Volume II Part 21 (1/2)
”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 cla.s.s 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 a.s.sist 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 hara.s.sed 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 towns.h.i.+p 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 Towns.h.i.+ps._
Extracts of an address ent.i.tled ”Sc.r.a.ps of Local History,” delivered by Canniff Haight, Esq., before the Mechanics' Inst.i.tute 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 n.o.ble 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 pa.s.s 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 cl.u.s.ter 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 pa.s.sed 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 sh.o.r.e 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 sh.o.r.e, and rear a temporary tent. Then the frugal supper is spread upon the green gra.s.s, 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 pa.s.s with ease and pleasure. The most difficult part of their journey had been pa.s.sed. They reach the Onondago river, and soon pa.s.s 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 b.l.o.o.d.y 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 sh.o.r.e,' 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 sh.o.r.e 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 towns.h.i.+p number five. This towns.h.i.+p, 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 sh.o.r.e. 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 pa.s.sed 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.'