Books: Life in Canada Fifty Years Ago

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Early days are always bright to life's voyager, and whatever his
condition may have been at the outset, he is ever wont to look back with
fondness to the scenes of his youth. I can recall days of toil under a
burning sun, but they were cheerful days, nevertheless. There was always
"a bright spot in the future" to look forward to, which moved the arm
and lightened the task. Youth is buoyant, and if its feet run in the way
of obedience, it will leave a sweet fragrance behind, which will never
lose its flavour. The days I worked in the harvest field, or when I
followed the plough, whistling and singing through the hours, are not
the least happy recollections of the past. The merry song of the girls,
mingling with the hum of the spinning-wheel, as they tripped backward
and forward to the cadence of their music, drawing out miles of thread,
reeling it into skeins which the weaver's loom and shuttle was to turn
into thick heavy cloth; or old grandmother treading away at her little
wheel, making it buzz as she drew out the delicate fibres of flax, and
let it run up the spindle a fine and evenly twisted thread, with which
to sew our garments, or to make our linen; and mother, busy as a bee,
thinking of us all, and never wearying in her endeavours to add to our
comfort--these are pictures that stand out, clear and distinct, and are
often reverted to with pleasure and delight. But though summer time in
the country is bright and beautiful with its broad meadows waving before
the western wind like seas of green, and the yellow corn, gleaming in
the field where the sun-burnt reapers are singing; though the flowers
shed their fragrance, and the breeze sighs softly through the branches
overhead in monotones, but slightly varied, yet sweet and soothing;
though the wood is made vocal with the song of birds, and all nature is
jocund and bright--notwithstanding, all this, the winter, strange as it
may seem, was the time of our greatest enjoyment. Winter, when "Old
Gray," who used to scamper with me astride his bare back down the lane,
stood munching his fodder in the stall; when the cattle, no longer
lolling or browsing in the peaceful shade, moved around the barn-yard
with humped backs, shaking their heads at the cold north wind; when the
trees were stripped of their foliage, and the icicles hung in fantastic
rows along the naked branches, glittering like jewels in the sunshine,
or rattling in the northern blast; when the ground was covered deep with
snow, and the wind "driving o'er the fields," whirled into huge drifts,
blocking up the doors and paths and roads; when

"The whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden's end;"

when the frost silvered over the window-panes, or crept through the
cracks and holes, and fringed them with its delicate fret-work; when the
storm raged and howled without, and

"Shook beams and rafters as it passed!"

Within, happy faces were gathered around the blazing logs in the old
fire-place.

"Shut in from all the world without,
We sat the clean-winged hearth about,
Content to let the north wind roar,
In baffled rage at pane and door,
While the red logs before us beat
The frost line back with tropic heat."

The supper has been cleared away, and upon the clean white table is
placed a large dish of apples and a pitcher of cider. On either end
stands a tallow candle in a bright brass candlestick, with an
extinguisher attached to each, and the indispensable snuffers and tray.
Sometimes the fingers are made use of in the place of the snuffers; but
it is not always satisfactory to the snuffer, as he sometimes burns
himself, and hastens to snap his fingers to get rid of the burning wick.
One of the candles is appropriated by father, who is quietly reading his
paper; for we had newspapers then, though they would not compare very
favourably with those of to-day, and we got them only once a week.
Mother is darning socks. Grandmother is making the knitting needles fly,
as though all her grandchildren were stockingless. The girls are sewing
and making merry with the boys, and we are deeply engaged with our
lessons, or what is more likely, playing fox and geese.

"What matters how the night behaved;
What matter how the north-wind raved;
Blow high, blow low, not all its snow
Could quench our ruddy hearth-fire's glow.

* * * * *

O time and change! with hair as gray
As was my sire's that winter day,
How strange it seems, with so much gone
Of life and love, to still live on!

Ah brother! only I and thou
Are left of all the circle now--
The dear home faces whereupon
The fitful fire-light paled and shone,
Henceforth, listen as we will,
The voices of that hearth are still."

CHAPTER IV

THE EARLY SETTLERS IN UPPER CANADA--PROSPERITY, NATIONAL AND INDIVIDUAL
--THE OLD HOMES, WITHOUT AND WITHIN--CANDLE-MAKING--SUPERSTITIONS AND
OMENS--THE DEATH-WATCH--OLD ALMANACS--BEES--THE DIVINING ROD--THE U. E.
LOYALISTS--THEIR SUFFERINGS AND HEROISM--AN OLD AND A NEW PRICE LIST--
PRIMITIVE HOROLOGES--A JAUNT IN ONE OF THE CONVENTIONAL "CARRIAGES" OF
OLDEN TIMES--THEN AND NOW--A NOTE OF WARNING.

The settlement of Ontario, known up to the time of Confederation as the
Province of Upper Canada, or Canada West, began in 1784, so that at the
date I purpose to make a brief survey of the condition and progress of
the country, it had been settled forty-six years. During those years--no
insignificant period in a single life, but very small indeed in the
history of a country--the advance in national prosperity and in the
various items that go to make life pleasant and happy had been
marvellous. The muscular arm of the sturdy pioneer had hewn its way into
the primeval forest, and turned the gloomy wilderness into fruitful
fields.

It is well known that the first settlers located along the shores of the
River St. Lawrence, the Bay of Quinte, Lake Ontario, and Lake Erie, and
that, at the time of which I speak, this coastline of a few hundred
miles, extending back but a very short distance--a long narrow strip cut
from the serried edge of the boundless woods--comprised the settlement
of Canada West as it then existed. Persistent hard work had placed the
majority in circumstances of more than ordinary comfort. Good houses had
taken the place of log cabins, and substantial frame barns that of rude
hovels. Hard fare and scanty raiment had given place to an abundance of
the necessaries of life, and no people, perhaps, ever appreciated these
blessings with more sincere thankfulness or more hearty contentment. The
farmer was a strong, hardy man, the wife a ruddy, cheerful body, careful
of the comforts of her household. One table sufficed for themselves and
their servants or hired help. Meat was provided twice and often thrice a
day; it being more a matter of taste than economy as to the number of
times it was served. Fruit was abundant, and every matron prided herself
upon preserving and putting away quantities of it for home use. So that
at this time the world was moving smoothly with the people. An immense
track of wilderness had been reclaimed, and waving fields and fruitful
orchards occupied its place. It may have seemed to them, and indeed I
think it did to many, that the sum of all they could expect or even
desire in this world had been attained; while we, who remember those
days, and look back over the changes of fifty years, wonder how they
managed to endure life at all.

It is true that the father, more from the force of habit than necessity,
perhaps continued to toil in the field, and the mother, moved by the
same cause, and by her maternal anxiety for the well-being of her
family, still spent many a long hour at the loom. The son, brought up to
work, followed the plough, or did battle with the axe, making the woods
ring with his rapid strokes. And as he laboured he pictured to himself
the building of a nest in the unbroken forest behind the homestead,
wherein the girl of his choice figured as the central charm. The
daughter who toiled through the long summer's day to the monotonous hum
of the spinning wheel, drawing out and twisting the threads that should
enter into the make-up of her wedding outfit, was contented and happy.
The time and circumstances in which they were placed presented nothing
better, and in their estimation the world had little more to offer than
they already possessed.

It is more than probable that if we, with our modern notions and habits,
could to-day be carried back into a similar condition of life, we would
feel that our lines had fallen in anything but pleasant places. The
flying years, with their changes and anxieties, like the constant
dripping of water on a stone, have worn off the rough edges that wounded
and worried during their progress, and only the sunny spots, burned in
the plastic memory of younger days, remain.

The old homes, as I remember them in those days, were thought palatial
in their proportions and conveniences, and so they were as compared with
the old log houses. The latter often still remained as relics of other
days, but they had been converted into the base use of a cow stable, or
a shelter for waggons and farm implements during the winter. Their
successors were, with very few exceptions, wooden structures, clap-
boarded, and painted either yellow or red. The majority, however, never
received any touching up from the painter's brush, and as the years
rolled on became rusty and gray from the beating of winter's storms and
the heat of summer's sun. The interior rarely displayed any skill in
arrangement or design. The living rooms were generally of goodly size,
with low ceilings, but the sleeping rooms were invariably small, with
barely room enough for a large high-posted bedstead, and a space to
undress in. The exterior was void of any architectural embellishment,
with a steep roof pierced by dormer windows. The kitchen, which always
seemed to me like an after-thought, was a much lower part of the
structure, welded on one end or the other of the main body of the house,
and usually had a roof projecting some distance over one side, forming
"the stoop." In very many cases, the entrance to the spacious cellar,
where the roots, apples, cider, and other needs of the household were
kept, was from this through a trap door, so that in summer or winter the
good wife had actually to go out of doors when anything was required for
the table, and that was very often. It really seemed as though the old
saying of "the longest way round is the shortest way home" entered not
only into the laying out of highways, but into all the domestic
arrangements. Economy of time and space, convenience, or anything to
facilitate or lighten labour, does not appear to have occupied the
thoughts of the people. Work was the normal condition of their being,
and, as we see it now, everything seems to have been so arranged as to
preclude the possibility of any idle moments. At the end of the kitchen
was invariably a large fire-place, with its wide, gaping mouth, an iron
crane, with a row of pothooks of various lengths, from which to suspend
the pots over the fire, and on the hearth a strong pair of andirons,
flanked by a substantial pair of tongs and a shovel. During the winter,
when the large back-log, often as much as two men could handle, was
brought in and fixed in its place, and a good forestick put on the
andirons, with well-split maple piled upon it and set ablaze with dry
pine and chips, the old fire-place became aglow with cheerful fire, and
dispensed its heat through the room. But in extremely cold weather it
sometimes happened that while one side was being roasted the other was
pinched with cold. At one side of the fire-place there was usually a
large oven, which, when required, was heated by burning dry wood in it,
and then the dough was put into tin pans and pushed in to be baked.
Sometimes the ovens were built on frames in the yard, and then in wind
or storm the baking had to be carried out doors and in. Every kitchen
had one or more spacious cupboards; whatever need there was for other
conveniences, these were always provided, and were well filled. The
other rooms of the house were generally warmed by large box stoves. The
spare bedrooms were invariably cold, and on a severe night it was like
undressing out of doors and jumping into a snowbank. I have many a time
shivered for half an hour before my body could generate heat enough to
make me comfortable. The furniture made no pretensions to artistic
design or elegance. It was plain and strong, and bore unmistakable
evidence of having originated either at the carpenter's bench or at the
hands of some member of the family, in odd spells of leisure on rainy
days. Necessity is axiomatically said to be the mother of invention, and
as there were no furniture makers with any artistic skill or taste in
the country, and as the inclination of the people ran more in the
direction of the useful than the ornamental, most of the domestic needs
were of home manufacture. I have a clear recollection of the pine
tables, with their strong square legs tapering to the floor, and of how
carefully they were scrubbed. Table covers were seldom used, and only
when there was company, and then the cherry table with its folding
leaves was brought out, and the pure white linen cloth, most likely the
production of the good wife's own hands, was carefully spread upon it.
Then came the crockery. Who can ever forget the blue-edged plates, cups
and saucers, and other dishes whereon indigo storks and mandarins, or
something approaching a representation of them, glided airily over sky-
blue hills in their pious way from one indigo pagoda to another. These
things I have no doubt, would be rare prizes to Ceramic lovers of the
present day. The cutlery and silver consisted mostly of bone-handled
knives and iron forks, and iron and pewter spoons. On looking over an
old inventory of my grandfather's personal effects not long since, I
came upon these items: "two pair of spoon moulds," and I remembered
melting pewter and making spoons with these moulds when I was very
young. Cooking was done in the oven, and over the kitchen fire, and the
utensils were a dinner pot, teakettle, frying-pan and skillet. There
were no cooking stoves. The only washing machines were the ordinary wash
tubs, soft soap, and the brawny arms and hands of the girls; and the
only wringers were the strong wrists and firm grip that could give a
vigorous twist to what passed through the hands. Water was drawn from
the wells with a bucket fastened to a long slender pole attached to a
sweep suspended to a crotch. Butter, as has already been intimated, was
made in upright churns, and many an hour have I stood, with mother's
apron pinned around me to keep my clothes from getting spattered,
pounding at the stubborn cream, when every minute seemed an hour,
thinking the butter would never come. When evening set in, we were wont
to draw around the cheerful fire on the hearth, or perhaps up to the
kitchen table, and read and work by the dim light of "tallow dips,"
placed in tin candlesticks, or, on extra occasions, in brass or silver
ones, with their snuffers, trays and extinguishers. Now, we sit by the
brilliant light of the coal oil lamp or of gas. Then, coal oil was in
the far-off future, and there was not a gas jet in Canada, if indeed in
America. The making of tallow candles, before moulds were used, was a
slow and tiresome task. Small sticks were used, about two feet long,
upon each of which six cotton wicks, made for the purpose, were placed
about two inches apart, each wick being from ten to twelve inches long.
A large kettle was next partly filled with hot water, upon which melted
tallow was poured. Then, two sticks were taken in the right hand, and
the wick slowly dipped up and down through the melted tallow. This
process was continued until the candles had attained sufficient size,
when they were put aside to harden, and then taken off the sticks and
put away. It required considerable practical experience to make a smooth
candle which would burn evenly; and a sputtering candle was an
abomination. The cloth with which the male members of the family were
clad, as well as the flannel that made the dresses and underclothing for
both, was carded, spun, and often woven at home, as was also the flax
that made the linen. There were no sewing or knitting machines, save the
deft hands that plied the needle. Carpets were seldom seen. The floors
of the spare rooms, as they were called, were painted almost invariably
with yellow ochre paint, and the kitchen floor was kept clean and white
with the file, and sanded. The old chairs, which, in point of comfort,
modern times have in no way improved upon, were also of home make, with
thin round legs and splint-bottomed seats, or, what was more common, elm
bark evenly cut and plaited. Many a time have I gone to the woods in the
spring, when the willow catkins in the swamp and along the side of the
creek turned from silver to gold, and when the clusters of linwort
nodded above the purple-green leaves in the April wind, and taken the
bark in long strips from the elm trees to reseat the dilapidated chairs.

If the labour-saving appliances were so scanty indoors, they were not
more numerous outside. The farmer's implements were rude and rough. The
wooden plough, with its wrought-iron share, had not disappeared, but
ploughs with cast-iron mould-boards, land-sides and shares, were rapidly
coming into use. These had hard-wood beams, and a short single handle
with which to guide them. They were clumsy, awkward things to work with,
as I remember full well, and though an improvement, it was impossible to
do nice work with them. Indeed, that part of the question did not
receive much consideration, the principal object being to get the ground
turned over. They were called patent ploughs. Drags were either tree
tops or square wooden frames with iron teeth. The scythe for hay and the
cradle for grain, with strong backs and muscular arms to swing them,
were the only mowers and reapers known. The hand rake had not been
superseded by the horse rake, nor the hoe by the cultivator; and all
through the winter, the regular thump, thump of the flails on the barn
floor could be heard, or the trampling out of the grain by the horses'
feet. The rattle of the fanning mill announced the finishing of the
task. Threshing machines and cleaners were yet to come.

It will be seen from what I have said that both in the house and out of
it work was a stern and exacting master, whose demands were incessant,
satisfied only by the utmost diligence. It was simply by this that so
much was accomplished. It is true there were other incentives that gave
force to the wills and nerves to the arms which enabled our forefathers
to overcome the numberless arduous tasks that demanded attention daily
throughout the year. All the inventions that have accumulated so rapidly
for the last twenty years or more, to lighten the burden and facilitate
the accomplishment of labour and production, as well as to promote the
comfort of all classes, were unknown fifty years ago. Indeed many of the
things that seem so simple and uninteresting to us now, as I shall have
occasion to show further on, were then hidden in the future. Take for
example the very common and indispensable article, the lucifer match, to
the absence of which allusion has already been made. Its simple method
of producing fire had never entered the imagination of our most gifted
sires. The only way known to them was the primitive one of rubbing two
sticks together and producing fire by friction--a somewhat tedious
process--or with a flint, a heavy jackknife, and a bit of punk, a
fungous growth, the best of which for this purpose is obtained from the
beech. Gun flints were most generally used. One of these was placed on a
bit of dry punk, and held firmly in the left hand, while the back of the
closed blade of the knife thus brought into contact with the flint by a
quick downward stroke of the right hand produced a shower of sparks,
some of which, falling on the punk, would ignite; and thus a fire was
produced. In the winter, if the fire went out, there were, as I have
already stated, but two alternatives--either the flint and steel, or a
run to a neighbour's house for live coals.

There were many superstitious notions current among the people in those
days. Many an omen both for good and evil was sincerely believed in,
which even yet in quiet places finds a lodgement where the schoolmaster
has not been much abroad. But the half century that has passed away has
seen the last of many a foolish notion. A belief in omens was not
confined to the poor and ignorant, for brave men have been known to
tremble at seeing a winding-sheet in a candle, and learned men to gather
their little ones around them, fearing that one would be snatched away,
because a dog outside took a fancy to howl at the moon. And who has not
heard the remark when a sudden shiver came over one; that an enemy was
then walking over the spot which would be his grave? Or who has not
noticed the alarm occasioned by the death watch--the noise, resembling
the ticking of a watch, made by a harmless little insect in the wall--or
the saying that if thirteen sit down to table, one is sure to die within
a year? Somebody has said there is one case when he believed this omen
to be true, and that is when thirteen sit down to dinner and there is
only enough for twelve. There was no end to bad omens. It was bad luck
to see the new moon for the first time over the left shoulder, but if
seen over the right it was the reverse. It is well known that the moon
has been supposed to exercise considerable influence over our planet,
among the chief of which are the tides, and it was believed also to have
a great deal to do with much smaller matters. There are few who have not
seen on the first page of an almanac the curious picture representing a
nude man with exposed bowels, and surrounded with the zodiacal signs.
This was always found in the old almanacs, and indeed they would be
altogether unsaleable without it and the weather forecast. How often
have I seen the almanac consulted as to whether it was going to be fair
or stormy, cold or hot; how often seen the mother studying the pictures
when she wished to wean her babe. If she found the change of the moon
occurred when the sign was in Aries or Gemini or Taurus, all of which
were supposed to exercise a baneful influence on any part of the body
above the heart, she would defer the matter until a change came, when
the sign would be in Virgo or Libra, considering it extremely dangerous
to undertake the operation in the former case. The wife was not alone in
this, for the husband waited for a certain time in the moon to sow his
peas--that is, if he wished to ensure a good crop. He also thought it
unlucky to kill hogs in the wane of the moon, because the pork would
shrink and waste in the boiling. The finding of an old horseshoe was a
sure sign of good luck, and it was quite common to see one nailed up
over the door. It is said that the late Horace Greeley always kept a
rusty one over the door of his sanctum. To begin anything on Friday was
sure to end badly. I had an esteemed friend, the late sheriff of the
county of ----, who faithfully believed this, and adhered to it up to
the time of his death. May was considered an unlucky month to marry in,
and when I was thinking of this matter a number of years later, and
wished the event to occur during the month, my wish was objected to on
this ground, and the ceremony deferred until June in consequence.

It is said that the honey bee came to America with the Pilgrim Fathers.
Whether this be so or not I am unprepared to say. If it be true, then
there were loyalists among them, for they found their way to Canada with
the U. E.'s, and contributed very considerably to the enjoyment of the
table. Short-cake and honey were things not to be despised in those
days, I remember. There was a curious custom that prevailed of blowing
horns and pounding tin pans to keep the bees from going away when
swarming. The custom is an Old Country one, I fancy. The reader will
remember that Dickens, in "Little Dorrit," makes Ferdinand Barnacle say:
"You really have no idea how the human bees will swarm to the beating of
any old tin kettle."

Another peculiar notion prevailed with respect to discovering the proper
place to dig wells. There were certain persons, I do not remember what
they were called, whether water doctors or water witches, who professed
to be able, with the aid of a small hazel crotched twig, which was held
firmly in both hands with the crotch inverted, to tell where a well
should be sunk with a certainty of finding water. The process was simply
to walk about with the twig thus held, and when the right place was
reached, the forked twig would turn downwards, however firmly held; and
on the strength of this, digging would be commenced in the place
indicated. A curious feature about this was that there were but very few
in whose hands the experiment would work, and hence the water discoverer
was a person of some repute. I never myself witnessed the performance,
but it was of common occurrence. [Footnote: The reader will remember the
occult operations of Dousterswivel in the seventeenth chapter of Scott's
_Antiquary._ "In truth, the German was now got to a little copse-
thicket at some distance from the ruins, where he affected busily to
search for such a wand as should suit the purpose of his mystery; and
after cutting off a small twig of hazel terminating in a forked end,
which he pronounced to possess the virtue proper for the experiment that
he was about to exhibit, holding the forked ends of the wand each
between the finger and the thumb, and thus keeping the rod upright, he
proceeded to pace the ruined aisles," &c. So it will be seen that we had
Canadian successors of Dousterswivel in my time, but we had no
Oldbucks.]

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