Part 8

Passing westward, we had on the right the spacious home of Mr. Crookshank, a benevolent and excellent man, sometime Receiver-General of the Province, of whom we shall again have occasion to speak; and on the left, on a promontory suddenly jutting out into the harbour, "Captain Bonnycastle's cottage," with garden and picturesque grove attached; all Ordnance property in reality, and once occupied by Col. Coffin. The whole has now been literally eaten away by the ruthless tooth of the steam excavator. On the beach to the west of this promontory was a much frequented bathing-place. Captain Bonnycastle, just named, was afterwards Sir Richard, and the author of "Canada as it was, is, and may be," and "Canada and the Canadians in 1846."

The name "Peter," attached to the street which flanks on the west the ancient homestead and extensive outbuildings of Mr. Crookshank, is a memento of the president or administrator, Peter Russell. It led directly up to Petersfield, Mr. Russell's park lot on Queen Street.

We come here to the western boundary of the so-called New Town--the limit of the first important extension of York westward. The limit, eastward, of the New Town, was a thoroughfare known in the former day as Toronto Street, which was one street east of Yonge Street, represented now by Victoria Street. At the period when the plan was designed for this grand western and north-western suburb of York, Yonge Street was not opened southward farther than Lot [Queen] Street. The roadway there suddenly veered to the eastward, and then, after a short interval, passed down Toronto Street, a roadway a little to the west of the existing Victoria Street.

The tradition in Boston used to be, that some of the streets there followed the line of accidental cow-paths formed in the olden time in the uncleared bush; and no doubt other old American towns, like ancient European towns generally, exhibit, in the direction of their thoroughfares, occasionally, traces of casual circumstances in the history of the first settlers on their respective sites. The practice at later periods has been to make all ways run as nearly as possible in right lines. In one or two "jogs" or irregularities, observable in the streets of the Toronto of to-day, we have memorials of early waggon tracks which ran where they most conveniently could. The slight meandering of Front Street in its course from the garrison to the site of the first Parliament Buildings, and of Britain Street, (an obscure passage between George Street and Caroline Street), may be thus explained; as also the fact that the southern end of the present Victoria Street does not connect immediately with the present Toronto Street. This last-mentioned irregularity is a relic of the time when the great road from the north, namely, Yonge Street, on reaching Queen Street, slanted off to the eastward across vacant lots and open ground, making by the nearest and most convenient route for the market and the heart of the town.

After the laying-out in lots of the region comprehended in the first great expansion of York, of which we have spoken, inquiries were instituted by the authorities as to the improvements made by the holders of each. In the chart accompanying the report of Mr. Stegman, the surveyor appointed to make the examination, the lots are coloured according to the condition of each, and appended are the following curious particulars, which smack somewhat of the ever-memorable town-plot of Eden, to which Martin Chuzzlewit was induced to repair, and which offered a lively picture of an infant metropolis in the rough. (We must represent to ourselves a chequered diagram; some of the squares white or blank; some tinted blue; some shaded black; the whole entitled "Sketch of the Part of the Town of York west of Toronto Street.")--"Explanation: The blank lots are cleared, agreeable to the notice issued from His Excellency the Lieutenant-Governor, bearing date September the fourth, 1800. The lots shaded blue are chiefly cut, but the brush not burnt; and those marked with the letter A, the brush only cut. The lots shaded black, no work done. The survey made by order of the Surveyor-General's office, bearing date April the 23rd, 1801." A more precise examination appears to have been demanded. The explanations appended to the second plan, which has squares shaded brown, in addition to those coloured blue and black, are: "1st. The blank lots are cleared. 2nd. The lots shaded black, _no work done_. 3rd. The lots shaded brown, _the brush cut and burnt_. 4th. The lots shaded blue, _the brush cut and not burnt_. N.B. The lots 1 and 2 on the north side of Newgate Street [the site subsequently of the dwelling-house of Jesse Ketchum, of whom hereafter], are mostly clear of the large timber, and some _brush cut_ also, but _not burnt_; therefore omitted in the first report. This second examination done by order of the Honourable John Elmsley, Esq."

The second extension of York westward included the Government Common. The staking out of streets here was a comparatively late event. Brock Street, to which we have now approached, had its name, of course, from the General officer slain at Queenston, and its extra width from the example set in the Avenue to the north, into which it merges after crossing Queen Street.

A little to the west of Brock Street was the old military burying-ground, a clearing in the thick brushwood of the locality: of an oblong shape, its four picketed sides directed exactly towards the four cardinal points. The setting off of the neighbouring streets and lots at a different angle, caused the boundary lines of this plot to run askew to every other straight line in the vicinity. Over how many a now forgotten and even obliterated grave have the customary farewell volleys here been fired!--those final honours to the soldier, always so touching; intended doubtless, in the old barbaric way, to be an incentive to endurance in the sound and well; and consolatory in anticipation to the sick and dying.

In the mould of this old cemetery, what a mingling from distant quarters! Hearts finally at rest here, fluttered in their last beats, far away, at times, to old familiar scenes "beloved in vain" long ago; to villages, hedgerows, lanes, fields, in green England and Ireland, in rugged Scotland and Wales. Many a widow, standing at an open grave here, holding the hand of orphan boy or girl, has "wept her soldier dead," not slain in the battle-field, indeed, but fallen, nevertheless, in the discharge of duty, before one or other of the subtle assailants that, even in times of peace, not unfrequently bring the career of the military man to a premature close. Among the remains deposited in this ancient burial-plot are those of a child of the first Governor of Upper Canada, a fact commemorated on the exterior of the mortuary chapel over his own grave in Devonshire, by a tablet on which are the words: "Katharine, born in Upper Canada, 16th Jan., 1793; died and was buried at York Town, in that Province, in 1794."

Close to the military burial-ground was once enacted a scene which might have occurred at the obsequies of a Tartar chief in the days of old. Capt. Battersby, sent out to take command of a Provincial corps, was the owner of several fine horses, to which he was greatly attached. On his being ordered home, after the war of 1812, friends and others began to make offers for the purchase of the animals; but no; he would enter into no treaty with any one on that score. What his decision was became apparent the day before his departure from York. He then had his poor dumb favourites led out by some soldiers to the vicinity of the burying-ground; and there he caused each of them to be deliberately shot dead. He did not care to entrust to the tender mercies of strangers, in the future, those faithful creatures that had served him so well, and had borne him whithersoever he listed, so willingly and bravely. The carcasses were interred on the spot where the shooting had taken place.

Returning now again to Brock Street, and placing ourselves at the middle point of its great width--immediately before us to the north, on the ridge which bounds the view in the distance, we discern a white object. This is Spadina House, from which the avenue into which Brock Street passes, takes its name. The word Spadina itself is an Indian term tastefully modified, descriptive of a sudden rise of land like that on which the house in the distance stands. Spadina was the residence of Dr. W. W. Baldwin, to whom reference has already been made. A liberal in his political views, he nevertheless was strongly influenced by the feudal feeling which was a second nature with most persons in the British Islands some years ago. His purpose was to establish in Canada a family, whose head was to be maintained in opulence by the proceeds of an entailed estate. There was to be forever a Baldwin of Spadina.

It is singular that the first inheritor of the newly-established patrimony should have been the statesman whose lot it was to carry through the Legislature of Canada the abolition of the rights of primogeniture. The son grasped more readily than the father what the genius of the North American continent will endure, and what it will not.

Spadina Avenue was laid out by Dr. Baldwin on a scale that would have satisfied the designers of St. Petersburg or Washington. Its width is one hundred and twenty feet. Its length from the water's edge to the base of Spadina Hill would be nearly three miles. Garnished on both sides by a double row of full grown chestnut trees, it would vie in magnificence, when seen from an eminence, with the Long Walk at Windsor.

Eastward of Spadina House, on the same elevation of land, was Davenport, the picturesque and chateau-like home of Col. Wells, formerly of the 43rd regiment, built at an early period. Col. Wells was a fine example of the English officer, whom we so often see retiring from the camp gracefully and happily into domestic life. A faithful portrait of him exists, in which he wears the gold medal of Badajoz. His sons, natural artists, and arbiters of taste, inherited, along with their aesthetic gifts, also lithe and handsome persons. One of them, now, like his father, a Lieutenant-Colonel in the army, was highly distinguished in the Crimea; and on revisiting Toronto after the peace with Russia, was publicly presented with a sword of honour. The view of the Lake and intervening forest, as seen from Davenport and Spadina, before the cultivation of the alluvial plain below, was always fine. (On his retirement from the army, the second Col. Wells took up his abode at Davenport.)

III.

FROM BROCK STREET TO THE OLD FRENCH FORT.

Returning again to the front. The portion of the Common that lies immediately west of the foot of Brock Street was enclosed for the first time and ornamentally planted by Mr. Jameson. Before his removal to Canada, Mr. Jameson had filled a judicial position in the West Indies. In Canada, he was successively Attorney-General and Vice-Chancellor, the Chancellorship itself being vested in the Crown. The conversational powers of Mr. Jameson were admirable: and no slight interest attached to the pleasant talk of one who, in his younger days, had been the familiar associate of Southey, Wordsworth, and Samuel Taylor Coleridge. In a volume of poems by Hartley Coleridge, son of the philosopher, published in 1833, the three sonnets addressed "To a Friend," were addressed to Mr. Jameson, as we are informed in a note. We give the first of these little poems at length:

"When we were idlers with the loitering rills, The need of human love we little noted: Our love was nature; and the peace that floated On the white mist, and dwelt upon the hills, To sweet accord subdued our wayward wills: One soul was ours, one mind, one heart devoted, That, wisely doating, asked not why it doated, And ours the unknown joy, which knowing kills. But now I find how dear thou wert to me; That man is more than half of nature's treasure, Of that fair Beauty which no eye can see, Of that sweet music which no ear can measure; And now the streams may sing for others' pleasure, The hills sleep on in their eternity."

The note appended, which appears only in the first edition, is as follows: "This sonnet, and the two following, my earliest attempts at that form of versification, were addressed to R. S. Jameson, Esq., on occasion of meeting him in London, after a separation of some years. He was the favourite companion of my boyhood, the active friend and sincere counsellor of my youth. 'Though seas between us broad ha' roll'd' since we 'travelled side by side' last, I trust the sight of this little volume will give rise to recollections that will make him ten years younger. He is now Judge Advocate at Dominica, and husband of Mrs. Jameson, authoress of the 'Diary of an Ennuyee,' 'Loves of the Poets,' and other agreeable productions."

Mr. Jameson was a man of high culture and fine literary tastes. He was, moreover, an amateur artist of no ordinary skill, as extant drawings of his in water-colours attest. His countenance, especially in his old age, was of the Jeremy Bentham stamp.

It was from the house on the west of Brock Street that Mrs. Jameson dated the letters which constitute her well-known "Winter Studies and Summer Rambles." That volume thus closes: "At three o'clock in the morning, just as the moon was setting on Lake Ontario, I arrived at the door of my own house in Toronto, having been absent on this wild expedition [to the Sault] just two months." York had then been two years Toronto. (For having ventured to pass down the rapids at the Sault, she had been formally named by the Otchipways of the locality, _Was-sa-je-wun-e-qua_, "Woman of the Bright Stream.")

The Preface to the American edition of Mrs. Jameson's "Characteristics of Women" was also written here. In that Introduction we can detect a touch due to the "wild expedition" just spoken of. "They say," she observes, "that as a savage proves his heroism by displaying in grim array the torn scalps of his enemies, so a woman thinks she proves her virtue by exhibiting the mangled reputations of her friends:" a censure, she adds, which is just, but the propensity, she explains, is wrongly attributed to ill-nature and jealousy. "Ignorance," she proceeds, "is the main cause; ignorance of ourselves and others; and when I have heard any female acquaintance commenting with a spiteful or a sprightly levity on the delinquencies and mistakes of their sex, I have only said to myself, 'They know not what they do.'" "Here, then," the Preface referred to concludes, "I present to women a little elementary manual or introduction to that knowledge of woman, in which they may learn to understand better their own nature; to judge more justly, more gently, more truly of each other;

'And in the silent hour of inward thought To still _suspect_, yet still _revere_ themselves In lowliness of heart.'"

Mrs. Jameson was unattractive in person at first sight, although, as could scarcely fail to be the case in one so highly endowed, her features, separately considered, were fine and boldly marked. Intellectually, she was an enchantress. Besides an originality and independence of judgment on most subjects, and a facility in generalizing and reducing thought to the form of a neat aphorism, she had a strong and capacious memory, richly furnished with choice things. Her conversation was consequently of the most fascinating kind.

She sang, too, in sweet taste, with a quiet softness, without display. She sketched from nature with great elegance, and designed cleverly. The seven or eight illustrations which appear in the American edition of the "Characteristics," dated at Toronto, are etched by herself, and bear her autograph, "Anna." The same is to be observed of the illustrations in the English edition of her "Commonplace Book of Thoughts, Memories, and Fancies;" and in her larger volumes on various Art-subjects. She had super-eminently beautiful hands, which she always scrupulously guarded from contract with the outer air.

Mrs. Jameson was a connoisseur in "hands," as we gather from her Commonplace Book, just mentioned. She there says: "There are hands of various character; the hand to catch, and the hand to hold; the hand to clasp, and the hand to grasp; the hand that has worked, or could work, and the hand that has never done anything but hold itself out to be kissed, like that of Joanna of Arragon, in Raphael's picture." Her own appeared to belong to the last-named class.

Though the merest trifles, we may record here one or two further personal recollections of Mrs. Jameson; of her appreciation, for example, of a very obvious quotation from Horace, to be appended to a little sketch of her own, representing a child asleep, but in danger from a serpent near; and of her glad acceptance of an out-of-the-way scrap from the "Vanity of Arts and Sciences" of Cornelius Agrippa, which proved the antiquity of _charivaries_. "Do you not know that the intervention of a lady's hand is requisite to the finish of a young man's education?" was a suggestive question drawn forth by some youthful maladroitness. Another characteristic dictum, "Society is one vast masquerade of manners," is remembered, as having been probably at the time a new idea to ourselves in particular. The irrational conventionalities of society she persistently sought to counteract, by her words on suitable occasions, and by her example, especially in point of dress, which did not conform to the customs in vogue.

Among the local characters relished by Mrs. Jameson in Canada was Mr. Justice Hagerman, who added some of the bluntness of Samuel Johnson to the physique of Charles James Fox. She set a high value on his talents, although we have heard her, at once playfully and graphically, speak of him as "that great mastiff, Hagerman." From Mrs. Jameson we learned that "Gaytay" was a sufficient approximation in English to the pronunciation of "Goethe." She had been intimately acquainted with the poet at Weimar.

In the Kensington Museum there is a bust, exceedingly fine, of Mrs. Jameson, by the celebrated sculptor Gibson, executed by him, as the inscription speaks, "in her honour." The head and countenance are of course somewhat idealized; but the likeness is well retained. In the small Boston edition of the "Legends of the Madonna" there is an interesting portrait of Mrs. Jameson, giving her appearance when far advanced in years.

Westward from the house and grounds whose associations have detained us so long, the space that was known as the Government Common is now traversed from south to north by two streets. Their names possess some interest, the first of them being that of the Duke of Portland, Viceroy of Ireland, Colonial Secretary, and three times Prime Minister in the reign of George the Third; the other that of Earl Bathurst, Secretary for the Colonies in George the Fourth's time.

Eastward of Bathurst Street, in the direction of the military burying-ground, there was long marked out by a furrow in the sward the ground-plan of a church. In 1830, the military chaplain, Mr. Hudson, addressed to the commander of the forces a complaint "of the very great inconvenience to which the troops are exposed in having to march so far to the place of worship, particularly when the weather and roads are so unfavourable during a greater part of the year in this country, the distance from the Barracks to the Church being two miles:" adding, "In June last, the roads were in such a state as to prevent the Troops from attending Church for four successive Sundays." He then suggested "the propriety of erecting a chapel on the Government reserve for the accommodation of the Troops." The Horse Guards refused to undertake the erection of a chapel here, but made a donation of one thousand pounds towards the re-edification of St. James' Church, "on condition that accommodation should be permanently provided for His Majesty's Troops." The outline in the turf was a relic of Mr. Hudson's suggestion.

The line that defined the limit of the Government Common to the north and east, (and west, of course, likewise), prior to its division into building lots, was a portion of the circumference of a great circle, "of a radius of a 1,000 yards, more or less," whose centre was the Fort. On the old plans of York, acres of this great circle are traced, with two interior concentric arcs, of radii respectively of eight and five hundred yards.

We now soon arrive at the ravine of the "Garrison Creek." In the rivulet below, for some distance up the valley, before the clearing away of the woods, salmon used to be taken at certain seasons of the year. Crossing the stream, and ascending to the arched gateway of the fort, (we are speaking of it as it used to be), we pass between the strong iron-studded portals, which are thrown back: we pass a sentry just within the gate, and the guard-house on the left. At present we do not tarry within the enclosure of the Fort. We simply glance at the loopholed block-house on the one side, and the quarters of the men, the officers, and the commandant on the other; and we hurry across the gravelled area, recalling rapidly a series of spirit-stirring ordinal numbers--40th, 41st, 68th, 79th, 42nd, 15th, 32nd, 1st--each suggestive of a gallant assemblage at some time here; of a vigorous, finely disciplined, ready-aye-ready group, that, like the successive generations on the stage of human life, came and went just once, as it were--as the years rolled on, and the eye saw them again no more.

We pass on through the western gate to the large open green space which lies on the farther side. This is the Garrison Reserve. It bears the same relation to the modern Toronto and the ancient York as the Plains of Abraham do to Quebec. It was here that the struggle took place, in the olden time, that led to the capture of the town. In both cases the leader of the aggressive expedition "fell victorious." But the analogy holds no further; as, in the case of the inferior conquest, the successful power did not retain permanent possession.

The Wolfe's Cove--the landing-place of the invader--on the occasion referred to, was just within the curve of the Humber Bay, far to the west, where Queen Street now skirts the beach for a short distance and then emerges on it. The intention had been to land more to the eastward, but the vessels containing the hostile force were driven westward by the winds.

The debarkation was opposed by a handful of Indians, under Major Givins. The Glengary Fencibles had been despatched to aid in this service, but, attempting to approach the spot by a back road, they lost their way. A tradition exists that the name of the Grenadier's Pond, a lagoon a little to the west, one of the ancient outlets of the waters of the Humber, is connected with the disastrous bewilderment of a party of the regular troops at this critical period. It is at the same time asserted that the name "Grenadier's Pond" was familiar previously. At length companies of the Eighth Regiment, of the Royal Newfoundland Regiment, and of Incorporated Militia, made their appearance on the ground, and disputed the progress inland of the enemy. After suffering severely, they retired towards the Fort. This was the existing Fort. The result is now matter of history, and need not be detailed. As portions of the cliff have fallen away from time to time along the shore here, numerous skeletons have been exposed to view, relics of friend and foe slain on the adjacent common, where, also, military ornaments and fragments of fire-arms, used frequently to be dug up. Some of the bones referred to, however, may have been remains of early French and Indian traders.