The Bushman — Life in a New Country

by Edward Wilson Landor

MICHAEL BLAKE, THE IRISH SETTLER.*

[footnote] *A dry and humorous old man, who I cannot help suspecting coins a good many of his anecdotes, gave me this account of one of the early settlers, just as I record it. The fact of Blake's coming to this colony, solely because he had heard there was an estate in it called Skibbereen, (after the place of his nativity,) struck me as being something truly Irish and original. The man's whole history is given almost in the words of my informant, who professed to have received it pure from the fountain-head.

Michael Blake was a native of Skibbereen, a well-known barony in the "ould country." His parents lived in a hut, "quite handy" to the road, in the midst of a bit of turf-ground where they managed to rear their annual crops of potatoes and their sprouts of children with as little trouble to themselves as possible. Michael, as he said himself, was the youngest of four, but there were five younger than he. As soon as he could walk, his mother clothed him in an old coat of his father's, the tails of which swept the ground far behind him, as he trotted over the cabin-floor with a stick in his hand to wallop his favourite companion, the long-legged and long-snouted sow, as she lay dreaming in the door-way. His father was an upright man, and dealt equal justice among his children, whom he 'lathered' daily with the strictest impartiality. This was all the education they had any reason to expect, as the priest was always in a hurry when he called at their door, and had not time to dismount from his pony, from whose back he bestowed his blessing upon the tattered crowd of children as they pressed around, and gazed upon his Reverence with their wild grey eyes and open mouths. And their parents could not be expected to give any other education than they had themselves received.

Michael grew up, therefore, as might be expected, a hungry, dirty-faced, unbreeched, long-coated urchin. Although his parents had done no more for him than to usher him into a life of mud and misery, Nature had been more compassionate. She had bestowed upon him a restless imagination, apparently for the purpose of removing him from this scene of trouble as quickly as possible. It led him, at an early age, to explore the passes of a neighbouring bog, where he fell into a deep hole filled with water, and was just on the point of escaping from the cares of the world, when his eldest brother unfortunately came by, and fished him out. Their father seized the opportunity, and lathered them both.

Michael next travelled in a northerly direction, and reached the high-road with another brother, who was sent out to beg. Here they both sat upon a stone and cried for their breakfast, until a brilliant idea occurred to Michael, which dried his tears. He made a dirt-pie, and presented it to his brother; and they both passed their time very pleasantly, until an English carriage appeared coming along the road. Little Pat ran forward, begging and praying their honours to give him a halfpenny for the love of the Virgin, as he had been carefully instructed to do by his dear mother, whilst his father took measures to impress the lesson upon his mind and person. Michael, on his part, made a vigorous effort to cross over to the other side, crying lustily, "Please Sir, a halfpenny!" but his mother, in order to give him a good appearance in front, had buttoned the old coat wrong side before, and poor Mike, in his haste and hurry, happening to put one of his little feet into the remains of a pocket, unhappily tripped himself up, and rolled before the horses' feet. The post-boy cleverly turned them aside as quickly as possible, but nothing could prevent the hind-wheel of the carriage from grazing one of Michael's shins, and making him squall out in the most dreadful manner.

A young lady and gentleman descended from the carriage, and showed the greatest compassion for the sufferer, whom they caused to be carried by a servant to his father's hovel, whither they accompanied him, and soon relieved the anxieties of his parents by a present of five golden guineas.

Some years elapsed, and things went on in the old way with the Blake family. Mike had sprouted out into a fine gossoon of a boy, and exercised his errant disposition by running after the gentlemen when they went out shooting, and helping the keepers to carry the game. One day, a gentleman who was shooting in the neighbourhood called at his father's cabin, and asked for the little boy whom he had run over in his carriage some seven years before. Mr. Blake, senior, after blessing his honour for his goodness, and wishing him long life and every earthly happiness called to the young spalpeen to get out of that; and why was he not for coming when the gentleman was spaking to him? Mr. Blake hinted to his visitors that he should correct the manners of the youth at an early opportunity, and in the meantime Mike slyly approached with a gun that he was carrying for the keeper in his hands, and received the compliments of the gentleman on his good looks.

The end of it was that the gentleman, who was an officer, took Mike into his service; and in process of time, when he joined his regiment, Michael became his constant attendant. Dying, however, unexpectedly, as most people do, the worthy Mr. Blake, junior, was left to his own resources; and finding nothing better to do, he accepted a shilling from a friendly serjeant, and entered Her Majesty's service as a full private.

In process of time he married a wife—a real jewel, from that "gem of the sea" so dear to poor old England—and accompanied his regiment to Van Dieman's Land, en route to India. He was well known and liked by the officers, having a peculiar talent for blarney; and nothing pleased him so much as a little conversation with a superior.

The regiment remained seven years in Van Dieman's Land, and then passed on to its destination, leaving a number of men, who had received their discharge, to become settlers in the colony. Among these was Mr. Michael Blake, who soon established himself on a block of land, and became a prosperous colonist. But times grew bad, ere he could retire with a fortune. His wife formed undesirable acquaintances, and Michael endeavoured to reclaim her by wholesome correction; but, unhappily, he bestowed so much attention upon her amendment that he entirely neglected himself, and before he was aware that he was falling into error, had become an habitual drunkard.