Moode Farewell, the owner and keeper of this hotel, was the father of a numerous family, many of whom and of their descendants have risen to high places both in Canada and the United States. He was a man of boundless energy, pluck and endurance, and amassed a considerable fortune.
About eight miles westerly from Farewell’s was Lynde’s tavern, on the Kingston Road. Between these two points, on the way from York to Montreal, the Government had frequent occasion to have despatches passed during the war. As he had promised Governor Simcoe on coming into Upper Canada in 1794, Roger Conant aided the Government, even if he did not fight for it, by carrying despatches between these two points whenever he was called on so to do. His house stood very near the shore of the lake, a new and larger one having been constructed near the first. Along the lake shore, past this house, the heavy freight and military supplies were drawn.
Frequently during the continuance of the war of 1812 a midnight summons came to him, first a knock at the door, and then the demand, “Open in the King’s name!”
“In a moment, gentlemen,” was the answer, and as soon as ordinary garb could be assumed the officers were admitted.
“Get your oxen, sir, and draw a gun to York” came the command.
“Certainly, gentlemen, but can’t you wait a moment, that I may feed the oxen before setting out?”
By placing food and good cheer before the officers and men sufficient time usually was gained, but after once starting out no stop would be permitted until the fort at York was reached, about thirty-five miles westerly along the beach, the intervening streams being crossed by wading. Sometimes the freight to be hauled consisted of other military supplies.
Rough and formal as the soldiers were, my grandfather said the officers were invariably fine men, and he was always well paid in coin when he reached the fort at York. On one occasion, on arrival with a gun, the commissary officer came to him and asked if he would sell a yoke of his oxen. Nothing loth, he consented £14 (Halifax) were handed him, and the oxen became beef for the garrison. This was a very lucrative trip, with the pay for hauling and for the oxen, and the country served at the same time.
The records of the time are not without the humorous side. The following recount some of the tricks of the soldiers, always ready to add variety to their bill-of-fare:
Skirting along the shore, and pulling up their boats at night, came some troops on their way to Toronto, who were billeted to lodge with a settler for a night. Now, this settler had a number of hogs, and on arising next morning he missed one from the lot. Supposing the soldiers had stolen it, he at once complained to the captain in command, who instituted a thorough search among all the boats, but all to no purpose—the hog was not to be found, and the command set off. Upon landing the following night after the day’s row the missing hog came to light. The captain, puzzled to know how it could be so successfully concealed, offered pardon to the offenders if they would only tell how they concealed it. Taken at his word, they showed the captain how they had opened the hog down the front its whole length, and placed it like a sheath on the keel of the boat, so that the water thoroughly hid it, and nailed it there. Of course, no one thought of looking into the water under the boat for the hog. It would be superfluous to add that the captain had fresh pork for supper that night.