VIKVV I'KOM THK DUNUAS MOUNTAIN Our Picturesque Northern Neighbor HISTORICAI. AND DESCRIFTIVE SKETCHES OF THE SCENERY AND LIFE IN AND AROUND TORONTO, ALONG THE CANADIAN SHORE OF LAKE HURON, IN THE NORTHWEST TER- RITORIES, AND IN BRITISH COLUiMHIA Enrrp:n by GEORGE MUNRO GRANT, I). I)„ i)ii;];n's inivi-rsity, Kingston, (inj-. LLUSTRATED BY WOOD-ENGRAVINGS FROM ORIGINAL DRAWINGS FY W. T. SMEDLEY, F. B. SCHELL, A. B. FROST, L. R. O'BRIEN, F. HOPKINSON SMITH, AND OTHERS ^ CHICAGO ALEXANDER BELFORD & CO. 1899 i[>5UUU ('Ai^.7 G, N\^ Coi'VKHiirr, iS(,.i 15v ALKXAXDKR l'.I.Ll-()RI) cV CO. CO NT I< NTS I'OkoNI'O AM) VICIMIV ikoM roRoxio \\i;si\\ARi) 15y G. MEJ-, it may be said, there is not a Canadian who has tlu; incident fresh in uiind, nor scarce a Toronioni.in, with the historic memory, who honours the lon^-ilismantletl fort with a visit I \'et, about this sjjot all the earlier history of Toronto, as a trading and military post, centres. Here, or a little to the west of the present stone barracks -vacant, alas! since H. M. i;,th Hussars in 1S67 closed the stablodoors and withdrew to I':n^land— stood the old j-rench fort of Toronto, or, as it was called otticially, b'ort Rouille. 'Idle fort, we learn from a despatch of M. (\v. Lon^ueinl, d.ited 1752, received its name from tin; b'rench Colonial Minister of \.\\v. period, .\ntoine Louis Rouille, COnnt de jouy. The design in (jstablishin,,n-oup then consisted of twe) families e>f Alissis- san-uas— and the bay and neighbouring marshes were the hitherto uninvaded haunts of immense coveys e)f wild-fowl." In this sanctuary of Nature, Governor .Siince)e proceeeleel to builel his civic and legislative altar, and to rear, under the name of Castle; Frank, a domestic shrine; among the semibre; pines of the- Don. With the erectie)n e)f primitive builelings for the meet- mg e)f the l^rovincial Legislature, a beginning was made to clear a site for the ie)wn. lender the governor's eye the building of the new capital had its first start, anel what at a late-r date was to be marked as the path of the sword, was meantime being we-aril)- won for the a.xe and the plough. Outside of the little clearing the spirit of the woods resteel upon the whole scene, for the' forests covered the Pro\ince as with a garment. Put the solelier-administrator hael a practical eye for his work, and speedily set the troops^the King's Rangers —to the necessary task of road-making, and the opening of lines of communieatie)n with the inte-rior. Yonge .Street, an arterial line some thirty miles in length, connecting the infant capital with the Holland River and the water- wa)- to the west, was the; first and great achievement of the troops. Dundas Street, a li 0( /k /'/CJ(h'/:SU(/: main post-road lra\ crsino- il,c I'roviiuc, ami .nivino- access lo the lari^r ami Iriiitfiif n-^ioii of scttlciiK'iit in tlic I'ciiiiisula, was another sagacious undertaking;. 1 liesc .i(ti\ities, however, were not of V^w^ cont iniiance, for in i jcjo l,ieiit.-l ieneral Sinu'oe was recalled to l''n-lns, and the passin- of an .'flective militia hill, with tlu> re.piisite -rant to defrav trainim; expenses. The necessity for these steps w.as shown four months afK^rwards, wIumi the- United .Slates C'on-ress ikxlared w.ir against (ireat Pritain, and directed th.at hostili- ties he immediately commenced hy an invasion of Canada. There is no nvvx\ here to recount the historv of the War of 1S12--15. -^ave as it connects itself with the fortunes of the Provincial capital, and with the fate of its heroic miliiarv governor. The war itself was a mistake, holh in.Hu; motive for iinadin- Canada and in the results exfiected from the invasion. The hitin^q- words in Connress of Randolph of Viroinia— " The people of Canada are tlrst to be seduced from their alle,L;iance, and convertc'd into traitors, as a preparation for making,'- them .i^^ooel Ameii- can citizens "—are an in^.pressive acknowledonient of the former; the issues of the contlict emidiasize the latter. 1-rom three separate cpiarters was Canada invaded, yet the year i,Si2 closed with disaster to the American arms. The loss to Canada was l)rincipally in the interruption to trade, in the amount of the war-lew, and in the withdrawal for service in the militia re-iments of the lal)f)ur that was wanted to open up the country. The loss to Britain was the death on Oueenston Heights of the fjallant Prock. Toronto had special reason to mourn the death of Hrock. not only in his having fallen while leading her citizen-soldiery against the invader, but more particular!)- in view of the events of the following year. The frosts of the winter of 181 2-1;, were scarc(-ly out of the ground ere th(; Americans were r(;ady once more to hurl their hosts against Canadian valour. Young Republicanism had not got over the acrimony of separation, r .. its soldiery were plunged in a wild eddy of war-fermenl, not yet seeing that the broad and beneficent stream of progress in the arts of peace was the true direction for the young life of the nation to take. It has become wiser since; .\V'A'/7//:A'.\ \i:ii.lllh'N ; .^-'-'*'^" ' but tho liloorl-hf'atintrs and the pajj^caiur)' ot war wvxv iioxcl cx- citcinciUs lor a iicoplc that had scarcely risen out of the colonial stai;c ; and there were dcleats in the |)re\ioiis \car's oiierations which luul to he rthiced in the presence ot \ ictory. THi; IXHU^rnON liKOUNDS. H o( K ricriRiisoLi': Unfortunately for the Provincial capital, its slender defences and the handful of troops in the t^arrison -now commanded i)y Major-Ceneral Shcaffe— could not avert the fate that menaceil it. On the 25th of April, Commodore Chauncey set out from Sackett's Harbour with a tlect of fourteen armed vessels and some 16,000 troops, with the object of capturin.i;- I'^ort Toronto. The attackino- force was under the command of Briiradier Pike, directed b\- General Dearborn, who nnnained on board the lla^-ship. On the evenin.o: of the 26th the fleet appeared outside the harbour, and on the follow- inj^r day the troops detailed to attack the fort were landed in the nei^t,dibourhood of the H umber River, and, under fu'e from the ships, proceeded to take the outworks, and to .scale the inner defences, which interposed but slight obstacles to the enemy. Con- scious of the weakness of his position, General Sheaffe had concluded to evacuate the fort, and had already fallen back upon the town. Passing through it with his few "regulars," he proceeded eastward, leaving the militia to make what farther defence they could, or to treat with the enemy. The latter, finding that the fire from the fort had suddenly ceased, and anticipating a surrender, pushed on in column to take possession. The next moment there was a terrific explosion, and General Pike, with over two hundred of his command, were shot into the air. The powder magazine, it seems, had been fired by an artillery sergeant of the retreating force to prevent it falling into the hands of the Americans, and the fuse was lit, from all accounts un- designedly, at a horribly inopportune moment. With the evacuation of the fort came the surrender of the town, and its subse- quent pillage— a grim pastime which seems to have been carried out in the spirit of the Revolutionary formula: "In the name of the great Jehovah and the Continental Congress!" p>om this disaster, and a farther one which occurred three months later— the result of another pillaging expedition from Chauncey's fieet— the town was slow to recover. The barracks had been burned, the storehouses plundered, and the public buildings and homes of the people had been laid waste. But time obliterates old scars, and the Toronto of to-day shows no signs of that early conflict. p:ven the animosities born of the period have long since disappeared. What the century has done for our neighbours in no inappreciable degree it has done for us; and both peoples have reason to be thankful for the blessings of the new ci qllzation it has been theirs so auspiciously to found and advance. But we have allowed the associations connected with the site of Fort Toronto to delay our entrance to the harbour, and, while plying the reader with incidents concerning the city's past, have detained him perhaps unduly on the threshold of the present. Before leaving the historic site, however, let the eye be caught by the domes, cupolas, and pinnacles that break the line of sky to the immediate westward. Their presence in this neighbourhood illustrates the saying that "peace hath her victories no less renowned than war," for here are to be seen annually all the features of a grand Avvv' rni-:RX XHiciiih y< IS > ■s. G O > M O 1 6 (HR riLTL'RliSOrh: spectacle — the competitive display of the natural products and the manufactures of the Province, with the tens of thousands who thronj^ the enclosures of the Exhibition ^rounds to see "Canada's Great Fair." I-'roni our point of view, train and steamer ma\- be seen rushint; past with their loads of living; friMoht, to discharge them at the entrance tjates of the park, where for a fortnight each autumn the Industrial lixhibition Association of Toronto la)s ever\- activity under tribute, to foster the airricultural and manufacturing industries of the country, to afford evidence of their marvellous growth, and especially to display the achievements of the year. The Association is now a mammoth organization, with a representation of horse and cattle breeders, farmers, millers, dairvmen, horticulturists, inventors, artists, manufacturers, and others whose exhibits are scattered through the spacious and well-adapted buildings which grace the sixtv-acre park owned by the Society. Though the Exhibition is now held under the auspices of a strong local organization, with large resources at its command, it is but fair to say that the credit of inaugurating and maintaining these annual shows is due to the Agricultural and Arts Association of Ontario, which for nearly forty years has been holding annual gatherings in alternate cities of the Province, to the great benefit of the farming communit)- and the practical advancement of the industrial arts. The present Exhibition Association was incorpt)rated in 1S79, and its acquire- ment of the grounds in which the exhibitions an; now held, and the spirit and enterprise shown in erecting the tasteful buildings on the site, and in adding to the amiual attractions of the P'air, are greatly to be commended, and well deserve the appreciation so heartily accordi^d by the pui)lic. As the visitor passes out from the grounds b)' the south exit, his eye will be arrested bv a commemorative cairn or mound, in an angle of the park opening out upon the lake. As outdoor historical records are rare in the New World, and especially so in the modern environment of a Fair ground, he will be likely to stop and decipher the chiselletl lines on the massive granite boulder before him. 'I hat the old and the new may together meet on our page, we give the inscription before pass- iui'- on to make the entry of the harbour : " This cairn marks the exact site of Fort RiHiille, conimonly l' '"■- der of the ("lovernment ol Louis .XV.. in .iccorchmce with tlic recommendations ■ of the Count de la (".alissoniere, Achiiin- istrator of New I'rance, 1 747-1749. Erected by the CorpoiMtion of the City of Toronto, A.I). 1878." We now steam slowly through the channel and sweep into the beautiful Bay of .\ OR THEN. \ \ lilGlIBOR '7 1 8 Oi-R PICTURESQUE Toronto, whose features have greatly changed since Fort Rouille, in what may be called the medieval period of Canadian history, stood warder over its entrance. The wash of the lake has years ago narrowed the channel, and made sad inroads upon that spur of land which long kept its integrity as a peninsula, but has now been frayed into islands — still struggling, however, to keep wind and wave from exercising their rude violence in the harbour. What "the mountain" is to the Montrealer, "the island" is to the people of Toronto. Until recently it was regarded simply as a fine natural breakwater, and the occasional resort of a few sportsmen. Now, it has become — to borrow a phrase from the sea-coast watering-places — "a great marine resort" of the townspeople, thousands of whom, all summer long, throng the ferries to its shores, to enjoy the cool breezes of the lake. The once flat and featureless marsh is to-day a waterside suburb of rapidly increasing interest. From Hanlan Point — the island-home of Toronto's noted oarsman — a beautiful view of the city may be had. The features of the island itself, moreover, — the stretches of v;'ater-meadow, the hotels, promenades, and quaint summer residences on its shores — present a picture of varied and pleasing outline. Lakeward, stretching out beyond Gibraltar Point, — the site of an old French block-house — is the great basin from which the city derives its water supply. The water is pumped up, through sunken mains laid across the bay and island, by powerful engines situated on the Esplanade. To the east is the fine, airy building of the Royal Canadian Yacht Club, a flourishing organization designed to encourage amateur yacht- ing and to supply the means of luxuriating in the adjacent lake. Still farther east, on a modest section of the peninsula, now encircled by the lapping waves of the lake, the Wiman Baths may be seen, their outline sharply mirrored in the sunny expanse of gleaming water in the bay. But the purposes to wiiich the island and water-surroundings of Toronto may be put, in affording the means of rest and enjoyment to its jaded citizens, are yet almost undreamt of. The whole of the lake-front of the island, and much of the Esplanade, might be converted into a continuous promenade or drive, with floating pontoons and occasional jetties thrown out lakeward, and the necessary adjunct of commodious hotels, at modest charges, for individual and family resort. The preservation of the island, meantime, is a pressing duty, and the Municipal authorities of the city will be criminally responsible if they continue to neglect it. The existence of the bay and harbour is imperilled by indifference. No time should be lost in protecting the island from the enroachments of the lake. Amazing, of course, have been the improvements which even recent residents have witnessed in the development and beautifying of the water-front of the city. The contrast, not only with the rough foreshore of the Simcoe period, and the squalid one of 1S34, when Toronto became a city, but with that of even ten years ago, is sharp in the extreme. To-day the view from ^ny elevation over- looking the bay, or the view of the city from the water, is a picture that, had it the NORTHERN lEIGHBOR i9 accompanying smoke and fog of an Old V ork! landscape, a Stanfield or a Turner might revel in. And what a scene for the pencil is a rowing match in the harbour, every species of craft gliding hither ana thit ler, or swept aside to form a clear water-lane for competing oarsmen ! Equally fin- is the view in winter, when the ice- boats wing their arrowy course over four thousand acres of gleaming crystal— their frosted sails afire in the January sun. But our steamer has meantime been steered to the landing-place, and she glides alongside the wharf to her moorings. At the foot of Yonge Street, and on the adjoin- ing wharves, the commerce of our inland waters empties itself. Coal from Pennsylvania, stone from Ohio, fruits of all Kh\ds, from the Niagara District and elsewhere, are piled upon the wharves, or are being carted off to he yards and warehouses. Here the ferries ply their local trade, and the tourist sets out to "do" Niagara, or, by way of the Thousand Islands, to run the rapids of the St. Lawrence, "take a look" at Montreal and Quebec, and, it may be, find his way to the sea. Crossing the Esplanade, monopo- lized by the railways, the traveller at once finds himself in the heart of the city. To the westward is the Union Station, the entrepot of railway travel, and thither, or to the steamers at the wharf, a stream of traffic sets almost continuously. Coaches and cabs are flying to and from the hotels. The street cars glide past, diverging, a short way on, towards various points. Pic-nicing parties or excursionists, bound for the ferries or for neighbouring towns, file bj- ; and wagons with their burden of freight lumber along, adding to the noise and confusion. Massive warehouses and piles of buildings block in the traffic, though the vista of crowded streets opens everywhere to view. The city, which covers an area of eight or ten square miles, is built on a low- lying plain, with a rising inclination to the upper or northern end, where a ridge bounds it, which was probably the ancient margin of the lake. Within this area there are close upon one hundred and twenty miles of streets, laid out after a rigid, chess-board pattern, though monotony is avoided by the prevalence of .boulevards and ornamental shade trees in the streets and avenues not given up to commerce. What the city lacks in picturesqueness of situation is atoned for in its beautiful harbour, and in the development of an aesthetic taste among the people, which finds expression in finely- embellished private grounds, and the increasing interest taken in public parks and gardens. Nor is this taste less apparent in the public buildings, which, in recent years, have been largely brought within the sphere of art. We have now less flimsj- sheet- iron ornament, and more of decorative work in stone. Individuality is asserting itself in the designs of many of the street-fronts, which, though they afford little room for the more ambitious combinations of the architect, present sufficient scope for the display of taste and the avoidance of weary repetition. Colour, especially in stone, is being noticeably introduced, and adds much to the grace and cheerfulness of the new- exteriors. In some instances, the ornamentation, particularly in intaglio and relievo 20 0( A' P/C7C 'RESOi TT W(irk, as yvi too closely copies the architects' patterns, and is a far remove from Nature. (In the whole. h()\ve\-er, there; is a cr:,'di- table tlispla\- of architectural taste ami skill, ami, notably in the case of some of tiu- recently erected churches, orijj^inalit\' and harmony of design. The Custom House, with its adjoininjr Ex- amining- Warehouse, is perhaps one of the most striking- in- stances of the new architectural n'ohiic. The sculptured heads and faces reveal exceptional art tastt'. The business done within this building- rates the city the second port of entrj- in the Do- minion, and constitutes it the TOWER AND SPIRE OK ST. JAMES'S CATHEDRAL. .\ '( )A' y IlERX i^EJGHBL )R 21 <,n-cat emporium of the Province. The vahie of i\\v. present annual importations is nearly twenty miUions of doHars, upon which a duty of four milhons is levied, 'riu- amount entered for exports for the year can he safel)' estimated at between five and six millions. Crossino- TVont Street, which runs parallel with the hay, and, from its proximity to the railways and the wharves, is now an important business thoroughfare, we pass the substantial stone edifice of the Toronto agency of the Hank of Montreal. The buildinj; has a quiet Threadneedle Street air about it, and like the conservatism which one meets with in the busiest haunts of the Mother Country, is old-fashioned enough to preserve, within its railed southern enclosure, some half-dozen umbrai^^eous trees, from which the ul)i(]uitous sparrow pours forth his incessant chatter. On the opposite side is the American Hotel, and a block and a half westward, on I-'ront Street, is " The Queen's." At the intersection of Wellington Street, we come upon the Bank of British North America, and to the east and west of it, are the headcpiarters of other financial corporations— the Ontario, Imperial, Toronto, Standard, and Federal Banks, the local agencies of the Quebec and Merchants, together with the central offices, surrounded by congeries of wires, of the Great North-Western Telegraph Co., and the mammoth warehouses of many trading and manufacturing tirms. Pursuing our way up Yonge Street, and passing the head office of the Bank of Commerce, we reach the city's most central point, the intersection of Yonge and King, at the south-west corner of which stands the Dominion liank. Here the stranger, after accustoming his eye to the movement of the streets, will endeavour to take in the scene before him. A continuous double stream of pedes- trians moves east and west, and, in like manner, up and down Yonge. Canadians are frequently twitted by their cousins across the line for the rigidity with which British influence and social habits are preserved in the Dominion. The expression, "How English is Toronto!" may often be heard; still, our English customs have not kept Canadian sentiment wholly monarchical. Nor has our English speech proved a better bond. It has already failed, in an earlier era in the history of this continent, to knit together those of one race and blood, though the links of connection may be longer in snapi)ing with us. But whatever fortune betides the Dominion, it will be long en; Britain and British ways cease to be cherislu^d in the hearts and on the soil of the Canadian people. It is not eas\-, even for the \isitor, with the sights and scenes before him, to dismiss from his mind the origin and national characteristics of a city, whose past is s intimately related to a people from whose loins its citizens have sprung, and froi nation whose colony it still is. The nomenclature of the streets, the traditions of the people, the men and women who have lived in it, and the physique and beauty of face and form of the present population-all speak of the motherland across the sea, and of so )m a 22 OCk' PlCTLRliSOili customs, habits, wmX institutions here faithfully reproduced. Nor are the streets them- selves, and tlv jjuhlic buildin_Ljs that adorn them, less eloquent of thc^ old land whence cam(' its sturd) life. True, thiTe is no portcullised gateway nor eml)rasurcd walls which the militar) spirit of the Old World has elsewhere reared as a stronghold and defence for the New. Toronto has neither the history that attaches to Ouebec, nor the position that has oivcn to that city its fame. Hut her [)ast. nevertheless, is not lacking in incident, though her annals, since the stirring era of 1812-15, are mainly those of peace. She has seen little of martial lif(,', save the disjjlays ot her citizen-soldiery in times of civil embroilment, or in connection with th(; \ohint(,:er cor|)s of recent days. During the time when the Imperial troo[)s were cpiartered in the town. King Street saw many a pageant which would have quickened the beat of the British heart ; but the sights its walls have mainly looked upon hav(; been the column-march of industry and social progress, occasionally varied by the fevered outbreaks of a chafing but re- strained democracy. To scan the thoroughfare to-day, with its stream of life, its almost conofested traffic, and the stores and magazines of commerce that line its either side, is to recall an earlier epoch, and, with a smile of amusement, to contrast it with the rude aspect of its first beginnings. Who that now looks upon its metro- politan characteristics — its civic dignity upborne by ulstered and helmeted constables making nocturnal notes by the glare of an electric-light ; its great newspaper ofifices ablaze with the tlame of fevered journalism ; its theatres turning a stream of fashion into the streets ; the cabs and street-cars ; — can fail to cast a thought backwards to the hugger-mugger life of an earlier social era, and to the forlorn condition, with its abounding pitfalls, of the same thoroughfare in the primitive days of " Muddy Little York." But we must leave these memories of the past to note in brief detail the sights of the modern cit)', and, turning one's vision from the glittering length of King Street by night, to present some aspects of this and other thoroughfares by day. For conven- ience, we will find it handier, in our notes by the way, to describe the features of the town in two sections ; first, those to be met with in a tour, starting from the corner of King and Yonge, round the eastern and north-eastern portions of the city ; and second- ly, from the same point of departure, to take within our observation the places of in- terest lying to the west and north-west. Setting out from our central point, and passing the retail stores, some of them with fine brown-stone fronts, that extend east- ward on our right from the corner of Yonge, we come to Toronto Street, the upper end of which is terminated by the Post Office, an imposing building in the Italian style of architecture, finely situated on the north side of Adelaide Street. The central position of Toronto Street, and the proximity of the Post Office, have attracted to the neighbourhood a number of Building and Loan Societies, Land and Insurance Com- panies, and other monetary and business corporations, whose oftices draw crowds to \()A' /'///■: A'. V \/:7( '///>'(> A' 23 N^ 4 %;**'■' ' '^'' ^ MKTKOl'OIJTAN (MKTHODIST) CHURCH. this and adjoining thorons;(hfares. The busi- ness done at the Toronto Post Office now exceeds that of any city in the Dominion. Its financial transactions amount annually to close upon two millions of dollars. There is a box and a street delivery, and a most efficient system for the collection of letters mailed in pillar boxes over every sec- tion of the town. The building- is constructed of Ohio stone with a finely carved fa fade, surmounted by a dome and clock, and over the entrance the Rojal Arms. The edifice on Toronto Street, which was formerly the Post Office — a fine specimen of Grecian architecture — is now used as a branch office of the Receiver-General's Department for the Dominion. Adjoining it are the Masonic Huildings- — in the style of modern Munich art — the upper portion being tlevoted to the purposes of the Masonic fraternity. Opposite, on Court Street, and abutting on the County Court buildings, are the headquarters of the Police Department and the Fire Hrigade. The Police I'orce is composed of a fine body of men, one hundred and twenty strong, well-drilled, accoutred and uniformed, and ably officered. Equally well-equipped is the F"ire Brigade, H or A' iicrrRi-soi'E an oi'ijanizatioii of txccptioiial importance to xXw. city. Tlicn; arc ten lire stations in various parts (jf the town, and a conipietc system of t'lre-alann signal boxes. Attached to the hrii:iade are a hirj.;(? nnml^er of hos(!-reels, salvage waijons, horses, and the necessary apparatus for lire escape. Water is suppHed from hychants connected with the Water Works s\stem, which tap the mains at all convenient and necessar\' points. The water is obtained from the lake at a point regarded as bcNond the contaminating^ influence of the cit\- sewaj^^e. Recently the suj^^j^a'siion has been made to tlraw the city's water supply from Lake Simcoe, about fifty miles northward. The water would be exceptionally pure, and llu; su])ply as lar^je as desired ; while the fall from Lake Simcoe to the level of Lake Ontario, about four hundred anil forty feet, would give sufficient pressure for the extinguishing of f'irc; in the loftiest building. Surplus water could be storeil in n^servoirs in the neighbourhood of Yorkville, anil the waste turned to restlu'tic purposes in the Valley of the Don. The Gas service is general, and is provided by a private com- TORONTO STREET, AND POST OFFICE. XOA' ////■: AW M-K.llliOR 25 pany. All the chk-f streets, avenues, parks and public places are well lighted at the city's expense. Rejjfaininn King Street and turning eastward, we are again reniinileil of Toronto in the olden time— a lithographed drawing, familiar to tht? pioneers of the towns, having preservetl to us a glimpse of the portion of the city through which wc; are now passing. The sitt; was long known as Court House Square, and the picture re|)resents the scene as it was fifty years ago: — in the left foreground, a pret('ntious Jail ami Court House, with the " jxirish stocks" and a primitive ox-wagon in front; a few proinenaders and a line of modest buildings extending eastward on the right ; and in the central back- ground the church and wooden spire of St. James. In this place of public resort, the youth and fashion of the town, the brawling politician, anil many of the more staid of the populace lounged. Hi-re the political orator was wont to hold forth, anil the ecclesiastico-political discussions of the time were freely ventilated. 11 ail we a pre-hi.s- toric drip, how rich a portrait-gallery would have come down to us ! livery figure in the " Family Compact " administration would have been limned, — each successive governor, the local placemen, exhorters, and wirepullers, and most characteristic of all — the rampant reformers and agitators of the stormy period ! What a volume would this have been to place alongside Kay's "Edinburgh Portraits" or Cruickshank's "Carica- tures," to jostle our " Hogarth," or ':o get mixed up with one's early volumes of Punch! Hut the F'amily Compact, like the figures of the Dundas despotism in the Tory Government of Scotland at the beginning of the century, have not lacked annal- ists to preserve some record of their doings, nor an antiquarian, so imbued with the past, as to faithfully reproduce for us the men and their age.* But the rumble of street cars around us, and the graceful spire which shoots its gilt summit into the sky in our view, recall us to modern times, and to the evidences on every side of material prosperity and almost unrealizable civic growth. At the intersection of King and Church Streets stands St. James's (Episcopal) Cathetlral. In the early days of the city, when Toronto was known as " Little York," there stood a plain structure of wood, a few yards back from the road, and almost surrounded by the primeval forest. This was the first church of St. James. It was described by a writer previous to the war of 1S12 as "a meeting-house for Episcopalians." Here, under the rectorship of Dr. Stuart, and subsequent to the year 1S13, of Dr. Strachan, whose name for over fifty years was a household word throughout the Province, did the modest little building do duty as the Parish Church. In 1832, a more imposing structure was reared, but this was destroyed by fire in 1839, shortly after it had l)een * In the pages of Dr. Scadding's "Toronto of Old," the citizen of the Provincial Metropolis has for all time a mine of historic and biographic lore connected with its early days, which few cities of the New World Iiave been fortunate enough in such measure to possess. To this work and its author the present writer gratefully ackno-ledges his indebtedness for some of the material made use of in this sketch of the city. a6 rv A' /'/LlLRJiSol/': HORTICULTURAL GARDKNS. designated a Cathedral by the appointment of its rector as First Bishop of Upper Canada. The following )'ear, the date of the union of the two older Provinces, a noble building was erected, surmounted by a wooden spire. Ten years later, XOh' ////■:/< \ MiliillliOK 37 \\\\v\\ tilt: scoiirjrcd the cit)', somc! sparks ij;nitcd '.he tower, aiul the j^rand hiiililin^ Diicc more succumlx'd to ihf llaincs. The statel)' p Ic uhicli now meets the eye was l)eiiiiii soon afterwards l)y the much-tried conj^rej^ation ; Imt it was not read\ tor occu- pation till 1S5;,. I'he i)uiidinif is in the (ioliiic style, of the earl)' I'^n^lish period, and is hiiilt of white l)ri( 1^, diessed with < )hio stone. Its ieiii^fth is about two hnndred t(-et, tile width of transept ninel}-tive feet, and the heii^ht to the rid^c crestinys ei_nhly-four teel. The huihlini;' is divided, after ecclesiastical fashion, into nave and aisles, with apsidal chancel and vestries at the north, and vestibules and the L^rcat tower at the south v\\i.\. There are i^rallerir-, on three sides, that on the south hein^' appro|)riated to the or^an and clu-'ir. Ww. chancel is lilted up with a bishop's throne, stalls lor the canons, and an elaborately carvetl [iulpit and reading (.lesk. llnderneath the chanc(;l lie the mortal rcMuains of the tlrst Bishop of Toronto, and of the loiit^-lime Rector ol the Cathedral, the greatly beloved Dean Cirasett. 'The tower and spire arc; the most dis- tinL;uishin^' features of the edifice, their combined hi-i^ht, includinc^ the vane, beiniL,^ over three; hundred feet. In the tower is a costly peal of bells, and an illuminated clock, whose; dial, when ni,t;ht llint^s h(;r mantle over the city, can ')e read tar out on the lake. The cost of the whole edifice was not far from a quarter of a million ot dollars. 'To lh(; north of th(; Cathedral, and within its enclosure, is .St. James's .School House, and immediatel)- bevontl it, on the corner of Church and Adelaide .Streets, stands the Mechanic's Institute. The Institute has a well-supplied reading-room and a fair collection of books, though the cit)' stands much in need of a well-endowed Public Lil)rary, especially rich in the department of works of reference. lUit literary institutions, it must b(; said, have so far failed to interest the moneyed class in Toronto. Still following King .Street to the eastward, we come upon the .St. Lawrence llall and Market, antl to the south of the square, the headquarters of the Municipal Ciov- ernment and Cit)' Otitices. TIere the stranger will be less struck with the appearance of tile neighbourhood than with the scenes and incidents of the market-place. To this, the largest market in the city, are brought the; farm stock and garden products of tin; man\- rich homesteads throughout the adjacent country ; and, looking at the class that come to do business at its gates, it is easy to judge of the character of the Ontario y(;oman. Trom his s[)eech and accent, you surmise either he or his ancestry came from the motherland. He is almost invariably comfortably clad ; his horses are sleek and clean ; his wagons bright and in good order ; — and their contents denoting the; frugal, well-to-do husbandman. His wife has also a comfortable and contentetl look, with the occasional accompaniment of the tone and air of independence. A glance at the displays of the market would surprise the bans vivants of the Old World. Colborne Street, which here runs into the market-place, is rich in the historic social life of early Toronto. The first theatre of York, tradition says, was extempo- 28 o( R ricrrRi-sorii :■ COI.I.F.GI-: AVKNUI-; (QV'I.KN STKKK'l). rized in the hall-room of an hotel wliicli stood on the north-cast corner of thf street. Here the fashion of the lime used to holil its assiMiihlies. and the potent, o^rave, and reverend sinrpors of the town, aloni^- with tlu;ir sons and daughters, were wont "to indulL,a- in a little insanit}." The market-place itself is not what it was in other da\s. Then it was \\\v. Ma)- I-"air of the city, the nucleus about which all the rest clustered, I?ut Toronto, like most other cities, has thrown her oates open to the west, and is now makin<4' the ij^reater part of her pro_L,rrcss in that direction. .\ V )A' riii-RX x I'. I cum >a' ^9 30 OUR PICTCRESQUE The buildinsj^s about the market wear an old, and soni(> of them a dilapidated, appearance. This is the character especially of much of the town to the east of the present spot. Even the C'ty I lall, near l)y, barely escapes this classification. It is a blot upon the city's public buildiuii^s, beiny no less unsightly and dingy than ill- \entilated and unwholesome. It stands upon ground said to be permeated witli poisonous matter, and some of its rooms and offices are a menace to life. The \alue of the ratable property within the city limits in 18S2 was o\er sixty millions. The population is 87,000; or, including the suburbs, over 100,000. In 181 2, the population was under 1000; in 1834, when the city was incorporated, it was 9000; in 1850 it had reached 25,000; and in 1870 it was more than double the latter niniiber. In n.'ar of the Cit)- Hall art; the Drill .SIkhI and .\nnories of th(; local volun- teer regiments, including the "Queen's Own Rilles," and the loth "Ro\al (>renadi(;rs." These two crack corps hold a tn-st rank in the militia of the Dominion. liolh regi- ments have seen service, the former being present at Ridgewiy, in Junt;, 1866, when the Province was invaded by I-'enians. Th(,' Queen's Own has the largest muster-roll, and is generally admitted to be tht; best drilled and most completel\' e(|uii)|)ed ri-giment in the Canadian militia. The city has a well-appointed troop of Cavalry, the (iov- ernor-General's Body Guard ; and a iMeld Battery of artillery. The headquarters of both troop and battery are at the old Fort, on the Garrison Common. To the eastward of our present halting-|)lace, there is not much to interest the sight-seer, unless he has the tastes of an antifpiary. The region that lies betwet-n the St. Lawrence Hall and the Don River is the original site of the town ; and soinc of the decrepit buildings of the district were once the homes of its wealth and fashion. In the names of the streets of the neighbourhood — Caroline, Duke, Duchess, George, Princes, antl P'rederick — the loyalty of the "first settlers" to the Hanoverian 1 )\nastv, and other members of tlu? royal house, finds expression. What inspired the (■()m|)li- ments, the Historiographer of Toronto reminds us, was the fact that "when the Canadian town of York was first projected, tlie marriage of the I)uk(' of York with the daughter of the King of Prussia, Frederica Charlotta, had only recently been rele- l)rat(xl." In the designation of Parliament .Str(!et local associations conn(;cted with the P'irsi Parliament of the Province; are jjerpetuated. Tlie site of the primitive West- minster is near b\-, though now denudcul of the (me grove of forest trees which once ox-ersliadowed it. P'or a i)eriod of nearly thirty years, interrupt(;tl for a time b\ the biu-niiiu, in [81;, of the buildings b\' the .Americans, the laws of the vouni'' Province were (Miacted within its walls. .Again, in 1S24, the Parliament Buildings fell a xictim to tire, after which the; Legislature moved westw.ird, and what is now known as the OKI I ail occujjied the site. Still eastward, on I'^ront, or as it was then styled, Palace Strei't, stood Russell Abb(;y, the residence of am: of the Goxernors of the Province; anil from this neighliourhood, now in the grip of the railways, the City Gas Works, AOA TllliKX NEIGHBOR 3' fh^^ and a inammoth Distillery, a bridle \ ' path throuo;h the forest led to Castle JM-ank, CJovermn- Sinicoe's Chateau on the 1 )oii. 'riirnin<;' up Berkeley, we come ajrain u[)oii KiiiL;' Street, the continuation of which to the east, sixty years a_i;o, was locally known as "the road to Ouel)ec." In 1S17 communication 1)\- staqc was estahlished l)etween \'ork and Kingston, and from the; latter point on to Montreal and the ancient ca|)ital. The staL;e servict- between the two formcM- points was a weekly one ; aiid with an allowance of twent\- pounds of lui^'^a^e one; could secure a seat on the lumbering' vehicle for the sum of eii^hteen dollars. The incomiii!,;- of a mail from Lower Canada usetl then to be advertised in the (.iazclU\ and the annual arrival of postal matter from I'^ii'^land was an event in the life; of the infant settlement. I'ursuini; our way east- wanl, we come to the bridge over the Don, whose slow-footed stream trails its sinuous length at the foijl of the pictures([ue heights to the north of tlu; roail, clad with s|)arse but L^rand old trees. Below the liridi^e. the- river trends off to the westward, and mi\(;s its dull waters with the ri;eds which, with the detritus of the island, shoal the eastern (^\\(\ of the harbour. A short drive beyond the Don, throuirh Leslieville, the pleasant site of extensive 32 OCR PlCl I'RF.SOrH niaiket i^ardiMis, hriiis^s us to Xorwa}-, W-n Lamoml, and the; coiiimaiulInL; clcxation of Scarboro' IlcMt,dits. On the road hilhcr, on some l)ri!^ht suniincr afternoon, may Ix: seen tlic Toronto Hunt Cluh, c'oui'sin<;- o\(T hill and daK' ; or, it nia\' he a line of racini;' horses and trotting' vehicles hastening;' to the drixini^-courst; at W'oodhini; I'ark. Close hy is X'ictoria I'ark, a resort in summer of the to\vns|)('0|)le, and which is L;(-'ner- ally rcachiHl l>y \va\' of the lake. At Norway an e.\tensi\-e tract of sunlit xcrdure and gleamiiiL;' wau-r is spread l)ef(jre tlu; vw. ()n the one hanil is seen Lake ( )ntario, stretchinn' heyonil th(; ranoe of vision into the blue ; on the other, out; of the fairest agricultural districts in the l'ro\ince, doltcnl here and there with comfortable farmdiouses and magnit'iccMit farms. Along- the rim of the lake lies the Queen Cit\-, whose distant features the artist has clexerly caught ami turned to pictorial account. In the foregroiutd, nestles here antl there the residence of some wealthv citizen, who believes that " C^od KING STKELr, WEST. \( )A' TllliRX X /-:/(, I //iOR 33 made ihc country and man made the town," ami has moved out to where lie can hear the wiltl Ijirds sin^- in the n\t'ni(MU ap[)roaches from the south, east, and west. The main building has a frontage of one hundred and eighty- four ft'ct, with a depth at the llanks of eighty-l'ive feet, and is two storeys in height. The fafixdc is in the Roman Doric ortler, of Palladium character, having for its centre four stone pilasters tlu; full height of the building, with pediment, surmounted b\' an open Doric cupola. The corner-stone of the edifice was laid in July, 1S51, b)' I lis Hxcellenc)', the luirl of Elgin, the then Governor-General. Passing in at the main entrance the visitor finds himself in a large hall, intersected by a corridor, the entire length of the building. Op[)osite the entrance is a semi-circular theatre or lecture- room, with busts of notable personages on brackets round tlu; walls. Tiie lower lloor is used as offices by the Minister of Education, by the officials of the Department, and by the members of the Educational Council. Here, also, are th(; lecture-rooms and ateliers of the Ontario School of Art, an institution that is very appreciably aiding the dissemination of art-taste in the community. On the upper floor is a large and miscel- laneous collection of pictures and statuary, co|)ies of Assyrian and Egyptian sculpture, a museum chiefly devoted to Canadian ornithology, with a department containing school apparatus and furniture. The buildings which adjoin the Education Office and Museum are used as a City Model School for the youth of both sexes, and a Normal School for the training of teachers. P'or thirty years these buildings in Normal School S([uare have been the nursery of the educational system of Ontario, a system origi- nated, and for nearly the whole period administered, by the late Rev. Dr. Ryerson. Toronto, as a city, has largely felt the influence; of Dr. Ryerson's labours ; and the many efficient Public Schools of the town are mtMiiorials of his life's work, as well as marks of the public spirit of the community, aided by th(; liberality of the Provincial Legislatun;. Ilo\ve\er much the State has done for (xlucation, X'oluntaryism, at the same time, has not withheld its purse. The amount of scholastic work undertaken by tin; Denominations, and the support given to the charities and philanthropic institutions of the cit\-, may be pointed to as irrefragable evidence of true Christian zeal. Leaving the lulucation Department, and going south by Hond Street, we pass at the corner of Wilton Avenue, the Congregational Church, a fine edifice in the style of l^arl\- l'"nglish Gothic, with a handsome tower and spirt; at the south-west angle of the building. .\ litth; farther down is the Loretto Convent, with the Archiepiscopal See- House to the rear, on the Church Street front; and at the intersection of Shuter, is St. Michael's Roman Catholic C"alhedral. When the late Bishop Power, forty years * ago, purchased the site for the Cathedral, he was deemed foolish, we are told, for pro- ,) 6 0(./< />/C7'( A' /:S(H 7: posing to erect a church in what was then "the bush." Now t\\r edifice is ahnost in the heart of Toronto, the; city encompassing, and reaching far bcNond it, in every direction. The Iniilding, wliich extcMids from Bond to Ciuirrh Street, wilii an entrance also from Shuter, is massive and loft)'. It ha^> a line tower and s|)ire, bcaulilul slaimd- glass windows, witii organ and instrinnental orcht-stra. There,- an; st'veral vahiable paintings, two fmelN-carved pidpits, and t'i\e elaborate altars in various parts of the interior. In connection with the church and its parish work are the several religious orders, the Christian brothers, the Sisters of Merc\- aiHJ the Cloistered Nuns, — the Brothers taking part in the educational work of the Separate Schools throughout the city, and tlu; nuns teaching in the Convents. The Metropolitan (Methodist) Church, in McCdll Sepiare, is among the largest ecclesiastical editici^s on this side of the Atlantic. It is one of the sights of the city; and surrounded by its fine grounds, with neat iron fence, its fringe of trees and shrubs, with partcirres of flowers, is a great ornament to Toronto, and the just pride of the religious body. Tht; bviilding is of fine whit(! brick, with cut-stone dressings, and is in th(! Franco-Gothic style of architecture of the I'ourteenth Century. Its ex- treme dimensions are two hundrt;d antl fourteen by one hundred and four feet. At the south-east angle is a tower, sixteen feet squart; and one hundred and ninety feet in height. There are other towers a hundred and twent\-two feet in height, one on either side, at the junction of the main building with the lecture-room. 'The internal arrangement of the building, the general design, and the harmony of the parts, excite the admiration of all visitors. The seating capacity of the church is about two thousand four hundred ; and its total cost, including the site, and a magnificent organ, approached a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Immediately south of Mc(iill Scjuare, and reached from our present halting-place by way of Clare Street, is the Canadian Institute, on Richmond Street. This insti- tution, which is mainly supported by the sara/z/s of the cit\-, and those interested in scientific research, has a fine library and lecture-hall ; its iiK^mbers publish a journal of transactions. West of the Institute, Yonge bisects Richmond .Street a block and a half off. Making one's way thither, the visitor will fliul himself again in the centres of trade, and drawing to the i)oint from which he set out on the eastern tour of the city. In Yonge Street, if it be summer time, he will miss the abuntlant shade which the trees in most of the; streets afford. As we pass southward to regain King, the Cirand Opera House, on Atlclaide .Street, West, will not be uidikely to arrest the e>e. Hither or to the Royal Opera House, on King Street, come the operatic and dramatic companies, American and foreign, that star it over the Continent. Occasionally, local histrionic talent appears creditably on the boards ; ami from the Toronto Philharmonic Society the citizens have entertainments of high character. Regaining our point of departure, and pushing our way through the crowds that .VOA' rilHRX MilClir^OR 11 .-'T^^^^f^J^'^ KIAIKW UK TllK "QUEEN'S OWN." (tj;^?., throng this central thoroughfare, we set out to see the points of interest embraced in the west<'rn lialf a\', or its site ha\'e been kept in its \irgin state, we should have hatl a grand scpiart? and promenade with converging streets and branching traffic ; its four-sided fac(; adorned with slatel\- buildings, anil its centre set off by fountains and public mnuumcMits! Wwl we hav(; to deal with the city as it is, and not with what it might be; ; still less with what it is not. In tlu- Toronto of to-ilay there is littU; occasion, howcxcr, to bemoan the " might ha\e been," for the realization of what is wouUl be no easy matter, not (Jiily to the founders of the city, could they revisit the scene of their earl)- toil, but to those who sleep of a later generation. Even to the contemjjorary who revisits the city after a few years absence, the progress and improvement everywhere apparent occasion remark and susprise. Nor are the lofty buildings that brt^ak up the sk\- lines about one, antl render the streets picturestpie, alone the sul)jecls ot comment. The contents t)f the stores, on all sides, and the character of the native manufactures, or (;f the importations from 38 OLK I'lCTLRLSQLli abroad, are also strikinjf evidences of local wealth anil proj^ress, and of the advance of art and skill. The activities of the journalistic profession in the; Provincial Metropolis are also matters of pride to its citizens. The j^rowth of the newspaper press of Toronto, particularly in the last ten years, has been very marked. The buildinj^ erected b)- the proprietors of the Mail, the chief conservative ortran of the Western Province, is at once an instance of enterprise and of the pul)lic fa\our which enterprise wins. The Mail was established in 1S70, and is a vii^orously conductetl journal, with writers of trained and disciplined talent on its staf^". 'I'he Globe, which dates back to 1S44, lon_s^ led the van of journal- ism in Canada ; it is recoj^mized as the chief orijan of the Reformers, or. as the)- are now frequently desig- nated, the " Liberal I\arty." The T'lcgrani and the World are journals that pay some tribute to independ- ence ; and with the growing class now throwing of¥ the ties of partyism, they are increasingly popular. The Evening News and the Evenino- Cana- dian are recent additions to after- Cliurchman of the Episcopal body. noon journalism. The " weeklies " chiefly represent the denominations. The Christian Guardian, founded in 1829, is the organ of the Methodist, and the Evangelical The Irish Canadian speaks for Roman Catholic- ism. • The titles of the Canada Presbyterian and the Canadian Baptist at once X()/r/7//SA\Y NHUiUliOR 39 disclose their connections. C//// is tiie representative of humor ami the rartooiiist's art ; and CoinnuMTc; has a special orj^aii in tlu; Monetary Times. Periodical lilcrature, as yet, has to struggle to maintain its(.-lf, though at periods when then- is a (piickening of the national life, it sensibly extemls the area of its influence, if not of its support. The marketable literature in the country is still mainly foreign ; and enterprises like the r(t( ntly deceased Canadian Monthly tind it as \v\ iliUicnU, ii not impossible, in the latency of national spirit, to secure adecpiati; sup|)ort. The professional periodi- cals fare hctur. Law, medicine, ind education have each their representative organs, and maintain themselves with abilily and credit. Toronto literar)' ami journalistic life has not as yet developed its club ; though the growing prof(.'ssional status, and the increasing emoluments of writers for the press, will no doubt s(,'(.' it rise at an early tla\ to that tlignity. Special interests of a social, professional, or commercial character, cond)inc;, however, to su|)porl one f)r two city clubs. rile k()\al Canadian \'aclu Club \vt; have alread\ mentioned, has its habitat on the Island. The National Club, siluatiHl on Ba)' Street, has a large memluM'ship drawn from the professions, autl ffoin tin? ca|)tains of industry and comnn-rce. The Toronto Club, on N'ork Street, draws its nuMubership from nnicii the same soiu'ce, with a sprinkling of the more leisures! class, and some few sticklers b)r caste. The I'nited b^mpire Club, which, as the headcpiarters of Liberal Conserx atism in the city, styletl itself the Canadian Carle'on, has n-ce'nth- tlisapjx'ared. Its building, centrally situated on King .Street, West, might be secured for a much-needed Merchant's Exchange, or, better still, a F"ree l^lblic Library. The \arious societies, national and ben(.-volent. liave their respective lodge-rooms and halls in almost ever\' section of the city. There are also a number of rowing and swimming clubs, curling and skating-rink organizations, with several gymnasia, and that latest craze of athleticism, a Bicycle Association. Next to the clubs, in the record of social progress, come the hotels. Toronto has left behind her th(; (!ra of the primitive York hotels, a storey and a half high, in which the travelling pid)lic of the; tlay used to think itself luxinaously lodged, if the sign-post in front of the inn didn't inform the passer-b\- that the " (ieneral Brock," or other named patron, possessed " accommodation for man and beast." The " Oueen's," on I'ront .Street, and the " Rossin Houst'." which we j)ass on King Street, at the corner of \'ork, may claim to rank with the large and well-managed hotels of the American cities. Others, including the "Walker," the "Revere," and the "American," deserve favourable notice. Pm-sinng our way westward, we come, at the corner of King and Simcoe Streets to a fane of truly metropolitan character — St. Andrew's Church — whose; noble fafadc, Norman towers, and elaborately-carved triple doorway recall some grand Minster of the Old World. Its massive solidity, with its great hundred and twenty-feet tower, thirty- \o or A' /'/cT(7\'/':.svr/: twf) feet sciuarcr at the h.isc, in the style of the Norman architecture of the 'Iwelfth Century, gives an aspect of stately inajj^niticence to th(' l)iiililinjj;, which, with its fine site, has scarce a parallel amonj^' the ecclesiastical editices of Canada. The church is l)uilt of (Jieorj^jetown rubhli;, with Ohio storn' facings, varieil, in the relieving arches and bands, by the red-brown blocks of Oueenstoii. 'lUv. windows are arclu:d, as are the entrances, tlu; latter having tinely-polishtnl red granite pillars supporting them. In the southern end of the building -a shapely semi-circle —arc the school-rooms and lecture- halls, which are "so contrived as to add to the general effect which the contour of the building is intt;nckHl to protluce." The church was erected in 1875, and opened in I^'ebruary of the following year. In grounds of much attrartiveness, tantalizingly shut in from view on three streets, stands the rrsidcnce of the Licuteiiant-titnernor of Ontario. In some; rcs|)ct:ts it is a a pity that the area occupied by (ioverument House; ami grounds, and the scpiarcs to the north and south should have the Province as their owner, as this monopoly stands somewhat in the way of the d(;v(.'lopm(;nt of the city to the westward. .Still, so far as the (iovenior's r(;sidcnc(! is concernt;d, were the fences reduced in size and lat- ticed, tilt; purposes to which ( lo\crnm(;nt has put the square would not Ik; so objec- tionable, while; the site; might continue to form an agreeable break in the moiiotou)' of the streets. TIk; residence; is in the modern style of I'rench architecture, and has an elegant appearance; from within its f(;nced enclosure. The interior is handsome, with grand hall and staircase;, spacious rec(;ption rooms, and a fme ball-room autl con- servatory. The grounds an; extensive, and are beautifully laid out with tlower-beds and shrubbery, terraced walks and velvety lawn. Art has contrasts no less discordant than Nature ; and in the square to the south the stranger will be as much disappointed with the poverty of the Parliament HuiUlings of tlu; Province as he will have been delighted with the residence of its Governor. The buildings require as little description as elo the railway freight shetis to the south of them. However, for what they are worth, there they are. In the meantime they do duty as the Halls of the Legislature; and we must not forget that the Province had once a humbler St. Stephen's. The buildings still shelter some of the (jovernment departments and tlu; Provincial Library, together with the Legislative Chainber, the throne, and the mace ! The House consists of eighty-eight members, si.\ of whom form the Executive Council, and direct the public business of the Province. Politics in Ontario, as else- where in the Dominion, is the great game of the people. It is pursued with often feverisli intensity, and partyism not unfrequently degrades it to personal ends. In the heat which faction and its trumpery concerns occasion, we sometimes recall Dr. Gold- win Smith's words, in alluding to the interruption to legislative business in England by the annual furore of the Derby Day. " Give us," says the professor, " a Parliament X()A'////;a'x M:i(,iinoi< 4> capal)lc of heinj^ tlu: orj^Mii of national aspiration and effort ; let ji^reat questions be once more hanclli.'d in earnest by great men ; let our political chiefs once more display t!ie qualities which touch a nation's Iieart ; and the soiJ of iCns^land will soon cease to be absorbed b) a horse race." In thes.- remarks there is a lesson for those in Canaila who are enj^rossful by the [)arty game, and are dis|)oseil to substitute for statesmanship the small issues and the wirepulling of the Machine. On the I'^splanade, to the cast of Parliament Scpiare, is ihe Union Station, the passenger ik'pot of the Grand trunk Railway, and the lenninus of a number of the smaller linc.'s. Mere we agair/ meet the gleaming waters of the bay. Close b\' was the scene of the landing, in uSoci, of i 1. iv. 11. tin; Prince of Wales, -a spectacK- of memorable beaiitN. On but one other, .and a sad occa- ion, has tlu; water-lront ot the cit\' seen sucli a g.ithering. It was si.K years lalia". wiu-n every houst-hold, in a iren/y of horroi-. drew to the waterside to receive the cK:ad from the lield ol honour at Idnu'ridge. Kegaining King Street, and turning to the west, we conu; upon Upper Canada College, and the tine grounds that siu'rouud that historic institution. The building itself has no architc^ctural attractions. The charm of the [)lace is its foreground, wuh its bright, gn^en sward, autl the foliage of the trees that o\('rhang the sidewalk. The College, which was foiuided by .Sir John Colborne in iSjiq, h.is the good fortune to lie well endowed, and is undcu' the direction of a coirimittec; of the Univ(M-sit\- .ScMiate. Attached is a boardingdiouse ; and the institution has a well-e(piip[)ed staff. Man>' of the leading public men of the country have acfpiiretl their ('arK' etlucation at the College : it consequently has some traditions. .Some educational reformers now regard it, however, as out of line with the Secondary School .S\slem of the Province ; and its right to e.xist has recently become a matter of fierce debate. A few strides to the westward of the College bring us to John Street, and to the site of what was once the General Hospital, and for some years, subsequently to the burn- ing of the Parliament House, in 1824, the home of the Legislature. In 1847, when the city was scourged by an epidemic of typhus, the fever wards of the hospital wt-re liter- ally choked with the smitten inunigrants. Turning northward on John, we skirt on our right the fencc^d (uiclosure of thi; College cricket-grountl. Here, if anywhere, with its front on King, is the proper site for the new Parliament Buildings. Proceeding north- ward we pass Beverley House on the right, the Clock Tower of the Queen Street Fire Station on the left ; and beyond are the spire and fmial cross of St. George's — the vista being closed by the foliage of the Grange. Within the beautiful grounds of the latter, tradition says that, sixty years ago, bears attacked the carriage horses of its owner. One of the finest elms in the city still looks down upon the scene. At the intersection of Queen Street, we turn eastward towards Osgoode Hall, the high court of Themis. Here, within a stately iron fence;, inclosing some six acres of 4* or/< ricrrRiusouE ^ % a;. UNIVKKSnV OK TOKONTO. XOA'77//:'A'X M-K.llliOR 43 ornamental t^M-ounds. arc the ^rt-at Law Courts of the Prcnince, and tlu," Library antl Convocation Hall of the Law Society of Upper Canada. In his work on " North America," the late Anthony Trollope remarks that Osgeiode Hall is to Ui)per Canada what the I'Oiir Courts of Dublin are to Ireland; and he tj^ives the |)alm, in the matter of interior decoration, to our Colonial Halls of jusdce. He praises, in no stinted lanouaij^e, the beaut\' of the library, vestibule antl staircases, and has irlowin_o- words for the Courts themselves. The place is the Mecca or 'Loronto sitj^ht-seers. L'nder its roof they feel alikt' the inlluenct; of art and the majesty of law. The portraits of the judi^i^s that look down from the walls impress the \isitor with a sense of the power that inheres in k^arniiiL;- and tlignit)-. The Hall takes us name from the Hon. W'm. Usj^oode, the first Chief Justice; of L'pper Canada, who was appointed in 179J. The Law Society dates its incorporation thirt)- \(i\w^ later; it has a well- endowed library, and maintains lectureships in Common Law, ]^(juity, and Ri;al Property. (ilancin^- eastward from tlu; Hall, the tourist will obser\'e, near the corner ol ^'()ns4■e, the line ^y'ww and edilic(; of Knox Church. Though erected in 1S47, the church is lar from beiny^ eclipsed, architectiu'ally, by recc.'Ut structures. At the corner ol James .Street stands Shaftesbur\' Hall, the conunodious buiklin;^ of tlu' \'oun!:;' Men's Christian Asso- ciation ; and on Trinity .Scpiare, at the top of James, is the representative home of HiL^h-Churchism, the Church of the Holy Ti'init)-. Adjoining- the grounds of (Js^otxle I Ldl, ami faciniL,^ the CollejT^e Avenue, is Uni\ersit\- .Street, or, as it was form(M-l\- called. Lark Lane. The latter desij^nation was no doubt and uniipu; appearance. It is built f)f a rich, tlark-brown stone, with drc;ssin!.^s of black and red brick -a re\-ersal of the usual methods of the architects and build(;rs. The College is tlu! <;ift of the donor whose name it bears ; it possesses all appliances for th(; theolot^ical trainiuL,'^ of the ministry of the dcmomination. P'rom Hloor Street, or what used to be known as the Sydenham Road, the adjoiniuij;' suburb of ^'ork\•ille extends north ami e;ist o\-er the area that lies between our |)r(;sent haltin4x:s for tin; sick and sulTcriiii^r of llu: cit\'s poor. •\\'csl and north of the As\lum a new Toronto is rapidl)' rising' in the suhurhan villa^'cs of l»rockloii and ParkdaU; ; and when the afternoons think of pasdni^ into the evenin^^s a stroll throui.;h these; jdeasanl aniie\(;s ol the city, a sauntc i- in the jrroves of lli.i;h Park, or an indolent "[mil" up the dull-hosoined windings of the Humlier, will he not the least of the enjoyable experiences of the rambler. llere, to the west of tin; city, one ^ets the fresh breezes of the lake ; and stntlchniL;' out from the Garrison Reserve, or from the pretty hunldocketl bay at the mouth of llu; llundjer, the ij;;lcaminL;' expanse of Ontario's waters may be s(;(;n for man\' a mile. Ihe neii^h- bourhood is now bein^- UKule attractixn b\ the o[)eninu;' up of 1 1 ii^h Park, a beautifully wootled an-a, with picturestpie drives and inviting- l)ridle-|)aths, which has rc'ceiuly been donat(;d to the city. Prom the 1 lumber the lake shore; road i^ixcs communication, b\- way of the Credit Ri\er and ()ak\ ille, —a rcL^ion which, of recent years, has become famous for its strawl)err\- culture, to the heati of ISurlin^lon Hay ami the city of Hamilton. Near the terminus of Oueeii Street, and before reachin;^ Parkd.ile, Dundas Street trends awa\- to the north-wc;st, and forms the L;reat highway, |)r())ecteil by Governor Simcoe, to the London District, and onward to the Detroit Rixcr at the western eiul of the Ontario Peninsid;i. .At this outlet of the cit\', where was once an u, broken forest of oak and yellow pine, a network of strei'ts anel avenues, with handsome; \illas and rows of contiL,''uous houses, covers tlie area and, as we ha\(; said, creates a new and populous Toronto. Though the northern and easte-rn sections ot the town IkuI Ioiil,'' the; start in the race, Brockton and Parkdale an; last overtakinn" them, and bid fair, at no distant day, to extend the borders of the capital to th(; winding- \ale of the Plumber. There, it ma\- be, the comint^ years will see some western "Castle P'rank " shoot its pinnacles throiiuh the foliage of the ri\er that boumls the city on the west, and mav r(;call to a joun^cr gen(M-ation the summer chdfi-ait of 'Toronto's foun(l(;r. which reared its walls a centur\- before; on the stream that bounds the cit\' on the; east. Hut the features of the cit\'s pro^^ress haxc not l)(;en material .alone, nor is the natural beauty of its surroundiiv^s the only source of ])leasur(;. R(;cent \(;ars ha\e made 'Toronto a centre; tor the intellectual intere;sts of tlu; Pro\ince. 'Time, wealth, and leisure are necessary conditions of this development. W hat is to be the di.s- tin_nuishin!4- type of the national character a c«ii^tr^r^« ,^- than two hours from Toronlo, and when within a half-hour of ( )ran!_;('\ill<-, we find ours(,'lves nestlini^' in the- hosom of the Caledon llills. "The /vv/w " would lie more eorn-ctly named '•The /^i-oi/os of the Cretlit." The westerK" pron^' pierces a deep and romantic ravine hi'tween xcrtical walls of retl ami ^ray sandstone. Parallel to the eastc:rn pronq;', hut receding' from the stream, rise umlulalin^ hills of the same formation. The sand- stone is rompact. uniform and free from impurities ; it \ields to the ihisel and the lathi; heautiful architectural and decorative effects. ( )uarr\ men are now merrily at work. Their rinjrino- steel ami powder-blasts are frecpiently heard ; and with this mimicry of 54 01 h' /'/CrrR/iSQC/: war they atlrighi tluj j^lmuIc echoes that slet!p among those (iiiiet and romantic j^flens. A little distance up the left hrancii of the Crcdii we are iiiallan_i;i'tl by a hij^li sentry- tower, — "the; Devil's I'lilpit," it is locall)' nanuHJ. Ascending this we gain a commanding view of the Valley of the Credit; and away towards the east we range with «)iir eyes the wooded height of land ihal sttparates the fountains of the Credit from those of the Humljer. The sweet, (old, shadowy waters of the Creilit have always i)een the very paradisi; of fish. I he headwaters swarm with speckled trout, If we are ambitious of larger jirey we must follow the ri\er below the I'Ork through its long, quiet stretclu;s, passing Hramplon, the Count)- seat, with its agricultural activities and industries. After leaving Streetsville with its humming looms, the fishing may becomt; more serious and e.xciting : — four-pounder black bass, and nine-pounder pike. Still descending the ri\er, we strike (loxcriior .Siuicoe's old militar\' highway, Dundas Street, and we see, hard by, tin; old Indian bur)ing-[)lace, where rest with their weapons of the chas(; beside them som<; of the keenest sportsmen the world has ever bred. The Indian village has now \anished, but here was once the focus of western Salmon- fishing. Here within tlie frame of the Credit woods the torches of the firtsfishers nightly nt up such |)ictures as Paul Kane came frnin Toronto to preserve on his canvas. Hr.t one day tin; Mississagas sold their heritage and departed ; and curiously enough, with the disap|)earance of the Indians, disappeared also suddenly and forever the salmon which the Cireat Spirit had so bountifull) provided for his poor, improvi- dent children. Leaving I'ort Credit, we coast along the shore, just glancing wistfully as we pass at Oakville and its luscious strawberry-meads. Were we to land and taste of " that enchanted stem " we should, like tin; lotus-eaters, abide there all summer. Many do so. Bearing westward we reach the H(;ad of the Lake, the " b'ontl du Lac," which it was long the ilream and ami)iti()n of F"rench e.xplorers to n^ach. The discovery of Burlington Ba)- was reserved for La .Salle in this wise. Champlain's inroad inf:o the lair of the Irotpiois tiger had forever closed to him the exploration of Lake Ontario, and thus Lake Simcoe and Georgian Ba\' and Lake Huron had all been repeatedly visited long before Ontario had been explored. In i66g the fearless spirit of La Salle overleaped all barriers, antl dashing into this inland sea with a flotilla of seveii canoes he explored it to the very head. Quotli the Aticiciit Mariner: "The fair brcc/c bk-w, the white luuiii Hew, Tile furrow followed free ; We were the lust that ever burst Into that silent sea." Coasting along the south shore of what he named " Lake Frontenac,' La Salle discovered the moutli of the Niagara and, first of all luiropeans, he iieard the awful J AOA' /■///■: A'. V MUiiHliOR 55 voice of tlif latanict. Thence aloiiij; tlie Ijcautiful woodlands of Lincoln and Wcnt- worth. with views disclosed, now of descendinj,^ streams, and aj,'ain ol peaceful bayous frini^ed with icdars and inlaiil with white and j^old pond-lilies. At leiiL^tii a s\lvan lake of enchantiii},' beauty was reached. Without llie aid of the Liyht House and Canal that now i^ivc tiu- largest steamers easy entrance to Hurlington \S\\\, I. a Salle leil his tlotilla within its sh(!lt»trino arms. It was the 24th of Septend)er, i66q. The dense iindcrwodd lip the hill-siiles, and th(; stately forests covering the heights, formetl an ainphithi'.iirc of the riclu^st foliage, which was already kindling with the gold and crimson lircs of the Canadian autumn. While resting hi-re. La .Salle was astonished to learn from the nati\-es that another I'rench e.\plorer had just rc-aclu;d a village; on the (Irand Ki\cr beyond. This pro\(,'d to be 110 U-ss a personage than Jolict luTeafter to Ixcomt- La Salle's victorious rival in the race for the linding of the Mississip|)i. Could a more picturescpic inciilent be conceived than the meeting of these )C)ung men who were presenth' to become so famous ? Jolict explained tiiat Ik; had been sent by the Inlcndant Talon to iliscover certain rumored co|)per-mines in the North- west ; thf lesuit missionaries Manpictte ami 1 )ablon had volunteered to accompany him .Stopped b\- a saiill in their upward progress, the missionaries IkuI remained to found the Mission of St. .Marie;. Joliet returned, i)ul with an absorbing passion for adventure, Ik; selected for his return an un(;.\plored route, which aikU'tl to the maps of New L'rance our western peninsula of Ontario. Joliet iliscovered tlu; river and lake which have since been used to coinuK-morate the mild military achievements of GeiH;ral St. Clair; he then e.\plored a strait (Detroit) that gave the joung e.\|)lorer entry into a vast lake (Krit;), hitherto unseen of white; men. Coasting along the Canadian shore of Lake I-lrie, he disco\-ered and ascended tiK; Crand River, and he was now standing near the site; of the; future Mohawk Church, showing La Salle the lirst m.ip of Peninsular Ontario! A centur\- anel uKire passed e)ver. New France had bee;n cut adrift by Olel b'rance. Joliet's maps of the Lake;s aiKl of the Mississipi)i, which were elesigneel to gratif)- the drand Moiiarqiic, hael supi)lie;el lulmunel Hurke with arguments on the question of the PennsyKania boundary. Then came the' elisruption of the American Colonies and the inllux of the Loyalists into Canada. In the vanguard of the refugees arrived Robert Land in 1778. His was a romantic story, but too long to tell. He selected the Head of the Lake rather for the game anel the scenery than for the fertility of the soil. His lirst acre was ploughe;d with a hoe, sowed with a bushel of wheal, and harrowed with the leaf\- bough of a tree. b'or years he was his own miller, bruising the wheat into coarse' meal. Ciood news came one day that a French Canadian had " enterprised " a mill at Ancaster. So, when Land's next grain was threshed out with the flail, he strapped a sack of wheat to his back and te)ile;d up the mountain footpath seven miles, awaited his turn at the- log grist-mill of Jean Jacques Rousseaux and then joyously 5^' OUR PICTURESQUE NORTHERN NEIGHBOR 57 descended the mountain carrying; a sack of llour li>^htc.r In- the miller's tithe. Land's homestead stood on the south-east corner of William muX Harton Sin-ets and his (arm covered three hundred acres of the castc-rn part of Hamilton. Other hard\- yeomen took up farms beside him. The surnames of the pioneers are preserved in Hujrhson Street, [ackson SiPet, l-Cru^^uson .\\enue, etc. and llunr Christian names survive in James .Street, |ohn .Street, Robert .Street, and the; rest. The cpiiet fields where these yeonuMi so proudh' look a strai^dil furrow with their waw Ancaster ploui^hs, have' since yieUled a harvest of commercial activities and mechanical industries. The oentle sounds of llu! country are succeedetl by the shriek-, ot rushinn' hjcomotives and steamboats ; by th<; thud of the steam-hammer, tin; roar of fountlries and ^lass-furnaces ; the whir of the countless jjuUeys that minister to the workers in wood, iron, brass, copper, zinc, tin and silver. Parallel to th(? present beach, but away at the farther end of Burlini;^ton Ha\', is an historic ten-race of " coni^lomerate," or natural concrete. It represents the ancient lake-tloor, though now lifted a iiundred feet abovi; tht; water. In 1S13 tlu; tide of invasion swept over the? western Province up to the \ery foot of Hurlin<^ton 1 lei^hts. It was in those anxious days that Hamilton was born. The Heisjj^hts wen; not then dee|)l\' t^\cavated to receive a railroad, nor were they pierced by a canal. Ihe only access was over an isthmus defended by field-works. On one side, a stone mio-ht have l)een dropped a hundred feet sheer into Burlin<^ton Hay; on the other side, into the deep marsh which hail alread\' acquired the nickname of " Coote's Parailise." The fortune of Upper Canada turneil on the possession of this hill. Here Ceneral X'incent found a safe retreat when forced to withdraw from the Niagara frontii'r. It was from this eyry that Harvey swooped down upon the American camp at .Stony Creek, and Fitziribbon dashed upon the retreating" invaders at Heaver Dam. A daui^erous naval tlemonstration was made against the Heights, but it ii^nominiously failed. So the summer of iSi,^ passc^d hopefulK' awa\-. But the October winds broufjht from Moravian town the low moaniny^ of a grave disaster, ami then Proctor found in Burlington Heights a welcome refuge;. The massing of imm and militarv stores during the war no doubt promptetl the formation of a permanent settlement. In iSi v C>eorge Hamilton laid out his farm in village lots, but the peace of ("dient came, and the stir and bustle on Burlington Piay e.xpired with the watch-fires on its Heights. Hamilton had a future, but she must bide her time. .Ancaster had taken an early and vigorous start; then Dundas had sprung uj), a still more dange'-ous rival. The cutting of Burlington Canal in iX:;4-5 openeil communication with Lake Ontario and secured to Hamilton invaluable geographical advantages. The year i.S;,2 was to test whether Hamilton was simpl>- "ambitious," or possessed the (pialities that justify ambition. One awful nij^ht in the; summer, a gaunt Asiatic stalked into the gaol, without undoing bolt or bar, and served writs of Habeas 58 OUR PICT I RliSOl 'li Corpus that would hrook no (lcla\". When morning;' broke, it was clear to tlie townsmen that cholera was within their i)orcIers. The i^aoler was himself hurried away : then the magistrates set free llu^ surxixiiit;- prisoners, e\ce|)t one who wa^^ already within the shadow of the gibbet. All summer lon^' this ilreadful presence stalked up and down the streets, entering the houses or peering in at the windows ; but with the coming of the blessed frost, he disappeared. The pestilence bareh' gone, the midnight sky, one night in November, was suddenly lit up as bright as noontide, and Hurlington \\a\ seen from afar gleamed liki; burnished gold. IJefore the tire could be subdued, main of Hamilton's best buildings were shapeless ruins. These calamities of iS;,2 might well ha\c disheartened a \()ung town, but within a few months I lamilton had not onl\- reco\-erf'd lost ground, but had plannetl a s\st(;m of markets, and had provided for wider streets and a police |)atrol. bire-engines were [)rocured and gri'at |niblic wells were sunk. .'\s in the towns of Old Mnglantl and of Xew I'^ngland, the town-pumps were long the c(Mitre of gossip and became the bill-boards for otTicial notices. The [•"ountain in the (iore marks the site of the last surxixor of those garrulous old town- pumps, from which Hawthorne has drawn so ih'lightful a "Rill" in his " Twict;-tokl Tales." In the; early days, Allan McNab was the leading spirit in every stirring incident. He was tlu; foremost representative of the (iore District in Parliament. When cholera \( )R TIIERX XRIGlfBOR 59 invaded the s-iol, it was Mr. McXab who released the surviving- prisoners and assumed th<; responsibilit)-. When the conllai^ration of Xovember broke out, it must needs be^dn in Mr. McNab's building. At the outbreai< of our domestic " un[)leasantness " in iS;,;, Colonel the lion. Allan McNab was Speaker of the House of Asseinbl)-, and Colonel l'"itZjL,Mbbon (whom we met at Heaver Dam) was Clerk. Within thirt)' minutes after receixino' a despatch from .Sir brancis Head's courier, McXab was musterini,^ the militia, and within lhr<,'e hours he was ste.iming awa\' lor Toronto in command of "The Men of Ciore." On the mornins^ f(jlluildiiv.4s, ('S|)ecialh the PIKR 1 \n I If.IIT. 62 OUR PICTURESQUE newer biiiUlin/in- : our huildintj's miis/ be worthy of the place. This artistic sentiment is clearly seen in such buildinLi^s as the new offices of the Hamilton Provident and Loan Society and those of the Canada Life Assurance Company. And the feeling has inoculated the Count}- Council, who have joined hands with the city and erected in Prince's Square a Court House, which does signal honour to both corporations. The Educational institutions of Hamilton have always been among its chief glories. The Public system of schools commences with numerous, well-equipped Ward Schools, and is crowned by a Collegiate Institute, which is the largest organization of the kind in the Province. There is a Young Ladies' College, conducted under the auspices of the Wesleyan Church, and an extensive system of Roman Catholic Separate Schools. Hamilton is the seat of two Bishops' Sees, — the Anglican Bishop of Niagara, and the Catholic Bishop of Hamilton. The lofty cathedrals and churches lead up the eye as well as the mind above the smoking steeples of industry. The merchants have built for themselves princely homes on the terraces of the Mountain. Then, looking down upon all from the mountain-brow, and piteously gazing out on a landscape of unsurpassed beauty, is a vast Asylum for the Insane — that mysterious, inseparable shadow of modern civilization ! In 1858, when starting off on his story of "Count or Counterfeit," the Rev. R. J. MacGeorge described Hamilton as "the ambitious and stirring little city." The sobriquet of "the ambitious little city" was thenceforward fastened upon Hamilton, the middle term being craftily omitted. A quarter-centur\- has elapsed since "Solomon of Streetsville " wrote his burlesque, and time, which cures all things, has removed all re- proach as to the city's size, but as to the rest, Hamilton is more stirring and more ambitious than ever. Ambitious ? Why not ? P'or ambition is " the spur tli.it the clear spirit dotli raise To scorn ileliglits and live lahorious days." Dundas was the most dangerous rival of Hamilton m the race for commercial preeminence. But Ancaster was still earlier in the field, and at one time was the centre of commerce, manufactures, and postal communication for the whole district. .In his pedestrian tom-s throuidi the Western Peninsula, ('.ov(;rnor Simcoe would extend his already prolonged march in order to enjoy the cheer and the bright ingle-side of his Ancaster inn. As tlie fruit of Simcoe's tours, we have the great military highway which he drew and intended to open from Pointe au Baudet on the St. Lawrence, through Kingston, York (Toronto), the Head of the Lake (Dundas), Oxford (Wood- stock), London, and so to the River Detroit. This great road he named " Dunda? jVOA' III urn m: Id 1 1 no r 63 Street," after Henry Dumlas, Viscount Melville, who diirinj^ Simcoe's orovernorship was Secretary-at-War in the Duke of Portland's cabinet. I'roin this Street, which still at Dundas is called " Tlu! Governor's Road," the town took its name. The vast marsh which occupies the lower part of the picturesque Dundas Valley was a noted resort for water-fowl, and the military officers stationed at \'ork (Toronto) revelled in the si)ort that it affordetl. Early in the century. Captain Coote, of the lui^dith or Kinjj^'s Rej^iment, devoted himself to this sport with so much enthusiasm that, by a well-aimed double-barrelled [nui, which broui,dit down at once i)olh the water-fowl and the sports- man, the marsh was nicknamed " Coote's Paradise." \\\ extension, the name was applied to a village that clustered around the upper end of the marsh, and thus in our earliest Parliamentary records we encounter "petitions" from "Coote's Paradise," and legislation based thereon. Recent geologists tell us that some a^ons ago the water of the upper lakes dis- charged, not over the precipice at Niagara, but swept in a majestic tide down the strath of Dundas ; and that the great marsh and Burlington Bay are but the sur\ ivals of this ancient epoch. Among the early burgesses of Dundas was one Pierre Desjardins, wlio, like the mighty canal-digger, Lesseps, did a good deal of original thinking for him- self and for others. He saw the trade of the Western Peninsula falling in a thin cas- cade over the mountain at Ancaster and Grimsby and the rest; " (// bicii. )iics amis, why not turn the whole current of that trade down this ancient waterway- of the Dundas Valley?" So Peter went to work, dug his canal the whole length of the marsh, and wound it around Burlington Heights, which was easier than carrying it through. The Great Western Railway presently began its embankments, and, by arrangement with that great mound-builder, the Desjardins Canal pierced the Heights. The remains of a mammoth were disinterred, startling the Irish navvies with the consideration, " What game-bags the sportsmen in the ould times must have had ! ' With the opening of the Desjardins and Burlington Canals the keenest rivalr\- began between Dundas and Hamilton, old Ancaster looking down amusedly at this race from her seat on the Mountain. The odds seemc^d in favour of Dundas until the opening of the Great Western Railway, -headcpiartcrs at Hamilton. The race was then over! Soon the water-weeds began to encroach on the Desjardins Canal, and the ver\- name was beginning to get unfamiliar when the frightful accident of the- 12th of March, 1857, gave tlic place a renewed and a most tragic interest. The afternoon passenger train from Toronto, after entering on the drawbridge that spanned the canal at Burlington Heights, was heard to give a piercing shriek, aiul a moment afterwards was seen to crush through the bridge and plunge into the canal fort\' feet below. The evening was bitterly cold. .Ml through the night, and through the next day, and next night, the doleful task pTOceeded of breaking up the sunken cars and removing the now heedless, passengers. What spectral vision of tleath the engineer Burntield saw before him on 64 OUR PICTl 'RESQL 7: the lin'ili^c when he sounded that picrcinij^ crx' will ncxcr he known, for. witli a heroism worthy ol C'urliiis and old Koine, he ;)iiin!:;<'d with his iron sti-ed into the aljyss. W hi'n it became apparent that r.iili^oad eiUer|irise had altered the " manifest destiiu" of l)nndas, the town wisel\- desoted itself to manuhii tnres rather than to na\i^ation, seleclin:^- those manufactures which lorm the threat staples of commerce and the pi'ime mo\'ers ot industrv , cotton manuiai'tin'e, paper manulacture, the imildin^' of engines and boilers, th(' makiiiL; ot wood-w oi'kiiiL; machinery, ol carding' m.ichines, and of stei'l and iron tools, from the axe to the ^iant lathe. .\ fraternal relation has been established with its old commercial antagonist, Hamilton, by the layiuL;' ol a steam tramway. No xicissitutic of fortuni: can di'|)ri\'e I )undas ol the greatest ol her ancient <^dories, and that is her glorious scener\ , which iinoluntarily brin^^s every tourist to his feet as the train sweeps aloiii,;' the mountain terrace. .""iince the day, more than two centiu'ies aj^o, when I, a Salle, first of lun'opeans, ea/ed upon this sceiier)-, the ravine, tlu; neiL;hbourinL;- cascades, the whole; valle}', — thiM'e has been but oni; verdict, and a_Li;^ainst that verdict I )undas need fear no apjx'al I Leaving' the l)Luielas \alley, we cannot do better than strike across the country for the (irantl River. W (• take tlu; ancient Indian trail, b\' which the lirst white i;k;. \r wksm'kn rau.wav sr.MUi.N, uamiliun. AY Vv' riii-RX xi-n.iinoR 7.<:^ — ^ URINKIN'C. lOl'NTAlN IN Till-; GORli \v;i\ larcr tlirnu < z o h O m a < 2 O H |J < I \0R/'///-:RX MiU.llJiOK 67 Happily in ncitiicr case did \\\v. new laix-l adiicrc. \V<: liavc strut k tlic Ciraiul Rivt-r. wiicrc the old Mohawk Church stands scntr\- oxer the touih tiiat incloses the mortal re- mains of Brant, the greatest of Indian chieftains. This church is all that now remains of Mrant"s amhitious and once famous Indian villai^c. which lor a half-century con- tributed so main picturestpie pa,!L,'es to the narratives of toin'ists. MusinL,^ o\cr P)rant's toml) in the deepening; shadow of tlu; Mohawk Church, one's thoui^dits are borne with the murmuring river to the lake shores that often witnessed the prowess ot those terri- ble warriors; and thence onwards to those shores beyond the seas where brench and l'lnL;lish statesmen ofttMi aiixiousl)- awaited tlu; ilecisions ol Indian council-hres. While cullivatini^ tln' alliance of the Hurons around Cieor^ian Ha\ , Champlain was betraNCtI into the fatal error of makin;;' an inroad into the lair of the Ir()([U()is south ol Lake Ontario. The British (io\-ernment, on the other hand, has always shown a marked and humane consideration for all tin; aborii^ines of the Colonies, without reference to tribal divisions. Brant is affirmed to have been the son of one of the four Indian chiefs who visited Enjj^hind in 1710. Oueen Annt; had these novel visitors comfortably cared for in London, and attended by two interpreters. .Students of Addison's Spectator will remember the amusing paper in which are given alleged extracts from the journal of one of these "Indian Kinj^s": — the Indian's mythical account of the buildintj of .St. Paul's Cathetlral, and his philosophical remarks on I'^n^lish politics and fashions. Out-en Anne became so interest(;d in the evancrelization of the Retl Men that she presented to th(! aborii^ines of the Mohawk Valley a commimion service of solitl silver, which went through all the turmoils of the Revolutionary War iminjunxl, and was brouiL^ht over by Brant on his emic^ratins;' from the Mohawk to the (irand River. The service is still carefully preserved and is used at Communion. It is rej^arded by the Indians with Ljreat vt.'ueration ; for, b\- historical as well as ndiyious associations, it visibl\ links them to the great past of their race. Is it wontlerful that the more thoughtful of this ancient race should now s[)end tht'ir lives in sad day-ilreams on tlu^ epoch when the Irotpiois were imdisputed masters of all the Creat Lakes, and of all the ntjble rivers and of the rich woodlands antl their sunn)' gkules from the Ottawa and the Hudson to the Mississippi? Lahontan, writing in 1684, estimated each of the fr.-e cantons of the Iroquois Confederacy at fourteen thousand souls, of whom fifteen hundred bore arms. A sixth "nation," the Tuscaroras, was admitted in 1714, bring- ing with it another warlike contingent. By their sagacity and elotiuence at the councibtire, as well as b\' their matchless bravery in the field, the Mohawks long held the Hegemony in this unitpie Confederation. Is it wonderful to find this taciturn but emotional race living in the past rather than in the present? Talk of "reserves" to a race- whose hunting-ground was half a Continent ; you might as well have allo- cated Lake Windermere to the Danish vikings that roamed at will over the wild North Sea ! 68 01 h' ricrrRi-:s()ri'. The Treaty of I ln(lil in 171,, dciLiitd tlic Ii()(|iiiiis (."()Mf(;(ler;u'y, — tlu'ii coinpris- injj^ I'ive Nations, -to lie iindi r the innicc lion of (ircal Britain. I lie trust thus undtr- laken lias ever since inlhieucfij tlic policy of tiu' Canadian as well as ol ihe Imperial Government. \\ hen the Civil contest broke out l)et\v<'en Mni^laud and the .\mericau Colonies, the Indians oc;nerally remained faithful to the "(ireat I'ather," and i^rant's inrtuence far mon; than out\veiL,died the opposition of the Sem^ca chief, " k(,'d Jacket." When the l> Canaila in i860, had been enrolled a chief of the Irocpiois Confederation. The oiilconie of this acklr(;ss was a public movement for a Brant Memorial, which it is intended shall occupy the centre of the \Mctoria Park. Hrantford, opposite the Court House. Alonj^ the (irand River Valley from Hrantford to Fert^us we have a Ioiil;- series of picturesque si:ats of industr\-. The chief are ikantford. I'aris, (ialt, IVeston and Iilora on the main river; Ayr on the Nith, which joins tin; (iranil River at Paris; and (iiielph on the Speed, which joins the (irand River at Preston. Amontr the leading industries of Hrantford are manufactures of eUL^dnes and boilers; port abl e saw - mills ; _L,frist-mill machinery ; aiLjricul- tural implements ; stoves and ploui^hs ; cotton and stone- ware. Ainiilst these enj^-ross- ini^^ interests the etlucation of tlu; youni^ has not been over- looked. The Public luluca- tional System imludes, besitles the ordinary e(|uipmenl of Central and Ward Schools, an extensive CoIle_'I:/..iiiFJ. K.MI.KO.M) HKUxa:, I'ARIS fjood library, a museum, lecture- rooms, laborato- ■^^v rK;s and conserva- tories. The desij^Mi of this admirabh; inst iition is to apply to agriculture the principles, the methods, and the discoveries of modern scientific research. I .\( Vv' rin-.Rx Miu.inh )i<. 79 Ni:\v rki-suvii-.KiAN riiuKcii, hai.i Cialt's historical tree hccainc tlic radiant |)niiit tor the future cit\-. ( )u the massive stuinp was forthwith phmtcd a c-ompass-staff, and the Surveyor, Jaiiics McDonald, pro- claimed ///(f/ to ije the centi'e of the nt'w settlement. After, howi'\-er, this solemn word had passed, souk; scf))"!^!!^' by-stander spoke uj) and said, that now, for onct.', the centre of a circh' would lie on its circumfen'nce, because the sur\c\or was tluMi on the verv etlLj^e of the town-plot! I )r. I)unlop, the witty and eccentric suri^eon f)f tlu- Canada Companv, was earl\- afield when an\' project was started that im|)li<'d either hone-setting or the s|)illinL;; of wine. I )unloi) prom()tly r-duced the surveyor's dislocatio)t b\- e.xplain- uii;" that the streets were to be disposed like the rib.s of a lady's fan, and were to radiate from dall's tree as their centre. The scoffer was mute; lik(! tlu; web of an uns,;(;()nu;trical spider, the plan of ("luelph was woven; and so it remains. Ihe scene of thes(.' eventfid sa\in Civic Penates were honored with a public feast and libations. A threat dinner was had, ami the attend- ■ ince secured of all majj^nates Gait could lay hands o\\. .Souie glimpses of the occasion, as through a door ajar, are affordetl by y\j4'nes Strickland in the volumes of her father's recollections. ( )f the i^uests. Ca|)tain John Hr.uit. the son and successor of the great Thayendanegea, madt; the greatest impression on Colonel .Strickland, lie notes with .idmiration tlu; grand physicpie, the dignitied bearing, antl the pithy eloquence of the Mohawk Chieftain. P'or the "long, (|uiet, winter nights" at the Prior)', (ialt had plotted out much literarv work. 1). A. Moir, — the gentle "Delta" of Blachiunnis Mai^azitu\ — wa& his <)wii l)roth(.'r in literature : ami ten years later would b(!Come his biographer ami literary executor. Writing from (iuelph, in 1S2S, he tells I)(;lta that his mind is then engaged on a byochiirc descriptive of Canada, and on "another volume for IJlackwood." The ("iU(!lph settlement was filling up with unexampleil ra[)idity, for the Superintendent's energ)' provided roads and bridges through what had been an unbroken wilderness. The settlers elsewhere began to contrast in most pointed comparisons the apathy of the Provincial (jovernment in not opening up for them proper means of transit. As (ialt sal in his library, gazing dreamih' into \\\v. great back-log fire, and building out of the glowing embers towering projects, commercial as well as literary, he was roused with a shud to I'.nnland and ask th(! Court of l)irectors wh.it all this meant? " ComiiiL; events cast then* shadows before": the loiihia, with its diary and ledger, reached I{nL;land liefore him. Mveii at tlie drnmdii-ad inveslii^ation which ensued, the Superintendent triumphantU- vindicated his management; hut what of that? lie foimd that his ^ra\c hail hc'ii iIul,^ Infore the court-martial had l>ei_;un I llis connection with the Canada Cf)mpany was ended; hut h<' lived to set up in the pillor\' of everlasiiuL; scorn and dei'ision all concerned in this intrii^iie. While taking his last Inok at (luelph, for which he had loded and suffered much, then; was a |)athelii; farc'Well in front ol the Priory. .\ huiulred and forty-four families had within eiL;hteen mouths set up houses on the town-plot, ami now with tears starting; in their e\es they came to his door to tell (ialt how deeply the\' felt his efforts to raise them from dependent circumstances to comparati\e independence. They added an earnest hope that he woidd speedily reliu-n to them. Hut his work here; was done, and he had amply earneil tin; m'atitiKle of Canadians. In crealiuL; the towns of Ciiielph and Cioderich am! the interveninj.^ se\enty-ti\e miles of broad hi>.(hway he left to rpp(*r Canada an enduring; memorial of his three years' residence. Anil in " l.awrie I'odd," where; he uses his exploration of the ("irand River as well as other scenes trom his Canadian portfolio, he has left us a charmim; literar\' sonvtMiir. In these latter days of vast land corporations it is well to recall the histor\' of our lirst threat laiul ciunpany ; to learn how much a humane manager was able to accomplish for his shareholders, while actively promotiiiL^ the comfort and welfare of the settlers. The knoll that (iah bestowed upon the Anij^lican Church had alread\' disappeared before; his death. The site is now occu|)ieil bv St. Cieori^fe's Sipiart; and the Post Ottice. The Presbyterian knoll was levelled c'.own to form a site for tlu; present Market House. The "Catholic IIill" still survives to illnstrat(; Gait's . I N/o/>ioorrii/>/iy, wmX as we approach the hill throu^^di " Macdomll " Street, we are reminded of one of the novelist's friends who remained constant while so man\' others proved faithless and treacherous. Where Gait ailmirini,dv ilescrib(;il (iothic aisl(;s of oxerarchinL,^ elms, now stand broad streets — " Wyndham " Street ami the rest, tl. inked by solid structures of the .\7)A'////:A'.\' Mih.linOR «;> (■n-ainy-wliilc niaj^iU'sian liincstonr for whicli (iuclpli is fatuous 1 liis a(liniral)li' iiiatirial is found alHMul.uiily on Waterloo .\\- rnur, uilllout K\v\\ raviuL; ill'' I il\'s liniils. ( )nc of the oldci" hoti'ls is point- id out as ii;i\ \\v^ )ccn l)uilt of the stone (|uarrieil from Its own ( ellar. When M'st t.iken out this v/i/\ after Mr. I)o\Ie; and M iii chisoiiia C7(irk(/\ after the I lonourablc Mr. .Speaker Chirke, who has ilone so much to preserve; the |)ioneer annals ol ilic District, and to interest the public in its scenery, I'lic (lUelph bOrmatioii makes main' notable contrii)utions to the scenerv of Western Ontario -the ^lens, s^-or^es, cascades of tlu; (irand River b.isin. the piclur- escpie disorder of the Sau^ceii X'alU'y, the romantic windings ol the .\u.\ Sables, -but there is nowhere |)roduced an effect more charmiiiL; than the Meetinjr of th(! W.iters ;it Elora. Here, walls of dolomite, in some places eii^ht)' feet hioh, --rise sheer from the water, or so overhaiiL^, th.il, lookiii;.^ uj) from bel.^w, we recall, with a shudder, Shelley's vi\id picture in ///<• L\tui: — " Tliere is a niif^lily rnck Whicli Ikis lioin unima^iiiahlf years Susliiiietl itst'if will) terror and witli toil Over a mill', and with the aj;ony With which it chnt^s, seems slowly coniinj; down ; i;\(Mi as a wrctciied soul, hour after hour. Chutes to till! mass of life, yet clinj;iiig, le.iiis, .And le.uiini;, makes more dark the dread abyss In wliich it tears to tail." The vilhiLre at the rotnantic I'". ills of the (irand River is tio more than tift\' \ears old ; but liulian tribes, titne out of tnind, made this pl.ice their f;nouiite enc.i, iptnent. To enilless fishititi^ and deer-stalkitiL;- was .idtled that natural IxsiutN, th.it deliLjhtfiil latul- scape which, as his leL;( nds prove, the Indian e'ijo\'etl with the keene.t zest. .All "iroiijLjh the rtiilest legends of the wii^Mvam, tliere are Vvoxcii eiich ittlin^ i)ictures of the Happy Hunting (irounds, their tlclicious vertlure, and their brilliant llowers; the song .\vvv'/7//:/v'.\' xi:i(;inhv< 8^ of hirds ; the deer l)()iin(ling throiiL;h llic rich wooillands ; the siimn lorcst i^hulcs ; the (•(Mil river overshadowed hy hifty tn-es, and ripplcjd hy eountless hsh ; the merry laughter of the' waterfall. As I'llora now hears the name of the xcstihiile that leil to liic Paradise of tlie lar distant India, so our hither IncUans rejj^ardcd this lovel)' spot as no unwortln portal to the l'd\siuin of their dreams and hopes. |ust such a summer landscape as we ha\e here must ha\c deepU in^ sed Milton in his younger da)s, and kiiulled his fancy when alterwards out ol the darivncss lu: pictureil n\v. ol the scc'iies in h.den:- I'mljiMKeous ^Tots and caves Ot cool ri'ccss, o'er wliiih llic iiiaiuliiij; vine L.iV' liiilh luT purple ;^i:ipc, mil ^tnllv creeps LuMiriaiit ; nu iiiwliilc nmnnuriiii; w.ilcrs I. ill Down the slope lillls, disper^l ; or in .1 Like, — I'll, It til llie Inii^rd hank uilli niyrlle crowned Iler crvsl. 1 nnrroi holds, -unite their streams. At 'l"'lora, we are in tiu; \-ery heart and stronL,diol(l of the old Attiwandaronk Land — the realm of that |iowerful Xeiitral Nation, which L,dimmers throiii^h Champlain's narra- tive of i6i5-<), flashes out, ten years later, \w the letttM- of the friar Daillon, steadily j;lares with a haleful lii^ht through th(^ lesuit l\clalio)is, and then, with appalling; suddenness, is for e\cr e.xliiiL^uished hy the Iroquois invasions of 1650-1. liie Ntnitrals formed the earliest historical inhahitants of the tlistricl \\v. are now illustratinij^. At the dawn of our annals they were in possession of the whole central and southern portions of the ^reat Peninsula of Western ()ntario; and thus la\' inter[)oseil between their dialectic cousins — the llurons of (leoroian Hay —and .inotlu;r related race, the Inxpiois, of New ^'ork .Slate. Though of kindred race, the llurons and the Irixpiois had lon;^ been at deadK' f<'ud ; l)\ ;i remarkable compact, howtn'er, as loiii^' as the\' wert* within the bounds of the Neutrals, they were to meet .ind for ver\' man\' ye.irs did meet —on terms of a])parent amilN', oft( n sharine;- not onl\' the same wii^wams, but the same meals. The Ntnitrals thus held the balance of ])ower, and thev w( re strong' enough to enforce this siin^nilar armistice throughout the whole of their wide dom.iin. Thev' controlled both sides of the NiaLjara Kixcr, Lake ()ntario as far as Purlin^ton Hay, and the whole Canadian shore of Lake I'a'ie ; while their inland jurisdiction, as ah'eady saitl, covered the central and southern tracts of thi' Peninsula. In 1626, this \vid(^ realm was governed b)- tl;e iLjreat chief Soidiarissen, whose authority was imchalleni^-ed throui^hout the twenly-ei_i;ht consider- able villan-es and towns thai tlien piclures(|uely dotted the land. Such a unit\- of com- mand anion^ the Indians was almost without precedent ; but so was this chieftain's prow- ess. Me had made successful war on seventeen hostile tribes, and had always rt^tin'ned with droves of captives, or heaps of <,diastly tro|)hies. In one of these forays he leil his lierce warriors from the banks of the Grand River and the Thames to the farther shore t)f 86 ^vA' men if 1015 (>, i^a/ed wist- full\' towards this reahii of th(; Neutrals, which was still, as regarded I'.nropean posses- siiiii. \(i-inan's L.md. I5ut the ilnrons nrL^cd the L^real danger nl the cxjiloration. and lht>U|^h accompanied 1)\ a I'rench tone armed to the icetli, C hamplain's stout heart here lailed him. i he honours ot the enterprise were resei\cd lor I )aillon, a Kecollei or I'ranciscan i'riar. In i6:!() i)aillon. with two other !■ reiichmi-n. hoKlK' enlei-ed tln' realm of the terri- ble .'"iouharissen. 1 he Iri.n's sole armament w.is the pack on his back. ,ind a stall in his hand. This perilous enterprise, iu the land ol giants, recalls the aiKcntin'e of Christian and liopeful in the I )einesn<' ol (liant I )espair. Ihil our ( )ntario pilerini was ruileU' disciplined two \<'ars belore |ohn IWniNan was born. an\ a incff; miracle. C'ontiniKni^ ill-iisaiL;(' tollowfd ; liiit, (|n(>lli the li-iar, •• all this is just what uc look lur in tlif><- lands." Kiiiiark in lliiisc few (|uii't uonls ihr sini- |ili-. snMinic |ihili)s(ii)hy dI the man ! W liati\cr niir creed, we instiiu'ti\ i-l\ admire Mich heroic selt'-sacrilice. .\ rinnor ol tin; friar's diath h.i\ in^: reai'lieil the Huron Mission, lireheul sent , ■'•-^?^f^''"lr. b... A t- Lo\l-,K'S \\..\\\ l-.l.oK.\, w.\rui K lUi-.K i-;ocK, ik\i.M'. i;i\'I',r. to the scene one ol I )aillon's former t;nides, who led him hack fi^om this Irnitless emliassy. I'ourteen \iars later .mother effort was made from the 1 iuron Mission to t liristiani/<; the Neu- trals. This time canu? C'hau- monot. the |esnit Missionary, and the d.iriiiL; liridjciil him- self, •• the .Xjax of the Mission," lint once more the tre.icheroiis and mercenary llurons excited auainst the |)il;.;rims the wildest fancies that e\cr ran riot in these primexal forests ; they excn tri experience, but, in the C.rand River forest, as in the I'orest of Arden, it niii^ht well he, that the sharpest pain did not arise from "the ic\- fan-; and churlish chidin^ot the winter's wind," What causetl iireheuf real anil hitler anL;uish was the failure of his einhassx-, the imiu'iiitence of this peoi)le, their repeateil 'and unL^rateiul rejection ol the Messat^e. To him mere ph\sical suffering' was a spiritual ecstass ; tlu- deatlliesl cold was hut " the seasons' ditlerence. " " lUow, blow, lluiu wiiilcr winil; 'I'lioii .lit Mill sii unkinil .\s 111. Ill's iiigiMlillidi'. * * * * -i" * * l''rf(vi', lit'f/c, llioii winter --ky ; Tliou (lost nut bile so iiii;h A.s liunclUs loiyot." As the lesuits were retracing- tlu'ir steps northwards throuj^h the woods a snow- storm closed in around them. The ilrifts were imi)assahle and the scowl of the fierce aborigines was e\-en more forbiddiuL; than the faci- of nature. iWit in the hanlest ol winters, while wantleriuL; through these salens, you often come upon sw(;el tinklini; rills that refusi' to be frozen, and hard by, >-ou ma\- Imd, jierhaps, a mat ol \erdure,-- the brook-cress, the frond of tlu' walkinL;-fi'rn or even the blossoms of some lin^erinL;- wild- llower. When all himian pity was to outward seeming- coULjealed, a woman's heart was o\erllowin_L;- with compassion for these ill-used men, and the stor\- of her kindness forms a delij^htfid oasis in a narratixc- of continued suffering;. This noble dam^hter of the forest and llower of womanhood si)urn(.'d the fears, the reproaches, the insults of her clan ; welcometl the pilij^rims to her lodjjje, set betore them th(> best of her store, obtained fish from the river to enable them to kee]> then- tast- days, and with this gentle, thoughtful care, entertainetl them tmtil they could re- sume their joiu-ne)-. Durim;- this precious int<'r\al the linguist ISrebeid had mastered the vocai)idar\ of the Neutrals, and constructed a L;riimmar and dictionar\ ot their dia- lect, which latter, like their ^eoj^raphical position, bridi^cd over the interval between the Hurons and the Iro(|uois. it is from the faded manuscriiits .md the archaic breiich of these tirst explorers that we must ^^lean the lirst word-pictures of the romantic district \\f are now illus- tratini;. Daillon. as we ha\c s.iid. was lufe more than two c(;ntin-ies ami a hall a-;<). He saw the landscape kimlle into the crimson .md s^old of auttnnn ami then melt away into the deliiiotis languor and reverie of the Indian .Summt'r. .\fter IraNcrsins; the heart of the Peninsida, and what woidd two huntlred ami tifly years afterwards A OA' '////; A'.v M-.n;iinoR sy become tlic riclu'st a_Ljricultur;il district of Ontario, the worthy friar u;lo\vs with en- thusiasm.— " I nromparahly Ix-aiitiful," he exclaims, " incomparaMy the most extensive, the most l»eautiful, and the most fruitful hmd I ha\c yet exiih)red." Throui^h ids few artless lines of description we can see it all : the corn-lields wa\in;j^ their tassels in the wind ; the j^olden litroiiillcs !,;leaminiL( Irom their leafv covert ; the l)ea\t'rs castiiiLj up earth-works; the streams cpiiverim^ with their shoals ol tish ; the scpnrrels sciiitlin*;- anions; the houghs to escape thi' swooping luiz/ard ; the wild turkey llutterin^' in the co|>se; the countless deer and elks ^lancint; throuj^h the glades; — altojn^ether, thought the poor weary friar, such a land as uiiL;ht he rest! id and enjo\al)le to lin^icr in. Hreheuf visitinl the Neutrals when their countr\' was uncler a wintr\' p.ill. which jierhaijs h(!St accorded with the sonihre earnestness of his character. It was his hahit, wherever possihie, to withdraw lor his devotions to some wild and lonel\- L;len, where the awful solitude was reiuU'red e\cn still more impressive l>y the solemn or^an-xoice of the for(;st. ,\s lin'heuf tra\('rsed tlu; Neutral Land throuL^h its lenj^ah and breadth, and twice sojourned in its \-er\ heart, Ik; must have heeii familiar with these wild ra\ ines. rhe\ mii^ht supply to a recluse man\' a natural cloister anti orator\. If we would at- time our minds to the; mood of this ox cr-wrou^ht, heroic |esuit, who was now lieinu; last iiurried on towanls a most appallini; martyrdom, — let us visit the ^or^c with him in the eerie twilight ()f a midwinter evening'. The cloud-rack driftiiiL; across the sk\' lutokens a wild ni!_;ht. I lu,- shadows are fast closiniLj in around us, and the imagination peoples these rock\' solitudes with tlu' scenes of hoxhood. We are no lon^icr in New I'fance, hut far awa\' in ( )ld 1' ranee, wwA in Hax'eiix, that most ancient ot Norman cities, where Mn'heuf, niL;h three centuries au,''o, spent his dreamx hoxhood, .\s \\v skirt this fro/en moat, observe those massixc fortress walls all battered with war, wrinkled with watch- fuliu^ss. and hoar\- with the rime of ai^es. We enter b\- the open barbican. ( )\-er- han}j;inj4' the |)ath is a Norman watch-lower, with loop-hole, and parapet, and the cresset-slock for the bale-tire. W'e look aloil. ;inil start back. Was it fancv, or did the warder on the tower wave us awa\' with a wild gesture.' I )id a cross-bow rustle at th<' loop-hole? It was but the ni^hl wiiul swaxiiii; the shrubs on the crumbling ramparts, a';d creaking ihe wild grasses and sed^^'es aL;ainsl the embrasure. W'e ad- vance lhrou;^h the deep winding- street, which presently widens out ami disclosi's in the dim persjiective the llaiikinL;- towers ol the old dui:al palace. The lights are lon^ out, and the revi'lk-rs are lonij;^ silent. (bit let us leave behind those distracliiv,^ thouj^hts ol the world and turn our steps towards the ancient cathedr.d. '. )bserve those '!> inj;' l.'uttresses ; how the\ loom up .it^ainst the nii^ht. We enter by the naxc. What a noble vista fading awav into the darkni's-,1 Those graceful elm-like shafts rist' nearlv ei^htv feet from the lloor beb)re they lose themselves in the groined roof. Through the aisles we ^ct u^limpses ol the Lj'reat mullioned and '/liated windows. The li''ht has now all but faihnl us. That human torm Kiu'' out in relief on the 'n-eal <)o lU/< /'/( /rA-/:\S(Jf/{ toiiil) is ;i mailed crusader, with arms cross.-d, awailin- the last !r:r/7/J iumI liie I. real Riiiih-.iviis. This l)laik ai\lnva\ leads dnwii lo the aiK ieiu (lypt. I.«'l us desi-eiid. Tht: sloiu: steps are lra\c'd l.\ the leet ol a.L^es. llie -loom down here is awful. Feel your wa\ l>y those mi-hly pillars; tlux rarry the ehoir. I'he inassi\e ruins that jostle \.)U are lallen loml.s the lomhs ol the Centuries. I he\ ha\e witnessed the trials, the sorrows, th<' an-iiish ol untold -ciuMMiions, This i-ry|.t is as old as IJishop Odo, the hrother ol the Coni|uei-oi- ; l.ut there w.is a lorest sanetiuiry here ui the days of the Druids; I )ruids ^ -a\e, .i-cs before the Druids! Ditl \ou hear solt music? -"It sounded lik<- the si-hin-' ol th<' winter wind in the forest." It (am.- Irom the ^reat or-an loft far ahove our lie.ids. Now lor the second time you can hear the music pealin- aloii.u the v.uilted roof; tlio-,e closing;- not.'s .ire the sui)phcatui.i;- tones of the .\/is,riT,-. It has ceased. i'.iit a-ain the or-an he-ir.s to hreathe, and now a \vr\ tempest is sweeping lh<' he\s. The reeds fairh shriek with terror, aiul the -ivat pipes swa\ to and fro in their di-^tres-,. Ihllow after hilh.w of sound rolls over our lieads; these massive archw.us quiwr like .ispens. It is the pealino . thunder of the /h'ts Inc. In -(X'd truth the Day of Wrath was ni-h. TIk- fearful desol.iti(ui that within nine years swej.t the Land of th.' .Neutrals mi-ht well appear to the C hurch. whose mission had l.e<'n twice rejected, a swift an.l lerrihle jud-nieiu. .\t this comin-. the visitants hore in their hands no ;^-entK' l',\an^cl. .\rmed with the matchdocks they had lalelv -ol from the Dutch at j-ort ( )ran.,a- (.\ll.an\ ), lh<' Irotjuois. in lO-jS, stole th.rou-h the winter forests towards their old foes, the llurons. When si)rin,- opened the\ storme.l the llunm towns, and exterminated, enslaved, or dispersed the inhal.itants. Some <.f th.' llm-ons who esca|.ed the toma- hawk tied for refu-v into the Neutral Land; l.ut the Irocpiois no lon-vr respected th.' neulralitv. or the Cities of kefu-e. Ihe turn of the Neutrals themselves came next; and wh.it could the su|ierl. p!iysih' 9> tills fret In (lianicltr ; and which cxcn \fi, altrr cii^his \c,ii> ol i:iilli\ alioii, i^ lutl whoIK olihtiiati'il. Al the iK'Ws ol this (hia-^tiT the inland towns were aliandoni-d lo their tate ; the Iroipiois toi'ih and tomahawk swept nnresi-,t( o\er the lac*' ol tile whoir reiiinsula 1 he listers, \\i\cs, and daiii^hlers o| the .\enll'al> were (h'ivcn lielore tile con- (|iieror-, auav into lni(|iioi-^ Land; ol the m.di' inhaliitants who e-Ma|ied, iJu; more \ i-'oroii-i iKal to tlie coiintr\ be- yotul 1 .ake I I nion, while the chil- (h'eii, the sick, aiul the aL;e<|, cowered amoiii,; tlie fens atid lorests and L^h'ns ol the ( irand Ixiscr. In tliose le colour. I)id some Indian beaut)', tlyino' for protection to tiiese natural cloisters, aiul takiiiLj oil her now useless and dangerous jewelry, conlkU' to this secure casket the; necklaces that had set off her charms at many a moonlii^ht or tirelii^dit dance? ( )r. was it some antitpie niiser ? —perhaps some Huron refus^ee. for, unlike the Neutrals, tin; llurons had a strong' financial turn and a keen instinct for vv;im])um, iliil some miser, carr)'ini;' his mone)' with him in I'lis llioht, lock it up in this Inxitk vttii// be)()iul the reach ol the; lro(|uois? A stream tricklim^ through the strata carried out belore it a lew of the beads, and so l)etra)'etl the secret which had lain fast hidden in the heart of the rock for more than two i-enluries. The solitude which followed this " liarrvin^ of the North" was, if possible, more complete than the desolation carried through the North hnL;lish shires b)' W'illiani the Norman, .As the Coiicpieror's path of havoc throuL;h N oikshire coidd, seventeen )-ears afterwards, be tracetl, pa^l^e after pa^e of Doomstlav liook. b) tin; entr)' o)iiiiia 7>.'its/(f, " ti total waste," — so for a century after the Inxpiois invasion, tlu; brench X()A'/7//:a'.v \i:n;iiiiOR 9;, iiKips have iiothiiii; to tell ns of tliL' Western Peninsula laii iitifioii di'lruitc, iiatiou i/c/ini/c — " trWw.?, ext«'nninate(|. " The ceasehiss wars ol the Ir()(|iiois left them no leisure for colonization. Durini::^ the perioci of the Con(|iieror's occupation \\v have lieen ai)le. after diliijent researcli, to tuid but a sinj;le Irocpiois hamlet in tin; whoh; I'eninsula, and that a L,M*oup ol eiirhteen or twenty huntini^ iodj^es. This hamlet was tailed 1 inawatwa ; it lommanded the lishinj^ and hunliuL; of the upper (ir.md River, and stooil near the western vm\ of the porta}^(! that h.'d over from HurliuL^lon Hay. The husbandry of the pr<'\ ious Indian epoch had made numerous openings in the lorest, sonu- of which sur\i\cd to puzzle the U. E. Loyalists; but in most cases the; .uu'ient corn-tlelds and pum])kin-!4arilens wen; speedily overgrown by lofty trees and diMise undery^rowth. In this New l'"orest the \(;ry sites of the po[julous Indian towns and \ illay'es that witnessed the; preachiiii;' of the Jesuit Missionaries were lost ,111(1 forL;i»tten, and have only in our tiuK; been pariiall\- recovered after patient and laiiorious resi-arch. ( iame, small and lars^e, now rapidly imdtiplied : in 1669 — tiiat is within twent\- \cars after tlu; extermination of tlu,- llurons and Neutrals— the Sulpic- i.ui Missionary (ialinei' ilescribes the Peninsula as menU' the stalkin!.;-<;round for tleer, anil tht; special bear-e;arden of the Irocpiois sportsmen frt)m I'lastern Nt;w York. The lilai'k bear establisheil himself here so strons^ly that, as lalel\' as thirt)- )-ears ai^o, ^portsmi'ii of anoth(;r race were occasionalU' rewarded with a bear in the nei^hbonr- iiood of I'.lora : and their adventures supplied e.xcitin;.^ "locals" for tlu; columns of /"//(• /tiukwoodsiiiivi. The outbreak of hostilities betwt-en I'" ranee and ICn^land presently left the Irocpiois no leisure for himtiiii;' excursions to the west, even if they had not beeii dispossess(;tl of their conipu'St b\ the nomads of tlu; "Wild North Land." Wanderim^- ( )jebwa\- tribes, particularh' the Mississai;as, strecuued in from tlu; north, aiul, by tlu; tinu; ol the ke\()lutionar\' War, h.ul ov(;rllowed tlu; whole tract from the I )etroil frontier to the ( )ttawa. Li tlu; deeds for the extinction of the Lulian title, from 17S1 onwards, the (.'anadian ( "io\-eriU)rs recognized these tribes as the sole aboriginal races of tlu; W estern I'eninsula ; but we now kiu)w that their title rested on .1 briel occupation, and that the historical abori]4iiu;s were exlerminateil. To the era of the ( )jebway occupation is ri'ferr(;d the local m\th of Chief K.'i;-chim-a- Tik. The tai/iti/zaii Monthly lor iSSo i^ives a mi'trical \ersion, telliui;- how a fair Lulian captive, devoted to the M.uiitou of tlu; halls, la\' bound on an altar in front of the cav(; thai iu)w b(;ars the 11. mu' of tlu; Ojebway chief ; how, under circumstances of spi;cial awe, the chief re.scued ii observe; a r\iined canal-lock and a row of ck'ca\e(.l house's e)ii the bank. 98 OUR picrrRHsorr Tliis is all that is left of the ai Seneca, whose stir aiul acti\ity were, thirty \ears a,n(), citeil as an unanswera- ble reliuke to " tlu- cry of ruin and decax' I " Seiu^c? was one of tlu createtl 1)\' the dranc River Xaxiqation Compa- n\. llieir tus^s and steamboats useel to s^iN'e niui'h aiiiniatitJii in those days. to the landscape; : they plied I ro ni Hrantford lo Lake I'.rie ami Iluthdo ; or, turnuiL; aside at ) u n n \ i 1 1 e , they steamed through the Canal-feeder to tlu; ports on Lake On- tario. There were (giants in the forest Passinj; throuoh the townshij) of Dumfries, (>alt ran at^ainst an Cl.eH HOUSE. oak, whose ittance, for the wliole forest was thrown upon the market. There was no husl)anelr\' (;f the woods, no care for the futun;, no renewal of trees: "After us. the delui^e!" As the wood- lands were stripped, there came spring" freshets of terrific violence ; for the winter's snow that formerly melted at leisure was now instaiul\- released by the first warm sun. These lloods rose high, overllowed th<.' banks, and turned the woods into veritable parks of artillery: fallen trees were drawn into the swift current, and launched against the Navigation Company's works, '~i»f^t *^ ■' T~ demolishing lock-gates, dams, bridges. 'ihe retribution was complete : the forest was e\- liausted, the river-fountains were (h^ained, — and so also were the Company's finances. The open- ing, in 1S56, of the Buffalo and Lake Huron I\ailwa\' from Fort luMe to Stratford completed the Company's disaster. At onl\' a few points on the river, ■a\m\ onl\- for manufacturing purposes, are the constructions maintained. This ruined lock at Seneca is a very picture of desolation. The canal-l)ed is so silted up as to be used for a kitchen-gartlen, — a garden of (ucumbers. The great oaken arm that swung a welcome to die arri\ing \i;ssel, or wa\-ed a ban voxaoc to the lake raftsmen, has fallen down in helplessness and sheer despair Once the lock-gate braced its massive shoulder against 'he mound of water; now, withei'ed and shrunken, the mud drivelling from its parted hps, it stands there the image of weakness aiul imbecility. Let us away. .Some 'iiiles down the bank the eye rests with enjoyment upon three noble trees, which may UM.K I NSI 1) SrOKlSMKN. \no orh' i'iciri tak.^ a look at the Countv IU,ildin-s. which were erected from a desi-n ,)f the late L'. W. Cumber- land on a plot runnin.c,^ out to the riverd)ank. Then wc sweep past pretty river-islands, and undernc.ith the brldj^e that carries Talbot Street across the (irand River. This old militarv and colonization n.acl ranked in im,.ortance with Vonu-e- Street and Dundas Stn-et; it ran from the Niagara Frontier to the Talbot settlement, a hundred and twenty miles westward, with c-xtcMisions to Leamin-ton and Satulwich. and a northern l,ranch from Port Talbot to London. The " Str.-et " still bc-ars the name of the eccen- tric rcck.se.-military. not rcligious,-whose Christian name has been both canonized X(iA'////:A\V X/:7(,7//>'()A' ^^«i»^^ie A rA^TORAT. nil I -Sini— (".KAMI KI\'I K VMI.KY. I02 iH-R ricrrRJiSQi'i'. aiul ciishriiu^cl in "St. Thomas." Below Talbot Street Hridoe the (jraiul River makes a sharp elbow : a f(!W strokes of the paddle and we pass the tiiU' church of .St. Stephen's, with its tower and spire shadowed in the water. Then past the i;\psum catacombs tunnelled far back into the Onondaj^a Tormation. Ihe rivt;r now widens to a lake. Ik-fore an iidand sea became' the i^reat mill-i)ond for the Wellantl Canal, the (irand Rixcn- was banketl up at l)unnville: and though now rarely used for pur- |)oses of naviL^ation, the great ilam continues to furnish valuable water-power to the mills and factories l)elow. Tort .Maillaiid is at K.'nuth reaclunl, on the l)roatl estuary of the (iraml River, and we are now in full view of the Lake. 'To-day it is a scene of wild u])roar, for a furious October ^ah; is blowing' from the south-west. L^niler tlu; lash of the tem])est, the ^reat waxes rear and plunge ; then, tossini,;' their iL^rey manes, they are off like race-horses for the shore. Ihey are now nearin^- the land, their heavin>;' tlanks white with loam, and the earth (|uivi;rs beneath the ihumler of their cominiL,^ just like tlu' (October <-la\- of '^^:;, that rimt the rope of sand which had until then anchored Loiil;- Point to the mainlanil. A sou'wester banked up the lake into a i;reat water- wall to leeward : then, the wind suddenl)- falling;', the water returned westward with a tremendous recoil, breaching- the isthmus, and jilou^hin;^- out a channel nine fei't deep and a ihousaiul feet wide. And just like that October tla\' of 1669, when ("lalinec: saw Lake j^rie in its wrath, and wrolt; the earliest notice of these stormy waters. JoUiet had discovered aiul e.Nploretl the; lake but a week or so Ix'fore. lie hatl also found out and explored the (iraiul Ri\er, which was to be but tlu; prelutle to his tindinL;' a grainier ami a mii;htier ri\-er the Mississippi itself. We have already witnessed the interxiew of Jolliet with La Salle ami his .Sulpician Missionaries (ialinee and l)ollier. TVom jolliet's own rou^h chart of his discoveries, (ialinei; matle a more scientific route-map, and subsequently corrected this by his own explorations. Galinee's manuscript, bearing the date of 1670, was a few \ears ago discovered b\- M. ALirgr\- among the Paris .Archives, and it supi)lies the earliest existing ma|) ol Peninsular Ontario ; for Champlain's map and others that followed were only conject- ural, except as to the tract covered 1)\- the Huron Mission. Cialinee's narrative has been made accessible in the able monograph of the Abbe X'erreau. Well, leaving jolliet ami La .Salle, and descemling the C irand River with a convoy ot ten voyagcurs and threi; canoes, the .Sulpicians worked along the T^rie shore westward, looking for winter (piarters. 'They selected for their encampment one of the streams entering the lake to the south or south-east of jarvis,- doubtless the stream marked A'. d'Ollicr in Hellin's Carte dcs Lacs, of 1744. 1 L-re in the woods, about half a mile back from the shore, they spent rive months and eleven days ; anil during three; months of this sojourn the)' encountered not a human being, not even an Iro(pu)is hunter. So unbroken was the solitude still, though a score of years had passetl since the extermination of the Neutrals. XOA' rilERN NEIGHBOR \o'- siMcob:. Tin; LoiiLT Point couiitrv still iiKiintains, tliroiiiL;li [""ishery Laws aiul (.'lub" Icnise rcmilations, soine- thiii!;;' of its ancient ccle- l)rit\ lor tishini:;- and for fowling; but two centuries a!.;o there was no necessitx' for " open " sc:asons or close preserves. The waterwa_\s wert; thron^etl 1)\- black bass, sptckleJ trout, and sluri^con. Tlu; salmon, — tiie " Kini;- of fresh-waler lish," as eld Izaac Walton calls him, was unable to storm Xiai^ara b'alls, and so was unavoidably absent. ISut ihe pike. Walton's "tyrant of fresh water," -was there in the form both of the " Mi-htN- Luce," and of the far mv^XW-'wr Masqiic-alloiioc. To entertain his company on mallard ducks, or canvas-backs, or •'red-heads," or "pin- tails, or " bluf^-wiiiMcd teal," a fowler of r.alinee's part)- nt'eded not to be punted out into the marshes ; nor, anchoring- wooden tiecoy-ducks, to lie perdu amonij^ the wild nee until the birds left home at early morn, or came in from the lake at twilii.,dit. In those (lays thc^re was no need of ambuscade, or breech-loading- "choke-bores," or pat(Mit ammunition; the feathered uame llew in such cloudis into the iM-enchmen's 104 OCR /'/c/'Ch'/-:so[7': faces, that tlun- had only to l)hi/,c a\va\- as fast as they could load their cliinisy siiai)iiances ; llu-y inii^^ht mi'ii knock down the iliicks with thi;ii' wootU-n ramrods. Alter the water-fowl had taken their southwanl llii^ht, the winter of 1669-70 set in so mild that the purx'eyors for the camp would onl)' have to go throuLjh the forest and knock Christmas turkeys off the l)ranclies. Nor was the fruit)' sauce wantin^J. for tialinee enunntrates cranberries {ics a/A as) amons^ the stores in the larder. Then there was xc-nison of three sorts, and in marvellous ahuntlance ; it was served liolh smoketl ami fresh. By wa\' of ciitrcc there couUl he liad for the taking, that tidhit of Indian chiefs, — the tail of a plump heaxer. Hut the hears, — ah, we hail forj^otten the hears ! These most of all arouse the worth)- .Sulpician's enthusiasm, for " tlu-y were fatter and l)t'lter-lla\ ounnl than the most savour)' roast-pij^;' of I'rance." I'iv(;r)'- thiuL,'' called up meiiiories of the old home. The encampment was in a land of xincs and walnut trees. After the choice nicnn of the wootUands had Ixjcn discussed, these i^uests of fair New I'rance doubtless often lin^eretl around the rustic table to re- member the dear Old Land " In al'ier-dinner talk Across tlie walnuts and the wine." Galinee describes the wild L^rape of the district as red and sweet, and as (equalling in size and thn'our tlu; be. " I'Vench ^rape's. It yiedded a fidl-bodicil wine ol rich ■■•*^*tw^ KIKINf; Ol'T A SOU'WKSri.R U.N'DLK Ll.K OK LONG POINT. colour, remindin;^r hi,n „f the wine of the Graves District (near Bordeaux), and (|uite as ,i,mod. On some bits of sandy loam near Lake Erie, this grape grew in such pro- .\'(>/v' riiiiRX xi:n;iinoR lO: fusion tlial t\V(;iUy or thirty hoiijsheads (/i,jr/i/iiis) of i^^ood wine iniL;IU Ikuc hcfii madr upon tile spot. Altoiretlicr, cpiotli l-'atlu-r (ialinc'c, "this country I call the earthly I'aradisc of Canada {Ic payadls tcn-cslrc liii i'iiii(u/(t)." On Passion Sunday (March 23), 1670, the Sulpicians with their voyaocms went down to the lake-shore, and there set up a cross, hearini^- the arms of Louis X I \'. They thus in solemn form took possession of the couiur\- for I'r.mce, while coinniemo- ratinc;' their own sojourn in these solitudes. The wooden cross must ha\c soon disappeared ; hut they left a more (Mulin'in!^'^ miMnorial of their toilsome march in the' fra_i(ments of luiropean pottery that startleil the first I'"n_nlish scatlers on the lake-troiu. ill th(Mr (^ai^^-rness to enter on tlu'ir niissionar\' labours, the Sulpicians imprudently broke up the encampiiKMit, ami withdrew from the woods before sprinj^' had o])ened. Immediately afterwards, they suffered the direst (extremities of cold ami hun;^cr. Easter Sunday was spent on the isthmus that then connected the present Loul; Point Island to the shore. The fora_L^ers had becouK; so reduced l)y want of food that they could scarcely crawl into the woods to look for ^ame ; but the missionaries ^ave up part of their own scanty allowance to lend strem^th to the others, aiul a half-star\ed deer was soon broui^ht into th<> camp. .So this forlorn party spent Master 1 )a\-. Through Easter week they subsisted on a little maize softened in hot water. I'lie lake seemed to them to I'md a malicious j()\- in thwarting their progress. ( )nce a tremendous surf, rising suddenly carried off a canoe, and k:ft them to cross half-fro/en streams as best they might. Then one night, as th(;\- were slumbering hea\ il\ on I'oini I'elee after a march of nearly twent}' leagu(;s, a \iolenl north-east wind sprang up, and the lake swept across the strand, up the bank, and within six feet ot where they slept, bearing away with tlu? returning wa\e the greater part of the baggage and pro- \isions. The missionaries lost, what was to them of intiniteh' greater moment, the- Communion service, without which the\- could not now (.'stablish their int(;nded mission on the Ohio. It is plain that Lake I^rie was of ;is stormy and tlangerous a temper two hundred \-ears ago as it is to-da\', when a whole tleet of vessels, like wikl .^wans among the lagoons, cower for shelter uiuK.'r \\\v Point. Prom the da)s ol |olliet and the Sulpicians until now this wiKl Iak(; has been the rough nurse of bold adxcnture, and of heroic self-sacritice. P'very one is familiar with the stor\- of brave John May- nard, the l-lrie lake-pilot, whose \\vx\ death at the helm (iough has so powerfully described. P)Ut nt^arer home, and too little known to Canadians, is the inspiring story ot the Heroine of Long Point. The November of 1S54 chased with the storms and bitter cold of mid-winter. Among th(; vessels belated on the Lake, was the thnn'-masted schooner, Coiidintoi\ of Amherstburg, laden with grain to the water's edg(% and striving to make the Welland Canal. Driven before a furious sonth-w(;st gale, while attempting to rountl Long I'oint and reach the Bay within, she struck heavily on the outer bar, and then plunged io6 (^('/^ I'lrrrRRsori- hcailUniL; into the (Iccp water hcsoiid. The rie; this time to make a double rescue. l'i\e times more;, till the last man is landed. Then for the tn-e and th(\ tea-kettle lo restc^rt- life lo these half- frozen sailors. When they were able to use their benumbed limbs, sIk; led the wa\' lo a place of shelter ; and, lakini^' from her litlU; ston- of food, she L;a\(-' unlo them. So they were tenderly cared fv,r, tla\' alter day, until a [)assinL^- \-essel took them oil, and re- stored them to their homes. As soon as the castawaxs rc'aehed Andierslburi:;-, where the \essel had been owned and manned, lhe\- did not fail to enlist public interest in birhalf of the heroine. The owner of the vessel, Mr. John McLeotl, — then a member of the Canadian I'arliameni, led the moxement, and besides raisin:^- a substan- tial purse by private subscription, induced the CioNcrnment lo allot to Mrs. Hecker, from the Crown Lands, a lumdred acres nctar Fort Rowan, and looking- out upon the scent; of the rescue. Then Captain l)orr so interested the merchants and shi[)-()wners of Hut'falo, that Mrs. Becker was invited over, and, after beint^r feted, was presented with a |)urse of $i,ooo to stock the farm ^ranted by the Canailiaii l^irliamenr. Present 1\ the tale of heroism reacheil New York, and tlu; l.ife-Savint;- Association decorated Mrs. Becker with their l;oK1 meelal, taking-, in lieu of the usual written acknowletlu;- inent, "-which the heroine could not write, — a |)hoto^raph showini^- the medal in her hand. Abi_i^ail Becker now became the theme of .\merican newspapers and mana/ines. All this to the unspeakable wonderment of the simple-miiuletl, blue-e)ed woman her- A sioioi OX i,.\Ki': Ki^^n-:. io8 OUR PICTL 'R ESQ Hi self, wild, in luT stcrliiii^, if nidi'-coincil, Iviii^lish, in;iint;iin- v(\ to thf last, "she ilid no niorc'n shc'il ou^lil to. wk^ niorr'n slu-'il do ai^ain." I'dr ihc present, leaxiiit; the lake-shore, we strike inhunl 1)\' that l)rancli of the (irand 'I'runk wliich, start int^ from I'ort I )o\'er, passes throus^li the conntv towns of Norfolk, Oxford, antl I'ertii. th<'n through Idstowel, I'alnierston, Harris- ton, and so on to W'iarton on ("ieor:_;ian Haw At the out- set we keep the !,\llil close on our i'i.i;ht, hut presenth' the ri\('r heconies so enlani^letl in the railroad tliat we cross tour hridi^es in two and a half miles. Cutting' across tlu; corner of the Xorlolk Ai^riciiltural .Society's !_;rounds. we enter .Slmcoe. As the train rolls thi-ouL;h the town we oht.iin p.issinL;' views of the ]\i\er l.\nn, with its hroad mill-ponds, of the C"ount\- Huildinos, and A K(i.\i>snii'. SKI 1 en. THRESHINC; BY HOKSI'.-I'OWI ;K. U^ \() A' ////■: AW \A:i(,iinoR !()() of the I'liioii Scliool. The town owes its origin as well as its name to tlic \Isit ol (io\(i'iior Siiiu'oc in i 7()5. 1 hen- is a local tradition that Aaron COUcr. one ol tli<' \orlolk pioneers, ollcrcil loi' his I'lxccllciU") 's arccplancc a haskcl ol w atcr-niclons ; and lli.it Siincoc marked his hii^h ollieial approxal ol the limit 1)\ hestowinL; on the donor the hest ini!l-site on the L\iin. W'e are now in the land of hi^h fanning. I'he A'^rii ullnral and Arts Association ol Ontario has ol late mmi's heen ollerin;^ a i^old inedal lor the farm which will stand luL^lu'st on fifteen iritii-al tests ol excellenct'. In iSS(\ in a t'omix'lilion ol nine I'decloral l)i\isions, the ,L;old meilal was awartied to a larm near Simcoe ; in i SS i the competition coxcretl six lar^c I'dectoral l)i\isions, aiul tlu; ^old meilal was won l)\- a farm near Woodstock. Ihe network ol railwa\s now c(i\erin]^ the Count\ of Norfolk has created I'.xcelleiU markets lor its tarmers at Simcoe, I'ort l)o\er, and W aterlord. We enter Oxiord Counl\' through the " Onharil Township ' ol Norwich. .\s we approach Xorwicluille in this time of fruit harvest, and see those fair daughters ol the West amoiiL;' tlu; ^oKlen apples and NcllowiiiL;' pears, we seem to ha\t' loiind the lonj^' soni^lu (lardens of the i lesperiiles. Hut the (iolden Kussets and the Memish lieauties are guarded l)\ no drai^on ; here all are I'rieiuls. The orcharddiarx est is now in lull i:areer. The demands of Canada and the Iniled .Stales are to he sup- plied; then some ol the choicest fruit will ^race the winl(;r sicU'lioards in the stateU' homes ol I'ln^land ; the rest will l;(> to the cannim; lactor\ at ()tter\ille, or to the evapor.itors at Xorwichx ille, I'ilsonhurL;, and Woodstock. The numerous milk-stands l)\ the roailsitle remind us that, in i S04, under the L;iiiil.mie ol llar\c\' I'arrin^ton, this township knl the wa\ to Canadian cheese-fai'tories, which ha\(,' heconu; a special industry ol Oxioril, with liiofrsoll as the oreal cheese market. Almost helore we are aware, the train howls into Wootlstock. We notiit,' on tlu; ri^ht a stately pile of buildings tK,'vol(.'tl to the Woodstock College. Mere, m.iny years ai^o, .111 interestiu!..;' xent'irt' in the higher co-education of the sex(.;s was made, under the auspices of the Baptist Church, hy the late Dr. lAle ; and, with their satisfactory ex- |icrieiux; of the system, the lolle^c authorities are now more conlident than ever in its soundness. I)_\- the ^ift of Mc.Master llall, Toronto, the Theological Tacult)' has heen enabled to assume a distinct existence', and, as was anticipated by the generous donor himsell, -this st^paration of functions has thrown fresh \ii.^()ur into the Liter ary I'acnity at Woodstock, as well as into the Theolooical I'aculty at Toronto. Ali!.;htin^ at the railway station, aiul sauntta-in^' a block northwards, we aie L;ratitied to met't our old militar\- friend, Uundas .Street, which, after leaxiiii; Toronto, we lound at the Credit River, aiul then uiult'r the (xlias of the "' ( "loxcrnor's Koad "' \\v. saw at Duiulas, and soon after at the .\::;ricultural CoU-'l^c, (liielph. The street will yet '(■a|>pear as the main artery of London, just as it is here the main arter)- of Wood- stock. The old homi'steads at tlu' east eiul of the town call up mingled associations : I lO LH/^ PlCrrRlwSOl'F. the house and ijrouiKls i)f 1 )r HlacHiuicrcs, shailutl by trees of the ancient foresl. the rectory of Canon lieltiM-i(l,i;c, and, near l)y. Old St. Paul's, that lono- listened to his elo(|uent ami scholarK' discourses; then, farther hack, the home of Admiral Drew, once the dare-devil Ca|)tain Drew of the Caroline enterprise. In the central i)oi-tion ol Dundas Street the eve is caught hy the graceful architecture of New St. Paul's. 'I he interior is in i)leasin<4- harmony. < )ri;an practice is procei'dim^', antl wt: liji>;-er to hear " 'I'lio >t(irm llu'ir lu:-li-liiull ori^^n- iii.iki.-, Ami tliiiiiilci-uiu^ic iiiUiiiL; >haUu Tlie iirn|ilu'ts lila/iiiK-d on llu' luiiR--." On the stri'ets to the ri'ar, wc; ha\-e a succession of solid structures: the Count)' lUiildinj^s, the lar,m' church of the Methodists, the Central and llii^h Schools. Look- \w'^ askance at Xi'w St. i'aul's from the opposite side of the street is a tine temple to the i'otUless Moneta, whose; worship has somehow everywhere sur\ived the o-eneral crash of ancient nntholo,!^^)-. And beside the Imperial liank is the Market, which to-dav tempts us with the rich products of O.xford helds, j^ardens, (Orchards, ami dairies; while oviM- a-^ainst the market arc; crowded stores, — altooethi'r a tieUl day for O.xford farmers and Woodstock merchants. The street tratlic is swelled by heavy wains ot homed)uild, bearini,^ away to the various railway stiitions the manulactures ot the town ; -reed oruans ; furnitun' in cane as well as in beautiful nali\c woods; and then a miscellaneous calaloi^ue of products which recpiirc; some classification, or we are- apt to fall into such incongruities as tweecls and barbed wire, soap and tlour. leather antl cheese. A few paces westward of the market we n-ach a tine avenue 132 feel broad, shaded on l)oth sides with double rows of trees. It is named after the eccentric old .\dmiral whose forest Chateau lay a few miles east of Woodstock, and yielded Mrs. Jameson, in iS;,;, one of the liveliest sketches in " Winter Studies and Snnnner Randdesi' Mrs. Jameson was staying- with a family in lUandlord, near Woodstock, which was then, she tells us, " last rising- into an imi>ortaiU town." " ( )ne da\ we tlrove over to the settlement of one of these ma^nilicos, .\dmiral \ , who has already expended upwards of twenty thousantl pounds in purchases and improvements, liis house is ntally a curiosity, and at tlu; first -lance reminded me of an .\frican villa'.^n' -a sort of Timbuctoo set down in the woods: it is two or three miles trom the hiiih road, in the midst of tlu; forest, and looked as if a number of lo^duits h,ad jostled a.i^^ainst each other by accident, and there stuck last. The .Xdmiral had beL;un, 1 ima<,nnc. by erecting;- as is usual a loL^-house while the woods were ilearino ; then, beim,^ in want of space, he added another, then another and another, and so on, all of different shapes and sizes, and full of a seaman's contrivances odd naileries, passages, jjorticos, corridors, saloons, cabins, and cupboards; so that if the NOR rHI-RX NIUGIIIH ) A' III M'W ST. I'.M'I, S cmRCII, \\ ( K II IS !'( i( K. milsidc rcinimlcd nic of an African xilla^c, the interior was no less like tliat of a man-of-war. The draw- iiii^-rooni, which occu- pics an entire luiiKl- iiiL;. is really a noble loom, with a chimney ^^iiVvi^, A FARM ()\ lilt; OXIOkl) Sl.Ol'K. 112 or/^ rirri'Ri'.snrr. in which they pilr iwcnl) oak h),iis at once. Arouiul this room runs a i^allcry, well hi^huil with windows from williout, throiii^^h which then: is a constant circulation of air, kccpiiiL; the room warm in winter aiul cool in summer. 'The Admiral has l)e- sides so main ingenious and ine\i)lical)le contri\ances [w warming- and airing his house, that no insurance office will insure him on any terms. Alto,t,a:ther it was tin; most straiij^-el) picturesiiue sort of dwi'lliii;^ 1 ever heluld, and could boast not onlv of luxuries antl comforts, such as ar(; seldom fouml inland, hut ' losa allra f^iii lai-ih' or at least '/>/// riira.' 'I'lu- .Admiral's sister, an accomplished woman of indi'pendent fortime, has latc:l\ arrived from luirope, to take up her resi- dence in the wilds. llaxini; rect'nth' spent some )ears in Ital)', she has brouL^ht out with her all those pretty objects of :/r/ii with which l^njj^lish travellers load themseK'es in that countr). Here, ranj^etl rountl the room, 1 found views of i\ome anil Naples; /azzi and marl)les, and sculi)turc: in la\a or alabaster; miniature copies of the eternal Sibyl and Cenci, Raffaellc's X'atican, <^c., - thin,L,^s not wonderful nor rare in themsehi's, — the wondi-r was to see them here." The lad)' referred to was Mrs. J'^ast, in whose honour Mastwood xilla^'e was afterwartls named. Woodstock is now one of the towns most faxoured with railwavs. With these manifold temptations to luxurious travel contrast the roads oxer which Mrs. Jameson toiled less than half a century a^o. " The roatls wi're throughout so e.xecrably l)ad, that no words can j.;ive you an idea of them. W'e often sank into mud-holes above the axle-tree ; then over trunks of trees laid across swamps, called here corduroy roads, were my poor bones dislocated. .A wheel heri; and there, or broken shaft biuL; bv the wa\-side. told of former wrecks ami disasters. In somi: places they had, in desperation, \\u\v^ lari^e boughs of oak into the mud al)\ss, and covered them with clay and sod, thi: rich orct-n foliage projectinL;" on either side. This sort of illusive contri\ance would soim:times ^ive wa\-, and we were nearh' precipitattnl in the mitlst. H\- ■ the time we arri\t'd at IMandfortl, my hantls were swelletl anil blistered b\- continuall)- i^n'aspin^- with all ni)- streiii^th an iron bar in front of my vehicle, to prevent myself from bein,^- iluni^- out, and nn- limbs ached dreadfully. 1 never be- held or imaj^ined such roads." Hut after all, the scener\- amply consoled this literar\- artist. The forest, " lit uj) with a changeful, magical beauty," the birds, the way-side (lowers, were continually detaining her, and retarding the already slow wagon. iler American landlord at Hrantford had kindly volunteered to see her safely to Woodstock. " I observed some birds of a species new to me ; there was the lo\cl\- blue-bird, with its brilliant violet plumage ; and a most gorgeous species of woodpecker, with a black head, white breast, anil back and wings of the brightest scarlet ; hence it is called by some tin? Jicld- ofjliccr. and, more generally, the coik of the loooHs. I should ha\e called it the cox- comb of the loooa's, for it came Hitting across our road, clinging to the trees before A'OR T/fERiV NRKillin )A' I I 1 ,^.^^--"« i-^^^ ^ »y<«5i US, iinil nniaiiiinjj^ pcrtinac Oii.ly in sit^lit, as if conscious of its own splendid array, and plcasc'd to he admir( d. There was also tlie Canadian roi)in, a bird as lar^e as a thrush, hut in plumatfc and shapi; resemhUnj^ the sweet bird at home ' that wears the scarlet stomach( r.' There wer(.' threat numbers of small birds of a briL,dit \clIow, like canaries, and 1 believe of the same i^eiius. Sometimes, when I looked up from thv' depth of loliaL:;;e to the bhu; firmanuMit above, I saw the eat^le sailintic through the air on apparentb' motionless win^s. Nor let me fortret the splendour of the llowers which carpc'ted the woods on either side. I mii^ht have exclaimed with Hichendorff : ' () Well ! Dii M-hrmc W'ult, Dii I MauM sivhl l)iili \iir lilijnici) l;niim !' — for ih.us in sf)me ])laces did a i ich embroidc;r(nl pall of llowers literally liidc the earth. There those beautiful jjlants which we cultivate; with such care in our L,^ardens, — azalias, rhodotlendrons, all the i^or^cous famil)' of tin; lobelia, — wen; llourishini; in wild lux- lu-iance. TY'stoons of creeping- and parasitic plants h u n u- from branch to branch. The purple and scar- let iris ; llu' blue lark- spur, and th(; ele- g;inL Canadian colum- bine with its brij^ht pink llowers ; the scar- let l_\-chnis, a species of orchis ol the most ilaz- 7. 1 i n t^' i^cranium-colour ; and the whitt' m'A \el- low and purple (\pripe- dium bordei'ed the path, anil a thousaiul others of most resplentient hues for which 1 knew no names. 1 could not pass them with lor- bearance, and iii)- dri- "ir, ali>rhtino-. gathered for me a superb bouquet from the swampy margin of the '"rest. I contri\-ed to fasten m\ llowers in a wreath alon^- the front of the wagon, 'hat 1 might enjoy at leisure their novelty and beauty." ■^'r>*ri\u\lc\l - lilt. WA I I- KINO l'l,A( K. 114 O L rR PICTURESQ i li Such, fifty years aj^o, was the vestibule of the Thames X'alley. Hut, Hke the venerable cathedrals of l-'lanclers, the finest of our okl forest-minsters wen; swept by the axe of the iconoclast. The I'lemish imajj^e-breakers at St. Omer's and Antwerp slashed the pictures, but spared the build- ings. Our iconoclasts slashed the picturi's, and razed to the earth the noblest of our forest sanctuaries. Nave, aisles, and spire fell before the axe of the pioneer and the lumberman. And to the axe was often added tlu' torch : so that even the beau- tiful mosaic lloors were destroyed ; for the mould itself antl the exquisite native flora that it held were burnt up. The grand- sons of our iconoclasts are now anxiously bethinkiiiL;' themseKcs how to recox'er those majestic wootls, and realtorest the ri\-er- b:uiks ami hill-sides; it would surely also \iv. well to tr\' wlu'lher those sweet wild-tlowers cannot be charnutl back. A {v\\ braids of barbetl wiri' carrietl around bits of wild wood miL;ht. by excluding;' cattle, restore till' lost llora. To tlu' impressi\-e forest scener\- of the elder tim(,' have succeeded sunny pastoral landscapes. The labyrinthine CluUcaii ot X'ansittart would now be as dithcult to find as would tlu- bower of bair Rosamond b)' the older Woodstock; the Admiral's tle- mesne is now a famous breeder of race- horses. On the u|)lands of BlandfortI we stand on the narrow brim that dixides the basin of the (irand Rixcr from the basin of the Thames. Hastward, the streams course swiftly towartls Lake V.nv. Westward is a «,rentl(; slope extentlin<; tar beyond (•\c-sht)t, and finally losins^' itself in the champaign countr\' that is watend by the Lower Thames and the .Sydenham. \'on favoured land is the; Thessaly of ( )Kler Canada ; a land covered with a net-work of rivers and ri\iilets, which tra\ erst; a rich, deep soil; a land well dowered with sleek kine and swift steeds. "Nurse of heroes?" Yes ; if in the prehistoric times the leaders at the council-fire or on the war-path WOODl.AN 1) M.OWKKS. J NORTH URN NEIGH IH)R 115 were of the same inettlc as tlu- cliiefs that fout^^ht cither a_t,rainst us or for us Within this western tract of Ontario we shall lind the home of I'ontiac. We shall tinil also the tield where Tecumseh stood at hay when an I^nj^lish Ljeneral ran like a fawn. Spear for spear, either of those Indian chiefs would have proved no mean antagonist for the ,i;reatest of ancient Thessalians. — the mij^dity Achilles himself, — and they had the merit of titrhtinj^ in a worthier cause. In its upper course the Thames hums its way o\-er the [jehhles as it winds through the O.xford glens. it crosses Dundas Street a littU; to the west of Woodstock ; then amidst some sweet scener\- it passes Beachville ami ent(;rs Ingersoll. The channel passes through the \ery heart of the town between hill terraces which are crowned with pretty villas. The slumberous stillness of the ri\er contrasts with bustle of th(; cheese- fairs and with the clangour of the great implement-factor)- that skirts the water. Onward to London, where it receives an aftluent from the north, forming the " r|)per b'orks" of ))ioneer times. The Thames \'alley abox'e London affords ri\er \iews of great bcaulN'. Three miles below the citv, .Spriiigbank forms a favourite holidax' resort, with most picturescjue approach, whelhcr we reach it b\' the road or the ri\'er. Here the high bank takes its name from an exhaustless fountain of pure cold water, which is raiseil to tlu^ rest'rvoir on the hills, and supplies the distant cit\-. The I'hames presenth' enters the; reserves of the I )ela\\ ares and the Munce\' Indians, tJieii glitles softK' past the battle-ground ot old Moi-;i\ian-T(i\\ 11 and thence onwartis to Chatham, • where it is joined b\- Mcliregor's Creek, forming the "Lower bOrks." L\cn at London the river cri'e])s with a drowsy motion, but below Chatham, bather Thames has fallen into a deep sleep, his bosom scarcely heaving with an undulation. In this state of euthanasia he' passes gentU' away ami joins the ceruU'an " Saintc- Claire." l)Ut lor the discoloration of the blue lake, it would be ditlicult to deti'ct the eiUrv of the river. |olliet sailed down tin: lake in 1660. and (laliiiee asci'iided it in the following Near, but neither suspecteil the existence ol a large river. In 1744, N. Hellin, the map-maker to Louis X\ .'s Department of Marine, inlorms us that the river had been explored for eightv leagues without the obstacle ot a rapid. The 'Thames hail not then oblaini'd a name, but soon afterwards the still water seems to have suggest<'d the name of " The Moat," — La Trauclicc, which ])resently bt-cauK; La 7'rai/(//(\ imder the same process that converted Sa/'ufr C7a/rc into "Saint Clair," ami /.ac Jim- into ■' Lake T^rie." (iovernor .Simcoe's Proclamation of July 16. 1 7c)2, which wouKl fain have convert(,'d La iirainii' L'livicrc into "'The Ouse." permanentiv transformed La rramlic into " 'The Thames." In this topographical edict the Governor parcelled out his new Province into nineteen counties, ami as the heart of tht; Western Peninsula was still to English- men an almost unknown land, he would walk over the groimd, ami see it for him- self. Setting out from Navy Llall, Niagara, in the dead of winter, 1793, he drove with ii6 0( A' /'/( '/'( 7k'/:S(>( ■/;■ w- St ft ...4.'^'i'}|* mSk ^1 ON Tin: TH.\M];S. .\V>A' /■///:■ A'. \- XI-ICIIIU^R I \ six militars oKiicrs to tin; I'ortx -iiiilf Creek. AiiKniLi his conipanions were Majoi' I .ittleh.lles and 1 .iellteiiaiU Tailiot, hdlli in the lliish oi niaiihnoil ami ea^'er lor aiUeiuure in the western wilds. These \nim:_; ()iric<'rs were soon to l;e se| laiMI ed, Aw\ their paths in lili' I heiice- lorwani witleh' (li\ero(i|. Maior Liitlehales was now Sinicoe's Militar\' Se( retar\', and nideed iiis .'~>errelar\ of .^lalc ; after obiainiiiL: his . \m^^^'''''W^'^^W^^'s^^ ■■'"■■■ arnu' jironiotion. he received ,i liai'oilet- cy, and tor niL^h a scori' ol \ears was I \\(\r\- .S(irciar\ lor Ireland. Of I'alhol we sh.ill hear more anon: tor the pres- ent let it sultu'e to sa) thai he was now S i in t o e ' s Pri\ ate Secretarx' and most Till-: iii\Mi:s \ At 1 t:x', laiow ioxdox. iis OCR rici I Ki-soii-: conlklcntial finoN ; that after service in I'landers, where he won his colonelcy, he sold his commission and returned to the Canadian forest, — there to hecome tin- builder of the ]L,^reat Talbot hiijhua), an eccentric recluse, tlu- |)atriarch of some twenty-eitfht to\vnshi|js, and the tutelary saint ol St. 1 homas. The ( "io\-ernor's I'xpeilition to the Western frontii;r was to jiroxc ol tlu- tirst conse(|uence to the Province- ; antl fortunately a \W\v\ Joitnuil in Littlehak-s' writini,^ has surviv(-d. It was printc-d in the Canadian l.ilcrary Mat^azinc of Ma\, iS_^4; aiul it was rc-printi^il in i.S()i in tin- columns of sonu- new'spapers ; but has aj^ain bt-comt; scarce and inaccessibU-. ( )n reaching- the l*"orty-mile Crt-(-k, Simcoe's part\- climbed the Mountain and then struck across the country for the- (irand Rixcr, where- the- wa\farers were entcrtainc-il at the Ni-lles' hom(-st(-ad. Tlu-n ascending- the river, the ("io\(-rnor was rec(.-i\(-d at the Mohawk \'il- la^e with a J\n dc joic. Resting' at the \illai4e lor \.\\xv.v days. Simcoe and his suite attend(-il service- in the old church that \vt: saw at the rivt-r-sicU-, and were much pleased with tlu- soft, mc-lodious voicc-s of tlu- xoun^' scpiaws. Reinforced b)- Brant and a dozen Indians, the expedition iu)w crossecl the water-shed aiul descended the Thames X'alley. Wintt-r though it was, Simcoe \vas profoundK" impresseil by the magnificent landscape of ri\(-r, aiul plain, anil woodlanil, that opened out before him. No surveyor's chain had yet clinked in these solitudes. Tlu- remains of beaver- dams, recently despoileil, were to be seen on the streams. Tlu- occasional visitants were Indian sportsnu-n, who could doubtless ha\e explaineil the painted hiero}^l)-phs on the tri-es that so int(,;rested Simcoe's officers; then tht-re were tlu- half-Indian, half-satyr kindred who trappc-d tlu.- fur-coate-d animals, and clothed themselves with some of the spckls ; and there was the winter courier bearing- des|)atches from Kinj.,rs- ton to T\)rt Detroit; and last anil rarest of all, you mi(.,dit happen on the extinct camp-fire of some younnr explorer like Lord lulward FitzgeraUl, alread)- heart-sore with disappointment, and pininj^ for woodland life and adventure. 'That romantic youno- nobleman, — ^the fifth son of the first Duke of Leinster and (jf ancient Norman-Irish lineaiije, — had served with distinction as Lord Rawdon's aide-docamp towards the close of the Revolutionary War, and was severely wounded at the battle: of luitaw Sprin_L,''s. He was found on the field, insensible, by a poor ne^'ro who bore him away on his back to his hut, and there with the most tender care nursed him until he coukl with safety be removed to Charleston. The "faithful Tony" was thereafter his in- separable companion, on sea ami on land, throus^h trackless Canadian forests and whithersoever else a fearless spirit mi>,dit lead, until an awful tray^edy closed his mas- ter's career. After sonu; experience of the Irish Commons and of European travel, Lord Edward met with a cruel disappointment in love-, and thouL,di "Uncle Rich- mond," — who was also the uncle of our Duke of Richnu)nd, — pleaded his cause, the father of his luaniorata continued obdurate. 'Truth to .say, the lady herself prov(;d heartless ; and the whole story reads like the orii,dnal of Locksky Hall. He was off, X()A''/7//:A'.\' MiliilinOR no without even his mother's knowkidj^fc, to join his rci^nincnt ;it St. John's, New Hnuis- wiik. lie hiKl a major's commission in the 54th, as WiMiam Col)b('tt, tiuii scrv- injf in Nova Scotia as scrLjfant-major, ever !L;ral(liilly rcmcmljcnd, for Major litzj^erald oiitaint'd the fiiliirc an'itator's disciiarLje. Lord 1 )orchesti'r, ( iovcrnor-(»ent;ral and Com- inandcr-in-C'hicf of ijic l-Orces, had been an old aihiiirer of tiic 1 )iich(,'ss of I.cin- slcr, and nalurall) indulged Ikm" son in his passion for adventure. The tirst e.xciir- sion was a tramp on snow-shoes ol a luuuhHtd and sevenlj'-ln'i; miU-s Irom I'reil- erickton to Oiiehec tiiroii^h a trackless wililerness. Then westward. I luier the L;Miil- aiii r of iirant, -for whom he had conceivi-d the warmest admiration antl fricMidship, - Lord I'^dward traxcrsed the Western I'eninsula, xisilin^;' tin- Mohawk Xillauje, anil e.\- plorint; the Ihames X'alley hy the same Lnliaii trail o\er which Hrant was now K^ailin^' (jovt^rnor .Simcoe. After leaving at I'Ort l)elroit the relief party of which lie was in charL,'^i', .Major I'itZLjcrald would |)r()ceed to I'Ort Michilimackinac and then strike awa\' for tlut Mississippi, desceiulinn' which to New Orleans he would hurr\' home to see tin; fair one on whom he so often and fonilly mused while far away in these Canailian forests. Hut on reachini:^ the Duke of Leinster's residence he would lind a i^ranil entertainment in full career, and amonsj; the >,aiests whom etiquette re- (juired to he in\ited he wouKl find the fair ( i and her Inisbixtni ! On the 12th I"el)ruar\', 1 jg.v .Simcoe came upon one of pf)or Lord luKvard's en- campments near the Thames. Three years a<.(o this ill-fated nobleman had returned to Irelaiul, there; to dash into the i)olitical maelstrom, to (juicken the; dizzy movement in the Irish Commons, to become President of the United Irishmen, and, while des- perately resistinor arrest, to fall mortally wounded, and to die a prisoner in Dublin Castle. He was so fortunate as to have 'Thomas Moore for his bio^rrapher. Probably his hero's adventures in Canada su^rtj^ested to the poet his own Canadian tour in i(So4, and so indirectly yielded us the Canadian Boat Song, The Woodpecker, and the poems written on the St. Lawrence. Before the year 1 793 was out, the (^astern end ot the Thames Valley had been plotted with townships, and substantial pioneers had l)een imported from New Jersey. Thomas Horner, of Hordentown, led the wa\' into this fair wilderness, and arrived in Blenheim whiU; AuLjustus Jones and his Indians were; still surveyintr it. Major IngersoU also arrived in 1793, and occupied the tract on which has since arisen the town bearing- his name. The main purpose of Governor Simcoe in his fatitj^uin^' winter march, was to find an appropriate site for the capital of Upper Canada. Newark (Nia^u^ara) was too e.xposed to assault ; the Toronto portatje was not yet thouj^ht of, and when, later in 179,,, it was accepted as the site, the Lieutenant-Governor seems to have considered the transaction no more than a temporary compromise between his proposed Geor)j^ina-upon-Thames and the claims of Kinji^ston as supported by the Governor- 120 o(/< ricrrNi-snrh: (icntral Lord I)(ii\ Iicstcr. On the aftcrnonn of W'cdncsda)- the tliirlcciuh of VvW ruary. ';<);,, the cxploriii^; part) reached the fertile deUa that l.i\ at the fonlhiena' of the north and east l•ralv■he^. of the I'haines. Here they " hahed to oliscrvc the heantilul situation. We passed some deep ia\ines and made om- uiM\\;,ins hy a stream on tlie iirow ol a hill, near a spot where Indians wci-e intei-red ; ihe ImryinL;- j.jronnd was ot earth, neatly coxcreil wiih lea\cs, and wickered o\cr. .\dioinin14 it was a larL;-e pole with painted hieroi^lx phics on it. denotini^ the nation. ti-ilie. and acliie\ cmeiUs ol the deceased, either as chiefs, warriors, or hunters." Iiom the einineni-e where ilie\ |,i\ encamped, they could see the <\lended arms ol the I hames with their mniierous 1 rihul.u'ies. I'o the im,iu;in.iti\ e Indian ihis i-i\cr-\iew sui^ijcsted a L^ij^antii' elk's head and antlers with their hranches ,uid lines; .md from this fanc\ the river, Ioul;' liefor<' the entry of the Muropian into ihe \alle\. was known l)\ the name of .Is-kiiu-c-SiC-lh- The .\ntlereil l\i\er. 'The situation L;i-eatly impressed the (ioxcrnoi-. After completing- his march to Hetroii. he liurriedK i-eiiirned to make a more particular sin-\-ey, so thai he was here ai;ain within se\-entecn days ol his lirst \isit. I'he following' is the entr\- in Major l.ittlehales' Joiii-iial : " jd | .March, 1 Ju.i |. .Struck the I'hames on one einl ol a low llat island. The rapidit\ of the current is so ^rcai as to ha\c formed a channel throui^h the mainland dicing- a peninsula), ,uid formed this island. We walked o\cr a rich meadow, and at its extremit) reached tlie forks of the riser. The ( iox'ernor wished to examine this situation and its environs and we therefore stopped here a day. lie juileed it to he a situation emineiuK calculated for the Metropolis ol all Canada; arnoiiL; man\' other essentials it possesses the following; ,id\anta^es: — command ol territory, internal situation, central position, facility of water comimuii- cation up and down the Thames, superior naxi^alion for boats to near its soiu'ce, and for small cralt prohahl)' to the .Moraxian Selilement ; to the northward l)\' a small portage to the water llowini; into Lake lluron. to the south-east li\ a larryini; place into Lake ( )ntario and the Rixcr St. Lawrence; the soil hixuriouslv fertile and the land capable of beinn' casil_\- cleared ami soon put into a state of agriculture, a pinery upon an adjai'ent hi,i_;h knoll and others on the heii^ht, well calculated for the erection ol public buildini^-s, and a climate not inferior to an\' part of Canada." I)urini4 the first two years of .Simcoe's ailministration the continuance of peace with the Uniteil Stales seemi'd \cry uncertain, and \\liile preparing' a teniporar)- refuL,^' for the Provincial Legislature, the ( io\-ernor sleadfastl\- worked out his scheme of the; Mein^polis on the Thames. 'The ri\cr was frozen at the time of his visit Z2 — o"i\es a deplorable picture of the stasji^nation of tlu! Province, ami of the maladmin- istration of its public affairs. (lourhu was himst-lf a lar^e landowner near the Ihaines, and beyontl the information supplied b\' township ineetinj.^s he hail ample personal reasons tor understanding; the subject. We have s.-.'en that Simcoe's tirst thought in namini^- his capital, was to offer a compliment to C'leorj^c IIL and call the cit\' CieorL^ina, ~a name still pres(M'\(.'d in a township on Lake; Siincoe. Hut this western river had bi'en nametl the Thames, ami it seemed an obvious corollar}' that the metro|)olis on the Thames must be LvMidon. Then this saj.i^acious Cioxcrnor felt how th(; old names pull on om^'s heart- slriui^s, and it was doubtless part of his plan to charm l^nq-lishmen to his i'ro\ince b\- the mere mastic of those historic words. Were he now to rc-\ isit this spot afttr nin(!t\- years of absiMice, In; would be rejoiced to find that his feelin«,^s luul been so well understooil, and that his Lomloners had even " bettered the instruction." After he had LTot over the astonishment caused b\' the stt;el roadwa\s, and by the " fn'e- wai^ons," — as his Indians wouKl hav<' promptly called the locomotives, while .Simcoe was fumblino- about for a word, — he would tr\' to disco\er in all this marvellous trans- formation the old natural features of the " I'pper TOrks." He woukl find that the rich alluvial meatlows which he ])aced with his xouuLi^ officers havi' yieldi;d an abun- dant harvest of suburban villas, antl now bear the familiar names of Wi'stminster and Kensim^'-ton. 'To the north he wouUl miss the billow)' sea of dark !L,M-een forest which formed so marked a feature in the: landscajx' of his da)- ; he would lind that the shad- ow)- aisles throuj^h the "Pineries" have been succeeded b\ a iiet-work of liiohwaNs whose names would startle: .Simcoe by their very familiarity, — Bond .Street, and ( ).\ford Street ; Pall Mall, Piccadill)-, and Cheapside. Luleed, with the street names before his mind, and the sweet chimes of .St. Paul's lin^erini; in his ears, he would often dre.un of the ancie'Ut cit)- beside the older 'Thames. 'The illusion would be assisted b) the ^reat warehouses, bre-weries, founelries, and factorii:s. As Iv last knew this place, there was .voA' iiiiiRX \i-:n;iiiiOK lint \\ ^ i^ii ol luiiiian i)i'(.'scncc here, except the IiK lan phaiUasms executed on ti\e trees ill ctiarcoal and \ cnnilion, men with deers' heads, and the rest. In his strt)!! up Riehnionil Street he would tind niucli to detain him. lie would naturally think th(> sireel named after the statesman who was his own contemporary, anil lit? would have til l)e informed that the name commemorates that duke's nephew, the ill-fated (iov- '■rnor-( ieneral of Canada, who tlied of hyilrophohia on the ()ttawa. When last at I his Canadian London, Simcoe ri-sted in a wii^^wam umler an elm-hark roof, which lirant's Mohawks IkuI improxised. \ow, without wainlerin^- man\- yards from the railwa\- station, one m;i\- fmd comforts and hi.xuries such as the Royal Palaces of the last century could not haxc sujjplied, and such ;is our old-hishioned ( iovernor mi^ht possiblv denounce as enerxatin^. I he maze ot wiri's conxcr^inL; to \arious otifici^s wonUl have to he ex|)laineil, and barbarous words used that were not in " |ohnson," the standard 124 OrR I'/C'/'CR/uSOCH ST. riioMAs. 1 KdM Ki;il'l.i: CKl.KK r.KlDCK. dictionai') ol Simcnc's chu'. Itoiii I\is Jouiiial we know tliat alri'a(l\- with his mind's eye lie saw puhhc huihh'n^s occupyin!^- llic risin^ .t;r(iuncl, \ct we fancy ' he would l)vo„l,l .c.rtainK inquire as t„ .Ik- subsequent career „f tlu- youuR n.ajor, „l„, IukI been h.s |,r,va.e secretary, a.ul u],„n, by his letter ,„ Lord Hobart. Sintcoe Itelpecl to his 1.1-s. townsl,ip on Lake lirie. The pect.liar arcl,itecture of tlu- Middlesex Jail.-one block westward.- would certainly catch Si„,coe's e,e. and he wotdd he nn.ch ann.sed to learn that lalbot had perpetrated a n.iniature of Malahide Castle, the h„n,e of the laibots sntce the days of the I'lantagenets. Si„,coe wotdd probably ft.el so„,e secret chaKr,n. because the street that bears his own nante is not that "where „,ercha„ts n...st do consreKate;" but he „u,d,t on the other han.l to be well console.l by a walk .h.-ouKh the ntajjnificent thorou.hfare.-his old military road, Dundas Street -which here grandly concludes the ■• Onernors Road." with buildings that he wotdd certainly have: esteemed the very palaces of trade. Of .-i summer's evenin,,. the boat-houses at the foot of Dundas Street are astir with oarsmen who take the river in the ,doamin. and the moonlight. In ,ood sooth, the water ,s no longer of the crystalline purity it was ninety or fifty years since, when our I hames was as yet scarcely ^.exed by a mill-wheel. Uenham wrote of the Elder Ihames, nearly two centuries and a half a.<^o, these famous lines: "Oh, cHiM I ll„„- \ikc ,in..i., and make thy slrcMin My ^'i-cat cxanipiL', as it is my thuinc I Thoufrh ilcep, yet clear, thoiifjh fjoUe, yei n.d dull; Slrong wilhoiit rage, without o'erHowing full, But Thames /^;r and Thames /A have alike suffered from chemical works and their k.ndred: their foam is not amber, nor yet amberuris ; and in sailin-- on either we shall do well to take Denham's advice and /ccr/> our nrs on the shore — " Thnui;!, uiih (hose streams he i... reseml.laiiee hold, Whose loam is amber, anil their gravel gold. His genuine and less gnilly weallli t' explore, Seareh not his hoiiom, but survey his shore," Until two years a^o our Canadian Thames brought to mind only rouKunic scenerx-. and merry-makin,., and joyous holiday.s. TIu^i a terrible tra..-edy befc.ll One "f the toy-steamboats that plied between London and Sprin^bank was strtn-olin^ to l.rin^ back some six h.mdred of the excursit.nists who had kept the Otuvn^ [iinh 'l'^>- In- the ThanK.s.side. Soon after leaving Sprin^bank tlu. rutoria listed with an ominous lurch and strain; then be,,.an to fill. The rush of the ,,assenovrs on tiu' upper deck acn>ss the vessel snapped the stanchions like pipe-stems, and brought 'h.' whole tipper-works with tlu.- living freight upon the helpless crowd beneaih I hey all sank together. Of the six hundred souls on boartl more than a third penshed. After that sorrowful sun had set. the search in this deep and dark river -^nt on with the aid of .reat iires blazing on the banks and petroleum torches i-^o OCR PIcrrRBSQUE tlarint,^ and tlashin!:,^ distractedly hither and thitlier on the water. The scene on that awful nijj^ht inioht \i\itlly recall the ancient (ireek poet's (lescri|)tion of the; \-estil)ule of the "dank House of Hades:" — the waste shore and the >;ro\cs of Persephone, the po|}lar-trees and the willows; the dark Aclieron, the I-"lanie-lil Mood, and Cocytus that River of \\'ee|)in,!L;^. Midni,i,dit hroujL,du the solemn procession of the dead up the stream, and then the terrible recoj^nition at the landint^. \'et death had dealt _i,n,'ntly with most of those dear ont!s : they seemed to have but fallen itito a peaceful slumber on the soft Ma\- _«,rrass. The pain and the ai^-onv were for the li\ino-. That nijrht carried mournini^r into a thousand homes. When the news thrilled throu_(,di the world, a universal cry of sxmpathy arose ; from the Ro)al Palace to the cabin all claimed a share in the i^rief of this bereaved city. Of the many railways which brinij rich tributt- to London, that arri\inL; from the shore of Lake Lrie by way of St. Thomas taps a district of much interest as well as resource. LeaviuLi" Lc^ndon, and holding,'- our wa\- aloni^'- the o'entU; rise which forms the water-shed of the rich tov/nships of Westminster anil N'armouth, we lind on reaching .St. Thomas that we are looking- down from an escarpment of consider- able elevation. P'rom the western (.^doi; the cit\- commands a mat^miticeiit outlook. .As far as the eye can reach, country villas and trim farmsteads stand out in relief against i^raceful bits of wild-wood, or are only half concealed b\- plantations of deep i^reen spruce and arbor \ita'. hiterxcnint:^ are broati stretches of meadow, or loni;' rolliuL;' billows of harvest-land. 1 )own in the (lee[) ra\ine at our feet winds a beau- tiful stream, whi(-h has all tlu: essentials of romance, except the name. When, half a century a^o, Mrs. Jameson warniK' remonstrated against "Kettle Creek," nld Colonel Talbot pleatletl that some of his lirst seitK'rs hail christened the stream from I'liid- in^- an Indian camp-kettle on the bank, and that reall\- he had not lhouL;lu it worth while to change the name. The Canada Southern Railwa\- is carried across the Creek and its dizzy raxine b)- a lon^' woodi-n \iailncl which contains a \cr\' forest ot spars. '1 he L^rowth of .St. Thomas has been much promoted by this Southern Railwa\-, which, — ori«;inally projected 1)\- W, .\. Thompson, receixed, after wear}- Aears of solicitation, support from Courtrii^ht and Daniel Drew, and linalK' reached a permanent basis under the mii^luier dynasty of the X'anderbilts. Its alli- ance with the Credit \'alle\' road i^ives St. Thomas tlu; ad\aiitaL;e of a double through routi- east and west. The companx's car-shops have created a hive of industr\- at th(! eastern end of Centre Street. The adjoining- station is one of the fmesi in the Dominion, ami reminds one of the lart^e structures in Chicago and New ^'ork. Com- petition for the .\merican throutih-frei-^ht brought a branch of the (ireal Wesieru from Cdencoi; to St. Thomas. This Loop or ".Xir" Line passes onward b\ .\\lmer, Tilsonburi:;, .Siuicoe, and |ar\is; then, as we have alnadx' seen, converges to the Canada Southern at Ca\-UL;a; whence th(^ two rivals start on a fift\-mile race for the XOR THI-RX XEICIIIH Vv' I 2 International Hridjj^c at lUiffalo, hlowinL; strain into each other's faces almost all the \va)'. The Loop Line ^ives St. Thomas the rare advantaLi^e of a third throuL,di-route east antl west. Then hy the railway on which we have just travelled there is easy access to Port Stanley which, only eii^ht miles distant, is the chief harbcnir on the ncjrth shore of Lake ICrie. Tlu- develojMnent of -St. Thomas into a raihva\' centre has carried with it threat ma- terial prosperit) ; the haunts and homes of commerce and in- dustry are last ovcr'jrowiiiL!' the cit\'s limits. 1 lie ri Iil;ious edifices have kept ahreast of this material adxance. Higher education, as well as elementar\, has re- cei\-ed careful consider.ition. .An excellent Collet^iate Institute furnishes an acatlemic and professional Irain- iuL;. .Alma ColK'n'C', a line pile of huildini^s iii modern (iothic, r ^ I occupies a commaiulini^" site of six acres in the middle of ,■ '■ the city. 'I'he (."olle^c is desij^iied to i^ixc x'ount;' ladies a train- in_sj^, artistic and musital, as well as literar)-; it is conducteil uniler the auspice?; of the Methodist f'lpiscopal Church. 128 OUR PICTURESQUE At St. Thomas we ar(> in the hfart of the " I'allx)! C"()iintr\." The city's main artcr)- is the' same Talbot Street wliich se\-ent\ miles eastward we found cross- \\\<-^ the Grand River at Ca\ iii^a ; and wliich, wc-stwaril, we should lind traversiniL,^ the counties of Kent and iCssex, finally running- out on the Detroit River at Saiul- wich. Hoth the "Street" and St. Thomas itself take their name from the younf lieutenant whom we saw with (io\-ernor .Simcoe exploriii!^- a site for Lomlon in the; winter of 1793. As in St. Catharine's and some other places locally canonized, the " Saint " has been thrown in for euphony. Perhaps, too, the voluntary hardships to which Colonel Talbot devotetl himself may have sugtrested a comparison with his famous namesake of Canterbury. Vxom. the lookout at Port Stanley wc can discern, seven or eii^du miles west- ward, Talbot Creek and the spot where this military hermit renounced the world of rank and fashion and entered the wilderness, there to abide with brief intermission for nearl\- fift)- )ears ;— the spot also where after a stormy life he now peacefully lies listening to the lappinj; of the lake-waves upon tht: shore. Talbot was two years younjrcr than Arthur Wellesley, — the future Duke of Wellin^rton.— and, while still in their teens, the younjr officers were thrown much to.trether as aides to Talbot's relative the Marquis of Buckinjj^ham, then \'iceroy of Ireland. The warm friendship thus formed was kept up to the end of their lives by correspondence, and by Colonel Talbot's secular visits to Apsley House, whert; he alwaj's found Wellington ready to back him against the intrigues of the Canadian I^.xecutive. Through Simcoe's inllu- ence Talbot oljtained in 1S03 a township on the sh(jri' of Lake I'^rie; the original de- nu:sne _ti,rew in half a century to a principality of about 700,000 acres with a poini- lation of 75,000 souls. There was an Arcadian simplicit)- aljout the life of these pioneers. The title-deeds of tin; farms were mere pencil entries Ijy the Colonel in his township maps; transfers were accomjjlished 1>\- a piece of rubber and more pencil entries. His word of honour was suf'ticient ; antl their confidence; was certainl\- never abused. The anniversary of his landini:;- at Port Talbot, — the :!ist of May, was erected by Dr. Rolph into a j^reat ft'stival. which was loni^- ke|)t up in Si. Thomas with all honour. Immediately after this brief respite the hermit woukl re- turn to his isolation, in which there; was an odd mixture of aristocratic hauteur and sava^-e wildness. The ac(|uaintances of earlier life fell awav one b\- one, and there were none; others to till the vacancies. While creating- thousands of happy firesides arouml him, his own hearth remained desolate. Compassion was often felt for his lonelinc^ss : his ne])hews, one of them afterwards (ieneral Lord Aire)- of Crimean fame, — attemptt'd to share his solitucU' : but in \ain. Then his one faithful ser\ant Jeffrey died. The recluse hatl succeeded in creating around him an absolute xoid ; for we take no account of the birds of prey that hovered about. Wellini^^ton, his first com[janion and the last of his friends, was boriu; to his tomb in the crypt of ;\ Y Vv' TIIERN NEIGHBOR 1:0 St. I'aiil's amid all tlic inai,niiflcciit woe of a State funeral, and with the |)rof()inul- cst respect of a _L,fr(;at empire. Three months later, poor Tallxjt also died. It was the ilepth of winter and hitterl)' coltl. In the projji'ress of the remains from London, where he died, to the ([iiiet nook by the lake shore;, the deceased lay all ni^ht net;;- lected and forsaken in the barn of a roadside inn. Ihe on!) voice of mourninjr near his coftin was the wailing- of the night-wind. Hut, in tiial solemn darkness, the pealing organ of the forest played more touching cadences than ma)- bi; found in a requiem of Mozart or Cherubini. ' What was the- mystery in this lonely man's life, that coukl induce a handsome colonel of ancient and noble family to forego at thirty-one all his advantages of per- son, rank, and station, to pass many jears of e.xtremest hardship in the wilderness, and after all only gain an old age of sore discomfort, and llnall)' an unhonouretl and forgottcMi gra\-e ? His own answer was, that, when he was young and romantic, Charlevoix's tlescription of this I'.rie shore had cast a spell upon him. By oriler of Louis X\ ., this learnetl Jesuit, who was preseiilh to become our earliest historian, made a tour of obserxation through New I'rance. i'Ortunateh lor us. he kept along the north shore ol Lake i^rie, and recorded his observations in a Jii/ti-iiai which took the form oi correspondence addressetl to the 1 )uchess des 1-es- (liguieres. ihe seventeenth lettei' is datetl at l'"ort I'onrharlrain, Detroit, Slh June. 1721. While j)assing the esluar\ of the (irand RixiM" [/.a (iraiidc R/v/'crc), Charle- voix remarked that though it was the jSih of .Ma\ the lre(;s wert; not yet out in liaf. Then past Long Point { /.n I-oi/o'iif /'o/iih) and its clouds of water-fowl, and so wcstwanl ox'er a (piiet lake and water as clear as crystal. The explorer's part)' encamped in the noble oak-wootis wlnre Talbot afterwards found a hermitage and a grax'e. CharU^voix w,is charmed with a life that recalled tlu; wiKl freeilom of the Hebrew I'atriarchs; each da\ brought an abundance of tlu' choicest game, a new wigwam, a fountain of pure wali'r, a soft carpet of green sward, and a profusion of tile loveliest flowers. The fourth ol jul\ bi-oughl Charlexoix to I'oiitlc IVh'i. where he chief])- re- marked copsi's of red cedar. This I'oint, it will be remembered, had witnessed the great tribulation of the worth) bathers (ialinee ami I )ollier in the .S|)ring of 1(170, ;ui(l so IkuI been called Poiiilc anx Peres. At Chark'xoix's \isit the headland had ac(piiri'd its present name, but he throws no light on its meaning. it was then a rare bear-garden: more than foin- liiiiidred W'-ax'> hail been killed last wintt'r (1720-1) upon the I'oint. .Sixteen miles to the south-west of Pointe Pek'e lies Pelee Island, which, —with the exception of an islet ol fort)' acres two miles still farther out in the Lake. — iorms the most soutlicrl) possession of the Canadian Dominion. 'The temperature is so warm and e(|ual)lc' that sweet potatoes are grown, cotton has been found to oc/^ I'lcrrRiisoL E ON TMF, HANKS ()|- IIIB i)i;ii<( III'. thrive, the di'licatc Is- abella and llu,' late- ripeiiinL; Catawba here reach their highest tiavor ami j)erfecti()n. Six miles to the south lies atK^her famous vineyard, Kellc;y's Island, which terri- torialK' belonijjs to Ohio. In Charlevoix's time two of these islands were s|)ecially known as Rattlesnake Islands, and all bore a viperous reputation. Apparently with excellent reason: for Captain Carver, in 1767, and Isaac Weld, thirty years A OK THERM NlilGUBOR \\\ later, found tlit-ni fairl\ l)ristlinL,r with rattlcsnakt's. The very islamls that in our time are the most dch^^htful of licaltii-rcsoi-ts were in the claNs of the carl)- trav- ellers held to breathe an envenomed atmosphere. Carver, with charminj^- credulit)'. tells of a " hissinj^f-snake," (Mjj^hteen inches loni^r, which particular!)- infested these islands: "it blows from its mouth witli i^^reat force a subtile wind," which, "if drawn in with the breath of the unwar\- trave-ller, will infallii)l\- brin^- on a decline that in a few months must proxc mortal, there beiiio- no remedy yet discovered which can countcM'act its i)aneful inlluencel" Charlevoix entered the Detroit River an hour before simset, on the; 5th of June, 1721, and encamped for the nioiit on " Bois Hlanc." The island had alrcad) o-ot its present name, ami was, a luindretl and sixty years a_L;o, as it is ncnv, " nnc Ir'cs-bcllc isle." In 1796. when \'K^x^. Detroit passetl uncUn" Jay's Trt.'aty from I'lni^dand to the United States, the jj^ims and military stores wert.' removetl to a new fort which the I'^nu^lish enj^ineers had hastil\- erecteil, eii^hteen miles Ix'low, at th(; mouth of the ri\er. \ s(]uare plot, sufficient to receive three re-i^dments, was enclosed and de- fended by ditch, stockaiU,', and rampart ; and tin; !)astions at the- four any^lcs were lu'aviK' armed. One face ran |xirallel to the river-bank and was pierced by a sally- port, b'ort Maiden has witnessed excitinj^ and troublous times, but soon its ^rountl plan will bf as ilifficidt to trace as the plans of the mound-builders of tlic ()hio. The slump of the tlajL^-staff is now siU-ntly decayinjj^ in the !^rass-plot of a pri\ate tle- iiicsne, like a maimt'd veteran in a (juiet nook at Chelsea; the stockade ami ditch have disappeared ; the ramparts themselves have melted awa\' into i^entk; slopes of i^reen sward. The untamed wiklness of the ri\'c;r-banks antl islands as the\- were seen b\' (jalinee, Charlevoix, ami Weld, has been succeetled 1)\- a softer landscape' of rare loxcliiU'ss. The screen of white-wood forest, from which Iiois Hlanc took its name, was cut down in the Rebellion of 1S37-S in order to i^ive the L^uns of I""orl Maklen an imrestricteil swtn^p. The river-\iew from .\iidierstljurL;- thus became enlaro;('d and en- richetl, takino- in the beautiful (irosse Isle and the rich woodlands on the farther bank of the Detroit. The town was nametl in commemoration of (ieneral Lord Andierst, Wolfe's Commander-in-Chief in the successful cam|)aiL;ns atrainst Louisbourn' and Ouebec. Ihe new fort was visited in 1797 b\' Isaac Weld, some of whose most interestinj^'- sketches are dated from " Maiden." He came up Lake Erie with a scpiadron of three war-vessels, one of them charged with presents for the Indians. On the first night after his arrival, just as he was retiring to rest, he heard wild plaintive music borne ■in with the midnight wind from the river. Taking a boat for Hois Hlanc, and guided by the light of a camp-fire, he found a ])arty of Indian girls "warbling their native wood-notes wild." A score of young s(juaws had formed a circle round the lire and, each with her hand around another's neck, were keeping time in a kind '32 (U/< I'K rrRh.sori-: LAiAWiiA \im:\.\ki) I'i:i i:i', island. of ininucl to ;i recitative siiiiij;^ 1)\ They were supjjorteil l)\' the deep voices ol lliree iiieii, who, seated under a tree, formed the orchestra tor this clioral dance, and niarketl the lime with rude kettle-chamis. The Iiuhan warriors on the island had heeii foniHM'l)' sc:ttled near the W ahasli, and were of those tribes that six years a^o had cut to pieces the army of ( leiK^ral St. Clair, the L^out)' grandson of tlii' Karl of KossKn. 'Idle retl-men had since l)een tameil l)\- the nimhle deneral W'a^ne, — "Mad Anlhon)," whose redoubt now commands the river below Detroit, — but several Indian families had made o()()d their retreat with St. Clair's spoils, and were thiMi actually encamped under his cainas on iiois lUane. Ihe ('arliest detailed exploration of the Detroit Rivc;r is (lalinee's, in the .S|)ri!i^ of 1670, though we know that Jolliet had in the previous Autumn mapped his wa\' down from the .Sault Ste, Marie to the mouth of the (irand ki\-er. 'I'he mission- aries Galinee and Dolli(!r had been mocked and thwarted by tin- storm\- waters of •^'•^A'////.A'.\- .V/:/,,///;o;, I7-- .1 r"-,')' ■ .♦f... '.>,; r*r" H,:. ,.,^o. A FOREST J-ATHWA i:,4 01 'R /PICTURESQUE C oinnuTci" oftt-n luin^ close!) on the skirts of the Church. Within a decade of l*"ath>'r (iahnee's hoiil with the Maniton, La Salle hail dedicated to idinnierce this frontier chain ol rixcrs as well as tht; two s^reat inland si-as that are joined l)\ these shininj^f links of silver. Ntnirl)' ten years have passed since we saw I. a Salle niakini,^ the first explo- ration of Lake I'rontenac ( ( )ntario), and discoxcrin^' Niaj^ara Ki\t'r ami iUirlinj^ton Ha\-. The younn C anailian, Jollit't, whose romantic interview with La Salle wi- wit- nessed near the (irand River, has since found the Mississippi, ami, in company with the l)ra\(' I'ather Maripiette, has tracetl that mi,i;ht\ llood down to within a couple of tla)s' journey from the mouth. llis ambitious rival, La .Salle, has em- harked on a vast commercial enterprise in which the ( io\ernor-( u'lU'ral, Count I'ron- tenac, is shrewdly believed to ha\i' invested more than a friendl\- interest. The scheme is no k'ss than a monopoly of tlu- fur-traik; ol the continent. Ihe (Ireat Ki\(M' ami \'alU'\' of whose resources Jolliet brought back in ihe Summer of 1*573 such marvellous accounts, will In- re-explored l)\ La SalK; with the aid of jolliet's manuscript re|)orts and maps, and of Maripiette's narrati\c, alter Manpiette is dead, and when I'rontenac has removed poor lolliet to the tlistant ami barren scioiiciii'ic ol Anticosti. Hut the first antl pressiiiLj cpiestion is the fur-trade of the (ireat Lakes. This title of fortuiu' must forthwith l)e dellected from the An^^lo-I )iitch channel of the Hudson to the St. LawrtMice. I'Ort I'rontenac was hastilx' thrown up on the site ol the present Kins^^ston to command the lower outlet of Lake ( )iUario ; the western L;atewa\' was broui^ht under La .Salle's j^uns by the erection of I'Ort NiaL^ara. Ihe lur-trade ol I'.rie and the Lpper Lakes was to be secured b)' the patrol ol an armed trailer. l)Ut La Salle's schemes of inonopoh' had alread)' excited bitter jealousies and had ])lunL;ed him into fmancial I'mbarrassments. [ust as he had put on the stocks the vessel that was to become the pioneer of lake merchantmen, his creditors lai-.l hands upon his store of furs at I'Ort I'rontenac, and the l'"rench Intendant seized the rest at Ouebec. To tlu' Inlendant's share fell 2S4 skunk-skins, whose lati: occupants are in the official inventor\ ^riniK cataloLjued as ''cufivtls dii diablcr After incredible difficulties, and amid the sleepless suspicion and hostilit\' of the Indians, a 45-ton craft was at length completed and launched on the Niagara l\i\er. Slie was named the (irijjiii, after the lion-eat,le at her prow, which had beiMi ile- sii^ned Irom the armorial bearings of Count b'rontenac. On the 7th August, 167Q, La Salle embarked on Lake Lrie, ami with a 7"c Pcudi and salvos of artiller\' the (rritfiit llun_n' her canvas to the breeze. On the i 1 th she entered the Detroit, the pioneer and pilot of that innumerable procession of ships which durinj^ two centu- ries have passed this Strait. I'Oom ^Lay to Decembi-r you may ol)serve all day, and throu!L,di the livelon_t,r niL,dit, the stately march of the merchantmen on these waters, — the soft foot-fall of the sailinLT craft, and in the fore-front of these alarii. the xoA' riir.Rx \/:/(;///u)R • vS Lake I'.ric : linallv, niif iiii^lu, l»\- a stealthy inroad on the poor txhaiislcd Sulpi- liaiis, till' Lake had tihhcd the ahar-scrvicc which was to ha\c (arricd the laith to thf l)anks ol the < )hio. lO the minds of tlicsc earnest, sini|ili'-inind((l mkii it was plain that liie Towers of Darkness wer(! warrinj;' throuj^h the \-er\ ehinents tiieiii- «el\es aj^jainst the advance of the Cross into luiathendoni. The missionaries aseend- ini4 the I )etroit, fonnd near the present I'Ort Wayne a sacred camp-jrround ol thi' red mill. Within a circle of numerous Iodides was a ^reat stone idol which |)ro\cd to he no less a divinity than the Indian Neptune of l.akt' I'.rie- the Manitou that at will could rouse or (piell those perilous waters. The idol was lormed of a rude monolith, to which Indian fanc\ atlrihuted a human liki-ness, the features heins;' helped dui wilh M'rmilion, on the whole, perhaps, a not more artistic- divinit)' than our own forefathers worshijjped within the Hruidical Circle at Stonehent^e. This Inilian Neptune was entreated with sacrifices, with peltries, and with presents of L,fame, to receive; gently the frail canoe. and prosper the red man's xoya^c- oxer the ilan^frous Mrie. The Inxpiois of (ialinee's party urncd the missionary to perform the cus- tomar\ sacrifices to the Manitou. The worthy father had made up his mind that this heathen demon was at the bottom of all those I'",rie disasters. and was even now trying- to slarx'e the missionaries to death. la- kiiii^ an axe, he sirote the idol to fra^ineius ; then lashing his canoes loi^'ether he laid the iors(' across, and paddlino" out if .) the river, he hea\ed Xej)- tune (ixcrlioard in mid-channel, where the vciierahle Manitou of Lake \\y'\v still reposes. — unless some steam-drediL;'e has scuttled him into its mud-box. Curiousl\- enough, the Acr)- day that witnessed this daring' iconoclasm brought abundance of food and a ci-ssation of hardships. Two centuries ai^o \\v. should, ever)- one of us, like ("lalinee, haxc thouL,dit this something more than a coincidence. In earl)- ]'"rench exploraiion the Missioiiar\' irenerall}- outran the Trader, thouc^h kivkksiul; c;ka.xarii;s. 1.36 oc/^ /vcrrA'/iSorB measured tramp of ihe steamers, those lesj^ionaries of commerce. ( )n these deh^hlful breezy banks you an- prone to loiter of a Summer ni^ht, to wateh the movino- h^lits burn with red .incl L^ret'n llres on the water, and to hear tht' rising' wintl " sweep a music out of sheet ami shroud." When these waterwa\s an- locked I)\' the frost, the _i;reat transfer-steamers still pass and repass between llu' shores with a calm intlilTert ence to the chan>j;etl lanilscape. The commander of tln' (//v/////, - tlashiuL; l.a .Salle him- self, — woukl behold with awi: these lexiathans swinj^' into the landiiii:^-, and, taking whole railway-trains upon their backs, swim lit^hth' across tlu' witle channel, cleaxini^, if nei'd be, fiekls of ice, or smiting- ilown the piletl-up masonr) of the frost. lie e\- ploretl this .Strait under .Summer skies. The (/'r////// sailed betwt:eii shores which bather [b'linepin, wrilinL; his journal on deck, ilescribetl as xirj^in prairies, or as natm^al parks frecjuented b\ herds ot c'eer. lie saw clouds of wild turkexs rising,'' h'om llic water's ed^c, and noble wiKl swans feeding;" amons^' the lai^oons. The sportsmen of the part\' hunted alon^' the (ijiffnis acKance, and soon the bulwarks of the briiL^- aiuiue were Iiuiil; with the choicest j^ame. There were iL;ro\('s of walnut, .uid chest- nut, and wild plums; there were statel\- oak-i;"lades with rich i^arniture ol u;rape-\ iiu's. (.hiolh bather lbnnei)in: " Ihose who in the biture will haxc the i^ood fortune to own this fruitful ;uid lovely Strait will feel \ery thankfid to those who have shown them tin; wa\-." Worthy Chaplain of thi- (ir/f/iii. \\\\\\ in bespeaking- i,;rateful remem- brance for th\ hero, hast //lo/i lori^'otlen to recortl that our Canadian, Jolliet, in his birch-bark canoe, map[)ed out thesi' waterways teii \ears a_L;o ? llu' importance of these lake-straits was early recoi^nizetl l)\- brench stalesuie;i. In i6SS Haron La blontan fouml o|)posite Point b^dwartl, ami ni-ar the site of ihi' present bcirl dratiot, a fortified post, -Fort .St. Joseph, which ha^l bi'cn erected some years before t'> command the upper i^atewa\' of the St. Clair. I'luler the express direction of ■ o'nt Pontchartrain a lort was in 1701 erected on tlu; present site of Detroit. The fountler, l.a Mottt; Catlillac, nametl this important post afti-r the .Min- ist(,'r himself, and it i^ecame t^he nucleus, not only of the futiu'e city of Detroit, but of the early settlemiMits all ai jul;- thi' .Straits northward to Lake; Huron aiul southward to Lak(; Erie. Under shelter of Fort Pontchartrain, settlements ^'radiially crej)! alon^ the wati-r's edij^e on both sides of the Detroit. Between 1734 and 1756 the oUl records show that nuinerous land-yi-ants were made. The t'arlier passed imcK'r the hands of jieau- harnois and Iloccpiart; the later patents briny; toi^ether such inconj^nious nami's as the sajracioiis (icucrnor Ducpiesne, — the founder of Pittsbur_t,'^, — and the infamous in- tendant Hiyot. These jrrants were subject to the usual incidents of Canadian feudalism, which re(|uireil of the siioiwur to erect a i^rist-mill for the use of his cciisi/airi's or feudal tenants, aiul to proviik; a fort or block-house for dt.'fence asj^ainst the Indians. 'T(j co\er both necessities windmill-forts were ereclc-d, and the C.madian AYVv' rill'RX XJilClll^OK 137 WINDSOR, FROM DKCK Ol- IkANSIIlk S IKAMK k liank ahovc and hrlow Windsor hccanit; dotted with picturt'sciuc' round-towi'i's. An cxaniplc, — tlioiioh not of the \ t'r\- earlit'st mills. — siir\i\cs near Sandwich : anotluT may he seen on the rixcr-hank ahove Windsor, or rather Walkerville. The har\csts ami millino- operations of pionetM" ila\s ma\' appear conte-niptihle to a generation accustomed to see wheat 1)\" tens of tlionsands of l)ushels ri'ceived and ilischar-cil daily at the railway _<;ranaries on the river-side; indeed a lar^e ele\ator ot ." time woiilcl have housed the iMitire wheatdiarxcst of ( )ntario in the earlier \ears of the centurv. But the rudt'st of mills was an inexpri'ssihle boon to a settler who had heen living on j^rain coarsely hruist'd in the mortar that, after Indian example, with a red-hot stone, he hollowed out ot sonu' hard-wood stimip. In the court- \ards of these old windmills ma\' often, of an Autunui day, ha\e been seen anima- tetl a/>rr the town immediately south ol the Thames has subsisted un- chaiiu;ed for nearly ninet\- \ears. A full stream oi business now (lows through Kin.L; Stre'et, wiiose windings form a picturescpie reminiscence' oi the old ri\i'r-road, and of the ancient Indian trail ihrouL;h the forest. 'I'hc tine a\enue by which we ascenti from the river-siele to the northern ijuartc;r ot the town betra\s in its straight lines another centur\ , and a generation ot rectans^iilar taste. In Simcoe's da\' the Thames was here tifteen to twenty feet deep, ami it was joined at an acute am^K' by a "creek" which, thouL;h no more than thirt\ or forty ivvX wide, was ten or twcKc fei-t in depth. The tract incloseil between the " b'orks " has in our time Ijeeii re- planted with trees, and in pioper remembrance of a bra\-e all\' and a remarkable man, it has been named Tecumsch Park. With mil- itary instinct Simcoe set aside as an ordnance reserve; the penin- CLUH HOUSE, .ST. CLAIR !• LATS. suUi thus moated by nature on ''^^^^v. 146 OUR PICTL'Rh:SQ(jH two sides. In 1794. lie built on the nortli face a block-housc!, and under tlic shadow of its ilJihis Ik; set one Maker, who had worked in the Kiiii^'s sliip-yard at lirooklyn, — to create a lake flotilla. l'"i\(; s^ini-hoats were put immediately on the stocks, hut owiiij;- to llu; (iovernor's withdrawal from Canada Itis scheini's Itll into disorder. Three of Simcoe's ^un-boats were nevc-r e\'en launcheil, but rotted a\va\ unuseil on tiu: stocks. Had that brave old sea-doi;- liarclay had e\-en one such boat wluMi the llatj-ship Ltu^n-ciuc struck her colours to his lire, his j.jana.il opponent Perry wouUl scarcely be just now coverintr Harrison's advance by runnini;- United States nun-boats up to Chatham. .After twent\' years, tin; town had '.^(^\. no farther than a paper plan. .As Harrison's horse came thundering along through the .lisles of Ai.oiNc rill': SI'. ei.AiR ii.ai.s. sugar-maple that Hanked the south bank of the Thames, thes(.' Kentuckians would have been much surprised to learn that they were galloping over what were, officially speaking, houses and churches. Hut it is to be doubted whether this startling thought would have disconcerted them half as much as did the riHe-shots which suddenly rang out from among the trees on the north bank ami on Simcoe's reserve, emptying some" of their saddles. Tecumseh had vainly ri^commended this vantage-ground to Proctor: our remarkable strategist preferred that all his military stores shoukl be captiu'cd at Chatham rather than ventun^ a brush with Harrison's cavalry, of which he had already got some experience in Michigan. No more of Harrison's horse-pla\- for him ; Proctor had lost all taste for such dixersion ; he- was already twenty-six miles u|) the rountr\-, anil had left no instructions. 'i"he gallant Indian Chief, would, for the sake of the Canadians, he had been Commander- in-Chief! — then umlertook, with such poor means as h(^ had at hand, to stop the NORTHERN NEIGfTBOR 147 tide of invasion. Like lloratius in the brave clays of old, he heat l)aik the enemy until the iiridije across the moat could he hewn away. Hut Horatius nt^ver fought a>,fainst six-pounder cannon ; such a balistd would have staj^^^ered iIk; nohlest Roman of them all. The hrid^c was rehmlt, and the tide of invasion rollcnl on. In ascending the Thames two generations a^'o. your hoal would not ha\i' hcen much eml)arrassed hy hrid^cs. l-ntil 1S16 tiiere was no means of crossing the main channel even at Chatham. The tine iron structure that now spans the ri\-er some ten miles farther u|), would \xa\(\ seeim;d to Dolson, to Clarke the milK'r, and to the other pioneers on the hank a far !:;r('ater marxcl than the llani^dnsj;' (lardeiis of Mah\Ion. Soon alter passiiii^ the sit(; of the future Kt;nt MridL;c we should have- touched the western skirts of tlu; 1-on^' Woods, -a parkdike forest stretchint^" un- hroken for fort\ miles \\y the Thames, and covering' i()0,ooo acres. i5ridle-palhs through it there were mail)', hut carriaL;(; or waijon roads there were none. The present village of Thamesxille marks the west('rn etlt^e of this romantic wilderness, and the xiUa^'e of I )elaware la\' on its eastern skirts. In the \cr\- heart of it was a solitary hut cheerful inn kept h\' a quaint okl sold, who provided in his hotel register a column tor the ad\cntures of his i^uests in the I.ouil;- Woods. Ills name, either intentionalK' or accident.illy, is embalmed in /^'(?/vA :'///(■. This vast solitude was rareh' broken except l)\' Indian'^. Ihey came to tish at nij^ditfall with torch and spear on the Thames ; or, launching;" their tire-rafts on autumn nights, the\- would linht u[) in wild relief the river-banks and the ilark archways of the forest, while the (gentle deer, startled from their sleep and fascinated hy the lij^ht. would draw within raiiL;'!' of the Indian ritle. Moravian missioiKUMes settk'd in this wilderness in 1702, and the Indian not seldom i^ratted on the lessons of the Moravians his own wild-wood fancies. llowison spent the Christmas-Xiuhl of iSig at the hostelry in the Loul;' Wootls, and hail an interesting- atK'enture : -" When it was midni<^dit I walked out and strolleil in the wooils contii;iious to the house. A glorious moon had now ascemleil to the summit of the arch of heaven and poured a perpeiulicular tlooil of liL;ht upon the silent worKl below. The starry hosts sparkled brightly wlum they emerjj^ed above the horizon, hut L^radualh' faded into twinkling points as thev rose in the skv. The motionless tre(,'s stretched their majestic houghs towanls a cloiKftess t'irmament ; and tlie rustling of a witheri'tl leaf, or the ilistant howl of the wolf, alone broke upon my ear. I was sucKlenlv roused from a delicious reverie hy observing a ilark object moving slowl\ and i:autiousl\- among the trees. .At first I fancieil it was a hear, but a nearer ins|jection ilisco\-ereil an Indian on all fours. I"or a moment 1 felt unwilling to throw nnsclf in his wa\'. lest he should be meditating some sinister design against me : however, on his wa\ ing his hand and putting his finger on his lips. I approached him, and notwithstamling has injunction to sil(!nce, iiupiiri'd wiuit he did there. ' .Me watch to see the deer kneel,' replied 14S (UK /vr/Y AVf.SVjr/:- ;i^xva\5k . IKOM SAKMA TO l.AKK IIIKO.N. .\r)A' /•///:' A'.\' X/'/Cff/U^R 140 he : ' This is Christinas-Nijjjht, and all the deer fall on iIkmi- knees to the Gr(;at Spirit, anil look up.' The solemnity of llu: si:(Mie, and tin; ifranilnir of the idea, alike contributed to fill nie with awe. It was afftictintf to liml traces of the Chris- tian faith existinjLj in such a place, even in the form of such a tradition." A \\\\l\\ plain, \vf)0(lcd with white oak, lay luar the north hank of the river between the present rh.uncsvilK; and Hothwell. .Vrrivin^; here in Ma\', 1792, four Moravians estal)lishcd an outpost in the Cnnadian wiKls, as, str\'enty years before, tlu; "Watch of the Lord " had bicn (established amon^j Count Zinzendorf's oaks on tlu: llutbern'. .Simcoc was hospitably entertained at the Mission while he was explorinjLj the Thames in i "q.V l'<" l)ecam(.' much interested in the si'cular aspect of the en- lcri)rise and th<' effort to lead the aborigines to a_Lrricultural pursuits, A few months later, he reserved for these Moravian Indians a plot of more than lifty thousand acres, occupyinjr both sides of tlur Thames and formin<^ the old township of ()rforil in the now extinct county of Suffolk. It was a picturestpie inciik'iU for the iiuro|)ean to find jrrowinn up under the shelter of a Canadian forest the anti(]ue usaj^'es of the ninth century and of the Byzantine Christian Church : -the social separation into "choirs" accortlinOR 1 =^I sure of till' secret, and a search undertaken. Owin^ to the excit<'nient ot the huhans the search was leniporai'iK' ihscontinned ; and when it was ri'sunieil, l)()nes and weapons weri- found which certain!)' were not recuinseh's, l)ut are h\ nian\' hehexfd to ha\e been si)ecially sulistituted for the chietlain's. So tin- niysler\ remains as he- fore, and on Tecuinsiih's cenotaph may be inscrilx^d tlu; words spoken of the ,nicient hiwtd\(;r, " No man knoweth of his si-pulchre unto this (hi\." .SV. C'ia/'r. Lake and Kivcr, should, according to l,a Salle's intention, he spelled Sitiiiff t/(i/ri\ With his pioneer merchantman, the (in'/jiji. La Salle entered the Lakt' on the twelfth ot .August, lOjc). It was the da\', as I'"ather lieiinepin would doubt- less remind him. dedicated to .Sancta Clara, -in I'rench, Sainte ("laire, to her who was once the loveU' Clara d'.Xssisi, antl who afterwards became Abbess of San Damiano and the foundress ot the ()rder of the Looi- Cl.U'es. .She died in iJ5,v anil the b'stixal is kept on the anniversary of her burial. Hut when Canada ]iasseil oxer to i'",iiL;land, a general debilitx' overtook the old I'rench names in the West, and the\' cIuul;' for support to the nearest JMiolish word, whatever it mi^ht sionif\-. Xow it happened that .S'/. Clair became, in the middle of the last century, a lamiliar name in .Ameriu' through Sir John .St. Clair, Ih'aildock's ileput\- quartermaster-general; and then, towards the vx\(\ of the centur), Cieiieral Arthur .St. Clair held the command against the Indians in the West. The name of the lake and ri\er would naturalK be associated with these military otticers 1)\ the first two venerations of I'.ni^lish pio- neers in Canada. This contusion became utter disorder when the form Siiulair River received othcial sanction from .Surve)or-CJeneral .Snnth's (.iazcttccr of I'ppcr C '(!// very existence of his race. lie- (htl not (h-eani liow desperate; a game he was about to phiv. lie hourly (lattered himself with the futile hope; of aid from brance, and liioui^hl in his ii,morance that the British Colonie-s must i;iv(.' way before the rush of his savajjfc war- riors ; when, in truth, all the combined tribes of the forest nu'i^ht have chafed in \aiii rajre aijainst th(; rockdike strt-ny^th of the Any^lo-Saxon. l.ookint; across an interveniuL; arm of the river, I'ontiac could see on its eastern bank the numerous lodges of his Ottawa tribesmen, half hidden amoni;- the ragged growth of trees and bushes." It was within the narrow compass of this meditati\-e IK: a la Peche that i'on- tiac planned his surprise of lh(; extended chain of frontier garrisons in 1763. The tu'st attacked was the most remote.; — th;.- fort that guartknl the gateway from Lake- Huron into Lake Michigan. On the fourth of Junt; the Ojibways with t.'ffusive lovalty assembled arounil I'Ort Michillimackinac to celebrate the birthda\ of their (ireat leather. King Oeorge. Mark the grim irony of that touch! The main fea- ture of the occasion was to be a grand game ol la-crosse. — or bai^a^atlaway as the Ojibways named it. — played with the Sacs for a high wager. Once or twice, through some unusual awkwardness in the play(;rs. the ball was swung over the ])ickets of the fort, and the players in their eagerness all rushed pi-ll-mell to lintl th(; ball, and then out again to resume the game. Major Ktherington, the com- mandant, had bi't on the Ojibways. and was as intent as any on the s[)orl. Once more the ball rose high in the air ami fell within the fort. This time the eager players in their rush towards the .i^'^ite suddenh- drop|)ed their la-crosse sticks and snatched tomahawks from squaws who stood ready with the weapons IxMieath their blankets. The massacre of the sur|)rised garrison was the work of an instant, for four hundred armed Inilians were now within the; inclosurc; ! An atlventurous fur- trader, Alexander Henry, witnessed the tragedy froii a window overlooking the fort, .uui .after a series of thrilling dangers, escaped, and livetl to become the historian of these events. Through the kindness of his grand-daughter, who resides In Toronto, we have consulted for the purposes of our narrative Henri's own copy of his famous Travels and . IdrciUiirts. Within fifteen days from the striking of thi' first blow in the north ten lorts had fallen before Pontiac's strateg)'. (^ne important garrison, howv-ver, still held out, — that at Detroit. The lo\-e of a prett\ Indian girl for Major ("dadwyn had betrayed the plans of the great cons|)irator : and though Pontiac might diaw an inexperienced othcer into .a fatal and)uscade, the war\- commandant would withstand 'ven a twelve months' belcaguermcnl, .uul throw into hopeless chaos Pontiac's ( Dnspiracy. In the s|)ring of iSsj. the genius of Mrs. Stouc made oiu' western frontier 154 och' /'/C7'('h'/-'S( )(■/■: KKI l.NKKN . tailliiUS lo ,lll the witi'M as the as\liini ol n'lum'c shut-s. No passai^cs in /'/////'.< Cabin ar;' mori- painlullv cNciliiiL; than those (lcscril)in^ the tli^lit nl l{li/a ami her cliiKl ; v\v\-\ reader Iccls a sense of profound relief when they L;ain L'anadian soil. An act of the Imperial Parliament, passed in iS", ;, abolished sla\'er\ in 'vs^&,.';v.,r I -.tgjf' ( .\KKNI\(, 1111. Ull,. .\7 V\' riii-:K.\* x ma 1 1 in )r ^":> ^,^jH3 Oil, TANKS. HL' thf Colonics, l)iit Siiiuoc's I'aniu'r'^' ^^"^--^ ^ I'arliainciU at Xiai^ara anli(i|iatctl 'i:^^- li\' li>rty Will's l)ii\ti>ii and ihr l'",iiian(i|iati(iii Act of I'.ii^laiul, ami ( larrisoii's .\iUi-Sla\ fr\- Socic'l\- in the Initccl Stales. In I iipcr L'anada sla\ci'\ was aliolislu-d as carl)' as 179^1, by ^iii Act to /'rrr,!// the l-'iirtlur I uti-odiut ion of Slavos, ainl to Limit tlio Term of Lou traits for Soriflmto xoitliiii tliis /'niriiirc. This most rcmarkaMi: measure was Iramed 1)\- tile .Solicitor-* icncr.il, Kohcrt (irav, who rciinscntcd the bounties of Slormniit and Russell. Onr Sunda\- cxcnin^" in 1X04, the .Solicitor-* Icncral cmharkt'd at Toronto on the schooner Sf,it/v. to attend the Newcastle cinuit ; hut an ()ctolper j^ale siid- denl\' rising', the schooner missed her harhour and disa[)|)eared. l{\er\' |)ort on the Lake was in vain searched tor tidings, and at leneth all hope was ahandoned, 156 OCR PICT('RHSOrF Gray's will was (ipcnccl, and it was found that the caiisp of the slave had lain \t'ry n(;ar his heart. lie t^axc his hhuk scr\ants, Simon and John, their freedom, and bestowed on eacii a sum of money and two iuimlred acres of land. I5ut Simon had already been manumitteil b\- a mit^htier hand, aiul lu; was now past all fear of want. H(' wa.s lyin^j near his beloved master at the bottom of the Lake. John lived to defend his freedom at Luinly's Lane, and to draw a pension for tlftj-seven years afterwards as some compensation for his wounds. Refiiijjee slaves reached Canada always in the _L,'reatest tlestitution, and often utterly exhaustetl by their desperate race for fr(;edom. Private benevolence and charitable organization found here a wide field for effort. Little colonies were formed of fuijitivt.'s in the alluvial tract occupicxl l)\- the Counties of Kent and l"'ssex. In i84;in, appropriated from the Crown lands as a refugee settlement, and the management was vested in the Llgin Association. '\\\v. active spirit in the movement was th(; Rev. William King, who had liberated his own slaves in Louisiana, and secured their freedom by removing them to Canada in 1848. His colony rapidly grew in numbers, and became known as the Buxton Settlement, — taking its name from the English philanthropist, Sir Thomas Fowell Huxton. Another colony of escaped slaves was formed on the confines of the Counties of Kent and Lambton. Here the founder and patriarch was no less famous a personage than i^nclc Tom himself, or his other si;lf, the Rev. Josiah Henson. Aunt Ckloe died many years ago ; but Uncle Toyti n-ached the great age of ninety-four, anil died at Dresden X'illage in >La>', 1883. At the outlets of the .St. Clair and Sydenham Rivers the grountl lies low, and is subject to inundation. An area of some forty scjuare miles, — known as th(; St. Clair Flats, — is occupied by lagoons antl river-islands, forming the paradise of wild duck and the eljsium of the sportsman. Two tracts, actpiired untler a ten years' lease from the Government of Canatla, are held as close preserves by a company, which maintains a Club-House for thc^ entertainment of the shareholders and their gue^ Within and be\ond tlu; preserves, after the 14th of August, the crack of the -sliot-gun is incessant!)- heard throughout the marshes. The F'ast Hranch of the Sydenham would K.-ad us up to Sirathro\-, a ])rosp('rous manufacturing town of Middlesex, on the highwav of commerce l)(.'twe(,'n London and Sarnia. The Xorlli Ib'anch takes us into tlic heart of Lambton, a rich champaign, dotted over with cosn- \ill,igcs. Threading our wa\' tiirough gro\es of tlerricks, we reach in I'^nniskillcn the heart of Fetroleuni-Land. This township, in 1S60, became famous through th<' discovery of a llowing well, the first in Canada. !))• some dark alchemy the marine animals and plants eml)edded in tlu' shah's and (Micrinal limestone forming the i)ase of the "Hamilton" series, have distilled out the complex mixture NOR TIfRRX XRIGlfnOR :)/ (if things that we gatlujr ii|) in tiic siiii^rjc word. Pclrolciiiii. Crude oil is now drawn rhiclly from the wells around I'etrolca, Oil Springs, ami Oil City, and wafted, — with a very considerable whiff, -to the refineries in Petrolea and London. There tht; "Crude" is decanted from tank-carts into a \'ast subterranean rotunda of boiler-plate. ,ind tlu! sand and water subside to tlu,- bottom. \\\ treatment with acid and alkali, "sweetness" is divorced troni "light." Distillation at carefully regulated temperatures yields a series of valuable products, — rhigolene, naphtha, kerosene, lubricating t)il. etc. Heavy Canailian petroleums are rich in paraftine ; the snowy whiteness of this beautiful substance contrasts strongly with the black, garlicky lluid from which it is I'xtracteil. A deep channel has been carrieil by the Governmt'iit of the I'nited States through the St. Clair I'lals We are here flanked on eith(.T side by dikes, and th(.' great steamer spins its \\\\\ over s[)()ts where La Salhi's 45-lon craft would have grounded. Yonder white-oak forest on W'alpole Island, with the Indians encamped in its glades, is a fading reminiscence of the landscape that La Salh; beheld. Now a "magnificent water-wa\'," as batluM- CharU;\oix rightly called it, opens out befort^ us. While we climb the River St. Clair, a merr)- ripple of laught(;r pla\s around our bows. The current ever increases as we ascend ; and at Point Edward it reaches the velocit\ of a ra|)id. Indeed, in pioneer days, the Canadian side of this gateway into Lake Huron was known as The Rixpiih. Here a tract was set off, in 1S29, by Sir John Colborne (Lord Seaton), and, as a compliment to the LieulcMiant-Governor's recent administration of Guernsi^y, the township was calU-d Sarnia. H)' this name the later Romans knew the C'hannc] Island which, in our day, has become illustrious as the scene of Victor Hugo's exile-; as the; cradle of Lcs Afisi'ra/f/is, as the home of /.cs Travailleurs dr la Mcr. To the Toilers of our Inland Seas, — storm\- Mer Douce, and the others, — Sarnia forms a natural harb(jur of refuge. Our Canadian bank of the St. Clair here sweeps back into a dee|) cur\e, forming a nobh; bay with safe anchorage. The approach to the town from the water is verv animated. Grain vessels are discharging at the great elevator; steamcM's art; lading for i'ort Huron and Detroit; the United /{n/fy/rr has lust rc^turned honu; from Prince Arthur's Lamling ; Grand Trunk trains are labouring towards Point Ldward, anxious io cast their burthen on tlu; back of tlu; great lirry-boat. Tlu; river front is lined with substantial slrui'tures. — churclu;s, hotels, Mocks of stores aiul ofhci;s. In the vista are other church spiriis; for Sarnia tem[)i'rs lis comnu^rcial ambition aiul manufacturing ardour with a secret [jride in its churches, rile geographical atlvantages of Sarnia are inestimable : Nature has indi;t;d been kind Id the place. i=;s rVA" /'/("/'( R /-sol 7-: * :*' A iKuui' I'ooi. ON 1111. SAL i;i;i;N. .\VV/ /•///: A'. \- \i:i(,llln)R •59 FROM rOROX TO TO LAKK HURON. '111! oKl lliiroii iract. ■rlri( t, " and siri)sc(|iicntl\' dixitlcd into llic connt i<'s ol rf-i'lh. I I nron. and ISrucc, has Ixi-n M-tllcd m) n-('cnll\- liial llic oldest iidialiilanl, lull of llic folk-lore ol the Im'sI seiilers, is to lie found in c'\-cr\' distrii-t. ( '.odericli. trontin'^ tile mi;^lit\' lake, was its lirsl (anital; hut while ( loderieh, with all the ad\anla'/es ot water coinniunication, will i6o OCR PirrrRi':s(}ri': probably remain a town, Stratlord, lorly-six miles inlaiul, has, thanks to railways, attained to the i)r<)|)()rti()iis of a cit\-. Less than half a rentur\- a^o the a hole of this ma^niliciMil north-western section of the jjcninsnla of Ontario, now rt-joicinjLj in thousands of homesteads, tilled with the bounties of a xeritable promised land, was covered with dense forest, the silence of whosi; solitudes was broken onl)' by the l)ark of the wolf. So short was the time needetl to conxi-rt the forist into the fruitful held. Ilow much Ic'ss time shall elapse before the lonel)' prairies of our North-west have become teeming' Provinces I |ohn (iait ami 1 )r. nimloj), to whom we referred when describing- the birth of (~luelph, founded Cjoderich and Stratford also. That Canaila Company, which, with its n^ai million and otld acres of land and its p.ominal million of sterling money, seemed to our fathers so overshadowing;; a monopoly, but which in our days of Syndicates seems a small affair, owned the wlujle lluron lUock or Tract. Should the founders and capatalists of tlu; Company s^et credit for beini,; the necessary mitUllemen who coloni/ed the unbroken forest, or should they be ik'nounced as land-_q'rabl)ers who bought chea[) from the (io\ eminent and sold dear to the emitjrant ? It is not for us, whose vocation is to sc-ek out such i)ictures([ue bits as the trout-pools of the Saui^een, one of which our artist has faithfull)' sketched, to pronounce jutlonient. Hut certain it is that the Company securtnl a i^dorious tract ; " the height of land " of Western ()ntario, whence^ streams Ilow south to Lakes ICrie and St. Clair, west to the fresh- water sea of lluron, and north through the (-scarpment that extends from Niagara across country all the way to the Lantl's l^nd at Cabot's 1 lead ; a country whose belts anti fringes ol ^jlorious maple, beach, ash and cathedral elms, still towerini;- up every here and there, r(!\(!al the character of the forest primeval, and the character of the soil which now rewards the labours of tb.e husbandman with "butter of kine ami milk of shee[), and the fat of kidneys of wheat." Some men like, and others dislike. Colonization Companies; but all men will join in the |)rayer that, if the Companies must be, the\' ma)' have managers like John Gait. He did his tluty. .More concernin<;" him we wvv(\ not say; but a brief account ol his first inspei-tion ot the lluron tract and of th<; be^^inniuiL^s of (ioderich comes litly in at this |)oint. Me arranged that \^\\ Dunlop should start from (ialt with surveyors and oth(;rs, and cut his wa\- throuL^di the forest to the mitj;-ht\- lluron, while he himself went round by Lake Simcoe to I'enelani^uisluMie, to "embark there in a naval vessel anil exploHi that [)art of the coast of Lake lluron. berween Cabot's lleatl on the north, and the riv(.'r ;Aux .Sables on the south, in order to discover, if possible, a harbour." \t l*eiH;tan,L,Miishene he found that the ;\dmiralt\-, with that curious geo_i,n-aphical knowledge which still occasionally distinguishes it, had given orders that His Majesty's gunboat, the lht\ shoukl go with him to "Lake lluron in Lotocr Canatla." He says, "We bore awaj- for Cabot's llead, with the sight of which 1 was agreeabh' NORniJSRX N HI an BO K 16 1 disappointed, haxiiii; IcariK'd soincthiiiL,'- i)f its allci^cd stormy fratiircs, and cxpcctcHl to see a lolty promontory; Init the descriptions wi'ri- mmli cxai^^^craled ; we saw only a wood}' stretch ol land, not \'er\' lofl\', U'in!:^ calm in the sunshine of a still after- noon, and instead of dark clouds and lurid lii^rlitnin^s, IxheM only heaul) and calm. Ila\iiii; douliled this '(iood i lope ' of the lakes, we then kept close alon^ shore, examiniiiL; .dl the coast with cire, hut we could discover onl\ the months ol incousitl- er.il)!e streams, and no imleniaiion that to our inspection appeareil suitable lor a harltoiM". "In the .ilternoon of the foUowin;^ da\-, we saw alar oil 1)\' our telescope a small cleariuL; in the lorest, and on the hrow of a risin;^ ground a cotta:,;c deli^lulully situated. Ihe appearance of such a slight in such a pku'c was unexpi'cted, and we had some debate; if it coidd he the location ol 1 )r. 1 )uidop, who hatl L;uided the land- e\[)lorin^ |)arty alread) ,dlude oiR /'/(•/• r N /-: SO ('/-: liiiDIUU II. il.i' k - asli tlv- ni;iL;ni- ion ' on the m;iL;inati()ii, It \il occasioned sonic ])ainliil tui^s to ^J<^ -'■■■fW .-' . ... ■ ''^^- ^' li\iiiianlt\-. One iiioimiiiil' npw.anls ol fort\ ot tin men came in alllicled with the a^iie ; the\' \V(r<' of the cohnir of mnmmies, and liv har(lshi[)s fri^htfiilK- emaciated." "S'et wlien ("lalt asked the l)irectors for a (h)clor, no attention was [laid to th(> re(|uesl I I', it, dillicnhies nolw ithstaiuhnL;, the road, such as it was, strii!_;L;"led into Ix'iiiL; ; and \\\ iSj;j, a jiosi ran onci- a loi'tnii^lit lietwceii Cicxh'rich and (luelph. Mid\va\' was .Stratford, so intemled li\ nature for a centre, that it was a town on paper in tlie COmpanx's ollices lu-loi-e a house was Imilt on the Axon or the sur\-e)- of the Huron road was coinnu'iiced I >r. I )uidop ,!_;a\e instructions, Ix'fore slartin;^'' on his oxcrkind journey to meet (lall at the mouth of the Mciieselum^-, that one of tlie three taverns, for which the Coinpar.)' ollered bonuses, sliouKl he huilt at .Stratford, and l)e the lia'f-wa_\- liouse hetween the settle- ments and Lake Huron. His instructions were not carried out, hut in i S ', i one W'ilham .Serjeant was prescMitetl \)\ the COmpaiu witli a h)t in thi; proposed t(»wn, on condition of his startiii!^'- a tax'ern there. Thus Stratford came into lieiiiL;. In 1853, it h(!cam(; an incorporated \illai,''e, and it is now tlu; chief town of the county ol I'erth. \\'lieth{!r or not the ("ompaiu' intentU'd the naim; of th(; town ami the river as a rom|)liment to .Shakespeare is not known, l)ut certain!)- the citizens are j)rf)ii(l of tile name, ami the jilace is all compact of the yreat poet. The five .VOA' rill-'.RX MiK.mu Vv' ^(n municipal wards art; rcspectivcU' entitled Sliakt.'spearc, Avon, llaniKl, konicn. and l''alstalf, and an inM liplion dct lares that the liiinidallon siom- f Shakespeare's liirlh." Stratford is situated at the junclion ol lixe townships, and is the centre; of a hcautifull)' rolling and fertih' countrx. l'i( Ids waxin^^ with golden L;rain, and riih, ileep-j;reei) pastures on which tloc ks and hern. in a direction nearh' east, the opposite side rises 1)\ terraces to an elevation ol about lilt\' feet, on the highest point of which, fr