Part 16

Our notice of the assembly usually to be seen within the walls of the primitive St. James', would not be complete, were we to omit all mention of Mr. John Fenton, who for some time officiated therein as parish clerk. During the palmy days of parish clerks in the British Islands, such functionaries, deemed at the time, locally, as indispensable as the parish minister himself, were a very peculiar class of men. He was a rarity amongst them, who could repeat in a rational tone and manner the responses delegated to him by the congregation. This arose from the circumstance that he was usually an all but illiterate village rustic, or narrow-minded small-townsman, brought into a prominence felt on all sides to be awkward.

Mr. Fenton's peculiarities, on the contrary, arose from his intelligence, his acquirements, and his independence of character. He was a rather small shrewd-featured person, at a glance not deficient in self-esteem. He was a proficient in modern popular science, a ready talker and lecturer. Being only a proxy, his rendering of the official responses in church was marked perhaps by a little too much individuality, but it could not be said that it was destitute of a certain rhetorical propriety of emphasis and intonation. Though not gifted, in his own person, with much melody of voice, his acquisitions included some knowledge of music. In those days congregational psalmody was at a low ebb, and the small choirs that offered themselves fluctuated, and now and then vanished wholly. Not unfrequently, Mr. Fenton, after giving out the portion of Brady and Tate, which it pleased him to select, would execute the whole of it as a solo, to some accustomed air, with graceful variations of his own. All this would be done with great coolness and apparent self-satisfaction.

While the discourse was going on in the Pulpit above him, it was his way, often, to lean himself resignedly back in a corner of his pew and throw a white cambric handkerchief over his head and face. It illustrates the spirit of the day to add, that Mr. Fenton's employment as official mouth-piece to the congregation of the English Church, did not stand in the way of his making himself useful, at the same time, as a class-leader among the Wesleyan Methodists.

The temperament and general style of this gentleman did not fail of course to produce irritation of mind in some quarters. The _Colonial Advocate_ one morning averred its belief that Mr. Fenton had, on the preceding Sunday, glanced at itself and its patrons in giving out and singing (probably as a solo) the Twelfth Psalm: "Help, Lord, for good and godly men do perish and decay; and faith and truth from worldly men are parted clean away; whoso doth with his neighbour talk, his talk is all but vain; for every man bethinketh now to flatter, lie and feign!" Mr. Fenton afterwards removed to the United States, where he obtained Holy Orders in the Episcopal Church. His son was a clever and ingenious youth. We remember a capital model in wood of "Caesar's Bridge over the Rhine," constructed by him from a copper-plate engraving in an old edition of the Commentaries used by him in the Grammar School at York.

The predecessor of Mr. Fenton in the clerk's desk was Mr. Hetherington--a functionary of the old-country village stamp. His habit was, after giving out a psalm, to play the air on a bassoon; and then to accompany with fantasias on the same instrument such vocalists as felt inclined to take part in the singing. This was the day of small things in respect of ecclesiastical music at York. A choir from time to time had been formed. Once, we have understood, two rival choirs were heard on trial in the Church; one of them strong in instrumental resources, having the aid of a bass-viol, clarionet and bassoon; the other more dependent on its vocal excellencies. The instrumental choir triumphantly prevailed, as we are assured: and in 1819 an allowance of L20 was made to Mr. Hetherington for giving instruction in church music. One of the principal encouragers of the vocalist-party was Dr. Burnside. But all expedients for doing what was, in reality, the work of the congregation itself were unreliable; and the clerk or choir-master too often found himself a solitary performer. Mr. Hetherington's bassoon, however, may be regarded as the harbinger and foreshadow of the magnificent organ presented in after-times to the congregation of the "Second Temple" of St. James', by Mr. Dunn--a costly and fine-toned instrument (presided over, for a short time, by the eminent Dr. Hodges, subsequently of Trinity Church, New York), but destined to be destroyed by fire, together with the whole church, after only two years of existence, in 1839.

In the conflagration of 1839 another loss occurred, not so much to be regretted; we refer to the destruction of a very large triplet window of stained glass over the altar of the church, containing three life-size figures by Mr. Craig, a local "historical and ornamental painter," not well skilled in the ecclesiastical style. As home-productions, however, these objects were tenderly eyed; but Mrs. Jameson in her work on Canada cruelly denounced them as being "in a vile tawdry taste."--Conceive, in the presence of these three Craigs, the critical authoress of the "History of Sacred and Legendary art," accustomed, in the sublime cathedrals of Europe, to

"See the great windows like the jewell'd gates Of Paradise, burning with harmless fire."

Mr. Dunn, named above as donor of an organ to the second St. James', had provided the previous wooden church with Communion Plate. In the _Loyalist_ of March 1, 1828, we read: "The undersigned acknowledges the receipt of L112 18 5 from the Hon. John Henry Dunn, being the price of a superb set of Communion Plate presented by him to St. James' Church at this place. J. B. Macaulay, Church Warden, York, 23rd Feb., 1828."

Before leaving St. James' Church and its precincts, it may be well to give some account of the steps taken in 1818, for the enlargement of the original building. This we are enabled to do, having before us an all but contemporary narrative. It will be seen that great adroitness was employed in making the scheme acceptable, and that pains were shrewdly taken to prevent a burdensome sense of self-sacrifice on the part of the congregation. At the same time a pleasant instance of voluntary liberality is recorded. "A very respectable church was built at York in the Home District, many years ago"--the narrative referred to, in the _Christian Recorder_ for 1819, p. 214, proceeds to state--"which at that time accommodated the inhabitants; but for some years past, it has been found too small, and several attempts were made to enlarge and repair it. At length, in April 1818, in a meeting of the whole congregation, it was resolved to enlarge the church, and a committee was appointed to suggest the most expeditious and economical method of doing it. The committee reported that a subscription in the way of loan, to be repaid when the seats were sold, was the most promising method. No subscription to be taken under twenty-five pounds, payable in four instalments."

"Two gentlemen," the narrative continues, "were selected to carry the subscription paper round; and in three hours from twelve to thirteen hundred pounds were subscribed. Almost all the respectable gentlemen gave in loan Fifty Pounds; and the Hon. Justice Boulton, and George Crookshank, Esq., contributed L100 each, to accomplish so good an object. The church was enlarged, a steeple erected, and the whole building with its galleries, handsomely finished. In January last (1819)," our authority proceeds to say, "when everything was completed, the pews were sold at a year's credit, and brought more money than the repairs and enlargement cost. Therefore," it is triumphantly added, "the inhabitants at York erect a very handsome church at a very little expense to themselves, for every one may have his subscription money returned, or it may go towards payment of a pew; and, what is more, the persons who subscribed for the first church count the amount of their subscription as part of the price of their new pews. This fair arrangement has been eminently successful; and gave great satisfaction."

The special instance of graceful voluntary liberality above referred to is then subjoined in these terms: "George Crookshank, Esq., notwithstanding the greatness of his subscription, and the pains which he took in getting the church well finished, has presented the clergyman with cushions for the pulpit and reading desk, covered with the richest and finest damask; and likewise cloth for the communion-table." "This pious liberality," the writer remarks, "cannot be too much commended; it tells us that the benevolent zeal of ancient times is not entirely done away. The congregation were so much pleased," it is further recorded, "that a vote of thanks was unanimously offered to Mr. Crookshank for his munificent present." (The pulpit, sounding-board, and desk had been a gift of Governor Gore to the original church, and had cost the sum of one hundred dollars.)

When the necessity arose in 1830 for replacing the church thus enlarged and improved, by an entirely new edifice of more respectable dimensions, the same cool, secular ingenuity was again displayed in the scheme proposed; and it was resolved by the congregation (among other things) "that the pew-holders of the present church, if they demanded the same, be credited one-third of the price of the pews that they purchased in the new church, not exceeding in number those which they possessed in the old church; that no person be entitled to the privilege granted by the last resolution who shall not have paid up the whole purchase money of his pew in the old church; that the present church remain as it is, till the new one is finished; that after the new church is completed, the materials of the present one be sold to the highest bidder, and the proceeds of the same be applied to the liquidation of any debt that may be contracted in erecting the new church, or furnishing the same; that the upset price of pews in the new church be twenty-five pounds currency;" and so on.

The stone edifice then erected (measuring within about 100 by 75 feet), but never completed in so far as related to its tower, was destroyed by fire in 1839. Fire, in truth, may be said to be, sooner or later, the "natural death" of public buildings in our climate, where, for so many months in every year, the maintenance within them of a powerful artificial heat is indispensable.

Ten years after the re-edification of the St. James' burnt in 1839, its fate was again to be totally destroyed. But now fire was communicated to it from an external source--from a general conflagration raging at the time in the part of the town lying to the eastward. On this occasion was destroyed in the belfry of the tower, a Public Clock, presented to the inhabitants of Toronto, by Mr. Draper, on his ceasing to be one of their representatives in Parliament.

In the later annals of St. James' Church, the year 1873 is memorable.

Several very important details in Mr. Cumberland's noble design for the building had long remained unrealized. The tower and spire were absent: as also the fine porches on the east, west, and south sides, the turrets at the angles, and the pinnacles and finials of the buttresses. Meanwhile the several parts of the structure where these appendages were, in due time, to be added, were left in a condition to shew to the public the mind and intention of the architect.

In 1872, by the voluntary munificence of several members of the congregation, a fund for the completion of the edifice in accordance with Mr. Cumberland's plans was initiated, to which generous donations were immediately added; and in 1873 the edifice, of whose humble "protoplasm" in 1803 we have sought, in a preceding section, to preserve the memory, was finally brought to a state of perfection.

By the completion of St. James' Church, a noble aspect has been given to the general view of Toronto. Especially has King Street been enriched, the ranges of buildings on its northern side, as seen from east or west, culminating centrically now in an elevated architectural object of striking beauty and grandeur, worthy alike of the comely, cheerful, interesting thoroughfare which it overlooks, and of the era when the finial crowning its apex was at length set in its place.

Worthy of special commemorative record are those whose thoughtful liberality originated the fund by means of which St. James' Church was completed. The Dean, the Very Rev. H. J. Grasett, gave the handsome sum of Five thousand dollars. Mr. John Worthington, Four thousand dollars. Mr. C. Gzowski, Two thousand dollars. Mr. J. Gillespie, One thousand dollars. Mr. E. H. Rutherford, One thousand dollars. Mr. W. Cawthra, One thousand dollars. Mr. Gooderham and Mr. Worts, conjointly, One thousand dollars. Miss Gordon, the daughter of a former ever-generous member of the congregation, the Hon. J. Gordon, One thousand dollars. Sums, in endless variety, from Eight Hundred dollars downwards, were in a like good spirit offered on the occasion by other members of the congregation, according to their means. An association of young men connected with the congregation undertook and effected the erection of the Southern Porch.

Let it be added, likewise, that in 1866, the sum of Fourteen thousand nine hundred and forty-five dollars was expended in the purchase of a peal of bells, and in providing a chamber for its reception in the tower--a free gift to the whole community greatly surpassing in money's worth the sum above named: for have not the chimes, with all old-countrymen at least, within the range of their sound, the effect of an instantaneous translation to the other side of the Atlantic? Close the eyes, and at once the spirit is far, far away, hearkening, now in the calm of a summer's evening, now between the fitful wind-gusts of a boisterous winter's morn, to music in exactly the same key, with exactly the same series of cadences, given out from tree-embosomed tower in some ancient market-town or village, familiar to the listener in every turn and nook, in days bygone.

And further, let it be added, that in 1870, to do honour to the memory of the then recently deceased Bishop Strachan, the congregation of St. James "beautified" the chancel of their church at a cost of Seven thousand five hundred dollars, surrounding the spacious apse with an arcade of finely carved oak, adding seats for the canons, a decanal stall, a bishop's throne, a pulpit and desk, all in the same style and material, elaborately carved, with a life-like bust in white marble of the departed prelate, by Fraser of Montreal, in a niche constructed for its reception in the western wall of the chancel, with a slab of dark stone below bearing the following inscription in gilded letters:--

"NEAR THIS SPOT REST THE MORTAL REMAINS OF JOHN STRACHAN, FIRST BISHOP OF TORONTO, WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE NOVEMBER THE 1ST, 1867, IN THE NINETIETH YEAR OF HIS AGE AND THE TWENTY-NINTH OF HIS EPISCOPATE. HIS CONSPICUOUS LABOURS, FORESIGHT, AND CONSTANCY IN THE SERVICE OF THE CHURCH AND COMMONWEALTH, AS AN EDUCATOR, AS A MINISTER OF RELIGION, AS A STATESMAN, FORM AN IMPORTANT PORTION OF THE EARLY HISTORY OF WESTERN CANADA. DURING THIRTY-FIVE YEARS HE WAS RECTOR OF THIS CHURCH AND PARISH. IN REMEMBRANCE OF HIM, THE CONGREGATION HAVE BEAUTIFIED THE CHANCEL AND ERECTED THIS MEMORIAL. EASTER, 1870."

XI.

KING STREET: DIGRESSION NORTHWARD AT CHURCH STREET: THE OLD DISTRICT GRAMMAR SCHOOL.

Immediately north of the church plot, and separated from it by an allowance for a street, was a large field, almost square, containing six acres. In a plan of the date 1819, and signed "T. Ridout, Surveyor-General," this piece of ground is entitled "College Square." (In the same plan the church reservation is marked "Church Square;" and the block to the west, "Square for Court House and Jail.") The fact that the Jail was to be erected there accounts for the name "Newgate Street," formerly borne by what is now Adelaide Street.

In the early days, when the destined future was but faintly realized, "College Square" was probably expected to become in time, and to continue for ever, an ornamental piece of ground round an educational institution. The situation, in the outskirts of York, would be deemed convenient and airy.

For many years this six-acre field was the play-ground of the District Grammar School. Through the middle of it, from north to south, passed a shallow "swale," where water collected after rains; and where in winter small frozen ponds afforded not bad sliding-places. In this moist region, numerous crayfish were to be found in summer. Their whereabouts was always indicated by small clay chimneys of a circular form, built by the curious little nipping creatures themselves, over holes for the admission of air.

In different places in this large area were remains of huge pine-stumps, underneath the long roots of which it was an amusement to dig and form cellars or imaginary treasure-vaults and powder-magazines. About these relics of the forest still grew remains of the ordinary vegetation of such situations in the woods; especially an abundance of the sorrel-plant, the taste of which will be remembered, as being quite relishable. In other places were wide depressions showing where large trees had once stood. Here were no bad places, when the whim so was, to lie flat on the back and note the clouds in the blue vault over head; watch the swallows and house-martins when they came in spring; and listen to their quiet prattle with each other as they darted to and fro; sights and sounds still every year, at the proper season, to be seen and heard in the same neighbourhood, yielding to those who have an eye or ear for such matters a pleasure ever new; sights and sounds to this day annually resulting from the cheery movements and voices of the direct descendants, doubtless, of the identical specimens that flitted hither and thither over the play-ground of yore.

White clover, with other herbage that commonly appears spontaneously in clearings, carpeted the whole of the six acres, with the exception of the places worn bare, where favourable spots had been found for the different games of ball in vogue--amongst which, however, cricket was not then in these parts included--except, perhaps, under a form most infantile and rudimentary. After falls of moist snow in winter, gigantic balls used here to be formed, gathering as they were rolled along, until by reason of their size and weight they could be urged forward no further: and snow castles on a large scale were laboriously built; destined to be defended or captured with immense displays of gallantry. Preparatory to such contest, piles of ammunition would be stored away within these structures. It was prohibited, indeed, in the articles to be observed in operations of attack and defence, to construct missiles of very wet snow; to dip a missile in melted snow-water prior to use; to subject a missile after a saturation of this kind, to the action of a night's frost; to secrete within the substance of a missile any foreign matter; yet, nevertheless, occasionally such acts were not refrained from; and wounds and bruises of an extra serious character, inflicted by hands that could not always be identified, caused loud and just complaints. Portions of the solid and extensive walls of the extemporized snow-fortresses were often conspicuous in the play-ground long after a thaw had removed the wintry look from the rest of the scene.

The Building into which the usual denizens of the six-acre play-ground were constrained, during certain portions of each day, to withdraw themselves, was situated at a point 114 feet from its western, and 104 from its southern boundary. It was a large frame structure, about fifty-five long, and forty wide; of two storeys; each of a respectable altitude. The gables faced east and west. On each side of the edifice were two rows of ordinary sash windows, five above, and five below. At the east end were four windows, two above, two below. At the west end were five windows and the entrance-door. The whole exterior of the building was painted of a bluish hue, with the exception of the window and door frames, which were white. Within, on the first floor, after the lobby, was a large square apartment. About three yards from each of its angles, a plain timber prop or post helped to sustain the ceiling. At about four feet from the floor, each of these quasi-pillars began to be chamfered off at its four angles. Filling up the south-east corner of the room was a small platform approached on three sides by a couple of steps. This sustained a solitary desk about eight feet long, its lower part cased over in front with thin deal boards, so as to shut off from view the nether extremities of whosoever might be sitting at it.

On the general level of the floor below, along the whole length of the southern and northern sides of the chamber, were narrow desks set close against the wall, with benches arranged at their outer side. At right angles to these, and consequently running out, on each side into the apartment, stood a series of shorter desks, with double slopes, and benches placed on either side. Through the whole length of the room from west to east, between the ends of the two sets of cross benches, a wide space remained vacant. Every object and surface within this interior, were of the tawny hue which unpainted pine gradually assumes. Many were the gashes that had furtively been made in the ledges of the desks and on the exterior angles of the benches; many the ducts cut in the slopes of the desks for spilt ink or other fluid; many the small cell with sliding lid, for the incarceration of fly or spider; many the initials and dates carved here, and on other convenient surfaces, on the wainscot and the four posts.

On the benches and at the desks enumerated and described, on either side, were ordinarily to be seen the figures and groups which usually fill up a school interior, all busily engaged in one or other of the many matters customary in the training and informing the minds of boys. Here, at one time, was to be heard, on every side, the mingled but subdued sound of voices conning or repeating tasks, answering and putting questions; at another time, the commotion arising out of a transposition of classes, or the breaking up of the whole assembly into a fresh set of classes; at another time, a hushed stillness preparatory to some expected allocution, or consequent on some rebuke or admonition. It was manifest, at a glance, that the whole scene was under the spell of a skilled disciplinarian.