Canada's Coming of Age: John and Ellen Tracey

By Evelyn Dreiling

The last book in the Tracey family trilogy deals with the lives of the grandchildren of Daniel Tracey, the rebellious spirit who came to Canada from Ireland in the early 1800's. John Tracey lives in the Montreal area during the nefarious Gilded Age brought on by the reckless railroading investment and profiteering in land speculation in The West. He is the hopeless romantic who refutes the cold-blooded profiteering and reckless speculation and joins the union, trying to take the side of the little man struggling to survive and raise a family.
John's sister, Ellen, prim and destined to be an old maid, falls helplessly in love with a married man and in spite of all, pursues her dream of marriage and family, only to have it shattered by a smallpox epidemic.
Set against the historical background of 19th century Canada, this historical fiction book touches on the industrial revolution and the strained relations between England and its colony, struggling for independence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evelyn Dreiling
• Release date: Apr 28, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310918353

Evelyn Dreiling

Evelyn Cohoon Dreiling has recently retired from the Public Service where she worked at National Defence for 10 years. She has pursued a two-year program of Commercial Art at Concordia University, Montreal, Quebec and Nursing at Queen Elizabeth Hospital, Montreal. She has taught watercolour courses and enjoys doing watercolor images for her book covers and other sketches. She spent many years travelling and living in parts of Canada and the United States. She now makes her home in North Vancouver, BC, where she lives near her two adult children and her daughter-in-law. She always had a great love of books, and is particularly interested in Canadian history, which she attempts to portray through the lives of ordinary people and their stories; she is an avid researcher and will no doubt will be working on another historical fiction novel soon.

Book preview

Canada's Coming of Age: John and Ellen Tracey

The continuing story of an Irish family, the Traceys, in Canada; in the third part of the trilogy, many pushed out West seeking their fortune during the period 1860 to the early 1900s. Set against a background of social, political and labour unrest during the Industrial Revolution.

.

by Evelyn Cohoon Dreiling

.

www.smashwords.com

Copyright March 2015, Evelyn Cohoon Dreiling

Published by Evelyn Dreiling at Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Illustration by Evelyn Dreiling, suggesting the Montreal waterfront in 1880s.

.

Table of Contents

Registry Data

Prologue

Chapter 1- The Traceys, Montreal 1876

Chapter 2 - Michael, St. Columban

Chapter 3 - Andrew and Ellen

Chapter 4 - The Grand Trunk Railway

Chapter 5 - Elizabeth and Joseph get married

Chapter 6 - John's New Job, Labour Unrest

Chapter 7 - The Gilded Age, Knights of Labour

Chapter 8 - Opening up the West 1880s, Andrew

Chapter 9 - Western Land For Sale, Annie Malone

Chapter 10 - Epidemic of 1885, Ellen

Chapter 11 - MacKenzie and Mann, Railway Contractors, Migrants

Chapter 12 - Thomas Tracey, 1899, John and Foley Brothers

Chapter 13 - John and James in Ontario, Bound for Glory, Manhattan

Acknowledgements

Bibliography

About the Author

Endnotes

Introduction

This book is the third in a series of novels portraying the lives of the Traceys, the Irish immigrant family who came from Ireland in the early 1800s to escape poverty. Beginning with Daniel and his rebellious spirit, his first experience with the cod fisheries in St. John's, Newfoundland, his involvement with Montreal politics in the 1830s when he befriends his mentor, Doctor Daniel Tracey, the story winds its way through the early years of Canada's strides towards self-government.

The first book focuses mainly on the creation of a new parish established for the English-speaking Irish in St. Columban, in the forest near the North River, north of Montreal. The Traceys settle on a homestead there, and Daniel takes up arms alongside the French Patriotes in defence of democracy and freedom as interpreted by the representative in the Legislative Council, Louis Papineau who, with his masterly rhetoric, is pushing hard for reforms.

The second book focuses on Daniel's son, Michael, the polar opposite of Daniel, a quiet and thoughtful man who guides his family away from St. Columban when a scandal threatens to rip the family apart. He emerges successful, carving out a career as school principal through the years, dealing with the quickly changing face of the emerging metropolis of Montreal.

This story deals with the children of Michael and his wife, Mary, who continue to deal with changing fortunes in the big city with its depression and booms, with its labour strife and increased immigration from all over Europe and the United States, and with the next generation of the family which is starting to seek their fortunes elsewhere in the expanding Dominion of Canada and the United States.

Registry Data

Daniel Tracey, born 1787 in Tipperary, Tipperary County, Irelandi; died 1837 in Quebec (Lower Canada). Married Frances Manning (Mahning), born in Ireland. This is the available information obtained from the Tracey Clan website, as well as on the official record in the Catholic parish of St. Colomban, a small parish in northern Quebec, about 50 miles north of Montreal. The son of Daniel and Frances include Michael Tracey, born 1819, and Daniel, born 1834. Other children are not listed in that record:

Michael Tracey¹, Tipperary, Ireland, born 1819. Son of Daniel Tracey and Frances Manning. Married Mary McCarthy (born 1822) on November 7, 1843 in St. Colomban parish, Quebec. They had several children. Date of death unknown: between 1877 and 1891. Note that the dates of birth given for the children may indicate the date of baptism:

(i) Daniel Tracey, (born July 27, 1844); died September 25, 1844) according to the records in the St. Colomban parish register;

(ii) John Tracey (born July 17, 1845); married, name unknown. Died September 15, 1922.

(iii) James Tracey (born March 4, 1847); married Christina Bruce in 1870 in the Trinity Chapel of the Anglican church of Montreal. Died September 1, 1922.

(iv) Ellen Tracey (born December 6, 1848);

(v) Elizabeth Tracey (born April 23, 1851); married Joseph Trudeau, (born 26 March, 1857) in Montreal, Quebec, son of Narcisse Trudeau, (born 1820 in Quebec) and Marguerite Charron, (born 1830 in Varennes, Quebec). Elizabeth and Joseph were married in Ste. Cunegonde, Montreal, Quebec on 19 June, 1876. Elizabeth died in Montreal, Quebec, in 1895.

(1) Children of Elizabeth and Joseph:

Joseph Trudeau, (born 26 July, 1877);

Emile Trudeau, (born April 21, 1879);

Louis Trudeau, (born October 29, 1883);

Alphonse Trudeau, (born January 29, 1885);

Wilfrid Trudeau, (born May 3, 1886);

Marguerite Trudeau, (born October 30, 1889).

(vi) Martin Tracey (born May 19, 1854); married, name unknown.

(1) Grandchildren of Martin Tracey:

Haritte Tracey, (born June 1893);

Madeline Tracey, (born September, 1895).

(vii) Michael Daniel Tracey (born July 25, 1856)

(viii) Margaret Tracey, (born June 4, 1858). She joined a convent at a very young age;

(ix) Patrick Tracey, (born March 16, 1860; died 19 days later);

(x) Michael Tracey, (born April 24, 1862).

Daniel Tracey², (born 1834 in St. Columban, Quebec, Canada), son of Daniel Tracey and Frances Manning, brother of Michael Tracey.

Martin Tracey, (born 1801, Ireland). Married Elizabeth McNally, (born 1816, Ireland), on July 7, 1845 in St. Columban, Quebec. Another family of Traceys who immigrated and settled in St. Columban in the early 19th century:

(i) Mary Tracey, (born 1835, St. Columban);

(ii) Jane Tracey, (born 1838);

(iii) John Tracey, (born 1840);

(iv) Bridget Tracey, (born 1842);

(v) Gabe Tracey, (born 1844);

(vi) Ann Tracey, (born July 7, 1845*);

(vii) William Tracey, (born 1846);

(viii) Martin Tracey, (born 1850);

(ix) Eliza Tracey, (born 1852).

* Fact - Martin Tracey and Elizabeth were married on the same day that Ann Tracey was baptized in the St. Columban church.

Note that two of the children of Daniel Tracey and Frances Manning are fictional characters in the story - Maggie and Annie. Most of the other characters in the story are based on real persons and the historical background is authentic.

There is another John Tracey who appears in the St. Columban registry as having married Jane Sinnott; the couple had two children, Daniel Tracey and Jane Tracey. There was very little information with which to link him to this Tracey family. He appeared in the 1842 Census in St. Columban as having shared a lot with Michael Tracey.

The Moens:

Ole Moen, (born 1842 in Nordre Fraens Prgj - lived in Hedmark, Norway). Married Anna, in Norway, (born approx. 1866)

Children:

(i) Orgwell Moen (born approx 1887, Norway)

(ii) Birgitte Moen (born approx 1889);

(iii) Peder Moen (born approx 1894);

(iv) Berit Moen (born approx 1898).

Prologue

The industrial age was preceded by ingenious men who developed tools and processes to speed up the work and lighten the load of the worker as far back as the 18th century, although few of them became titans of industry. It took a special talent and an ability to see a solution for a problem, but it took a different breed of men to bring these ideas to fruition. The former required dreamers and tinkerers. The latter called for risk-takers and adventurers, men with a talent for raising money and investing. It sometimes happened that inventors were ahead of their time; their inventions required precision tooling and materials which had not yet been perfected.

These inventions all had the aim of increasing the pace of production and its efficiency as well as making better use of resources and manpower. There was Eli Whitney who developed his cotton gin in 1793; James Watt who in 1769 patented improvements on the Newcomen steam engine, (invented by Newcomen in 1712), making it more efficient; and many other inventors and developers who modified and improved textile manufacturing.

But for all intents and purposes, it is felt that the industrial age truly got underway in the 19th century with the instigation of men of industry who took these inventions a step further and turned them into profitable enterprises. Robert Fulton had a measure of success with his steamboats which plied the Hudson River in New York State. But it was Samuel Cunard who furthered this development in a significant way when he began steamship service across the Atlantic in 1840. Another innovator was George Stephenson who used James Watt's steam engine to begin rail service between Liverpool and London.ii The introduction of railways were one of the most significant steps undertaken, vastly improving trade and commerce, and was germane to creating a unified country, Canada, out of a conglomeration of disparate, unruly colonies in 1867. The textile industry, the transport industry - ships, rail, cars - the energy industry - oil wells, steel-making - all played a very significant role in energizing America to the benefit of the titans of industry and the workers who profited by the increased employment opportunities and the general population who could enjoy the fruits of their labour.

All this manufacturing and development required raw materials - coal, copper, silver, and many other resources. There were plenty of jobs for those willing to do the dirty, dangerous, and back-breaking work to extract these precious commodities.iii What American industry produced but didn't use was shipped out to ports overseas.

Then came great improvements in communication: Samuel Morse who invented the telegraph in 1836; Alexander Graham Bell who invented the telephone in 1876; Thomas Edison who patented a whole succession of inventions to light up the night and run the machines; and Marconi who invented the wireless. Later came the radio, thanks to the contribution of many inventors such as a worker in Thomas Edison's lab, William J. Hammer, who invented the vacuum tube; this in itself led to the development of television. It is hard to conceive the wonder and excitement their inventions incurred because it is hard for us to imagine a world before these inventions came into being.

It was an age of discovery, a time when men with big dreams came to America to realize their ambitions, to become accomplished and prosperous. The New World was a land rich with promise, and young men came by the thousands, their families later accompanying them across the Atlantic to the ports of New York, Boston, Halifax, Montreal and Quebec City from all corners of Europe. Where the immigration numbers of the past decades were dominated by migrants from the British Isles, Ireland, Scotland, and France, now, towards the end of the 19th century, they counted many people from Western Europe, and later, Eastern Europe: Ukrainians, Poles, Italians, Scandinavians, Ruthenians, Galicians, and countless others. The numbers swelled until it became necessary to slow down the flood or be swamped.

Chapter One

The Traceys - Montreal, 1876

John Tracey was tired. As a favour to his new employer, he had completed some errands at the end of his shift, and was heading home on the Tramcar which ran along Notre Dame street at the south end of Montreal, dipping down towards the waterfront area before it came back up along Peel street and headed east again.

John was a handsome and still young-looking Irish lad of forty, with a light complexion and dark curly hair which set off his dark brown eyes. He was wearing his crisp black uniform, a formal morning coat, with an elegant white shirt topped off with a neat ascot, giving him a very elegant air. He had inherited his grandfather's short stature but his sturdy frame made him no less able to defend himself capably when called upon. But tonight he was tired after putting in a long day, and he sat by the window on the rickety car this gray afternoon, watching as a large number of new arrivals made their way slowly up the wide avenues, away from the docks.

One of the tall ships, whose masts were barely visible above the tall buildings, had just berthed and people were disembarking as the cargo was being unloaded and transferred noisily to the carters who rushed to and fro with their wagons. It was easy to spot the newcomers who had just disembarked; they had that permanent, awe-struck look on their faces as they tried to take in all the sights of the new city. They were dressed in all manner of clothing, from simple homespun to the most elaborate colourful ethnic costumes. The men wore simply cut jackets and their wives and children wrapped themselves in felted shawls and cloaks. The first-class passengers wore trim dark suits and high beaver pelt top hats (probably using the beaver skins shipped out to Europe by the Canadian fur traders). And the women wore chic long dresses with waist-length jackets and large, elaborate veiled and feathered hats. Their haggard faces belied the rigours of the Trans-Atlantic voyage in which families, especially those in steerage, had little decent food or drinking water, and no privacy or space to get comfortable. They were anxious and unsure where to go, and it was thanks to the agencies, like the Irish Benevolent Society, that these immigrants were steered towards their destination by the sympathetic volunteers. Many didn't have a destination; these naive chaps were led to believe all kinds of fantastic stories about a land paved with gold, where everyone could become rich. These were the unfortunates who were preyed upon by the unscrupulous rabble who cheated and robbed them and treated them in a most abysmal fashion.

John watched the now very familiar parade of newcomers. Their numbers had increased greatly since the advent of faster steamer ships and cheaper fares. As well, land agents and promoters on those distant shores were using all manner of enticements to lure people to America, building up the image of a highly prosperous new country in a stage of intense development and in need of workers. Although the free land still existed in theory, an initiative of the government to encourage settlement of much-needed workers, the speculators often took advantage of the situation, illegally buying up blocks of lots and reselling them for profit.

But out of the crowd, one face drew his attention all of a sudden. One man, perhaps in his fifties, was obviously a seaman by the looks of his black close-fitting knitted cap, slickers and boots, and his large duffle bag. But there was something familiar about that face ... he couldn't place it, but he kept watching him. John hurriedly made his way to the back and got off at the next stop and looked for the sailor again. He was tall, and he appeared, then disappeared quickly in the throng. Within minutes, he spotted him again. He couldn't imagine himself just walking up to him, he was not that brazen, but he had to find out who this man was. So he decided to follow him.

The man kept climbing up the hill at a galloping gait, swaying from side to side as if to counter the motion of a ship. John had to hurry to keep up with him. The man rounded the corner, and John followed him. But once around the corner, he lost sight of him. But he kept on, hoping that he would soon pick up his trail again. He came near a narrow alleyway when all of a sudden, the man stepped out in front of him, and stared at him, arms folded, with a hard look in his eyes.

Wot yer be about, me lad? Who are ye? he asked with a thick Irish brogue.

John stammered I'm John, John Tracey. At that, the man started laughing uproariously.

Wall, I think ye'd better step in to me office in 'ere, me lad, he said, pointing to the pub, because I think we've got some business, we do he said, as a smile filled is narrow, craggy face. And it was at that moment when John realized that this man bore an amazing resemblance to his grandfather. John followed him into the bar, more curious than ever; they ordered an ale.

As they headed towards an empty booth, John asked him how he knew that he was being followed.

Son, I've been in and out of more trouble than ye'd ivver knowed about in yer young life, and a sixth sense comes natural. And, why ivver in a crowd like that of poor immigrants would somebody be chasing the likes of me in that monkey suit? he answered, smirking.

They found a booth by the window, then the man sat down heavily:

Oof, ahh! - I've gotta get me land legs under me! he grinned.

John lowered his head, searching his brain for answers. Then he turned to the man:

You're Uncle Daniel, aren't you? said John. And Daniel smiled and nodded. My God, we all wondered what happened to you, we hadn't heard anything in years. We had given you up for dead.

Och, I know. I'm not one for letter-writin' an' such. And I don't know 'ow many times I wanted to come 'ere to see you, and somehow it nivver came to pass. I jes' kept putting it off, I did, he said apologetically.

How long has it been? asked John.

"I left St. Columban back in 1851.iv It's been almost 25 years. 'Ard to believe, 'tis. he shook his head. Yes, back then I got them yearnin's to travel, see the world. I tried to explain it to me sainted Mother, but she dinna understand. She was jes angry because she had lost me Da and now I was desertin' 'er too. But I weren't cut out for life of a farmer, just bustin' a gut tillin' that thin, dry soil that would barely yield one decent crop a year. There weren't no money in that. I wanted adventure, a chance to prove meself. I had to go. She just dinna understand." he spoke quietly.

I can barely remember that, I was only about six years old at the time. said John. "But well remember all the stories about me Grampa.v I always felt that Grampa suffered a grave injustice, the way he died fightin' for them Patriotes like he did back in 1837. Them poor buggers nivver stood a chance against them redcoats. John took another sip of his ale. Why do ye suppose Grampa did that in the first place?" asked John.

Politics, mostly. 'E was led by that rebellious Papineau, him wot inspired thousands to fight for democracy. Dey was hard done by, dem settlers; the elites were runnin' the show in govermmint and dey had complete control, leavin' the settlers to fend fer themselves. Papineau was trying to organize supporters to force reforms on that Legislative Assembly in Lower and Upper Canada. But the British backed the elites, so the only chance dey had was to rebel. We tried to get Da to stay away from dem Patriotes, we knew dere would be trouble, but you know 'ow yer Grampa could be - stubborn - like all us Traceys. he snorted.

How well I know. said John. We have a lot to catch up on! he said.

And John started talking about the family. Michael, Daniel's brother, was the polar opposite of Daniel. His plan was to become a priest, but circumstances led to his abandoning his vocation and getting married instead, and raising a family.

Yes, Da got married to Mary McCarthy, even though her parents were dead set against it. Her father especially ! said John.

Ah, Mary McCarthy. I remember 'er well. She was a cute one, full of spunk. But her father, John, kept a pretty close watch on 'er, and it's a wonder she was able to marry at all. said Daniel.

Yes, then Da went into teaching. He taught at St. Columban for a while, then he moved back to Montreal, and got a job as an Assistant Principal for St. Anne's school in Griffintown. He started to develop some sort of a mental failing, I think he became senile. He eventually became too ill to teach and now he is back in St. Columban, living with his mother, Fran. John explained.

My god, me poor brother. But 'e was always a strange one, that Michael. We didn't get along too well, we used to get into the most awful fights. But he nivver wanted to use his fists, he just backed away from a fight every time. Used to frustrate me to no end. said Daniel. And me mother used to defend him all the time. And me father would tell 'er to let 'im be, to let 'im face it like a man. But it was no use.

He then turned to John. So what are ye doin' with yerself, John? he asked.

Och, I was doing construction work for several years. I was supposed to be in line for a foreman's job. I worked really hard, and managed a small crew on this big bank job. But then, all of a sudden, the boss called me into the office, told me to pick up me pay and leave. He said he had to lay me off and gave me a really stupid reason for it, as far as I'm concerned. But I know what the real reason was. I had joined a union, and the new owners of the bank had hired some union busters and were looking for ways to get rid of us union men to bring in their own cheap labour. So - just like that - I was out of a job. And the union couldn't do nothing about it. There was a lot of us guys who lost our jobs; then we found that we couldn't get work anywhere else in construction either. We was blacklisted. John slammed his fist on the table; he was still very upset about it.

Sons of bitches said Daniel.

But anyway, I found some work, well, seein' as you're me Uncle I'll tell you no lies, but I haven't told anyone in the family about it. But I'm working as a Butler for Mrs. Annie Wilson in Westmount he said sheepishly.

So that explains these duds. I thought ye'd be doing concierge work or sumpin' Daniel said.

I haven't told anyone in the family about it, so you'll keep me secret, will ye, please? he asked.

Sure John. But you jes' leave it to ol' Dan'l 'ere, I'll git ye sumpin' better by and by, ye'll see. I know lots of people.

That is music to me ears. Said John.

John had many stories he wanted to tell Daniel. But instead he decided to give him a chance to tell his story, to learn what had happened to him all these years. Daniel indulged him for a little while, then he seemed to grow very tired. He pointed to his duffle bag on the bench:

Me bag is ready to be either buried or treated to a good hot tub of lye soap, I'll tell ye. I've not been near a washtub for three months, and I'll soon stink up the place in 'ere. said Daniel. Do ye know a place where I could get a good washing done? he asked.

John laughed. I know a perfect place. he said, and the two men finished their beer, and trudged on over to St. Urbain street to his sister's place.

Ellen had been given authority to stay in Michael's home, where she had lived many years, and did a good job of keeping the place up. John's sister was very responsible, and had taken over the duties of the household after Michael's wife, Mary had died years ago. The home was in a desirable location, on a street lined with fine looking brick three-storey homes trimmed out with ornate wooden doors and windows, with very small grassed in plots in the front yards. It looked very inviting.

The men walked up to the porch and rang the doorbell. After a brief hesitation, they rang again. Ellen had started teaching school part-time at the Ste. Anne's Girls' School, where her father had been principal for many years. But she was generally home at this time.

Ellen opened the door. She was an attractive brunette with long hair streaked with a little grey pulled back into a bun. She was tall and thin, and wore the traditional long black dress with a little white lace collar, and white apron of the lady of the house. She was in the midst of preparing a late meal. She looked briefly at John and smiled, but then her eyes locked on his visitor, and her astonished look went from puzzlement to incredulity.

Land sakes alive, if it ain't the dead come back to life. Is it you, Daniel? Whatever brings you 'ere? she said. And Daniel hardly knew what to say. After a couple of awkward minutes, he said:

Hello Ellen. Umh ... may we come in? he said awkwardly.

Of course, of course. Faith and begorrah, where's me manners? of course, come right in she said as she grabbed him around the neck. My land, if you ain't the picture of our Grampa, isn't he, John?

You've turned into a beautiful lassie, Ellen. and he smiled as he sauntered into the front room, dragging his bag.

Och, stuff yerself, I'm no sech thing she said, and she raised her hand as if to dismiss him.

No, it's true Ellen. I've seen many a young lass and the lot o' them couldn't hold a candle to ye he said smiling. And enjoyed the effect it was having on her.

I'm sorry about me bag 'ere, but I wondered if I could bring ye to do something with this load of putrefaction or would I be better to burn it?

Ellen's nose started to curl up and she uttered a sound of disgust. Best ye bring that out to the back porch and we'll deal with that later. she said.

Why are you dressed so formal-like, John? asked Ellen.

John shot a look at Daniel.

Och, he's jes' gittin' an outfit for a weddin' wot's comin' up, ain't ye, John? he said smiling.

Sort of. said John. I'll tell you about it later. John said absently.

Ellen just humpfed, and then turned towards the kitchen.

I was just getting a meal together for Danny and Mike, but you're most welcome to join us. I'll just put a few more tatties in the stew. Would that be alright? asked Ellen.

That would be jes' perfect, Ellen. It's been so long since I've 'ad a 'ome-cooked meal he said wistfully ... and it smells delicious.

Ellen started in. She explained that his brother, Michael, had ten children, but two did not survive. She ran down the list of each name and their current whereabouts. Daniel tried to follow it all, but his tiredness was really showing now. He just sat quietly and listened. Then she went back into the kitchen.

Two of his nephews arrived, Danny and Mike, aged 22 and 14, and they had to be introduced because they had not known Daniel. Indeed, they rarely heard anything about their Uncle Daniel and had just about forgotten him altogether.

But the family gathered around the large wooden dining table, and Daniel seemed more at ease after he had a bit to eat, and he started telling everyone his sea stories, keeping everyone well entertained. They laughed and joked through the evening, and the boys never tired of asking about his sea voyages and Daniel was more than happy to oblige.

Yup, I sailed with the best an' the worst of 'em, to all the ports on all the seven seas ! he said proudly.

Did you get to meet any pirates, Uncle Daniel? asked Mike eagerly.

Och, that I did, and they was a miserable lot of tars, they was. They lived by their wits and 'ad a lot of pretty close calls runnin' up 'gainst the tradin' ships. Them scallywags was always after treasure, always lookin' for the main chance. They robbed the tradesmen all along the coast o' New England, jes 'bout drivin' dem Captains crazy. said Daniel.

Did you meet Blackbeard Uncle Daniel? Mike asked again. He was always so full of questions, that Ellen had to simmer him down often, to prevent his wearing out the guests.

Och no. An' it 'twas me pleasure not to meet 'im, to be sure. That ol' ... and he hesitated a bit, remembering that he was in the company of a lady and young children. ... that ol' pirate was the worst o' them. He could only be trusted to do the exact opposite o' what 'e said 'e would do. But 'e finally met 'is maker years ago, and is probably down in Davy Jones' Locker now he laughed.

He was enjoying watching the boys with their wide-eyed expression on their upturned faces.

But one of the worst of the pirates was Shanghai Kelly", the last of the buccaneers. 'E used to crimp men (kidnap them) and force them to work on the big South Sea clippers. 'E 'ad a reputation for using all sorts o' tricks to get men on board, and dose 'em with opium and whiskey so that they was far out to sea 'afore they knew wot was 'appenin'. Then he would sell 'em to the ships. Them big clippers took a lot of manpower to sail, so they was always lookin' for men and they weren't picky. Kelly 'ad a red beard, and a fiery temper to match. 'E was really fearsome. Far as I know, 'e's still out there, the ol' buccaneer."vi he paused and took a couple of more spoonfuls of the stew, complimenting Ellen on the delicious flavour.

Ye would'na wanted to meet them Mike, if ye really knew what scallywags those men were. They could give you the nicest smile, then all the while slittin' yer throat without even a pause.

The young men were very impressed.

John asked him about the so-called 'Letters of Marque' which the British had issued some time ago to 'legalize' the privateers along the east coast. These certificates permitted the ships to stop and board any arriving ships from foreign ports to confiscate their goods in the name of the British Monarch, thus forming a very effective blockade in times of war.

No, they's stopped them Letters of Marque a long time ago. Too much abuse. Every fishin' trawler took advantage and no ship on the open sea was safe. 'Tis bad enough now, without them letters. answered Daniel.

The evening wore on, but soon it was time to retire, and Ellen offered to put Daniel up overnight; he accepted gratefully. He could barely muster the energy to head up the stairs to the little room.

John shuddered when he saw Daniel heading into that room. It was the place where his dear half-sister Caolin had died after she had suffered at the hands of one of those miserable, accursed Feniansvii back in 1866. But she was long gone now, and he had adjusted to the loss, although he never really forgot about it.

John explained to Ellen that he needed to get home and get changed out of his uniform, so he opted to head back to his little flat in Griffintown.

As he was going through the front door, Ellen said:

We must let everyone in the family know about this, so that they can come out and meet Daniel. We could have a grand family reunion. and John could see that she by the faraway look in her eyes was already making big plans for it.

You know, Ellen, I would go slow on that. Daniel has been away so long, he's going to need some time to adjust. Somehow I don't think he's ready to deal with all his relatives at one fell swoop; it would be just too much for him John suggested.

You're probably right, John. We'll wait before we do anything, and I'll be sure to ask him first before I plan anything. said Ellen.

Besides, I think there is an awful lot we don't know about him. I mean, twenty-five years is a very long time. And have you noticed, he doesn't look very well. John added.

The next morning Ellen awoke. The damp air in the bedroom caused her to shudder and reach for her shawl. Her first thoughts went to lighting the fire in the big wooden stove in the kitchen. But as she stirred, she could hear unfamiliar noises in the next bedroom, and immediately recalled her unscheduled visitor sleeping in the little bed. What a shock that had been! She felt a mixture of joy and apprehension as she wondered what was going to happen now that Daniel was back. But that was too much to think about so early in the morning, so she drifted over to the window and threw open the sash to hear the early sounds of nature being gradually drowned out by the growing clatter of the awakening city. She walked past her full-length mirror, then turned back as she contemplated the remarks that Daniel had made when he arrived. She hadn't taken much notice of her appearance to date;