Twenty-Seven Years in Canada West;
or The Experience of an Early Settler
by MAJOR STRICKLAND, C.M
EDITED BY AGNES STRICKLAND,
Author of “The Queens of England,”, etc.
And when those toils rewarding,
Broad lands at length they’ll claim,
They’ll call the new possession,
By some familiar name.
Agnes Strickland.—_Historic Scenes_.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
Publisher in Ordinary to Her Majesty.
1853.
PREFACE.
No one can give an adequate view of the general life of a colonist,
unless he has been one himself. Unless he has experienced all the
various gradations of colonial existence, from that of the pioneer in
the backwoods and the inhabitant of a shanty, up to the epoch of his
career, when he becomes the owner, by his own exertions, of a
comfortable house and well-cleared farm, affording him the comforts and
many of the luxuries of civilization, he is hardly competent to write
on such a subject. I have myself passed through all these grades. I
have had the honour of filling many colonial appointments, such as
Commissioner of the Court of Requests, and Justice of the Peace. My
commission in her Majesty’s Militia, and my connection with the Canada
Company, have also afforded me some opportunities of acquiring
additional information. I was in the Company’s service during the early
settlement of Guelph and also of Goderich, in the Huron tract. I am,
therefore, as intimately acquainted with those flourishing settlements
as with the townships in my own county of Peterborough.
Upon my return to my native country in August, on a visit to my
venerable mother, I was advised by my family to give my colonial
experience to the world in a plain, practical manner. I followed the
flattering suggestions of relatives so distinguished for literary
attainments, and so dear to my affections, and “Twenty-seven Years in
Canada West; or, The Experience of an Early Settler,” is the result of
my compliance with their wishes.
The subject of colonization is, indeed, one of vital importance, and
demands much consideration, for it is the wholesome channel through
which the superfluous population of England and Ireland passes, from a
state of poverty to one of comfort. It is true that the independence of
the Canadian settler must be the fruit of his own labour, for none but
the industrious can hope to obtain that reward. In fact, idle and
indolent persons will not change their natures by going out to Canada.
Poverty and discontent will be the lot of the sluggard in the Bush, as
it was in his native land—nay, deeper poverty, for “he cannot work, to
beg he is ashamed,” and if he be surrounded by a family, those nearest
and dearest to him will share in his disappointment and regret.
But let the steady, the industrious, the cheerful man go forth in hope,
and turn his talents to account in a new country, whose resources are
not confined to tillage alone—where the engineer, the land-surveyor,
the navigator, the accountant, the lawyer, the medical practitioner,
the manufacturer, will each find a suitable field for the exercise of
his talents; where, too, the services of the clergyman are much
required, and the pastoral character is valued and appreciated as it
ought to be.
To the artizan, the hand-loom weaver, and the peasant, Canada is indeed
a true land of Goshen. In fact, the stream of migration cannot flow too
freely in that direction. However numerous the emigrants may be,
employment can be obtained for all.
That the industrial classes do become the richest men cannot be denied,
because their artificial wants are fewer, and their labours greater
than those of the higher ranks. However, the man of education and
refinement will always keep the balance steady, and will hold offices
in the Colony and responsible situations which his richer but less
learned neighbour can never fill with ease or propriety.
The Canadian settler possesses vast social advantages over other
colonists. He has no convict neighbours—no cruel savages, now, to
contend with—no war—no arid soil wherewith to contend. The land is,
generally speaking, of a rich quality, and the colonist has fire-wood
for the labour of cutting, fish for the catching, game for the pleasant
exercise of hunting and shooting in Nature’s own preserves, without the
expense of a licence, or the annoyance of being warned off by a surly
gamekeeper.
The climate of Canada West is healthier and really pleasanter than that
of England or Ireland. The cold is bracing, and easily mitigated by
good fires and warm clothing; but it is not so really chilling as the
damp atmosphere of the mother-country. Those who have not visited the
Canadas are apt to endow the Upper Province with the severe climate of
the Lower one, whereas that of Western Canada is neither so extremely
hot nor so cold as many districts of the United States.
Emigration to Canada is no longer attended with the difficulties and
disadvantages experienced by the early settlers, of which such
lamentable, and perhaps exaggerated accounts have frequently issued
from the press. The civilizing efforts of the Canada Company have
covered much of the wild forest-land with smiling corn-fields and
populous villages. Indeed, the liberal manner in which the Company have
offered their lands on sale or lease, have greatly conduced to the
prosperity of the Western Province.
If the facts and suggestions contained in the following pages should
prove useful and beneficial to the emigrant, by smoothing his rough
path to comfort and independence, my object will be attained, and my
first literary effort will not have been made in vain.
CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
CHAPTER I.
Embarkation for Canada.—Voyage out.—Sea-life.—Icebergs.—Passage up the
St. Lawrence.—Quebec.—Memorials of General
Wolfe.—Cathedral.—Hospitality.—Earthquakes.—Nuns.—Montreal.—Progress up
the Country.—My Roman Catholic Fellow-traveller.—Attempt at
Conversion.—The Township of Whitby.
CHAPTER II.
Arrival at Darlington.—Kind Reception.—My Friend’s Location.—His
Inexperience.—Damage to his Land by Fire.—Great Conflagration at
Miramichi.—Forest Fires.—Mighty Conflagration of the 6th of
October.—Affecting Story of a Lumber-foreman.—His Presence of Mind, and
wonderful Preservation.—The sad Fate of his Companions.
CHAPTER III.
Inexperience of my Friend.—Bad State of his Land—Fall
Wheat.—Fencing.—Grasses.—Invitation to a “Bee.”—United Labour.—Canadian
Sports.—Degeneracy of Bees.
CHAPTER IV.
My Marriage.—I become a Settler on my own Account—I purchase Land in
Otonabee.—Return to Darlington.—My first Attempt at driving a
Span.—Active Measures to remedy a Disaster.—Patience of my
Father-in-law.—My first Bear-hunt.—Beaver-meadows.—Canadian
Thunder-storms.—Fright of a Settler’s Family
CHAPTER V.
Canadian Harvest.—Preparing Timber for Frame-buildings.—Raising
“Bee.”—Beauty of the Canadian Autumn.—Visit to Otonabee.—Rough
Conveyance.—Disaccommodation.—Learned Landlord.—Cobourg.—Otonabee
River.—Church of Gore’s Landing.—Effects of persevering industry
CHAPTER VI.
Wood-duck Shooting.—Adventure on Rice Lake.—Irish Howl.—Arrival at
Gore’s Landing.—General Howling for the Defunct.—Dangers of our
Journey.—Safe Arrival at Cobourg.—Salmon-fishing.—Canoe-building after
a bad Fashion.—Salmon-spearing.—Canadian Fish and Fisheries.—Indian
Summer.—Sleighs and Sleighing.—Domestic Love
CHAPTER VII.
Employments of a Man of Education in the Colony.—Yankee Wedding.—My
Commission.—Winter in Canada.—Healthiness of the Canadian
Climate.—Search for Land.—Purchase Wild Land at Douro.—My Flitting.—Put
up a Shanty.—Inexperience in Clearing.—Plan-heaps
CHAPTER VIII.
A Logging-Bee.—Lime-burning.—Shingling.—Arrival of my
Brother-in-law.—Birth of my Son.—Sad Journey to Darlington.—Lose my
Way.—Am refused a Lift.—My boyish Anger.—My Wife’s Death.—The
Funeral.—I leave Darlington
CHAPTER IX.
Return to Otonabee.—Benevolence of my Neighbour.—Serious Accident to a
Settler.—His singular Misfortunes.—Particulars of his Life
CHAPTER X.
Preparations for my second Marriage.—Dangerous Adventure.—My Wife’s
nocturnal Visitor.—We prepare for the Reception of our uninvited
Guest.—Bruin’s unwelcome Visit to an Irish Shanty.—Our Bear-hunt.—Major
Elliott’s Duel with Bruin.—His Wounds and Victory
CHAPTER XI.
Canada the Poor Man’s Country.—Disadvantages of Inexperience.—Township
of Harvey Settlement.—Pauper Emigration.—Superior Advantages of the
Labourer Colonist.—Temperance and Temperance Societies.—A dry Answer to
watery Arguments.—British and Foreign Temperance Society
CHAPTER XII.
Want of Home-pasturage in Canada.—Danger of being lost in the
Woods.—Plain Directions to the Traveller in the Bush.—Story of a
Settler from Emily.—An old Woman’s Ramble in the Woods.—Adventure of a
Trapper.—Fortunate Meeting with his Partner
CHAPTER XIII.
Directions for ascertaining the Quality of Land in the Bush.—Site of
Log-shanty.—Chopping.—Preparation for Spring-crops.—Method of planting
Indian Corn.—Pumpkins and Potatoes.—Making Pot-ash
CHAPTER XIV.
My first Shot at a Buck.—Hunting and Shooting Parties.—Destructiveness
of Wolves.—Loss of my Flocks.—Cowardice of the Wolf.—The Lady and her
Pet.—Colonel Crawford’s Adventure.—Ingenious Trick of an American
Trapper.—A disagreeable Adventure.—How to poison Wolves.—A stern Chase
CHAPTER XV.
Formation of the Canada Company.—Interview with Mr. Galt.—His personal
Description and Character.—Guelph.—Dr. Dunlop.—My Medical Services at
Guelph.—Dr. Dunlop and the Paisley Bodies.—An eccentric Character.—An
unfortunate wife
CHAPTER XVI.
Porcupine-catching.—Handsome Behaviour of Mr.
Galt.—Owlingale.—Introduction to the Son of the celebrated Indian
Chief, Brandt.—Expedition to Wilmot.—Sham Wolves.—Night in a Barn with
Dr. Dunlop.—The Doctor and his Snuffbox.—His Bath in the Nith.—Louis
XVIII. and his Tabatiere.—Camp in the Woods.—Return to Guelph
CHAPTER XVII.
A new Way of keeping a Birthday.—Lost in the Woods.—Kindness of Mr.
Galt.—Advice to new Settlers.—Unexpected Retirement of Mr. Galt.—I
accompany him to the Landing-place.—Receive orders to leave Guelph for
Goderich.—Whirlwinds at Guelph and Douro
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Huron tract.—Journal of Dr. Dunlop.—His Hardships.—I leave Guelph
for Goderich.—Want of Accommodation.—Curious Supper.—Remarkable
Trees.—The Beverly Oak.—Noble Butter-wood Trees.—Goderich.—Fine Wheat
Crop.—Purchase a Log-house.—Construction of a Raft
CHAPTER XIX.
My new House at Goderich.—Carpentry an essential Art.—American
Energy.—Agreeable Visitors.—My Wife’s Disasters.—Hints for Anglers.—The
Nine-mile Creek Frolic.—The Tempest.—Our Skipper and his
Lemon-punch.—Short Commons.—Camp in the Woods.—Return on
Foot.—Ludicrous termination to our Frolic
CHAPTER XX.
Choice of a Location.—The Company’s Lands.—Crown Lands.—Tables
published by the Canada Company.—Progressive Improvement of the Huron
Tract
CHAPTER XXI.
The King proclaimed in the Bush.—Fete and Ball in the Evening.—My
Yankee Fellow-traveller.—Awful Storm.—My lonely Journey.—Magical Effect
of a Name
CHAPTER XXII.
Visit of the Passenger-pigeon to the Canadas.—Canadian
Blackbirds.—Breeding-places of the Passenger-pigeons.—Squirrels
CHAPTER XXIII.
The Rebel, Von Egmond, the first agricultural Settler on the
Huron.—Cutting the first Sheaf
TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS IN CANADA WEST.
CHAPTER I.
EMBARKATION FOR CANADA.—VOYAGE OUT.—SEA-LIFE.—ICEBERGS.—PASSAGE UP THE
ST. LAWRENCE.—QUEBEC.—MEMORIALS OF GENERAL
WOLFE.—CATHEDRAL.—HOSPITALITY.—EARTHQUAKES.—NUNS.—MONTREAL.—PROGRESS UP
THE COUNTRY.—MY ROMAN CATHOLIC FELLOW-TRAVELLER.—ATTEMPT AT
CONVERSION.—THE TOWNSHIP OF WHITBY.
A preference for an active, rather than a professional life, induced me
to accept the offer made by an old friend, of joining him at
Darlington, in Upper Canada, in the year 1825. I therefore took leave
of my family and pleasant home, in Suffolk, and engaged a passage in
the brig “William M’Gilevray,” commanded by William Stoddart, an
experienced American seaman.
On the 28th of March we left the London Docks, and dropped down the
river to Gravesend, and on the following day put our pilot ashore off
Deal, and reached down as far as the coast of Sussex, where we were
becalmed for two days. Here one of our cabin-boys, a German, met with a
very serious accident by falling down the after hatchway, and
fracturing several of his ribs. On this occasion I officiated as a
surgeon, and bled him twice, with excellent effect, for he quickly
recovered from the severe injury he had received. Before quitting
Suffolk I had learned the art of blood-letting from our own medical
attendant. Every person intending to settle in a distant colony ought
to acquire this simple branch of surgery: I have often exercised it
myself for the benefit of my fellow-creatures when no medical
assistance could be procured.
It blew so fresh for two or three days, that we made up for our lost
time, and were soon out of sight of Scilly: then I bade a long farewell
to old England. I had often been on the sea before, but this was my
first long voyage; every object, therefore, was new to me. I caught
some birds in the rigging they were of a species unknown to me, but
very beautiful. Being in want, too, of something to do, I amused myself
with cleaning the captain’s guns, which I hoped to use for our joint
benefit before the end of the voyage.
The 18th and 19th of April were very stormy: the sea ran mountains
high; we had a foot of water in the cabin, and all hands were at the
pumps to lessen the growing evil. The gale lasted till the following
morning. In the night the aurora borealis was particularly brilliant;
but though the storm lulled, the wind was against us. On the 26th of
April, I saw a whale, and, boy-like, fired at the huge creature: the
shot must have hit him, for he made the water fly in all directions.
To vary the monotony of a sea-life, I sometimes played draughts with
the mate, whom I always beat; but he took his defeats in good part,
being a very easy-tempered fellow.
I awoke on the 21st of April literally wet to my skin by the deluge of
water pouring down the cabin. I dressed myself in great haste and
hurried upon deck to learn the cause of this disaster, which I found
originated in the coming on of a terrible hurricane, which would not
permit us to show a stitch of canvas, and found us continual employment
at the pumps; my chest in the cabin shipped a sea which did not improve
the appearance of my wardrobe. The following day we had calmer weather,
and pursued our course steadily, no longer exposed to the fury of the
elements.
On the following day I killed several birds, and saw two whales and
many porpoises. The weather was foggy, but the wind favourable for us.
As we were near the bank of Newfoundland, we got our fishing tackle
ready, with the hope of mending our fare with cod; but the water was
not calm enough for the purpose, and the fish would not bite. We passed
over the Great Bank without any danger, though the wind was high and
the sea rough.
On the 29th of April we fell in with some icebergs. A more magnificent
and imposing spectacle cannot be conceived; but it is very fearful and
sufficiently appalling. Suddenly, we found ourselves close to an
immense body of ice, whose vicinity bad been concealed from us by the
denseness of the fog. Our dangerous neighbour towered in majestic
grandeur in the form of a triple cone rising from a square base, and
surpassed the tallest cathedral in altitude. The centre cone being
cleft in the middle by the force of the waves, displayed the phenomenon
of a waterfall, the water rushing into the sea from the height of
thirty feet. If the sun had pierced the vapoury veil which concealed it
from our view, the refraction of his rays would have given to the ice
the many-coloured tints of the rainbow. We took care to keep a good
look out; but the fog was thick. We fell in with many other icebergs;
but none so beautiful as this.
We doubled Cape Ray, and entered, on the 5th of May, the Gulf of St.
Lawrence. The thermometer fell many degrees a change caused by the
vicinity of the ice. On the 5th of May we passed the Bird Rocks, three
in number, to windward, so called from the immense number of geese and
aquatic birds which resort thither to rear their broods. These rocks
rise to the height of four hundred feet, perpendicularly from the sea.
The fishermen, nevertheless, contrive to climb them for the sake of the
eggs they find there.
The 6th of May found us in the river St. Lawrence, between the
westernmost point of Anticosti to the north, and Cape Gaspe to the
south, in the middle of the channel, surrounded by ships tacking up the
stream, bound for Quebec and Montreal. We had plenty of sea-room, as
the river was more than ninety miles in breadth, and it is supposed to
be full a hundred at its _embouchure_.
The land was partially covered with snow, which fell throughout the
day. On the 8th of May we sailed as far as the Seven Islands. The day
was glorious, and the prospect most beautiful. Our vicinity to “the
cold and pitiless Labrador,” rendered the air chilly, and we could hear
the howling of the wolves at night, to me a new and dismal sound. The
aurora borealis was particularly splendid, for the air was clear and
frosty.
On the 10th of May we stood for the Island of Bic, and took on board a
pilot. He was a handsome young man, a French-Canadian, under whose
guidance we made the place, but we were becalmed before it for the
whole forenoon.
The beauty of the scenery atoned, however, for the delay. Nothing,
indeed, could surpass it in my eyes, which had then only been
accustomed to the highly-cultivated and richly-wooded tracts in Suffolk
and Norfolk, and therefore dwelt with wonder and delight upon the
picturesque shores and lofty heights that crowned the noble St.
Lawrence.
The wind changing in our favour, carried us swiftly up the stream,
which was still thirty-six miles in breadth, though distant 280 miles
from the Gulf. We passed Green Island and the Kamouraska Island, and
Goose and Crane Islands. These beautiful islets, which stud the broad
bosom of the St. Lawrence, are evidently of volcanic origin. That of
Kamouraska displays vast masses of granite, which rise in the form of
conical hills, one of which attains the height of five hundred feet.
The same features are discernible in the Penguins, and even the strata
about Quebec still indicate the same mysterious agency.[1]
[1] “Encyclopædia of Geography,” p. 1304.
Our progress through the river continually presented the new continent
in an attractive point of view. The shores were dotted with farmhouses
and adorned with fine gardens and orchards, while lovely islands,
covered with lofty trees, rose from the river and delighted the eye. I
thought Canada then and I have never changed my opinion since the most
beautiful country in the world.
On the 13th of May we passed the Island of Orleans, which we no sooner
rounded than the Falls of Montmorenci burst upon my sight. I was
unprepared for the scene, which I contemplated in silent astonishment.
No words written down by the man, at this distance of time, can
describe the vivid feelings of the boy. I have since beheld the mighty
cataracts of Niagara, so finely described by its Indian name, “The
Thunder of Waters;” but I concur in the general opinion, that if those
of Niagara are more stupendous, the Falls of Montmorenci are more
beautiful and picturesque.
Quebec soon came in view, with its strong fortress crowning the
imposing height of Cape Diamond. No one can look upon the old capital
of Canada without remembering that the most gallant British soldier of
the age fell in the battle that added the colony to the other
dependencies of the English crown.
I remembered, too, with some pleasure, that the paternal dining-room
contained a looking-glass one of the fine old Venetian plates, framed
with ebony, which had once formed a part of the General’s personal
property. It had been for two centuries in his family, but had since
become a valued heirloom in mine. His manly features must often have
been reflected on its brilliant surface, and that circumstance, which
had formerly endeared it to his aged mother, had made it prized by
mine.
We have also a bureau, very complete, but evidently constructed more
for use than ornament, which might have once contained the papers of
this distinguished soldier, while the book-case, to which it was
annexed, had probably held his little library. His cruet-stand, which
looks as if it had been made in the patriarchal times, is still in use
at Reydon Hall.
The reader must pardon this digression, since distinguished worth and
valour give an interest even to trivial objects.
Quebec consists of two towns, the Upper and Lower, and is adorned with
a cathedral, whose metallic roof glitters in the sun like a vast
diamond. Indeed, the tin-roofs of the churches and public buildings
give this city a splendid look on a bright sunshiny day, testifying,
moreover, to the dryness of the air. Captain Stoddart took me all over
this curious city, and kindly introduced me to one of the partners of a
great mercantile house, who invited us both to dinner. We regaled
ourselves on smelts, fillet of veal, and old English roast beef, to
which hospitable meal we did ample justice, not forgetting to pledge
our absent friends in bumpers of excellent wine.
The inhabitants of Quebec are very kind to strangers, and are a fine
race of people. French is spoken here not, however, very purely, being
a _patois_ as old as the time of Henry IV. of France, when this part of
Canada was first colonized; but English is generally understood by the
mercantile classes.
This city is visited, at intervals, with slight shocks of
earthquake.[2] Nothing serious has yet followed this periodical
phenomenon. But will this visitation be only confined to the mountain
range north of Quebec, where the great earthquake that convulsed a
portion of the globe in 1663 has left visible marks of its influence,
by overturning the sand-stone rocks of a tract extending over three
hundred miles?[3] Quebec contains several nunneries, for the French
inhabitants are mostly Roman catholics. The nuns are very useful to
emigrants, who have often been bountifully relieved by these charitable
vestals, who employ themselves in nursing the sick and feeding the
hungry.
[2] Lyell’s “Elements of Geology.”
[3] “Encyclopædia of Geography.”
The inhabitants—or _habitans_, as the French Canadians are usually
termed—are an amiable, hospitable, simple people, kind in manner, and
generous in disposition. The women are lively and agreeable, and as
fond of dress in Quebec as in other civilized places. They are pretty
in early youth in the Lower Province, but lose their complexions sooner
than the English ladies, owing, perhaps, to the rigour of the
climate.[4] However, they possess charms superior to beauty, and seem
to retain the affections of their husbands to the last hour of their
lives.
[4] Mac Taggart’s “Three Years’ Residence in Canada.”
Short as was my stay in Quebec, I could not leave without regret the
hospitable city where I had received from strangers such a warm
welcome. I have never visited the Lower Province since; but my
remembrance of its old capital is still as agreeable as it is distinct.
The next day our brig was taken in tow by the fine steam-boat, the
“Richelieu de Chambly,” and with a leading wind and tide in our favour
we proceeded at a rapid rate up the river.
I shall not attempt to describe the charming scenery of this most
beautiful of all rivers, which has already been so amply described by
abler writers. I was delighted with everything I saw; but nothing
occurred worthy of narration.
The next day saw us safely moored in the port of Montreal, just
forty-five days from our departure from the London Docks. Montreal is a
handsome town, well situated, and must eventually become the most
important city in British North America. The river here is very broad.
The Lachine rapids commence immediately above the town, which are an
impediment to the navigation, now obviated by a canal terminating at
the village of Lachine, I believe nine miles distant from Montreal.
I took my passage in a Durham boat, bound for Kingston, which started
the next day. We had hard work poling up the rapids. I found I had
fallen in with a rough set of customers, and determined in my own mind
to leave them as soon as possible, which I happily effected the next
evening when we landed at Les Cedres. Here the great Otawa pours its
mighty stream into the St. Lawrence, tinging its green waters with a
darker hue, which can be traced for miles, till it is ultimately lost
in the rapids below.
I now determined to walk to Prescot, where I knew I should be able to
take the steam-boat for Kingston, on Lake Ontario. At the Coteau du Lac
I fell in with a Roman Catholic Irishman, named Mooney. We travelled in
company for three days, and as I had nothing else to do, I thought I
might as well make an effort to convert him. However, I signally
failed; and only endangered my own head by my zeal.
In the heat of argument and the indiscretion of youth, I used
expressions which the Papist considered insulting to his religion. He
was not one to put up patiently with this, so he would fire up, twirl
his blackthorn round his head, and say, “By St. Patrick, you had better
not say that again!” In everything else we agreed well enough; but I
found, on parting, that all my eloquence had been entirely thrown away.
Mr. Mooney remained just as firm a Roman Catholic as ever. Indeed, it
was the height of presumption in me, a boy in my twentieth year, to
attempt the conversion of such a strict Romanist as this Irishman.
The weather was excessively fine. The trees were just bursting into
leaf. The islands in the St. Lawrence, which are here numerous, wore
the brightest hues, and presented a charming contrast to the foaming
rapids.
I remained two or three days at Prescot, waiting the arrival of my
baggage, which I had left on board the Durham boat. I amused myself
during the interval by taking walks in the neighbourhood. The land
appeared very sandy, the timber being chiefly hemlock: the situation of
the town is good. Steam-navigation commenced at this place, and now
that the Welland Canal is completed, it affords an uninterrupted
navigation be borne in mind that at the time of which I am to the head
of Lakes Huron and Michigan. It must speaking (1825), the great St.
Lawrence Canal and the Rideau were not commenced, but since their
completion the Durham boats and small steamers have given place to a
set of superb boats affording the best accommodation, whereby the
passage from Montreal to Toronto can be performed at half the expense,
and in one-third of the time.
My baggage having arrived, I left Prescot by boat in the evening for
Kingston, at that time the second town both in size and importance in
Canada West. It must, on account of its situation as a military and
naval post, always be a place of consequence. I fell in there with an
old sea-dog, who had commanded a vessel, for many years trading between
London and Quebec. He had had the misfortune to lose his vessel, which
was wrecked on the rocks at Gaspe, near the mouth of the St. Lawrence.
I was glad to find the friends I was going to reside with had come out
passengers in his ship, and that the schooner he then commanded was
bound for the Big-bay (now called Windsor), in the township of Whitby,
within six or seven miles of my friends’ residence, and that they would
sail in two days at farthest.
On our passage from Prescot to Kingston we passed Brockville, which
looked very pretty from the river, and soon afterwards we were
threading our way through the intricacies of the Thousand Islands.[5]
Who has not heard of the far-famed Thousand Islands—the Archipelago of
the St. Lawrence? Nothing can exceed the beauty of this spot. The river
is here several miles in width, studded with innumerable islands, of
every variety of form. The moon shone brightly on this lovely scene:
not a ripple stirred the mirror-like bosom of the stream—“There was not
a breath the blue wave to curl.”
[5] “The Lake of the Thousand Isles. The expression was thought to be
a vague exaggeration, till the Isles were officially surveyed, and
found to amount to 1692. A sail through them presents one of the most
singular and romantic succession of scenes that can be imagined—the
Isles are of every size, form, height and aspect; woody, verdant,
rocky; naked, smiling, barren; and they present as numerous a
succession of bays, inlets, and channels as occur in all the rest of
the continent put together.” “Encyclopædia of Geography,” iv. 1321.
The reflection of the trees in the water enhanced the natural beauties
I have endeavoured to describe.
The next morning, June the 3rd, I embarked on board the schooner
“Shamrock,” on my way to Darlington. We passed the Duck islands towards
evening, and found ourselves fairly launched on the bosom of the Great
Ontario. We anchored next day opposite the town of Cobourg, then a
small village, without a harbour, now a fine, handsome, well-built
town, containing a population of nearly 4,000 inhabitants. A large sum
of money has been laid out in the construction of a harbour, which
appears to answer very well.
Cobourg is the county-town for the counties of Northumberland and
Durham, which comprehend the following townships: Darlington, Clarke,
Hope, Hamilton, Haldimand, Cramache, Murray, Seymour, Percy, Alnwick,
South Monaghan, Cavan, Manvers, and Cartwright. The soil of most of
these townships is of excellent quality, particularly the fronts of
Hamilton, Haldimand, and all Cavan, being generally composed of a deep
rich loam.
These townships are well watered by numerous spring creeks, bounded to
the north and east by the river Trent, Skugog and Rice Lakes; and to
the south, for about sixty miles, by Lake Ontario. The chief towns are
Cobourg, Port Hope, and Bournauville. As I shall have occasion in
another place to speak more fully respecting these counties, I shall
take my readers again on board the “Shamrock.”
Our captain having to land some goods at Cobourg, we were detained
there all night. He invited a few friends to pass the evening. A jolly
set of fellows they were, and they initiated me into the mysteries of
brewing whiskey-punch, a beverage I had never before tasted, and which
I found very palatable. The song and the joke went round till the small
hours warned us to retire.
On Sunday morning, June the 5th, I landed at the Big-bay (Windsor), in
Whitby, and after bidding adieu to my fellow-voyagers commenced my
journey to my friends in Darlington on foot. Whitby, at the time of
which I am speaking, was only partially settled, and chiefly by
Americans. This township is justly considered one of the best between
Toronto and Kingston. At present the township is well settled and
well-cultivated. Nearly all the old settlers are gone, and their farms
have, for the most part, been purchased by old country farmers and
gentlemen, the log-buildings having given place to substantial stone,
brick, or frame houses. The village of Oshawa, in this township, now
contains upwards of one thousand inhabitants, more than double the
number the whole township could boast of when I first set foot on its
soil.