The Harris-Ingram Experiment Part 9

Approaching Queenstown, the green forests and fields and little white homes of fishermen and farmers are visible along the receding sh.o.r.e.

Roach's Point, four miles from Queenstown is reached, where the mails are landed and received, if the weather is bad, but Captain Morgan decided to steam into Queenstown Harbor, one of the finest bays in the world, being a sheltered basin of ten square miles, and the entrance strongly fortified. Within the harbor are several islands occupied by barracks, ordnance and convict depots, and powder magazines. This deep and capacious harbor can float the navies of the world. In beauty it compares favorably with the Bay of Naples.

Cove, or Queenstown, as Cove is called, since the visit of Queen Victoria in 1849, has a population of less than ten thousand. It is situated on the terraced and sheltered south side of Great Island. Here for his health came Rev. Charles Wolfe, author of "Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note."

In the amphitheatre-shaped town on parallel streets rise tiers of white stone houses, relieved by spire and tower. On neighboring highest hills are old castles, forts, and a tall white lighthouse.

One or more of Her Majesty's armored warships may always be seen within the bay. The "Majestic" dropped anchor in the quiet harbor, and the company's lighter came along side with pa.s.sengers for Liverpool, and to take ash.o.r.e the Queenstown pa.s.sengers, and the mails which, checked out, numbered over 1600 sacks. The transatlantic mail is put aboard the express and hurried to Dublin, thence from Kingston to Holyhead, via a swift packet across St. George's Channel, and to its destination, thus saving valuable hours in its delivery throughout Europe.

Several small boats appeared bringing natives who offered for sale fruit, Irish laces, and canes made of black bog oak, with the shamrock carved on the handles. Mrs. Harris was much pleased to renew her acquaintance with the scenes of her girlhood, having sailed from Queenstown for Boston when she was only ten years old.

The baggage was left on the steamer to go forward to Liverpool, and Alfonso led the way aboard the lighter, and from the dock to the Queen's Hotel. Each carried a small satchel, with change of clothing, till the trunks should be overtaken.

At the hotel Alfonso found the longed-for cablegram from his father which read as follows:--

Harrisville,--

_Mrs. Reuben Harris, Queen's Hotel, Queenstown, Ireland._

Employees still out. Mills guarded. Will hire new men. Searles visits Australia. All well. Enjoy yourselves. Love.

Reuben Harris.

"It's too bad that father and Gertrude couldn't be with us," said Mrs.

Harris.

The lunch ash.o.r.e of Irish chops, new vegetables, and fruit was a decided improvement on the food of the last few days. The Harrises after a stormy sea voyage were delighted again to put foot on mother earth, to enjoy the green terraces, ivy-clad walls, cottages, and churches, and also to see the shamrock, a tiny clover, which St. Patrick held up before the Irish people to prove the Holy Trinity. Lucille found the pretty yellow furz, the flower which Linnaeus, the famous Swedish botanist, kissed.

Alfonso suggested that they take the part rail and part river route of a dozen miles to Cork, the third city of Ireland. En route are seen beautiful villas, green park-like fields, rich woods, and a terrace that adorns the steep banks of the River Lee. A ruined castle at Monkstown is pointed out, which a thrifty woman built, paying the workman in goods, on which she cleared enough to pay for the castle, except an odd groat, hence the saying, "The castle cost only a groat."

A delightful day was spent at Cork, an ancient city, which pagans and Danes once occupied, and which both Cromwell and Marlborough captured.

Here Rev. Thomas Lee, by his preaching, inclined William Penn, "Father of Pennsylvania," to become a Quaker. Here was born Sheridan Knowles, the dramatist, and other famous writers.

After visiting the lakes of Killarney and Dublin, the Harris family took a hasty trip through England.

CHAPTER VIII

COLONEL HARRIS RETURNS TO HARRISVILLE

The strong will of Reuben Harris was to meet its match, in fact its defeat. His plans for a well rounded life were nearing a climax when the telegram from his manager Wilson changed all his plans, and standing on the pier, as his family steamed away, he experienced the horrors of a terrible nightmare.

Mechanically he shook his white handkerchief, saw his family carried far out to sea as if to another world, and he longed for some yawning earthquake to engulf him. He stood transfixed to the dock; the perspiration of excitement, now checked, was chilling him when Gertrude caught his arm and said, "Father, what is the matter?"

Colonel Harris's strong frame trembled like a ship that had struck a hidden rock, and then he rallied as if from a stupor, and taking Mr.

Searles's arm was helped to a carriage.

He said, "You must pardon me, Mr. Searles, if for a moment I seemed unmanned. It is a terrible ordeal to be thus suddenly separated from my family."

"Yes, Colonel Harris, I had a similar experience recently on the docks in Liverpool when my family bade me adieu, and I came alone to America.

Separation for a time even from those we love is trying."

The heroic in Colonel Harris soon enabled him to plan well for the afternoon. He telegraphed Mr. Wilson of his decision to return, and then said, "We will leave New York at 6 o'clock this evening for Harrisville.

Mr. Searles, we will try to use the afternoon for your pleasure. Driver, please take us to the Windsor Hotel, via the Produce Exchange." The colonel having left the Waldorf did not wish, under the circ.u.mstances, again to enter his name on its register.

The ride down West Street, New York, at midday, is anything but enjoyable, as few thoroughfares are more crowded with every kind of vehicle conveying merchandise from ship to warehouse, and from warehouse to ship and cars. However, the ride impressed Searles with the immensity of the trade of the metropolis. West Street leads to Battery Park, the Produce, and Stock Exchanges, which Colonel Harris desired Mr. Searles and his daughter Gertrude to see in the busy part of the day.

Colonel Harris explained that here in Battery Park terminated the Metropolitan Elevated Railway. A railway in the air with steam-engines and coaches crowded with people interested Mr. Searles greatly.

"In London," he said, "we are hurried about under ground, in foul air, and darkness often."

"Here at Battery Park, Mr. Searles, November 25, 1783, Sir Guy Carleton's British army embarked. Our New Yorkers still celebrate the date as Evacuation Day. Near by at an earlier date Hendrick Christianson, agent of a Dutch fur trading company, built four small houses and a redoubt, the foundation of America's metropolis. In 1626 Peter Minuit, first governor of the New Netherlands, bought for twenty-six dollars all Manhattan Island."

Mr. Searles visited the tall Washington Building which occupies the ground where formerly stood the headquarters of Lords Cornwallis and Howe. He told Gertrude that he had read that, in July, 1776, the people came in vast crowds to Battery Park to celebrate the Declaration of Independence, and that they knocked over the equestrian statue of George III., which was melted into bullets to be used against the British.

"Yes," replied Colonel Harris, "in early days, Americans doubtless lacked appreciation of art, but we always gave our cousins across-sea a warm reception."

"Colonel Harris," said Mr. Searles, "it has always puzzled me to understand why you should have built near Boston the Bunker Hill Monument."

"Mr. Searles, because we Americans whipped the British."

"Oh no, Colonel, that fight was a British victory."

"Father," said Gertrude, "Mr. Searles is right; the British troops, under General Gage, drove the American forces off both Breed's Hill and Bunker Hill. The obelisk of Quincy granite was erected at Charlestown, I think, to commemorate the stout resistance which the raw provincial militia made against regular British soldiers, confirming the Americans in the belief that their liberty could be won."

Mr. Searles thanked Miss Harris for her timely aid and added that a patriot is a rebel who succeeds, and a rebel is a patriot who fails. He observed also the witty sign over the entrance of a dealer in American flags, "Colors warranted not to run."

The party drove to the Produce Exchange, one of the most impressive buildings in New York. It is of rich Italian Renaissance architecture.

Beneath the projecting galley-prows in the main hall, the fierce bargaining of excited members reminded Mr. Searles of a pitched battle without cavalry or artillery.

Gertrude was anxious to climb the richly decorated campanile that rises two hundred and twenty-five feet, which commands an unrivalled bird's-eye view of lower New York, the bay, Brooklyn, Long Island, and the mountains of New Jersey. All hoped to catch a glimpse of the "Majestic," but she was down the Narrows and out of sight.

Mr. Searles desired to see Trinity Church, so he was driven up Broadway to the head of Wall Street. Its spire is graceful and two hundred and eighty-four feet high. The land on which it stands was granted in 1697 by the English government. There were also other magnificent endowments.

Trinity Parish, or Corporation, is the richest single church organization in the United States, enjoying revenues of over five hundred thousand dollars a year. In Revolutionary times the royalist clergy persisted in reading prayers for the king of England till their voices were drowned by the drum and fife of patriots marching up the center aisle.

It was now past two o'clock and the Harris party was driven to the Hotel Windsor for lunch. Promptly at six o'clock the conductor of the fast Western Express shouted, "All aboard," and Colonel Harris, Gertrude, and Mr. Searles in their own private car, left busy New York for Harrisville.

The Express creeps slowly along the steel way, under cross-streets, through arched tunnels, and over the Harlem River till the Hudson is reached, and then this world-famed river is followed 142 miles to Albany, the capital of the Empire State. This tide-water ride on the American Rhine is unsurpa.s.sed. The Express is whirled through tunnels, over bridges, past the magnificent summer houses of the magnates of the metropolis that adorn the high bluffs, past wooded hill and winding dale, grand mountains, and sparkling rivulets. Every object teems with historic memories. This ride, in June, is surpa.s.sed only when the forests are in a blaze of autumnal splendor.

For twenty miles in sight are the battlemented cliffs of the Palisades.

Mr. Searles was familiar with the facile pen of Washington Irving, and from the car caught sight of "Sunny Side" covered with nourishing vines, grown from slips, which Irving secured from Sir Walter Scott at Abbottsford.

Pa.s.sing Tarrytown Colonel Harris said, "Here Major Andre was captured, and the treachery of Benedict Arnold exposed, otherwise, we might to-day have been paying tribute to the crown of Great Britain."

"Yes," replied Mr. Searles, "George Washington, patriot, hung Major Andre, the spy. You made Washington president, and we gave Andre a monument in Westminster Abbey."