Fenianism—A claimant for my father’s farm—A scare at Port Oshawa—Guns, forks and clubs for fighting—Awkward squad—Guard catch a young man out courting—The Fenian raid of 1866—A Catholic priest taken prisoner—United States Government at last cries “Stop!”—Adventure in high life—A youth runs away from home—Tragic death of the mother of the runaway—Marries the serving-maid—Wedding and funeral journey in one.
Fenianism—A claimant for my father’s farm—A scare at Port Oshawa—Guns, forks and clubs for fighting—Awkward squad—Guard catch a young man out courting—The Fenian raid of 1866—A Catholic priest taken prisoner—United States Government at last cries “Stop!”—Adventure in high life—A youth runs away from home—Tragic death of the mother of the runaway—Marries the serving-maid—Wedding and funeral journey in one.
“In peace, Love tunes the shepherd’s reed;In war, he mounts the warrior’s steed;In halls, in gay attire is seen;In hamlets, dances on the green.Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,And men below, and saints above;For Love is heaven, and heaven is Love.”
“In peace, Love tunes the shepherd’s reed;In war, he mounts the warrior’s steed;In halls, in gay attire is seen;In hamlets, dances on the green.Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,And men below, and saints above;For Love is heaven, and heaven is Love.”
“In peace, Love tunes the shepherd’s reed;In war, he mounts the warrior’s steed;In halls, in gay attire is seen;In hamlets, dances on the green.Love rules the court, the camp, the grove,And men below, and saints above;For Love is heaven, and heaven is Love.”
FENIANISM at first did not attract much attention. In 1865 rumors continually reached us of head centres, drillings, armings, massings, and other notes of warlike preparations among United States Fenians. Our Government had spies promptly among them. Clever fellows they were, who entered the lodges and wormed out all their secrets.
As the days went by and the rumors increased, gathering force by repetition and transmission, our people began to feel alarmed. There were very few sympathizers in Canada, but, preposterous as it may seem, there were some, and certain of these, more valiant and outspoken than others, talked of what they would do when the Fenians did come. Con. Lyons, of Oshawa, a respectable man, working for his livelihood, made no secret of saying he had chosen my father’s homestead farm as his share in the prospective division of property taken by the Fenian invaders. Timorous people became very nervous, and “the Fenians” were the topic of the day.
Neighbors gathered nightly in each other’s houses, and debated over the prospects, conjecturing and planning what they would do with their horses and stock when the invaders landed. To run them off into the forests seemed to be the general solution of that difficulty met in advance by those who feared even the very next breeze from the south might bring in a shipload of Fenians from the United States to occupy this part of Ontario. Persons residing near the shore of Lake Ontario began to watch for strange craft. The excitement was too tense to be kept up long. Something must occur to quiet it down.
On the hot misty evening of June 26th, 1865, someone about Port Oshawa saw the spars of a ship just
CANADIAN REBELLION, 1837-8. REFUGEES FROZEN IN AT OSWEGO, N.Y.BARCLAY, CLARK & CO. LITHO. TORONTO
CANADIAN REBELLION, 1837-8. REFUGEES FROZEN IN AT OSWEGO, N.Y.BARCLAY, CLARK & CO. LITHO. TORONTO
CANADIAN REBELLION, 1837-8. REFUGEES FROZEN IN AT OSWEGO, N.Y.
BARCLAY, CLARK & CO. LITHO. TORONTO
out from the shore, as if of a vessel at anchor. Anon the ship’s yawl could be faintly descried making for the shore. The evening was very still, and through the mist the ear helped the eye, as it were, as the sound of oars in the row-locks could be distinctly heard. This regular “swish” and “thud” of rowers in unison came to startled ears.
It was enough. A young man got a horse and rode for sweet life to Oshawa, three miles away, calling aloud as he rode, “They have landed! they have landed!”
Yet not all who had previously gathered at each other’s houses were within hearing of the dreadful tidings of the landing. One Cumberland man went to his neighbor’s door at midnight, knocked and called out, “John, the Fenians have a’ com’d!”
In Oshawa town the consternation was too great and genuine to be ludicrous, at least just then. Not a few persons loaded waggons with all they could put on them, and climbing to the top of the furniture and bedding drove away northward. “No Fenians should catch us!”
We were all summoned by the Colonel, John McGill, to assemble at the town hall. My father shouldered his double-barrelled fowling-piece, and I grasped a green “shillelah” in default of a gun, and repaired with many others to the rendezvous. Theillustration atpage 236is of the “awkward squad” who thus mustered in valiant defence of their native town.
It should not, however, be viewed with too critical an eye. Remember we were all summoned at five minutes’ notice, no time being given even to change our clothes. Every second the Fenians were expected to march up Simcoe Street from Port Oshawa.
We prepared to march—men with guns in front, those with forks next, and those with clubs in the rear. There were, however, many in the town who did not prepare to march, but who ran and hid, fancying “one live coward is worth two dead heroes.” Men, somehow, were rather scarce there just then. We stood upon our arms, forks and clubs, waiting for the word—which was never given.
Another horseman came from Port Oshawa, and told us a boat’s crew had come ashore for milk and provisions, as well as to get their reckoning, not knowing where they were. Inoffensive fellows enough, but they deserved a drubbing for giving us needless alarm.
This state of feeling or tension was not confined to our neighborhood, but was common to the country generally.
Finding there was no immediate attack imminent, our courage began to rise, and we in that town hall,resting upon our arms or clubs, became anxious to “wipe out” the enemy. Night patrols were set—first night, men with guns; next night, those who had forks borrowed the guns; next, club-men took their turn.
My father, always somewhat of a wag, arrested a young man about eleven o’clock at night by threatening to fire if he did not halt. He halted. It was young Allen, whom my father knew well. He begged hard to be let off, but that could not be permitted unless he explained why he was out so late. “I have just been over to Mr. Cinnamon’s to see his daughter. Please let me go.” “Well, don’t you be caught out so late again courting,” and he was let off for the time. In a few nights the watch was discontinued. But no Fenians came that year.
The following year, 1866, they came and, landing, raided the shore of Lake Erie, and the battle at Ridgeway was the result. There a number of the militia who were called out to defend the country, many of them mere lads, were killed. Others died later from the effects of the over-exertion and excitement. Among the former was young Willie Tempest, from Oshawa, a Trinity College (Toronto), student, who went to the front with his company in the Queen’s Own Rifles.
The indignation and patriotic excitement throughout the country proved to the invaders and any sympathizers with them within our borders that Canadians were loyal to their own Government and would not suffer invasion of their soil.
Called to a knowledge of the breach of national law in allowing the arming of a hostile force within her territory, the United States Government gave the necessary orders to her officials. This, following the ill-success of the raid, put a stop to active Fenianism on our western boundary line for the time.
A second somewhat similar attempt was even more quickly repulsed at Eccles’ Hill, in the Eastern Townships, Quebec, in 1870.
Among the prisoners taken at Ridgeway was a young Catholic priest. He was lodged in the Penitentiary at Kingston for being caught in such bad company. At first it was thought we would keep him there, but as time passed and the excitement against those who had caused the loss of our men cooled, sorrow for the unfortunate misguided young father softened our hearts. The prison doors were opened, he was bidden depart and be seen no more in our land. He said he would not, and I believe he has kept his word faithfully.
“Born with a silver spoon in his mouth” is a very laconic way Canadians have of expressing the case ofa child born of rich parents. The young man of the following sketch was the only son and probable heir to riches, both on the father’s and mother’s side. He had a sister, it is true, who would likely inherit a proportion of the family wealth. In that respect Canadians are like the people of the British Isles, who do not intend the daughters to share equally with the sons. Among our American cousins they have broken off from the old traditions, and the girls inherit equally with the boys.
Unfortunately for this youth he did not get on well with his father, nor did he shine very brilliantly at school, but through all he was ever the mother’s favorite.
After the completion of the Canadian Pacific Rail-wax-many of the young men of the older Provinces were disposed to try their luck in British Columbia. Among such adventurers were two lads of the same town, and schoolmates of this young man. This fact probably fired his ambition, for in midwinter these two boys were joined by the young heir. Together they ran away, going direct to Golden, a point on the new line of railway in British Columbia. His mother had provided him with some funds, else they had found it difficult to survive through the approaching winter. Arrived at Golden, they secured a tent and lived in it when the mercury registered 20° (Fah.) below zero.It is very evident the lad had good “grit,” as is said in America, to thus come straight from luxury to live and lodge with nothing between him and that awful cold but a little cotton web.
On the ice breaking up in the spring the three runaways secured a strong row-boat and ascended the Columbia River six days’ journey, voyaging by day and camping by night upon the shore. At their journey’s end they bought a ranch, built a cabin on it, and took up housekeeping, each one in turn being cook. Thus two seasons passed away, and no word was sent home direct to the parents of our youth. They had heard of him only indirectly through the parents of the two other runaways.
The mother, though surrounded by luxury and comfort, with every wish gratified, could no longer endure the separation, so she determined to go and see that erring son, even if at the risk of her life, for she was a woman whose health was uncertain and had been so for some years. First, she had a Peterboro’ cedar canoe built, capable of easily carrying five persons, and had it shipped by Canadian Pacific Railway to Golden, B.C., the objective point from which the son had set out.
Taking her uncle as an escort, and her maid, she set out on the fatiguing journey. Arrived at Golden, she took possession of the boat and provisioned it forthe voyage up the Columbia. Camping at night with nothing but the blue canopy of heaven for a covering, they reached the ranch at last. Then an unlooked-for thing occurred. The young runaway laid siege to the serving-maid’s heart, and was determined to marry her. In her precarious state of health, however, the mother, not approving of the match, refused, and said she needed the girl to take care of her. After a stay of some three weeks with her son at the ranch (where the runaways were ostensibly raising horses), the mother and her party returned to Golden, finding the journey down stream comparatively easy. From Golden they made their way to Victoria, and thence by sea to San Francisco, proceeding then to Santa Barbara, Southern California. The mother hoped the mild climate would restore her health. She occupied tasteful quarters, and for a time her health improved. She was able to enjoy the flowers and out-of-door life and pleasures. In Southern California their midwinter days are days of sunshine; picnics and such pastimes are truly enjoyable. She was not, however, to enjoy them long, for death came very suddenly and without a moment’s warning.
When the tidings of her death reached the son, he came at once that he might convey the remains to the home in Ontario. Meeting the maid again, andforgetful of his mother’s wishes, he married her, and took her with him to his old home. Truly a strange journey, his bride with him, and his mother’s dead body in the baggage car on the same train. From his mother the lad inherited tens of thousands of dollars, and is probably heir to many more.
The French in Upper Canada—Sir Wilfrid Laurier—Voyageurs and their songs—“A la Claire Fontaine”—Money-lenders—Educational matters—Expatriated Canadians—Successful railway speculation—A shrewd banker.
The French in Upper Canada—Sir Wilfrid Laurier—Voyageurs and their songs—“A la Claire Fontaine”—Money-lenders—Educational matters—Expatriated Canadians—Successful railway speculation—A shrewd banker.
“Such is the patriot’s boast, where’er we roam,His first, best country ever is at home.”—Goldsmith, “The Traveller.”
“Such is the patriot’s boast, where’er we roam,His first, best country ever is at home.”—Goldsmith, “The Traveller.”
“Such is the patriot’s boast, where’er we roam,His first, best country ever is at home.”—Goldsmith, “The Traveller.”
ALTHOUGH Upper Canada is essentially an English-speaking province, there are many settlements throughout its wide area composed of other nationalities, emigrants from European nations, who have founded colonies within its borders. Quebec is more French, it being the old Canada, or New France, and in it the two languages are equally spoken. Still, although there are not noticeably many French in the Upper Province, there are small groups of them here and there, chiefly among the laboring classes.
The most picturesque figure in Canada to-day is Sir Wilfrid Laurier, and as Premier of the Dominion we may claim him as belonging to us in Ontario as well as to his native Province of Quebec. The son ofa provincial land surveyor, he is a man of finished culture and education, whose eloquence is as fluently expressed in one language as in the other. After taking a full classical course at L’Assomption College, he studied law, took the degree of B.C.L. at McGill College, Montreal, was for a time editor of a prominent and influential Lower Canadian journal, later became well known as a powerful and skilful counsel in both civil and criminal cases, and was created a Q.C. in 1880.
He came into politics as an associate of Dorion, Laflamme and others of the old Liberal school in Lower Canada; later has called himself a Liberal of the English school, a pupil of Charles Fox and Daniel O’Connell. His débût in the Legislature of Lower Canada created a sensation, “not more by the finished grace of his oratorical abilities than by the boldness and authority with which he handled the deepest political problems.” The effect of his “fluent, cultured and charming discourse” is described by the poet Frechette as “magical.” The brilliant Frenchman, who is yet so proud of his country and of being a British subject, who has been honored and received by Her Imperial Majesty the Queen, decorated with the ribbon of the Legion of Honor by France, and given audience in the Vatican by the Pope, has taken a stand in Canada and wielded aninfluence for good government, broad statesmanship and a wide-reaching Imperial policy that falls to the lot of few men to have the opportunity given them, and to still fewer the ability to grasp when the opportunity arrives.
The denunciation of the treaties between Great Britain and Germany and Belgium are the result of his efforts to clear the way to securing preferential trade between the mother-country and her colonies. “For this and the marvellous goal to which it leads,” said the LondonTimes, “Laurier’s name must live in the annals of the British Empire.”
Both the French and English languages are spoken by the ministers of the Crown, and it is to be regretted that Upper Canadians are not more sensible of the value of possessing a knowledge of two languages. Many are, of course, taught the French as an accomplishment, but few can speak it fluently. In Lower Canada, where both languages are spoken and required in business, the knowledge is more appreciated.
The French habitants or peasants are a merry, contented, laughter-loving, light-hearted people. The men spend the winters in the woods or timber limits, felling the timber, hewing the great logs or drawing them by the aid of horses or oxen to the surface of the frozen rivers, and the summers in “driving” the logs, enclosing them in the booms (logs with endsfastened together by chains to form a barrier or enclosure for the loose floating logs), and in taking the great rafts down the St. Lawrence to Quebec. Many a river shore in Upper Canada re-echoes the songs of the French-Canadian lumberman or voyageur in the twilight of a summer evening. They are men of fine physique and many have strong sweet musical voices. The songs, with the accompaniment of the lap of the water, the rhythmic sound of oar or paddle, the soft breeze swaying the trees, and the murmur of the distant rapid or waterfall, are among the things to be enjoyed.
“La Claire Fontaine” is one of the favorite songs of these men. I append here a translation, which robs it to some extent of its lightsome character. The repetition of the last two lines in the verse as the first two of the following is characteristic of several of the best known of thesechansons, and adds much to their popularity.
Unto the crystal fountainFor pleasure did I stray;So fair I found the waters,My limbs in them I lay.Long is it I have loved thee,Thee shall I love alway,My dearest.So fair I found the waters,My limbs in them I lay;Beneath an oak tree resting,I heard a roundelay.Long is it, etc.Beneath an oak tree resting,I heard a roundelay;The nightingale was singingOn the oak tree’s topmost spray.Long is it, etc.The nightingale was singingOn the oak tree’s topmost spray—Sing, nightingale, keep singing,Thou who hast heart so gay!Long is it, etc.Sing, nightingale, keep singing,Thou hast a heart so gay!Thou hast a heart so merry,While mine is sorrow’s prey.Long is it, etc.Thou hast a heart so merryWhile mine is sorrow’s prey,For I have lost my mistress,Flown from her love away.Long is it, etc.For I have lost my mistress,Flown from her love away;All for a bunch of roses,Whereof I said her nay.Long is it, etc.All for a bunch of roses,Whereof I said her nay;I would those luckless rosesWere on their bush to-day.Long is it, etc.I would those luckless rosesWere on their bush to-day,And that itself, the rosebush,Were plunged in ocean’s spray;Long is it I have loved thee,Thee shall I love alway.My dearest.
Unto the crystal fountainFor pleasure did I stray;So fair I found the waters,My limbs in them I lay.Long is it I have loved thee,Thee shall I love alway,My dearest.So fair I found the waters,My limbs in them I lay;Beneath an oak tree resting,I heard a roundelay.Long is it, etc.Beneath an oak tree resting,I heard a roundelay;The nightingale was singingOn the oak tree’s topmost spray.Long is it, etc.The nightingale was singingOn the oak tree’s topmost spray—Sing, nightingale, keep singing,Thou who hast heart so gay!Long is it, etc.Sing, nightingale, keep singing,Thou hast a heart so gay!Thou hast a heart so merry,While mine is sorrow’s prey.Long is it, etc.Thou hast a heart so merryWhile mine is sorrow’s prey,For I have lost my mistress,Flown from her love away.Long is it, etc.For I have lost my mistress,Flown from her love away;All for a bunch of roses,Whereof I said her nay.Long is it, etc.All for a bunch of roses,Whereof I said her nay;I would those luckless rosesWere on their bush to-day.Long is it, etc.I would those luckless rosesWere on their bush to-day,And that itself, the rosebush,Were plunged in ocean’s spray;Long is it I have loved thee,Thee shall I love alway.My dearest.
Unto the crystal fountainFor pleasure did I stray;So fair I found the waters,My limbs in them I lay.Long is it I have loved thee,Thee shall I love alway,My dearest.
So fair I found the waters,My limbs in them I lay;Beneath an oak tree resting,I heard a roundelay.Long is it, etc.
Beneath an oak tree resting,I heard a roundelay;The nightingale was singingOn the oak tree’s topmost spray.Long is it, etc.
The nightingale was singingOn the oak tree’s topmost spray—Sing, nightingale, keep singing,Thou who hast heart so gay!Long is it, etc.
Sing, nightingale, keep singing,Thou hast a heart so gay!Thou hast a heart so merry,While mine is sorrow’s prey.Long is it, etc.
Thou hast a heart so merryWhile mine is sorrow’s prey,For I have lost my mistress,Flown from her love away.Long is it, etc.
For I have lost my mistress,Flown from her love away;All for a bunch of roses,Whereof I said her nay.Long is it, etc.
All for a bunch of roses,Whereof I said her nay;I would those luckless rosesWere on their bush to-day.Long is it, etc.
I would those luckless rosesWere on their bush to-day,And that itself, the rosebush,Were plunged in ocean’s spray;Long is it I have loved thee,Thee shall I love alway.My dearest.
There were many money-lenders in Upper Canada. When I say money-lenders, I mean the men who will do no business, own scarcely any real estate, and make no improvements in the land, but simply sit still and lend their money at interest. I will sketch one who, while young, came to a certain township in Ontario. He is now an old man, and still a resident of the same locality. He brought from England with him about $1,000, and with it bought fifty acres of good land. These acres he farmed and resided on for some years, and succeeded well as a farmer. During the Russian war times and the building of the Grand Trunk Railway, inflation pervaded almost every walk of life. Then he sold his small farm for $120 per acre, or $6,000, and lived in a small rented house.
CANADIAN REBELLION, 1837-8. REFUGEE CROSSES LAKE ONTARIO IN A CANOE, WITH THE PROW ROTTED AWAY.BARCLAY, CLARK & CO. LITHO. TORONTO
CANADIAN REBELLION, 1837-8. REFUGEE CROSSES LAKE ONTARIO IN A CANOE, WITH THE PROW ROTTED AWAY.BARCLAY, CLARK & CO. LITHO. TORONTO
CANADIAN REBELLION, 1837-8. REFUGEE CROSSES LAKE ONTARIO IN A CANOE, WITH THE PROW ROTTED AWAY.
BARCLAY, CLARK & CO. LITHO. TORONTO
This money and the accumulated earnings of years he lent to his neighbors at a maximum rate of twelve per cent., with discounts and drawbacks and many other dark and mysterious ways of figuring—so mysterious, indeed, that in many instances the loans netted him twenty to twenty-five per cent. per annum. Thus year by year he added to his capital, eventually becoming a very rich man; and though the rates for loans have now dropped down to five per cent., his money has kept on drawing big pay—never stopped. Floods, disasters, deaths, fires—nothing seemed to stand in the way of the steady tick of interest and accumulated wealth. To-day he is a very old man, worth his hundreds of thousands. Pleasures of social intercourse, books, papers, travel, and the little elegances which go to make up life, have always been absent, but the gold has been hoarded. He is only a type of many of the money-lenders of our Province. Such men do not buy estates, nor make homes, nor do anything to improve our country.
An anecdote to illustrate: My father said just after the close of the Canadian rebellion of 1837-38 he had built a new ship and launched her upon Lake Ontario. And now rigging, shrouds, sails, anchors, cables, and outfit generally must be had before she could sail. Ready money after that domestic, or rather civil, disturbance was difficult to obtain. Theoutfit, however, must be had, for freights were high, and there was money to be made. To J—H—, he went, living not far from Whitby, and told him what he wanted. H—readily accompanied my father to Toronto, went with him to Rice Lewis, who kept such vessel outfits, and asked him to give my father what he might need on his account. My father got £150 (Halifax) worth, and gave his note to H—, at six months, for £200 (Halifax) for the loan. You will readily see what money-lenders demanded and obtained for their capital. It is only fair to complete the story and say that my father found no fault with J—H—, for although then himself abundantly able to raise any reasonable sum, he could not wait to do so. Two trips of the ship, when once rigged out, paid the loan, principal and interest, and all parties were satisfied.
The question has often occurred to me, why, as a rule, the wealth secured by money-lending has not been long retained. As I cast my eye over the country to-day, I find very few money-lenders’ families who have much of their parents’ funds. I am not a fatalist, but I freely say that it does not seem to be the case that money-lending, pursued as a business at extortionate rates, does beget prosperity for those who follow. I am sorry to say that a like remark would apply to the families of many of our pioneers.Very few of the farms left by the pioneers to their sons are to-day in their hands. That they got a living too easily would be the apparent cause, but not because of anything derogatory (as in the case of the money-lenders) in their father’s business.
We have gone from one extreme to the opposite, and very far opposite, in educational matters. To-day our school tax hangs heaviest about our necks, so very many of our young men and women are learning Latin, Greek and French. John Quincy Adams said over a century ago, “When a boy gets to conjugating Latin verbs he will not dig any more ditches.” We do not know why it should be so, but it would appear generally to be true. Again, there is a tendency among our young women not to entertain matrimonial ideas, but to try to be wholly independent of the sterner sex.
Our young women go off to some training hospital, get a diploma after three years’ voluntary service, and set up as trained nurses. As such, when they get employment, they make from ten to twenty-five dollars per week, with their board and lodging. There is no manner of doubt but these nurses are exceedingly useful in the sick chamber. More of our young women, too, become telegraph operators, type-writers, ticket sellers and stenographers, all very much detrimental to woman’s proper sphere as the “queen of the home” and the wife of a faithful husband.
Chicago, Ill., alone contains one hundred thousand Canadians. In our very, very free schools and colleges we educate young men and women by the tens of thousands, very many of whom, as in the case of those in Chicago, leave us for the United States. Such expatriated young men and women are lost to us forever after, much to our sorrow.
In a former chapter it is said that our two great railways in Canada—the Grand Trunk and the Canadian Pacific—were built by capitalists. While that remark is quite true, let us look about a moment and see how some of these large fortunes have been made at a stroke. Here is an instance: A manager of a Canadian bank, which commands many millions of dollars of capital, was once a Hudson’s Bay Company factor. Well, one day a brother Hudson’s Bay factor, happening to be in St. Paul, Minnesota, discovered that the St. Paul and Manitoba Railway, which ran from St. Paul to the boundary line, was at low ebb—that is, its stock was selling at exceedingly low prices. On arriving in Montreal he reported this to the bank manager. They then borrowed some five millions of dollars from the bank, and the ex-Hudson’s Bay factor made his way to New York.On the open stock market he and his brokers bought all the St. Paul and Manitoba railway stock in sight, at an almost ridiculously low figure. Back to Montreal he came, and then a railway from Winnipeg to the boundary line, to meet the St. Paul and Manitoba railway, was proposed and arranged. Such news naturally quickly spread, and the St. Paul and Manitoba railway stock became in immediate demand. The quotation went up higher, began to boom, got to par, and soon went away beyond, netting some millions of dollars for both the factor and the bank manager. To repay the bank loan was a very easy matter, and everybody was happy. Such cases are, however, rare in Canada. Canadians are a slower, surer-going people, without the “slap-dash” of their American cousins, though now and again they will take some chances. An incident will serve to show this:
At one time when gold in New York was at a premium, the manager of a wealthy Canadian bank went to New York and bought all the gold that was offered. A steamer was about sailing for Europe. Publicly this gold in kegs, as is the usual manner, was carted from the banks to the steamer. Gold went up and up, for there was none in sight. It was apparently all gone. Next morning the astute banker began to sell gold in small lots, and gradually allowedhimself to be cleaned out. How did he get the gold? Why, easily enough. Not a keg went on board the out-going steamer. Every one was returned by unfrequented streets, and safely lodged in the vaults. New York was tricked and mad. But the manager made his money—away up in the hundreds of thousands. There was no risk, in fact, for the bank was and is still one of the soundest and strongest financial institutions in this country. So much for the speculative side of Canadians.
ASSASSINATION OF AUTHOR’S GRANDFATHER. CANADIAN REBELLION, 1837-8.BARCLAY, CLARK & CO. LITHO. TORONTO
ASSASSINATION OF AUTHOR’S GRANDFATHER. CANADIAN REBELLION, 1837-8.BARCLAY, CLARK & CO. LITHO. TORONTO
ASSASSINATION OF AUTHOR’S GRANDFATHER. CANADIAN REBELLION, 1837-8.
BARCLAY, CLARK & CO. LITHO. TORONTO
Poor-tax—Poor-houses undesirable—The tramp nuisance—A tramp’s story—Mistaken charity—Office seekers—Election incidents.
Poor-tax—Poor-houses undesirable—The tramp nuisance—A tramp’s story—Mistaken charity—Office seekers—Election incidents.
“The owlet loves the gloom of night,The lark salutes the day,The timid dove will coo at hand,But falcons soar away.”
“The owlet loves the gloom of night,The lark salutes the day,The timid dove will coo at hand,But falcons soar away.”
“The owlet loves the gloom of night,The lark salutes the day,The timid dove will coo at hand,But falcons soar away.”
THE burdensome tax which the people of England pay for the support of the poor we know nothing of in Canada. True, we have a poor-rate, but it sits so lightly upon us we do not heed it very much. For example, in the rural township of East Whitby, in the county of Ontario, there is a population of three thousand. The township is assessed at one and one-half million dollars. Among these people an annual tax is levied of about $8,000; for the poor, $400 out of the total tax levied. There is no poor-house in this locality. The really deserving poor are given an allowance of money weekly fortheir maintenance—what would be called “out-door relief” in England. It is not to be supposed this sum is ample for all relief, but in this land of greatest abundance the people give and give liberally, and no further charge is made upon the authorities. Again, we take the ground that when food is cheap and fuel plentiful scarcely any should be so poor as to be unable to support themselves, where the opportunities have always been sufficient to enable all to earn enough from which to save a small competency. There are, of a truth, cases of unfortunate and honest poverty, and such we do not demur at relieving. Unfortunately, however, in Canada, as in the United States, people will congregate in towns and cities and be hard pressed to gain a livelihood, when they should be upon the farms in the country as tenants or as owners. It is not difficult to become the latter, for the Government of Ontario is supplying homesteads to all applicants on very easy terms. For the lazy, however, it is easier to walk about paved, electric-lighted streets, and drink water supplied by costly waterworks systems brought to their doors, than to work and clear the soil. Hence the assertion that there should be no tramps in Canada is not without tangible foundation.
It has been a mooted question in Canada whether we ought to erect county poor-houses for the careand provision of the poor and infirm, or leave such matters to the ordinary township councils to deal with. In a land of plenty like ours, where there is abundance of food and constant demand for work-people, there should be no need for such persons to become a charge upon the bounty of the public; and it is absolutely certain that if we erect poor-houses there will always be poor to fill them. Such a class of population will come to us, if not already here, and having provided a place for them in the erection of poor-houses, we shall never get rid of them.
There are, of course, objects of charity scattered throughout the country, but they bear an infinitesimal proportion to the whole population, and can be provided for at small cost to the local community. In a country where everyone who will can provide for an inclement season or against the needs of age and infirmity, it becomes a very serious question whether the hard-working and thrifty ought to be taxed to provide for the lazy and thriftless. Or again, is it wise to foster the growth of a class of persons whose filth and foul diseases are the result of laziness and their own vices? Charity rightly bestowed is the very essence of man’s best nature, but I do not think it charity to give indiscriminately to those asking alms.
The genus tramp has developed only lately among us. Prior to the American war no such stamp of manexisted in Canada. To-day he is here, and apparently here to stay; but as there is no possible excuse for these fellows begging through the country, it is not charity to give them money or clothes, or even food. The following is a case in point:
An old fellow residing in Scarboro’, who owns a comfortable house and lot, leaves home in the spring, clothed in rags, for an all summer’s begging tour. He goes from house to house, and says he can make more by it than he can by working. From the result of his summer’s begging he can and does live in comfort during the winter at home. And those who give to that man do a positive harm to our country by encouraging vagrancy.
Last winter a clergyman wrote me from the neighborhood of Peterboro’, saying that a colored man who was begging about the country from door to door had exhibited a paper declaring him to be a worthy object of charity, and purporting to have my name attached as a guarantee of good faith. This generous and gentlemanly clergyman wrote me that he had his doubts about the genuineness of the man’s need, for he found he had been drunk. By telegram I repudiated the man and his paper, and asked for his arrest. Persons who gave to that man committed an injury to our country, and not an act of charity. I am only mentioning this case as anillustration. Perhaps a good many of us may not yet know or realize the fact that many tramps in our Province are using the names of prominent or well-known citizens to help them to defraud the public. It is just as well for gentlemen to know, if their names have been brought considerably before the public, that in many instances these are used without their knowledge by tramps to further their impostures. Tramps have indeed called upon me, exhibiting what purported to be “a recommend” signed by one or more of Toronto’s prominent citizens, when I knew at a glance that such signatures were forgeries. The proper plan would be to have them arrested, but no one individual wants to fight the battles for the general public, and usually these fellows get off.
From the last tramp who honored me with a call I wormed out his story. He was a strong, hearty, broad-shouldered young man of twenty-eight or so, born in Ontario, the son of assisted immigrants. During the past summer he had worked for a couple of months in a brickyard near Toronto. His wages were $1.50 per day, but the proprietor, according to his rules, kept back one-third until the end of the season, when this, too, would be paid in a lump sum along with the last week’s pay. “But I could not stand that, you know,” the tramp said. He must have his money, all of it weekly, or quit. And quit he did,for he could not subsist on the single dollar a day and buy his whiskey! Until the following winter he simply “bummed” around the city, spending the balance of his brickyard money. As winter came on he made his way to Ottawa and Pembroke—just how did not appear quite clear. He worked about Pembroke in the lumber woods for a couple of months; was discharged because he would not be driven by the gang boss nor be ordered to keep up; bought a C.P.R. ticket for Toronto, but before setting out must have a few drinks. Took a few glasses, and then a few more, and fell into oblivion. Next morning he awoke in a hotel stable, minus his railway ticket and $25 which he had in his pocket, and then he had no resource but to tramp it back to Toronto. He had no difficulty, for any of the farmers would feed him and keep him overnight, so that it was just a question of slow marching with him from house to house, with a full stomach and a stop whenever cold. But as he got nearer Toronto he found the farmers not so hospitable; they refused generally to feed him, and invariably declined to lodge him. He said those near Toronto had been called upon by so many tramps that they had become wise, and no longer considered it charity to give to tramps. In a small village near Toronto, overtaken by night, he could find no refuge, and had to apply to the villageconstable to be confined in the ordinary lock-up. In this he was accommodated. But the constable did not relish the idea of sitting up all night for any such specimen of humanity, and so left him alone in the lock-up, where there was a stove and supply of wood. The night was cold, and the tramp fired up himself. On leaving him the constable had cautioned him to be careful of fire, and the tramp said that he was only careful for fear that he might get burnt himself. The lock-up stood beside other buildings, and had he set it on fire a good part of the village must have been consumed. Thus was this village placed in great jeopardy on account of this worthless fellow who became a charge upon them for the night, and the whole community thereabout was in great danger of losing many thousands of dollars worth of property, and possibly precious human life, by this wretched scamp, who was too lazy to work in summer and too fond of whiskey to keep him off the road in winter. Now if there be any charity in giving to such persons, I fail to see it. If we construct county poor-houses just such fellows will want to get into them. There is no excuse for any such persons. In the summer they can easily earn sufficient money to keep them during the winter if they will. In this tramp’s case he could have earned good money in the winter if he chose. He said he would get on to Toronto, and if nothing turned uphe would go on west towards Woodstock and about Berlin, for the tramping fraternity told him that the German farmers thereabout have big barns and cellars and great abundance, and feed all tramps. In case they would not feed or lodge him readily, he said most of those about Berlin possessed stone base stables, which were always warm, and that he could sleep as warm in them as he could in the house.
Here is a great danger—greater in fact than the risk which the people ran when the tramp was in the village lock-up all by himself with a red-hot stove. During the summer these idle vagabonds go about the country in twos and threes, and camp at night in barns and stacks. No one ever saw a tramp yet who did not smoke. Lodging in a barn or stack is to him no valid reason why he should not indulge in his pipe. Consequently, many barns are burned throughout our country, and the only explanation ever given for such fires is simply “tramps.” This tramp nuisance is one of the growing evils in our Province, and it is just as well to stamp it out now, before it gets greater, by absolutely refusing to give aid. If we build county poor-houses, our poor-rates will go up, and no one ever heard of such rates coming down if once put on. The British farmer to-day is ground down with poor-rates, but perhaps in densely populated England there may be an excuse for such rates.With us there is not, then let us not have them. Giving to tramps is fostering a lazy, whiskey-drinking, shiftless class, who beg because it is easier than to work. Indiscriminate giving is worse than not giving at all. Let us generally, throughout rural Ontario, take warning and look closely to our charities, and see that they are rightly bestowed. Let us stamp out this tramp nuisance before it becomes fixed. If there be worthy objects of charity in our midst, I know I am safe in asserting that the big hearts of Canadians will relieve them, and there is always the township council to fall back upon in any event.
There is another class of persons in Canada who are always in search of “the loaves and fishes” in the shape of public offices. At first sight these persons would not appear to be numerous, but there are a very great many of them in various capacities—many offices, no doubt, created for the men, and many of them, too, of no adequate good to the community. As a class these persons will bear well a comparison with the turtle—opening their eyes and sitting in the sun, Micawber-like, “waiting for something to turn up.” Our labors to bring our young country to the fore they do not share in. They “toil not, neither do they spin,” notwithstanding they are always well arrayed. Manifestly a certain number of public servants are necessary, but thegeneral feeling is that there are two where one would be enough. More, when these public servants once get foisted upon us we can never get rid of them. “Superannuated” is the political term; but they get pay until the grave opens for them.
Whatever other faults Canadians may have, they are certainly willing, with all possible alacrity, to serve their countrymen in the way of filling offices, small or more important, throughout the country. At the time of the municipal elections the aspirants for municipal honors come to the front in shoals. This particular feature of our people is, in a way, highly commendable. And yet one cannot cease to wonder at the immense number of persons in any community in Canada who are willing to sacrifice (?) themselves for the public good (?).
It is held by patriots and sages that it is a citizen’s duty to serve the public wherever his services are required, whether it be in the tented field or in the civic chair. So far as the matter of the civic chair is concerned, many of us—and the writer among the number—are quite content to let those who are so supremely anxious to serve their fellows have the offices as long as they can fulfil the duties fairly well.
Unquestionably, the public have a right to theindividual’s services, but until the public really need them I hold it not to be a real neglect of one’s duty to let those who are so very anxious to serve do so, so long as they serve well and without public pay. The public will seek out the individual if they really require his aid. When Rome was in her palmiest days Cincinnatus was made consul, and received all the honors the Roman people could confer upon him. When his consulship had expired he retired to his farm beyond the Tiber, and went to cultivating the soil with his own hands. About 458 B.C., while engaged, it is said, ploughing in his field, five horsemen galloped up and informed him that he had been elected Dictator of that mighty empire republic—Rome. He left his plough and put on once more the royal purple.
George Washington, upon resigning his commission to Congress at the close of the war of the Revolution, retired to his lands at Mount Vernon on the Potomac, and is credited with having said, “I’d rather be among my fields at Mount Vernon than be emperor of the world.”
As might be supposed, there are often curious incidents and characters which appear in this connection. We have scarcely a county—I had almost said township—in which there is not the history of some one or other eventful election or polling day.
All sorts of objections are raised to throw doubt upon the suitability of each candidate by his opponent in politics or rival in local popularity, each side waxing eloquent in favor of its own man, or even resorting to means that are in some degree beyond the limits of wit or repartee to confound the tactics of the opposition candidate. In a recent contest a meeting called in the interests of one side by invitation cards was packed by their opponents through the medium of a card, a fac-simile in all except the hour, which, being a few minutes earlier than thebona fideinvitation enabled the holders to secure the seats in advance and in good order. The old-time stories of two-thirds of the “free and independent electors” going to the poll on crutches that later they might be used as shillelahs, with broken heads as the result, are not more absurd than some of the stories of incidents in the back-country contests for municipal honors at the present time.
A candidate during recent municipal elections had been charged with religious unbelief, and consequent unfitness for the office. He was a farmer who owned and cultivated his one hundred acres—worth, perhaps, farm and stock, about $11,000. During his younger days, when sowing his wild oats, he had strayed from home and had been a sailor before the mast on our great lakes, and had thus mixed considerably more than his fellow farmers with the outside world. When on the rostrum, making his speech, urging the people to vote for him as councillor, he was dressed in a Canada pepper-and-salt tweed suit, shooting coat, with large lapels to his pockets overhanging them, a red scarf about his neck, and a pair of thick cowhide boots, the tops of which were too large, with the legs of his trousers stretched tightly over them. Histout ensemblewould denote a good plain, practical farmer, in fair circumstances, and having a mediocre amount of brain power or gift of penetration. Once getting upon the rostrum his speech ran on about thus:—“Gentlemen, I am accused as not believing the Bible. I tell you that ain’t so, for I believe the Bible as well as you do. There are some verses in the Bible I do not quite believe, for I don’t believe Jonah was three days in the whale’s belly, and that he would come out alive. Well, I don’t believe that Samson set 3,000 foxes’ tails on fire, and set fire to green wheat. The rest of the Bible I believe, and I think you ought to elect me. Gentlemen, I ask for your votes,” and with this brief address he bowed and left the platform. A hum was heard about the room, the general conclusion being that his explanation was worse than the charge; that he did not better it any, and would have done as well to have said nothing. It would be almost superfluousto add that this novel candidate was defeated, and, so far as I can learn, in Ontario at least, never before was religious belief made a test of fitness for municipal office.
Another candidate comes before my mind who wanted to sacrifice himself on the altar of his country by filling some civic office. He had, it seems, been jocularly accused by someone with being a clodhopper and not sharp enough for a councillor. For the first time in his life he mounted the rostrum, and eager as he was to speak when among the crowd, up there it was quite another affair. A great big, hulking fellow he was, who had just attained his majority, and whose father had set him up on a hundred-acre farm. Never since his youthful days, when he recited at the common school—