From the moment when the news of the fall of Louisburg reached England, the eyes of the entire nation were turned upon Pitt and Wolfe, who jointly shared the popular enthusiasm. The lustre of the British arms—tarnished by so many reverses—began to shine with restored brilliancy, and the nation rose almost as one man to do honour to the brave young officer whose prowess and courage had been so signally displayed in its behalf. He returned to England towards the close of the year, and at once rejoined his regiment. His health had suffered a good deal during the campaign in America, but this did not prevent his offering his services to Pitt for the forthcoming campaign in the St Lawrence. His offer was accepted, and he was rewarded with the rank of Major-General. To him was assigned the command of the land forces; the naval armament being entrusted to Admiral Saunders.

Before starting on this, his final expedition, he became a suitor to Miss Katherine Lowther, sister to Sir James Lowther, afterwards Earl of Lonsdale. Her father had formerly been Governor of Barbadoes, and died in 1745. We have no means of ascertaining when Wolfe first formed the acquaintance of this lady, but there is no allusion to her in any of his letters written previous to this time, and it is probable that until his return from America there had been no love passages between them. His courtship in this instance was successful. What young lady of generous impulses would be likely to refuse the hand of the brave hero of Louisburg, whose praises were in everybody's mouth, and who was the favourite of the greatest statesman that ever swayed the destinies of Great Britain? His suit was accepted, and he carried the lady's portrait with him across the seas, wearing it next his heart until the evening before his death.

Having got together a staff of officers to his liking, he embarked at Spithead on the 17th of February, 1759, and reached Halifax on the 30th of April following. Louisburg harbour was not clear of ice until about the middle of May, when the fleet sailed thither. During his stay at Louisburg Wolfe received intelligence of the death of his father, who died at Blackheath on the 26th of March, in the 75th year of his age. The fleet left Louisburg early in June, and proceeded to the St. Lawrence. Wolfe, in due course, landed on the Isle of Orleans, just below Quebec, where the troops, to the number of 8,000, were landed without opposition, on the morning of the 27th of June. Having seen his army encamped, Wolfe set out, accompanied by his Chief Engineer, and an escort to reconnoitre the enemy's position. Upon reaching the western point of the island, he was not long in perceiving that Quebec would not fall without a struggle. The prospect, sufficiently grand at any time, was rendered more than ordinarily impressive by the warlike preparations to be seen on every hand. In front, on the summit of Cape Diamond, rose the lofty citadel, with the flag of France fluttering in the breeze. Above, all the way to Cape Rouge, every landing-place bristled with well-guarded encampments. Below, on the elevated range extending from the mouth of the River St. Charles to the mouth of the Montmorenci—a distance of eight miles—was a still more imposing array. Every assailable point was efficiently guarded by a redoubt. A bridge, protected by tetes de pont, spanned the St. Charles, and formed a ready means of communication between the garrison and the troops on the opposite side of the river. The mouth of the stream, just below the citadel, was closed by a boom, and was further defended by stranded frigates. The natural advantages of the situation had been enhanced by the highest military skill, and there was not a vulnerable point to be seen anywhere. The enemy's forces, 12,000 strong, composed of French regulars, Canadian militia, and a few Indians, were under the direction of the Marquis de Montcalm, one of the most consummate generals of the age. The position was one which was one which might have well been pronounced impregnable, and Wolfe could hardly have been censured if he had then and there abandoned all hope of success.

But there are some men whom no difficulties can discourage, and no danger can daunt. Such a man was the intrepid young Major-General who had been sent out by Pitt to sound the death-note of French Dominion in Canada. With a shattered constitution, and a frame already in an advanced stage of consumption, the indomitable young hero commenced the first moves in that desperate game which he was finally destined to win at the cost of his own life. The siege lasted nearly three months, during all of which time, consumed by organic disease, and worn out by long and uninterrupted service, his dauntless resolution never wholly failed him. For weeks and weeks his eagle eye, ever on the alert to spy out a vulnerable point in that seemingly immaculate coat-of-mail, scanned the redoubts from Cape Rouge to the Montmorenci. There was no fool-hardiness—no wilful throwing away of life—but there was much to be dared, and much to be left to mere chance. Whenever there seemed to be any, even the slightest, prospect of effecting an opening, that chance was greedily seized and eagerly acted upon. Contemplated in the light of the grand result, we are lost in amazement at the indomitable soul of that frail young invalid who, undismayed by repeated defeat, by conflicting counsels, and by the effect of continued exposure upon his enfeebled frame, steadfastly persevered in his course until the goal was won. For British dominion in Canada was established, not by bravery alone. Montcalm's veteran troops were as brave as those to which they were opposed. Quebec was won by patience, by unceasing vigilance, by military skill, and by an inward conviction in the breast of the English commander that "All things are possible to him who will but do his duty, and who knoweth not when he is beaten." The time was one which called for action and no time was lost in useless deliberation. Wolfe's plan of attack was soon formed, and he at once proceeded to carry it out. The soldiers were directed to hold themselves in readiness either to march or fight at the shortest notice. A little before midnight on the 28th—about thirty hours after the forces had been landed—the sentinel on the western point of the island perceived certain black objects in the river which were slowly moving towards the land where he stood. He had no sooner aroused his companions than a tremendous discharge of artillery took place. The force immediately turned out and prepared for battle, but no enemy being, visible, it was necessary to wait for daylight. It then appeared that the French commander had despatched eight fire-ships and rafts, freighted with explosives, towards the British fleet in the river. These explosives had been launched from the shore in the darkness, but had been lighted prematurely, and failed to accomplish anything beyond a grand display of fireworks. Wolfe proceeded with his plans, and on the 30th he issued a proclamation to the inhabitants, calling upon them to transfer their allegiance, and enjoining upon them that they should at least preserve a strict neutrality. Monckton, one of Wolfe's Brigadier-Generals, then crossed over the arm of the river with a strong detachment, took possession of Peint Levi, threw up entrenchments, and planted batteries along the southern shore. In effecting this manoeuvre a body of 1,200 Canadians were dislodged and repulsed, and the British gained an advantageous position for attacking the citadel. Monckton held the position in spite of all Montcalm's efforts to dislodge him, and on the 13th of July the batteries opened fire from here upon the citadel. The fleet in the river also opened fire upon the French lines on the northern shore between Quebec and the Falls of Montmorenci, and under cover of the fire Wolfe landed on the eastern bank of the Montmorenci River, and intrenched his position there. The shells from the batteries at Point Levi set fire to the Upper Town of Quebec, whereby the great Cathedral and many other buildings were destroyed. Hostilities were renewed day by day, and there was great destruction both of property and of human life; but after weeks of toilsome operation the capture of Quebec seemed as far off as when the British fleet first arrived in the St. Lawrence. On the night of the 28th of July, the French made a second attempt to destroy the English fleet with fire-rafts, but the sailors grappled the rafts before they could reach the fleet and quietly towed them ashore.

Meantime, Wolfe's efforts to decoy Montcalm to emerge from his fastnesses and to enter into a general engagement were unceasing; but the French General was not to be tempted. Several British men-of-war sailed up the St. Lawrence, past the city, and got into the upper river. Wolfe was thus enabled to reconnoitre the country above, the bombardment of the citadel being kept up almost without intermission. On the 31st, Wolfe, from his camp near the month of the Montmorenci, made a formidable attack upon the French on the other side of the (Montmorenci) River, near Beauport. The attack was unsuccessful, and the British were compelled to retire with considerable loss. Attempts to dislodge the French were made at all points along the river; but owing to their advantageous position, all such attempts were fruitless, and as the weeks passed by without securing any decisive advantage to his arms, Wolfe's anxiety became so great as to bring on a slow fever, which for some days confined him to his bed. As soon as he was able to drag himself thence he called his chief officers together and submitted to them several new methods of attack. Most of the officers were of opinion that the attack should be made above the city, rather than below. Wolfe coincided in this view, and on the 3rd of September transferred his own camp to Point Levi. Soon afterwards a narrow path, scarcely wide enough for two men to march abreast, was discovered on the north bank of the St. Lawrence, leading up the cliffs, about two miles above the city. The spot was known as L'Anse du Foulon, but has since been known as Wolfe's Cove. Wolfe determined to land his forces here, and under cover of night, to ascend to the heights above. The heights once reached, it was probable that Montcalm might hazard a battle. Should he decline to do so, the British troops would at any rate have gained an advantageous point for a fresh attack upon the citadel.

Having determined upon this line of proceeding, preparations were at once set on foot for carrying it out. An important point was to keep the French in ignorance of the design, and if possible to mislead them as to the spot where it was proposed to make the attack. With this view, soundings were made in the river opposite Beauport, between the mouth of the St. Charles and the Falls of Montmorenci, as though with the intention of effecting a landing there. The ruse was successful, and Montcalm's attention was directed to this spot as the probable point which he would soon have to defend. He hurried down to the entrenchments at Beauport, and made preparations to oppose the British in their anticipated attempt to land.

On the evening of the 12th of September, several of the heaviest vessels of the British fleet anchored near Beauport. Boats were lowered, and were soon filled with men, as though it were intended to effect a landing forthwith. Montcalm's attention having been thus concentrated upon this point, the smaller vessels sailed up the river past Cape Diamond, and joined the squadron under Admiral Holmes, which lay near Cape Rouge. The forces on the south bank of the St. Lawrence simultaneously advanced up the shore from Point Levi, and having arrived opposite the squadron, were quietly taken on board, where they awaited further orders. Wolfe, with the germs of a hectic fever still rankling in his blood, was nevertheless actively engaged in reconnoitring the position both on the river and on land. And now we again meet for a few moments with our old friend, Mr. John Jervis. Eighteen years have passed over his head since we last met him in the playground at Greenwich. He is now commander of the Porcupine, one of the sloops of war in the St. Lawrence. A few weeks before this time he had rendered an essential service to his old school-fellow, James Wolfe. One of the General's passages up the river had been made in the Porcupine, and in passing the batteries of the Lower Town of Quebec, the wind had died away, and the vessel had been driven by the current towards the northern shore. A cannonade was at once opened upon the vessel from the French batteries, and Wolfe would soon have been in the hands of the enemy. Jervis proved equal to the occasion. His word of command rang out to lower the ship's boats. The command was at once obeyed, and the crew soon towed the Porcupine out of danger. The memory of this event may perhaps have had something to do with Wolfe's conduct towards his old friend on the evening of this 12th of September. The General sent for young Jervis, and had a conversation with him upon various private matters. He expressed his conviction that he would not survive the impending battle, and taking Miss Lowther's picture from his bosom, he delivered it to Jervis. "If I fall," he said, "let it be given to her with my best love." Jervis, of course, promised compliance, and the somewhile pupils of, Mr. Swindon bade each other a last farewell.

The hours intervening between this conference and midnight were chiefly spent by the General in adding a codicil to his will, and in making a final inspection of arrangements for the proposed landing at L'Anse du Foulon. The night was calm and beautiful, and as he passed from ship to ship he commented to the officers on the contrast between the quietness which reigned supreme, and the resonant roar of battle which would almost certainly be heard there on the morrow. As he quietly moved about he was heard repeating in a low tone several stanzas of Gray's "Elegy." One of these stanzas he repeated several times:

"The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, and all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th' inevitable hour; The paths of glory lead but to the grave."

The occasion was a solemn one, and he doubtless felt that, for him, the last line had a special significance at that time. Who shall say what other thoughts filled his breast on that last evening of his life? Perchance he thought of his mother, of his dead father and brother, and of her who was pledged to share his name and fame. Let us hope that, in that solemn hour, with the forebodings of his coming doom strong upon him, he was able to look back upon his life with a consciousness that he had served his God with at least some measure of the zeal which he had ever been wont to display in the service of his country. He continued to repeat the beautiful lines of the poet, down to the concluding words of the epitaph. Then after a brief pause, turning to his officers:—"Gentlemen," he said, "I would rather be the author of that piece than take Quebec to-morrow." [Footnote: There is a story to the effect that Wolfe, on this night, composed the well-known song which bears his name, commencing: "How stands the glass around?" The story is altogether without foundation, the song having been written and published long before General Wolfe was born. The poetical talent of the family seems to have been confined to the Irish branch, one of the members whereof, the Rev. Charles Wolfe, subsequently won immortality by a single short poem, "The Burial of Sir John Moore."]

But not much time could be given to sentiment. A little after midnight, Wolfe embarked a strong detachment of forces in flat-bottomed boats, and, placing himself at their head, quietly glided down the river to L'Anse du Foulon. The spot was soon reached, and the landing was effected in safety. The cliff here rises almost perpendicularly to a height of 350 feet, and one of the soldiers was heard to remark that going up there would be like going up the side of a house. No time was lost, and the ascent of the ravine was at once begun. The enemy had a line of sentinels all along the top of the cliff, and one of the sentries was stationed at the precise spot where the British would emerge on the summit. When those who were in the van of ascent had reached a point about half way up the acclevity, the sentry's attention was aroused by the noise of scrambling that was necessarily made by the British soldiers. Calling "Qui vive?" down the cliff, he was answered in French, and, suspecting nothing amiss, he proceeded on his rounds. Meanwhile the British had not waited to ascend two abreast, but were scrambling up as best they could. Seizing hold of bushes, roots, and projections of rock, they rapidly scaled the steep sides of the cliff, and were soon within a few yards of the top. About a hundred of them made the ascent at a point a few yards further east than the ravine, and directly above their heads was a sentry-post with five or six French soldiers, who, hearing the noise, began to peer down the side of the cliff. Darkness prevented their seeing much, but the roots and bushes seemed all alive, and firing a volley down at random, they took to their heels and fled. The British vigorously pushed their way up, and were soon on level ground. Long before daylight 4,828 British troops stood upon the Heights of Abraham, commanding the city from the West. One solitary cannon had been toilsomely dragged up the ravine. It was destined to do good service against the French troops, and to carry a message of death to their commander, ere many hours had passed.

The decisive moment was at hand. By this time Wolfe felt certain that the French General would now emerge from his entrenchments and fight. His conviction proved to be well founded. About six o'clock in the morning, Montcalm, who had been vigilantly watching during the night for an attack at Beauport, received the intelligence of Wolfe's manoeuvre. Hastening across the St. Charles, he hurried along past the northern ramparts of Quebec, and advanced to do battle. His forces consisted of 7,520 troops, besides 400 Indians. In addition to these, he had a force of about 1,500 men farther up the river, near Cape Rouge, under H. de Bougainville. Messengers were dispatched to this officer directing him to hasten to the scene of action and attack the British in their rear.

The battle began early in the forenoon, when Montcalm's artillery opened fire upon the British. His force, independently of that under H. de Bougainville, being nearly double that of the British, he hoped to turn his numerical superiority to account by out-flanking the enemy's left, and crowding them towards the bank, when he would oppose them to the front and to the north, while H. de Bougainville would sweep down upon their rear. M. de Bougainville, however, was slow in arriving, and Montcalm's attack on the north and east was opposed by the British with such determination that he was compelled to draw back. Then, remustering his troops, he returned to the charge. This was the decisive moment. The British, by Wolfe's command, threw themselves on the ground, and though the hot fire of the approaching Frenchmen did terrible execution among them not a shot was fired in return. On came the foe until they had advanced to within forty yards of the British. Then Wolfe's voice was suddenly heard above the din of battle like the note of a clarion. Responsive to his call, the troops rose as one man and poured in a volley so deadly as to strike even the well-trained veterans of France with awe. Scores of them fell to rise no more, and hundreds sank wounded on the plain. Such of the terrified Canadian troops as were able to run, fled in sheer terror. Before the smoke of that terrible volley had cleared away, Wolfe, his delicate frame trembling with illness, but buoyed up with the assurance of a glorious victory, placed himself at the head of the Louisburg Grenadiers and the 28th Regiment, and led them to the fray. Wrapping a handkerchief round his left wrist, which had just been shattered by a bullet, he continued to advance at the head of his men, inspiriting them alike by his acts and his deeds. He gave the word to "Charge," and the word has scarcely passed his lips when he received a bullet in the groin. Staggering under the shock, he yet continued to advance, though unable to speak above his breath. The battle had not yet raged more than fifteen minutes, but it was even now virtually decided. The French troops were utterly disorganized, and fled in all directions. Montcalm, brave to rashness, rode along the broken ranks, and vainly tried to re-form them. As he continued to harangue them, exposing himself to the enemy's fire with utter indifference to his own safety, he was struck by a shot from the solitary gun which the British had been able to drag up the heights. He fell, mortally wounded; and from that moment there can no longer be said to have been any fighting. It was a fierce pursuit on the one side and a frantic flight on the other.

Less than three minutes before Montcalm's fall, Wolfe had received a third bullet wound—this time in the left breast. He leant upon the arm of the nearest officer, saying, "Support me—do not let my brave fellows see me fall. The day is ours—keep it." He was at once carried to the rear. Hearing some one giving directions to fetch a surgeon, he murmured, "It is useless—all is over with me." As his life ebbed away he heard a voice exclaim "They run, they run!" The words inspired him with temporary animation. Slightly raising his head he asked, "Who—who run?" "The enemy, sir," was the reply; "they give way everywhere." Summoning his fast-fleeting strength, he rejoined, "Go, one of you, to Colonel Burton. Tell him to march Webb's regiment with all speed down to Charles River to cut off the retreat." His head then sank, and turning slightly on one side, as in a heavy sleep, he was heard to murmur, "Now, God be praised, I die in peace."

And thus died all that was mortal of James Wolfe. [Footnote: There are various accounts extant of this closing scene in Wolfe's life, all professing to come more or less directly from eye-witnesses. No two of them agree in all points, and one of them states that the General never uttered a syllable after he was carried to the rear. The above is the version generally accepted by historians, and is supported by the testimony of the most trustworthy of those who were present at the scene.]

Everybody knows the rest of the story; how M. de Bougainville appeared on the field too late to be of any service; how, seeing what had befallen, he retreated again to Cape Rouge; how the Marquis de Vaudreuil, the Governor, and his 1,300 Canadians deserted the lines below Quebec, and made what haste they could to Montreal; how the beleagured garrison, reduced by famine and slaughter, capitulated on the fifth day after the battle; how a year afterwards Canada was surrendered to the British Crown; and how the surrender was ratified by the Treaty of Paris on the 10th of February, 1763.

And Montcalm. He had his wish, expressed shortly after he received his death-wound, and did not live to see the surrender of the city which he had defended so bravely. The story of his life and death has been told at length in a previous sketch. At present it is sufficient to day that he died on the day following the battle, and that he was buried within the precincts of the Ursuline Convent, on Garden street, Quebec.

The British loss on the Plains of Abraham consisted of 59 killed and 597 wounded. The French loss was much greater, amounting to about 600 killed and more than 1,000 wounded and taken prisoners. The death-roll seems wonderfully small when compared with the carnage in many fields famous in history; but, judged by its results and all the attendant circumstances, the battle may very properly be numbered among the decisive conflicts of the world.

When intelligence of the death of Wolfe and the fall of Quebec reached England, the enthusiasm of the people rose to a height which may almost be described as delirious. The effect was much heightened by the fact that such good news was wholly unexpected; for only three days before, despatches had arrived from Wolfe wherein it did not appear that he was by any means sanguine of success. Bonfires blazed from one end of the kingdom to the other, and the streets of the metropolis were redolent of marrow-bones and cleavers. Persons who had never seen each other before shook hands, and in some cases even embraced one another, when they met on the streets. The coffee-houses were thronged with hysteric orators who held forth about the days of chivalry having come back again. Sermons about the sword of the Lord and of Gideon were heard in churches and chapels throughout the land. While all these things were passing in nearly every city, town, and important village in the kingdom, one spot remained unillumined. That spot was Blackheath, where the hero's mother mourned the loss of her only child—the child to whom, notwithstanding his delicate health, she had tried to look forward as the stay of her declining years. The neighbours, one and all, of whatsoever degree, respected her great sorrow, and forbore to take part in the general rejoicings. We can fancy, too, that there was mourning and desolation at Raby Castle, the home of the beautiful Miss Lowther.[Footnote: The portrait of this lady confided by Wolfe to John Jervis on the night of the 12th of September, was subsequently delivered to her, and she wore it in memory of her dead hero until her marriage, nearly six years afterwards, to Harry, Sixth and last Duke of Bolton. She survived until 1809, when she died at her mansion in Grosvenor Square, London, at the age of seventy-five.] A month later this lady wrote to one of her friends as follows, concerning Mrs. Wolfe: "I feel for her more than words can say, and should, if it was given me to alleviate her grief, gladly exert every power which nature or compassion has bestowed; yet I feel we are the last people in the world who ought to meet."

Wolfe's body was embalmed and conveyed to England, where, on the 20th of November, it was deposited beside that of his father in the family vault, beneath the parish church of Greenwich. An immense concourse of people assembled to do honour to the dead hero's remains. On the day after the funeral, Pitt rose in the House of Commons and proposed an address to the King, praying that a monument might be erected in Westminster Abbey to the memory of the Conqueror of Quebec. The prayer was assented to, and a committee appointed to carry out the details. The sculpture occupied thirteen years, and the ceremony of unveiling did not take place until the 4th of October, 1773. The monument is of white marble, and stands in the Chapel of St. John the Evangelist, facing the ambulatory. The sculpture is very fine, and embodies various emblematic scenes in Wolfe's life. The inscription runs as follows:

TO THE MEMORY OF JAMES WOLFE

MAJOR-GENERAL AND COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF OF THE BRITISH LAND FORCES, ON AN EXPEDITION AGAINST QUEBEC, WHO, AFTER SURMOUNTING BY ABILITY AND VALOUR ALL OBSTACLES OF ART AND NATURE, WAS SLAIN IN THE MOMENT OF VICTORY, ON THE XIII. of SEPTEMBER, MDXXLIX. THE KING AND PARLIAMENT OF GREAT BRITAIN DEDICATE THIS MONUMENT.

A monument was also erected to Wolfe's memory in the parish church of Westerham, the village where he was born; and other memorials are to be found in Spuerries Park and at Stowe. In the year 1832, Lord Aylmer, Governor-General of Canada, erected a small pillar, on the Plains of Abraham, on the exact spot where Wolfe is believed to have breathed his last. The railing around it being insufficient for its protection, it was ere long defaced by sacrilegious hands. In 1849 it was removed, and a more suitable memorial set on in its stead. The cost of the latter was chiefly defrayed by British troops stationed in the Province. The inscription upon it is as follows:

HERE DIED WOLFE: VICTORIOUS.



GOVERNOR SIMCOE



Among the many Canadians who at one time or another in their lives have visited Great Britain, comparatively few, we imagine, have thought it worth while to travel down to the fine old cathedral city of Exeter, in Devonshire. The sometime capital of the West of England is of very remote antiquity. It was a place of some importance before Julius Caesar landed in Britain, and eleven hundred years after that event it was besieged and taken by William the Conqueror. Later still, it was the scene of active hostilities during the wars of the Roses and of the Commonwealth. So much for its past. At the present day, for those to the manner born, it is one of the most delightful places of residence in the kingdom. It is not, however, of much commercial importance, and is not on any of the direct routes to the continent. Add to this, that the local society is a very close corporation indeed, and it will readily be understood why the place is somewhat caviare to the general public, and not much resorted to by strangers.

Like every other old English town, it has its full share of historic and noteworthy localities. The Guildhall, with its oldtime memories, and Rougemont Castle, once the abode of the West-Saxon kings, are dear to the hearts of local antiquarians. The elm-walk, near the Sessions House, is an avenue of such timber as can be seen nowhere out of England, and is a favourite resort for the inhabitants on pleasant afternoons. The Cathedral-close has been consecrated by the genius of one of the most eminent of living novelists, and its purlieus are familiar to many persons who have never been within thousands of miles of it. But the crowning glory of all is the cathedral itself, a grand old pile founded in the eleventh century, and the building of which occupied nearly two hundred years. Here, everything is redolent of the past. The chance wayfarer from these western shores who happens to stray within the walk of this majestic specimen of mediaeval architecture will have some difficulty, for the nonce, in believing in the reality of such contrivances as steamboats and railways. Certainly it is one of the last places in the world where one might naturally expect to see anything to remind him of so modern a spot as the capital of Ontario. But should any Torontonian who is familiar with his country's history ever find himself within those walls, let him walk down the south aisle till he reaches the entrance to the little chapel of St. Gabriel. If he will then pass through the doorway into the chapel and look carefully about him, he will soon perceive something to remind him of his distant home, and of the Province of which that home is the capital. Several feet above his head, on the inner wall, he will notice a medallian portrait in bold relief, by Flaxman, of a bluff, hearty, good-humoured-looking English gentleman, apparently in the prime of life, and attired in the dress of a Lieutenant-General. His hair, which is pretty closely cut, is rather inclined to curl—evidently would curl if it were a little longer. Below the medallion is a mural tablet bearing the following inscription:

"Sacred to the memory of John Graves Simcoe, Lieutenant-General in the army, and Colonel in the 22nd Regiment of Foot, who died on the 25th day of October, 1806, aged 54. In whose life and character the virtues of the hero, the patriot, and the Christian were so eminently conspicuous, that it may justly be said, he served his King and his country with a zeal exceeded only by his piety towards God."

On the right of the inscription is depicted the figure of an Indian warrior with a conspicuous scalp-lock. On the left is the figure of a veteran of the Queen's Rangers. To the well-read spectator, the portrait stands confessed as the likeness of the first Governor of Upper Canada, and the founder of the Town of York.

Monumental inscriptions, as a rule, are not the most trustworthy authorities whereby one may be enabled to form an unprejudiced estimate of the moral and intellectual qualities of "those who have gone before." In visiting any of the noteworthy resting-places of the illustrious dead, either in the old world or the new, we are not seldom astonished upon reading the sculptured testimony of the survivors, to find that "'tis still the best that leave us." One may well wonder, with the Arch-Cynic, where the bones of all the sinners are deposited. In the case of Governor Simcoe, however, there is much to be said in the way of just commendation, and the inscription is not so nauseously fulsome us to excite disgust. Toronto's citizens, especially, should take pleasure in doing honour to his memory. But for him, the capital of the Province would not have been established here, and the site of the city might long have remained the primitive swamp which it was when his eyes first beheld it on the morning of the 4th of May, 1793.

His life, from the cradle to the grave, was one of almost uninterrupted activity. He was born at Cotterstock, Northamptonshire. sometime in the year 1752, and was a soldier by right of inheritance. His father, Captain John Simcoe, after a life spent in his country's service, died in the St. Lawrence River, on board H. M. ship Pembroke, of miasmatic disease, contracted in exploring portions of the adjoining country for military purposes. His death took place only a few day's before the siege of Quebec, in 1759. He left behind him a widow and two children. The younger of these children did not long survive his father. The elder who had been christened John Graves lived to add fresh laurels to the family name, and at the time of his father's death was in his eighth year. Shortly after the gallant Captain's death his widow removed to the neighbourhood of Exeter, where the remaining years of her life were passed. Her only surviving son was sent to one of the local schools until he had reached the age of fourteen, when he was transferred to Eton. Few reminiscences of his boyish days have come down to us. He appears to have been a diligent student, more especially in matters pertaining to the history of his country, and from a very early age he declared his determination to embrace a military life. From Eton he migrated to Merton College, Oxford, where he continued to pursue his studies until he had entered upon his nineteenth year, when he entered the army as an ensign in the 35th regiment of the line. This regiment was despatched across the Atlantic to take part in the hostilities with the revolted American Colonies, and young Simcoe did his devoirs gallantly throughout the whole course of the war of Independence. In June, 1775, he found himself at Boston, and on the 17th of that month he took part in the memorable fight at Bunker Hill. He subsequently purchased the command of a company in the 40th Regiment, and fought at the battle of Brandywine, where he was severely wounded. Upon the formation of the gallant, provincial corps called "The Queen's Rangers," he applied for the command, and as soon as he had recovered from his wound his application was granted. Under his command, the Rangers did good service in many engagements, and fought with a valour and discipline which more than once caused them to be singled out for special mention in the official despatches of the time. Sir Henry Clinton, Commander-in-chief of the royalist forces in America, in a letter written to Lord George Germaine, under the date of 13th May, 1780, says that "the history of the corps under his (Simcoe's) command is a series of gallant, skilful, and successful enterprises. The Queen's Rangers have killed or taken twice their own numbers."

Upon the close of the war, the Rangers were disbanded, the officers being placed on the half-pay list. Young Simcoe had meanwhile been promoted to the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. During the progress of hostilities he had conceived an intense dislike to the colonists and their political principles, and the termination of the war caused no change in his sentiments toward them. This aversion accompanied him through life, and as we shall presently see, was destined to materially affect his subsequent career. Meanwhile, he returned to England with his constitution much impaired by the hard service he had undergone. Rest and regular habits, however, soon enabled him to recover, in a great measure, his wonted vigour. We next hear of him as a suitor to Miss Gwillim, a near relative of Admiral Graves, Commander of the British fleet during the early part of the Revolutionary War. The courtship soon terminated in marriage; and not long afterwards the ambitious young soldier was elected as member of the British House of Commons for the constituency of St. Maw's, Cornwall. The latter event took place in 1790. During the following session, Mr. Pitt's Bill for the division of the Province of Quebec into the two Provinces of Upper and Lower Canada came up for discussion. The member for St. Maw's was a vehement supporter of the measure, and upon it receiving the royal assent the appointment of Lieutenant-Governor of the new Province of Upper Canada was conferred upon him. He sailed from London on the 1st of May, 1792, accompanied by a staff of officials to assist him in conducting the administration of his Government. His wife, with her little son, accompanied him into his voluntary exile, and her maiden name is still perpetuated in this Province in the names of three townships bordering on Lake Simcoe, called respectively North, East, and West Gwillimbury. The party arrived in Upper Canada on the 8th of June, and after a brief stay at Kingston took up their abode at Newark, near the mouth of the Niagara River.

What Colonel Simcoe's particular object may have been in accepting the position of Lieutenant-Governor of such an uninviting wilderness as this Province then was, it is not easy to determine. He had retained his command in the army, and in addition to his receipts from that source, he owned valuable estates in Devonshire, from which he must have derived an income far more than sufficient for his needs. Upper Canada then presented few inducements for an English gentleman of competent fortune to settle within its limits. Its entire population, which was principally distributed along the frontier, was not more than 20,000. At Kingston were a fort and a few houses fit for the occupation of civilized beings. At Newark, there was the nucleus of a little village on the edge of the forest. Here and there along the St. Lawrence, around the Bay of Quinte, and along the Niagara frontier, were occasional little clusters of log cabins. In the interior, except at the old French settlement in the western part of the Province, there was absolutely nothing that could properly be called a white settlement. Roving tribes of Indians spread their wigwams for a season along the shores of some of the larger streams, but the following season would probably find the site without any trace of their presence. A few representatives of the Six Nations had been settled by Joseph Brant at Mohawk, on the Grand River, and there were a few Mississaugas near the mouth of the Credit. There was not a single well-constructed waggon road from one end of the Province to the other. Such was the colony wherein Governor Simcoe took up his abode with seeming satisfaction. It has been suggested that he must have been actuated by philanthropic and patriotic motives, and that he was willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of rendering Upper Canada a desirable place of settlement. Another suggestion is that he believed the flames of war between Great Britain and her revolted colonies likely to be re-kindled; in which case, he as Governor of an adjoining colony, which must be the battle-ground, would necessarily be called upon to play an important part. Whatever his motives may have been, he came over and administered the government for several years with energy and good judgment. He selected Newark as his temporary capital, and took up his quarters in an old store-house—upon which he bestowed the name of Navy Hall—on the outskirts of the village. Here, on the 16th of January, 1793, was born his little daughter Kate, and here he began to lay the foundation of the great popularity which he subsequently attained. He cultivated the most friendly relations with the Indians in the neighbourhood, who soon began to look upon him as their "Great Father." They conferred upon him Iroquois name of Deyonynhokrawen—"One whose door is always open." At a grand Council-fire kindled a few weeks after his arrival they conferred upon his little son Frank the dignity of a chieftain, under the title of "Tioga." The friendliness of the Indians conduced not little to the Governor's satisfaction: but there were other matters imperatively demanding his attention. The quality of the land in the interior, and even its external features, were subjects upon which very little was accurately known. He directed surveys to be made of the greater part of the country, which was laid out, under his supervision, into districts and counties. He did what he could to promote immigration, and held out special inducements to those former residents of the revolted colonies who had remained faithful to Great Britain during the struggle. These patriots, who are generally known by the name of United Empire Loyalists, received free grants of land in various parts of the Province, upon which they settled in great numbers. Free grants were also conferred upon discharged officers and soldiers of the line. To ordinary emigrants, lands were offered at a nominal price; and under this liberal system the wilderness soon began to wear a brighter aspect.

About two months after his arrival—that is to say, on the 17th of September, 1792, the first Provincial Parliament of Upper Canada met at Newark. The House of Assembly consisted of sixteen representatives chosen by the people; the Upper House of eight representatives appointed for life by the Governor on behalf of the Crown. This Legislature remained in session nearly a month, during which time it passed eight Acts, each of which was a great boon to the country, and reflected credit upon the intelligence and practical wisdom of the members. One of these Acts introduced the law of England with respect to property and civil rights, in so far as the same is applicable to the circumstances of a new and sparsely-settled country. Another established trial by jury. Another provided for the easy collection of small debts. Still another provided for the erection of gaols, courthouses and such other public buildings as might be necessary, in each of the four districts (the Eastern, Middle, Home and Western) into which the Province had been divided. The session closed on the 15th October, when the Governor complimented the members on their having done so much to promote the public welfare and convenience, and dismissed them to their homes.

Governor Simcoe was not long in discovering that Newark was not a suitable place for the capital of the Province. It was not central; and its proximity to the American Fort of Niagara, [Footnote: This fort was still occupied by British troops, but it was well understood that it would shortly be surrendered. The surrender took place under Jay's treaty on 1st June, 1796.] on the opposite bank of the river, was in itself a serious consideration. "The chief town of a Province," said he, "must not be placed within range of the guns of a hostile fort." As a temporary measure, he set about the construction of Fort George, on our side of the river, and then began to look about him for a suitable site for a permanent capital. He spent a good deal of time in travelling about the country, in order that he might weigh the advantages of different localities after personal inspection. He travelled through the forest from Newark to Detroit and back—a great part of the journey being made on foot—and to this expedition the Province is indebted for the subsequent survey and construction of the well-known "Governor's Road." The site of the future seat of Government meanwhile remained undecided. Lord Dorchester, the Governor-General, who had his headquarters at Quebec, urged that Kingston should be selected, but the suggestion did not accord with Governor Simcoe's views. The question for sometime continued to remain an open one. Finally, Governor Simcoe, in the course of his travels coasted along the northern shore of Lake Ontario, and after exploring different points along the route he entered the Bay of Toronto, and landed, as we have seen on the morning of Saturday, the 4th of May, 1793. The natural advantages of the place were not to be overlooked, and he was not long in making up his mind that here should be the future capital of Upper Canada. A peninsula of land extended out into Lake Ontario, and then came round in a gradual curve, as though for the express purpose of protecting the basin within from the force of the waves. Here, then, was an excellent natural harbour, closed in on all sides but one. An expanse of more than thirty miles of water intervened between the harbour and the nearest point of the territory of the new Republic. Toronto, too, was accessible by water both from east and west—a point of some importance at a time when there was no well-built highway on shore. These considerations (and doubtless others) presented themselves to the Governor's mind, and having come to a decision, he at once set about making some improvements on the site. To Lieutenant-Colonel Bouchette, he deputed the task of surveying the harbour. To Mr. Augustus Jones [Footnote: This gentleman's name is familiar to all Toronto lawyers and others who have had occasion to examine old surveys of the land herebouts. He subsequently married the daughter of an Indian Chief, and Rev. Peter Jones, the Indian Wesleyan missionary, was one of the fruits of this marriage.], Deputy Provincial Surveyor, was entrusted the laying out of the various roads in the neighbourhood. The great thoroughfare to the north called Yonge street, was surveyed and laid out for the most part under the personal supervision of Governor Simcoe himself, who named it in honour of his friend, Sir George Yonge, Secretary of War in the home government. In the course of the following summer, the Governor began to make his home in his new capital. The village, composed of a few Indian huts near the mouth of the Don, had theretofore been known by the name of Toronto, having been so called after the old French fort in the neighbourhood. Discarding this "outlandish" name, as he considered it, he christened the spot York, in honour of the King's son, Frederick, Duke of York. By this name the place continued to be known down to the date of its incorporation in 1834, when its former designation was restored.

At the date of the founding of York, the public press of Upper Canada consisted of a single demy sheet, called the Upper Canada Gazette, published weekly at Newark. Its circulation varied from 50 to 150 impressions. It was printed on Thursday, on a little press—the only one in the Province—which also printed the Legislative Acts and the Govermental proclamations. From the issue of August 1st, 1793, we learn that, "On Monday evening," which would be July 29th, "His Excellency the Lieutenant-Governor left Navy Hall and embarked on board His Majesty's schooner the Mississaga, which sailed immediately with a favourable gale for York, with the remainder of the Queen's Rangers." From this time forward, except during the sitting of the Legislature, Governor Simcoe make York his headquarters. The Queen's Rangers referred to in the foregoing extract were a corps which had recently been raised in Upper Canada by the royal command, and named by the Governor after the old brigade at the head of which he had so often marched to victory during the war of the Revolution. The first Government House of Toronto was a somewhat remarkable structure, and deserves a paragraph to itself. When Colonel Simcoe was about to embark from London to enter upon the duties of his Government in this country, he accidentally heard of a movable house which had been constructed for Captain James Cook, the famous circumnavigator of the globe. This house was made of canvas, and had been used by its former owner as a dwelling in various islands of the southern seas. Governor Simcoe learned that this strange habitation was for sale, and upon inspecting it he perceived that it might be turned to good account in the wilds of Upper Canada. He accordingly purchased it, and brought it across the Atlantic with him. He found no necessity for using it as a dwelling at Newark, where the storehouse furnished more suitable accommodation; but upon taking up his quarters at York, Captain Cook's pavilion was brought into immediate requisition. We have been able to find no very minute account of it; but it must have been large, as he not only used it as his general private and official residence, but dispensed vice-regal hospitalities within his canvas walls. It seems to have been a migratory institution, and to have occupied a least half-a-dozen different sites during its owner's stay at York. At one time it was placed on the edge, and near the mouth, of the little stream subsequently known as Garrison Creek. At another time it occupied a plot of ground on or near the present site of Gooderham's distillery. In short, it seems to have been moved about from place to place in accordance with the convenience or caprice of the owner and his family.

But there is one spot so intimately associated with Governor Simcoe's residence here that it is time to give some account of it. Every citizen of Toronto has heard the name of Castle Frank, and most have some general idea of its whereabouts. It is presumable that the Governor found his canvas house an insufficient protection against the cold during the winter of 1793-4. Perhaps, too, (observe please, this is a joke), the idea may have intruded itself upon his mind that there was a sort of vagabondism in having no fixed place of abode. At any rate, during the early spring of 1794 he erected a rustic, nondescript sort of log chateau on the steep acclivity overlooking the valley of the Don, rather more than a mile from the river's mouth. The situation is one of the most picturesque in the neighbourhood, even at the present day, and there must have been a wild semi-savagery about it in Governor Simcoe's time that would render it specially attractive to one accustomed, he had been, to the trim hedges and green lanes of Devonshire.

It must at least have possessed the charm of novelty. When finished, the edifice was a very comfortable place of abode. From Dr. Scadding's "Toronto of Old" we learn that it was of considerable dimensions, and of oblong shape. Its walls were composed of "a number of rather small, carefully hewn logs, of short lengths. The whole wore the hue which unpainted timber, exposed to the weather, speedily assumes. At the gable end, in the direction of the roadway from the nascent capital, was the principal entrance, over which a rather imposing portico was formed by the projection of the whole roof, supported by four upright columns, reaching the whole height of the building, and consisting of the stems of four good-sized, well-matched pines, with their deeply-chapped, corrugated bark unremoved. The doors and shutters to the windows were all of double thickness, made of stout plank, running up and down on one side, and crosswise on the other, and thickly studded over with the heads of stout nails. From the middle of the building rose a solitary, massive chimney-stack."

Such was the edifice constructed by Governor Simcoe for the occasional residence of himself and his family. He called it Castle Frank, after his little son, previously mentioned; a lad about five years of age at; this time. The cleared space contiguous to the building was circumscribed within rather narrow limits. A few yards from the walls on each side a precipitous ravine descended. Through one of these ravines flows the Don Elver; while through the other a little murmuring brook meanders on until its confluence with the larger stream several hundreds yards farther down. In addition to a numerous retinue of servants, the household consisted of the Governor, his wife, Master Frank, and the infant daughter already mentioned. Dr. Scadding draws a pleasant picture of the spirited little lad clambering up and down the steep hill-sides with the restless energy of boyhood. He was destined to climb other hill-sides before his life-work was over, and to take part in more hazardous performances than, when scampering with his nurse along the rural banks of the Don. Seventeen years passed, and the bright-eyed boy had become a man. True to the traditions of his house, he had entered the army, and borne himself gallantly on many a well-contested field in the Spanish Peninsula. He eagerly pursued the path of glory which, as poet tells us, leads but to the grave. The dictum as applied to him, proved to be true enough. The night of the 6th of October, 1812, found him "full of lusty life," hopeful, and burning for distinction, before the besieged outworks of Badajoz. During the darkness of night the siege was renewed with a terrific vigour that was not to be resisted, and the "unconsidered voluntaries" of Estramadura tasted the sharpness of English steel. The town was taken—but at what a cost! If any one wishes to know more of that fearful carnage let him read the description of it in the pages of Colonel Napier, and he will acquiesce in the chronicler's assertion that, "No age, no nation ever sent braver troops to battle than those that stormed Badajoz." The morning of the 7th rose upon a sight which might well haunt the dreams of all who beheld it. In the breach where the ninety-fifth perished almost to a man was a ghastly array, largely consisted of the mangled corpses of young English officers whose dauntless intrepidity had impelled them to such deeds of valour as have made their names a sacred inheritance to their respective families. Many of them were mere boys

"With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens"

upon whose cheeks the down of early manhood had scarce begun to appear. Among the many remnants of mortality taken from that terrible breach was the pallid corpse of young Frank Simcoe.

And what of the little sister, whose first appearance on life's stage was chronicled a few paragraphs back? Poor little Kate was a tender plant, not destined to flourish amid the rigours of a Canadian climate. She died within a year after the building of Castle Frank. Her remains were interred in the old military burying-ground, near the present site of the church of St. John the Evangelist, on the corner of Stewart and Portland streets. The old burying-ground is itself a thing of the past; but the child's death is commemorated by a tablet over her father's grave, in the mortuary chapel on the family estate in Devonshire. The inscription runs thus:—"Katharine, born in Upper Canada, 16th Jan, 1793; died and was buried at York Town, in that Province, in 1794."

In less than a month from the time of his arrival at York, Governor Simcoe was compelled to return for a short time to Newark in order to attend the second session of the Legislature, which had been summoned to meet on the 31st of May. During this session thirteen useful enactments were added to the statute book, the most important of which prohibited the introduction of slaves into the Province, and restricted voluntary contracts of service to a period of nine years. After the close of the session the Governor returned to York, and proceeded with the improvements which had already been commenced there, under his auspices. The erection of buildings for the accomodation of the Legislature was begun near the present site of the old gaol on Berkeley street, in what is now the far eastern part of the city. Hereabouts various other houses sprang up, and the town of York began to be something more than a name. It laboured under certain disadvantages, however, and its progress for some time was slow. A contemporary authority describes it as better fitted for a frog-pond or a beaver-meadow than for the residence of human beings. It was on the road to nowhere, and its selection by Governor Simcoe as the provincial capital was disapproved of by many persons, and more especially by those who had settled on the Niagara peninsula. Lord Dorchester, the Governor-General, opposed the selection by every means in his power. In civil matters relating to his Province, Governor Simcoe's authority was paramount; that is to say, he was only accountable to the Home Government; but the revenue of the Province was totally inadequate for its maintenance, and it was necessary to draw on the Home Government for periodical supplies. In this way, Lord Dorchester, who, from his high position, had great influence with the British Ministry, had it in his power to indirectly control, to some extent, the affairs of Upper Canada. He was, moreover, Commander-in-Chief of British North America, and as such had full control over the armaments. He determined that Kingston should at all events be the principal naval and military station on Lake Ontario, and this determination he carried out by establishing troops and vessels of war there. The military and naval supremacy then conferred upon Kingston has never been altogether lost.

There were other difficulties too, which began to stare Governor Simeoe in the face about this time. The nominal price at which land had been disposed of to actual settlers had caused a great influx of immigrants into the Province from the American Republic. To so great an extent did this immigration proceed that the Governor began to fear lest the American element in the Province might soon be the preponderating one. Should such a state of things come about, invasion or annexation would only be a matter of time. His hatred to the citizens of the Republic was intense, and coloured the entire policy of his administration. In estimating their political and national importance he was apt to be guided by his prejudices rather than by his convictions. In a letter written to a friend about this time, he expressed his opinion that "a good navy and ten thousand men would knock the United States into a nonentity." As the ten thousand men were not forthcoming, however, he deemed it judicious to guard against future aggression. The north shore of Lake Erie was settled by a class of persons whom he knew to be British to the core. This set him reflecting upon the advisability of establishing his capital in the interior; and within easy reach of these settlers, who would form an efficient militia in case of an invasion by the United States. He finally pitched upon the present site of London, and resolved that in the course of a few years the seat of government should be removed thither. This resolution, however, was never carried out. He did not even remain in the country long enough to see the Government established at York, which did not take place until the spring of 1797. In 1796 he received an appointment which necessitated his departure for the Island of St. Domingo, whither he repaired with his family the same year. Various reasons have been assigned for this appointment. The opposition of Lord Dorchester, we think, affords a sufficient explanation, without searching any farther. It has also been alleged that his policy was so inimical to the United States that the Government of that country complained of him at headquarters, and thus determined the Home Ministry, as a matter of policy, to find some other field for him. After his departure, the administration was carried on by the Honourable Peter Russell, senior member of the Executive Council, until the arrival of Governor Peter Hunter, in 1799.

Two years before his removal from Canada, Governor Simcoe had been promoted to the rank of Major-General. He remained at St. Domingo only a few months, when he retired to private life on his Devonshire estates. In 1798 he became Lieutenant-General, and in 1801 was entrusted with the command of the town of Plymouth, in anticipation of an attack upon that place by the French fleet. The attack never took place, and his command proved a sinecure. From this time forward we have but meagre accounts of him until a short time before his death, which, as the monumental tablet has already informed us, took place on the 25th of October, 1806. During the summer of that year he had been fixed upon as Commander-in-Chief of the East Indian forces, as successor to Lord Lake. Had his life been spared he would doubtless have been raised to the peerage and sent out to play his part in the history of British India. But these things were not to be. Late in September he was detached to accompany the Earl of Rosslyn on an expedition to the Tagus, to join the Earl of St. Vincent; an invasion of Portugal by France being regarded as imminent. Though fifty-four years of age, he sniffed the scent of battle as eagerly as he had done in the old days of the Brandy wine, and set out on the expedition in high spirits. The vessel in which he embarked had just been repainted, and he had scarcely got out of British waters before he was seized with a sudden and painful illness, presumed to have been, induced by the odour of the fresh paint. The severity of his seizure was such as to necessitate his immediate return. Upon landing at Torbay, not far from his home, he was taken very much worse, and died within a few hours. He was buried in a little chapel on his own estates, and the tablet in Exeter Cathedral was shortly afterwards erected in his honour.

But we Canadians have more enduring memorials of his presence among us than any monumental tablet can supply; and unless the topographical features of this Province should undergo some radical transformation, the name of Governor Simcoe is not likely to be soon forgotten in our midst. The large and important county of Simcoe, together with the lake, the shores whereof form part of its eastern boundary; the county town of the County of Norfolk; and a well-known street in Toronto—all these remain to perpetuate the name of the first Governor of Upper Canada. It is well that such tributes to his worth should exist among us, for he wrought a good work in our Province, and deserves to be held in grateful remembrance. He was not a man of genius. He was not, perhaps, a great man in any sense of the word; but he was upon the whole a wise and beneficent administrator of civil affairs, and was ever wont to display a generous zeal for the progress and welfare of the land which he governed. When we contrast his conduct of the administration with that of some of his successors, we feel bound to speak and think of him with all kindness.

The portrait which accompanies this sketch is engraved by kind permission of Dr. Scadding, from the frontispiece to his work, 'Toronto of old,' which was copied from a miniature obtained by the author from Captain J. K. Simcoe, a grandson of the Governor, and the present occupant of the family estates. The copy is a remarkably faithful one, and the authenticity of the original, coming, from such a source is beyond dispute.

The name "Castle Frank," as applied to the site of Governor Simcoe's abode, requires some explanation, as the original castle is not now in existence. After General Simcoe's departure from the Province, his rustic chateau was never used by any one as a permanent abode. Several of his successors in office, however, as well as various ether residents of York, used occasionally to resort to it as a kind of camping ground in the summer time, and it soon came into vogue for pic-nic excursions. Captain John Denison, a well-known resident of Little York, seems to have taken up his quarters in it for a few weeks, but not with any intention of permanently residing there. In. or about the month of June, 1829, the building was wantonly set on fire by some fisherman who had sailed up the Don. The timber was dry, and the edifice was soon burned to the ground. It has never been replaced, but the name of Castle Frank survives in that of the residence of Mr. Walter McKenzie, situated about a hundred yards distant. It is commonly applied, indeed, to all the adjoining heights; and on a pleasant Sunday afternoon in spring or summer, multitudes of Toronto's citizens repair thither for fresh air and a picturesque view. The route is through St. James' Cemetery, and thence through the shady ravine and up the hill beyond. Very few persons, we believe, could point out the exact site of the old "castle." It is, however easily discoverable by any one who chooses to search for it. A few yards to the right of the fence which is the boundary line between St. James' Cemetery and Mr. McKenzie's property is a slight depression in the sandy soil. That depression marks the site of the historic Castle Frank. It should be mentioned, however, that no curious citizen can legally gratify his desire to behold this momento of the past without first obtaining Mr. McKenzie's permission, as the site belongs to him, and cannot be reached from the cemetery without scaling the fence.

Besides his son Frank, whose death is recorded in the foregoing sketch. General Simcoe left behind him a younger son, Henry Addington Simcoe, christened after the eminent statesman who subsequently became Lord Sidmouth. The younger son took orders, and officiated for some years as a clergyman in the West of England. After the death of his brother in the breach at Badajos, he succeeded to the family estates; and in his turn was succeeded by his son, Captain J. K. Simcoe, above mentioned.



THE HON. ROBERT BALDWIN.



The life of Robert Baldwin forms so important an ingredient in the political history of this country that we deem it unnecessary to offer any apology for dealing with it at considerable length. More especially is this the case, inasmuch as, unlike most of the personages included in the present series, his career is ended, and we can contemplate it, not only with perfect impartiality, but even with some approach to completeness. The twenty and odd years which have elapsed since he was laid in his grave have witnessed many and important changes in our Constitution, as well as in our habits of thought; but his name is still regarded by the great mass of the Canadian people with feelings of respect and veneration. We can still point to him with the admiration due to a man who, during a time of the grossest political corruption, took a foremost part in our public affairs, and who yet preserved his integrity untarnished. We can point to him as the man who, if not the actual author of Responsible Government in Canada, yet spent the best years of his life in contending for it, and who contributed more than any other person to make that project an accomplished fact. We can point to him as one who, though a politician by predilection and by profession, never stooped to disreputable practices, either to win votes or to maintain himself in office.. Robert Baldwin, was a man who was not only incapable of falsehood or meanness to gain his ends, but who was to the last degree intolerant of such practices on the part of his warmest supporters. If intellectual greatness cannot be claimed for him, moral greatness was most indisputably his. Every action of his life was marked by sincerity and good faith, alike towards friend and foe. He was not only true to others; but was from, first to last true to himself. His useful career, and the high reputation which he left behind him, furnish an apt commentary upon the advice which Polonius gives to his son Laertes:—

"This above all, to thine own self be true; And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man."

To our thinking there is something august in the life of Robert Baldwin. So chary was he of his personal honour that it was next to impossible to induce him to pledge himself beforehand, even upon the plainest question. Once, when addressing the electors at Sharon, some one in the crowd asked him if he would pledge himself to oppose the retention of the Clergy Reserves, "I am not here," was his reply, "to pledge myself on any question. I go to the House as a free man, or I go not at all I am here to declare to you my opinions. If you approve of my opinions, and elect me, I will carry them out in Parliament. If I should alter those opinions I will come back and surrender my trust, when you will have an opportunity of re-electing me or of choosing another candidate; but I shall pledge myself at the bidding of no man." A gentleman still living in Toronto once accompanied him on an electioneering tour in his constituency of North York. There were many burning questions on the carpet at the time, on some of which Mr. Baldwin's opinion did not entirely coincide with that of the majority of his constituents. His companion remembers hearing it suggested to him that his wisest course would be to maintain a discreet silence during the canvass as to the points at issue. His reply to the suggestion was eminently characteristic of the man. "To maintain silence under, such circumstances," said he, "would be tantamount to deceiving the electors. It would be as culpable as to tell them a direct lie. Sooner than follow such a course I will cheerfully accept defeat." He could not even be induced to adopt the suppressio veri. So tender and exacting was his conscience that he would not consent to be elected except upon the clearest understanding between himself and his constituents, even to serve a cause which he felt to be a just one. Defeat might annoy, but would not humiliate him. To be elected under false colours would humiliate him in his own esteem, a state of things which, to high-minded man, is a burden intolerable to be borne.

It has of late years become the fashion with many well-informed persons in this country to think and speak of Robert. Baldwin as a greatly, over-estimated man. It is on all hands admitted that he was a man of excellent intentions, of spotless integrity, and of blameless life. It is not disputed, even by those whose political views are at variance with those of the party to which he belonged, that the great measures for which he contended were, in themselves conducive to the public weal, nor is it denied that he contributed greatly to the cause of political freedom in Canada. But, it is said, Robert Baldwin was merely the exponent of principles which, long before his time, had found general acceptance among, the statesmen of every land where constitutional government prevails. Responsible government, it is said, would have become an accomplished fact, even if Robert Baldwin had never lived. Other much-needed reforms with which his name is inseparably associated would have come, it is contended, all in good time, and this present year, 1880, would have found us pretty much where we are. To argue after this fashion is simply to beg the whole question at issue. It is true that there is no occult power in a mere name. Ship-money, doubtless, was a doomed impost, even if there had been no particular individual called John Hampden. The practical despotism of the Stuart dynasty would doubtless have come to an end long before the present day, even if Oliver Cromwell and William of Orange had never existed. In the United States, slavery was a fated institution, even if there had been no great rebellion, and if Abraham Lincoln had never occupied the Presidential chair. But it would be a manifest injustice to withhold from those illustrious personages the tribute due to their great and, on the whole, glorious lives. They were the media whereby human progress delivered its message to the world, and their names are deservedly held in honour and reverence by a grateful posterity. Performing on a more contracted stage, and before a less numerous audience, Robert Baldwin, fought his good fight—and won. Surrounded by inducements to prove false to his innate convictions, he nevertheless chose to encounter obloquy and persecution for what he knew to be the cause of truth and justice.

"Once to every man and nation Comes the moment to decide,"

says Professor Lowell. The moment came to Robert Baldwin early in life. It is not easy to believe that he ever hesitated as to his decision; and to that decision he remained true to the latest hour of his existence. If it cannot in strictness be said of him that he knew no variableness or shadow of turning, it is at least indisputable that his convictions never varied upon any question of paramount importance. What Mr. Goldwin Smith has said of Cromwell might with equal truth, be applied to Robert Baldwin: "He bore himself, not as one who gambled for a stake, but as one who struggled for a cause." These are a few among the many claims which Robert Baldwin has upon the sympathies and remembrances of the Canadian people; and they are claims which, we believe, posterity will show no disposition to ignore.

In order, to obtain a clear comprehension of the public career of Robert Baldwin ft is necessary to glance briefly at the history of one or two of his immediate ancestors. In compiling the present sketch the writer deems it proper to say that he some time since wrote an account of Robert Baldwin's life for the columns of an influential newspaper published in Toronto. That account embodied the result of much careful and original investigation. It contained, indeed, every important fact readily ascertainable with reference to Mr. Baldwin's early life. So far as that portion of it is concerned there is little to be added at the present time, and the writer has drawn largely upon it for the purposes of this memoir. The former account being the product of his own conscientious labour and investigation, he has not deemed it necessary to reconstruct sentences and paragraphs where they, already clearly expressed his meaning. With reference to Mr. Baldwin's political life, however, the present sketch embodies the result of fuller and more accurate information, and is conceived in a spirit which the exigencies of a newspaper do not admit of.

At the close of the Revolution which ended in the independence of the United States, there resided near the City of Cork, Ireland, a gentleman named William Wilcocks. He belonged to an old family which had once been wealthy, and which was still in comfortable circumstances. About this time a strong tide of emigration set in from various parts of Europe to the New World. The student of history does not need to be informed that there was at this period a good deal of suffering and discontent in Ireland. The more radical and, uncompromising among the malcontents staid at home, hoping for better times, many of them eventually took part in the troubles of '98. Others sought a peaceful remedy for the evils under which they groaned, and, bidding adieu to their native land, sought an asylum for themselves, and their families in the western wilderness. The success of the American Revolution combined with the hard times at home to make the United States "the chosen land" of many thousands of these self-expatriated ones. The revolutionary struggle was then a comparatively recent affair. The thirteen revolted colonies had become an independent nation, had started on their national career under favourable auspices, and had already become a thriving and prosperous community. The Province of Quebec, which then included the whole of what afterwards became Upper and Lower Canada, had to contend with many disadvantages, and its condition was in many important respects far behind that of the American Republic. Its climate was much more rigorous than was that of its southern neighbour, and its territory was much more sparsely settled. The western part of the Province, now forming part of the Province of Ontario, was especially thinly peopled, and except at a few points along the frontier, was little better than a wilderness. It was manifestly desirable to offer strong incentives to immigration, with a view to the speedy settlement of the country. To effect such a settlement was the imperative duty of the Government of the day, and to this end, large tracts of land were allotted to persons whose settlement here was deemed likely to influence colonization. Whole townships were in some cases conferred, upon condition that the grantees would settle the same with a certain number of colonists within a reasonable time. One of these grantees was the William Willcocks above mentioned, who was a man of much enterprise and philanthropy. He conceived the idea of obtaining a grant of a large tract of land, and of settling it with emigrants of his own choosing, with himself as a sort of feudal proprietor at their head. With this object in view he came out to Canada in or about the year 1790, to spy out the land, and to judge from personal inspection which would be the most advantageous site for his projected colony. In setting out upon this quest he enjoyed an advantage greater even than was conferred by his social position. A cousin of his, Mr. Peter Russell, a member of the Irish branch of the Bedfordshire family of Russell, had already been out to Canada, and had brought home glowing accounts of the prospects held out there to persons of capital and enterprise. Mr. Russell had originally gone to America during the progress of the Revolutionary War, in the capacity of Secretary to Sir Henry Clinton, Commander-in-chief of the British forces on this continent. He had seen and heard enough to convince him that the acquisition of land in Canada was certain to prove a royal road to wealth. After the close of the war he returned to the Old Country, and gave his relatives the benefit of his experience. Mr. Russell also came out to Canada with Governor Simcoe in 1792, in the capacity of Inspector-General. He subsequently held several important, offices of trust in Upper Canada. He became a member of the Executive Council, and as the senior member of that body the administration, of the Government devolved upon him during the three years (1796-1799) intervening between Governor Simcoe's departure from Canada, and the appointment of Major-General Peter Hunter as Lieutenant-Governor. His residence in Canada, as will presently be seen, was destined to have an important bearing on the fortunes of the Baldwin family. Meanwhile, it is sufficient to note the fact that it was largely in consequence of the valuable topographical and statistical information, furnished by him to his cousin William Willcocks that the latter was induced to set out on his preliminary tour of Asenation.

The result of this preliminary tour was to convince Mr. Willcocks that his cousin had not overstated the capabilities of the country, as to the future of which he formed the most sanguine expectations. The next step to be taken was to obtain his grant; and, as his political influence in and around his native city was considerable, he conceived that this would be easily managed. He returned home, and almost immediately afterwards crossed over to England, where he opened negotiations with the Government. After some delay he succeeded in obtaining a grant of a large tract of land forming part of the present Township of Whitchurch, in the County of York. In consideration of this liberal grant he on his part agreed to settle not fewer than sixty colonists on the laud so granted within a certain specified time. An Order in Council confirmatory of this arrangement seems to have been passed. The rest of the transaction is involved in some obscurity. Mr. Willcocks returned to Ireland, and was soon afterwards elected Mayor of Cork—an office which he had held at least once before his American tour. Municipal and other affairs occupied so much of his time that he neglected to take steps for settling his trans-Atlantic domain until the period allowed him by Government for that purpose had nearly expired. However, in course of time—probably in the summer of 1797—he embarked with the full complement of emigrants for New York, whither they arrived after a long and stormy voyage. They pushed on without unnecessary delay, and in due coarse arrived at Oswego, where Mr. Willcocks received the disastrous intelligence that the Order in Council embodying his arrangement with the Government had been revoked.

Why the revocation took place does not appear, as no change of Government had taken place, and the circumstances had not materially changed. Whatever the reason may have been the consequences to Mr. Willcocks and his emigrants were very serious. The poor Irish families who had accompanied him to the New World—travel-worn and helpless, in a strange land, without means, and without experience in the hard lines of pioneer life—were dismayed at the prospect before them. Mr. Wilcocks, a kind and honourable man, naturally felt himself to be in a manner responsible for their forlorn situation. He at once professed his readiness to bear the expense of their return to their native land. Most of them availed themselves of this offer, and made the best of their way back to Ireland—some of them, doubtless, to take part in the rising of '98. A few of them elected to remain in America, and scattered themselves here and there throughout the State of New York. Mr. Wilcocks himself, accompanied by one or two families, continued his journey to Canada, where he soon succeeded in securing a considerable allotment of land in Whitchurch and elsewhere. It is probable that he was treated liberally by the Government, as his generosity to the emigrants had greatly impoverished him, and it is certain that a few years later he was the possessor of large means. Almost immediately after his arrival in Canada he took up his abode at York, where he continued to reside down to the time of his death. Being a man of education and business capacity he was appointed Judge of the Home District Court, where we shall soon meet him again in tracing the fortunes of the Baldwin family. He had not been long in Canada before he wrote home flattering reports about the land of his adoption to his old friend Robert Baldwin, the grandfather of the subject of this sketch. Mr. Baldwin was a gentleman of good family and some means, who owned and resided on a small property called Summer Hill, or Knockmore, near Cairagoline, in the County of Cork. Influenced by the prospects held out to him by Mr. Willcocks, he emigrated to Canada with his family in the summer of 1798, and settled on a block of land on the north shore of Lake Ontario, in what is now the Township of Clarke, in the County of Durham. He named his newly-acquired estate Annarva (Ann's Field), and set about clearing and cultivating it. The western boundary of his farm was a small stream much until then was nameless, but which has ever since been known in local parlance as Baldwin's Creek. Here he resided for a period of fourteen years, when he removed to York, where he died in the year 1816. He had brought with him from Ireland two sons and four daughters. The eldest son, William Warren Baldwin, was destined to achieve considerable local renown as a lawyer and a politician. He was a man of versatile talents, and of much firmness and energy of character. He had studied medicine at the University of Edinburgh, and had graduated there two years before his emigration, but had never practised his profession as a means of livelihood. He had not been many weeks in this country before he perceived that his shortest way to wealth and influence was by way of the legal rather than the medical profession. In those remote times, men of education and mental ability were by no means numerous in Upper Canada. Every man was called upon to play several parts, and there was no such organization of labour as exists in older and more advanced communities. Dr. Baldwin resolved to practice both professions, and, in order to fit himself for the one by which he hoped to rise most speedily to eminence, he bade adieu to the farm on Baldwin's Creek and came up to York. He took up his quarters with his father's friend and his own, Mr. Willcocks, who lived on Duke street, near the present site of the La Salle Institute. In order to support himself while prosecuting his legal studies, he determined to take in a few pupils. In several successive numbers of the Gazette and Oracle—the one newspaper published in the Province at that time—we find in the months of December, 1802, and January, 1803, the following advertisement:—"Dr. Baldwin, understanding that some of the gentlemen of this town have expressed some anxiety for the establishment of a Classical School, begs leave to inform them and the public that he intends, on Monday, the first day of January next, to open a School, in which he will instruct Twelve Boys in Writing, Reading, Classics and Arithmetic. The terms are, for each boy, eight guineas per annum, to be paid quarterly or half-yearly; one guinea entrance and one cord of wood to be supplied by each of the boys on opening the School. N.B.—Mr. Baldwin will meet his pupils at. Mr. Willcocks' house on Duke street. York, December 18th, 1802." This advertisement produced the desired effect. The Doctor got all the pupils he wanted, and several youths, who, in after life; rose to high eminence in the colony, received their earliest classical teaching from him.

It was not necessary at that early day that a youth should spend a fixed term in an office under articles as a preliminary for practice, either at the Bar or as an attorney. On the 9th of July, 1794, during the regime of Governor Simcoe, an act had been passed authorizing the Governor, Lieutenant-Governor, or person administering the Government of the Province, to issue licenses to practise as advocates and attorneys to such persons, not exceeding sixteen in number, as he might deem fit. We have no means of ascertaining how many persons availed themselves of this statute, as no complete record of their names or number is in existence. The original record is presumed to have been burned when the Houses of Parliament were destroyed during the American invasion in 1813. It is sufficient for our present purpose to know that Dr. Baldwin was one of the persons so licensed. By reference to the Journals of the Law Society at Osgoode Hall, we find that this license was granted on the 6th of April, 1803, by Lieutenant-Governor Peter Hunter. We further find that on the same day similar licenses were granted to four other gentlemen, all of whom were destined to become well-known citizens of Canada, viz., William Dickson, D'Arcy Boulton, John Powell, and William Elliott. Dr. Baldwin, having undergone an examination before Chief Justice Henry Alcock, and having received his license, authorizing him to practise in all branches of the legal profession, married Miss Phoebe Willcocks, the daughter of his friend and patron, and settled down to active practice as a barrister and attorney. He took up his abode in a house which had just been erected by his father-in-law, on what is now the north-west corner of Front and Frederick streets. [It may here be noted that Front Street was then known as Palace Street, from the circumstance that it led down to the Parliament buildings at the east end of the town, and because it was believed that the official residence or "palace" of the Governor would be built there.] Here, on the, 12th of May, 1804, was born Dr. Baldwin's eldest son, known to Canadian history as Robert Baldwin.