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An Incident in the Life of Lord Edward Fitzgerald.

We can ascertain no doubt that anything in connection with the patriotic nobleman, whose memory is regarded by Irishmen with the deepest affection and esteem, as one of Erin’s most devoted sons, would be heartily welcome to our readers; and presuming, also, that the fact of his having been created a Chief of a North American Indian tribe is not generally known, we cull the following from the "Anecdotes of Enterprise and Adventure," by Ralph and Chandos Temple:—

"Lord Edward Fitzgerald, whose end constitutes one of the most tragic episodes of the Irish rebellion of 1798, conceived, when a young man, a romantic passion for the wild and rough life of the far settlements of America, and having started for Canada, spent a considerable time in those parts. Sometimes he extended his wanderings far beyond the limits of civilized life, and, sojourned for a while with the wild tribes of Indians who treated him with kindness. Pictures of these experiences are drawn by him in his letters, chiefly written to his mother, for whom he always cherished a remarkable affection. Much of his time was spent in rowing his canoe up the rivers into parts of the country which were then unexplored. Having induced several friends to join him, he started on a trial journey, in order to inure himself to the hardships of the Canadian winter, from New Brunswick to Quebec, a distance of 175 miles. It was in the coldest season, with the snow lying deep upon the ground, and their way lay through the woods, and by a route altogether new, or which had never been traversed by any but the Indians. Perilous as such a journey might appear, Fitzgerald states that life in the Canadian woods in the rigorous winter of the climate, was far from being without its charms. The party consisted of five persons, including Lord Edward himself, a friend and brother military officer, a servant named Tony, and two woodsmen. Their baggage was trifling, and consisted chiefly of blankets and provisions, which they hung on canvas, slung on poles. The party kept a reckoning, steering by compass as at sea. At night they found themselves in some degree sheltered from the winds by the leafless woods; and by clearing away the snow, banking it up around, and making a fire in the middle of the space, they found themselves even warmer than in the Canadian houses that rigorous season. ’Three of the coldest nights yet,’ says the enthusiastic young nobleman. I slept in the woods on a bed of spruce fir, with only one blanket, and was just as comfortable as in a room!’ All the rivers had long been completely frozen, and undistinguishable in the snow (which lay four feet deep upon the ground) from the land. The party were always on foot two hours before day, to load, and get ready to march. At three or four in the afternoon they halted; and were then occupied till night in shovelling out the snow, cutting wood, and getting ready for the bivouac. Immediately after supper they were generally asleep, and it was the rule that any one waking in the night should put wood on the fire, eat something—for much food was found essential to maintain warmth—and then sleep again. By day their journey was enlivened by hunting the moose, which they followed in their snow shoes, till the animal, impeded by the frozen snow, turned upon his pursuers, and was thus quickly despatched.

"In this way they passed, in the worst season of the Canadian year, through a wide tract of country which the colonists had always considered impassable. In spite of their compass they diverged considerably from their direct path, and were thirty days on their journey, twenty-six of which were passed in the woods. During this time they saw no human beings but those of their own party; but after making the bank of the river, they fell in with some Indians, who travelled with them to Quebec. The Indians provided the travellers with food during the time they were with them, and otherwise treated them kindly, saying, ’We are all one brother; all one Indian.’ Lord Edward gallantly burdened himself with the pack of one of the squaws, which was so heavy that he could hardly struggle onward with it in the deep snow. ’When we arrived,’ says Fitzgerald in his letter to his mother, ’you may guess what figures we were. We had not shaved or washed during the journey, and our blankets, coats, and trousers were all worn out and pieced. We went to two or three houses, but they would not let us in. There was one old lady exactly like the hostess in "Gil Bias," who told us