chapter xxi.
a dinner at rideau hall in the thirties.
1837.
mr. and mrs. george morrison and the aged chief were among the guests at a small dinner party given by the "laird of bytown," the hon. thomas mackay, at his new residence, rideau hall, in honor of john mctaggart, c.e., who had returned to the new world to visit old friends.
hon. thomas mackay.
hon. thomas mackay.
the hall, which had been erected on his estate of thirteen hundred acres, midway between the banks of the rideau and the ottawa, was a large cut-stone building with semi-tower front. the building itself, the well-kept grounds, the imposing avenues with their porters' lodges, the conservatories, excelled anything in canada at that time.
it was spring. in the tall trees of the avenues, which seemed to shut out the sky, the birds were awaking to life and love. a little brook gurgled over mossy stones in the quiet glen by the wayside, on the banks of which, soft with moss and pine needles, the trilliums grew so thickly that they appeared like a bank of snow which had escaped the rays of the april sun.
there was great diversity of color and form in the trees. the pines stood erect, flinging their rough limbs above the young leaves of the deciduous trees below. the white birch and trembling poplar adorned the glen with pale gray or light green leaves, whose delicacy of tint contrasted finely with the dark masses of the fir trees and the lively green of maple and wild cherry.
such was the home over which presided the noble laird and his gracious wife, and which, even in those early days, was a centre of hospitality.
among the guests were chief mcnab, who had left the highlands of scotland with a numerous clan, and taken up his abode with them in a township which had been granted to him on the banks of lake de chats, about thirty miles from bytown.
the guests scanned him with a peculiarly keen interest as he entered the room preceded by his piper playing, "the hacks o' cromdale." he was dressed in full highland costume, with kilts and scarf of red and green tartan, and wore a queue neatly tied with a knot of ribbon.
captain andrew wilson, of ossian hall, on the banks of the rideau, was another guest. he had retired from the navy and posed as lawyer, judge, farmer, and author, his title to the latter consisting in three volumes on naval history. he held weekly courts at bytown, and was regarded by the people of the town as a man of great importance. to see the captain on the bench with his anchor-buttoned coat and his old-fashioned spectacles, attending gravely to the examination of witnesses, was ludicrous. of this he was perfectly sensible, but it was an amusement to him. he was one of those men who would have liked to have the whole world following after him.
rev. mr. cruikshanks, pastor of st. andrews church, the first church in bytown, and rev. s. h. stone, rector of christ church, completed the list of invited guests.
mctaggart, or "mac," as he was familiarly called, the guest of the evening and the hero of the hour, related many amusing incidents which had come under his notice while clerk of the public works.
"on one occasion," he said, "while returning by steamer from lachine, an oddly-dressed person sailed along with us. he had a short-tailed blue coat with metal buttons that once had been clear, but the salt spray of the atlantic ocean had dimmed their lustre, a woollen-striped, double-breasted waistcoat, while a pair of velveteen pantaloons graced his hurdies. he was a forward kind of little man from the south of scotland, who had paid little attention to the cut of his whiskers, and the hair of his head seemed to furnish a good cover for game of a peculiar kind.
"the tone of my voice, or some other scotch keepsake, drew him near me, when the following confab took place:
"'i hae surely seen your face some gate afore, mon, but whar it's mair than i can cleverly tell.'
"'at the fair o' minnyvive, man?' quoth i. 'are not ye'—there i hung fire. he helped me out by adding:
"'the laird o' birrboy.'
"'exactly,' i replied, and he believed or seemed to believe me, although i had never seen his face in my life before.
"as the steamboat neared the lake of two mountains, on the ottawa, giving the passengers a peep at the wilderness, 'what a lang planting!' he exclaimed. 'i wonner wha's laird o't?'
"i replied in a kind of knowing manner that he would see the laird presently, and shortly we came upon an indian encampment by the bank of the river. the indians were busy among their canoes, skinning some deer and muskrats they had caught.
"'yonder, birrboy, yonder's the laird!' quoth i, pointing to an indian chief with the feathers of wild birds stuck round in his hat, and long silver earrings hanging down on his shoulders.
"'bless me!' said birrboy, with open mouth, 'and yon's the laird?'
"'it's all that's for him,' i continued, 'and yonder's the gardener coming after him.' this was another indian with a branch of a tree on his shoulder for the fire.
"'bless me! he's a queer laird that, and is that ane of his seats?'
"i explained that it was, and that he had many such like up and down the 'lang planting.'
"'what wad the bodies about minnyvive think if they saw sic lairds and gairdeners coming up the fair as thae, mon?' he exclaimed. 'i'll be hanged gin they wadna creep in aneath the beds wi' fear, like nell coskerie in a thunner-storm.'
"landing on the shore at a place called chute of 'blendo,' we came upon pieces of junk pine split up in thin pieces.
"'an' what ca' ye thae now?' inquired the scotchman.
"'shingles,' i replied. 'the people of this country cover their houses with them.'
"'hech, mon, and are thae the canada sclate?' he returned. 'ye hae queer names for things here. there's a shoe like a swine trough ye ca' the saboo, then there's a shoe ye ca' the morgason, a kin o' thing like a big splenchan the bodies row their feet in. deil hang me, if ever i heard o' sic names. i'll never bring my mooth into the wye o' pronooncing them.'
"proceeding up the river we came near to the public works.
"'and is yon a timmer clauchan we see?' pointing to bytown, quoth the laird.
"'ay, yonder are the shanties,' i informed him, 'of a village the people are busy building.'
"'ay, there again, noo,' he replied, 'what a queer name ye hae for timmer houses.'
"i explained that the first rough house that a settler built was called a shanty; the next, which was more genteel, was called a log-house; and the third and last was a clapboard house.
"he expressed some astonishment at this, and wondered 'if i could recommend him to a clout of land ony gate aboot that he could big a bit shanty on an' tak' a blaw o' the pipe in wi' comfort.'
"i informed him that land was by no means scarce, and that he might get a farm for an auld sang. 'ay, mon,' i said, 'a farm larger than birrboy for an auld sang.'
"this seemed to please him much, but he said: 'i hae nae siller, ye see, an' what's the use of a farm without it? i maun e'en see to get into the public works gaen on here and see to lay by a triffle. i wush ye wad be sae kind as to tell me how to act that i might find some employment.'
"'go to the gentleman over the way,' said i, pointing to our military commander, who was out bustling about the works.
"'that man with the red coat and the cocked hat?' he inquired.
"'the same,' i said, 'and say to him that there was a man sent you to his honor who thought you might be worth four shillings and sixpence a day as a squad-master of laborers.'
"he thanked me and went off and told his story. the colonel quickly guessed who had sent him, so the laird of birrboy was regularly installed in his situation and seemed to understand his duty.
"about a month afterwards birrboy came to me with a long face and said i had been gude, very gude to him, but thae was still a wee kindness i could do him in a quiet way.
"'what is it?' i inquired.
"'why the wife, silly body, is down in montreal, and as i hae a bit shanty bigged here, i wad like tae gang doon an' bring her up, if ye had nae objection.'
"to this i replied that i would have none, but that he must apply to the same gentleman as formerly and see what he had to say in the matter.'
"'ay, but there's that in it, i doubt he'll score me oot o' the books when i'm awa'.'
"he went to the colonel and asked the favor to bring his wife, which of course was granted. off went the laird as proud as a dog with two tails, but when he came to the bank of the river to the steamboat landing, the said bateau de feu, as the french call her, had gone to the other side of the ottawa to take in part of her cargo. there was no boat about but the government boat, in which were colonel by with some ladies and military officers about to take a pleasure sail up to the falls. this boat had pushed off, but birrboy waved his hat and cried:
"'hoot, mon, come hither!'
"the rowers rested on their oars and he was asked what he wanted.
"'i want a bit cast, mon, to the ither side o' the water to the steamboat.'
"someone replied out of the boat that it was impossible,' as they were going on a pleasure sail and could not be troubled with him.
"'hoot, mon!' continued the persevering scotchman, 'it will tak ye nought out o' yer wye to throw a puir body oot on the pint as ye gae by.'
"'confound you,' replied the colonel as they pushed in the boat, 'if you are not a scotchman in truth i am in ignorance.'
"how joyfully did he take his seat among the officers and ladies, smiling to himself with all the humor of dunscore depicted in his countenance. i looked and laughed after my worthy countryman, and have not been so fortunate as to have seen him since."
"tell us how you celebrated your first christmas in canada," said mr. mackay.
"i well remember how i forgot to celebrate my first christmas in this country," replied mac. "we were taking a flying level* between rafting bay and the rideau—a distance of about four miles. taking a level of this extent at home would not have occupied more than a day, but in a dark, dense wood the subject was quite altered, and the surveyor has to change his home system altogether; for instance, if we get upon a hill in britain we may see the natural lead of the land, but here in the wilderness you have to grope for this like a blind man.
* a rough guess to a foot of the rise or fall of the country above any fixed spot.
"we cut holes through the thickets of these dismal swamps, and sent a man half a mile before us to blow a horn, keeping to one place until those in the rear come up, so that by the compass and the sound, there being no sun, we were able to grope out our course.
"the weather was extremely cold, and the screws of the theodolite would scarcely move. when night came on we sent two of the axemen to rig a shanty by the side of a swamp. we generally camped near a swamp, for water could be had to drink and to cook with, and the hemlock boughs grew more bushy in such places, and were easily obtained to cover the shanty; and, besides, we generally found dry cedar there, which makes excellent firewood. when we arrived at the camp we found a very comfortable house set up by our friends, with a blazing fire in front of it. we lay down on the bushy hemlock, holding pork before the fire on wooden prongs, each man roasting for himself, while plenty of tea was thrown into a kettle of boiling water. the tin mug, our only tea cup, went round till all had drunk, then it was filled again, and so on, while each with his bush knife cut toasted pork on slices of bread.
"then we went to sleep, and, after having lain an hour or so on one side, someone would cry—'spoon!' the order to turn to the other, which was often a disagreeable one if a spike of tree root or such substance stuck up beneath ribs. reclining thus like a parcel of spoons, our feet to the fire, we have found the hair of our heads often frozen to the place where we lay. for several days together did we lie in these wild places. in dow's great swamp, one of the most dismal places in the wilderness, did five irishmen, two englishmen, two americans, one frenchman, and one scotchman, hold their merry christmas in 1826, or rather forgot to hold it at all."
"do you remember your experiences in prospecting for iron ore in the mountains?" asked the chief, who was one of mac's warmest friends and admirers.
"i had been in canada only a few months," he said, "when i happened to hear from various sources that mountains of iron ore existed in the range north of hull, and the chief, mackay, colonel by, and i secured a guide, and took our way on horseback through the forest to inspect the said ore bed that had hindered the magnetic needle of many a surveyor's compass from traversing properly. we mounted at the columbian hotel and away we went, our guide having provisions, axes, hammers, etc., in a bag on the saddle with him. having cantered away several miles through cleared land, we began to enter the wilderness, and, as i am no great horseman, i soon found my eyes and nose beginning to be scratched off from the brushwood lashing and rubbing against them, and soon, alas! i found myself comfortably landed on my back on the trunk of an old tree that had fallen many years ago.
"on looking round i saw my quiet pony thinking for a wonder what had become of me, one of his forefeet having trod out the crown of a good new thirty shilling hat i had bought in london.
"my companions gathered round, but could not prevail on me to mount again; the guide led the horse, and i trudged along on foot. getting rather weary, however, and seeing the comparatively easy manner in which my friends got along, in spite of the thick brushwood and old trees that lay stretched over one another at all angles, i mounted again, but soon found it almost impossible to follow my companions without getting myself bruised in all quarters, and possibly some of my bones broken.
"they had got about one hundred yards before me, and halloed to me to follow. i exerted myself to the utmost, but one of my legs getting into the cleft of a small tree, i was thrown off the horse's back and left among the briars again. bawling out, they waited until i came up. none of them but mr. mackay, as good a scotchman as lives, laughed, and i was almost inclined to fling my boot at him. being a good horseman, and used to the rough roads of canada, he could keep his seat in the saddle in a way, but the skin of his legs was partly peeled like my own, and his clothes torn in various places.
"after travelling a great way we got to a stream which the guide said had its origin in the iron mountain. proceeding up the stream to its source, we at last came upon the famous ore-bed, but through excessive fatigue, after having taken a little refreshment, i fell asleep, as did all my companions but one, the enterprising lord of the manor of hull, indian chief, colonel of the 2nd battalion, etc., etc. even colonel by, with bone and muscle and sinew like wrought-iron, who can endure anything and eat anything, even to raw pork, was fagged out, and slept like the rest of us.
"the chief kindly left us undisturbed for an hour, when he roused us. traversing these wild mountains in all directions, we were much pleased with the immense specimens of iron ore that appeared everywhere. mr. mackay wielded the hammer with masonic skill, and laid the rich ore-beds open to inspection. at one place the mountains are not more than two miles from the first falls of the gatineau, where machinery and engines could be erected at moderate rate, as water-power may be had to any extent from the falls. we found an abundance of hardwood, particularly maple, which makes the best charcoal of any. we concluded that this was the best place for iron works in canada.
"we at length thought of returning to the hotel. night came on, and in the forenoon of the next day i found myself alive at the falls of the chaudiere. the troubles i had undergone were amply repaid. my bruises recovered, the skin came over my arms and legs, but i shall never try to explore the wilds of canada on horseback again."
"have you ever tried the experiment, mr. mcnab?" asked the good-natured scotchman.
"sir," he replied, disdainfully, "i thought you had known better. nothing but mcnab, if you please—'mr.' does not belong to me."
mr. mctaggart expressed his apologies, and there was a lull in the conversation.
"you have quite a fine church," said the chief, after a time, addressing the scottish pastor.
"yes," he replied, "we are indebted to our host for that church. he built it at his own expense while the masons of the public works were awaiting orders from the war department in england, to widen the locks."
"why did you call it after st. andrew?" said the chief. "i never could understand why scotchmen seem to have a monopoly of that saint, and episcopalians a monopoly of the name of christ, and roman catholics of st. peter and st. joseph, in naming their churches. st. andrew was one of the least known of the honored twelve, and why he should have gained and retained such a grip of scotland and her scattered children is a mystery to me."
"there, mr. cruikshanks," said the laird, "is a problem for you to solve, for i must admit it is a question beyond my ken."
"the only reason that i can find why st. andrew is so closely connected with scotland," replied mr. cruikshanks, whose speech was not a little infected with the dialect of southern scotland, but is here rendered in modern english for the sake of the readers, "is found in most ancient history—it may be legendary. it is this:
"faithful to the farewell commission of his master, whom he saw ascend from the brow of olivet and received into heaven, andrew spent his missionary life in scythia and achaia, and in patr?, one of its principal cities, he founded a branch of the church, the success of which brought down upon him the vengeance of the heathen governor, who caused him to be crucified. he was tied to a cross of olive wood in the form of the letter x. he endured the prolonged agonies of hunger and thirst and pain for many days, until at last the strong heart gave its last beat and his spirit fled to the side of the glorified christ.
"a woman of wealth and rank obtained possession of the body. the congregation with sorrowing hearts buried it in the little church. there it lay in undisturbed repose during the long stretch of three hundred years.
"wholesale massacres swept myriads of christians into martyr graves until a christian emperor came to the throne, who ordered a great and gorgeous temple to be erected in memory of the apostle in constantinople.
"constantine commanded the presiding presbyter"——
"bishop, you mean," interrupted the rector.
"presbyter, sir," said the scotchman, firmly, "of the little church at petr? to deliver up the body of the martyred apostle that it might rest till the glorious resurrection morn in the grandest mausoleum that imperial hands could build for it.
"three days before the messengers arrived, regulus, the presbyter, dreamed that a messenger from a greater than constantine ordered him to open the tomb of the saint and to remove part of its contents and hide them in another place. this he did, and the remainder of the body was removed to constantinople.
"some time afterwards regulus had another dream, when the same messenger appeared to him and warned him to depart from petrae, and to take with him the bones which he had concealed and to sail to a port to which god would safely guide him.
"regulus obeyed, and was accompanied by sixteen presbyters and three devout deaconesses, who set sail not knowing whither to steer their course.
"tossed up and down in adria, driven by the wind through the dreaded pillars of hercules, dashed hither and thither in the surging bay of biscay, whirled northward by furious hurricanes over the english channel and the german ocean, they found themselves shipwrecked in a bay, afterwards known as the bay of st. andrews, on the east of scotland. all else but the precious relics lost, they with difficulty gained the shore.
"on the spot where they landed they built a church, taking for their plan the church at petrae, and in it they reverently deposited the martyr's bones and called the church and place st. andrews.
"dense woods surrounded them, infested with boars and wolves. the barbarians extended to them a hearty welcome. regulus, afterwards known in scottish history as st. raol, told them of st. andrew and of his faith in the incarnate god who had come to seek and to save the lost. they listened and believed, and hangus, the king, with all his subjects shook off druidical superstition and became christian, and from st. andrews streamed through the dark places of the land the true light of the world—the gospel of christ as st. andrew had learned it from the master himself.
"that, sir," he said, addressing the chief, "is the reason why we have named the new kirk st. andrews."
"interesting—most interesting," said the laird, who had moved back from the table and sat clasping his right knee with his hands. "the learned son of auld scotia has answered the first part of the chief's question, and we shall look to the rector to explain why the episcopalians seem to enjoy a monopoly of the name of 'christ church' in designating their places of worship."
for a moment the cultured young englishman looked bewildered and confused, for the question had come to him suddenly and unexpectedly. closing his eyes he repeated the question slowly and thoughtfully, "why do churchmen like to confer upon their places of worship the name of christ?"
"there passes before my mind the vision of a world," he said, still keeping his eyes closed, "which came from the hands of the creator in a state of perfection and loveliness—a world of spotless purity, a world where all was peace and love, and joy and satisfaction—a heaven of bliss and of ecstasy. a dark shadow crept over it—the shadow of sin—which was soon followed by the darker and more awful shadow of death. its women were subjected to a life of suffering and sorrow, a life of bondage and tyranny; its men to a life of slavery. the whole creation began to groan and travail in pain. life was not worth living nor death worth dying, until a light from heaven shone through the darkness, dispelling the gloom, bringing salvation to sorrowing, sin-burdened souls and hope of complete redemption, when the body shall be raised incorruptible, when the briars and thorns shall disappear, and even the animals shall be emancipated from the bondage and cruelty of man.
"it was the christ who turned darkness into light. it was the christ who brought life out of death. it was the christ who lifted woman from the depths of degradation and placed her in a realm of love and hope. it was the christ who gave the weary toiler rest.
"have we not cause to bless god for 'his inestimable love in the redemption of the world by our lord jesus christ?'
"that is presbyterianism," said mrs. mackay.
"and that is episcopalianism," replied the rector.
"we recognize the christ as the head of the church," said the laird.
"and so do we," said the rector, "and if i had the naming of ten thousand churches, sir, i would call each one 'christ church,' and i would have a cross on each somewhere to remind the people of the fact that he left the heaven of glory to suffer and die for them, that he might bring them into the fulness of joy which he originally designed for them."
"you surprise me," said the laird, "for i had come to regard the established church of england as dead in formalism. i have not found so great faith before—no, not in the church of england."
"then you had better become a little more intimately acquainted with it," good-naturedly rejoined the young rector, and the conversation turned into other topics.
