Canada and the Canadians
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Sir Richard Henry Bonnycastle >> Canada and the Canadians
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The herring, as far as I can learn, ascends the St. Lawrence no higher
than the Niagara River, but Ontario abounds with them and with salmon; a
smaller species of white fish also has of late years spread itself over
that lake, and is now sold plentifully in the Kingston market, where it
was never seen only seven years ago. It is a beautiful fish, firm and
well tasted, but rather too fat.
A farmer on the Penetanguishene road has introduced English breeds of
cattle and sheep of the best kind. He was, and perhaps still is,
contractor for the troops, and his stock is well worth seeing; he lives
a few miles from Barrie. Thus the garrison is constantly supplied with
finer meat than any other station in Canada, although more out of the
world and in the wilderness than any other; and, as fish is plentiful,
the soldiers and sailors of Queen Victoria in the Bay of the White
Rolling Sand live well.
I was agreeably surprised to find at this remote post that only one
soldier drank anything stronger than beer or water; and of course very
little of the former, owing to the expense of transport, was to be had.
The soldier that did drink spirits did not drink to excess.
How did all this happen in a place where drunkenness had been
proverbial? The soldiers, who were of the 82nd regiment, had been
selected for the station as married men. Their young commanding officer
patronized gardening, cricketing, boating, and every manly amusement,
but permitted no gambling. He formed a school for the soldiers and their
families, and, in short, he knew how to manage them, and to keep their
minds engaged; for they worked and played, read and reasoned; and so
whiskey, which is as cheap as dirt there, was not a temptation which
they could not resist. In winter, he had sleighing, snowshoeing, and
every exercise compatible with the severe weather and the very deep snow
incident to the station.
I feel persuaded that, now government has provided such handsome
garrison libraries of choice and well selected books for the soldiers,
if a ball alley, or racket court, and a cricket ground were attached to
every large barrack, there would not only be less drinking in the army,
but that vice would ultimately be scorned, as it has been within the
last twenty years by the officers. A hard-drinking officer will scarcely
be tolerated in a regiment now, simply because excessive drinking is a
low, mean vice, being the indulgence of self for unworthy motives, and
beneath the character of a gentleman. To be brought to a court-martial
for drunkenness is now as disgraceful and injurious to the reputation of
an officer as it was to be tried for cowardice, and therefore seldom
occurs in the British army.
The vice of Canada is, however, drink; and Temperance Societies will not
mend it. Their good is very equivocal, unless combined with religion, as
there is only one Father Matthew in the world, nor is it probable that
there will be another.
Penetanguishene is at present the _ultima Thule_ of the British military
posts in North America. It borders on the great wilderness of the North,
and on that backbone of primary rocks running from the Alleghanies,
across the thousand islands of the St. Lawrence, to the unknown
interior of the northern verge of Lake Superior.
Penetanguishene will not, however, be long the _ultima Thule_ of British
military posts in Western Canada, as a large and most important
settlement is making at Owen's Sound, on Lake Huron, connected by a long
road through the wilderness with Saugeen river, another settlement on
the shores of that lake, to prevent the necessity of the difficult
water-passage round Cabot's Head; and a steamboat has been put on the
route by the Canada Company, to connect Saugeen with Goderich.
The government, up to the 31st of December, 1845, had sold or granted
54,056 acres of land at Owen's Sound, of which 1,168 acres had been
chopped or cleared of the forest last year alone; and 1,787 acres of
wheat and 1,414 acres of oats had been harvested in 1845. There were 483
oxen, 596 cows, 433 young cattle, and 26 horses; and the population was
1,950, of which 759 were males above sixteen, and 399 males under
sixteen, with 395 females above, and 399 under, the same age.
In this new colony there were 1,005 Presbyterians, 195 Roman Catholics,
173 Methodists, 167 of the Church of England, 67 Baptists, 8 Quakers.
The other sects or divisions were not enumerated with sufficient
accuracy to detail; and Owen's Sound, being as yet buried in the Bush,
cannot be visited by casual travellers, unless when an occasional
steamer plies from Penetanguishene. There is yet no post-office; but
1,500 newspapers and letters were received or sent in 1845; and two
flour-mills and two saw-mills are erected and in use. Three schooners of
a small class ply in summer to Penetanguishene. The village is at the
head of Owen's Sound, fifteen miles from Cape Croker, and is named
Sydenham, containing already thirty-six houses. Government gives 50
acres free, on condition of actual settlement, and that one third is
cleared and cropped in four years, when a deed is obtained: another
fifty is granted by paying 8s. an acre within three years, 9s. within
six years, 10s. an acre within nine years. The soil is good and climate
healthy.
North-north-west and north-east of Penetanguishene, all is wood, rock,
lake, river, and desert, in which, towards the French river, the
Nipissang Indian, the most degraded and helpless of the Red Men,
wanders, and obtains scanty food, for game is rare, although fish is
more plentiful.
An exploring expedition into this country was sent by Sir John Colborne,
in 1835, with a view of ascertaining its capabilities for settlement. An
officer of engineers, Captain Baddely, was the astronomer and geologist;
a naval officer the pilot; with surveyors and a hardy suite.
They left Lake Simcoe in the township of Rama from the Severn river,
and, going a short journey eastward, struck the division line of the
Home and the Newcastle districts, which commences between the townships
of Whitby and Darlington, on the shore of Lake Ontario, and runs a
little to the westward of north in a straight course, until it strikes
the south-east borders of Lake Nipissang, embracing more than two
degrees of latitude, not one half of which has ever been fully explored.
The plan adopted was to cut out this line, and diverge occasionally from
it to the right and left, until a great extent of unknown land on the
east, and the distance between it and Lake Huron, which contained a
large portion of the Chippewa Indian hunting-grounds, was thoroughly
surveyed.
In performing so very arduous a task, much privation and many obstacles
occurred--forests, swamps, rivers, lakes, rocky ridges--all had to be
passed.
To the eastward of the main line, and for some distance to the westward,
good land appeared; and, as the agricultural probe was freely used,
chance was not permitted to sway. The agricultural probe is an
instrument which I first saw slung over my friend Baddely's shoulders,
and of his invention. It is a sort of huge screw gimblet, or auger,
which readily penetrates the ground by being worked with a long
cross-handle, and brings up the subsoil in a groove to a considerable
depth. Specimens of the soil and of rocks and minerals were collected,
and a plan was adopted which is a useful lesson to future explorers. A
small piece of linen or cotton, about four inches square, had two pieces
of twine sewed on opposite corners, and the cloth was marked in
printers' ink, from stamps, with figures from 1 to 500. A knapsack was
provided, and the specimens were reduced to a size small enough to be
carefully tied up in one of these numbered square cloths; and, as the
specimens were collected, they were entered in the journal as to number
and locality, strata, dip, and appearance. Thus a vast number of small
specimens could be brought on a man's back, and examined at leisure.
The toils, however, of such a journey in the vast and untrodden
wilderness are very severe, and the privations greater. For, in this
tract, on the side next to Lake Huron, there was an absence of game
which scarcely ever occurs in the forest near the great lakes. With ice
forming and snow commencing, and with every prospect of being frozen in,
a portion of the explorers missed their supplies, and subsisted for
three whole days and nights on almost nothing; a putrid deer's liver,
hanging on a bush near a recent Indian trail, was all the animal food
they had found; but this even hunger could scarcely tempt them to cook.
I was exploring in a more civilized country near them; but even there
our Indian guide was at fault, and, from want of proper precaution, our
provision failed. A small fish amongst four or five persons was one
day's luxury.
The Nipissang Indians, a very degraded and wretched tribe, live in this
desolate region, and, it is said, have sometimes been so reduced for
want of game as to resort to cannibalism. We heard that they had
recently been obliged to resort to this practice. I was directed, with
my friends, to conciliate these people, and to assure them that the
British government, so far from intending to injure them by an
examination of their country, desired only to ameliorate their sad
condition.[3]
[Footnote 3: Some time afterwards, during the period in which Lord
Glenelg held the Colonial Office, I was appointed to report upon the
state and condition of the Indians of Canada, by his lordship, without
my knowledge or solicitation; this was never communicated to me by the
then Lieut.-Governor of Upper Canada, and I only knew of it last year,
by accidentally reading a report on the subject made by order of the
House of Assembly, after I left Canada. I do not know if his lordship
will ever read this work, or the gentleman to whom I believe I was
indebted for the intended kindness; and, if either should, I beg to
tender my thanks thus publicly.]
We had a council. The astronomer royal, who was also the geologist, was
a fine, portly fellow, whose bodily proportions would make three such
carcases as that which I rejoice in. The nation sat in council and the
Talk was held. Grim old savages, filthy and forbidding, half-starved
warriors, hideous to the eye, sat in large circle, with the two great
Red Fathers, as they called my friend and myself, on account of our
scarlet jackets. The pipe passed from hand to hand and from mouth to
mouth, and many a solemn whiff ascended in curling clouds: all was
solemn and sad.
The speech was made and answered with an acuteness which we were not
prepared for. But our explanation and mission were at length received,
and the pledge of peace, the wampum-belts, were accepted and worn by the
aged chiefs. My friend jogged my elbow once or twice, and thought they
were eyeing him suspiciously, for he was to proceed into their country.
He looked so fat and so healthy, that he thought their greasy mouths
watered for a roasted slice of so fine a subject!
But the wampum pledge is never broken, and we had smoked the calumet of
friendship. Thus, although he luxuriated, after a total abstinence of
three days, on the sight of a decayed deer's liver, which he could not
be prevailed upon to partake of, yet the Nipissang, starving as he must
also have been, never fried my friend, nor feasted on his fatness.
This is not the only good story to be told of Penetanguishene; for the
American press of the frontier, with its accustomed adherence to truth,
discovered a mare's nest there lately, and stated that the British
government kept enormous supplies of naval stores, several
steam-vessels, a depot of coal, and everything necessary for the
equipment of a large war fleet on Lake Huron, at this little outpost of
the West, and that a tremendous force of mounted cavaliers were always
ready to embark on board of it at all times.
There are now certainly a good many horses at the village, whereas, in
1837, perhaps one might have found out a dozen by great research there:
as for cavalry, unless Brother Jonathan can manufacture it as cheaply
and as lucratively as he does wooden clocks or nutmegs, it would be
somewhat difficult to _raise_ it at Penetanguishene.
The village is a small, rambling place, with a little Roman Catholic
church and a storehouse or general shop or two, about which, in summer,
you always see idle Indians playing at some game or other, or else
smoking with as idle villagers.
The garrison is three miles from the village, and is always called "The
Establishment;" and in the forest between the two places is a new
church, built of wood, very small, but sufficient for the Established
Church, as it is sometimes called, of that portion of Canada. A
clergyman is constantly stationed here for the army, navy, and
civilians, and near the church is a collection of log huts, which I
placed there some years ago by order of Lord Seaton, with small plots of
ground attached to each as a refuge for destitute soldiers who had
commuted their pensions.
This Chelsea in miniature flourished for a time, and drained the streets
of the large towns of Canada of the miserable objects; but, such was the
improvidence of most of these settlers and such their broken
constitutions, that, on my present visit, I found but one old serjeant
left, and he was on the point of moving.
The commutation of pensions was an experiment of the most benevolent
intention. It was thought that the married pensioner would purchase
stock for a small farm, and set himself down to provide for his children
with a sum of money in hand which he could never have obtained in any
other way. Many did so, and are now independent; but the majority,
helpless in their habits, and giving way to drink, soon got cheated of
their dollars and became beggars; so that the government was actually
obliged at length to restore a small portion of the pension to keep them
from starvation. They died out, would not work at the Penetanguishene
settlement, and have vanished from the things that be. Poor fellows!
many a tale have they told me of flood and field, of being sabred by the
cuirassiers at Waterloo, of being impaled on a Polish lance, and of
their wanderings and sufferings.
The military settlement, however, of the Penetanguishene road is a
different affair. It was effected by pensioned non-commissioned officers
and soldiers, who had grants of a hundred acres and sometimes more; and
it will please the benevolent founder, should these pages meet his eye,
to know that many of them are now prosperous, and almost all well to do
in the world.
But we must retrace our steps, and waggon back again by their doors to
Barrie.
I left the village at half-past six in the morning, raining still, with
the wind in the south-east, and very cold. We arrived at the Widow
Marlow's, nineteen miles, at mid-day; the weather having changed to fine
and blowing hard--certainly not pleasant in the forest-road, on account
of the danger of falling trees, to which this pass is so liable that a
party of axemen have sometimes to go ahead to cut out a way for the
horses.
We passed through the twelve mile woods by a new road, which reduces the
extent of actual forest to five, and avoids altogether the Trees of the
Two Brothers, noted in Penetanguishene history for the fatal accident,
narrated in a former volume, by which one soldier died, and his brother
was, it is supposed, frightened to death, in the solemn depths of the
primeval and then endless woods.
Near the end of the five mile Bush, about a mile from the first
clearance, Jeffrey, the landlord of the inn at the village, has built a
small cottage for the refreshment of the traveller, and in it he intends
to place his son. In the mean time, until quite completed, for money is
scarce and things not to be done at railroad pace so near the North
Pole, he has located here an old well known black gentleman, called Mr.
Davenport, who was once better to do in the world, and kept a tavern
himself.
Having had the honour of his acquaintance for many years, I stopped to
see how my old friend was getting on, particularly as I heard that he
was now very old, and that his white consort had left him alone in the
narrow world of the house in the woods. He received me with grinning
delight, and told me that he had just left the new jail at Barrie for
selling liquor without a license, which, I opine, is rather hard law
against a poor old nigger, who had literally no other means of support,
and was most usefully stationed, like the monks of St. Bernard, in a
dangerous pass.
But the wind is tempered to the shorn lamb, and the woolly head of old
Davenport had matter of satisfaction in it from a source that he never
dreamed of.
Alone--far away from the whole human world, in the depth of a hideous
forest, with a road nearly impassable one half of the year,--he found an
unexpected friend.
For fear of the visits of two-footed and four-footed brutes during the
long nights of his Robinson Crusoe solitude, old Davenport always shut
up his log castle early, and retired to rest as soon as daylight
departed; for it did so very early in the evening there, as the solemn
pines, with their gray trunks and far-spreading moss-grown arms and
dismal evergreen foliage, if it can be called foliage, stood close to
his dwelling--nay, brushed with the breath of the wind his very roof.
Recollect, reader, that this lonely dweller in the Bush resided near the
spot where the two soldier brothers perished; and you may imagine his
thoughts, after his castle was closed at night by the lone warder. No
one could come to his assistance, if he had the bugle that roused the
echoes of Fontarabia.
He had retired to rest early one night in the young spring-time, when he
heard a singular noise on the outside of his house, like somebody
moaning, and rubbing forcibly under his window, which was close to the
head of his pallet-bed. Quivering with fear, he lay, with these sounds
continuing at short intervals, through the whole night, and did not rise
until the sun was well up. He then peeped cautiously about, but neither
heard nor saw any thing; and, axe in hand and gun loaded, he went forth,
but could not perceive aught more than that the ground had been slightly
disturbed. This went on for some time, until at last, one fine moonlight
night, the old man ventured to open a part of his narrow window; and
there he saw rubbing himself, very composedly, a fine large he bear, who
looked up very affectionately at him, and whined in a decent melancholy
growl.
Davenport had, it seems, thrown some useless article of food out of this
window; and Bruin supposed, no doubt, that Blackey did it out of
compassionate feeling for a fellow denizen of the forest, and repeated
his visits to obtain something more substantial, rubbing himself, to get
rid of the mosquitoes, as it was his custom of an afternoon, against the
rough logs of the dwelling. He had, moreover, become a little impatient
at not being noticed, and scratched like a dog to make the lord of the
mansion aware of his presence. This usually occurred about nine o'clock.
Davenport, at last, threw some salt pork to Bruin, which was most
gratefully received; and every night after that, for the whole summer
and autumn, at nine o'clock or thereabouts, the bear came to receive
bread, meat, milk, or potatoes, or whatever could be spared from the
larder, which was left on the ground under the window for him. In fact,
they soon came to be upon very friendly terms, and spent many hours in
each other's company, with a stout log-wall between Davenport and his
brother, as he always calls the bear.
When the snows of winter, the long, severe winter of these northern
woods, at last came, Bruin ceased his nocturnal visitations, and has
never been seen since, the old man thinking that he has been shot or
trapped by the Indian hunters.
I asked Davenport if he ever ventured out to look for his brother, but
he shook his head and replied, "My brudder might have hugged me too
hard, perhaps." The poor old fellow is very cheerful, and regrets his
brother's absence daily. The bailiffs most likely would not have put him
in jail for selling whiskey to a tired traveller, but would have avoided
the castle in the woods, if they thought there was any chance of meeting
Bruin.
CHAPTER VI.
Barrie and Big Trees--A new Capital of a new District--Nature's
Canal--The Devil's Elbow--Macadamization and Mud--Richmond Hill
without the Lass--The Rebellion and the Radicals--Blue Hill and
Bricks.
We reached Barrie safely that night, and slept at the Queen's Arms. Next
morning, I had an excellent opportunity of seeing this thriving village.
It is very well situated on the shore of Kempenfeldt Bay, on ground
rising gradually to a considerable height, and is neatly laid out,
containing already about five hundred people.
On the high ground overlooking the place are a church, a court-house,
and a jail, all standing at a small distance from each other, nearly on
a line, and adding very much indeed to the appearance of the place. The
deep woods now form a background, but are gradually disappearing. I went
about a mile into them, and saw several new clearances, with some nice
houses building or built; and particularly one by Bingham, our landlord,
a very comfortable, English-looking, large cottage, with outhouses and
an immense barn, round which the rascally ground squirrels were playing
at hide-and-seek very fearlessly.
The Court House contains the district school, which appears very
respectable, and is conducted by a young Irishman; it also contains all
the district offices, and is two stories high, massively and well built,
the lower story being of stone and the upper of brick, both from
materials on the spot.
The church is of wood, plain and neat. The jail is worth a visit, and
shows what may be done in the forest and in a brand-new district, as the
district of Simcoe is, although I believe about half the money it cost
would have been better employed on the roads; for it has never been
used, except as a place of confinement for an unfortunate lunatic.
It is formed in the castellated style, of a handsome octagonal tower, of
very white, shelly limestone, with a square turreted stone enclosure, on
the top of which is an iron _chevaux de frize_, and which enclosure is
subdivided into separate day-yards for prisoners. The entrance is under
a Gothic archway; and in the centre of the tower is an internal space,
open from top to bottom, and preventing all access to the stairs from
the cells, which are very neat, clean, and commodious, with a good
supply of water, and excellent ventilation. It is, in short, as pretty a
toy penitentiary as you could see anywhere, and looks more like an Isle
of Wight gentleman's fortress, copied after the most approved Wyattville
pattern of baronial mansion, with a little touch of the card-house. In
short, it is as fine as you can conceive, and sets off the village
wonderfully well.
The red pine, near Barrie and through all the Penetanguishene country,
grows to an enormous size. I measured one near Barrie no less than
twenty-six feet in girth, and this was merely a chance one by the
path-side. Its height, I think, must have been at least two hundred
feet, and it was vigorously healthy. What was its age? It would have
made a plank eight feet broad, after the bark was stripped off.
But the woods generally disappoint travellers, as they never penetrate
them; and the lumberers have cut down all available pines and oaks
within reach of the settlements, excepting where they were not worth the
expence of transport. The pines, moreover, take no deep root; and, as
soon as the underbrush or thicket is cleared, they fall before the
storm. Provident settlers, therefore, rarely leave large and lofty trees
near their dwellings for fear of accident.
The pine, in the Penetanguishene country, has a strange fancy to start
out of the earth in three, five, or more trunks, all joined at the base,
and each trunk an enormous tree. I have an idea that this has arisen
from the stony, loose soil they grow in, which has caused this strange
freak of Nature, by making it difficult for the young plant to rear its
head out of the ground. Whatever is the reason, however, all the masts
of some "great Amiral" might be truly provided out of a single
pine-tree.
But we must leave Barrie, after just mentioning Kempenfeldt, about a
mile or so distant, which was the original village; and, although at the
actual terminus of the land road, has never flourished, and still
consists of some half dozen houses. The newer Admiral superseded the
more ancient one; for Barrie did deeds of renown, which it suited the
Canadians to commemorate much more than the unfortunate Kempenfeldt and
his melancholy end.
If ever there was an infamous road between two villages so close
together, it is the road between these two places; I hope it will be
mended, for it is both dark and dangerous.
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