| Title: | E. Cochrane, Canada to K. Finlay, Co Down |
|---|---|
| ID | 652 |
| Collection | Irish Emigration Database |
| File | Cochrane, Ernest/17 |
| Year | 1896 |
| Sender | Cochrane, Ernest |
| Sender Gender | male |
| Sender Occupation | provost sergeant |
| Sender Religion | unknown |
| Origin | Regina, Canada |
| Destination | Co. Down, N.Ireland |
| Recipient | Finlay, Kate |
| Recipient Gender | female |
| Relationship | uncle-niece? |
| Source | T 3504/1/9: Copied by Courtesy of Mr. A. D. Finlay |
| Archive | Public Record Office, Northern Ireland |
| Doc. No. | 9103144 |
| Date | 17/05/1896 |
| Partial Date | |
| Doc. Type | EMG |
| Log | Action By Date Document added by S.K., 21:01:1994. |
| Word Count | 1575 |
| Genre | |
| Note | |
| Transcript | To: Katie [Finlay?], [Wellesdon, Holywood, County Down], [Ireland?]. From: Ernest Cochrane, North West Mounted Police, Regina, [North West Territories?], [Canada?]. May 17th 1896 My dear Katie It was as good as a rise of pay to get your affectionate letter this morning. Indeed I was delighted, as few letters come my way. I did not think I was forgotten, & I did not feel neglected at not hearing from you for so long. I know our friend- ship, after all these years, is of a deeper nature than to be imperilled, by the non- answering of a letter. And at my age, and after my checkered career, I can truthfully say I value your friendship & kindliness of nature, which makes you write to one, who but for little acts of the kind, would be a lonely man. I am sorry that sickness claimed so many of your family, but its a blessing no serious consequences followed. Some bands of Halfbreeds round here have been attacked with influenza, so bad was it that detatchments of our men were stationed on the reserves, to keep the sick ones quarantined. Its not very long since we got rid of our winter: and we are now in the enjoyment [?] [sic] of the mud season. I can give you no idea of it the living in the old country cant realize what Prairie mud is. No cement sticks like it, you cant brush it off - nothing but water will have any effect. Fortunately it only lasts a few weeks. This is a dreary looking spot, the nearest trees, & they only a few feet high, are 20 #PAGE 2 miles away & our landscape for some months to come will be, the sky, a blazing sun, the prairie getting browner every day. I am still in my old billet - looking after the erring ones, we have a civil jail here, & and take in cattle thieves, tramps, rebellious Indians & the general outcasts of a newly settled country. Its monotonous to be always taking care of evil doers. I think it makes one hardened & callous & it certainly turns one into what the Americans call a "crank" They tell me I have developed into a first class one. And I believe them! My hours are long, I go on duty at 5.30 a.m. & "lock up" is after 8 at night. Thank goodness I am strong & able to keep on the move all day. I like the open air, but its ruinous to ones complexion. Wind and fresh sun have given me the colour of antique mahogany this with very grey hair & a stern look I have somehow got, leaves me a not very preposessing old figure head. And I dont think you would know me - not that I mean to think I was ever taken for a handsome man!! About 200 prisoners pass through the guard room in the year, so you can imagine I have not many idle moments. I feel no ill effects from the little accidents, as to action etc we dont get much of that till they think we are leaving them. I had to keep at duty, with permission to have my eye in a sling at one time, & my hand in the other! The hand I got from a prisoner, & the eye I painted myself, by the breaking of a bet. Some of our own men get into trouble & get imprisonment, but I am glad to say the occasions are few. Do you know I often & often think of the old times & it does me good. You were three good girls and its a relief, a comfort & a help to me away out here to think of you. God bless you Katie is all I can say. There is no praise I would not give to #PAGE 3 you & the two dear ones in Heaven. I knew you all once, & I have no fear that I will ever get mean or dishonourable. The only friends I ever made here are the Stevensons - they live about 40 miles from here & I see them a couple of times a year. I first met them at Broadview when I was stationed on The Indian Reserve Of Crooked Lakes He was the Railway Agent & had his wife & little girls Marion & Nora. She asked me to the house & a friendship sprung up & has existed to my good ever since. She is a splendid little woman & has surmounted many difficulties, by bringing up her girls with very little money to help, to be nice & presentable. They were in short frocks & I used to bring them for a long drive every saturday. I taught them to handle horses & we had such fun Marion has now a good situation as teacher in a school, & Nora is engaged to be married! To my horror, when I was seeing them 3 months ago, I was introduced to her young man! I had always looked upon them as children & made no allowance for growing up. I am glad Lilie is married: but I would be far gladder if I knew you were settled in a nice house of your own. I often think of it & I just put it down to your being too hard to please. That you have a nice home goes without saying: but a woman was born for a house of her own & I have not lost heart yet that one of these days I will here [hear?] a confession that you have given in. Well I wish I knew the man & I would praise you to such an extent, he would think the world of you. God but that I would feel bound to tell him, he need not expect to get much of his own way!! As for myself, I'm out of it. I have seen but few girls out here & those few did not strike my fancy. I suppose we are at times are dreamers of dreams. #PAGE 4 But I am no longer young - Barrack life has become a second nature, my ideas & habits fixed & of all [men?] I dont think I am of a loveable nature. I will never see the old country again. It often strikes me where & in what way I will end my days. I am saving what I can out of my pay for the time when I wont be fit for work In 9 years more I will get a small pension, but if I get hurt in the mean time, I would be turned a drift [adrift?] without any compensation. If I could afford it I would take a trip to Ireland & see the old places: but as I see it will take a lot of saving & self denial to enable me to have a little something for old age - I have given up all thought of seeing the old place again You may think this gloomy writing - & it certainly is not very entertaining for you, but I am taking the privelege [privilege?] of an old friend. I dont mind in the least looking to the future. With [me?] hopes & aspirations have settled down to the ordinary cares of life. I could not if I would, be a burden to anyone in this country. If I can stay on here till failing energies make them discharge me & I have what will give me house & food till God calls me, I will be very well content. For nearly 11 years now I have a hard & somewhat risky life out here: and its great training to a man, to make him face the realities of life. I have no gloomy thoughts of the future, principally I think because I am alone. And I am not sentimental enough to care if I have to end my days among strangers. One can earn respect anywhere, in any walk of life I shall be very glad to see Mr. Brown if he comes this way & if in my power I will make his trip an agreeable one An introduction from you is quite enough to make me put my best foot first. Now Katie dear I wish I could #PAGE 5 tell you what a treat your letter was to me, I just feel inclined to hug the writer - theres a confession! but I am a long way off & you need not be frightened I hope the voyage will do your brother good. Indeed I have often thought of writing to John. But I have got to be a very poor correspondent & I dont like writing letters: but I think I will drop him a line. I am real glad you are having such a good time visiting. You always were a bright wee body & long may you have a good time Oh I would like to see you. I often wish for it - just a good look & back here again. Give my kind regards to your father and mother. May they long be spared to you & the rest. And now Katie dear goodbye. I send you & Lilie my love & my earnest wishes for health & happiness will always follow you Ever Your affectionate friend Ernest Cochrane If he does turn up dont be a bit ashamed of writing. I am prepared for a confession any of these days |
