Letters From Canada

ARTICLE: LETTERS FROM CANADA. Authentic letters from Upper
         Canada; with an Account of Canadian Field Sports.
         By T.W. Magrath, Esq.  The Etchings by Samuel Lover,
         Esq. Edited by the Rev. T. Radcliff, Dublin; William
         Curry, Jun. and Company; Simpkin and Marshall,
         London; and Oliver and Boyd, Edinburgh. - 1833.

    Canada! we never meet that word, without feeling a rush
of combined sensations to our heart; we scarce knew whether
pleasurable or otherwise.  A flowery scene rises before our
eyes, and all the witchery of that noble land causes like a
summer gleam across our soul. Yet not unmingled with pain, do
we experience these feelings, the memory of friends, driven
from this nice happy land, now settled in peace with their
families, but for ever lost to us, comes to our mind, and
then we turn to the mighty operations in the state, which
have thus exiled many thousands of our brethren from their
English home, and in long and gloomy train uprise our wrongs
and sufferings - but we will not continue the picture, we do
not intend to be learned in this month, and we have no need
to be gloomy or desponding, so drawing a veil over our
sketch, let us turn to subjects more immediately connected
with our title, and fain are we to say, that he must be a
thorough crying philosopher, who can read some of these
"Canadian Tours", &c. without hearty laughter. But the causes
of this mirth are by no means the same in all. At one time we
take up a volume written by some blockhead of scribbling
notoriety, and at his dull vague theories we cannot help
laughing, and anon we get some semi-political essay, which
with its crude fantasies, is only prevented from being
mischevious by its utter inanity; there we sit, and laughing
view the hubbub created by the follies promulgated by the
Martineau class, who with a smattering of technical terms,
"Corn, currency, capital," and all the cant of trades'
unions, waste paper, pens and ink, and their own time - the
least valuable of the lot - and come before the public as
writers on population and political economy. Heaven save the
work, each in his turn exclaiming, "Eureka," as he offers
some vamped p      anacea for all human ills, and as each sinks to
darkness again, they leave us the admiration of naught save
their
     "Dull dexterity of groping well."

    Enough of these; let us turn to the other fund of
laughter, of which the present volume affords no mean
specimen. On comparison with other works written on this very
popular subject, the reader will find that, although you may
#PAGE 2
laugh with Tiger Dunlop and Mr. Magrath, yet you much more
frequently laugh at the writers who, in the words of Hall,
"take walk and make book." (But who differed, oh, ye gods,
from his volumes?) Who can restrain a guffaw when we find
descriptions of scenery which have been voted indescribable?
But putting all these aside, and leaving them to their
probable fate, let us show what may be really profitable or
amusing reading for the public. Of the latter class may be
ranked such men as Howieson, Stuart, Evans, and many others,
who profess little further than giving a book of travels, and
who do that well; but with the former class, the profitable,
we have more immediately to do now, and this is divided into
two subdivisions that emprising information for the majority
of emigrants, the poorer ranks of settlers, and that
which, as in the work before us, is addressed more directly
to the higher grades of persons.  Of the former of these, we
have abundance, and we have in a former number, treated of
such, but of the latter, we had none, until this present
volume was sent before the public.  It was a great deficiency,
and has been amply filled up. It had been allowed on all
hands that it was a desideratum, that those of the higher
rank about to emigrate, should obtain information.  The works
published gave ample instructions to those who could leave a
meal and potatoes, but to the civilised family it was an
unbuoyed channel, and they who sailed it were on all sides
liable to fraud, accident, and expense; in proportion,
therefore, to the want of the information hitherto, should
the public appreciate it when offered them.
    This volume comes before the public under peculiar
circumstances; it is not the work of any one pen; one part of
the letters are from a family, settled for some time; the
rest from the members of the Editor's family, who sailed from
Ireland, and thus we have the circumstancial detail of the
voyage and land journeys at the same time that the farming
operations of the located family are laid before us.  Now
though we are spared the dull dry account of a Canadian
diary, and are not burdened with "trees cut and girdled.
ditto burned" &c., yet we have enough to show what the
requisite proceedings actually are.   We said that more than
one pen had been employed in this work, and to this does it
owe much of the very pleasing diversity of style, and we turn
from the tender regrets of the lady to the manly hopes of the
gentleman, and again to the rich and vivid sporting letters
of Mr. Magrath.  We have also more than once recognised our
old friend Martin Doyle.  The first letter contains an account
of the expenses incurred in the voyage and the journey
through the country to the settlement, the total for which,
#PAGE 3
for nine individuals. is only 135 pounds; then we have lists
of provender, not bad in their way; then the expenses in the
Bush, as the uncleared forest is called, including stock of
all kinds; in short, it appears that this lot of settlers
were located, for little more than 400 pounds. We shall not
offend the ladies eyes with the list of gentleman's apparel,
but nevertheless, it is very useful for them to know what
sort of materials may fall beneath their delicate fingers,
which must do all work, from making a fire to sewing a new
collar on the Sunday shirt.  Some excellent advice to go out
with a wife, and not for one; they must be scarce
commmodities there, and a young widow with a parcel of brats,
- which here are the plague, but there are the pride of life,
- would surely meet encouragement. Some hints on the voyage,
as not to put yourself to a month's additional tossing, by
engaging a berth in a cheap vessel, with as good sailing
qualities as a beef barrel, but to get one of the prime
liners from Liverpool, where the bill of fare is such as to
tempt us to go only for amusements, wines, including claret
and champagne, and board and bed for thirty-five pounds.
Marvellous!
    The second letter is highly useful and interesting, and
gives a most graphic account of the raising [sic] a log
house, which after all is no bad roost. We suppose the
settler at York, U.C.[Upper Canada?], and paying a visit to
the Commissioner of Crown Lands, to enquire what lands are to
be disposed of:
    "Being there informed that he can purchase certain lots
of wild land in an unsettled part of the country, at from
five to ten shillings an acre, he next proceeds to inspect
their situation and quality. And with this view he travels in
a public conveyance as far as is practicable, say 15 miles,
and hires a wagon to carry him from thence to the settlement
nearest the land he wishes to inspect, say five miles, and
then procures an intelligent person acquainted with the
township, lots, &c. to act as his guide, with whom he sets
forward for the land on foot; and finding that instead of
performing the remaining ten miles. and of reaching it, as he
may have expected, in a few hour's walk, he will, perhaps for
the first time in his life, be obliged to dispense with the
luxury of a good bed, and dispose himself to rest as he best
may, upon one composed of the boughs of the hemloc [hemlock -
a tree of the fir kind?] in the small shanty [the first and
most contracted habitation a settler forms?] of a new
settler.
    "On getting up next morning, not perfectly refreshed;
after drinking his tea without the agreeable accompaniment of
#PAGE 4
cream, or even milk, he proceeds with his guide, who,
instructed by the index posts of the surveyor of the
township, at length exclaims "this is the lot;" - when, the
weary emigrant, seating himself upon a log, and looking round
him, ponders on the impracticability of bringing his family
so far into the bush, and to a lot perhaps badly supplied
with water, and covered with pines (an invariable indication
of inferior land) he decides upon further inspection, and at
length fixes on a lot, under more favourable circumstances,
upon which to found his future habitation and his home.
    "He retraces his steps with altered feelings; his
thoughts occupied by pleasing anticipations of the future
improvement of his estate, and is received at the
shanty he had left, with all that hospitality which
characterises the new settler, who will share his his last
loaf with his expected neighbour.
    "The emigrant returns to York, concludes the purchase of
his land, and hires, or purchases horses and waggon to convey
his family and baggage to the farm of another comfortable
settler in his vicinity, with whom he has bargained for their
accommodation, at a moderate rate, and for a supply of
excellent provisions for as many weeks as he shall be
employed in the formation of his own residence.
    "With this interesting object at heart, he hires as many
men as circumstances will permit; a yoke of oxen and a
sleigh, which is the only vehicle that should be brought into
the woods until a road be regularly formed.  The master and
his men start before the ocean, to prepare what is called a
Bush road, which is done by felling and drawing aside all
trees under five inches diameter, from the line of march, and
by cutting a pass through any fallen timber of larger
dimensions; thus leaving the great trees standing, round
which, the others being cleared away, the oxen and sleigh can
plough without difficulty.
    "About an hour before nightfall preparation is made for
sleeping, and, what is termed a camp, is formed for this
purpose, in a summary way, by placing a ridge pole of ten
feet on two forked sticks six feet in length, and stuck
firmly in  the ground.  Against this ridge pole are laid, at
one side, a set of poles, obliquely; leaving the other side
which forms the front, entirely open, not only to admit the
heat of a large fire, which is lighted up before it, but the
smoke also, to banish the musquetoes [mosquitos?].  A thick
coat of hemlock boughs, or of bark stripped quickly from the
standing trees, and covering the poles, keeps off the rain or
dew.
    "By this time the oxen have arrived with the bed-clothes,
#PAGE 5
provisions, &c. and then comes on the interesting scene of
cooking.  The frying-pan, ("contrived a double debt to pay")
not only supplies sucessions of savoury pork, but also of
bread or paste cakes, not less enticing from the oily
drippings of the meat with which they are fried. After a hard
day's work in the Bush, this is no unwelcome supper.  Your
epicures sometimes bring biscuits.
    "The oxen are tied to a tree, having hay or maple
branches as their provender, and each of the party having
composed himself, with his feet to the blazing fire, sinks
into repose, upon the floor of this temporary shelter, strewn
thickly with the small boughs or tops of the hemlock tree.
    "Breakfast being over by dawn of day, the party move on
as before for five miles further, and having at length
arrived at the selected settlement, a substantial camp or
wigwam is erected, to accommodate all who are to be  engaged
in the building of the house.
    "The oxen are sent back, to return on a certain day to
draw the logs together, and the "Lord of this silent domain,"
commences active operations; not so very silent, however, as
the axe resounds through the wood, and the expert choppers
speedily make a sufficient clearance, furnishing, at the same
time, the necessary timber for the building.  A wise settler
will take care not to leave any trees standing close to the
site of his intended mansion; a friend of mine Lieut.
[Lieutenant?]------ who neglected this precaution, having
just completed his roof, was sitting under it with the utmost
complacency, when a tremendous crash from a falling tree of
great dimensions, laid the entire edifice level with the
ground; he himself, by a miraculous escape, was taken out
uninjured.
    "To return to our new settler. Having determined on the
plan, and proper scautlings he has the logs cut across
to the right lengths, and drawn together where the formation
of the house is to take place.
    "The walls are contrived in the same manner as a
schoolboy makes a crib, except that they must be upright;
but like that they have corresponding notches, cut out of the
ends of the respective logs that their adjoining surfaces may
close, with as little space as possible between them, and
that the coin or angles may be thus firmly braced.
    "The elevation must depend on the room required within;
where upper apartments are intended, it must rise
accordingly, and proportionally higher in a log house, which
is generally finished with a shed, or pent-house roof.
    "In the formation of this roof, however simple, much
accuracy is to be observed.
#PAGE 6
    "Black ash and bass woods are considered best adapted to
this purpose - the stems should be about fourteen inches in
diameter, straight, clean, and easily split.  Having cut them
into lengths, corresponding with the pitch of the roof, they
are then to be cleft asunder, and hollowed out by the axe
like rude troughs.
    "These are ranged in sufficient number from front to rere
[rear?], in the line of the roof with the hollow side
uppermost; and over them are ranged alternately, an equal
number, with the round side uppermost; so that the adjoining
edges of each two of the upper logs meet in the hollow of
that beneath them, whilst the adjoining edges of each two of
the lower logs, are covered by the hollow of that which is
above them; thus forming a compact roof perfectly water
tight, as the hollows of the under logs effectually carry off
all rain that may fall through the joints of the upper
surface; and the roof continues staunch as long as the
timbers remain undecayed.
    "This being completed - means must be taken to admit both
the family and the light. The openings for the doors and
windows (which are generally procured, ready made, from the
nearest settlement) are then formed in the walls by a cross
cut saw or an axe.
    "The chimney is then built with mud, if stones be scarce.
The stubbing afterwards takes place, which means, the filling
up the vacancies between the logs with slips of wood, mud or
moss; the floor is then formed of cleft planks pinned to logs
sunk in the ground, and smoothed or rather levelled with an
adze, the interior partitions, &c. may be got forward by
degrees; but, the oven, which is an essential, must be
completed before the arrival of the family.
    "Stones or brick must be procured for this, at any
convenience, for security against fire; but mud will serve as
mortar; it is always built outside the house, and stands
alone.  It is heated with pine, or very dry hard wood split
into small pieces, and burnt in the oven to ashes, which
being swept out, the bread is baked as in the common brick
ovens at home, where dried furze are used to heat them. -
Thus, at the expiration of three or four weeks, the
preparations are completed.
    "Having now brought our settler into his own log house,
with all the privation of former comforts that must of course
attend his enterprize [enterprise?]; I shall close this
settlement in the Bush, with an estimate of the expense he
must be supposed to have incurred, from the day he set off
from York, to that of his first family dinner under his own
roof."
#PAGE 7
    The whole cast of this part of the settling, including
purchase of lands &c. being 178 pounds.
    There has long been a feud amongst writers for
information, whether a new settler had better take a farm
partially cleared, or at once set down in the bush. The
difference of expense, taking two farms equidistant from
York, but one being cleared, with out-houses, &c. and the
other wild, is very trifling, being only about thirty pounds
less on the latter than on the former; but is this small
abatement in the cost, not more than balanced by having a
house ready built, and a road, and such little things, which
at home we are apt to overlook in the greater comforts, but
which in a new colony are of the first importance?  Let us see
what Captain Magrath tells us; having mentioned the relative
cost, he says -
    "This would tempt many to determine in favour of the
cleared farm, which appears to be the most economical.
    The comparison, however, is also to extend to
circumstances as well as to cost.
    Those of the Bush which are favourable, are these -
    Cheaper land - a choice of district - a clear title - and
the power of forming a neighbourhood of select friends.
    Those of the cleared land which are favourable, are these
-
    The immediate accommodation of house and offices.
    The prepared state of the cleared portion for the
reception of different crops.
    The presumed facility of intercourse with mill and
market, with readier access to the physician, and place of
worship.
    The unfavourable circumstances of the cleared land are
these -
    A dangerous title - liability to the debts of a
predecessor - an undesireable neighbourhood, fully settled,
to the exclusion of relatives and friends.
    Indeed amongst the latter evils of a clear farm, we might
add, the chance of the land being exhausted by frequent and
merciless cropping, so as to leave to the newcomer the
pleasant occupation of reclaiming his devastated purchase.
For our parts we would take the chance of the Bush, and so we
see have done the family, whose adventures form so very
pleasant a part of this volume, and we find no serious
complaints beyond the inevitable inconveniences of a new
country; in short they are settlers, and do not repent it.
    Letter third, we turn from letters of persons already
settled, to those written by the family of the editor. - More
excellent advice to all voyagers, and among the rest, the use
#PAGE 8
of a filtering machine, which will be invaluable, when the
water becomes rancid and abominable, we wonder this had never
been thought of before; then accounts of the Newfoundland
fishing, and a huge Hallibut [Halibut?] who very good
naturally brought crab sauce in his pouch. We have heard of
aldermen, who, on a dinner invitation, brought their own
condiments; but this Hallibut [Halibut?] beats them hollow -
such an instance of kind consideration has not been found
since Mrs. Bond's "ducks in the pond", who came regularly to
be killed. Letter four, contains much agricultural and
mechanical information, the method of building frame houses,
which are quite different things from shanties or log-houses,
being much on the plan of Longwood House, built in London for
the use of Napoleon in St. Helena. - The writer also mentions
the plague of pigeons, and the reader need not stare at the
word "flocks" miles in length, for we have it on the
authority of Wilson and Audubon, the great American
Ornithologists, that a flock, we think in Ohio, continued
flying over their heads for more than two hours, at the rate
of a mile a minute! and the column was many yards in
thickness, and some furlongs in width, and contained million
of millions of pigeons.  There is also a curious part
concerning the growth of wheat, which we shall extract for
the consideration of naturalists. We should like to see an
explanation of it from some able hand.
    "By the way, I must ask you to account for a curious
circumstance which results from sowing wheat in a swamp, or
wherever wet lodges.
    "The purest seed wheat that can be procured in such soil,
becomes a kind of grain, called chesse.  Some dry land of ours
produces fine wheat; but where there is a tendency to swamp,
the chesse grows and in one spot with us, there was last year
half an acre of it with very little wheat among it.  Some
farmers maintain, that it does not proceed from wheat, but from
a dormant seed: others, of whom my father is one, are of
opinion, that the wheat degenerates from the constant moisture,
and becomes what we term chesse; and, what tends to conform this
very natural hypothesis is, that chesse did not grow in any
part of the field where wheat is not sown, and the adjoining
patches which were purposely left unsown, produced only rank
grass and weeds.
    "This chesse looks exactly like wheat, whilst growing,
but when beginning to shoot or spindle, the head opens."
    Perhaps some readers for amusement will say, "Oh! what
the deuce do we care for log-houses or shantys.[shanties?]
"Yet before you condemn the book, turn over the pages, and
read some of the sporting anecdotes; if they are not amusing,
#PAGE 9
then are we asses.  Nor must the fair sex be neglected; we
must really introduce Miss Biddy Lacy to our readers; her
letters are decidedly the best of the sort we have ever seen;
then occasionally an anecdote brought in and admirably told,
will be found -  for instance just as an example, read this
and laugh;
    "A whimsical occurence (for the truth of which, however,
I do not absolutely vouch) is said to have taken place
shortly before our arrival here: a writ against a debtor
fairly liable to the law of arrest, was put into the hands of
one of our sheriffs, a fat and unwieldy person, to whom the
debtor was pointed out, and finding himself hard pressed by
the sheriff (who was well mounted) made off for a morass,
into which he dashed, laughing heartily at his pursuer.
    "Now, the puzzle to the sheriff was, how to make a proper
return on the writ; he could not return "non est inventus,"
for he had found his prey; he could not return 'coepi' as he
had not suceeded in the capture.  So, after much deliberation,
he made out the return "non est comeatibus in swampo."
    But as we have become sponsors for the excellent part in
store for you, gentle reader, and as we see you bursting with
impatience, we will submit Miss Lacy to our extracting
process and give you the proceeds; we shall only say this
much, that there is more than one of these rich morceaux.

    "From Bridget Lacy, to Mary Thompson,
                  "Ireland.

             "York, Upper Canada, Aug. 1832.
"Dear fellow-servant and school fellow.
    "For we were educated together, and printiced
[apprenticed?] out together; and my blessing on the Committee
of fifteen, and my blessing on them that taught us to read,
and write, and spell, that you may know all about me, and I
about you, though there are rivers, and seas, and woods, and
lakes between us; and my blessing on the mistress that taught
us to work, and wash, and make ourselves useful; so that
while health stands by us, we may earn honest bread in any
country.  And sure enough, dear Mary, you shall hear all the
good and bad that happens me, and I hope to have the same
from you.
    "And now that I am on land, it is only good natured that
I should give you some account of my doings since I set out.
    "If I had you with me, I would have been easier in my
mind, but still my mistress was very good, and I got on
bearably, barring the shocking sickness, such as no one in
the cholic, or the breeding way, or the billious [bilious?]
#PAGE 10
fever, or after hippo, or other squills, ever felt before or
since.
    "If you were only to have seen how smooth we floated down
the river, and out of the bay, and away to Wicklow, where I
was born, at the back of the Murrough, near Tinnakilly, you
would have said, away you go, eating, and drinking, and
laughing, and cracking jokes; but, my jewel, before the
second day was over, we were all knocked off a heap; and then
if you were to hear all around you as I did, groaning, and
raching [retching?], and willy wombling, and calling for
water, and nobody to bring them a sup, and wishing themselves
at the bottom of the sea; in troth[truth?] Mary, you would have
pitied a dog in the same taking. The hold was full of people,
mighty snug and decent, with money in their pockets, going
out to make their fortunes; and most of them Protestants,
that found home growing too hot for them; and that they had
better save their fair bones, and their little earnings
before it was too late, and sure enough, I believe they're
right.  There are mighty good people among them, and mighty
pretty girls, that when they arn't sick, sing psalms in the
evening very beautiful; and there's one Jenny Ferguson, from
the north, that I am very thick with, and she has a voice
like an angel.  In truth there are none of them bad, and its
mighty sweet upon the sea.
    "Well, my dear, when the singing is over, they're all
very merry; and there are some gay lads, and great fun, and a
little courting, but all in a civil way; and I sometimes make
one; and between you and I, Mary, but don't say a word at all
at all, I think there's a servant-boy of a Mr. Jackson's, one
Benson, that's throwing a sheep's eye at me, but nothing
certain, barring a sly pinch here and there, and other tinder
                       that may end in smoke after all.
    "They say a girl will soon get a husband in this country.
Some will, and some will not.  I'll be sorry to be trusting to
them.
    "The boy I have told you of, may be settled near us, and
if he is as sweet upon me then, as he is now, he may put some
of their noses out of joint. To say honest truth, I would not
like to be beholden to them; though they say they're civil
enough in Canada, not all as one as the States, where they
have the impudence of Old Nick, in making free with their
betters.
    "Yoy would not believe, dear Mary, the forwardness of
them Yankees.
    "Sure, I heard a gentleman, after coming from Philadelfy
[Philadelphia?] in the United States, telling my mistress of
their going some journey there in a cart, and the horses
#PAGE 11
tiring and stopping to sleep at a farmer's, and when he had
got into bed and was falling asleep, was roused by one over
him, saying 'I guess I tumble in here,' when the greasy
carter that drove him, stretched his ugly carcass along-side
him, and began to snore in three minutes. Now think of that,
Mary. If it was my case, not a pin in my pincushion but he
should have the full binifit [benefit?] of, the impudent
mohawk.
    "That's liberty and quality [equality?] as they call it -
a nice bedfellow indeed - instead of his own pretty wife, who
was put to sleep with the young woman of the house, to make
room for this scurvy Gee-ho-dobbin.
    "The only accident we had on the voyage was an old woman
that died, and a child born in the hold, and a little girl
choaked [choked?] with a potatoe [potato?], and two doctors
on board - but no blame to them - they weren't called till
all was over - and the Captain, long life to him, put the old
woman decent in a coffin, saying that the sherks [sharks?]
should have a mouthful of sawdust before they got at her old
bones.
    "Oh! but I had like to forget the chief sport. Sure we
had a boxing match, Mary, which I must tell you of by and by.
But what banged all was the storm. That was what was near
settling us for life. Oh! Mary, Mary, it was tremendous - but
I can only tell you the beginning of it.
    "You, Mary, dear, how will I describe it to you?
    "Do you remember when we were little girls in the school,
and the carpenters working in the yard, and a great long
board, and we and the other girls playing weighdy bucketdy,
and we going up in the air and down again to the ground.
Well, then, there's the way it began, but in troth,[truth?]
my dear, it was only a beginning, for before you could thread
a needle up went my heels as straight as a ladder, and then
down again, that though I was lying on the broad of my back, I
thought I was standing on my two feet in the bottom of the
sea.
    "Then came on the whillaloo from above, and the cracking
of masts and ropes, and dear knows what, and off I dropped in
a swoon, I suppose, for I never saw or heard any thing more
till all the danger was over.
    "I just remember calling out oh! my jewel, take the child
- and when first I opened my eyes, what should I see, but my
little darling, Miss Mary, tied in her own mahogany chair,
and that same tied to the bed, and the little dear laughing
heartily; and no wonder, Mary, for you'd have laughed
yourself, as I did, and couldn't help it, when, with a toss
of the ship, we saw every thing, big and little, mugs, jugs,
#PAGE 12
and porringers, &c. all hunting each other about the floor.
    "But I promised to tell you about the boxing. Well, my
dear, the next day was quite calm, and we all got up on the
deck.  I went forward to talk to my friend Jenny Ferguson, and
there were five or six fellows beside us, tripping and boxing
with big gloves, and we heard one of them saying to another,
'arrah, Brian, what if you were to challenge the big man
there above on the quarter-deck (meaning my master,) they say
he's fond of the fancy.'
    "Oh! brother,' says he, 'he's too heavy for me.'
    "Never a pound,' says the other;'and he's flabby and wake
[weak?] they say he was sick all the way.'
    "Sick or no sick. I'll have nothingto do wid [with?]
him,' says he.
    "You won't then? - O'Brien, is that talk for you that's
the borry of all Westmeath? There's the back of my hand to
you, and I'm ashamed of you for evermore.'
    "Well then, if I must, I must,' says he, so be going, and
asking him will he take a turn.
    "Up they go, and I following them close; and says the
same man to my master, 'plase [please?] your honour, we hear
you're fond of the sport, and there's a boy here has got the
gloves.  Would your honour be so free and esy [easy?] as to
put them on wid [with?] him?'
    "'I don't care if I do,' says my master, 'but I am not
very well, and I feel weak; but a little sparring will do
nobody any harm.'
    "Upon this they took off them, and put on the gloves.
    Oh! Mary dear, is'nt my master a fine man? Sure you saw
him the day we sailed.
    "Well, my dear, there he stood like a rock, parlying,
[parleying?] as they call it, while the other was striking
with all his might, but never a touch was himself able to
give my master, at all at all - and the upshot was, he was
beat to his heart's content.
    "But to give him his due, he shook hands with the master,
and said, 'he begged his honour's pardon for giving him the
trouble of bating [beating?] him, which he well deserved, for
coming fornent (sic) so fine a man entirely; and the only
satisfaction he had was, that it was the first time he was
ever bate [beat?] in all his life. The master gave him half a
crown and a glass of whiskey, and they were mighty good
friends ever after.
    "Well, well, well, I believe this letter will never end;
so that I'll say nothing about the journey from Quebec to
York, only that it was mighty pretty; and beautiful steam
boats, and rumbling coaches, and bad inns, and fine rivers,
#PAGE 13
and plenty of trees; and here we are at York, and here we
have been for a month, living as bad as in a cholera
hospital, for the whole town was nothing else; and every day,
we never thought we would get over the next night safe.  But
we could not run away, for my mistress was brought to bed of
a little girl, as fine a litle crature [creature?] as ever
you see.  But we are all well now; and when my master comes
back from the waterfall of Niggeraga [Niagara?] (they say
they were all Niggers here once,) we are to set out for the
estate he has bought in the Huron Tract; and whatever comes
across me there, Mary, you shall know the particulars of it,
as it may be a temptation for you to come out yourself next
year, with your own black eyes, to throw yourself in the way
of the same good fortune.  They say no girl, barring she is
old and ugly, will stand two months.
    "My mistress says an officer will take this free with her
own.
    "So dear Mary no more, and I'm sure no more would be
agreeable, at present, from your loving school-fellow,
                                       "And friend
                                       "Bridget Lacy."

    To all gentlemen settlers we recommend highly their
bringing out a good rifle, a Rigby or Egg, and if they know
how to prime and load, they cannot fail of filling the larder
with fat turkeys and fatter venison; if they are bad shots,
such as "fire at a church and miss the parish," they will
fare no better than Mr. Magrath's man, who fired at a flock
of these black waddlers, and "boasted that he knocked out as
many feathers as would make a good sized pillow," but the
larder was none the better, nor the turkeys the worse of this
sharp-shooting.  Be you good or bad shot, bring out the rifle,
for if you cannot shoot, somebody else may be found to take
your place.  It is quite a mistake to think, that the bush is
the best shooting ground, we find the cleared land is
recommended - and surely the woods must be an awkward place to
take a shot - one might as well shoot in a stake salmon-net,
with as many poles as meshes around him.
    A letter on the state of religion in Upper Canada:- The
information on this subject in England, is ridiculous, it is
more properly ignorance; we have seen very good old ladies
bless themselves that they were not placed in such a
heathenish country. If they will not read they must be
ignorant, and to be ignorant when such information is
offered, is folly or prejudice - generally the latter. We
find a demand for Church of Ireland divines, not temperising
men, but those who will put their shoulders to the work - if
#PAGE 14
droves are sent out, the church will, to a surety, fall in
public estimation; Methodism is gaining ground, but still
there is a protesting religion, and while there is such we
feel less the want of the true Reformed Church; so long as
the settlers are kept clear of papistry and infidelity, so
long will the seeds of protestantism be kept alive; and we
are free to confess, that we honour the Methodist
Missionaries for their zealous and effective labours - we
look on them as guardians of that faith, which we hope to see
promulgated in their congregations by the authentic ministers
of the Protestant Church.  At the same time it must be allowed
that there is a frightful degree of free thinking, "thousands
never see the face of a clergyman," and the consequence is,
neglect of the moral and religious duties of life; as an
instance of which let us adduce the following -
    "Some persons have been disposed to go away unmarried,
from the man's refusing to say, "with my body I thee worship'
- One, contending that worship was due to God alone, was
induced to comply with the Rubrick, only by the positive
refusal of the clergyman to proceed with the ceremony, unless
the form were acquiesced in.
    "A woman from the STATES, in the true spirit of
independence, left a church in this province, unmarried, from
her refusal to say 'obey.'  She had previously determined
never to give the solemn promise required, and preferred
living with her intended spouse, unshackled by the yoke of
matrimony.
    "She now has three children, and lives happily with her
mate.
    "You remember the old song -

    "A maid there was who did declare,
     That if she ever married were;
     No pow'r [power?] on earth should make her say,
     Amongst the rites, the word Obey:

     When this she at the church confest [confessed?],
     And when she saw the angry priest
     Shut up his book to go away,
     She curtseying cried, Obey - Obey!!'

    "The first verse critically applies in the present
instance; but, it is not to be regretted, that the dame in
question did not permit the second one to be equally in
point."
    The clergy will find much in this chapter to interest
them; a fair view of their probable success, and their certain
#PAGE 15
income is here given.
    Our sporting captain pays a visit to a tribe of Indians
near him, and a pleasant time he seems to have spent.  Here
again the advantage of a good gun is held forth; it is as
good an introduction to a Huron or Mighigan [Michigan?] as a
letter of credit to a merchant on change. These Indians dance
quadrilles, and in the estimation of Mr. M. [Magrath?] they
excel many of the crack pupils of the fashionable teachers.
The chief of one tribe sat in the assembly as member of his
county; and we would wager a sum of money, that he behaved
more decorously than the tag-rag and bob-tail thing,
mis-named the "collective wisdom" of this country.  We cannot
refrain from an extract of an adventure with these
    "Stoics of the wood, the men without a tear."
    "After a residence of six weeks with my Red Brothers, I
prepared to return homeward, and felt much regret at parting
from them, so marked was their kindness to me, and so
goodnatured their attention.  When I fixed the day, every one
had something to give; and had I accepted half what they
presented, two canoes would have been insufficient to carry
away the provisions.  I embarked at five in the morning; when
three miles distant from shore, the sudden swell of the lake,
and black appearance of the sky foreboding storm, I directed
the men at the paddles to turn back, and before we had got
within a mile of shore the waves (as is often the case in
these lakes) running mountain high, we made every possible
exertion, but very little way.
    "The wind was right ahead, and freighted with six persons
- but she rode it like a duck; we at length reached the land,
nearly exhausted, and I was welcomed back with as much cordiality
as if my absence had been for weeks instead of hours.  Had we
not returned we must have been inevitably lost; in a short time,
however, I was safely lodged again in my old quarters.
    "About dusk a canoe, with two Squaws on board, was
observed struggling to make the shore. On inquiry, I found they
belonged to our camp, had been about a mile along the coast,
for some fish which had been left behind, and were blown out
as they rounded a head land [headland?] close to us. We could
observe them throwing out the fish, and the group on shore had
hopes of their arriving in safety; none, however, attempted to
go to their assistance, knowing that, in such a gale, both
canoes would be endangered, as, by a sudden collision they
would be upset or staved to pieces; they, nevertheless,
looked on with deep anxiety, when, as the little vessel rose
on the summit of a wave, the foremost paddle swept close to
the hand of the Squaw that plied it, and disappeared. She lay
down in the canoe, and her comrade could do no more than prevent
#PAGE 16
it from turning. In a moment a canoe was launched, by two men,
one of them the husband of her who still worked that which
was in distress; they were making some progress to her relief,
when it became so dark that we lost sight of both. The shouts
of the two men to discover where the canoe lay were feebly
answered by the unhappy women, and then all was still.
    "I had a fire lighted on the beach, as a beacon to direct
them, in the excessive darkness of the night - The group
around it formed the finest subject for a painter that can be
imagined.  There we stood, about eighty in number, gazing at
the flame, blown by the wind in all directions, the light
thrown strongly, but fitfully, on the features and figures
of the Indians, but not a word was spoken - at length the
grating sound of paddles reached our ears; the light of the
immense fire flashed on the approaching canoe and the persons
it contained - the two enterprising men accompanied by one
female! - Poor Segenauck, - the wife of an attached husband,
who hoped and tried to save her, was no more!
    "They landed - not a question was asked - all retired to
their wigwams in solemn silence.  In a few minutes I was
alone.
    "The manly and dignified manner in which this melancholy
occurrence was received - the solemn, but silent, tribute of
regret paid by all to the memory of one of their tribe, thus
suddenly called away, gave me a still more favourable
impression of my Indian companions, and sent me to bed, with
the storm in my ears, and its fatal result occupying my
waking and sleeping thoughts till morning. I learned,
then, from Segenauck's husband, that as soon as the canoes
came near each other, the Squaw at the head, taking hold of
the gunwale of that in which he was, cautiously stept
[stepped?] in, forgetting in the hurry and the danger of the
moment, to keep hold of that she had left, which, losing the
weight in front, rose at once out of the water, was blown
round, and upset without a possibilty on his part, of saving
his unfortunate helpmate."
    We have next another letter from Miss Briddy Lacy, who we
shall say nothing of, as it would really deprive the reader
of a pleasure, did we presume to recommend it - the
excellence will be found at the first glance.  Then came right
excellent letters on sporting, deer-shooting, bear-shooting,
racoon [raccoon?] killing, partridge and woodcock slaying cum
multes aliis, "too numerous here to be mentioned."  We are fairly
at a loss which to take - at random we select the "hunting the
racoon [raccoon?]".

             "HUNTING THE RACOON" [RACCOON?]
#PAGE 17
    "This is a kind of sport which does not admit of much
variety.
    "In the moonlight nights the Racoons [Raccoons?] collect
in numbers in the cultivated fields, to regale upon the Indian
corn, and are there to be attacked with caution, as they retire
at the slightest noise, which makes it particularly necessary
to keep all quiet about the house and farm yard, for an hour or
two after nightfall; at which time, having a dog well trained
for the purpose, you sally forth.  The dog may be "half
lurcher and half cur," or of any description that has a
tolerable nose and an audible voice.
    "The moment he comes upon the scent he gives tongue, and
the Racoons [Raccoons?] immediately fly to the adjoining trees.
He runs the first to the trees in which he has taken shelter,
and remains barking at its root. You come up, and from the
indication of the dog, as well as from the assistance of the
moon, you have no difficulty in finding your game, and
killing it.
    "When you have shot the first, lay the dog on again; and
the same result may be expected; and so in continuation,
till, by the cessation of the barking, you are apprized
[apprised?] that no other Racoons [Raccoons?] remain.
    "Occasionally, however, a more animated scene takes
place, by day light [daylight?] when one of those animals may
happen to exhibit himself in a tree beside the house.
    "This is the only hunting of wild animals, in which the
fair sex partake; but on this occasion the entire family turn
out, men, women, children, domestics, dogs, &c.
    "If there be a gun in question the sport is soon over; if
not, the tree must be cut down.  Pending the operation, all
eyes are fixed on Cooney, sitting aloft with perfect
composure,and looking down with ineffable contempt upon the
gaping enemy; and with some justice! - for how could he
imagine, that with the purpose of destroying a peaceful and
harmless animal like himself, a domestic host should be
arrayed against him.  He gives no credit to it, 'till the
creaking tree, yielding to the axe, begins to give way, when
running rapidly down the stem, and bolting up that of an
adjoining tree, he makes a second effort at security.
    "In the confusion upon his first descent, he frequently
escapes; all striking at him together, intercepts each others
implements of war. Cunning and nimble as a fox, he avoids
them all; but should he cling to the falling tree, he comes
to the ground, bruised and stunned, an easy victim to the
beetle, potstick, fleshfork, or poker of the amazonian cook
maid, who carries him off in triumph to the kitchen,
encouraged by her success, to hope for a few more to line her
#PAGE 18
Sunday cloak with their comfortable skins."
    There now look at Lover's sketch, why he must have been
himself present else could he not draw such attitude. The
family were all at dinner, we  suppose, when in runs a yelping
brat - 'the racoon's [raccoon's?] in the corn!' when upstart
the whole posse comitatus of the farm; Jack with an axe to fell
the tree, if the brute shall 'tree to;' Peter fresh from the
barn, leaves his hot work, and flail in hand, runs to see the
fun; Molly with a ladle, and her sister, or fellow-prentice
[apprentice?] (perhaps Miss Lacy herself,) with the kitchen
tongs, vow vengence against the intruder; old Towser jumps at
the varmin [vermin?], and yells, and blows, and cries, and
oaths, resound - crack goes the tree, hop, skip, and a jump,
and away goes the racoon [raccoon?] minus a tail, and away go
the yelling crowd heedless of stumps, till Peter, as he draws
a back-handed suite, falls head over heels, Molly with uplifted
legs over him, and Miss Lacy and Jack crown the pile, and so
end the racoon [raccoon?] hunt. Snipe! duck! feal (sic)
"what fun."   Such shooting and eating salmon, trout, white
fish! - such fishing and drinking - we scarce know what to
give the public when all is good.  Let us see what the chapter
on fishing may give us; aye, spearing salmon, not unknown to
us in days gone bye, but most most novel to the fly and line
fishers, who cheer at a gudgeon and yell at a trout; read ye
igneramusus [ignoramuses?], and if ye can find a stream with
a fish in it, go and try the following method -
    "The method, however, which is usually preferred is
night-fishing, which is effected thus: two sportsmen take
their stations in a light skiff, one at the bow, with spear
in hand, the other at the stern.  The spear is three pronged,
the handle twelve feet in length, of the best white ash; the
thickness, that which is well known, and better handled in
every fair in Ireland, under a title of a shillelagh.
    "In the bow too is secured a pole of stronger dimensions,
about four feet in length, to the top of which is appended,
by means of a socket, an iron jack, or grate, moveable on
pivots, so as to balance and right itself, when the boat
moves roughly through the rapids, and to prevent the fire or
light wood which it is to contain, from being thrown out.
This jack or grate is circular, about one foot in depth, and
fourteen inches in diameter. It is supplied from time to time
with pitch pine, cut into lengths of eight inches, about
inch and half in thickness - a large heap of these is piled
in the centre of the skiff, from which magazine the
light-jack is replenished, so as to keep up a bright and
continued flame, which blazing upwards from two to three
feet, exhibits clearly to your view the fish even to a depth
#PAGE 19
of ten feet, or fairly across the river where it happens to
run shallow.  The spear-man takes his stand behind the Jack.
If in deep water, he, at the stern, plies the paddle, if in
shallow, a light spear; by means of which he prevents the
skiff from bolting too suddenly down the rapids, and often
strikes a fish the bow-man may have missed.  Thus appointed,
you go as quietly as possible down the stream, and on seeing
a fish, you must not be in too great a hurry to strike,
unless in a shallow and rapid part of the river.  If in deep
water, the blazing Jack throws down its light upon a fish,
let your eye not swerve from the object, nor your spear
deviate from its poise, till you strike; and when you do,
observe that you throw yourself back to preserve your
balance, or an upset, and a cool dip will be the penalty of
your incaution.
    "In aiming at the fish, strike nearer to you, than he
appears, and nearer still, in prportion to the depth of the
water.
    "In this respect, the young sportsman will meet frequent
disappointment, as nothing but experience will enable him to
calculate the power of refraction, so as to reconcile the
real and apparent distance.
    "You should always aim at the shoulder, and if you srike
sucessfully, bring in the fish with as much expedition as
possible, lest it should twist itself off the spear - when
you have it fairly in the skiff, you loose your spear from
the fish, by striking it against the seat.  Should the salmon,
however, at which you have struck, escape and turn down the
stream, keep steadily on, and when he wheels to pass you,
wheel also rapidly, by putting out your spear at one side to
assist the steersman, then push up the stream to get above
the fish, which will generally rest some time after making,
what is termed, the dart pass, and you will be sure to find
him in the first sudden deepening of the river.  The slightest
wound he may have received will appear quite white in the
water, and should he be out of distance, you must endeavour
to strike, by throwing your spear, for which purpose, you
must grasp it at the middle with your left hand, and at the
top with your right, and fling it at the remote object with
such aim and dexterity as you can command - many are expert
at this, but he that is not, had better avoid the experiment;
as the effort will probably be unsuccessful, and, it will
require the greatest possible steadiness to keep his feet
when the spear has quit his hand. Shortly after our arrival
here, my brother and I speared one hundred and twenty salmon
of a night; but they are now becoming less numerous, in
consequence of the number of saw-mills erected, the profusion
#PAGE 20
of sawdust on the water, (always annoying to the fish) and,
the multitudes of oak staves annually floated down the river.
    By the hardy sportsman, night-fishing is always
preferred, but is a source of misery to the Dandy, who is
afraid of wetting his feet.  For this description of animal,
I have so little respect or pity, that I have often undergone
a wetting by upsetting the canoe, to enjoy the terror of the
would-be sportsman - one need not, however, often volunteer,
these occasional ablutions.  They will occur of themselves,
and, when you least expect them.  As my brother Charles is
generally my companion in all sports upon land, so, my
brother James, is upon the water - not having the same relish
for the fatigue of Deer shooting as for the saddle of a Prime
Buck, to which no man can pay his respects in greater style,
or better understands the due and relative proportions of the
current jelly and wine sauce; and woe betide the cook, if there
be any omission on her part, of preparing, cording, pasting
and basting, when he invades her premises on a visit of
inspection.
    "For our third or fourth attempt at night fishing, we
prepared by pulling our skiff a couple of miles up the river
by day light [daylight?], and when night came on, to use the
sporting phrase, we lighted up, and falling down the stream
with excellent amusement, had taken about thirty Salmon, when
being driven at a spanking rate by a smart current, we
discovered, (but alas! too late) that a tree had fallen
across the river against which the staff of the light-jack
having stuck, the skiff wheeled broadside to the stream, and
the gunwale coming in contact with one of the branches, the
capsize was as sudden as disasterous - every article on
board, our dear selves - the numerous Salmon - magazine of
Firewood - axe rifle - brandy bottle - light jack - all - in
a moment committed to the deep!! -  Most fortunately, however,
we were not past our depth, but pretty nearly so.
Floundering about in our blanket coats for some time, and
having at last gained the bank, our first look out was for
the skiff; having hauled her on shore, and, with much
groping, recovered one of the spears, our next exertion was
to kindle a fire, the night being too dark from the over
hanging trees, to venture forward without a light.  In our
dripping state this was a project of very dubious result; but
having luckily between us, a flint and steel, at the sore
expense of our knuckles in the dark, we at length succeeded in
setting fire to an old tree, and forming a torch with some
birch-bark, we resolved on walking home, and returning in
the morning for the recovery of our apparatus.
    "Here, however, the idea of being laughed at, shook our
#PAGE 21
resolution; were we uninjured in our persons, and unentitled
to any serious sympathy, to come back like drowning Rats, to
the family fireside, divested too, of the produce of our
night's labour; how truly ludicrous would be the exhibition?
No; it would never do - we could not stand their jibes and
jeers, even of the house party.
    Resolved, therefore -
    'That, the skiff be forthwith launched once more.
    'That, the fishing light be renewed, and
    'That, the recovered spear be put in immediate
requisition to raise and fish up our sundry property, from
the place of its immersion.'
    "Acting upon the spirit and principle of the foregoing
resolutions; by means of the skiff and spear, we brought up
all the solid articles, except the brandy bottle, which,
rolling off the prongs at every effort to raise it to the
skiff; my brother, grieviously disappointed and suffering
from the cold, determined on a desparate and final effort,
and wading in, to his shoulders, upon touching, with his
foot, the object of his solicitude, immediately dived and
brought it safe to - the skiff? - no - the land? - no - his
mouth? yes; but not till he had removed both that, and the
mouth of the bottle into shallower water, and beyond the risk
of admixture with that deteriorating element.  He embraced his
regained companion with prolonged ardour, but had the charity
to interrupt his draft by leaving me a comfortable portion, to
which I paid my respects with great complacency.  With renewed
vigour, we plied the axe - prepared the firewood - re-lighted
the jack - and bound for home, picked up at every eddy, one
or more of our lost salmon; bringing back in triumph, after
all, twenty-seven choice fish, being within three of the
original number taken.
    We must now stop, not for want of matter, for we have
left untouched deer-hunting and bear-shooting, both really
admirable, but because we have no more room; yet we must not
leave unnoticed the embellishments from the burin of our very
talented countrymen. Mr. Lover, to whose pen also our readers
are so much indebted, for the originality and humour, with which
he favours them; the etchings before us are first rate; of
the racoon [raccoon?] hunt we have spoken; of the "bear at
breakfast," we could speak for ever, and the "night fishing" -
the face of the half-drowned man gulping down the brandy, is
worth any money; in a word, they are worthy of the designer.
Of this book, we shall sum up our opinion very briefly: it is
indispensible to the wealthy emigrant, as a book of
reference, and of estimates, or rather real bills of costs,
not to be found elsewhere.  It is useful to the poor man, as
#PAGE 22
it contains many valuable hints on the conducting of the farm
and household affairs.  To the general reason, we need say
little, after the extracts we have given.  If there be a
better work on the subject, it is the volume of Dr. Dunlop;
but that work wants the air of certainty and reality which
appears in every page of this book.  We are inclined to place
this as the best manual on emigration, as suited to the
better classes, that has ever met our eyes.  The gentleman,
the poor man, the lay, or the clergy, the sportsman, or the
fisherman, will find each his own taste.  We anticipate a most
sucessful sale.