A VISIT TO SABLE ISLAND 203 



for bare existence and for skins wherewith to defend their bodies 

 against the incessant fury of the terrible gales for which the island 

 has been ever noted. 



A free pardon and fifty golden crowns apiece attested the 

 depth of royal interest. Strange to say, these galley-slaves of 

 France returned once again to the scene of their exile, and after- 

 wards accumulated a quantity of valuable furs. 



One of the most notable wrecks of Sable Island was that of 

 the Government transport the Francis in 1799 on her voyage out to 

 Halifax conveying the equipage of His Royal Highness the Duke of 

 Kent, father of the late Queen Victoria, at that time in command of 

 the forces in British North America. The horses, plate, library, 

 collection of maps, furniture, and outfit of the Duke, valued at 

 eleven thousand pounds, were all lost, and every soul on board, to 

 the number of two hundred, perished. About that time piratical 

 vagabonds used to frequent the island ; and it is generally supposed 

 that some of the poor people of that unfortunate ship readied the 

 shore in safety, but were murdered by the wreckers for their 

 property. Among those lost were the surgeon of the Prince's own 

 regiment, together with his wife and children, His Royal Highness' 

 coachman and gardener, and several military officers. 



The Prince sent down Captain Torrens of the i^th Regiment, 

 in the brig Hariot of Newcastle, to inquire after the fate of the 

 hapless ship. She too was driven by the gales upon the sand-flats, 

 and few of her crew were rescued before she went to pieces. 



The record of wreckage is too long to be recounted here ; but 

 many will remember the loss of the Moravia, three years since, 

 bound for Antwerp from Boston, the last important disaster of 

 the tragic series. 



To the visitor at Sable Island, the island first appears as half 

 a dozen low hummocks on the distant horizon, scarcely to be dis- 

 tinguished from dark masses of fog, which even in fine weather near 

 the edge of the Gulf Stream dodge about like grim spectres. As 

 he draws nearer he makes out the sloping sides of the sand-dunes, 

 and he sees the long line of breakers dashing over the submerged 

 sand-bars for many a mile seaward. He can make out the bright- 

 red English ensign floating from the tall flaptaff of the lookout, 

 called the ' Crow's Nest ', erected upon the highest hill midway on 

 the island. At a respectful distance, be the day ever so fine, the 

 anchor is let go, while a well-manned surf-boat is seen approaching 

 rapidly to the side of the packet ship. Eager the men are for new 

 of the outside world, for it may be that many months have clap- 

 since the last visit, and no cable can exist amid the incessant fretting 

 of the terrific breakers which widely margin the shore. News is 



