A LONG TIME AGO – 7 October 1887

By JOHN RAY, PELHAM

PELHAM, Sept., 1887

Friend Editor Tribune:

             I have been a subscriber to your paper since its first publication at Fonthill. How often it has changed its name I do not remember. I have once in a while sent in a short article for publication, and now, in my eighty-second year, undertake to do so again, by giving some reminiscences of travel from England to Canada and the U.S. in the year 1828, or fifty-nine years ago, which will show the change things have taken since that time, as to accommodation and time occupied in travel, and other improvements.

             In 1827, when twenty-one years of age, and when my bat covered my family, and being dependent upon my own exertions for a living and anything more I might possess in this world, I decided to try my fortune in Canada, and in the spring of 1828 I left the city of York for the seaport town of Hull, where several ships were advertised to sail for Quebec, in the lumber trade. I took a passage in the bark Ellergill, 400 tons burden, paid £4, had to board ourselves; might cook at the ship’s galley, a little shanty about 5×6 feet. Our company consisted of twenty-one passengers, women and children, three Leicester sheep, and one yellow dog, which was a nuisance. He was kept chained upon our cargo of sand, which we had for ballast, and kept up a dreadful howling nights. The sand we pitched into the St. Lawrence river when we got there. We had on board an old gentleman about 65 years of age. He had married an old lady about the same age just before embarking. They were spending their honeymoon during the voyage. The old man had married her for what she had, which was chiefly her household furniture which was sold and the proceeds required to pay passage. I boarded with them and had a great sympathy for the old woman, believing she had been grossly imposed upon. Their berth and mine were separated by the hanging up of a sheet. The old lady had begun to realize the imposition that had been imposed upon her, and one night undertook to hold a bed of justice with him. She said, “You don’t love me,” when the old villain (as he afterwards proved) made a sort of a move and said,” My dear, I love you as dear as my own life.” It was hard work for me to refrain from telling him he lied, although he was very religious and used to pray with us and exhort us, when we got to Canada where liquor was cheap, to be careful not to give away to drinking. Arriving at Quebec on the Saturday night we could not pass the customs house until Monday; the ship laid at anchor in the river, but Capt. Corbet, a kind-hearted fellow, let a boat take most of us men ashore to go to church. We attended the Methodist church in the morning and saloons the rest of the day, and the old man, Fawcett, set us the example of getting very drunk, and we had quite a time in the evening in getting him into the boat to take back to the ship. He lost his plug hat into the river and it went down with the tide. And here I will leave Mr. Fawcett and his bride, but may take them up again as their history afterwards is of a romantic and interesting character, particularly that of Mrs. Fawcett. On Monday we passed the customs house and a steamer came alongside of us and took off passengers and baggage, also passengers and baggage of two other ships, one Scotch and one Irish, and brought us up to Montreal. But having got a little ahead of my story I must go back. We left Hull on 12^th April, had reasonably fine weather. When on the banks of Newfoundland we were becalmed, and the captain gave us leave to fish, and having some large hooks and line, baited with a piece of fat pork and sunk with an old ax head. Caught some 15 or 20 large codfish which was divided amongst the ship’s company, and on the 10^th of May, about 9 p.m., when sailing about four miles an hour, we ran into a large field of ice-ice as far as the eye could reach-which made the old ship tremble. We were in our berths and my old friend Fawcett, who had crossed the Atlantic twice before, called out, “We are upon rocks,” and I believed him that time and jumped up to see what chance there was for escape, when a young man (a passenger) was coming down the hatchway. I asked what it is, and he said ice. He afterwards told me he was coming down to get his money out of his chest. I was quickly upon deck and helped to pull the ropes and back the sails, and in four hours we were again clear of the ice, and in six more days arrived at Quebec on the 17^th of May, after a passage of five weeks.

             I will now go back to the boat for Montreal. I said we had English, Irish and Scotch on board-such a scene I had not seen before or since; it will not bear description and suffice to say drunkenness and immorality prevailed that night. Arrived at Montreal, I, George Chapman, a Lincolnshire farmer, and his little boy, eleven years old, pursued our journey together. From Montreal to Prescott we took what they called a Durham boat, which was shoved along with poles near the shore, except at the rapids, we were towed by oxen-I think where the Lachine canal now is. We used to leave the boat in the forenoon and walk, getting our board on shore, and take the boat at night- slow mode of travel. From Prescott to Brockville, 12 miles, we undertook to walk, leaving our baggage at Prescott. We should have kept on what is called the river road-in some places it was difficult to tell which was the main road-and we got into the woods, which dark was far from silent; tree toads, frogs and screaming things we did not know what they were, until three in the morning, when we saw lights and made for them. They were log beaps burning. We then found a log house and asked to stay until daylight; answer “No.” We asked for a drink of water. “There’s a well, draw for yourselves.” “No bucket,” the man gave us a nod and shut the door. We arrived in Brockville about 9 on Sunday morning, On Monday I hired to Wm. Ayres, a storekeeper and hat manufacturer; and Chapman hired to a Dutch farmer, 4 miles from Brockville. My business was to take care of a horse and cow, and general workman. My first day ws employed in house cleaning, blacking stove, taking apart bedsteads and killing bed bugs, which were numerous and the first I had seen of that species of insect. There were three Irish servant girls, all as lively as crickets. When night came and I was sitting in the kitchen, one of the girls opened a big box or bunk and stirred up some straw. I thought she was making up a bed for a large Newfoundland dog there was, when she told me that was my berth; she had put on a rug or two. I began to feel indignant, and to think I had left home and civilization. She said: “You can go to bed, John, when you please.” As I had all my life been accustomed to take off my clothes going to bed, I did not feel like departing from that rule even under these circumstances; so I deliberately took off all my clothes, except shirt, and walked across the kitchen floor to my bunk, the three girls all there, one setting sponge, another ironing linen, and Kitty making a pan of gruel for a sick daughter. About ten o’clock the girls began to undress at the end of the kitchen, they jumped in like rabbits, and we all passed the night without molestation. I might give a further description of this place and it novelties, as much is yet clear to my recollection. On the evening of my second day I told Mr. Ayres I thought I should not suit him and had better leave. He thought differently, as Mrs. Ayres had given me an excellent character for proficiency in house cleaning. I left, and went to see my friend Chapman. He said he got along very well with the Dutchman and the work, but some parts of the board surpassed his skill. He would come to Brockville that night, which he and his boy did, and next day we took the steamboat for Little York (Now Toronto). The boat laid to at Kingston all night and next day landed us at Little York, which then had but few sidewalks and no paved or macadamized streets. There was a market place, a garrison for soldiers, and plenty of tavern accommodation. We went to John Montgomery’s tavern on Young street, and as our dress showed our nationality (knee breeches), we were easily recognized as Englishmen, and as many of the settlers at that time were from that country, we were often spoken to and met with considerable kindness. One man coming in with a load of lumber, offered to take us 12 miles up the street when his horses were fed, which he did.

             While waiting in the tavern at York, a tall, plain dressed Quaker came in. He was on his way home from Philadelphia, where he had been attending their yearly meeting-on horseback all the way from his home near Newmarket, 28 miles north of Toronto, to Philadelphia and return, which it had taken him six weeks to accomplish. I liked the appearance of the old gentleman, and although somewhat bashful made free to introduce myself to him, and having satisfied him that I was as represented, he very kindly invited me to make his house my home until I should meet with a situation. We were now 12 miles north of York, and next morning set out to attend a Methodist camp meeting which had been held in the woods for nearly two weeks. The roads were muddy. We had gone about two miles when I said: Chapman, this is out of our line of business; better go back. He thought we might hire to some of the meeting folk. My arguments won, and we returned. Chapman hired to an Englishman (a farmer) and I proceeded 16 miles further up the street to my Quaker friends near Newmarket. The tavern keeper where I stopped that night offered me twelve dollars a month. In the morning I called upon my Quaker friend; they entertained me kindly and although he had a nice young man working his farm on some kind of share, he said he would give me eight dollars a month for three months. I said: Gamble, the tavern keeper had offered me $12. He said his $8 was better. I wanted to know how $8 was better than $12. He said I would get the $8 but at the tavern I should likely have to spend half, and it was doubtful my getting the other half. I saw into it and accepted his offer, and for doing which I never regretted. I was treated with kindness, was comfortable, and remained there four months, and got my wages in full-a great improvement on the bug and bunk business in Brockville.

Welland Tribune

7 October 1887