Club". In gratitude to member James Hughes, with whom he was staying with in Montreal, Dalhousie gave him a silver snuff box with gold trim, bearing the inscription: "The Earl of Dalhousie to James Hughes, Esq., in remembrance of the Beaver Club, May 24, 1824". The dinners commenced at 4:00 in the afternoon. Members arrived richly adorned in ruffles and a profusion of gold lace with knee-breeches above their gold-clasped garters and silver-buckled shoes. But, most importantly they wore the club's large gold medal with the inscription "Fortitude in Distress", that hung from a light blue ribbon around their necks. The start of the festivities were marked by the passing around of a calumet, followed by a speech or 'harangue' made by the evening's president. Toasts were then made, and there were always five to: The Mother of all Saints; the King; the fur trade in all its branches; voyageurs, wives and children; and absent members. Then, accompanied by Highland Pipers, on a dais of red velvet a flaming boar's head was brought into the dining room, a piece of camphor having been placed in its mouth before the grand entrance. The members and their guests were then permitted to pursue their own pleasures. Seated around a great mahogany table, servants plied the members in regular relays with luxuries from the east and the west, and costly delicacies from across the sea. The menu included country food such as Pemmican (brought from Saskatchewan), braised venison, bread sauce, "Chevreuil des Guides" (a stew), venison sausages, wild rice, quail and partridge "du Vieux Trappeur"; fish from the Great Lakes, pickled turnips, "Sweet Peace" applesauce, Atholl Brose, bear meat, buffalo tongue and bag pudding (which might have been Figgy duff). This country food was served among the unfamiliar atmosphere of mahogany, crystal glass, crested silverware and soft candle glow. John Bigsby was told, that "on certain great occasions the last plate put on the table before each member held a cheque for a sum of money". After dinner, any previous formalities were laid aside as the men started to sing old voyageur songs and exchange tales about their perilous adventures in the old fur trading days. The festivities often ran into the early hours of the morning with the members dancing on the tables, re-enacting various canoeing adventures and breaking numerous bottles, plates, glasses and chairs in the process. There were many stories