IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 k 
 
 A 
 
 {./ 
 
 ^.^\ 
 
 i< 
 
 ,.V" 
 
 - ^ 
 
 :/. 
 
 '# 
 
 ^>. 
 
 
 ^j>'' 
 •^ 
 
 II I.I 
 
 11.25 
 
 Ul iza 
 
 ^ US |2.0 
 
 1.8 
 
 U 11.6 
 
 I 
 
 Hiotographic 
 
 Sdences 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WBT MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14SS0 
 
 (716) S72-4S03 
 
 

 
 CIHM/ICMH 
 
 Microfiche 
 
 Series. 
 
 CIHM/ICMH 
 Collection de 
 microfiches. 
 
 Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques 
 
Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibliographiques 
 
 The Institute has attempted to obtain the best 
 original copy available for filming. Features of this 
 copy which may be bibliographically unique, 
 which may alter any of the images in the 
 reproduction, or which may significantly change 
 the usual method of filming, are checked below. 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 D 
 D 
 
 D 
 
 Coloured covers/ 
 Couverture de couleur 
 
 I I Covers damaged/ 
 
 Couverture endommagde 
 
 Covers restored and/or laminated/ 
 Couverture restaurde et/ou pelliculAe 
 
 I I Cover title missing/ 
 
 Le titre de couverture manque 
 
 I I Coloured maps/ 
 
 Cartes giographiques en couleur 
 
 Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ 
 Encre de couleur (i.e. autre que bleue ou noire) 
 
 I I Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ 
 
 D 
 
 Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur 
 
 Bound with other material/ 
 Reli6 avec d'autres documents 
 
 Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion 
 along interior margin/ 
 
 La re Mure serrde peut causer de I'ombre ou de la 
 distortion le long de la marge intirieure 
 
 Blank leaves added during restoration may 
 appear within the text. Whenever possible, these 
 have been omitted from filming/ 
 II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajout^es 
 lore d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte, 
 mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont 
 pas 6t6 filmies. 
 
 Additional comments:/ 
 Commentaires suppl^mentaires: 
 
 L'Institut a microfilm^ le meilleur exemplaire 
 qu'il lui a it6 possible de se procurer. Les details 
 de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-Atre uniques du 
 point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier 
 une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une 
 modification dans la mithode normale de filmage 
 sont indiquis ci-dessous. 
 
 n 
 
 D 
 
 
 n 
 
 
 D 
 
 n 
 n 
 
 Coloured pages/ 
 Pages de couleur 
 
 Pages damaged/ 
 Pages endommagies 
 
 Pages restored and/or laminated/ 
 Pages restau'^es et/ou pelliculAes 
 
 Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ 
 Pages dicolories, tacheties ou piqudes 
 
 Pages detached/ 
 Pages ditach^es 
 
 Showthrough/ 
 Transparence 
 
 Quality of print varies/ 
 Qualiti inigale de I'impres&ion 
 
 Includes supplementary material/ 
 Comprend du materiel suppl^mentaire 
 
 Only edition available/ 
 Seule Edition disponible 
 
 Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata 
 slips, tissues, etc., have been ref limed to 
 ensure the best possible image/ 
 Les pages totalement ou partiellement 
 obscurcies par un fauillet d'errata, une pelure, 
 etc., ont M filmtes A nouveau de fa^on A 
 obtenir la [neilleure image possible. 
 
 Thd 
 to 
 
 Th« 
 poi 
 of 
 fill 
 
 Ori 
 be( 
 the 
 sio 
 oth 
 firs 
 sioi 
 or i 
 
 Th« 
 she 
 Tif 
 whi 
 
 Mai 
 diff 
 enti 
 beg 
 righ 
 reqi 
 met 
 
 This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ 
 
 Ce document est film6 au taux de reduction indiquA ci-dessous. 
 
 10X 
 
 
 
 
 14X 
 
 
 
 
 itx 
 
 
 
 
 22X 
 
 
 
 
 26X 
 
 
 
 
 30X 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 */ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 12X 
 
 
 
 
 16X 
 
 
 
 
 20X 
 
 
 
 
 24X 
 
 
 
 
 28X 
 
 
 
 
 32X 
 
 1 
 
I6tail8 
 BS du 
 -nodifier 
 Br une 
 ilmage 
 
 es 
 
 The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks 
 to the generosity of: 
 
 Library of the Public 
 Archives of Canada 
 
 The images appearing here are the best quality 
 possible considering the condition and legibility 
 of the original copy and in keeping with the 
 filming contract specifications. 
 
 Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed 
 beginning with the front cover and ending on 
 the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All 
 other original copies are filmed beginning on the 
 first page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, and ending on the la&t page with a printed 
 or illustrated impression. 
 
 The last recorded frame on each microfiche 
 shall contain the symbol — »> (meaning "CON- 
 TINUED"), or the symbol V (meaning "END"), 
 whichever applies. 
 
 Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at 
 different reduction ratios. Those too large to be 
 entirely included in one exposure are filmed 
 beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to 
 right and top to bottom, as many frames as 
 required. The following diagrams illustrate the 
 method: 
 
 L'exemplaire film6 fut reproduit grAce A la 
 g4n6rosit6 de: 
 
 La bibiiothdque des Archives 
 publiques du Canada 
 
 Las images suivantes ont 6tA reproduites avec le 
 plus grand soin, compte tenu de la condition et 
 de la nettetA de l'exemplaire film«, et en 
 conformity avec les conditions du contrat de 
 filmage. 
 
 Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en 
 papier est imprimis sont fiim6s en commenpant 
 par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la 
 derniire page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second 
 plat, salon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires 
 originaux sont filmis en commen^ant r,>ar la 
 premiere page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par 
 la dernlAre page qui comporte une telle 
 empreinte. 
 
 Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la 
 derniire image de cheque microfiche, selon le 
 cas: le symbols —^ signifie "A SUIVRE", le 
 symbols V signifie "FIN". 
 
 Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Atre 
 filmAs A des taux de rMuction diffirents. 
 Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Atre 
 reproduit en un seul clichA, il est filmA A partir 
 de I'angle supArieur gauche, de gauche A droite, 
 et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre 
 d'images nAcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants 
 illustrent la mAthode. 
 
 errata 
 to 
 
 I pelure, 
 an A 
 
 n 
 
 32X 
 
 1 2 3 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
PETER. THE CHIEF. 
 
 CHARL] 
 
/ 
 
 § 
 
 THE 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA: 
 
 BEING 
 
 LETTERS FROM THE WIFE OF AN 
 EMIGRANT OFFICER, 
 
 ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE DOMESTIC ECONOMY (jF 
 BRITISH AMERICA. 
 
 L M ■ s 
 
 ■r 
 
 -.■ fli '^13 
 
 NEW EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 CHARLES KNIGHT & CO., 22, LUDGATE STUEEl 
 
 1846. 
 
 
T73 
 
 % 
 
 ^ 
 
 2i^"/ 
 
 A> 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 p««« 
 
 ADVBKTiaiMBIfT 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 Departure from Greenock in the Brig Laurel. — Fit- 
 ting-up of the Vessel. — Boy Passenger. — Sea Pros- 
 pect. — Want of Occupation and Amusement. — Cap- 
 tain's Goldfinch. ..... 
 
 II. 
 
 Arrival off Newfoundland. — Singing of the Captain's 
 Goldfinch previous to the discovery of Land.— Gulf 
 of St. Lawrence. — Scenery of the River St. Lawrence. 
 — Difficult navi^tion of the River. — French Fisher- 
 man engaged as a Pilot. — Isle of Bic. — Green Island. 
 — Regular Pilot engaged. — Scenery of Green Island. 
 — Gros Isle. — Quarantine Regulations — Emigrants 
 on Gros Isle. — Arrival off Quebec. — Prospect of the 
 City and Environs. ..... 
 
 in. 
 
 12 
 
 Departure from Quebec. — Towed by a Steam- vessel. — 
 Fertility of the Country. — Different Objects seen in 
 sailing up the River- — Arrival off Montreal. — The 
 Rapids. . . . . .25 
 
 IV. 
 
 Landing at Montreal. —Appearance of the Town. — Ra- 
 vages of the Cholera. — Charitable Institutions in 
 Montreal. — Catholic Cathedral. — Lower and Upper 
 Town. — Company and Conversation at the Hotel. — 
 
U CONTENTS. 
 
 Writer attacked with the Cholera. — Departure from 
 Montreal in a Stage-coach. — Embark at Lachine on 
 board a Steam-vessel. — Mode of traveiliuju; alternately 
 in Steam- vessels and Stages. — Appearance of the 
 Country. — Manufactures. — Ovens at a distance from 
 the Cottages. — Draw-wells. — Arrival at Cornwall. — 
 Accommodation at the Inn. — Departure from Corn- 
 wall, and Arrival at Prescott. — Arrival at Brock- 
 ville.— Ship-launch there. — Voyage through Lake 
 Ontario. — Arrival at Cobourg. 
 
 Pajje 
 
 30 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 Journey from Cobourg to Amherst. — DiflBculties to be 
 encountered on first settling in the Backwoods. — Ap- 
 pearance of the Country. — Kice Lake. — Indian 
 Habits. — Voyage up the Otanabee. — Log-house, and 
 its Inmates. — Passage-boat. — Journey on foot to 
 Peterborough. , . , . . 
 
 47 
 
 VL 
 
 Peterborough. — Manners and Langoaffe of the Ameri- 
 cans. — Scotch Engineman. — Description of Peter- 
 borough and its Environs. — Canadian Flowers. — 
 Shanties. — Hardships suffered by First Settlers. — 
 Process of establishing a Farm. 
 
 6.5 
 
 VIL 
 
 Journey from Peterborough. — Canadian Woods. — 
 Waggon and Team. — Arrival at a Log-house on the 
 banks of a Lake. — Settlement and first Occupations 
 
 83 
 
 VIIL 
 
 Inconveniences of first Settlement. — Difficulty of obtain- 
 ing Provisions and other necessaries. — Snow-storm 
 and Hurricane. — Indian Summer, and setting in of 
 Winter. — Process of clearing the Laud. . , 95 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 l*ai;r 
 
 Loss of a Yoke of Oxen. — Construction of a Lop-ln^iisc. 
 — Glaziers' and Carpenters' "work. — Desoriptiou of a 
 new Log-house. — Wild Fruits of the Country. — 
 Walks on the Ice. — Situation of the House. — I'ake 
 and surrounding Scenery. . . . . lOo 
 
 X. 
 
 Variations in the Temperature of the Weather. — Eleo- 
 trieul Phenomenon. — Canadian Winter. — Country 
 deticient in Poetical Associations. — Sugar-nuikinp. — 
 Fishing Season. — Mode of Fishing. — Duck-shooting. 
 — Family of Indians. — Fapuu.sts and their Cradle- 
 cases.— Indian Manufactures. — Frogs. . .11.") 
 
 XL 
 
 Emigrants suitable for Canada. — Qualities requisite to 
 ensure success. — Investment of Capital. — Useful Ar- 
 ticles to be brought out. — Qualifications and Occupa- 
 tions of a Settler's Family. — Deficiency of Patience 
 and Energy in some Females. — Management of the 
 Dairy. — ChCv-'se. — Indian Corn, and its Cultivation. 
 — Potatoes. — Kates of Wages. 
 
 XII. 
 
 131 
 
 "A Logging Bee." — Burning ot the Log heaps. — Crops 
 for the Season. — Farming Stock. — Comparative Va- 
 lue of Wheat and Labour. — Choice of Land, and 
 relative Advantages. — Clearing Land. — Hurricane in 
 the Woods. — Variable Weather. — Insects. 
 
 143 
 
 XIIL 
 
 Health enjoyed in the rigour of Winter.— Inconveni- 
 ence suffered from the brightness of the Snow. — 
 Sleighing. — Indian Orthography. — Visit to an Indian 
 Encampment. — Story of an Indian. — An Indian 
 Hunchback. — Canadian Ornithology. 1* . 1.52 
 
 y 
 
]\ 
 
 CONTKNTS. 
 
 LETTEH XIV. 
 
 I'aife 
 
 Utility <»f liotanieal Knowledge. — The Fire-Weed. — 
 Sursaparilltt Plants. — Magnificent Water-Eily. — 
 J{ioe-Hed8. — Indian StrawWry. — Scarlet Colum- 
 bine. — Ferns. — Grasses • • • .172 
 
 XV. 
 
 Recapitulation of Various Topics. — Progress of Settle- 
 ment. — Canada, the Land of Hope. — Visit to the 
 Family of a Naval Officer. — Squirrels. — Visit to and 
 Story of an Emigrant Clergyman. — His early Diffi- 
 culties. — The Temper, Disposition, and Habits of 
 Emigrants essential Ingredients in Failure or Success 190 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Indian Hunters. — Sail in a Canoe. — Want of Libraries 
 in the Hackwoods. — New Village. — Progress of Im- 
 provt-raent. — Fire-flies. , , . .211 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Ague.— Illness of the Family. — Probable Cause.— 
 lloot-house. — Setting-in of Winter. — lusect termed a 
 '♦Sawyer.' — Temporary Church . . . 222 
 
 XVIIL 
 
 busy Spring — Increase of Society and Comfort.— IJe- 
 colleciions of Home. — Aurora Horealis. . . 229 
 
 Notes ...... 23.'i 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 Tins volume was published in the * Library of Enter- 
 taining Knowledge* in 1836. Neither its usefulness 
 nor its interest arc diminished in 1846. Tlie authoress, 
 in her original introduction, says : — " The writer of th6 
 following pages has endeavoured to afford every possible 
 information to the wives and daughters of emigrants of 
 the higher class who contemplate seeking a home amid 
 our Canadian wilds. Truth has been conscientiously her 
 object in the work, for it were cruel to write in flatter- 
 ing terms calculated to deceive emigrants into the belief 
 that the land to which they are transferring their families, 
 their capital, and their hopes, is a land flowing with milk 
 and honey, where comforts and affluence may be ob- 
 tained with little exertion. She prefers honestly repre- 
 senting facts in their real and true light, that the female 
 part of the emigrant's family may be enabled to look 
 them firmly in the face ; to find a remedy in female in- 
 genuity and expediency for some difficulties ; and, by 
 being properly prepared, encounter the rest with that 
 high-spirited cheerfulness of which well-educated fe- 
 males often give extraordinary proofs. She likewise 
 wishes to teach them to discard everything exclusively 
 pertaining to the artificial refinement of fashionable life 
 
ADVERTISKMENT. 
 
 in England ; and to point out that, by devoting the 
 inoncv consumed in these incumbrances to articles of 
 real use, which cannot be readily obtained in Canada, 
 they may enjoy the pleasure of superintending a plea- 
 sant, well-ordered home. She is desirous of giving 
 them the advantage of her three years' experience, that 
 they may pro|K?rly apply every part of their time, and 
 learn to consider that every pound or pound's worth be- 
 longing to any member of an out-coming emigrant's 
 family, ought to be sacredly considered as capital^ which 
 must make proper returns either as tlie means of l)rini:- 
 ing increase in the shape of income, or, what is still 
 better, in healthful domestic comfort. 
 
 " It will be seen, in the course of this work, that the 
 writer is as earnest in recommending ladies w ho belong 
 to the higher class of settlers to cultivate all tlie mental 
 resources of a superior education, as she is to induce 
 them to discard all irrational and artificial wants and 
 mere useless pursuits. She would willingly direct their 
 attention to the natural history and botany of this new 
 country, in which they will find a never-failing source of 
 anuisement and instruction, at once enlightening and 
 elevating the mind, and serving to fill up the void left by 
 the absence of those lighter feminine accomplishments, 
 the practice of which are necessarily superseded by im- 
 perative domestic duties. To the person who is capable 
 of looking abroad into the beauties of Nature, and 
 adoring the Creator through his glorious works, are 
 opened stores of unmixed pleasure, which will not per- 
 mit her to be dull or unhappy in the loneliest part of 
 our VVesteni Wilderness. The writer of these pages 
 speaks from experience, and would be pleased to find 
 
ADVERTISr.MKNT. 
 
 that the simple sources from which she has hersolf 
 drawn pleasure, have cheore*! the solitude of liituro 
 female sojourners in the backwootls of Canada. 
 
 *' As a peneral remark to all sorts and conditions of 
 settlers, she would observe, that the strugrgle up the hill 
 of Independence is often a severe one, uiid it outrht not 
 to be made alone. It must be aided and encouraircd by 
 the example and assistance of an active and cheerful 
 partner. Children should be tau«rht to appreciate the 
 devoted love that has induced their |>arents to overcome 
 the natural reluctance felt by all persons to ipiit for ever 
 the land of their forefathers, the scenes of their earliest 
 and happiest days, and to become aliens and wanderers 
 in a distant country, to form new ties and new friends, 
 and begin, as it were, life's toilsome march anew, that 
 their children may be placed in a i-ituation in which, 
 by industry and activity, the substantial comforts of life 
 may be permanently obtained, and a landed property 
 handed down to them, and their children after them. 
 
 '* Young men soon become reconciled to this country, 
 which offers to them that chief attraction to youth, — 
 great personal liberty. Their employments are of a 
 cheerful and healthy nature ; and their amusements, 
 such as hunting, shooting, fishing, and boating, are pecu- 
 liarly fascinating. But in none of these can their sisters 
 share. The hardships and difficulties of the settler's 
 life, therefore, are felt peculiarly by the female part of 
 the family. It is with a view of ameliorating these pri- 
 vations that the following pages have been written, to 
 show how some difficulties may be best borne and others 
 avoided. For those who, without intending to share in 
 the privations and dangers of an emigrant's life, have a 
 
 u2 
 
.':i 
 
 . P 
 ) I i. 
 
 
 8 
 
 ADVEETISEMEKT. 
 
 rational curiosity to become acquainted ^ith scenes and 
 manners so different from those of a long-civil ize<i 
 country, it is hoped that this little work will atiord somo 
 amusement, and inculcate some lessons not dCToid at 
 moral instruction/* 
 
 
 •: 
 
 w 
 
 Ml 
 
THE 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 Letter I. 
 
 Departure from Greenock in the Brig Laurel. — Fitting-iip 
 of the Vessel. — Boy Passenger. — Sea Prospect. — Want of 
 Occupation and Amusement. — Captiin's Goldfinch. 
 
 Brig Laurely July 18, 1832. 
 
 I RECEIVED your last kind letter, my dearest mother, 
 only a few hours before we set sail from Greenock. As 
 you express a wish that I should give you a minute 
 detail of our voyage, I shall take up my subject from 
 the time of our embarkation, and write as inclination 
 prompts me. Instead of having reason to complain of 
 short letters, you will, I fear, find mine only too prolix. 
 
 After many delays and disappointments, we succeeded 
 at last in obtaining a passage in a fast-sailing brig, the 
 Laurel, of Greenock ; and favourable winds are now 
 raj)idly carrying us across the Atlantic. 
 
 The Laurel is not a regular passenger-ship, which I 
 consider an advantage, for what we lose in amusement 
 and variety we assuredly gain in comfort. The cabin is 
 neatly fitted up, and I enjoy the luxury (for such it is, 
 compared with the narrow berths of the state cabin) of 
 a handsome sofa, with crimson draperies, in the great 
 cabin. The state cabin is also ours. We paid fifteen 
 pounds each for our passage to Montreal. This was 
 nigh, but it includes every expense ; and, in fact, we 
 had no choice. The only vessel in the river bound for 
 
I 
 
 ' b'. 
 
 )!' 
 
 ; 
 
 10 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 Canada was a passcngor-sliip, literally swarmiiij? with 
 emigrants, chiefly of* the lower class of llig^hJaiMJers. 
 
 The only passengers besides ourselves in the Laurel 
 arc the captain's nephew, a pretty yellow-haired lad, 
 about fifteen years of age, who works his passage out, 
 and a young gentleman who is going out as clerk in a 
 merchant's house in Quebec. He seems too much 
 wrapped up in his own affairs to be very communicative 
 to others ; he walks much, talks little, and reads less ; 
 but often amuses himself by singing as he paces the 
 deck, " Home, sweet home," and that delightful song 
 by Camoens, " Isle of beauty." It is a sweet song, 
 and I can easily imagine the charm it has for a home- 
 sick heart. 
 
 I was much pleased with the scenery of the Clyde ; 
 the day we set sail was a lovely one, and I remained on 
 deck till nightfall. The morning light found our vessel 
 dashing gallantly along, with a favourable breeze, 
 through the north channel ; that day we saw the last of 
 the Hebrides, and before night lost sight of the north 
 coast of Ireland. A wide expanse of water and sky is 
 now our only pros|)ect, unvaried by any object save the 
 distant and scarcely to be traced outline of some vessel 
 just seen at the verge of the horizon, a speck in the im- 
 mensity of space, or sometimes a few sea-fowl. I love 
 to watch these wanderers of the ocean, as thev rise and 
 fall with the rocking billows, or flit about our vessel ; 
 and often I wonder whence they came, to what distant 
 shore they are bound, and if they make the rude wave 
 their home and resting-place during the long day and 
 dark night ; and then I recall to mind the words of the 
 American poet, Bryant, — 
 
 '* He who from zone to zone 
 Guides through the boundless air their certain flight, 
 
 In the long way that I must tread alone 
 Will guide my steps aright." 
 
 Though we have been little more than a week on 
 board, I am getting weary of the voyage. I can only 
 compare the monotony of it to being weather-bound in 
 
 } 
 
VOYAGE TO QUEBEC. 
 
 II 
 
 sonic country inn, I have already made myself ao- 
 (|Mainted with all the books worth reading in the ship's 
 library ; unfortunately, it is chiefly made up with old 
 novels and musty romances. 
 
 When the weather is fine I sit on a bench on the 
 deck, wra|)ped in my cloak, and sew, or jiace the deck 
 with my husband, and talk over plans for the future, 
 which in all probability will never be realized. I really 
 do pity men who are not actively employed : women 
 have always their needle as a resource against the over- 
 whelming weariness of an idle life ; but where a man is 
 confined to a small space, such as the deck and cabin of 
 a trading vessel, with nothing to see, nothing to hear, 
 nothing to do, and nothing to read, he is really a very 
 j)itiable creature. 
 
 There is one passenger on board that seems perfectly 
 hap|)y, if one may judge from the liveliness of the songs 
 with which he greets us whenever we approach his cage. 
 It is " Harry," the captain's goldfinch — **the captain's 
 mate^* as the sailors term him. This pretty creature 
 has made no fewer than twelve voyages in the Laurel. 
 " It is all one to him whether his cage is at sea or on 
 land, he is still at home," said the captain, regarding 
 his little favourite with an air of great affection, and 
 evidently gratified by the attention I bestowed on his 
 bird. 
 
 I have already formed a friendship with the little cap- 
 tive. He never fails to greet my approach with one of 
 his sweetest songs, and will take from my fingers a bit 
 of biscuit, which he holds in his claws till he has 
 thanked me with a few of his clearest notes. This 
 mark of acknowledgment is termed by the steward, 
 *' saying grace." 
 
 If the wind still continues to favour us, the captain 
 tells us we shall be on the banks of Newfoundland in 
 another week. Farewell for the present. 
 
i 
 
 % 
 
 
 ,' • h\- 
 
 , I ■ 
 
 II" 
 
 i 
 
 12 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 Letter II. 
 
 Arrival off Newfoundland. — Singing of the Captain's Gold- 
 finch previous to the discovery of Land. — Gulf of St. 
 Laurence. — Scenery of the lliver St. Laurence. — Difficult 
 navigation of the lliver. — French Fisherman engaged as 
 a Pilot. — Isle of 15ic. — Green Island. — Regular Pilot en- 
 gaged. — Scenery of Green Island. — Gros Isle. — Quaran- 
 tine Regulations. — Emigrants on Gros Isle. — Arrival off 
 Quebec. — Prospect of the City and Environs. 
 
 Brig Laurel, River St. Laurence, 
 August 6, 1832. 
 
 I LEFT off writinoc, my dear motlier, from this simple 
 cause, — I had nothing* to say. One day was but the 
 echo, as it were, of the one that preceded it ; so that a 
 page copied from the mate's log would have proved as 
 amusing, and to the full as instructive, as my journal, 
 ))rovided I had kept one during the last fortnight. 
 
 So barren of events has that time been that the sight 
 of a party of bottle-nosed whales,* two or three seals, 
 and a porpoise, ])ossibly on their way to a dinner or tea 
 party at the North Pole, was considered an occurrence 
 of great importance. Every glass was in requisition as 
 soon as they made their a[)pearance, and the marine 
 monsters were well nigh stared out of countenance. 
 
 We came within sight of the shores of Newfound- 
 land on the 5th of August, just one month from the day 
 we took our last look of the British isles. Yet though 
 the coast was brown, and rugged, and desolate, I hailed 
 its appearance with rapture. Never did any thing seem 
 60 rei'reshing and delicious to me as the land breeze that 
 came to us, as I thought, bearing health and gladness on 
 its wings. 
 
 iJE 
 
GULF OF ST. LAURENCE. 
 
 13 
 
 I had noticed with some curiosity the restless activity 
 of the captain's bird some hours previous to " hind " 
 bcinjr proclaimed from the look-out station. He sanj^ 
 continually, and his note was Ion«rer, clearer, and more 
 thrillinir than heretofore ; the little creature, the captain 
 assured me, was conscious of the ditt'erence in the air as 
 we ai)proached the land. " I trust almost as much to 
 my bird as to my glass," he said, "and have never yet 
 been deceived.'* 
 
 Our proprress was somewhat tedious after we entered 
 the erulf. Ninety miles across is the entrance of this 
 majestic river ; it seems an ocean in itself. Half our 
 time is spent porinir over the great chart in the cabin, 
 which is constantly being rolled and unrolled by my 
 husband to gratify my desire of learning the names of 
 the distant shores and islands which we pass. 
 
 We are without a j)ilot as yet, and the captain being a 
 cautious seaman is unwilling to risk the vessel on this 
 dangerous navigation ; so that we proceed but slowly on 
 
 our voyage. 
 
 Awjust 7. — We were visited this morning by a beau- 
 tiful little bin!, not much larger than our gold-crested 
 wren. I hailed it as a bird of good omen — a little mes- 
 senger sent to bid us welcome to the New W^orld, and I 
 felt almost a childish joy at the sight of our little visitor, 
 'J'here are happy moments in our lives when we draw 
 the greatest pleasure from the most trifling sources, as 
 children are pleased with the most simple toy. 
 
 From the hour we entered the gulf a perceptible 
 change had taken place in all on board. The captain, a 
 man of grave, quiet manners, grew quite talkative. My 
 husband was more than usually animated, and even the 
 thoughtful young Scotchman became positively an enter- 
 taining person. The crew displayed the most lively 
 zeal in the performance of their duty, and the goldfinch 
 sang cheerily from dawn till sunset. As for me, Hope 
 was busy in my heart, chasing from it all feelings of 
 doubt or regret that might sadden the present or cloud 
 the future. 
 
 I am now able to trace distinctly the outline of the 
 
 b3 
 
i 
 
 '■ '!" 
 ■|;M 
 
 ■ 'i- 
 
 
 IJ 
 
 
 14 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 coast on the southern side of the river. Sometimes the 
 high lands are suddenly enveloped in dense clouds of 
 mist, which are in constant motion, rolling along in 
 shadowy billows, now tinted with rosy light, now white 
 and fleecy, or bright as silver, as they catch the sun- 
 beams. So rapid are the changes that take place in this 
 fog-bank, that perhaps the next time I raise my eyes I 
 behold the scene changed as if by magic. The misty 
 curtain is slowly drawn up, as if by invisible hands, and 
 the wild, wooded mountains partially revealed, with 
 their bold rocky shores and sweeping bays. At other 
 times the vapoury volume dividing, moves along the 
 valleys and deep ravines, like lofty pillars of smoke, or 
 hangs in snowy draperies among the dark forest pines. 
 
 I am never weary of watching these fantastic clouds ; 
 they recall to me the pleasant time I spent in the High- 
 lands, among the cloud-capped hills of the north. 
 
 As yet, the air is cold, and we experience frequent 
 squalls of wind and hail, with occasional peals of 
 thunder ; then again all is serene and bright, and the air 
 is filled with fragrance, and flies, and bees, and birds 
 come flitting past us from the shore. 
 
 Attgust 8. — Though I cannot but dwell with feelings 
 of wonder and admiration on the majesty and power of 
 this mighty river, I begin to grow weary of its immen- 
 sity, and long for a nearer view of the shore ; but at 
 present we see nothing more than long lines of pine- 
 clad hills, with here and there a white speck, which 
 they tell me are settlements and villages to the south ; 
 while huge mountains divested of verdure bound our 
 -view on the north side the river. My admiration of 
 mountainous scenery makes me dwell with more interest 
 on this side the river, and I watch the progress of culti- 
 vation among these rugged and inhospitable regions with 
 positive pleasure. 
 
 During the last two days we have been anxiously 
 looking out for a pilot to take us up to Quebec. Various 
 signals have been fired, but hitherto without success ; no 
 pilot has condescended to visit us, so we arc somewhat 
 in the condition of a stage without a coachman, with 
 
SCKJfEBY OF THB BIVEB. 
 
 15 
 
 only some inexperienced hand to hold the reins. I 
 already perceive some manifestations of impatience ap- 
 pearing among us, but no one blames the captain, who is 
 very anxious about the matter ; as the river is full of 
 rocks and shoals, and presents many difficulties to a 
 
 g.'rson not intimately acquainted with the navigation, 
 csides, he is answerable for the safety of the ship to 
 the underwriters, in case he neglects to take a pilot on 
 board. 
 
 While writing the above I was roused by a bustle on 
 (leek, and going up to learn the cause was informed that 
 u boat with the long looked-for pilot had put otf" from 
 the shore ; but, after all the fuss and bustle, it proved 
 only a French fisherman, with a poor ragged lad, his as- 
 sistant. The captain with very little difficulty per- 
 >uaded Monsieur Paul Breton to pilot us as far as Green 
 Island, a distance of some hundred miles higher up the 
 river, whore he assured us we should meet with a regu- 
 lar pilot, if not before. 
 
 I have some little difficulty in understanding Monsieur 
 Paul, as he speaks a peculiar dialect; but he seems 
 good-natured and obliging enough. He tells us the corn 
 is yet green, hardly in ear, and the summer fruits not 
 yet ripe, but he says, that at Quebec we shall find 
 apples and fruit in plenty. 
 
 As we advance higher up the river the country on 
 both sides begins to assume a more genial aspect. Patches 
 of verdure, with white cottages, are seen on the shores 
 and scattered along the sides of the mountains ; while 
 here and there a village church rears its simple spire, 
 distinguished above the surrounding buildings by its 
 glittering vane and bright roof of tin. The southern 
 shores are more populous but less picturesque than those 
 of the north ; but there is enough on either side to de- 
 light the eye. 
 
 This morning we anchored off the Isle of Bio, a pretty 
 low island, covered with trees and looking very pleasant. 
 I felt a longing desire to set my foot on Canadian 
 ground, and must own I was a little disappointed when 
 
!i\ 
 
 ■'I 
 
 ; I ,^, 
 
 3 
 
 , I 
 
 M 
 
 ,u 
 
 I 
 
 16 
 
 BACKWOODS OP CANADA. 
 
 the captain advised me to remain on board, and not at- 
 tempt to make one of the party that were preparing? to 
 go on shore : my husband seconded the captain's wish, 
 so I contented myself with leaninj^ over the shin's side 
 and feasting my eyes on the rich masses of foliage as 
 they waved to and fro with tlie slight breeze that agi- 
 tated them. I had soon reason to be thankful that I had 
 not followed my own wayward will, for the afternoon 
 ])rovod foggy, and on the return of the boat I learned 
 that the ground was swampy just where the party landed, 
 and they sunk over their ankles in water. They re- 
 ported the island to be covered knee-deep with a most 
 luxuriant growth of red clover, tall trees, low shrubs, and 
 an abundance of wild flowers. 
 
 That I might not regret not accompanying him, my 
 husband brought me a delightful bouquet, which he had 
 selected for me. Anjong the flowers were fragrant red 
 roses, resembling those we call Scotch burnet-leaved, 
 with smooth shining leaves and few if any thorns ; the 
 blue flower called Pulmonaria or Lungwort, which I 
 gathered in the Highlands ; a sweet pea, with red 
 blossoms and wreaths of lovely pale green foliage ; a 
 white orchis, the smell of which was quite delicious. 
 Besides these were several small white and yellow 
 flowers, with which I was totally unacquainted. The 
 steward furnished me with a china jar and fresh water, 
 so that I shall have the pleasure of a nosegay during the 
 rest of the voyage. The sailors had not forgotten a 
 green bough or two to adorn the ship, and the bird-cage 
 was soon as bowery as leaves could make it. 
 
 Though the weather is now very fine, we make but 
 slow progress ; the provoking wind seems determined to 
 blow from every quarter but the right. We float up 
 with the flood tide, and when the tide fails cast anchor, 
 and wait with the best grace we can till it is time to 
 weigh anchor again. I amuse myself with examining 
 the villages and settlements through the captain's glass, 
 or watching lor the appearance of the white porpoises 
 tumbling among the waves. These creatures are of a 
 milky whiteness, and have nothing of the disgusting look 
 
GREEN ISLAND. 
 
 17 
 
 my 
 
 ; a 
 
 ICIOUS. 
 
 cllow 
 
 The 
 
 I'ater, 
 
 ig the 
 
 -cage 
 
 le but 
 led to 
 
 ining 
 ^lass, 
 
 )ises 
 lof a 
 
 look 
 
 of the black ones. Sometimes a seal pops its droll head 
 up close beside our vessel, looking very much like Sin- 
 bud's little old man of the sea. 
 
 It is fortunate for me that my love of natural history 
 enables me to draw amusement from objects that are 
 deemed by many unworthy of attention. To me they 
 present an inexhaustible fund of interest. The simplest 
 weed that grows in my path, or the flv that flutters 
 about me, are subjects for reflection, aJmiration, and 
 delight. 
 
 We are now within sight of Green Island. It is the 
 largest, and I believe ono of the most populous, we have 
 passed. Every minute now seems to increase the beauty 
 of the passage. Far as the eye can reach you see the 
 shore thronged with villages and farms in one continuous 
 line. On the southern side all are gay and glittering 
 with the tin roofs on the most imj)ortant buildings ; the 
 rest are shingles, whitewashed. This I do not like so 
 well as the plain shingled roofs ; the whiteness of the 
 roofs of the cottages and homesteads have a glaring 
 effect, and we look in vain for that relief to the eye that 
 is produced by the thatched or slated roofs. The shin- 
 gles in their natural state soon acquire the appearance of 
 slates, and can hardly be distinguished from them. What 
 would you say to a rose-coloured house, with a roof of 
 the same gaudy hue, the front of the gay edifice being 
 garnished with grass-green shutters, doors, and veran- 
 dah ? No doubt the interior is furnished with corre- 
 sponding taste. There is generally one or more of 
 these smart buildings in a Canadian village, standing 
 forth with ostentatious splendour above its more modest 
 brethren. 
 
 August 11. — Just below Green Island we took on 
 board a real pilot, whom, by the way, I do not like half 
 so well as Monsieur Paul. He is a little bit pragma- 
 tical, and seems evidently proud of his superior know- 
 ledge of the river. The good-natured fisherman relin- 
 quished his post with a very good grace, and seems 
 already excellent friends with his more able rival. For 
 my part I was very sorry when the new pilot came on 
 
^1 
 
 « 
 
 I 
 
 t 
 
 \l 
 
 11 
 
 i 
 
 t4 
 
 jJ:: 
 
 18 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 board : the first thing he did was to hand us over a 
 
 Iiuniphlct, containing regulations from the Hoard of 
 lealth at Quebec respecting the cholera, which is raging, 
 he tells us, like a fearful plague both at that place and 
 Montreal. 
 
 These regulations positively f«)rbid the captain and the 
 pilot to allow any person, whether of the crew or \ms" 
 sengers, to quit the vessel until they shall have ])ass(!d 
 examination at the quarantine ground, under the risk of 
 incurring a severe penalty. 
 
 This was very annoymg ; as the captuin, that very 
 morning, had pro[>osed taking us on shore at a lovely 
 spot called Crane Island, to spend the afternoon, while 
 we waited for the return of the tide, at the house of a 
 Scotch gentleman, the owner of the prettiest settlement 
 I had yet seen, the buildings and grounds being laid out 
 with great taste. 
 
 The situation of this island is of itself very beautiful. 
 Around it are the waters of the St. Laurence, b<^aring 
 on its mighty current the commerce of several nations ; 
 in the foreground are the populous and lively settlements 
 of the southern shores, while behind and far far above it 
 rise the lofty range of mountains to the north, now 
 studded with rural villages, pleasant farms, and culti- 
 vated fields. The island itself showed us smooth lawns 
 and meadows of emerald verdure, with orchards and 
 corn-fields sloping down to the water's edge. After a 
 confinement of nearly five weeks on board, you may 
 easily suppose with what satisfaction we contemplated 
 the prospect of spending a few hours on this inviting 
 spot. 
 
 We expect to reach the quarantine ground (Gros 
 Isle) this evening, where the pilot says we shall be de- 
 tained three days. Though we are all in good health, 
 yet, having sailed from an infected port, we shall be 
 detained on the quarantine ground, but not allowed to 
 land. 
 
 August 12. — We reached Gros Isle yesterday even- 
 ing. It is a beautiful rocky island, covered with groves 
 uf beech, birch, ash, and fir-trees. There are several 
 
 %\ 
 
 JBJL iiu i i Jii ' i 
 
EMIGRANT VE8SKLS. 
 
 ID 
 
 over a 
 oard of 
 irajrinp, 
 uce and 
 
 and the 
 
 or jws- 
 
 ))ass<?d 
 
 e risk of 
 
 lat very 
 a lovely 
 ti, while 
 jse of a 
 ttlement 
 laid out 
 
 oautiful. 
 bt^aring 
 nations : 
 ;lement3 
 above it 
 h, now 
 d culti- 
 1 lawns 
 s and 
 fter a 
 u may 
 plated 
 viting 
 
 (Gros 
 
 )e de- 
 
 lealth, 
 
 (all be 
 
 )'ed to 
 
 leven- 
 roves 
 jveral 
 
 vessels lyinpr at anehor close to the shore ; one bears the 
 melancholy synil>ol of disease, the yellow flap: ; she is a 
 
 1)assenger-i«hij). and has the small -|)ox an<l measles among 
 ler crew. \Vhcn any infectious complaint api)ears on 
 board, the yellow flag is hoisted, and the invalids con- 
 veyed to the cholera hospital or wooden building, that 
 has been erected on a rising bank above the shore. It 
 is surrounded with i)a]isadoesand a guard of soldiers. 
 
 There is also a temj)orary fort at some distance from 
 the hospital, containing a garrison of soldiers, who are 
 there to enforce the quarantine rules. These rules are 
 considered as very defective, and in some respects quite 
 absurd, and are productive of many severe evils to the 
 unfortunate emigrants.* 
 
 When the passengers and crew of a vessel do not 
 exceed a certam number, they are not allowed to land 
 under a penalty, both to the cajitain and the ottender ; 
 but if, on the contrary, they should exceed the stated 
 number, ill or well, passengers and crew must all turn 
 out and go on shore, taking with them their bedding and 
 clothes, which are all spread out on the shore, to be 
 washed, aired, and fumigated, giving the healthy every 
 chance of taking the infection from the invalids. The 
 sheds and buildings put up for the accommodation of 
 those who are obliged to submit to the quarantine laws, 
 are in the same area as the hospital. 
 
 Nothing can exceed the longing desire I feel to Xtc 
 
 * It is to be hoped that some steps will be taken by 
 Government to remedy these obnoxious laws, which have 
 repeatedly entailed those very evils on the unhappy emi- 
 grants that the Board of Health wish to avert from the colony 
 at large. 
 
 Many valuable lives have been wantonly sacrificed by 
 placing the healthy in the immediate vicinity of infection, 
 besides subjecting them to many other sufferings, expenses, 
 and inconvenience, which the poor exile might well be 
 spared. 
 
 If there must be quarantine laws — and I suppose the evil 
 is a necessary one — surely every care ought to be taken to 
 render them as little hurtful to the emigrant as possible. 
 
■. 1(1 '• 
 
 
 11 
 
 I'. ' 
 
 20 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA, 
 
 allowed to land and ex[ilorc this jiicturcsqiic island ; tho 
 weather is so fine, and the waving groves of green, the 
 little rocky bays and inlets of the island, appear so tempt- 
 ing ; but to all my entreaties the visiting surgeon who 
 came on board returned a decided negative. 
 
 A few hours after his visit, however, an Indian basket, 
 containing strawberries and raspberries, with a large 
 bunch of wild flowers, was sent on board for me, with tho 
 surgeon's compliments. 
 
 I amuse myself with making little sketches of the fort 
 and the surrounding scenery, or watching the groups of 
 emigrants on shore. We have already seen the landing 
 of the passengers of three emigrant ships. You may 
 imagine yourself looking on a fair or crowded market, 
 clothes waving in the wind or spread out on the earth, 
 chests, bundles, baskets, men, women, and children, 
 asleep or basking in the sun ; some in motion busied 
 with their goods, the women employed in washing or 
 cooking in the open air, beside the wood-fires on the 
 beach ; while parties of children are pursuing each other 
 in wanton glee, rejoicing in their newly-acquired liberty. 
 Mixed with these you see the stately form and gay 
 trappings of the sentinels, while the thin blue smoke of 
 the wood fires, rising above the trees, heightens the pic- 
 ture and gives it an additional effect. On my husband 
 remarking the picturesque appearance of the scene before 
 us to one of the officers from the fort who had come on 
 board, he smiled sadly, and replied, *' Believe me, in 
 this instance, as in many others, 'tis distance lends en- 
 chantment to the view." Could you take a nearer 
 survey of some of those very picturesque groups which 
 you admire, I think you would turn away from them 
 with heart-sickness; you would there behold every 
 variety of disease, vice, poverty, filth, and famine — 
 human misery in its most disgusting and saddening form. 
 Such pictures as Hogarth's pencil only could have pour- 
 tray ed, or Crabbe's pen described. 
 
 August 14. — We are once more under way, and 
 floating up the river with the tide. Gros Isle is just 
 five-and-twenty miles below Quebec: a favourable 
 
( 21 ) 
 
 nd ; tho 
 icn, the 
 jtempt- 
 !on who 
 
 basket, 
 a larpfc 
 Yith the 
 
 the fort 
 
 rou))s of 
 
 landing 
 
 Du may 
 
 market, 
 
 3 earth, 
 
 lildren, 
 
 busied 
 
 ling or 
 
 on the 
 
 [h other 
 
 iberty. 
 
 id gay 
 
 loke of 
 
 e pic- 
 
 lusband 
 
 before 
 
 me on 
 
 JO, in 
 
 Ids en< 
 
 Inearer 
 
 [which 
 
 them 
 
 [every 
 
 line — 
 
 form. 
 
 ipour- 
 
 and 
 just 
 Irable 
 
 111-."", -'i 
 

 l'- 
 
 
 f 
 
 
 > 
 
 it 
 
 22 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 breeze would carry us up in a lew hours ; as it is we 
 cat! only make a little way by tacking from side to side 
 when we lose the tide. I rather enjoy this way of pro- 
 ceeding, as it gives one a close view of both sides the 
 river, which narrows considerably as we approach nearer 
 towards Quebec. To-morrow, if no accident happens, 
 we shall be anchored in front of a place rendered inter- 
 esting,^ both by its historical associations and its own 
 native beauty of situation. Till to-morrow, then, adieu. 
 
 I was reckoning much on seeing the falls of Mont- 
 morenci, which are within sight of the river; but the 
 sun set, and the stars rose brilliantly before we ap- 
 proached within sound of the cataract ; and though I 
 strained my eyes till they were weary of gazing on the 
 dim shadowy scene around me, I could distinguish no- 
 thing beyond the dark masses of rock that form the 
 channel through which the waters of the Montmorenci 
 rush into the St. Laurence. 
 
 At ten last night, August the 15th, the lights of 
 the city of Quebec were seen gleaming through the 
 distance like a coronet of stars above the waters. At 
 half- past ten we dropped anchor opposite the fort, and I 
 fell asleep dreaming of the various scenes through which 
 I had passed. Again I was destined to be disappointed 
 in my expectations of going on shore. The visiting 
 surgeon advised my husband and me by no means to 
 land, as the mortality that still raged in the town made 
 it very hazardous. He gave a melancholy description of 
 the place. *' Desolation and woe and great mourning — 
 Rachel weeping for her children because they are not," 
 are words that may well be applied to this city of the 
 pestilence. 
 
 Nothing can be more imposing than the situation of 
 Quebec, built on the sides and summit of a magnificent 
 rock, on the highest point of which (Cape Diamond) 
 stands the fortress overlooking the river, and command- 
 ing a most superb view of the surrounding scenes. I 
 did, indeed, regret the loss of this noble prospect, the 
 equal of which I suppose I shall never see. It would 
 have been something to have thought on and recalled in 
 
 laftl 
 
 iW( 
 
 
 JLliJiJIl'lU HH r l 
 
 Mttai 
 
1 
 
 QUEBEC. 
 
 23 
 
 it is we 
 e to side 
 r of pro- 
 sides the 
 h nearer 
 happens, 
 ed inter- 
 its own 
 n, adieu, 
 f Mont- 
 but the 
 we ap- 
 lough I 
 ^ on the 
 uish no- 
 orm the 
 tmorenci 
 
 ights of 
 
 jgh the 
 
 TS. At 
 
 t, and I 
 
 which 
 
 pointed 
 
 visiting 
 
 ans to 
 
 n made 
 
 tion of 
 
 fning — 
 
 [e not," 
 
 of the 
 
 Ition of 
 
 lificent 
 
 Imond) 
 
 Imand- 
 
 les. I 
 
 jt, tlie 
 
 [would 
 
 ed in 
 
 after years, when buried in the solitude of the Canadian 
 woods. 
 
 The opposite heights, being the Point Levi side, are 
 highly j)icturesque, though less imposing than the rock 
 on which the town stands. The bank is rocky, preci- 
 ])itous, and clothed with trees that sweep down to the 
 water's edge, excepting where they are cleared away to 
 give place to white cottages, gardens, and hanging 
 : orchards. But, in my opinion, much less is done with 
 this romantic situation than might be effected if good 
 taste were exercised in the buildings, and on the disposal 
 of the ground. How lovely would such a spot be ren- 
 dored in England or Scotland I Nature here has done 
 ali, and man but little, excepting sticking up some ugly 
 wooden cottages, as mean as they are tasteless. It is, 
 however, very possible there may be pretty villas and 
 houses higher up, that are concealed from the eye by the 
 intervening groves. 
 
 The river is considered to be just a mile across from 
 Point Levi to the landing-stairs below the custom-house 
 in Quebec ; and it was a source of amusement to me to 
 watch the horse ferry-boats that ply between the two 
 shores. The captain told me that there were not less 
 than twelve of these comical-looking machines. They 
 each have their regular hours, so that you see a constant 
 succession going or returning. They carry a strange 
 assortment of passengers : well and ill-dressed ; old and 
 young ; rich and poor ; cows, sheep, horses, pigs, dogs, 
 fowls, market-baskets, vegetables, fruit, hay, corn, any- 
 thing and everything you will see by turns. 
 
 The boat is flat, railed round, with a wicket at each 
 end to admit the live and dead stock that go or are taken 
 on board ; the centre of the boat (if such it can be called) 
 is occupied by four lean ill-favoured hacks, who walk 
 round and round, as if in a threshing-machine, and work 
 the paddles at each side. There is a sort of pen for the 
 cattle. 
 
 I am told there is a monument erecting in honour of 
 Wolfe, in the governor's garden, looking towards the St. 
 
24 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 J'S 
 
 Laurence, and to be seen from Point Levi : the inscrip- 
 tion has not yet been decided upon.* 
 
 The ca[)tain has just returned from the town. He 
 very kindly brought on board a i)asket of ripe apples for 
 me, besides fresh meat, vegetables, bread, butter, and 
 milk. The deck is all bustle with custom-house officers, 
 and men unloading a part of the ship's freight, whicli 
 consists chiefly of rum, brandy, sugar, and coals, for 
 ballast. We are to leave Quebec by five o'clock this 
 evening. The British America, a superb steam-vessel of 
 three decks, takes us in tow as far as Montreal. I must 
 now say farewell. 
 
 * Since the period in which the author visited Quebec, 
 Wolfe's monument has been completed. Lord Dalhousic, 
 with equal good feeling and good taste, has united th- lan es 
 of the rival heroes Wolfe and Montcalm in the dedication of 
 the pillar — a liberality of feeling that cannot but prove grati- 
 fying to the Canadian French, while it robs the 13ritish war- 
 rior of none of his glory. 
 
 The monument was designed by Major Young of the 97th 
 Regiment. To the top of the surbase is fourteen feet from 
 the ground : on this rests a sarcophagus, seven feet three 
 inches high, from which rises an obelisk forty-two feet eight 
 inches in height, and the apex is two feet one inch. The 
 dimensions of the obelisk at the base are six feet by four feet 
 eight inches. A prize medal was adjudged to J. C. Fisher, 
 LL.D., for the following inscription on the sarcophagus : — 
 
 Mortem Virtus communem 
 Famam Historia 
 Monumentum Posteritas 
 Dedit.* 
 
 On the surbase is an inscription from the pen of Dr. Mills, 
 stating he fact of the erection of the monument at tlie ex- 
 pense of Lord Dalhousie, Governor of Lower Canada, to 
 commemorate the death of Wolfe and Montcalm, Sept.13 and 
 14, 1759. Wolfe fell on the field ; and Montcalm, who was 
 wounded by the single gun in the possession of the English, 
 died on the next day after the battle, 
 
 * His courage gave him death, history fame, and posterity 
 a monument. 
 
DEPARTURE FROM QUEBKC. 
 
 25 
 
 Letter III. 
 
 Departure from Quebec. — Towed by a Steam-vessel. — Fer- 
 tility of the Countr}'. — Different Objects seen in sailing up 
 the River. — Arrival off Montreal. — The Rapids. 
 
 Brig Laurel, St. Laurence, below Montreal, 
 August 17, 1832. 
 
 It was after sunset, and a glorious evening, when we left 
 Quebec, which we did in company with a fine steam- 
 vessel, whose decks and gallery were crowded with 
 passengers of all descriptions. A brave sight she was to 
 look upon ; ploughing the bright waters which foamed 
 and sung beneath her paddles ; while our brig, with her 
 white sails, followed like a butterfly in her wake. The 
 heavens were glowing with the richest tints of rose and 
 saffron, which were reflected below on the bosom of the 
 river ; and then came forth the stars, in the soft blue 
 ether, more brilliant than ever I saw them at home, and 
 this, I suppose, I may attribute to the superior purity of 
 the atmosphere. My husband said this evening re- 
 sembled the sunsets of Italy. 
 
 Our voyage has proved a very pleasant one ; the 
 weather moderately warm, and the air quite clear. We 
 have within the last few days emerged from a cold, 
 damp atmosphere, such as we often experience in Britain 
 in the spring, to a delightful summer, moderated by light 
 breezes from the river. 
 
 The further we advance up the coimtry the more 
 fertile it appears. The harvest is ripening under a more 
 genial climate than that below Quebec. We see fields 
 of Indian com in full flower : it is a stately-looking crop, 
 with its beautiful feathery top tinted with a rich purple 
 
26 
 
 ' tA 
 
 
 ill 
 
 
 S 4i ) 
 
 t" 'III 
 
 BACKWOOi^S OF CANADA. 
 
 ■f :.tr*" *•'» •'"; Si-it; 
 
 . J was anxious to obtain « n • ' 
 
 Further back a rliffi. . '" * 
 
 tion appea.^'^lht t 1'^^ f buiWm^ and oultiva 
 handsome places nnW • ^"^ ^ame-housp^ n^« 7?" 
 
APPROACH TO MONTREAL. 
 
 27 
 
 ivaving m 
 I beautiful 
 y sheath ; 
 t, and has 
 sis, mice, 
 
 ! banks of 
 ?. I be- 
 both pro- 
 d in such 
 
 I situated 
 I St. liau- 
 Willlam 
 re several 
 er public 
 md, how- 
 Jems verv 
 
 lough 
 
 pultiva- 
 really 
 
 If trees 
 
 |aring. 
 
 Irently 
 jnery. 
 
 The country between Quebec and Montreal has all the 
 aj)pearance of having been under a long state of culti- 
 vation, especially on the right bank of the river. Still 
 there is a great portion of forest standing which it will 
 take years of labour to remove. 
 
 We |)assed some little grassy islands on which there 
 were many herds of cattle feeding. 1 was puzzling njy- 
 self to know how they got there, when the captain told 
 me it was usual for farmers to convey their stock to these 
 island pastures in flat-bottomed boats, or to swim them, 
 if the place was fordable, and leave them to graze as long 
 as the food continued good. If cows are put on an island, 
 within a reasonable distance of the farm, some person 
 goes daily in a canoe to milk them. While he was telling 
 me this, a log-canoe with a boy and a stout lass with tin 
 pails, paddled across from the bank of the river, and j)ro- 
 ceeded to call together their herd. 
 
 We noticed some very pleasant rural villages to the 
 right as we advanced, but our pilot was stupid, and could 
 not, or would not, tell their names. It was Sunday 
 morning, and we could just hear the quick tinkling of the 
 church bells, and distinguish long lines of caleches, light 
 waggons, with equestrians and pedestrians hastening 
 along the avenue of trees that led to the churchyard ; 
 besides these, were boats and canoes crossing the river, 
 bound to the same peaceful haven. 
 
 In a part of the St. Laurence, where the channel is 
 rendered difficult bv shoals a'ld sand-banks, there occur 
 little lighthouses, looking somewhat like miniature water- 
 mills, on wooden posts, raised above the flat banks on 
 which they are built. These droll little huts were in- 
 habited, and we noticed a merry party, in their holiday 
 clothes, enjoying a gossip with a party in a canoe below 
 them. They looked clean and smart, and cheerful 
 enough, but I did not envy them their situation, which 
 I should think far from healthy. 
 
 Some miles below Montreal the appearance of the 
 country became richer, more civilized, and populous; 
 while the distant line of blue mountains, at the verge of 
 the horizon, added an interest to the landscape. The 
 
28 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 •^^ 
 
 
 t^^ 
 
 I 'A 
 
 rich tint of ripened harvegt formed a beautiful contrast 
 with the azure sky and waters of the St. Laurence. The 
 scenery of the river near Montreal is of a very different 
 character to that below Quebec ; the latter possesses a 
 wild and rugged aspect, and its productions are evidently 
 those of a colder and less happy climate. What the 
 former loses in grandeur and picturesque effect, it gains 
 in fertility of soil and warmth of temperature. In the 
 lower division of the province you feel that the industry 
 of the inhabitants is forcing a churlish soil for bread ; 
 while in the upper, the land seems willing to yield her 
 increase to a moderate exertion. Remember, these are 
 merely the cursory remarks of a passing ti*aveller, and 
 founded on no personal experience. 
 
 There was a feeling of anxiety and dread upon our 
 minds that we would hardly acknowledge to each other 
 as we drew near to the city of the pestilence, as if 
 ashamed of confessing a weakness that was felt ; but no 
 one spoke on the subject. With what unmixed delight 
 and admiration at any other time should we have gazed 
 on the scene that opened upon us. 
 
 The river here expands into a fine extensive basin, 
 diversified with islands, on the largest of which Montreal 
 is situated. • 
 
 The lofty hill from which the town takes its name 
 rises like a crown above it, and forms a singular am; 
 magnificent feature in the landscape, reminding me 
 of some of the detached hills in the vicinity of Inver- 
 ness. 
 
 Opposite to the Quebec suburbs, just in front of the 
 rapids, is situated the island of St. Helens, a spot of in- 
 finite loveliness. The centre of it is occupied by a grove 
 of lofty trees, while the banks, sloping down to the 
 water, seem of the most verdant turf. The scene was 
 heightened by the appearance of the troops which g:?./- 
 rison the island. 
 
 The shores of the river, studded with richly culti- 
 vated farms ; the village of La Prairie, with the little 
 island of St. Ann's in the distance ; the glittering steeples 
 and roofs of the city, with its gardens and villas, — looked 
 
 1 
 
 si 
 
 hi 
 w] 
 
 ri 
 
 oti 
 
 vj^sm 
 
 mm 
 
RAPIDS BELOW MONTREAL. 
 
 29 
 
 lovely by the softened glow of a Canadian suninior 
 sunset. 
 
 The church bells ring:ing for evening ])raycr, with the 
 hum of voices from the shore, mingled not inharmoniously 
 with the rush of the rapids. 
 
 Tliese raj)ids are caused by a descent in the bed of the 
 river. In some ])laces this declination is gradual, in 
 others sudden and abrupt. Where the current is broken 
 })y :uasses of limestone or granite rock, as at the Cas- 
 cades, the Cedars, and the Long Sault, it creates whirl- 
 j)Ools an<l cataracts. But the rapids below Montreal are 
 not of this magnificent character, being niadeperce])til)le 
 only by the unusual swiftness of the water, and its sur- 
 face being disturbed by foam, and waving lines and dim- 
 ples. In short, I was disappointed in my expectation of 
 seeing something very grand ; and was half angry at 
 these pretty-behaved quiet rapids, to the foot of which 
 we were towed in good style by our faithful consort the 
 Brilish America. 
 
 As the captain is uncertain how long he may be de- 
 tained at Montreal, I shall send this letter without fur- 
 ther delay, and write again as soon as possible. 
 

 •It 
 
 ' M 
 
 
 • . 
 
 ■ i 
 
 ii- 
 
 1 
 
 m 
 
 \0 
 
 r 
 
 if 
 
 ' II' I 
 
 ■I 
 
 1 .i' . >' 
 
 m 
 
 
 ■It 
 
 Mi 
 
 \i 
 
 H 
 %\ 
 
 h 
 
 I 
 
 30 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 Letter IV. 
 
 Landing at Montreal. — Appearance of the Town. — Ravages 
 of the Cholera. — Charitable Institutions in Montreal. — 
 Catholic Cathedral. — Lower and Upper Town. — Company 
 and Conversation at the Hotel. — Writer attacked with the 
 Cholera. — Departure from Montreal in a Stage-coach. — 
 Embark at Lachine on board a Steam-vessel. — Mode of 
 travelling alternately in Steam-vessels and Stages. — Ap- 
 pearance of the Country. — Manufactures. — Ovens at a 
 distance from the Cottages. — Draw-wells. — Arrival at 
 Cornwall. — Accommodation at the Inn. — Departure from 
 Cornwall, and Arrival at Prescott. — Arrival at Brock- 
 ville. — Ship-launch there. — Voyage through Lake Onta- 
 rio. — Arrival at Cobourg. 
 
 Nelson Hotel, Montreal, August 21. 
 
 Onck more on terra firma, dearest mother: what a 
 strange sensation it is to tread the land once again, free 
 from the motion of the heaving waters, to which I was 
 now, in truth, glad to bid farewell. 
 
 By daybreak every creature on board was up and busily 
 preparing for going on shore. The caj)tain himself 
 obligingly escorted us, and walked as far with us as the 
 hotel, where we are at present lodged. 
 
 We found some difficulty in getting on shore, owing 
 to the badness of the landing. The river was full of 
 lloatiiig timbers, between which it required some skill 
 to guide the boat. A wharf k now being built — not be- 
 fore it was needed.* 
 
 We were struck by the dirty, narrow, ill-paved or un- 
 paved streets of the suburbs, and overpov/ered by the 
 
 * Some excellent wharfs have since been completed. 
 
 III 
 
 
1 
 
 APrEARAXCE OF MONTREAL. 
 
 31 
 
 —Ravages 
 [outreal. — 
 -Company 
 d with the 
 e-coach. — 
 —Mode of 
 iges. — Ap- 
 vens at a 
 \.rrival at 
 ture from 
 at Brock- 
 ike Orita- 
 
 iist 21. 
 
 what a 
 lin, free 
 I was 
 
 d busily 
 himself 
 as the 
 
 owing 
 
 fiiJI of 
 
 skill 
 
 lot be- 
 
 )r un- 
 
 py the 
 
 noisome vapour arising from a deep open fosse thui ran 
 along the street behind the wharf. This ditch seemed 
 the receptacle for every abomination, and sufficient in 
 itself to infect a whole town with malignant fevers.* 
 
 I wjis greatly disappointed in my first acquaintancre 
 with the interior of Montreal ; a place of which travellers 
 had said so much. I could compare it only to the fruits 
 of the Dead Sea, which are said to be fair and tempting to 
 look upon, but yield only ashes and bitterness when 
 tasted by the thirsty traveller.! 
 
 I noticed one peculiar feature in the buildings along 
 the sul)url) facing the river — that they were mostly fur- 
 iiished with broad wooden balconies from the lower to the 
 upper story ; in some instances they surrounded the 
 houses on three sides, and seemed to form a sort of outer 
 chamber. Some of these balconies were ascended by 
 flights of broad stairs from the outside. 
 
 * This has since been arched over. A market has been 
 erected above it. 
 
 f The following description of Montreal is given by 
 M'Gregorin his British America, vol. ii. p. 504: — "Jk'twixt 
 the royal mountain and the river, on a ridge of gentle eleva- 
 vation, stands the town. Including the suburbs, it is more 
 extensive than Quebec. Both cities differ very greatly in 
 appearance ; the low banks of the St. Laurence at Montreal 
 want the tremendous precipices frowning over them, and all 
 that grand sublimity which characterizes Quebec. 
 
 "There are no wharfs at Montreal, and the ships and 
 steamers lie quietly in pretty deep water, close to the clayey 
 and generally filthy bank of the city. The whole of the 
 lower town is covered with gloomy-looking houses, having 
 dark iron shutters ; and although it may be a little cleaner 
 than Quebec, it is still very dirty ; and the streets are not 
 only narrow and ill-paved, but the footpaths are interrupted 
 by slanting cellar-doors and other projections. 
 
 " It is impossible (says Mr. Talbot, in his Five Years' 
 Residence) to walk the streets of Montreal on a Sunday or 
 holiday, when the shops are closed, without receiving the 
 most gloomy impressions ; the whole city seems une vast 
 prison ;" — alluding to the window-shutters and outer doors of 
 iron, that have been adopted to counteract the effects of fire. 
 
 c2 
 
32 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 " t 
 
 >:>; 
 
 J: 
 
 !" 
 
 L:-; 
 
 ss^ 
 
 lu! 
 
 :• I I 
 
 I romcniber when a child dreaminpf of houses so con- 
 structed, and fancying them very delightful ; and so I 
 tliink they might be rendered, if shaded hy climbing 
 shrubs, and adorned with flowers, to represent a hang- 
 ing-garden or sweet-scented bowery walk. JJut nothing 
 of this kind gladdened our eyes as we toiled along the 
 hot streets. Every house of public resort was crowded 
 from the top to the bottom with emigrants of all ages, 
 English, Irish, and Scotch. The sounds of riotous mer- 
 riment that burst from them seemed but ill-assorted with 
 the haggard, careworn faces of many of the thoughtless 
 revellers. 
 
 The contrast was only too apparent and too painful a 
 subject to those that looked u})on this show of outward 
 gaiety and inward misery. 
 
 The cholera had made awful ravages, and its devas- 
 tating effects were to be seen in the darkened dwellings 
 and the mourning habiliments of all classes. An ex- 
 pression of dejection and anxiety appeared in the faces of 
 the few persons we encountered in our walk to the hotel, 
 which plainly indicated the state of their minds. 
 
 In some situations whole streets had b»rn nearly depo- 
 pulated ; those that were able fled panic-stricken to the 
 country villages, while others remained to die in the 
 bosom of their families. 
 
 To no class, I am told, has the disease proved so fatal 
 as to the poorer sort of emigrants. Many»of these, de- 
 bilitated by the privations and fatigue of a long voyage, 
 on reaching Quebec or Montreal indulged in every sort 
 of excess, especially the dangerous one of intoxication ; 
 and, as if purposely paving the way to certain destruction, 
 they fell immediate victims to the complaint. 
 
 In one house eleven persons died, in another seven- 
 teen ; a little child of seven years old was the only crea- 
 ture left to tell the woful tale. This poor desolate orphan 
 was taken by the nuns to their benevolent institu- 
 tion, where every attention was paid that humanity could 
 suggest. 
 
 The number both of Catholic and Protestant benevo- 
 lent societies is very great, and these are maintained with 
 
 
CHOLERA. 
 
 33 
 
 so con- 
 nd so I 
 
 jlimbing" 
 IV haiig- 
 riothinjj 
 cnig the 
 rowded 
 11 ages, 
 us mer- 
 ed witli 
 iglitlcss 
 
 ainful a 
 3Utward 
 
 dcvas- 
 vd lings 
 An ex- 
 faces of 
 
 hotel, 
 
 ^depo- 
 to the 
 in the 
 
 ;o fatal 
 36, de- 
 
 action, 
 
 seven- 
 
 crea- 
 
 |rphan 
 
 istitu- 
 
 Icould 
 
 Inevo- 
 with 
 
 a liberality of* principle that does honour to both parties, 
 who seem indeed actuated bv a fervent sinrit of Chris- 
 tian charity. 
 
 I know of no place, not even excej)ting London itself, 
 where the exercise of benevolent feelings is more called 
 for than in these two cities, Quebec and Montreal. Here 
 meet together the unfortunate, the imj)rovident, the 
 helpless orphan, the sick, the aged, the poor virtuous 
 man, driven by the stern hand of necessity from his 
 country and his home, perhaps to be overtaken by sick- 
 ness or want in a land of strangers. 
 
 It is melancholy to reflect that a great number of the 
 poorest class of emigrants that perished in the reign of 
 the cholera have left no trace by which their sorrowing 
 anxious friends in the old country may learn their fate. 
 The disease is so sudden and so violent that it leaves no 
 time for arranging worldly matters ; the sentinel comes 
 not as it did to llezekiah, " Set thine house in order, for 
 thou shalt die, and not live." 
 
 The weather is sultry hot, accompanied by frequent 
 thunder-showers, which have not the ettect one would 
 expect, that of cooling the heated atmosphere. I ex- 
 perience a degree of languor and oppression that is very 
 distressing, and worse than actual pain. 
 
 Instead of leaving this place by the first conveyance 
 for the upper province, as we fully purposed doing, we 
 find ourselves obliged to remain two days longer, owing 
 to the dilatoriness of the custom-house officers in over- 
 looking our packages. The fact is that everything and 
 everybody are out of sorts. 
 
 The heat has been too oppressive to allow of my walk- 
 ing much abroad. I have seen but little of the town be- 
 yond the streets adjacent to the hotel : with the excep- 
 tion of the Catholic Cathedral, I have seen few of the 
 public buildings. With the former I was much pleased : 
 it is a fine building, though still m an unfinished state, 
 the towers not having been carried to the height ori- 
 ginally intended. The eastern window, behind the altar, 
 is seventy feet in height by thirty-three in width. The 
 effect of this magnificent window from the entrance, the 
 
34 
 
 
 BACKwoow or cAK^n*. 
 
 fn«n k ^^"tish traveller Ti. P "P^^^^^o" on the 
 lnot...j ^ '^^^^^ With erardens anW i ' ^ ^"^ houses 
 
 top to bottom ,he"^i,,ai^dcS "'^r'' " P^^tete 
 »' groves and Canadian scenerv fA "'' "Z'^'-^'' '''nitetion 
 of the cuy the river, andaPlh"""'^'" «"Pe'-b v ew 
 
 I 
 
SCENERY or MONTREAL. 
 
 :55 
 
 and its rity with ifs streets and public buildiupfs, lie at 
 your I'l'ot : with such ohjiKts before you the eye may 
 well be charmed with the scenery of Aiontreal. 
 
 We receive the jrreatest attention from th(» master of 
 the hotel, who is an Italian. The servants of the hr)usc 
 are very civil, and the company that we meet at the or- 
 dinary very respectable, chiefly emiu:rants like our.-el\e<, 
 with some lively French men and women. The table is 
 well supj>lie<l, and the charges for board and lodging one 
 dollar per day each.* 
 
 1 am aunised with the variety of characters of which 
 our talile is composed. Some of the emigrants appear 
 to entertain the most sangtiine hopes of success, appear- 
 ing to foresee no ditiicuUies in carrying their schemes 
 into effect. As a contrast to these there is one of my 
 countrymen, just returned from the western district on 
 his way back to Englan<l, who entreats us by no means 
 to go further up this horrid coimtry, as he emphatically 
 styles the Upper Province, assuring us he would not li\c 
 in it for all the land it contained. 
 
 He had been induced, hy reading Cattermole's 
 jmmphlet on the subject of Emigration, to quit a good 
 farm, and, gathering together what property he possessed, 
 to embark for Canada. Encouraged by the advice of a 
 friend in this country, he purchased a lot of wild land in 
 the western district; "but, sir," said he, addressing my 
 husband with much vehemence, *' 1 found I had been 
 vilely deceived. Sucli land, such a country — I would 
 not live in it for all I could see. Why, there is not a 
 drop of wholesome water to be got, or a potato that is fit 
 to eat. I lived for two months in a miserable shed 
 they call a shanty, eaten up alive with mosquitoes. I 
 could get nothing to eat but salted pork, and, in short, 
 the discomforts are unbearable. And then all my farm- 
 ing knowledge was quite useless — people know nothing 
 
 about farming in this country 
 
 1^' 
 
 hv, it would have 
 
 broken my heart to work among the stumps, and never 
 
 * This hotel is not of the highest class, in which the 
 cliarge is a dollar and a half per day. — Ed. 
 

 3G 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 and the little one iS'u, I "'.""g'" "f mv poor »^f„ 
 .-condition, have LgLd tt I'v''' ^'"^'""' bettS^^^ 
 
 "ought hei-outfroiithpnn,^f . At ''«'"■' to havo 
 
 I'l-'^e, not so good as «• o of n 5 " "I ^"&'''"'' ^ such a 
 
 ^» I shall just go home and HtT''?"'^* "'•^tables, and 
 
 ;o"'s what sortofacou'ntr. *(.••''''? * ^^^ "" my neigh- 
 '"•ow up their fi,.l ?"?"y tbis ,s they are all ern,;;,!" 
 
 , " ''""'just go home- in,) jct J , *"""^ stab es, and 
 •ours what sortofacou'ntr. *(.••''''? * ^^^ "" my neigh- 
 ''.'■ow up their farms and eom^L'^ 'beyare allerazi„|to 
 "lino again." "" ""'"^ 'o, never trust a word of 
 
 it was tn n,^ ^ ,. 
 
 . "o"'"- ' — ^" "uoi a word oi 
 
 -tf hi?: orthear:/?:ir'' p^-^^- p-c„targ„ed 
 
 ^"''1 ho done: heCi trT^^'l'"" '''''' ««d That 
 they stayed an hour inaWu^ ''^^ t'^ "'<''•'' foo's if 
 execrating those pereonsTh'^^i '"'.""' '' and ended bv 
 home bylheir false 7,^L ^° deceived the ,„.0Dle I 
 
 l-l- ai^ the adva't^g: ™S"t fi?l"'" "" '" ' ^«- 
 the disadvantages, as tt; might Llld"^ * ^•''""« ^''h 
 -rersons are ant in AiJ-^.^ "O- 
 
 ;e deceived," saiTm^VuS • ''f r.^'^ • »^ '^«'" as to 
 their minds on any one subieet ' • ii""^ having once fixed 
 
 those things that accord v^thlhliW-'r*'?.'' «"'' Relieve 
 ihis vouno- mor. "^"^,'"eir wishes." 
 
 finding aJi thrngfas f^an;"'? ""^ disappointed in „ot 
 had never reflected on the sub^T"* T '' ^ome. U^ 
 heen so foolish as to sunn! T^' "'' ''<> '^""'d not have 
 fie")ties in his fi"t ouLTfn teTtT" ^"^?"""''- "<> d^- 
 " e are prepared to meet w^th f """."* '" 'he woods 
 dure rnnsirlo™!.!- . ^ec with manv ohafani^, .„ . " 
 
 !;''d''?"^;yi:rmoti7 1 wJ t'l". ?y '-' 'e«er I 
 bysimnsethe '-ollowingday Lh!''.'?"''' '<'«^<' Montreal 
 
 o 7 , but m this we were doomed 
 
ILLNESS OF THE AUTHORESS. 
 
 37 
 
 to be disappointed, and to experience the truth of thosci 
 words: "Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou 
 knowest not what an hour may bring forth." Early that 
 very morning, just an hour before sunrise, I was seized 
 with the symptoms of the fatal malady that had made so 
 many homes desolate. I was too ill to commence my 
 journey, and, with a heavy heart, heard the lumbering 
 wheels rattle over the stones from the door of the 
 hotel. 
 
 I hourly grew worse, till the sister of the landlady, an 
 excellent young woman, who had previously shown mo 
 irreat attention, persuaded me to send for a physician ; 
 and my husband, distracted at seeing me in such agony, 
 ran off to seek for the best medical aid. After some little 
 delay a physician was found. I was then in extreme 
 torture ; but was relieved by bleeding, and by the vio- 
 lent fits of sickness that ensued. I will not dwell mi- 
 nutely on my sufferings, suffice to say, they were in- 
 tense ; but God, in his mercy, though he chastened and 
 afflicted me, yet gave me not over unto death. From 
 the females of the house I received the greatest kindness. 
 Instead of fleeing affrighted from the chamber of sick- 
 ness, the two Irish girls almost quarrelled which should 
 be my attendant ; while Jane Taylor, the good young 
 woman I before mentioned, never left me from the time 
 I grew so alarmingly ill till a change for the better had 
 come over me, but, at the peril of her own life, supported 
 me in her arms, and held me on her bosom, when I was 
 struggling with mortal agony, alternately speaking peace 
 to me, and striving to soothe the anguish of my poor 
 afflicted partner. 
 
 The remedies applied were bleeding, a portion of 
 opium, blue pill, and some sort of salts — not the common 
 Epsom. The remedies proved effectual, though I 
 suffered nmch from sickness and headache for many 
 hours. The debility and low fever that took place of 
 the cholera, obliged me to keep my bed some days. 
 During the two first my doctor visited me four times a 
 day ; he was very kind, and, on hearing that 1 was the 
 wife of a British oflBcer emigrating to the Upper Pro- 
 
 C 3 
 
III . J pr. 
 
 ' ill 
 
 ft III 'I 
 '■■ffc 
 
 i V'' 
 
 38 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 ^'ice, he seemed more th»„ 
 
 co/ery, evincW a svm„«7f. Z''^'" '"'^rested in mv re 
 
 several days, I wfs atlast Jo„"'""'^. pnfine^nt of 
 convalescent state to beg?n* P™".°""^ed in a suiiieientJy 
 
 weak that I „.as seareely^ble t^ sCo J' """!='' ^"" «» 
 
 ■I he sun had not vet ril„ t ^"I'Port myself, 
 tafee ns to Laehine-^l fi^,^?" ">«. «*«/c that was (o 
 drove up to the door and „ ?".? '""''« «'' our route 
 place in which our hCs ori^'^'^^u'^'"''' ft'-cwell t" «' 
 those of pleasure leT W.TTl '"«' ""-«" "any a„d 
 a reat deal of kindnei frot Vh '"''^'^'•' "^^P^^nced 
 though perfect strane-Pr« I. 7 ""'*'' around us anrf 
 puality tor which'^l^f^^ t ofTen "b '"""' ,"' "■« "- 
 omitted, m my former iJtJr, n " °*^" celebrated I 
 an acouaintance w"h a hth. '"^ ^°" '""^«e formed 
 th's place, who ^iffordJ^fiiTrT^'" merchaTin 
 ation, and introduced Ts t!T "" v' °^ "^'"■'" in'o m" 
 ad accomplished young wonl n"^-' * ^^^-^ elegant 
 
 tufbed state, and there was the • ^P'i*' '" "'«!'• per" 
 
 bnn^mg to our mindrM^retVl''".^- "^ «'• A»ne's, 
 
 Wells,ngatSaintAnnTsout^^'?-^''T '"'«' «ong 
 1 he bank of the St r „ Partwg hymn " 
 
 Jay, U higher here than at m""?' f^ "^'ch o„r road 
 brushwood on the summit "''''•'' ""'^ ''""led whfa 
 narrow gullcys. The ""la' neo"""""'-^ '"•'"«"> with 
 ^aruly or light loam. I noHce^fu "* .^ ^o-'I^ see, was 
 first tune twining amon" u "^ "''; "''d vine for thp 
 raspberry bushes, too a„d^a Sv.f ''''''"^^- There were 
 flower we call A^ronVp-oldi' '"?" °' t^"" fa" yelW 
 white love-everlastina- fh! "''' " ««*«'3</o and thi 
 
 made of by the Freth ^H' *''"* ''>« '^hafi It: 
 tombs of their friends, and wlllh'lh^'''''^ *" in th^ 
 the Americans call it ii/eXerlttg X''!! i^'^^ 
 
 6 ) *«is»o a tall purple- 
 
 ■'' /■ -f, .vi 
 
 » * 
 
LAcnnnc. 
 
 33 
 
 in my re- 
 3ry grate- 
 ement of 
 ifficientJy 
 ^h stiJl so 
 
 • 
 
 at was to 
 lir route, 
 veil to a 
 any, and 
 erienced 
 us, and, 
 the hos- 
 ated. I 
 i formed 
 'hant in 
 in form- 
 elegant 
 hort ac- 
 it their 
 
 ng the 
 
 |t to see 
 t chain 
 
 r per- 
 
 nne's, 
 
 song: 
 
 |r road 
 
 with 
 
 with 
 
 , was 
 
 ir the 
 
 were 
 
 jllow 
 
 the 
 
 are 
 
 the 
 \elle ; 
 rple- 
 
 sf)ikcd valerian, that I observed growing in the fields 
 among the corn, as plentiful as the bugloss is in our 
 light sandy fields in England. 
 
 At Lachine we quitted the stage and went on board 
 a steamer, a fine vessel elegantly fitted up with every 
 accommodation. I enjoyed the passage up the river ex- 
 ceedingly, and should have been delighted with the 
 journey by land had not my recent illness weakened me 
 so nuich that I found the rough roads very unpleasant. 
 As to the vehicle, a Canadian stage, it deserves a much 
 ligher character than travellers have had the candour to 
 give it, and is so well adapted for the roads over which 
 it passes that I doubt if it could be changed for a more 
 suitable one. This vehicle is calculated to hold nine 
 persons, three back, front, and middle ; the middle seat, 
 which swings on broad straps of leather, is by far the 
 easiest, only you are liable to be disturbed when any of 
 the passengers choose to get out. 
 
 Certainly the travelling is arranged with as little 
 trouble to the traveller as possible. Having paid your 
 fare to Prescott you have no thought or care. W hen 
 you quit the steam-boat you find a stage ready to receive 
 you and your luggage, which is limited to a certain pro- 
 I)ortion. When the portage is passed (the land carriage), 
 you find a steam- vessel ready, where you have every 
 accommodation. The charges are not immoderate, con- 
 sidering the comforts you enjoy. 
 
 In addition to their own freight, the steamers gene- 
 rally tow up several other vessels. We had three 
 Durham boats at one time, beside some other small craft 
 attached to us, which certainly afforded some variety, if 
 not amusement. 
 
 With the exception of Quebec and Montreal, I must 
 give the preference to the Upper Province. If not on 
 so grand a scale, the scenery is more calculated to 
 please, from the appearance of industry and fertility it 
 displays. I am delighted, in travelling along the road, 
 with the neatness, cleanliness, and comfort of the cot- 
 tages and farms. The log- house and shanty rarely 
 occur, having been supplanted by pretty frame-houses, 
 
^ f if 'I 
 
 
 m 
 
 '' m. • ■ 
 
 40 
 
 BACKWOODS or CANADA. 
 
 ami "'•^•'ards, binding down LT,h'' ""^^^ ^^tations 
 pPl'es, plums, and thp aT • "" " "''^ harvest of 
 '"tie scarlet apples so ofterrr„T''' """'^ ''-«" 'M 
 among our sweetmeats at home ^ ^ "' " "■«' P'-«^«"e 
 
 J^oii see none of* thn • 
 r"'«wies. No ragged dirtT ."'' T/"^ <"• «« attendant 
 "' m^d or dust; but minv'.,?!'"^ children, dabblfn^ 
 
 OraiUed locks, while the vounZr' -l """^ht eyes and 
 the green turf or on tho fh Pf.^""'* ""ere seated on 
 
 ■^ There "\ '"'*• ''"'"'"^ and sh,;,,^ 
 
 spinning-wheeb'thlt are S P''='"':«sq"e in the great 
 "•ng the wool, and f irf '" ""* '^"""fy for InTn 
 our Canadian iasseVthe ' fnt^^ '° "^ ^'"d^ed aSg 
 or cal<:ulated to show off Z ^ ""i^ '"°''<' becomin/ 
 fine hgure than spinniL at h! T'""?' advantages of "a 
 does not sit, but Ulfcs to 1h r ""^ *''«•''• The spins „r 
 one hand while with he oThlr^"' ^"ing the ^^-^ wth 
 
 I often noticed, as we n.I i i, T ""« "heel, 
 hanks of yarn of diftlLf „ 1 ^^ *''« cottage farms 
 
 ^en or orchard fen4eoX?tr ''^"^'"/o" The 
 of colours, green, blue, pum^ ' u'"''^ ^'''"•« «" manner 
 jA civd landlady, at whosef, ' ^"'"'"' ''«'' and white 
 horses, told m ■ theL hanks 7;" '"^ ^'''PP^'' "> ehangt 
 then dved by the good wL IT ""r ""^t ^P"" a.fd 
 cLh"°r.; Sheshow^^'^ som''p''''?'"{-*V«'"?«'^nt 
 dirl 'h'"*"''' T^^y '"""^ed "erv well t!*"' '"'"'^-sp"n 
 I,r„i^"'"' *«"'<"'' bein- tjfe n '^ ^' "'^^ " dullish 
 
 ^fee.'"'-'-" ^^ -de-^rdl^n^;!;: 
 
 htVe^y"a-^hi^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 weH^nd comfitabl/Iored'"^ """ "'''"''' *» -« ihom 
 
 a -^^t.^'nlllle-:^'^- y;^^^^^^^ so thriving 
 
 / jeaisag-0, nothing but 
 
SPl JiNl>'G-WH EELS. — OVENS, 
 
 41 
 
 Indian hunting-grounds. The industry cf men, and 
 many of them poor men, that had not a rood of land 
 of their own in their own country, has etlected this 
 change." 
 
 1 was much gratified by the reflection to which this 
 good woman's information gave rise. *' We also are 
 going to purchase wild land, and why may not we see 
 our farm, in process of time," thought I, " equal these 
 fertile spots ? Surely this is a blessed country to which 
 we have emigrated," said I, pursuing the pleasing idea. 
 *' where every cottage abounds with the comforts and 
 necessaries of life." 
 
 I perhaps overlooked at that time the labour, the diffi- 
 culties, the privations to which these settlers had been 
 exposed when they first came to this country. I saw it 
 only at a distance of many years, under a high state of 
 cultivation, perhaps in the hands of their children or 
 their children's children, while the toilworn parent's 
 head was low in the dust. 
 
 Among other objects my attention was attracted by 
 the appearance of open burying grounds by the roadside. 
 Pretty green mounds, surrounded by groups of walnut 
 and other handsome timber trees, contained the graves 
 of a family, or may be, some favoured friends slej)t 
 quietly below the turf beside them. If the ground was 
 not consecrated, it was hallowed by the tears and 
 prayers of parents and children. 
 
 These household graves became the more interesting 
 to me on learning that when a farm is disposed of to a 
 stranger, 'he right of burying their dead is generally 
 stij)ulated for by the former possessor. 
 
 You must bear with me if I occasionally weary you 
 with dwelling on trifles. To me nothing that bears the 
 stamp of novelty is devoid of interest. Even the clay- 
 built ovens stuck upon four legs at a little distance from 
 the houses were not unnoticed in passing. When there 
 is not the convenience of one of these ovens outside the 
 dwellings, the bread is baked in large iron pots — '* hake- 
 hettles^' they are termed. I have already seen a loaf as 
 big as a peck measure baking on the hearth m one of 
 
•■Pi' 
 
 mi 
 W 
 
 m 
 
 
 Urn I 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 42 
 
 BACKWOODS OP CA2.ADA. 
 
 i'hieh differed Tn'.r^'-:^ ''°l'«« ^ad a d«w.weJI n. •. 
 from thosp r h J "" contrivance fop r,;!: I "<^'"" '*> 
 
 " 'ever to rt.C. J"?^ P"'"- ^"PPorted il\ ^^^ P'''" ''s 
 
 -o,?;:?''! o^«Xnr£ 9/p^on'':^ 
 peatenrtr'-''-^'^-^-''^"^^ 
 
 cades of wh eh the"!!n If "^ ""^ «'• w"e?"'f r' "P" 
 
 H^-n t fair °^"-fi"«rtT*'' 
 
 - Upper Cana5a?:'Scht"no7^„ "'■""'^'^^"'' vCk 
 these3l*r°"*^ntou,^erves^?i;l7 "°.°"^ so we 
 
 i--* 
 
 — €vH-\„ 
 
 ■N.<. 
 
 ■,*.. •■^V.'"""^ 
 
 ■v't.'. 
 
 y 
 
ik the con- 
 
 the bread 
 
 ed in brick 
 
 3 out what 
 
 upon four 
 
 lives till I 
 
 loaves out 
 
 road -side, 
 
 3ll near it, 
 the water 
 he plan is 
 >st, acts as 
 be raised 
 method is 
 hain, and 
 person at 
 ntion this 
 3 country, 
 r means.* 
 icent ap- 
 the cas- 
 |from the 
 jtempt to 
 to yon, 
 [lis work 
 uainted 
 'ast our 
 r here 
 so we 
 iight of 
 
 Corn- 
 travel 
 ^nce a 
 that 
 
 may 
 Lon- 
 fface. 
 
 CANADIAN STAGE, 
 
 43 
 
 night. Our example was followed by a widow lady and 
 her little family. 
 
 We had some difficulty in obtaining a lodging, the 
 inns being full of travellers ; here, for the first time, we 
 experienced something of that odious manner ascribed, 
 though doubtless too generally, to the American. Our 
 host seemed perfectly indifferent as to the comfort of his 
 guests, leaving them to wait on themselves or go without 
 what they wanted. The absence of females in these 
 establishments is a great drawback where ladies are tra- 
 velling. The women keep entirely out of sight, or treat 
 you with that oftensive coldness and indifference that you 
 derive little satisfaction from their attendance. 
 
 After some difficulty in obtaining sight of the landlady 
 of the inn at Cornwall, and asking her to show me a 
 chamber where we might pass the night, with a most 
 ungracious air she pointed to a door, which opened into 
 a mere closet, in which was a bed divested of curtains, 
 on ) chair, and an apology for a wash-stand. Seeing me 
 in some .ismay at the sight of this uninviting domicile, 
 she laconically observed there was that or none, unless I 
 chose to sleep in a four-bedded room, which had three 
 tenants in it, — and those gentlemen. This alternative I 
 somewhat indignantly declined, and in no very good 
 humour retired to my cabin, where vile familiars to the 
 dormitory kept us from closing our weary eye- lids till 
 the break of day. 
 
 We took an early and hasty breakfast, and again com- 
 menced our journey. Here our party consisted of my- 
 self, my husband, a lady and gentleman with three small 
 children, besides an infant of a month old, all of whom, 
 from the eldest to the youngest, were suffering from 
 hooping-cough ; two great Cumberland miners, and a 
 French pilot and his companion,— this was a huge am- 
 phibious-looking monster, who bounced in and squeezed 
 himself into a corner-seat, giving a knowing nod and 
 comical grin to the driver, who was in the secret, and in 
 utter defiance of all remonstrance at this unlooked-for 
 intrusion, cracked his whip with a flourish, that appeared 
 
44 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 ..'"n 
 
 Mm 
 
 i»' 
 
 1 1' 
 
 1:1 i 
 
 $'■ 
 
 mm 
 
 !l H' 
 
 Wi 
 
 
 lii 
 
 to be reckoned pretty considerably smart by two Ameri- 
 can travellers that stood on either side the door at the 
 inn, with their hats not in their hands nor yet on their 
 heads, but slung by a black ribbon to one of their waist- 
 coat buttons, so as to fall nearly under one arm. This 
 practice I have seen adopted since, and think if Johnny 
 Gilpin had but taken this wise precaution he might have 
 saved both hat and wig. 
 
 I was dreadfully fatigued with this day's travelling, 
 being literally bruised black and blue. We suffered 
 much inconvenience from the excessive heat of the day, 
 and could well have dispensed with the company of two 
 out of the four of our bulky companions. 
 
 We reached Prescott about five the same afternoon, 
 where we met with good treatment at the inn ; the 
 female servants were all English, and seemed to vie with 
 each other in attention to us. 
 
 We saw little in the town of Prescott to interest or 
 please. After an excellent breakfast we embarked on 
 board the Great Britain, the finest steamer we had yet 
 seen, and here we were joined by our new friends, to our 
 great satisfaction. 
 
 At Brockville we arrived just in time to enjoy what 
 was to me quite a novel sight — a ship-launch. A gay 
 and exciting scene it was. The sun shone brilliantly on 
 a concourse of people that thronged the shore in their 
 holiday attire ; the church bells rang merily out, ming- 
 ling with the music from the deck of the gaily painted 
 vessel that, with flags and streamers, and a well-dressed 
 company on board, was preparing for the launch. 
 
 To give additional effect, a salute was fired from a 
 temporary fort erected for the occasion on a little rocky 
 island in front of the town. The schooner took the 
 water in fine style, as if eager to embrace the element 
 which was henceforth to be subject to her. It was a 
 moment of intense interest. The newly launched was 
 greeted with three cheers from the company on board 
 the Great Britain, with a salute from the little fort, 
 and a merry peal from th<? bells, which were also 
 
LAKE ONTARIO. 
 
 45 
 
 WO Ameri- 
 Gor at the 
 et on their 
 heir waist- 
 rra. This 
 if Johnny 
 light have 
 
 travelling, 
 e suffered 
 f the day, 
 ny of two 
 
 afternoon, 
 
 inn ; the 
 
 vie with 
 
 nterest or 
 )arked on 
 ^e had yet 
 ds, to our 
 
 ijoy what 
 A gay 
 
 iantly on 
 in their 
 
 t, ming- 
 paintcd 
 dressed 
 
 from a 
 le rocky 
 )ok the 
 jlement 
 it was a 
 led was 
 board 
 le fort, 
 re also 
 
 ninjr in honour of a pretty bride that came on board 
 with iier bridegroom on their way to visit the falls of 
 Niagara. 
 
 Brockville is situated just at the entrance of the lake 
 of the Thousand Islands, and presents a pretty appear- 
 ance from the water. The town has improved rapidly, 
 1 am told, within the last few years, and is becoming a 
 place of some importance. 
 
 The shores of the St. Laurence assume a more rocky 
 and [)icturesque aspect as you advance among its thou- 
 sand islands, which present every variety of wood and 
 rock. The steamer put in for a supply of fire- wood 
 at a little village on the Americansideof the river, where 
 also we took on board five-and-twenty beautiful horses, 
 which are to be exhibited at Cobourg and York for 
 sale. 
 
 There was nothing at all worthy of observation in the 
 American village, unless I except a novelty that rather 
 amused me. Almost every house had a tiny wooden 
 model of itself, about the bigness of a doll's house (or 
 buby-house, 1 think they are called), stuck up in front 
 of the roof or at the gable end. I was informed by a 
 gentleman on board, these baby-houses, as I was pleased 
 to call them, were for the swallows to build in. 
 
 It was midnight when we passed Kingston, so of 
 course I saw nothing of that " key to the lakes,'* as I 
 have heard it styled. When I awoke in the morning 
 the steamer was dashing gallantly along through the 
 waters of the Ontario, and I experienced a slight sensa- 
 tion of sickness. 
 
 When the waters of the lake are at all agitated, as 
 they sometimes are, by high winds, you might imagine 
 yourself upon a tempest-tossed sea. 
 
 The shores of the Ontario are very fine, rising in 
 waving lines of hill and dale, clothed with magnificent 
 woods, or enlivened by patches of cultivated land 
 and pretty dwellings. At ten o'clock we reached 
 Cobourg. 
 
 Cobourg, at which place we are at present, s a neatly 
 built and flourishing village, containing many good 
 
'Iff 
 
 46 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 ^ 0-riiOITOW we Inatr^ /'^ / 
 
 i: 
 
 
 lif'i 
 
 We 
 
 ber 
 
 robe 
 
 men 
 
 able, 
 
 the 
 
 after 
 
 ofter 
 
 warn 
 
 trees 
 
 count 
 
 of tl» 
 
 pleasi 
 
 ]WStll] 
 
 Tk 
 a miJe 
 
 situate 
 sive vi 
 As yo 
 of the 
 bold SI 
 
 The 
 hilly 
 
JOURNEY FROM COBOURG TO AMHERST. 
 
 47 
 
 Letter V. 
 
 Journey from Cobourg to Amherst. — Difficulties to be en- 
 countered on first settling in the Backwoods. — Appearance 
 of the Country. — Rice Lake.— Indian Habits. — Voyage 
 up the Otanabee. — Log-house, and its Inmates. — Passage- 
 boat. — Journey on foot to Peterborough 
 
 Peterborough, Newcastle District, 
 September 9, 1S32. 
 
 We left Cobourg on the afternoon of the 1st of Se )tem- 
 ber in a lighl waggon, comfortably lined with ouHalo 
 robes. Our fellow-travellers consisted of three gentle- 
 men and a young lady, all of whom proved very agree- 
 able, and willing to afford us every information respecting 
 the country through which we were travelling. The 
 afternoon was fine, one of those rich mellow days we 
 often experience in the early part of September. The 
 warm hues of autumn were already visible on the forest 
 trees, but rather spoke of ripeness than decay. The 
 country round Cobourg is well cultivated, a great portion 
 of the woods having been superseded by open fields, 
 ))lcasant farms, and fine fiourishing orchards, with green 
 pastures, where abundance of cattle were grazing. 
 
 The county gaol and court-house at Amherst, about 
 a mile and a half from Cobourg, is a fine stone edifice, 
 situated on a rising ground, which commands an exten- 
 sive view over the lake Ontario and surrounding scenery. 
 As you advance further up the country, in the direction 
 of the Hamilton or Rice Lake plains, the land rises into 
 bold sweeping hills and dales. 
 
 The outline of the country reminded me of the 
 hilly part of Gloucestershire j you want, however, 
 
mm 
 
 
 I Ilk. 
 
 
 'ti: 
 
 i m, i' 
 
 
 ' IP^ 
 
 ii; !!i 
 
 
 
 4S 
 
 "■^CKWocs or CANAiu. 
 
 and ti.o„ aS'v. If i T'''^'' «•"' '«i -„ , o fl "r ''"''' 
 "^"""l ''V an Ic 'i "'■^ l''''<NeovcrtH I M, "' """ 
 
 tCU'i:'^ 7" - eoun.5^'' Evif th" ""^ ^'^" '-S' 
 
 I „„ ij ""-> at all events ,.<■. — -l' «'ar to be Jitil 
 I could see a smile hover 'ntT"'?'''^"""''"'-'- 
 
 necessarily b^J"/" f*^^ backwoods, vonr h 
 
 Matters are "ot^ * ^^' ' '''•'« ere^D* anrf *f ^ "''='' 
 
 home; a„7tl"e° r. th T/th?" '''""' -" -■' 7 het" as'"; 
 ance with fK« a i ^ ^"^s a verv fcur »,« i , ^ ^^ at 
 
 . * Derived from i„f , ' " """""-^ »^* 
 
 "ave strength toTaif "''^ '=«'-'»^ on all.fo„rs before they 
 
■*'o ominonflv 
 untie viJIup;;. 
 
 ['nsivo<lovvn«i. 
 Hero tlio l)«,|,| 
 7<l, with ii(,u 
 ills, only en. 
 its lo^r-housc 
 nees are v<'rv 
 3 rieh hed^^J. 
 >ne fenees in 
 bare as they 
 Jr, invariably 
 and money, 
 lerved ; it 'is 
 r to be Jittk' 
 at ions. 
 ' my fellow - 
 ans for the 
 
 house must 
 gentleman, 
 le country. 
 ■y of a saw- 
 many ob- 
 years, that 
 these im- 
 
 ADVICE i'BOM A SEITLER. 
 
 40 
 
 fore they 
 
 done with so much expedition. I am sure I liave lieard 
 and read of houses being built in a day." The old jyen- 
 tlenian laughed. 
 
 " Yes, yes,' he replied, ** travellers find no <litiieulty 
 ill putting up a house in twelve or twenty-four liours, 
 and so the log walls can be raised in that time or even 
 li'ss ; but the house is not completed when the outer 
 walls arc up, as your husband will find to his cost." 
 
 " IJut all the works on emigration that I have read," 
 replied I, '* give a fair and flattering picture of a settler's 
 lite ; for, according to their statements, the ditficultics 
 are easily removed." 
 
 " Never mind books," said my companion, '' use your 
 own reason. Look on those interminable forests, through 
 w liich the eye can only penetrate a few yards, and tell 
 me how those yast timbers are to 1 removed, utterly 
 extirpated, I may say, from the face of the earth, the 
 ground cleared and burnt, a crop sown and fenced, and 
 a house to shelter you raised, without difficulty, without 
 expense, and without great labour. Never tell me of 
 what is said in books, written very frequently by tarry- 
 at-home travellers. Give me facts. One honest, can- 
 did emigrant's experience is worth all that has been 
 written on the subject. Besides, that which may be a 
 true picture of one part of the country will hardly suit 
 anotlier. The advantages and disadvantages arising from 
 soil, situation, and progress of civilization, are very dif- 
 ferent in different districts : even the prices of goods and 
 of produce, stock and labour, vary exceedingly, accord- 
 inar as you are near to, or distant from, towns and mar- 
 ked." 
 
 I began to think my fellow-traveller spoke sensibly on 
 the subject, with which the experience of thirteen years 
 had made him perfectly conversant. I began to appre- 
 hend that we also had taken too flattering a view of a 
 setder's life as it must be in the backwoods. Time and 
 our own personal knowledge will be the surest test, and 
 to that we must bow. We are ever prone to believe 
 that which we wish. 
 
 About half-way between (.^obourg and the Rice Lake 
 
I II -a 
 
 mm 
 mm 
 
 mm 
 
 ml 
 
 m 
 
 mm 
 
 mm 
 
 mm 
 
 is IN' '1 
 
 Mil 
 
 UK' 
 
 
 
 iW^ 
 
 liii 
 
 f ilciS* 
 
 60 
 
 BACKIVOOW OP CAXAD^. 
 
 th": ;: a^J^fij";/ between tuo steep hi,,, „ 
 
 place is oaHed the « Co dT''- '""'' ""d TtL^n ^f^ 
 some cenfiirir ^ . ^^" •^pnne-s '* Wu .^"^^ j the 
 
 nadian Bath or Ch2^r." '" "^""^ «''« vvS.'TA^ ^ 
 ■Nature revek in k^P*""" way gnrfno- .. / ^ ^'■ 
 
 , Wenowt^.td'the'n'^"" o^CtrX"'"^ "-"^ 
 
 ^oii I intmf "f ' ''■"'• «"■« ^<4es «t' l""/ ^'^ ■•""i 
 with ricf htt""*^"' '"»•"'' «nd is covered i '7 *"'''' ''-">- 
 
 inferior! 3i'e^,J^\^,^^ Tfcf^ ''' '"'^^^ 
 
 portion nf 7»^ ^ ^""^^ of nark-Ji£ . considerable in- 
 i" ."on ot the countrv LV^^^^^ ^Ppearance m *i,- 
 ^o be, that the plains L^i ^^^.P^evaiiing. oninL ^'' 
 "Would amw^^ il ^^^^ out m irrB7ir.S "Pmion seems 
 
 ""•i thl iabo l/tet"?'' can ■be?;tX:d''^"'r 
 
 ""^h '«ss than wL^r^l^ t ^°"'"' i' netr f' 
 Ihere are several L„ '^^'"'"^ covered wi/h i''.^ 
 considerable fkrl i^?*'*-!' on these plai^ ' "'''°''.- 
 ^ \cH],hy and reeabieT"*"?" ' ^ «hou,Tth?2-^«'"g 
 o* the land anW .k . ' "'0"' the eleva*;-. ,' """st 
 
 tl>e country'beW ,h ^''^'"'' P™'pect7hev ' '''^"''' 
 
 ■the ground itself i<f ^, P."^"""<»<3«e shores ilt'-M^' 
 ^»l'cy, sometimero.el,P'?^''r'g'r brokenTt^hm ■'''!; 
 an^aWst precipit^r'^ ^'^'P'"^' ''' °'i>er 'ttes" 1^ 
 
 one 01 our partjr at 
 
CIVILIZATIOX OF THE INDIANS. 
 
 51 
 
 hills. Ilore 
 tavern; the 
 
 knows, but 
 y become a 
 ers ? A Ca- 
 > where now 
 
 !S. 
 
 on ov Jand— 
 nd I ^re and 
 irubs. Tile 
 « told, con- 
 iarge tracks 
 r the finest 
 flowers and 
 garden in 
 hs. Man) 
 
 1 are rarelv 
 '00, though 
 ore pictur- 
 lerabJe in- 
 
 •e to this 
 
 ion seems 
 airy farms 
 IS there is 
 prn -crops, 
 p abund- 
 jdyantage 
 
 directly, 
 Icessariiy 
 
 wood. 
 
 •ssessing 
 
 ik, must 
 
 dryness 
 land of 
 Lake, 
 
 |visible. 
 
 ill and 
 
 abrupt 
 
 breakfast the following morning, told mo that those 
 plains were formerly famous hunting-grounds of the 
 Indians, who, to prevent the growth of the timbers, 
 burned them year alter year : this, in process of time, 
 destroyed the young trees, so as to i)revent them again 
 from accumulating to the extent they formerly did. 
 sutKcient only was left to form coverts ; for the deer 
 resort hither in great herds, for the sake of a peculiar 
 tall sort of grass with which these plains abound, called 
 doer-grass, on which they become exceedingly fat at cer- 
 tain seasons of the year. 
 
 Evening closed in before we reached the tavern on 
 the shores of the Rice Lake, where we were to pass the 
 night ; so that I lost something of the beautiful scenery 
 which this fine expanse of water presents as you descend 
 the plains towards its shores. The glimpses I caught of 
 it were by the faint but frequent flashes of lightning that 
 illumined the horizon to the north, which just revealed 
 enough to make me regret I could see no more that 
 night. The Rice Lake is prettily diversified with small 
 wooded islets : the north bank rises gently from the 
 water's edge. Within sight of Sully, the tavern from 
 which the steam-boat starts that goes up the Otanabee, 
 you see several well -cultivated settlements ; and beyond 
 the Lidian village, the missionaries have a school for the 
 education and instruction of the Indian children. Many 
 of them can both read and write fluently, and arc greatly 
 improved in their moral and religious conduct. They 
 are well and comfortably clothed, and have houses to 
 live in. But they are still too much attached to their 
 wandering habits to become good and industrious settlers. 
 During certain seasons they leave the village, and en- 
 camp themselves in the woods along the borders of those 
 lakes and rivers that present the most advantageous hunt- 
 ing and fishing-grounds. 
 
 The Rice Lake and Mud Lake Indians belong, I am 
 told, to the Chippewas ; but the traits of cunning and 
 v\arlike ferocity that formerly marked this singular people 
 seem to have disappeared beneath the milder intluencc 
 oi Christianity, 
 
mm 
 
 
 J #1'! ■ ■ ''' 
 1 '■■! J:!! Ill 
 
 llll! 
 
 mm 
 
 r-i :i:f 
 
 h ''11 fi • ' 
 
 mm 
 
 ml 
 
 mm 
 
 111 
 life- 
 
 'mm 
 
 Uilf''S 
 
 52 
 
 B-'CK,v.>„I.. or CAN AW. 
 
 v^ertain it is th^f fi 
 !v-on is the «m'';,te':f:'"^"""" "'^ "^^ Christian re 
 
 ntk nT^-'"''* o*' Pi'i dice Zm'"*'' '" '^'■'•''''' ^ov 
 
 ti»ed by some families • l,„» ? f^'t'ience is still nra/ 
 spirits has aeain (JZ-' ' "'^ '»'« the love „f L' 
 "Po.. their a Ti "i^r r ,"'«">. bringinVdis'e :^;i' 
 
 -Joy thra^t tS :?ti1" r •'""- '^^ s!l 
 
 b"t lam t7d thT ht: fl^'^^-'s^n the Riee Uko 
 inhabitants bein^ sS . . "?' considered healihv i ' 
 pecialiy wheieTh» •"'i '° 'ake-ibvers and n^' ""* 
 
 *ove.a^„dtgrt!;;te!,^^r''"''-^^^ 
 
 Jhetat^Th? "-^* "'^"'^ Sr^^^^ 
 
 Jiesiaes numerous small „* '"-'ous mfluence. 
 
 two considerable rheTlLAT'l^'''^ «"ed c,e,z, 
 nnd an outJpf fr.^ *k • ' "^ Otanabee anH *i r,, ^^'*' 
 rivers nrn '^ ^^^^^ waters in thp P- t /^^^ ^^^^nt, 
 
 'vhieh will gte' von th/^ ''•"'" P"Wiihed "t ci '""'' 
 
 :i 
 
 V 
 
1 
 
 ( 51 ) 
 
 Christian re- 
 ilizaiion and 
 break cIovmi 
 t3, and unite 
 I have been 
 known, and 
 iy abstained 
 5 still prac- 
 ^ of ardent 
 ig discredit 
 ■ wondered 
 n that call 
 icated, and 
 dulging to 
 i suffer his 
 "ty, which 
 have been 
 'ed on the 
 in indul- 
 crinie of 
 of educa- 
 
 ice Lake, 
 thy, the 
 igue, es- 
 rhese 
 originate 
 nation in 
 surfiace 
 tend to 
 that art 
 
 cree/is, 
 1 rent, 
 These 
 which 
 I send 
 bourg, 
 of the 
 irpose 
 
 
 %S£^,^V^<'y?«' 
 
 ,l.:!;^lllllli■li,^:'■l.ii':' ^^lZm:^Si i Mi:-!, lit ^ 
 
 I «, > 
 
 J I 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 yj 
 
fm 
 
 km 
 
 mm 
 
 ' ■■im 
 
 64 
 
 
 "•'CK^.OODS or c^.v^i,,i. 
 
 - m contemplation, ^i &/;, ;^,f--;"li7 supposeS^ 
 In? "'^^^''"ageous to the TptHl ""''"*" the r shore" 
 
 b olT? '^"^' "•''ich ;^.evcm ITT ""'' """'^"'''no! 
 
 ■ I'f 
 
 advantage through the It i-' ""'"<='' "Ppeared to MM 
 i'lad to shroud n^ face ;„'''""" '■"■"' '"'»• wh eh I " " 
 
 ;"t«tvvo .months at Us e„t ' '^''''' ^^^^^^ divid. I 
 
 cultivation T».-^?'^' ^^ ^vvamp/to hi ^'^^ ^>^ ^^ 
 it to ho?, • . .'' beautiful river /^x . ^'"^ "n'^er 
 
( 65 ) 
 
 of these 
 [)p{)sed to 
 eij' shores 
 
 th('v are 
 imestone, 
 s or flat- 
 these are 
 e-named 
 1(1 Jakes, 
 le whole 
 the Bay 
 cessari ly 
 1 of the 
 ted that 
 3ver de- 
 
 un usual 
 , and a 
 P little 
 1 I 
 
 was 
 
 >i 
 
 there 
 than 
 n-boat 
 
 y-ap- 
 
 m the 
 lee of 
 sur- 
 ilong 
 with 
 'anoe 
 :)ug'li 
 
 ided 
 
 )ya 
 
 ider 
 
 tder 
 
 iks, 
 
 (the 
 
 mc 
 
 
 Silver Pine. 
 
 i»2 
 
56 
 
 BACKWOODS or CANADA. 
 
 
 : W 
 
 forth in all the brilliant beauty of a September day. So 
 completely were we sheltered from the wind by the 
 thick wall of pines on either side, that I no longer felt 
 the least inconvenience from the cold that had chilled 
 me on crossing the lake in the morning 
 
 To the mere passing traveller, who cares little for the 
 minute beauties of scenery, there is certainly a monotony 
 in the long and unbroken line of woods, which insensibly 
 inspires a feeling of gloom almost touching on sadness. 
 Still there are objects to charm and delight the close ob- 
 server of nature. His eye will be attracted by fantastic 
 bowers, which are formed by the scarlet creeper (or 
 Canadian ivy) and the wild vine, flinging their closely- 
 entwined wreaths of richly tinted foliage from bough to 
 bough of the forest trees, mingling their hues with tho 
 splendid rose-tipped branches of the soft maple, the au- 
 tumnal tints of which are unrivalled in beauty by any of 
 our forest trees at home. 
 
 The purple clusters of the grape, by no means so con- 
 temptible in size as I had been led to imagine, looked 
 temptingly to my longing eyes, as they appeared just 
 ripening among these forest bowers. I am told the 
 juice forms a delicious and highly-flavoured jelly, boiled 
 with a sufficient quantity of sugar ; the seeds are too 
 large to make any other preparation of them practicable. 
 I shall endeavour, at some time or other, to try the im- 
 provement that can be effected by cultivation. One is 
 apt to imagine where Nature has so abundantly bestowed 
 fruits, that is the most favourable climate for their attain- 
 ing perfection with the assistance of culture and soil. 
 
 The waters of the Otanabee are so clear and free 
 from impurity that you distinctly see every stone, pebble, 
 or shell at the bottom. Here and there an opening in 
 the forest reveals some tributary stream, working its 
 way beneath the gigantic trees that meet above it. The 
 silence of the scene is unbroken but by the sudden rush 
 of the wild duck, disturbed f: ^ its retreat among the 
 shrubby willows, that in some - .ts fringe the left bank, 
 or the shrill cry of the kingfir .ei , as it darts across the 
 water. The steam-boat put i i for a supply of fire-wood 
 
 — I 
 
WATERS OF THE OTANABEE. 
 
 w 
 
 at a clearing about half-way from Peterborough, and I 
 gladly availed myself of the opportunity of indulging my 
 inclination for gathering some of the splendid cardinal 
 flowers that grew among the stones by the river's brink. 
 Here, too, I plucked as sweet a rose as ever graced an 
 English garden. I also found, among the grass of the 
 meadow land, spearmint, and, nearer to the bank, pep- 
 permint. There was a bush resembling our hawthorn, 
 which, on examination i d to be the cockspur haw- 
 thorn, with fruit as large u^ cherries, p 'y*"". and of a 
 pleasant tartness not much unlike to taiwurnids. The 
 thorns of this tree were of formidable length and strength. 
 I should think it might be introduced with great advan- 
 tage to form live fences ; the fruit, too, would prove by 
 no means contemptible as a preserve. 
 
 As I felt a great curiosity to see the interior of a log- 
 house, I entered the open door-way of the tavern, as the 
 people termed it, under the pretext of buying a draught 
 of milk. The interior of this rude dwelling presented 
 no very inviting aspect. The walls were of rough un- 
 hewn logs, filled between the chinks with moss and irre- 
 gular wedges of wood to keep out the wind and rain. 
 The unplastered roo^ displayed the rafters, covered with 
 moss and lichens, green, yellow, and grey ; above which 
 might be seen the shingles, dyed to a fine mahogany- 
 red by the smoke which refused to ascend the wide clay 
 and stone chimney, to curl gracefully about the roof, 
 and seek its exit in the various crannies and aper- 
 tures with which the roof and sides of the building 
 abounded. 
 
 The floor was of earth, which had become pretty hard 
 and smooth through use. This hut reminded me of the 
 one described by the four Russian sailors that were left 
 to winter on the island of Spitzbergen. Its furniture 
 was of corresponding rudeness ; a few stools, rough and 
 unplaned ; a deal table, which, from being manufactured 
 from unseasoned wood, was divided by three wide open 
 seams, and was only held together by its ill-shaped legs ; 
 two or three blocks of grey granite placed beside the 
 hearth served for seats for the children, with the addition 
 
"liM 
 
 '■'(' •■■■I 
 
 ' '3 d f n 
 
 Mkw 
 
 ^i m ■ 
 
 Jli- 
 
 
 i: If " 
 
 wm 
 
 58 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 of two Ijcds raised n li.ii„ i , ' 
 
 of split cedars On those ,„'? *'"^ *^™""'' ^^ a frame 
 
 «o poor „,on, suffU fun ^ -y""""-'. '^^'exteS 
 
 liike-levor. Their v.l fe, ?•■• '''" ""stin-r effects nf 
 
 .-ted with the^; Sz^t^ r^>^<^^^<:!^ 
 
 ■1 telt much conocrned (br tU . ' " "' <overed them 
 >5>e they had not l-een manfv,S'r';r^"''' "'"> 'oTj 
 
 able The wiv^l td"£ t^t " ^ ^«' ""-• 
 ■lot a house or even shantv n? , • "■ *^"''' ""d had 
 bands having fallen ill, ^c:^ „"','"[ 7" "''• ">« l"'-'- 
 mueh of the little ,„o„ey tW [ i" u ° «">'"''%' ! and 
 thorn had been expende I ^-i, h7 i"'' i"'""^''* out with 
 -"-orable place, whieuley cfcif,"? '°^g'"S i" thb 
 tavern. I eannot say liy, ^y 'he name of a 
 *?your of their hostefs , W, /'""'"'^ Prepossessed i 
 s.des the various emiSnl "^ ' '"'"'""' """'an. ' 
 that lodged within ZZCu' ^T"' ""^ '^^hildrc, 
 or another description A fil , "^'■'"'"^« had ten.', s 
 corner; some piL roam«l ""'■" °^"'P''^d » pen n i 
 with some half/do'zenTwIs ^The""" "''''« ■" ^"'M'^u" 
 >vere three snow-white pi±on? \T^ '''"'■''"■■™ object 
 "g: "P crumbs, and lookhS "s 'f H " ""'■<' '"^'=t'y pick- 
 
 "~.r^t4th11!o"'^^^^^^^^^^^^ '" '"''"'' 
 
 ^d to the raplU:, ttl n^^ *e';iver at this season, 
 . hole way to Peterborough and ! ""'^^^ '" g" «P (he 
 It IS sometmics termed -3°!,..' ^ ^^°"' "'' row-boat a. 
 rnachine-^^meets the pas'se'n = rs IZ'f^'- ^^^''^oZnoA 
 CI I'r'". «'&ht of i singC n np?""""" l^"''' °'' 'he 
 iJank; this ,s termed the - vTnf l'""'" °" the right 
 fancied resemblance of th„ i""" bonnet," from C 
 cap worn by the Vn„l "P""*' houghs to a sn« f 
 
 bonnet of .Se-'otland.'"'""^' ""' ™"^h "-"ike fhe^bJut 
 
 L'nfortunatelv fhn o* 
 
 miles below the usual plaelT.'^f "^"""d ^on,e four 
 
 •II near four o'clock «C the sen"'''",^' ""^ "« waked 
 
 appearance, we found to our d"' ^''°" " ""ade its 
 
 (e'ght m number, and a« Irisht'nT'^'"'' "'^ ™"«^» 
 
 ^risfimen) were ui-der the 
 
i 
 
 CO ) 
 
 Spruoe. 
 
60 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 < ' 1 
 
 
 li'S" 
 
 ?>!■:•!;■ 
 
 m 
 
 exciting influence of a cag of whisky, which they had 
 drunk dry on the voyage. They were moreover exas- 
 perated by the delay on the part of the steamer, which 
 gave them four miles additional heavy rowing. Beside a 
 number of passengers, there was an enormous load of fur- 
 niture, trunks, boxes, chests, sacks of wheat, barrels ol 
 flour, salt, and pork, with many miscellaneous packages 
 and articles, small and great, which were piled to a 
 height that I thought very unsafe both to goods and 
 passengers. 
 
 With a marvellous ill grace the men took up their 
 oars when their load was completed, but declared they 
 would go on shore and make a Are and cook their din- 
 ners, they not having eaten any food, though they had 
 taken large potations of the whisky. This measure 
 was opposed by some of the gentlemen, and a fierce and 
 angry scene ensued, which ended in the mutineers fling- 
 ing down their oars, and positively refusing to row 
 another stroke till they had satisfied their hunger. 
 
 Perhaps I had a fellow-feeling for them, as I began 
 to be exceedingly hungry, almost ravenous, myself, 
 having fasted since six that morning ; indeed, so faint 
 was I, that I was fain to get my husband to procure me 
 a morsel of the coarse uninviting bread that was produced 
 by the rowers, and which they ate with huge slices of 
 raw pickled pork, seasoning this unseemly meal witli 
 curses '* not loud, but deep," and bitter taunts against 
 those who prevented them from cooking their food like 
 Christians. 
 
 While I was eagerly eating the bit of bread, an old 
 farmer, who had eyed me for some time with a mixture 
 of curiosity and compassion, said, " Poor thing: well, 
 you do seem hungry indeed, and I dare say are just out 
 from the otUd country, and so little used to such hard 
 fare. Here are some cakes that my woman (i,e. wife) 
 put in my pocket when I left home ; I care nothing for 
 them, but they are better than that bad bread ; take *em, 
 and welcome." With these words he tossed some very 
 respectable home-made seed-cakes into my lap, and ti'uly 
 
IBISU BOATMEX. 
 
 61 
 
 
 never was anything more welcome than this seasonable 
 refreshment. 
 
 A sullen and ploomy spirit seemed to prevail among 
 our boatmen, which by no means diminished as the even- 
 ing drew on, and *' the rapids were near." The sun had 
 set, and the moon and stars rose brilliantly over the still 
 waters, which gave back the reflection of this glorious 
 multitude of heavenly bodies. A sight so passing fair 
 might have stilled the most turbulent s))irits into peace ; 
 at least, so I thought, as, wrapped in my cloak, I leant 
 back against the supporting arm of my husband, and 
 looked Irom the waters to the sky, and from the sky to 
 the waters, with delight and admiration. My ])leasant 
 reverie was, however, soon ended, when I suuuenly felt 
 the boat touch the rocky bank, and heard the boatmen 
 protesting they would go no farther that night. We 
 were nearly three miles below Peterborough, and how I 
 was to walk this distance, weakened as I was by recent 
 illness and fatigue of our long travelling, I knew not. 
 To spend the night in an open boat, exposed to the heavy 
 
 dews arising from the river, would be 
 
 almost death. 
 
 While we were deliberating on what to do, the rest of 
 the passengers had made uj) their minds, and taken the 
 way through the woods by a road they were well ac- 
 quainted with. They were soon out of sight, all but one 
 gentleman, who was bargaining with one of the rowers 
 to take him and his dog across the river at the head of 
 the rapids in a skiff. 
 
 Imagine our situation, at ten o'clock at night, without 
 knowing a single step of our road, put on shore to find 
 the way to the distant town as we best could, or pass 
 the night in the dark forest. 
 
 Almost in despair, we entreated the gentleman to be 
 our guide as far as he went. But so many obstacles 
 beset our path in the form of newly-chopped trees and 
 blocks of stone, scattered along the shore, that it was 
 with the utmost difficulty we could keep him in sight. 
 At last we came up with him at the place appointed to 
 meet the skiff, and, w ith a pertinacity that at another 
 
 j)3 
 

 ()2 
 
 DACKWOODS or CANADA. 
 
 .'5; 
 
 
 
 11 •;!!' 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 ■i ■ 
 
 , 
 
 iS; 11 li.: 
 
 . 
 
 ^;>ii 
 
 m 
 
 .iltt,.I 
 
 !■ ' 
 
 ' , 
 
 If 1 
 
 Hill 
 
 ^ Jif'. 
 
 hi 
 
 ■■ It. 
 
 I !•! 
 
 I' 
 
 i Kiii' '1.. 
 
 time and in other circumstances \vc never should haw 
 u(l()|)ti<(l, wo all but insisted on bcin^^ admitted into thi 
 boat. An an<iry gi-ovviiufjr consent was extorted (rom the 
 surly Charon, and we hastily entered the frail bark, 
 whieli seemed hardly calculated to convey us in safety to 
 the opposite shores. I could not help in(lulp:ing m a 
 feeling of in<lescribable fear, as I listened to the torrent 
 of profane invective that burst forth continually from the 
 lips of the boatman. Once or twice we were in danger 
 of being ovei-set by the boughs of the pines and cellars 
 which had fallen into the water near the banks. Right 
 glad was I when we reached the op[)osite shores ; but 
 here a new trouble arose ; then; was yet more untracked 
 wood to cross before we again met the skiff which had to 
 pass up a small rapid, ar.d meet us at the head of the small 
 lake, an expansion of the Otanabee, a little below Peter- 
 borough. At the distance of every few yards our path 
 was obstructed by fallen trees, mostly hendock, spruce, 
 or cedar, the branches of which are so thickly interwoven 
 that it is scarcely possible to separate them, or force a 
 passage through the tangled thicket which they form. 
 
 Had it not been for the humane assistance of our con- 
 ductor, I know not how I should have surmounted these 
 difficulties. Sometimes I was ready to sink down from 
 very weariness. At length I hailed, with a joy I could 
 hardly have supposed possible, the gruff voice. of the Irish 
 rower, and, alter considerable grumbling on his part, we 
 were again seated. 
 
 Glad enough we were to see, by the blazing light of 
 an enormous log-heap, the house of our friend. Here 
 we received the oiier of a guide to show us the way to 
 the town by a road cut through the wood. We partook 
 of the welcome refreshment of tea, and, having gained a 
 little strength by a short rest, we once more commenced 
 our journey, guided by a ragged, but polite, Irish boy, 
 whose frankness and good humour quite won our regards. 
 He informed us he was one of seven orphans, who had 
 lost father and mother in the cholera. It was a sad 
 thing} he said, to be left ii^therless and motherless, in a 
 
 itiHi 
 
should haw 
 :t'<I into the 
 c'd from (ho 
 
 <VuiI bark, 
 in siii'cty to 
 i'p:ing m a 
 tlio torrent 
 y from the 
 
 in danger 
 md cedars 
 s. Ili«ilit 
 ores; but 
 untraeked 
 th [)ad to 
 
 the sniali 
 )vv Peter- 
 
 our path 
 :, spruce, 
 ter woven 
 r force a 
 i'orm. 
 our con- 
 ed these 
 ^n from 
 
 I could 
 10 Irish 
 •art, we 
 
 light of 
 
 Here 
 way to 
 >artook 
 ined a 
 lenced 
 
 boy, 
 ?ards. 
 had 
 a sad 
 
 in a 
 
 DirricuLTiEs or the wat. 
 
 63 
 
 gtran^'C hind ; and he swept away the tears that patliered 
 in Ids eyes as he tohl the simple, Initsatl tale of'liis early 
 bereavcuienl ; but added, cheerfully, ho had met with a 
 kind mujiter, who had taken some of hi j l)r()thers and 
 sisters into Irs service as well as himself. 
 
 Just as we were emerging lron> the gloom of the wood 
 we found our j)ro;rress impeded hy i\ crcfik, as the boy 
 called it, over which he told us we must pass by a log- 
 bridge before we could get to the town. Now, the log- 
 bridire was composed of one log, or ratlicr a fallen tree, 
 thrown across the stream, rendered very slippery by the 
 heavy dew that Iiad risen from the swamp. As the 1 )g 
 admitted of only one person at a time, 1 could receive no 
 assistance from my companions ; and, though our I'ttic 
 guide, witli a natural politeness arising Irom the benevo- 
 lence of his disposition, did me all the service in big 
 power l»y holding tiie lantern close to the surli ^^ to 
 tiirow all the liglit he could on the subject, I had he 'II 
 luck to fall in up to my knees in the water, my head 
 turning ijuitj giddy just as I caine to the last stej) or 
 two ; thus was I wet as well as weary. To add to our 
 misfortune we saw the lights (lisaj)pear, one by one, in 
 the village, till a solitary candle, glimmering from the 
 upper chambers of one or two houses, were our only 
 beacons. We had yd a lodging to seek, and it was near 
 midnight before we reached the door of the principal 
 inn ; there, at least, thought 1, our troubles for to-night 
 will end ; but great was our niortificatio'* »•:! being told 
 there was not a spare bed to bo had in the house, every 
 one being occupied by emigrants going up to one of the 
 back townships. 
 
 I^ould go no farther, and wc petitioned for a p.lace 
 by tne kitchen fire, where wc might rest, at least, if not 
 sleep, and I nnght dry vcy wet garments. On seeing 
 my condition the landlady took compassion on me, led 
 rae to a blazing fire, wliich her damsels quickly roused 
 up ; one brought a warm bath for my feet, w hile another 
 provided a v.arm potation, which, I really believe, 
 strange and unusual to my lips as it was, did me good : 
 in short, we received every kindness and attention that 
 

 ii$lm 
 
 
 
 ff:y!lll 
 
 
 
 64 
 
 BACKWOODS or CAXADA. 
 
 Fare«el],ffly dearest Mother. 
 
 i J 
 
 4 
 
'•elinquished 
 "ting them- 
 
 TOWA* OF PETERBOROUGH. 
 
 65 
 
 Letter VI. 
 
 Peterborough. — Manners and Language of the Americans. — 
 Scotch Engineman. — Description of Peterborough and its 
 Environs. — Canadian Flowers. — Shanties. — Hardships 
 suffered by first Settlers. — Process of establishing a 
 Farm. 
 
 Peterborough, Sept. 11, 1832. 
 
 It is now settled that we abide here till after the govern- 
 ment sale has taken place. We are then to remain with 
 S and his family till we have got a few acres chop- 
 ped, and a log-house put up on our own land. Having 
 determined to go at once into the bush, on account of 
 our military grant, which we have been so fortunate as 
 
 to draw in the neighbourhood of S , we have fully 
 
 made up our minds to enter at once, and cheerfully, on 
 the privations and inconveniences attending such a situ- 
 ation ; as there is no choice betw*^en relinquishing that 
 great advantage and doing our settlement duties. We 
 shall not be worse off than others who have gone before 
 us to the unsettled townships, many of whom, naval and 
 military officers, with their femilies, have had to struggle 
 with considerable difficulties, but who are now beginning 
 to feel the advantages arising from their exertions. 
 
 In addition to the land he is entitled to as an officer 
 in the British service, my husband is in treaty for the 
 purchase of an eligible lot by small lakes. This will 
 give us a water frontage, and a further inducement to 
 
 bring us within a little distance of S ; so that we 
 
 shall not be quite so lonely as if we had gone on to our 
 government lot at once. 
 
 We have experienced some attention and hospitality 
 
mm 
 
 Ill' 
 
 m 
 
 ■«« 
 
 . ^'# 
 
 i 
 
 6(5 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 fjo^rroSi:'; ts?-^- ^-wou^h. .v. . 
 
 fe™.!^ and goo/ oduc i r^'^^roLT"^ °*' re^peS L" 
 nothing better than whaf »„ i, ^f"" ^ ^"""e 'X 'n fact 
 ?o«^ns at home ^"g^.t"^^ """ '" 'ho'eountry 
 '"Canada holds a veryS ' ' '^' T' ""« storekeeper 
 of the English village The J'l '™'" ">« ^''^Pl^eeper 
 chants and bankers of the „lL •"''^l'^'^ "'•« the mer- 
 Almost alJ money matti,^ ^ T '" '"'^'''^ «hey reside 
 
 'hat must distingu Lh ^h^ Jtf''"'""°" ""d ~rs 
 ?eemg that the labour n^ Zf "^Pl '" "''^ country 
 mdustrious, may soon "4oZ ' hfs t ^ ^"'^^"'"nd 
 worldly possess bns Tho ;„ * ^"Jual in point nf 
 
 It IS the mind that fonnsThe a3^ T" "'' "dueation' 
 classes m this country "V„^ d'stmction between the 
 ^ We had heard s7much ff 2 H?" '' ^°^'' •'" 
 Yankees in this cou,Z that r "''?''""<''•« "f the 
 
 surprised by the few sZ'i^en^ of nf • '^^^''' ^^''^^ably 
 I have seen. They wire for ^L ^'"''^ -Americans that 
 behaved people, ^he onlv n .""'? '^''t. Po'ito, well- 
 then, wer^ a 'certain nasa^tlLT-"""""^^' ^ obser;ed „ 
 Y odd phrases ; but fl eie we^-! '", '^^^''S, and some 
 dass who "guess • and ' "JX^";^'^- "\?^ ^y the lower 
 we do. One of their most rema&e''J'"'"."'<'^« '^an 
 ^"atever work requires to Ttt If^t fj^^;' 
 
MANNEBS OF THE AMERICANS. 
 
 67 
 
 There is 
 >fficers and 
 and store- 
 espectable 
 is, in fact, 
 10 country 
 ;orekeeper 
 liopkeeper 
 } the mer- 
 3y reside, 
 hem, and 
 sequence, 
 igistrates, 
 ncial par- 
 ties them 
 itry, you 
 is no un- 
 I military 
 inter, or 
 rs' chop- 
 by such 
 manners 
 country, 
 ent and 
 oint of 
 be ever 
 cation, 
 en the 
 
 of the 
 
 [eeably 
 
 IS that 
 
 well- 
 ^ed in 
 
 some 
 llower 
 
 than 
 
 '.red. 
 
 " Fix tiic room,** is, set it in order. ** Fix the table," — 
 " Fix the fire," says *5 -"^ mistress to her servants, and the 
 things are fixed accor-'^ingly. 
 
 I Mas amused one day by hearing a woman tell her 
 husband the chimney wanted fixing. I thought it 
 soemod secure enough, and was a little surprised when 
 the man got a rope and a few cedar boughs, with which 
 he dislodged an accumulation of soot that caused the fire 
 to smoke. The chimney being Ji.red, all went right 
 again. This odd term is not confined to the lower orders 
 alone, and, from hearing it so often, it becomes a stand- 
 ard word even among the later emigrants from our own 
 country. 
 
 With the exception of some few remarkable expres- 
 sions, and an attempt at introducing line words in their 
 e very-day conversation, the lower order of Yankees have a 
 decided advantage over our English peasantry in the use 
 of grammatical language ; they speak better English than 
 you will hear from persons of the same class in any part 
 of England, Ireland, or Scotland ; a fact that we should 
 be unwilling, I suppose, to allow at home. 
 
 If I were asked what appeared to me the most striking 
 feature in the manners of the Americans that I had 
 met with, I should say it was coldness approaching to 
 apathy. I do not at all imagine them to be deficient in 
 feeling or real sensibility, but they do not suffer their 
 emotion to be seen. They are less profuse in their 
 expressions of welcome and kindness than we are, 
 though probably quite as sincere. No one doubts their 
 hospitality ; but, after all, one likes to see the hearty 
 shako of the hand, and hear the cordial word that makes 
 one feel oneself welcome. 
 
 Persons who come to this country are very apt to con- 
 found the old settlers from Britain with the native Ame- 
 ricans ; and when they meet with people of rude, 
 offensive manners, using certain Yankee words in their 
 conversation, and making a display of independence not 
 exactly suitable to their own aristocratical notions, they 
 immediately suppose they must be genuine Yankees, 
 while they are, in fact, only imitators ; and you weU 
 
' ' - Ml " iifn 
 
 :l»('' 
 
 ^■tl' 
 
 ';' fili^i (li: 'ill' ; 
 
 
 Pfllfi 
 
 es 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 fetir'*''^*"''*'' -'-ion, «Wa,swo.e than 
 
 of equality, especialinie Tnfi • ""^"r"" «"'' ^ffeetatioa 
 S?oteh ; the ELglish Jess so 'w"" ^^' "^ ^"^^ ^ 
 tamed by the be&viour of a v I "'^'"^ "^ther enter- 
 neer of the steamer on rnvVr^.^'^'^^hman, the en! 
 «fcrence to the Z:n:^eZ^"^^^t"'''''^'''^^ l"™ «S 
 ";„7,T« '"--'y. and fl "^t' i° „ he engme. His man. 
 avoided the least approach tT„ I' ^® scrupulously 
 ^I'ect ; nay. he even «^Tso t f "'^ '^ ""tv^ard re^ 
 bench close beside ,„e "Id nh, '". ''.^* ''^^''^ O" the 
 many advantages this country ff"!'' "''" " among the 
 '■0 dW not reckon it he it^of 11;'' '» T'^^'"^ ^'"oW™ 
 obliged to take off his Ct „h !" ""^ *■« "as no 
 (meaning persons of our del^^" he spoke to people 
 other title than theirnamf t ?^ ''''•^fcss them by ^y 
 take his seat beside any gentlema.^n' ^'^ '=""''' ^oS 
 
 laughing at this^L.llJ ; "but' I do'^hf '''" '" "•««■"!" from 
 rate the advantage of snrh „ • m""" ^°" ^^atly ove" 
 oblige the iadyof ge,t£nP, ''''^''' ^"^ you cannot 
 •"on of your qualiSon^r r"''"'^''' "'^^"c opt 
 yoa unless it pllases them i do t ^.""^1^!"^ be/de 
 I rose up and left the indeLnden; ^'"^ ^'''^ "-ords 
 a little confounded at the^n^ g«n«leman evidently 
 recovered his self-possessin^^"'"'^ •. however, he soon 
 axe he held in hisTnd ^r^id^'^./r'' '-''"^"^ti^ 
 guess bemg born a poor' man " ' ^' '^ "o ''"'^e, I 
 
 iXone in the worM " «« T- i 
 birth is not of Co';, jffl "^ ^^and ; « a man's 
 
 atttrjinrb^^or^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 affi?:tif;rtrirr 'S.\ r'" f -'-*-» 
 
 aga-n .peatin, ,,3 satisCrat ^l^X^f;^ 
 
A SCOTCH ENGINEER. 
 
 69 
 
 this country to take off his hat, or speak with respect to 
 gentlemen, as they styled themselves. 
 
 " No one, my friend, could have obliged you to be 
 well mannered at home any more than in Canada. 
 Surely you could have kept your hat on your head if you 
 had been so disposed ; no gentleman would have knocked 
 it off, I am sure. As to the boasted advantage of rude 
 manners in Canada, I should think something of it if 
 it benefited you the least, or put one extra dollar in 
 vour pocket ; but I have my doubts if it has that profit- 
 able efiect." 
 
 *' There is a comfort, I guess, in considering oneself 
 equal to a gentleman.'* 
 
 " Particularly if you could induce the gentleman to 
 think the same." This was a point that seemed rather 
 to disconcert our candidate for equality, who com- 
 menced whistling and kicking his heels with redoubled 
 energy. 
 
 " Now," said his tormentor, " you have explained 
 your notions of Canadian independence ; be so good as 
 to explain the machinery of your engine, with which 
 you seem very well acquainted." 
 
 The man eyed my husband for a minute, half sulking, 
 half pleased at the implied compliment on his skill, and, 
 walking oft' to the engine, discussed the management of 
 it with considerable fluency, and from that time treated 
 us with perfect respect. He was evidently struck with 
 my husband's reply to his question, put in a most dis- 
 courteous tone, " Pray, what makes a gentleman ? I '11 
 thank you to answer me that." " Good manners and 
 good education," was the reply. "A rich man or a 
 high-born man, if he is rude, ill-mannered, and ignorant, 
 is no more a gentleman than yourself." 
 
 This put the matter on a different footing, and the 
 engineer had the good sense to perceive that rude fami- 
 liarity did not constitute a gentleman. 
 
 But it is now time I shou'd give you some account of 
 Peterborough, which, in point of situation, is superior to 
 any place I have yet seen in the Upper Province. It 
 occupies a central point between the townships of Mo- 
 
(0 
 
 mi 
 lllllii 
 
 Mm 
 
 im 
 
 iff' 
 
 
 I'. ' ■ E, -'I'L' I 
 
 BACKWOODS or CANADA. 
 
 ll 
 
 castle district. ^^ ^^ ^"^ capital of the N.m * 
 
 fmall lak;,Xrtlfo riv e/.^f ^^ '''?'"' J"^' a'-vo ,1,, 
 « CIS. The orifr:maKlZl '^"'^ ''^'«»'' 'ow uooi 1 
 ."■'l out ir. half-aCo Tot^ X"'^,™' f"""' "^ ""^ '"-n 
 <as filJ.ns: up, are noa-ir^fu '"■"'"' ""hich are no, 
 
 and o.,o„d towards" he {latr? !.""'''"'"' ""h 'he rivo 
 plains form a Imo. *•? 1 ' """ "'e north-<wt 'P ' 
 
 "-" hi„;nd rfeXr^^'tr^' ?-'"dive'S 
 onamelle,! with a varietv-of ,ho " ^"'"^y ^'<'^" ^vvard 
 and ,,Ian.ed, as if by Nat^re'c "'"f '^'•l"'^'**' Aoh*. 
 'eathery pines, oak( ba ^ 2" '"""^' "''"' g'-0"I« of 
 1 he views from these , .lair'/ 't,: ""^ «"vcr b rel" 
 way you turn your e^ei the! ■,reV'''''f "!!''"' ' "hichev 
 ?i Ml and dale, wood \nTi T ?™",'":'' '>y a divcrsitv 
 
 >"? over a eo„sider:b?e';™et o l^.o;:l' ""> '<"vn sjS 
 . i he plains descenH nil [ " °"""- 
 
 nvcr, whieh rushes thf con f,l'' If"^''^ *°»'«'-* 'i.o 
 tween ,ts banks. Fancy a C^'"'^'™'^'^ impetuosity be 
 ra"P? fho east and we'^ ' H?' ""T."^ ""'%, and^sem 
 <f>';fmct v;;ia^es. ■' ^'"''""^ 0* the town into .14 
 
 tho'Mo:;;;^J-\„r^^^^^^^^ loftier elevation t„a. 
 
 pt;z^:!^^y^^j^ trn;t:^t 
 
 borough East, and is ..Ltn" '^ >■'"' '' ««"^d Pete 
 viduals of lar™ eai. tl f. "1' °' '"o or three in,Vi 
 purehasod. ^ '"''""'' '™"' »hom the town lots are 
 I'eterl.orough thus divider) ^„ 
 
 ground jnore than suffic enffbr IhT/n' ^T' ''««'" "^ 
 <^'t.v. 1 he number of inhnl,;* . 'orniation of a lar-e 
 ^even hundred and upwa rd^'^J iT l""^ ■'•'^koned "at 
 grease as rapidly in t ,e nev't ?„, " ^ntinues to in- 
 '"te'y, .t will so6n be a ver^popXjr'^ 'I '* '"^ '''"'<= 
 ll'cre IS great water-power K '""'"• 
 . «. . ^ ' ''°"' «s "-egards the river 
 
 ^ince this accoimf- /^p t> 
 
 ( 
 
 r 
 
CANADIAN BOTANY. 
 
 71 
 
 11 J the fine broad creek which winds its way through 
 
 [le town, and falls into the small lake below. There 
 
 re several saw and grist mills, a distillery, fulling-mill, 
 
 kvo principal inns, besides smaller ones, a number of 
 
 tool stores, a government school-house, which also 
 
 ((Tvcs for a church, till one more suitable should be built. 
 
 Vhe plains are sold off in park lots, and some pretty 
 
 pttle dwellings are being built, but I much fear the 
 
 latural beauties of this lovely spot will be soon spoiled. 
 
 I am never weary with strolling about, climbing the 
 lills in every direction, to catch some new prospect, or 
 rather some new flowers, which, though getting late in 
 the summer, are still abundant. 
 
 Among the i)lants with whose names I am acquainted 
 
 ire a variety of shrubby asters, of every tint of blue, 
 
 |)iirp!e, and pearly white ; a lilac monardn^ most delight- 
 
 I'lilly aromatic, even to the dry stalks and seed-vessels ; 
 
 the white gnaphalium^ or everlasting flower ; roses of 
 
 several kinds, a few late buds of which I found in a 
 
 ralK'y near the church. I also noticed among the 
 
 ?hnibs a very pretty little plant, resembling our box ; it 
 
 trails along the ground, sending up branches and shoots ; 
 
 the leaves turn of a deep copper red ;* yet, in spite of 
 
 [tills contradiction, it is an evergreen. I also noticed 
 
 some beautiful lichens, with coral caps surmounting the 
 
 Igrey hollow footstalks, whicji grow in irregular tufts 
 
 [among the dry mosses, or more frequently I found them 
 
 joovering the roots of the trees or half-decayed timbers. 
 
 (Among a variety of fungi I gathered a hollow cup of 
 
 the most splendid scarlet within, and a pale fawn colour 
 
 without ; another very beautiful fungi consisted of small 
 
 branches like clusters of white coral, but of so delicate a 
 
 (texture that the slightest touch caused them to break. 
 
 The ground in many places was covered with a thick 
 
 Icarpet of strawberries of many varieties, which aflbrd a 
 
 'constant dessert during the season to those who choose 
 
 to pick them, a privilege of which I am sure I should 
 
 gladly avail myself were I near them in the summer, 
 
 * Probably a Gaultheria. — Ed. 
 
m 
 
 
 B m: 
 
 ■' '!i|'';ir 
 
 1 ;|l.' I'' 
 
 ill'ir: 
 ■■' !|l 
 
 l\ 
 
 Oil 
 
 |i 
 
 fi!;i 
 
 " I 11' 
 
 
 .!!!;►* 
 
 
 "^i: 'ill 
 
 ''Jl::;'! 
 
 
 r* 
 
 
 •h'-i 
 
 m 
 
 
 ■tl» 
 
 m 
 
 
 
 % 
 
 ii 
 
 ,J:,, 
 
 ill ;^!!y'l 
 
 ii . ■ i' : r. 
 
 M Hi 
 
 >;; I !H 
 
 ifji 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 HiMii 
 
 
 72 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 Beside the plants I have myself observed in blossom, I 
 am told the spring and summer produce many others ;- 
 the orange lily ; the phlox, or purple lichnidea ; the nio. 
 cassin flower, or ladies' slipper ; lilies of the valley in 
 abundance ; and, towards the banks of the creek and the 
 Otanabee, the splendid cardinal flower (lobelia cardinalis) 
 waves its scarlet spikes of blossoms. 
 
 I am half inclined to be angry when I admire the 
 beauty of the Canadian flowers, to be constantly reminded 
 that they are scentless, and therefore scarcely worthy of 
 attention ; as if the eye could not be charmed by beauty 
 of form and harniony of colours, independent of the 
 sense of smelling being gratifled. 
 
 To redeem this country from the censure cast on it by 
 a very clever gentleman I once met in London, who said, 
 ** the flowers were without perfume, and the birds with- 
 out song," I have already discovered several highly arc 
 matic plants and flowers. The milk-weed must not be 
 omitted among these ; a beautiful shrubby plant with 
 purple flowers, which are alike remarkable for beauty of ; 
 colour and richness of scent. 
 
 I shall very soon begin to collect a hortus siccus for 
 Eliza, with a description of the plants, growth, and qua-j^ 
 lities. Any striking particulars respecting them I shall 
 make notes of; and tell her she may depend on my 
 sending my specimens, with seeds of such as I can col- 
 lect, at some fltting opportunity. 
 
 I consider this country opens a wide and fruitful fielJ 
 to the inquiries of the botanist. I now deeply regret I 
 did not benefit by the frequent offers Eliza made me of 
 prosecuting a study which I once thought dry, but now 
 regard as highly interesting, and the fertile source of 
 mental enjoyment, especially to those who, living in the 
 bush, must necessarily be shut out from the pleasures of a 
 large circle of friends, and the varieties that a town or 
 village offer. 
 
 On Sunday I went to church ; the first opportunity I 
 had had of attending public worship since I was in the 
 Highlands of Scotland ; and surely I had reason to bow 
 my knees in thankfulness to that merciful God who had 
 
SQUATTER8 GROUND. 
 
 73 
 
 roujrht us through the perils of the great deep and the 
 
 orrors of the pestilence. 
 
 Never did our beautiful Liturgy seem so touching and 
 impressive as it did that day, — offered up in our lowly 
 log-built church in the wilderness. 
 
 This simple edifice is situated at the foot of a gentle 
 slope on the plains, surrounded by groups of oak and 
 feathery pines, which, though inferior in point of size to 
 the huice jnnes and oaks of the forest, are far more agree- 
 able to the eye, branching out in a variety of fantastic 
 forms. The turf here is of an emerald greenness : in 
 short, it is a sweet spot, retired from the noise and bustle 
 ^)[' the town, a fitting place in which to worship God in 
 spirit and in truth. 
 
 There are many beautiful walks towards the Smith- 
 town hills, and along the banks that overlook the river. 
 The summit of this ridge is sterile, and is thickly set 
 with loose bl -cks of red and grey granite, interspersed 
 with large masses of limestone scattered in every direc- 
 tion ; they are mostly smooth and rounded, as it by the 
 action of water. As they are detached, and merely oc- 
 cupy the surface of the ground, it seemed strange to me 
 how ey came at that elevation. A geologist would 
 doubtless be able to solve the mystery in a few minutes. 
 The oaks that grow on this high bank are rather larger 
 and more flourishing than those in the valleys and more 
 fertile portions of the soil. 
 
 Behind the town, in the direction of the Cavan and 
 Emily roads, is a wide space which I call the " squatters* 
 ground," it being entirely covered with shanties, in 
 which the poor emigrants, commuted pensioners, and the 
 like, have located themselves and families. Some 
 remain here under the ostensible reason of providing a 
 shelter for their wives and children till they have pre- 
 pared a home for their reception on their respective 
 grants ; but not unfrequently it happens that they are 
 too indolent, or really unable to work on their lots, often 
 situated many miles in the backwoods, and in distant 
 and unsettled townships, presenting great obstacles to 
 the poor emigrant, which it requires more energy and 
 
!• "1: 
 
 1:71' 
 
 
 fi 3' 
 
 i<f ' III 
 
 III,:.!';. 
 
 '■it' 
 
 " I' 
 
 
 IB!-: 
 
 
 ■»tts"i 
 I'll' (a"'' 
 
 I'"' 
 
 
 ,u...,;'l 
 
 
 
 !'f:l 
 
 
 r 
 
 l^t:^ 
 
 , . . ill'''' , 
 
 '{■.' 
 
 I 
 
 1 * 'iili r ? 
 
 , .ii': 'Hi 
 
 !i>i'. , 
 I 111'-: 
 
 ■'!»;.;: 
 ■I'''- 
 
 Mm. 
 
 '■ ■ ri 
 
 
 <4 DAfKWOOIiS OP CANADA. 
 
 coiirairo to (MifouutLT tiian is jiossrssod \)y a va^^t nunilir- 
 of tlii'in. OtliiTs, of idle and ])roHijrat(^ lial)its, spcti! 
 the inoiiey tlicy ivceivcd, aiui sell the land, tor \vlii(ii 
 they gave away their pensions, after which they reiiuun 
 miserable S(juaiieis on the siuinty-irround. 
 
 The shanty is a sort oi' j)riinitive hut in Canadian ar- 
 chitecture, and is nothinj^* more than a shed huilt oI'Iol's, 
 the chinks between the round edges of the timbers 
 being tilled with nnid, moss, and bits of wood ; the rool 
 is frequently composed of lo^s split and hollowed witn 
 the axe, and placed sid<? !)y side, so t!iat the cdires re?! 
 on each other ; the concave and convex surfaces bcin^' 
 alternately uppermost, every other log forms a channel 
 to carry oii' the rain and melting snow. The eaves of 
 ihis building resemble the scolloped edges of a clamp- 
 shell ; but rude as this covering is, it ett'ectually answers 
 the purpose of keeping the interior dry ; far more iu 
 than the roofs I'ormed of bark or boards, throuuh which 
 the rain will find enti'ance. Sometimes the shmrvhasa 
 window, sonielimes only an open doorway, which admits 
 th3 light and lets out the smoke.* A rude chimney, 
 which is often nothinLr better than an opcniuir cut in oik; 
 of the top lojrs above the hearth, a few boards fastened 
 in a square form, serves as the vent lor the sniol^e ; iho 
 only precaution against the fire catching the log wall- 
 behind the hearth boing a few large stones phiced in a 
 half circular form, or more commonly a bank of dry 
 earth raised against tiie wall. 
 
 * I was greatly amused by the remark made by a littl ' 
 Irish hoy, that wc liired to be our hewer of wood and drawvr 
 of water, who had been an inhabitant of one of these shantic?. 
 '• xMa'ara," said he, "when the weather was stinging cold, avj 
 did not know how to keep ourselves warm; for while ^VJ 
 roasted our eyes out before the fire, our backs were jii^. 
 freezing ; so first we turned one side and then the other, jib' i 
 as you would roast a (/use on a spit. Mother spent half the | 
 money fatiier earned at his straw-work (he was a straw | 
 chair-maker,) in whisky to keep us warm ; but I do think a j 
 larger mess of good hot praters (potatoes,) would have kept 
 us warmer than the whislcv did.'^ 
 
 fi^ 
 
a \a^t nunilif 
 lial)ifs, spoii' 
 ti(J, for \vlii(f; 
 1 they reiiiiiin 
 
 Canadian ar- 
 
 i)uilt ot'loi:^, 
 
 th(» tinil)( 
 
 )0(l ; tlie rooi 
 
 lol lowed witii 
 
 le rd tjfos r('>! 
 
 ir faces beinL' 
 
 lis a ehannol 
 
 The caves of 
 
 of a chimp- 
 
 lally answers 
 
 i'ar more su 
 
 roimh which 
 
 shii'tyhasa 
 
 vhich admits 
 
 \o chin 
 
 ir cut 1 
 
 IS 
 
 rds i; 
 
 5nii);;e 
 
 |e ]o<x 
 phieed 
 ink of 
 
 bv a 
 
 land dr 
 
 Ise slianti 
 |ng cold 
 
 Wiiil 
 
 were 
 other, 
 It Jialf 
 Its a sti 
 Ido thi 
 have 
 
 u 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 
M^ 
 
 
 
 i ; P':i 'W- 
 
 K V Ki 
 
 W'S 
 
 
 
 'J ;l'| 'iili 
 ' 'if.')) 11 , 
 
 flit ii^eii: i 
 
 
 ^il 
 
 til J 'Ir ■ 'f'l g'. »* li 
 
 ■n f'lr .■■)'' 
 
 76 
 
 BACKWOODS or CANADA. 
 
 sl.il[.Tc!:;"?,S1„';f '"T -"'"'■or.Ioss than .„„,e of „„ 
 
 S-'v«n ^ou the dark side T.'l. '^"''- ""'Iliav, 
 
 f.a.v all tl.c shanties on ,h " ''"■•"''<' '' ^ »"' 'mn, ■ I 
 "ke these: onthe ertrarv f:'""""?' '■"•'"'"■' w..c!-„; 
 wore inhabited by tX S ^ '^^ "l" '"'■?■"•'• Pro|.o,t"„ 
 ^mall windows, LH IvVh"'' '""' "'"'• ""• e'"^" ^! 
 through the ro<^f • some ul.^""""^ "'-'"''"•'y '""It u 
 I'o'sossed similar comforts «hT '""t'/ ""^'•-'' «» 
 . You will, perhaps, think ,.. """' '"?-l"'uses. 
 
 hat „,any rLpect'able "« ler 'Tjth "t^" ' ''^""^ •™" 
 
 'amdies, persons delicatelv r,..«;. '^""' "'^s un,l 
 
 overy eomfort beforeThey^ZS ""^u "«"^'o,„ed t 
 
 tented to inhabit a hut o'f M^l^ndJ' .'"'^«,''<'™ con- 
 
 second year of their settlemei^t in 7h ^"""^ "'« h>st or 
 
 I have istencd with «• T " ""' "oo*- 
 hi^'ipry of the hard Wns'^enT "[ P"' '"^'^^^^^ to th. 
 settlers in the nei Jhb„ fl„ "■''"''''/^ ''y some „f the C 
 
 teined but tw;"ft,!^a„:e'r ^r''"'^'' -" 
 
 neither roads cut nor boate St L ^'"'" .there wcro 
 the distant and settled mrt. {?''^^'""">"okiiting with 
 
 hotter supply oTLltha^'wtt^M^^'"^^ had no 
 by a small hand-mill, and for *epl?V ■'"' '^""^ S™"-'! 
 every necessary, not even pv^ .• t"'"^ "^^stitute of 
 
 friend <' are confined princinalU?'"!^'^ ."^ '"««"'>■« 
 the so,l in the unsettled"^ mrTof^.u'" ">« fi"-'! breakeS of 
 case If you diligently Cstion il ^°T7' "' ""^ our 
 the lower class that are iSh ?„ T^ °' "«' '"milies of 
 who had little or no rJeat * , ""^ .""« '""ns, and 
 first twelve months, ~ ev eolT^i *""■ '•«""& the 
 'and, vou will hear many IVes'o'ft;:,:^"'' '''' "' 
 
 f 
 
 -^ 
 
i I 
 
 )mo of thoso 
 <'oniniori re- 
 Hut. I have 
 !»n ^'appy to 
 |<1 vvcrtrnor 
 f proportion 
 ^r evon two 
 rly Iniilt u[, 
 loorcMJ, and 
 houses. 
 [ assure you 
 wives an( 
 I'ustorned to 
 l>ocn con- 
 tlie first or 
 
 ) 
 
 rest to tho 
 )i' the first 
 'ough con- 
 ihere were 
 ating with 
 ; conso- 
 of provi- 
 that has 
 
 had no 
 y ground 
 stitute of 
 could not 
 net with 
 
 emigra- 
 
 itelligent 
 iakers of 
 
 was our 
 milies of 
 
 ns, and 
 ring the 
 
 ofi* the 
 
 to 
 
 r, 
 
 y. 
 
 w ^ 
 
h '* ill ■/ 
 
 111' ",j 
 
 'I! ,:i 
 
 T II 
 
 It'' r 
 
 flit' 
 
 '-1 
 
 I, 
 
 ft.'' 
 " "J ■ 
 
 pi 
 
 l';!ii 
 
 111,!' ■ 
 
 Ill :!;,!K 
 
 'iC jilit 
 
 i ,,('»• ' lit" 
 
 ■ tji'j 
 
 
 )M' ' ''■'■ 
 
 
 Ml! 
 
 •!|;,, 
 
 
 ',11 li'iil ' ' 
 
 '1% 
 
 :i'i'! 
 
 1^ 
 
 Ww 
 
 •j'i'i. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 / f 
 
 I 
 
 ■'i 
 
 
 '!(i,;lj 
 111 i! 
 
 ., ,{d 
 
 78 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 Writers on emigration do not take the trouble of 
 searching out these things, nor does it answer their pur- 
 pose to state disagreeable facts. Few have written ex- 
 clusively on the " Bush." Travellers generally make a 
 hasty journey through the long settled and prosperous 
 portions of the country ; they see a tract of fertile, 
 M'ell-cultivated land, the result of many years of labour ; 
 they see comfortable dwellings abounding with all the 
 substantial necessaries of life ; the farmer's wife makes 
 her own soap, candles, and sugar ; the family are 
 clothed in cloth of their own spinning, and hose of their 
 own knitting. The bread, beer, butter, cheese, meat, 
 poultry, &c., are all the produce of the farm. He con- 
 cludes, therefore, that Canada is a land of Canaan, and 
 writes a book setting forth these advantages, with the 
 addition of obtaining land for a mere song ; and advises 
 ail perTons who would be independent and secure from 
 want to emigrate. 
 
 He forgets that these advantages are the result of 
 long years of unremittixig and patient labour ; that these 
 things are the crowriy not the Jirst-^rvits of the settler's 
 toil ; and that during the interval many and great 
 privations must be submitted to by almost every class of 
 emigrants. 
 
 Many persons, on first coming out, especially if they 
 go back into any of the unsettled townships, are 
 dispirited by the unpromising appearance of things 
 about them. They find none of the advantages and 
 comforts of which they had heard and read, and they 
 are unprepared for the present difficulties ; some give 
 way to despondency, and others quit the place in 
 disgust. 
 
 A little reflection would have shown them that every 
 rood of land must be cleared of the thick forest of 
 timber that encumbers it before an ear of wheat can be 
 grown ; that, after the trees have been chopped, cut 
 into lengths, drawn together, or logged^ as we call it, and 
 burned, the field must be fenced, the seed sown, har- 
 vested, and thrashed before any returns can be obtained ; 
 that this requires time and much labour, and, if hired 
 
SUPPLIES IN THE FOREST. 
 
 79 
 
 labour, considerable outlay of ready money ; and in the 
 meantime a family must eat. If at a distance from a 
 store, every article must be brought through bad roads 
 cither by hand or with a team, the hire of which is gene- 
 rally costly in proportion to the distance and difficulty 
 to be encountered in the conveyance. Now, these things 
 ure better known beforehand, and then people are aware 
 what they have to encounter. 
 
 Even a labouring man, though he have land of his 
 own, is often, I may say generally, obliged to hire out to 
 work for the first year or two, to earn sufficient for the 
 maintenance of his family ; and even many of them 
 suffer much privation before they reap the benefit of 
 their independence. Were it not for the hope and the 
 certain prospect of bettering their condition ultimately, 
 they would sink under what they have to endure ; but 
 this thought buoys them up. They do not fear an old 
 age of want and pauperism ; the present evils must yield 
 to industry and perseverance ; they think also for their 
 children ; and the trials of the present time are lost in 
 pleasing anticipations for the future. 
 
 *' Surely," said I, " cows and pigs and poultry might 
 be kept ; and you know, where there is plenty of milk, 
 butter, cheese, and eggs, with pork and fowls, persons 
 cannot be very badly off for food." 
 
 *' Very true," replied my friend ; " but I must tell you 
 it is easier to talk of these things at first than to keep 
 them, unless on cleared or partially cleared farms ; but 
 we are speaking of a first settlement in the backwoods. 
 Cows, pigs, and fowls must eat, and if you have nothing 
 to give them unless you purchase it, and perhaps have to 
 bring it from some distance, you had better not be 
 troubled with them, as the trouble is certain and the 
 profit doubtful. A cow, it is true, will get her living 
 during the open months of the year in the bu^h, but 
 sometimes siie will ramble away for days together, and 
 then you lose the use of her, and possibly much time in 
 seeking her ; then in the winter she requires some ad- 
 ditional food to the browse * that she gets during the 
 
 * The cattle are supported ic a great measure during the 
 
 K 2 
 
;ij;f 
 
 I ■ 1 ^'i 41 rrt! ',1' 
 
 »•. Oil , ,|ii ,1! 'i!l;^ 
 
 J. 
 
 % ', 
 
 m 
 \ii'-i 
 
 
 III 1'! ' 
 
 ■N.;;i;.iiif:i 
 
 ^ 
 
 ::i « 1 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 
 'mm 
 
 
 .•ll!!' 
 
 m 
 
 
 * 'lilili 
 
 'lilMl 
 
 'i ,..;iif Ml!!! 
 
 ■m! ■ ■ 
 
 ■^ , ■::.•'! it 
 '■'III 
 
 '^l!i 
 
 lii 
 
 
 h 
 i, 
 
 I' 
 
 'f. .Jr:; I 
 
 till 
 
 -Vi^ ■■ 15';''!!! 
 
 80 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 chopping season, or ten to one but she dies before 
 spring- ; and as cows generally lose their milk during 
 the cold weather, if not very well kept, it is best to part 
 with them in the fall and buy again in the spring, unless 
 you have plenty of food for them, which is not often 
 the case the first winter. As to pigs, they are great 
 plagues on a newly cleared farm if you cannot fat them 
 off-hand ; and that you cannot do without you buy food 
 for them, which does not answer to do at first. If they 
 run loose they are a terrible annoyance both to your own 
 crops and your neighbours, if you happen to be within 
 half a mile of one ; for though you may fence out cattle 
 you cannot pigs : even poultry require something more 
 than they pick up about the dwelling to be of any ser- 
 vice to you, and are often taken off by hawks, eagles, 
 foxes, and pole-cats, till you have proper securities for 
 them." 
 
 *' Then, how are we to spin our own wool and make 
 our own soap and candles ? "* said I. " When you are 
 able to kill your own sheep, and hogs, and oxen, unless 
 you buy wool and tallow" — then, seeing me begin to 
 look somewhat disappointed, he said, " Be not cast 
 down, you will have all these things in time, and more 
 than these, never fear, if you have patience, and use the 
 means of obtaining them. In the meanwhile prepare 
 your mind for many privations to which at present you 
 are a stranger ; and if you would desire to see your hus- 
 band happy and prosjierous, be content to use economy, 
 and, above all, be cheerful. In a few years the farm will 
 supply you with all the necessaries of life, and by and by 
 you may even enjoy many of the luxuries. Then it is 
 that the settler begins to taste the real and solid advan- 
 tages of his emigration ; then he feels the blessings of a 
 country where there are no taxes, tithes, nor poor-rates ; 
 then he truly feels the benefit of independence. It is 
 
 fall and winter by eating the tender shoots of the maple, 
 beech, and bass, which they seek in the newly chopped fal- 
 low ; but they should likewise be allowed straw or other 
 food, or they will die in the very hard weather. 
 * See notes A and 13 at the end of the volume. 
 
 
 til 
 
EEFLECTIOJS'S. 
 
 81 
 
 ics before 
 ilk during 
 est to part 
 ng-, unless 
 not often 
 are great 
 fiat them 
 I buy food 
 If they 
 your own 
 je within 
 out cattle 
 ing more 
 ' any ser- 
 5, eagles, 
 u'ities for 
 
 md make 
 
 I you are 
 
 In, unless 
 
 begin to 
 
 not cast 
 
 nd more 
 
 use the 
 
 prepare 
 
 ent you 
 
 our hus- 
 
 onomy, 
 
 irni will 
 
 and bv 
 
 en it is 
 
 ad van - 
 
 ?s of a 
 
 •-rates ; 
 
 It is 
 
 inaple, 
 »ed M- 
 otlier 
 
 looking" forward to this happy fulfihnent of liis desires 
 tiiat makes the rough paths smooth, and lightens the 
 bu.cien of present ills, lie looks round upon a numerous 
 family without those anxious fears that beset a lather in 
 moderate circumstances at home ; for he knows that he 
 does not leave them destitute of an honest means of 
 supix>rt.** 
 
 in spite of all the trials he had encountered, I found 
 this gentleman was so much attached to a settler's life, 
 tliat he declared he would not go back to his own country 
 to resiile for a permanence on any account ; nor is he 
 the only one that I have heard express the same opinion, 
 and it likewise seems a univer^-al one among the lower 
 class of emigrants. They are encouraged by the ex- 
 ample of others whom they see enjoying comforts that 
 they could never have obtained had they laboured ever 
 so liard at home : and they wisely reflect they nmst have 
 had hardships to endure had they remained in their 
 native land (many indeed had been driven out by want), 
 without the most remote chance or" bettering themselves 
 or becoming the jjossessors of land free from all restric- 
 tions. '' What to us are the sufferings of one, two, 
 three, or even four years, compared with u whole life of 
 labour and poverty," was the remark of a po"] labourer, 
 who was recounting to us the other day some (^i ihe hard- 
 ships he had met with in this country, lie said he 
 " knew they were only for a short time, u\a that I y in- 
 dustry he should soon get over them." 
 
 I have already seen two of our poor neighbours that 
 left the parish a twelvemonth ago : they are settled in 
 Canada Company lots, and are getting on well. They 
 have some few acres cleared and cropped, but are obliged 
 to ^^ hire out,'' to enable their families to live, wor^aig 
 on their own land when they can. The men ire in good 
 spirits, and say, '' they shall in a few years have many 
 comforts about them that they never could have got -li 
 home, had they worked late and early : but they com- 
 plain that their wives are always pining for hon.c, and 
 lamenting that ever they crossed the seas." This seems 
 to be the general complaint with all classes : the w omen 
 
 m 
 
 ml 
 
 1 
 
 m 
 
 mJB 
 
 ^^h' 
 
 mm 
 
82 
 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CAKADA. 
 
 ": :| 
 
 are discontented ar^fi .. u 
 
 whole heart into Ti^X ^^IT '"''' "'"> th.ir 
 domestic comforts they had h« " ''7 ""'*' '^e little 
 regret the Wends anH . i ,• °^^" "^^'^ '« eniov th,.v 
 country, and they c^nlt '?"' ""^^ '«'' m the 2 
 backwoods. '^ '^""°' ""'"■•e the loneliness of tt 
 
 finJ^^nroTotZTon''"""!;^'' -= ' ''-•I sha-l 
 sources of injoy^e^C^ Iw ^1'""?^""'^ ^ '' 
 J from being dull. Bes"de, h ?^ ">« »'" k'^P 
 
 cheerful and contented for th:^!'^? "°'.' ■"^''' '° '^^ 
 ner ? The change is not a^rZ!^ t "^ ^elovetl part- 
 ^for his sake I %yl TolfSyZ T ''"»" ''''" -"'i 
 
 -iment of my f^^^ ^o^^rcll^;;^^-'^'- '^a^ 
 
 £n i^i:z rren^cTook '" vr ■ ^ r '-- «"■■« 
 
 anrf I " ='"'<=Ju'led. There arp,h ''"''*^''"'<= "'' the 
 and a shanty up ; but thT u """'"^ '""'"cs chonned 
 
 dwelling, befngL;reIyano„;n''^'^.''l "<" « habi't^bt: 
 the choppers as a fempomrvT.lf "* """ "'» P"t "P by 
 budd a house. Late 'enZh w^' '" ^'^ ''"'" ''»ve to 
 in a full crop, as the land Um„ T T' '"» '«'« to eet 
 fnd U is no V too late to lot anTh^""'!'P«^' "ot cleared 
 the seed.wheat in • but ■ f -n u ^"™ ""-^ 'allow, and ^et 
 We paid five dolL an/a hi f """^^ ^"^ ^P"ng "rops 
 was rather high for w J land L'tT' *'"' »'"' '"^ •• t£ 
 
 .-In all probability it »!)) k 
 leisure aa^i„ to X ud nv """^ *™« before I find 
 guests with till Z h^ •""•'• . ^« *hall remSn 
 
 ''-n, Which 1 4SoZiizcrci^^^^^^ 
 
JOURNEY FROM PBTERBOROUGH. 
 
 83 
 
 t 
 
 Letter VII. 
 
 Journey from Peterborough. — Canadian Woods. — Waggon 
 and Team.— Arrival at a Log-house on the Banks of a 
 Lake. — Settlement and first Occupatioas. 
 
 October 25, 1832. 
 
 I SHALL begin my letter with a description of our 
 journey through the bush, and so go on, giving an account 
 of our proceedings both within-doors and without. I 
 know my little domestic details will not prove wholly 
 uninteresting to you : for well I am assured that a 
 mother's eye is never weary with reading lines traced by 
 the hand of an absent and beloved child. 
 
 After some difficulty we succeeded in hiring a waggon 
 and span (i. e. pair abreast) of stout iiorses to convey us 
 and our luggage through the woods to the banks of one 
 
 of the lakes where S ■ — had appuinied to ferry us 
 
 across. Therp was no palpable roau, only a blaze on the 
 other side, encumbered by fallen trees, and interrupted 
 by a great cedar swamp, into which one might sink up 
 to one's knees, unless we took the precaution to step 
 along the trunks of the mossy decaying timbers, or make 
 our footing sure on some friendly block of granite or 
 limestone. What is termed in bush-language a blaze is 
 nothing more than notches or slices cut off the bark of 
 trees, to mark out the line of road. The boundaries of 
 the different lots are often marked by a blazed tree, also 
 the concession-lines.* These bla^^s ^\e pf as much use 
 as finger-posts of a dark night. 
 
 * These concession-lines are certain divisions of the town- 
 ships ; these are again divided into so many lots of 200 acres. 
 The concession-liues used to bu umv|ied by a wide avenue 
 
 ¥ ', 
 
 1 
 
 
 • 1 
 
 [ i 
 
 ■ ' 5 
 
 ■ t ' 
 
 ■ > > 
 
 ■ l}\ . 
 
 ' '"8 
 
 0- 
 
 -yM 
 
 
 V y 
 
 
 ! 'J 
 
 i it .' 
 
 j,,j ^M 
 
 I ' ' 
 
 i ': M 
 
 ^' 
 
 mt 
 
 1 « 
 
 , ■ mi 
 
 ^'!iV 
 
 
 ■•:S4 ■ 
 
 

 
 
 1*1 >l 
 
 
 If;' :''»., 
 h'!. ill* 
 
 tip 
 
 r^ 
 
 . .1. ■!■ 
 
 
 1^ ' 1 ^ ii 
 
 .'.| .ii :! i; 
 
 ;!•(, 
 
 r.v:;'ti; 
 
 U 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 The road wc were compelled to take lay ever the 
 Peterborough plains, in the direction of the river, the 
 scenery of which })leased me much, though it j)resents 
 little appearance of fertility, with the exception of two 
 or three extensive clearings. 
 
 About tliree miles above Peterborough the road winds 
 along the brow of a steep ridge, the bottom of which has 
 every appearance of having been formerly the bed of a 
 lateral branch of the present river, or perhaps some small 
 lake, which has been diverted from its channel, and 
 mei'ued in the Otanabee. 
 
 On either side this ridge tliere is a steep descent : on 
 the right, the Otanabee breaks upon you, rushing with 
 i..ieat velocity over its rocky bed, ibrming rajjids in 
 iruniature, resembling those of the St. Lawi-ence : its 
 dark frowning woods of sombre pine give a grandeur to 
 tivj scenery that is very impressive. On the left lies 
 below you a sweet secluded dell of evergreens, cedar, 
 hemlock, and ])ine, enlivened by a few deciduous trees. 
 Through this dell there is a road track leading to a fine 
 cleared farm, the green pastures of which were rendered 
 more pleasing by the absence of the odious stumps tlnit 
 disfigure the clearings in this part of the country. A 
 pretty bright stream flows through the low meadow that 
 lies at the loot of the hill, which you descend suddenly 
 close by a smal , st-mill that is worked by the waters, 
 just w here they njcet the rapids of the river. 
 
 I called this place " Glen Morrison," partly from the 
 remembrance of the lovely Ghn Morrison of the High- 
 lands, and i>artly bec.uisc It was the name of the settler 
 that owned the spot. 
 
 Our progress was but slow on account of the rough- 
 ness of the road, which is beset with innumerable ob- 
 stacles in the shape of loose blocks of granite and lime- 
 
 ^■ 
 
 .'11^' 'III'" 
 
 being chopped, so as to form a road of communication be- 
 tween them ; but this plan was found too trouhU^^^ome ; and 
 in a few years the young growth of timber so choked the 
 opening, that it was of little use. The lately surveyed town* 
 ships, 1 believe, are only divided by blazed lines. 
 
on be- 
 
 i] and 
 
 lhI t]ie 
 
 town- 
 
 I , 
 
 ,':':*. ''I'M I!,,; 
 
 ■ 1;.,.';;. i5i.M ■ ' M,.":, 
 
 
 !t 
 
 
 Jl 
 
 I'll!,., 
 
 'U 
 
 P 
 
 ii 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 IF 
 
 i; •-• 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 3 
 
 'Wl^ 
 
 hi 
 
 
 o 
 
 ^uT-'^^ 
 
 
 iio 
 
 .-^ 
 
 i , '^i 1 
 
 C3 
 O 
 
 i 
 
 
 '^i,t 
 
 r- 
 
 
 ■'■■*, 
 
 » 
 
 "1- 
 

 ^ < 
 
 86 
 
 BACKWOODS or CANADA. 
 
 1.' 1 r ' ■ 
 
 «' 
 
 
 f 
 
 I 
 
 *-di 
 
 I. 
 
 
 
 
 ■^^lii 
 
 
 nil'!!': 
 
 •,' :«) 
 
 •■ft 
 
 ' "■■■■ 1 ijiitji 
 , ' ,■■"!! 
 
 t ' 
 
 s 
 
 "^'!'ii 
 
 ' .Mm 
 
 •'■liil; 
 
 i^ 
 
 Btonc, with which the lands on the banks of the river and 
 lakes abound ; to say nothing of fallen trees, big roots, 
 mud-holes, and corduroy bridges, over which you go jolt, 
 jolt, jolt, till every bone in your body feels as if it were 
 going to be dislocated. An experienced bush- traveller 
 avoids many hard thumps by rising up or clinging to the 
 sides of his rough vehicle. 
 
 As the day was particularly fine, I often quitted the 
 waggon and walked on with my husband for a mile or 
 so. 
 
 We soon lost sight entirely of the river, and struck 
 into the deep solitude of the forest, where not a sound 
 disturbed the almost awful stillness that reigned around 
 Scarcely a leaf or bough was in motion, except at 
 
 us. 
 
 intervals we caught the sound of the breeze stirring the 
 lofty heads of the pine-trees, and wakening a hoarse and 
 mournful cadence. This, with the tapping of the red- 
 headed and grey woodpeckers on the trunks of the de- 
 caying trees, or the shrill whistling cry of the little 
 striped squirrel, called by the natives ** chitmunk," was 
 every sound that broke the stillness of the wild. Nor 
 was 1 less surprised at the absence of animal life. With 
 the exception of the aforesaid chitmunk, no living thing 
 crossed our path during our long day's journey in the 
 woods. 
 
 In these vast solitudes one would naturally be led to 
 imagine that the absence of man would have allowed 
 Nature's wild denizens to have abounded free and un- 
 molested ; but the contrary seems to be the case. Al- 
 most all wild animals are more abundant in the cleared 
 districts than in the bush. Man's industry supplies their 
 wants at an easier rate than seeking a scanty subsistence 
 in the forest. 
 
 You hear continually of depredations committed by 
 wolves, bears, racoons, lynxes, and foxes, in the long- 
 settled parts of the province. In the backwoods the 
 appearance of wild beasts is a matter of much rarer oc- 
 currence. 
 
 I was disappointed in the forest-trees, having pictured 
 to niyseii hoary giants almost primeval with the country 
 
TRAVELLING IN THE WOODS. 
 
 87 
 
 > river and 
 big roots, 
 ou pro jolt, 
 if it were 
 i-traveller 
 ing to the 
 
 iiitted the 
 a mile or 
 
 ind struck 
 t a sound 
 ed around 
 except at 
 rring the 
 aarse and 
 ' the red- 
 f the de- 
 the little 
 ink," was 
 Id. Nor 
 With 
 ng thing 
 y in the 
 
 )e led to 
 allowed 
 land un- 
 Al- 
 cl eared 
 ies their 
 iistence 
 
 Ited by 
 
 long- 
 
 the 
 
 rer oc- 
 
 Ictured 
 )untry 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 itself, as greatly exceeding in majesty of form the trees 
 of my native isles, as the vast lakes and mighty rivers of 
 Canada exceed the locks and streams of Britain. 
 
 There is a want of picturesque beauty in the woods. 
 The young growth of timber alone has any pretension to 
 elegance of form, unless 1 except the hemlocks, which 
 are extremely light and graceful, and of a lovely re- 
 freshing tint of green. Even when winter has stripped 
 the forest it is still beautiful and verdant. The young 
 beeches too are pretty enough, but you miss that fantastic 
 bowery shade that is so delightful in our parks and wood- 
 lands at home. 
 
 There is no appearance of venerable antiquity in the 
 Canadian woods. There are no ancient spreading oaks 
 that might be called the patriarchs of the forest. A pre- 
 mature decay seems to be their doom. They are up- 
 rooted by the storm, and sink in their first maturity, to 
 give place to a new generation that is ready to fill their 
 places. 
 
 The pines are certainly the finest trees. In point of 
 size there are none to surpass them. They tower above 
 all the others, forming a dark line that may be dis- 
 tinguished for many miles. The pines being so much 
 loftier than the other trees, are sooner uprooted, as they 
 receive the full and unbroken force of the wind in their 
 tops ; thus it is that the ground is continually strewn 
 with the decaying trunks of huge pines. They also 
 seem more liable to inward decay, and blasting from 
 lightning and fire. Dead pines are more frequently met 
 with than any other tree. 
 
 Much as I had seen and heard of the badness of the 
 roads in Canada, I was not prepared for such a one as 
 we travelled along this day : indeed, it hardly deserved 
 the name of a road, being little more than an opening 
 hewed out through the woods, the trees being felled 
 and drawn aside, so as to admit a wheeled carriage pass- 
 ing along. 
 
 The swamps, and little forest streams that occasionally 
 gush across the path, are rendered passable by logs 
 placed side by side. From the ridgy and striped ap- 
 
•I' , 
 
 88 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 
 'jliti. 
 
 3 
 
 ! s^.»/9f;; 
 
 
 
 
 
 pcarancc of these bridges they arc aptly enough tcrmod 
 corduroy. 
 
 Over those abominiihle corduroys the vehicle jolts, 
 jumping from log to log, with u shock that must be en- 
 dured with as good a grace as possible. If you could boar 
 these knocks, and j)itiloss thumpings and bumpings, 
 without wry faces, your patience and ])hiloso{)hy wonld 
 far exceed mine ; — sometimes I laughed because I would 
 not cry. 
 
 Imagine you see me perched up on a seat composed of 
 carpet-bcit^s, trunks, and sundry j)ackages, in a vehicle 
 little better than a great rough deal box set on wheels, 
 the sides being merely j)egged in so that more than once 
 I found myself in rather an awkward itredicament, owing 
 to the said sides jumping out. In the vvvy midst of a 
 deep mud-hole out went the front board, and with the 
 shock went the teamster (driver), who looked rather 
 confounded at finding himself lodged just in the middle 
 of a slough as bad as the "Slough of Des])ond." For 
 my part, as I could do no good, I kept my seat, and 
 piitient.ly awaited the restoration to order. This was 
 soon elieeted,and all went on well again till a jolt against 
 a huge pine-tree gave su^h a jar to the ill-set vehicle, 
 that one of the boards danced out that composed the 
 bottom, and a sack of flour and bag of salted pork, which 
 was on its way to a settler's, whose clearing we had to 
 pass in the way, were ejected. A good teamster is sel- 
 dom taken aback by such trifles as these. 
 
 He is, or should be, provided with an axe. No wag- 
 gon, team, or any other travelling equipage should be 
 unprovided with an instrument of this kind ; as no one 
 can answer for the obstacles that may impede his pro- 
 gress in the bush. The disasters we met fortunately 
 required but little skill in remedying. The sides need 
 only a stout peg, and the loosened planks that form the 
 l)ottom being quickly replaced, away you go again over 
 root, stump, and stone, mud-hole, and corduroy ; now 
 against the trunk of some standing tree, now mounting 
 over some fallen one, with an impulse that would annihi- 
 Jate any lighter equipage than a Canadian waggon, which 
 
SAGACITY OF CANADIAN HORSES. 
 
 89 
 
 ^iigh tormod 
 
 'olilclc jolts, 
 must be en. 
 'U could bear 
 I bnin])ln<:s, 
 ?oj)hy would 
 ausc I would 
 
 conii)oso(l of 
 In a v(dji('le 
 t on wheels, 
 ■e than once 
 incnt, owing 
 r midst of a 
 tid with the 
 jked rather 
 
 the midille 
 ond." For 
 17 seat, and 
 
 This was 
 jolt against 
 set vehicle, 
 nposed the 
 K)rk, which 
 we had to 
 ister is sel- 
 
 No wag- 
 should be 
 as no one 
 lo his pro- 
 tbrtunately 
 sides need 
 form the 
 again over 
 roy ; now 
 mounting 
 Id annihi- 
 :on, which 
 
 is admiiably fiftccl by its very roughness for such roads 
 as we have in the b-jish. 
 
 The sagacity of the horses of this country is truly ad« 
 niirabl«\ Their patience in surmounting the difhcidties 
 they 'lavc to encounter, their skill in avoiding the holes 
 and stones, and in making their footing sure over vhc 
 round and slippery timbers of the log-bri<lges, renders 
 them ^ery valuable. If they want the spirit and fleet- 
 ncss of some of our high-bred blood-h( '^ses, they make 
 up in gentleness, strength, and ])atience 'I'his renders 
 them most truly valuable, as they wil ravel in such 
 ]»la(!es that no British horse would, with equal safety to 
 their drivers. Nor arc the Canadian horses, when well 
 fed and groomed, at all deficient in beauty of colour, size, 
 or form. They are not very often used in logging ; 
 the ox is preferred in all rough and heavy labour of this 
 kind. 
 
 Just as the increasing gloom of the forest Ix^gan to 
 warn us of the approach of evening, and I was getting 
 weary and hungry, our driver, in some confusion, avowed 
 his belief that, son)chow or other, he had missed the 
 track, though how, he could not tell, seeing there was but 
 one road. We were nearlv two miles from the last set- 
 tlement, and he said we ought to be within sight of the 
 lake if we were on the right road. The only plan, we 
 agreed, was for him to go forward and leave the team, 
 and endeavour to ascertain if he were near the water, 
 and if otherv ' <e, to return to the house we had passed, 
 and inquire the way. 
 
 After running full half a mile ahead he returned with 
 a dejected countenance, saying we must be wrong, for he 
 saw no appearance of water, and the road we were on 
 appeared to end in a cedar swamp, as the farther he 
 went the thicker the hemlocks and cedars became ; so, as 
 we had no desire to commence our settlement by a night's 
 lodging in a swamp — where, to use the expression of our 
 driver, the cedars grew as thick as hairs on a cat's back, 
 — we agreed to retrace our steps. 
 
 After some difficulty the lumbering machine was 
 turned, and slowly we began our backward march. Wo 
 

 ^, 
 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT.3) 
 
 k 
 
 r// 
 
 ^/ 
 
 .,«■ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 y 
 
 y wJ9 
 
 [A 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 11.25 
 
 IM 125 
 
 ■^ 1^ |2.2 
 It 1^ 1 2^ 
 
 
 j^ 
 
 V2 
 
 0% 
 
 W ^2 
 
 / 
 
 Hiotographic 
 
 Sciences 
 Corporation 
 
 33 WeST MAIN STREiT 
 
 WiBSTiR.N.Y. 145S0 
 
 (7l6)«7a-4503 
 
 l\ 
 
 iV 
 
 ^ 
 
 o 
 
 4t^ 
 
 <^ ^ 
 
 o^ 
 
 '^J%^ 
 
 ^.v 
 
 '^ 
 
,^ 
 
 
 Is 
 
,< r 
 
 90 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 had not gone more than a mile when a boy came along, 
 who told us we might just go back again, as there was 
 no other road to the lake ; and added, with a knowing 
 nod of his head, ** Master, I guess if you had known the 
 bush as well as I, you would never have been ^t/ie enough 
 to turn when you were going just right. Why, any 
 body knows that them cedars and himlocks grow thickest 
 near the water ; so you may just go back for your 
 pains," 
 
 It was dark, save that the stars came forth with more 
 than usual brilliancy, v hen we suddenly emerged from 
 the depth of the gloomy forest to the shores of a beau- 
 tiful little lake, that gleamed the more brightly from the 
 contrast of the dark masses of foliage that hung over it, 
 and the towering pine-woods that girt its banks. 
 
 Here, seated on a huge block of limestone, which was 
 covered with a soft cushion of moss, beneath the shade 
 of the cedars that skirt the lake, surrounded with trunks, 
 boxes, and packages of various descriptions, which the 
 driver had hastily thrown from the waggon, sat your 
 child, in anxious expectation of some answering voice to 
 my husband's long and repeated halloo. 
 
 But when the echo of his voice had died away we 
 heard only the gurgling of the waters at the head of the 
 rapids, and the distant and hoarse murmur of a waterfall 
 some half-mile below them. 
 
 We could see no sign of any habitation, no gleam of 
 light from the shore to cheer us. In vain we strained 
 our ears for the plash of the oar, or welcome sound of 
 the human voice, or bark of some household dog, that 
 might assure us were not doomed to pass the night in the 
 lone wood. 
 
 We began now to apprehend we had really lost the 
 way. To attempt returning through the deepening dark- 
 ness of the forest in search of any one to guide us was 
 quite out of the question, the road being so ill de lined that 
 we should soon have been lost in the mazes of the woods. 
 The last sound of the waggon-wheels had died away in 
 the distance ; to have overtaken it would have been im- 
 |)08sible. Bidding me remain quietly where I was, my 
 
WELCOME BECEPTION. 
 
 91 
 
 husband forced his way through the tangled underwood 
 along the bank, in hope of discovering some sign of the 
 house we sought, which we had every reason to suppose 
 must be near, though probably hidden by the dense mass 
 of trees from our sight. 
 
 As I sat in the wood in silence and in darkness, my 
 thoughts gradually wandered back across the Atlantic to 
 mv dear mother and to my old home ; and I thought 
 what would have been your feelings could you at that 
 moment have beheld me as I sat on the cold mossy stone 
 in the profound stillness of that vast leafy wilderness, 
 thousands of miles from all those holy ties of kindred and 
 early associations that make home in all countries a hal- 
 lowed spot. It was a moment to press u|)on my mind 
 the importance of the step I had taken, in voluntarily 
 sharing the lot of the emigrant — in leaving the land of 
 my birth, to which, in all probability, 1 might never 
 again return. Great as was the sacrifice, even at that 
 moment, strange as was my situation, I felt no ])ainful 
 regret or fearful misgiving depress my mind. A holy 
 and tranquil peace came down upon me, soothing and 
 softening my spirits into a calmness that seemed as un- 
 ruffled as was the Ijosom of the water that lay stretched 
 out before my feet. 
 
 My reverie was broken by the light plash of a paddle, 
 and a bright line of light showed a canoe dancing over 
 the lake : in a few minutes a well-known and friendly 
 voice greeted me as the little bark was moored among 
 the cedars at my feet. My husband having gained a 
 projecting angle of the shore, had discovered the wel- 
 come blaze of the wood fire in the log-house, and, after 
 some difficulty, had succeeded in rousing the attention of 
 its inhabitants. Our coming that day had long been given 
 up, and our first call had been mistaken for the sound of 
 the ox-bells in the wood : this had caused the delay that 
 had so embarrassed us. 
 
 Wo soon forgot our weary wanderings beside the bright 
 fire that blazed on the hearth of the log-house, in which 
 
 we found S comfortably domiciled with his wife. 
 
 To the lady I was duly introduced ; and, in spite of 
 
92 
 
 IIACKWOODS or CANADA. 
 
 i', 
 
 i> . 
 
 t ' 
 
 
 i 
 
 J" 
 
 
 i '( 
 
 I "i". 
 
 f r ■■i^^ 
 
 all remonstrances I'roni the aff'ectionaie and carerul mo- 
 ther, three fair slee|)in^^ rhihh'en wi-re suceessivcly lianded 
 out of tlieir cribs to be shown nie l)y 'lieir j*routi an.i de- 
 lighted father. 
 
 Our welconje was triven with that unaffected cordiality 
 that is so prateful to the heart: it was as sincere as it was 
 kind. All means were adopted to soften the rouirhne.-=> 
 of our acconnnodation, which, if they lacked that I'lr. 
 gance and convenience to which we had been accu>- 
 tomed in Enjrland, were not devoid of rustic comfort ; 
 at all events they were such as many settlers of the tiiM 
 respectability have been p^lad to content themselves witli, 
 and many have not been half so well lodged as we nov. 
 are. 
 
 We may indeed consider ourselves fortunate in not be- 
 ing obliged to go at once into the rude shanty that I <lr- 
 scribed to you as the only habitation on our land. This 
 
 test of our I'ortitude was kindly spared us by S , 
 
 who insisted on our remaining beneath his hospitable root 
 till such time as we should liave put up a house on our 
 own lot. Here then we are for the \)rvsvnij^.iefl, as the 
 Canadians say ; and if I miss many of the little comforts 
 and luxuries of life, I enjoy excellent health and spirits. 
 and am very happy in the society of those arounrl me. 
 
 The children are already very fond of me. They have 
 discovered my passion for flowers, w Inch they diligently 
 search for among the stumps and along the lake shore. 
 I have begun collecting, and though the season is far ad- 
 vanced, my hortus siccus boasts of several elegant sjjcoi- 
 mens of fern; the yellow Canadian violet, which blooms 
 twice in the year, in the spring and fall, as the autumnal 
 season is expressively termed ; two sorts of Michaelmas 
 daisies, as we call the shrubby asters, of which the 
 varieties here are truly elegant ; and a wreath of the fcp- 
 toon pine, a pretty evergreen with creeping stalks, thai 
 run along the ground three or four yards in length. 
 sending up, at the distance of five or six inches, erect. 
 stifJ", green stems, resembling some of our heaths in tin 
 dark, shining, green, chaffy leaves. The Americans or- 
 nament their chimney -glasses with garlands of this plant, 
 
A ''IIEE." 
 
 93 
 
 caroful mo. 
 vi'iy liandtMl 
 oud aii.l do- 
 
 ;d cordiality 
 •ore as it \va V 
 o rouirhiioss 
 <l that (']«•. 
 been accu.s- 
 ['w comfort ; 
 of the Hrsi 
 selves with, 
 as we now 
 
 in not bo- 
 s' that I (\v- 
 and. This 
 
 yS , 
 
 pitable root 
 >use on our 
 '.red, as the 
 e comforts 
 nd spirits, 
 unri me. 
 They have 
 diligently 
 ake shore, 
 is far ad- 
 rant spc'ci- 
 |eh blooms 
 autumnai 
 lichaeliiia^ 
 'hich tin 
 )f the fcp- 
 [alks, thai 
 n length . 
 les, erect, 
 Ihs in thf 
 ricans or- 
 ms plant, 
 
 ;ii:.\i(l wiib the dried blossoms of thclife-cverlastiiig (the 
 nrotty w bite and yellow flowers wi'call love-ev(>rl;isting) : 
 ibis plant is also called festoon-pine. In my rambbvs in 
 ;hc uood near the house I have discovere<l a trailing 
 jilaiit bearing a near resiMublance to the cedar, \\hicb I 
 consider has, with ecpiai j»ropriety, a claim to the name 
 (.f ground or creeping cedar. 
 
 As much of tluj botany of these unsettled portions of 
 ♦he country is unknown to the naturalist, and th(» j)lants 
 aPLMjuite nameless, I takethi liberty of bestowifig names 
 ijion thcjn according to inclination or fancy, l^ut while 
 I am writing about flowers I am forgetting that you will 
 !ii> more interested in hearing what stej)s we are taking 
 on our land. 
 
 My husband has hired i)eople to log up (that is, to 
 draw the chopped timbers into hcaj)s for burning) and 
 clear a sjiace for building our house* upon. He has also 
 entered into an agreement with a young settler in our 
 vicinity to complete it for a certain smn within and with-* 
 out, according to a given plan. We are, however, to 
 eall the " bee," and j)rovide every thing necessary ibr 
 the entertainment of our worthy hive. Now, you know 
 that a "bee," in Aaierican language, or rather phrase- 
 ology, signifies those friendly meetings of neighbours 
 who assemble at your summons to raise the walls of your 
 house, shanty, barn, or any other building : this is termed 
 a " raising-bee." Then there are logging-bees, husking- 
 hees, chopping-bees, and quilting-bees. The nature of the 
 work to be done gives the name to the bee. In the 
 mure populous and long-settled dij.tricts this ])ractice is 
 much discontinued, but it is highly nselul, and almost 
 indispensable to new settlers in the remote townships, 
 where the price of labour is proportionably high, and 
 workmen dilHcult to be j)rocurcd. 
 
 Imagine the situation of an emigrant with a wife and 
 young family, the latter possibly too young and helpless 
 to render him the least assistance in the important busi- 
 ness of chopping, logging, and building, on their first 
 eoming out to take possession of a lot of wild land ; 
 liow deplorable would their situation be, unless they 
 

 1 1 
 
 94 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 J 1 
 
 • 1 
 
 1^:: 
 
 • t 
 
 l.Tr 
 
 :il 
 
 J' ■■ 
 
 mm' 
 
 r 1 
 
 could receive quick and ready help from those around 
 them. 
 
 This laudable practice has grown out of necessity, and 
 if it has its disadvantages, such for instance as bein": 
 called upon at an inconvenient season for a retuni of 
 help, by those who have formerly assisted you, yet it is 
 80 indispensable to you that the debt of gratitude ought 
 to be cheerfully repaid. It is, in fact, regarded in the 
 light of a debt of honour : you cannot be forced to attend 
 a bee in return, but no one that can attend does refuse, 
 unless from urgent reasons ; and if you do not find it pos- 
 sible to attena in person you may send a substitute m a 
 servant, or in cattle if you have a yoke. 
 
 In no situation, and under no other circumstance, docs 
 the equalizing system of America appear to such advan- 
 tage as in meetings of this sort. All distinctions of rank, 
 education, and wealth are for the time voluntarily laid 
 aside. You will see the son of the educated gentleman 
 and that of the poor artizan, the officer and the private 
 soldier, the independent settler and the labourer who 
 works out for hire, cheerfully uniting in one common 
 cause. Each individual is actuated by the benevolent 
 desire of affording help to the helpless, and exerting 
 himself to raise a home for the homeless. 
 
 At present so small a portion of the forest is cleared 
 on our lot, that I can give you little or no description of 
 the s|)ot on which we are located, otherwise than that it 
 borders on a fine expanse of water, which forms one of 
 the Otanabee chain of Small Lake. I hope, however, 
 to give you a more minute description of our situation in 
 my next letter. 
 
 For the present, then, I bid you adieu. 
 
 i • 
 
 i r ■• 
 
 *i^' 
 
 iirfi 
 
 ^5ij' 
 
 
INCOXVEXIEXCES OF FIRST SETTLEMrST. 
 
 96 
 
 lose around 
 
 Letter VIII, 
 
 I iDConveniences of first Settlement. — DiflBculty of obtaining 
 Provisions and other necessaries. — Snow-storm and Hurri- 
 cane. — Indian Summer, and setting in of Winter. — Process 
 of clearing the Land. 
 
 November 20, 1832. 
 
 Olr log-house is not yet finished, though it is in a state 
 of forwardness. We are still indebted to the hos))itable 
 
 kindness of S and his wife for a home. This 
 
 being their first settlement on their land, they have as 
 vet many difficulties, in common with all residents in the 
 backwoods, to put up with this year. They have a fine 
 block of land, well situated ; and S laughs at 
 
 the present privations, to which he opposes a spirit of 
 icheertulness and energy that is admirably calculated to 
 lertect their conquest. They are now about to remove 
 to a larger and more commodious house that has been 
 ])ut up this fall, leaving us the use of the old one till our 
 I own is ready. 
 
 We begin to get reconciled to our Robinson Crusoe 
 isort of life, and the consideration that the present evils 
 arc but temporary, goes a great way towards reconciling 
 |U8 to them. 
 
 One of our greatest inconveniences arises from the 
 I badness of our roads, and the distance at which we are 
 placed from any village or town where provisions are to 
 I be procured. 
 
 Till we raise our own grain, and fatten our own hogs, 
 
 I sheep, and poultry, we must be dependent upon the 
 
 stores for food of every kind. These supplies have to be 
 
 brought up at considerable expense and loss of time, 
 

 OG 
 
 BACKWOCliS OF CANADA. 
 
 ''. f V 
 
 *x.: 
 
 ;l. '., :.'*i 
 
 \\.H 
 
 f'l 
 
 throup:h our btautifnl bush roads; wliicli, to iiq» iL; 
 words of a poor liisli woman, " ran't l)o no wor-rr," 
 *' Ocli, darlint," she said, '* hut thoy arc just ha<l ( iKiii.h, 
 and ("un't ho no worscr. Och, but they arn't like U) our 
 iligant roads in Irohmd." 
 
 You may send down a list of grocerirs to bo forwarded 
 when (I team comes up, and wlien we examine our stores, 
 bchohJ rice, sugar, currants, pepper, and nir.-tard all 
 junilded into one mess. Wliat think you of a ricp. 
 pudding seasoned ph'ntifully with j)epper, nnistard, and, 
 may be, a little rappee or prince's mixture added h\ 
 way of sauce. I think the recij)c would cut (|uitr a 
 figure in the Cook's Oracle, or Mrs. Dalgairn's Pra( tic 
 of Cookery, under the original title of a "bush jtud- 
 ding." 
 
 And then woe and destruction to the brittle ware tlia: 
 may chance to travel through our roads. Lu(;ky, indcid. 
 are wo if, through the superior carefulness of the perse 
 who packs them, more than one-half happens to arrive ir 
 safety. For such mishaps we have no redress. Th' 
 storekeeper lays the accident upon the teamster, and the 
 teamster upon the bad roads, wondering that he him- 
 self escapes with whole bones after a journey through 
 the bush. 
 
 This is now the worst season of the year — this, an! 
 just after the breaking up of the snow. Nothing hardh 
 but an ox-cart can travel along the roads, and even tliat 
 with difficulty, occupying two days to perfonn the jour- 
 ney ; and the worst of the matter is, that there are timt^ 
 when the most necessary articles of provisions are not to 
 be procured at any price. You see, then, that a settlor 
 in the bush requires to hold himself pretty independent, 
 not onl}' of the luxuries and delicacies of the table, but 
 not unfrequtnitly even of the very necessaries. 
 
 One time no pork is to be procured ; another time 
 there is a scarcity of flour, owing to some accident that 
 has happened to the mill, or for the want of proper sup- 
 ])lies of wheat for grinding ; or perhaps the weather and 
 bad roads at the same time prevent a team coming up, or 
 ijeoj)le from going down. Then you must have recourse 
 
 m 
 
 'f» 
 
SUDhTlTLTE ioR TEA. 
 
 07 
 
 to a nci^^liI)onr, if yon havr the {rood fortune to bo noar 
 one, or tart' tho Ik'sI you can on potatoes. 'J'hc potato 
 U imli'i'il a {rrt.'at Messinij: liore ; new si'ttk-rs nnoiiM otlM-r- 
 wiso l)t' often greatly distrL'js.sL'tl, and tlu' poor man an<i 
 iiis family who art; without resoureus, without tlu; potato 
 uiu.st starve. 
 
 Once our stock of tea was exhausted, and we were un- 
 able to procure more. In tliis. diU-niuia niiik wouhl have 
 boon an exceUent substitute, or coffee, if we had possessed 
 it; but we had neitiier the one nor the other, so we 
 uirroed to try tlie Vunkee tea — hendock spri«:s boiled. 
 This proved, to my taste, a vile decoction ; though 1 
 recojrnised some herb in the tea that was sold in Loiidon 
 attive shillings a pound, whicii 1 am certain was nothing 
 bettor than dried hendock leaves reduced to a course? 
 jjowder. 
 
 S laughed at our wry faces, declarinp^ the 
 
 jX)tation was excellent ; and he set us all an example by 
 drinking' six cups of this tridy sylvan beverage. IJis 
 eloquence failed in gaining a single convert : we could 
 not believe it was only second to young hyson. To his 
 assurance that to its other good qualities it united medi- 
 cinal viitues, we replied that, like all other physic, it was 
 very unpalatable. 
 
 ''After all," said S , with a thoughtful air, 
 
 •the blessings and tlie evils of this life owe th«'ir chief 
 I'tfoct to the force of contrast, and are to be esti Mited by 
 that principally. We should not aj)preciatc th^ conj- 
 torts we enjoy half so much did we not occasionally iecl 
 the want of them. How we shall value the conveniences 
 of a cleared farm alter a few years, when we can realize 
 all the necessaries and many of the luxuries of life." 
 
 " And how we shall enjoy green tea after this odious 
 decoction of hemlock," said 1. 
 
 "■ Very true ; and a comfortable frame-house, and nice 
 garden, and j)leasant ])astures, after these dark ibrests, 
 log-houses, and no garden at all." 
 
 " And the absence of horrid black stumj)s," rejoined 
 I. " Yes, and the absence of horrid stumps. Depend 
 upon it, my dear, your Canadian farm will seem to you a 
 
1. 
 
 08 
 
 nACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 i 
 
 I- 
 
 
 ■wfc ' 
 
 . 'I 
 
 % 
 
 r 
 
 m 
 
 It 
 
 '• • • 
 
 
 
 ^'\ \ 
 
 perfect paradise by the time it is all under cultivation 
 und you will look u]>on it with the more pleasure an! 
 pride from the consciousness that it was once a forts: 
 wild, which, by the cti'ects of industry and well-appluHl 
 means, has changed to fruitful fiehls. Every fresh com- 
 fort you realize around you will add to your happiness: 
 every improvement within-doors or without will raise a 
 sensation of gratitude and delight in your mind, to which 
 those that revel in the habitual enjoyment of luxury, and 
 even of the commonest advantages of civilization, must in 
 a ^eat degree be strangers. My pass-words are, * IIojm: 
 Resolution ! and Perseverance !' 
 
 "This," said my husband, "is true philosophy; and 
 the more forcible, because you not only recommend thi 
 maxim, but {rracticc it also." 
 
 I had reckoned nmch on the Indian summer, of which 
 I had read such delightful descriptions, but I must say 
 it has fallen far below my expectations. Just at the 
 commencement of this month (November) we experi- 
 enced three or four warm hazy days, that proved rather 
 close and oppressive. The sun looked red through the 
 misty atmospnerc, tinging the fantastic clouds that hunc: 
 in smoky volumes, with saffron and pale crimson light, 
 much as I have seen the clouds above London look on a 
 warm, sultry spring morning. 
 
 Not a breeze ruffled the waters, not a leaf (for the 
 leaves had not entirely fallen) moved. This perfect 
 stagnation of the air was suddenly changed by a hurricane 
 of wind and snow that came on without any previous 
 warning. I was standing near a group of tall pines that 
 had been left in the middle of the clearing, collecting 
 
 some beautiful crimson lichens, S not being 
 
 many paces distant, with his oxen drawing fire-wood. 
 Suddenly we heaid a distant hollow rushing sound that 
 momentarily increased, the air around us bemg yet per- 
 fectly calm. I looked up, and beheld the clouds, hi- 
 therto so motionless, movmg with amazing rapidity in 
 several different directions. A dense gloom overspread 
 
 the heavens. S , who had been busily engaged 
 
 with the cattle, had not noticed my being so near, and 
 
IIUBRICiNE. 
 
 99 
 
 iconimt'ncl tbt 
 
 now called to me to use ull the sikhhI I could to pain the 
 house, or an open part of the clearing, distant from the 
 j.int'-trccs. Instinctively I turned towards the house, 
 while the thundering shock of trees falling in all ilirec- 
 tions at the edge of the forest, the rending of the 
 liranches from the pines I had just Quitted, and the rush 
 (4' the whirlwind sweeping down the lake, made me 
 sensible of the danger with which I had been threat- 
 ened. 
 
 The scattered boughs of the pines darkened the air as 
 they whirled above me ; then came the blinding snow- 
 storm : but I could behold the progress of the tempest in 
 sut'ety, having gained the threshold of our house. The 
 driver of the oxen had thrown himself on the ground, 
 while the poor beasts held down their meek heads, pa- 
 tiently abiding " the pelting of the pitiless storm.'* 
 
 S , my husband, and the rest of the household, 
 
 tollected in a group, watched with anxiety the wild 
 havoc of the warring elements. Not a leaf remained on 
 the trees when the hurricane was over ; they were bare 
 and desolate. Thus ended the short reign of the Indian 
 summer. 
 
 1 think the notion entertained by some travellers, that 
 the Indian summer is caused by the annual conflagration 
 of forests by those Indians inhabiting the unexplored 
 regions beyond the larger lakes is absurd. Imagine for 
 an instant w hat immense tracts of woods must be yearly 
 consumed to affect nearly the whole of the continent of 
 North America : besides, it takes place at that season of 
 the year when the fire is least likely to run freely, owmg 
 to the humidity of the ground from the autumnal rains. 
 I should rather attribute the peculiar warmth and hazy 
 appearance of the air that marks this season, to the fer- 
 mentation going on of so great a mass of vegetable matter 
 that is undergoing a state of decomposition during the 
 latter part of October and beginning of November. It 
 hiis been supposed by some persons that a great altera- 
 tion will be effected in this season, as the process of 
 clearing the land continues to decrease the quantity of 
 decaying vegetation. Nay, I have heard the difference 
 
 ^1 
 
(■ 
 
 loo 
 
 IIA« KWooIjS or CANADA, 
 
 I' 
 
 hi 
 
 Jj 
 
 i^ 
 
 
 
 •I 
 
 ^^1 
 
 is ulrciidy <)l)S('r\.il)l(' I»v tlni>r loii^^ iU'(|Uiiiiit«'<l witli '!. 
 Aiiicricaii (-oiitiiiriit. 
 
 1 lilli Ttd my cxpfni'iico <»t" tlic cliiiiato i'^ fiivoiiraMi 
 'I'lic iiiitiiiiin lias luTii MTV fine, tlioiijjli tlic tVo't^ ir 
 felt railv ill tlu' iii()ii?li ol' SriitcinlhT ; at fir>t sI'iuIjiIn . (.• 
 a iiioniiii;;, Imt towaitls ()<'l(»lM'r more srvort'ly. »Stil.. 
 th()ii;:!i tlir first j»an of tlit- day is cold, the miiiillc o\ if 
 is warm and cluMTriil. 
 
 We aln-.idy sr<? tin' stri-ii a<!va!i('PS of Nvintcr. It ((.i.-i- 
 iiK'iKM'd \«'rv ilcc'idi'dlv Irom t'ln' l»r( alviiiu: ni> of il- 
 Indian Hmimcr. \i»\iml»»'r is not at ;ill like \\iv siniio 
 niontli .it liomc. 'i'lir cai'ly part wa.-; soft and waiin, lii" 
 latter cuUl, with k«<ii frosts and occasional };.!Is (»t'Mi(».\ ; 
 but it docs not socm to possess tlif dark, irlooniy, diimij I K 
 
 (•iiaractcr (;f our l>riti>!i N»»\(inl)cr: 
 
 ii 
 
 owv'vcr, It )s not 
 
 o;ie .seuson's U('(|iiuintan<'(' witii tin* climate tii.it ( nai !•' 
 a pci'soii to form any correct jud<rinent of its ^'■encn' 
 character, hut a close observance of its peculiariti* 
 anil vicis.>itudes during m.my years* residence in tli 
 
 country 
 
 1 nnist now tell von vAi,A mv husband is doinu' on our 
 
 land. Ilu has Kt out ten acres to some 
 
 IrisI 
 
 I chojtpcrs 
 
 who have established themselves in the shantv lor the 
 winter. Th(?y are to receive Ibiu'teen dollars jK'r ucri' 
 ibr choppiiiir, bin-nin<:-, and leMcin<j- in that (|nantitv. 
 'i'he uroimd is to be i)erfect!v cleared of evervthiiiir ijiit 
 the stinnps: these will take from seven to nine oi- tci; 
 ears to decay ; the pine, hendock, an<l fir remain much 
 
 h)ni: 
 
 er 
 
 Th 
 
 le )»rocess o[ clearniLf away the stumps js too 
 
 th 
 
 expensive for new bcL^inners to venture upon, lahciii 
 lu'in^ Fo hi<:h that it eannct be appropriated to any hut 
 indispcnsabli? work. The workiii;:" s.ason is very short 
 on acc'«>nnt of the leii.'vth of time the frost remains on tiic 
 ground. With the exception of choppinn' trees, vcrv 
 littlt; can l)e <lone. 'J'hose that nmh-rstand the prt);)'." 
 niana}.a*ment of uncleare»l land, usually nntlerbrnsh (tna: 
 is, cut down all the small timbers and brushwood), wliiic 
 the leaf is yet on them : this is piled in heaj)s, and the 
 vvindfallen trees are chopped through in lengths, to bt 
 logged u]) in the spring with the winter's chopping. 
 
jtivl with •!. 
 
 f 
 
 s iiivoitr;i!i 
 St sliulitlv . 
 
 LMH'ly. >>!i 
 
 iiiitMlr (M 
 
 tcr. 
 
 It 
 
 (M:i. 
 
 r ui> of ti 
 
 kv i! 
 
 U' SiilllO 
 
 1(1 Wiirm, fii.' 
 
 .!ls of 
 
 I, 
 
 ClUll It' 
 
 !(»(»IIIV, <ii'.lli)» 
 
 ■\<r, it is not 
 
 tiiat 
 f its <j"('ii(n 
 
 pccnliiirt;. 
 rii<«; ill ill' 
 
 ,) 
 
 iloiuLT on (Hir 
 isli ('lioj)|i('r>; 
 
 mty lor tlio 
 irs per acre 
 
 It (inaiititv. 
 
 •rvtliiiii:' l)iir 
 
 iiiin' oi' !(■:; 
 
 'iiiaiii iiiiK'ii 
 T^miijKS is t(M» 
 
 Ion, 
 
 lai 
 
 )i II! 
 
 to anv hut 
 
 very s 
 
 mis on iiM 
 
 h(i:t 
 ti: 
 
 tree 
 
 'S. vcrv 
 
 Itl 
 
 le proiH- 
 
 hrns 
 
 na. 
 
 )0( 
 
 h(t 
 I), wiiiK' 
 Is, and the 
 :tlis, to be 
 I chopping. 
 
 ( lui ) 
 
 
M .;,.-^' 
 
 i 
 
 ?. 
 
 i; i 
 
 
 
 102 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 The latter end of the summer and the autumn arc the 
 best seasons for this work. The leaves then becoino 
 quite dry and sear, and greatly assist in the important 
 business of burning off the heavy timbers. Another 
 reason is, that when the snow has fallen to some depth, 
 the li^^ht timbers cannot be cut close to the ground, or 
 tne dead branches and other incumbrances collected and 
 thrown in heaps. 
 
 We shall have about three acres ready for spring-crops, 
 provided we get a good burning of that which is already 
 chopped near the site of tbe bouse — this will be sown 
 with oats, pumpkins, Indian corn, and potatoes : the 
 other ten acres will be ready for putting in a crop ot 
 wheat. So you see it will be a long time before we reap 
 a harvest. We could not even get in spring-wheat 
 early enough to come to perfection this year. 
 
 We shall try to sret two cows in the spring, as they 
 are little expense dunng the spring, summer, and autumn ; 
 and by the winter we shall have pumpkins and oat- 
 straw ibr them. 
 
 t ti' 
 
 '■,.|! 
 
 ■ i' 
 
 t 
 
 ■..:.r 
 
LOSS OF A YOKE OF OXEN. 
 
 ;03 
 
 Letter IX. 
 
 Loss of a Yoke of Oxen. — Construction of a Log-house. — 
 Glaziers' and Carpenters' work. — Description of new Log- 
 house. — Wild Fruits of the Country. — Walks on the Ice. — 
 Situation of the House. — Lake, and surrounding Scenery. 
 
 Lake House, 
 
 April 18, 1833. 
 
 But it is time that I should give you some account of 
 our log-house, into which we moved a few days before 
 Christmas. Many unlooked-for delays having hindered 
 its completion before that time, I began to think it would 
 never be habitable. 
 
 The first misfortune that happened was the loss of a 
 fine yoke of oxen that were purchased to draw in the 
 house-logs, that is, the logs for raising the walls of the 
 house. Not regarding the bush as pleasant as their 
 former master's cleared ])astures, or perhaps foreseeing 
 some hard work to come, early one morning they took 
 into their heads to ford the lake at the head of the rapids, 
 and march off, leaving no trace of their route excepting 
 their footing at the water's edge. After many days 
 spent in vain search for them, the work was at a stand, 
 and for one month they were gone, and we began to give 
 up all expectation of hearing any news of them. At last 
 we learned they were some twenty miles off, in a distant 
 township, having made their way through bush and 
 twamp, creek and lake, back to their former owner, with 
 an instinct that supplied to them the want of roads and 
 compass. 
 
 Oxen have been known to traverse a tract of wild 
 country to a distance of thirty or forty miles, going in a 
 
 f2 
 
104^ 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 4 , ''r 
 
 > 
 
 % 
 
 1 
 
 
 • i^ : ■-■ 
 
 1 
 
 
 ' ' '!• 
 
 J, : 
 
 
 , h^ ' 
 
 
 '■J f :\ 
 
 .( 
 
 m 
 
 
 ifP -^ 
 
 ^'.-' 
 
 direct line for tlioir former haunts by unknown patiis, 
 wlicro mcnjory could not avail thorn. In the do^'- wc 
 consider it is tjcent as well as njcniorv that truides him to 
 his far-oti home ; but how is this conduct of the oxen to 
 be accounted for ? They returned home through tl.r 
 mazes of interminable forests, where man, with all his 
 reason and knowledge, would have been bewildered a:u! 
 lost. 
 
 It was the latter end of Octo])cr before even the wall> 
 of our house were up. To effect this we called " a bee." 
 Sixteen of our neighbours cheerfully obeyed our sum- 
 mons ; and though the day was far from favourable, so 
 faitliiully did our hive perform their tasks, that by night 
 the outer walls were raised. 
 
 The work went merrily on with the help of j)l('nty of 
 Canadian nectar (whiskey), the honey that our hers arc 
 solaced with. Some huge joints of salt pork, a peck of 
 potatoes, with a rice-pudding, and a loaf as big as an 
 enormous Cheshire cheese, formed the feast that was to 
 regale them during the raising. This was spread out in 
 the shanty in a vert/ niral style. In short, we laugiKHJ. 
 and called it apic-nic in the backwoods ; and rude as Wiis 
 the fare, I can assure you, great was the satisfaction ex- 
 pressed by all the guests of every degree, our "bee'' 
 being considered as very well conducted. In spite 
 of the difference of rank among those that assisted at the 
 bee, the greatest possible harmony prevailed, and the 
 party separated well pleased with the day's work and en- 
 tertainment. 
 
 The following day I went to sur"ey the newly-raised 
 edifice, but was sorely puzzled^ as it presented very little 
 appearance of a house. It was merely an oblong square 
 of logs raised one above the other, with open spaces be- 
 tween e\ ery row of log§. The spaces for the doors and 
 windows were not then chopped out, and the afters 
 were not up. In short, it looked a very queer sort of 
 a ])lace, ana I returned home a little disappointed, and 
 wondering that my husband should be so well pleased 
 with the progress that had been made. A day or two 
 alter this I again visited it. The sleepers were laid to 
 
ANNOYING CIRCUMSTANCES. 
 
 105 
 
 cuppoit the floors, and the places for the doors and win- 
 dows cut out Oi' the solid timbers, so that it had nut quite 
 so much the look of a bird-cage as before. 
 
 After the roof was shingled, we were again at a stand, 
 as no boards could be procured nearer than Peterborough, 
 a long day's journey through horrible roads. At that 
 time no saw-mill was in progress ; now there is a fine 
 one building within a little distance of us. Our flooring- 
 boards were all to be sawn by hand, and it was some 
 time before any one could be found to perform this ne- 
 cessary work, and that at high wages— six-and-six pence 
 [cr day. Well, the boards were at length down, but of 
 course of unseasoned timber : this was unavoidable ; so, 
 as they could not be planed, we were obliged to ])ut up 
 with their rough unsightly appearance, for no better 
 were to be had. I began to reca! to mind the observa- 
 tion of the old gentleman with whom we travelled from 
 Cobourg to nice Lake. We console ourselves with 
 the prospect that by next summer the boards will 
 all be seasoned, and then the house is to be turned 
 topsy-turvy, by having the floors all relaid, jointed, and 
 smoothed. 
 
 The next misfortune that happened was thut the 
 mixture of clay and lime that was to plaster the inside 
 and outside of the house between the chinks of the logs 
 was one night frozen to stone. Just as the work was 
 about half completed, the frost suddenly setting in put 
 a stop to our proceeding for some time, as the frozen 
 plaster yielded neither to fire nor to hot water, the latter 
 freezing before it had any etiect on the mass, and rather 
 making bad worse. Then, the workman that was hcw- 
 intr the inside walls to make them smooth wounded him- 
 self with the broad axe, and was unable to resume his 
 work lor some time. 
 
 I state these things merely to show the difficulties that 
 attend us in the fulfilment of our ])lans ; and this accounts 
 in a irreat measure for the humble dwellinc:^ that settlers 
 of the most respectable description are obliged to con- 
 tent themselves with at first coming to this country, 
 liot, you may be assured, from inclination, but necessity : 
 

 « 
 
 •4. 
 
 
 \\ ■■ :' ji' 
 
 V\ 
 
 fM^' •" 
 
 
 m 
 
 lOG 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 I could pivc you such narratives of this kind as would 
 astonish you. After all, it serves to make us more satis- 
 fied than we should be on casting our eyes around to soe 
 few better off than wo are, and many not half so com- 
 fortable, yet of equal, and, in some instances superior, 
 pretensions as to station and fortune. 
 
 Every man in this country is his own glazier ; this 
 you will laugh at, but if he docs not wish to see and feel 
 the discomfort of broken panes, he must learn to put 
 them in his windows with his own hands. Workmen 
 are not easily to be had in the backwoods when you 
 want them, and it would be preposterous to hire a man 
 at high wages to make two days' journey to and from 
 the nearest town to mend your windows. Boxes of glass 
 of several different sizes are to be bought at a very cheap 
 rate in the stores. My husband amused himself by 
 glazing the windows of the house preparatory to their 
 being fixed in. 
 
 To understand the use of carpenters' tools, I assure 
 you, is no despicable or useless kind of knowledge here. 
 I would strongly recommend all young men coming to 
 Canada to acquire a little acquaintance with this valuable 
 art, as they will often be put to great inconvenience ibr 
 the want of it. 
 
 I was once much amused with hearing the re- 
 marks made by a very fine lady, the reluctant sharer of 
 her husband's emigration, on seeing the son of a naval 
 officer of some rank in the service busily employed in 
 making an axe-handle out of a piece of rock-elm. 
 
 ** I wonder that you allow George to degrade himself 
 80," she said, addressing his father. 
 
 The captain looked up with surprise. " Degrade 
 himself ! In what manner, madam ? My boy neither 
 swears, drinks whiskey, steals, nor tells lies.'* 
 
 *' But you allow him to perform tasks of the most 
 menial kind. What is he now better than a hedge-car- 
 penter ; and'I suppose you allow him to chop too ? " 
 
 *' Most assuredly I do. That pile of logs in the cart 
 there was all cut by him after he had left study yes- 
 terday," was the reply. 
 
CHARACFEBISTIC DIALOGUE. 
 
 107 
 
 " i would sec my boys dead belbre they sliould use 
 an axo like common labourers." 
 
 *' Idleness is the root of all evil," said tlio cajitain. 
 " How much worse might my s m be employed it' he 
 were runnin^r wild about streets with bad companions !" 
 
 " You will allow this is not a country lor gentlemen 
 or ladies to live in,'' said the lady. 
 
 *' It is the country lor gentlemen that will not work 
 and cannot live without, to starve in," replied the captain, 
 bluntly; "and for that reason I make my boys early ac- 
 custom themselves to be usefully and actively employed." 
 
 *' My boys shall never work like common mechanics," 
 said the lady, indignantly. 
 
 '* Then, madam, they will be good for nothing as 
 settlers ; and it is a pity you dragged them across the 
 Atlantic." 
 
 " We are forced to come. We could not live as we 
 had been used to do at home, or I never would have 
 come to this horrid country." 
 
 " Ilavino: come hither vou would be wise to conform 
 to circumstances. Canada is not a place for idle folks to 
 retrench a lost fortune in. In some parts of the country 
 you will find most articles of provisions as dear as in 
 London, clothing much dearer, and not so good, and a 
 bad market to choose in." 
 
 " I should like to know, then, who Canada is good 
 for ? " said she, angrily. 
 
 "It is a good country for the honest, industrious ar- 
 tisan. It is a fine country for the poor labourer, who, 
 after a few years of hard toil, can sit down in his own 
 log-house, and look abroad on his own land, and see his 
 children well settled in life as independent freeholders. 
 It is a grand country for the rich speculator, who can 
 afford to lay out a large sum in purchasing land in eli- 
 gible situations; for if he have any judgment, he will 
 make a hundred per cent, as interest for his money after 
 waiting a few years. But it is a hard country for the 
 poor gentleman, whose habits have rendered him unfit 
 ibr manual labour. He brings with him a mind untitted 
 
I'i 
 
 ■i ' 
 1/ "^ .1 
 
 , " 
 
 
 'i ' 
 
 .s ';: 
 
 ■ 'I. 
 
 I- ■ . 
 
 , •- * 
 • '' 
 
 , * P' ■ 
 
 t • :• ji* •. • 
 
 ., • ;:• 
 
 ( 
 
 1 '*' ^ " 
 
 1 
 
 
 1 , /■ ■ ■' . 
 .i 'P 
 
 
 
 I't 
 
 ^ 1 
 
 108 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 to his situation ; and even if necessity compels him to 
 exertion his hihour is of little value. lie has a hard 
 struprglc to live. The certain expenses of waires and 
 living' are great, and he is obliged to en<lurc nianj' pri- 
 vations if he would keep within compass and be free of 
 debt. If he have a large family, and brings them up 
 wisely, so as to adapt themselves early to a settler's life, 
 why he does well for them, and soon feels the benefit on 
 his own land : but if he is idle himself, his wife extrava- 
 gant and discontented, and his children taught to despise 
 labour, why, madam, they will soon be brought down to 
 ruin. In short, the country is a good country for those 
 TO whom it is adapted ; but if people will not conform to 
 the doctrine of necessity and expediency, they have no 
 business in it. It is plain Canada is not adapted to 
 every class of people." 
 
 " It was never adapted for mc or my family," said the 
 lady, disdainfully. 
 
 " Very true," was the laconic reply; and so ended 
 the dialogue. 
 
 But while I have been recounting these remarks, I 
 have wandered far from my original subject, and left my 
 poor log-house quite in an unfinished state. At last I 
 was told it was in a habitable condition, and I was soon 
 engnged in all the bustle and fatigue attendant on re- 
 moving our household goods. We received all the 
 
 assistance we required from , who is ever ready and 
 
 willing k) help us. He laughed, and called it a 
 *' momng bee ;" I said it was a *' fixing bee ;" and my 
 husband said it was a ** settling bee ;" I know we were 
 unsettled enough till it was over. What a din of desola- 
 tion is a small house, or any house under such circum- 
 stances ! The idea of chaos must have been taken from 
 u removal or a setting to rights, for I suppose the 
 ancients had ihaxr Jlitting , as the Scotch call it, as well 
 as the moderns. 
 
 Various were the valuable articles of crockery-ware 
 that perished in their short but rough journey through 
 the woods. Peace to their manes. I had a good helper 
 
liKSCRIPTIOX or LOG -HOUSE. 
 
 109 
 
 ill my Iii.-sh maid, wlio soon roused up famous fires, and 
 set tlu' liousc in onlcr. 
 
 Wo liav(» now p)t quite comfortably settled, and I 
 shall uivc yo'.i a description of our little dwelling. What 
 is iiiiisiied is only a part of the orijrinal plan; the rest 
 must bo added next spring, or fall, as circunistiinces may 
 suit. 
 
 A nice small sitting-room with a store-closet, a 
 kitdien, pantry, and bed-ciianil)er, I'orm the ground 
 floor ; there is a good upper floor that will make three 
 siceping-rooins. 
 
 " What a nut-shell !" I think I hear you exclaim. 
 So it is present ; but we pur])ose adding a handsome 
 frame IVont as soon as wc can get boards from the mill, 
 ^vhich will give us another parlour, long hall, and good 
 span bed-room. The windows and glass doors of our 
 present sitting-room command pleasant lake-views to the 
 west and south. When the house is completed, wc 
 shall have a verandah in front ; and at the south side, 
 which ibrms an agreeable addition in the summer, being 
 used as a sort of outer room, in which wc can dine, and 
 have the advantage of cool air, protected from the glare 
 of the sunbeams. The Canadians call these verandahs 
 "stonps.'' Few houses, either log or frame, are with- 
 out them. The pillars look extremely pretty, wreathed 
 with the luxuriant hop-vine, mixed with the scarlet 
 creeper and " morning glory,' the American name for 
 the most splendid of major convolvuluses. These stoups 
 are really a considerable ornament, as they conceal in a 
 great measure the rough logs, and break the barn-like 
 form of the building. 
 
 Our parlour is warmed by a handsome Franklin stove 
 with brass gallery and fender. Our furniture consists of 
 a brass-railed sofa, which serves upon occasion for a bed, 
 Canadian painted chairs, a stained pine table, green and 
 white curtains, and a handsome Indian mat that coveri 
 the floor. One side of the room is filled up with our 
 books. Some large maps and a few good prints nearly 
 conceal the rough walls, and form the decoration of our 
 
 Our bed-chamber is furnished with 
 
 little dwelling 
 
 r3 
 
h • 
 
 _.. ,,^ 
 
 < 
 
 • ■ 1 
 
 « 
 
 ' f ..■ 
 
 
 » 1 , ^ 
 
 
 1 
 
 ^0 
 
 
 
 i'i 
 
 1 * 
 
 
 • . 
 
 it 
 
 . ■) ■ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 « • 
 
 ) A' 
 
 110 
 
 BACKWOODS or CANADA, 
 
 ♦ -^ 
 
 equal simnlirity. Wc do not, however, lack comfort in 
 our humble home ; and though it is not exactly such as 
 we coul<l wish, it is as good as, under existing circum- 
 stances, we could have. 
 
 I am anxiously looking forward to the spring, that I 
 may get a garden laid out in front of the liouse ; as I 
 mean to cultivate some of the native fruits and flowers, 
 which, I am sure, will improve greatly by culture. The 
 strawberries that grow wild in our pastures, woods, and 
 clearings, are several varieties, and bear al)undantly. 
 They make excellent preserves, and I mean to intro- 
 duce beds of them into my garden. There is a pretty 
 little wooded islet on our lake, that is called Strawberry 
 island, another Raspberry island ; they abound in a 
 variety of fruits — wild grapes, raspberries, strawberries, 
 black and red currants, a wild gooseberry, and a beauti- 
 ful little trailing plant that bears white flowers like the 
 raspberry, and a darkish purple fruit consisting of a few 
 grains of a pleasant brisk acid, somewhat like in flavour 
 to our dewberry, only not quite so sv/eet. The leaves 
 of this plant are of a bright light green, in shape like 
 the raspberry, to which it bears in some respects so 
 great a resemblance (though it is not shrubby or thorny) 
 that I have called it the *' trailing raspberry." 
 
 I suppose our scientific botanists in Britain would con- 
 sider me very imj)ertinent in bestowing names on the 
 flowers and plants I meet with in these wild woods : I 
 can only say, I am glad to discover the Canadian or even 
 the Indian names if 1 can, and where they fail I consi- 
 der myself free to become their floral godmother, and 
 give them names of my own choosing. 
 
 Among our wild fruits we have j)lums, which, in some 
 townships, are very fine and abundant ; these make ad- 
 mirable preserves, especially when boiled in maple mo- 
 lasses, as is done by the American housewives. Wild 
 cherries, also a sort called choke cherries, from their 
 peculiar astringent qualities, high and low bush cran- 
 berries, blackberries, which are brought by the Squaws 
 in birch baskets — all these are found on the plains and 
 beaver meadows. The low-bush cranberries are brought 
 
WALKS ON THE ICE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 )u crroat (pianlitios by tho Indians to the towns anil vi!- 
 latr<s. 'riify t'orm a standing prescrvo on the tca-tahh's 
 in most of the settlers' houses : but for richness of 
 flavour, and for beauty of appearance, I achnire the high- 
 bush crard)erries; these are little sought after, on ac- 
 count of the large flat seeds, which prevent them from 
 being used as a jam ; the jelly, however, is delightful, 
 both in colour and flavour. 
 
 The bush on which this cranberry grows resembles 
 the guelder rose. The blossoms are pure white, and 
 grow in loose umbels; thev are very ornamental, when 
 in bloom, to the woods and swamps skirting the hikes. 
 The berries are rather of a long oval, and of a brilliant 
 scarlet, and when just touched by the frosts, arc semi- 
 transparent, and look like pendent bunches of scarlet 
 grapes. 
 
 1 was tempted one fine frosty afternoon to take a walk 
 with my husband on the ice, which I was assured was 
 perfectly safe. I must confess for the first half-mile I 
 felt very timid, especially when the ice is so transparent 
 that you may see every little ])ebble or weed at the 
 bottom of the water. Sometimes the ice was thick and 
 white, and quite opaque. As we kept within a little 
 distance of the shore, I was struck by the appearance of 
 some splendid red berries on the leafless bushes that 
 hung over the margin of the lake, and soon recognized 
 them to be the aforesaid high-bush cranberries. My 
 husband soon stripped the boughs of their tempting 
 treasure, and I, delighted with my prize, hastened home, 
 and boiled the fruit with some sugar, to eat at tea with 
 our cakes. I never ate anything more delicious than 
 they proved ; the more so perhaps from having been so 
 long without tasting fruit of any kind, with the exception 
 of preserves, during our journey, and at Peterborough. 
 
 Soon after this 1 made another excursion on the ice, 
 but it was not in quite so sound a state. We neverthe- 
 less walked on for about three-quarters of a mile. We 
 were overtaken on our return by S with a hand- 
 sleigh, which is a sort of wheelbarrow, such as porters 
 use, without sides, and instead of a wheel, is fixed on 
 
 1 
 
:J 
 
 
 112 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 ,».'' 
 
 ' M 
 
 \f 
 
 IM i .■•■ ' r 
 
 - f 
 
 I 1' r 
 
 
 woodon runners, which you can drap: over tlie snow and 
 ice with the greatest ease, it' ever so lieavily hidcn. 
 
 S insisted that \w wouhi draw me liouie over the ico 
 
 like a Lapland lady on a sledge. I was soon scat* d in 
 
 ed lor- 
 
 state, and in another minute felt myself inijieli 
 ward with a velocity that nearly took away my hrealh. 
 By the time we reached the shore I was in a glow iioin 
 head to foot. 
 
 You would be pleased with the situation of our house. 
 The sj)ot chosen is the summit of a fine sloping bank 
 above the lake, distant from the water's edge some hun- 
 dred or two yards : the lake is not quite a mile from 
 shore to shore. To the south again we connnand a dif- 
 ferent view, which will be extremely pretty when fully 
 opened, a fine smooth basin of water, diversified with 
 beautiful islands, that rise like verdant groves from its 
 bosom. Below these there is a fall of some feet, where 
 the waters of the lakes, confined within a narrow channel 
 between beds of limestone, rush along with great impe- 
 tuosity, foaming and dashing up the spray in mimic clouds. 
 
 During the summer the waters are much lower, and 
 we can walk for some way along the flat shores, which 
 are composed of different strata of limestone, full of 
 fossil remains, evidently of very recent formation. 
 Those shells and river-insects that are scattered loose 
 over the surface of the limestone, left by the recession 
 of the waters, are similar to the shells and insects in- 
 crusted in the body of the limestone. I am told that 
 the bed of one of the lakes above us (I forget which) is 
 of limestone ; that it abounds in a variety of beautiful 
 river-shells, which are deposited in vast quantities in 
 the difierent strata, and also in the blocks of lime- 
 stone scattered along the shores. These shells are also 
 found in great profusion in the soil of the Beaver meadows. 
 
 When I see these things, and hear of them, I regret 
 I know nothing of geology or conchology ; as I might 
 then be able to account for manv circumstances that at 
 present only excite my curiosity. 
 
 Just below the waterfall I was mentioning there is a 
 curious natural arch in the limestone rock, which at this 
 
 111 '';■;-■'■ ,! 
 
T.AKi:, .V>D SLRROUNDINO SCENERY. 
 
 lis 
 
 recession 
 
 |)bco rises to a lioitrht of ton or fif'toen feet like a wall ; 
 it is composed of iarfre plates of prev limestone, lying* 
 one \\\mn the other ; the arch seems like a rent in tho 
 wall, l)iit worn away, and hollowed, possihly, hy the 
 action of wat<T rushing: thronprh it at some hiirl: flood. 
 Tree^ prow on tho to|) of this rock. Ilendock Hrs and 
 tcdars arc wavinjr on tliis eh^vated spot, above the tur- 
 biiiiMit waters, and elothinir the stone barrier with a sad 
 but never-fadinpr verdure. Here, too, the wild vine, red 
 creeper, and i)oison-el(ler, luxuriate, and wreathe fan- 
 tastic bowers above the moss-covered masses of the 
 stone. A sudden turn in this bank brought us to a 
 broad, perfectly flat and smooth bed of the same stone, 
 occupying a space of full fifty feet alonpr the shore. Be- 
 tween the fissures of this bed I found some rose-bushes, 
 and a variety of flowers that had sprunp: up during the 
 sjirinq: and summer, when it was left dry, and free iVom 
 the action of the water. 
 
 This place will shortly bo appropriated for the ])uild- 
 inir of a saw and grist-mill, which, I fear, will interfere 
 witii its natural beauty. I dare say, I shall be the only 
 person in the neighbourhood who will regret the erec- 
 tion of so useful and valuable an acciuisition to this 
 portion of the township. 
 
 The first time you send a parcel or box, do not forget 
 to enclose flower-seeds, and the stones of plums, dam- 
 sons, bullacc, pips of the best kinds of apples, in the 
 orchard and garden, as apples may be raised here from 
 seed, which will bear very good fruit without being 
 grafted ; the latter, however, arc finer in size and flavour, 
 i sliould be grateful for a few nuts from our beautiful 
 old stock-nut trees. Dear old trees ! how many gambols 
 have ne had in their branches when I was as light of 
 spirit and as free from care as the squirrels that perched 
 among the topmost boughs above us. " Well," you will 
 say, '' the less that sage matrons talk of such wild tricks 
 as climbing nut-trees, the better." Fortunately, young 
 ladies are in no temptation here, seeing that nothing but 
 a squirrel or a bear could climb our lofty forest-trees. 
 Even a sailor must give it up in despair. 
 
i 
 
 \t 
 
 < I.. 
 
 I,'! , 
 
 '4. 
 
 ■ < 1 
 
 114 
 
 BACKWOODS OP CANADA. 
 
 I am vcTV (icsirons of havinc: the seeds of our wild 
 primrose and sweet violet preserved lor me ; I Ion),' to 
 introduce tlurii in our nieudows and gardens. IVay, let 
 the cotta^'e-cliiidren collect some. 
 
 Mv husband requests a small (juantity of lucerne-seed, 
 which he seems inclined to think may be cultivated to 
 advantage. 
 
 .. I 
 
 Ai* 
 
 
VABIATIONS IN THE TEMPERATURE. 
 
 115 
 
 of our wild 
 e ; I long to 
 i- Tray, \vt 
 
 uforne-soed, 
 ::ultivateU tri 
 
 Lktter X. 
 
 Variations in the Temperature of the Weather.— Electrical 
 Phenomenon.— Canadian Winter.— Country deficient in 
 Poetical Associations. — Sugar-making.— Fishing Season. 
 —Mode of Fishing. — Duck-shooting. — Family of Indians. 
 ^Papouaei and their Cradle-cases. — Indian Manufactures. 
 —Frogs. 
 
 Lake House, May 9, 1833. 
 
 What a different winter this has been to what I had an- 
 ticipated ! The snows of December were continually 
 thawing ; on the 1st of January not a flake was to bie 
 seen on our clearing, though it lingered in the bush. 
 The warmth of the sun was so great on the first and 
 second days of the new year that it was hardly possible 
 to endure a cloak, or even shawl, out of dooi*s; and 
 within, the fire was quite too much for us. The weather 
 remained pretty open till the latter part of the month, 
 when the cold set in severely enough, and continued so 
 during February. The 1st of March was the coldest 
 day and night I ever experienced in my life ; the mer- 
 cury was down to twenty-five degrees in the house ; 
 abroad it was much lower. The sensation of cold early 
 in the morning was very painful, producing an involun- 
 tary shuddering, and an almost convulsive feeling in the 
 chest and stomach. Our breaths were congealed in 
 hoar-frost on the sheets and blankets. Everything we 
 touched of metal seemed to freeze our fingers. This ex- 
 cessive degree of cold only lasted three days, and then a 
 gradual amelioration of temperature was felt. 
 
 During this very cold weather I was surprised by the 
 frequent recurrence of a phenomenon that I suppose was 
 
116 
 
 IIACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 
 *H 
 
 M 
 
 mm^ 
 
 'I 
 
 
 , f y- »■■■ 
 
 $ 
 
 of an doctrinal nature, WlH>n tlie frosts wcro most 
 intense I notieed tliat when I undressed, \ny clothes 
 wiiieh are at this cohi season eliiefly of woollen cloth, or 
 lined with flannel, ^ave out when moved a succession of 
 sounds, like the crackling and snapping of fire, and in 
 the absence of a candle emitted sparks of a jjale whitish 
 blue liirht, similar to the flashes produced by cutting 
 loaf-sugar in the dark, or stroking the back of a black 
 cat : the same efi'ect was also produced when I combed 
 and brushed my hair.* 
 
 The snow lay very deep on the ground during Feb- 
 ruary, and until the lOtli of March, when a rapid thaw 
 commenced, which continued without intermission till 
 the ground was thoroughly freed from its hoary livery, 
 which was ellected in less than a fortnight's time. The 
 air during the progress of the thaw was much warmer 
 and more balmy than it usually is in England, when a 
 disagreeable damp cold is felt during that i)rocess. 
 
 Thoucrh the Canadian winter has its disadvantacres, it 
 also has its charms. After a day or two of heavy snow 
 the sky brightens, and the air becomes exquisitely clear 
 and free from vapour ; the smoke ascends in tall spiral 
 columns till it is lost : seen against the saffron-tinted sky 
 of an evening, or early of a clear morning, when the 
 hoar-frost sparkles on the trees, the effect is singularly 
 beautiful. 
 
 I enjoy a walk in the woods of a bright winter-day, 
 when not a cloud, or the faint shadow of a cloud, obscures 
 the soft azure of the heavens above ; when but for the 
 silver covering of the earth I might look upwards to the 
 cloudless sky and say, " It is June, sweet June." The 
 evergreens, as the pines, cedars, hemlock, and balsam 
 firs, are bending their pendant branches, loaded with 
 snow, which the least motion scatters in a mimic shower 
 around, but so light and dry is it that it is shaken otf 
 without the slightest inconvenience. 
 
 The tops of the stumps look quite pretty with their 
 
 
 *: 
 
 * This phenomenon is common enough everywhere when 
 the air is vei^ dry. — Ed. 
 
CANADIAN WINTER. 
 
 117 
 
 turbans of snow; a blackened pine-stump, with its white 
 cap and mantle, will often startle you into the belief that 
 some one is approaching you thus fancifully attired. As 
 to ghosts or spirits, they appear totally banished from 
 Canada. This is too matter-of-fact country for such 
 suj)ornaturals to visit. Here there are no historical asso- 
 ciations, no legendary tales of those that came before us. 
 Fancy would starve for lack of marvellous food to keep 
 her alive in the backwoods. We have neither fay nor 
 fairy, ghost nor bogle, satyr nor wood-nymph ; our very- 
 forests disdain to shelter dryad or hamadryad. No naiad 
 haunts the rushy margin of our lakes, or hallows with 
 her presence our forest-rills. No Druid claims our oaks ; 
 and instead of poring with mysterious awe among our 
 curious limestone rocks, that are often singularly grouped 
 toprether, we refer them to the geologist to exercise his 
 skill in accounting for their apjjearancc : instead of in- 
 vesting them with the solemn characters of ancient 
 temples or heathen altars, we look upon them with the 
 curious eye of natural philosophy alone. 
 
 Even the Irish and Highlanders of the humblest class 
 seem to lay aside their ancient superstitions on becoming 
 denizens of the woods of Canada. I heard a friend ex- 
 claim, when speaking of the want of interest this country 
 possessed, " It is the most unpoetical of all lands ; there 
 is no scope for imagination ; here all is new — the very 
 soil seems new ly formed ; there is no hoary ancient 
 grandeur in these woods ; no recollections of former 
 deeds connected with the country. The only beings in 
 which I take any interest are the Indians, and they want 
 the warlike character and intelligence that I had pic- 
 tured to myself they would possess'* 
 
 This was the lamentation of a poet. Now, the class 
 of people to whom this country is so admirably adapted 
 is formed of the unlettered and industrious labourers 
 and artisans. They feel no regret that the land they 
 labour on has not been celebrated by the pen of the his- 
 torian or the lay of the poet. The earth yields her 
 increase to them as freely as if it had been enriched by 
 the blood of heroes. They would not spare the ancient 
 
U''' 
 
 •^:'V. . 
 
 118 
 
 BACKWOODS OP CANADA. 
 
 ■ 
 
 r . 
 
 
 \i ^ 
 
 ■Hi 
 
 ' '.i 
 
 
 ■ ''. .! ' 
 
 M,: ^^.i; 
 
 ■ ', . 
 
 
 1 
 
 ■f '' 
 
 
 ,tr:' 
 
 'i 
 
 .^: 
 
 p 
 
 Ji:::; 
 
 oal: from feelinjrs of veneration, nor look upon it with 
 regard i'or anythinf^ but its use as timber. They hax 
 no time, even if they possessed the taste, to gaze abroad 
 on the beauties of Nature, but their ignorance is bliss. 
 
 After all, these are imaginary evils, and can hardly be 
 considered just causes for dislike to the country. Thev 
 would excite little sympathy among every-day men and 
 women, though doubtless they would have their weight 
 with the more refined and intellectual members of 
 society, who naturally would regret that taste, learn- 
 ing, and genius should be thrown out of its proper 
 sphere. 
 
 For myself, though I can easily enter into the feelings 
 of the poet and the enthusiastic lover of the wild and the 
 M'onderful of historic lore, I can yet make myself very 
 happy and contented in this country. If its volume of 
 history is yet a blank, that of Nature is open, and elo- 
 quently marked by the finger of God ; and from its 
 pages I can extract a thousand sources of amusement and 
 interest whenever I take my walks in the forest or by 
 the borders of the lakes. 
 
 But I must now tell you. of our sugar-making, in 
 which I take rather an active part. Our experiment was 
 on a very limited scale, having but one kettle, besides 
 two iron tripods ; but it was sufficient to initiate us in 
 the art and mystery of boiling the sap into molasses, 
 and finally the molasses down to sugar. 
 
 The first thing to be done in tapping the maples, is to 
 provide little rough troughs to catch the sap as it flows : 
 these are merely pieces of pine-tree, hollowed with the 
 axe. The tapping the tree is done by cutting a gash in 
 the bark, or boring a hole with an auger. The former 
 plan, as being most readily performed, is that most 
 usually practised. A slightly-hollowed piece of cedar or 
 elder is then inserted, so as to slant downwards and 
 direct the sap into the trough ; I have even seen a flat 
 chip made the conductor. Ours were managed according 
 to rule, you may be sure. The sap runs most freely 
 after a frosty night, followed by a bright warm day ; it 
 should be collected during the day in a barrel or large 
 
SUGAR-MAiLING. 
 
 119 
 
 trough, capable of holdinjr all that can be boiled down 
 the same evening ; it should not stand more than twenty- 
 four hours, as it is apt to ferment, and will not grain well 
 unlt'^^s fresh. 
 
 My husband, with an Irish lad, began collecting the 
 sap the last week in March. A pole was fixed across 
 two forked stakes, strong enough to bear the weight of 
 the big kettle. Their employment during the day was 
 emptying the troughs and chopping wood to supply the 
 fires. In the evening they lit the fires and began boil- 
 insr down the sap. 
 
 It was a pretty and picturesque sight to see the sugar- 
 boilers, with their bright log-tire among the trees, now 
 stirring up the blazing pile, now throwing in the liquid 
 and stirring it down with a big ladle. When the fire 
 jrew fierce, it boiled and foamed up in the kettle, and 
 they had to throw in fresh sap to keep it from running 
 over. 
 
 When the sap begins to thicken into molasses, it is 
 then brought to the sugar-boiler to be finished. The 
 process is simple ; it only requires attention in skimming 
 and keeping the mass from boiling over, till it has arrived 
 at the sugaring point, which is ascertained by dropping 
 a litde into cold water. When it is near the proper 
 consistency, the kettle or pot becomes full of yellow 
 froth, that dimples and rises in large bubbles from be- 
 neath. These throw out puti's of steam, and when the 
 molasses is in this stage, it is nearly converted into 
 sugar. Those who pay great attention to keeping the 
 liquid free from scum, and understand the precise sugar- 
 ing point, will produce an article little, if at all, inferior 
 to muscovado.* 
 
 In general you see the maple-sugar in large cakes, 
 like bees' wax, close and compact, without showing the 
 crystallization; but it looks more beautiful when the 
 
 * Good well-made maple-sugar bears a strong resemblance 
 to that called powdered sugar-candy, sold by all grocers as 
 a delicate article to sweeten coffee ; it is more like maple- 
 bugar in its regular crystallizations. 
 

 f 
 
 ■ m 
 
 >1'!i» '•'■ 
 
 
 » 'I 
 
 : :t 
 
 VI' 
 
 
 
 r -^ , 
 
 I, J; 
 
 I .!'": 
 
 
 if 
 
 ■'•■•; 'I1 1' 
 'i 
 
 h 
 
 r;i?(; 
 
 ■■»'■: 
 
 ...1M.ll 
 
 ■■^"^i 
 
 ■ ■ ! 
 
 i:,. •Hi 
 
 120 
 
 BACKWOODS or CANADA. 
 
 grain is coarse and sparkling, and the sugar is broken in 
 roiJiili masses like sugar-candy. 
 
 The sugar is rolled or scraped down with a knife H r 
 use, as it takes long to dissolve in the tea without this 
 preparation. I superintended the last part of the pre 
 cess, that of boiling the molasses down to sugar ; and, 
 considering it was a first attempt, and without any ex- 
 perienced person to direct me, otherwise than tlie in^ 
 
 formation 1 obtained from , I succeeded tolerably 
 
 well, and produced some sugar of a fine sparkling grain 
 and good colour. Besides the sugar, I made about throe- 
 gallons of molasses, which proved a great comfort to us, 
 forming a nice ingredient in cakes and an excellent sauce 
 for puddings.* 
 
 The Yankees, I am told, make excellent preserves witn 
 molasses instead of sugar. The molasses boiled from 
 maple-sap is very different from the molasses of the West 
 Indies, both in flavour, colour, and consistency. 
 
 Beside the sugar and molasses, we manufactured a 
 small cask of vinegar, which j)romises to be good. This 
 was done by boiling five ])ails-full of sap down to two, 
 and fermenting it after it was in the vessel with barm ; it 
 was then placed near the fire, and suiiered to continue 
 there in preference to being exposed to the sun's hcat.f 
 With regard to the expediency of making maple-sugar, 
 it depends on circumstances whether it be profitable or 
 not to the farmer. If he have to hire hands for the 
 work, and pay high wages, it certainly does not answer 
 to make it, unless on a large scale. One thing in its 
 favour is, that the sugar season commences at a time 
 when little else can be done on the farm, with the ex- 
 ception of chopping, the frost not being sufficiently out 
 of the ground to admit of crops being sown ; time is, 
 therefore, less valuable than it is later in the spring. 
 
 When there is a large family of children and a conve- 
 nient sugar-bush on the lot, the making of sugar and mo- 
 lasses is decidedly a saving ; as young children can be 
 employed in emptying the troughs and collecting fire 
 
 * See note C. 
 
 f See note D. 
 
FISHING SEASON. 
 
 121 
 
 r is broken in 
 
 itli a knife j'( r 
 I without this 
 vt of the j)r(:. 
 3 sugar ; and, 
 bout any tx- 
 than the in. 
 (led tolerably 
 arkling p-m 
 c about three 
 comfort to u<, 
 Lceilent sauce 
 
 reserves witn 
 boiled from 
 5 of the Wost 
 [icy. 
 
 nufactured a 
 good. This 
 clown to two, 
 vith barm ; it 
 I to continue 
 sun's heat.f 
 maple- sugar, 
 profitable or 
 ands for the 
 5 not answer 
 thing in its 
 }s at a time 
 with the ex- 
 fficiently out 
 vn ; time is, 
 spring, 
 md a convey 
 igar and aio- 
 dreii can be 
 lecting fire- 
 
 0. 
 
 wood, the bigger ones can tend the kettles and keep up 
 the fire while the sap is boiling, and the w ife and daugh- 
 ters can finish oft' the sugar within-doors. 
 
 Maple-sugar sells for fourpence and sixpence per 
 pound, and soyietimes for more. At first I did not par- 
 ticularly relish the flavour it gave to tea, but after awhile 
 I liked it far better than muscovado, and as a sweetmeat 
 it is to my taste delicious. I shall send you a specimen 
 by the first opportunity, that you may judge for yourself 
 of its excellence. 
 
 The weather is now very vvarm — oppressively so. We 
 can scarcely endure the heat of the cooking-stove in the 
 kitchen. As to a fire in the parlour there is not much 
 need of it, as I am glad to sit at the open door and enjoy 
 tlic Likc-breeze. The insects are already beginning to 
 be troublesome, particularly the black flies'— u wicked- 
 looking fly, with black body and white legs and wings ; 
 you do not feel their bite for a few minutes, but are made 
 aware of it by a stream of blood flowing from the wound ; 
 after a few hours the part swells and becomes extremely 
 painful. 
 
 These " 6g«s^/c5 " chiefly delight in biting the sides 
 of the throat, ears, and sides of the cheek, and with me 
 the swelling continues for many days. The mosquitoes 
 are also very annoying. I care more for the noise they 
 make even than their sting. To keep them out of the 
 house we light little heaps of damp chips, the smoke of 
 which drives them away ; but this remedy is not entirely 
 effectual, and is of itself rather an annoyance. 
 
 This is the fishing season. Our lakes are famous for 
 maoquinonge, salmon-trout, white fish, black bass, and 
 many others. We often see the lii^hted canoes of the 
 fishermen pass and repass of a dark night before our 
 door. S is considered very skilful as a spears- 
 man, and enjoys the sport so much that he seldom misses 
 a night favourable for it. The darker the night and the 
 calmer the water the better it is for the fishing. 
 
 It is a very pretty sight to see these little barks slowly 
 stealing from some cove of the dark pine-clad shores, and 
 

 L.^, 
 
 >!' '. 
 
 ■i 
 
 > • • 
 
 !, -'Til 
 
 
 I \' 
 
 * ,1'.' 
 
 i 
 
 ♦ "■/ill I 
 
 II 
 
 
 V'-'il 
 
 ,,l' 
 
 m 
 
 i-nm 
 
 'Ir'-! 
 
 ft,,!«n 
 
 ).i 
 
 122 
 
 BACKWOODS or CANADA. 
 
 manoeuvring among the islands on the lakes, rendered 
 visible in the darkness by the blaze of lijrht cast on tiic 
 water iVoni the jack — a sort of open grated iron basket, 
 fixed to a long pole at the bows of the skirt' or canoe. 
 This is filled with a very combustible substance called 
 fat-pine, which burns with a fierce and rapid flame, or else 
 with rolls of birch-bark, which is also very easily ignited. 
 
 The light from above renders objects distinctly visible 
 below the surface of the water. One person stands up in 
 the middle of the boat with his fish-s))ear — a sort of iron 
 trident, ready to strike at the fish that he may chance to sec 
 gliding in the still-waters, while another with his paddle 
 steers the canoe cautiously along. This sport requires a 
 quick eye, a steady hand, and great caution in those that 
 pursue it. 
 
 I delight in watching these torch-lighted canoes so 
 quietly gliding over the calm waters, which are illu- 
 minated for yards w'th a bright track of light, by which 
 we may distinctly perceive the figure of the ppearsman 
 standing in the centre of the boat, first glancing to one 
 side, then the other, or poising his weapon ready for a 
 blow. When four or five of these lighted vessels are 
 seen at once on the fishing-ground, the eft'ect is striking 
 and splendid. 
 
 The Indians are very expert in this kind of fishing ; 
 the squaws paddling the canoes with admirable skill and 
 dexterity. There is another mode of fishing in which 
 these people also excel : this is fishing on the 'ce when 
 the lakes are frozen over — a sport that requires the exer- 
 cise of great patience. The Indian, provided with his 
 tomahawk, with which he makes an opening in the ice, 
 a spear, his blanket, and a decoy fish of wood, proccedi 
 to the place he has fixed upon. Having cut a hole in 
 the ice he places himself on hands and knees, and casts 
 his blanket over him, so as to darken the water and con- 
 ceal himself from observation ; in this position he will 
 remain for hours, patiently watching the ap|.:'oach of his 
 prey, which he strikes with fldmirable precision as soon 
 las it appears within the reach of his spear. 
 
^^1LD i>ucKS* 
 
 123 
 
 The masquinonpe thus caught are superior in flavour 
 to those taken later in the season, and may be bought 
 very reasonably lioni the Indians. I gave a small loaf 
 of bread for a fish weighing from eighteen to twenty 
 j)Ounds. The masquinongc is to all appearance a large 
 gpecies of the pike, and possesses the ravenous propen- 
 sities of that fish. 
 
 One of the small lakes of the Otanabec is called Trout 
 Lake, from the abundance of salmon-trout that occupy 
 it> waters. The white fish is also found in these lakes, 
 and is very delicious. The large sorts of fish are mostly 
 taken with the spear, few persons having time for angling 
 in this busy country. 
 
 As soon as the ice breaks up, our lakes are visited by 
 innumerable flights of wild fowl ; some of the ducks are 
 extremely beautiful in their plumage, and are very fine- 
 flavoured. I love to watch these pretty creatures, float- 
 ing so tranquilly on the water, or suddenly rising and 
 skiniming along the edge of the pine-fringed shores, 
 to drop again on the surface, and then remain stationary, 
 like a little fleet at anchor. Sometimes we see an old 
 duck lead out a brood of little ones from among tho 
 rushes ; the innocent, soft things look very pretty, sailing 
 round their mother, but at the least appearance of danger 
 they disappear instantly by diving. The frogs are great 
 enemies to the young broods ; they are also the prey of 
 the masquinonge, and I believe, of other large fish that 
 abound in these waters. 
 
 The ducks are in the finest order during the early 
 part of the summer, when they resort to the rice-becis 
 in vast numbers, getting very fat on the green rice, 
 which they eagerly devour. 
 
 The Indians are very successful in their duck-shooting : 
 they fill a canoe with green boughs, so that it resembles 
 a sort of floating island ; beneath the cover of these 
 boughs they remain concealed, and are enabled by this 
 device to approach much nearer than they otherwise 
 could do to the wary birds. The same plan is often 
 i.iio)>ted by our own sportsmen with great success. 
 
 A family of Indians have pitched their tents very near 
 
 ■I 
 
 < 
 
 ;; 
 
 i: 
 
 
,il 
 
 '() 
 
 i^ 
 
 
 ■'i ■' ! 
 
 ■«* 'I 
 
 ft, "" 
 
 
 JL*n •'. 1 
 
 
 
 ¥': 
 
 I 'i ' 
 
 ■ % ■ 
 
 
 
 
 124 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 US. On one of the islands in our lake we can distingui.<ih 
 the thin blue smoke of their wood fires, rising anion^' 
 the trees, from our front window, or curlint? over the 
 bosom of the waters. 
 
 The scjuaws have been several times to see me ; some- 
 times from curiosity, sometimes with the view of bartering 
 their baskets, mats, ducks, or venison, for j)ork, flour, 
 potatoes, or articles of wearing- apparel. Sometimes 
 their object is to borrow "kettle to cook," which they 
 are very punctual in returning. 
 
 Once a squaw came to borrow a washing-tub, but not 
 understanding her language, I could not for some time 
 discover the object of her solicitude ; at last she took up 
 a corner of her blanket, and pointing to some soap, began 
 rubbing it between her hands, imitated the action oi 
 washing, then laughed, and pointed to a tub ; she then 
 held up two fingers, to intimate it was for two days she 
 needed the loan. 
 
 These people appear of gentle and amiable dispo- 
 sitions ; and, as far as our experience goes, they are very 
 honest. Once, indeed, the old hunter, Peter, obtained 
 from me some bread, for which he promised to give a 
 pair of ducks, but when the time came for payment, and 
 1 demanded my ducks, he looked gloomy, and replied 
 with characteristic brevity, '' No duck. Chippewa (mean- 
 ing S , this being the name they have afli'ectionately 
 
 given him) gone up lake with canoe — no canoe — duck 
 by-and-by." By-and-by is a favourite expression of the 
 Indians, signifying an indefinite point of time ; may be 
 it means to-morrow, or a week, or a month, or it may be 
 a year, or even more. They rarely give you a direct 
 promise. 
 
 As it is not wise to let any one cheat you if you can 
 prevent it, I coldly declined any further overtures to 
 bartering with the Indians until my ducks made their 
 appearance. 
 
 Some time afterwards I received one duck by the 
 hands of Maquin, a sort of Indian Flibberty-gibbet: 
 this lad is a hunchbacked dwarf, very shrewd, but a per- 
 fect imp ; his delight seems to be tormenting the brown 
 
 ■IrM] 
 
CJ 
 
 1r 
 
 ■t(.i 
 
 W<. 
 

 • I 
 
 •:«4 
 
 * ■ 
 
 ■ \ 
 
 r 
 
 ■t 
 ■1 
 
 ' 
 
 ,< 
 
 •1 
 
 ,1 
 
 t 
 
 »■ .^ 
 
 'I 
 i 
 
 
 4i 
 
 
 '^r 
 
 
 '■ • ' m 
 
 111 f till 
 
 ' jj:''-.. ■■11 
 
 I 
 
 
 126 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 babios in the viprwam, or tcasine: the mock dccr-honnds. 
 He speaks English very fluently, and writes tolerably for 
 an Indian boy ; he usually aceom|)anies the women in 
 their visits, and acts as their interpreter, grinning wiiii 
 mischievous glee at his mother's bad English and mv 
 
 Ferplexity at not being able to understand her signs. 
 n spite of his extreme deformity, he seemed to possess 
 no inconsiderable share of vanity, gazing with great 
 satisfaction at his face in the looking-glass. When 1 
 asked his name, he replied, " Indian name Maquin, but 
 English name * Mister Walker,' very good man ;" this 
 was the person he was called after. 
 
 These Indians are scrupulous in their observance of 
 the Sabbath, and show great reluctance to having any 
 dealings in the way of trading or pursuing their usual 
 avocations of hunting or fishing on that Ouy. 
 
 The young Indians are very expert in the use of a 
 long bow, with wooden arrows, rather heavy and blunt 
 at the end. Maquin said he could shoot ducks and small 
 birds with his arrows ; but I should think they were not 
 calculated to reach objects at any great distance, as they 
 appeared very heavy. 
 
 *Tis sweet to hear the Indi ins singing their hymns of 
 a Sunday night ; their rich and soft voices rising in the 
 still evening air. I have often listened to this little 
 choir praising the Lord's name in the simplicity and 
 fervour of their hearts, and have felt it was a reproach 
 that these poor half-civilised wanderers should alone be 
 found to gather together to give glory to God in the 
 wilderness. 
 
 I was much pleased with the simple piety of our friend 
 the hunter, Peter's squaw, a stout swarthy matron, of 
 most amiable expression. We were taking our tea when 
 she softly opened the door and looked in ; an encouraging 
 smile induced her to enter, and depositing a brown pa- 
 pouse (Indian for baby or little child) on the ground, she 
 gazed round with curiosity and delight in her eyes. 
 We offered her some tea and bread, motionins: to her to 
 take a vanmt seat beside the table. She seemed pleased 
 by the invitation, and drawing her little one to her knee, 
 
ItARTER WITH THE iNDIANS. 
 
 Vi* 
 
 poured some tea into the saucer and gave it to tlio child 
 to drink. She ate very moderately, and when slie had 
 finished, rose, and, wrapping her face in tiie folds of her 
 blanket, bent down her head on her breast in the attitude 
 of prayer. This little act of devotion was iKM-formed 
 without the slightest appearance of pharisaical display, 
 but in singleness and simplicity of heart. She then 
 thanked us with a face beaming with smiles and good 
 humour ; and, taking little llachel by the hands, threw 
 her over her shoulder with a peculiar sleight that I 
 feared would dislocate the tender thing's arms, but the 
 j)apouse seemed well satisfied with this mode of treatment. 
 
 In long journeys the children are placed in upright 
 baskets of a peculiar form, which are fastened rotnid the 
 necks of the mothers by straps of deer-skin ; but the 
 young infant is swathed to a sort of flat cradle, secured 
 with flexible hoops, to prevent it from falling out. To 
 these machines they are strapped, so as to be unable to 
 move a limb. Much finery is often displayed in the 
 outer covering and the bandages that confine the paj)ouse. 
 
 There is a sling attached to this cradle that passes over 
 the squaw's neck, the back of the babe being placed to 
 the back of the mother, and its face outward. The first 
 thnig a squaw does on entering a house is to release 
 herself from her burden, and stick it up against the wall 
 or chair, chest, or any thing that will support it, where 
 the passive prisoner stands, looking not unlike a mummy 
 in its case. I have seen the picture of the Virgin and 
 Child in some of the old illuminated missals, not milike 
 tlie figure of a papouse in swaddling clothes. 
 
 The squaws are most affectionate to their little ones. 
 Gentleness and good humour appear distinguishing traits 
 in the tempers of the female Indians ; whether this be 
 natural to their characters, the savage state, or the soften- 
 ing efiects of Christianity, I cannot determine. Certainly 
 in no instance does the Christian religion appear more 
 lovely than when, untainted by the doubts and infidelity 
 of modern sceptics, it is displayed in the conduct of the 
 reclaimed Indian breaking down the strongholds of 
 idolatry and natural evil, and bringing forth the frui^5 of 
 
 G 2 
 
 
MlK'^ 
 
 '» 
 
 i r. } 
 
 I' I! ■! 
 
 1 t f 
 
 1 = i 
 
 . « 
 
 ♦•;r 
 
 . 
 
 
 i1' 
 
 •m 
 
 if/'' 
 
 .» ' 
 
 T 
 
 
 
 ■[ \ 
 
 t 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 » 
 
 
 ! 
 
 • 
 
 ," 
 
 1 
 i 
 1 
 
 128 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANAUA. 
 
 ■I 4. 
 
 
 
 '■'i' 
 
 I' 
 
 
 .••^ 
 
 51 i 
 1 : 
 
 holiness ami nioralitv. Tliey may be said to receive the 
 truths of tho (lospt'l as little children, with simplicity of 
 heart and unclouded faith. 
 
 The squaws are very ingenious in many of their hand!- 
 works. We find their birch-bark baskets very conve- 
 nient for a number of purjx)8es. My bread-basket, knife- 
 tray, su^ar-basket, arc all of this humble material. When 
 ornamented and wrought in patterns with dyed quills, I 
 can assure you, they are by no means inelegant. They 
 manufacture vessels of birch bark so well, that they will 
 serve for many useful household purposes, such as holdinc: 
 water, nuik, broth, or any other liquid ; they are sewn 
 or rather stitched together with the tough roots of the 
 tamarack or larch, or else with strips of cedar-bark. 
 They also weave very useful sorts of baskets from the 
 inner rind of the bass-wood and white ash. Some of 
 these baskets, of a coarse kind, are made use of for 
 gathering up potatoes, Indian corn, or turnips ; the 
 settlers finding them very good substitutes for the osier 
 baskets used for such purposes in the old country. 
 
 The Indians are acquainted with a variety of dyes, 
 with which they stain the more elegant fancy baskets 
 and porcupine quills. Our parlour is ornamented with 
 several very pretty specimens of their ingenuity in this 
 way, which answer the purpose of note and letter cases, 
 flower-stands, and work-baskets. 
 
 They appear to value the useful rather more highly 
 than the merely ornamental articles that you may exhibit 
 to them. They are very shrewd and close in all their 
 bargains, and exhibit a surprising degree of caution in 
 their dealings. The men are much less difficult to trade 
 with than the women : they display a singular pertina- 
 city in some instances. If they fix their mind on any 
 one article, they will come to you day after day, refusing 
 any other you may offer to their notice. One of the 
 squaws fell in love with a gay chintz dressing-gown be- 
 longing to my husband, and though I resolutely refused 
 to part with it, all the squaws in the wigwam by turns 
 came to look at " gown," which they pronounced 
 with their peculiarly plaintive tone of voice : and when 
 
receive the 
 iimplicity of 
 
 their handi. 
 /cry conve- 
 siskct, kni fe- 
 rial. When 
 red quills, I 
 ant. They 
 at they will 
 h as holdine 
 'y are sewn 
 roots of the 
 
 cedar-bark, 
 ts from the 
 I. Some of 
 
 use of for 
 
 urnips 
 
 the 
 
 for the osier 
 ntry. 
 
 ty of dyes, 
 
 ncy baskets 
 
 nented with 
 
 uity in this 
 
 etter cases, 
 
 Tiore highly 
 
 may exhibit 
 
 in all their 
 
 caution in 
 jult to trade 
 ar pertiiia- 
 lind on any 
 ay, refusing 
 One of the 
 g-gown be- 
 tely refused 
 m by turns 
 pronounced 
 
 and MvbcQ 
 
 INDIAN MANrFACTUBM. 
 
 129 
 
 1 gaid ** No prown to sell," they uttered a melancholy cx- 
 claination of rrprct, and went away. 
 
 Tiiey will seldom make any article you want on pur- 
 pose for you. If you express a desire to have baskets of 
 ;i particular pattern that they do not happen to have 
 ready-made by them, they ^ivc you the usual vague 
 reply of " by-and-by." If the goods you otter them in 
 oxchanpe tor theirs do not answer their expt^etations, 
 they give a sullen and donfircd look, or reply " Car-car " 
 (no, no), or '' Carwinm,'* which is a still more forcible 
 negative. But when the bargain pleases them, they 
 signify their approbation by several alhrmative nods of 
 the head, and a note not much unlike a grunt : the ducks, 
 fish, venison, or baskets, are placed beside you, and the 
 articles of exchange transferred to the folds of their ca- 
 pacious blankets, or dej)osited in a sort of rushen wallets, 
 not unlike those straw baskets in which English carpen- 
 ters carry their tools. 
 
 The women imitate the dresses of the whites, and are 
 rather skilful in converting their purchases. Many of 
 the young girls can sew very neatly. I often give them 
 bits of silk and velvet, and braid, for which they aj)pcar 
 very thankful. 
 
 I am just now very busy with my garden. Some of 
 our vegetable seeds are in the ground, though I am told 
 we have been premature ; there being ten chances to one 
 but the young plants will be cut otf by the late frosts, 
 which are often felt through May, and even the begin- 
 ning of June. 
 
 Our garden at present has nothing to boast of, being 
 merely a spot of ground enclosed with a rough unsightly 
 fence of split rails to keep the cattle from destroying the 
 vegetables. Another spring, I hope to have a nice 
 fence, and a portion of the ground devoted to flowers. 
 This spring there is so much pressing work to be done 
 on the land in clearing for the crops, that I do not like 
 to urge my claims on behiUof a pretty garden. 
 
 The forest-trees are nearly all in leaf. Never did 
 spring burst forth with greater rapidity than it has done 
 this vear. The verdure of the leaves is most vivid. A 
 
:i •■•!■' 
 
 ,1 
 
 ''■mi^^'i 
 
 r 
 
 ■ .4. n 
 
 '■ ^' 
 
 V: 
 
 Jf'l 
 
 ':i 
 
 
 ■• t 
 
 >• .-t 
 
 i • 
 
 , 1 
 
 130 
 
 BACKWOODS OP CANADA. 
 
 A thousand lovely flowers are expanded in the woods and 
 clcarinjrs. Nor are our Canadian songsters mute : the 
 cheerful melody of the robin, the bugle-song of the 
 blackbird and thrush, with the weak but not unpleasing 
 call of the little bird called Thitabebec^ and a wren, whose 
 note is sweec and thrilling, fill our woods. 
 
 For my part, I see no reason or wisdom in carping at 
 the good we do possess, because it lacks something of that 
 which we formerly enjoyed. I am aware it is the fashion 
 for travellers to assert that our feathered tribes are either 
 mute or give utterance to discordant cries that pierce the 
 ear, and disgust rather than please. It would be untrue 
 were I to assert that our singing birds were as numerous 
 or as melodious on the whole as those of Europe ; but I 
 must not suffer prejudice to rob my adopted country of her 
 rights without one word being spoken in behalf of her 
 feathered vocalists. Nay, I consider her very frogs have 
 been belied ; if it were not for the monotony of their 
 notes, I really consider they are not quite unmusical. 
 The green frogs are very handsome, being marked over 
 with brown oval shields on the most vivid green coat : 
 they are larger in size than the biggest of our English 
 frogs, and certainly much handsomer in every respect. 
 Their note resembles that of a bird, and has nothing of 
 the creek in it. 
 
 The bull-frogs are very different from the green frogs. 
 Instead of being angry with their comical notes, I can 
 hardly refrain from laughing when a great fellow pops up 
 his broad brown head I'rom the margin of the water, and 
 says, " WilliroOf williroo, williroo" to which another 
 bull-frog, from a distant part of the swamp, replies, in 
 hoarser accents, " Get outy get out, get out;" and pre- 
 sently a sudden chorus is heard of old and young, as it' 
 each party was desirous of out-croaking the other. 
 
 In my next I shall give you an account of my logging- 
 bee, which will take place the latter end of this month. 
 I feel some anxiety respecting the burning of the log- 
 heaps on the fallow round the house, as it appears to nic 
 rather a hazardous matter. 
 
 1 shall write again very shortly. Farewell, dearest of 
 friends. 
 
INFOHAIATIOX fob £MIGBA>TS. 
 
 131 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 L£TT£B XI. 
 
 Emigrants suitable for Canada.— Qualities requisite to en- 
 sure success. — Investment of Capital. — Useful Articles to 
 be brought out. — Qualities and Occupations of a Settler's 
 Family. — Deficiency of Patience and Energy in some 
 Females. — Management of the Dairy. — Cheese. — Indian 
 Com and its Cultivation. — Potatoes.— Rates of Wages. 
 
 August 2, 1833. 
 
 With respect to the various questions, my dear friend, to 
 which you request my particular attention, I can only 
 promise that I will do my best to answer them as explicitly 
 as possible, though at the same time I must remind you, 
 that brevity in epistolary correspondence is not one of my 
 excellences. If 1 become too diffiise in describing mere 
 matters of fact, you must bear with mine infirmity, and 
 attribute it to my womanly propensity of over-nmch 
 talking ; so, for your comfort, if your eyes be wearied, 
 your ears will at least escape. 
 
 I shall take your queries in due rotation ; first, then, 
 you ask, *' Who are the persons beist adapted for bush- 
 settlers ?" 
 
 To which I reply without hesitation — the poor hard- 
 working sober labourers, who have industrious habits, a 
 large family to provide for, and a laudable horror of the 
 workhouse and parish-overseers : this will bear them 
 through the hardships and privations of a first settlement 
 in the backwoods ; and in due time they will realize an 
 honest independence, and be above want, though not 
 work. Artisans of all crafts arc better paid in village 
 towns, or long-cleared districts, than as mere bush- 
 settlers. 
 
PIP? 
 
 
 '•* ' ■; ■ ■ 
 
 
 ■ ')' 
 
 l"\ 
 
 iin; 
 
 4*>*' . I , 
 
 
 m 
 
 t • 
 
 
 I . 
 
 ■^■/; ;|i| 
 
 ||p ■-''■""■;! 
 
 1'"" '^ 
 
 
 tU-\i''f 
 
 132 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 *' Who are the next best suited for emigration ?'* 
 
 Men of moderate income or good capital may make 
 money in Canada. If they have judgment, and can 
 afi'ord to purchase on a large scale, they will double or 
 treble their capital by judicious purchases and sale. But 
 it would be easier for me to point out who are not fit for 
 emigration than who are. 
 
 The poor gentleman of delicate and refined habits, 
 who cannot afford to employ all the labour requisite to 
 carry on the business of clearing on a tolerably largo 
 scale, and is unwilling or incapable of working himself, 
 is not fitted for Canada, especially if his habits are ex- 
 pensive. Even the man of small income, unless he can 
 condescend to take in hand the axe or the chopper, will 
 find, even with prudent and economical habits, much 
 difficulty in keeping free from debt for the lirst two or 
 even three years. Many such have succeedtiU, but tiie 
 struggle has been severe. 
 
 But there is another class of persons most unsuited to 
 the woods : these are the wives and families of those who 
 have once been opulent tradesmen, accustomed to the 
 daily enjoyment of every luxury that money could pro- 
 cure or fashion invent : whose ideas of happiness are 
 connected with a round of amusements, company, and all 
 the novelties of dress and pleasure that the gay world 
 can offer. Young ladies who have been brought up at 
 fashionable boarding-schools, with a contempt of every 
 thing useful or economical, make very indifterent settlers' 
 wives. Nothing can be more unfortunate than the 
 situations in the woods of Canada of persons so educated : 
 disgusted with the unpleasant change in their mode of 
 life, wearied and discontented with all the objects around 
 them, they find every exertion a trouble, and every oc- 
 cupation a degradation. 
 
 For persons of this description (and there are such to 
 be met with in the colonies), Canada is the worst country 
 in the world. And I would urge any one, so unfitted by 
 habit and inclination, under no consideration to cross the 
 Atlantic ; for miserable, and poor, and wretched they 
 will become. 
 
INFORMA-^ION FOR EMIGRANTS. 
 
 133 
 
 The emigrant, if he would succeed in this country, 
 must possess the following qualities : perseverance, pa- 
 tience, industry, ingenuity, moderation, self-denial ; and 
 if he be a gentleman, a small income is almost indis- 
 pensable ; a good one is still more desirable. 
 
 The outlay for buying and clearing land, building, 
 buying stock, and maintaining a family, paying servants* 
 wages, with many other unavoidable expenses, cannot be 
 done without some pecuniary means ; and as the return 
 from the land is but little for the first two or three years, 
 it would be advisable for a settler to bring out some hun- 
 dreds to enable him to carry on the farm and clear the 
 above-mentioned expenses, or he will soon find himself 
 involved in great di3iculties. 
 
 Now, to you third query, " What will be the most 
 profitable way of employing money, if a settler brought 
 out capital more than was required for his own expen- 
 diture ?" 
 
 On this head, I am not of course competent to give 
 advice. My husband and friends, conversant with the 
 affairs of the colonies, say, lend it on mortgage, on good 
 landed securities, and at a high rate of interest. The 
 purchase of land is often a good speculation, but not 
 always so certain as mortgage, as it pays no interest ; and 
 though it may at some future time make great returns, it 
 is not always so easy to dispose of it to an advantage 
 when you happen to need it. A man possessing many 
 thousand acres in different townships, may be distressed 
 for twenty pounds if suddenly called upon for it when he 
 is unprepared, if he invests all his capital in property of 
 this kind. 
 
 It would be difficult for me to enumerate the many 
 opportunities of turning ready money to account. There 
 is so little money in circulation, that those persons who are 
 fortunate enough to have it at command can do almost 
 any thing with it they please. 
 
 *' What are the most useful articles for a settler to 
 bring out?" 
 
 Tools ; a good stock of wearing apparel and shoes ; good 
 bedding, especially warm blankets ; as you pay high for 
 
 g3 
 
T 
 
 i|^W^ 
 
 .11 
 
 ' ' ■ 
 
 j 4': . 
 
 1 . Vr" 
 
 : 'j, • 
 
 '' \ V 
 
 
 ■ "■ ; >t ' 
 
 
 '■ i 
 
 f 
 
 ' h 
 
 r" 
 
 :■.■■ 1, 
 
 X.. 
 
 * «,;; 
 
 tH' 
 
 
 » < ' 
 
 
 ...:."v' 
 
 134 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 them here, and they are not so good as you would supply 
 yourself with at a much lower rate at home. A selec- 
 tion of good garden-seeds, as those you buy at the stores 
 are sad trash ; moreover, they are pasted up in 
 packets not to be opened till paid for, and you may, as 
 we have done, pay for little better than chaff and empty 
 husks, or old and worm-eaten seeds. This, 1 am sorry 
 to say, is a Yankee trick ; though I doubt not but John 
 Bull would do the same if he had the opportunity, as 
 tliere are rogues in all countries under the sun. 
 
 With respect to furniture and heavy goods of any kind, 
 I would recommend little to be brought. Articles of 
 hardware are not much more expensive here than at home, 
 if at all, and often of a kind more suitable to the country 
 than those you are at the trouble of bringing ; besides, 
 all land-carriage is dear. 
 
 We lost a large package of tools that have never been 
 recovered from the forwarders, though their carriage 
 was paid beforehand to Prescott. It is safest and best to 
 enaure your goods, when the forwarders are accountable 
 for them. 
 
 You ask, ** If groceries and articles of household con- 
 sumption are dear or cheap ?" 
 
 They vary according to circumstances and situation. 
 In towns situated in old cleared parts of the country, 
 and near the rivers and navigable waters, they are cheaper 
 than at home ; but in newly settled townships, where 
 the water-communication is distant, and where the roads 
 are bad, and the transport of goods difficult, they are 
 nearly double the price. Where the sup[)ly of produce 
 is inadequate to the demand, owing to the influx of emi- 
 grants in thinly settled places, or other causes, then all 
 articles of provisions are sold at a high price, and not to 
 be procured without difficulty ; but these are merely 
 temporary evils, which soon cease. 
 
 Competition is lowering prices in Canadian towns, as 
 it does in British ones, and you may now buy goods of 
 all kinds nearly as cheap as in England. Where prices 
 depend on local circumstances, it is impossible to give 
 any just standard ; as what may do for one town would not 
 
QUALIFICATIONS OF A SETTLER S WIFE. 
 
 1S5 
 
 for another, and a continual change is going on in all the 
 unsettled or half-settled townships. In like manner the 
 prices of cattle vary : they are cheaper in old settled 
 townships, and still more so on the American side the 
 river or lakes, than in the Canadas.* 
 
 *' What are necessary qualifications of a settler's wife ; 
 and the usual occupations of the female part of a settler's 
 family ?" are your next questions. 
 
 To the first clause, I reply, a settler's wife should be 
 active, industrious, ingenious, cheerful, not above putting 
 her hand to whatever is necessary to be done in her 
 household, nor too proud to profit by the advice and 
 experience of older portions of the community, from 
 whom she may learn many excellent lessons of prac- 
 tical wisdom. 
 
 Like that pattern of all good housewives described by 
 the prudent mother of King Lemuel, it should be said 
 of the emigrant's wife, "She layeth her hands to the 
 spindle, and her hands hold the distaff." *' She seeketh 
 wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands." 
 *' She looketh well to the ways of her household, and 
 eateth not the bread of idleness." 
 
 Nothing argues a greater degree of good sense and 
 good feeling than a cheerful conformity to circumstances, 
 adverse though they be compared with a former lot; 
 surely none that felt as they ought to feel, would ever 
 despise a woman, however delicately brought up, for 
 doing her duty in the state of life unto which it rnay 
 have pleased God to call her. Since I came to this 
 
 ♦ The duties on goods imported to the Canadas are ex- 
 ceedingly small, which will explain the circumstance of 
 many articles of consumption being cheaper in places where 
 there are facilities of transit than at home ; while in the 
 Backwoods, where roads are scarcely yet formed, there must 
 be taken into the account the cost of carriage, and increased 
 number of agents ; the greater value of capital, and conse- 
 quent increased rate of local profit, &c. — items which will 
 diminish in amount as the country becomes settled and 
 cleared. — Ed. 
 
 
 
 ■( 
 
 ( 
 
 

 136 
 
 BACKWOODS OP CANADA. 
 
 'V *' < '^'i 
 
 it 
 
 if 
 
 
 
 
 
 '■.« 
 
 
 3t 
 
 
 :Jy^i. 
 
 .I'll 
 ".I 
 
 li 
 
 i -t 't^ 
 
 !'?! 
 
 ■■Vl 
 
 iMi 
 
 
 country, I have seen the accomplished daughters and 
 wives of men holding no inconsiderable rank as officers, 
 both naval and military, milking their own cows, making 
 their own butter, and performing tasks of household 
 work that few of our farmers' wives would now con- 
 descend to take part in. Instead of despising these 
 useful arts, an emigrant's family rather pride themselves 
 on their skill in these matters. The less silly i^nde and 
 the more practical knowledge the female emigrant 
 brings out with her, so much greater is the chance for 
 domestic happiness and prosperity. 
 
 I am sorry to observe, that in many cases the women 
 that come hither give way to melancholy regrets, and 
 destroy the harmony of their fire-side, and deaden the 
 energies of their husbands and brothers by constant and 
 useless repining. Having once made up their minds to 
 follow their husbands or friends to this country, it would 
 be wiser and better to conform with a good grace, and 
 do their part to make the burden of emigration more 
 bearable. 
 
 One poor woman that was lamenting the miseries of 
 this country was obliged to acknowledge that her pros- 
 pects were far better than they ever had or could have 
 been at home. What, then, was the cause of her con- 
 tinual regrets and discontent ? I could hardly forbear 
 smiling, when she replied, *' She could not go to shop of 
 a Saturday night to lay out her husband's earnings, and 
 have a little chat with her naibors, while the shopman 
 was serving the customers,— ^r why? there were no 
 shops in the bush, and she was just dead-alive. If Mrs. 
 Such-a-one (with whom, by the way, she was always 
 quarrelling when they lived under the same roof) was 
 near her she might not feel quite so lonesome." And 
 so for the sake of a dish of gossip, while lolling her 
 elbows on the counter of a village-shop, this foolish 
 woman would have foregone the advantages, real solid 
 advantages, of having land and cattle, and poultry and 
 food, and firing and clothing, and all for a few years 
 hard work, which, her husband wisely observed, must 
 have been exerted at home, with no other end in view 
 
DEnCIENCT OP PATIENCE IN SOME TEMALES. 137 
 
 than an old age of poverty or a refuge from starvation in 
 a parish workhouse. 
 
 The female of the middling or better class, in her 
 turn, pines for the society of the circle of friends she 
 has quitted, probably for ever. She sighs for those little 
 domestic comforts, that display of the refinements and 
 elegancies of life, that she had been accustomed to see 
 around her. She has little time now for thoso pursuits 
 that were even her business as well as amusement. The 
 accomplishments she has now to acquire are of a different 
 order : she must become skilled in the arts of sugar-boil- 
 ing, candle and soap-making, the making and baking of 
 huge loaves, cooked in the bake-kettle, unless she be 
 the fortunate mistress of a stone or clay oven. She must 
 know how to manufacture hop-rising or salt-rising for 
 leavening her bread ; salting meat and fish, knitting 
 stockings and mittens and comforters, sjnnning yarn in 
 the big wheel (the French Canadian spinning-wheel), 
 and dyeing the yarn when spun to have manufactured 
 into cloth and coloured flannels, to clothe her husband 
 and children, making clothes for herself, her husband, 
 and children; — for there are no tailors nor mantua- 
 mcl.ers in the bush. 
 
 The management of poultry and the dairy must not 
 be omitted ; for in this country most persons adopt the 
 Irish and Scotch method, that of churning the milky a 
 practice that in our part of England was not known. For 
 my own part I am inclined to prefer the butter churned 
 from cream, as being most economical, unless you chance 
 to have Irish or Scotch servants who prefer buttermilk to 
 new or sweet skimmed milk. 
 
 There is something to be s?id in favour of both plans, 
 no doubt. The management of the calves differs here 
 very much. Some persons wean the calf from the 
 mother from its birth, never allowing it to suck at all : 
 the little creature is kept fasting the first twenty-four 
 hours; it is then fed with the finger with new milk, 
 which it soon learns to take readily. I have seen fine 
 cattle thus reared, and am disposed to adopt the plan as 
 the least troublesome one. 
 
i 
 
 I V- 
 
 r" 
 
 k,. 
 
 it ) 
 
 ■t 
 
 r 
 
 
 ■•■I 
 
 i^. 
 
 i;^ 
 
 
 -i; j M.; 
 
 
 
 
 11 !,.■''':!«' 
 
 
 !*.:^- 
 
 ;s»- 
 
 (i'ii i 
 
 b' 
 
 'Ii| 
 
 I' 
 
 I; 
 i!' 
 >%\ 
 
 iii 
 
 I! 
 
 133 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 The old settlers pursue an opposite mode of treatment, 
 allowinsj: the calf to suck till it is nearly half a year old, 
 under the idea that it ensures the daily return of the 
 cow ; as, under ordinary circumstances, she is apt to 
 ramble sometimes for days together, when the herbage 
 grows scarce in the woods near the homesteads, and you 
 not only lose the use of the milk, but often, from distcn- 
 tion of the udder, the cow is materially injured, at least 
 for the remainder of the milking season. I am disposed 
 to think that were care taken to give the cattle regular 
 supplies of salt, and a small portion of food, if ever so 
 little, near the milking- place, they would seldom stay 
 long away. A few refuse potatoes, the leaves of the 
 garden vegetables daily in use, set aside for them, with 
 the green shoots of the Indian corn that are stripped off 
 to strengthen the plant, will ensure their attendance. In 
 the fall and winter, pumpkins, corn, straw, and any other 
 fodder you may have, with the browse they get during 
 the chopping and underbrushing season, will keep them 
 well. 
 
 The weanling calves should be given skimmed milk or 
 buttermilk, with the leafy boughs of bass-wood and 
 maple, of which they are extremely fond. A warm shed 
 or fenced yard is very necessary for the cattle during the 
 intense winter frosts : this is too often disregarded, espe- 
 cially in new settlements, which is the cause that many 
 persons have the mortification of losing their stock, either 
 from disease or cold. Naturally the Canadian cattle are 
 very hardy, and when taken moderate care of, endure 
 the severest winters well ; but owing to the difficulties 
 that attend a first settlement in the bush, they suffer 
 every privation of cold and hunger, which brings on a 
 complaint generally fatal, called the ^^ hollow hornf 
 this originates in the spine, or extends to it, and is cured 
 or palliated by boring the horn and inserting turpentine, 
 pepper, or other heating substances. 
 
 When a new comer has not winter food for his cattle, 
 it is wise to sell them in the fall and buy others in the 
 spring : though at a seeming loss, it is perhaps less loss 
 in reality than losing the cattle altogether. This was 
 
CULTIVATION OF INDIAN CORN. 
 
 139 
 
 the plan my husband adopted, and wc found it decidedly 
 the better one, besides saving much care, trouble, and 
 vexation. 
 
 I have seen some good s})ecimens of native cheese, 
 that I thoiight very respectable, considering that the 
 (pass is by no means equal to our British pastures. I 
 purpose trying my skill next summer : who knows but 
 that I may inspire some Canadian bard to celebrate the 
 produce of my dairy as Bloomfield did the Suffolk 
 cheese, yclept ** Bang." You remember the passage, — 
 for Bloomfield is your countryman as well as mine, — it 
 begins ; — 
 
 " Unrivalled stands thy county cheese, Giles,** &c. 
 
 I have dwelt on the dairy information ; as I know you 
 were desirous of imparting all you could collect to your 
 friends. 
 
 You wish to know something of the culture of Indian 
 corn, and if it is a useful and profitable crop. 
 
 The cultivation of Indian corn on newly cleared lands 
 is very easy, and attended with but little labour ; on old 
 farms it requires more. The earth is just raised with a 
 broad hoe, and three or four corns dropped in with a 
 pumpkin-seed, in about every third or fourth hole, and 
 in every alternate row; the seed are set several feet 
 apart. The pumpkins and the corn grow very amicably 
 together, the broad leaves of the former shading the 
 young plants and preventing the too great evaporation of 
 the moisture from the ground ; the roots strike little way, 
 so that they rob the corn of a very small portion of nour- 
 ishment. The one crop trails to an amazing length 
 along the ground, while the other shoots up to the height 
 of several feet above it. When the corn is beginning to 
 branch, the ground should be hoed once over, to draw 
 the earth a little to the roots, and cut down any weeds 
 that might injure it. This is all that is done till the cob 
 is beginning to form, when the blind and weak shoots 
 are broken off, leaving four or five of the finest bearing 
 shoots. The feather, when it begins to turn brown and 
 
 
 i i 
 
 
I '^uj • ' : 
 
 ■I. ' 
 
 m 
 
 140 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 "^' 
 
 ^m^^ 
 
 » 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 '' 
 
 
 : 1 
 
 > 
 
 '<• 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 Vi 
 
 1 
 
 , ■ 1 
 
 
 
 it'- . ^ 
 
 . (''1? ■ . , \ 
 
 ]p- •■ '^ 
 
 
 jii 
 
 
 .. ^t, 
 
 f. jtr; 
 
 **,^ 
 
 1 M 
 
 
 
 i|if:.::rilr'^jjil| 
 
 .;*'^i^' 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 4 
 
 dead, should also be taken off, that the plant may have 
 all the nourishment to the corn. 
 
 We had a remarkable instance of smut in our corn last 
 summer. The diseased cobs had larp:e white bladders 
 as big as a small puff-ball, or very larpre nuts, and these 
 on being broken were full of an mky black liquid. On 
 the same plants might be observed a sort of false fructifi- 
 cation, the cob being deficient in kernels, which by 
 some strange accident were transposed to the top feather 
 or male blossoms. I leave botanists to explain the cause 
 of this singular anomaly ; I only state facts. I could 
 not learn that the smut was a disease common to Indian 
 corn, but last year smut, or dust bran, as it is called by 
 some, was very prevalent in the oat, barley, and wheat 
 crops. In this country especially, new lands are very 
 subject to the disease. 
 
 The ripe com is either shocked as beans are at home, 
 or the cobs pulled and braided on ropes after the man- 
 
 ner of onions, and 
 
 hung over 
 
 oolos or beams in the 
 
 granaries or barns. The stripping of the corn gives rise 
 among some people to what they call a husking-bee, 
 which, like all the other bees, is one of Yankee origin, 
 and is not now so frequently adopted among the more 
 independent or better class of settlers. 
 
 The Indian corn is a tender and somewhat precarious 
 crop : it is liable to injury from the late frosts while 
 young, for which reason it is never put in before the 
 20th of May, or beginning of June, and even then it 
 will suffer ; it has also many enemies —bears, racoons, 
 squirrels, mice, and birds ; and is a great temptation to 
 breachy cattle, who, to come at it, will even toss down a 
 fence with stakes and riders for protection, i. e. a pole or 
 <;ross~bar, supported between crossed stakes, that sur- 
 mounts the zig-zag rail fences, for better securing them 
 from the incursions of cattle. 
 
 Even in Canada this crop requires a hot summer to 
 ripen it perfectly ; which makes me think Mr. Cobbett 
 was deceiving the English farmer when he recommended 
 it as a profitable croj) in England. Profitable and highly 
 useful it is under every disadvantage, as it makes the 
 
BATES OF WAGES. 
 
 141 
 
 rs, racoons. 
 
 •ichest and sweetest food for all kinds of granivorous 
 animals, even in its green state, and atlbrds sound «>ood 
 food when rijie, or even partially ripe, lor i'attening 
 beasts and working oxen. 
 
 Last summer was very favourable, and the crops were 
 abundant, but owing to the failure of the two preceding 
 ones, fewer settlers grew it. Our small patcli turned out 
 very good. The flour makes a substantial sort of por- 
 ridge, called by the Americans ^^ Supporne ;'' this is 
 made with water, and eaten with milk, or else mixed 
 with milk ; it requires long boiling. Bread is seldom if 
 over made without a large portion of wheaten flour 
 mixed with the corn meal.* 
 
 With respect to the culture of other grain, I can tell 
 you nothing but what every booli that treats on emi- 
 gration will give you. The potato, instead of being 
 sown in drills, is planted in hills, which are raised over 
 the sets : this crop requires hoeing. 
 
 With respect to the usual rate of wages, this also 
 differs a/^cording to the populousness of the place : but 
 the common wages now given to an active able man ar? 
 from eight to eleven dollars per month ; ten is perhaps 
 the general average ; from four to six for lads, and three 
 and four for female servants. You may get a little girl, 
 say from nine to twelve years, for her board and cloth- 
 ing ; but this is iiar from a saving plan, as they soon 
 wear out clothes and shoes thus bestowed. I have once 
 tried this way, but found myself badly served, and a 
 greater loser than if I had given wages. A big girl 
 will go out to service for two or two and a half dollars 
 per month, and will work in the fields also if required, 
 binding after the reapers, planting and hoeing corn and 
 potatoes. I have a very good girl, the daughter of a 
 Wiltshire emigrant, who is neat and clever, and respect- 
 ful and industrious, to whom I give three dollars only : 
 she is a happy specimen of the lower order of English 
 emigrants, and her family are quite acquisitions to the 
 township in which they live. 
 
 * See note E. 
 
'1 
 
 p 
 
 
 "i 
 • 
 
 Ik 
 
 ■ 1 
 ■1 
 
 
 142 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 I think I have now answered all your queries to the 
 best of my ability ; but I would have you bear in mind 
 that my knowledge is confined to a small portion of the 
 townships along the Otanabeo lakes, therefore my in- 
 formation after all may be but local ; things may diHi'r 
 and do differ in other parts of the province, thougli 
 possibly liot very materially. 
 
 I must now say farewell. Should you ever feel 
 tempted to try your fortune on this side the Atlantic, let 
 me assure you of a warm welcome to our Canadian 
 home, from your sincerely attached friend. 
 
 
 
 n 
 
 
 l!i 
 
LOGGING-UEE. 
 
 143 
 
 Lettkr XII. 
 
 "A Logging Bee."" — Burning of the Log-heaps. — Crops for 
 the Season. — Farming Stock. — Comparative Value of 
 Wheat and Labour. — Choice of Laud and rehitive Advan- 
 tages. — Clearing Land. — Hurricane in the Woods. — 
 Variable Weather. — Insects. 
 
 November the 2nd, 1833. 
 
 Many thanks, dearest mother, for the contents of the 
 box which arrived in August. I was charmed with the 
 pretty caps and worked frocks <=!ent for my baby ; tlie 
 little fellow looks delightfull} lu his new robes, and I 
 can almost fancy is conscious of the accession to his 
 wardrobe, so proud he seems of his dress. He grows 
 fat and lively, and, as you may easily suppose, is at once 
 the y)ride and delight of his foolish mother's heart. 
 
 His father, who loves him as much as I do myself, 
 ot'ren laughs at my fondness, and asks me if I do not 
 think him the ninth wonder of the world. He has 
 titted up a sort of rude carriage on the hand-sleigh for 
 the little fellow — nothing better than a tea-chest, lined 
 with a black bear-skin, and in this humble equipage he 
 enjoys many a pleasant ride over the frozen ground. 
 
 Nothing could have happened more opportunely for 
 us than the acquisition of my uncle's legacy, as it has 
 enabled us to make some useful additions to our farm, 
 for which we must have waited a few years. We have 
 laid out a part of the property in purchasing a fine lot of 
 land adjoining our home lot. The quality of our new 
 purchase is excellent, and, from its situation, greatly en- 
 hances the value of the whole property. 
 
 We had a glorious burning this summer after the 
 ground was logged up; that is, all the large timbers 
 
fl 
 
 
 V 
 
 lit; 
 
 ' ' ' \ 
 
 
 
 ■' f 
 
 * f'^. 
 
 
 Mri^* 
 
 i^'' 
 
 
 !„1 
 
 I . 
 
 •'4 • I 
 
 I ,, 
 
 144 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 chopped into lengths, and drawn together in heaps with 
 oxen. To effect this the more readily we called a 
 logging-bee. We had a number of settlers attend, with 
 yokes of oxen and men to assist us. After that was 
 over, my husband, with the men-servants, set the 
 heaps on fire ; and a magnificent sight it was to see 
 such a conflagration all around us. I was a little 
 nervous at first on account of the nearness of some of 
 the log-heaps to the house, but care is always taken to 
 fire them with the wind blowing in a direction away 
 from the building. Accidents have somet'ines happened, 
 but they are of rarer occurrence than mig the expected, 
 when we consider the subtlety and destructiveness of 
 the element employed on the occasion. 
 
 If the weather be very dry, and a brisk wind blowing, 
 the work of destruction proceeds with astonishing ra- 
 pidity ; sometimes the fire will communicate with the 
 forest and run over many hundreds of acres. This is 
 not considered favourable for clearing, as it destroys the 
 underbush and light timbers, which are almost indispen- 
 sable for ensuring a good burning. It is, however, a 
 magnificent sight to see the blazing trees and watch the 
 awful progress of the conflagration, as it hurries onward, 
 consuming all before it, or leaving such scorching 
 mementoes as have blasted the forest growth for years. 
 
 When the ground is very dry the fire will run all over 
 the fallow, consuming the aried leaves, sticks, and roots. 
 Of a night the efiect is more evident ; sometimes the 
 wind blows particles of the burning fuel into the hollow 
 pines and tall decaying stumps ; these readily ignite, 
 and after a time present an appearance that is exceed- 
 ingly fine and fanciful. Fiery columns, the bases of 
 which are hidden by the dense smoke wreaths, are to 
 be seen in every direction, sending up showers of sparks 
 that are whirled about like rockets and fire-wheels in 
 the wind, uome of these tail stumps, when the fire has 
 reached the summit, look like gas lamp-posts newly lit. 
 The fire will sometimes continue unextinguished for 
 flays. 
 
 After the burning is over the brands are collected and 
 drawn together again to be reburnt ; and, strange as it 
 
 n.i'^r- 
 
 I '< 
 
• in heaps with 
 we called a 
 ^s attend, with 
 After that was 
 mts, set the 
 it was to see 
 was a little 
 ess of some of 
 ways taken to 
 li^cction away 
 nos happened, 
 t be expected, 
 ructiveness of 
 
 vind blowing, 
 stonishing ra- 
 jate with the 
 res. This is 
 t destroys the 
 lost indispen- 
 , however, a 
 nd watch the 
 rries onward, 
 h scorching 
 
 for years. 
 
 run all over 
 
 , and roots, 
 metimes the 
 o the hollow 
 adily ignite, 
 t is exceed- 
 he bases of 
 aths, are to 
 crs of sparks 
 re-wheels in 
 
 the fire has 
 ts newly lit. 
 iguished for 
 
 ollected and 
 strange as it 
 
 COMPAEATIVE VALUE OP WHEAT. 
 
 145 
 
 :s 
 
 may api)oar to you, there is no work that is more inter- 
 esting and exciting than that of tending the log-heaps, 
 rousing up the dying flames and closing them in, and 
 supplying the fires with fresh fuel. 
 
 There are always two burnings : first, the brush heaps, 
 which have lain during the w inter till the drying winds 
 and hot suns of April and May have rendered them sear, 
 are set fire to ; this is previous to forming the log-heaps. 
 If the season be dry, and a brisk wind abroad, much 
 of the lighter timber is consumed, and the larger trees 
 reduced during this first burning. After this is over, 
 the rest is chopped and logged up for the second burn- 
 ing : and lastly, the remnant« are collected and con- 
 sumed till the ground is perfectly free from all encum- 
 brances, excepting the standing stumps, which rarely 
 burnt out, and remain eye-sores for several years. The 
 ashes are then scattered abroad, and the field fenced 
 in with split timber : the great work of clearing is over. 
 Our crops this year are oats, corn and pumpkins, and 
 potatoes, with some turnips.* We shall have wheat, 
 nc, oats, potatoes, and com next harvest, which will 
 enable us to increase our stock. At present we have 
 only a yoke of oxen (Buck and Bright, the names of 
 three-fourths of all the working oxen in Canada), two 
 cows, two calves, three small pigs, ten hens, and three 
 ducks, and a pretty brown pony ; but she is such a skilful 
 clearer of seven-railed fences, that we shall be obliged to 
 part with her. Breach]/ cattle of any kind are great 
 disturbers of public tranquillity and private friendship ; 
 for which reason any settler who values the good will of 
 his neighbours would rather part with the best working 
 yoke of oxen in the township, than keep them if they 
 prove breach^. 
 
 A small farmer at home would think very poorly of 
 our Canadian possessions, especially when I add that our 
 whole stock of farming implements consists of two 
 reaping-hooks, several axes, a spade, and a couple of 
 hoes. Add to these a queer sort of harrow that is made 
 
 ♦ See note F. 
 
 *! 
 
f. i 
 
 146 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 ■ I ■ , i; 
 
 
 ■V 
 
 *i 
 
 1" '■ ; 
 
 viJl^-^, 1 
 
 ■„ . .1";.. I 
 
 ■4. 'I 
 
 ir*; 
 
 ■ r 
 
 
 in the shape of a triangle for the better passing between 
 the stumps : this is a rude machine compared with the 
 nicely painted instruments of the sort I have been accus- 
 tomed to see used in Britain. It is roughly hewn, and 
 put together without regard to neatness ; strength for 
 use is all that is looked to here. The plough is seldom 
 put into the land before the third or fourth year, nor is 
 it required ; the general plan of cropping the first 
 fallow with wheat or oats, and sowing grass-seeds with 
 the grain to make pastures, renders the plough unrie- 
 cessary till such time as the grass-lands require to be 
 broken up. This method is pursued by most settlers 
 while they are clearing bush-land ; always chopping 
 and burning enough to keep a regular succession of 
 wheat and spring crops, while the former clearings are 
 allowed to remain in grass. 
 
 The low price that is now given for grain of every 
 kind, wheat having fetched only from two shillings and 
 nine-pence to four shillings the bushel, makes the grow- 
 ing of it a matter of less importance than rearing and 
 fatting of stock. Wages bear no proportion to the price 
 of produce ; a labourer receives ten or eleven dollars 
 and board a month, while wheat is selling at only three 
 shillings, three shillings and six-pence, or four shillings, 
 and sometimes even still less. The returns are little 
 compared with the outlay on the land ; nor does the land 
 produce that great abundance that men are apt to look 
 for on newly cleared ground. The returns of produce, 
 however, must vary with the situation and fertility of 
 the soil, which is generally less productive in the imme- 
 diate vicinity of the lakes and rivers than a little farther 
 back from them, the land being either swampy or ridgy, 
 covered with pines and beset with blocks of limestone 
 and granite, the subsoil poor and sandy. 
 
 This is the case on the small lakes and on the banks 
 of the Otanabee ; the back lots are generally much finer 
 in quality, producing hard wood, such as bass-wood, 
 maple, hickory, butter-nut, oak, beach and iron-wood; 
 which trees always indicate a more productive soil than 
 the pine-tribe. 
 
CHOICE OF LAKD. 
 
 147 
 
 In spite of the indifference of the soil, the advantage 
 of a water frontage is considered a matter of great import- 
 ance in the purchasing of land ; and lots with water 
 privileges usually fetch a much higher price than those 
 farther removed from it. These lands are in general in 
 the possession of the higher class of settlers, who can 
 afford to pay something extra for a pretty situation, and 
 the prospect of future improvements when the country 
 shall be under a higher state of cultivation and more 
 thickly settled. 
 
 We cannot help regarding with infinite satisfaction 
 the few acres that are cleared round the house and 
 covered with crops. A space of this kind in the midst 
 of the dense forest imparts a cheerfulness to the mind, 
 of which those that live in an open country, or even a 
 partially wooded one, can form no idea. The bright 
 sunbeams and the blue and cloudless sky breaking in 
 upon you, rejoices the eye and cheers the heart as much 
 as th cool shade of a palm-grove would the weary 
 travt * V. ( ft the sandy wastes of Africa. 
 
 If «e feel this so sensibly who enjoy the opening of 
 a lake of full three-quarters of a mile in breadth directly 
 in front of our windows, what must those do whose 
 clearing is opened in the depths of the forest, hemmed 
 in on every side by a thick wall of trees, through 
 the interminable shades of which the eye vainly endea- 
 vours to penetrate in search of other objects and other 
 scenes ; but so dense is the growth of timber, that all 
 beyond the immediate clearing is wrapped in profound 
 obscurity. A settler on first locating on his lot knows 
 no more of its boundaries and its natural features than he 
 does of the North-west Passage. 
 
 Under such disadvantages it is ten chances to one if he 
 chooses the best situation on the land for the site of his 
 house. This is a very sufficient reason for not putting 
 up an expensive building till the land is sufficiently 
 cleared to allow its advantages and disadvantages to 
 }x?come evident. Many eligible spots often present 
 themselves to the eye of the settler, in clearing his land, 
 that cause him to regret having built before he could 
 

 148 
 
 BACKWOODS 07 CANADA. 
 
 
 lilill 
 
 obtain a better choice of ground. But circumstances 
 will seldom admit of delay in building in the bush ; ^ 
 dwelling must be raised speedily, and that generally on 
 the first cleared acre. The emigrant, however, looks for- 
 ward to some no very distant period when he shall be able 
 to gratify both his taste and love of comfort in the erectioa 
 of a handsomer and better habitation than his log-house 
 or his shanty, which he regards only in the light of a 
 temporary accommodation. 
 
 On first coming to this country nothing surprised me 
 more than the total absence of trees about the dwelling- 
 houses and cleared lands ; the axe of the chopper relent- 
 lessly levels all before him. Man appears to contend 
 with the trees of the forest as though they were his most 
 obnoxious enemies ; for iie spares neither the young* 
 sapling in its greenness nor the ancient trunk in its lofty 
 pride ; he wages war against the forest with fire and 
 steel. 
 
 There are several sufficient reasons to be given for 
 this seeming want of taste. The forest-trees grow so 
 thickly together that they have no room for expanding 
 and putting forth lateral branches ; on the contrary, they 
 run up to an amazing height of stem, resembling seed- 
 lings on a hotbed that have not been duly thinned out. 
 Trees of this growth when unsupported by others are 
 tall, weak, and entirely divested of those graces and 
 charms of outline and foliage that would make them 
 desirable as ornaments to our grounds ; but this is not 
 the most cogent reason for not leaving them, supposing 
 some more sightly than others were to be found. 
 
 Instead of striking deep roots in the earth, the forest- 
 trees, with the exception of the pines, have very super- 
 ficial hold in the earth ; the roots, running along the 
 surface, have no power to resist the wind when it bends 
 the tops, which thus acts as a powerful lever in tearing 
 them from their places. 
 
 The taller the tree the more liable it is to be up- 
 rooted by storms ; and if those that are hemmed in, as 
 in the thickly planted forests, fall, you may suppose the 
 certain fate of any isolated tree, deprived of its former 
 
CLEABING JjAXTD, 
 
 149 
 
 protectors, when left to brave and battle with the storm* 
 It is sure to fall, and may chance to injure any cattle 
 that are within its reach. This is the great reason why 
 trees are not left in the clearing. Indeed, it is a less 
 easy matter to spare them when chopping than I at first 
 imagined, but the fall of one tree frequently brings down 
 two, three, or even more smaller ones that stand near it. 
 A good chopper will endeavour to promote this as much 
 as possible by partly chopping through smaller ones in 
 the direction they purpose the larger one to fall. 
 
 I was so desirous of preserving a few pretty sapling 
 beech-trees that pleased me, that I desired the choppers 
 to spare them ; but the only one that was saved from 
 destruction m the chopping had to pass through a fiery 
 ordeal, which quickly scorched and withered up its gay 
 green leaves : it now stands a melancholy monument of 
 ♦he impossibility of preserving trees thus left. The 
 only thing to be done if you desire trees, is to plant 
 them while young in favourable situations, when they 
 take deep root and spread forth branches the same as the 
 trees in our parks and hedge rows. 
 
 Another plan which we mean to adopt on our land is, 
 to leave several acres of forest in a convenient situation, 
 and chop and draw out the old timbers for fire-wood, 
 leaving the younger growth for ornament. This method 
 of preserving a grove of trees is not liable to the objec- 
 tions formerly stated, and combines the useful with the 
 ornamental. 
 
 There is a strange excitement created in the mind 
 whilst watching the felling of one of the gigantic pines 
 or oaks of the forest. Proudly and immoveably it seems 
 at first to resist the storm of blows that assail its massy 
 trunk, from the united axes of three or even four chop- 
 pers. As the work of destruction continues, a slight 
 motion is perceived — an almost imperceptible quivering 
 of the boughs. Slowly and slowly it inclines, while the 
 loud rending of the trunk at length warns you that its 
 last hold on earth is gone. The axe of the chopper has 
 performed its duty ; the motion of the falling tree be- 
 comes accelerated every instant, till it comes down ia 
 
 i 
 
 i. 
 

 0Ml 
 
 \t'% ' •' ' '■ ' 
 
 m'M ■ 
 
 
 I ' ■ li. ^ !■■* , f 
 
 ft • 
 
 
 ;■■•■'■ f' 
 
 If If Si.. . 
 
 ■ 1 I"' 
 
 
 : ' »,!' 
 
 ,«?■!; :' 
 
 
 150 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 thunder on the plain, with a crash that makes the earth j 
 tremble, and the neighbouring trees reel and bow before it. 
 
 Though decidedly less windy than our British isles, 
 Canada is subject at times to sudden storms, nearly ap. I 
 proaching to what might be termed whirlwinds and 
 nurricanes. A description of one of these tempests I 
 gave you in an early letter. During the present sum- 
 mer I witnessed another hurricane, somewhat more| 
 violent and destructive in its effects. 
 
 The sky became suddenly overcast with clouds of a I 
 highly electric nature. The storm came from the north- 
 west, and its fury appeared to be confined within the 
 breadth of a few hundred yards. I was watching with 
 some degree of interest the rapid movements in the! 
 lurid, black, and copper-coloured clouds that were ca- 
 reering above the lake, when I was surprised by the I 
 report of trees falling on the opposite shore, and yet 
 more so by seeing the air filled with scattered remnants 
 of the pines within less than a hundred yards of the 
 house, while the wind was scarcely felt on the level | 
 ground on which I was standing. 
 
 In a few seconds the hurricane had swept over tliel 
 water, and with irresistible power laid low not less than 
 thirty or forty trees, bending others to the ground like| 
 reeds. It was an awful sight to see the tall forest rock- 
 ing and bowing before the fury of the storm, and withl 
 the great trunks falling one after the other, as if they had 
 been a pack of cards thrown down by a breath. Fortu- 
 nately for us the current of the wind merely passed over 
 our open clearing, doing us no further damage than 
 uprooting three big pine-trees on the ridge above the 
 
 lake. But in the direction of our neighbour it I 
 
 did great mischief, destroying many rods of fencing, and 
 crushing his crops with the prostrate trunks and scattered 
 boughs, occasioning great loss and much labour to repair 
 the mischief. 
 
 The upturned roots of trees thrown down by the wind 
 are great nuisance <^nd disfigurements in clearings, and 
 cause much more . ouble to remove than those that have 
 beea felled h:^ ^ne axe. Some of the stumps of these 
 
VABIAOLE WEATHES. 
 
 151 
 
 wind-fallen trees will right again if chopped from the 
 trunk soon after they have been blown down, the weight 
 of the roots and upturned soil being sufficient to bring 
 them back, into their former places j we have pursued 
 this plan very frequently. 
 
 We have experienced one of the most changeable 
 seasons this summer that was possible. The spring was 
 warm and pleasant, but f»'om the latter part ot May till 
 the middle of harve ^. lad heavy rains, cloudy skies, 
 with moist hot days, ant. requent teror^pcts of thunder 
 and lightning, most awfully grand, bu. oeemingly less 
 destructive than such storms are at home. Possibly the 
 tall forest-trees divert the danger from the low dwellings, 
 which are sufficiently sheltered from the etiect of the 
 lightning. The autumn has also proved wet and cold. 
 I must say at present I do not think very favourably of 
 the climate ; however, it is not right to judge by so short 
 an acquaintance with it, as every one says this summer 
 has been unlike any of its predecessors. 
 
 The insects have been a sad annoyance to us, and I 
 hailed the approach of the autumn as a respite from their 
 attacks ; for these pests are numerous and various, and 
 no respecters of nersons, as I have learned from sad 
 experience. 
 
 1 am longing for home-letters ; let me hear from you 
 soon. 
 
 Farewell, friends. 
 
 i! 
 
 I 
 
 fl2 
 

 
 VJV 
 
 152 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 i 
 
 
 "?-. 
 
 
 
 ^t^d--. ! 
 
 ..... »:; 
 
 
 
 'Hi'':' • 
 
 ii ;"1'^= 
 
 ''I: 
 
 ..r ■ 'i 
 
 
 
 •Mil ,| 7 ■ , '■ 
 
 Letteb XIII. 
 
 Health enjoyed in the rigour of Winter. — Inconvenience 
 suffered from the brightness of the Snow. — Sleighing.— 
 Indian Orthography. — Visit to an Indian Encampment.— 
 Story of an Indian. — An Indian Himchback. — Canadian 
 Ornithology* 
 
 Lake Cottage, March 14, 1834. 
 
 I RECEIVED your affectionate and interesting letter 
 only last night. Owing to an error in t! direction, it 
 had made the round of two townships before it reached 
 Peterborough ; and though it bore as many new direc- 
 tions as the sailor's knife did new blades and handles, it 
 did at last reach me, and was not less prized for its tra- 
 velling dress being somewhat the worse for wear. 
 
 I rejoiced to hear of your returning health and in- 
 creased happiness; — may they long continue. Your 
 expressions of regret for my exile, as you term my resi- 
 dence in this country, affected me greatly. Let the 
 assurance that I am not less happy than when I left my 
 native land console you for my absence. If my situa- 
 tion be changed, my heart is not. My spirits are as 
 light as ever, and at times I feel a gaiety that bids de- 
 fiance to all care. 
 
 You say you fear the rigours of the Canadian winter 
 will kill me. I never enjoyed better health, nor so 
 good, as since it commenced. There is a degree of 
 spirit and vigour infused into one's blood by the purity 
 of the air that is quite exhilarating. The very snow 
 seems whiter and more beautiful than it does in our 
 damp vapoury climate. During a keen bright winter's 
 day you will often perceive the air filled with minute 
 
1I£\LTU ENJOYKD IS \ViM£R. 
 
 153 
 
 frozen particles, which are quite dry, and slightly prick 
 vour face like needle-points, while the sky is blue and 
 bright above you. There is a decided difference be- 
 tween the first snow-falls and those of mid-winter ; tho 
 iirst are in large soft flakes, and seldom remain long 
 without thawing, but those that fall after the cold has 
 regularly set in are smaller, drier, and of the most beau- 
 tiful forms, sometimes pointed like a cluster of rays, or 
 else feathered in the most exquisite manner. 
 
 I find my eyes much inconvenienced by the dazzling 
 glitter of tlie snow on bright sunny days, so as to render 
 my sight extremely dull and indistinct for hours after 
 exposure to its power. I would strongly advise anyone 
 coming out to this country to provide themselves with 
 blue or green glasses ; and by no means to omit green 
 crape or green tissue veils. Poor Moses' gross of 
 green spectacles would not have proved so bad a spec, in 
 Canada.* 
 
 Some few nights ago, as I was returning from visiting a 
 sick friend, I was delighted by the eftect produced by 
 the frost. The earth, the trees, every stick, dried leaf, 
 and stone in my path was glittering with mimic 
 diamonds, as if touched by some magical power ; objects 
 the most rude and devoid of beauty had suddenly as- 
 sumed a brilliancy that was dazzling beyond the most 
 vivid fancy to conceive ; every frozen particle sent forth 
 rays of bright light. You might have imagined your- 
 self in Sinbad's valley of gems ; nor was the temperature 
 of the air at all unpleasantly cold. 
 
 I have often felt the sensation of cold on a windy day 
 in Britain far more severe than I have done in Canada, 
 when the mercury indicated a much lower degree ot 
 temperature. There is almost a trance-like stillness in 
 the air during our frosty nights, that lessens the un- 
 pleasantness of the sensation. 
 
 There are certainly some days of intense cold during 
 
 ; 
 
 * Oculists condemn coloured spectacles, as injuring weak 
 eyes by the heat which they occasion. Coloured gauze or 
 coloured shades are preferable. — £d. 
 

 It ml J"!^'v' 
 
 
 154 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 our winter, but this low temperature seldom continues 
 more than three days together. The coldest part of 
 the day is from an hour or two before sunrise to about 
 nine o'clock in the morning ; by that time our blazing 
 log-fires or metal stoves have warmed the house, so that 
 you really do not care for the cold without. When out 
 of doors you suffer less inconvenience than you would 
 imagine whilst you keep in motion, and are tolerably 
 well clothed : the cars and nose are the most exposed to 
 injury. 
 
 Gentlemen sometimes make a singular appearance 
 coming in from a long journey, that if it were not for 
 pity's sake would draw from you a smile ; — hair, whis- 
 kers, eyebrows, eyelashes, beard, all incrusted with 
 hoar-frost. I have seen young ladies going to evening 
 parties with clustering ringlets, as jetty as your own, 
 changed by the breath of Father Frost to silvery white- 
 ness ; so that you could almost fancy the fair damsels 
 had been suddenly metamorphosed to their ancient 
 grannies ; fortunately for youth and beauty such change 
 is but transitory. 
 
 In the towns and populous parts of the province the 
 approach of whiter is hailed with delight instead of 
 dread ; it is to all a season of leisure and enjoyment. 
 Travelling is then expeditiously and pleasantly per- 
 formed ; even our vile bush-roads become positively very 
 respectable ; and if you should happen to be overturned 
 once or twice during a journey of pleasure, very little 
 danger attends such an event, and very little compassion 
 is bestowed on you for your tumble in the snow ; so it is 
 wisest to shake off your light burden and enjoy the fun 
 with a good grace if you can. 
 
 Sleighing is certainly a very agreeable mode of tra- 
 velling ; the more snow the better the sleighing season is 
 considered ; and the harder it becomes, the easier the 
 motion of the vehicle. The horses are all adorned with 
 strings of little brass bells about their necks or middles. 
 The merry jingle of these bells is far from disagreeable, 
 producing a light lively sound. 
 
 The following lines I copied from the New York 
 
8LKIGHINQ. 
 
 155 
 
 Albion for you; I think you will be pleased with 
 them: — 
 
 SLEIGH-BELLS. 
 
 'Tis merry to hear at evening time 
 
 By the blazing hearth the sleigh-hells chime ; • 
 
 To know each bound of the steed brings near 
 
 The form of him to our bosoms dear ; 
 
 Lightly we spring the fire to raise, 
 
 Till the rafters glow with the ruddy blaze* , 
 
 'Tis he— and blithely the gay bells sound, 
 
 As his steed skims over the frozen ground. 
 
 Hark ! he has passed the gloomy wood ; 
 
 He crosses now the ice-bound flood, 
 
 And sees the light from the open door, , 
 
 To hail his toilsome journey o'er. 
 
 Our hut is small, and rude our cheer. 
 But love has spread the banquet here ; 
 And childhood springs to be caress'd 
 By our beloved and welcome guest ; 
 "With smiling brow his tale he tells. 
 They laughing ring the merry bells. 
 
 From the cedar swamp the wolf may howl. 
 From the blasted pine loud whoop the owl ; 
 The sudden crash of the falling tree 
 Are sounds of terror no more to me ; 
 No longer I list with boding fear, 
 The sleigh-bells' merry peal to hear.* 
 
 As soon as a sufficient quantity of snow has fallen, all 
 vehicles of every description, from the stage-coach to 
 the wheelbarrow, are supplied with wooden runners, 
 shod with iron, after the manner of skates. The usual 
 equipages for travelling are the double sleigh, light 
 waggon, and cutter; the two former are drawn by two 
 horses abreast, but the latter, which is by far the most 
 
 in 
 
 * This little poem by Mrs. Moodie has since been printed 
 a volume of " Friendship's Offering," with some altera- 
 
 tions by the editor that deprive it a good deal of the simpli* 
 city of the original. 
 
 1 
 
 
, * 
 
 1" ' , f 
 
 ■■ 
 
 ■ ' ■ 
 
 
 f .;*. ■,. 
 
 ■» 
 
 • 
 
 
 ' ' " "* 
 
 
 M 
 
 ibi 
 
 .1^ 
 
 
 
 DACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 elegant-looking, has but one, and answens more to our 
 gig or chaise. 
 
 Wrapjied up in buffalo robes you feel no incon. 
 venience from the cold, excepting to your face, which 
 requires to be defended by a warm beaver or i'ur bonnet ; 
 the latter, I am surprised to find, is seldom if ever 
 worn, from the nonsensical reason that it is not tin- 
 fashion. The red, grey, and black S(juirrels arc 
 abundant in our woods ; the musk-rat inhabits little 
 houses that he builds in the rushy parts of the lakes: 
 these dwellings are formed of the roots of sedges, sticks, 
 and other materials of a similar nature, and i>iustcrcd 
 with mud, over which a thick close thatch is raised to 
 the height of a foot or njore above the water ; they are 
 of a round or dome-shaj)e, and are distinctly visible 
 from the shore at some distance. The Indians set traps 
 to ensnare these creatures in their houses, and sell 
 their skins, which are very thick and glossy towards 
 winter. The beaver, the bear, the black lynx, and 
 foxes, are also killed, and brought to the stores by the 
 hunters, where the skins are exchanged lor goods or 
 money. 
 
 The Indians dress the deer-skins for making mocas- 
 sins, which are greatly sought after by the settlers in 
 these parts; they are very comfortable in snowv 
 weather, and keep the feet very warm, but you require 
 several wrappings of cloth round the feet before you put 
 them on. I wore a beautiful pair all last winter, worked 
 with porcupine-quills and bound with scarlet ribbon; 
 these elegant mocassins were the handicraft of an old 
 squaw, the wife of Peter the hunter ; you have already 
 heard of him in my former letters. I was delighted 
 M'itli a curious specimen of Indian orthography that ac- 
 companied the mocassins, in the form of a note, which I 
 shall transcribe for your edification : — 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Pleas if you would give something ; you must git 
 in ordir in store is woyth (worth) them mocsin, porcu- 
 pine quill on et. One dollers fbure yard. 
 
s more to our 
 
 eel no incon. 
 
 ir fiKC, which 
 
 or I'ur boniHt ; 
 
 »clilum if ever 
 
 it is not till" 
 
 S(iuirrcls arc 
 
 inhabits little 
 
 of the lakes: 
 
 sedges, slicks, 
 
 and j>histcrccl 
 
 oh is raised to 
 
 iter ; thev are 
 
 tinctly visihle 
 
 Jians set traps 
 
 isos, and sell 
 
 f lossy towards 
 
 ick lynx, and 
 
 stores by the 
 
 lor goods or 
 
 lakinir mocas- 
 le settlers in 
 in snowv 
 you require 
 itbre you jmt 
 inter, worked 
 arlet ribbon; 
 lit of an old 
 lave already 
 as delighted 
 pliy that ac- 
 ote, which I 
 
 oil must jrit 
 csin, porcu- 
 
 ( li: ) 
 
 e3 
 
 
 
 .1 
 
 \ 
 
 11 
 
 'I- 
 
 r 
 
 I"* 
 
 i 
 
158 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 r1,t 
 
 
 » ,. ^1 
 
 I'. 
 
 ■t •■' 
 
 .h-^j 
 
 •i -J 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 :| !'l 
 
 ! '-i 
 
 «" 
 
 This curious billet was the production of the hunter's 
 eldest son, and is meant to intimate that if I would buy 
 the mocassins the price was one dollar, or an order on 
 one of the stores for four yards of calico ; for so the 
 squaw interpreted its meaning. The order for four 
 yards of pnnted cotton was delivered over to Mrs. 
 Peter, who carefully pinned it within the folds of her 
 blanket, and uoparted well satisfied with the payment. 
 And this reminds me of our visit to the Indians' camp 
 last week. Feeling some desire to see these singular 
 people in their winter encampment, I expressed my 
 
 wish to S , who happens to be a grand favourite 
 
 with the old hunter and his family ; as a mark of a 
 distinction they have bestowed on him the title of Chip- 
 pewa, the name of their tribe. He was delighted with the 
 opportunity of doing the honours of the Indian wigwam, 
 and it was agreed that he, with some of his brothers 
 and sisters-in-law, who happened to be on a visit at his 
 house, should come and drink tea with us and accom- 
 pany us to the camp in the woods. 
 
 A merry party we were that sallied forth that even- 
 ing into the glorious starlight ; the snow sparkled with 
 a thousand diamonds on its frozen surface, over which 
 we bounded with hearts as light as hearts could be in 
 this careful world. And truly never did I look upon a 
 lovelier sight than the woods presented ; there had been 
 a heavy fall of snow the preceding day ; owing to the 
 extreme stillness of the air not a particle of it had been 
 shaken from the trees. The evergreens were bending 
 beneath their brilliant burden ; every twig, every leaf 
 and spray was covered, and some of the weak saplings 
 actually bowed down to the earth with the weight of 
 snow, forming the most lovely and fanciful bowers and 
 arcades across our path. As you looked up towards 
 the tops of the trees the snowy branches seen against 
 the deep blue sky formed a silvery veil, through which 
 the bright stars were gleaming with a chastened bril- 
 liancy, 
 
 I was always an admirer of a snowy landscape, but 
 neither in this country nor at home did I ever see any 
 
 
INTEBIOB OP A WIGWAM. 
 
 159 
 
 the hunter's 
 L would buy 
 an order on 
 
 for so the 
 r for four 
 er to Mrs. 
 folds of her 
 e payment, 
 lians' camp 
 SB singular 
 pressed my 
 id favourite 
 
 mark of a 
 le of Chip- 
 ed with the 
 Ln wigwam, 
 is brothers 
 visit at his 
 md accom- 
 
 that even- 
 •kled with 
 ver which 
 ;ould be in 
 )ok upon a 
 J had been 
 ng to the 
 
 had been 
 i bending 
 ivery leaf 
 
 saplings 
 weight of 
 )wers and 
 towards 
 
 I against 
 
 h which 
 ned bril- 
 
 'ape, but 
 see any 
 
 thing so surpassingly lovely as the forest appeared that 
 night. 
 
 Leaving the broad road we struck into a bye-path, 
 deep tracked by the Indians, and soon perceived the 
 wigwam by the red smoke that issued from the open 
 basket-work top of the little hut. This is first formed 
 with light poles, planted round so as to enclose a circle 
 of ten or twelve feet in diameter ; between these poles 
 are drawn large sheets of birch-bark both within and 
 without, leaving an opening of the bare poles at the top 
 so as to form an outlet for the smoke ; the outer walls 
 Mere also banked up with snow, so as to exclude the air 
 entirely from beneath. 
 
 Some of our party, who were younger and lighter of 
 foot than we sober married folks, ran on before ; so that 
 when the blanket, that served the purpose of a door, 
 was unfastened, we found a motley group of the dark 
 skins and the pale faces reposing on the blankets and 
 skins that were spread round the walls of the wigwam. 
 
 The swarthy complexions, shaggy black hair, and 
 singular costume of the Indians formed a striking con- 
 trast with the fair-faced Europeans that were mingled 
 with them, seen as they were by the red and fitful glare 
 of the wood-fire that qpcupied the centre of the circle. 
 The deer-hounds lay stretched in indolent enjoyment, 
 close to the embers, while three or four dark-skinned 
 little urchins were playing with each other, or angrily 
 screaming out their indignation against the apish tricks 
 of the hunchback, my old acquaintance Maquin, that 
 Indian Flibbertygibbet, whose delight appeared to be 
 in teazing and tormenting the little papouses, casting as 
 he did so sidelong glances of impish glee at the guests, 
 while as quick as thought his features assumed an im- 
 penetrable gravity when the eyes of his father or the 
 squaws seemed directed towards his tricks. 
 
 There was a slight bustle among the party when we 
 entered one by one through the low blanket doorway. 
 The merry laugh rang round among our friends, which 
 was echoed by more than one of the Indian men, and 
 joined by the peculiar half-laugh or chuckle of the 
 
 «•;»? 
 
 i 
 
i ■■< 
 
 
 4 ; ' ' ' ! ' 
 
 #•"■ 
 
 !•':. 
 
 :'»■ 
 
 11' 'P' 
 
 
 
 •I* ! 
 
 1^^ 
 
 
 
 IGO 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 squaws. *' Chippewa^ was directed to a post of honour 
 beside the hunter Peter ; and squaw Peter, with an air 
 of great good humour, made room for me on a comer of 
 her own blanket ; to effect which, two papouses and a 
 liound were sent lamenting to the neighbourhood of the 
 hunchback Maquin. 
 
 The most attractive persons in the wigwam were two 
 Indian girls, one about eighteen, — Jane, the hunter's 
 eldest daughter, and her cousin Margaret. I was greatly 
 struck with the beauty of Jane ; her features were posi- 
 tively fine, and though of gipsy darkness, the tint of ver- 
 milion on her cheek and lip rendered it, if not beautiful, 
 very attractive. Her hair, which was of jetty blackness, 
 was soft and shining, and was neatly folded over her fore- 
 head, not hanging loose and disorderly in shaggy masses,as 
 is generally the case with the squaws. Jane was evidently 
 aware of her superior charms, and may be considered as 
 an Indian belle, by the peculiar care she displayed in the 
 arrangement of the black cloth mantle, bound with 
 scarlet, that was gracefully wrapped over one shoulder, 
 and fastened at her left side with a gilt brooch. Mar- 
 garet was younger, of lower stature, and though lively 
 and rather pretty, yet wanted the quiet dignity of her 
 cousin ; she had more of the squaw in face and figure. 
 The two girls occupied a blanket by themselves, and 
 were busily engaged in working some most elegant 
 sheaths of deer-skin, richly wrought over with coloured 
 quills and beads ; they kept the beads and quills in a 
 small tin baking-pan on their knees; but my old squaw 
 (as I always call Mrs. Peter) held her porcupine-quills in 
 her mouth, and the fine dried sinews of the deer, which 
 they make use of instead of thread in work of this sort, 
 in her bosom. 
 
 On my expressing a desire to have some of the por- 
 cupine-quilis, she gave me a few of dififerent colour that 
 she was working a pair of mocassins with, but signified 
 that she wanted ** * bead* to work mocsin,'* by which I 
 understood I was to give some in exchange for the 
 quills. Indians never give, since they have learned to 
 trade with white men. 
 
INDIANS SINGING A HYMN. 
 
 161 
 
 She was greatly delighted with the praises I bestowed 
 on Jane. She told me Jane was soon to marry the 
 young Indian who sat on one aide of her in all the pride 
 of a new blan'rj f; coat, red sash, embroidered powder- 
 pouch, and grtiit gilt clasps to the collar of his coat, 
 which looked as warm and as white as a newly-washed 
 fleece. The old squaw evidently felt proud of the young 
 couple as she gazed on them, and often repeated, with a 
 good-tempered laugh, " Jane's husband — marry by and 
 by." 
 
 We had so often listened with pleasure to the Indians 
 singing their hymns of a Sunday night, that I requested 
 some of them to sing to us ; the old hunter nodded 
 assent ; and, without removing his pipe, with the gravity 
 and phlegm of a Dutchman, issued his commands, whicli 
 were as instantly obeyed by the younger part of the com- 
 munity, and a chorus of rich voices filled the little hut 
 with a melody that thrilled to our very hearts. 
 
 The hymn was sung in the Indian tongue, a language 
 that is peculiarly sweet and soft in its cadences, and 
 seems to be composed with many vowels. I could not 
 but notice the modest air of the girls ; as if anxious to 
 avoid observation that they felt was attracted by their 
 sweet voices, they turned away from the gaze of the 
 strangers, facing each other and bending their heads 
 down over the work they still held in their hands. The 
 attitude, which is that of the Eastern nations ; the dress, 
 dark hair and eyes, the olive complexion, heightened 
 colour, and meek expression of face, would have formed 
 a study for a painter. I wish you could have witnessed 
 the scene ; I think you would not easily have forgotten 
 it. I was pleased with the air of deep reverence that sat 
 on the faces of the elders of the Indian family, as they 
 listened to the voices of their children singing praise 
 and glory to the God and Saviour they had learned to 
 fear and love. 
 
 The Indians seem most tender parents ; it is pleasing 
 to see the affiectionate manner in which they treat their 
 young children, fondly and gently caressing them with 
 eyes overflowing and looks of love. During the singing 
 

 
 
 ■li 
 
 
 I (11*: ■ 
 
 k 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 162 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 each papouse crept to the feet of its respective father and 
 mother, and those that were too young to join their 
 voices to their little choir, remained quite silent till the 
 hymn was at an end. One little girl, a fat brown roly- 
 poly, of three years old, beat time on her father's knee, 
 and from time to time chimed in her infant voice ; she 
 evidently possessed a fine ear and natural taste for music. 
 I was at a loss to conceive where the Indians kept 
 their stores, clothes, and other moveables, the wigwam 
 being so small that there seemed no room for any thing 
 besides themselves and their hounds. Their ingenuity, 
 however, supplied the want of room, and I soon dis- 
 covered a plan that answered all the purposes of closets, 
 bags, boxes, &c., the inner lining of birch-bark being 
 drawn between the poles so as to form hollow pouches 
 all round ; in these pouches were stowed their goods ; 
 one set held their stock of dried deer's flesh, another 
 dried fish, a third contained some flat cakes, which I 
 have been told they bake in a way peculiar to themselves, 
 with hot ashes over and under ; for my part I think they 
 must be far from palatable so seasoned. Their dressed 
 skins, clothes, materials for their various toys, such as 
 beads, quills, bits of cloth, silk, with a thousand other 
 miscellaneous articles, occupied the rest of these reser- 
 
 voirs. 
 
 Though open for a considerable space at the top, the 
 interior of the wigwam was so hot, I could scarcely 
 breathe, and was constrained to throw oft' all my wrap- 
 pings during the time we stayed. Before we went away 
 the hunter insisted on showing us a game. Which was 
 something after the manner of our cup-and-ball, only 
 more complicated, and requires more sleight of hand : 
 the Indians seemed evidently well pleased at our want 
 of adroitness. They also showed us another game, 
 which was a little like nine-pins, only the number of 
 sticks stuck in the ground was greater. 1 was unable to 
 stay to see the little rows of sticks knocked out, as the 
 heat of the wigwam oppressed me almost to suff'ocation, 
 and I was glad to feel myself once more breathing the 
 4)ure air. 
 
8TOBT OF AN INDIAN. 
 
 163 
 
 In any other climate one would scarcely have under- 
 gone such sudden extremes of temperature without catch- 
 ing a severe cold ; but fortunately that distressing com- 
 plaint catche le cold^ as the Frenchman termed it, is not 
 so prevalent in Canada as at home. 
 
 Some twenty years ago, while a feeling of dread still 
 existed in the minds of the British settlers towards the 
 Indians, from the remembrance of atrocities committed 
 during the war of independence, a poor woman, the 
 widow of a settler whc occupied a farm in one of the 
 then but thinly-settled townships back of the Ontario, 
 was alarmed by the sudden appearance of an Indian 
 within the walls of her log-hut. He had entered so 
 Silently that it was not till he planted himself before the 
 blazing fire that he was perceived by the frightened 
 widow and her little ones, who retreated, trembling with 
 ill-concealed terror, to the farthest corner of the room. 
 
 Without seeming to notice the dismay which his ap- 
 pearance had excited, the Indian proceeded to disen- 
 cumber himself from his hunting accoutrements ; he then 
 unfastened his wet mocassins, which he hung up to dry, 
 plainly intimating his design was to pass the nig^ht 
 beneath their roof, it being nearly dark and snowing 
 heavily. 
 
 Scarcely daring to draw an audible breath, the little 
 group watched the movements of their unwelcome guest. 
 Imagine their horror when they beheld him take from 
 his girdle a hunting-knife, and deliberately proceed to 
 try its edge. After this his tomahawk and rifle under- 
 went a similar examination. 
 
 The despair of the horror-stricken mother was now 
 approaching a climax. She already beheld in idea the 
 frightful -mangled corpses of her murdered children 
 upon that hearth which had so often been the scene oi' 
 their innocent gambols. Instinctively she clasped the 
 two youngest to her breast at a forward movement of the 
 Indian. With streaming eyes she was about to throw 
 herself at his feet, as he advanced towards her with the 
 dreaded weapons in his hands, and implore his mercy 
 for herself and her babes. What then wcrs her surprise 
 

 *K 
 
 f. 
 
 
 I'' 
 
 
 t 1 *. 
 
 
 ', !■"■ ' ! 
 
 
 
 I i- It I i ■ 
 
 IP I - : f lis 
 
 »^. ... ., 
 
 ' : t. 
 
 164 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 and joy when he gently laid the rifle, knife, and toma- 
 hawk beside her, signif'yingr by this action that she had 
 nothing to fear at his hands I'*' 
 
 A reprieve to a condemned criminal at the moment 
 previous to his execution was not more welcome than this 
 action of the Indian to the poor widow. Eager to prove 
 her confidence and her gratitude at the same time, she 
 hastened to prepare food for the refreshment of the now 
 no longer dreaded guest ; and assisted by the eldest of 
 her children, put clean sheets and the best blankets on 
 her own bed, which she joyfully devoted to the accommo- 
 dation of the stranger. An expressive " Hugh ! hugh !" 
 was the only reply to this act of hospitality ; but when 
 he went to take possession of his luxurious couch he 
 seemed sorely puzzled. It was evident the Indian had 
 never seen, and certainly never reposed on, a European 
 bed. After a mute examination of the bed-clothes for 
 some minutes, with a satisfied laugh, he sprang upon the 
 bed, and curling himself up like a dog, in a few minutes 
 was sound asleep. 
 
 By dawn of ciay the Indian had departed ; but when- 
 ever he came on the hunting-grounds in the neighbour- 
 hood of the widow, she was sure to see him. The 
 children, no longer terrified at his swarthy countenance 
 and warlike weapons, would gather round his knees, 
 admire the feathered pouch that contained his shot, finger 
 the beautiful embroidered sheath that held the hunting- 
 knife, or the finely-worked mocassins and leggings ; whilst 
 he would pat their heads, and bestow upon them an 
 equal share of caresses with his deer-hounds. 
 
 Such was the story related to me by a young mis- 
 sionary. I thought it might prove not uninteresting, as 
 a trait of character of one of these singular; people. 
 Chiboya (for that was the name of the Indian) was one 
 
 * It is almost an invariable custom now for the Indians 
 on entering a dwelling-house to leave all their weapons, as 
 rifle, tomahawk, &c., outside the door, even if the weather be 
 ever so wet ; as they consider it unpolite to enter a friendly 
 dwelling armed. 
 
CANADIAN OBNITHOLOOT. 
 
 165 
 
 of the Chippewas of Rice Lake, most of whom are now 
 converts to Christianity, and making considerable ad- 
 vancement in civilization and knowledge of agriculture. 
 Hunting and fishing, however, appear to be their favourite 
 pursuits : for these they leave the comfortable houses at 
 the Indian villages, and return at stated times to their 
 forest haunts. I believe it is generally considered that 
 their numbers are diminishing, and some tribes have be- 
 come nearly if not totally extinct in the Canadas * The 
 race is slowly passing away from the face of the earth, or 
 mingling by degrees with the colonists, till, a few cen- 
 turies hence, even the names of their tribes will scarcely 
 remain to tell that they once existed. 
 
 When next you send a box or parcel, let me have a 
 few good tracts and hymn-books ; as they prize a gift of 
 this sort extremely. I send you a hymn, the one they 
 sang to us in the wigwam ; it ^s the Indian translation, 
 and written by the hunter, Peter's eldest son : he was 
 delighted when I told him I wanted him to copy it for 
 me, that I might send it across the seas to my own 
 country, that English people might see how well Indians 
 could write. 
 
 The hunchback Maquin has made me a miniature 
 canoe of birch-bark, which I send ; you will prize it as 
 a curiosity, and token of remembrance. The red and 
 black squirrel-skins are for Jane ; the feather fans and 
 papers of feathers for Sarah. Tell the latter the next 
 time I send a packet home, she shall have specimens fit 
 for stuffing of our splendid red-bird, which, I am sure, 
 is the Virginian nightingale ; it comes in May or April, 
 and leaves us late in the summer : it exactly corresponds 
 to a stuffed Virginian nightingale that I saw in a fine 
 
 t-M 
 
 !l 
 
 I 
 
 ?lr 
 
 :t .;'ft 
 
 * It is stated that the North-West Company had a census 
 of all the tribes, and that the whole Indian population of that 
 immense continent did not exceed 100,000 souls. lu a Par- 
 liamentary document of 1834, the Indians of Lower Canada 
 are estimated at 3437, and those of Upper Canada at 13,700, 
 which latter number is stated to include those on the shores 
 of Lake Huron and to the westward. — £d» 
 
166 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 •■•i 
 
 I ' 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 -» , • 
 
 
 •1; 
 
 ■J ■ : 
 
 
 ffit^ri t' 
 
 -Sil 
 
 iPi-i 
 
 ^fi 
 
 .i3 
 
 .^ ■■ --lit !^ 
 
 
 
 collection of American birds. The blue-bird is equallv 
 lovely, and migrates much about the same time ; the 
 plumafje is of a celestial blue : but I have never seen 
 one otherwise than upon the wing, so cannot describe it 
 minutely. The cross-bills are very pretty ; the male 
 and female quite opposite in colour, one having a lovely 
 mixture of scarlet and orange on the breast and back, 
 shading into greenish olive and brown ; the other more 
 like our ycUowhammcr, only it is not quite so bright in 
 colour, though much softer, and more innocent-looking : 
 they come to our windows and doors in the winter as 
 familiarly as your robins. During the winter most of cur 
 birds depart ; even the hollow tapping of the red-headed 
 and the small speckled grey and white woodpecker 
 ceases to be heard ; the sharp chittcring of the squirrel, 
 too, is seldomer distinguished ; and silence, awful and 
 unbroken silence, reigns in the forest during the season 
 of midwinter. 
 
 I had well nigh forgotten my little favourites, a species 
 of the titmouse, that docs not entirely forsake us. Of a 
 bright warm, sunny day we see flocks of these tiny birds 
 swinging among the feathery sprigs of the hemlocks or 
 shrubby pines on the plains or in the forest ; and many a 
 time have I stayed my steps to watch their playful 
 frolics, and listen to their gay warbling. I am no* 
 quite certain, but I think this is the same little bird that 
 is known among the natives by the name of Thit-a-be- 
 bee ; its note, though weak, and with few changes, is 
 not unpleasing ; and we prize it fi'om its being almost 
 the only bird that sings during the winter. 
 
 I had heard much of the snow-bunting, but never had 
 seen it till the other day, and then not near enough to 
 mark its form or colours. The day was one of uncommon 
 brilliancy ; the sky cloudless, and the air almost warm ; 
 when, looking towards the lake, I was surprised by 
 the appearance of one of the pine-trees near the shore : 
 it seemed as if covered with stars of silver that twinkled 
 and sparkled against the blue sky. I was so charmed by 
 the novelty, that I ran out to observe them nearer; 
 when, to my surprise, my stars all took flight to another 
 
 f , y 
 
( !«■ ) 
 
 r^ 
 
 l*^y 
 
 y^/-<^'--y 
 
 
 y^j - ' ri_», 
 
 ■*^ 
 
 
 SS5 
 
 '^«ffj-; -; > j'>;J V- 
 
 
 ■* 
 
 ei> 
 
 ■/:s. 
 
 ^V 
 
 ^u^- 
 
 ->^ 
 
 :^;^i^ 
 
 
 u 
 
 f 
 
 I 
 
 ,»" 
 
 f^^i: 
 
 i.'.» 
 
 fj 
 
 ii| 
 
 4 
 
 H'TM 
 
 iij 
 
 
 lifll 
 
 it never had 
 • enough to 
 uncommon 
 most warm ; 
 irprised by 
 ' the shore : 
 lat twinkled 
 charmed by 
 em nearer; 
 t to another 
 
 y 
 
 
 
 ■'A 
 
 W I 
 
 :iC- 
 
 / 
 
 Snow Buntin' 
 
 <"f!: 
 
 ■.<i<i 
 
168 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 ; ' •! 
 
 |ffi|; 
 
 
 1^' fv-- 
 
 ■^n * i 
 
 tree, where, by the constant waving and fluttering o| 
 their small white wings against the sunlight, tl jy pro. 
 duced the beautiful eftect that had at first attracted my 
 observation: soon all the pines within sight of the win- 
 dow were illuminated by these lovely creatures. About. 
 mid-day they went away, and I nave seen them but 
 once since. They never lit on the ground, or any low| 
 tree or bough, for me to examine them nearer. 
 
 Of our singing-birds, the robin, the blackbird, and a I 
 tiny bird like our common wren, are those I am most 
 intimate with. The Canadian robin is much larger than 
 our dear robin at home ; he is too coarse and large a 
 bird to realize the idea of our little favourite, " the 
 household-bird with the red stomacher," as he is called 
 by Bishop Carey, in a sonnet addressed to Elizabeth, the| 
 daughter of James I., on her marriage wifh the unfortu- 
 nate Frederic, Prince Palatine. 
 
 The song of the Canadian robin is by no means despi- 
 cable ; its notes are clear, sweet, and various ; it possesses! 
 the same cheerful lively character that distinguishes the 
 carol of its namesake; but the general habits of the 
 bird are very dissimilar. The Canadian robin is less 
 sociable with man, but more so with his own species: 
 they assemble in flocks soon after the breeding season is 
 over, and appear very amicable one to another ; but| 
 seldom, if ever, approach very near to our dwelling. 
 The breast is of a pinkish salmon colour : the head I 
 black ; the back of a sort of bluish steel, or slate colour ;| 
 in size they are as big as a thrush. 
 
 The blackbird is perhaps our best songster, according I 
 to my taste ; full as fine as our English blackbird, and| 
 much handsomer in its plumage, which is a glossy, 
 changeable, greenish black. The upper part of the I 
 wing of the male bird of full growth is of a lively 
 orange ; this is not apparent in the younger birds, nor in| 
 the female, which is slightly speckled. 
 
 Towards the middle of the summer, when the grain I 
 begin to ripen, these birds assemble in large flocks : the| 
 management of their marauding parties appears to be su- 
 perintended by the elders of the family. When they I 
 
BLACKBIAO. 
 
 169 
 
 are about to descend upon a field oF oats or wheat, two 
 or three mount guard as sentinels, and on the approach 
 of danger cry Geck-geck-geck ; this precaution seems a 
 worlc of supererogation, as they are so saucy that they 
 will hardly be frightened awav ; and if they rise it is 
 only to alight on the same field at a little distance, or fly 
 up to the trees, where their look-out posts are. 
 
 They have a peculiarly melancholy call-note at times, 
 which sounds exactly like the sudden twang of a harp- 
 string, vibrating for a second or two on the oar. This, 
 I am inclined to think, they use to c llect their distant 
 comrades, as I have never observed it when they were 
 all in full assembly, but when a few were sitting in some 
 tree near the lake's edge. I have called them the 
 '^harpers,*' from this jxjculiar note. I shall tire you 
 with my ornithological sketches, but must enumerate two 
 or three more birds. 
 
 The bald eagle frequently flies over our clearing ; it 
 has a dark body and snow-white head. It is sometimes 
 troublesome to the {wultry -yards : those we have seen 
 have disdained such low game, and soared majestically 
 away across the lake. 
 
 The fish-hawk we occasionally see skimming the sur- 
 face of the water, and it is regarded as an enemy by 
 those who take delight in spearing fish upon the 
 lakes. 
 
 Then we have the night or mosquito hawk, which 
 may be seen in the air pursuing the insect tribe in the 
 higher regions, whilst hundreds of great dragon-flies 
 pursue them below : notwithstanding their assistance, we 
 are bitten mercilessly by those summer pests the mosqui- 
 toes and black flies. 
 
 The red-headed woodpecker is very splendid ; the 
 head and neck being of a rich crimson ; the back, wings, 
 and breast are divided between the most snowy white 
 and jetty black. The incessant tapping of the wood- 
 peckers, and the discordant shriek of the blue jay, are 
 neard from sunrise to sunset, as soon as the spring is 
 fairly set in. 
 
 I found a little family of woodpeckers last spring com- 
 
 I ! 
 

 
 
 ) 
 
 
 
 170 
 
 BACKWOODS or CAVirA. 
 
 fortably nested in an oh! pine, b^ \'0i? th'^ bark and the 
 trunk of the tree, where the former had started away, 
 and left a hollow space, in which the old birds had built 
 a soft but careless sort of nest; the little creatures 
 seemed very happy, poking their funny bare heads out 
 to greet the old ones, who were knocking away at the 
 old stumps in their neighbourhood to supply their era- 
 vings, as busy as so many carpenters at work. 
 
 A very curious bird*s-ncst was given me by one of our 
 choppers ; it was woven over a forked spray, so that it 
 had all the appearance of having been sewn to the bough 
 with grey thread. The nest was only secured at the two 
 sides that formed the angle, but so strong was it fastened 
 that it seemed to resist any weight or pressure of a mo- 
 derate kind ; it was composed of the fibres of the bass- 
 wood bark, which are very thready, and may be drawn 
 to great fineness : on the whole it was a curious specimen 
 of the ingenuity of these admirable little architects. I 
 could not discover the builder ; but rather suspect the 
 nest to have belonged to my protege, the little winter 
 titmouse that I told you of. 
 
 The nest of the Canadian robin, which I discovered 
 while seeking for a hen's nest in a bush-heap, just at the 
 farther edge of the clearing, is very much like our home 
 robin's, allowing something for difference of size in the 
 bird and in the material j the eggs, five in number, were 
 deep blue. 
 
 Before I quit the subject of birds, I must recall to your 
 remembrance the little houses that the Americans build 
 for the swallow ; I have since found out one of their 
 great reasons for cherishing this useful bird. It appears 
 that a most rooted antipathy exists between this species 
 and the hawk tribe, and no hawk will abide their neigh- 
 bourhood ; as they pursue them for miles, annoying them 
 in every possible way, haunting the hawk like its evil 
 genius : it is most singular that so small a creature should 
 thus overcome one that is the formidable enemy of so 
 many of the feathered race. I should have been some- 
 what sceptical on the subject, had I not myself been 
 an eye-witness to the fact. I was looking out of my 
 
SWALLOWS. 
 
 171 
 
 window one bright summer-day, when I noticed a hawk 
 of a large description flying heavily along the lake, utter- 
 ing cries of distress ; within a yard or two of it was a 
 small — in the distance it appeared to me a very small — 
 bird pursuing it closely, and also screaming. I watched 
 this strange pair till the pine-wood hid them from my 
 sight ; and I often marvelled at the circumstance, till a 
 very intelligent French Canadian traveller happened to 
 name the fact, and said so great was the value placed on 
 these birds, that they had been sold at high prices to 
 be sent to different parts of the province. They never 
 forsake their old haunts when once naturalized, the same 
 pairs constantly returning, year after year, to their old 
 nouse. 
 
 The singular fact of these swallows driving the hawk 
 from his haunts is worthy of attention ; as it is well au- 
 thenticated, and adds one more to the many interesting 
 and surprising anecdotes recorded by naturalists of the 
 sagacity and instinct of these birds. 
 
 I have, however, scribbled so many sheets, that I fear 
 my long letter must weary you. 
 
 Adieu. 
 
 ■ Hi 
 
 
 (>i 
 
 u 
 

 ^ !:■ I 
 
 l:' 
 
 '■1 , ' 
 
 
 *'v 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■ - 
 
 t", 
 
 :.J, 
 
 
 ■;f; 
 
 1 L' 
 
 ■» 
 
 
 ? 
 
 i ' 
 
 
 ff^ 
 
 ■V'- i. 
 
 mM ^ i^li 
 
 i!,;^^ . "i 
 
 
 172 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CAKADiU 
 
 Letter XIV 
 
 Utility of Botanical Knowledge.— The Fire-Weed.— Sar- 
 saparilla Plants. — Magnificent Water-Lily. — Eice-beds 
 — Indian Strawberry. — Scarlet Columbine. — Ferns.—- 
 Grasses. 
 
 July 13, 1834. 
 
 OuB winter broke up unusually early this year : by the 
 end of February the ground was quite free from snow, 
 and the weather continued all through March mild and 
 pleasant, though not so warm as the preceding year, 
 and certainly more variable. By the last week in April 
 and the beginning of May, ihe forest-trees had all burst 
 into leaf, with a brilliancy of green that was exquisitely 
 lovely. 
 
 On the 14th, IStJ, and 16th of May, the air became 
 suddenly cold, with sharp winds from the north-west, 
 and heavy storms of snow that nipped the young buds, 
 and destroyed many of the early-sown vegetable seeds ; 
 fortunately for us we were behindhand with ours, which 
 was very well, as it happened. 
 
 Our woods and clearings are now full of beautiful 
 flowers. You will be able to form some idea of them 
 from the dried specimens that I send you. You will re- 
 cognise among them many of the cherished pets of 
 our gardens and greenhouses, which are here flung 
 carelessly from Nature's lavish hand among our woods 
 and wilds. 
 
 How often do I wish you were beside me in my 
 rambles among the woods and clearings! you would 
 be so delighted in searching out the floral treasures of 
 the place. 
 
UTILITY OP BOTANICAL KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 173 
 
 Deeply do I now regret having so idly neglected 
 your kind offers while at home of instructing me in 
 iiower-painting ; you often told me the time would come 
 when I should have cause to regret neglecting the 
 golden opportunity before me. 
 
 You proved a true prophetess ; for I daily lament that 
 I cannot mUke faithfal representations of the flowers of 
 my adopted country, or understand, as you would do, 
 their botanical arrangement. With some few I have 
 made myself acquainted, but have hardly confidence in my 
 scanty stock of knowledge to venture on scientific descrip- 
 tions, when I feel conscious that a blunder would be 
 easily detected, and expose me to ridicule and contempt 
 lor an assumption of knowledge that I did not possess. 
 The only botanical work I have at my command is 
 Piirsh's North American Flora, from which I have ob- 
 tained some information ; but must confess it is tiresome 
 blundering out Latin descriptions to one who knows 
 nothing of Latin beyond what she derives through a 
 knowledge of Italian. 
 
 I have made out a list of the plants most worthy of 
 attention near us ; there are many others in the town- 
 ship that I am a stranger to ; some there are with whose 
 names I am unacquainted. I subjoin a slight sketch, 
 not with my pencil, but my pen, of those flowers that 
 pleased me particularly, or that possessed any remark- 
 able qualities. 
 
 The same plants do not grow on cleared land that 
 formerly occupied the same spot when it was covered 
 with forest-trees. A distinct class of vegetation makes 
 its appearance as soon as the fire has passed over the 
 ground. 
 
 The same thing may be remarked with regard to the 
 change that takes place among our forests. As one 
 generation falls and decays, new ones of a different cha- 
 racter spring up in their places. This is illustrated in 
 the circumstance of the resinous substance called fat- 
 pine being usually found in places where the living pine 
 is Icc-st abundant, and where the ground is occupied by 
 oak, ash) buck, maple, and bass-wood. 
 
 ri 
 
 M'Wlt 
 
 n 
 
I»tl:!!fi'f4'j 
 
 .^"1 V 
 
 174 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 
 I I 
 
 «' f .' I 
 
 ■I MM 
 
 .),' 
 
 
 ■>t 
 
 m 
 
 Hi.'': 
 
 
 
 
 !♦ ■: 
 
 The firc-wecd, a species of tall thistle of rank and 
 unpleasant scent, is the first plant that appears when the 
 ground has been freed from timber by fire ; if a piece 
 of land lies untilled the first summer after its being 
 chopped, the following spring shows you a smotherine> 
 crop of this vile weed. The next plant you notice is 
 the sumach, with its downy stalks, and head of deep 
 crimson velvety flowers, forming an upright obtuse 
 bunch at the extremity of the branches : tne leaves turn 
 scarlet towards the latter end of the summer. This 
 shrub, though really very ornamental, is regarded as a great 
 pest in old clearings, where the roots run and send up 
 suckers in abundance. The raspberry and wild goose- 
 berry are next seen, and thousands of strav>berry plants 
 of different varieties carpet the ground, and mingle with 
 the grasses of the pastures. I have been obliged this 
 spring to root out with remorseless hand hurlreds of 
 sarsaparilla plants, and also the celebrated gingseng, 
 which grows abundantly in our woods: it used for- 
 merly to be an article of export to China from the 
 States, the root being held in high estimation by the 
 Chinese. 
 
 Last week I noticed a succulent plant that made its 
 appearance on a dry sandy path in my garden ; it seems 
 to me a variety of the hour-blowing mesembryanthemum. 
 It has increased so rapidly that it already covers a large 
 space ; the branches converging from the centre of the 
 plant, and sending forth shoots from every joint. The 
 leaves are rather small, three-sided and pointed, thick 
 and juicy, yielding a green liquor when bruised like the 
 common sedums. The stalks are thick and round, of a 
 bright red, and trail along the ground ; the leaves spring 
 from each joint, and with them a constant succession of 
 yellow starry flowers, that close in an hour or so from 
 the time they first unfold. 1 shall send you some of 
 the seed of this plant, as I perceived a number of 
 little green pods that looked like the buds, but which, 
 on opening, proved to be the seed-vessels. This plant 
 covers the earth like a thick mat, and, I am told, is 
 rather troublesome where it likes the soil. 
 
 
MAGNinCENT WATER-LILY. 
 
 175 
 
 I regret that among- my dried plants I could not pre- 
 serve some specimens of our superb water-lilies and 
 irises ; but they were too large and too juicy to dry well. 
 As I cannot send you my favourites, I must describe 
 them to you. 
 
 The first, then, is a magnificent water-lily, that I have 
 called by way of distinction the *' queen of tho lakes," 
 for she sits a crown upon the waters. This magnificent 
 flower is about the size of a moderately large dahlia; it 
 is double to the heart ; every row of petals diminishing 
 by degrees in size, and gradually deepening in tint from 
 the purest white to the brightest lemon colour. The 
 buds are very lovely, and may be seen below the sur- 
 face of the v/atcr, in different stages of forwardness from 
 the closely-folded bud, wrapped in its olive-green calix, 
 to the half-blown flower, ready to emerge from its 
 wp.tery prison, and in all its virgin beauty expand its 
 sno\7y bosom to the sun and genial air. Nor is the 
 beauty of the flower its sole attraction : when unfolded 
 it gives out a rich perfume not unlike the smell of fresh 
 lemons. Tlie leaves are also worthy of attention : at 
 first they are of a fine dark green, but as the flower 
 decays, the leaf changes its hue to a vivid crimson. 
 Where a large bed of these lilies p'ow closely together, 
 they give quite a sanguine appeararc.? to the waters, tnat 
 is distinguishable at some distance. 
 
 The yellow species of this plant L- aioO very hand- 
 some, though it wants the silken texture and delicate 
 colour of the former ; I call this *he " wate. Ving." The 
 flower presents a deep golden-cjioared cv.p, tho concave 
 petals of which are clouded in the centre wi'!> a dark 
 reddish-brown, that forms a striking contrjist to the gay 
 anthers, which are very numerous, and turn back from 
 the centre of the flower, falling like fringes of yold one 
 over the other, in successive rows, till they fill up the 
 hollow flower-cup. 
 
 The shallows of our lakes abound with a vp.riety of 
 elegant aquatic plants : I know not a more lovely sight 
 than one of these floating gardens. Here you shall 
 behold near the shore a bed of azure fleur-de-lis from 
 
 i2 
 
 :• 
 
 ;.; f 
 

 176 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 
 
 'A- 
 
 
 
 l'" 
 
 ^ ; ■ 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 "-( 
 
 if<. 
 
 the palest pearl colour varying to the darkest purple. 
 Nearer in shore, in the shallowest water, the rose* 
 coloured persecaria sends up its beautiful spikes trailing 
 below the surface ; you see the red stalks and smooth 
 dark green leaves veined underneath with rosy red : it is 
 a very charming variety of this beautiful species of 
 plants. Then a bed of my i'avourite white lilies, all in 
 full bloom, floating on the water, with their double 
 flowers expanding to the sun : near these, and rising in 
 stately pride, a tall plant, with dark green s]>ear-shaped 
 leaves, and thick spike of bright blue flowers, is seen. I 
 cannot discover the name of this very grand-looking 
 flower, and I neglected to examine its botanical construc- 
 tion ; so can give you no clue by which to discover its 
 name or species. 
 
 Our rice-beds are far from being unworthy of admira- 
 tion ; seen from a distance they look like low green 
 islands on the lakes : on passing through one of these 
 rice-beds when the rice is in flower, it has a beautiful ap- 
 pearance with its broad grassy leaves and light waving 
 spikes, garnished with pale yellow green blossoms, deli- 
 cately shaded with reddish purple, from beneath which 
 fall three elegant straw-coloured anthers, which move 
 with every breath of air or slightest motion of the waters. 
 I gathered several spikes when only just opened, but the 
 tiresome things fed to pieces directly they became dry. 
 Next summer I will make another attempt at preserving 
 them, and it may be with better success. 
 
 The low shore of the lake is a complete shrubbery. 
 We have a ycvy pretty St. John's-wort, with handsome 
 yellow flowers. The white and pink spiral Irutex also 
 abounds with some exquisite upright honeysuckles, 
 shrubby plants about three feet in height ; the blossoms 
 grow in pairs or by fours, and hang beneath the light 
 green leaves ; elegant trumpet-shaped flowers of a deli- 
 cate greenish white, which are succeeded by ruby- 
 coloured berries. On gathering a branch of this plant, 
 you cannot but be struck with the elegant arrangement 
 of the flowers along the under }>art of the stalks. The 
 two blossoms are connected at the nectary of each in a 
 
 \ '< 
 
 Si [ M. 
 
A CUEIOUS PLANT. 
 
 177 
 
 singular manner. The Americans call this honeysuckle 
 *' twinfiower." I have seen some of the flowers of this 
 plant pale pink : on the whole it is one of the most 
 ornamental shrubs we have. I transplanted some young 
 trees into my garden last spring ; they promise to live 
 and do well. 1 do not find any description of this shrub 
 in Pursh's Flora, but know it to be a species of honey- 
 suckle, from the class and order, the shape and colour of 
 the leaves, the stalks, the trumpet-sliaj)cd blossom and 
 the fruit ; all bearing a resemblance to our honeysuckles 
 in some degree. There is a. tall upright bush, bearing 
 large yellow trumpet-shaped flowers, springing from the 
 extremities of the branches ; the involucrum forms a 
 boat-shaped cup that encircles the flowers from which 
 tht^y seem to spring, something after the manner of the 
 scarlet trumpet-honeysuckle. The leaves and blossoms 
 of this plant are coarse, and by no means to compare 
 to the former. 
 
 VVe have a great variety of curious orchises, some 
 brown and yellow, others pale flesh-coloured, striped 
 with crimson. There is one species grows to the height 
 of two feet, bearing long spikes of pale purple flowers ; 
 a white one with most fragrant smell, and a delicate pink 
 one with round head of blossoms, finely fringed like the 
 water-pinks that grow in our marshes : this is a very 
 pretty flowtT, and grows in the beaver-meadows. 
 
 Last autunm I olDserved in the pine-wood near us a 
 vcv curious plant ; it c; me up with naked brown stems, 
 bidnching off like some miniature tree ; the stalks of 
 this plant were brown, slightly freckled and beset with 
 little knobs. I watched the progress of maturity in this 
 strange plant with some degree of interest, towards the 
 latter end of October ; the little knobs, which consisted 
 of two angular hard cases, not unlike, vvhen fully opened, 
 to a boat in shape, burst asunder and displayed a pale 
 straw-coloured chafty substance that resembled fine saw- 
 dust : these must have been the anthers, but they bore 
 more resemblance to seeds ; this singular flower would 
 have borne examination wiih a microscope. One pecu- 
 liarity that I observed was, that on pulling up a plant 
 
 ■V 
 
 ^h:'- 
 
 
 iA 
 
 
178 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 
 :0 
 
 .^■* 
 
 with its roots, I found the blossoms open underground, 
 springing up from the lowest part of the flower-stems, 
 and just as far advanced to maturity as those that grew 
 on the upper stalks, excepting that they were somewhat 
 blanched, from being covered up from the air. I can 
 find no description of this plant, nor any person but 
 myself seems to have taken notice of it. The specimen 
 I had, on being dried, became so brittle that it fell to 
 pieces. 
 
 I have promised to collect some of the most singular of 
 our native flowers for one of the Professors of Botany in 
 the Edinburgh University. 
 
 We have a very handsome plant that bears the 
 closest affinity to our potato in its floral construction ; it 
 grows to the height of two or three feet in favourable 
 situations, and sends up many branches ^ the blossoms 
 are large, purely white, freckled near the bottom of the 
 corolla with brownish yellow spots ; the corolla is un- 
 divided : this is evidently the same })lant as the culti- 
 vated potato, though it does not appear to form apples at 
 the root. The fruit is very handsome, egg-shaped, of a 
 beautiful apricot colour when ripe, and of a shining 
 tempting appearance ; the smell, however, betrays its 
 poisonous nature : on opening one of the fruits you find 
 it consists of a soft pulp filled with shining black seeds. 
 The plant continues in blossom from June till the first 
 frost wither the leaves ; it is far le"~ '^oarse than the 
 potato ; the flower, when full blown, ^ ^bout the size of 
 a half-crown, and quite flat ; I think it is what you call 
 salver-shaped : it delights in light loamy soil, growing 
 on the upturned roots of fal en trees, where the ground 
 is inclined to br sandy. I have never seen this plant 
 elsewhere than on our own fallow. 
 
 The hepatica is the first flower of the Canadian 
 spring : it gladdens us with its tints of azure, pink, and 
 white, early in April, soon after the snows have niclt(d 
 from the earth. The Canadians call it snow-flower, 
 from its coming so soon after the snow disappears. Wo 
 see its gay tufts of flowers in the open clearings and the 
 deep recesses of the forests ; its leaves are also an en- 
 
 
 
 ^^:V3 
 
 11)1 
 
WOOD-CRESS. 
 
 179 
 
 (luring ornament through the open months of the year ; 
 you see them on every grassy mound and mossy root : 
 the shades of blue are very various and delicate, the 
 white anthers forming a lovely contrast with the blue 
 petals. 
 
 The wood-cress, or, as it is called by some, ginger- 
 cress, is a pretty white cruciform flower : it is highly 
 aromatic in flavour ; the root is white and fleshy, having 
 the pungency of horse-radish. The leaves are of a sad 
 green, sharply notched, and divided in three lobes ; the 
 leaves of some of them are slightly variegated ; the plant 
 delights in rich moist vegetable mould, especially on low 
 and slightly swampy ground ; the flower-stalk is some- 
 times naked, sometimes leafed, and is crowned with a 
 loose spike of whitish cruciform flowers. 
 
 There is a cress that grows in pretty green tufts at the 
 bottom of the waters in the creeks and small rivulets : it 
 is more delicate and agreeable in flavour than any of the 
 land-cresses ; the leaves are of a pale tender green, 
 winged, and sjender ; the plant looks like a green 
 cushion at the oottom of the water. The flowers are 
 yellow, cruciform, and insignificant ; it makes a yt^ry 
 acceptable salad in the early spring, and at the fall t;f 
 the year. There are also several species of land-cret^J, 
 and plaits resembling some of the cabbage tribes, that 
 might be used as spring vegetables. There are several 
 species of spinach, one known here by the name of 
 lamb's quarter, that grows in great profusion about our 
 garden, and in rich soil rises to two feet, and is very 
 luxuriant in its foliao^e ; the leaves are covered with a 
 white rough powder. The top shoots and tender parts 
 of this vegetable are boiled with pork, and, in place of a 
 more delicate pot-herb, is very useful. 
 
 Then we have the Indian turnip : this is a very hand- 
 some arum, the root of which resembles the capava, 1 
 am told, when boiled : the leaves of this arum are hand- 
 some, slightly tinged with purple. The spathe is of a 
 Hvely green, striped witii purple : the Indians use the 
 root as a medicine, and also as an esculent; it is often 
 eaten by the settlers as a vegetable, but I never tasted 
 
 ■ n 
 
 tl! 
 
 I' 
 
 
 
 11 
 
 ill 
 
 
 n 
 
 ill J 
 m 
 
 ■H • 
 
 u- 
 
 
 'l^'k 
 
m 
 
 r 
 
 '..f 
 
 
 t: 
 
 -►♦• ;£,•• •: .' 
 
 3m 
 
 a-'"- . 
 
 Yt^P'' 
 
 'f, 
 « 
 
 ■li'^i'l 
 
 ^ ■ 
 
 
 r-; ' 
 
 
 I:; 
 
 180 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 it myself. Pursh calls this species Aiiim atropw 
 pureum. 
 
 1 must not pass over one of our greatest ornaments, 
 the strawberry blite, strawberry-bearing spinach, or 
 Indian strawberry, as it is variously named. This sin- 
 gular plant throws out many branches from one stern ; 
 these are garnished with handsome leaves, resembling in 
 ai)pearance our long-leaved garden spinach : the finest of 
 this plant is of a bright crimson, pulpy like the straw- 
 berry, and containing a number of purple seeds partially 
 embedded in the surface, after the same manner as the 
 strawberry. The fruit grows close to the stalk, com- 
 pletely surrounding it, and forming a long sj)ike of the 
 richest crimson berries. I have gathered branches a 
 foot in length, closely covered with the beautiful-look- 
 ing fruit, and have regretted that it was so insipid in 
 its flavour as to make it uneatable. On the banks of 
 creeks and in rich ground it grows most luxuriantly, one 
 root sending up twenty or thirty branches, drooping with 
 the weight of their magnificent burden. As the middle 
 and superior stems ripen and decay, the lateral ones come 
 on, presenting a constant succession of fruit from July 
 till the frosts nip them off in September. 
 
 The Indians use the juice of this plant as a dye, and 
 are said to eat the berries : it is often made use of as a 
 substitute for red ink, but it is liable to fade unless 
 mingled with alum. A friend of mine told me she had 
 been induced to cross a letter slie was sending to a rela- 
 tive in England with this strawberry ink, but not having 
 taken the precaution to fix the colour, when the anxiously 
 expected epistle arrWed, one-half of it proved quite un- 
 intelligible, the colours having faded nearly to white ; so 
 that instead of afibrding satisfaction, it proved only a 
 source of vexation and embarrassment to the reader, and 
 of mortification to the writer. 
 
 The blood-root, sanguinaria, .>r puccoon, as it is termed 
 by some of the native tribes, h worthy of attention from 
 the root to the flower. As soon as the sun of April has 
 warmed the earth and loosened it from its frozen bonds, 
 you may distinguish a number of purely white buds ele- 
 
ViOLKTS, 
 
 JSl 
 
 vated on a naked footstalk, and partially enfolded in a 
 handsome vine-shupcd leaf, of a pale bluisii urocn, curi- 
 ously veined on the nnder side with pale orange. The 
 leaf sj)rinirs singly from u thick juicy tibrous root, which, 
 on boinu: broken, emits a quantity of liquor from its 
 ])ores of a bright orange-scarlet colour : this juice is used 
 by the Indians as a dye, and also in the cure of rheu- 
 matic and cutaneous complaints. The flowers of the 
 sanguinaria resemble the white crocus very closely : 
 when it first comes up the bud is supported by the leaf, 
 and is folded together with it ; the flower, however, soon 
 elevates itself above its protector, while the leaf, having 
 performed its duty of guardian to the tender bud, expands 
 tu its full size. A rich black vegetable mould at the 
 cflges of the clearings seems the favourite soil for this 
 plant. 
 
 The scarlet columbine is another of my favourite 
 flowers ; it is bright red, with yellow linings to tiie 
 tubes. The nectaries are more elongated than the 
 garden columbines, and form a sort of mural crown, sur- 
 mounted with little balls at the tips. A tall graceful 
 plant, with its brilliant waving blossoms, is this colum- 
 bine ; it grows both in the sunshine and the shade, not 
 perhaps in deep shady woods, but where the under- 
 brush has been removed by the running of the fire or 
 the axe of the chopper : it seems even to flourish in y)oor 
 stony soils, and may be found near every dwelling. 
 The feathered cohmibine delights in moist open swamps 
 and the banks of rivulets ; it grows to the height of 
 three, and even four and five feet, and is very orna- 
 mental. 
 
 Of violets, we have every variety of colour, size, and 
 shape, looking only the delightful viola odorata of our 
 home woodlands : yet I know not why we should quarrel 
 with these meek daughters of the spring because they 
 want the fragrance of their more favoured sisters. Many 
 of your wood-violets, though very beautiful, are also 
 devoid of scent ; here variety of colour ought to make 
 some amends for want of perfume. We have violets of 
 every shade of blue, some veined with purple, others 
 
 i8 
 
 Ipll 
 
 |r, ; 
 
 k I 
 
 III 
 
 ■41: 1 
 
 ^0 
 
M0i 
 
 
 J , 
 
 
 '^ .■■ i- 
 
 f; 
 
 •] 
 
 
 ■;.r 
 
 11 
 
 ,: 1"'. 
 
 
 If..: 
 
 182 
 
 BACKWOODS OP CANADA. 
 
 shaded with darker blue. We have the delicate white, 
 j)f»rK'illcd with purple ; the bright brimstone coloured 
 with black veinings ; the pale primrose with dark blue 
 veins — the two latter arc remarkable for the luxuriance 
 and size of the leaves : the flowers spring: in bunches, 
 several from each joint, and are siiccrede<l by large 
 capsules covered with tliick white cottony down. There 
 is a species of violet thut g-rows in the woods, the leaves 
 of which are exceedingly large ; so arc the seed-vessels, 
 but the flower is so small and insignificant, that it is only 
 to be observed by a close examination of the ])lant ; this 
 has given rise to the vulgar belief that it blooms under 
 iTound. The flowers are a pale greenish yellow. 
 Bryant's beautiful poem of the Yellow Violet is uescrip- 
 tive of the first-mentioned violet. 
 
 There is an elegant viola tricolor that blooms in the 
 autumn : it is the size of a small heart's-ease, and is pure 
 white, pale purple, and lilac; the upper petals are white, 
 the lower lip purple, and the side wings a reddish lilac. 
 I was struck with the elegance of this rare flower on a 
 journey to Peterborough, on my way to Cobourg ; I was 
 unable to preserve the specimens, and have not travelled 
 that road since. The flower grew among w ild clover on 
 the or en side of the road ; the leaves were small, roundish, 
 and of i\ dark sad green. 
 
 Of the tall shrubby asters, we have several beautiful 
 varieties, with large pale blue, lilac, or white flowers; 
 others with very small white flowers and crimson anthers, 
 which look like tufts of red down spangled with gold- 
 dust ; these anthers have a pretty eflect contrasted with 
 the white starry petals. There is one variety of the tall 
 asters that I have seen on the plains, it has flowers about 
 the size of a sixpence, of a soft pearly tint of blue, with 
 brown anthers ; this plant grows very tall, and branches 
 from the parent stem in many graceful flowery boughs ; 
 the leaves of this species are of a purple red on the under 
 side, and inclining to heart-shape ; the leaves and stalks 
 are hairy, 
 
 I am not afraid of wearying you with my floral sketches, 
 I have yet many to describe ; among these are those 
 
i. 
 
 le delicate white, 
 imstone coloured 
 e with dark blue 
 ['or the luxuriance 
 irinpr in bunches, 
 'C'cede<i by large 
 iiy down. There 
 woods, the leaves 
 I the soed-vessels, 
 mt, tiiat it is only 
 )t' the plant ; this 
 it blooms under 
 [rrcenish vellow. 
 Violet is uescrip- 
 
 at blooms in the 
 -ease, and is pure 
 r petals are white, 
 IS a reddish lilac, 
 rare flower on a 
 Cobourg ; I was 
 lave not travelled 
 \g wild clover on 
 small, roundish, 
 
 several beautiful 
 white flowers; 
 crimson anthers, 
 gled with gold- 
 contrasted with 
 ariety of the tall 
 las flowers about 
 nt of blue, with 
 11, and branches 
 flowery boughs ; 
 red on the under 
 eaves and stalks 
 
 y floral sketches, 
 these are those 
 
 WINTER-G KEEN'S. 
 
 183 
 
 elegant little evergreens that abound in this ronntr}', 
 under the name of winter-greens, of which there are throe 
 or four rc!iiarkable for beauty of foliage, flower, and fruit. 
 One of these winter-greens that al)()unds in our pine- 
 woods is extremely beautiful ; it seldom exceed?? six 
 inches in height; the leaves are a bright shining 
 green, of a long narrow oval, delicately notched like 
 the edges of a rose-leaf; and the plant emerges ihmi 
 beneath the snow in the early ])art of the year, as soon 
 as the flrst thaw takes place, as fresh and verdant as be- 
 fore they were covered up : it seems to be a shy 
 blossomer. I have never seen ^specimens of the flowers 
 in bloom but twice ; these I ca? "illy preserved for you, 
 but the dried plant will aflbrd an imperfect idea of 
 
 the original. You always called, you know, your dried 
 specimens corpses of plants, and said, that when well 
 painted, their representations were far more like them- 
 selves. The flower-stalk rises two or three inches from 
 the centre of the plant, and is crowned with round 
 crimson buds and blossoms, consisting of five petals, 
 deepening from the palest pink to the brightest l)hish 
 colour ; the stigma is of an emerald greenness, forming a 
 slightly ribbed turban in the centre, around which are 
 disposed ten stamens of an amethyst colour : in short, this 
 is one of the gems of the floral world, and might aj)tly 
 be compared to an emerald ring, set round with ameti)ysts. 
 The contrast of colours in this flower is exceedin"lv 
 pleasing, and the crimson buds and shining ever-green 
 leaves are scarcely less to be admired than the flower 
 itself: it would be considered a great acquisition to your 
 collection of American shrubs, but I doubt if it would 
 flourish when removed from the shade of the pine-woods. 
 This plant appears to be the Chlmnphila corymbosa, or 
 winter-green, described by Pursh, with some trifling 
 variation in the colour of the petals. 
 
 Another of our winter-greens grows in abundance on 
 the Rice-Lake plains : the plant does not exceed four 
 inches; the flowers are in little loose bunches, ])alo 
 greenish white, in shape like the blossom of the arbutus ; 
 the berries are bright scarlet, and are known by the name 
 
 If 
 
 'I.I 
 
 
 
 
 It ' 
 
 • 
 
 
 m 
 ■4\ 
 
 r.f 
 
 11 i 
 
 li 
 
 iiti 
 
 :Si 
 
 \\ 
 
 il 
 
^ \^ ^> 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-S) 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 f^ ^ 12.2 
 
 11:25 Ofll 1.4 
 
 M 
 
 I^li4 
 
 <,%> 
 
 ^. 
 
 y 
 
 
 Photographic 
 
 ^Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 23 WIST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. I4SS0 
 
 (716) •73-4503 
 
 ^^1 
 
 fV 
 
 ^ 
 
 %^ 
 
 <^ 
 
 
 
 ;\ 
 
 '^ 
 
',. f 
 
 .'.''4 
 
 .' ■< ' , ■ 
 
 f^; 
 
 184 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 of wintcr-bcrry and partridge-berry ; this niust be Guul- 
 titer id procvmhens. Hut a more beautiful little cvcTprrcon 
 of the same species is to be found in our cedar swamps, 
 under the name of pigeon-berry ; it resembles the arbutus 
 in leaf and flower more closely than the former j>lant ; 
 tiie scarlet berry is inserted in w scarlet cup or receptacle, 
 divided at the edge in five points ; it is fleshy, seemiii|r 
 to piirtake of the same nature as the fruit. Tiie blosso!ji.> 
 ol' tiiis elegant little shrub, like the arbutus, of which it 
 looks like the miniature, appear in drooping bunches at 
 the same time the rij)ened berry of the former year is in 
 perfection ; this circumstance adds not a little to the 
 charm of the plant. If 1 mistake not, this is the Guul- 
 tlicria Shallon^ which Pursh likens to the arbutus : this is 
 also one of our winter-greens. 
 
 There is another j)retty trailing plant, with delicate 
 little funnel-shaped flowers, and a profusion of small dark 
 green round buds, slightly variegated, and bright red 
 berries, which are produced at the extremities of the 
 branches. The blossoms of this plant grow in pair>, 
 closely connected at the germen ; so much so, that the 
 scarlet fruit that supersedes the flowers appears like a 
 double berry, each berry containing the seeds of both 
 flowers and a double eye. The plant is also called winter- 
 green or twin-berry ; it resembles none of the other 
 winter-greens ; it grows in mossy woods, trailing along 
 the ground, appearing to delight in covering little hil- 
 locks and inequalities of the ground. In elegance of 
 growth, delicacy of flower, and brightness of berry, thi? 
 winter-green is little inferior to any of the former. 
 
 There is a plant in our woods, known by the names of 
 man-drake, may -apple, and duck's-foot: the botanical 
 name of the plant is Podophyllum ; it belongs to the class 
 and order Polyandria monoyynia. The blossom is yel- 
 lowish white, the corolla consisting of six petals; the 
 fruit is oblong ; when ripe, of a greenish yellow ; in size 
 that of an olive or large damson ; when fully ripe it has 
 the flavour of preserved tamarind, a pleasant brisk acid ; 
 it appears to be a shy bearer, though it increases rapidly 
 in rich moist woodlands. The leaves come up singly, 
 
5t be Guai- 
 
 V cvLTffrcen 
 ir swamps, 
 the arl)utus 
 mcr ])lant ; 
 recoptacle, 
 ly, st'einin*^ 
 le blossoms 
 of w liic-h it 
 bunches at 
 • year is in 
 Itle to the 
 
 the Gfiul- 
 itus : this is 
 
 ih delicate 
 
 small dark 
 
 bright red 
 
 tics of the 
 
 V in pairs, 
 3, that the 
 ears like a 
 Is of both 
 ed winter- 
 
 the other 
 ling^ along 
 
 little hii- 
 iegance of 
 bcrr), thir 
 ner. 
 e names of 
 
 botanical 
 to the cla.<:s 
 ;oin is yel- 
 3tals ; the 
 AV ; in size 
 ripe it has 
 )risk acid ; 
 5es rai)idly 
 up singly, 
 
 LILIES. 
 
 1S5 
 
 I 
 
 are palmatcd, and shade the ground very much when a 
 number of them grow near each other; the stalk sup- 
 ports the leaf from the centre ; when they first appear 
 above the ground, they resemble a folded und)rella or 
 iarasol, all the edges of the leaves bending downward, 
 )y degrees expanding into a slightly convex canopy. The 
 fruit would make a delicate preserve with sugar. 
 
 The lily tribe oliers an extensive vari(My I'rom the most 
 minute to the very largest tlowers. The red nuirtagou 
 grows abundantly on our plains ; the dog's-tooth viitlet, 
 ErythnmUnn, with its spottcl leaves and bending yellow 
 blossom, delicately dashed with crimson spots within, 
 and marked with line purple lines on the outer part of 
 the petal, |)roves a great attra(!tion in our woods, where 
 these plants increase: they form u biaulilid bed; the 
 leaves come up singly, one from each separate tuber. 
 There are two varieties of this llower, the jjah? yellow, 
 with neither spots nor lines, and the deep yellow with 
 bi)th ; the anthers of this last are reddish-orange, and 
 thieklv covered with a fine i)Owderv sid)staiice. 'J'hc 
 datlbdil of our woods is a delicate bending flower, of u 
 pale yellow ; the leaves grow up the Howcr-stalk at in- 
 tervals ; three or more flowers usually succeed each other 
 at the extremity of the stalk : its height is from six to 
 eight inches ; it delights in the deep shade of moist 
 woods. This seems to unite the description of the jonquil 
 and datlbdil. 
 
 A very beautiful plant of the lily tribe abounds both in 
 our woods and clearings ; for want of a better name, I 
 call it the douri-lily, though it is w idely spread over a great 
 portion of the continent. The Americans term the white 
 and red varieties of this species the " white*' aiul '* red 
 death." The flower is either deep red or of a dazzling 
 white, though the latter is often found staiiu,Ml with a 
 delicate blush-pink or a deep green ; the latter aj)pears 
 to be caused by the ealix running into the petal. VV iiere- 
 fore it bears so formidable a name has not yet transpired. 
 The flower consists of three j)etals, the calix three ; it 
 belongs to the class and order Hexandria mono<iyma ; 
 style, three-cleft; seed-vessel of three valves; soil, dry 
 
 I 
 
 ii 
 
 \ 
 
 I 
 
 } 
 
 * 1 L III 
 
 'if'i 
 
 ! 
 
 II 
 
 ,f J 
 
 II. 
 
 :i 
 
 I 
 
 V 
 
 ,1 
 
 ■ii 
 

 ISO 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 ir^7 f ■ 
 
 m 
 
 ': •. ■ , 
 
 '' 
 
 ♦ 
 
 
 ' ' . 
 
 ■ « 
 
 i''- 
 
 '#■ 
 
 ■ir ' •> 
 
 • ( 
 
 
 ;-.»;■'■ 
 
 
 t "■ ;■ ' 
 
 
 P'' '^ 
 
 
 
 ■m 
 
 woods and cleared lands ; leaves grrowing in three, sprinnr- 
 ing from the joints, large round, but a li'tle pointed at 
 the extremities. 
 
 We have lilies of the valley, and their cousins the So- 
 lomon's seals, a small flowered turk's-cap, of pale prim- 
 rose colour, with an endless variety of small flowers of 
 the lily tribe, remarkable lor beauty of foliage or delicacy 
 of form. 
 
 Our ferns are very elegant and numerous ; I have no 
 less than eight diflierent specimens, gathered from our 
 immediate neighbourhood, some of which are extremely 
 elegant, especially one that I call the *' fairy fern," from 
 its lightness. One elastic stem, of a purplish red co- 
 lour, supports several light branches, which are subdivided 
 and furnished with innumerable leaflets ; each leaflet has a 
 footstalk, that attaches it to l.ie branch, of so slight and 
 hair-like a substance that the least breath of air sets the 
 whole plant in motion. 
 
 Could we but imagine Canada to have been the scone 
 of fairy revels, we should declare that these graceful 
 fei-ns wore well suited to shade the elfin court of Oberon 
 and Titania. 
 
 When this fern first appears above the ground, it is 
 scarcely to be distinguished from the decaying wood of 
 the fallen pines ; it is then of a light reddish brown, 
 curiously curled up. In May and June the leaves un- 
 fold, and soon assume the most delicate tint of erreen ; 
 they are almost transparent : the cattle are very fond of 
 this fern. 
 
 The mocassin flower or lady's-slipper (mark the odd 
 coincidence between the common name of the American 
 and English species) is one of our most remarkable 
 flowers, both on account of its beauty and its singularity ot 
 structure. Our plains and dry sunny pastures jn-oduce 
 several varieties; among these, the Ci/pripediwn ptihe- 
 scens, or yellow mocassin, and the C. Arietinum, are the 
 most beautiful of the species. The colour of the lip of 
 the former is a lively canary yellow, dashed with deep 
 crimson spots. The upper petals consist of two short 
 and two long, in texture and colour resembling the sheath 
 
 ( /I 
 

 MOCASSIN FLOWERS. 
 
 187 
 
 tiree, sprinir- 
 e pointed at 
 
 usins the So- 
 f pale piim- 
 11 flowers of 
 ;e or delicacy 
 
 ; I have no 
 ed from our 
 re extremely 
 y fern," from 
 ilisli red co- 
 •e subdivided 
 1 leaflet has a 
 !o sli^rht and 
 ■ air sets the 
 
 E?n the scene 
 ese graceful 
 rt of Oberon 
 
 nrround, it is 
 dng wood of 
 dish brown, 
 ic leaves un- 
 it of erreen ; 
 very fond of 
 
 irk the odd 
 
 le American 
 
 remarkable 
 
 ingularity ot 
 
 res ])roduce 
 
 ^diwn puhe- 
 
 um, are the 
 
 )f the lip of 
 
 with deep 
 
 two short 
 
 the sheath 
 
 
 of some of the narcissus tribe ; the short ones stand erect, 
 like a pair of cars ; the long or lateral pair are three times 
 the length of the former, very narrow, and elegantly 
 twisted, like the spiral horns of the Walachian ram : on 
 raising a thick yellow fleshy sort of lid, in the middle of 
 the flower, you i)erceive the exact face of an Indian 
 hound, perfect in all jwrts— the eyes, nose, and mouth ; 
 bolow this depends an o])en sac, slightly gathered round 
 at the opening, which gives it a hollow and prominent 
 a|)pearance ; the inside of this bag is delicately dashed 
 vith deep crimson or black sjxits : the stem of the flower 
 is thick towards the upper part, and takes a direct bend ; 
 the leaves are large oval, a little pointed and ribbed ; the 
 plant scarcely exceeds six inches : the elegant colour and 
 silken texture of the lower lip or bag renders this flower 
 very much more beautiful to my taste than the purple and 
 white variety, though the latter is much more striking 
 on account of the size of the flower and leaves, besides 
 the contrast between the white and red or white and 
 purple colours. 
 
 The formation of this species resembles the other, only 
 with this dirterence, the horns are not twisted, and the 
 face is that of a monkey ; even the comical expression of 
 tiie animal is preserved with such admirable fidelity, as 
 to draw a smile from every one that sees the odd restless- 
 looking visage, with its j)rominent round black eyes peer- 
 ing forth from under its covering. 
 
 These plants belong to class and order Gynandria 
 diandria ; are described with some little variation by 
 Pursh, who, however, likens the face of the latter to 
 that of a sheep : if a sheep sat for the picture, me- 
 thinks it must have been the most mischievous of the 
 flock. 
 
 There is a curious aquatic plant that grows in shallow, 
 stagnant, or slow-flowing waters ; it will contain a full 
 wine-glass of water. A poor soldier brought it to me, 
 and told me it resembled a plant he used to see in Egypt, 
 that the soldiers called the '' Soldier's drinking-cup ;" 
 and many a good draught of pure water, he said, I have 
 drunk from them. 
 
 ■i 
 
 > 
 
 i 
 
 lit 
 
 ■ \ 
 
 f 
 

 
 < 
 
 V ■ 
 
 h' 
 
 f^ 
 
 
 
 rl 
 
 ■1:." 
 i'liflii 
 
 188 
 
 HACK WOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 Another specimen was j)resentcd nie by a gentleman, 
 wlio knew my ])reililection for strange plants ; he very 
 a])tly gave it the name of" Pitcher-jjiant ;'* it very pro- 
 bably Ix'Iongs to the tribe that bears that name. 
 
 The flowers that atibrii the most decided perfumes are 
 our wild roses, which possess a delicious sc(Mit ; the niilk- 
 weed, which gives out a smell not unlike the night-blow- 
 ing stock ; the purple monarda, which is fragrance itself 
 from the root to the flower, and even after months' ex- 
 posure to the wintry atmos])h<TC its dried leaves and 
 seed-vessels arc so sweet as to impart perfume to your 
 hands or clothes. All our Mints are strong-scented : thr? 
 lily of the valley is remarkable for its tine smell ; then 
 there is my queen of the lakes, and her consort, the 
 water-king, witli many other flowers I cannot now 
 enumerate. Certain it is that among such a vast assem- 
 blage of flowers, there are, comparatively, \cry few that 
 are gifted with fragrant scents. Sotneofour forest-trees 
 give out a line ])erl"nme. I have often paused in niv 
 walks to inhale the fragrance from a cedar-swamp on souic 
 sunny day while the boughs were still wet with the dew- 
 drops or recently fallen shower. 
 
 Nor is the balsam- poplar, or tacamahac, less delight- 
 fully fragrant, especially while the gummy buds are just 
 beginning to unfold : this is an elegant-growing tree, 
 where it has room to expand into boughs. It grows 
 chiefly on the shores of the lakes and in open swamps, 
 but it also forms one of the attractions of our plains, 
 with its silver bark and waving foliage ; it emits a 
 resinous clear gum in transj)arent globules on the bark, 
 and the buds are covered with a highly aromatic gummy 
 fluid. 
 
 Our Grasses arc highly interesting ; there are varieties 
 that are wholly new to me, and, when dried, form the most 
 elegant ornaments to our chimney-pieces, and would look 
 very graceful on a lady's head ; only fashionists always 
 prefer the artificial to the natural. 
 
 One or two sj)ecies of grass that I have gathered bear 
 a close but of course minute resemblance to the Indian 
 corn, having a top feather and eight-sided spike of little 
 
GRASSES. 
 
 189 
 
 grains disposed at^hc side-joints. The sisi/rhirhtum, or 
 blue-eyed grass, is a pretty little flower of an azure blue, 
 with golden spots at the base of each ])etul ; the leaves 
 are flat, stitf, and flag-like ; this pretty flower grows in 
 tufts on light sandy soils. 
 
 I have given you a description of the flowers most 
 worthy of attention ; and, though it is very probable some 
 of my descriptions may not be exactly in the technical 
 language of the correct botanist, I have at least described 
 thcni as they appear. 
 
 My dear boy seems already to have a taste for flowers, 
 which I shall encourage as much possible. It is a study 
 that tends to refine and purify the mind, and can be made, 
 by simple steps, a ladder to heaven, as it were, by teach- 
 ing a child to look with love and admiration to that 
 bountiful (lod who created and made flowers so fair to 
 adorn and fructify this earth. 
 
 Farewell, my dear sister. 
 
 "•t I 
 
 ^W: 
 
 M 
 
 . ii 
 
 ^!l 
 
 

 
 190 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 
 M' 
 
 
 •^m. 
 
 ii > 
 
 m' "" -'■ • 
 
 ?r^ 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 1 "^ 
 
 
 Letter XV. 
 
 Recapitulation of various Topics. — Progress of Settlement.— 
 Canada, the Land of Hope. — V'isit to the Family of a 
 Naval Officer. — Squirrels. — Visit to, and Story of, an 
 Emigrant Clergyman. — His early Difficulties. — The Tem- 
 per, Disposition, and Habits of Emigrants essential Ingre- 
 dients in Failure or Success. 
 
 September 20, 1834. 
 
 I PBOMiSKD when I parted from you before I left Eng- 
 land to write as soon as I could ^^ive you any satisfactory 
 account of our settlement in this country. 1 shall do my 
 best to redeem tliat promise, and ibrward you a slight 
 sketch of our proceedings, with such remarks on the 
 natural features of the place in which we have fixed our 
 abode, as 1 think likely to afibrd you interest or amuse- 
 ment. Prepare your patience, then, my dear friend, for 
 a long and rambling epistle, in wiiich I may possibly 
 prove somewhat of a VVill-o'-the-wisj), and having made 
 you follow me in my desultory wanderings — 
 
 Over hill, over dale. 
 
 Through bush, tlirough briar, 
 
 Over park, over pale. 
 Through flood, through fire, — 
 
 possibly leave you in the midst of a big cedar-swamp, or 
 among the pathless mazes of our wild woods, without a 
 clue to guide you, or even a blaze to light you on your 
 way. 
 
 You will have heard, through my letters to my dear 
 mother, of our safe arrival at Quebec, of my illness at 
 Montreal, of all our adventures and misadventures during 
 
RECAPITULATION OP VARIOUS TOl'ICS. 
 
 191 
 
 our jotirnoy up the country, till after much weary wan- 
 •lorin^' wc Hnally found a lioino and restinc^-place with a 
 kind relative, whom it was our haj)pines:? to meet after a 
 
 Reparation of many years. 
 
 As my husband was anxious to settle in the ncijrhbour- 
 
 |hood of one so nearly connected with mc, thinkinj^ it 
 vould rob the woods of some of the loneliness that most 
 
 I women complain so bitterly of, he purchased a lot of land 
 m the shores of a beautiful lake, one of a chain of small 
 
 I lakes beloniring to the Otanabec river. 
 Here, then, we are established, havinc: now some five- 
 
 land-twenry acres cleared, and a nice house built. Oar 
 
 |«it'uition is very aq-reeable, and each day increases its 
 alue. When we first came up to live in tlie bush, with 
 
 I the exception of S , here were but tMo or three 
 
 |>ettlers near us, and no roails cut out. The only road 
 that was available for brincinjr U[) g-oods from the nearest 
 
 I town was on the opposite side of the water, whicii was 
 bligred to be crossed on a lop: or a birch-bark canoe ; the 
 
 liormer is nothing better than a lar^e j)ine-log hollowed 
 litii the axe, so as to contain three or four persons ; it 
 
 lis tlat-bottomed, and very narrow, on which account it is 
 auch used on these shallow waters. The birch canoe 
 i made of sheets of birch bark, injreniously fashioned 
 and sewn tonjether bv the Indians with the touirh roots 
 of the cedar, younjj^ pine, or larch ( .iiaarack, as it is 
 termed by the Indians) ; it is exceeding'y light, so that 
 it can be carried by two persons easily, or even by one. 
 These, then, were our ferry-boats, and very frail they 
 ire, and require great nicety in their management ; they 
 
 pre worked in the water with paddles, either kneeling 
 or standing. The squaws are very expert in the manage- 
 nient of the canoes, and preserve their balance with 
 
 liJniirable skill, standing up while they impel the little 
 
 |t)ark with great velocity through the water. 
 Very great is the change that a few years have effected 
 
 la our situation. A number of highly respectable settlers 
 nave purchased land along the shores of these lakes, so 
 
 Ithat we no longer want society. The roads are now cut 
 
 fceveral miles above us, and though far from 'rood, cnn be 
 
 ft 
 
 ii 
 
 :[ 
 .; i 
 
 
 S9^ 
 
I' 
 
 ■<• « 
 
 I 
 
 iW- 
 
 m I 
 
 mm 
 
 192 
 
 UACKWOOl^S OF CANADA. 
 
 travelled by wagrgons and sleighs, and arc, at all events, 
 better than none. 
 
 A village has started np wlierc formerly a thick |>ino- 
 wood covert (1 the ground; we have now within a shortl 
 distance of ns an excellent saw-mill, a grist-mill, aiidl 
 store, with a large tavern and many good dwellings. aI 
 fine timber bridge, on stoiu; |)iers, was erecte<l lust yoarl 
 to connect the opposite tovvn.shii)s and lessen the distaiicof 
 to and from Peterborough ; and though it was unroriu-l 
 nately svve|»t away early last spring by the unusual risinirf 
 of the Otanabee lakes, a new and more substantial one 
 lias risen upon the ruins of the former, through thol 
 activity of an enterprising young Scotchman, the founder! 
 of the village. 
 
 But the grand work that is, sooner or later, to raijc] 
 this ])ortion of the district from its present obscurity, U 
 the opening a line of navigation from Lake Huron throufihl 
 Lake Simcoe, and so through our chain of small lakes to| 
 Rice Lake, and finally through the Trent to the IJuy of 
 Quinte. This nol)le work would jMove of incalculal)le| 
 advantage, by opening a direct connnunication betwcfiJ 
 Lake Huron and the inland townshi})S at the back of thel 
 Ontario with the St. Lawrence. This project liasl 
 already been under the consideration of the Governor,! 
 and is at ])resent exciting great interest in the country;! 
 sooner or later there is little doubt but that it will h 
 carried into effect. It presents some difficulties an* 
 expense, but it would be greatly to the advantage ani 
 prosperity of the country, and be the means of settlin: 
 many of the back townships bordering upon these lakes 
 
 I mnst leave it to abler i)ersons than myself to discii-s| 
 at large tlie policy and expediency of the measure ; but 
 as I suppose you have no intention of emigrating to our 
 backwoods, you will be contented with ray cursory viowl 
 of the matter, and believe, as in friendship you arc 
 bound to do, that it is a desirable thing to open a marke^ 
 for inland produce, 
 
 Canada is the land of hope : here everything is new; 
 everything going forward ; it is scarcely possible ioB 
 arts, sciences, agriculture, manufactures, to retrograde] 
 
 lop, 
 
J>nnGR£S.S Ol' SLri'LKMl.NT. 
 
 1C3 
 
 to retro crane 
 
 thoy must krop udvancinpr ; thouL^h in somo shiiation.^ 
 Ill*' prof-Tprs may ^uem slow, in others tiny are |)n»i»ur- 
 uuiiatcly rapid. 
 
 I'Ikmv is a constant cxeitoinrnt on the iniiulsofnni- 
 
 Icr.ints, particularly in the ])artially scttlitl to\vnshij).s, 
 
 ihat jrreatly assists in keepiiijr thrni from «li-;po!i<lin:r. 
 
 Tiie arrival of some enterprisincr person jrivcs a stimulus 
 
 to those about him : a proHta!)le sj)ecul;iti()n is started, 
 
 liiKl.lo I the value of the land in the vicinity rises to double 
 
 Liiid trel)le what it was thouLflit worth before; so that, 
 
 •viihout any dcsij^n of In'fritndinir his iiriLrhiKJiirs, the 
 
 I « 'hemes of one settler beinir carried into cifect shall 
 
 ioncHt a «rrcat numi)er. We have alre.idy felt the 
 
 Itit'ijeHcial etlcct of the accH'ss of respcctal)lc emiu rants 
 
 locating' themselves in this township, as it has already 
 
 I increased the value of our own land in a three-fold 
 
 li'irree. 
 
 All this, my dear friend, you will say, is very well, 
 
 L:i(l might aH'ord subject for a wise discussion between 
 
 krave men, but will hardly anuise us women ; so, pray 
 
 ;iirn to some other theme, and just tell me how you con- 
 
 hrive to pass your time amont^ the bears and wolves of 
 
 Canada. 
 
 I One lovely day last June I went by water to visit the 
 
 bride of a younjr naval otHcer, who had purchased a very 
 
 I pretty lot of land some two miles hiirher up the lake; 
 
 our party consisted of my husband, liaby, and myself; 
 
 we met a few pleasant friends, and enjoyed our excursion 
 
 aiuch. Dinner was laid out in the stoujt, which, as you 
 
 |::uiy not know what is meant by the word, I nuist tell 
 
 you that it means a sort of wide veranda, suj)})orte(l on 
 
 pillars, often of unbarked lo^s ; the floor is either of 
 
 I'iirth beaten hard or of plank ; the roof covered with 
 
 sheets of bark or else shingled. These stoups are of 
 
 Dutch origin, and were introduced, I have been told, by 
 
 the first Dutch settlers in the States, since which they 
 
 [iiave found their way all over the colonies. 
 
 Wreathed with the scarlet creeper, a native plant of 
 our woods and wilds, the wild vine, and also with the 
 hop, which here grows luxuriantly, with no labour or 
 
 H ; 
 
 r U 
 
 If 
 
 I 
 
 .ii 
 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
'I 
 
 { ,• 
 
 194 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA 
 
 .'i 
 
 m^M 
 
 * , 
 
 
 attention to its rultiirc, tliosc stoups have a very rui-al 
 aj)praranrc ; in sunimor servin;; tlie jHirposo of un o|K>n 
 anto-room, in winch you can take your meals and cujovj; 
 the fanning breeze without beinjf inconvenienced by the 
 extreme lieat of the noon-day sun. 
 
 The situation of* the house was remarkably well chosen, 
 just on the summit of a little elevated plain, th(^ ffrouml 
 sloping with a steep descent to a little valley, at tin- 
 bottom of which a bri^dit rill ol' water dividt^d the garden 
 from the oj)posite corn-fieh!s, which clothed a corrc- 
 spending bank. 1 ntVont of the stoup, where w(; dined, 
 the garden was laid out with a smootli j)lot of grass, sur- 
 rounded with borders of flow(»rs, and separated Iruin a 
 ripening field of wheat by a light railed fence, over which 
 the luxuriant hop-vine flimg its tendrils and graceful 
 blossoms. Now 1 must tell you the hop is cultivated for 
 the j)urpose of making a barm for raising bre;id. Asyou 
 take great interest in housewifery concerns, 1 shall send 
 you areci[)e for what we call hop-rising.* 
 
 The Yankees use a fermentation of suit, flour, and 
 warm water or milk ; but though the salt-risliKj makes 
 beautiful bread to look at, being i'ar whiter and tinner 
 than the ho[)-yeast bread, there is a peculiar flavour im- 
 j)arted to the flour that does not j)lease every one's taste. 
 and it is very diflicult to get your salt-rising to work in 
 very cold weather. 
 
 And now, having digressed while I gave you my 
 recipes, I shall step back to my })arty within the stoup, 
 which, I can assure you, was very pleasant, and most 
 cordially disposed to enjoy the meeting. We had books 
 and drawings, and good store of pretty Indian toys, the 
 collection of many long voyages to distant shores, to look 
 at and admire. Soon after sun-set we walked down 
 through the woods to the landing at the lake shore, 
 where we I'ound our bark canoe ready to convey us home. 
 
 During our voyage, just at the head of the rapids, our 
 attention was drawn to some small object in the water, 
 moving very swiftly along ; there were various opinions 
 
 * See Appendix. 
 
!i 
 
 RKD SQUIRREL 
 
 105 
 
 t 
 
 as to the swimmer, some thinking it to ho a wator-fjnnkc, 
 ((thors a scjuirrcl or a miisk-rut; u few swift strokes ot* 
 the paddles hroupht us up so as to intorcopt the passairc 
 of the little voyairer ; it proved to he a fine red scpiirrel, 
 bound on a voyage ot* diseovery from a neiglilMMiring 
 island. The little animal, with a eourago and address 
 that astonished his [uirsuers, instead of src^king safety in 
 adifteront direction, sprang lightly on the point of the 
 uplifted pa<idle, an<i from thence with a bomnl to the 
 head of my astonished hahy, and having gained my 
 shoulder, leaped again into the water, and made direct 
 for the shore, never having d<'viated a single point from 
 the line he was swimming in when he first came in 
 sight of our canoe. I was surprise<l and amused by the 
 agility and courage displayed by this innocent creature ; 
 I could hardly have given credence; to the <'rcutnstanec, 
 had 1 not been an eye-witness of its condiict, and more- 
 over been wetted |)lentifully on my shoulder by the 
 sprinkling of w ater from his coat. 
 
 Perhaps you may think my squirrel anecdote incre- 
 dible : but I can vouch for the truth of it on mv own 
 personal experience, as I not only saw but also I'elt it: 
 the black scpiirrels are most lovely and elegant animals, 
 considerably larger than the red, the grey, and the 
 striped : the latter arc called by the Indians ** chit- 
 munks.'* 
 
 We were robbed greatly by these little depredators 
 last sunmier ; the red squirrels used to carry off great 
 quantities of our Indian com not only from the stalks, 
 while the cn)p was ripening, but they even came into 
 the house through some chinks in the log-walls, and 
 carried off vast quantities of the grain, stripping it very 
 adroitly from the cob, and conveying the grain away to 
 their storehouses in some hollow log or subterranean 
 granary. 
 
 These little animals are very fond of the seeds of the 
 pumpkins, and you will sec the soft creatures whisking 
 about among the cattle, carrying away the seeds as they 
 are scattered by the beasts in breaking the pumpkins : 
 they also delight in the seeds of the sunflowers, which 
 

 i; 
 
 I- • f^ 
 
 «<:. 
 
 m 
 
 *>-■ •■■ 
 
 ■^fi 
 
 
 l*i. 
 
 H ; 
 
 ^*?- 
 
 '4^^ 
 
 M-i •{ 
 
 
 
 %'.i" 
 
 1 • 
 
 
 1 j 1 
 
 -1 
 
 
 III' 
 
 iij,j 
 
 y^ 
 
 196 
 
 DACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 grow to a gigantic height in our gardens and clearinsrs. 
 The fowls are remarkably fond of the sunflower-seeds, 
 and I saved the plants with the intention of laying up a 
 good store of winter food for my poor chicks. One day 
 I went to cut t'l? ripe heads, the largest of which was 
 the size of a large dessert-plate, but found two wicked 
 red squirrels busily employed gathering in the seeds, 
 not for me, be sure, but themsolves. Not contented 
 with picking out the seeds, these little thieves dexterously 
 sawed through the stiilks, and conveyed away whole 
 heads at once ; so bold were they that they would not 
 desist when I approached till they had secured their 
 object, and, encumbered with a load twice the weight of 
 their own agile bodies, ran with a swiftness along the 
 rails, and over root, stump, and log, till they eluded my 
 pursuit. 
 
 Great was the indignation expressed by this thrifty 
 little i)air, on returning again for another load, to find the 
 plant divested of the heads. I had cut what remained 
 and put thorn in a basket in the sun, on a small block in 
 the garden, close to the open glass-door, on the steps of 
 which I was sitting shelling some seed-beans, when the 
 squirrels drew my attention to them by their sharp scold- 
 ing notes, elevating their fine feathery tails and express- 
 ing the most lively indignation at the invasion : they 
 were not long before they discovered the Indian basket 
 with the ravished treasure ; a lew rapid movements 
 brought the little pair to the rails within a few paces of 
 me and the sunflower-heads ; here, then, they paused, 
 and sitting up looked in my face with the most imploring 
 gestures. I was too much amused by their perplexity to 
 lielp them, but turning away my head to speak to the 
 child, they darted forward, and in another minute had 
 taken possession of one of the largest of the heads, which 
 they conveyed away, first one carrying it a few yards, 
 then the other, it being too bulky for one alone to carry 
 far at a time. In short, I was so well amused by watching 
 their mana»uvres, that I suffered them to rob me of all my 
 store. I saw a little family of tiny squirrels at play in 
 the spring on the top of a hollow log, and really I think 
 
FLYING-SQUIRRELS. 
 
 197 
 
 nd clearings, 
 flower-seeds, 
 * laying up a 
 s. One day 
 af which was 
 I two wicked 
 n the seeds, 
 ot contented 
 s dexterously 
 away whole 
 ey would not 
 ecured tiieir 
 he weight of 
 ss along the 
 ;y eluded my 
 
 this thrifty 
 d, to find the 
 liat remained 
 nail block in 
 
 the steps of 
 IS, when the 
 
 sharp scold- 
 and express- 
 ^asion : they 
 ndian basket 
 
 naovements 
 few paces of 
 they paused, 
 »st imploring 
 }erplexity to 
 speak to the 
 
 minute had 
 leads, which 
 a few yards, 
 one to carry 
 
 by watching 
 ne of all my 
 at play in 
 lally I thiuk 
 
 they were, without exce])tion, the liveliest, most gracetul 
 creatures I ever looked upon. 
 
 The flying-sipiirrel is a native of our woods, and 
 exceeds in beauty, to my mind, any of the tribe. Its 
 colour is the softest, most delicate tint of grey ; the fur 
 thick and short, and as silken as velvet ; the eyes, like 
 all the squirrel kind, are large, full, and soft; the 
 whiskers and long hair about the nose black ; the meui- 
 branc that assists this little animal in its flight is wliite 
 and delicately soft in texture, like the fur of the chin- 
 chilla ; it forms a ridge of fur between the fore and 
 hind legs ; the tail is like an elegant broad grey feather. 
 I was agreeably surprised by the ajipearance of this 
 exquisite little creature ; the pictures 1 had seen giving 
 it a most inelegant and bat-like look, almost dipgusting. 
 The young ones are easily tamed, and are very playful 
 and affectionate when under confinement. 
 
 Uow my little friend Emily would delight m such a 
 pel ! Tell her if ever I should return to dear old Eng- 
 land, I will try to procure one for her ; but at present 
 she must be contented with the stuffed specimens of the 
 black, red, and striped squirrels wliich I enclose in my 
 ])arcel. 1 wish 1 could ofler you any present more valu- 
 able, but our arts and manufactures being entirely Bri- 
 tish, with the exception of tlie Indians' toys, I should 
 find it a difficult matter to send you anything worth 
 your attention ; therefore I am obliired to have recourse 
 to the natural productions of our woods as tokens of re- 
 membrance to our friends at home., lor it is ever thus v.e 
 speak of the land of our birth. 
 
 You wish to know if 1 am happy and contented in 
 my situation, or if my heart j)ines after my native land. 
 I will answer you candidly, and say that, as far as re- 
 L^ards matters of taste, early association, and all those 
 holy ties of kindred, and old affections that make 
 " home " in all countries, and among all nations in the 
 world, a hallowed spot, I must ever give the preference 
 to Britain. 
 
 On the other hand, a sense of the duties I have 
 chosen, and a feeling of conformity to one's situation, 
 
 •ii 
 

 ^ 
 5 
 
 f-, 
 
 b'H 
 
 
 !•■ • . 
 
 11 
 
 198 
 
 DACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 
 lessen the regret I might be inclined to indulge in. Bo- 
 sides, there are new and delightful ties that bind me to 
 Canada : I have enjoyed much domestic happiness since 
 I came hither ; — and is it not the birthplace of my dear 
 child ? Have I not here first tasted the rapturous de- 
 light arising from maternal feelings ? When my eye 
 rests on my smiling darling, or 1 feel his warm breath 
 upon my cheek, I would not exchange the joy that fills 
 my breast for any pleasure the world could otter nio. 
 *' But this feeling is not confined to the solitude of your 
 Canadian forests, my dear friend," you will say. I 
 know it ; but here there is nothing to interfere with 
 your little nursling. You are not tempted by the plea- 
 sures of a gay world to forget your duties as a mother ; 
 there is nothing to supplant him in your heart ; his 
 presence endears every place ; and you learn to love the 
 spot that gave him birth, and to think with complacency 
 upon the country, because it is his country ; and in look- 
 ing forward to his future welfare you naturally become 
 doubly interested in the place that is one day to be his. 
 
 Perhaps I rather estimate the country by my own 
 feelings ; and when I find, by impartial survey of my 
 present life, that I am to the full as happy, if not really 
 happier, than I was in the old country, 1 cannot but value it. 
 
 Possibly, if I were to enter into a detail of the advan- 
 tages 1 possess, they would appear of a very negative 
 character in the eyes of persons revelling in all the 
 splendour and luxury that wealth could procure, in a 
 country in which nature and art are so eminently favour- 
 able towards what is usually termed the pleasures of life; 
 but I never was a votary at the shrine of luxury or 
 fashion. A round of company, a routine of pleasure, 
 were to me sources of veariness, if not of disgust. 
 " There 's nothing in all this to satisfy ihe heart," says 
 Schiller; and I admit the force of the sentiment. 
 
 1 was too much inclined to spurn with impatience the 
 fetters that etiquette and fashion are wont to impose on 
 society, till they rob its followers of all freedom and in- 
 dependence of will ; and they soon are obliged to live 
 i!or a world that in secret they despise and loathe — for a 
 
 hi 
 
 titxiL^ 
 
ADVANTAGES IN CANADA. 
 
 199 
 
 Ige in. Be- 
 bind me to 
 pincss since 
 of my dear 
 pturous de- 
 en my eye 
 arm breath 
 oy that fills 
 d otter mo. 
 ude of your 
 ill say. I 
 srfere with 
 r the plea- 
 5 a mother ; 
 heart ; his 
 to love the 
 )mplacency 
 nd in look- 
 illy become 
 to be his. 
 »y my own 
 •vey of my 
 f not really 
 jut value it. 
 the advan- 
 •y negative 
 in ail the 
 )cure, in a 
 itly favour- 
 ires of life ; 
 luxury or 
 f pleasure, 
 of disgust, 
 eart," says 
 mt. 
 
 itience the 
 impose on 
 )m and in- 
 ged to live 
 ithe — for a 
 
 world, too, that usually regards them with contempt, be- 
 cause they dare not act with an inde|)endence, which 
 would be crushed directly it was displayed. 
 
 And I must freely confess to you that I do prize and 
 enjoy my present liberty in this country exceedingly : in 
 this we possess an advantage over you, and over those 
 that inhabit the towns and villages in this country, where 
 I see a ridiculous attempt to keep up an ap|)€arance that 
 is quite foreign to the situation of those that practise it. 
 Few, very few, arc the emigrants that come to the colo- 
 nies, unless it is with the view of realizing an indepen- 
 dence for themselves or their children. Those that 
 could attbrd to live in ease at home, believe me, would 
 never expose themselves to the privations and disagree- 
 able consequences of a settler's life in Canada : there- 
 fore, this IS the natural inference we draw, that the 
 emigrant has come hither under the desire and natural 
 hope of bettering his condition, and benefiting a family 
 that he had not the means of settling in life in the home 
 country. It is foolish, then, to launch out in a style of 
 life that every one knows cannot be maintained ; rather 
 ought such persons to rejoice in the consciousness that 
 they can, if they please, live according to their circum- 
 stances, without being the less regarded for the practice 
 of prudence, economy, and industry. 
 
 Now, we bush-settlers are more independent : wc do 
 what we like ; we dress as we find most suitable and 
 most convenient ; we are totally without the fear of any 
 Mr. or Mrs. Grundy ; and having shaken off the tram- 
 mels of Grundyism, we laugh at the absurdity of 
 those who voluntarily forge afresh and hug their 
 chains. 
 
 If our friends come to visit us unexpectedly we make 
 them welcome to our humble homes, and give them the 
 best we have ; but if our fare be inditterent, we otler it 
 with good will, and no apologies are made or expected ; 
 they would be out of place ; as every one is aware of the 
 disadvantages of a new settlement ; and any excuses for 
 want of variety, or the delicacies of the table, would be 
 considered rather in the light of a tacit reproof to your 
 
 k2 
 
 tA 
 
 4 I 
 

 m- 
 
 
 ,' . 
 
 ^ 
 
 r -. '• 
 
 
 ->• 
 
 ;. 
 
 ' 
 
 4 
 
 , ' ■* • 
 
 '' • J 
 
 • . 
 
 
 iffei:f' 
 
 i^i 
 
 
 i' 
 
 f' -i* 
 
 
 ■*' 
 
 «* 
 
 V - 
 
 , 
 
 ^. 'H 
 
 
 
 ¥r 
 
 4 '• 
 
 \; 
 
 200 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 jriicst for having unseasonably put your hospitality to the 
 test. 
 
 Our society is mostly military or naval ; so that Me 
 meet on equal grounds, and are, of course, well acquainted 
 with the rules of good breeding and polite life ; too 
 much so to allow any deviation from those laws that 
 good taste, good sense, and good feeling have established 
 among persons of our class. 
 
 Yet here it is considered by no means derogatory to 
 the wife of an officer or gentleman to assist in the work 
 of the house, or to perform its entire duties, if occasion 
 requires it ^ to understand the mystery of soap, candle, 
 and sugar-making ; to make bread, butter, and cheese, 
 or even to milk her own cows ; to knit and spin, and 
 prepare the wool for the loom. In these matters we 
 hush-ladies have a wholesome disregard of what Mr. or 
 Mrs. So-and-so thinks or says. We pride ourselves on 
 conforming to circumstances ; and as a British officer 
 must needs be a gentleman and his wife a lady, ])er- 
 haps we repose quietly on that incontestable proof of our 
 gentility, and can afford to be useful without injuring it. 
 
 Our husbands adopt a similar line of conduct : the 
 officer turns his sword into a ploughshare, and his lance 
 into a sickle ; and if he be seen ploughing among the 
 stumps in his own field, or chopping trees on his own 
 land, no one thinks less of his dignity, or considers him 
 less of a gentleman, than when he appeared ujM)n parade 
 in all the pride of military etiquette, with sash, sword, 
 and epaulette. Surely this is as it should be in a country 
 where independence is inseparable i'rom industry ; and 
 for this I prize it. 
 
 Among many advantages we in this township possess, 
 it is certainly no inconsiderable one that the lower or 
 working class of settlers are well disposed, and quite 
 free from the annoying Yankee manners that distinguish 
 many of the earlier-settled townships. Our servants are 
 as respectful, or nearly so, as those at home ; nor are 
 they admitted to our tables, or placed on an equality 
 with us, excepting at ** bees," and such kinds of public 
 meetings ; w hen they usually conduct themselves with a 
 
11' 
 
 VISIT TO AN EMIGRANT CLERGYMAN. 
 
 201 
 
 |)roj)riety that would afTord an example to some that call 
 themselves gentlemen, viz., young men who voluntarily 
 throw aside those restraints that society expects tVom 
 persons filling a respectable situation. 
 
 Intemperance is too prevailing a vice among all ranks 
 of people in this country ; but 1 blush to say it belongs 
 most decidedly to those that consider themselves among 
 the better class of emigrants. Let none such complain 
 of the airs of equality displayed towards them by the 
 labouring class, seeing that they degrade themselves be- 
 low the honest, sober settler, however poor. If the sons 
 of gentlemen lower themselves, no wonder if the sons of 
 poor men endeavour to exalt themselves above them in a 
 country where they all meet on equal ground ; and 
 good conduct is the distinguishing mark between the 
 classes. 
 
 Some months ago, when visiting a friend in a distant 
 part of the country, I accompanied her to stay a few 
 days in the house of a resident clergyman, curate of a 
 
 flourishing village in the township of . I wa-s 
 
 struck by the primitive simplicity of the mansion and its 
 inhabitants. vVe were introduced into the little family 
 sitting-room, the floor of which was painted after tlie 
 Yankee fashion, instead of being carpeted ; the walls 
 were of unornamented deal, and the furniture of the 
 room of corresponding plainness. A large spinning- 
 wheel, as big as a cart-wheel, nearly occupied the centre 
 di' the room, at which a neatly dressed matron, of mild 
 and lady-like appearance, was engaged spinning yarn ; 
 her little daughters were knitting beside the fire, while 
 their father was engaged in the instruction of two of his 
 sons ; a third was seated affectionately in a little straw 
 chair between his feet, while a fourth was plying his axe 
 with nervous strokes in the court-yard, casting from time 
 to time wistful glances through the parlour-window at 
 the party within. 
 
 The dresses of the children were of a coarse sort of 
 stuff, a mixture of woollen and thread, the produce of the 
 farm and their mother's praiseworthy industry. The 
 stockings, socks, muifatees and warm comforters were all 
 
 * 
 
 f 
 
 'I 
 ,t 
 
 .1 
 
;h.^--T 
 
 202 
 
 BACKWOODS OJi' CANADA. 
 
 >«i' 
 
 I 
 
 : -i 
 
 :. ■ ■. I 
 
 
 jj 
 
 I*"- * ■) 
 
 ■AT ",' 
 
 • '' 
 
 
 oi' home inanufacture. Hoth girls and boys wore mo- 
 cassins, of Uieir own making : good sonse, industry, and 
 order presided among the members of this little houseliold. 
 
 Both girls and boys seemed to act upon the principle 
 that nothing is disgraceful but that which is immoral and 
 improper. 
 
 Hospitality without extravagance, kindness without 
 insincerity of speech, marked the manners of our worttiy 
 friends. Everything in the house was conducted with 
 attention to prudence and comfort. The living was but 
 small (the income arising from it, I should have said) ; 
 but there was glebe land, and a small dwelling attached 
 to it, and, by dint of active exertion without-doors, and 
 economy and good management within, the family were 
 maintained with respectability : in short, we enjoyed 
 tluring our sojourn many of the comforts of a cleared 
 farm; poultry of every kind, beef of their own killing, 
 excellent nmtton and pork : we had a variety of pre- 
 serves at our tea-table, with honey in the comb, deli- 
 cious butter, and good cheese, with divers sorts of cakes ; 
 a kind of little pancake, made from the Hour of buck- 
 wheat, which are made in a batter, and raised with barm, 
 afterwards dropped into boiling lard, and fried ; also a 
 preparation made of Indian corn-Hour, called supporne- 
 cake, which is fried in slices, and eaten with maple- 
 syrup, were among the novelties of our breakfast-fare. 
 
 1 was admiring a breed of very line Ibwls in the poultry 
 yard one morning, when my friend smiled and said, " I 
 do not know if you will think I came honestly by them.'* 
 
 '* I am sure you did not acquire them by dishonest 
 means," I replied, laughing ; " 1 will vouch for your 
 principles in that respect.'* 
 
 " Well," replied my hostess, *' they were neither 
 given me, nor sold to me, and I did not steal them. I 
 found the original stock in the ibllowing manner. An 
 old black hen most unexpectedly made her apjjearance 
 one spring morning at our door ; we hailed the stranger 
 with surprise and delight; for we could not muster a 
 single domestic fowl among our little colony at that time. 
 We never rightly knew by what means the hen came 
 
KARLY DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 203 
 
 into our possession, but suppose some eniiprrant's family 
 LoiriiT up tiic country must have lost or left her ; she laved 
 ten e'T'TS, and hatched chickens fmni them : from this 
 little brood v.e raised a stock, and soon supplied all our 
 nei<rhbours with fowls. We ])rize the bree<l, not only 
 on account of its fine size, but from the sinjrular, and, as 
 wc thought, providential, manner in which wc obtained it.** 
 
 I was much interested in the slight sketch given by 
 the pastor one evening, as we all assembled round the 
 blazing log-fire, that was ])iled half-way up the chimney, 
 which reared its stone fabric so as to form deep recesses 
 at either side of its abutments. Alluding to his first 
 settlement, he observed, " It was a desolate wilderness 
 of gloomy and unbroken forest-trees when W(; first 
 pitched our tent here : at that time an axe had not been 
 laid to the root of a tree, nor a fire, save by the wander- 
 ing Indians, kindled in these woods. 
 
 ** I can now point out the identical spot where my 
 wife and little ones ate their first meal, and raised 
 their feeble voices in thankfulness to that Almighty and 
 merciful Being who had preserved them through the 
 perils of the deep, and brought them in safety to this 
 vast solitude. 
 
 ** We were a little flock wandering in a great wilder- 
 ness, under the special protection of our mighty Shepherd. 
 
 " I have heard you, my dear young lady," he said, 
 addressing the companion of my visit, " talk of the hard- 
 ships of the bush ; but let me tell you, you know but 
 little of its privations compared with those that came 
 hither some years ago. 
 
 " Ask these, my elder children and my wife, w hat 
 were the hardships of a bush-settler's life ten years ago, 
 and they will tell you it was to endure cold, hunger, and 
 all its accompanying evils ; to know at times the want of 
 every necessary article of food. As to the luxuries and 
 delicacies of life, we saw them not ; — how could we ? 
 we were far removed from the op])ortunity of obtaining 
 these things : potatoes, pork, and flour were our only 
 stores, and often we failed of the two latter before a 
 fresh supply could be procured. We had not mills 
 
 T ! J 
 
 •r.,', 
 
 1i 
 
' 4: 
 
 I'. 
 
 ■ •■'V > 
 
 I 
 
 .y, 
 
 
 tM " 
 
 
 ft^^ 
 
 : J 
 
 
 ii 
 
 
 304 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 nearer than thirteen miles, through roads marked only 
 bv l)!azeti lines ; nor were there at that time anv settlers 
 near us. Now you sec us in a cleared country, surrountieii 
 with flourishing farms and rising villages ; but at the 
 time 1 sj)eak of it was not so : there were no stores < f 
 groceries or goods, no butchers' shops, no ch'ared farms, 
 dairies, nor orchards ; for these things we had to wait 
 with patience till industry sliould raise them. 
 
 " Our fare knew no other variety than salt pork, 
 potatoes, and sometimes bread, for break fiast ; |)ork aiMl 
 potatoes ibr dinner ; pork and potatoes for supper; with 
 a porridge of Indian corn-flour for the children. Some- 
 times we had the change of ])ork without potatoes, and 
 potatoes without pork ; this was the first year's fare ; hj 
 degrees we got a supply of flour of our own growin^j. 
 but bruised into a coarse meal with a hand-mill ; for wo 
 had no water or windmills within many miles of our 
 colony, and good bread was indeed a luxury we did nut 
 often have. 
 
 *' We brought a cow with us, who gave us milk dnrinir 
 the spring and summer; but owing to the wild garlic (a 
 wild herb, common to our woods) on which she fed, her 
 milk was scarcely palatable, and for want of shelter ant! 
 food, she died the following winter, greatly to our sorrow : 
 we learned exj)erience in this and in many other matters 
 at a hard cost ; but now we can profit by it." 
 
 " Did not the difficulties of your first settlement incline 
 yon to despond, and regret that you had evei embarko'! 
 on a life so difibrent to that you had been used to V " I 
 asked. 
 
 *' They might have had that effect had not a higher 
 motive than mere worldly advancement actuated me in 
 leaving my native country to come hither. Look you, it 
 was thus : I had for many years been the pastor of a 
 small village in the mining districts of Cumberland. I 
 was dear to the hearts of my people, and they were my 
 joy and crown in the Lord. A number of my pari.<hioncrs, 
 pressed by poverty and the ludness of the times, resolved 
 on emigrating to Canada. 
 
 *' Urged by a natural and not unlawful desire of 
 
i 
 
 larked only 
 aiiv settlors 
 surrounileii 
 but at tlt(> 
 no stores cf 
 •ared farms, 
 had to wait 
 
 salt pork. 
 : ; j>ork aii<l 
 ipper; with 
 en. Soinc- 
 otatoes, and 
 •*s fare ; 1)t 
 n prowinjr, 
 lill ; for wo 
 iles of our 
 we did not 
 
 milk dnrin;: 
 Id erarlic (a 
 she fed, her 
 shelter and 
 our sorrow : 
 her matter? 
 
 nent incline 
 I embarko'! 
 ed to V " 1 
 
 it a higher 
 ated me in 
 lOok vou, it 
 pastor of Ji 
 >erland. I 
 y were my 
 irishioncrs, 
 ?s, resolved 
 
 desire of 
 
 PHopusrnoN TO kmicirate. 
 
 205 
 
 bettering' their condition, they determined on erossinsf 
 the Atlantic, encouraged by the oHer of c()n>i(ierable 
 grants of wild land, which at that period were freely 
 awarded by Cioverninent to persons desirous of becoming 
 colonists. 
 
 ** liut previous to this undertaking, several of the most 
 respectable came to me, and stated their view s and reasons 
 ibr the momentous step they w ere about to take ; and at 
 the same time besought me in the most moving terms, 
 in the name of the rest of their emigrant friends, to 
 accompany them into the Wilderness of the West, lest 
 they should forget their Lord and Saviour when aban- 
 doned to their own spiritual guidance. 
 
 " At first I was startled at the proposition ; it seemed 
 a wild and visionary scheme ; but by degrees I began to 
 dwell with pleasure on the subject. 1 had few ties 
 beyond my native village ; the income arising from my 
 curacy was too small to make it any great obstacle ; like 
 Goldsmith's curate, I was 
 
 * Passing rich with forty pounds a year. 
 
 My heart yearned after my people ; ten years I had 
 been their guide and adviser. I was the friend of the 
 old, and the teacher of the young. j\Iy Mary was 
 chosen from among them ; she had no foreign ties to 
 make her look back with regret upon the dwellers of the 
 land in distant places ; her youth and maturity had been 
 sj)ent among these very people ; so that w hen I named 
 to her the desire of my parishioners, and she also 
 ])erceived that my own wishes went with them, she stifled 
 any regretful feeling that might have arisen in her breast, 
 and replied to me in the words of Ruth : — 
 
 *' ' Thy country shall be my country ; thy people 
 shall be my people ; where thou diest will I die, and 
 there will 1 be buried : the Lord do so to me, and more 
 also, if ought but death part thee and me.* 
 
 *' A tender and affectionate partner hast thou been 
 to me, Mary," he added, turning his eyes affectionately 
 on the mild and dignified matron, whose expressive 
 
 &3 
 
 ' « 
 
 n u 
 
 H 
 
 ■r. 
 
H> 
 
 .'i. '4 
 
 t 
 
 ) • - . . i>'i ■ I 
 
 '.l..^l' 
 
 
 206 
 
 BACKWOODS or CANADA. 
 
 more 
 
 nionrc 
 
 countenance bespoke w' 
 
 fcelinsrs passinj; in her mind. She replied not by words, 
 but I saw the bier bright tears full on the woric she held 
 in her hand. They sprung from emotions too sacred to 
 be profaned by intrusive eyes, and 1 hastily averted my 
 glance Irom her face ; while the pastor proceeded to 
 narrate the |)articulars of their leaving Entriand, their 
 voyage, and, finally, their arrival in the land that had 
 been granted to the little colony in the then unbroken 
 part of the township of . 
 
 *' We had obtained a great deal of useful advice and 
 assistance from the Government agents previous to our 
 criming up hither, and also hired some choppers at high 
 wages to initiate us in the art of felling, logging, burning, 
 and clearing the ground ; as it was our main object to get 
 in cro))S of some kind, we turned to without any delay 
 further than what was necessary for providing a temporary 
 shelter tor our wives and children, and prepared the 
 ground for spring crops, helping each other as we could 
 with the loan of oxen and labour. And here I must 
 observe, that 1 experienced every attention and con- 
 sideration from ujy friends. My means were small, and 
 my family ail too young to render me any service ; how- 
 ever, I lacked not help, and had the satisfaction of seeing 
 a little spot cleared for the growth of potatoes and corn, 
 which 1 could not have effected by my single exertions. 
 
 *' My biggest boy, John, was but nine years old, Willie 
 seven, and the others still more helpless ; the two little 
 ones you see there," pointing to two young children, 
 *' have been born since we came hither. That yellow- 
 haired lassie knitting beside you was a babe at the breast; 
 — a helpless, wailing infant, so weak and sickly before 
 we came here that she was scarcely ever out of her 
 mother's arms ; but she grew and throve rapidly under 
 the rough treatment of a bush-settler's family. 
 
 " We had no house built, or dwelling of any kind to 
 receive us when we arrived at our destination ; and the 
 first two nights were pissed on the banks of the creek 
 that flows at the foot of the hill, in a hut of cedar and 
 hemlock boughs that I cut with my axe, and, with the 
 
TIIK FlH»r 5ADDATU. 
 
 20; 
 
 1 words the 
 by words, 
 Ic she held 
 > sacred to 
 verted my 
 ceeded to 
 land, their 
 I that had 
 unbroken 
 
 advice and 
 ious to our 
 rs at high 
 r, burninfr, 
 )jeet to eret 
 any delay 
 temporary 
 pared the 
 ) we could 
 re I must 
 and con- 
 mall, and 
 ice ; how- 
 of seeing 
 and corn, 
 jxertions. 
 Id, Willie 
 two little 
 children, 
 it yellow- 
 le breast; 
 ly before 
 It of her 
 dly under 
 
 y kind to 
 and the 
 he creek 
 edar and 
 with the 
 
 help of some of my coni|)union8, raised to shelter my 
 wife and the little ones. 
 
 ** Thoiitrh it was the middle of May the nights were 
 chilly, and we were glad to burn a pile of wood in front 
 of our hut to secure us from the etfects of the cold and 
 the stings of the mosquitoes, that came up in myriads 
 from the stream, and which finally drove us higher up 
 the bank. 
 
 *' As soon as possible we raised a shanty, which now 
 serves as a shed for my young cattle ; 1 would not pull it 
 down, though often urged to do so, as it stands in the way 
 of a pleasant prospect from the window : but 1 like to 
 look on it, and recall to mind the first years I pa.ssed 
 beneath its lowly roof. We need such mementos to remind 
 us of our former state ; but we grow proud and cease to 
 appreciate our j)resent comforts. 
 
 ** Our first Sabbath was celebrated in the oj)en air ; 
 my pulpit was a pile of rude logs; my church the deep 
 shade of the forest, beneath which we assembled our- 
 selves ; but sincerer or more fervent devotion 1 never 
 witnessed than that day. I well remeniber the text I 
 chose, for my address to them was from the viiith chapter 
 of Deuteronomy, the 6th, 7th, and 9th verses, which 
 appeared to me applicable to our circumstances. 
 
 ** The following year we raised a small blockhouse, 
 which served as a school -house and church. At first our 
 progress in clearing the land was slow, for we iiad to buy 
 experience, and many and great were the disappointments 
 and privations that befel us during the first few years. 
 One time we were all ill with ague, and not one able to 
 help the other: this was a sad time; but better things 
 were in store for us. The tide of emigration increased, 
 and the little settlement we had formed began to be well 
 spoken of. One man came and built a saw-mill ; a grist- 
 mill followed soon after ; and then one store and then 
 another, till we beheld a flourishing village spring up 
 around us. Then the land began to increase in value, and 
 many of the first settlers sold their lots to advantage, and 
 retreated further up the woods. As the village increased, 
 so, of course, did my professional duties, whi(h had for 
 
m 
 
 . • t 
 
 
 A'* 
 
 4 > 
 
 * ^ 
 
 
 } ,-\ 
 
 '* ■''•' 
 
 
 
 208 
 
 BACKWOODS or CANADA. 
 
 the firft fow yoars boon paid for in aots of kindnosi^ 
 and voluntary labour by my littlo flock ; now I havo the 
 satisfaction of roapinp a reward without proving bunicu- 
 sonjo to my parishioiiors. My farm is incrcasinir, and 
 bt^sidcs tho salary arisini; from my curacy 1 havo some- 
 thing additional for tlio school, whi(;h is paid by (lovorn- 
 mont. We may now say it is p^ood for us to be hero, 
 seeing that God has been pleased to send down a blossin;.' 
 upon us." 
 
 1 have forgotten many very interesting particulars 
 relating to the trials and shifts this family were put to in 
 the first few years : but the pastor told us enough to 
 make me quite contented with my lot, and I returned 
 home, after some days* pleasant sojourn with this delight- 
 ful family, with an additional stock of contentment, and 
 some useful and practical knowledge, that I trust I shall 
 be the better for all my life. 
 
 1 am rather interest(»d in a young lad that has come out 
 from Englatid to learn Canadian farming. The poor boy 
 had conceived the most romantic notions of a settler's 
 life, partly from the favourable accounts he had read, and 
 partly through the medium of a lively imagination, which 
 had aided in the deception, and led him to suppose that 
 his time would be chiefly spent in the fascinating amuse- 
 ments and adventures arising from hunting the forest in 
 search of deer and other game, pigeon and duck-shooting, 
 spearing Hsh by torchlight, and voyaging on the lakes in 
 a birch-bark canoe in summer ; skating in winter, or 
 gliding over the frozen snow like a Laplander in his 
 sledge, wrapi)ed up to the eyes in furr, and travelling at 
 the rate of twelve miles an hour to the sound of an 
 harmonious peal of bells. What a I'elicitous life to cap- 
 tivate the mind of a boy of fourteen, just let loose from 
 the irksome restraint of boarding-school ! 
 
 How little did he dream of the drudgery inseparalile 
 from the duties of a lad of his age, in a country where 
 the old and young, the master and the servant, are alike 
 obliged to labour for a livelihood, without respect to for- 
 mer situation or rank ! 
 
 Here the son of the gentleman becomes a hewer of 
 
kindnosjt 
 I have (ho 
 PT burdrii- 
 ^'iixiS, and 
 avo soiiio- 
 •y (lovcrri- 
 ) 1)0 here, 
 a hlcssiii'jr 
 
 particulars 
 ; put tu id 
 enough to 
 returned 
 isdclight- 
 ment, and 
 ust I shall 
 
 5 come out 
 3 poor boy 
 a settler's 
 
 read, and 
 on, which 
 ipose that 
 ng amuse- 
 
 forcst in 
 -shooting, 
 c lakes in 
 vintcr, or 
 er in his 
 ivelling at 
 nd of an 
 fe to cap- 
 30se I'rom 
 
 iseparahle 
 try where 
 , arc alike 
 ?ct to for- 
 
 hewer of 
 
 YOUTH THE UE8T SEASON FOR EMICJKATISO. 209 
 
 wood anrl <lmwor of water ; he learns to chop down trees, 
 to pile l)iush-h' ,i|>s, split rails for fences, attend the fires 
 during the l>urnin<jc season, dressed in a coarse over- 
 garment of heiiijKMi rldth, called a logirioL'-shirt, with 
 trousers to correspfjnd, and a Yankee straw hat Happrd 
 over his cyi's, and a handspike to assist him in rollin 
 
 over tlie ounnng firanus. 1 o tend una drive oxen, plouLrh, 
 sow, plant Indian corn and pumpkins, and raise potato- 
 hills, are among some of the young emiu'rant's accom- 
 j)lishments. His relaxations are hut com|)aratively few, 
 l)ut they are seized with a relish and avidity that give 
 them the greater charm. 
 
 You may imagine the disappointment felt by the poor 
 lad on seeing his fair visions of anmsement fade before 
 the dull realities and distasteful details of a young settler's 
 occupation in the backwoods. 
 
 Youth, however, is the best season for coming to this 
 country ; the mind soon bends itself to its situation, and 
 becomes not only reconciled, but in time please*! with 
 the change of life. There is a consolation, too, in seeinjz 
 that he does no more than others of equal ]>retensions as 
 to rank and education are obliged to submit to, if they 
 would prosi)er ; and perhaps he lives to bless the country 
 which has robbed him of a portion of that absurd j)ride 
 that made him look with contempt on those whose occu- 
 ])ations were of a humble nature. It were a thousand 
 pities wilfully to deceive persons desirous of emigrating 
 with false and flattering pictures of the advantages to be 
 met with in this country. Lot the pro and con be fairly 
 stated, and let the reader use his best judgment, unbiassed 
 by prejudice or interest in a matter of such vital import- 
 ance not only as regards himself, but the haj)piness an<l 
 welfare of those over whose destinies Nature has made 
 him the guardian. It is, however, far more diflicult to 
 write on the subject of emigration than most persons think : 
 it embraces so wide a field that what would be perfectly 
 correct as regards one part of the province would by no 
 means prove so as regarded another. One district dirt'ers 
 from another, and one township from anotlier, according 
 to its natural advantages ; whether it be long settled or 
 
 I* . 
 
 :1 
 
 •I 
 
 ll 
 
 ". I' 
 
u 
 
 
 <« 
 
 K ♦; 
 
 
 ^ >.:iM 
 
 * ; ; V „( 
 
 ; ■ 
 
 
 210 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 unsettled, possessing water privileges or not, the soil and 
 even the climate will be ditferent, according to situiition 
 and circumstances. 
 
 Much depends on the tempers, habits, and dispositions 
 of the emigrants themselves. What suits one will not 
 another; one family will flourish, and accumulate every 
 comfort about their homesteads, while others languish in 
 ])overty and discontent. It would take volumes to discuss 
 every argument for and against, and to point out exactly 
 who are and who are not fit subjects for emigration. 
 
 Have you read Dr. Dunlop's spirited and witty ' Back- 
 woodsman ? ' If you have not, get it as soon as you 
 can ; it will amuse you. I think a Backwoodswoman 
 might be written in the same spirit, setting forth a few 
 pages, in the history of bush-ladies, as examples for our 
 sex. Indeed, we need some wholesome admonitions on 
 our duties and the folly of repining at following and 
 sharing the fortunes of our spouses, whom we have vowed 
 in happier hours to love "in riches and in poverty, in 
 sickness and in health." Too many pronounce these 
 words without heeding their importance, and without 
 calculating the chances that may put their faithfulness to 
 the severe test of quitting home, kindred, and country, 
 to share the hard lot of a settler's life ; for even this 
 sacrifice renders it hard to be borne ; but the truly 
 attached wife will do this, and more also, if required by 
 liie husband of her choice. 
 
 But now it is time I say farewell : my dull letter, 
 grown to a formidable packet, will tire you, and make 
 you wish it at the bottom of the Atlantic. 
 
 \ ■ 
 
 '.f:. 
 
 *,.?'•.';■ 
 
 '■ii 
 
 >km'^ 
 
the soil and 
 to situiitiun 
 
 dispositions 
 one will not 
 lulate every 
 languish in 
 es to discuss 
 out exactly 
 ration. 
 itty 'Back- 
 oon as you 
 ('oodswonian 
 forth a few 
 iples for our 
 tionitions on 
 lowing- and 
 have vowed 
 poverty, in 
 >unce these 
 ,nd without 
 th fulness to 
 nd country, 
 even this 
 the truly 
 equired by 
 
 dull letter, 
 and make 
 
 INDIAN HUNTERS. 
 
 211 
 
 Letter XVI, 
 
 Indian Hunters. — Sail in a Canoe. — Want of Libraries Ie 
 the Backwoods. — New Village. — Progress of Improve- 
 ment. — Fire-flies. 
 
 Having in a former letter giving you some account of a 
 winter visit to the Indians, I shall now give a short sketch 
 of their summer encampment, which I went to see one 
 beautiful afternoon in June, accompanied by my husband 
 and some friends that had come in to spend the day 
 with us. 
 
 The Indians were encamped on a little peninsula jut- 
 ting out between two small lakes ; our nearest path would 
 have been through the bush, but the ground was so en- 
 cumbered by fallen trees that we agreed to go in a canoe. 
 The day was warm, without being oppressively hot, as it 
 too often is during the summer months : and for a w onder 
 the mosquitoes and black-flies were so civil as not to 
 molest us. Our light bark skimmed gaily over the calm 
 waters, beneath the overhanging shade of cedars, hem- 
 lock, and balsams, that emitted a delicious fragrance as 
 the passing breeze swept through the boughs. I was in 
 raptures with a bed of blue irises mixed with snow-white 
 water-lilies that our canoe passed over. Turning the 
 stony bank that formed the point, we saw the thin blue 
 smoke of the camp curling above the trees, and soon our 
 canoe was safely moored alongside of those belonging to 
 the Indians, and by help of the straggling branches and 
 underwood I contrived to scramble up a steep path, and 
 soon found myself in front of the tent. It was a Sunday 
 afternoon ; all the men were at home ; some of the 
 younger branches of the families (for there were three 
 that inhabited the wigwam) were amusing themselves 
 
 T 1 
 
 I 
 
 K 
 
 I? 
 
 it!' 
 
 4 1'f 
 
 I'll 
 
 m 
 
 
 il 
 
 I 
 
 '11 
 
fl 
 ^^1 
 
 t 
 
 t. 
 
 Rvr,* 
 
 
 ^ '.■* 
 
 It',-. ^ - * 
 
 H ■>--'■•- 
 
 
 
 
 fl 
 
 212 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA 
 
 with throwing the tomahawk at a notch cut in the bark 
 of a distant tree, or shooting at a mark with their bows 
 and arrows, while the elders reposed on their blankets 
 within the shade, some reading, others smoking, and 
 gravely eyeing the young rival marksmen at their feats of 
 skill. 
 
 Only one of the squaws was at home ; this was my old 
 acquaintance the hunter's wife, who was sitting on a 
 blanket; her youngest, little David, a papouse of three 
 years, who wa« not yet weaned, was reposing between 
 her feet ; she often eyed him with looks of great affec- 
 tion, and patted his shaggy head from time to time. 
 Peter, who is a sort of great man, though not a chief, sat 
 beside his spouse, dressed in a handsome blue surtout- 
 coat, with a red worsted sash about his waist. He was 
 smoking a short pi|)e, and viewing the assembled party 
 at the door of the tent with an expression of quiet inter- 
 est ; sometimes he lifted his pipe for an instant to give a 
 sort of inward exclamation at the success or failure of his 
 sons' attempts to hit the mark on the tree. The old 
 squaw, as soon as she saw me, motioned me forward, and 
 pointing to a vacant portion of her blanket, with a good- 
 natured smile, signed for me to sit beside her, which I 
 did, and amused myself with taking note of the interior 
 of the wigwam and its inhabitants. The building was 
 of an oblong form, open at both ends, but at night I was 
 told the openings were closed by blankets ; the upper 
 part of the roof was also open ; the sides were rudely 
 fenced with large sheets of birch bark, drawn in and out 
 between the sticks that made the frame-work of the tent ; 
 a long slender pole of iron-wood formed a low beam, 
 from which depended sundry iron and brass pots and ket- 
 tles, also some joints of fresh-killed venison and dried 
 fish ; the fires occupied the centre of the hut, around the 
 embers of which reposed several meek deer-hounds ; they 
 evinced something of the quiet apathy of their masters, 
 merely opening their eyes to look upon the intruders, and 
 seeing all was well returned to their former slumbers, 
 perfectly unconcerned by our entrance. 
 
 The hunter's family occupied one entire side of the 
 
11 the bark 
 their bows 
 ir blankets 
 oking, and 
 leir leats of 
 
 was my old 
 itting on a 
 se oT three 
 ig between 
 great afFec- 
 le to time, 
 a chief, sat 
 lue surtout- 
 t. He was 
 nbled party 
 quiet inter- 
 nt to give a 
 ailure of his 
 . The old 
 jrward, and 
 nth a good- 
 er, which I 
 the interior 
 uilding was 
 night I was 
 
 the upper 
 vere rudely 
 i in and out 
 of the tent ; 
 
 low beam, 
 ots and ket- 
 
 and dried 
 
 around the 
 )unds ; they 
 eir masters, 
 
 ruders, and 
 slumbers, 
 
 side of the 
 
 HuXTERS FA MILT. 
 
 213 
 
 building, while Joseph Muskrat with his family, and 
 Joseph J^olans and his squaw shared the op[)osile one, 
 their several apartments being distinguished by thoir 
 blankets, fishing-spears, rifles, tomahawks, and other 
 property : as to the cooking utensils they seemed from 
 their scarcity to be held in common among them ; perfect 
 amity appeared among the three families; and, if one 
 might judge from outward appearance, they seemoil 
 happy and contented. On examining the books that 
 were in the hands of the young men, they proved to be 
 hymns and tracts, one side printed in English, the other 
 the Indian translation. In compliance with our wishes 
 the men saiig one of the hymns, which sounded very 
 well, but we missed the sweet voices of the Indian girls, 
 whom I had left in front of the house, sitting on a pine- 
 log and amusing themselves with my baby, and seeming 
 highly delighted with him and his nurse. 
 
 Outside the tent the squaw showed me a birch-bark 
 canoe that was building ; the shape of the canoe is 
 marked out by sticks stuck in the ground at regular dis- 
 ■ tances ; the sheets of bark being wetted, and secured in 
 their proper places by cedar laths, which are bent so as to 
 serve the purpose of ribs or timbers ; the sheets of bark 
 are stitched together with the tough roots of the tama- 
 rack, and the edges of the canoe also sewed or laced over 
 with the same material ; the whole is then varnished over 
 w ith a thick •gum. 
 
 I had the honour of being paddled home by Mrs. Peter 
 in a new canoe, just launched, and really the motion was 
 delightful ; seated at the bottom of the little bark, on a 
 few light hemlock boughs, I enjoyed my voyage home 
 exceedingly. The canoe, propelled by the Amazonian 
 arm of the swarthy matron, flew swiftly over the waters, 
 and I was soon landed in a little cove within a short dis- 
 tance 'from my own door. In return for the squaw's 
 civility I delighted her by a present of a few beads for 
 working mocassins and knife-sheaths, with which she 
 seemed very well pleased, carefully securing her treasure 
 bv tvinff thom in a corner of her blanket with a bit of 
 tln-ead. 
 
 !' 
 
 i; 
 
 mil 
 
 liii: 
 
 111'" 
 
 ;|« 
 
'i J'M- 
 
 :<*>', 
 
 
 
 Ik',***"'-*'* ^' 
 
 It. 
 
 
 214 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CA> ADA. 
 
 With a ])ecur!ar reserve and gravity of temper, thera 
 is at the same time a degree of childishness about the 
 Indians in some things. I gave the hunter and his son 
 one day some coloured prints, which they seemed migh- 
 tily taken with, laughing immoderately at some of the 
 fashionably dressed figures. When they left the house 
 they seated themselves on a fallen tree, and called their 
 hounds round them, dbplaying to each severally the 
 pictures. 
 
 The poor animals, instead of taking a survey of the 
 gaily dressed ladies and gentlemen, held up their meek 
 heads and licked their masters' hands and faces ; but old 
 Peter was resolved the dogs should share the amusement 
 of looking at the pictures, and turned their faces to thorn, 
 holding them fast by their long ears when they endea- 
 voured to escape. I could hardly have supposed the 
 grave Indian capable of such childish behaviour. 
 
 These Indians appear less addicted to gay and tinselly 
 adornments than formerly, and rather attect a European 
 style in their dress ; it is no unusual sight to see an In- 
 dian habited in a fine cloth coat and trousei*s, though I 
 must say the blanket-coats provided for them by Govern- 
 ment, and which form part of their annual presents, are 
 far more suitable and becoming. The squaws, too, 
 prefer cotton or stuft' gowns, aprons, and handkerchiefs, 
 and such useful articles, to any sort of finery, though 
 they like well enough to look at and admire»them ; they 
 delight nevertheless in decking out the little ones, em- 
 broidering their cradle wrappings with silks and beads, 
 and tacking the wings of birds to their shoulders. I was 
 a little amused by the appearance of one of these Indian 
 Cupids, adorned with the wings of the American war- 
 bird ; a very beautiful creature, something like our Bri- 
 tish bullfinch, only far more lively in plumage : the breast 
 and under-feathers of the wings being a tint of the most 
 brilliant carmine, shaded with black and white. This 
 bird has been called the '* war-bird,*' from its having first 
 made its appearance in this province during the late 
 American war ; a fact that I believe is well autnenticated, 
 or at any rate has obtained general credence. 
 
niper, thers 
 ss about the 
 and liis son 
 3me(l migh- 
 ome of the 
 ft the house 
 called their 
 iverallv the 
 
 rvey of the 
 their meek 
 es ; but old 
 amusement 
 es to thorn, 
 they endca- 
 pposed the 
 ur. 
 
 ind tinselly 
 
 1 European 
 
 i see an In- 
 
 ?, though I 
 
 t)y Govern- 
 
 •esents, are 
 
 uaws, too, 
 
 d kerchiefs, 
 
 ry, though 
 
 Hem ; they 
 
 ones, em- 
 
 and beads, 
 
 rs. I was 
 
 ese Indian 
 
 Tican war- 
 
 } our Bri- 
 
 the breast 
 
 f the most 
 
 ite. This 
 
 laving first 
 
 ; the late 
 
 lenticated, 
 
 BOADS 
 
 215 
 
 I could hardly help smiling at your notion that we 
 in the backwoods can liave easy access to a circulating 
 library. In one sense, indeed, you are not so I'ar from 
 truth, for every settler's library may be caded a circu- 
 lating one, as their books are sure to pass from friend 
 to friend in due rotation ; and, fortunately for us, we 
 happen to have several excellently furnished ones in 
 our neighbourhood, which are always open to us. 
 There is a public library at York, and a small circu- 
 lating library at Cobourg ; but they might just as well be 
 on the other side of the Atlantic for any access we can 
 have to them. 
 
 I know how it is ; at home you have the same idea 
 of the facility of travelling in this country as I once 
 had : now I know what bush-roads are, a few miles' 
 journey seems an awful undertaking. Do you re- 
 member my account of a day's travelling through the 
 woods ? I am sorry to say they are but little amended 
 since that letter was written. I have only once ven- 
 tured to perform a similar journey, which took several 
 hours' hard travelling, and, more by good luck than 
 any other thing, arrived with whole bones at my de- 
 stination. I could not help laughing at the frequent 
 exclamations of the teamster, a shrewd Yorkshire lad, 
 " Oh, if I had but the driving of his excellency the 
 governor along this road, how I would make the old 
 horses trot over the stumps and stones, till he should 
 crv out ao^ain ! I warrant he 'd do summut to mend them 
 before he came along them again." 
 
 Unfortunately it is not a statute-road on this side 
 the river, and has been cut by the settlers for their 
 own convenience ; so that I fear nothing will be done 
 to improve it, unless it is by the inhabitants them- 
 selves. 
 
 We hope soon to have a market for our grain nearer 
 at hand than Peterborough ; a grist-mill has just been 
 raised at the new village that is springing up. This 
 will prove a great comfort to us ; we have at present 
 to fetch flour up at a great expense, through bad roads, 
 and the loss of time to those that are obliged to send 
 
 
216 
 
 BACKWOODS or CANADA. 
 
 
 ^ m:^'': 
 
 
 
 t ' ' 
 
 mm 
 
 
 wheat to the town to be ground is a serious evil : this 
 will soon be remedied, to the joy of the whole neigh- 
 bourhood. 
 
 You do not know how important these improvements 
 are, and what effect they have in raising the spirits of 
 the emigrant, besides enhancing the value of his j)ro- 
 perty in no trifling degree. We have already ex- 
 perienced the benefit of being near the saw-mill, as it 
 not only enables us to build at a smaller expense, but 
 enables us to exchange logs for sawn lumber. Tiie 
 great pine-trees which, under other circumstances, would 
 be an encumbrance and drawback to clearing the land, 
 prove a most profitable crop when cleared off in the 
 form of saw-logs, which is easily done where they are 
 near the water: the logs are sawn to a certain length, 
 and dragged by oxen during the winter, when the 
 ground is bard, to the lake's edge ; when the ice breaks 
 up, the logs float down with the current and enter the 
 mill-race ; I have seen the lake opposite to our windows 
 covered with these floating timbers, voyaging down to 
 the saw-mill. 
 
 How valuable would the great oaks and gigantic 
 pines be on an estate in England ; while here they 
 are as little thought of as saplings would be at home. 
 Some years hence the timbers that are now burned 
 up will be regretted. Yet it is impossible to preserve 
 them ; they would prove a great encumbrance to the 
 farmer. The oaks are desirable for .plitting, as they 
 make the most durable fences ; pine, cedar, and white 
 ash are also used for rail-cuts ; maple and dry beech 
 are the best sorts of wood for fires; white ash bums 
 well. In making ley for soap, care is taken to use 
 none but the ashes of hard wood, as oak, ash, maple, 
 beech ; any of the resinous trees are bad for the pur- 
 pose, and the ley will not mingle with the fat in boil- 
 ing, to the great mortification of the uninitiated soap- 
 boiler, who, by being made acq jaiiitcd with this simple 
 fact, might have been spared much useless trouble and 
 waste of material, after months of careful saving. 
 
 An American settlers wife told mc this, and bade 
 
 ,.^; V*;. 
 
 mi":} 
 
us evil : this 
 vhole neigh- 
 
 nprovoments 
 he spirits of 
 of his ])ro- 
 already ex- 
 LW-mill, as it 
 expense, but 
 mber. Tiie 
 ances, would 
 ing the land, 
 i off in the 
 3re they are 
 rtain length, 
 , when the 
 le ice breaks 
 nd enter the 
 our windows 
 ing down to 
 
 ind gigantic 
 here they 
 i)e at home, 
 now burned 
 to preserve 
 ance to the 
 ng, as they 
 r, and white 
 I dry beech 
 e ash burns 
 ken to use 
 ash, maple, 
 or the pur- 
 fat in boil- 
 tiated soap 
 I this simple 
 trouble and 
 ing. 
 and bade 
 
 TH£ CANADAS PRKP&RRED TO OHIO. 
 
 217 
 
 me be careful not to make use of any of the pinc-wooJ 
 ashes in running the ley. And here I must otscrvc, 
 that of all pco[)le the Yankees, as they are termed, are 
 the most industrious and ingenious ; they are never at a 
 loss for an expedient : if one thing fails them they adopt 
 another, with a quickness of thought that surprises me, 
 while to them it seems only a matter of course. They 
 seem to possess a sort of innate j)rcsence of mind, and 
 instead of wasting their energies in words, they act. 
 The old settlers that have been long among them seem 
 to acquire the same sort of habits, insomuch that it is 
 difficult to distinguish them. I have heard the Ame- 
 ricans called a loquacious boasting people ; now, as far 
 as my limited acquaintance with them goes, I consider 
 they are almost laconic, and if I dislike them it is for a 
 certain cold brevity of manner that seems to place a bar- 
 rier between you and them. 
 
 I was somewhat struck with a remark made by a 
 travelling clock-maker, a native of the state of Ohio. 
 After speaking of the superior climate of Ohio, in 
 answer to some questions of my husband, he said« he 
 was surprised that gentlemen should prefer the Canadas, 
 especially the bush, where for many years they must 
 want all the comforts and luxuries of life, to the rich, 
 highly cultivated, and fruitful state of Ohio, where land 
 was much cheaper both cleared and wild. 
 
 To this we replied that, in the first place, British 
 subjects preferred the British government ; and, be- 
 sides, they were averse to the manners of his country- 
 men. He candidly admitted the first objection ; and 
 in reply to the last observed, that the Americans at 
 large ought not to be judged by the specimens to be 
 found in the British colonics, as they were, for the most 
 part, persons of no reputation, many of whom had fled 
 10 the Canadas to escape from debt, or other disgrace- 
 ful conduct; and added, "It would be hard if the 
 English were to be judged as a nation by the convicts of 
 Botany Bay." 
 
 Now, there was nothing unfair or rude in the manners 
 
 '■ ii 
 
218 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 If 'Hi''. 
 
 *• . ■ . ?,' ■■' ' '. 
 ^l ■-!> ' ?■■■ I. 
 
 
 
 
 "iCV;. 
 
 
 
 
 of this stranjrer, and his defence of his nation was mild 
 and reasonable, and such as any un])rejudiced person 
 must have respected him for. 
 
 I have just been interrupted by a friend who has 
 called to tell me he has an opportunity of sending safe 
 and free of expense to London or Liverpool, and that he 
 will enclose a packet for me in the box he is packing for 
 England. 
 
 1 am delighted by the intelligence, but regret that 
 I have nothing but a few flower-seeds, a specimen of 
 Indian workmanship, and a few butterflies to send you 
 — the latter are for Jane. I hope all will not share the 
 fate of the last I sent. Sarah wrote me word, when 
 they came to look for the green moth I had enclosed 
 in a little box, nothing of his earthly remains was visi- 
 ble beyond a little dust and some pink feet. I have, 
 with some difficulty, been able to procure another and 
 finer specimen ; and, for fear it should meet with a simi- 
 lar annihilation, I will at least preserve the memory or 
 its beauties, and give you a description of it. 
 
 It is just five inches from wing to wing ; the body 
 the thickness of my little finger, snow-white, covered 
 with long silken hair ; the legs bright red, so are the 
 antennae, which are toothed like a comb on either side, 
 shorter than those of butterflies and elegantly curled ; 
 the wings, both upper and under, are of the most 
 exquisite pale tint of green, fringed at the edges with 
 golden colour ; each wing has a small shaded crescent 
 of pale blue, deep red, and orange ; the blue forming 
 the centre, like a half-closed eye ; the lower wings 
 elongated in deep scollop, so as to form two long tails, 
 like those of the swallow-tail butterfly, only a full inch 
 in length and deeply fringed ; on the whole this moth is 
 the must exquisite creature I have ever seen. 
 
 We have a variety of the peacock butterfly that is 
 very rich, with innumemble eyes on the wings. The 
 yellow swallow-tail is also v^ry common, and the black 
 and blue admiral, and the red, white, and black admiral, 
 with many other beautiiUl varieties that I cannot de- 
 
 
DRAOOX-FLIE3. — FIRE-FLIES. 
 
 219 
 
 m was mild 
 ced person 
 
 id who has 
 ending sale 
 md that he 
 packing for 
 
 regret that 
 lecimen of 
 9 send you 
 t share the 
 rord, when 
 d enclosed 
 IS was visi- 
 . I have, 
 mother and 
 ^ith a sinii- 
 niemory or 
 
 the body 
 ;, covered 
 so are the 
 ither side, 
 
 y curled ; 
 
 the most 
 dges with 
 crescent 
 forming 
 er wings 
 long tails, 
 
 full inch 
 [is moth is 
 
 ly that is 
 gs. The 
 the black 
 V admiral, 
 Emnot de- 
 
 scribe. The largest butterfly I have yet seen is a gay 
 vermilion, marked with jet black lines that form an 
 elegant black lace pattern over its wide \ gs. 
 
 Then tor dragon-flies, we have them of every size, 
 shape, and colour. 1 was particularly charmed by u 
 pair of superb blue ones that 1 used to see this summer 
 in my walk to visit my sister. They were as large as 
 butterflies, with black gauze wings ; on each j>air was 
 marked a crescent of the brightest azure blue, shaded 
 with scarlet ; the bodies of these beautiful creatures were 
 also blue. I have seen them scarlet and black, yellow 
 and black, copper-coloured, green, and brown ; the latter 
 are great enemies to the mosquitoes and other small 
 insects, and may be seen in vast numbers flitting around 
 in all directions of an evening in search of prey. 
 
 The fire-flies must not bo forgotten, for of all others 
 they are the most remarkable ; their appearance generally 
 j)recedes rain ; they are often seen alter dark, on mild 
 damp evenings, sporting among the cedars at the edge 
 of the wood, and especially near swamps, when the air 
 is illuminated with their brilliant dancing light. Some- 
 times they may be seen in groups, glancing like falling 
 stars in mid-air, or descending so low as to enter your 
 dwelling and flit about among the draperies of your bed 
 or window-curtains ; the light they emit is more brilliant 
 than that of the glowworm ; but it is produced in the 
 same manner, from the under part of the body. The 
 glowworm is also frequently seen, even as late as Septem- 
 ber, on mild, warm, dewy nights. 
 
 We have abundance of large and small beetles, some 
 most splendid : green and gold, rose-colour, red and 
 black, yellow and black ; some quite black, formidably 
 large, with wide branching horns. Wasps are not so 
 troublesome as in England, but I suppose it is because 
 we cannot otter such temptations as our home gardens 
 hold out to these ravenous insects. 
 
 One of our cho^)pers brought me the other day what 
 he called a hornet's nest ; it was certainly too small and 
 delicate a piece of workn)anshij) for so large an insect ; 
 and I rather conjecture that it belonged to the beautil'ul 
 
 r 
 
 '\ 
 
 
 i* 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
220 
 
 DACKWOOIJS OF CANADA. 
 
 Iw •( .'■ 
 
 black and jrold insect called the wasp-fly ; but of this I 
 am nut certain. The nest was about the size and sha{)c 
 of a turlcey's egg, and was composed of six paper cups 
 inserted one within the other, each lessening till the 
 innermost of all appeared not larger than a pigeon's egg. 
 On looking carefully within the orifice of the last cup, a 
 small comb, containing twelve cells, of the most exqui- 
 site neatness, might be perceived, if anything, sujxirior 
 in regularity to the cells in the comb of the domestic 
 bee, one of which was at least equal to three of these. 
 The substance that comjmfted the cups was of a fine 
 silver grey silken texture, as fine as the finest India silk 
 paper, and extremely brittle ; when slightly wetted it 
 became glutinous, and adhered a little to the finger ; the 
 whole was carefully fixed to a stick; I have seen one 
 since fastened to a rough rail. I ^ould not but admire 
 the instinctive care displayed in tlu^ formation of this 
 exquisite piece of insect architecture to guard the embryo 
 animal from injury, either from the voracity of birds or 
 the effect of rain, which could scarcely find entrance in 
 the interior. 
 
 I had carefully, as I thought, preserved my treasure, 
 by putting it in one of xay drawers, but a wicked little 
 thief of a mouse found it cut and tore it to j)ieces for the 
 sake of the drops of honey contained in one or two of 
 the cells. I was much vexed, as I purposed sending it 
 by some favourable opportunity to a dear friend living in 
 Gloucester Place, who took great delight in natural 
 curiosities, and once showed me a nest of similar form to 
 this, that had been ibund in a bee-hive; the material 
 was much coarser, and, if I remember right, had but two 
 cases instead of six. 
 
 I have always felt a great desire to see the nest of a 
 bumming-bird, but hitherto have been disappointed. 
 This summer I had some beds of mignionette and other 
 flowers, with some most splendid major convolvuluses or 
 *' morning gloves," as the Americans call them ; these 
 lovely flowers tempted the humming-birds to visit my 
 garden, and I had the pleasure of seeing a pair of those 
 beautiful creatures, but their flight is so peculiar that it 
 
IIUMMINO-DIRD. 
 
 221 
 
 harilly g:ivcs you a perfect sight of th r coloui their 
 motion when on the wing resembles tlie whirl ot a >j»iM 
 ning-wheel, and the sound they make is like the iiinn #1 
 a wheel at work ; I shall plant Howers to entice them i«« 
 build near us. 
 
 1 sometimes fear you will grow weary of my long dull 
 letters ; my only resources are domestic details and i\n* 
 natural history of the country, which I give whenever i 
 think the subject has novelty to recommend it to your 
 attention. Possibly I may sometimes disappoint you i)y 
 details that apj)ear to place the state of the emigrant in 
 an unfavourable light : I merely give facts as I have 
 seen, or heard them stated. 1 could give you many 
 flourishing accounts of settlers in this country ; I could 
 also reverse the picture, and you would come to the 
 conclusion that there are many arguments to be used both 
 for and against emigration. Now, the greatest argument, 
 and that which has the most weight, is neckssity, and 
 this will always turn the scale in the favour of emigra- 
 t'ion ; and that same imperative dame Necessity tells me 
 it is necessary *br me to draw my letter to a conclusion. 
 
 Farewell : ever faithfully and affectionately, your 
 attached sister. 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 "X 
 
( 222 ) 
 
 LETTER XVII. 
 
 Ague. 
 
 Illness of the Family.— Probable Cause,— Root- 
 house. — Setting-in of Winter.— Insect termed a "Saw- 
 yer." — Temporary Church. 
 
 r.i's 
 
 
 November 28, 1834. 
 
 You will have been surprised, and possibly distressed, 
 by my long silence of several months, but when I tell 
 you it has been occasioned by sickness, you will cease to 
 wonder that I did not write. 
 
 My dear husband, my servant, the poor babe, and 
 myself, were all at one time confined to our beds with 
 ague. You know how severe my sufferings always were 
 ut home with intermittents, and need not marvel if thev 
 wore no less great in a country where lake-fevers and all 
 kinds of intermittent fevers abound. 
 
 Few persons escape the second year without being 
 afHicted with this weakening complaint ; the mode of 
 treatment is repeated doses of calomel, with castor-oil or 
 salts, and is followed up by quinine. Those persons 
 who do not choose to employ medical advice on the 
 subject, dose themselves with ginger-tea, strong infusion 
 of hyson, or any other powerful green tea, pepper, and 
 whiskey, with many other remedies that have the sanc- 
 tion of custom or quackery. 
 
 I will not dwell on this uncomfortable period, further 
 than to tell you that we considered the complaint to 
 have had its origin in a malaria, arising from a cellar 
 below the kitchen. When the snow melted, this cellar 
 became half full of water, either from the moisture 
 draining through the spongy earth, or from the rising of 
 a spring beneath the house ; be it as it may, the heat of 
 the co<£ing and Franklin stoves in the kitcnen and par- 
 
lause,— Root- 
 led a " Saw- 
 
 r28, 1834. 
 
 y distressed, 
 when I tell 
 will cease tu 
 
 •r babe, anil 
 IT beds with 
 always were 
 irvel if they 
 ivers and all 
 
 bout being 
 ne mode of 
 castor-oil or 
 ose persons 
 ncQ on the 
 3ng infusion 
 pepper, and 
 /e the sanc- 
 
 iod, further 
 oin plaint to 
 om a cellar 
 this cellar 
 e moisture 
 he rising of 
 the heat of 
 n and par- 
 
 i 
 
 lOUE. 
 
 223 
 
 lour caused a fermentation to take place in the stagnant 
 fluid before it could be em|)tied ; the effluvia arising from 
 this mass of putrifying water affected us all. The female 
 servant, who was the most exposed to its baneful influ- 
 ence, was the first of our household that fell sick, after 
 which we each in turn became unable to assist each 
 other. I think I suffer an additional portion of the 
 malady from seeing the sufferings of my dear husband 
 and my beloved child. 
 
 I lost the ague in a fortnight^s time — thanks to calomel 
 and quinine ; so did my babe and his nurse : it has, how- 
 ever, hung on my husband during the whole of the 
 sumnier, and thrown a damp upon his exertions and 
 gloom upon his spirits. This is the certain etiect of 
 ague, it causes the same sort of depression on the spirits 
 as a nervous fever. My dear child nas not been well ever 
 since he had the ague, and looks very pale and spiritless. 
 
 We should have been in a most miserable condition, 
 being unable to procure a female servant, a nurse, or any 
 one to attend upon us, and totally unable to help our- 
 selves ; but for the prompt assistance of Marv on one 
 side, and Susannah on the other, I know not what would 
 have become of us in our sore trouble. 
 
 This summer has been excessively hot and dry ; the 
 waters in the lakes and rivers being lower than they had 
 been known for many years ; scarcely a drop of rain fell 
 for several weeks. This extreme drought rendered the 
 potato-crop a decided failure. Our Indian-corn was very 
 nne ; so were the pumpkins. We had some fine vege- 
 tables in the garden, especially the peas and melons ; 
 the latter were very large and fine. The cultivation of 
 the melon is very simple : you first draw the surrounding 
 earth together with a broaa hoe into a heap ; the middle 
 of this heap is then slightly hollowed out, so as to form a 
 basin, the mould being raised round the edges ; into this 
 hollow you insert several melon-seeds, and leave the 
 rest to the summer heat ; if you water the plants from 
 time to time, it is well for them ; the soil should be fine 
 black mould ; and if your hills are inclining to a hollow- 
 part of your ground, so as to retain the moisture, so much 
 
 L 2 
 
 I 
 
 1, 
 
 I 
 
 'I 
 
 t! 
 
 t) 
 
 ;!: 
 
 'I ( 
 
 Hi 
 
 ; 
 
 % 
 
 t • 
 
224 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 ii 
 
 ' 4 ' . 
 
 
 h;,-.' 
 
 
 I -1 •■:■ 
 
 the finer will be your fruit. It is the opinion of practical 
 persons who have bought wisdom by some years' expe- 
 rience of the country, that in laying out and planting a 
 garden, the beds should not be raised, as is the usual 
 custom ; and give as a reason, that the sun having such 
 great power draws the moisture more readily from the 
 earth where the beds are elevated above the level, and, 
 in conse(|uence of the dryness of the ground, the plants 
 wither away. 
 
 As there appears some truth in the remark. I am in- 
 clined to adopt the plan. 
 
 Vegetables are in general fine, and come quickly to 
 maturity, considering the lateness of the season in which 
 they are usually put into the ground. Peas are always 
 fine, especially the marrowfats, which are sometimes 
 grown in the fields, on cleared lands that are under the 
 
 1 plough. We have a great variety of beans, all of the 
 ^Vench or kidney kind ; there is a very prolific white 
 runner, of which I send you some of the seed : the me- 
 thod of planting them is to raise a small hillock of mould 
 by drawing the earth up with the hoe ; flatten this, or 
 rather hollow it a little in the middle, and drop in four or 
 five seeds round the edges ; as soon as the bean puts forth 
 its runners insert a pole of five or six feet in the centre of 
 the hill ; the })lants will all meet and twine up it, bearing 
 a profusion of pods, which are cut and foiled as the scar- 
 let-runners, or else, in their dry or ripe state, stewed and 
 eaten with salt meat ; this, I believe, is the more usual 
 way of cooking them. The early bush-bean is a dwarf, 
 with briglit yellow seed. 
 
 Lettuces are very fine, and may be cultivated easily, 
 and very early, by transplanting the seedlings that appear 
 as soon as the ground is free from snow. Cabbages and 
 savoys, and all sorts of roots, keep during the winter in 
 the cellars or root-houses ; but to the vile custom ol 
 keeping green vegetables in the shallow, moist cellars 
 below the kitchens much of the sickness that attacks 
 settlers under the various forms of agues, intermittent, 
 remittent, and lake fevers, may be traced. 
 
 Many, of the lower class especially, are not sufficiently 
 
BOOT-HOUSE. 
 
 225 
 
 »( 
 
 careful in clearing these cellars from the decaying por- 
 tions of vegetable matter, which are often sutlered to 
 accumulate from year to year to infect the air of the 
 dwelling. Where the house is small, and the family nu- 
 merous, and consequently exposed to its influence by 
 night, the baneful consequences may be readily imagined. 
 " Do not tell me of lakes and swamps as the cause of fe- 
 vers and agues ; look to your cellars," was the observa- 
 tion of a blunt but experienced Yankee doctor. I verily 
 believe it was the cellar that was the cause of sickness in 
 our house all the spring and summer. 
 
 A root-house is indispensably necessary for the comfort 
 of a settler's family ; if well constructed, with double log- 
 walls, and the roof secured from the soaking in of the 
 rain or melting snows, it preserves vegetables, meat, and 
 milk excellently. You will ask, if the use be so great, 
 and the comfort so essential, why does not every settler 
 build one ? 
 
 Now, dear mamma, this is exactly what every new 
 comer says ; but he has to learn the difficulty there is at 
 first of getting these matters accomplished, unless, indeed, 
 he have (which is not often the case) the command of 
 plenty of ready money, and can aiford to employ extra 
 workmen. Labour is so expensive, and the working sea- 
 sons so short, that many useful and convenient buildings 
 arc left to a future time ; and a cellar, which one man 
 can excavate in two days, if he work well, is made to 
 answer the purpose, till the season of leisure arrives, or 
 necessity obliges the root-house to be made. We are 
 ourselves proof of this very sort of unwilling procrasti- 
 nation ; but the logs are now cut for the root-house, 
 and we shall have one early in the spring. I would, 
 however, recommend any one that could possibly do so 
 at first, to build a root-house without delay, and also to 
 have a well dug ; the springs lying very few feet below the 
 surface renders this neither laborious nor very expensive. 
 The creeks will often fail in very dry weather, and the 
 lake and river waters grow warm and distasteful during 
 the spring and summer. The spring- waters are generally 
 
 :!i 
 
 ;i! I 
 
 ' ; l! 
 
 II ' 
 
 u 
 
226 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 ^yj 
 
 cold and pure, even in the hottest weather, and delight- 
 fully refreshing. 
 
 Our winter seems now fairly setting in : the snow has 
 twice fallen, and as often disa|)j)eared, since the middle of 
 October; but now the ground is again hardening into 
 stone, the keen north-west wind is abroad, and every 
 outward object looks cold and wintry. The dark line of 
 pines that bound the opposite side of the lake is already 
 hoary and heavy with snow, while the half-frozen lake 
 has a deep leaden tint, which is only varied in shade by 
 the masses of ice which shoot out in long points, forming 
 mimic bays and peninsulas. The middle of the stream, 
 where the current is strongest, is not yet frozen over, but 
 runs darkly along like a river between its frozen banks. 
 In some parts vvhere the banks are steep and overhung 
 with roots and shrubs, the fallen snow and water take the 
 most fantastic forms. 
 
 I have stood of a bright winter day looking with infi- 
 nite delight on the beautiful mimic waterfalls congealed 
 into solid ice along the bank of the river, and by the 
 mill-dam ; from contemplating these petty frolics of Father 
 Frost, I have been led to picture to myself the sublime 
 scenery of the arctic regions. 
 
 In spite of its length and extreme severity, I do like 
 the Canadian winter : it is decidedly the healthiest sea- 
 son of the year; and it is no small enjoyment to be 
 exempted from the torments of the insect tribes, that are 
 certainly great drawbacks to your comfort in the warmer 
 months. 
 
 We have just received your last packet — a thousand 
 thanks for the contents. We are all delighted with your 
 useful presents, especially the warm shawls and mennos. 
 My little James looks extremely well in his new frock 
 and cloak — they will keep him very warm this cold wea- 
 ther : he kissed the pretty fur-lined slippers you sent me, 
 and said, *' Pussy, pussy!" By the way, we have a 
 fine cat called Nora Creina, the parting gift of our friend 
 
 ■ , who left her as a keepsake for my bov. Jamie 
 
 dotes upon her ; and I do assure you I regard her almost 
 
 as 
 
 mi 
 
 niu 
 
 dis 
 
 ha 
 
 wh 
 
ANNOYANCE OF INSECTS. 
 
 227 
 
 
 as a second Whittington's cat : neither mouse nor cliit* 
 munk has dared intrude within our log-walls since she 
 made her appearance ; the very crickets, that used to 
 distract us with their chirping from morning till night, 
 have forsaken their old haunts. Besides the crickets, 
 which often swarm so as to become intolerable nui- 
 sances, destroying your clothes and woollens, we are pes- 
 tered by large black ants, that gallop about, eating up 
 sugar, i)reserves, cakes, anything nice they can gain ac- 
 cess to : these insects are three times the size of the black 
 ants of Britain, and have a most voracious appetite : when 
 they find no belter prey they kill each other, and that 
 w itli the fisrceness and subtlety of the spider. They 
 appear less sociable in their habits than other ants ; 
 though, from the numbers that invade your dwellings, I 
 should think they formed a community like the rest of 
 their species. 
 
 The first year's residence in a new log-house you are 
 disturbed by a continual creaking sound which grates 
 upon the ears exceedingly, till you become accustomed to 
 it : this is produced by an insect commonly called a 
 "sawyer." This is the larva of some fly that deposits 
 its eggs in the bark of the pine-trees. The animal in its 
 immature state is of a whitish colour; the body com- 
 posed of eleven rings ; the head armed with a pair of 
 short, hard pincers : the skin of this creature is so rough 
 that on passing your finger over it, it reminds you of a 
 rasp, yet to the eye it is perfectly smooth. You would 
 be surprised at the heap of fine sawdust that is to be 
 seen below the hole they have been working in all night. 
 These sawyers form a fine feast for the woodpeckers, and 
 jointly they assist in promoting the rapid decomposition 
 of the gigantic forest-trees, that would otherwise encum- 
 ber the earth from age to age. How infinite is that 
 Wisdom that rules the natural world I How often do we 
 see great events brought about by seemingly insignificant 
 agents! Yet are they all servants of the Most High, 
 working his will, and fulfilling his behests. One great 
 want which has been sensibly felt in this distant settle- 
 ment, I mean the want of public worship on the Sabbath* 
 
 i 
 
 5: 
 
 I' : 
 
 ■N 
 
228 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 day, promises to be speedily remedied. A subscription 
 is about to be opened among the settlers of this and part 
 of* the adjacent township lor the erection of a small 
 building-, which may answer the purpose of church and 
 school-house ; also for the means of paying a minister for 
 
 stated seasons of attendance. has allowed his 
 
 parlour to be used as a temporary church, and service has 
 been several times performed by a highly respecttible 
 young Scotch clergyman ; and I can assure you we have 
 a considerable congregation, considering how scattered 
 the inhabitants are, and that the emigrants consist of 
 Catholics and Dissenters, as well as Episcopalians. 
 
 These distinctions, however, are not carried to such 
 lengths in this country as at home, especially where the 
 want of religious observances has been sensibly felt. The 
 word of God appears to be listened to with gladness. 
 May a blessing attend those that in spirit and in truth 
 would restore again to us the public duties of the Sab- 
 bath, which, left to our own guidance, we are but too 
 much inclined to neglect. 
 
 Farewell. 
 
 
 
 ^m 
 
( 229 ) 
 
 Letter XVIII. 
 
 I 
 
 
 I . 
 
 I' 1 
 
 '! Ill 
 
 l?usy Spring. — Increase of Society and Comfort. — Recol- 
 lections of Home. — Aurora Borealis. 
 
 y 
 
 This has been a busy spring with us. First, sugar- 
 making on a larger scale than our first attemj)t was, and 
 since that we had workmen making considerable addition 
 to our house ; we have built a large and convenient 
 kitchen, taking the former one for a bed-room ; the root- 
 house and dairy are nearly completed. We have a well 
 of excellent water close beside the door, and a fine frame- 
 barn was finished this week, which includes a good granary 
 and stable, with a place for my poultry, in which I take 
 great delight. 
 
 Besides a fine brood of fowls, the produce of two hens 
 and a cock, or rooster, as the Yankees term that bird, I 
 have some ducks, and am to have turkeys and geese this 
 summer. I lost several of my best fowls, not by the hawk, 
 but a horrid beast of the same nature as our polecat, 
 called here a skunk : it is far more destructive in its nature 
 than either fox or the hawk, for he comes like a thief in 
 the night and invades the perch, leaving headless me- 
 mentos of his barbarity and blood-thirsty ])ropensities. 
 
 We are having the garden, which hitherto has been 
 nothing but a square enclosure for vegetables, laid out in 
 a prettier form ; two half-circular wings sweep off from 
 the entrance to each side of the house ; the fence is a 
 sort of rude basket or hurdle -work, such as you see at 
 home, called by the country folk wattled fence : this 
 forms a much more picturesque fence than those usually 
 put up of split timber. 
 
 Along this little enclosure I have begun planting a sort 
 of flowery hedge with some of the native shrubs that 
 abound in our woods and lake-shores. 
 
 L 3 
 
 iil 
 
230 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 :^^^'^' 
 
 
 m 
 
 Among those already introduced are two species of 
 shrubby honeysuckle, white and rose-blossomed : these are 
 called by the American botanists quilostium. 
 
 Then I have the white Spircea frutex^ which grows 
 profusely on the lake-shore ; the Canadian wild rose ; the 
 red-flowering raspberry (rtibus spectabilis), leather-wood 
 {dircas)y called American mezereon, r; moose-wood: 
 this is a very pretty, and at the same time useful shrub, 
 the bark being used by farmers as a substitute for cord in 
 tying sacks, &c. ; the Indians sew their birch-bark baskets 
 with it occasionally. 
 
 Wild gooseberry, red and black currants, apple-trees, 
 with here and there a standard hawthorn, the native tree 
 bearing nice red fruit I named before, are all I have as 
 yet been able to introduce. 
 
 The stoup is up, and I have just planted hops at the 
 base of the pillars. I have got two bearing shoots of a 
 purple wild grape from the island near us, which I long 
 to see in fruit. 
 
 My husband is in good spirits ; our darling boy is well, 
 and runs about everywhere. We enjoy a pleasant and 
 friendly society, which has increased so much within the 
 last two years that we can hardly regret our absence from 
 the more populous town. 
 
 My dear sister and her husband are comfortably settled 
 in their new abode, and have a fine spot cleared and 
 cropped. We often see them, and enjoy a chat of home 
 — sweet, never-to-bc forgotten home; and cheat our- 
 selves into the fond belief that, at no very distant time, 
 we may again retrace its fertile fields and flowery dales. 
 
 With what ^delight we should introduce our young 
 Canadians to their grandmother and aunts ; my little 
 bushman shall early be taught to lisp the names of those 
 unknown but dear friends, and to love the lands that gave 
 birth to his parents, the bonny hills of the north and my 
 own beloved England. 
 
 Not to regret mv absence from my native land, and 
 one so fair and lovely withal, would argue a heart of in- 
 sensibility ; yet I must say, for all its roughness, I love 
 Canada, and am as happy in my humble log-house as if it 
 
' li 
 
 CLIMATE OF UPPER CANADA. 
 
 231 
 
 ';■; 
 
 species of 
 : these are 
 
 lich grows 
 I rose ; the 
 ither-wood 
 ose-wood : 
 jful shrub, 
 for cord in 
 irk baskets 
 
 )ple- trees, 
 lative tree 
 have as 
 
 ops at the 
 loots of a 
 ch I long 
 
 )y is well, 
 asant and 
 vhh'in the 
 L*nce from 
 
 ly settled 
 ared and 
 ; of home 
 leat our- 
 ant time, 
 y dales, 
 ir young 
 my little 
 of those 
 :hat gave 
 1 and my 
 
 Eind, and 
 rt of in- 
 8, I love 
 seas if it 
 
 were courtly hall or bower ; habit reconciles us to many 
 things that at first were distasteful. It has ever been my 
 way to extract the sweet rather than the bitter in the cup 
 of life, and surely it is best and wisest so to do. In a 
 country where constant exertion is called for from all ages 
 and degrees of settlers, it would be foolish to a degree to 
 damp our energies by complaints, and cast a gloom over 
 our homes by sitting dejectedly down to lament for all 
 that was so dear to us in the old country. Since we are 
 here, let us make the best of it, and I ear with cheerful- 
 ness the lot we have chosen. I believe that one of the 
 chief ingredients in human happiness is a capacity for 
 enjoying the blessings we possess. 
 
 Though at our first outset we experienced many disap- 
 pointments, many unlooked-for expenses, and many an- 
 noying delays, with some wants that to us seemed great 
 privations, on the whole we have been fortunate, especi- 
 ally in the situation of our land, which has increased in 
 value very considerably ; our chief difficulties are now 
 over, at least we hope so, and we trust soon to enjoy the 
 comforts of a cleared farm. 
 
 My husband is becoming more reconciled to the coun- 
 try, and I daily feel my attachment to it strengthening. 
 The very stumps that appeared so odious, through long 
 custom, seem to lose some of their hideousness : the eye 
 becomes familiarized even with objects the most dis- 
 pleasing, till they cease to be observed. Some century 
 hence, how different will this spot appear ! I can picture 
 it to my imagination with fertile fields and groves of 
 trees planted by the hand of taste; — all will l)e difi'erent; 
 our present rude dvvellings will have gi^^en place to others 
 of a more elegant style of architecture, and comfort and 
 grace will rule the scene which is now a forest wild. 
 
 You ask me if I like the climate of Upper Canada ; to 
 be candid, I do not think it deserves all that travellers 
 have said of it. The summer heat of last year was very 
 oppressive ; the drought was extreme, and in some re- 
 spects proved rather injurious, especially to the potato- 
 crop. The frosts set in early, and so did the snows; as 
 to the far-famed Indian summer it seems to have taken 
 
 Iff. 
 h 
 
 I ! 
 
232 
 
 BACKWOODS OF CANADA. 
 
 i 
 
 
 its farewell of the land, for little of it have we seen during 
 three years' residence. Last year there was not a sem- 
 blance of it, and this year one horrible dark gloomy day, 
 that reminded me most forcibly of a London fogr, and 
 which was to the full as dismal and depressing, was de- 
 clared by the old inhabitants to be the commencement of 
 the Indian summer ; the sun looked dim and red, and a 
 yellow lurid mist darkened the atmosphere, so that it be- 
 came almost necessary to light candles at noonday. If this 
 be Indian summer, then might a succession of London 
 fogs be termed the ** London summer,'* thought I, as I 
 groped about in a sort of bewildering dusky light all that 
 day ; and glad was I when, after a day or two's heavy 
 rain, the frost and snow set in. 
 
 Very variable, as far as our experience goes, this cli- 
 mate has been ; no two seasons have been at all alike, and 
 it is supposed it will be still more variable as the work of 
 clearing the forest goes on from year to year. Near the 
 rivers and great lakes the climate is much milder and more 
 equable ; more inland, the snow seldom falls so as to al- 
 low of sleighing for weeks after it has become general ; 
 this, considering the state of our bush-roads, is rather a 
 point in our favour, as travelling becomes less laborious, 
 though still somewhat rough. 
 
 I have seen the aurora borealis several times ; also a 
 splendid meteoric phenomenon that surpassed everything 
 I had ever seen or even heard of before. I was very 
 much amused by overhearing a young lad giving a gen- 
 tleman a description of the appearance made by a cluster 
 of the shooting-stars as they followed each other in quick 
 succession athwart the sky. " Sir," said the boy, " I 
 never saw such a sight before, and I can only liken the 
 chain of stars to a logging-chain." Certainly a most 
 natural and unique simile, quite in character with the 
 occupation of the lad, whose business was often with the 
 oxen and their logging-chain, and after all not more 
 rustic than the familiar names given to many of our most 
 superb constellations — Charles's wain, the plough, the 
 sickle, &c. 
 
 Coming home one night last Christmas from the house 
 
AURORA BOBEALIS. 
 
 233 
 
 of a friend, I was struck by a spcndid pillar of pale 
 greenish light in the w est : it rose to some height above 
 the dark line of pines that crow ned the opposite shores 
 of the Otanabee, and illumined the heavens on either side 
 with a chaste pure light, such as the moon gives in her 
 rise and sitting; it was not quite pyramidical, though 
 much broader at the base than at its highest point ; it 
 gradually faded, till a faint white glimmering light alone 
 marked where its place had been, and even that disap- 
 peared after some naif-hour's time. It was so fair and 
 lovely a vision, I was grieved when it vanished into thin 
 air, and could have cheated fancy into the belief that it 
 was the robe of some bright visitor from another and a 
 better world. Imagination apart, could it be a phos- 
 
 {)horic exhalation from some of our many swamps or in- 
 and lakes, or was it at all connected with the aurora that 
 is so frequently seen in our skies ? 
 
 I must now close this epistle : I have many letters to 
 prepare for friends, to whom I can only write when I have 
 the opportunity of free conveyance, the inland postage 
 being very high ; and you must not only pay for all you 
 receive but all you send to and from New York. 
 Adieu, my kindest and best of friends. 
 
 ''•I 
 
 ii 
 
 II 
 
 Douro, May 1st, 1835. 
 
f*»L' 
 
 m 
 
 ii 
 
 m 
 w 
 n 
 
 sk 
 in 
 
 its 
 
 ga 
 til 
 
 pr 
 
 ca 
 
 m( 
 
 ac 
 
 w] 
 
 qu 
 
 tu 
 
 foi 
 
 th 
 
 4 
 
 I 
 
 mi 
 mi 
 cu 
 ki 
 
( 236 ) 
 
 NOTES 
 
 Furnished in 1836, 
 
 Note A. — p. 80.— -Soft Soap. 
 
 Of the making of soft soap I can give little or no correct 
 information, never having been given any certain rule my- 
 self; and my own experience is too limited. I was, how- 
 ever, given a hint from a professional gentleman, which I 
 mean to act upon forthwith. Instead of boiling the soap, 
 which is some trouble, he assured me the best plan was to 
 run off the ley from a barrel of ashes : into this ley I might 
 put four or five pounds of any ort of grease, such as pot 
 skimmings, rinds of bacon, or scraps from frying down suet ; 
 in short, any refuse of the kind would do. The barrel with 
 its contents may then be placed in a secure situation in the 
 garden or yard, exposed to the sun and air. In course of 
 time the ley and grease become incorporated ; if the grease 
 predominates, it will be seen floating on the surface ; in such 
 case add more ley ; if the mixture does not thicken, add 
 more grease. Now, this is the simplest, easiest, and clearest 
 account I have yet received g'h the subject of soap-making, 
 which hitherto has seemed a mystery, even though a good 
 quantity was made last spring by one of my servants, and it 
 turned out well : but she could not tell why it succeeded, 
 for want of being able to explain the principle she worked 
 from. 
 
 Note B. — p. 80. — Candles. 
 
 Every one makes tlieir own candles (i.e., if they have any 
 materials to make them from). The great difficulty of 
 making candles — ^and, as far as I see, the onlj one — is pro- 
 curing the tallow, which a bush-settler, until he begins to 
 kill his own beef, sheep, and hogs, is rarely able to do, unless 
 he buys; and a settler buys nothing that he can h.lp. A 
 
Inl 
 
 23G 
 
 NOTE?. 
 
 COW, however, that is unprofitable, old, or unlikely to t^ur- 
 vive the severity of the coming winter, is often suffered to 
 go dry during the summer, and get her own living, till she 
 is fit to kill in the fall. Such an animal is often slaughtered 
 very advantageously, especially if the settler have little 
 fodder for his cattle. The beef is often excellent, and good 
 store of candles and soap may be made from the inside fat. 
 These candles, if made three parts beef and one part hogs'- 
 lard, will burn better tlian any store-candles, and coFt less 
 than half-price. The tallow is merely melted in a pot or 
 pan convenient for the purpose, and having run the cotton 
 wicks into the moulds (tin or pewter moulds for six candles 
 cost three shillings at the stores, and last many, many years), 
 a stick or skewer is passed through the loops of your wicks, 
 at the upper part of the stand, which serve the purpose of 
 drawing the candles. The melted fat, not too hot, but in a 
 Huid state, is then poured into the moulds till they are full ; 
 as the fat gets cold it shrinks, and leaves a hollow at the top 
 of the mould : this requires filling up when quite cold. If 
 the candles do not draw readily, plunge the mould for an 
 instant into hot water, and the candles will come out easily. 
 Many persons prefer making dip-candles for kitchen use ; 
 but for my own part I think the trouble quite as great, and 
 give the preference, in point of neatness of look, to the 
 moulds. It may be, mv maid and I did not succeed so well 
 in making the dips as the moulds. 
 
 ■sTl'^^'l 
 
 Note C. — p. 120. — Maple Sugar. 
 
 This spring I have made maple-sugar of a much finer 
 colour and grain than any I have yet seen ; and have been 
 assured by many old settlers it was the best, or nearly the 
 best, they had ever met with : which commendation induces 
 me to give the plan I pursued in manufacturing it. The 
 sap having been boiled down in the sugar-bush from about 
 sixteen pailsful to two, I first passed it through a thin 
 flannel bag, after the manner of a jelly-bag, to strain it 
 from the first impurities, which are great. I then passed 
 the liquor through another thicker flannel into the iron pot, 
 in which I purposed boiling down the sugar, and while yet 
 cold, or at best but lukewarm, beat up the white of one egg 
 to a froth, and spread it gently over the surface of the 
 liquor, watching the pot carefully after the fire began to heat 
 
 ■0''^- 
 
NOTES. 
 
 237 
 
 it, that I might not sufTer the scum to boil into the sugar. A 
 few minutes before it conies to u hoil, the scum must he 
 carefully removed with a skimmer or ladle — the former is 
 best. 1 consider that on the care taken to remove every 
 particle of scum depends, in a great measure, the brightness 
 and clearness of the sugar. The best rule I can give as to 
 the sugaring-oft", as it is termed, is to let the liquid continuo 
 at a fast boil : only l)e careful to keep it from coming over 
 by keeping a little of the liquid in jour stirring-ludle, and 
 when it boils up to the top, or you see it rising loo fast, 
 throw in a little from time to time to keep it down ; or if 
 you boil on a cooking-stove, throwing open one or all the 
 doors will prevent boiling over. Those that sugar-otf out- 
 side the house have a wooden crane iixed against a stump, 
 the fire being lighted against the stump, and the kettle sus- 
 pended on the crane : by this simple contrivance (for any 
 bush-boy can fix a crane of the kind), the sugar need never 
 rise over if conmion attention be paid to the boiling ; but it 
 does require constant watching : one idle glance may waste 
 much of the precious fluid. I had only a small cooking- 
 stove to boU my si' ar on, the pots of which were thought 
 too small, and not well shaped, so that at first my fears were 
 that I must relinquish the trial ; but I persevered, and expe- 
 rience convinces me a stove is an excellent furnace for the 
 purpose ; as you can regulate the heat as you like. 
 
 One of the most anxious periods in the boiling I found to 
 be when the liquor began first to assume a yellowish frothy 
 appearance, and cast up so great a volume of steam from \t8 
 surface as to obscure the contents of the pot ; as it may then 
 rise over almost unperceived by the most vigilant eyv^ As 
 the liquor thickens into molasses, it becomes a fi>H; yellow, 
 and seems nothing but thick froth. When it is getting 
 pretty well boiled down, the drops begin to fall clear and 
 ropy from the ladle ; and if you see little bright grainy- 
 looking bubbles in it, drop some on a cold plate, and con- 
 tinue to stir or rub it till it is quite cold : if it is ready to 
 granulate, you will find it gritty, and turn whitish or pale 
 straw colour, and stiflF. The sugar may then safely be 
 poured off into a tin dish, pail, basin, or any other utensil. 
 I tried two different methods after taking the sugar from the 
 fire, but could find little difference in the look of the sugar, 
 except that in one the quantity was broken up more com- 
 pletely ; in the other the sugar remained in large lumps, but 
 equally pure and sparkliiig. In the first I kept stirring the 
 
238 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 
 sugar till it began to cool and form a whitish thick substance, 
 and the grains were well crystallized; in the other process 
 — which I think preferable, as being the least troublesome 
 — 1 waited till the mass was hardened into sugar, and then, 
 piercing the crust in many places, I turned the mass into a 
 cullender, and placed the cullender over a vessel to receive 
 the molasses that drained from the sugar. In the course of 
 the day or two, I frequently stirred the sugar, which thus 
 became perfectly free from moisture, and had acquired a 
 fine sparkling grain, tasting exactly like sugar-candy, free 
 from any taste of the maple-sap, and fit lor any purpose. 
 
 I observed that in general maple-sug r, as it is commonly 
 made, is hard and compact, showing lit\ e grain, and weigh- 
 ing very heavy in proportion to its bulk. Exactly the re- 
 verse is the case with that I made, it being extremely light 
 for its bulk, all the heavy molasses having been separated, 
 instead of dried into the sugar. Had the present season 
 been at all a favourable one, which it was not, we should have 
 made a good quantity of excellent sugar. 
 
 ,,-»«(, 
 
 Note D. — p. 120. — Vinegar, 
 
 By boiling down five gallons of sap to one, and when just 
 a little above the heat of new milk, putting in a cupful of 
 barm (hop-rising will do if it be good), and letting the 
 vessel remain in your kitchen chimney-corner during the 
 summer, and perhaps longer, you will obtain a fine, cheap, 
 pleasant, and strong vinegar, fit for any purpose. This plan 
 I have pursued successfully two years. Care must be taken 
 that the cask or keg be well seasoned and tight before the 
 vinegar is put in ; as the dryness of the summer heat is apt 
 to shrink the vessel, and make it leak. If putty well 
 wrought, tar, or even yellow soap, be rubbed over the seams, 
 and round the inner rim of the head of the cask, it will 
 preserve it from opening. The equal temperature of the 
 kitchen is preferred by experienced housewives to letting 
 the vinf?gar stand abroad ; they aver the coldness of the 
 nights in this country is prejudicial to the process, being as 
 speedily perfected as if it underv/ent no such check. By 
 those well skilled in the manufacture of home-made wines 
 and beer, excellent maple-wine and beer might be produced 
 at a very trifiing expense ; n e., that of the labour and skill 
 exercised in the making it. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 239 
 
 Every settler grows, as an ornament in his garden, or 
 should grow, hops, which form one of the principal compo- 
 nents of maple-beer when added to the sap. 
 
 NoTi:; E. — p. 141. — Hop-Rising. 
 
 This excellent, and, ! might add, indispensable article in 
 every settler's house, is a valuable substitute for ale or beer 
 yeast, and is made in the following simple manner : — Take 
 two double handfuls of hops, boil in a gallon of soft water, 
 if you can get it, till the hops sink to the bottom of the ves- 
 sel , make ready a batter formed by stirring a dessert-plate- 
 ful of flour and cold water till smooth and pretty thick 
 together ; strain the hop-liquor while scalding hot into the 
 vessel where your batter is mixed ready ; let one person pour 
 the hop-liquor while the other keeps stirring the batter. 
 When cooled down to a gentle warmth, so that you can bear 
 the finger well in it, add a cupful or basinful of the former 
 barm, or a bit of leaven, to set it to work ; let the barm stand 
 till it has worked well, then bottle and cork it. Set it by in 
 a cellar or cool place if in summer, and in winter it is also 
 the best place to keep it from freezing. Some persons add 
 two or three mealy potatoes boiled and finely bruised, and it 
 is a great improvement during the cool months of the year. 
 Potatoes in bread may be introduced very advantageously ; 
 and to first settlers, who have all their flour to buy, I think it 
 must be a saving. 
 
 The following method I found made more palatable and 
 lighter bread than flour mixed in the usual way : — Supposing 
 1 wanted to make up about a stone and half of flour, I boiled 
 (having first pared them carefully) — say three dozen — good 
 sized potatoes in about three quarts or a gallon of water, till 
 the liquor had the appearance of a thin gruel, and the pota- 
 toes had become almost entirely incorporated with the water. 
 With this potato-gruel the flour was mixed up, no water be- 
 ing required, unless by chance I had not enough of the 
 mixture to moisten my flour sufficiently. The same process 
 of kneading, fermenting with barm, &c., is pursued with the 
 dough, as with other bread. In baking, it turns of a bright 
 light brown, and is lighter than bread made after the com- 
 mon process, and therefore I consider the knowledge of it 
 serviceable to the emigrant's family. 
 
240 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 ^t'^;.^' 
 
 m 
 
 m. ' . 
 
 Note E. — (continued) — Salt-Rising. 
 
 This is a barm much used by the Yankee settlers ; but 
 though the bread is decidedly whiter, ar.d prettier to look at, 
 than that raised in any other way, the peculiar flavour it 
 imparts to the bread renders it highly disagreeable to some 
 persons. Another disadvantage is, the difficulty of fermenting 
 this barm in the winter season, as it requires a temperature 
 •which is very difficult to preserve in a Canadian winter day. 
 Moreover, after the barm has once reached its height, unless 
 immediately made use of, it sinks, and rises again no more : 
 careful people, of course, who know this peculiarity, are on 
 the watch, being aware of the ill consequences of heavy 
 bread, or having no bread but bannocks in the house. 
 
 As near as I can recollect, the salt-rising is made as 
 follows : — For a small baking of two or three loaves, or one 
 large bake-kettle-loaf (about the size of a London peck loaf), 
 take about a pint of moderately warm water (a pleasant 
 heat to the hand), and stir into the jug or pot containing it 
 as much flour as will make a good batter, not too thick : adc^ t(» 
 this half a tea- spoonful of salt, not more, and set the vessel i. 
 a pan of moderately warm water, within a little distance oi 
 the fire, or in the sun : the water that surrounds the pot in 
 which your rising is, must never be allowed to cool much 
 below the original heat, more warm water being added (in 
 the pan, not to the barm) till the whole is in an active state 
 of fermentation, which will be from six to eight hours, when 
 the dough must be mixed with it, and as much warm water 
 or milk as you require. Knead the mass till it is tough, and 
 does not stick to the board. Make up your loaf or loaves, 
 and keep them warmly covered near the fire till they rise : 
 they must be baked directly this second rising takes place. 
 Those that bake what I term a shanty loafy in an iron bake- 
 pot, or kettle, placed on the hot embers, set the dough to rise 
 over a very few embers, or near the hot hearth, keeping the 
 pot or pan turned as the loaf rises ; when equally risen all 
 over they put hot ashes beneath and upon the lid, taking 
 care not to let the heat be too fierce at first. As this is the 
 most common method of baking, and the first that a settler 
 sees practised, it is as well they should be made familiar with 
 it beforehand. At first I was inclined to grumble and rebel 
 against the expediency of bake-pans or bake-kettles ; but as 
 cooking-stoves, iron ovens, and even brick and clay-built 
 
NOTES. 
 
 241 
 
 [G. 
 
 settlers; but 
 ier to look at, 
 ar flavour it 
 •able to some 
 jf fermenting 
 temperature 
 n winter day. 
 leight, unless 
 ain no more : 
 iarity, are on 
 ces of heavy 
 bouse. 
 
 ; is made as 
 loaves, or one 
 m peck loaf), 
 r (a pleasant 
 containing it 
 thick : ad(^ t(> 
 t the vessel i. 
 le distance oi 
 ds the pot in 
 ;o cool much 
 ig added (in 
 n active state 
 hours, when 
 warm water 
 is tough, and 
 laf or loaves, 
 11 they rise : 
 takes place, 
 in iron bake- 
 dough to rise 
 , keeping the 
 ally risen all 
 e lid, taking 
 \s this is the 
 that a settler 
 'amiliar with 
 ble and rebel 
 ttles ; but as 
 id clay-built 
 
 ovens, will not start up at your bidding in the bush, these 
 substitutes are valuable, ard perform a number of uses. I 
 have eaten excellent light bread, baked on the emigrant's 
 hearth in one i2/f these kettles. 1 have eaten boiled potatoes, 
 baked meats, excellent stews, and good soups, all cooked at 
 diifereut times in this universally useful utensil : so let it 
 not be despised. It is one of those things peculiarly adapted 
 to the circumstances of settlers in the bush before they have 
 collected those comforts about their homesteads, within and 
 without, that are the reward and the slow gleaning-up of 
 many years of toil. 
 
 There are several other sorts of rising similar to the salt- 
 rising. " Milk-rising," which is mixed with milk, warm 
 from the cow, and about a third warm water ; and " bran- 
 rising," which is made with bran instead of flour, and is 
 preferred by many persons to either of the former kinds. 
 
 Note F. — p. 145. — Pickling, 
 
 The great want of spring vegetables renders pickles a 
 valuable addition to the table at the season when potatoes 
 have become unfit and distasteful. If you have been fortu- 
 nate in your maple-vinegar, a store of pickled cucumbers, 
 beans, cabbage, &c., may be made during the latter part of the 
 summer ; but if the vinegar should not be fit at that time, there 
 are two expedients : one is to make a good brine of boiled salt 
 and water, into which throw your cucumbers, &c. (the calv 
 bage, by the by, may be preserved in the root-house or cel- 
 lar quite good, or buried in pits, well covered, till you want 
 to make your pickle). Those vegetables, kept in brine, 
 must be covered close, and when you wish to pickle them, 
 remove the top layer, which are not so good ; and having 
 boiled the vinegar with spices, let it stand till it is cold. The 
 cucumbers should previously have been well washed and 
 soaked in two or three fresh waters, and drained ; then put 
 in a jar, and the cold vinegar poured over them. The ad- 
 vantage of this is obvious ; you can pickle at any season. 
 Another plan, and I have heard it much commended, is 
 putting the cucumbers into a mixture of whiskey* and water, 
 
 ♦ In the * Backwoodsman/ this whiskey-receipt is meii- 
 tned as an abominable compound: perhaps the witty author 
 
 tioned as 
 
^m 
 i ^^^.>i 
 
 242 
 
 irOTES. 
 
 -which in time turns to a fine -vinegar, and preserves the 
 colour and crispness of the vegetable ; while Uie vinegar is 
 apt to make them soft, especially if poured on boiling hot, 
 as is the usual practice. 
 
 had tasted the pickles in an improper state of progression. He 
 gives a lamentable picture of American cookery, but declares 
 the badness arises from want of proper receipts. These yeast- 
 receipts will be extremely useful in England ; as the want of 
 fresh yeast is often severely felt in country districts. 
 
 [a 
 
 -■'M^ 
 
 THE ANO. 
 
 Mm 
 
preserves the 
 
 he vinegar is 
 
 boiling hot, 
 
 i 243 ) 
 
 ^ression. He 
 but declares 
 These yeast- 
 
 I the want of 
 
 Its. 
 
 r*^ 
 
 'I 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 1. Peter, the Chief 
 
 
 To face Title Page 
 
 2. Falls of Montraorenci 
 
 
 
 . 21 
 
 3. Sleigh-driving , 
 
 
 
 . 53 
 
 4. Silver Pine , 
 
 
 • 
 
 55 
 
 6. Spruce . . 
 
 
 
 . 59 
 
 6, Log-house 
 
 
 • 
 
 . 75 
 
 7. Log-village.— Arrival of £ 
 
 I Stage-coach 
 
 77 
 
 8. Road through a Pine Forest 
 
 • ■ 
 
 . 85 
 
 9. Newly-cleared Land 
 
 • 
 
 • < 
 
 . 101 
 
 10. Papouses 
 
 • 
 
 • « 
 
 . 125 
 
 11. The Prairie 
 
 • 
 
 
 . 157 
 
 12. Snow Bunting 
 
 • 
 
 • « 
 
 . 167 
 
 London : Printed by VVilmam Clowes und Soxs Stamfonl-street.