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Patagonia Bookshelf

Patagonian pioneer: Henry Leonard Reynard (1845-1919)
His Life and Times

A   L I F E   OF   H E N R Y  L.  R E Y N A R D.

PART  THREE    [compiled c1920]





Chapter One

At the request of his eldest daughter, I am writing these memoirs of my dear old friend Henry L. Reynard, from the date of our first acquaintance and meeting, which was, as far as I can remember, about the beginning of February 1872.

The first portion of our acquaintance, which commenced about 47 years ago, and ripened into a friendship which lasted until his death, is vividly impressed on my mind, and I think I can say, is correct in every detail, but this only lasted about two years, as, recognising my utter lack of the qualities necessary for a successful business man, I retired utterly from all commercial affairs and became the only thing I was fit for - a hunter and explorer of many (at that date) unknown portions of an adopted country of the now prosperous and prospering "Patagonia".

I myself arrived at Punta Arenas on the 12th of December 1870 [actually 1872], accompanied by three friends, Messrs Leesmith, Dunsmure and Potts - to the first of these gentlemen, Mr Leesmith, I owe my acquaintance and long friendship with Mr Reynard. Mr Leesmith, in common with myself, always believed that Patagonia, inclement, wild and barren as it may appear to outsiders, had a great future before it, and I think the result has proved that we were not wrong in our surmises.

I remember that our entry into the Colony was not by any means a dignified one - we arrived at daylight, and anchored about a mile from the shore (P. S. N. Co's Lusitania) - several small boats came off, into one of which we crammed ourselves and


our belongings. There was at that time no mole or jetty of any description, and a heavy surf was rolling on the beach. The consequence was that we found the heavily laden boat overturned and ourselves and our numerous belongings washed high and dry on the beach. We were not by any means dry, neither were our goods and chattels, but somehow we managed to collect ourselves and most of our goods into a wet mass in front of the only visible residence - a long low one-storied house which belonged to the late Captain Luis Piedra Buena [Piedrabuena], perhaps the most well-known and experienced navigator of the Straits of Magellan - of whom more soon.

The Governor of the Colony - Don Oscar Viel, who was also agent and consignee to the P. S. N. Co's steamers, found us in this plight, and with the great courtesy and kindness which always characterized his proceedings during several years of our acquaintance, called in a lot of convicts and had us conveyed to a couple of rooms belonging to one of the few wooden houses which then practically surrounded the now gorgeous Plaza, but then was a square of boggy green grass interspersed with old stumps of roble trees. There was also a large two-storied wooden building in the middle of the Plaza, which had I believe, been originally intended for the Government House, Cuartel [Barracks] and officers, but as the Plaza became a lake in Spring, a bog in summer, and a skating rink in winter, the Governor gave up the attempt to reside there, in despair, and removed the Government offices to the extreme E. end of the town, close to the Río de las minas, where, I believe, after various vicissitudes, it or its more imposing successor still stands.


At that time I cannot imagine a more desolate savage looking place. A few scattered wooden houses roofed with shingle and formed of ill-fitting hand-sawn boards, a couple of stores (one belonging to a native called Vital Diaz, and the other to a Russian named Guillielmus Bloom) and the inevitable billiard table and bowling alley - a few scattered ranches in the sparse clearings in the forest which reached to within a hundred yards of the magnificent Plaza. However, we did not expect to find luxuries and comfort when we started as the first English pioneers in Patagonia, and in fact were much surprised at all the luxuries and comforts this little settlement contained, when we came to know our way about and got acquainted with the so-called Ricos (rich men) of the Colony.

For example - on the day after our arrival I had occasion to visit the village blacksmith, in order to get repaired some trifling damage one of my rifles had sustained in our rough and tumble on the beach. When the job was done, I asked him what I had to pay. "Oh, nada, vamos a tomar la copa donde Bloom"; [Oh, nothing, let's have a glass at Bloom's place] we promptly repaired there, and I asked what he would have. "Champagne por supuesto" [Champagne, of course] he said - "I drink nothing else". Mr Bloom promptly produced a bottle, for which I had to pay a sovereign, so the job was not quite so cheap as I anticipated. There appeared to be a quantity of champagne in the Colony, obtained from a wreck on Staten Land, and you had to be very careful when you asked a man to have a drink, or you would most assuredly be let in for five gold Dollars (£1). The only other liquors obtainable were the wachakai ["guachacay" or "huachucho", a low-quality "aguardiente" (distilled spirit)] and Chilean wine, 50 cents


a bottle, the former rank poison, the latter better than nothing. There was no beef or mutton in the Colony, either then or 'till some time afterwards, but the campañistas brought in large quantities of deer [huemul], guanaco and ostrich [rhea] meat, and you could kill as many geese, ducks and snipe as you wanted in the marshes and lagoons on the flats to the East of the Colony. So we were in clover, and had not to rough it at all, as we had anticipated.

Well, to cut this preface short, after a lot of bother and haggling, we purchased a dozen horses (at most extortionate prices) and hired an Indian guide, and after making a most horrible muddle in packing our cargoes, which generally tumbled off faster than we could put them on, we made a start on our exploring tour, and after many vicissitudes, arrived late in the evening at Chabunco where we camped and remained a day to pick up things we had lost on the road, and generally repair damages. After that we got as far as Cape Negro, arriving there I remember on Christmas Eve - passed Christmas Day camped in the woods and then proceeded by easy stages E. as far as Coy Inlet; then retraced our route and returned to the Colony, after two months absence.

Messrs. Dunsmure and Potts took the first steamer back to Buenos Aires; Mr Leesmith and myself remained behind, as we had both formed a very high opinion of S. Patagonia and its resources. Mr Leesmith remained two months longer, and we made several expeditions to various parts of the country together - to Port Famine, Otway and Skyring Waters, Los Dos Morros, etc, and the more we saw of the country the more we liked it, and had


the more faith in the resources.

Mr Leesmith then left me, and I much regret that I never saw him again, altho' he paid the Colony a visit some years afterwards and did his best to find me, but without success, as I had then renounced civilization and was living far away N. in the recesses of the Andes beyond Lake Santa Cruz.

On his return to Buenos Aires he met his friend Henry L. Reynard, and held out to him such promises of success in the new country, that Mr Reynard decided to come there, and try his fortune there - he came some time in January 1872, and from that time commenced our acquaintance and subsequent friendship.

I shall now endeavour to set down as far as I can recall them, all the circumstances connected with my old friend, our first meeting, what he did afterwards, etc, etc, and so on, following up his successful career step by step 'till he became one of the most prosperous and most popular men in the whole Colony.


Chapter Two

I remember my first meeting with my old friend as well as if it were yesterday. It was, I think, about the end of 1872. I had returned from an unusually bad trip after seals, so bad that after about six weeks being cramped up in my little cutter without a fire (fire or the smell of fire always drives the seals away if they are hauling up or about to haul up on the beach - once up and breeding started you can do what you like, so long as you keep quiet). We had not killed a single


seal, only one Hair Lion, and about a dozen otter. As we came ashore I saw a tall slight figure standing with my then partner (the late Dr Forrest of Charlestown, U.S. [Charleston, South Carolina]), and our old acquaintance Dunsmure was also there. Reynard, for he it was, stepped forward and said "my name is Reynard, and I bring you an introduction from our mutual friend Leesmith". I had heard much of Mr Reynard from Leesmith and others, and was very glad to see him, as in those days there were only three or four Englishmen and a couple of Americans in the Colony, and every new arrival was a Godsend, especially one who knew S. America and spoke Spanish very well. I don't think we took a great fancy to one another at first; we did not seem to have much in common. I was the proud owner of a grog-shop and billiard room, and sampled my own goods pretty freely. I believe I was the most useless young ass in creation at that time, and I fear that time has not improved me.

I was, however, fond of hard work (altho' I always made a mess of any work I undertook) and I was, as I am now, devoted to all kinds of sport and out-door life in general. This was a bond between us - I did not know much about horses, but was supposed to be a crack shot, and altho' my old friend could not shoot a hang (except with a revolver) he was fond of any kind of sport, although hunting and racing were his specialities. He knew he could not shoot, and man as he was, did not pretend to.

I remember he told me a very good yarn about a day's shooting he once had in Yorkshire. There were several men out,


mostly good shots, but that day Reynard could hit hardly anything, and another man of the party could hit nothing at all. Reynard said to this man "well, I always thought I was the worst gun shot in England, but upon my word: I believe you best me." The other man, like many vile shots, rather prided himself on his shooting, so he stared at Reynard and said " I beg your pardon; do you mean to insult me?" Reynard said "not a bit of it, but I thought you might like a little sympathy from a brother in ill luck". This was what any gentleman would have said, but this fellow was mortally offended, and I think Reynard said that they were never on very good terms afterwards.

I keep diverging from the main object of this memoir or whatever you like to call it by - the progress of events after Reynard's arrival, but memory flows with sluggish tide when one is old, and it takes a lot of thinking before one can follow the sequence of events, when half a century or more has elapsed.

Of course Reynard stopped in my house, as we kept a sort of boarding house, with grub and beds at $1.50 per head (drinks not included). He was very methodical in his habits and altho' the weather was very cold, he used to run down to the beach (about 25 yards from the house) and have a swim in his light blue pyjamas, much to the admiration of all the male and female residents in the little township, who had not a great liking for water or washing in any shape, let alone the icy cold water of the straits. After a dip he would come up to the house, dress, and hang the lovely pyjamas out to dry, and then start for a walk along the beach, taking with him an old sack which


he generally brought back half full of clams, which were very abundant at that time in the sand flats at the mouth of the Río de las Minas, and made a welcome addition to our somewhat monotonous diet, of charqui, generally, unless one of us went into the woods and got a deer or some ducks - there was no mutton, and bullocks or lions [pumas] were killed very irregularly; when one was killed the meat disappeared like a flash of lightning.

I then organised weekly expeditions to Laguna Blanca to bring in regular supplies of guanaco meat, which sold very well. I had a large transparent canteen hung up over the door of the store, with "Greenwood & Co. General Dealers and Commission Agents" painted on it in huge letters. I remember Reynard laughed at that, and as there were three or four whole guanacos generally hanging up inside, he said "if I were you I should drop the store and commission agents and stick "Greenwood & Co., Butchers and Hunters", on it." When he came he brought a few goods with him - preserved fruits, jam, etc. which I purchased from him, and could not pay for a long time, but eventually, I am glad to say, squared the a/c by giving him a block of land I had close to my then residence. It had a log shanty on it, which I had christened "Kenilworth Castle", because I was building it at the time the "Kenilworth" came to grief, and a lot of the men were ashore [alert - Punta Arenas was frequently a place of refuge for the survivors of ships lost in the south Pacific, or on the West coast of Tierra del Fuego. A sailing ship named "Kenilworth Castle" was indeed lost at sea in 1870, but without trace of survivors. It is probable that the author is referring here to the crew of the frigate "SV Ocean Empress", which sank near Noir Island on November 22nd, 1873. They are known to have reached Punta Arenas in the lifeboats, and reportedly lodged at Greenwood's establishment (see "How I became a Governor", Ralph Williams, 1913, p.53.)] and helped me to get the huge logs into position after dragging them down from the woods above the cemetery. I remember Reynard said it would take a cannon ball to knock it to pieces, and that there was more wood in it than in any other house in the Colony. This was a fact, and it was certainly the


warmest house in the colony during the severe winter that followed, and all the Englishmen in the Colony used to assemble there and smoke and yarn in the long winter evenings. I do not know what Reynard did with it when I let him have the land, but it was still standing for some years afterwards, and was considered something of a curiosity, being the only log house in the Colony. It may be there now for ought I know. Unless it was pulled down the logs would hold good for many years. Some smaller ones I built in the Cordillera were still standing when I last visited the slopes of the Andes, and I daresay some are still extant.

I think Reynard remained about two months on this his first visit to Sandy Point, and then he and Dunsmure left for the Argentine. Reynard had left his land belongings (in Cañada de Gómez, I think) in charge of some friend or acquaintance - on his arrival he found his so-called friend (I forget his name) had taken advantage of his absence to sell and embezzle all he could lay hands on, stating as an excuse, that Reynard owed him a lot of money - this was of course false, but Reynard did not make much fuss about it, only he sent him a letter saying that when he met him again he would pay him all he owed with good interest. If they ever met I do not doubt he kept his word, but he never mentioned the matter to me again.

Before he left after his first visit, I could see he was fully determined to return and settle in Patagonia - from the first he fully believed in the prospects and ultimate success of the country, as I did, and events proved at least in his case, that he was not mistaken.


This is merely a sketch of our first meeting and acquaintances, and in the next chapter I shall begin from the period (about nine months later I think) when he returned and regularly settled down to work in the Straits of Magellan. I can only tell about the first two or three years of his return as after that I gave up life in the Colony and disappeared into the wilds for many years, only receiving occasional news, as I rarely met or mixed with anyone whatever.

Chapter Three

Mr Reynard's return and final settlement in the Colony.

I think it was towards the end of the year 1873, that Reynard returned to the Colony and finally settled there. He first occupied my old store (Piedra Buena's [Piedrabuena's] House) but shortly afterwards started a small store in the main and only respectable street, between Ramírez and Vital Diaz stores. This was only a stop-gap, as very soon afterwards he opened the sawmill at Leña Dura, in partnership with Mr Dunsmure, who, as far as I could see, never did any work at all, leaving everything to his partner. They built a small shanty close to the mill, and lived there, Mr Reynard as I said before, doing all the work and his partner knocking about spending the firm's money and giving orders on the firm for numerous small amounts run up by himself for his own sole use and benefit. I always considered that my old friend made a great mistake in associating himself with this man, who, altho' of good family, was certainly not a square man. When he was drowned a year or two later, he left numerous


debts which Mr Reynard paid most scrupulously, although it was not fair or just in any way. When Reynard returned to England some short time afterwards, he visited Dunsmure Senior, and told him that he naturally thought the money he had paid to liquidate his son's debts should be refunded to him - The father repudiated the whole thing, and absolutely refused to pay anything more on his dead son's account. It happened that Dunsmure's younger brother had just returned from the S. African diamond fields, and, being a different sort of man from his brother and anxious to keep up the credit of his family, he saw Reynard privately, and I believe, paid him the amount of his brother's debts, or at any rate a great part of them.

Dunsmure met his death by drowning - he had gone with two or three other men to fish or shoot on Quartermaster Island and the launch they went in was never heard of again.

From this time I think Mr Reynard's fortunes took a turn for the better, and I believe, continued prosperous 'till the day of his death. No man ever deserved success more, nor was any man I ever met more fair and just in all his dealings.

I do not remember the date when Mr Reynard married Madame Roig, the widow of one of the men who was drowned at the same time as Dunsmure, at least I think it was at the same time but I am not quite certain - but when I returned to the Colony after one of my long trips, he was married and very happy and joyful. I met him and Mrs Reynard riding out together, and congratulated them both. I remember my old friend said "come up to the house and we'll put ourselves outside a morning drink,"


which we promptly did. That night we had a kind of jubilee dinner at Doctor Fenton's, to celebrate the marriage, and I actually put on a white starched shirt in honour of the occasion. Reynard laughed at my "clean boiled rag," as he very irreverently called it, and asked how I felt in it. I replied "d_____ uncomfortable". Mr Reynard told me that they intended to give up store-keeping, and start and sheep farm - he had already a few sheep on Elizabeth Island, and had a very decent little farm there for some years.

Of the next few years of Mr Reynard's life I know very little, as I left Sandy Point and remained away for five years and four months, I think, but of course I heard of the establishing of Oazy Harbour Farm, and the births of his various children from time to time. I did not even receive letters except those from home, and had no communication with the Colony. I believe I received only two letters from Mr Reynard and one from Doctor Fenton during the whole of my long absence, neither did I write any. I believe every one thought I had disappeared for good, as I meant to do, had not circumstances altered my resolve. I can truly say however, that those five more or less solitary years were the happiest I ever spent in S. America, and even now I never feel less alone than when quite alone, altho' as old, very old age creeps nearer and nearer to me, I fancy I should not be happy quite alone, had I by any chance to resume the solitary life; and any how, I ought to be and am quite content with what I have, and hope to have to the end of my life, viz, the love and society of my better, very much better half.


I am now going to bring into these memoirs the name of another very dear friend of mine, viz., Doctor Thomas Fenton for many years Colonial doctor in Sandy Point, a most kind, generous and intimate friend of mine for many years. He and Mr Reynard were the only two men I ever really loved in Patagonia. alas: both have gone to their well-earned rest, but the memory of them is and ever will be fresh in my mind.

William H. Greenwood


Wreck Episode

I had quite forgotten this in relating the other episodes of Mr Reynard's life, but it may be interesting to his family.

I had a little cutter when Reynard first arrived in the Colony. He had a great wish to visit Tierra del Fuego, so one day I lent him and Dunsmure the little craft and they started for an exploring tour, to shoot, get seals, or anything else that turned up. They got caught in a gale of wind and the little craft was blown ashore on the rocks, and stuck there with a big hole in her bottom. The boat was fortunately not smashed, so they managed to get ashore with some stores and provisions, peas, beans, biscuits, etc. also two cases of gin which I had sent to trade with the Indians, if they met any.

As there was no earthly chance of attracting the attention of passing vessels or steamers, Reynard and Dunsmure, on a very calm morning about a week after their mishap, sent the


boat over to tell me what had happened, remaining themselves and sending Hansen the Skipper and the two hands Kelly and Johnson, to pull across. They arrived all right, and I immediately borrowed the steam launch belonging to the Coal Co., and started off to pick up Reynard and Dunsmure. We got there all right, and picked them up, with a few valuables, not forgetting the gin and some provisions, ammunition, etc. The cutter we left to her fate.

Hardly had we started when the beastly launch got aground, and we could not move her for some time - at last Reynard jumped overboard and by superhuman efforts managed to shove her afloat. It was bitterly cold and he was half frozen, but we applied gin liberally, and coarse blankets externally to his skin, and soon got him warm again. Then we steamed off for the Colony. We only just got as far as Quartermaster Island, when the confounded engine bust up, and we were stranded in the middle of the Straits, with no sail and only one very small oar, and a tremendous sea on, blowing half a gale which rapidly became a regular hurricane.

We were towing a small hide or canvas boat astern, which rapidly filled and went upside down. This saved all our lives, as it broke the seas which were rolling after us mountains high. The launch kept shipping seas, and was more than half full of water - luckily she had watertight compartments, which kept her afloat, but we never left off baling out with everything we could lay our hands on, or we must have come to grief.


All that night, the next day and the next night, we drifted about from one side to the other, never knowing when the final collapse would come - we were drenched to the skin and half sitting in water, and baling water out incessantly to keep the old launch afloat. Had it not been for a ration of gin and condensed milk every hour or so, we could not have kept alive; the water tanks being both carried away we had no water, and all suffered terribly from thirst.

At last I said to Reynard " I'm d---d if I can stand this any longer - I'm going to jump for it and try to swim ashore next time we are within a hundred yards or so of the shore". He replied " don't be a fool, no man could swim in such a sea - I am going to stick it out; we can't be in a worse plight than we are now." At the same time, seeing that the skipper and mate had donned cork life-belts, he inquired indifferently "you don't happen to have another belt to spare, have you?"

Well, towards evening the vessel steadily drifted out to sea towards Admiralty Sound, and finally went aground on the last point of the entrance, about 20 or 30 yards from the beach. Everyone jumped overboard immediately except myself - I was sitting right astern of the launch, and could not jump but a big sea came and washed me right ashore, and would have washed me back again, had not Reynard and Dunsmure rushed in and pulled me up high and dry by the legs.

When we found we were on dry land again, we all performed a kind of rejoicing War Dance, except old Brown, who had injured his leg in the rough and tumble. We might just as well


have waited, as half an hour later the launch was high and dry on the beach with most of our gear floating about on the bottom, but we were all fearfully thirsty, and could not find a drop of water anywhere near.

Then we built a huge fire - luckily one of us had some matches wrapped in oil-cloth, - and started to condense water with a big ship's kettle and a gin barrel; a long process, but we managed to condense enough to fill a kettle from the bucket and were looking forward to a speedy cup of coffee, when Dunsmure, who was stoking the fire, managed to overturn the kettle and spill every drop, so we had to wait a couple of hours to condense enough to fill it again. Then we had a splendid cup of tea and ate a lot of biscuits and salt pork, and were generally happy. We kept the condenser going, and did not run short of water again.

The next morning Reynard and Dunsmure started along the coast to get to the wreck of my cutter, as we knew they would send out to look for us there when the steam launch did not return. The rest of us followed slowly, helping our injured comrade to travel, and after a long weary tramp, arrived at the wreck almost at the very time the schooner "Anita" hove in sight, having been sent by the Governor to look for us. An hour afterwards we were all safely aboard, and reached the Colony the same evening.

William H. Greenwood


I dedicate this sketch of what S. Patagonia and the Convict Settlement of Punta Arenas were when I arrived there in December 1871, to the memory of my old, dear, and valued friend the late


a  Gentleman,   a  Brave  Man,  a  Loyal  Comrade.


a  Staunch  Friend.

in memory of a thousand acts of kindness received at his hands, and also in memory of many dangers and vicissitudes we passed through together in the days when Punta Arenas was a convict settlement, and the whole territory a wilderness. Had I undertaken this task before (say a quarter of a century ago) I could doubtless have done it more justice, but as it is I have done my best to set down all the facts of our long acquaintance and great friendship, as far as my memory serves me, and without any exaggeration.

W. H. G.



Extracts from letters from Henry L. Reynard to his brother Robert F. Reynard.

Punta Arenas,

25th November, 1888.

My dear Bob,

Nelly, the eldest lass, is going to make a real bully horsewoman, but she will ride astride. Henrietta, a smart little lassie as full of conversation as ever she can be. We have had a very fair lambing, and I only hope the shearing will go off well, and the clip fetch a good price. Wages are very high, as we have to compete with the gold diggers. The calving has been only middling, and the foaling decidedly unfortunate, but then a good many mares always lose their foals - they fight amongst themselves. Last week Marie, Miss McMunn and Francois and the kids went and camped out about eight miles away, by the side of a big blue lake where the country is really very pretty. They enjoyed themselves immensely - lovely weather, bathing in the lake, riding about; I had too much to do at home to stay with them - I however rode over nearly every day to see them, and managed to stay one night. Just at present I have my friend Yonge staying with me - he came for a night, and has been here three already. He is married to Miss McMunn's sister - he cannot stand exposure to bad weather now, although he has done his days of rough out-door work, mining and farming.



March 5th, 1889.

I am anxious to take up a good tract of land adjoining our own on terra firma, and am unable to do so on account of there being a limit to the amount of land one is allowed to rent in one's own name. When I can show that I have no land standing in my own name, I can obtain the lease of the block I want, which consists of about 70,000 acres, and is the limit of the amount that may stand in one name. The land we occupy stands in the name of my wife's inheritance.

If I can find a man to take charge we shall certainly come home this year, but it is no easy matter to get one. We have a good deal of stock, and a really good man is needed. I have got a sort of foreman to look after some of the outside work, but a manager is what is wanted. I am very anxious about scab this year - our neighbours have it, and although so far we are clear I feel, as I said, very anxious. It is perhaps the greatest curse that a flock master can suffer from. On Elizabeth Island I have a perfectly clean farm, and no fear of outside contagion. There was a very good clip on the Island, and I wish it was a bit bigger - I am starting a little cattle station up in the Argentine, with eventually a view to stocking with sheep, but at present the land is so infested with pumas that it would be simply fattening them to put sheep on the ground. Cattle roust them (pumas) around. The puma is a lazy dispositioned beast, and hates being disturbed after his meals - old cows and bulls roust him up and annoy him greatly, and when he finds that cows


disturb him, "that men with dogs and horrid noise arouse him from digestive joys", he makes himself scarce, and if not killed returns at least no more. The land I have taken in Argentine I have a ten year lease of, at a low rent - it is well watered and fairly grassed, on the coast, a few miles, say 25, South of Santa Cruz River. I have more cattle than I want here, and so shift them up there. I had a few lines from my old friend Kemmis in the Argentine, a short time ago, telling me about a wonderful sale of horses that he had - some 37 animals realised an average of about £635, which one may well call tip-top, all of his own breeding and only four of them quite thoroughbred. I think that average is hard to beat even in England for a similar number.


October 31st, 1889.

I have not found a house to suit me yet, but we have inspected several. There is a nice little house at Knaresboro' but dining and drawing rooms are very small for us. I am not sure now that I shall come to London at all - the shipbroker, Mr Townsend, came from Liverpool, where he was for a day, to see me here, and we arranged matters satisfactorily, so that object of my journey is over, and what will induce me to come will be the pleasure of seeing you again. House hunting takes up a lot of time and correspondence. I have found a tutor for Frank - Mr Summerfield, with whom he was before.


Punta Arenas,
October 27th, 1890.

While I was in Santiago a partner in one of the largest banks offered me £10,000 to establish a sheep farm, and a large share of the profits if I would undertake the management myself, but I have enough on my hands already and so declined the whole business. I did not look for any capital, and curiously enough had offers from two other people whom I hardly knew - but always with the same condition. Do you know it really made me think that I must have more in me than I thought. However, now the glamour of the idea has passed over, I recognise that I have been fortunate, and have owed a very great deal to Marie's good head and sense.


July 19th, 1895.

For the 14th July, the French Republican day, we organised a little fete. We began the day by hoisting a big French flag and saluting it, and then went for a ride - a big dinner party - 18 at table; then for the kids we had tableaux - Bluebeard, Little Red Riding Hood, songs, music; then magic lantern, followed by dancing 'till 1.30 a.m., when we, being early folks, to bed. We have had seven people staying with us ever since, and have had dancing every night; very rural, but I can tell you we have all thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. Nellie as Fatima looked charming, and Edward made a splendid Bluebeard. On the night of the 15th we had some more tableaux, among which we had The Old Woman Who Lived In a Shoe, and


enlisted all the children we could get for the purpose. Farming operations progress slowly these short days, but as most of the work is contract work, it is not of so much importance as when one has a lot of monthly extra hands. Wool does not seem to improve much, and I suppose you all look anxiously for a rise.


September 7th, 1895.

Get me also some of Walter Besant's books - "London" I have; say "The Children of Gibson", "The Cloister and the Hearth", and one other - any good books of Travel are always welcome, and if there is such a thing as the History of our Colonial Empire in a compendious form I should like to have it.

Between Chile and Argentina there is the standing dispute of the limits question, and in the latter country the press and political parties adopt a very bellicose tone - Chile says little or nothing, but in a quiet way strengthens her land and sea forces. This armed peace is however a great strain upon her resources, and I suppose the day cannot be far distant when the final moment for decision must arrive. I do not fear for Chile's ultimate victory, but she will gain but little by it. The governing classes in Chile are averse to war, as they think that whatever advantages they may gain would be only temporary ones, on account of the great size and fast increasing population of Argentina - they say that perhaps twenty years later Argentina would most likely commence a war of revenge and recoup herself for any losses now suffered. Still, if the Chileans get an


idea into their heads that Argentina means to bully them, they will fight at all hazards and assuredly give a very good account of themselves. It would be a disastrous business for both countries, and it is to be hoped that war may be avoided - one thing is unlikely, and that is that Chile will be the one to commence hostilities.

If you can get a second-hand edition of Winwood Reade's "Martyrdom of Man" I should like to have it. There is also a book called, I believe, "Life of Father Tom Burke" which I should like to have - he was a great preacher, and leader of charitable works. Don't get me any rubbishy novels, but Rudyard Kipling's poems I should like. I hope that all these commissions will not bother you too much.

Our winter is at last at an end, and very severe the latter part of it has been - even now the frosts at night are very hard, but the sun has power in the day. Losses of stock will be very heavy, especially when the Spring grass begins to [...] away.


December 13th, 1895.

I went into the Colony to meet Frank, and the day after I got back here, the 28th. Nov., I got a very bad fall in camp, breaking three ribs, and getting trod on by the horse on shoulder, groin, knee and leg below knee. The ribs I could not help, but the rest I might have avoided had I not hung on to my reins, which enabled my steed to perform a sort of war dance on my person; he finally gave a terrific pull at the reins, which


seemed to tear me in half, and then I knew no more 'till I found myself lying on the hillside about three quarters of a mile from home. After a bit I got on my legs and crawled home - for eleven days I could not lie down in bed, but sat in a chair, and now I cannot lie down, but sleep propped up with pillows - however, I do get some sleep, which at first I did not. How long it will be before I get on a horse again I don't know, for the bones don't begin to knit, and go rather like muffled castanets inside of me - it is very annoying, just at the busy time, and painful too. Luckily the lungs were not touched by the bones, so I have kept pretty clear of fever. Marie is a fine nurse, and I go on first rate. I get about with a stick quite comfy.

After our terrific winter we have had a grand spring, and I never saw stock get so fat in such a short time. We have begun shearing, but I have not yet been able to get to the shed which is a couple of miles away.

I want you to get me the Napoleon Gallery of Engravings published by the St Pauls Illustrated paper - I think they cost some 7/- or 8/- but if a bit more it does not matter, as I should like to have them.


January 27th. 1896.

Was Jameson's attempt to invade the Transvaal, [unsuccessful uprising over New Year 1896, led by British politician Leander Starr Jameson] also an attempt by the Chartered Co. to force Lord Salisbury into a war with that one-horse Republic? Damn Republics - give me a [illegible] monarchy.

I have pretty near got over my accident, but riding makes me feel stiff and sore about my back and side [illegible].


Yesterday we went to call on a neighbour who lives about twenty miles away - Marie drove in a very light American buggy I got for her, and enjoyed her drive immensely. Coming back she took 2.h.15, and halfway back we were overtaken by the heaviest rain I ever saw in this country - in less than two minutes not one of us had a dry stitch on us. The latter part of the road was heavy after the rain, and I thought it was a grand performance of the little horse she was driving, who is not more than 14.1. She and Frank were in the buggy, and they had to stop to open two gates - had the road not been heavy during the latter part of the run home they would have done it in very little over the two hours. We have two very nice little horses broken to harness, for her. In this part of the world our horses are our great pleasure - Edward, Nellie, and Hennie have two each, and I have a rare wee pony for Harry and Charlie. The latter has already had a tumble or two, but without doing more than making his nose bleed. Nellie and Hennie are very good on horseback; they always ride astride, and they both have beautiful seats and hands. Edward's style is much rougher, but he can stick to them and bustle them along in pretty good form. In fact the Reynard blood seems to crop out amongst them.


March 17th., 1896.

I have just returned from a trip to Santa Cruz and back - 5 days ride there, 5 days back again, and 8 days there, nearly all of which I spent on horseback; long travelling days


most of them, and I find that my ribs seem to be loosened where they were broken, and again give me pain. The manner of my overthrow was simple - I was riding a young horse who has his evil days, 'though generally quiet enough, but that day happened to be one of them. I knew it the moment I got on him - he was very queer all the morning, and I was, after finishing my work, coming galloping home on the crest of a ridge when he buckled to jumping; so long as he kept on the ridge top I didn't care, but he suddenly whipped to the off side, his head down a hill like a house roof, and half way down the hill he put me down fair and square, with such a thump that I think I raised a young earthquake in that region. I hung on to the reins and he danced a sort of triumphal dance on me 'till at last he gave a pull on the reins, which seemed to tear me in two, and when I came to myself again, I was lying on the hillside, no horse visible, and a walk of nearly a mile. It was not a warm day, but I was in a white lather before I got two hundred yards - it was a very painful journey. Luckily the broken ribs did not touch the lungs, so I did not need a doctor - I think what was more painful than the ribs, was my right groin, on which my gay steed trod.

We have had one of the best summers I have seen in this country; plenty of rain and not so much wind as usual. I got some barley nearly ripe, but a gale of wind beat all or nearly all the grain off the ear, so I am cutting it for forage for the bullocks (working) in winter. My sheep in Santa Cruz are doing well, and I have got the land surveyed. The pumas have however played literal hell with the flock last year; out


of a total of about 8,000 head, they killed 1,037, besides what died from other causes. Greenwood and his neighbours killed 170 odd of these pests to the sheep farmer. For any gentleman of sporting tastes, that part of Patagonia offers a fine field for his skill and energy - pumas, guanacos, ostrich, wild cattle, seal on the coast and much small game.

Greenwood is going home this year, and I shall give him a letter of introduction to you. He is a gentleman, and a most witty and amusing fellow. His health has not been good lately, and he needs a change.

War between Chile and Argentina is again talked about but I doubt if it will get beyond talk - it will be Japan and China over again - Viva Chile!


June 13th., 1896.

We have been in this little town the last three weeks settling up the affairs on Frank's coming of age, and have got all satisfactorily arranged at last. Marie and Frank [Marie's son, François Roig] have entered into partnership, and the deed has been duly drawn up and executed. They will now work the farm together.

I have been up to my eyes in work these three weeks - the formalities for handing over the property and getting legal papers put through have been most tedious. The lawyers and notary seem to have no idea of the value of time, and never do today what they can put off 'till tomorrow.

I had a letter from Nell this morning - she says "I


hope you will be quick and come back" - I know I shall be glad to get home again; I have a comfortable little cottage here, but I miss the family very much.


Fulford Hall,
March 13th. 1900.

I quite agree with you that if we could sell Nether Hall even for £1,500 it would be better than keeping it, because the latter course entails retaining a perhaps considerable sum to put the place in thorough order. I am writing Stickney to meet me at Nafferton to go over Nether Hall, and inspect repairs done and form an idea of what ought to be done. One of us ought to go, and as you cannot very well, and Will is engrossed in sowing spring corn, and other agricultural matters, it devolves to me to see to it.

Your loving brother

Henry L. Reynard



Miscellaneous Correspondence

Letter from Shepherd Wilson to his brother at Quilimane, East Africa [Quelimane, Mozambique].

Sandy Point,
Straits of Magellan,

Dear Jack,

I received a letter from Sissie which contained all the sad news of poor little Polly and Mamma. I can assure you I felt it very much - you may guess how I felt it - I grew that sick that if it had not been for my boss's son, because he saw me getting so white, he ran for a tumbler of cold water, which saved me from fainting; or otherwise, I would have fainted. However, I got over it and said to myself it was all done for the best, and you know we must all go some time sooner or later.

Now Jack, you know i'm an awful bad writer, speller and dictator, so I will write this in paragraphs, and I know it must be very bad when you won't be able to read it.

Now to begin, the last word I had from anyone belonging to me was from yourself, and that letter I received in Dunkirk all right, but could get no chance to go home as you wished me to do, and on the other hand I had no money to pay my passage and you can bet I wouldn't lay down on the streets and die, so I went into a boarding house and shipped in a full rigger bound for Philadelphia, which was a d…d hard packet, but you know I know the way to get along, so I got through it all right - when I arrived in Philadelphia, what could I do? no money; well, I


went into another, "S. B. Hall". Now of all the hard ships I ever saw, heard or read about, this was the cock-crow, the "Berlin"; well, I shipped as an a.b. [AB = able-bodied seaman] in the great American ship Berlin, bound for San Francisco, but thank God it wasn't my luck to go that distance with her, for if I did I very likely would have got prison for no less than 5 years, but you see the more I travel the more I learn, if not by knowledge it's by experience and perseverance that I have got in cultivating an evil plot for a lot of idiots to perform - I need not say they were all idiots, because they done what I told them, but I being the only one on board or in the forecastle that had any gumption, so they all used me as their counsellor, and I may say the chief ring-leader at first. Now I may tell you the officers were all hard nuts, but it so happened that there was very few Dutchmen among us - however, the biggest crown of us were men that neither feared God, devil, nor men, which was a good job too. Well Jack, I must cut this paragraph a little short by saying that it came to mutiny after we got 'round Cape Horn, and told the captain to put into a port or we would sink her and draw blood if he had to refuse, so the captain said the nearest port was the Falkland Islands - "all right then, put her in or by G.d" and so forth, you know the rest - I only wish you had to be with us, for I must say I enjoyed the fun from A.1. at Lloyds. However, when we got into port we were taken ashore and tries - the result was 14 days hard labour, which was only a sleep; after, he had to pay our passages across to Punta Arenas, where I am at present, so now you know how I got here. (end of para 1)


Paragraph 2.

Now to tell you my plans. In the first place I'm a shepherd here at six pounds per month, and am engaged for a 12 months, which is not up until the 9th April '89, when I hope to have a little put together, but mind you I don't intend to go home then either, until I consider what I can do - Great God come out to me at once and I will get you a place along with me and you see - if you come at once we can make, or after you are in this country a wee while or you and me can put our heads together and get a sheep-farm of our own in no time. Jack I don't want you to waste any more time, as you know we are both getting old, and must look out for a kind of living respectfully too. The land is very cheap and so are the sheep, and considering everything, a fellow like you and me can get on like a house on fire, for I know some men here that started on mere nothing and are getting on A.1. For the great God that made us lose no time in coming out to me. I suppose you can raise your passage money - if so drop me a note saying which mail to expect you, and I will take one of my own horses into the Colony at port for you. At present I have two young horses that I tamed myself I got them very cheap from a fellow that wanted the money. The short and long of it is that this country is the very best for anything and everything, and the like of you can make money flying at anything. Jack, if you were here along with me for two years, then we would be gentlemen, and one of us could go home for Cissie, and then we would be all together; you know we are orphins [sic, orphans] now, and must get a respectful livelihood for the sake of our parents and our name.


Now Jack, you know that East Africa is not at all healthy, and I hope you will consider your health a little, and consider me too - good God, if you were to die I would simply go to hell again, for what could I do? I would have no friend in the world except poor Cissie, and you can understand there is nothing for me at home now. You see, by the 19th day of March 1989 I come to be 21 years of age, and I think you are 26, so mind what I say, there is no time to be lost - come at once. (end of paragraph 2)

Paragraph 3.

Now to begin another, Jack, I'm strict teetotaller, and have been for nearly 18 months, which if you come out I don't intend to break, but if you don't I don't know what I shall do. At present I make every farthing a prisoner, and spend very little; the fact is I get the name of being the meanest fellow in the country, which I like, so you come and then we will both act the same, which will be awful nice, because the fellows that are here all drink and spend their money, and never get out of the bit which I can't see through. There are two of us in one house and I have a fine chum which is a canny Scotchman, from him I learned all my good qualities that I have now - his name is Robert Grant, and a very nice sensible fellow, so now I'll live in hopes 'till I get an answer from you. Remember Jack, my boss thinks a great deal of me, which I watch and work to the best of my abilitys [sic] for - so, when you write, write awful good, [an] envelope anyhow. So I will conclude wishing you a happy Xmas and a merry New Year, Good Night Jack. S.S.P.D. [sic] you used to say


to Miss. J. Banningtoyne [Banningtyne?].

I am your affectionate bro:


My address

C/O H.L.Reynard Esq.,
Punta Arenas,
Strait of Magellan,
South America.

I can speak the Spanish pretty well now, and can do almost anything under the sun, Jack. Write to me by return of mail.


Letters from G. E. Harris, at Oazy Harbour.

Oazy Harbour,
Punta Arenas,
23 June, 1889.

After an uneventful voyage, I arrived here safe in the "Sorata". I was very pleased to get on shore, for I was thoroughly sick of the sea, and happy to think at the end of all, I had not adopted the mercantile profession.

Mr Reynard boarded the steamer, and I felt at the moment, that my troubles were over. He had an extra boat on hand for my luggage, and the landing did not cost me a cent. From the sea, Sandy Point has not an inviting aspect, but I am glad to say, improves materially on closer acquaintance. At least so I found it. During a stay of nine days at the Colony I was the guest of Mr Reynard, and have every reason to be grateful for the enjoyment his introductions assured me.

After a high old time of it at the Colony, during which I drank more liquor than I have probably done at any


previous period, at least in conformity with the custom of a country, we made tracks for Oazy Harbour. It was heavy going - it had rained continuously for several days before our departure and showed no signs of abating. I was eager to be installed in my new vocation, and so the journey was not longer delayed. We made two stoppages, the first at a small sheep station - owing to the river in front being swollen and unfordable; and the next at a Pass - a sort of inland sea, where we encamped for the night, and endured the pangs of hunger 36 hours. There was very low tide at early dawn, so over we went, and got home about eleven. Of course I was hungry, weary and sore - but it has certainly been the hardest moment I am likely in the ordinary course of events to endure.

Of my new life I must speak in the highest terms. The climate is as you described it - infinitely better than the ordinary London, or for that, British one. For four days of the week one has clear Italian skies, and the coldest days are endurable. Some winters, I am told, are simply terrific, but the present one is apparently a very mild exception. I am learning to do as Rome does, and have as far benefited by the change that I have become quite stout in the space of three weeks.

This is undoubtedly a fine country for a young man, providing of course that he has not an early ambition to marry and rear a large family. I consider myself very lucky in having secured a position on the Staff of Mr Reynard, and must again return my thanks to you for the same.

G. E. Harris


Oazy Harbour,
19th. Jany 1890.

Dear Mr Reynard,

At the present moment we are rapidly completing the important business of shearing. Shearing is a very dirty work but as it proceeds one becomes so accustomed to the necessary adjuncts of dust and grease, as to be absolutely unhappy without them. The Wool Shed is arranged on much the same plan as in Australia. A long building within a few yards of the beach; the base forming a receptacle for bales, etc, and the centre composing small pens into which, from the opposite side (having outlet to the Corrals) the sheep are driven as required. A pen is allotted to each shearer, and when he has finished he calls for Cuenta [Count] - the sheep are then turned out through a side door, the number being taken and the man credited by the name on tally-board.

Gathering sheep is a pleasant enough occupation. A party extend in line over the camp to be gathered, and arrange their course by certain low hills or bushes. They slowly drive the sheep before them to a given point from whence they - the sheep - are driven en masse to the Galpón [Shed].

Sheep are in themselves very uninteresting animals, but some of the operations performed on them are entertaining enough. Lamb marking, for instance, is a very lively business, We were gathering sheep one whole day, and brought a large flock to the appointed Corrals, only to see it break away and split up at the last moment. Two shakes of a lamb's tail, and we


must gather afresh, and bring them in by small points at a time. Hard work on the horses this:

A very nice young fellow named Bevil Molesworth has appeared on the scene. I went in to meet the "Sorata" and brought him out to the Estancia. He was not particularly charmed with Sandy Point, but is now looking quite cheerful.

They may say that Punta Arenas is rising, but in some respects it has hardly got to zero yet.

A month or so ago, a low fever carried away the rag-tag and bobtail of the place, but it has now subsided. The local doctor called it Measles, but did not say whether they were a kind peculiar to Chile or no. This gentlemen was recently married by proxy at Valparaiso - that is, he married a photo, and when the "Oratava" arrived with the bride, was so nervous in the boat going off, that he nearly upset it.

I do not like life in the Colony. The camp is infinitely preferable. Of course the bottle fiend haunts one everywhere. Last week a schooner belonging to a Roman Catholic Bishop Fanani, or Fagnano, came to the Harbour on business. The captain supplied - very considerately - a case of cheap German spirits to the men, and next day they were nearly all (two bright examples) roaring ----k. It is possible that when your brother returns from the Colony and hears of the matter, this same captain will not long retain his place - foolish man.

There is capital sport here during the winter. I enjoyed the shooting very much. On one occasion however, I was


very nearly drowned - this occurred in the following manner.

One day after a hard frost I went duck-shooting towards the Blue Hills. I crept 'round the outskirts of a baga [sic] to the windward, and tethered my horse to some bushes behind which I hoped to creep up unobserved. Ultimately I got into position and took sight on a swarm of red and blue Teals that were in the centre of a pond where the water, owing to a strong natural spring, is seldom frozen. I fired, and they rose into the air with a whizz and a considerable splash, and I gave them the second barrel as they passed over, with good results.

In the water were several more. It was a good way from the bank so taking the bozal [halter] off my horse, I walked on the ice, intending to throw it out and drag them in. It proved to be several yards too short - thinks I "If I go any further, the ice may give way" - it was already creaking considerably - and at the moment of thinking, in I went. Four feet of water that nearly took my breath away, and a soft slimy bottom of green fungus that would have let me in yet another four feet. However, after taking the soundings, I got a big piece of ice under my feet, and managed to regain the thick firm ice, on to which, with much slipping, I first got my breast, then my stomach, and finally my legs, and if I did not leave that ice then with as little delay as possible, I have not inherited Christianity. Getting thoroughly soused, however is, during the winter, a feature of Camp life.

I have almost become what is termed in Castellano [Spanish language], un joven del campo [a young man of the country] : I can ride well enough bare-back, and


might consider myself fairly deft in many things in which I was daft formerly.

Your brother has always treated me with great leniency and has made my life here more enjoyable than it would otherwise have been. I was particularly well pleased that he should have spoken so well concerning me, and I shall strive to deserve his good opinion.

Bevil Molesworth is entering thoroughly into the work with much spirit and resolution. Every half hour or so, he requests me to scratch his back, or examine his clothes for ticks, which, by the way, I dislike as much as himself. Sheep ticks bite like cockroaches, and are as tenacious as leeches, but, luckily, do little execution.

There are many curious species of birds here, which it would take a volume to describe. In summer one may observe a new kind every day. Flamingos, are plentiful, likewise swans, geese, curlew and pelicans [?] - condors too are sometimes met with.

The winds are terrific, and enough to blow a fellow out of his saddle. It makes ones teeth chatter, when prospecting for cattle, one mounts the slope of a hill in the face of a fierce gale.

At the time of writing I am in excellent health. You will no doubt have heard of the physical improvement I have made. This alone I consider an adequate compensation for the slight duties I have performed.

If not too late I will wish you a Happy New Year, and increased good health.


I thank you for conveying Mr Legge's good wishes for my prosperity, which same pleased me very much. Kind regards to Mr Legge.

Yours faithfully,

George E. Harris.


Letter  from  Mr  Greenwood  to  E.  W.  Reynard

Heleston [Helston, Cornwall],
Sunday 14. Nov [1920]

My dear Harry,

First of all, very many thanks for your kindness in sending me the rifle cartridges, which arrived safely this morning. I did not mean to ask you to give them to me, but am delighted to accept them from you, knowing that you, like your father before you, are pleased to give help and pleasure to an old fossil friend. When the wild fowl, snipe, duck, etc. begin to arrive, please tell your better half that she shall have the very first I kill. I am very old and shaky about the legs, but can shoot as straight as ever, and luckily there are two huge ponds and several boggy fields quite close to this house, and every year I get a good many snipe, duck, etc, from this bit of ground, so I don't doubt I shall this year, if I am spared, be successful as usual.

I am quite sure I have not offended Nell and Hugh - I look upon Nell as one of the dearest, sweetest, and best women I have ever met - bar my wife, the best, and I love her as a


daughter; no one who knows her sweet, kind, thoughtful character could help loving her - but I, knowing her delicate state of health, have been very much worried at her long silence. No doubt, as you say, our letters have gone astray, and are probably kicking about in some Patagonian post office at this moment. We are of course writing her and her husband long letters with our Xmas greetings. When you write to me please tell me exactly how to direct my letters - is it better to send them via Santa Cruz, or via Punta Arenas?

Herewith I forward to you a quantity of my Patagonian articles - published some years ago. I am sure they will interest you - keep them as long as you like and copy what you like but return them to me when you have quite finished with them, as, if I ever manage to get my own book finished, I may require them for reference. I doubt if I shall ever write all I want to - you know I am a very old feeble man now, and tho' the spirit is willing the flesh is weak. I wonder how I have managed to remember all the details I have sent you, but I have only done it by making a note of anything that occurs to me at once. Whether I am at meals, in bed, out shooting, or working in the garden. This is the only way at my age.

Now to answer your questions.

(1) The first sheep which came to the Colony from the Falkland Islands consisted of two points of 40 and 130 wethers - 40 came in the "Louisa" (Captain Chas. Hansen) and 130 in the "Fairy", (Captain A. Laws). I purchased the lot, and killed and sold them for meat at 20 cts a lb. After that, M. Roig, Francois' father, brought a lot of ewes and started farming at San Gregorio.


This was really the first farm worthy of the name, and afterwards it, as you know, became the property of José Menéndez. Then I believe your father put sheep on Elizabeth Island, also some cattle, all in charge of that useless skunk Jack Harvey. He did not make a bad shepherd, but was utterly untrustworthy and remained so 'till old Tom Foreman put a bullet through him. He was generous and had some good points, and that is all I can say in his favour.

I think Elizabeth Island paid fairly well at least at first, 'till Scab broke out - I don't know why your father gave it up - I was away at the time. Then a crowd of Falkland Islanders came over just before or immediately after your father and mother started Oazy Harbour. Greenshields and Douglas were, I believe, the first, then Waldron and Wood, then Captain Eberhard and two other Germans whose names I forget. Then came Woodman and Redman (very dear friends of mine) at Güeraike, Río Gallegos; then Halliday, Jack and Bill Rudd, Herbert Fenton [sic, Felton], then Jamieson, the two French Guillaumes and Juan Rico [?], - then Patterson and Campbell, then Christopher Smith and his two sons Jack and Peter. Then we started at Cañadón de las Vacas - our nearest neighbours were Patterson and Campbell and the Smiths, to the South, and Coates and Campbell on the North.

As for all the old Santa Cruz Colonists, they never did any good - neglected the wretched scabby little flocks they had out of the 20 or 30 sheep given to each of them by Government. Máximo Clemente was the best of them, but he was a confirmed and inveterate gambler - indeed gambling was about the


only thing he cared about. Old John Poppy, made a mess of his farm, and returned to the Falklands to resume his duties as sexton or grave-digger, whatever he was. I believe Betts, who took over Johnson and Poppy's place, has got a decent farm and was a very good fellow.

As for Thief Brazier, if he has not already gone to the warm quarters waiting for him and his chaste wife, I hope they will soon do so and receive the treatment they so well deserve. I loved that man, and would have done anything for him, and he gave me a nice return. I hope I shall never even hear of any of the family again. I might forgive, and have forgiven many men who swindled me, but that dirty blackguard I will curse on my dying bed, as I was his intimate and kind friend, and he turned out an utter scoundrel.

Perhaps you will not have known any of these men whose adventures I have scribbled in some of the articles I forward, but they may interest you. Old Kelly or Brown as he called himself, is one of the men who was wrecked with us, and his name is on the Wreck Pipe [?] which was made in commemoration of the event.

I think I have now told you all I can remember - if there is anything I have omitted please let me know. I can't write any more to-day, as I have one of my weak attacks and feel fit for nothing. I daresay I shall get all right when the weather improves, but all the horrible damp and wet tries my worn out old carcass sorely.

With love and every kind wish to you both from us both


and once more thanking you for your kind present, believe me dear Harry,

Ever your affect. Friend,
William H. Greenwood.

Don't hurry to return the cuttings - any time will do - if I go under, send them to my wife, who values them very much.

Good bye old chap.

In case you require the names of the first settlers and Colonists in Santa Cruz, N. and S. of River, they are as follows -

S.  Side.

First of all H. Rouquaud, who established the fishing and all business at S. Side in Misioneros.

2. Luis Piedra Buena and his nephew Pedro Dagon [?] and the Richmonds, Juan and Pedro. They started a trading station.

3. Máximo Clemente, José Manjans [?], Silvestre Algruals [?], Victoriano Vásquez.

N.  Side.

Cipriano García, Saturnino García, Agustín Lagovia [?], Leppart [?], Lewis and Bertram and two brothers Arnold (Germans).

Can't remember any more just now - I daresay you don't care about these parts.

I hope you have mentioned our dear old friend Doctor Fenton, in the book. I am writing a sketch of his life for Mrs Yonge, and her daughter Violet; would you like to see it when finished? Let me know when you write - it is nearly finished.



Letter from Mr  C. H.  Webster,  from  Manzone.

Manzone, F.C.C.B.A.
5th July, 1920

My dear Reynard,

You must be surprised at receiving so many letters from me, but the reason is that I am gradually finding something that may interest you. Only last night I remembered an incident that may interest you.

If you read the cuttings, you will see that the correspondent says that your father was absent in England - I now remember the reason why. One of the Las Rosas partners, Selby Cookson [Walter Selby Cookson, died 1879 in London, aged 36.] , went mad - he was an old Harrovian, and a fellow officer with Kemmis in, I think the 84th regiment of the line. I am not quite sure of the number of the regiment. Cookson was a man generally liked, and no one knew what was best to do with him, so your father offered to take him home to London, which was accepted with great satisfaction. This was no common thing to do in those days, and wanted pluck of no ordinary class. They had to go first by carriage (8 leagues) to connect in going for the train - then to Rosario by train, then by steamer to B.Aires. Then the hotel business and then home by steamer. He had, I believe, a very bad time of it, but he succeeded, and handed over to his family the poor fellow, who died soon after. We at the time thought a lot of this performance.

Again wishing you good luck,
Believe me your sincere friend,
Carlos H Webster.



Business  Correspondence


Britannia Iron Works,

February 22nd. 1911.

Henry L. Reynard Esquire
(of Newark)
Passenger S.S. "Ortega"
C/o The Pacific Steam Navigation Co.
31, James Street, Liverpool.

Dear Mr Reynard,

I am very sorry I was unable to write you yesterday. I had two lots of people over from Russia with regard to Agency arrangements. As there was no one else to deal with them, I had my hands full.

As I have told you before, it is very difficult to give an exact date allowing for testing a new design, but as far as I can see we ought to be able to get this Tractor away by the end of March at latest. I am hoping to have it ready for test at the end of this week, and if the test turns out satisfactory and we have nothing to alter, everything will then be plain sailing.

I take it you will not want to know about this until your arrival on the other side, and therefore I would suggest that we cable you. I could arrange this with Mr Aylwin, and if we find we can ship any day in March, I should simply cable you the one word, for instance, if we find we can ship the 28th. March, I should cable you the one word 28th, we should then be able to really post you up as to actual shipment date, by the time you reach the other side.

Mr Aylwin will no doubt know where to wire to, if not, perhaps you will let me know, as you can no doubt send us a letter from Lisbon.

Yours sincerely,
(sd) Herbert Marshall.


S.S. "Ortega", Feby 24th 1911

Herbert Marshall Esq. Gainsborough.

Dear Mr Marshall,

I thank you for your letter of 22nd. inst, which was awaiting me on board when I embarked.


I am glad to think that you feel justified in stating that you think that the Tractor will be ready to be shipped the end of March.

I should be glad to receive a cable giving me date of shipment, addressed

C/o Christensen,
Punta Arenas,

will always find me.

Yours sincerely,
(sd) Henry L. Reynard.


Copy  of  letter  to  H. M.  Carr,  Güeraike.

[Hubert Carr was the estancia manager]


McGeorge has decided to sell his share in the Tractor and get one for himself - he holds £700 nominal value, and offd. them to me, paying him 5% for the use of the money; it does not suit me to take his share over, but Victor Fenton would, I believe, buy him out on McG's own terms. They have not however met together yet to discuss the matter. Betancourt [estancia owner] has £660 in the affair, I have £650 and a sum of £178.18.4. I have pd. the Bank for the Co. and a few other items which amount abt. I think to a £10 note. Should a new Co. be formed, I think the original capital should be paid for by the new Co. by handing to original holders, or those who may have purchased the original holdings, fully pd. preference shares for the nominal amount of their capital, and 50% of the same amt. in fully pd. ordy. shares The Pref. Shrs. to rank equally for dividends up to 10% and a certain larger proportion of any further sum available for divs.


after payt. of 10%. and in case of Liquidation the pref. shares to be paid off at their full face value before the ordinary share holders can participate in the assets. I should further propose that a portion, and a considerable portion, of the ordy. shrs. handed to the original S.T.E.G. partners should be accorded free to Aylwin, for the services he has rendered to the original Co. - this information please regard as private, of course with the exception of communicating my ideas to Mr Betancourt, who, I think, would be in accord with them.

These suggestions of mine I have not had an opportunity of communicating to Victor Fenton, and as up to the present he has no interest in the S.T.E.G. [perhaps, Steam Traction Engine G____] there is no immediate necessity for my doing so. Victor Fenton himself has not told me that he will purchase McG's part, but Aylwin tells me that Victor Fenton told him that he was prepared to purchase - he left before I had a chance to see him, for his farm - perhaps you saw him on the way. (Social what follows)




The Manager, A.S.A. Bank,

Dear Sir,

Under separate cover I send you the Protesta re the new valuation for the Contribución Territorial, and ask you to be good enough to forwd. them to the Govt. Office. Will you also be good enough to obtain for me a Cert. of Payt. of the C.T. for 1911 on Lot 3 Sec.15 Fracc A. and on Lots 4/7 Secc 15 Fracc A, and send me Cert. to C/o L A R P Bk. [London and River Plate Bank] B. Aires.


The idea is being mooted to form a Traction Co. which shld. take over the present S.T.E.G. As you are aware, Dr Victor Fenton proposes to purchase McG's share in S.T.E.G. at price of the money he has put into it, £700 plus 5%.

Shld. the project of a new Co. be realized, I think that the originators of the old Co. shld. receive from the new Co. Pref Shares for the face value of the amt. put into the present Co. and 50% of this amt. in ordy. fully pd. shares of the new Co - the Pref Shares to be fully paid ones, and to rank for divs. equally with the ordy. shrs. of the new Co. up to 10% and any sum available for further divs. to be divided in such a way that the Pref. shrs. receive a larger % than the ordy. In case of liquidation, the Pref. shrs to receive their full face value before the ordy. shrs. can receive any portion of the assets. The original share holders might also have the right of a guarantee that their products should be carried preferentially as to time, but at current rate.

Yours truly,