Part 7

The only villages at this time (1820) between Montreal and Prescott are La Chine and Point Clear; the latter of which is eighteen miles from Montreal. It has a church and parsonage-house; contains about I,000 inhabitants, all of whom are Roman catholics.

The Village of the Cedars consists of a few houses, inhabited chiefly by mechanics. Coteau du Lac is equally small, but of more importance as a military post, a fort having been erected in its immediate vicinity for the protection of the trade upon the river, and for the purpose of intercepting the passage of an enemy, whether ascending or descending.

Cornwall, which is dignified with the appellation of a town, is more extensive than either of the two just mentioned. It is 86 miles from Montreal, and has a gaol, a court-house, a Roman catholic chapel, and a Presbyterian meeting-house. In Prescott, which contains about 150 inhabitants, there is a military fort, called “Fort Wellington.” At this place ship navigation commences, and continues as far as Niagara.

We remained two days at Prescott; and, on the 3d of September, we embarked for York (now Toronto) on board a small schooner, called the Caledonia. We performed this voyage, which is a distance of 250 miles, in six days.

The St. Lawrence, between Prescott and Kingston, presents an aspect the most wild and fanciful. The Lake of the Thousand Isles, which is situated between them, exhibits a delightful combination of the varied scenery of nature. It has all the features of the placid, the picturesque, and the sublime, with a striking inter-mixture of the savage and the uncouth. While slowly gliding up the stream the stranger observes the northern shores thickly settled. The lowly cottage and the large mansion alternately attract his notice. The bustle and activity of life are everywhere visible upon the land; while, upon the lake, all is solemn stillness and solitude. Hundreds of little islands, assuming every variety of form, and covered with stunted trees of almost every species, are spread over the watery expanse, and afford a finished specimen of that peculiar sort of scenery which is produced when the several principles and causes of vegetation are not consentaneous—when the seed is planted by the hand of nature in a sterile soil; and fertilizing rains, morning dews, and fostering breezes, severally contribute their appointed quota of natural assistance, but seem to lose much of their accustomed efficacy by having no suitable objects on which to operate.

The rocky and barren soil of these islands invites not the hand of industry to redeem them from their unproductiveness; nor do their unfrequented retreats discover to the beholder even a solitary wigwam. They are the abode of silence, and the resting-place of solitude. The contemplative observer cannot view them without some feelings of regret: while his eye roves with delight over spots of earth disposed into all imaginary shapes, in which matchless beauty and proofs of skilful design are apparent in every direction, his judgment detects the fallacy of his sight; and he laments to find these picturesque creations yielding nothing for supplying the wants of man but such products as serve to gratify his curious vision. Scarcely can he restrain the wish, presumptuous though it be, that Providence in its wisdom had distinguished this portion of the universe by something of greater utility and of more substantial excellence.

Immediately opposite Prescott, on the shore of the United States, is the town of Ogdensburg; and twelve miles higher up, on the Canada shore, stands the delightful village of Brockville, so called in honour of the late lamented Sir Isaac Brock. This enchanting little spot unites in its situation every beauty of nature. In front of it flows the river St. Lawrence, interspersed with numerous islands, variously formed, and thickly wooded. Behind it is an assemblage of small hills, rising one above another in “gay theatric pride;” and on each side are well-cleared farms, in an advanced state of cultivation. Every thing combines to render it preeminently beautiful. The dwellings are of wood, and tastefully painted; and the court-house, on an elevated situation at the back of the village, seems, from its superior size, to be the guardian of the villagers—an idea of my fancy, which I did not venture to confirm by entering within its doors.

Sixty-seven miles from Prescott, and seventy-nine from Brockville, is the town of Kingston, built in 1784, and a place of great importance to the British interests in Canada. It is the naval depôt of the Upper Province, and is strongly protected by a fort, called Fort Frederick. In Kingston harbour, which is deep and well-sheltered, there were at this time several large ships, and one, the St. Lawrence, of 102 guns, which is said to have cost the enormous sum of 300,000l. Some of these vessels were constructed in England, and sent to Quebec in frame, whence they were transported to Kingston, at immense cost, on board of such boats as have been already described. The carriage of the Psyche frigate alone, from Quebec to Kingston, is said to have cost 12,000_l._ What could induce government to build ships in England, where timber is so dear, for the service of Canada? The policy of this “sending of coals to Newcastle” is a mystery which could not be solved by the best informed men in the Canadas. A sufficient number of mechanics to construct every ship necessary for the lake-service, might have been sent out for one-fourth of the expense incurred by the bare transportation of a single frigate from Quebec to Kingston.

Lake Ontario, to which Kingston serves as a kind of entrance, is in length 171 miles, in breadth 59, and in circumference 467. The depth of the water varies very much, but is seldom less than three, or more than 50 fathoms, although, in the centre of the lake, soundings have been made with a line of 350 fathoms without finding a bottom. It is often visited with violent storms, which render its navigation peculiarly dangerous; and though none except experienced seamen ought to be entrusted with the management of the craft which sail upon its wide and deceitful bosom, yet many have obtained the command of vessels who were utterly ignorant of the science of navigation.

The waters of this lake, as well as those of Lakes Erie, Huron, and Superior, rise to an unusual height in every thirty-five years. In 1816, Ontario was seven feet higher than it is known to have been for upwards of thirty years before that time. Does not this form a very interesting subject for the speculations of the natural philosopher? While the waters of these lakes never rise or fall more than eight or ten inches above or below their usual height, excepting at these stated periods, what cause can be assigned for the production of such a body of water as is sufficient to effect this extraordinary change?

Between Kingston and York there are two or three very small villages, the largest of which is Belleville, containing at present about 150 inhabitants.

York (Toronto) is the seat of government for Upper Canada, and is situated on the north side of Lake Ontario. Its harbour, which is a very extensive one, is formed by a long narrow peninsula, commonly called Gibraltar Point. Though it is the capital of an extensive colony, it would, as it stands at this time, be considered in Europe but a village. Its defenceless situation, which cannot be much improved, renders it of little importance in time of war. It was captured by the Americans on the 27th of April, 1813. They had not, however, held possession of it many days when they evacuated it, having first destroyed all the public buildings.

The garrison is about a mile west of the town, and consists of a barrack for the troops, a residence for the commanding officer, a battery and two blockhouses, which are intended for the protection of the harbour. In the year 1793 there was only one wigwam on the present site of the town. It now contains 1,336 inhabitants, and about 250 houses, many of which exhibit a very neat appearance. The parliament-house, erected lately, is a large and convenient brick building, finished off in the plainest possible manner. The house in which the Lieut.-Governor resides is built of wood, and though by no means contemptible, is much inferior to some private houses in the town. Many of the law and government officers have very elegant seats in and about the town; and, with few exceptions, they are built of wood, and assume a most inviting aspect.

The streets of the capital are regularly laid out, intersecting each other at right angles. Only one of them, however, is yet completely built; and, in wet weather, the unfinished streets are, if possible, muddier and dirtier than those of Kingston. The situation of the town is very unhealthy, for it stands on a piece of low marshy land, which is better calculated for a frog-pond, or beaver meadow, than for the residence of human beings. The inhabitants are, on this account, much subject, particularly in spring and autumn, to agues and intermittent fevers; and, probably, five-sevenths of the people are annually afflicted with these complaints. He who first fixed upon this spot as the site of the capital of Upper Canada, whatever predilection he may have had for the roaring of frogs, or for the effluvia arising from stagnated waters and putrid vegetables, can certainly have had no very great regard for preserving the lives of his Majesty’s subjects. The town possesses one great advantage, however, which is that of a good though defenceless harbour.

When we arrived at York, my father waited on the Lieut.-Governor, and handed him the order for land which we had received from Earl Bathurst. His Excellency told him that he might select his land from any township in the Province at that time open for location; but assured him, that as he himself had been only a short time in the country, it was out of his power to recommend any particular division to his notice. He then referred my father to the Surveyor-General, and also gave him a letter of introduction to that officer, directing him to afford us such information as might be required. We called upon the Surveyor-General accordingly, but obtained very little satisfactory intelligence.

A short time afterwards, my father met with Col. Thomas Talbot, who came to Canada about thirty years before, an officer, if I mistake not, in the fifth regiment of foot. During the period of his being stationed here, he became so much attached to the woods and wilds, that, on his return home, he felt half dissatisfied with his native country. He, therefore, sold his commission, and obtained a grant of 100,000 acres of land, under the condition that he should place a settler upon every 200 acres. He selected an extensive tract on the northern borders of Lake Erie, about 150 miles S.W. of Toronto. In the year 1802, when there was not a single christian habitation within forty miles of his own estate, the Colonel commenced a settlement under the most discouraging and inauspicious circumstances imaginable. He called his domain Port Talbot, and, in eight or ten years, saw a thriving settlement gradually rise up around him. But he has not yet been able to fulfil his engagement with the government; nor is it likely that he will, if he continue to estimate his land at its present price—three dollars per acre for 150 acres, and 50 acres gratis.

The Colonel is one of the most eccentric characters on the whole continent. He not only lives a life of cheerless celibacy, but enjoys no human society whatever. So great was his aversion to the fair sex, that, for many years after his arrival at Port Talbot, he refused to hire a female servant, but milked his own cows, made his own butter, and performed every other function of kitchen-maid, house-maid, cook, and dairy-woman. Is it not rather strange that a British officer, of such high rank in the army, and respectable connexions in civil life, should be induced to settle in the pathless wilderness, where he is totally excluded from society, unless he should associate with a class of people whom he considers entirely beneath him, and with whom he has never yet in any respect confederated? Being a member of the legislative council of Upper Canada, he goes to York once or twice in the year. These visits, and an occasional one to England, at intervals of five or six years, serve to rub off the rust contracted in his lonely cottage, and to remind him that the world is still as merry as it was when he figured in its gayest circles.

From the Colonel’s extensive knowledge of the country, my father considered him to be well qualified for giving advice with respect to the choice of a settlement. He, therefore, made him acquainted with our circumstances and want of information. The Colonel mentioned several settlements as eligible, but particularly recommended the township of London, a tract of land surveyed many years ago by order of General Simcoe, the first Lieut.-General of Upper Canada. It was, therefore, agreed that we should immediately proceed to London; and, on the 11th of September, our whole party set off for Niagara on board the same schooner that brought us from Prescott.

Weary of travelling by water, I separated from the party at York, and proceeded by land to Port Talbot, where I agreed to join them. The road from York to Port Talbot, for the first fifty miles, runs nearly in a south-west course, through a thickly settled country, the soil of which is light and sandy, and therefore not susceptible of any great improvement. Several small rivers, whose banks are very high, and nearly perpendicular, intersect this part of the country, and render travelling an undertaking of difficult and dangerous performance. Horses, in ascending and descending these steep banks, frequently fall, and are sometimes dashed to pieces, in spite of the best exertions of their drivers. From the head of Lake Ontario to the Grand River Ouse, the river takes a western direction, and thence to the township of Woodhouse its inclination is southern, but from Woodhouse to Port Talbot it preserves a south-western course.

On the banks of the Grand River Ouse, twenty-one miles from Dundas, I passed through several villages inhabited by the Six Nations of Indians. These villages, which, from their proximity to each other, appear to be comprised in one settlement, are composed of about 200 houses, which contain nearly 1,500 inhabitants. The land upon which they reside is some of the most fertile in the whole province. It was given to the Indians of the Five Nations, who have since admitted another nation to participate in all their rights and immunities, immediately after the revolutionary war, as a compensation for lands which they had forfeited in the United States by their adherence to Great Britain. Six miles on each side of the river, from its source to its mouth, originally composed this grant; but they have since sold several townships to different individuals. Still, however, they retain a quantity of land sufficient, under proper cultivation, for the maintenance of half a million of people. In one of the Indian villages a neat church has been erected at the expense of government. It is greatly superior in workmanship, as well as in size, to many of the parish churches in Great Britain. The pulpit is situated at the upper extremity of the aisle, and is surmounted with the royal arms of England, executed in bas-relief.

A clergyman of the Established Church occasionally performs divine service in the church; and when he is absent, his place in the pulpit is supplied by an Indian, whom his countrymen dignify with the title of “Dr. John.” This worthy divine, in the absence of the English clergyman, affords his brethren a specimen of his oratorical abilities; but it is very evident that the gospel has not yet obtained much influence in the hearts of these Indians, or in that of the native preacher. It cannot, therefore, be supposed to exercise any great control over their conduct.

As I happened to be at this village on the sabbath, and felt curious to see uncivilised men engaged in the worship of the Deity, I called upon Dr. John, and requested to know if there would be any service in the forenoon. He had little the appearance of a minister of that gospel, the principle of which is—“Peace upon earth, and good will towards men,” for he was busily engaged in whetting a tomahawk, and replied to my question with the utmost indifference: “I meant,” said he, “to have had a meeting to-day, but I lost my spectacles in a frolic last night, and cannot, therefore, preach again till Mr. Smith (a neighbouring shopkeeper) gets his goods from Montreal.”

After crossing the Grand River, the road for many miles has a very delightful aspect. On each side of the road, extensive plains, thinly planted, apparently, by the hand of man, spread further than the eye can reach, and afford a pleasant contrast to the sombre gloom which hangs, like the shadow of darkness, over the greater part of this extensive continent. These plains are almost wholly uninhabited, although possessed of many superior advantages. But the want of timber and water for domestic purposes, and the inferiority of the soil, which is light and sandy, render them of little comparative value. To the traveller alone, wearied with his wanderings through interminable forests, these beautiful plantations and flower-covered fields afford an exhilarating prospect. Towards Long Point, in the neighbourhood of which there are also similar extensive plains, the country on each side of the road is tolerably well settled; but the houses of public entertainment afford the most wretched accommodations, and exhibit an appearance, both inside and out, which by no means induces one to form a favourable opinion of Canadian hostelries.

I reached Port Talbot on the 15th of September, and found that my friends had not arrived. As I was sitting a while after in a tavern contiguous to the river, and I expected to have met with my father and his family, a lady and gentleman rode up to the door. When the lady entered, I handed her a seat. The gentleman next appeared, and, on seating himself, inquired, as is customary in the country, whether I was travelling east or west. I told him that I had already explored as much of the western country as I then intended; and added, that, during the last four months, I had travelled from within seven degrees of the Observatory at Greenwich, and that it was not my design to go farther into the country until I had seen my friends, whom I daily expected from the east, safely and comfortably settled a few miles farther to the northward. This topographical reply a little surprised them, for it was too general, and did not descend to such _minutiæ_ as is usually expected.

The lady, who appeared a good deal embarrassed, or rather in a state of mental anxiety, said, with much apparent concern, “Alas, Sir, I fear your friends in America are few, and your hope of seeing them comfortably settled, like most worldly hopes, vain and unfeasible.” I conjured her to explain herself; and, after some hesitation, she reluctantly complied, for her exclamation had undoubtedly been involuntary:—“You are not altogether friendless! You have at least _one brother_! I saw him a few hours ago, in health, but unhappy. He is travelling in this direction, and will be with you in a few hours.” With this expression on her lips, she rose from her seat, and retired hastily to an adjoining apartment, where, addressing the landlady, she continued—“About eight o’clock this morning we overtook a number of young men, all Europeans, among whom was a gentleman, evidently the brother of this young man. They are the only surviving passengers of a large party belonging to the Fort Erie schooner, which was wrecked a few nights ago on the United States’ shore.” I heard this with undefinable emotions, and, rushing into the apartment, in which the lady was still conversing with the hostess, entreated her to tell me all she knew of the melancholy catastrophe. She said, “About three o’clock on the evening of the 19th of September, I saw your friends embark at Fort Erie for Port Talbot, on board a large schooner; and from the great number of passengers who embarked, and the indifferent quality of the vessel, the people of Fort Erie entertained serious apprehensions for the safety of the travellers—the weather being very boisterous, and the captain of the schooner an inefficient and inexperienced man. In a few days afterwards news arrived at Fort Erie that the vessel had been wrecked on the morning of the 21st, on the shore of the United States; and that the few young men who survived were taken up by a New York schooner, and landed in Canada.”

On hearing this awful intelligence, I immediately set off to meet my brother and his companions. Before I had proceeded more than half a dozen miles I met the whole party; and judged from their countenances that the information I had received was not exactly correct. I told them what I had heard, and desired to know whether or not I had been misinformed. My brother replied, that my information was in the main correct; that they had indeed been shipwrecked, but that no lives had been lost, except that of a Mrs. Lewis, who had died in consequence of severe cold and fatigue. I was also further given to understand that my father and his family were all well and safe, and in the United States, waiting only a vessel to bring them over to the shores of Canada. It is impossible to describe the sudden transition of my feelings on hearing these joyful tidings. A few moments before I had the strongest grounds for believing that my nearest relations were lodged in a cold and watery grave; but now I could indulge in the joyful anticipation of meeting them once more, restored, as it were, to life. In about a fortnight after this they all arrived at Port Talbot, after having experienced much kindness from the inhabitants of the State of New York during their continuance among them.

In the latter part of October, my father removed his family from Port Talbot to Westminster, where he procured lodgings for them until a house was erected on his own lands. The township of Westminster is separated from that of Port Talbot only by the river Thames. London is situated about 24 miles north of Lake Erie. On the 1st of November, 1818, it was entirely unsettled, and its surface studded with the various trees which are to be found in Canada. The land is considered, if not superior to every township hitherto opened for location, at least inferior to none in the whole province. The township forms a square, and is divided into 16 concessions, in each of which are 6,400 acres. These concessions are subdivided into lots of 200 acres, of which there are 32 in each. Between every two concessions there are 66 feet set apart for roads, which are called concession lines. These, together with seven side roads of equal width, which intersect them at right angles, and are equi-distant from each other, comprise all the public roads in a township.