Generally speaking, the nurserymen have not met with any very great loss. Some glass has been broken, but in the winter season nearly all the valuable stock, with the exception of choice trees and shrubs, is protected. Among shrubs, many of the half-hardy specimens are destroyed, their strength permitting them to stand an ordinary western winter, but not one of the severity of that of the memorable blizzard year of 1891.

CHAPTER VII.
AFTER THE STORM. THE WATER FAMINE IN PLYMOUTH.

As soon as the gale of Monday night and Tuesday had spent its force, and it became possible for the work of clearing up to be proceeded with, movements in this direction were rapidly organized in the Three Towns, as well as in all other parts of the west where men were obtainable, or traffic was at all possible. In Plymouth, Stonehouse and Devonport, the earliest opportunities had been seized of clearing the snow away from the door-ways; to free the pavements as a whole was the next important step; and finally, in the temporarily fine weather of Wednesday, the congealed masses in the roadways were attacked, and that to such good purpose, that by the following Sunday, while traces of the recent fall were frequent enough, in the majority of the streets pedestrians could walk about with comfort, and vehicular traffic was fully resumed. George Street, Plymouth, assumed before long a very different appearance from that which it bore on Tuesday morning, when Mr. Heath took the photograph from which our illustration is reproduced, and the marvellous wintry mantles that enwrapped the other portions of the town were removed with equal despatch. Hundreds of men were employed shovelling the snow into carts, from which it was subsequently tipped into the sea at Sutton Harbour and the Great Western Docks.

The railways by the end of the week had commenced to run with something like regularity, although there were one or two temporary hitches at first; and the postal telegraph services had already been partially restored. To effect the latter object, large numbers of engineers had been at work, and in the course of their labours, as may be supposed, they met with a great deal of discomfort, and some very startling adventures. Bricklayers, plumbers and plasterers plied a busy trade for weeks after the storm, their services being required to some extent in every house.

At Stonehouse, the main streets were soon freed from snow, and the usual busy throngs of people began once more to pass along this highway between Plymouth and Devonport.

At Devonport, by Friday, in many parts of the town the snow had quite disappeared, though in several of the streets heaps of slush remained, and at the railway station business went on much as usual. In Devonport Park great quantities of snow remained for a considerable time, though the paths were cleared, and traffic for foot-passengers was made easy. Mr. Rowe, of Devonport, has supplied a photograph of a very familiar scene in the Park, which is here presented. The view of the Water Steps, Milehouse Road, is also from a photograph by the same gentleman.

All over the storm-swept district, farmers were busy looking for cattle and sheep, and some marvellous instances have been told of sheep being recovered alive after being entombed for various lengthy periods, one term of snow imprisonment lasting as long as sixteen days.

As early as the Tuesday morning following the storm of Monday night, Mr. Bellamy, the Plymouth Borough Surveyor, notified to the inhabitants of that town the imminent danger of a cessation of the water supply, in consequence of the blocking by snow of the leat through which the water is brought into the town. That these warnings were needed was evident from the fact that since the Monday night the only water obtainable had been from the Hartley reservoir, which, when full, contains only two million gallons, or two days' supply. On Wednesday the whole of the available staff of the Corporation, including the men whose usual task is the repairing of the leat, were set to work, under the personal supervision of Mr. Bellamy, to clear away the frozen snow which completely filled the leat at the Head Weir, and prevented the passage through it of any water from the river. The whole leat from the Head Weir to Roborough was found to be one mass of frozen snow. On the same day, the Mayor of Plymouth, Mr. J. T. Bond, accompanied by Mr. R. Monk and Mr. G. R. Barrett, set out to walk up to Roborough, to ascertain if possible how the work was progressing. The Mayor and his companions arrived safely at Roborough, and were enabled to have communication by telephone with the borough surveyor who was at the weir head. They ascertained from him the condition of the leat, and received an urgent appeal for at least two hundred more workmen to be sent up immediately. The party then set out on their return journey, and again on foot.

Arrived in Plymouth, a meeting of the Water Committee was hastily convened, and it was ascertained that four Plymouth contractors would be able to supply about one hundred men to proceed to Roborough. This force was inadequate, and consequently the Mayor proceeded to Devonport, and having stated the case to General Sir Richard Harrison, K.C.B., commanding the district, at once received a promise of the services of a military force of two hundred—one hundred of the Welsh Regiment from the North Raglan Barracks, and another hundred of the Royal Marines, the latter by permission of Colonel Colwell, second colonel commandant.

On Wednesday the efforts of Mr. Bellamy, ably supplemented by those of Mr. Duke and Mr. Shadwell, to make rapid progress with clearing the leat near the well-known Rock Hotel at Head Weir, had been somewhat retarded. Many of the labourers employed were ill-clad, and showed signs of weakness, and when it was found that no sufficient provision had been made to supply them with food, they threw down their shovels and returned to Plymouth. Others, however, worked gallantly on through the night. On Thursday morning, things looked more promising. At an early hour the new contingent of workmen engaged on the previous day, and the two detachments of the military—the men of the Welsh Regiment under Lieutenants de la Chapelle and Ready, and the Marines commanded by Captain Kelly and Lieutenants Mullins and Drake-Brockman—were on the spot, and these, being divided into gangs, set vigorously to work on the leat at various points. During the morning large commissariat supplies were received from Plymouth, and the men, besides having a plentiful supply of food, were served at intervals with hot coffee.

Some serious difficulties were encountered, and heavy labour on the part of the civilian labourers and the soldiers was entailed. There were nearly ten miles of leat to be cleared, and much of the snow was frozen into hard solid masses, against which but slow headway could be made. In some places the leat was completely buried under frozen snow of great depth, and for hundreds of yards snow rose in drifts from ten to twelve feet in height, burying the rails guarding the leat, and rendering it difficult to trace its course accurately. The young Welsh soldiers worked well, and the services of the Marines were found invaluable.

By nightfall, when work ceased, it was found that the leat had been cleared for a mile and a half from the Head Weir towards Yennadon. On Yennadon Down Lieutenant de la Chapelle's men had cleared the way nearly as far as Dousland, and near the Roborough Reservoir a clearance of three miles had been made. At about six o'clock the troops and civilian labourers, numbering about 450, returned to Yelverton Station, and ultimately, after a vexatious, but, fortunately, not serious mishap, reached Plymouth.

Fears were expressed during Thursday night that there would be another snowstorm on Dartmoor, and this proved to be the case. A violent gale raged on the moor, and three feet of snow fell, undoing much of what the heavy toil of the previous day had accomplished. Much of the snow that had been removed from the leat had drifted back, and part of the work had to be done over again.

On Friday morning, a special train left Millbay with 200 general labourers. There were also 100 Marines under Lieutenants Sousbie and Garrett; 150 men of the Dorset Regiment, under Captain Lushington and Lieutenants Mangles and Household; and 50 men of the Welsh Regiment, under Lieutenant Woodville. The civilians were under the direction of Mr. S. Roberts, and the Mayor of Plymouth, Mr. G. R. Barrett (deputy-chairman of the Water Committee), Mr. W. H. Mayne, Mr. R. Monk, and Mr. G. Bellamy, junior, accompanied the party. The train had a rough time, on account of the heavy gale that was blowing, and just before Bickleigh Station was reached it was brought to a standstill by a snow-drift. About fifty of the labourers had to cut a way through the snow, enabling the party, after nearly an hour's delay, to proceed on their journey.

On arriving at Yelverton the weather was found to be so bad that, after some consultation, it was considered advisable to send the military back to Plymouth, and, after clearing the rails for the return of their own train, they, with about fifty civilian labourers, started on the return journey. Mr. Roberts, however, with his men proceeded along the leat to a point near Clearbrook, but so fierce was the storm that work could not be commenced, and an adjacent barn was used as a temporary refuge. In less than two hours work was begun, and by four o'clock in the afternoon a clear way of four feet in width was made from Yelverton Bridge to Roborough Reservoir, a distance of six miles. A contingent under the direction of Messrs. T. and W. Shaddock, and another directed by Mr. Duke had been progressing most satisfactorily, and, when night approached and success was within view, all the men expressed their readiness to work all night if needful, so that the leat might be all clear before the morning. This, however, was not necessary, and before seven o'clock a clear passage for the water had been made along the whole ten miles of leat. The water had still to be brought on, and a hundred men volunteered to remain, under Mr. Bellamy, and work on until a good stream was running. Their services were accepted, and the other two hundred men, with the Mayor and Messrs. Roberts and Duke returned to Plymouth by a special train at nine o'clock. The great piece of work thus happily accomplished had been ably assisted by the Mayor of Plymouth, Councillors G. R. Barrett, and R. A. Monk, and Messrs. A. R. Debnam, S. Roberts, Duke and Shaddock, contractors under the Corporation. Mr. Bellamy, with his staff, Messrs. Prigg, A. G. Davey, S. Chapman, and G. A. Picken, worked without intermission, and had an arduous and an anxious time. Messrs. Barrett, Monk, and Mayne, managed the commissariat department, which was no light task, with admirable efficiency. Before the party of workers broke up the Mayor thanked, in the name of the town of Plymouth, all those who had assisted in the labour of averting a great calamity. Thanks were also offered to the railway officials for the efficiency of the train service. It was not until Sunday morning that a full supply of water began to flow into the cisterns, but after Saturday night all apprehension had ceased, and within a few hours the discomforts of the previous few days, as far as want of water was concerned, were removed.

Although great and growing inconvenience was caused towards the latter end of the week to all the inhabitants of Plymouth by the partial deprivation of water, things never reached the same pass as they did in the famine of 1881. Stonehouse had plenty of water, and was able to assist in supplying the western end of Plymouth. By order of the Local Board standpipes were on the Saturday erected at the Malt House, and in Millbay Road, Union Place and Eldad Hill, and all day long residents of Plymouth were supplied from these. In some parts of Plymouth families were in great difficulty, and water borrowing, where practicable, went forward on a large scale. Messrs. Polkinghorne, at their brewery in Bedford Street, Messrs. Denniford & Son, mineral water manufacturers of Russel Street, and Mr. Lewis, aërated water manufacturer of Athenæum Street, supplied hundreds of the inhabitants, free of charge, from their artesian wells.

At a meeting of the Plymouth Borough Council subsequently held, formal votes of thanks were passed to a number of citizens, as well as the military authorities, for the services they had rendered, and a rate of remuneration to the soldiers for their valuable service was fixed upon.

As soon as the Plymouth water difficulty was satisfactorily overcome, it was discovered that the Devonport leat, also on Dartmoor, was blocked. Mr. Francis, C. E., manager to the Devonport Waterworks Company, set out for Princetown to inspect the place, and as speedily as possible gangs of men were put on to work on the different parts of the leat. Some serious difficulties were encountered, most of the snow being frozen quite hard, and forming barriers fifteen feet deep, while in one spot, near Lowery Lane, a tree, fourteen feet in girth, had, fallen right across the leat. This tree was removed by means of lifting jacks, after having been cut in two. After many trials of patience, extending over several days, the toilers were rewarded with well-deserved success, and the water once more flowed freely. This was a fortunate result, for, besides the inhabitants of Devonport and Stonehouse, the regiments in garrison, the Naval Barracks, the Engineer Students, and the Royal Marine Barracks, are dependent on the Devonport Water Company for their supply of water.

CHAPTER VIII.
SOME STRANGE EXPERIENCES.

For many years to come residents of the western counties will have tales to relate of marvellous incidents, involving both great and small consequences, that occurred in connection with this memorable blizzard. The remarkable tenacity of life exhibited by birds and animals had been probably wholly unsuspected, until this recent sudden storm supplied the opportunity for its discovery. We have already heard of lambs born under the snow; of geese hatching their young within a day or two of release from days under a heavy snow coverlid, which not only covered but enwrapped them; and of horses being dug out alive and well after a night's chilly burial.

An experience of this kind, as curious as any, was that of Mr. J. Trant, of Redlap, Stoke Fleming, who dug a lamb out of a snow-drift, where it had lain buried for sixteen days. To quote the words of our informant, "the little creature seemed none the worse for its long imprisonment, but began to graze as soon as it was released. I have just seen it, and it was busy making up for lost time." Mr. Trevethan, of Beer Barton Farm, Beerferris, also met with some instances of this kind. After he had succeeded in releasing his lambs, of which he had missed a large number, he found them generally weak, and rather drowsy, but they at once bleated for their mothers, and their call being answered, they trotted off in the direction from which the call came. A bottle of gin was kept on hand for the resuscitation of the recovered creatures, and its efficacy in imparting the needed warmth is highly spoken of.

Mr. Trevethan's shepherd was making for his cottage on Monday evening, carrying with him a basket of provisions which he had been into the village to purchase. In attempting to get over a gate, within a short distance of some outhouses that stood between him and his cottage, he was separated from his basket by a violent gust of wind. Picking himself up, he reached his home in safety, and his basket was found, after a few days, empty. In the course of the following week, while clearing up his garden, he discovered, under some feet of snow, a package of tea, which had formed part of the Monday's stock of provisions, lost from the basket. The package, which was unbroken, and in good condition, had evidently preceded him to his home more than a week before.

"Mrs. Hatherley, living near Bickleigh, missed a hen, which she naturally gave up as lost. After a lapse of ten days, a cackling was heard to proceed from under a heap of snow. On going to the place, Mrs. Hatherley was surprised to find the long-lost hen force an exit through the snow, and, flapping its wings, make its way home to the house with all speed. Mrs. Hatherley then examined the spot, and found on the ground two eggs which the bird had laid whilst held prisoner by the snow."

Mr. George Sara, of Plymouth, traveller for Messrs. Cadbury Bros., was enabled during the Monday night of the storm to administer comfort to his fellow-travellers. The train by which he was travelling on the Great Western line from Penzance to Plymouth became snowed up at St. German's. Mr. Sara, happening to have his samples with him, and hot water being available, was able to dispense cups of chocolate to his companions. Some Easter eggs, made of chocolate, are described by the narrator of the story as forming an excellent ingredient for a beverage of this kind. Approval of the samples of Messrs. Cadbury Bros.' wares was expressed by all the belated travellers who had the good fortune to taste them.

Snow effects resulting from this storm were remarkable in many places, but perhaps none could be found more striking than the illustration we give of the result of leaving open, a few inches, a lattice window, facing north, at Walreddon Manor, near Tavistock, on the night of Monday, March 9th. The illustration is from a photograph kindly supplied by Henry D. Nicholson, Esq.

At the Land's End the gale was very severe, and the snowed-up passengers on the omnibus from Penzance to St. Just on Monday night had a dreadful time. They left Penzance about six o'clock, and should have reached St. Just by half-past seven, but it was nine o'clock before the 'bus reached the point where it had to remain, some three miles from St. Just. The horses failed to proceed, and the driver, a young man about 20, was also very much exhausted. He unhitched the horses, and proceeded to a farmhouse near and asked for shelter. This was refused him, the people of the house saying that there was no room for the horses, as all their cattle were in the house. He begged for admittance, and offered to stand by the horses all night, but he was again refused. Not knowing what else to do, he took the harness off the horses, turned their heads towards St. Just, and told them to go home. The horses went off in the darkness, and he saw them no more. They did not reach home, but were recovered alive next day. The driver returned to his passengers in the omnibus, and remained with them until midday on Tuesday.

Mr. William Penrose, of Bojewan, St. Just, had also a terrible experience on Monday night. He arrived at Penzance by the half-past six down-train, intending to catch the omnibus, but, finding it gone, he walked after it. Not catching it, he struggled on through the storm for several hours. Some time in the night he found himself near a farmhouse. The people of the house had gone to bed, and there was no light, but he knocked vigorously at the door, succeeded in awaking the inmates, and asked to be admitted, as he was well nigh exhausted. The farmer, however, refused to admit him, and, after a long rest under the shelter of the house, he battled again with the storm, determined to make another effort for life. He finally reached the snowed-up omnibus at six in the morning more dead than alive, having been exposed to the storm for twelve hours. Instances of inhospitality such as these were rare during the blizzard, and they are worth recording on that account.

Mr. Theo H. Willcocks relates as follows:—

"On the memorable Monday night, the storm raging furiously and showing no signs of abating, I left the Molesworth Arms, Wadebridge, at about eight o'clock, after being persuaded to do otherwise by the worthy proprietor, Mr. S. Pollard, and numerous other friends, and made tracks for Tregorden, some two miles distant. The town itself was desolate in the extreme, the streets being absolutely deserted except by a passing chimney-pot or tile.

"The wind howled and whistled as I wended my way over the bridge, hurling the flakes in my face with almost blinding force, but at the far end I found myself greatly sheltered, and made fairly good progress over the hill until I reached Ball, where I encountered the full force of the gale. It must have taken me at least ten minutes making 100 yards, at the end of which I was thoroughly exhausted, but managed to reach the cottage occupied by Eliza Burton, which I entered; after furiously rapping the door to wake the inmates, who had retired for the night. Here I received the kindest attention, also severe ridicule from 'Dick,' a person of no mean size, and the man of the house, for being obliged to seek help. He immediately volunteered to accompany me, so after lighting a lantern, and getting tied up securely, as we thought, from the tempest we closed the door behind us.

"By this time the snow in the highway was several inches in depth, and the storm raged with greater fury than ever. On turning down Tregorden Lane, this road, though running nearly at right angles to the wind, was being rapidly filled, for the blizzard came rushing across a twelve-acre field, with nothing to impede its course, and, gathering the snow up in clouds, whirled it along until it reached this sheltered lane, where it came over the hedge and through the bushes in streams of sleet, and it was as though we were inhaling icicles, for when we turned our backs it was just the same. It pierced our clothes, freezing as it did so, and our hair and necks became saturated with the driving snow which formed into a mass of ice. The lane was rapidly becoming impassable, the snow being now even up to our waists. In this state we plodded along for a short distance, I being determined that this time 'Dick' should be the first to be beaten, and I had not long to wait, for he gasped out 'Let's turn back, I am done;' so round we turned and struggled back to the cottage more dead than alive, having been out for some twenty-five minutes. Eliza, prophesying our return, had by this time got up a roaring fire, and at once forced some hot brandy down our throats, after which we changed our stiff clothes and made ourselves comfortable for the night before the fire, and I enjoyed a cup of tea as I did not know how to before." On the following day the narrator was able to proceed to Tregorden.

Among other peculiar and beautiful forms taken by the blizzard snow, and seen with great effect during the sunshine of the Wednesday after the storm, were the huge, shell-shaped hollows scooped out by the wind from the snow-drifts. An examination of many of our illustrations will reveal examples of this very unusual feature. In the accompanying scene, which is a view of a drift in the Liskeard cricket field, the peculiarity is very marked, the hollow being apparently sufficiently deep to cause the surface of the drift to overhang for some two or three feet.

Brief reference has already been made in another chapter to the gallant exploits of Mr. Harold S. Williams, of Torridge, near Plympton. On Tuesday afternoon, at about five o'clock, he left his home and proceeded in the direction of the Great Western Railway line. Making his way in the storm, he found No. 160 engine standing in a deep drift which had formed on the bridge crossing the lane leading from the George Hotel. Alone on the engine was the driver, Coleman, in imminent danger of being frozen to death. Getting back as fast as possible to Torridge, Mr. Williams procured stimulants. Returning to the driver, he found him almost in a state of collapse. All he could say was, "I'm dying, I'm dying." Mr. Williams, who showed great pluck and presence of mind, got him off the engine, and conducted him towards Torridge, nearing which a portion of a relief party was met, and they carried the driver into the house. By that time he had become unconscious, but restoratives having been administered, and Coleman's limbs vigorously rubbed, he in about an hour was restored to partial consciousness. He remained the guest of Mr. Williams all night, and next day had sufficiently recovered to be removed to his home.

Not long after Coleman had been received into Torridge, news was brought that another driver, rather further up the line, was dying. Mr. Williams, who is only nineteen years of age, again started on an errand of mercy and rescue. This time he was accompanied by Mr. Thornton, his tutor, and some of the relief party, who had helped to carry Coleman into his hospitable home. About 150 yards beyond Coleman's engine the party came across another engine completely buried in the snow, even to the funnel. Lying near to it was its driver, who had evidently crawled off the footplate in the hope of reaching shelter from the bitter snowstorm. At once he was carried to Torridge, apparently dead, and was laid on a mattress before a large fire.

An attempt to administer restoratives failed, so tightly was the man's teeth clenched. All that could be done was to promote circulation by the warmth of fire and friction. Rubbing the limbs and body was persevered in, and at length the man gave a groan. That, however, was the only sign of life he gave for three hours, during which time the rubbing was persevered in by relays of helpers. Two hours afterwards—that is five hours after he had been brought in—he was sufficiently recovered to speak, but it was some time after that before it could be said that he was out of danger. When he first recovered speech he was found to be delirious, and he continued in a state of delirium, more or less, the whole of the night.

When Mr. C. C. Compton, the divisional superintendent, called at Torridge early next morning, to ascertain how the driver was, it was reported that he was making favourable recovery, but that it would not be possible to remove him for some days. The man suffered much in his legs and feet, which are believed to be considerably frostbitten. His hands appeared to be all right. He remained some time at Torridge, and was most carefully tended. Eventually he and the driver first rescued recovered.

A plucky journey was undertaken on the Wednesday after the storm by Captain Cowie, R.E., with a view to ascertaining the damage done between Totnes and Plympton to the postal telegraph wires, and being unable to proceed on the journey by rail in consequence of the blocks en route, he set out from the former place with a determination to cover the distance on foot. He was the first to attempt the venturesome task, and the consciousness of the difficulties that would have to be encountered did not appear to trouble him. Proceeding as fast as circumstances would permit, he eventually accomplished the journey of nineteen miles, meeting with hardly a solitary individual the whole of the way.

It is almost needless to say that his experiences were of a most trying and perilous character. The road being impassable at many points he mounted the hedges, and occasionally losing his footing he fell into snowdrifts many feet high, being completely buried. He succeeded in releasing himself from his dangerous predicament, but on each of the occasions he met with this misfortune there was absolutely no assistance at hand even should it have been required. He ultimately reached Kingsbridge Road, and notwithstanding the adventures which he had already experienced, he decided to continue the journey to Plympton.

Having regaled himself with a little milk and some light refreshment, he started off again, and the remainder of the journey was no less perilous than the portion already accomplished had been. He had to wade through accumulations of snow almost as high as himself, and was frequently compelled to crawl along on his hands and knees. He eventually reached Plympton, saturated with water and sore from the difficult and dangerous ordeal he had passed through, and here left instructions for some men to follow him, finding, however, that the wires en route had suffered very little damage.