came on board and had a row with the mate about a board being off the gangway.

Thursday, 8th. – Got no cargo. Blowing a gale of wind, and raining in torrents.

Saturday, 10th. – Took on 24 puncheons of rum, and three hogsheads and five tierces of sugar.

Sunday, 11th. – Went on shore for the captain, who had been on shore all night, and every night except Wednesday, since we came from Kingston.

Monday, 12th. – No cargo, and the second mate knocked off, being sick.

Tuesday, 13th. – When all hands were knocked up, it was found that the steward had made his escape during the night, with his luggage. 8 a. m. – The second mate went away, pretending sickness, and did not return.

Wednesday, 14th. – A man came on board by the name of William Clark, from the barque Levenside, of Glasgow. Same night Wm. Turnbell came on board with the captain to get his belongings. He had just completed his sentence of twenty-one days in the House of Correction.

Thursday, 15th. – The day appointed for sailing, but the vessel not being full, it was postponed for a few days.

Friday, 16th. – Went in the jolly-boat with the captain, and took W. Turnbell with us to join the barque Ida, of London. Went on board the Alexander, of Liverpool, out of which the skipper shipped two men. We took them on shore, and were to take them to our ship; waited until 4 p. m., and as they did not come then, the captain gave me 2s 6d to get something to eat. Afterwards set sail for Port Henderson, a distance of nine miles.

Saturday, 17th, 8 a. m. – Went to Kingston for the captain and two men. 11 a. m. – Went on board the Alexander and got the men, John Hartie and Hendry. Got money and went on

shore to buy the sea stock of vegetables. 5 p. m. – Set sail, with two gentlemen, for Port Henderson.

Sunday, 18th. – - After filling up the vessel, went on shore with the stevedore and his crew. Afterwards went on board the Electo, sloop-of-war, and was quite satisfied with the man-of-war service. Saw a young man on board who had been flogged twice in one week. The blood was still trickling down his trousers.

Monday, 19th. – Went to Kingston with the captain, four hands in the boat. After buying a few things we set sail, and took a gentleman to Port Henderson, landing him at the fort called the "Twelve Apostles" (so named on account of having twelve big guns mounted). He gave me a shilling. We went to a tavern to invest it, where I got into conversation with the hostess, and found her to be a descendant of the Campbells of Argyle, her maiden name being Alice Campbell. From her I got many good wishes, and a speedy return to my native country.

Tuesday, 20th. – Got all ready for sea. Got under weigh, and sailed out to Port Royal; brought to and waited for the captain to come on board. At 7 p. m. he came, but went on shore again to Port Royal for a pass.

A DISMAL VOYAGE.

A DISMAL VOYAGE.

WEDNESDAY, 21st. – At 3 p. m. got under weigh, and proceeded to sea. 7 a. m. – The pilot left us. Looking back, I took a long farewell of the town of Kingston, and old Port Royal.

Saturday, 24th. – Lost sight of the Island of Jamaica, which was no sorrow to me.

Tuesday, 27th. – Passed Cape Antona, in the Island of Cuba.

Wednesday, 28th. -The wind blew a gale, and the rain came down in torrents. We went through it sometimes under closely-reefed topsails, and at other times unable to show a stitch of canvas. Since then our lives have been truly miserable till to-day (Sunday, 2nd October).

We have had many joyless days, and more dismal nights. How disheartening it is to see the lightning flashing round on all sides, and the thunder rolling overhead the whole night through. The morning brings little comfort – a troubled sea and a black, terrific sky. In the dark the ocean looks like a plain in a snow-storm. The eye can see nothing but the white-topped waves, driven furiously along by the ruthless winds. In a word, it is beyond my pen to describe it, but in it I can behold the presence of an Almighty God; and may this be beneficial to me here and hereafter. If I be wrong in believing that the souls of men are immortal, I please myself in my mistake; nor while I live shall I ever choose that this opinion wherewith I am so much delighted shall be wrested from me. But if at death I am to be annihilated, as some minute philosophers imagine, I am not afraid lest these wise men, when extinct too, should laugh at my error.

Yesterday we spoke the schooner Lapwing, of New York, from Carthagena to New York, with all on board sick except the captain and two or three passengers. Gale still blowing.

Monday, 3rd. – Gale raging again in all its fury.

Wednesday, 5th. – Spoke the schooner Mary Hutton, of Philadelphia, from Mobile bound for New York. During the hurricane we had to be tied to the wheel for our watch – four hours – and for nine days and nine nights this occurred. We never had our clothes off. Fortunately I had some rum of my own, and I took it made thick with sugar, which kept me alive. In the fury of the gale the forecastle hatch was nailed down, and we were obliged to feel for the softest plank on the cabin floor to lie down upon, or the dryest spot on deck, to get a little rest, as sleep was out of the question, and, as I said before, our clothes wet through and never off our backs. Had it been cold instead of warm weather it would have been serious for us. We were nearly worn out as it was.

Friday, 7th, 6 a. m. – Saw the Island of Cuba, that portion called Havanna. A steady breeze and hue weather. Letter to my wife: – -

Brig Chieftain,
October 7th, 1841.

MY DEAR WIFE,

Now that I am a little relaxed from toil, I embrace the opportunity with pleasure of dedicating a letter to you, who are ever in my thoughts, be the wind and weather what they will.

But what I am to write about is the question. Anyhow, I have commenced, so must say something. To give you an account of this passage, so far as it has gone, and the present state of my feelings, will be my first object.

It is nineteen days since we left the Island of Jamaica, and we are still in the Gulf of Florida; and, if we have not better fortune, will have a long passage before we reach London. But I hope we shall make up for all this delay yet. This is rather a trying time with us, and enough to sicken anyone of the sea. We have been nine days in a gale of wind – and such a gale I should never like to see again. Old, experienced men on board said it was part of a hurricane. The sea ran mountains high, and was most terrible to look upon. At night the sky and sea appeared to be at war with each other. What with the thunder and lightning above, and the hoarse roar of the waters beneath (which seemed every moment to close over our heads), the timid were made to shake, and the brave stand still and think of things that perhaps they had never thought of before. Then is the time, my dear, for a reflective mind, and then the time to behold the wondrous workings of an Almighty God. Now the storm has ceased, and this is a beautiful day. All is quiet and sunshiny, and the sea almost as smooth as glass. What a contrast to last Sabbath! Excuse me, Teeney, but I cannot describe it. It is too hard a task for me at present, only there is a great lesson

to be learned from it, which I will teach you, please God, when we meet. I am only very middling in bodily health, being very much tormented with boils on my legs, caused by being kept so long on salt meat and bad provisions. Indeed, the food is so bad that we cannot make a meal when it is put before us. The bread is full of maggots, and the peas, rice, bailey, and flour are all alike; so that it takes us longer to pick out the live stock than to eat our meals. I am getting very thin, and by the time I get home, will be about as fat as a kitchen poker. I hope you have got some potatoes and green kale in reserve for me.

This is the fortieth day since we left Jamaica, and only little more than halfway, and very little to keep life in a bottle of water. No soup for dinner – only bread and salt beef, which makes us very thirsty; but please God we may soon reach London. I am almost sickened of the sea, which I think is no wonder, seeing what I have suffered this voyage. I trust you are in good health, although I cannot boast much of that blessing myself. Trusting to meet you soon (God willing),

I remain,
Your affectionate husband,
ROBERT CAMPBELL.

Saturday, 8th. – In company with four or five vessels, one an American barque, which we signalled. Gave all hands a glass of grog, it being the anniversary of my wedding day. They all wished us many and happy days to enjoy each other's society.

Monday, 10th. – Spoke an American barque called the Claremont, of Thomastown, from Laguina to New York, out twenty-three days.

Tuesday, 11th. – Put on an allowance of fresh water. Good weather, and nothing worthy of remark.

Sabbath, 16th. – Spoke a Bermuda brig, from Demerara, bound for Baltimore.

Monday, 17th. – No soup for dinner, only bread and beef. No oil for light in forecastle. Killed a pig.

Tuesday, 18th. – Had a bit of pig in a sea pie for dinner.

Wednesday, 19th. – Very bad with my legs.

Thursday, 20th. – Laid up for a day and a night with my legs.

Friday, 21st. – Harry, the cook, discharged from duty, and the boy put in his place. A few vessels seen going to the southward. Strong breezes and cloudy weather.

Sunday, 23rd. – Spoke the schooner Daniel and Isaac, of Boston, from Madeira to Boston. During the past week we have had very squally weather – three days of it a fair wind, which was a happy sight to all hands, for everything looks gloomy and cheerless. We are only allowed a bottle of water each man per day; and no grog, even at reefing topsails. In the course of the week we signalled a French brig and an American barque.

Sunday, 30th Oct. – It is now forty days since we left Jamaica, and not more than half way to London yet.

Monday, 31st. – We were put on a pound of beef, and half a pound of bread per day. Same evening got a bottle of grog among all hands, it being Halloweve.

Tuesday, 1st. – Caught a lot of rain water, which is a great blessing. I got a little to wash out some dirty clothes.

Wednesday, 2nd. – Killed little Bess, the pig. A fair wind, for which we are all very thankful.

Thursday, 3rd. – A fine breeze and fair weather. A schooner in sight, standing to the southward.

Saturday, 5th. – Being Mary's birthday, I remember to drink her health, and wish her long and happy days.

Sunday, 6th. – Spoke the barque William Harris, from the Main, bound for Cork for orders, out seven weeks and five days. We told him we were short of everything. He said he was in the same predicament, but offered to give us some water. We thanked him but declined, and said as we had a fair wind we would be able to get home without it. We bade each good-bye and proceeded on our passage.

Tuesday, 8th. – The barque seen far to the northward. 9th. – Lost sight of her. A gale blowing from the north-west. 10th. – Same wind and weather, nth and 12th. – Same. 13th. – More moderate. 14th. – Strong winds with heavy rain. 15th. – Spoke the barque Mary and Peter, from Africa to Liverpool; out 86 days. 16th. – Fresh breezes. The barque is far off, as we could pick her up on our lee quarter. 17th. –

Strong gale from the south-west. Ship hove to under close-reefed main topsail.

Friday, 18th. – More moderate. The captain came on deck at 3 a. m. and exercised all hands at unnecessary jobs, at one of which he tried to capsize me off the fore-yard by pulling a rope suddenly out of my hand, when my attention was engaged elsewhere. We exchanged a few words over the affair.

Sabbath, 20th. – Same wind and weather. A few outward bound ships in sight. 21st. – Spoke the barque Recovery, of Dublin, from Quebec for Dublin. 22nd. – Fine breeze and fair wind; soundings, 160 fathoms.

Wednesday, 23rd. – Spoke the Pearl of Falmouth, pilot boat. The Lizard Point in sight, about nine miles distant, being the first land we've made, and sixty-three days from land to land. Same night off the Startlight. Midnight. – Made sail and proceeded.

Thursday, 24th. – Strong winds from the southward. 10 a. m. – The Isle of Wight in sight on the starboard bow. 8 p. m. – Beechy Head light on the lee bow. Hove to till daylight.

Friday, 25th. – Stood in shore and sighted the land, 10 a. m. – The pilot came on board off Dover from the Wellington cutter. Sent a letter on shore for home. From the cutter we got some potatoes, a leg of mutton, and a few vegetables. We got some potatoes, but the other articles did not reach us. They offered us a few cabbage blades to eat with our rice. 2 p. m. – Sailed through the Downs. We passed many windbound vessels. Amongst the number the Thunderer man-of-war was lying, acting as guard ship, the Queen and Court being at Walmer Castle, the seat of the Duke of Wellington. 4 p. m. – Came to in Margate Roads.

Saturday, 26th, 6 a. m. – Got under weigh with the tide and a light breeze from the northward, in company with several vessels. 4 p. m. – The pilot got as drunk as ten topsail sheet blocks. 6 p. m. – Came to at the Nore light-ship. This place is memorable for the great mutiny, through which the

gallant Parker and many others lost their lives. No sugar for coffee for two days past. We spoke to the mate about it, and got the barrel to wash with the coffee.

Sabbath, 27th. – Got under weigh at daylight, and had not proceeded far when a steamboat came alongside and wanted to take us in tow, but we did not agree to her proposal till near Gravesend, when we furled sails and were busily employed taking the chaffing gear off the rigging, and making all ready for docking. 2 p. m. – Passed Gravesend, where the pilot left us, and Mr Reid, the river pilot, came on board. After many turnings and windings up the river, which was crowded with colliers from Newcastle, North and South Shields, and Whitby, we arrived at Blackwall at 5 p. m., and hauled into the wharf, not sorry to be on terra firma once more.

I reached Scotland safely after my rough journeying. Driving to my home in an omnibus I met Louis Guthrie, who told me that I need not wander again, as I could start at Dalmonach at my own trade. He said he could get me a shop on the morrow if I wished. I accordingly began work the day after, and remained there till the beginning of 1844. I left Dalmonach to go to another establishment across the river, called Fairy Field, belonging to the same firm. The work there was more constant, and that suited me better. While there a few of us put our heads together and started a Regatta Club on a larger scale than that of 1839. On the 13th April, 1843, we held a meeting, when the following committee was elected: – Robert Buchanan (treasurer), Robert Campbell (clerk), Wm. Young, Jas. Munroe, Thomas Hamilton, Arch. McIntyre, Robert Buchanan, Jas. Jamieson, Jas. Moody, Geo. Lang, Wm. Leckie, Dan. Cameron, Stewart Merrilies (only one still living with exception of self), Peter Strathearn, John McPherson, and Jas. McNaught. We held another meeting on the 20th, when it was considered necessary to have all the boats belonging to the Club classified as to length and breadth, to prevent disputes at regattas. The following are the different classes which were arranged by the Committee, and approved of by a general meeting: –

1. That this class be for boats 20ft. overall, and not under 5ft. beam.

2. That this class be for boats 2oft. over all, and not under 4ft. beam.

3. That this class be for boats 23ft. over all, and not under 4ft. 7in. beam.

4. That this class be for boats 23ft. over all, and any breadth.

5. That this class be for boats 25ft. over all, and not under 4ft. 4in. beam.

6. That this class be for boats 25ft. over all, and any breadth.

7. That this class be for boats 27ft. over all, and any breadth.

8. That this class be for gigs any length and breadth.

9. That this be for a class of boats pulled by one man, hereafter specified.

ARTICLES OF THE CLUB.

1. That this Club be called the "Vale of Leven and Loch Lomond Rowing Club," and that each member pay one shilling as entry money, and one penny per week afterwards during the season: the season to be from the lst of April until the 30th of September.

2. That a committee be duly elected from a general meeting at the beginning of each year, and to consist of at least two members from each Field, and a Treasurer and Secretary to be elected therefrom. The said committee to be responsible for all duties connected with their office during their term in said office.

3. That all boats be regularly classified according to lengths and breadths, laid down by Club; and that any member of the Club having a boat, and being challenged by another member to match his boat, must make the same known to the Secretary; he having it in his power to call five of the committee to attend, that they may have a starting and a turning boat; to see justice done to both parties, and likewise to decide all disputes. The bets to be put into their hands previous to starting, and that five per cent, of all bets run in this way be paid into the Club funds.

4. That at every race, whether public or private, the coxswain of each boat shall draw lots for their station, and no boat be allowed to foul another at the start; but that any leading boat may cut in for a nearer course. The judges to have it in their power to stop any race in which they see unfairness.

5. That there be a regatta at the end of every season, and on such a day as may best suit, and as the Club may agree upon; that everything be done to give all boats on the Leven an opportunity of running, and that the committee exert themselves to collect money for the said regatta.

6. After the regatta the members of the Club shall have a sociable festive meeting, and all parties bind themselves to that propriety of behaviour and language as should characterise such friendly contests.

7. That the members he punctual in attending all meetings, especially the committeemen; that if any member of committee be absent without a reasonable excuse, he shall subject himself to a fine of three pence, to go to the funds of the Club.

Our Club prospered, and has always kept up its reputation. At the end of 1844 work was very slack, and when Mr Archie Orr Ewing asked me if I would go on at Leven Bank Print and Dye-works, I accepted his offer. I remained there till about the middle of '45, when I had the offer of the foremanship of the printers in Barrowfield Works, Glasgow. I had a splendid place there, earning thirty shillings per week. I had about three hundred men, women, and boys under my supervision.

In 1848 there was a general commotion amongst the working classes throughout Europe. The agitation reached Glasgow in due time, and workers became affected, and began murmuring, which in the end led to their knocking off work. The leaders, or, as they are now called, Socialists, held meetings, which were largely attended, and the town became very unpleasant to live in. Of course men of their stamp will always get a certain class to follow them, and these, with the larrikins, did a lot of mischief, damaging people's property and breaking into warehouses and helping themselves liberally to the contents. At length the authorities ordered the cavalry and pensioners (old soldiers) to the assistance of the police. I, being a foreman, had to attend these meetings to see where their next visit was to be, and one day they said they would go towards Barrowfield Print Works, down the main street of Bridgetown. They came on, the crowd getting rowdier as they proceeded. They picked up bits of road metal and threw at the old soldiers, who were ordered to pay no attention; but they were in danger of getting their heads broken, and after dodging the stones for awhile they asked the captain if they were to defend themselves or not. He said: "Defend yourselves if necessary – fire on them." They did so, and a man who was standing on the

pavement beside one of our apprentices jumped in the air and fell dead. The boy got such a fright that he turned and fled, never stopping till he reached his home and was upstairs in his own room. Another decent man was in the act of putting the shutters on his shop window when a bullet struck him in the back, killing him. This ended the riots. The people saw by this time that the authorities had had enough, and were determined to put all such things down at any cost.

I remained in Glasgow till August, 1848, when I made up my mind to cross the ocean and settle in New Zealand. After selling up our home, and bidding farewell to friends, we left for London to join the ship Ajax, which was to sail from that port for the Antipodes on 6th September, 1848.

NEW ZEALAND. PART I. THE VOYAGE.

NEW ZEALAND

PART I.

THE VOYAGE.

WE are now on the good ship Ajax. We left London on Wednesday, 6th Sept., 1848, and came to at Gravesend same evening. Lay there and got all ready for sea; weighed anchor and set sail on Friday morning at 4 o'clock. We got as far as Margate Roads, where we dropped anchor for the night.

Saturday, 9th. – Sent a letter on shore by the pilot at the Downs for Edinburgh, and one for Mr Houston. Came to at the Downs in the afternoon, and stayed there all Sabbath.

Monday, 11th. – -Shipped anchor and set sail with a fair wind, and although we were nearly the last in starting, before midday ours was the first ship in the fleet to pass the Duke of Portland, bound for Auckland, New Zealand. She gave us three cheers, which compliment we returned, and wishing each other a good journey, we proceeded on our way down the coast of Kent.

Tuesday, 12th. – Had a fine view of the coast of Cornwall. The good ship Ajax left every vessel we came in sight of, proving her to be a first-rate sailor. Towards the afternoon we came in sight of the Lizard light and Land's End. All glasses were in request to take the last fond look of that land which most of us should never see again. The sight drew many a sigh from the English, but it had few charms for the Scotch. Scotland was out of sight, and that was enough for them.

Wednesday, 13th. – -Fine weather, and a few sails in sight. About 2 o'clock in the afternoon a French ship showed a signal of distress, and sent a boat alongside. Two gentlemen came on board and asked for a supply of provisions. They had been without food or drink for four days. They were well supplied, and started off with light hearts, and every prospect of satisfying their appetite.

Thursday, 14th. – Everything goes on very well. The English engage in cooking, and the Scotch either knit stockings or read. I have been busy overhauling the Books I got from Mr Watson, London, for the benefit of Scotch emigrants, and gave a copy of the Confession of Faith to all heads of families.

Friday, 15th. – A fresh breeze ahead; vessel pitching very much; a great many sick, young and old – all suffering badly. Midnight. – Wind blowing a fresh gale; great destruction amongst delf of all descriptions.

Saturday, 16th. – A beggarly array of plates and drinking mugs, and no appetite for breakfast. Mid-day. – Things look a little better, and people begin to crawl along the deck. Evening. – We are off with a fair wind and fine weather.

Sabbath, 17th. – Beautiful morning; people pretty well recovered from sickness. The doctor sent for me to see if our people would come and hear service read after the Church of England form. I objected on the ground that it would be more amusing than devotional to them. The consequence was we had the topgallant forecastle assigned to us for a church, and the others had the quarter deck – the capstan being covered with the ensign for the altar, and the doctor acting as chaplain. We on the forecastle took it in turns. In the afternoon we met again, with our Bibles, though others lounged round the decks reading Punch and the Pictorial Times. With family worship in the evening we concluded our first Sunday at sea.

Monday, 18th. – Good weather, and progress on our journey satisfactory. A murmur arose among the passengers about the schoolmaster, and on account of the rumour the Scotch people would not send their children to school. The

worthy dominie and his better half disagreed as they were rising, and, contrary to general rule, engaged in a stand up fight. This, the folks thought, was "teaching the young idea how to shoot" with a vengeance.

Tuesday, 19th. – A difference arose between the dominie and a fellow-passenger. The man struck the dominie, who returned the blow with a broomstick. Being in authority, I was obliged to interfere. I stopped the scuffle, and brought them both before a court, which we held on the forecastle. They were reprimanded, and made to shake hands, with the promise to be better friends in future.

Wednesday, 20th. – Fair wind and fine weather.

Thursday, 21st. – Foul wind, and some complaints of seasickness.

Friday, 22nd. – Fair wind, and everything going well. No ships in sight.

Saturday, 22nd. – A general disruption took place among the boys and girls attending school. A German had been appointed by the doctor to teach the children. He was quite unfitted for the work; besides, he was always squabbling with his wife, which turned all against him. A young man named Brown, notorious for his boasting propensities, started in opposition with a few Scotch boys. In the afternoon all the English boys and girls left the German in high dudgeon. He thereupon thought it wise to resign – a resolution approved by all concerned.

Sabbath, 24th. – Early this morning a little stranger made his appearance – Mrs Cook giving birth to a son. The sailors gave him the nickname of "Ajax." The day was passed in as becoming a manner as could be expected. The Scotch, joined by a few of the English, refrained from unnecessary work, and attended both forenoon and afternoon services, at which we read a sermon from the memoirs of the late Rev. Mr McCheyne. I think it may be said without boasting that we are doing some good. Our congregation is on the increase, not a few sailors attending twice a day.

Monday, 25th. – Very warm. Young and old sent on deck, and down below there is a regular turmoil – cleaning, scraping, and scrubbing. 12 o'clock. – A ship in sight; all hands calling out, "Campbell, bring your glass and tell us what she is," and this at a distance of 18 or 20 miles! Getting nearer we found her to be a brig, standing to the south. Plum-pudding for dinner, served on deck. All in good health, and Mrs Campbell in high spirits.

Tuesday, 26th. – Making good progress.

Wednesday, 27th. – A deputation of women waited on the doctor this morning – their beer had been stopped! They carried their point of course.

Thursday, 28th. – Fair wind. Nothing remarkable to-day.

Friday, 29th. – Wind fresh, and not in the right direction for us. Towards night it blew a gale, and such a bobbery there was, above and below. It was enough to frighten one – women bawling and children squalling!

Saturday, 30th. A fair day, little wind, but a very heavy swell, and the ship pitching at a terrible rate.

Sunday, Oct. 1st. – Moderate weather, and a fair wind. All well; worship as usual, both forenoon and afternoon.

Monday, 2nd. Fine weather; a few sharks seen alongside.

Tuesday, 3rd. – A beautiful day; a ship seen in the distance. After a while we found her to be a homeward bound ship. We prevailed on the captain to send the chief mate on board with letters. They gave us ten minutes to get our communications for the Old Country ready, and a boat pulled off to the ship. She was the "Augusta," hailed from Bombay, and her port was Cowes. We hauled the boat up, and away we went.

Wednesday, 4th. – Fair weather and all well, with one or two exceptions.

Thursday, 5th. – This day makes one month since we left London. Wind very light.

Friday, 6th. – Light wind and fair weather.

Saturday, 7th. – Making very little progress.

Sabbath, 8th. – Light and baffling winds. The youngest child of Angus McPhee took very ill, and continued so, from bad to worse, till half past ten at night, when he winged his flight to a better world. His age was seven months.

Monday, 9th. – Very warm weather, and light winds; a ship in sight. 9 a. m. – The dead child was sewn up in a bag, and laid on the grating of the main hatch with the Union Jack thrown over it. At ten o'clock all hands were called up to the funeral, which is a very unceremonious affair at sea. A few boards were put from the ship's side to the long boat. The boatswain stood on the boards – the body of the child on a plank before him. The Union Jack still covered it, one end of which the boatswain held in one hand, while he used his other to steady the plank. The doctor read the funeral service, and at the word of command the boatswain pulled off the Jack and tripped up the plank, and so, amidst the sighs of some and the tears of many, the little thing was launched into the deep, where in a moment it was lost to sight. In ten minutes things went on as if nothing had occurred to disturb the usual routine of ship life.

Tuesday, 10th. – Fine weather. 8 a. m. – Three ships in sight. One fired three shots, and hove to. We took our glasses to see what all the fuss was about. She turned out to be a man-of-war firing to make the other ships show their colours, that she might know to what nations they belonged.

Wednesday, 11th, 11 p. m. – The moon shone very clearly. A shark came alongside. We put a hook over the stern, he took the bait and the hook. We got him on board, and what a commotion. All the passengers, young and old, were up. After he died we laid him aside to be dissected by the doctor.

Thursday, 12th. – A fair wind and showery. The shark was dissected this morning. His jaw and backbone were cut out, and the carcass thrown overboard.

Friday, 13th. – Fine weather and no wind.

Saturday, 14th. – A general clear out of the steerage, over which the doctor and I had a few words. We had a heavy fall

of rain in the afternoon, which led to more words with the medical adviser. Allen, the assistant, interfered with the work. I resisted this interference, and he told the doctor, the result being that on Sabbath I gave up the office of constable, which position I had held since the 5th September, 1848.

Monday, 16th. – Still very little wind.

Tuesday. 17th. – Same for wind and weather.

Wednesday, 18th. – Do., do.

Thursday, 19th. – Dead calm.

Friday, 20th. – Warm and tiresome.

Saturday, 21st. – No wind, and all anxious to get across the line.

Sabbath, 22nd. – After a long and dreary calm of nearly three weeks, a long-looked-for breeze sprang up in the morning, and carried us over the line at half-past 12 noon. The cabin passengers had some fun in the evening. Neptune, his wife, and daughter, came on board, and after the customary salutations, adjourned with family to the poop, where he proceeded to blacken, and otherwise ornament, the faces of some of the younger male passengers.

Monday, 23rd. Steady breeze and fair weather.

Tuesday, 24th. – Dawned fair and bright, but how often does it happen that the brightest morning gives no joy to the sorrowing parent, as she sits by the bedside of a dying child? This is the case to-day with William Strain and his wife, who are watching by their youngest child – a fine boy of eleven months. I cannot help observing the wonderful workings of God. In the next berth to the dying boy a woman has been put to bed to be delivered of a child. This has given rise to some unpleasantness with the doctor, who refused to allow the woman to be put into hospital, thus compelling her to occupy the ordinary berth. I was one of those who waited on him to point out the impropriety of such a proceeding. He appealed to the captain. The captain called me into his cabin, and after a long discussion consented to have the woman put into hospital, and sent for the doctor to have her removed; but it

was too late – the child was born while we were talking. Here is joy to this family; but mark the berth next to the one where the man-child has just entered into life. There lies a man-child on the brink of Eternity, as if the one were bade to stay here until the other came to fill his place; and so it was, for that night, or rather next morning at half-past one, the little sufferer bade a final adieu to time, and his body was in the usual manner committed to the deep at nine o'clock on the morning of Wednesday, the 25th. Some melted into tears, while others indulged in levity, at the sight of a fellow creature being launched into the deep.

Thursday, 26th. – Fresh winds and fair weather.

Friday, 27th. – Nothing worth mentioning.

Saturday, 28th. – Light winds and fair weather.

Sabbath, 29th. – Worship to-day in the single men's place.

Monday, 30th. – A general meeting held on the top-gallant forecastle, of steerage passengers, owing to insufficiency of provisions. A deputation waited on the doctor. I was appointed speaker, and explained our dissatisfaction. He seemed to think all was right enough, until I brought up the beam and scales, tried them, and found them on the wrong side by five and a half ounces. On further examination I found a piece of lead, weighing two ounces, run into the scale. We appointed two men to go to the store-room every day, and see the provisions weighed out. These men were elected independently of those appointed by the owners of the vessel, or by the captain, to rob us of our just rights.

Tuesday, 31st. - Things look a little better to-day.

Wednesday, 1st November. – Fair winds.

Thursday, 2nd. – A ship in sight; the Island of Trinidad on the larboard bow; also a high rock – uninhabited.

Friday, 3rd. – Found the ship to be the Duke of Portland – the ship in whose company we left the Downs.

Saturday, 4th. – Light winds and fair weather. The Duke of Portland close alongside, and the captains hailing each other.

Sabbath, 5th. – Our mate went off in the lifeboat, and got

five casks of ale. In the afternoon the captain came to dine with our skipper. He returned to his ship about 6 p. m., and a breeze springing up we soon left her in the distance. By daylight on the morning of Monday (6th) our friend was nowhere to be seen. The minister on board the Duke of Portland (a man from Edinburgh), lost one child, the day another was born; and I was told that he has the body in a cask of spirits, so as to keep it till they land. They could not entertain the idea of having it cast into the sea.

Monday, 20th. – The wife of Richard Sutclift had a son this morning, making the third male child born since we left.

Tuesday, 21 st. – The child of Sam. Wooley died, and in less than four hours the body, although yet warm, was committed to the deep.

Saturday, 25th. – To our great astonishment, half-a-pound of fresh pork was served out to each of the adult passengers in the steerage, this being the first fresh meat of any description since we left the Downs. Signalled the ship Fortitude, from London, bound for Moreton Hay, Australia, with Government emigrants. The ship came near enough to cheer each other. In the evening a fresh breeze sprang up, and at daylight next morning the Fortitude was out of sight. Strong winds; ship sailing at the rate of eleven and twelve knots an hour.

Monday, 27th. – Strong winds, towards evening more moderate.

Tuesday, 28th. – Light winds, and right ahead.

Wednesday, 29th. – Strong breeze and fair weather.

Thursday, 30th. – Light winds, thick and rainy weather.

Friday, December 1st. – Steady winds; a busy day, catching albatrosses with hooks and lines baited with a piece of raw pork. Nine birds were caught during the day.

Saturday, 2nd. – Sago given instead of oatmeal. All men in the steerage refused to take it, and went in a body to the doctor, to ask the reason. He gave no definite answer, and his insolent language to the men brought on him a heap of abuse for his inattention. Two hours after he tried to regain the

goodwill of a man who had handled him rather sharply, by offering him a cupful of barley.

Sabbath, 3rd. – Strong winds and fair weather.

Monday, 4th. – Fair weather.

Tuesday, 5th. – Same weather.

Wednesday, 6th. – Do.; do.

Thursday, 7th. – Half-a-pound of fresh pork served out today, which makes one pound of fresh meat in three months, for each adult passenger.

Friday, 8th. – Steady breeze and fair weather. The doctor seen stumbling about drunk at midnight.

Saturday, 9th. – Strong wind and squally weather.

Sabbath, 10th. – Ship labouring very much, which prevented us from meeting for worship.

Monday, 11th. – Strong wind, and fair weather.

Tuesday, 12th. – Ditto.

Wednesday, 13th. – Strong winds and cloudy weather.

Thursday, 14th. – Strong winds, mild and clear weather.

Friday, 15th. – Fair winds, clear and dry weather.

Saturday, 16th. – -Fair wind and weather. Fresh pork served out to adult passengers – half a pound to each. Oatmeal to all the messes.

Sabbath, 17th. – Fresh breeze, and clear beautiful weather. Service in the cabin for the first time since crossing the line. We of the Free Church met on the top-gallant forecastle, the weather being favourable.

Monday, 18th. – Still delightful weather; a lot of seaweed seen drifting about. A child nearly poisoned, through taking a draught of chloride of zinc.

Tuesday, 19th. – Nearly calm.

Wednesday, 20th. – Still calm, which has cast a gloom over the ship, all being in hope of arriving in Otago by the first day of the New Year.

Thursday, 21st. – -Yet calm. The cabin passengers could see to read at half-past eight o'clock.

Friday, 22nd. – -A strong wind from the south, and cold;

ship going at 10 knots. At six o'clock a raffle of a pair of pistols took place. At half past seven went to a party in the carpenter's berth, it being his birthday.

Saturday, 23rd. – Moderate wind and fair weather, wind still from the south.

Sabbath, 24th. – Light winds and clear weather. Fresh pork served out to-day to all steerage passengers. Had it served on deck, the English in the cabin.

Monday, 25th. – This being Christinas Day, is a busy one, with plum-pudding. &c. There was service in the cabin for those who wished to attend – prayers first, afterwards riotousness and drinking. A strange religion this. At noon, lat. 46. 20 S.; long. 129. 32 E.

Tuesday, 26th. – Light winds and fair weather.

Wednesday, 27th. – Nearly calm. It is said that we are to be put on short allowance of water and provisions, and that the live stock is to be killed, so as to save the beasts from starvation.

Thursday, 28th. – Strong winds in the right direction, which has raised our spirits a little. We now expect to be in Otago, if the wind keeps as it is, in six days. I hope it will do so. Two pigs killed, leaving one. Lat. 48. 46 S.; long. 134. 34 E. at noon.

Friday, 29th. – Wind more moderate. Ship going along with studding sails set low and aloft.

Saturday, 30th. – Strong winds; ship going at 10 knots under close-reefed topsails. Lat. 48. 53 S.; long. 144 E.

Sabbath, 31st. – Still the same winds and weather. This is the last Sabbath of the year, and may the Lord God of Mercy lead and guide us through the year we are entering upon; may His face for ever shine upon us, and through all eternity. Half a pound of fresh pork to all steerage passengers.

Monday, 1st January, 1849. – This day is welcomed by the ringing of the ship's bell, ringing the Old Year out and the New Year in, and accompanied by a procession of men beating on old tin pans of every description, making a great noise, with

certainly little melody. Noon, lat. 48. 2 S., long. 153. 09 E. Spent the evening at an entertainment given by the carpenter.

Tuesday, 2nd. – Strong wind, ship making great way through the water. Some of the passengers are packing up for going ashore. Noon, lat. 49. 19 S., long. 158. 08 E.

Wednesday, 3rd. – Fair wind, weather clear and fine. Noon, lat. 48. 13 S., long. 162. 28 E.

Thursday, 4th. Fair wind and fine weather. At ten o'clock this morning the welcome cry of "Land ahead!" was heard from the mast-head. It proved to be rocks, called the Snares, to the south of Stewart Island.

Friday, 5th. Morning fine. At breakfast time came in sight of the mouth of the Clutha River. A more beautiful prospect I should never wish to see: a deep bay, surrounded with hills, sloping to the water's edge, and covered with wood, and thousands of sea-fowl swimming and (lying about. Did not reach Otago Harbour to-night.

Saturday, 6th. Ran down to Taiaroa Heads. A pilot came off, and we anchored about mid-day, outside the entrance. The wind blowing out of the Harbour, and squally.

Sabbath, 7th. – A fine day and still at anchor. I ought to add that during the voyage the captain steered by my watch. One of the chronometers got out of gear just after we sailed. The captain tried several watches on board, but none of them except mine could be depended upon. It was such a good timekeeper that the skipper said, should the other chronometer go wrong, he would be able to steer by the watch alone.

NEW ZEALAND. PART II. COLONIAL LIFE IN THE EARLY DAYS.

PART II.

COLONIAL LIFE IN THE EARLY DAYS.

WE got into the Harbour on the 7th January, 1849. We were not at all taken with Port Chalmers, and I was very disappointed to see the surrounding land so heavily wooded. Along with several of the passengers I left the ship on the 11th to go to Dunedin. We were to have gone in one of the ship's boats, and got as far as Blanket Bay, where we became wind-bound.

We heard there was a track to town, so a fellow-passenger and I determined to make our way thither if possible. We left the others and started, I taking my gun. We climbed the hill – there rather steep and struck the track leading into the North-East Valley. We trudged on, keeping a look-out for the town, which consisted then of a few huts composed of wattle and daub. We came upon a series of swamps, creeks, hills, and hollows, with flax bushes everywhere. After a lot of floundering, we at length reached Princes street. When we got opposite the Post Office, a man standing at his own door hailed us. We spoke to him, and thus made the acquaintance of Mr. Wm. Stevenson. After some conversation I discovered that I had known his uncle at home. Mr. S.'s mother welcomed us and invited us to stay for tea. We did so, and there I had my first meal in New Zealand. After tea went to call on Mr Andrew Watson, who lived in Walker street, just off Princes street.

I stopped there all night, and next day returned to the ship to procure my belongings, and bring my wife to town. We got back safely, and lived with Mr Watson till we got a house of our own. I got a section in Manor place, which locality was in those days densely wooded. The house was built of round timber (maple), the ends of which were just stuck into

the ground. We had to carry the trees from where the Club now stands. Of course the only available roofing was thatch, and I decided to have mine done with manuka and "rashes." I had to go to Tomahawk Lagoon to cut the "rashes," and then carried them home with the aid of the man who was assisting me. For the inside we made a mixture of clay and tussock grass, with which we plastered it to fill up the cracks between the trees. The city then consisted of a row of wattle and daub huts, called "Blundell Row," on the site of the present Rattray street. That part of the town through which George street now runs was a flat covered with flax and manuka. The first erection of any kind was a stock and cattle sale-yard, about where the Octagon now is. The first dwelling-house in George street was built for Mr Lee (of Lee Stream), at the corner of that street and London street. The house was afterwards the residence of Dr Purdie.

In those days Princes street was very hilly. The Criterion Hotel, a fern-tree house (occupied by Mr White, a shoemaker), the Immigration Barracks, and Captain Cargill's place opposite Neill's store, were the only houses in that street.

After I had got the cottage finished, and ourselves comfortably settled in it, Mr Kettle, chief surveyor, sent for me and asked if I wanted work. I said I had no objection to doing something by which I could turn an honest penny. He said he would have great pleasure in making me one of his staff on the survey.

We were to be ready to start on Monday to go out and survey Green Island and the surrounding country, particularly that part lying between town and the river. Mr Abbott was his manager. Each man had to carry his own provisions, besides his blankets, billy, tin plate, &c. As there was no butcher meat to be had, I took my gun. Pigeons were very plentiful, and every day we shot sufficient for all hands; and as we enjoyed the privilege of having a cook, who was really a master of the culinary art, we did not do so badly. His name was Frank Crystal.

Our wages amounted to 4s. per day, all time that we lost being deducted. Sometimes our duties were rather arduous. I remember one day having to erect a flag on the top of the hill to the north of Brighton. The climbing rather tired me, and when I began to build the mound I found the shapes of the stones so various that I could not refrain from spending some little time examining them; anyhow, when I got down to the river again, I found the tide in. There was nothing left for me but to swim for it, and being winter time, that was not pleasant. There seemed no other way out of the difficulty, so I undressed, made my clothes into a bundle, tied them with flax, and fixed them on to my head. I stepped into the water, waded till beyond my depth, and then struck out. I reached terra firma safely, dressed, and proceeded to the camp. The weather got very bad, and we were sent home to await instructions.

We next went on an expedition to the South Molyneux, to show a settler his section pegs. The party this time consisted of only three J. Harrison, J. Thorburn, and myself. We took sufficient provisions for the return journey. On reaching the Taieri we procured a guide who took us to Kaitangata, where we passed the night in an old hut – not an agreeable lodging, owing to the number of rats infesting the place. Next morning we proceeded on our way without a guide. We met a Maori, who took us up the Puerua River in his boat to our destination. He waited while we did our work, and conveyed us back to Kaitangata.

We began our return journey the following day, and were unfortunate enough to get caught in a fog on the top of Mount Misery. The rain came down heavily, and owing to the thick mist we lost the track, and could see no distance ahead. We wandered about, and ultimately got into a bushy gully, where we camped for the night. Of course we were wet to the skin. We made a fire, and arranged that while two slept the third should keep up the fire and dry the clothes. We followed this plan, and so got our garments dried and our bodies rested.

Next morning we started for Tokomairiro. The fog was still thick, and rain fell heavily, but we happened to drop on the track, and by-and-bye came on an old surveyors' hut, where we decided to remain for the night. It was a palace compared with the one we had at Kaitangata. We consumed the last of our provisions here. Morning came, but our outlook was not very bright – still raining hard, nothing to eat, and little prospect of getting anything. We shook the flour out of the corners of the bag and made a damper, which, after it was cooked, was about the size of one's hand. We were sitting round feeling very miserable, when Tom Harrison, who was seated near the door, saw a wood-hen coming. As it passed the doorway he knocked it over with his billy-hook, and before long it was roasting on the embers. After it was cooked, we divided it and the damper between the three, and proceeded to satisfy our hunger. Our only beverage was water.

Next day, although still raining, we started on our journey. We got on pretty well, considering the country we were; travelling over, but were brought to a stop by Salmon's Creek (it had no name then), which was in full flood. How to cross it was the trouble, and to make matters worse, Tom Harrison could not swim. We drew lots who would cross first, and it fell to me. I plunged in and got over safely. I pulled some flax (which there grew plentifully), made it into a string rope, and threw one end across to Thorburn. This was the only way we could think of to get Harrison over. He held on to the rope, and so managed to get to the opposite side without accident. Thorburn followed, and though we were thoroughly drenched we trudged on till we came opposite to the Maori Kaik. We could not attempt the river there, so we coo-ee'd loudly. Presently a Maori, hurrying from one hut to the other, heard the call; and before very long a boat put off which quickly took us to the Kaik shore. A man named Perkins, who had a Maori wife, took us into his whare, where we dried ourselves. The only dry thing about me was my watch, which I wrapped in my neckerchief and tied round my waist. Here we also

spent the night a very miserable one. They had nothing to give us to eat but some small potatoes, and these we had to take without salt.

In the morning we started for Dunedin. Harrison became knocked up; when we were about Otakia, and went back. Thorburn and I kept on till we reached Mr Jeffrey's hut at Saddle Hill. We were faint with hunger, so we drew lots for which should go and beg a scone or its equivalent, from Mrs Jeffrey. Again the luck was mine. Accordingly I went to the door, knocked, and on Mrs Jeffrey appearing, stated the case, and made my request. She gave me the scone, which I carried back to where my mate was waiting. It was an ordinary sized scone, and we divided and ate it as we tramped in to town, which we reached in due course.

When I got home I found a sorry house. The wet weather was the cause of the trouble. During the heavy rain numbers of huts had been washed away; but ours, built as it was of logs stuck into the ground, stood the test, only the clay with which it was plastered suffering, but it was nearly all washed off. My wife had to take a spade and dig a drain through the house to carry the water away; and at night she was forced to put an open umbrella over her bed to sleep with any degree of comfort.

One morning Mr John Cargill came and asked if I would go to Henley for Dr Williams, as Mrs Cargill had been taken ill. Mr Cutten lent me a horse, but it was not of much account. I travelled as best I could till I came to Riccarton, and being dark by that time, both horse and I tumbled into a creek, which the gloom prevented me from seeing.

We got out again all right; and as the night was intensely dark, I took advantage of a disused hut to camp till the morning. With ferns which I had gathered as a covering, and my saddle for a pillow, I laid me down to rest, but not to sleep. What with the cold – for it was the month of June, and frosty – and the howling of wild dogs, I had very little peace. I kept the bridle over my arm all night, so that my horse was not far away when I rose.

In the morning I proceeded on my journey, and got on splendidly till I came to the swampy ground near Henley. Owing to the frost the place was very slippery, and the horse fell. He did not seem to be able to recover his feet, so I had to drag him over. I managed it, and then proceeded to the hut. Mr Thomson, who was left in charge, gave me some refreshment.

The gentleman who owned the hut had gone to Kuri Bush, pig shooting, and taken the doctor with him. I told Thomson to go after them, and tell the doctor to come as quickly as possible. Meantime I would start and go on so far, and leave the horse tied to a cabbage tree on the road-side, so that when Williams came along he could get it, and would then easily overtake me.

I did as I agreed, and had got about a couple of miles on my way, when I heard the doctor "cooee-ing" his very utmost. I paid no attention for a time, but he became so vehement in his calls that I had to wait for him. I knew he could not take much out of the horse, so I stood till he came up. He made use of a great many unparliamentary expressions concerning the animal, and proposed that we should take turn about, one riding, and the other walking behind to hurry the brute along. By coaxing and physical persuasion we got the horse to the top of the hill where Belleknowes now is. It was by this time dark, and we could not see the survey track leading into Rattray street. We thought the best thing was to gather some dry cabbage-tree leaves, and use them as a torch. This we did, but they burned out rapidly, and seemed only to make the darkness more dense. After many proposals, I said: "Tie up the bridle and take hold of one stirrup, and I'll hold by you; then give the horse a smart rap or two, and he will soon find the track." That suggestion was carried out, and had the desired effect. About ten o'clock we reached town, passed half-a-dozen mud huts along what is now Princes street, and the doctor had arrived at Mr Cargill's, and gone to see his patient.

Next day the doctor wished to return to Henley, and for that purpose borrowed Mr Kettle's old horse, "Dobbin." The day was pretty far advanced before he got started. Mr Duff, of Green Island, had walked off with Dobbin early in the morning to go and inspect some cattle. Dobbin was a little tired, and the doctor (a fearless rider), going at a hard pace up the track which leads over a spur of Saddle Hill, toppled with poor old Dobbin into a hole, known as an "under-runner." Williams got out, but the animal had not sufficient strength to struggle. His rider was powerless to render any assistance, so he left him, and made the best of his way back to town. Next morning rescuers set out for the scene of the accident, but their help came too late – poor Dobbin was dead. So the doctor lost his passage, and Mr Kettle his faithful steed. For many years the place was known as "Dobbin's hole."

For some time past I had been thinking that this kind of life would not suit me. I thought I would buy a boat, and try my luck at trading in the Harbour. It was with difficulty I got one; they were scarce in those days. At length I managed to get one from a man who had got it in payment of a debt, and found I did better in this line than on the survey.

We were still living in Manor place, but I thought it would be better if I had a house down the Harbour somewhere, and set about to look for something suitable. Before long I found what I wanted. Mr Stewart, a man not long from Home, who lodged with Mr Duthie (now of Milton), had taken up some suburban sections on Dunedin side of Sawyers' Bay Peninsula, and as he was willing to sell, I purchased them at £4 per acre. A house was the next concern, so I got Bob Murray and John Healey (two carpenters who were out of work) to go and erect one for me, and a very comfortable one it was – of fern-tree. We cut the trees and dressed them, and I bought sawn timber from some sawyers down the river. I had to take provisions to the carpenters. Butcher meat was very scarce, but I managed to get some occasionally, and I left them my gun and ammunition, so that they might supplement their larder with pigeons and kakas.

Sometimes when I had passengers I did not call every day, and on one occasion when I went I found Murray with his hand wrapped in a handkerchief. He would not say what was wrong, but Healey told me that one day when the fire would not burn, Murray took the powder-flask and emptied some on it, with the result that the flask was blown out of his hand, burning his fingers, and, striking against his waistcoat pocket, crushed a toilet comb like tow. The flask I never saw again, but the top we picked up a long time after.

Our house – a nice-looking cottage, with a pavilion roof, two windows, and a door in front – was getting on towards completion, so I got Mrs Campbell down as quickly as possible. I stayed at home as much as I could, and stuck in to get a garden set a-going. I always went up and down with my boat when any vessels were expected.

We set to and plastered the inside of the cottage with clay, which makes a splendid house, although a troublesome job, as the clay dries so quickly; and when it and the fern dry together, the clay cracks, so that you have to be at it daily, painting it with clay mixed to the consistency of cream. We had very little furniture, and no bedstead, but having a few tools and some red pine, I set about making one. It turned out very well; and I felt quite pleased when the minister (Dr Burns), on coming to visit us, praised it, and would scarcely believe I had made it. We worked very hard, night and day, to get our garden so that we might be able to grow our own fruit and vegetables. In my spare moments I put a lean-to of slabs, so that on wet days I could fill in time by making many things we required. My next feat was a fowl-house, which I built of fern-trees. After getting the frame up I was confronted with a difficulty. Where was I to get something that would take the place of netting? I thought it over, and at last found a way out of the trouble. I took strips of timber, and bored holes every two and a half inches apart, then went into the bush and got black supplejacks. The lumps on these I planed off, and wove them across, just like a wicker basket. It

made a pretty place, and useful to us, because, if we kept fowls at all, they would require to be closed in on account of the garden. Things were going pretty well with us; our garden was flourishing, and I was always doing a little with the boat.

One day Dr Burns, with a brother of Mr Macandrew, and Mr E. J. Wakefield called on us, to see if I would show them a good road to Port. They were delighted with my place, and put a very flattering paragraph in the Otago News, saying how they were regaled with tea, &c, that whatever I turned my hand to was substantially done, that I was the right man for a colonist, &c

By this time we had splendid vegetables, and whenever a vessel came to Port, I took down a boat-load, which were readily bought up. This was always extra money for me.

When turning over the ground I threw all the roots on the top, in little heaps; Mrs Campbell went into the bush and gathered some dry sticks, then we made up fires, piled on the roots, and thus got rid of them. We worked in that way till nearly midnight. It may be worth while mentioning that in those days we had to make our own salt by boiling salt water.

I had a coloured man – George – working for me about this time. We felled the heavy timber on the place, and while I tilled the ground he cut the wood, at which he was a grand hand; but he had a weakness for rum. He used to weary to get to town, and would say to Mrs Campbell: "When is the master going to town?" She would reply: "I do not know, George." George would smile and say: "Oh, I'll soon fix that; I'll have two cords of wood ready soon, then he'll have to go."

There was always somebody waiting to buy the wood, so that I "killed two dogs with one stone" – cleared the property, and sold the timber at 14s or 15s per cord. When we got the wood discharged, George put up the boat, and then went to enjoy his rum. Sometimes I had to wait for him. He occasionally took a bullock's head home with him, which he made into "potted head" – a preparation which he could make to perfection. His fireplace was the hollow stump of a broadleaf, cut about three feet from the ground.

Once poor George went away to enjoy himself with his rum, and I had to go without him. While in town he met an old skipper of his named Stevenson. He coaxed George to go with him to Riverton, and he agreed to go. George begged me to give him a dog I had, called "Neal." This animal was always in trouble, chasing pigs, stealing from the Royal Hotel, or helping himself to eggs, so we let him go, and we never heard of either again. I missed the dog for many reasons. When I was delayed through bad weather, I had often to walk home, and there was only a surveyors' track through the dense bush. When I got on the hill above my house I had only to call Neal to me, and, tying my neckerchief through his collar and keeping hold of it, he guided me safely home.

At this time no flour came into the colony, and people; had to live on potatoes and such like. Some wheat came to John Jones's store, from Waikouaiti, I think, but as there were only hand mills to grind it, the process of flour-making was slow. As an example of this, I may say that it took a man grinding all day to supply Mr Valpy's establishment with flour for the day.

Returning from Dunedin one day I met with Colok the Maori. We drew alongside each other for a chat, when I saw a bag in the bow of his boat. I asked what it contained. He told me it was wheat, and that he was taking it to town to sell. I told him I would be his purchaser, and accordingly the four bushel bag, with its contents, became mine for the sum of one sovereign. I congratulated myself on the good bargain I had made. In the evening I sat beside the fire with a small coffee mill on my knee, and ground as much wheat into flour as did us for the next day. The hand mill was slow enough, but this, with a mill only four inches square, was slower still.

We had by this time a good bit of ground cleared, and plenty of vegetables – in fact, more than we required. The land in which we could not plant vegetables until the roots rotted, I sowed with oats. I had a decent crop, and wished to

build a stack. I was not up to that sort of work, however, and asked old Mr McNeil to give me a lesson. He seemed very unwilling, and made an excuse. I put it up myself, but it was not a success. Wet weather came, and the stack got wet through; so I had to take it down, dry the stuff, and rebuild it. After that I came to the conclusion that I must put up a barn, as I could do no threshing without some sort of roof to cover me. One night, sitting by the fire, I drew a plan of a barn which I thought would suit me. I went into the bush and cut timber, and carried it home on my back. It did not take long to get the posts in and the roof on, which I thatched with "rashes." We found it a handy place for keeping potatoes, carrots, &c Our next want was a cow, but before I got it I must have a byre. I erected one of fern-trees – a very good one, of three bails. I laid the floor with flat stones, made a nice gutter with an outside drain, and a sort of tank into which any water might run. Accommodation being ready, we purchased a cow, with calf at foot, for which I paid £16. Now that we had the cow we must have a churn, but such things were not to be had then, and we had to invent something that would answer the purpose. We overcame the difficulty of milk dishes by getting a carpenter (a neighbour) to make frames of wood, just like the sides of a box, but sloping out towards the top. I had some tin, which was sufficient for bottoms for half-a-dozen of those frames. We fastened them on with tacks, and they served our purpose for years.

The churn was arranged in the following way: – Mr Napier's father sent them a barrel of oatmeal from Home. They did not want the meal, and I purchased it from them. The barrel was lined with zinc and soldered, and it made a grand churn after I had made the plunge for it.

I took the chance of securing another cow from Mr Barr, who sold her to me for £14. Her name was "Jean." He helped me to drive her down, where I had a comfortable place for her. We had our first churning of butter on the 27th November, 1852. We made 2 1/2 lbs. We kept half-a-pound

for our own use, and I walked to Dunedin with the remainder and sold it for 10d per lb. We were now doing pretty well, selling vegetables, butter, milk and eggs, and on one occasion I sold 9 1/2 cwt. of grass, for which I got 3s per cwt. We were making a comfortable living, and our stock was increasing in every way.

Of course I still traded up and down the Harbour with my boat. The old one having got worn out, I bought one from Arthur Burns for £12 – a nice open boat it was.

Mr Watson came to me one day and asked me to take a Mr – – -, uncle of the Hon. Richardson, on board the Cornwall, at Port Chalmers. I took them down, and arranged with Mr Watson (who wanted me to take him back), that as I would have a cargo, I would not come to a landing stage, but would go to the point, where he was to meet me at a certain time. I kept my appointment, but he did not appear. He had met with some friends, I suppose; and as the tide was up, I could not wait very long, and proceeded to town. The wind was blowing a stiff gale, but we got in safely, and ran the boat up on the beach. A wave curled over us and nearly filled the boat, doing little damage, however. We were loaded with provisions, being conveyed to Mr Mercer, who was starting a grocery store.

Next morning sensational tales were going the rounds of Dunedin. When Watson found himself left behind at Port, he looked round for someone to take him to town. He had some friends with him – amongst them Messrs C. Reid and Dalton. They got a man at last (Ben Coleman was his name), who had brought a man up from the Kaik to take them. Before leaving they were quarrelling so much together that Reid and Dalton refused to go in the boat. The remainder started, and reached Black Jack's Point in safely, when by some means or other the boat capsized, and they were all drowned with the exception of the man from the Kaik. A few days after, a boatman taking some Maoris to town from Waikouaiti, saw something lying on a boulder by the water's edge. It turned put to be the body of Coleman, I think.

I must tell you that in the year '50 or'51 I took to Port for Mr J. Jones the first wool that was sent out of the Colony. It was sent to Sydney by the Scotia. Two and a-half bales it was, and I got 7s 6d for taking it down.

For sometime I had been thinking that I must get away to the country, but it was no use going without a horse. I kept looking about for one that would suit, but they were scarce. A ship came in with some aboard, and I tried to make a bargain with the Captain to take hay as part payment for one; but it was no use. I attended the sale at the sale-yards (where the Octagon now is), and purchased a mare (a bonnie beast), for which I paid £40, and a good investment it was. With some assistance I led her home and put her into the stable. I had fixed a loose box in one end of the barn, and it made a comfortable place for her. There was some excitement that day in the yard. While this mare was being led round for exhibition she jumped the fence and made off towards Pelichet Bay, but some one who had a horse followed and brought her back. She had to be broken in, and a man who professed to understand horses came down one day to begin her training. He mounted her, but was barely seated when she pitched him over her head and galloped off along the shore. I was afraid she would get into the bush, but after a while she cantered home again, and with the aid of a carrot my wife got her into the stable. She became very much attached to Mrs Campbell, who was about the only one that could ride her with safety.

At last we found a place in the country that I thought suitable. It was at Kaihiku. After looking round to see if everything was satisfactory, I purchased it. My purchase contained 80 acres.

After settling my affairs in town I started for Kaihiku, taking my cattle with me. These consisted of 2 cows, 2 heifers, 1 bull, and 1 bullock. I also had my bag, 1 blanket, 1 coverlet, 5 shirts, 2 pairs stockings, 2 pairs trousers, 2 singlets, 1 pair pants, 1 cravat, 1 night-cap, 1 towel, 1 three foot rule.

After four or five days' travelling, with numerous small adventures, I reached my destination. When I arrived I took up my abode with a couple who were not long married, and slept in the loft of their hut. I began to build at once, and the dimensions of my house were 12ft. by 12ft., 6ft. high; windows, 3ft. 9in. by 2ft. 6in. Door, 6ft. by 2ft. 9in. The fire-place was 4ft. high, 3ft. 6in. wide, and 2ft. deep.

I cut my way into the bush to get suitable trees, and built the frame according to dimensions. I cut the trees up into slabs for walls, bored holes for the wall plates, using pegs instead of nails. The roof was thatch, and I nailed small wattles over the walls inside to hold the clay. I dug a hole for the clay, and cut the tussocks rather long, so that they would be long enough to roll round the wattle. This makes a good plaster. The chimney was made of the same ingredients, and I managed to get some sawn timber for the floor; and when the door and window (which I got in Dunedin) were fixed, I set off to town for my wife.

We disposed of the boat and the place at Campbell's Bay – that being the name of the bay where I lived.

The only way to get Mrs Campbell out to the farm was by means of a horse, and as the mare was broken in, we decided she should ride. I got a side-saddle from Patterson for £12, and we got fairly started on our journey in August of 1856.

We took many necessaries of life with us; also a cat and a bantam, each in a kit. We put up at Cullen's, at Henley, and Smith's, at Toko. We pushed on to Balclutha, where we stayed a night, but by the next night we were home at Kaihiku. We had sent our cooking utensils round by schooner, and they should have been there waiting for us; but they did not arrive for some days. Meanwhile we had to go a-borrowing. We got a small goblet from a neighbour, in which we had to cook various things – first our butcher meat, then, after washing, boil the water for our tea. We had very little furniture, and no bedstead, so I set to work and made one; and then I thought there was a corner that would do nicely for a

cupboard, which I built in, and found very handy. We had a companion for the cupboard in the grotto of shifted birds, which filled another space. After all these improvements were made, our home was really comfortable and cosy.

I immediately fenced a paddock and began the cultivation of the land. I engaged a man to do some ploughing for me. His charge was 20s per day, besides which we had to feed him and the boy who drove the bullocks. We also had to lend him a horse to go and get the animals, which took till after midday; so that after having him five days or so, we had not three decent days' work. That work cost me £5 per acre. I cleared about an eighth of an acre on the edge of the bush, and planted potatoes, which turned out a splendid crop. We sold two tons beyond what we gave away and used.

We had before long a splendid kitchen garden, containing vegetables of all kinds. When the season came we sowed wheat and oats, and turned our attention to fruit trees. It was a lucky investment. They throve wonderfully, and as time went on repaid any trouble we had had with them. On one occasion I remember selling 25 cwt. of fruit.

Our cattle also throve well, and their numbers increased as time went on. We had added sheep to our live stock. I purchased them from a man in Blueskin, went there for them, and drove them to Kaihiku. The price was 35s per head. We added another room to our house, and built a dairy. We still used the churn we had invented for use in the old place down the Harbour. Everything throve and flourished, and by perseverance I got the house and stockyard made very comfortable.

I ought perhaps to mention an incident that happened while I was away at Blueskin. One afternoon the rain came down in torrents – such a downpour as we never experience now. In those days they were more like the showers of tropical regions than of temperate countries. On the day I mention, the cattle got over the Kaihiku Stream, and Mrs Campbell thought she had better go after them. She got across all

right, and drove the animals before her, but when she tried to return, the stream, owing to the rain, was running at such a rate that it carried her off her feet, and she was taken down a distance of thirty yards, where a tree was lying which stopped her progress. Had she missed the branch to which she clung she would have been washed away and drowned. She managed to scramble out of the water and up the bank, but the place where she landed was densely wooded, and she did not know where to turn for a path. Of course there were no tracks, and the undergrowth was very thick. She began to feel very frightened, for no matter how loudly she might call there was no one to hear. The prospect of being lost in the bush is not a pleasant one, and if you add to that the discomfort of soaked clothes, you will see that the situation was anything but nice. In a little while she heard the dog barking, and he soon came to where she was standing. He barked and fawned round her, making a great fuss. He ran away, and came back again barking. Mrs Campbell thought there must be something meant by this display on the part of the dog, so she caught him by the collar and followed. He guided her out of the bush, and she made her way home safely.

We kept working steadily on, tilling ground, raising sheep and cattle, and improving our garden. Many know, but most people have little or no idea of the hard work and difficulties farmers have to contend with. To make a living at farming one must always be about, and have one's eyes open; if not he may as well give it up, unless he would have it give him up. As an example of our work in 1856 (and that was only a short time after our going to the farm), from January to November we churned 346 1/2 lbs butter, and in 1857 we made 650 lbs. Of course we sold sheep and cattle besides. In 1858 our butter amounted to 812 lbs, and in 1859 we had 1117 lbs for the season.

Of course we had to keep at it late and early, but our industry was rewarded, for everything prospered, and continued to do so as years went on. Since everything else was increasing, our wants increased also, and we began to think about a

larger house, and I set to work and drew a plan. It was to be two storeys, with gable windows, and consisted of four rooms, a pantry, and a passage on the ground floor, and the same number upstairs. There was also a porch over the front door.

We had chosen a pretty site for it on a slightly elevated ridge beside a clump of Native trees, which latter added a beauty all their own to the spot. The Kaihiku stream ran at the bottom of the ridge, and the valley, studded here and there with cabbage-trees, and the Kaihiku range in the distance, made up a picture well worth looking at.

So far so good, but we had to get the materials with which to build it, and in those days, when there were no saw-mills, that was no easy task.

We had to fell the timber, and it had to be hand-sawn. The iron for the roof must be procured from Dunedin, and at the time I am speaking of, iron cost £54 per ton.

Anyhow, we made a beginning on the 22nd April, 1861, worked on as well as we could during the winter, and got into the house about the end of October. It did not take long to get settled, and we soon felt quite at home.

I ought also to say that we had named our place "Glenfalloch," after the place of that name at the head of Loch Lomond.

I sold a man fifty head of cattle, and he paid me so much on account, promising to let me have the remainder before long. He did not appear, and I began making inquiries, only to learn that he had gone away to the Old Country, and I never heard of him again.

About this time, while we were shearing, a sudden heavy downpour of rain swept over the district. The stream overflowed its banks, and the surrounding low-lying country was flooded. A number of my sheep were drowned. After the water had subsided (for the rain abated as quickly as it came on), we found fifty carcases, I think, which had got caught in wood, &c, as they were being carried along by the stream.

Nothing of any moment happened for some years. We

led a quiet, peaceful, and uneventful life – steadily working, improving our property, and increasing our live stock. We occasionally made a trip to Dunedin, which varied things a little, but I think we were always glad to return to our own comfortable home. Town was good enough, but Glenfalloch was better.

We began to long for a sight of Bonnie Scotland, and after due consideration, decided to take a trip there. We found a man whom we believed to be trustworthy, and after putting the reins in his hands we made our preparations and bade good-bye to the spot where we had spent so many peaceful, happy, but laborious years.

NEW ZEALAND. PART III. FIRST TRIP TO BONNIE SCOTLAND.

PART III.

FIRST TRIP TO BONNIE SCOTLAND.

I sigh for Scotia's shore,
An' I gaze across the sea,
But I canna get a blink
O' my ain countrie.

ON April 8th, 1880, we sailed from Port Chalmers in the good ship Canterbury, commanded by Capt. Leslie, bound for London with a cargo of wool and grain. We had strong winds and high seas night and day until the 18th, when the wind increased to a gale about midnight. The main topsail was blown to ribbons, and the ship, not having so much speed on, pooped a sea which carried away the wheel and two men with it, who were knocked about and badly hurt. The water stove in the stern windows, and washed the Captain (who was resting on a couch) right through the cabin door and into the saloon. It flooded all our cabins and the deck of the ship from bows to stern, and a precarious job the officers and men had to get her hove-to in safety. The night was mostly spent bailing the water out of the saloon. When I returned to my cabin (the door of which I had closed when coming out), and opened the door, I found it full of water, which rushed out with such force as to altogether drench and very nearly drown me. Mrs Campbell was sitting on the top of two boxes which by some means or other she had got into the berth. It was a very miserable night for us all. When daylight came everyone looked quite miserable; and the wretchedness and discomfort were enhanced by a feeling of sorrow when it was whispered from one to the other that Tom, the apprentice, had been washed overboard and lost.

We had cold, stormy weather till near the Cape; after that it was pleasant, and everything went merry as a marriage

bell, with music, singing, and dancing. As we neared the Line we met a good many ships of all nations, and it afforded amusement to signal them – whence they came and whither bound? A very little affords amusement at sea – the catching of a Cape pigeon, or the capture of a flying fish making good sport.

As we drew near the English Channel ships became more numerous, and they were nearly all steering for the great emporium of commerce – the port of London Town. In passing the Lizard we showed our number, and the skipper told me the news of our arrival would be read by his wife and friends in Dumbarton that night; and so it proved, for on the second morning, when lying at Gravesend waiting for the tide to take us to London, his wife's brother came on board, having arrived on the previous night. At 2 o'clock on Saturday, 27th June, we touched the quay at Blackwall, after a sojourn of eighty days on the Canterbury.

Next day being Sabbath we wished to go to church, but, being strangers we did not know where to go; hut a gentleman living in the same house volunteered to take us to hear Mr Spurgeon. We had the good fortune to hear the famous preacher discoursing on the Prodigal Son. We felt very pleased, and were very grateful to our friend for putting himself to a good deal of trouble to show kindness to strangers.

The next place of interest we visited was St. Paul's Cathedral. This historical edifice was designed by Sir Christopher Wren, who died on 25th February, 1723, in his 91st year. After walking round and admiring the monuments, &c, we ascended to the Library, the flooring of which consists of 2376 pieces of oak, skilfully inlaid without a single nail or peg. The Library contains about 9000 volumes. To describe the great bell – "Big Ben" – and the great clock, would take a long time; but I must say something about the Whispering Gallery, which of course we went to see. It runs entirely round the base of the cupola, and is one hundred yards in circumference, having an elegant iron railing in front. The softest whisper is heard on the opposite side, a distance of 140

feet. The attendant tells you to go to the other side and place your ear against the wall. He says in a whisper: "This place was built by Sir Christopher Wren; the first stone was laid on the 21st June, 1675, and the last in 1710; the whole was completed in fifty-five years, under the supervision of one architect and one master mason." These whispered words you can hear distinctly on the opposite side.

There is a story told of Sir James Thornhill, who painted a series of events in the life of St. Paul – his conversion on the way to Damascus, his sermon on Mars' Hill, his shipwreck off Malta, and so on. While working, the artist retired a few steps to mark the effect of the finishing touches he had just given to the head of one of the apostles, and had unconsciously reached the extremity of the scaffolding. Had he taken another step he would have been dashed on the floor far below, but a bystander who saw the danger (probably a workman), knowing there was no time to explain, snatched a brush filled with paint and dashed it across the picture. Sir James rushed forward to save his work, and so in all probability saved his life.

We also visited the Guildhall, where justice is administered and judgment given, and where all public business in connection with the Corporation of the City of London is transacted. Many ancient things are to be seen there – amongst others, very large statues of Gog and Magog, the patron saints of London; indeed, there is a museum of relics of antiquity. One thing I admired very much was the model of a merchant ship, presented by Macmillan and Sons, shipbuilders, of Dumbarton It took the first prize as a model from the Corporation of Shipwrights, London, and was presented by them to the city, and placed here for the benefit of the public.

Our visit to the Crystal Palace was doubly interesting from the fact that we witnessed the great gathering met to celebrate the centenary of Robert Raikes, the originator of Sabbath Schools. Representatives from all parts of the world assembled to do honour to the occasion, and the Sabbath School children for many miles around London were present and took part in

the ceremonies of the day. To see and hear five thousand teachers and many others singing to the accompaniment of the great organ was something never to be forgotten. This took place inside the Palace. Outside were assembled twenty-three thousand children singing hymns, accompanied by numerous military bands. All these, with onlookers added, made up a multitude and a scene wonderful to behold. Asking my way out of the grounds, I fell in with a gentleman from Tasmania, who came to England for no other purpose than to attend the conference.

A friend kindly procured an order for me to visit the Telegraph Offices – an order which secured prompt admittance on presentation – and what I saw surprised me beyond measure. The number of operators is very great, but I forget the exact figure. They were seated in groups of four round different tables, each with his or her little instrument, sending and receiving messages to or from all parts of the globe. I received some specimens of their work, which I regret exceedingly having lost.

We remained a few days longer in London, and then journeyed to Glasgow. We were in that city for a time, but to me it seemed a very different place to what it was, and we did not greatly enjoy the visit. The whole town seemed different the old familiar spots had disappeared. Towards the west, however, going up Sauchiehall street, I noticed great improvements; in fact, it looked like a new city.

We were a few days in Perth, which is a beautiful old town, with many stirring memories. Not far from Perth is the historic village of Scone, where the Kings of Scotland used to be crowned. The King's Stone, which was taken from Scone to Westminster Abbey, is still used at the coronation of British monarchs.

Leaving Perth we went on to Dumbarton, where I had many friends, and the time passed very pleasantly for some weeks. I saw very little difference in Dumbarton since I had left it, except in the matter of ship-building, which had gone ahead wonderfully.

After a very pleasant time in Dumbarton I began to think of returning to New Zealand, leaving my wife behind me for a while. She had the offer of a house at Dunoon, which she agreed to take, and was to occupy the day after I sailed.

I took my passage in a P. & O. boat the Kaiser-a-Hind – and journeyed to London by rail to join her, but found she was to sail from Southampton. Gibraltar was the first place of call, the sight of which recalled many memories of the past. We stayed there till the advertised time of sailing, and set out for Malta. We had splendid weather during our run there. Some of us went ashore for about six hours in this quaint old town, and made a few purchases, including some beautiful lace, for which the island is famed. The only difference I could see in the people was that they had copied a good many English customs, and they had cabs for hire; but business seemed to be carried on in much the same way as on my former visit.

Our next call was at Port Said, where we waited all night for the signal. In those days a ship could not go through the canal during the night. We went for a stroll through the town. It seemed a good place to spend money in, but I did not think it would be a nice place to live in for any length of time. The land is very level at Port Said. In one saloon we got plenty of music from violins played by women. Drinks were very dear, a bottle of lemonade costing as much as 4s. Of course the bottles were larger than our bottles of the same beverage.

Suez seemed a miserable, dirty place. The people are very primitive in their ways. The old-fashioned water-carriers were to be seen there, carrying water in dogskins. We remained two days, waiting for the mails from Alexandria. Ladies in Suez are very fond of donkey rides. It is a cheap method of getting to the town – the charge from the Harbour to the town being only 1s. I was wandering round while at Suez, and went into a shop where they were hammering an iron plate, piercing rivet-holes in it. There were several big men

in the place, and they were doing the work by manual labour, instead of by machinery. I was greatly interested, and watched them closely, but on looking down I saw that they were all chained together by the leg. It was a place for keeping convicts. I thought I had got low enough now, surely, and went out and down a street, when lo! I ran into a gang of the same class, guarded by two policemen, each with a rifle. I was sorry I missed a trip to Moses' Well – the same now as it was in his day. I got a peep at it through my glass. Dogs are much respected in Egypt – one dare not kill a dog. In some places the dogs keep to their own streets, and should one trespass in any other dogs' street, the trespasser is liable to be worried.

Next morning we started up the Red Sea en route for Aden. The boatswain, a very intelligent man, who had been many years in the P. & O. boats, pointed out to me Mounts Ararat and Sinai. The latter is much higher than the former. The coast is barren coming up to Aden, and the town is a miserable, dreary place. The natives amused us very much by diving for small coins.

The next place of interest on the voyage was the Straits of Babel-Mandeb. Perhaps the history of how this place fell into the hands of the British would be interesting. It is a high rock and a good place to put guns, and there would be no passing of them. Two warships were lying there, a Britisher and a Frenchman, and the officers of both met on shore. A Frenchman in confidence told one of the English officers that they were going out in the morning to hoist the French flag on Babel-Mandeb. The British did not wait for the morning, but went during the night and hoisted their flag on the spot. Morning came, and when the Frenchmen got there, they found the British ensign floating over Babel-Mandeb, and a number of jolly tars busy erecting a gun. We enjoyed ourselves very much on board with concerts, &c, every evening.

We next called at Point de Galle in Ceylon, spending two nights and one day, and had to tranship into the Cathay.

Point de Galle is a pretty place, but the heat while we were on shore was excessive. One can spend time there very agreeably, finding plenty to entertain. The native aristocrats walked through the streets with a diamond ring on each finger, and on one toe. A paper umbrella and a fancy waist-cloth usually completes his costume. We saw many beautiful flowers, but they emit no perfume.

Leaving Point de Galle, we had splendid weather and a very enjoyable passage to Albany, where we called to take in coal. We went ashore, and spent some time looking round. It seemed a very dismal place. Everything seemed dull and half dead. I got into conversation with an old Scotchman. We were passing his gate, and hearing me talk he said: "Gude day tae ye, Scottie!" "Gude day," I replied, and we chatted together for some time. He seemed pleased to hear all I could tell him of his native land.

Leaving Albany, we set out for Adelaide, where we stayed one day – a Sunday. We landed at Glenelg and went by rail to the town. I was very much delighted with Adelaide – it is so systematically planned. The buildings look very light, and there are trees planted in abundance. Towards the afternoon the wind rose, and sand and dust blew thick and fast. It was terrible. We went into a hotel to have a drink, and I asked if these dust storms were of common occurrence. They replied in the affirmative, and told us such storms are known as "Adelaide snow." Glenelg is really a pretty little place. We took on some passengers – so many, in fact, that every available space was utilised – and proceeded on our way, in due time reaching Williamstown. I noticed a man getting the New Zealand mails ready to put on board the steamer, and asked him where she was. He pointed and said: "There she is coming down the Yarra." I said, "If I get my traps, will you take me?" He said he would; so I gathered all my belongings together, stepped into the little craft, and before long was safely on board the Te Anau. We set sail that night. There was a jolly crowd on board, including some young ladies and gentlemen who seemed to enjoy themselves thoroughly.

Nothing happened worth mentioning during the voyage, and after four or live days we arrived at the Bluff, where I took farewell of the Te Anau. The Bluff being a small place, it docs not take much time, to see all there is to be seen. The only time the Bluff is nice is on a fine summer day then it is at its best. I hastened to Invercargill, where I remained for a few days enjoying myself very well, and killing time pleasantly. I met a friend there, and we made several trips to the theatre together, which were very enjoyable. We started by rail for our respective homes, his being in Dunedin. I bade my friend good-bye when the train stopped at Kaihiku, and set off to Glenfalloch, where I arrived safely, to the no small surprise of my man, who looked as if he could not believe his eyes.

1 found everything right; the animals and all else about the place seemed well taken care of. Sheep shearing time was approaching, and we set about getting all ready for it. That year we had a large number of animals to put through, but we got over the performance, and then attended to other necessary work. There is always plenty to do on a farm – something requiring repairs, fences to he mended, and so on. Then the live stock has to be looked after. Should an animal be sick, it requires tending as well as a human being. One could not afford to let the animals die, which would happen if you neglected to nurse them when out of sorts.

One thing happened while I was away which grieved me very much – the death of a favourite horse called Norval. He was a great pet of both my wife and myself, and was twenty-five years old. He disappeared, and no trace of him could be found. The man could not think what had become of him, and I was also at a loss to know; but one day I went into a clump of dense bush near the house, and there I found the remains of poor Norval. After all he was within a few yards of our home. He had evidently been forcing his way through, when a supplejack caught him across the neck, went over his shoulder and under his fore-leg, and there he was held till death freed him. Poor Norval!

I was asked about this time to give, at a soiree at Warepa, a short account of my trip Home and back. The folks seemed to enjoy it, and applauded frequently. I gave them as good a description as I could in the time, and brought the speech to a close "amid renewed cheers." I thought my address had lasted about fifteen minutes, but when talking to Mr Fleming, reporter for the Clutha Leader, he told me I had occupied the platform for three quarters of an hour. It seemed almost incredible to me, but it must have been so, I suppose.

Before leaving my wife at Dunoon I arranged to return to Scotland and bring her out again, and it was now time to set about fulfilling my promise. Accordingly, after seeing that all was right, and putting my affairs in order, I got ready for the long journey.

NEW ZEALAND. PART IV. SECOND TRIP, VIA AMERICA.

PART IV.

SECOND TRIP, VIA AMERICA.

. . . Seas between us braid hae roared
Since auld lang syne.

I HAD resolved to go this time by America, and accordingly left Dunedin on the 18th June, 1882, by the Manapouri. At Wellington I transhipped from the Manapouri to the Penguin, and went round to Onehunga; thence crossed to Auckland by rail, where we joined the 'Frisco mail boat Zealandia. Had splendid weather and a good trip to Honolulu. Going ashore to see the sights, we hired a buggy and drove out to the "Para" – a hill of which one side is perpendicular – as straight down as if sliced with a knife. This is a historical part of the island. When the present native race invaded the original inhabitants, they drove them back from the sea-shore and hemmed them in, with fierce enemies in front, and the immense precipice of the Para in their rear. The invaders pressed the poor creatures back until they drove them over the rock, where they fell to the bottom, a depth of 1600 feet. The bones can be seen there till this day.

The laws regarding the Sabbath day in Honolulu are very strict. While out walking we went to an hotel to try and get a drink. We used all our powers of persuasion, but without effect for a long time, till the proprietor saw that we really wanted it. Then he took us through numerous rooms, and only when he reached his own bedroom did he let us have what we desired. And although we had to load a quantity of sugar, the natives would not begin work till after midnight. Then they worked with a will, intermingling their work with singing hymns. I enjoyed the singing very much, and opened the port-hole that I might hear better. Time passed pleasantly and everything went well as we left Honolulu far behind and

steamed towards "the land that lies toward the setting sun," and on a fine day we sailed through the Golden Gate which leads to San Francisco.

On reaching the wharf we used all despatch to go and see the great city and find suitable accommodation. I put up at the Occidental Hotel, Montgomery Street, and was surprised to find how moderate the charges were, with every comfort. There was a nice library, where one could transact business, and also a telegraph office on the premises. I went through the city looking at the buildings, which are splendid. One hotel, called the Palace Hotel, is a magnificent place, built of white marble, and containing twelve hundred bedrooms. There is a platform on the top that is just a quarter of a mile's walk. 'Frisco is a fine city, but I should not care to live in it.

We left Oaklands by train in the afternoon, en route for New York, stopping at Sacramento, 90 miles from San Francisco. Next morning at 7 o'clock, breakfasted at Reno, 306 miles from 'Frisco, and 4490 feet up the Sierra Nevada Mountains; at 12.50, stopped at Humboldt to get dinner; at 2.30, stopped at Winnemucca, 4300 feet above sea level, and 475 miles from 'Frisco.

Friday, 14th, 6 a. m. – 820 miles from 'Frisco. Arrived at Ogden on Friday, 8.30 a. m. Left at 10 a. m. First stoppage for dinner at Evanston, a town of some pretensions, 37 miles from Ogden, and 9 miles from Omaha.

Saturday, 15th. – Breakfast at Omaha, crossed the Missouri at 8 p. m.

Sunday, 16th. – Had breakfast in a dining car attached, and it was the best and most comfortable meal we had since leaving 'Frisco. At the inns by the way one was afraid of being late, and could not get the good of what was on the table; but in the saloon car we could take out food leisurely.

Monday, 17th. – -Rose early this morning to see the great river Mississippi when the train was passing over the bridge, which is three quarters of a mile long, and so high as to let the leviathan steamboats through below. We also saw some of

the remains of the big flood on the opposite side from Burlington. We rattled along after crossing the bridge, and arrived in the great city of Chicago at 2. 45 on the same day, having run 502 miles.

I took up my abode at Shearman's Hotel, Randolph street, and visited many places in and about the city, and the great stockyard, which is about six miles away; but the growth of Chicago has been so great that it now extends out to the yards. The most remarkable thing to be seen is the killing and dressing of pigs, which is a most extraordinary operation. I will try and give some idea of it.

Having got a written order from the authorities, we presented it, and the clerk who conducted us was exceedingly kind and attentive. He took us first to the pen where the pigs go to be killed. It is really a building of two storeys, the machinery being in the upper flat, for almost everything is done by machinery. The pigs are driven into the ground flat, where there is a man standing lightly clothed, and with a long sharp knife in his hand. A chain hangs from the roof, the end of which is slipped over a hind leg of piggie (who makes a fine row all the time), and he is gradually hauled to a certain height, when the man sticks the knife in his throat, killing him almost instantly, for the blood chokes him. The carcass is passed along and dropped into a scalder. In this is a contrivance round which it is turned till all the hair is off; then it is turned into another room, still hanging by the hind leg, where the head is cut off. Passed along to another man, he disembowels the body, and throws the refuse into a waggon; passed on once more, it is cut into pieces. Then it goes to the salting-room, and (finally), to the smoke-house; and almost before you can realise that the animal is dead, he is sent out ready for food.

We also visited McCormick's Reaper and Binder Machine factory. It is an immense place, employing usually from one thousand to fifteen hundred hands.

We left Chicago on the 19th at 3.30 p. m., and travelled

all night, sleeping in the Pullman car, and arrived at the Suspension Bridge, about a mile below the great Falls of Niagara, where the train is slowed, that people may have a chance of seeing the Falls. We posted on to Buffalo, where I left the train to see if I could find my brother's two girls. I put up at the Mansion House Hotel. Next morning I started on my search, and was fortunate enough to find them. The first place I called at happened to be the shop of Ida's husband. He took me to the dwelling-house, and I was quite pleased with them – they seemed very nice girls indeed. They were very kind, and glad to see me. Ida's husband hired a carriage and pair and drove us all over the town and suburbs. We passed the place where their father is buried, and I would have liked to see the grave, but time would not permit of the delay. I was very sorry to leave them so soon, and they regretted having to part with me; but I had to leave by the 8.25 a. m. train. We travelled 432 miles to Jersey City, crossed the Hudson River, and reached New York at 10.30 on Friday night, after passing through a beautiful and picturesque country.

Learning that the steamer was to sail for Liverpool in the morning, I got up at 5 a. m., made arrangements, and was off to cross the Atlantic for Liverpool on board the City of Berlin.

Sunday, 23rd July, 1882. – Fair weather and smooth sea, There was Church service in the cabin, and a missionary on his way back to India gave us a very interesting account of his work there. On board the boat was Bishop Gilmour of Cleveland. We got into conversation, which gradually came round to secular education, and about this time the Bishop and an editor of one of the papers had been having a war of letters over it. The editor's opinion was that men rule everything, and directed the nations, while the Bishop held that God was over all. In the course of our chat I told him secular education had just been introduced in New Zealand. He said: "That is a pity, for God is all power. So sure as you leave God out of your schools, God will leave you."

Monday, 31st. – Arrived in Liverpool about 9 a. m., after a pleasant run of nine days.

August 1st. – Took train at 8.45 p. m. for Glasgow, and arrived there at 6 p. m. next day.

August 2nd. – Sailed by steamer for Dunoon, and so got to the end of my long trip of 14000 miles, in the short space of 48 days.

I made my headquarters at Dunoon – a watering place on the banks of the Clyde – during the time I was in Scotland, taking trips round the country to such places as we had any interest in.

After taking farewell of all our friends and acquaintances, many of whom came to Greenock with us, Mrs Campbell and I left by the Hauroto, which sailed from the Tail of the Bank at 3.30 p. m. on October 25th, 1882.

We had splendid weather and good times till we came in sight of Cape Town. We were a merry crew, and everyone felt pleased when told that we were to call at the Cape.

As we neared the coast the morning was lovely and the sea beautiful, and literally swarming with living creatures. I noticed black clumps here and there on the waves, but could not imagine what they were till I found they were seals – several lying huddled up together, sleeping. They looked peculiar, and on the slightest sound they dispersed. There was everything to gladden the senses as we walked the deck on Tuesday – Table Mountain standing out with a grandeur and prominence which told those who knew its position that we should soon be safely anchored under its shadow. The town, when seen from the bay after dropping anchor, looked as if perfect peace reigned throughout, though one could detect busy portions. We remained one day and a night.

We had some very intellectual evenings after leaving the Cape, having three ministers among the passengers – one of these a missionary from the New Hebrides. Besides this we had several concerts, and all who preferred could have cards or draughts.

On the 10th Nov. Mr James Craigie, after a lingering though not painful illness, died of galloping consumption. He was buried on the 11th at 9.30. The Rev. G. Barclay conducted the short service over his remains. Poor man, he left his home to benefit his health, leaving his wife and children behind.

Master Herbert Wilson fell down the poop deck stairs about the same time, sustaining injuries which, although not thought much of at first, turned out very serious, and he died on the 11th. When the rumour went round the ship that "little Wilson was dying," there was pain and consternation on every face; even the hardy sailors hushed their voices. He was only ten years old, and was travelling alone from London to Wellington. He was a clever little chap, and a general favourite. The lad's mother was dead, but much sympathy was expressed for his father, who would then be anxiously awaiting his return, and who would soon learn that he could never behold his boy on earth again.

At 9.33 on the 12th the engines were slopped, and all assembled to hear the solemn service read over his remains, and pay a last tribute to his memory. Many a tear fell down the faces of friends so lately made, yet so soon to be his mourners. The Rev. G. Barclay conducted the burial service.

We remained at Melbourne two days and two nights, doing the sights, but the weather was wet, so that going about was not pleasant.

We left Melbourne on the 15th, and had fair weather until off the coast of New Zealand, when it was wretched – the worst we had had on the passage; but ultimately it cleared, and we had a pleasant trip up the coast.

Arrived at Port Chalmers safely, we collected our luggage, took train to Dunedin (passing on the way the scene of our early struggles), and put up at the Coffee Palace. We spent some time having a look at the fair city of Dunedin – the Edina of the South. Dunedin is a well built, picturesque city; and the surrounding hills form a fitting frame for a charming

picture. Seen from one of its many hills, Dunedin, enhanced by the fresh green hue of bush and tree, and the glittering waters of the bay, affords many romantic views, which please the eye and impress the mind.

It was, however, getting near shearing time, and I hurried home to make all arrangements, leaving my wife at the Coffee Palace until the shearing should he finished.

While we were in Dunedin we purchased a bit of land at Waltham rise, St Clair, and we resolved to build a home and reside there. We were getting tired of the country; and, thinking we had worked long enough, decided to take our leisure and enjoy a well-earned rest.

We decided to have our house built in the Elizabethan style, and to contain seven rooms besides servant's bedroom, pantry, bathroom, scullery, linen press, corridor, and hall. Mrs Campbell returned to Glenfalloch till the house should be finished.

Having found a satisfactory tenant for the farm, we left it for our home at St. Clair in March, 1883. We liked the place very much, and named our home "Milton House." I have lived there ever since.

Not long ago I sent to the Loch Lomond and Vale of Leven Regatta Club some programmes of the first regatta held by the club, and received in return from Mr W. E. Gilmour (commodore), a book entitled "Historic Families and Notable People of the Lennox." He also told me of the success which yearly follows the club I organised. Its membership is now thirteen hundred.

I think, as I have now gone over nearly seventy years of my life, that I will stop here; and if at some future time I take up the pen and add a few lines to this, well and good. Meantime I am in the hands of a wise Providence, and am content to rest there.

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