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 PERSERVING INDUSTRY.
Our harvest, with the exception of some late oats, was all carefully
housed by the 18th of August. Very little grain is stacked out in this
country: even the hay is put up in barns. As timber can be had for the
cutting, log or frame-barns can be built very cheaply. I would
certainly recommend frame in preference to log-buildings.
Square timber, fit for framing, can be purchased from four to five
dollars per hundred feet, running measure. Twelve hundred feet are
sufficient, varying in size from four inches to a foot square. This
quantity will frame a barn fifty feet long by thirty feet wide, and
sixteen in height, from the sill to the plate which supports the roof.
Twelve thousand feet of boards and plank, at five dollars per thousand,
superficial measure, will be enough to enclose the frame, and lay the
threshing-floor, and board the roof ready for shingling.
The best and cheapest method of barn-building is as follows: In the
winter season cut and square with the broad axe all the frame timber
you require, and draw it home to the place you have fixed on for the
building, and from the saw-mill all the lumber you require. As soon as
the weather is warm enough hire a framer, whose business is to mark out
all the tenons and mortices, and to make or superintend the making of
them. When ready, the building is put together in what is called bents,
each bent consisting of two posts, one on each side of the building,
connected together by a strong beam running across the building. The
foundation is composed of twelve cedar blocks, three feet long, sunk
two-thirds of their depth into the ground, one under each corner of the
barn, and under the foot of each post. These blocks support the sills,
which are firmly united at the corner to the cross sills. The bents,
four in number, are then laid on this foundation, and are ready for
raising, which is done by calling a “bee.” Thirty-five men are ample
for this service—more are only in the way. Every two persons should be
provided with a light balsam or cedar pole, fifteen feet in length,
shod at the end with a ring and strong spike. These pike-poles are laid
in order in front of the bent to be raised, one between each person.
All being ready, the framer-gives the word “attention,” when each man
lays hold of the bent, one man being stationed at the foot of each post
with a hand-spike, which he presses against it to prevent its slipping.
“Yeo heave!” is then shouted by the framer, at which every man lifts,
waiting always for the word, and lifting together. As soon as the bent
is lifted as high as they can reach, the pike-poles are driven into the
beam, and the bent is soon in a perpendicular position. Several pikes
are then stuck into the opposite side to keep the bent from being
swayed over, until the tenons on the foot of the post is entered into
the mortice on the sill: it is then secured by stays, until the next
bent is raised, when the girts connect them together. In this manner
all the bents are raised: the wall-plates are then lifted upon the
building which connect all the bents. The tenon on the top of each post
goes through the plate, and is firmly pinned; the putting up the
rafters completes the frame. The raising of a building of this size
should not occupy more than three quarters of a-day. No liquor should
be served out to the swarm of working bees till the raising is over, as
many serious accidents having occurred for want of this precaution.
I am particular in giving these descriptions, because I flatter myself
they may prove useful to the future colonist.
The first week in September we commenced sowing our fall-wheat, and
finished on the tenth, which is considered in good season. I would by
all means recommend early sowing, especially on old cleared farms. Late
sown wheat is more liable to winter-kill and rust. In fact, you can
hardly sow too early to ensure a good crop.
September is the most beautiful month in the Canadian year. The weather
is neither too hot nor too cold. Nothing can be more delightfully
pleasant; for, in this month, the foliage of the trees begins to put on
that gorgeous livery for which the North American continent is so
justly celebrated. Every variety of tint, from the brightest scarlet
and deepest orange, yellow and green, with all the intermediate shades
blended together, form one of the most beautiful natural pictures you
can possibly conceive.
I received a very pressing invitation from my wife’s brother-in-law,
who resided near the foot of Rice Lake, in the township of Otonabee, to
come and spend a few days with him. As an additional inducement, he
promised to show me some capital duck-shooting. I was too fond of
fowling to decline such an invitation as this. Besides, I wished to see
that new settlement. The township lies north of Rice Lake, which forms
its southern boundary: it is the largest in the county of Peterborough,
with the exception of Harvey. Otonabee contains above eighty thousand
acres, and is now the most populous as well as one of the most fertile
townships in the county, which, at the time of which I am writing, had
been just opened by the Government for location.
The only practicable road then to this settlement was from Cobourg,
distant twelve miles from the southern shore of Rice Lake, leading over
a chain of hills, the highest of which is, I believe, about seven
hundred feet above the level of Lake Ontario, and from whence, on a
very clear day, the opposite shore may be seen, though the distance is
nearly sixty-five miles. I have heard this statement disputed, but I am
perfectly convinced of the truth from having myself seen, on several
occasions, the United States’ shore of the lake from White’s Hill,
which is several hundred feet lower.
It was arranged that I should drive my wife as far as Cobourg, and
leave her with some friends till my return. I was to take out with me
from Cobourg the gentleman’s sister, Miss Jane W——, who was to return
with me.
We left Darlington in a one-horse pleasure-waggon so called, or rather
mis-called, by the natives. For my part, I never could find in what the
pleasure consisted, unless in being jerked every minute two or three
feet from your seat by the unevenness of the road and want of springs
in your vehicle, or the next moment being soused to the axletree in a
mud-hole, from which, perhaps, you were obliged to extricate your
carriage by the help of a lever in the shape of a rail taken from some
farmer’s fence by the roadside. You are no sooner freed from this
Charybdis, than you fall into Scylla, formed by half a mile of
corduroy-bridge, made of round logs, varying from nine to fifteen
inches in diameter, which, as you may suppose, does not make the most
even surface imaginable, and over which you are jolted in the roughest
style possible, at the expense of your breath and injury of your
person. I am happy to say that better roads and a better description of
pleasure-carriages have superseded these inconvenient conveyances.
Since the institution of county councils, and the formation of towns
and townships into municipalities, great attention has been bestowed,
and large sums of money voted, for the improvement of roads and
bridges; and several Joint-stock companies, chartered by the Provincial
Parliament, have completed sundry lines of plank and macadamized roads,
on which toll-gates have been erected. What has already been done in
this way has added greatly to the wealth and settlement of the
province. No one can understand, indeed, except the early settler, what
a blessing a good road is, especially to those who are too far back for
the benefit of water communication.
The day was fine and clear when we started, and we congratulated
ourselves on the prospect of a pleasant journey, which, I am sorry to
say, was not to be verified. Distant thunder soon warned us that we
might expect a storm. We hurried on as fast as possible, in hope we
might be able to get through the nine-mile woods, in the township of
Clarke, before the bursting of the storm. In this, however, we were
disappointed; for, before we were half through the woods, the rain fell
in torrents, accompanied by the loudest thunder and most vivid
lightning I had ever seen. After above an hour’s most pitiless pelting,
we found ourselves suddenly before a small log-house, in front of
which, swinging between two upright posts, a cross-bar connecting them
at the top, depended a sign, on which was described, in large
characters, for the information of all way-worn or thirsty-travellers,
“that good liquor, good beds, and good accommodations, both for man and
horse, could be had from the proprietor, Thomas Turner Orton.”
Although from the outward appearance of the premises we did not expect
the best accommodation, we thought anything better than being exposed
longer to the fury of the storm, so giving our horse and waggon to the
charge of the ostler, we entered Mr. Orton’s tavern, and demanded to be
shown into a private room, which request we found it was out of the
power of mine host to comply with, seeing he had only one apartment,
which answered the treble purpose of parlour, kitchen, and bar-room.
Besides this general apartment there were two small bedrooms on the
ground-floor. Luckily for us, a good fire blazed on the ample hearth,
its only occupant, in the shape of a guest, being a gentleman from Port
Hope, who, like ourselves, had just taken refuge from the storm.
While our clothes were being dried, our hostess prepared dinner, which
consisted of a boiled chicken, eggs, and fried ham, which we found
excellent, and, as a preventive against catching cold, after the
soaking we had got, I ordered some whiskey-punch, which I have always
found very efficacious on such occasions. Some people recommend tea
made from the boughs of the hemlock-pine, which, I dare say, is
excellent for some constitutions; but it never agreed half so well with
mine as the former antidote, which I can conscientiously recommend but,
like all other medicines, an over-dose may do more harm than good.
Our host, who appeared to make himself quite at home in his own house,
joined in the conversation, and being very communicative about his own
affairs, wanted us to be equally so about ours. His eccentricity
greatly amused us. He informed me that he was by birth a Yorkshireman,
and that he had been in business in London, where he had built some
fine “place” or “terrace,” which still bore his name. He spouted Latin
occasionally, and showed me a Greek lexicon, which he told me was his
constant companion. His real stock of Latin and Greek consisted only of
a few words and sentences he had picked up, and which he quoted
ostentatiously before the ignorant, who of course thought him a prodigy
of learning.
As it continued to rain all the evening, I was obliged to give orders
to have my horse put up for the night, and also to see what
accommodation could be had for ourselves. I found on examination that
this was bad enough at least I thought so then, though many a time
since I should have been happy to obtain any half as good.
We started early next morning, and reached Cobourg, without any farther
adventure, about noon on the same day. We halted there three days. I
left my wife with our friends, and took charge of Miss W—— to escort
her to her brother’s house.
We left Cobourg for Rice Lake which was distant about twelve or
thirteen miles from thence. It was a delightful morning in October; and
our road, though very bad, and in some places positively dangerous,
where it descended into the deep ravines, was at the same time so
picturesque that we were quite delighted with our drive, and
particularly so when, emerging from the woods, we entered
Hamilton-plains, and beheld in the distance the glittering waters of
Rice Lake, and the gem-like islands which adorn its unruffled surface.
Rice Lake, or the Lake of the Burning Plains, as it is called in the
Indian language, is a fine sheet of water, twenty-seven miles in length
from east to west, varying from two to three and a half miles in width.
About six miles from its head on the northern shore it receives the
waters of the Otonabee river, which, rising near the head-waters of the
Madawaska, flows in nearly a westerly direction, into Balsam Lake,
where it takes a more southerly direction, forming in its course a
succession of beautiful lakes for upwards of sixty miles. Ten miles
above Peterborough, and directly opposite my own farm in the township
of Douro, it suddenly contracts its channel and becomes a rapid and
impetuous stream. According to a survey ordered by the-government, it
was ascertained that from a point on my farm, at the foot of
Kawchewahnoonk Lake, and distant from Peterborough nearly ten miles,
there is a fall of one hundred and forty-seven feet, affording an
unlimited water-power, which has already been extensively applied not
only in the town of Peterborough, where several fine flour and
saw-mills have been erected, but also in the townships through which it
flows.
At Peterborough the rapids cease, from whence the river becomes
navigable for steam-boats to the Rice Lake, at the distance of
twenty-one miles, which it enters after a course of fully two hundred
and fifty miles.
The Indian river takes its rise close to Stony Lake, from which it is
only divided by a narrow ridge of granite: this ridge has been cut
across at the sole expense of the Hon. Zacheus Burnham and Dr. John
Gilchrist, for the purpose of obtaining a larger supply of water for
the use of their mills at Warsaw, in Dummer and Keane, in Otonabee,
thus connecting the two rivers by this canal. This river flows through
the townships of Dummer, Douro, and Otonabee, its whole course not
exceeding thirty-five or forty miles, with the exception of a few small
streams. No other river of consequence flows into Rice Lake.
Our drive over the plains was truly delightful. New beauties presented
themselves at every step. It can hardly be imagined what a relief it is
to the eye, after travelling for miles through a dense forest, to see
such a beautiful landscape suddenly burst on your sight.
For nearly three miles our road lay through natural park-like scenery,
flowery knolls, deep ravines, and oak-crowned hills, with every now and
then the blue waters of the lake glittering through the trees. Our path
now entered a deep and finely-wooded ravine, which wound round the base
of steep hills on either hand, rising to a considerable height, their
summits crowned here and there with beautiful clumps of oak.
For nearly a mile we followed the sharp descent and windings of the
beautiful valley, till a sudden turning of the road revealed to our
sight the whole expanse of this fine sheet of water. Not a ripple
dimpled the surface; but, mirror-like, it lay with all its lovely
islands thickly wooded to their summits with the sugar-maple, which
rose, tree above tree, up the steep ascent of these conical islets,
which, reflected in the clear lake, added new beauties to the scene.
A few minutes more brought us to the tavern, a small log-house, kept by
one David Tidy, a very respectable Scotchman. The situation of this
man’s farm is one of the best on the lake shore. It is now the property
of Mr. Alfred Hayward, whose good taste has added greatly to its
natural beauties. Mrs. Hayward, who is an accomplished artist, has
taken a view of the lake from her garden, and also one of Port Hope,
both of which have been lithographed, and are much admired.
Tidy’s tavern, and two other log-houses, were at this time the only
settlements on the Rice Lake plains, which extend for nearly twenty
miles along the south shore, forming the rear of the townships of
Hamilton and Alnwick, but which are now dotted over with fine
productive farms, substantial stone, brick, or frame-houses,
full-bearing orchards, and possessing in fact almost every comfort and
convenience a farmer could wish.
The pretty village of Gore’s Landing is built partly on the lot
formerly possessed by Tidy, and partly on the adjoining lot at present
occupied by Captain Gore, from whom the village takes its name. The
gentlemen in this neighbourhood have, nearly at their own expense,
built a very neat church, which is romantically situated on the top of
a high hill overlooking the lake. In summer time nothing can exceed the
beauty of this spot, or be more suitable for the erection of a fane
dedicated to Him
“Whose temple is all space!”
This village contains two excellent taverns, a large steam saw-mill,
two stores, and several other buildings. Two steam-boats, the “Royal
George” and “Forester,” leave it daily for Peterborough, distant
twenty-five miles, making their return-trip the same day. Another
steamer is being constructed to run from the village of Keane, on the
Indian river in Otonabee down the Trent as far as Heely’s Falls and
back to Gore’s Landing. These boats meet Weller’s line of mail stages
at one o’clock, P.M. A fine line of plank road has been constructed
from this place to Cobourg, avoiding all the high hills. The stage time
is an hour and a half between lake and lake.
As nearly all the lumber and shingles manufactured at Peterborough and
the neighbouring townships intended for exportation to the United
States, must be either landed here or at Bewdley, at the head of the
lake, whence it is conveyed across in waggons to Port Hope or Cobourg,
this village bids fair to become a stirring little place.
One of my objects in writing this work is to point out what the country
was twenty-seven years ago, and what it is now, showing clearly that
what appeared to the pioneer of those days insurmountable difficulties,
have by persevering industry been overcome, “and the howling wilderness
made to blossom as the rose.” The desolating torrent has been utilised
and restrained; mills and factories have been erected; bridges span our
broadest rivers, and magnificent steamers plough our inland seas. Nor
is this all: the first sod of a railway has been turned, which is
ultimately intended to connect Lake Huron with Halifax and Boston,
bringing the riches of the Far West through its natural channel to the
sea.
Nothing, indeed, but industry and enterprise is needed to change the
waste and solitary places of Upper Canada into a garden of Eden, which
it is designed by the Supreme Architect to become.