140 OVER ON THE ISLAND

angel looked up in surprise, I disappeared into the underbrush.

On to Georgetown, the sleepy capital of the county. I have said that Victoria is a sleepy little village, strangely reminiscent of Sleepy Hollow. Georgetown is all of that, only more so. It would be cruel to say that the place has gone to seed. Rather, like Peter Pan, the place just never grew up. It did its best. It set out wide streets with regular intersections. It called itself the capital of the county, but its neighbour, Montague, somehow or other stole all its thunder.

It was the surveyor, Samuel Holland, who first saw the tremendous possibilities of the place. Others had noted and commented but had done nothing further. The town, he said, could easily be made secure from attack. It would also have the further advantage of inland communication by means of Cardigan, Brudenell, and Montague rivers. From the top of the latter to the source of Orwell River was less than ten miles. And since Orwell River emptied into Hills- borough Bay, there would thus be established, both in winter and in summer, a safe and short communication between two county towns. Undoubtedly, com- munication was an important consideration in those early days.

Something happened here in 1851. I came across a reference to “The Great Battle of Georgetown ” staged in 1851. What the great battle was about I have not been able to discover, and who fought in it I do not know. The details of this great battle seem to be lost in the dust of years. But once, I shall never forget, something really did happen here.

One of the Island’s first historians believed implicitly that if Georgetown had been made the capital of the