I have not space to extend these notices of individual combatants in the American Revolution, though I might add scores to the number of those I have already noticed, equally loyal and courageous, and equal in their energy, sacrifices and sufferings in fleeing to Canada from American Republican persecution, far beyond anything endured by the Pilgrim and Puritan Fathers of New England, to whose enterprise, energy, and privations I have done ample justice in the first volume of this history.

The Loyalists fled to Canada, and settled chiefly in Lower Canada, on the northern banks of the St. Lawrence, between Montreal and Kingston, on the Bay of Quinte, Prince Edward, the frontiers of the Niagara district, and the northern shores of Lake Erie. In the following chapter I will present an epitome of the immigration of the first Loyalists to the Bay of Quinte, to the Niagara frontier, and to the northern shores of Lake Erie, especially of what was called the "Long Point" country, their modes of struggling their way thither, the privations and labours of their early settlement. I will here add a few passages from Dr. Canniff's Settlement of Upper Canada, with Special Reference to Bay Quinte, in regard to the Loyalists fleeing into Lower Canada, and making their way up the St. Lawrence to Kingston and Bay Quinte.

"The batteaux," says the late Sheriff Sherwood, of Brockville, "by which the refugees emigrated were principally built at Lachine, nine miles from Montreal. They were calculated to carry four or five families, with almost two tons weight. Twelve boats constituted a brigade, and each brigade had a conductor, with five men in each, one of whom steered. The duty of the conductor was to give directions for the safe management of the boats, to keep them together, and when they came to a rapid they left a portion of the boats in charge of one man. The boats ascending were doubly manned, and drawn by a rope fastened at the bow of the boat, having four men in the boat with setting poles; thus the men walked along the side of the river, sometimes in the water or on the edge of the bank, as circumstances occurred. Having reached the head of the rapids the boats were left with a man, and the other men went back for the other boats;" and so they continued until the rapids were mounted. Lachine was the starting place—a place of some twenty dwellings.

It was by these batteaux that the Loyalist refugee officers and their families, as well as the soldiers and their families, passed from the shores of Lake Champlain, from Sorel and St. Lawrence, where they had temporarily lived, to Upper Canada. It was also by these or the Schenectady or Durham boat that the pioneer Loyalists made their way from Oswego.

"Thus it is seen that to gain the northern shore of the St. Lawrence and Lake Ontario was a task of no easy nature, and the steps by which the Loyalists came were taken literally inch by inch, and were attended by hard and venturesome labour. Records are not wanting of the severe hardships endured by families on their way to their wooded lands. Supplied with limited comforts, perhaps only the actual necessaries of life, they advanced slowly by day along dangerous rapids, and at night rested under the blue sky. But our Loyalist forefathers and mothers were made of stern stuff, and all was borne with noble heroism.

"This toilsome mode of travelling continued for many a year. John Ferguson, writing in 1788 from Fredericksburg, Bay Quinte, to a friend in Lachine, Lower Canada, says of his journey: 'After a most tedious and fatiguing journey I arrived here, nineteen days on the way, sometimes for whole days up to the waist in water or mire.' But the average time required to ascend the rapids was from ten to twelve days, and three or four to descend.

"With the later coming loyal refugees was introduced another kind of flat bottomed boat. It was generally small, rigged with an ungainly sail; and usually built in the town of Schenectady; hence its name. Schenectady is a German word, and means pine barren. Families about to come to Canada would build one or more of these boats to meet their requirements.

"The Loyalists not only came in summer, by batteaux or the Schenectady boat, but likewise in winter. They generally followed, as near as possible, some one of the routes taken in summer. To undertake to traverse a wilderness with no road, and guided only by rivers and creeks, or blazed trees, was no common thing. Several families would sometimes join together to form a train of sleighs. They would carry with them their bedding, clothes, and the necessary provisions. We have received interesting accounts of winter journeyings from Albany along the Hudson, across to the Black River country, and to the St. Lawrence. Sometimes the train would follow the military road, along by Champlain, St. George, as far as Plattsburg, and then turn north to the St. Lawrence, by what was then called the Willsbury wilderness, and 'Chataquee' woods. At the beginning of the present century there was but one tavern through all that vast forest, and that of the poorest character. Indeed, it is said that while provision might be procured for the horses, none could be had for man. Those who thus entered Canada in winter found it necessary to stay at Cornwall until spring. Two or more of the men would foot it along the St. Lawrence to the Bay Quinte, and at the opening of navigation, having borrowed a batteau, descend to Cornwall for the women, children, and articles brought with them. While the families and sleighs were transported in the batteaux, the horses were taken along the shore by the larger boys, if such there were among them. The French train was occasionally employed in these winter journeys. It consisted of a long rude sleigh, with several horses driven tandem style; this allowed the passage among the trees to be made more easily.

"Travellers from Montreal to the west would come by a batteau, or Durham boat, to Kingston. Those who had business further west, says Finkle, 'were conveyed to Henry Finkle's, in Ernest Town, where they commonly stopped a few days. Thence they made their journey on horseback. A white man conducted them to the River Trent, where resided Colonel Bleecker, who was at the head and had control of all Mississauga Indians, and commanded the entire country to Toronto. At this place the traveller was furnished with a fresh horse, and an Indian guide to conduct him through an unsettled country, the road being little better than a common Indian path, with all its windings. The road continued in this state until about the year 1798. Sometimes the traveller continued his journey around the head of Lake Ontario, on horseback, to Queenston, where resided Judge Hamilton."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 138: An interesting incident occurred in the early life of Mrs. Morris—no other than that Washington desired to become her suitor—a fact which rests on the highest authority. In Sparks' Life of Washington there is the following passage: "While in New York, in 1756, Washington was lodged and kindly entertained at the house of Mr. Beverley Robinson, between whom and himself an intimacy of friendship subsisted, which indeed, continued without change till severed by their opposite fortunes twenty years afterwards in the revolution. It happened that Miss Mary Phillipse, a sister of Mrs. Robinson, and a young lady of rare accomplishments, was an inmate of the family. The charms of the lady made a deep impression upon the heart of the Virginia colonel. He went to Boston, returned, and was again welcomed to the hospitality of Mr. Robinson. He lingered there till duty called him away; but he was careful to entrust his secret to a confidential friend, whose letters kept him informed of every important event. In a few months intelligence came that there was a rival in the field, and that consequences could not be answered for if he delayed to renew his visits to New York. Whether time, the bustle of the camp, or the scenes of war, had moderated his admiration, or whether he despaired of success, is not known. He never saw the lady again, till she was married to that same rival, Captain Morris, his former associate in arms, and one of Braddock's aide-de-camps."]



CHAPTER XLI.

FIRST SETTLEMENT OF LOYALISTS IN THE BRITISH PROVINCES, ESPECIALLY UPPER CANADA—THEIR ADVENTURES AND HARDSHIPS, AS WRITTEN BY THEMSELVES OR THEIR DESCENDANTS.

In 1861 I addressed a printed circular to the United Empire Loyalists and their descendants in the British Provinces of North America, stating the design and scope of the history I proposed to write respecting them, in compliance with a call which had been made upon me by the press and members of all parties, and requesting the surviving Loyalists and their descendants to communicate to me, at my expense, any letters or papers they might possess which would throw light upon the early history of the fathers and founders of our country.

This chapter contains the letters and papers which I received in answer to my circular. These letters and papers, with repetitions of some incidents, contain, in a variety of style, statements and narratives of a remarkable character, and of intense interest, and introduce the reader to the inner life and privations of the bold, self-denying, and energetic pioneers of Canada and of other British provinces.

First Settlement of the First Company of Loyalists, after the close of the Revolutionary War.

Letter from the Rev. Dr. Richardson, late Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Canada:

"To the Rev. Dr. Ryerson.

"DEAR SIR,—

"The following is the narrative of which I spoke to you, relative to the early settlement of Upper Canada, as related to me by the late Mr. John Grass, of the Township of Kingston, some years since, and which you requested might be furnished for insertion in your forthcoming history of our country. I give it to you as near as may be in Mr. Grass's own words. The old gentleman, his father, I knew well when I was a boy; his residence was next to my father's for several years in Kingston. He was a genuine sample of an honest, plain, loyal German. The narrator was about eleven years old at the time he migrated with his father and the company of Loyalists from New York to 'Frontenac,' and therefore had a distinct recollection of all the incidents he relates. Being seated in his parlour one evening, while partaking of his hospitality, the conversation naturally turned on events connected with the first settlement of the township of Kingston and its early inhabitants, most of whom had descended to their graves; Mr. Grass was led to state as follows:

"My father had been a prisoner among the French at Frontenac (now Kingston), in the old French war, and at the commencement of the American revolution he resided in a farm on the borders of the North River, about thirty miles above New York. Being solicited by General Herkimer to take a captain's commission in the American service, he replied, sternly and promptly, that he had sworn allegiance to one King, meaning George the Third, and could not violate his oath, or serve against him.

"For this he was obliged to fly from his home and take refuge within New York, under British protection. His family had soon to follow him, being driven from their home, which by the enemy was dilapidated and broken up. They continued in that city till the close of the war, living on their own resources as best they could. On the return of peace, the Americans having gained their independence, there was no longer any home there for the fugitive Loyalists, of which the city was full; and the British Governor was much at a loss for a place to settle them. Many had retreated to Nova Scotia or New Brunswick; but this was a desperate resort, and their immense numbers made it difficult to find a home for them all, even there. In the meantime, the Governor, in his perplexity, having heard that my father had been a prisoner among the French at Frontenac, sent for him and said: 'Mr. Grass, I understand you have been at Frontenac, in Canada. Pray tell me what sort of a country is it? Can people live there? What think you?' My father replied: 'Yes, your Excellency, I was there a prisoner of war, and from what I saw I think it a fine country, and that people might live there very well.' 'Oh! Mr. Grass,' exclaims the Governor, 'how glad I am to hear that, for the sake of these poor Loyalists. As they cannot all go to Nova Scotia, and I am at a loss how to provide for them, will you, Mr. Grass, undertake to lead thither as many as may choose to accompany you? If so, I will furnish a conveyance by Quebec, and rations for you all till such time as you may be able to provide for yourselves.' My father requested his Excellency to allow him three days to make up his mind. This was granted, and accordingly, at the expiration of the three days, my father went to the Governor and said he would undertake it. Notices were then posted up through the city, calling for all that would go to Frontenac to enrol their names with Mr. Grass; so in a short time the company of men, women, and children was completed, a ship provided and furnished, and off they started for the unknown and far distant region, leaving the homes and friends of their youth, with all their endearing recollections, behind them—the fruits of all their former toil and suffering—a sacrifice to their loyalty. The first season they got no further than Sorel, in Lower Canada, where they were obliged to erect log huts for the winter. Next spring they took boats, and proceeding up the St. Lawrence, at length reached Frontenac, and pitched their tents on Indian Point, where the marine docks of Kingston now stand. Here they awaited the surveying of the lands, which was not accomplished so as to be ready for location before July. In the meantime several other companies had arrived by different routes under their respective leaders, who were all awaiting the completing of the surveys. The Governor, also, who by this time had himself come to Quebec, paid them a visit, and riding a few miles along the lake shore on a fine day, exclaimed to my father: 'Why, Mr. Grass, you have indeed got a fine country! I am really glad to find it so.' While the several companies were together waiting for the survey, some would say to my father: 'The Governor will not give you the first choice of the townships, but will prefer Sir John Johnson and his company, because he is a great man.' But my father replied that he did not believe that, for if the Governor should do so he should feel himself injured and would leave the country, as he was the first man to mention it to the Governor in New York, and to proceed hither with his company for settlement.

"At length the time came, in July, for the townships to be given out. The Governor came, and having assembled the companies before him, called for Mr. Grass, and said: 'Now, you were the first person to mention this fine country, and have been here formerly as a prisoner of war. You must have the first choice. The townships are numbered first, second, third, fourth, and fifth. Which do you choose?' My father says: 'The first township (Kingston).' Then the Governor says to Sir John Johnson, 'Which do you choose for your company?' He replies, 'The second township (Ernest Town).' To Colonel Rogers, 'Which do you choose?' He says, 'The third township (Fredericksburg).' To Major Vanalstine, 'Which do you choose?' He replies, 'The fourth township (Adolphustown).' Then Colonel M'Donnell, with his company, got the fifth township (Marysburgh). So after this manner the first settlement of Loyalists in Canada was made.

"But before leaving, the Governor very considerately remarked to my father, 'Now, Mr. Grass, it is too late in the season to put in any crops.' What can you do for food? My father replied, 'If they were furnished with turnip seed, they might raise some turnips.' 'Very well,' said the Governor, 'that you shall have.' Accordingly from Montreal he sent some seed, and each man taking a handful thereof, they cleared a spot of ground in the centre of where the town of Kingston now stands, and raised a fine crop of turnips, which served for food the ensuing winter, with the Government rations.

"The above is at your service.

"With much respect,

"JAS. RICHARDSON.

"Clover Hill, Toronto, 1st December, 1859."

Transmitted to the Author by a gentleman in Nova Scotia, taken from the "Political Magazine," published in London 1783:

"When the loyal refugees from the Northern provinces were informed of the resolution of the House of Commons against offensive war with the rebels, they instantly saw there were no hopes left them of regaining their ancient settlements, or of settling down again in their native country.

"Those of them, therefore, who had been forward in taking up arms, and in fighting the battles of the mother country, finding themselves deserted, began to look out for a place of refuge, and Nova Scotia being the nearest place to their old plantations, they determined on settling in that province. Accordingly, to the number of 500 embarked for Annapolis Royal; they had arms and ammunition, and one year's provisions, and were put under the care and convoy of his Majesty's ship the Amphitrite, of 24 guns, Captain Robert Briggs. This officer behaved to them with great attention, humanity, and generosity, and saw them safely landed and settled in the barracks at Annapolis, which the Loyalists soon repaired. There was plenty of wild fowl in the country, and at that time, which was last fall, a goose sold for two shillings, and a turkey for two shillings and sixpence. The captain was at L200 expense out of his own pocket in order to render the passage and arrival of the unfortunate Loyalists in some degree comfortable to them. Before Captain Briggs sailed from Annapolis, the grateful Loyalists waited on him with the following address:

"To Robert Briggs, Esquire, Commander of His Majesty's Ship 'Amphitrite.'

"The loyal refugees who have emigrated from New York, to settle in Nova Scotia, beg your acceptance of their warmest thanks for the kind and unremitted attention you have paid to their preservation and safe conduct at all times during their passage.

"Driven from their respective dwellings for their loyalty to our King, after enduring innumerable hardships, and seeking a settlement in a land unknown to us, our distresses were sensibly relieved during an uncomfortable passage by your humanity, ever attentive to our preservation.

"Be pleased to accept of our most grateful acknowledgments, so justly due to you and the officers under your command, and be assured we shall remember your kindness with the most grateful sensibility.

"We are, with the warmest wishes for your health, happiness, and a prosperous voyage,

"With the greatest respect,

"Your most obedient humble servants,

"In behalf of the refugees,

"AMOS BOTSFORD, "TH. WARD, "FRED. HANSIR, "SAM. CUMMINS, "ELIJAH WILLIAMS.[139]

"Annapolis Royal, the 20th of October, 1782."

Letter with Enclosure from the Hon. R. Hodgson, Chief Justice of Prince Edward Island.

"CHARLOTTETOWN, Prince Edward Island, 12th June, 1861.

"SIR,—

"I recently perused, in a newspaper published in Halifax, Nova Scotia, called the 'British Colonist,' a statement to the purport that you contemplate publishing a history of 'The British United Empire Loyalists of America,' and have issued a circular to the descendants of the Loyalists, asking for information relating to the lives and adventures of their forefathers.

"I have not seen your circular, and possibly the whole thing may be a mere newspaper fabrication; but it is stated so circumstantially as to carry with it an air of truth, and I have been induced to copy a brief memoir of my maternal grandfather, Lieut.-Colonel Joseph Robinson, in his own handwriting, now in my possession, and to enclose it to you herewith, to be made use of as you think fit in your intended publication. The memoir would appear, from a statement contained in it, to be written in obedience to some order from the then Secretary at War, possibly calling upon the Loyalists in receipt of half-pay from the British Government for a record of their services, to meet parliamentary enquiry; it is marked on the back of the draft, in Colonel Robinson's handwriting, as 'transmitted.' He died in this Island (formerly St. John's Island, now Prince Edward Island) in 1808 or 1809. Colonel Robinson was a native of Virginia, and emigrated from somewhere about James River, in that province, to South Carolina, where he resided at the commencement of the revolution. After a reward had been offered for his life, as stated in his memorial, and he had been compelled to abscond, a party of rebels visited his plantation and burned to the ground his dwelling-house and every building upon it, scarcely giving time to my grandmother (as she has often told me) to drag out of the house her two female children in time to save their lives. My grandmother was a woman of heroic spirit, and she, accompanied by a single faithful negro slave, made her way on horseback, in an overland journey of several hundred miles, to East Florida, where she joined her husband. In this journey she carried one of her children before her on the same horse, and the negro man carried the other in the same way on the horse he rode.

"At the termination of the contest, my grandfather's property, a large and valuable one, was confiscated by the victors, and he embarked with his family for the island of Jamaica, was unfortunately shipwrecked by the way, and lost every particle of property he had left, he, his wife and children, with difficulty escaping drowning. After a short residence in that island he emigrated to St. John's, in the Province of New Brunswick, and ultimately came to this island.

"He was a member of the House of Assembly of this colony, and its Speaker afterward; an Assistant-Justice of the Supreme Court, and member of the Executive Council, such Council at that time also exercising legislative functions. These last-named offices of Judge and member of Council he held up to his decease.

"I was much too young at his death to be enabled to say anything of my personal knowledge of him; but from his papers which I have perused, I am warranted in saying that he was a man of a refined mind, an excellent classical scholar, with a great taste for astronomy, and possessing no ordinary talent in that science, which seems to have amused and occupied his mind in his latter years. The only reward he received was the half-pay of a lieutenant-colonel (his Judgeship was an honorary one, having no salary or emolument); this he enjoyed up to the period of his decease.

"I have somewhat hurriedly put together these observations. You may rely upon the truth of the facts stated, and they are at your service if coming within the scope and meaning of your intended history. At the same time, if the thing be a newspaper hoax, I must beg you to excuse the liberty I have taken in addressing you, and please burn this and the copy of the memoir.

"I have the honour to be, Sir,

"Your obedient servant,

"R. HODGSON,

"Chief Justice of Prince Edward Island."

Report of Joseph Robinson, Lieutenant-Colonel of the late Regiment of South Carolina Royalists, now residing in the Island of St. John, in the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

"To the Right Honourable William Wyndham, Secretary at War.

"At the commencement of the American rebellion, I was an inhabitant of the Province of South Carolina, and major of a regiment of the King's Militia in Cambden District.

"The insurgents formed a camp in Ninety-six district, and were recruiting men, declaring that as soon as they had forces sufficient for their purpose they would burn and destroy the houses and property of all persons who refused to join them in opposing the King and the authority of Great Britain.

"I then waited upon Lord William Campbell, the Governor of the Province, and received written orders from his lordship to levy forces and march against the rebels, in consequence of which I advanced with about 2,000 men, and found them fortified at Ninety-six Court-house. We defeated them and destroyed their fortifications.

"But in the meantime the violence of the insurgents obliged Lord William Campbell to depart from his Province, and our small army of Royal Volunteers was left without further orders, money, or military stores; wherefore, with much reluctance, I was under the necessity of desiring the men to return to their respective habitations, and by all means not to suffer any false pretences of the rebel party to deceive them, or to efface their principles of loyalty, until we should enjoy a more favourable opportunity.

"A reward being then offered for my life, personal safety induced me to retire to the Cherokee Indian nation, afterwards to the Creek Indians, and, passing through many dangers and suffering various hardships, at length arrived at Saint Augustine, in the Province of East Florida, in the year 1777. Soon afterwards, a party of about 300 men, being some of those I formerly commanded in South Carolina, joined me there.

"I formed the regiment, which was styled the South Carolina Royalists, of which General Prevost appointed me lieutenant-colonel, and soon after I received my commission from Sir Henry Clinton, the Commander-in-Chief.

"The said regiment acted in East Florida, Georgia, and South Carolina, in the course of which service I was in several engagements against the enemy—viz., at the Alligator Bridge, in East Florida; at Doctor Brimstone's Plantation, in Georgia; at New Port Meeting-house, in Georgia; at New Port Bridge, in Georgia; at Stone Ferry, in South Carolina; and afterwards at the reduction of Sunbury Fort, in the Province of Georgia, and the fortifications of Charlestown, in South Carolina. The order from the office of the Secretary at War was not seen or known by me until the 24th of April, 1797; and that I am now fifty-five years of age.

(Signed) "JOSEPH ROBINSON,

"Lieut.-Colonel of the late South Carolina Royalist Regiment.

"Charlottetown, Island of St. John,

"April 26th, 1797.

"Half-pay commenced 7th November, 1783."

Letter from Colonel John C. Clark, respecting his Father's Sufferings in the Revolutionary War, and Settlement in the Midland District.

"ERNEST TOWN, July 9th, 1861.

"Rev. Egerton Ryerson, D.D.

"REVEREND SIR,—

"Having seen your circular, I write to inform you of my late father's connection with the war of the revolution in the then British colonies. My father, Robert Clark, Esq., late of the township of Ernest Town, in the county of Addington, deceased, was born March 16th, 1744, on Quaker Hill, in Dutchess county, and Province of New York. He learned the trade of carpenter and millwright, and was the owner of two farms. When the war commenced, his loyal proclivities made it dangerous for him to remain at home, and he joined the British standard as a volunteer in 1776. He had a few opportunities of visiting his family privately, who consisted then of a wife and two children (boys); another son was born during his absence, who was called Robert (after his father), on which occasion the nurse—being a violent Tory—whispered the secret to some of the rebels' wives in the vicinity, that Robert Clark was at home, well knowing the secret would be divulged; and for several days and nights after 'there were liers-in-wait' about the house to capture the Tory when he made his exit. At length the said nurse told them they had been hoaxed.

"I have a powder-horn now in my possession, which my father owned in the time of the war, with his name cut on it, with the date 'Fort Edward, November 4th, 1776.' His family were driven from their home and his lands confiscated. Being with General Burgoyne's army on the 16th of October, 1777, the day previous to the general's surrender of his army to Generals Gates and Arnold, Burgoyne mustered the provincial volunteers, and told them that he was obliged to surrender his army; that they must leave the camp that night, and, if possible, avoid the army, and try to find their way to Canada.

"They left accordingly, and after some weeks of great suffering and privation, my father reached Canada. He subsequently served two years in his Majesty's provincial regiment called 'Loyal Rangers,' commanded by Major Edward Jessup, and was in Captain Jonathan Jones' company, and was discharged the 24th of December, 1783.

"In 1782-83 he was employed by Government to erect the Kingston Mills (then Cataraqui), preparatory to the settlement of the Loyalists in this section of the Province of Quebec. While there employed, his wife and three children arrived in Canada, in the autumn of 1783; they wintered at Sorel, where they all were afflicted with the small-pox, and being entirely among strangers, most of whom spoke a language not understood by them, they were compelled to endure more than the usual amount of suffering incident to that disease; the husband being at a distance, and in the employ of Government, could not leave to administer to their necessity.

"In 1784 his family joined him at the Mills, after immense suffering, having been separated by the vicissitudes of war for the term of seven years.

"In 1785 he removed with his family to lot No. 34, in the 1st concession of Ernest Town (where he had three children born, and of the six I am the only survivor), in which year he was again employed by Government to build the Napanee Mills.

"He was appointed a Justice of the Peace for the (then) district of Mecklenburg in July, 1788, and subsequently an officer in the militia; he joined the first Methodist class formed in Ernest Town by the Rev. William Losee, in 1791, and remained a consistent member during his life. He died the 17th December, 1823.

"If you can glean anything from the above sketch to assist you in your new work, I shall be much gratified.

"I have the honour to be, Rev. Sir,

"Your obedient servant,

"JOHN C. CLARK."

Adventures and Sufferings of Captain William Hutchison, and his Settlement in Walsingham, County of Norfolk; communicated by his grandson, J.B. Hutchison, Esquire.

"In the beginning of the wars of 1776, William Hutchison (my grandfather) was urged to join the rebel army (he living at that time in New Jersey); but he boldly declared, death before dishonour. After being harassed about for some time, and leaving a wife and eight children to the mercy of their enemies, he with a number of others tried to make their way to the British army, and were followed by a large force of the enemy; but when they found themselves so greatly outnumbered (being about ten to one), they tried to make their escape to an old barn; but every one of the unfortunate men was caught and hanged but himself. They did not succeed in finding him, he hiding among the bushes. While he lay hidden among some elder bushes, one of the enemy pulled up the bush where he lay, saying 'this would be a d——d good place for a——to hide,' but the shadow falling on him completely hid him from sight. His captain, James J. Lett, was among the unhappy victims, grandfather being lieutenant under him at the time. His comrades being all killed, he tried to escape from his covert, but they had stationed sentries all around; he could hear them swearing vengeance on him if they could find him. It being bright moonlight, he could see quite a long distance. He crawled along on his hands and knees across a field, and got into the middle of the road; when the sentries, one on either side of him, got into a quarrel and came close to him before they settled their dispute; having done so, they turned to go away; he then made his escape and got to the British army. After suffering all the horrors of a war lasting seven years, losing his property—everything but his loyalty—and that, having extended faithfully through the whole family, is not likely to be lost. His wife and six of his children died from the sufferings consequent upon such a war. Previous to this he had received a captain's commission. After the war closed, he went to New Brunswick, and remained there fourteen years, coming to Canada in 1801, and settled in the township of Walsingham. My father, Alexander Hutchison, was the only surviving son by his first wife. In the war of 1812, my grandfather went out against the enemy with his sons, Alexander, David, and James, in which war my father lost his life.

"Hoping you may be able to find something in these fragments which will be interesting to you,

"I remain, with the greatest respect,

"Yours most faithfully,

"J.B. HUTCHISON."

Patriotic feelings—Early Settlement of Prince Edward County and Neighbouring Townships.

Extracts of an address entitled "Scraps of Local History," delivered by Canniff Haight, Esq., before the Mechanics' Institute of Picton, March 16th, 1859:

"If I feel a pride in one thing more than another, it is that I am a Canadian. I rejoice more in being the descendant of these early pioneers of Canada, than if noble blood coursed my veins. I point you back with more unmitigated pleasure to that solitary log cabin in the wilderness which once bordered your fine bay, as the home of my fathers, than I would to some baronial castle in other lands.

"Is there for honest poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that?

"The coward slave we pass him by— We dare be poor for a' that. For a' that, and a' that, Our toils obscure and a' that; The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that!'

"We love our country. Thousands of sweet recollections cluster round our childhood's homes, and as we think of them the words of Scott occur to us:

"'Breathes there a man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land; Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned. As home his footsteps he hath turned'——

"What part of the world can you point me to to show such rapid changes as have occurred here? Where among the countries of the earth shall we find a quicker and more vigorous growth? Seventy years ago this beautiful and wealthy county of Prince Edward was one dense and untrod forest. We can hardly realize the fact, that even one century has not passed away since those strong-hearted men pushed their way into the wilderness of Upper Canada. Were they not heroes?

"In the summer of the year 1795, or thereabouts, a company of six persons, composed of two married men and their wives, with two small children, pushed a rough-looking and somewhat unwieldy little boat away from the shore in the neighbourhood of Poughkeepsie, and turned its prow up the Hudson. A rude sail was hoisted, but it flapped lazily against the slender mast. The two men betake themselves to the oars. The sun was just showing his face above the eastern woods as they pulled out into the river. The boat was crowded with sundry household matters—all carefully packed up and stowed away; a very small place was left at the stern, and was occupied by the two women and the children. The mother was a small and delicate-looking creature, well and neatly dressed. Had you been there, you would have observed tear after tear dropping from the pale cheek, as she bent in silence over her youngest babe; and see, the eyes of that young father, too, are suffused with tears. Why do they weep? Whither are they bound? Not a word is spoken. They are too sad to talk. Still the oar keeps its measured stroke, and they glide slowly on, and thus may we follow them day after day. Now and then a gentle breeze fills the sail, and wafts the small boat on. When the shades of evening begin to fall around them, they push to shore, and rear a temporary tent. Then the frugal supper is spread upon the green grass, and they gather round it, and forget their toils in speculations upon the future. But the morrow draws on, with its demands upon their strength; so they lay them down to rest. In due course they reach Albany, then a small Dutch town filled with Dutch people, Dutch comforts and frugality, and Dutch cabbage. This in those days was one of the outposts of civilization. Beyond was a wilderness-land but little known. Some necessaries are purchased, and again our little company launch away. They reach the place where the city of Troy now stands, and turn away to the left into the Mohawk river, and proceed slowly, and often with great difficulty, up the rapids and windings of the stream. The rich and fertile valley of the Mohawk of to-day was then the home of the Indian. There the celebrated Chief Brant had lived but a short time before, but had now withdrawn into the wilds of Western Canada. The voyagers, after several days of hard labour and difficulty, emerge into the little lake Oneida, lying in the north-western part of the State of New York, through which they pass with ease and pleasure. The most difficult part of their journey had been passed. They reach the Onondago river, and soon pass down it to Oswego, then an old fort which the French had reared when they possessed the country as a barrier against the encroachments of the wily Indian. Several bloody frays have occurred here, but our friends did not pause to learn their history. Their small craft now danced upon the wide bosom of Ontario, but they did not push out into the lake, and away across it. No; they are careful sailors, and they believed no doubt 'that small boats should not venture far from shore,' and so they wind along it until they reach Gravely Point, now known by the more dignified name of Cape Vincent. Here they strike across the channel, and thence around the lower end of Wolf Island, and into Kingston Bay, when they come to shore and transact some business. There were not many streets or fine store-houses in Kingston at this time. A few log-houses composed the town. An addition was made to their diminished stock of eatables, and away they push again. They steer now up the Bay of Quinte; and what a wild and beautiful scene that must have been! Could those toil-worn voyagers have failed to mark it? Why do they slacken their pace? Why do they so often rest upon their oars and look around? Why do they push into this little cove and that? Why do they laugh and talk more than usual? Perhaps their journey is drawing to an end! We shall see. They go up the bay until they reach township number five. This township, now known as Adolphustown, is composed of five points or arms of land, which run out into the bay. They run round three of these points, and turn down an arm of the bay called Hay-bay, and after proceeding some two miles pull to shore. Their journey it would seem had come to an end, for they begin at once to unload their boat and build a tent. The sun sinks down behind the western woods, and they, weary and worn, lay down to rest. Six weeks had passed since we saw them launch away in quest of this wilderness home. Look at them, and tell me what you think of the prospect. Is it far enough away from the busy haunts of men to suit you? or would you not rather sing,

"'Oh, Solitude, where are the charms Which sages have seen in thy face? Better dwell in the midst of alarms, Than reign in this horrible place.'

"With the first glimmer of the morning's light, all hands are up and at work. A small spot is cleared away; trees are felled and a house is built. I fancy that it was not large nor commodious; that the rooms were not numerous nor spacious. The furniture, I suppose, did not amount to much either in quality or quantity; an inventory thereof would probably run somewhat after this fashion—a pot or two, perhaps a few quite common plates, cups and saucers, knives and forks, a box or two of linen, a small lot of bed-clothes, etc., with a

"'Chest contriv'd a double debt to pay— A bed by night, a chest of drawers by day.'

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is no fancy sketch, but one drawn from the shadows of the past. You may find hundreds of similar adventures in the past history of our country. Such was the first home of the young wife whom I have mentioned. She had once lived in comfort, but by the fate of war the home of a father and husband had been confiscated, and hence they had sought for a dwelling-place in Canada, when England offered other homes to those who had fought her battles. A grandchild of that couple now stands before you.

"We can form no correct idea of the difficulties which beset these early inhabitants, nor of the hardships and privations they endured. They were not unfrequently reduced to the very verge of starvation, yet they struggled on. Tree after tree fell before the axe, and the small clearing was turned to immediate account. A few necessaries of life were produced, and even these, such as they were, were the beginnings of comfort—comfort indeed, but far removed from the idea we associate with the term.

"But time rolled on. The openings in the forest grew larger and wider. The log cabins began to multiply, and the curling smoke told a silent but cheerful tale. There dwelt a neighbour, miles perhaps away, but a neighbour nevertheless. The term bears a wide difference now-a-days. If you would like an idea of the proximity of humanity and the luxury of society in those days, just place a few miles, say six or eight, of dense woods between you and your neighbour, and you may get a faint conception of the delights of a home in the woods.

"There are some here, I presume, who have heard their parents or their grandparents tell of the dreadful sufferings they endured the second year after the settlement of the Bay of Quinte country. The Government was to provide food, etc., for two years. It could hardly be expected that men could go into the woods with their families, and clear up and raise enough for their support, the first or even the second year. The second year's Government supply, through some bad management, was frozen up in the lower part of the St. Lawrence, and in consequence the people were reduced to a state of famine. Men willingly offered pretty much all they possessed for food. I could show you one of the finest farms in Hay-bay that was offered to my grandfather for a half hundred of flour, and refused. A very respectable old lady, whom numbers of you knew, but who some time since went away to her rest—whose offspring, some at least, are luxuriating in comfort above the middle walks of life—was wont in those days to wander away early in the spring to the woods and gather and eat the buds of the basswood, and then bring an apron or basketfull home to the children. Glad were they to pluck the rye and barley heads, as soon as the kernel had formed, for food; and not many miles from Picton a beef's bone passed from house to house, and was boiled again and again in order to extract some nutriment. It seems incredulous, but it is no fiction, and surely no homoeopathist would desire to be placed on a lower regimen.

"I feel it unnecessary almost for me to tell you that the largest proportion of the first settlers of this province were Americans who had adhered to the cause of England. After the capture of General Burgoyne, many of the Royalists with their families moved into Canada; and upon the evacuation of New York, at the close of the war, a still greater number followed. A large proportion of these were soldiers, disbanded and left without employ. Some there were who had lost their estates by confiscation; so that nearly all were destitute and dependent upon the liberality of the country whose battles they had fought, and for whose cause they had suffered. In order, therefore, to reward their loyalty and relieve their present necessities, as well as to supply some means of future subsistence, the British Government determined upon making liberal grants of the land in Upper Canada and other provinces to the American Loyalists. The measure was not only an act of justice and humanity, but it was sound in policy and has been crowned with universal success.

"The grants were made free of expense and upon the following scale: A field-officer received 5,000 acres; a captain, 3,000; a subaltern, 2,000; and a private soldier, 200 acres. A survey was accordingly made, commencing near Lake St. Francis, then the highest French settlement, and extended along the shores of the St. Lawrence up to Lake Ontario, and thence along the lake, and round the Bay of Quinte. Townships were laid out, and then subdivided into concessions and lots of 200 acres. These townships were numbered, but remained without names for many years afterwards. Of these numbers there were two divisions—one including the townships below Kingston on the river, east to the St. Francis settlement; the others from Kingston, west to the head of the Bay of Quinte. This will at once explain to you the reason why the old people used to talk of first, second, third, fourth town, etc., as far back as we can remember and up to the present. No names were given to the townships by legal proclamation, as we said before, until long after they were settled, and hence the habit was formed of designating them by numbers.

"The settlement of the surveyed portion of the Midland district, so named because of its then central position, commenced in the summer of 1784. The new settlers were supplied with farming utensils, building materials, provisions, and some clothing, for the two first years, at the expense of the nation; and in order that the love of country may take deeper root in the hearts of these true men, the Government determined to put a mark of honour, as the Orders of Council expressed it, upon the families who had adhered to the unity of the empire, and joined the Royal standard in America before the treaty of separation in the year 1783. A list of such persons was directed in 1789 to be made out and returned, to the end that their posterity might be discriminated from the future settlers. From these two emphatic words, the Unity of the Empire, it was styled the U.E. List, and they whose names were entered upon it were distinguished as U.E. Loyalists. You are aware of the fact that this was not a mere empty distinction, but was, in reality, a title of some consequence; for it not only provided for the U.E.'s themselves, but guaranteed unto all their children, upon arriving at the age of twenty-one years, 200 acres of land free from all expense. I always look back on these early acts of the English nation with the fathers of this growing Canada with pleasure, and I venerate the memory of those true and noble-hearted men, who loved their fatherland so well that they even preferred to live under the protection of her flag in the wild woods of Canada, and endure hunger and want, than enjoy the comforts of home under the banner of a rebellious but now independent people. And I hope, ladies and gentlemen, that we, the sons and daughters of those whom our mother country was wont to honour, may never love our country and its institutions less than they.

"Kingston is the oldest Upper Canadian town by many years. Here the white man found his way over a century before any settlement was made or thought of. The crafty and industrious French Governor, De Courcelles, in order to check the encroachments of the Five Nations, despatched a messenger from Quebec to their chiefs, stating that he had some business of great importance to communicate, and desired them to proceed to Cataraqui, where he would meet them. (I observe here that Cataraqui is an Indian name, and means 'Rocks above water.') As soon as the deputies of the Indians arrived, a Council was held. The Governor informed them that he was going to build a fort there, simply to facilitate the trade between them and to serve as a depot for merchandise. The chiefs, ignorant of the real intent of the design, readily agreed to a proposition which seemed to be intended for their advantage; but this, so far from being the case, or what the Indians expected, was really to be a barrier against them in future wars. While measures were being completed to build the fort, Courcelles was recalled and Count de Frontenac sent out in his place. Frontenac carried out the designs of his predecessor and completed the fort in 1672, which received and retained his name for many years. Kingston was subsequently substituted, and the county received the name of Frontenac."

Letters from the late Rev. George J. Ryerse, dated June 12th and June 23rd, 1861, give some particulars of his father's coming to Canada, and of the earliest settlement of the London District.

His father, Colonel Samuel Ryerse, was appointed Lieutenant of the county, and authorized to organize the militia and appoint the officers, as also the local civil court, of which he was the first Judge. The following letters indicate what he sacrificed and endured for his allegiance to the unity of the empire, and for which allegiance he and thousands of others were banished from the United States and their property confiscated; but the writer has never heard a word from any one of these veteran Loyalists regretting the part he had taken:

"PORT RYERSE, 12th June, 1861.

"MY DEAR COUSIN,—

"I received your circular some time since, but, through forgetfulness, I did not at once give an answer. I am highly gratified with your noble undertaking, and humbly trust that you may live to succeed and be amply rewarded. I am sorry that I have no documents that would be of use to you. You are aware of the staunch loyalty that was inherent in our parents, that made them sacrifice everything out of regard for the British Throne, and endure every privation in their early settlement in this country. It was in 1794 my father came here, and gave orders to his family that if he should decease while on his way through the United States, to take his body to British soil for burying. At that time there were but eight families residing within thirty miles of this place, except Indians; no roads; the nearest mill 100 miles distant by water (at Niagara Falls). My father purchased corn of the Indians at the Grand River, thirty miles from home, and carried it home on his shoulders. Afterwards he bought a yoke of oxen of the Indians, and on a toboggin sled put his son, and with his axe and compass made his way through the woods and streams to his beloved home. Two years afterwards he built a saw mill, and afterwards a grist mill. These nearly proved his ruin, not understanding the business, and very little to sustain them; they were badly built, and proved a bother to him, but still a great help to the settlement for a long time. Merchandise was so very expensive and produce so very cheap that the early settlers could barely exist; but they loved their country, and they have gone to their rest, and I feel proud that so many of their children inherit their spirit.

"I am, yours truly,

"GEORGE J. RYERSE.

"Rev. E. Ryerson."

"PORT RYERSE, 23rd June, 1861.

"DEAR COUSIN,—

"Your kind letter I received, and in answer to your suggestions I have to state that my father was a captain in the New Jersey Volunteers during the American Revolution; and at its close in 1783, having his property confiscated in the United States, he went to New Brunswick and drew lands according to his rank as captain; but being disappointed both in soil and climate, finding it to be sterile and uncongenial, he determined to remove to Canada. In the spring of 1794 he started and went to Long Island, the place where the city of Brooklyn now stands, and there left his family. While on foot, he went to Canada (U.C.) to better his condition by looking out a more congenial place. Having accomplished his purpose, he started, at the opening of navigation, with his family, in company with Captain Bonta's family, first on board a sloop (as all was then done by sloops) to Albany, thence by land to Schenectady, where they procured a flat-bottomed boat, in which families and baggage were put; thence, with poles and oars, against a strong current, they made their way up the Mohawk river a long distance, until they came to a place called Wood Creek, which they again navigated for a long-distance toward Lake Ontario, until they approached a stream called the Oswego, which to enter they had to draw their boat by hand across a portage (I think some two miles); thence down this stream to the lake to Oswego; thence up the lake in this boat westward to the Niagara river; thence up the Niagara as far as Queenston, where again they had to pass over a portage of nine miles around the Falls to Chipawa; thence up the river eighteen miles to Lake Erie; thence up the lake westward eighty miles to the place my father had selected (and which is now my home), arriving here 1st July, 1795. It was in this boat that they went to mill, as before stated to you. A kind Providence furnished plenty of fish and game at this early day, or the people could not have survived. The total absence of roads, schools, and religious teachers for many years were among the heavy privations that the early settlers had to endure.

"I remain, yours truly,

"GEORGE J. RYERSE.

"Rev. E. Ryerson."

Historical Memoranda by Mrs. Amelia Harris, of Eldon House, London, Ontario, only daughter of the late Colonel Samuel Ryerse, and sister of the late Rev. Geo. J. Ryerse, writer of the foregoing short letters.

The husband of Mrs. Harris was an active and scientific officer in the Royal Navy, having been employed with the late Admirals Bayfield and Owen in the survey of the Canadian lakes and rivers, by the Admiralty, during the years 1815 to 1817. It was during the progress of this survey that Miss Ryerse married. After a few years' residence at Kingston, Mr. and Mrs. Harris returned to a beautiful homestead on Long Point Bay, intending to reside there permanently. In the days of the early settlement, a more refined and cultivated society was to be found in the country than usually in the towns and villages. Mr. Harris was at once selected by the various Governments of the day to be the recipient of various Government offices. During the years 1837-38 he took an active part in quelling the rebellion, and is believed by many to have been the head and front and organizer of the expedition which sent the steamer Caroline over the Falls. He was the first man on her deck, and the last to leave, having set her on fire.

The late Edward Ermatinger, in his Life of Colonel Talbot, refers to the Harris family as follows:

A.D. 1834. "By degrees the officers of the Court removed to London, and Mr. Harris was the first to build a house of considerable dimensions on a handsome piece of ground highly elevated above the banks of the River Thames. This house was long the resort of the first men in Canada, and in this house the venerable founder of the Talbot settlement lay during his first serious illness, while on his way to England. Every man of rank or distinction who visited this part of Canada became the guest of Mr. Harris—the late Lord Sydenham, the various lieutenant-governors and governor-generals, and the present Lord Derby, were among the number."

In the following memoranda, which Mrs. Harris wrote more than twenty years since, at the wish of her children, but not for publication, she gives a graphic and highly interesting account of her father's early settlement in Canada, and the circumstances of the first settlers, and the state of society of that time:

"Captain Samuel Ryerse, one of the early settlers in Canada, was the descendant of an old Dutch family in New Jersey, and both his father and grandfather held judicial appointments under Kings George II. and III. When the rebellion commenced in 1776, and the British Government was anxious to raise provincial troops, they offered commissions to any young gentlemen who could enlist a certain number of young men; sixty, I think, entitled them to a captaincy. My father, Captain Ryerse, being popular in his neighbourhood, found no difficulty in enlisting double the number required, and on presenting himself and men at headquarters, New York, was gazetted captain in the 4th Battalion New Jersey Volunteers, in which regiment he served with distinction during the seven years' war.

"After the acknowledgment of American Independence by England, and the British troops were about to be disbanded, the British Government offered them a free transport to New Brunswick, and a grant of land. When there, little choice was left to those who had sacrificed all for connection with the mother country. On my father's arrival in New Brunswick he obtained a lot of land in or near Fredericton, the present seat of government; and there he met my mother, who was a refugee also, and they were married.

"After remaining there several years, his friends entreated him to return to New York, holding out great inducements if he would consent to do so. He accepted the offer of his friends and returned, but he soon discovered that the rancorous, bitter feelings which had arisen during the war were not extinct, and that it was too soon for a British subject to seek a home in the United States. My mother loved her native city, and might not have been induced again to leave it had it not been for domestic affliction. She brought from the healthy climate of New Brunswick four fine children, all of whom she buried in New York in eight weeks. She gave birth to four more; three of those had died also, and she felt sure if she stayed there she would lose the only remaining one. Therefore she readily consented to my father's proposal to come to Canada, where his old friend, General Simcoe, was at that time governor. In the summer of 1794 my father and a friend started for Canada. The journey was then a most formidable one, and before commencing it wills were made and farewells given, as if a return was more than doubtful.

"On his arrival at Niagara he was warmly greeted by his old friend, General Simcoe, who advised him by all means to settle in Canada, holding out many inducements for him to do so. He promised my father a grant of 3,000 acres of land as a captain in the army, 1,200 as a settler, and that my mother and each of her sons should have a grant of 1,200, and each of her daughters a grant of 600 acres.

"My father was pleased with what he saw of the country, and heard a favourable account of the climate, and decided at once to return as early the ensuing year as possible. On his return to New York he commenced making arrangements for his move the ensuing spring.

"It would be much easier for a family to go from Canada to China now, than it was to come from New York to Canada then. He had to purchase a boat large enough to hold his family and goods, with supplies of groceries for two or three years, with farming utensils, tools, pots, boilers, etc., and yet the boat must not be too large to get over the portage from the Hudson to the Mohawk. As there were no waggon roads from Albany to the Niagara frontier, families coming to Canada had to come down the Mohawk to Lake Ontario, and enter Canada in that way. My father found it a weary journey, and was months in accomplishing it.

"On my father's arrival at Niagara, at that time the seat of government, he called on his Excellency General Simcoe, who had just returned from a tour through the Province of Canada West, then one vast wilderness. He asked General Simcoe's advice as to where he should choose his resting-place. He recommended the county of Norfolk (better known for many years as Long Point), which had been recently surveyed.

"As it was now drawing towards the close of summer, it would require all their time to get up a shanty and prepare for the winter. Consequently, arrangements were made immediately for continuing their journey. The heavy batteau was transported from Queenston to Chippawa, around the Falls, a distance of twelve miles. Supplies were added to those brought from New York, and they once more started on their journey, bidding goodbye to the last vestige of civilization. They were twelve days making 100 miles—not bad travelling in those days, taking the current of the river and lake, adverse winds, and an unknown coast into consideration.

"When my father came within the bay formed by Long Point, he watched the coast for a favourable impression, and, after a scrutiny of many miles, the boat was run into a small creek, the high banks sloping gradually on each side.

"Directions were given to the men to erect the tent for my mother. My father had not been long on shore before he decided that that should be his home. In wandering about, he came to an eminence which would, when the trees were felled, command a view of the harbour. He gazed around him for a few moments and said, 'Here I will be buried,' and there, after fourteen years' toil, he sleeps in peace.

"The men my father hired in New York all wished to settle in Canada, and were glad to avail themselves of an opportunity of coming free of expense, and promised to remain with him until he had a log-house built, and had made himself comfortable. He had paid them a great portion of their wages in advance, to enable them to get necessaries in New York. Immediately on his arrival at Niagara they left him, with one exception, and went in search of localities for themselves, very little regard at that time being paid to engagements, and there being no means to enforce them; consequently, he had to hire fresh hands at Niagara, who were men, like the former, on the look-out for land. After one day's rest at Ryerse Creek, they re-embarked, and went fourteen miles further up the bay, to the house of a German settler who had been there two years, and had a garden well stocked with vegetables.

"The appearance of the boat was hailed with delight by those solitary beings, and my mother and child were soon made welcome, and the best that a miserable log-house, or rather hut, could afford was at her service. This kind, good family consisted of father, mother, one son and one daughter. Mr. Troyer, the father, was a fine-looking old man with a flowing beard, and was known for many years throughout the Long Point settlement as 'Doctor Troyer.' He possessed a thorough knowledge of witches, their ways and doings, and the art of expelling them, and also the use of the divining rod, with which he could not only find water, but could also tell how far below the surface of the earth precious metals were concealed, but was never fortunate enough to discover any in the neighbourhood of Long Point. Here my father got his goods under shelter and left my mother, and returned to Ryerse Creek, intending to build a log-house as soon as possible. Half a dozen active men will build a very comfortable primitive log-house in ten or twelve days; that is, cut and lay up the logs and chink them, put on a bark roof, cut holes for the windows and door, and build a chimney of mud and sticks. Sawing boards by hand for floor and doors, making sash and shingles, is an after and longer process.

"But soon after my father returned he fell ill with Lake fever; his men erected a shanty, open in front like an Indian camp, placed my father in it, and left him with his son, a lad of fifteen years of age, the son of a former wife, as his only attendant. When my father began to recover, my half brother was taken ill, and there they remained almost helpless, alone for three weeks.

"My mother hearing nothing of or from them, became almost frantic, as some of the party were to have returned in a few days. She prevailed upon Mike Troyer, the son, to launch his bark canoe, and to take her and my brother, then a year and a half old, in search of my father. On approaching Ryerse Creek, after a many days' paddle along the coast, they saw a blue smoke curling above the trees, and very soon my mother stood in front of the shanty, where my father sat with a stick, turning an immense turkey, which hung, suspended by a string, before a bright fire. The day previous, a large flock of wild turkeys had come very near his camp, and commenced fighting. Without moving from his shanty, he killed six at one shot. He afterwards, at single shots, killed eight more, and the united strength of him and my brother was scarcely sufficient to bring them into camp. My mother used to look back upon that evening as one of the happiest of her life. She had found her loved ones, after torturing her mind with all sorts of horrors—Indians, wild beasts, snakes, illness, and death had all been imagined. The next day, Mike Troyer's canoe was laden with wild turkeys, and he returned alone, as my mother refused to separate herself again from my father. A few days after, a party of pedestrians arrived, on the look-out for land, and they at once set to work and put up the wished-for log-house or houses, for there were two attached, which gave them a parlour, two bedrooms, and a kitchen and garret. On removing from the shanty to this house, my mother felt as if in a palace. They bought a cow from Mr. Troyer and collected their goods, and when cold weather set in they were comfortable.

"My father found it necessary to return to Niagara to secure the patent for the lands he had selected, and also to provide for wants not previously known or understood. The journey was long and tedious, travelling on foot on the lake shore, and by Indian paths through the woods, fording the creeks as he best could. At the Grand River, or River Ouse, there was an Indian reservation of six miles on each side of the river from its mouth to its source, owned by two tribes of Indians, Mohawks and Cayugas, whose wants were well supplied with very little exertion of their own, as the river and lake abounded with fish, the woods with deer and smaller game, and the rich flats along the river yielded abundance of maize with very little cultivation. They were kind and inoffensive in their manner, and would take the traveller across the river, or part with their products for a very small reward.

"On my father's application for the lots he had chosen, he was told by the Council that the two at Ryerse Creek could only be granted conditionally, as they possessed very valuable water privileges, and that whoever took them must build both a flour and a saw-mill. My father accepted the conditions, secured the grant for his own lands, but left my mother's for a future day, and at once made arrangements for purchasing the necessary material for his mills—bolting cloths, mill-stones, iron, and screws, etc.—and then with a back load of twine, provisions for his journey, and his light fusee, he commenced his return home, where he arrived in good health, after an absence of twelve days. It is only the settlers in a new country that know what pleasure a safe return can give.

"Long Point now boasted four inhabitants in twenty miles, all settled on the lake shore. Their nearest neighbour, Peter Walker, at the mouth of Patterson's Creek [now Port Dover], was three miles distant by water and six by land. But from this time, 1795, for several years to come, there was a constant influx of settlers.

"Few days passed without some foot traveller asking a night's rest. The most of the travellers would set to work cheerfully for a few days, and assist in cutting roads, making sheds, sawing boards, or felling timber. The winter was now fast approaching, and much was to be done in preparation for the coming spring. My father succeeded in hiring five or six men for as many months. The great object was to get some land cleared, so that they could plant maize, potatoes, and garden vegetables for the next year's consumption. They had also to make preparations for sugar-making, by hollowing out troughs, one to each tree that was tapped, sufficiently large to hold the sap that would run in one day.

"Their evenings were devoted to netting the twine, which my father had purchased at Niagara for that purpose. My mother hired Barbara Proyer as a help, and time passed less heavily than she had imagined. My father had brought with him a sufficient quantity of flour and salt pork to last them a year; for fresh meat and fish he depended upon his gun and spear, and for many years they had always a good supply of both. My father had a couple of deer-hounds, and he used to go to the woods for his deer as a farmer would go to his fold for a sheep. Wild turkey and partridge were bagged with very little skill or exertion, and when the creek and lake were not frozen he need scarcely leave his own door to shoot ducks; but the great sporting ground—and it is still famous, and the resort of sporting gentlemen from Toronto, London, and indeed all parts of Canada West—is at the head of Long Point Bay. I have known him, several years later, return from there with twenty wild geese and one hundred ducks, the result of a few days' shooting. Pigeons were so plentiful, so late as 1810 and 1812, that they could be knocked down with poles. Great would have been the sufferings of the early settlers had not a kind and heavenly Father made this provision for them. But deer were not the only animals that abounded in the woods; bears and wolves were plentiful, and the latter used to keep up a most melancholy howl about the house at night, so near that my mother could scarcely be persuaded that they were not under the window. The cow, for security, was tied to the kitchen door every night; during the day she accompanied the men to the field they were chopping, and fed upon browse, which kept her fat and in good heart—the men making a point of felling a maple tree each morning for her special benefit. Their first sugar-making was not very beautiful, but they made sufficient of a very bad quality for the year's consumption. The potatoes gave a great yield; the maize was eaten and destroyed by the racoons; the apple and pear pips grew nicely, as did the peach, cherry, and plum stones, and my mother's balsams and few flowers from the new rich soil were beautiful.

"The summer of 1796 passed away with few incidents at Ryerse Creek, except the arrival of settlers.

"This year there was a total failure of the grain crops, not only in the new settlements, but throughout the United States. The Indians alone had preserved the maize from destruction by the racoons, squirrels and bears, which had invaded the settlements by thousands in search of food, as there were no nuts in the woods. The settlers had now to depend upon the Indians at the Grand River for their bread, and they continued to sell their maize at the same price as formerly, and during the year of scarcity never raised it. My father procured his year's supply, but there were no mills; the nearest ones were south of the Short Hills, seventy miles distant. Lucky was the family that owned a coffee mill in the winter of 1797. My father had a number of hands getting out timber for his mills and clearing land, and when they returned from their work in the evenings they used to grind in the coffee-mill maize for the next day's consumption. They soon learned the exact quantity required, and each man ground his own allowance, dividing that of the rest of the household amongst them. The meal was made into johnny-cakes, eaten hot for breakfast, cold for dinner, and the remainder in mush with milk for supper; and upon this fare they enjoyed perfect good health, were always cheerful, and apparently happy.

"The greatest good-feeling existed amongst the settlers, although they were of all nations and creeds and no creeds. Many of those families who had remained neutral during the revolution to save their property, and still retained their preference for the British Government, now sought homes in Canada, or assisted their sons to do so. The Quakers and Yunkers were amongst the best settlers, as they always brought some property with them, and were generally peaceable and industrious.

"Lands were so easily obtained, and so much encouragement was given by Government to settlers, that many of the half-pay officers and soldiers who had gone to New Brunswick found their way here, as well as many of the idle, discontented, dissipated, vicious and worthless of the United States. But at the Settler's Home all were made welcome; the meals, victuals and night's lodging were freely given to all, and for years after, to my recollection, during the summer season our house was never free from travellers; not that there was any particular merit due to our hospitality, for the man that would have closed his door against a traveller would have been looked upon as worse than a savage. My mother, this summer, had a dreadful alarm, which she used to describe to me with great feeling many years after. My little brother (George), for whose sake she had encountered all the privations and hardships of an early settler, gave rise to numerous fears and anxieties if he was out of her sight a few minutes. Endless misfortunes might befall him; he might be eaten up by wild beasts; or, he might be stolen by the Indians (their stealing children not being a very uncommon occurrence in those days, and during the summer season there used to be hundreds encamped on the beach); or, he might be drowned; or, he might wander away and be lost in the woods; and he would steal away and follow the men to the field when not closely watched. One day George was missing, and great was the commotion. Search was made everywhere, and George's name sounded through the forest in every direction. At last his hat was found in the creek. My mother sat perfectly quiet on the bank, with feelings not easily described, while my father probed the deep holes, and thrust his spear under the driftwood, expecting every time he drew it out to see George's red frock rise to the surface, when she heard with delight a little voice say 'Mamma,' from the opposite side of the creek. And there was George, with his little bare head peeping through the bushes, with his pet cat by his side. The reaction was too much for my mother; she fell fainting to the ground. George had lost his hat walking over a log which the men used as a bridge.

"The settlement was now considered in a most prosperous state; in a half-circle of twenty miles, probably there was a population of a hundred. People had ceased to count the families on their fingers, but no census was taken. The mills were fast advancing towards completion. Some few of the settlers grew wheat sufficient for their own consumption, and a little to sell; but the squirrels, racoons, and pigeons were very destructive to the grain of the early settlers. A dog that was trained for hunting the racoons, or a 'coon dog,' as they were called, was of great value, and the young lads, for many years after, used to make coon parties on fine moonlight nights, and go from farm to farm, killing those animals; and, although the necessity has long passed away, these parties still continue; and, though a virtue and kindness in the commencement, have ended in vice, and the coon parties now meet together to rob orchards and gardens of their best fruit and melons. One bitter cold night in February, 1798, the household was alarmed by the announcement of my mother's illness. No assistance was to be had nearer than three miles; no horses and no roads—only a track through the woods. Mr. Powel, who had just secured a lot near us, volunteered to go in search of Granny McCall, with the ox-team. After some weary hours' watching, the 'gee haw!' was heard on the return in the woods, and Mrs. McCall soon stood beside my mother, and very soon after the birth of a daughter was announced. That daughter is now making this record of the past. The settlement was now increasing so fast that the general voice was for a town, and my father was petitioned to lay one out at the mouth of Ryerse Creek, and was at last prevailed upon to do so, and called it Clarence. The first applicant for a lot was a Mr. Corklin, a very good blacksmith, a mechanic that was very much wanted in the settlement. He was a very intelligent young man for his class, and a great favourite with everyone, although he had one fault, that of indulging in strong drinks occasionally. He bargained for a lot, and put up a frame for a house. My father bought him a set of blacksmith's tools to commence with, and built him a shop. The next thing was a wife. My mother soon saw that a tender feeling was growing up between the young blacksmith and her nurse, a pretty girl, to whom she was much attached. My mother's advice was against the marriage, on account of his one bad habit; but of course she was not listened to, and they were married.

"A few months after the marriage, Mr. Corklin went in a log canoe to the head of the bay, on business, and was to return the next day; but day after day passed, and no Mr. Corklin appeared. At last the poor wife's anxiety became so great that a messenger was sent in search of him. He had been at Dr. Proyer's, but left the day he was expected home. The alarm was given, and search commenced along the lake shore. They found his canoe drifted on shore, laden with game, vegetables and a few apples, his hat, and an empty bottle that smelt of rum; but he was gone. They supposed that he had fallen overboard without upsetting the canoe. His body they could not find for days after, and his wife used to wander along the lake shore, from early dawn until dark, with the hope that she might find his body. One day she saw a number of birds on a drift log that was half out of the water. By the side of this log lay the remains of her husband. The eagles had picked his eyes out, but had only commenced their feast. This was the first death in the settlement. My father took back the lot, paid for the frame house, kept his smith's tools, and so ended his town.

"Upon more mature reflection, he decided that the neighbourhood of a small town would be the reverse of agreeable, as the first inhabitants would be those that were too idle to improve a farm for themselves, and bad habits are generally the attendants of idleness, and that he, in place of being the owner of all, would only be proprietor in common with all the idle and dissipated of a new country.

"On my father's arrival in the country he had been sworn in a justice of the peace for the London and Western districts—a very extensive jurisdiction over wild lands with few inhabitants; for those districts embraced all the lands between Lake Erie and Lake Huron, the Grand River, and Rivers Detroit and St. Clair. Courts were held at Sandwich, a distance of nearly two hundred miles, without roads, so that magistrates had to settle all disputes as they best could, perform all marriages, bury the dead, and prescribe for the sick. In addition to the medicine chest, my father purchased a pair of tooth-drawers, and learned to draw teeth, to the great relief of the suffering. So popular did he become in that way, that in after years they used to entreat him to draw their teeth in preference to a medical man—the one did it gratuitously, the other, of course, charged. My father put up two or three small log-houses which were tenanted by very poor people whose labour he required. From one of these houses my mother hired a nurse, Poll Spragge, who was a merry, laughing, 'who-cares' sort of girl. Upon my mother remarking the scantiness of her wardrobe, which was limited to one garment, a woollen slip that reached from the throat to the feet, Poll related a misfortune which had befallen her a short time before. She then, as now, had but the one article of dress, and it was made of buckskin, a leather something like chamois; and when it became greasy and dirty, her mother said she must wash it that afternoon, as she was going visiting, and that Poll must have her slip dry to put on before her father and brother returned from the field. During the interval, she must, of necessity, represent Eve before her fall. Poll had seen her mother, in the absence of soap, make a pot of strong ley from wood ashes, and boil her father's and brother's coarse linen shirts in it. She subjected her leather slip to the same process. We all know the effect of great heat upon leather. When Poll took her slip from the pot it was a shrivelled-up mass, partly decomposed by the strong ley. Poor Poll was in despair. She watched for the return of her family with no enviable feelings, and when she heard them coming she lifted a board and concealed herself in the potato hole, under the floor. Her mother soon discovered what had befallen Poll, and search was made for her. After a time, a feeble voice was heard from under the floor, and Poll was induced to come forth, by the promise of her mother's second petticoat, which was converted into the slip she then wore. She ended her recital with a merry laugh, and said now she had got service she would soon get herself clothes. But clothing was one of the things most difficult to obtain then. There were very few sheep in the settlement, and if a settler owned two or three, they had to be protected with the greatest care, watched by the children during the day that they might not stray into the woods, and at night penned near the house in a fold, built very high, to secure them from the bears and wolves, which could not always be done.

"There were instances of wolves climbing into pens that they could not get out of. On these occasions they did not hurt the sheep, but were found lying down in a corner like a dog. It is said that the first thought of a wolf on entering a fold is how he is to get out again; and if he finds that difficult, his heart fails him and he makes little effort.

"Wolves were the pests of the country for many years, and, even after they were partially expelled by the settlers, they used to make occasional descents upon the settlements, and many a farmer that counted his sheep by twenties at night, would be thankful if he could muster half a score in the morning. It was flax, the pedlar's pack, and buckskins that the early settlers had to depend upon for clothing when their first supply was run out. Deerskins were carefully preserved and dressed, and the men had trowsers and coats made of them. Though not very becoming, they were said to be very comfortable and strong, and suitable to the work they had to do. Chopping, logging, and clearing wild lands required strong clothing.

"One part of the early clearing was always appropriated to flax, and after the seed was in the ground the culture was given up to the women. They had to weed, pull and thrash out the seeds, and then spread it out to rot. When it was in a proper state for the brake, it was handed over to the men, who crackled and dressed it. It was again returned to the women, who spun and wove it, making a strong linen for shirts and plaid for their own dresses. Almost every thrifty farmhouse had a loom, and both wife and daughters learnt to weave. The pedlar's pack supplied their little finery, the pack generally containing a few pieces of very indifferently printed calicoes at eight and ten shillings, New York currency, a yard; a piece of book-muslin at sixteen and eighteen shillings a yard, and a piece of check for aprons at a corresponding price; some very common shawls and handkerchiefs, white cotton stockings to match, with two or three pieces of ribbon, tape, needles, pins and horn combs; these, with very little variety, used to be the contents of the pedlar's pack. Opening the pack caused much more excitement in a family then than the opening of a fashionable shopkeeper's show-room does at the present day.

"About this time, 1799, a great number of old soldiers, who had served under and with my father, found their way to the Long Point Settlement. One of these soldiers had been taken prisoner with my father at Charleston, and when they were plundered of everything he managed to conceal a doubloon in his hair. With this he supplied my father's wants, who was wounded and suffering. My father now exchanged with him one of his choice lots, that he might be in the settlement and near a mill; and took his location, which was far back in the woods. My uncle [Joseph Ryerson], and several other half-pay officers, came from New Brunswick to visit my father. The pleasure of seeing those loved and familiar faces, and again meeting those who had fought the same battles, shared the same dangers, and endured the same hardships, fatigues, and privations for seven long years, and had the same hopes and fears, and the bitter mortification of losing their cause, was indeed great. How many slumbering feelings such a reunion awakened! how many long tales of the past they used to tell, of both love and war! Those officers that came from New Brunswick to visit the country all returned, after a few years, as settlers. The climate of Canada was much preferable, and as an agricultural country was very superior. The population was now becoming so great that the Government thought it necessary to have all the male population, between the ages of sixteen and sixty, enrolled in the Militia. My father was requested to organize a regiment, and to recommend those whom he thought, from their intelligence, good conduct, and former service, most entitled to commissions. He was appointed Lieutenant-Colonel of Militia and Lieutenant of the County, a situation that was afterwards done away with. This duty of selecting officers gave rise to the first ill-natured feelings that had been exhibited towards him in the settlement. Every man thought he ought to be a captain at the least, and was indignant that my father did not appreciate his merits. Some threatened to stone him; others, to shoot him. The more moderate declared they would not come to his mill, although there was no other within seventy miles. John McCall did not care for my father; he would be a captain without his assistance. He built a large open boat and navigated her for several years, and gloried in the designation of Captain McCall. But, notwithstanding all opposition, the regiment of militia was formed. They used to meet one day in the year for company exercise, and there was a general muster on the 4th of June, the King's birthday, for a general training. These early trainings presented a strange mixture. There were a few old officers, with their fine military bearing, with their guns and remains of old uniforms; and the old soldier, from his upright walk and the way he handled his gun, could easily be distinguished, though clothed in home-spun and buckskin, with the coarse straw hat. The early settlers all had guns of some description, except the very juvenile members, who used to carry canes to represent guns. Those trainings used to be looked forward to with intense interest by all the boys of the neighbourhood, and afforded subjects of conversation for the ensuing year. It was no easy thing in that day to find a level piece of ground that was tolerably clear from stumps sufficiently large to serve for their general trainings.