In the midst of this impending danger, on the 7th October, a fire broke out in the woods surrounding “The Hermitage,” the residence of the Hon. Thomas Baillie, on the Government House road.  Here the forethought of Sir Howard was exhibited with unequalled prudence, having every available engine and means of succor close at hand.  By great exertions the house was saved.  Danger still lurked in the woods.  Within an hour an alarm was given in the city.  Sir Howard was the first on the spot, having ridden furiously his spirited and favorite steed.  Engines were again in quick action, while the military were only a short distance behind, being ordered up at the double.

The scene was terrific.  High winds blew the fire from one building to the next, until the third part of the city was a mountain of flame—­cracking, roaring, tremendous in its fury.  Water was kept up in constant streams, having but little effect.  Many sat down and cried in their frantic emotion.  Hundreds of families without home, food, or clothing.

In the midst of this sickening sight was one whose very presence lifted a weight from the hearts of the sad and homeless.  Sir Howard never once deserted his post—­working, encouraging, and aiding.  By his advice the fire was stayed—­two-thirds of the town still remaining.  The stifling air and glowing heavens made the hearts of many grow sick and faint.

Perhaps it would be wiser to end the tale of misery here, but as the chapter would seem incomplete, it may be necessary to make slight allusion to a wilder and more terrible fire.

The consummation of terror, madness, and dismay, depicted in its most awful form, would fail to do justice to this sickening calamity—­the Miramichi fire.

The forests, for hundreds of miles in every direction, were one solid mass of living fire, roaring louder than thunder; in its fury shaking the bowels of the earth and leaping up to the heavens which seemed, also, to be enveloped in flames.  Nothing more awful will be witnessed until the judgment day.  Many were of opinion that the time was at hand when “the heavens and earth shall melt away.”  Hundreds lost their lives, while property was destroyed to an immense amount.

An ordinary mind would have sunk under the weight of grievances that pressed on all sides; but Sir Howard Douglas rose above the situation.  With Spartan firmness and unswerving courage he set about raising means for the distressed by subscription, both at home and abroad, in money, food, and clothing.  Letters were sent to all parts of America, England, and Ireland.  Not thus content, Sir Howard went himself to visit burnt districts where man or beast could scarcely penetrate, climbing over miles of fallen brushwood.  Those poor creatures tried to show their gratitude by words, but were unable.  Their tears were a more gracious tribute than jewels—­being the grateful offering of a stricken community.  Their benefactor had conveyed provision for their sustenance, and clothing for their wives and families.  Many were the fervent prayers offered for their noble-hearted and humane ruler, and none more gratefully acknowledged these than he.