Books: Life in Canada Fifty Years Ago

C >> Canniff Haight >> Life in Canada Fifty Years Ago

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The people of to-day will no doubt smile at these reminiscences of a
past age, and think lightly of the life surroundings of these early
pioneers of the Province. But it must not be forgotten that their
condition of life was that of the first remove from the bush and the log
cabin. There was abundance, without luxury, and it was so widely
different from the struggle of earlier years that the people were
contented and happy. "No people on earth," says Mr. Talbot, in 1823,
"live better than the Canadians, so far as eating and drinking justify
the use of the expression, for they may be truly said to fare
sumptuously every day. Their breakfast not unfrequently consists of
twelve or fourteen different ingredients, which are of the most
heterogeneous nature. Green tea and fried pork, honeycomb and salted
salmon, pound cake and pickled cucumbers, stewed chickens and apple-
tarts, maple molasses and pease-pudding, gingerbread and sour-crout, are
to be found at almost every table. The dinner differs not at all from
the breakfast, and the afternoon repast, which they term supper, is
equally substantial."

The condition of the Province in 1830 could not be otherwise than pre-
eminently satisfactory to its inhabitants. That a people who had been
driven from their homes, in most cases destitute of the common needs of
ordinary life, should have come into a vast wilderness, and, in the
course of forty-six years, have founded a country, and placed themselves
in circumstances of comfort and independence, seems to me to be one of
the marvels of the century. The struggles and trials of the first
settlers must ever be a subject of deepest interest to every true
Canadian, and, as an illustration of the power of fixed principles upon
the action of men, there are few things in the world's history that
surpass it. It must be remembered that many, nay most, of the families
who came here had, prior to and during the Revolutionary war, been men
of means and position. All these advantages they were forced to abandon.
They came into this country with empty hands, accepted the liberality of
the British Government for two years, and went to work. Providence
smiled upon their toils, and in the year of which I speak they had grown
into a prosperous and happy people.

The social aspect of things had changed but little. The habits and
customs of early days still remained. The position of the inhabitants
was one of exigency. The absorbing desire to succeed kept them at home.
They knew but little of what was passing in the world outside, and as a
general thing they cared less. Their chief interest was centred in the
common welfare, and each contributed his or her share of intelligence
and sagacity to further any plans that were calculated to promote the
general good. Every day called for some new expedient in which the
comfort or advantage of the whole was concerned, for there were no
positions save those accorded to worth and intellect. The sufferings or
misfortunes of a neighbour, as well as his enjoyments, were participated
in by all. Knowledge and ability were respectfully looked up to, yet
those who possessed these seemed hardly conscious of their gifts. The
frequent occasions which called for the exercise of the mind, sharpened
sagacity, and gave strength to character. Avarice and vanity were
confined to narrow limits. Of money there was little. Dress was coarse
and plain, and was not subject to the whims or caprices of fashion. The
girls, from the examples set them by their mothers, were industrious and
constantly employed. Pride of birth was unknown, and the affections
flourished fair and vigorously, unchecked by the thorns and brambles
with which our minds are cursed in the advanced stage of refinement of
the present day.

The secret of their success, if there was any secret in it, was the
economy, industry and moderate wants of every member of the household.
The clothing and living were the outcome of the farm. Most of the
ordinary implements and requirements for both were procured at home. The
neighbouring blacksmith made the axes, logging-chains and tools. He
ironed the waggons and sleighs, and received his pay from the cellar and
barn. Almost every farmer had his work-bench and carpenter's tools,
which he could handle to advantage, as well as a shoemaker's bench; and
during the long evenings of the fall and winter would devote some of his
time to mending boots or repairing harness. Sometimes the old log-house
was turned into a blacksmith shop. This was the case with the first home
of my grandfather, and his seven sons could turn their hands to any
trade, and do pretty good work. If the men's clothes were not made by a
member of the household, they were made in the house by a sewing girl,
or a roving tailor, and the boots and shoes were made by cobblers of the
same itinerant stripe. Many of the productions of the farm were
unsaleable, owing to the want of large towns for a market. Trade, such
as then existed, was carried on mostly by a system of barter. The refuse
apples from the orchard were turned into cider and vinegar for the
table. The skins of the cattle, calves and sheep that were slaughtered
for the wants of the family, were taken to the tanners, who dressed
them, and returned half of each hide. The currency of the day was flour,
pork and potash. The first two were in demand for the lumbermen's
shanties, and the last went to Montreal for export. The ashes from the
house and the log-heaps were either leached at home, and the lye boiled
down in the large potash kettles--of which almost every farmer had one
or two--and converted into potash, or became a perquisite of the wife,
and were carried to the ashery, where they were exchanged for crockery
or something for the house. Wood, save the large oak and pine timber,
was valueless, and was cut down and burned to get it out of the way.

I am enabled to give a list of prices current at that time of a number
of things, from a domestic account-book, and an auction sale of my
grandfather's personal estate, after his death in 1829. The term in use
for an auction then was vendue.

1830 1880

A good horse $80.00 $120.00
Yoke of oxen 75.00 100.00
Milch cow 16.00 30.00
A hog 2.00 5.00
A sheep 2.00 5.00
Hay, per ton 7.00 12.00
Pork, per bbl. 15.00 12.00
Flour, per cwt. 3.00 3.00
Beef, " 3.50 6.00
Mutton, " 3.00 6.00
Turkeys, each 1.50
Ducks, per pair 1.00
Geese, each .80
Chickens, per pair .40
Wheat, per bushel 1.00 1.08
Rye, " .70 .85
Barley, " .50 1.00
Peas, " .40 .70
Oats, " .37 .36
Potatoes," .40 .35
Apples, " .50 .50
Butter, per pound .14 .25
Cheese, " .17
Lard, " .05 .12
Eggs, per dozen .10 .25
Wood, per cord 1.00 5.00
Calf skins, each 1.00
Sheep skins, each 1.00
West India molasses .80 .50
Tea, per pound .80 .60
Tobacco .25 .50
Honey .10 .25
Oysters, per quart .80 .40
Men's strong boots, per pair 3.00
Port wine, per gallon .80 2.75
Brandy, " 1.50 4.00
Rum, " 1.00 3.00
Whisky, " .40 1.40
Grey cotton, per yard .14 .10
Calico, " .20 .12
Nails, per pound .14 .04

Vegetables were unsaleable, and so were many other things for which the
farmer now finds a ready market. The wages paid to a man were from eight
to ten dollars, and a girl from two to three dollars, per month. For a
day's work, except in harvest time, from fifty to seventy-five cents was
the ordinary rate. Money was reckoned by L. s. d. Halifax currency, to
distinguish it from the pound sterling. The former was equal to $4.00,
and the latter, as now, to $4.87.

Clocks were not common. It is true in most of the better class of old
homes a stately old time-piece, whose face nearly reached the ceiling,
stood in the hall or sitting-room, and measured off the hours with slow
and steady beat. But the most common time-piece was a line cut in the
floor, and when the sun touched his meridian height his rays were cast
along this mark through a crack in the door; and thus the hour of noon
was made known. A few years later the irrepressible Yankee invaded the
country with his wooden clocks, and supplied the want. My father bought
one which is still in existence (though I think it has got past keeping
time), and paid ten pounds for it; a better one can be had now for as
many shillings.

The kitchen door, which, as I have already mentioned, was very often
divided in the middle, so that the upper part could be opened and the
lower half kept closed, was the general entrance to the house, and was
usually provided with a wooden latch, which was lifted from the outside
by a leather string put through the door. At night, when the family
retired, the string was pulled in and the door was fastened against any
one from the outside. From this originated the saying that a friend
would always find the string on the latch.

Carriages were not kept, for the simple reason that the farmer seldom
had occasion to use them. He rarely went from home, and when he did he
mounted his horse or drove in his lumber-waggon to market or to meeting.
He usually had one or two waggon-chairs, as they were called, which
would hold two persons very comfortably. These were put in the waggon
and a buffalo skin thrown over them, and then the vehicle was equipped
for the Sunday drive. There was a light waggon kept for the old people
to drive about in, the box of which rested on the axles. The seat,
however, was secured to wooden springs, which made it somewhat more
comfortable to ride in. A specimen of this kind of carriage was shown by
the York Pioneers at the Industrial Exhibition in this city. I have a
clear recollection of the most common carriage kept in those days, and
of my first ride in one. I was so delighted that I have never forgotten
it. One Saturday afternoon, my father and mother determined to visit
Grandfather C---, some six miles distant. We were made ready--that is
to say, my sister and self--and the "yoke" was put to. Our carriage had
but two wheels, the most fashionable mode then, and no steel springs;
neither was the body hung upon straps. There was no cover to the seat,
which was unique in its way, and original in its get-up. Neither was
there a well-padded cushion to sit on, or a back to recline against. It
was nothing more or less than a limber board placed across from one side
of the box to the other. My father took his seat on the right, the place
invariably accorded to the driver--we did not keep a coachman then--my
mother and sister, the latter being an infant, sat on the opposite side,
while I was wedged in the middle to keep me from tumbling out. My father
held in his hand a long slender whip (commonly called a "gad") of blue
beech, with which he touched the off-side animal, and said, "Haw Buck,
gee 'long." The "yoke" obeyed, and brought us safely to our journey's
end in the course of time. Many and many a pleasant ride have I had
since in far more sumptuous vehicles, but none of them has left such a
distinct and pleasing recollection.

The houses were almost invariably inclosed with a picket or board fence,
with a small yard in front. Shade and ornamental trees were not in much
repute. All around lay the "boundless contiguity of shade;" but it
awakened no poetic sentiment. To them it had been a standing menace,
which had cost the expenditure of their best energies, year after year,
to push further and further back. The time had not come for ornamenting
their grounds and fields with shrubs and trees, unless they could
minister to their comfort in a more substantial way. The gardens were
generally well supplied with currant and gooseberry bushes. Pear, plum
and cherry trees, as well as the orchard itself, were close at hand.
Raspberries and strawberries were abundant in every new clearing. The
sap-bush furnished the sugar and maple molasses. So that most of the
requisites for good living were within easy hail.

The first concern of a thrifty farmer was to possess a large barn, with
out-houses or sheds attached for his hay and straw, and for the
protection of his stock during the cold and stormy weather of fall and
winter. Lumber cost him nothing, save the labour of getting it out.
There was, therefore, but little to prevent him from having plenty of
room in which to house his crops, and as the process of threshing was
slow it necessitated more space than is required now. The granary, pig-
pen and corncrib were usually separate. The number and extent of
buildings on a flourishing homestead, inclosed with strong board fences,
covered a wide area, but the barns, with their enormous peaked roofs,
and the houses, with their dormer windows looking out from their steep
sides, have nearly all disappeared, or have been transformed into more
modern shape.

It would be difficult to find much resemblance between the well-ordered
house of the thriving farmer of to-day and that of half a century ago:
In the first place the house itself is designed with an eye to
convenience and comfort. There is more or less architectural taste
displayed in its external appearance. It is kept carefully painted. The
yawning fireplace in the kitchen, with its row of pots, has disappeared,
and in its place the most approved cooking-stove or range, with its
multifarious appendages, is found. On the walls hang numberless
appliances to aid in cooking. Washing-machines, wringers, improved
churns, and many other labour saving arrangements render the task of the
house-wife comparatively easy, and enable her to accomplish much more
work in a shorter time than the dear old grandmother ever dreamed of in
the highest flights of her imagination. Her cupboards are filled with
china and earthenware of the latest pattern. Pewter plates and buck-
handled knives have vanished, and ivory-handled cutlery has taken their
places. Britannia metal and pewter spoons have been sent to the melting-
pot, and iron forks have given place to nickel and silver ones. The old
furniture has found its way to the garret, and the house is furnished
from the ware-rooms of the best makers. Fancy carpets cover the floor of
every room. The old high-posted bedsteads, which almost required a
ladder to get into, went to the lumber heap long ago, and low, sumptuous
couches take their places. The great feather tick has been converted
into the more healthy mattress, and the straw tick and cords have been
replaced by spring bottoms. It used to be quite an arduous undertaking,
I remember, to put up one of those old beds. One person took a wrench,
kept for that purpose, and drew up the cord with it as tight as he could
at every hole, and another followed with a hammer and pin, which was
driven into the hole through which the end passed to hold it; and so you
went on round the bed, until the cord was all drawn as tight as it could
possibly be. Now a bedstead can be taken down and put up in a few
moments by one person with the greatest ease. The dresses of both mother
and daughters are made according to the latest styles, and of the best
material. The family ride in their carriage, with fine horses, and
richly-plated harness. The boys are sent to college, and the girls are
polished in city boarding-schools. On the farm the change is no less
marked. The grain is cut and bound with reaping machines, the grass with
mowing machines, and raked with horse rakes. Threshing machines thresh
and clean the grain. The farmer has machines for planting and sowing.
The hoe is laid aside, and his corn and root crops are kept clean with
cultivators. His ploughs and drags do better work with more ease to
himself and his team. He has discovered that he can keep improved stock
at less expense, and at far greater profit. In fact, the whole system of
farming and farm labour has advanced with the same rapid strides that
everything else has done; and now one man can accomplish more in the
same time, and do it better, than half a dozen could fifty years ago.

Musical instruments were almost unknown except by name. A stray fiddler,
as I have said elsewhere, was about the only musician that ever
delighted the ear of young or old in those days. I do not know that
there was a piano in the Province. If there were any their number was so
small that they could have been counted on the fingers of one hand. Now,
every house in the land with any pretension to the ordinary comforts of
life has either a piano or a melodeon, and every farmer's daughter of
any position can run over the keys with as much ease and effect as a
city belle. Passing along one of our streets not long since, I heard
some one playing in a room adjoining a little grocery store. My
attention was arrested by the skill of the player, and the fine tone of
the instrument. While I was listening, a couple of ladies passed, one of
whom said, "I do wonder if they have got a piano here." "Why not," said
the other, "the pea-nut-man on ---- Street has one, and I don't see why
every one else shouldn't have."

I think all who have marked the changes that have taken place during the
half century which is gone, will admit that we are a much faster people
than our fathers were. We have jumped from change to change with
marvellous rapidity. We could never endure the patient plodding way they
travelled, nor the toil and privation they went through; and it is a
good thing for us, perhaps, that they preceded us. Would it not be well
for us occasionally to step aside from the bustle and haste which
surrounds us, and look back. There are many valuable lessons to be
gathered from the pages of the past, and it might be well, perhaps, were
we to temper our anxiety to rise in the social scale with some of the
sterling qualities that characterized our progenitors. Our smart boys
now-a-days are far too clever to pursue the paths which their fathers
trod, and in too many cases begin the career of life as second or third-
rate professional men or merchants, while our daughters are too
frequently turned into ornaments for the parlour. We know that fifty
years ago the boys had to work early and late. West of England
broadcloths and fine French fabrics were things that rarely, indeed,
adorned their persons. Fashionable tailors and young gentlemen,
according to the present acceptation of the term, are comparatively
modern institutions in Canada. Fancy for a moment one of our young
swells, with his fashionable suit, gold watch, chain, and rings, patent
leather boots and kid gloves, and topped off with Christie's latest
headgear, driving up to grandfather's door in a covered buggy and plated
harness, fifty years ago! What would have been said, think you? My
impression is that his astonishment would have been too great to find
expression. The old man, no doubt, would have scratched his head in
utter bewilderment, and the old lady would have pushed up her specs in
order to take in the whole of the new revelation, and possibly might
have exclaimed, "Did you ever see the beat?" The girls, I have no doubt,
would have responded to their mother's ejaculation; and the boys, if at
hand, would have laughed outright.

My remarks, so far, have been confined altogether to the country
settlements, and fifty years ago that was about all there was in this
Province. Kingston was, in fact, the only town. The other places, which
have far outstripped it since, were only commencing, as we shall see
presently. Kingston was a place of considerable importance, owing to its
being a garrison town; and its position at the foot of lake navigation
gave promise of future greatness. The difference between town and
country life as yet was not very marked, except with the few officers
and officials. Clothes of finer and more expensive materials were worn,
and a little more polish and refinement were noticeable. The
professional man's office was in his house, and the merchant lived over
his store. He dealt in all kinds of goods, and served his customers
early and late. He bartered with the people for their produce, and
weighed up the butter and counted out the eggs, for which he paid in
groceries and dry goods. Now he has his house on a fashionable street,
or a villa in the vicinity of the city, and is driven to his counting
house in his carriage. His father, and himself, perhaps, in his boyhood,
toiled in the summer time under a burning sun, and now he and his family
take their vacation during hot weather at fashionable watering places,
or make a tour in Europe.

We have but little to complain of as a people. Our progress during the
last fifty years has been such as cannot but be gratifying to every
Canadian, and if we are only true to ourselves and the great principles
that underlie real and permanent success, we should go on building up a
yet greater and more substantial prosperity, as the avenues of trade
which are being opened up from time to time become available. But let us
guard against the enervating influences which are too apt to follow
increase of wealth. The desire to rise in the social scale is one that
finds a response in every breast; but it often happens that, as we
ascend, habits and tastes are formed that are at variance not only with
our own well-being, but with the well-being of those who may be
influenced by us. One of the principal objects, it would seem, in making
a fortune in these days, is to make a show. There are not many families
in this Province, so far, fortunately, whose children can afford to lead
a life of idleness. Indeed, if the truth must be told, the richest heir
in our land cannot afford it. Still, when children are born with silver
spoons in their mouths, the necessity to work is removed, and it
requires some impulse to work when there is no actual need. But,
fortunately, there are higher motives in this world than a life of
inglorious ease. Wealth can give much, but it cannot make a man in the
proper and higher sense, any more than iron can be transmuted into gold.
It is a sad thing, I think, to find many of our wealthy farmers bringing
up their children with the idea that a farmer is not as respectable as a
counter-jumper in a city or village store, or that the kitchen is too
trying for the delicate organization of the daughter, and that her
vocation is to adorn the drawing-room, to be waited on by mamma, and to
make a brilliant match.

CHAPTER V.

JEFFERSON'S DEFINITION OF "LIBERTY"--HOW IT WAS ACTED UPON--THE CANADIAN
RENAISSANCE--BURNING POLITICAL QUESTIONS IN CANADA HALF A CENTURY AGO--
LOCOMOTION--MRS. JAMESON ON CANADIAN STAGE COACHES--BATTEAUX AND DURHAM
BOATS.

The American Revolution developed two striking pictures of the
inconsistency of human nature. The author of the Declaration of
Independence lays down at the very first this axiom: "We hold this truth
to be self-evident, that all men are created _equal_; that among
these, are life, _liberty_, and the pursuit of happiness." And yet
this man, with members of others who signed the famous document, was a
slave-holder, and contributed to the maintenance of a system which was a
reproach and a stain upon the fair fame of the land, until it was wiped
out with the blood of tens of thousands of its sons. The next picture
that stands out in open contradiction to the declaration of equality of
birth and liberty of action appears at the end of every war. The very
men who had clamoured against oppression, and had fought for and won
their freedom, in turn became the most intolerant oppressors. The men
who had differed from them, and had adhered to the cause of the mother
land, had their property confiscated, and were expelled from the
country. Revolutions have ever been marked by cruelty. Liberty in France
inaugurated the guillotine. The fathers of the American Revolution cast
out their kindred, who found a refuge in the wilderness of Canada, where
they endured for a time the most severe privations and hardships. This
was the first illustration or definition of "liberty and the pursuit of
happiness," from an American point of view.

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