Canada and the British immigrant

by Emily P. Weaver

In a hundred ways, besides the determination not to accept any limitation of their political liberty, they showed their force and energy of character. The task that faced Canada’s first British pioneers was more strenuous than that which has faced any pioneers since, though the opening and subduing of a new land to the uses of civilized man is always a task that tests to the utmost the manhood and womanhood of those who essay it.

The land was thickly covered with huge trees, and in many places the soil, which the sun’s rays could scarcely ever reach through the shadowy verdure of the woods, was cold and wet and swampy. When the Loyalists came, there were no roads in Upper Canada or New Brunswick. There were no steamboats on the lakes or rivers, no railroads even dreamed of. The monarchs of the forest appeared to those first settlers in the light of enemies, to be put out of the way by axe and fire as speedily as possible, and in many districts the land was savagely stripped bare of woods, in a fashion that those who have come after cannot help regretting. It was only the ashes of the majestic maples and beeches and walnuts which had any value in the eyes of the pioneers. Made into potash these would fetch a little ready money, hardly to be obtained in those early days for any other commodity. Even for wheat, only “store-pay” could usually be obtained, and but a small allowance of that, for the great world’s markets were utterly inaccessible to Canada’s early farmers, and the local demand was very small.

It was the age of home industries, when every man was by turns builder of his own log-house; cabinet-maker of such rude attempts at chairs and tables as he could turn out; farmer of patches of grain amongst the slowly rotting stumps of forest trees; roadmaker, of ways “slashed” through the bush and stretches of corduroy over the swamps.

Meanwhile his wife was not only dressmaker, but spinner and weaver of stout “homespun”; not only housekeeper, but maker of candles and soap; not only cook of the daily meals, but baker of bread, when flour could be got, and contriver of some substitute for it when pounded maize or Indian meal had to be used instead.

And these lists might be extended indefinitely. The people drank tea made from a wild plant growing along the edges of the swamps, and sweetened it with sugar made by boiling the sap drawn in the spring from their own maple trees. Such articles as spoons were cut from bass wood. Shoes were fashioned by the father of the family from the skins of the animals he killed. The arrival, or the making, of the first wheeled vehicle in some settlements was an event, the only kind of conveyance used at first being a rude “sled” drawn by oxen.

Chapters might be written on the means by which the Loyalists came to Canada. Often their journeys from their old homes took weeks. Many came by sea from New York to the Maritime Provinces, and a piteous sight they presented, on their arrival, in worn and often positively ragged clothing. Others came in canoes or heavier wooden boats, making long roundabout voyages up one stream and down another to Lake Ontario, but in places having to carry both boats and goods across a long “portage.” Yet others, of the more fortunate class, who had saved something from the wreck of their fortunes, travelled in big covered wagons, which served for tents at night for the women and children; and some brought in a cow or two as well as the horses or oxen that drew their vehicles.

Many of the Loyalists had lost all, and depended for their new start in life entirely on the bounty of the government. Others had some means of subsistence left, not a few having served as officers during the Revolutionary War and drawing half-pay. They were of all classes, from ex-officials of the revolted colonies, clergymen, doctors, lawyers, and merchants to private soldiers, labourers, Indians and even negro slaves.

Many of them were men and women of good education, and one of the most difficult problems to be faced in the new settlements was the education of the children. Soon many tiny log school-houses were put up, and the demand for teachers was so great that anyone who had a smattering of knowledge had a good chance to be put in charge of a little school. Often, however, it fell to the mother to give her boys and girls their first lessons in reading and writing by the hot light of the great fires that roared up the chimneys on a winter’s evening.

Books in the settlements were few, but generally well read, newspapers were non-existent, and there are traditions in more than one settlement of an obliging postmaster, who used to carry the whole “mail” of a district about with him in his hat, so that he might distribute the letters as occasion offered.

Amongst these pioneers laboured missionaries of different denominations, whose experience of toilsome journeys and perils by land and water resembled those of the Apostles. In canoes, on foot or on horseback they tried courageously to serve the needs of parishes that are now counties; and great was the rejoicing when at last some little log-church was built, though it might have no seats but rough boards set on short pieces of tree trunks.