Pedigree showing the Royal Descent of Christian, wife of the Rev

APPENDIX 8

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF WILLIAM BASIL HAMILTON[1]

William Basil Hamilton, second son of James Mathew Hamilton[2], Captain in His Majesty's Fifth Regiment of Foot was born in 1812 on the 19th of November at Charlestown in the County of Cornwall. My mother, Louisa Jupp was born in the city of London, England, one of a large family. Her father was a well known architect of that city. My mother was living, at the time of her marriage, with the Rev. Basil Wood, her brother-in-law, her parents being dead. My father was born in Ireland, the twelfth son of the Rector of Donaghadee[3], on the North of the island and lying opposite Port Patrick in Scotland. My father left home when quite young and with his regiment was sent out to Canada. Here he remained for several years stationed at Montreal, Michilimackinack, Quebec, Niagara and Toronto. About 1796 he left Canada and settled in London. One of my brothers and three of my sisters were born there. About this time my father sold out of the army and came to Cornwall where I, with two brothers and one sister were born. Here my father entered into business in partnership with Mr. Ball who lived in Mevagissey, a small town on the cost of Cornwall not many miles from St. Austell. Their business was connected with the shipping port at Charlestown. Over this place, they had sole control in sending off the copper ore from the different mines in Cornwall; also china clay to the Staffordshire potteries; receiving and selling lumber sent from Norway for building and the use of the mines; also cargoes of coal and limestone which was burnt and turned into lime for the farmers who used it for dressing the land. It was in great demand for this purpose. My father had hundreds of horses, mules and oxen constantly employed in teaming to the mines the articles required. Some of the roads were too rough for wagons, in such cases mules were used and you would meet forty or fifty mules with loads on their backs, driven by one man, following each other in a string. The company also had a bank and foundry at St. Austell, at which latter place heavy casting were got out for the mines. All these works kept my father very busy.

Shortly after my birth, father bought a place about a mile from St. Austell named Treewhiddle. He enlarged the house and beautified the grounds with a lawn in front of the house some acres in extent. He made a carriage road through to the travelled road; this he macadamized, probably the first on this plan and before Macadam brought the same into use. He also built an iron bridge over the river on the public road. I believe this was also one of the first built of iron in the Kingdom. We children and all lived very happily, having a nurse and a governess to take care of us. My two oldest sisters went to Truro to boarding school and my brother, older than I, went also to a boarding school near London. I believe he was only eight years old when he left and we did not see him for some years. My father went occasionally to London business-a journey such a distance was then considered of as much importance as a trip across the ocean is now and occupied as many days. All these pleasant times came to an end. The failure of a bank, the stopping of some mines in which my father had interests, a great depression in the whole country and his partner not having as much capital as he was supposed to have, obliged my father to give up his business, to sell off his beautiful place and retire into private life. We removed to St. Austell for a time, where I went to school with my brother. Our master, a Mr. Chivers, took great pains with his scholars, especially in writing; one boy in particular, writing a beautiful hand and ornamenting the paper. The master was very proud of him. I wished much I could do as well with my writing but I tried in vain. We removed away from this town to a place near Bodmin, the county town. The house we were to live in had, in olden time, been a monastery or convent. In the rear was an old tower covered with ivy in which owls lived and amused themselves in the night. Between the tower and the house was a beautiful cistern of cut stone out of which we obtained the purest water. Our house was built of cut stone; it was not plastered on the inside. I forget whether the stairs were of stone, but I think they must have been. If anyone is desirous to know they can find out by going to the parish of Lanivet and inquiring for St. Bennet's about three miles from Bodmin. I have no doubt the house is there yet and perhaps will be for another hundred years unless a railroad or earthquake should happen to pass that way. The house which was quite large and comfortable with many rooms which we did not occupy, was said to be haunted. Whether it was or not, I cannot say, but we were permitted to sleep comfortably.

Here I attended the village school kept by Mr. Lunty who was clever, but I think the vainest man I ever saw. He had been a sergeant in the army, could paint and draw a little and play the violin, which he did to his own inexpressible delight in the choir of the parish church. To have kept him from playing would, I readily believe have killed rum. He took great palls with the few scholars in the three R's, none of us went beyond that. However, much to his delight, my eldest brother came to stop with us from London for a while and the master and he took great delight in studying matters far ahead of the usual tasks such as algebra, geometry etc. Not far from our palatial residence was an old grist mill kept by an honest old miller called Josey Code. It was a great treat to go there and see the mill at work grinding wheat. He had a good stout horse. One of the girls would get on his back and he away to a farmhouse bringing back two or three bags of wheat, sitting on top to keep the bags from falling off. When she arrived at the mill her father would come out and taking a bag on his shoulder, would mount the steps and empty the bag into the hopper. He would then fetch up the other bag, or bags, pull the rope and the millstone would revolve. The grain would come out at a spout falling into a sieve. The flour would fall into a box or bin below and the bran would come out at the end of the sieve falling into another box. In the meantime the old man had taken his pay, I think about five pounds for every bushel, and as soon as all was ground, would fill the bags with flour and another with the bran, packing it again on the horse with the girl on top and off she would go to deliver it to the owner. In this primitive style, the good, honest, old man, brought up and sent out into the world, a large family of boys and girls. One of the girls we had for a servant and a splendid good girl she was. How the family managed to live on the proceeds of this mill was a mystery, but they did. Now I must give you some idea of the language spoken by the scholars. One of the little girls had some dirt on her spelling book. The master asked her what it was. She answered "pillum, sir". "But see here the leaves are stuck together, how did you do that?" "I clebbed it with spit, sir." "Now tell me what pillum is" "Why sir, it's much a droud." "You may sit down, that will do." The Cornish are very fond of wrestling. This is the principal amusement in play hours. Sometimes, however, they played bat and ball, I think it was called rounders, very much like, I should think, what the Americans call baseball. The first time I saw baseball played I said "Why that's rounders they are playing."

We remained at St. Bennett's about three years, then we moved up to Plymouth in Devonshire. Here we found a large town quite different, in many respects, to what we had known. The large garrison, with many soldiers, large churches and chapels. It was rather singular, that the house father rented, was again known as being haunted. An old lawyer had lived in it for years; I believe he was a bachelor. This was again a very large building, with rows upon rows of windows, many of then partially closed up with masonry, as we were told, to save taxes. In those days they levied tax on sunlight; it's a wonder they did not tax the air too. However, as no one appeared to care to live in a haunted house, we had but a small rent to pay, and did not mind the ghosts. My brother said he saw one, one night, as the children were undressing to go to bed. A lady walked into the room, and finding nothing to suit her, she went away. Of course they were very much frightened. The only way I can account for it, was a shadow from the opposite side of the street. The houses were very tall and occupied by families from ground floor to garret. One of our amusements was to get a mirror and let the sun shine on it. This would throw the sun from the mirror into the rooms opposite, and everything in the room could be seen quite plainly, and the people could not make out how the sun had turned around, and there would be quite a commotion. This was great fun for us, as we kept the sun shining and moving all over the room. We kept hid so they were terribly puzzled. Here, as usual, we boys went to school kept by a clergyman. But of all the masters I ever had, he was the worst; keeping an old man with a long cane who did little else than go around thrashing the boys, while the master sat at his desk, eating oranges. The boys would be called up, and he would examine them by key he kept in his desk. If their answers corresponded with his key, well and good; if not they were sent back till they tallied, and were kept in till they did tally. One day I got into this difficulty, and could not, with all my endeavor, get the answers alike. So he kept me in and sat at his desk. After many trials, I suppose he got tired. He came to where I was working, told me to get up on the bench, or desk, where I was working and then and there gave me a thrashing with his long cane. I thought it was the most brutal treatment; because I desired to get the right answer more than he did. If he had said, "My boy, let me look at your slate" and found out where I was wrong, which could have been done in a few minutes, we would both of us felt happy. But as I said before, he never taught. We had to puzzle everything out by ourselves. Such a bad example too- it made the boys cruel and quarrelsome. After thrashing me, he told me to go. I suppose he was getting hungry. He took ill some time after this and died, and, I confess I felt glad. This man was preaching the gospel in one of the largest English churches in the town, curate to the great Dr. Hawke; one of the most gifted clergymen of the day. He was called antinomian, but if he were preaching the same doctrine at the present day, he would be known as advanced Evangelical. What he preached was little understood at that time; consequently, he was hated by other ministers of the church. As far as I can understand, he was an ultra Calvinist. There were no ritua1ists, or high church parties. There were a few evangelical, like Mr. Marsh of Colchester, but the majority of the clergymen were nothing. If they went through what they called their duties, they had no thought or care for the salvation of souls. This never troubled them. Looking after the tithes, and church rates; service once a week and enjoying themselves in hunting, racing, visiting, card playing, drinking, was all they thought of.

While living in Plymouth, my second sister, Mary, died of typhus fever. She was a beautiful girl and of an angelic disposition. I suppose too much so, for this wicked world, and the good Lord took her home. Nearly all the family took the same fever, but none but she died. It was a sad time for our poor mother. For two months she nursed and cared for the sick. Perhaps this kept her from fretting for the lost one. The dear girl was engaged to be married to a very excellent young man of great ability. As far as I can remember, he did not live very long after his loss. We, shortly after, left Plymouth for a farm on the Tavistock Road, four mile from our last place. The house was pleasantly situated near the road; the mail coach passed daily for Tavistock. Our farm was small. I don't suppose my father made much out of it; as he had to hire all the labour required. Wages were low, however; nine shillings a week was considered good pay for a labouring man, working 12 hours a day. One of our men, had a family of eight or nine children. He appeared content with his lot. They seldom ate meat; barley bread, potatoes, cabbages and turnips was what they lived on. Once a week the good wife would walk into market, four miles; and buy what things she needed. Among which was a few pounds of mutton fat cut from the outside of the mutton, which was intended for roasting pieces for the gentry. The flesh of the mutton they could not afford to buy. Ox liver, they could buy; as it was cheap. Some of the men would have a small garden and this would help them. My sister and myself and my brother, used to go into Plymouth every day to school. My sister generally got a ride part of the way in our donkey cart, but often, like us, had to walk the eight miles. This was good exercise for us and made us good walkers.

My father about this time, began to think often about Canada, where he had lived so long. The Canada Company held large tracts of land about Goderich and many articles were in the papers, praising the situation and the land, in that part of the Province, then called Upper Canada. Singularly enough, one day I was sent in, for some purpose to Devonport, the Naval station near Plymouth, and about the same distance from us. Going about on the docks, which I was in the habit of doing whenever I got the chance, I saw lying at the dock one of the largest merchant ships. I was very much struck with its appearance and thought, "What a fine ship to go to Canada in." I did not go on board or make any enquiries, but when I got home I was so pleased with what I had seen, I began talking to them about it. Father, hearing me, went in the next day, found the ship, and discovered that its next voyage would be to Quebec. The name of the ship, or rather, brig, was the Salamis of Sunderland; then unloading coal; and as soon as unloaded, would sail to Quebec for a load of lumber. He bargained with the captain to take the whole family and in order to accommodate us, it was necessary to make another cabin, so this gave us time to get ready. In a few days we had all sold except what was thought necessary to take; and some day in June saw us all on board. My father had friends at the naval victualing dock; so the vessel was taken there and all the water wanted for the ship's use was put on board. In a very short time, also, the decks and rigging were well washed; which was a comfort, as the coal dust abounded everywhere. We left Plymouth, some time in June and after a pleasant voyage as far as weather was concerned, landed in Quebec in ten weeks and four days. Rather a long time, you will say, but not considered so then, before steamboats or railroads were invented (ocean steamers, I mean). We had another family on board who were not very pleasant companions. They kept a hat store in Plymouth and we were in the habit of dealing there. Whether father, knowing their desire to go to Canada, told them of the sailing of the ship, or how they found out, I cannot say, but they made themselves very disagreeable. They brought on ship with them a gig; and to annoy us, as they supposed, we used to hear them people think themselves very grand, "but wait till we get on shore, we will be riding in our gig when they, poor creatures, will have to walk on the bare ground." We boys could not help laughing at their remarks, and I dare say this made them worse; however, when we got to Quebec and on shore, we never saw anything more of them. We remained a few days in Quebec; father visited some of his former friends; and we were invited out to dine. Melons were getting ripe about this time and that was the first I ever tasted or saw, though they were rather scarce in: Quebec. At last, we got away in a steamer for Montreal. The Governor General, Sir James Kemp, was on board and a few other passengers. One old Scotch minister was rather too fond of his hot whiskey punch and in consequence, his tongue said many things he should have kept to himself. Sir James was very much annoyed to see a clergyman acting in so foolish a manner, and begged my father to try and keep him quiet. I think he behaved better after this. The novelty of this trip to Montreal was pleasant; it took, I think, nearly three days. When we got to Montreal, we remained at an hotel for a few days, to get our luggage on board a canal boat. When that had arrived at the part of the river, I think it was Prescott where we could take the steamer for Toronto. We had left Montreal by stage. Travelling at that time, either by stage or steamboat was not very rapid. We had plenty of time to look about us and see the country. I remember we boys used to take a run ahead sometimes and gather wild plums, they were not very nice. However in time, we reached Prescott and father went to visit some more old friends. I don't think we remained long in Prescott. A steamer, the Francis Drake, took us on board and we sailed for Toronto. We called at Kingston and perhaps other places, but the next I remember was Niagara. Here we waited some hours and took on quite a large party, of the fashion and elite of Toronto. I remember we had a treasurer, whether the town, county or provincial I can't say. Father was delighted to meet so many of the Toronto magnates. At last we got to Toronto, after being two and a half days on the steamer. Thus ended our travel, we were in Toronto, which was to be our future home for some time.

My father was entitled to draw 800 acres of land as captain of the army. We did not go on to Goderich, as first intended when we left England, but began to look out where we could settle on the land, to which we were entitled. On examining maps, in the crown land office he was thwarted and hindered in every direction. There was plenty of land for sale but none for giving away. My father had letters of introduction to the Governor, Sir John Colborne, who treated him very kindly, but told him he was powerless to help him in getting the land. The truth was, all the good land surveyed in the Province was taken up by the Family Compact; and if you wanted any, you had to purchase from them. Sir John gave him a hint of this so my father had to content himself for awhile. Archdeacon Strachan, afterwards Bishop Strachan, was very kind to us and sent his carriage for us to dine with him. People were all very kind at first, but when they found we were not rich and did not care for what they lived for, the pomps, etc. we were left alone. Toronto was a small place at that time. The Church of England was a small frame building on the ground where St. James Cathedral now stands. Father and mother went there first, but finding nothing that could do them good, went from one place to another. I think they finally settled down in the Presbyterian church. The minister was an excellent, Godly man whose name was ……….. About this time, after we arrived in Toronto, Captain Anderson, my own brother-in-law, married to my sister Betsy, who was living then at Penetanguishene, came to Toronto to see us. He invited my brother, Gustavus and myself, to return with him to Penetang for the winter. Captain Anderson had business to transact in Toronto with the Governor, Sir John Colborne, and Colonel Givens, the Superintendent General of Indian Affairs. In a few days he was ready to leave. A short time before his arrival in Toronto, I was down on the bay shore where we often went to fish, and saw an immense bark canoe turned bottom up on the land; a tent pitched, and some men (voyageurs) sitting about on the trunks or boxes near a fire, over which hung a large kettle. Being curious to know what they were doing, I went to speak to them and found they were French Canadians and halfbreeds. One of them spoke English and said they came from the Sault Ste. Marie; and some that they were taking some gentlemen to New York. I stayed some time with them and endeavoured to speak a little French, which I had learned at school in England, but made a poor fist of it. The next day on going down to see them I found they were just starting off. Three or four gentlemen in the centre of the canoe and about twelve men, six on each side, with paddles in their hands. At a word they all struck the water, singing one of the canoe songs which I had often heard my father sing in England. I watched the canoe till it reached the island, which it was not long in doing. There they made a portage and struck out for Niagara. I never expected to see them again; when however Captain Anderson was ready to go home, he informed us that he had been invited to go back to Penetanguishene in a canoe. Then I found out that this was the same canoe I had seen on the lake shore some days before. So we got ready as soon as possible. I might here mention in those days there were no Saratoga trunks and travellers packed what few things they wanted in bags or portmanteaus. In fact, a lady could travel hundreds of miles with her toilet tied up in a small shawl. The canoe was carried on a wagon; the men walked. These all started early in the morning; we got off later in the stage up Yonge St. We hadn't travelled many miles before we overtook some of the men who had been drinking in the taverns. They did not appear to very drunk, but in a fighting mood. They were stripped and appeared to be very angry and all ready to begin; but we did not see a blow struck. Our stage did not wait. The next tavern we came to there were some more acting in the same manner. I remember seeing some further on. I don't think, however, any of them came to the scratch; very different from an Irish fight, a blow first and an argument after. These men argued so long that they forgot what it was for, and never came to blows at all. We arrived at Holland Landing in the afternoon. A mill pond being close to the hotel, my brother and I tried our luck at fishing and caught some fine fish, much to the surprise of the people in the inn, who did not know that the pond contained fish. The canoe and the men came through some time in the evening, appearing none the worse for their journey of thirty-five miles; or of the whiskey they had drunk. In the morning we started to cross Lake Simcoe. We camped on a point in Couchiching Bay where the town of Orillia now is. It was then a dense forest. We did not see a house or a single person after leaving Holland Landing, until we got to Penetanguishene. The trip down the Severn River was sixty or seventy miles; and was very pleasant. Numbers of waterfalls and rapids, passed on the way, necessitated several portages. What appeared very wonderful to me was to see the two men lift that large canoe on their shoulders and carry it across the rough portages putting it carefully down into the river without any help. We left the Severn early on Sunday morning and were very glad to see my sister, who left England when I was two years old. Of course, I did not remember her; and I am sure, she did not know me. It was not long before my sister had both of us clothed with a dress more suited to this country than the clothing we brought from England. Good, warm blanket coats and very comfortable they were. The woods were quite close to the house in which we lived, and our first experience in chopping began there. We went out on the lake, occasionally, to shoot ducks, but I don't remember ever bringing any back. Fishing was not much better. We were rather too green for the Lake Huron fish. I remember going on a shooting expedition with Captain Anderson, to the north shore. A wigwam was built where we slept at night and the Captain went out with an Indian shooting; but I don't remember whether we shot any ducks. One day when he was away, leaving his pipe stuck in the bark, I thought I would try smoking. After a few whiffs, my head began to turn one way and my stomach, another. This did not suit me at all, so after going outside the camp for a minute, and getting rid of the tobacco smoke, I turned in again and lay on the ground, a wiser but I don't think I was a much better boy for the experiment. Thus ended my tobacco adventure. I never tried it again. Leaving this hunting ground, which did not prove very successful the Captain moved further down the bay toward Waubaushene. Here we came across Lieut. Impett, an officer of the garrison at Penetanguishene who was also on a shooting expedition. Pushing further down the bay, we came to a large tract of thousands of acres, covered with water, in which grew wild rice and rushes. Here was a sight enough to make a hunter wild with delight. The air, the water, the marsh, with its reeds and rice, was fairly alive with ducks. The thousands, the myriads, flying over our heads and swimming about wherever the water could be seen was the most astonishing sight I ever beheld. Our gallant hunters kept up a continuous fusilade and I also took my share of the sport but whether the powder was too weak, or whether the ducks were too far off, I cannot say. At all events, we did not load our canoes. Perhaps it was lucky, as they were not of the largest size and to load them would have been dangerous. This was our last sport for the season. Soon after the snow came and it grew too cold. About this time, Mr. Andrew Mitchell, a brother of my father's first wife, whom when the garrison on Drummond Island was surrendered to the Americans, came with the British troops and the other inhabitants, to settle at Penetanguishene, set up a store and fur trading establishment and engaged me as a clerk. I then left my sister and went to the new village three miles off. At that time there were not more than half a dozen houses in the village and these very small with the exception of W.A. Mitchell's frame building. The others were built of cedar logs, covered with bark, made warm by stuffing moss between the logs. Mr. Mitchell had also a brother, (an officer on half pay with their father Dr. Mitchell) who was also an accountant in the Indian Department. These, with a Mr. Simpson, another merchant, were the only English speaking inhabitants. The others were French Canadians and halfbreeds. The village was surrounded with woods in every direction. There was a military road leading to Kempenfeldt Bay on Lake Simcoe, on which, for a few miles from the Bay, a few farmers were settled. Then for a great many miles, only one house was to be seen, inhabited by a coloured man and his wife. The road had been cut through the woods to enable the soldiers and sailors to get to Penetanguishene, a naval and military establishment, during the war with the Americans in 1812. It was a dreary road and scarcely traveled except by the postman once a week on horseback, and the contractor, who supplied the garrison with beef. I remained with Mr. Mitchell nearly two years. I soon learned to speak French and a little Indian, and could manage the trading pretty well.

An incident happened to me when I was left alone which I shall describe, showing the danger to which I was a t that time exposed. My master was frequently absent, sometimes going to Toronto or Montreal, or going up the lake, looking up the traders and Indians who were indebted to him for goods advanced. I was rather surprised, one day, by a party of Iroquois Indians coming onto the store to get rum. These were perfect strangers to me, one of them speaking a little French. They got a gallon or more of rum and left a pack of beaver skins in my charge as a pledge for it and then went off. The next day they returned, in a state of intoxication and appeared very wild. Besides these, came many of our own Indians, Chippewas. These two different tribes hated each other. The Chippewas accused the Iroquois of killing their beaver, but had not the courage to attack them. In fact, whenever the Iroquois came near them they would runaway. I expected there would be a row, so I closed the store. The Iroquois wanted to get in for more rum, but I was afraid to sell them anymore while they were in that state of intoxication. Though they made several attempts to get in, I kept the store closed all day, waiting for them to sober off. The next day I expected them back. I opened the store, intending to take pay for the rum they had, give them back the remainder of their skins, and refuse to sell them any more, but what a surprise when I heard from the other Indians that the Iroquois had left the place and I never saw them again. My master was quite pleased when he returned and I showed him the pack of beaver, worth many pounds, which cost about ten or fifteen shillings. So those Iroquois Indians did not make much by robbing our own Indians after all, unless, which they might have had other packs. I seldom, in those days, locked the store door at night, but would take a blanket and a roll of flannel, lay them on the counter and wrap myself and go to sleep. I have awakened in the morning and found, lying on the floor, several men fast asleep. I don't think any of the goods were ever stolen except once. In the spring of the year the traders would come from different parts, bringing their young men with them. One night, there was a ball in one of their camps. I did not sleep in the store that night, but in the house. In the night I was wakened by a person who told me someone was in the store. I jumped up and ran down and found the back door open. I watched there, expecting to catch a thief as he came out. Whether he saw or heard me I cannot say, but while I stood in the doorway he made a bound and a spring, I was not very tall and went clear over me and away. I recognized my gentleman as one of the tradesmen, so I guessed he would be found at the ball. Going up there, I found him, to appearance, drunk. So I asked some of the men present to help me, as I wished to punish him. I told them to strip him, then took a strip of sealing wax from my pocket and with the aid of a candle, dropped some of the hot wax on a very tender spot. Such a scream and a bound as he gave, I shall never forget. Out of the house in a moment, I never saw him again. If the poor fellow is now alive, I dare say he would remember well the punishment he got. It was far better than the three months our beaks give nowadays. All he wanted out of the store was a few yards of ribbon to present to his girl, and which he did not give her after all. I did not care much for the Indian trade business. I will give you one more little story. K was called by the Indians, "Wahbishkindeby" , or "getting into scrapes". One night, I was alone in the store and three giant Indians walked in, they wanted rum. I asked them how they were going to pay for it and found they had nothing to give me so I refused to let them have any. One of them drew a long knife. I told him it was no use, they could not get any. So, after threatening me and finding it of no use they walked out. You may be sure I was not long in bolting the door. This was not the only time the Indians tried to frighten me. I told Mr. Mitchell, my master, that I thought it would be better for me to go back to Toronto, where my mother lived and improve my education. He consented to let me go and as my older brother, who had followed us out from the old country, was paying us a visit at Penetanguishene, and would return in a few days, I made all ready to accompany him. In the meantime, Mr. Mitchell had procured another clerk, so he was not alone. It was the beginning of winter and sleighing was bad, so it took us about a week to get to Toronto; one hundred miles. Now it takes about four hours, I think.

About this time my father was appointed postmaster and collector of customs at Penetanguishene. My brother kept a classical school in Toronto. Many of the wealthy members of the city were educated or prepared for the university by him. I studied with him for a short time but I was not cut out for a literary man. My father, being entitled to draw land, having received a captain's commission in the army, he selected land in what is now the township of Matchedash, on the North River, which empties into Matchedash Bay. He got a surveyor, who laid out eight hundred acres, being the amount he was allowed to occupy. This land was principally composed of prairie suitable for the growth of cereals, but especially root crops and hay. The remainder was covered with the finest white oak I ever saw. Here my brother Gustavus and I built a log house and took possession in the fall of the year. We lived alone all winter principally on Indian corn. Our nearest neighbour, Captain Anderson, had moved from Penetang to Coldwater, where he built a fine grist mill, Indian houses, a fine boarding school for Indian girls (which was also used for school purposes and church worship); also the house of the superintendent, doctor and school master or mistress. This place was six miles from our house, so you may suppose we were not troubled much with visitors. We amused ourselves in the winter by chipping down the fine oaks around the house. This was built on a sort of oasis in the prairie, with the river running before our door. A beautiful spot, quite like a nobleman's seat in England. The woods sloped gently down to the prairie, not at all like the usual clearings in the bush. Our company consisted of wolves, bears, deer and foxes. We caught a few foxes, mink, marten and muskrats. The larger animals we left alone, being quite satisfied with the distant sight or howl. Partridges and ducks were very plentiful before the winter fairly set in. We could shoot ducks on the river without any trouble and partridges among the clumps of thorn trees on the prairie. The winter soon passed away, and our father came to live with us, bringing a housekeeper and wife, cows and oxen. As soon as possible, the plowing of the prairie began, which was sowed to wheat and oats and we had a fair crop, especially of oats. We also grew potatoes, turnips and garden sauce. When haying time came, we moved enough to keep our cattle all winter. We also made arrangements to build a house for the remainder of the family. A saw mill had been built on the Severn River for the cutting of lumber to build the Indian houses. This, my father got the lease of. We took our oxen through the bush with the help of an Indian, hiring a man to work the mill. I don't recollect who cut the logs, but the man hauled them in and sawed them up. We had living with us, an Irishman, and he and I, with a large scow, that was lent to us, brought the lumber from the mill to where we were building our house. The distance from the mill to our house was about twelve miles. By starting early in the morning, we could make a trip in a day. When we had enough lumber to build a house, we gave up the mill and brought our oxen home. About this time, a gentleman, whom we had known well in England, came out to this country. His name was Captain Barrett and he could handle tools nicely. So, with a carpenter, and the two captains, our new house was built. The walls were made of two inch plank, and the seams were well caulked. There was not much planning about the house, except doors and stairs. Of course, the house was not very elegant, but it was warm and comfortable. Besides my mother, we had three sisters and sometimes young lady visitors. I don't think we felt lonely, as there was always plenty to do. Two young men, cousins[4], came out from Ireland, and stayed with us for some time. Their father was a solicitor in Dublin and they came out to make their fortunes in Canada.

The youngest of these, a lad about seventeen, and myself, took into our heads that we would make a trip to the States to buy cattle. We had an abundance of hay, straw etc., good stabling and sheds. So scraping together all the money we could, we made a start in the month of September or October, I forget which. I may here mention that cattle and sheep at that time were much cheaper in the U .S. than in Canada. On our way we met several droves of cattle coming to Canada, there being no duty at that time. We crossed Lake Simcoe in a steamer, there having been one lately put on, then we walked to Toronto, thirty six miles. From Toronto to Niagara by steamer, from Niagara to Buffalo we walked again, spending some time visiting the wonderful falls. From Buffalo, after changing our Canadian money for U .S. currency, or rather Buffalo currency, we started for Erie. On arriving there, having spent the night on the steamer's deck, we started out into the country, walking about twelve miles and seeing plenty of cattle about. We came to a halt and got lodging in a farmer's house. From them we got some idea of the price of young cattle, then we visited the farmers and bought wherever we could get suited. Those we bought were mostly young, one yoke of oxen was the best I ever saw for their size. For these we paid $40.00, the others ranging from six to eight dollars. Then we bought a nice mare, saddle and bridle and started. We had some trouble the first day, keeping our flock together, but after that we had no trouble, till the very last day. .We rode and drove by turns, getting along splendidly at about twenty miles a day, pasturing the cattle at night with the farmers who made a trifling charge. We could have doubled or tripled our herd, if we had chosen. The cattle would come out of the bush, and get among our flock, giving some trouble to separate them. Arriving at Black Rock, we had to ferry the cattle over the river. We remained in Chippewa a day, as we did not travel on Sunday. Again, at Burlington Bay, we had to ferry over the canal. Arriving at Toronto we again stayed over a day, visiting my brother, who was then a clerk in the bank of Upper Canada and had a nice house of his own getting. On starting again, we drove up Yonge St. to Bradford, then to Barrie, up the Penetang Road. Here our troubles began. For, from the road to Coldwater, we had to drive a long way through the bush. Here the cattle began to wander about, and though we hired a lad to help us, we had a trying job. So bad it was, that I sat once on a fallen tree and cried. However we got through at last all right. Still we had another six miles with no road before we got home. Then we had to swim a deep, broad river and so home. We lost one or two of our young cattle in the winter, either the cold or from the change of food. Still, I believe the venture payed. Our own herd of cattle increased rapidly, and we soon had about sixty head and a dozen milk cows. I have milked as many as eleven before breakfast. Our father was living with us, and we made, one year, about a thousand pounds of cheese. This prosperity did not last long. One day in the summer a heavy thunderstorm, about noon, with a hurricane of wind, caused the river to rise rapidly. We had a dozen of fine calves raising, which were in a field close to the house. They were all right when we went to bed, but when we got up in the morning, were standing up to their nicks in water. They never recovered from this, all dying from worm in the throat. The water from that out, never returned to what it was before and our fine farm was nearly ruined.

My father and mother, with my youngest brother and Uncle Frank, about this time went to live near Orillia on land which they bought. Here my father and mother died and were buried in the churchyard in Orillia. My sister's husband, who was doing business in Penetang, died and I went to her and carried on the business. My eldest sister, Sophia, mother of Sophy Henderson, was also married to Dr. Darling who was appointed physician to the Indians. He, with Capt. Anderson, and Rev. Mr. Brough, were all transferred to the Manitoulin Island to civilize and evangelize the Indians living on the island. My brother, Gustavus, remained at the North River but soon got tired and came to live near Penetang on land, bringing a wife with him. In October 1841, I got married to a Miss Mary Wasnidge of Toronto. Her brother kept a hardware store, and her sister was married to Dr. Workman, who, for many years, had charge of the lunatic asylum in Toronto. My poor wife lived with me a little more than a year, leaving an infant daughter, who was taken charge of by my mother. My sister, with whom I lived at Penetang, after my wife's death, was married to Mr. James Darling, with whom I entered into partnership, carried on the Indian trade and other business. I also became postmaster, which my father held before me, so we managed to get along fairly well. But my brother-in-law, having become deranged in his intellect, I purchased from my sister all the business. In the year 1846, I married my present wife, Jessie Campbell, the daughter of Lachlan Campbell, of the Commissariat Department, who came originally from Inverness in Scotland, settled in Quebec and was engaged in business in that city. Preferring a country life, he married a Miss Russel and moved to Megantic, engaging in farming. This, not being a very profitable business, when the rebellion broke out in Lower Canada, he accepted the offer of a good situation, as clerk in the commissariat, and was, during the rebellion, stationed at La Prairie, opposite Montreal. After the rebellion was put down, he, with his family, were ordered up to Penetang. It was here I became acquainted with him and in time, had the happiness of gaining his eldest daughter, Jessie, to be my second wife. Our married life had been a great joy and comfort to me. Ten children were born to us; two of them, a boy and girl died in infancy. The others are all grown up to man's and woman's estate, and are comfortably settled in different parts of this country and England. My eldest daughter Fanny, married to a Church of England clergyman, Rev. W.M.C. Clarke, is living in Kent, England. Her husband is a rector of the parish of St. Michaels, and they have a family of five children. My oldest son, William, is postmaster in Collingwood and his first wife, Miss Forbes died, leaving three children, a boy and two girls. He is again married to Miss B. Wheeler and their prospects of a long and happy married life are quite cheering. My daughter, Belle, is also married to Mr. John Leask and they are living happily together, with one child. Jessie married an Episcopal clergyman stationed at West Toronto Junction. A little boy helps to make their home happy. My son, Lachlan[5], named after his grandfather on the mother's side, has been very fortunate in his worldly prospects. Having become a surveyor, his occupation led him to the great North West, where he was employed on the boundary line between Canada and the U .S. and other surveys, under the Canadian Government. On being called to Ottawa, he was for some time, employed in the Crown land department. The C.P.R. offered him a situation in their land office in Winnipeg. Before the road reached the Pacific coast, he was ordered to select the terminus on that coast. Having selected the present site on which the city of Vancouver is built, he remained some time, assisting to build up that wonderful city. A change in the Land Commissionership of the company becoming necessary, he was appointed to that important position which he now successfully fills. The headquarters being in Winnipeg. He has also been married twice, his first wife was Miss Leask, by whom he had a daughter Isobel. His second wife, Miss Boddington, from England, helps to cheer him after the great loss he met ill losing his first. The next son, Heber, was chosen to be a minister in the Episcopal Church and from being assistant to the late Dr. O'Meara, at Port Hope, was chosen to be resident dean and professor in Wycliffe College in Toronto. A position in which he has a great opportunity for good. My youngest son Basil, has been, since he left school, in the Bank of Commerce at Collingwood and Seaforth. We have good hopes of his becoming a worthy follower of his brothers.

I must now go back to our settlement at the North River in 1832-33. Shortly after our settlement, three nephews of my mother's came out from England. Charles, Stanhope and Basil Rowe. They purchased land at Bass Lake, near Orillia and began farming. For young men, brought up in the city of London, they were fairly successful, being free from any of those follies which so many young Englishmen bring with them. They worked hard. My youngest sister, Caroline, after a while, was united in marriage, to her cousin Basil and to this day, with a fine family, are devoting their energies to making the once wilderness bear fruit for their united support. My brother James, after serving the Bank of Upper Canada for some years, was removed to London. And continued to manage the bank there successfully, so long as the parent institution lasted. Purchasing the bank premises in London, he has, with his wife and family, lived there ever since. Gustavus, leaving the land he had purchased near Penetang, removed to Port Stanley on Lake Erie. My brother James, owning a large tract of land near the town, Gustavus went onto this land, which at the time was all bush and covered with beautiful walnut, chestnut, beech and maple trees. Here he laboured for some time but suffering from fever and ague he was compelled to give this up. He moved to Ailsa Craig, going into business but getting the appointment of division court clerk, gave up the other business and continued this to his death. His widow and one daughter continue to live there at the present time. My sister, Louisa, remained in Penetang with her children for some time after I left. Her two sons, Andrew and David went to Chicago and are there with their families, engaged in a successful business. My sister and her daughters went to live in Toronto and after some years came to live in Collingwood, where she died at a good old age, cared for and wept over by one of her daughters and grandchildren. One of these latter was married to the Rev. Robert Plant, now engaged in mission work, belonging to the Episcopal Church in Salt Lake City. After working there for some time he was invited to Boston to his old parish in which he had worked successfully and he is there at present. Because of his leaving Boston, and hearing Mr. Plant, thought he would be a great help to him out west, and got Mr. Plant to return with him. He remained with the bishop some time and also had a call to Utah to take charge of a college for educating young men for missionary work. His health giving way he accepted the call to Boston.

I will now go back to my own history. When I went into business in Penetang on my own account in 1846, I still continued in the Indian trade. I was also postmaster and did a fair business with the officers at the garrison, also supplied the two war steamers, the Minow and Expirement with sundry stores. These steamers were stationed here for some years after the Fenian Raid. I remember before these steamers came, being called by the officer of the garrison, to assist in throwing up some earthworks, as a steamer was expected from Chicago, bringing a number of Fenians. Being a captain in the militia, I suppose he considered that I would be of help to him. Well, I worked all night throwing up the sand on shore so that his soldiers could pick off anyone attempting to land. I had no soldiers under me, as my company was scattered all over the country and no arms or ammunition. So I had to be captain, lieutenant, ensign, and privates all in one. Fortunately I had my sword, but just then the spade was of most use. Fortunately the steamer did not appear. This was my first experience of war, but not the last. I think I was more useful in the peaceful arts, as for some years I belonged to the County Council and attended the session held in the county town of Barrie, as reeve of Tiny and Tay. Here I had a good opportunity for practicing oratory. Whether it was that or my good looks, I never could find out, but I was invited to stand as member for the county. Having a rather poor opinion of my accomplishments in that line, I gratefully declined. What with my militia duties, post office, Indian trade, agent for the bank of Upper Canada, division court clerk, church warden, justice of the peace etc. Etc. I considered that I was serving my country all that could be asked of me. About this time I became acquainted with Colonel Gzowski. The road from Penetang to Barrie was considered a military one, but it was sadly out of repair and Colonel Gzowski was sent to superintend the work. My duty was to pay the men on the road; money being sent to me from the Bank of Upper Canada. I found Colonel Gzowski to be a perfect gentleman and very friendly. Every summer the late Colonel Jarvis came to Penetang with a number of officers and strangers on his way to the Manitoulin Island, to distribute presents to the Indians assembled there. He travelled from here in a tin canoe, capable of holding about twenty persons. A schooner was also employed to carry the presents and provisions. I met, or rather saw, several great men from the old country, members and ministers of the House of Parliament.

One year, two distinguished looking gentlemen called on me, after Colonel Jarvis had started, telling me they were just out from England, and expected to have gone up with him in his canoe. One of them was a son of the Duke of Northumberland, Lord …(Percy).., and the other, a British admiral, Sir Henry Hart. They were both great travellers and when his Lordship gave me his name, my heart gave a jump. I had often heard my father speak of the Duke of Northumberland as he was the colonel of his regiment, the Fifth of Foot, but I did not say anything about them at the time. The gentlemen said they had been recommended to see me as to the best way of getting them a conveyance to the Manitoulin Island. I told them, if they were willing to put up with such as I could procure, I would be very glad to assist them. When could you be ready, I was asked. I replied, "Tomorrow morning." "That would be all right," they said, so I set to work. I had two small birch canoes, and a tent and hired eight men, four to each canoe, a cook and a few utensils. I determined also to go with them as commodore; being used to travelling this way, having often gone over the same route. Well, we were pretty loaded, but I did not fear that we would get through all right. The distance was nearly 260 miles; as we had to keep in the channels on account of being so heavily loaded. Well, on the fourth day, we landed on the island, all right, having had fine weather and little wind and only a shower of rain. The gentlemen were well pleased with the journey and were quite sociable. I also got them good quarters. One, staying with my sister, Mrs. Dr. Darling, and the other with the other sister, Mrs. Capt. Anderson. The issue of presents had not commenced, so we were in good time. The gentlemen saw all that was to be seen; the war dances, feasts etc. In the meantime, I had not been idle but changed our two canoes for one large one, and as my company desired to see more of Lake Huron and also to visit the Sault Ste. Marie and Lake Superior, we embarked on the fourth day after our arrival. It was quite pleasant in the large canoe and we got on at a great rate. We visited the Sault, saw the men catching white fish in the rapids with their scoop nets, went a day's journey into Lake Superior, and then started for Penetang. On the way down, having got by this time quite familiar with my passengers, I told his Lordship about my father being in the same regiment with his father. He was very much surprised and pleased with the incident. On our way down, we passed a point which was always considered dangerous. So much so that the pilots who navigated the Hudson Bay canoes which left Montreal every season for the North West, in their agreement, were required to keep two leagues off in passing the point. It happened on the day we had to pass, that there was a strong breeze and the sea was pretty high. On leaving Killarney, where there was an Indian trading post, the men got some whiskey and were a little trouble in consequence. On nearing the point called Point au Grondine , (grumbling point), the men refused to go round, saying they would make the portage. The man who steered, in whom I had implicit confidence, said he would remain in the canoe. Another man, our cook, an Irishman, by the way, also remained. I asked my passengers, if they would risk it and they said they would if I would. "Oh", I said, "I'm not afraid." So six men got out and walked across the point. We had quite a distance to go in the canoe, about four miles. I took a paddle and I forget whether our passengers helped, but we got around safely although it was rather risky. The waves would strike sunken rocks and fly up into the air ten or fifteen feet. If any of these had fallen, or struck the canoe, it would have filled or been broken, but fortunately we escaped. The men in the canoe, when we took our six rebels in, were prevented by his Lordship from jeering at then or calling them cowards, etc. The man, a half breed, who steered the canoe, was the only real voyageur we had in our crew. The others, French Canadians though good for paddling, had not much experience otherwise, so that may account for their actions. His Lordship acted very nicely, giving the man who steered two sovereigns and the one in the bow one sovereign as a reward. We arrived in Penetang in good time, having travelled nearly all night to be in time for the stage. It could not be possible to have nicer men than these two noblemen. So easily pleased, so quiet. Sleeping on the rocks and eating no better than the men. I was very sorry when our journey ended and the parting time came. His Lordship, soon after his return to England, became the Duke of Northumberland and a minister. Sir Henry Hart I never heard of after. He was certainly a good Christian, getting up in the middle of the night and going into the bush for prayer.

My business progressed very evenly and quietly for some years with no change worthy of notice. My family growing quietly larger and well cared for by my good wife. My time, being so much taken up with the concerns of this life, I had very little leisure, so my dear wife had to bear the burden and well did she perform, more, far more than she should have; herself, young, with so many to feed, clothe and partially instruct. I now see what, at the time I did not notice, and of which she never complained. About the year 1853 the lumber business had quite a boom. Many mills were built on the north shore of Lake Huron and in the county of Simcoe. Was it to be wondered that I caught the infection? I secured a large tract of pine land on the Muskoka River extending far up into the country, about fifty miles long by one mile broad. I built a mill at the mouth or a short way up from the lake shore of Georgian Bay and about 18 miles from Penetang. Logs were plentiful and easily obtained. The market I expected was Chicago. No sooner had I plenty of lumber ready to ship than the market began to decline and I had great difficulty in getting sales. I sent a schooner load of twoinch lumber to Owen Sound for sidewalks and never realized a dollar for it. I believe it rotted in the pile. Some gentlemen from Chicago and Buffalo, with Mr. Charles Kelly from Collingwood, formed a company and made me an offer for the mill, which I accepted, they paying a fourth part down. They at once made great improvements in the mill and spent all their capital. I warned them at the time to wait till better times for lumber and saw with the machinery then in the mill. But they thought they knew better than I did, and the result followed as I anticipated. Of course I lost my three fourths of the purchase money. I have to thank a gentleman in the crown land department for this. When I took out the license to cut timber, before getting a title to the ground on which the mill was built, which I ought to have done, this gentleman in the Department said it would never do to sell the land at the mouth the river, as it was probable, before long, a town or city might be built there. This, where there was nothing but rock, was not very likely to happen. Besides, I only asked for a few acres and there would have been plenty of room for a city besides. I thought, however, it was no use to fight against his report, and I was rather too slack or modest to try, and did not understand boodle, and took for granted what I was told. I was too innocent by one half. When all this trouble and anxiety was bothering me, the Northern Railroad was being built and Messrs. McMaster and Patterson were having a lawsuit to obtain the land east of Hurontario Street in this town of Collingwood, about three hundred and fifty acres more or less. Having won the suit, the management of the same was offered to me, if I would take one fourth of the property, valued at $8,000.00. I consented to do so as I believed it would be a very eligible offer. I accordingly sold my business to my two nephews, Andrew and David Mitchell, who had been my clerks in my store at Penetang, and I moved over to this place with my family. I employed Mr. Gibard to survey the land into town lots, and sold quite a number at good prices. So rapidly did the town grow that there was no difficulty in getting it incorporated, and I was elected the first mayor. It was decided that a grist or flour mill should at once be built and I selected, with the advice of a good millwright, to build it on Pretty River near its mouth. Exactly at the mouth was an old flour mill which had been worked for some years by the late Andrew Melville, but at this time was useless. The Russian war was begun when I was building the mill and I purchased in the winter and stored ready to grind in the spring, or as soon as the mill would be quite finished, ten thousand bushels of wheat. Much of it was frozen grain from the back townships but this was all I could get hold of. The millwright thought I was wrong in buying such wheat, but I risked it, as there was a great scarcity and, in consequence of the war, there was a certainty of flour being very high. So it turned out, for out of this wheat, I made enough to pay for the mill. Things went on very well for a time and Collingwood boomed, but alas this was not to last forever. Towns, cities and villages were springing up everywhere. Land was laid out here in Collingwood by speculators, in town lots, as if we were to have a few million inhabitants. In fact one speculator, in making a speech, predicted that we I should soon outstrip Chicago, which would be a suburb of Collingwood. Mr. Stayner, the postmaster General, said to me, "I fear you are all going mad", and so it turned out. In about a year, or little more, lots that I had refused a thousand dollars for could have been bought for five dollars. Such a crash, I think no one ever saw. I don't believe there was a man or merchant in Collingwood, who, if his debts were paid, would have a dollar he could call his own. One man laid out two hundred acres in lots. He could not or would not, pay the taxes on them and they sold at tax sale for about a dollar and a half each. The man who bought made a fortune out of them a year or two after, selling some at three hundred dollars a lot. Well, here I was with my large and increasing family. I had been paying my instalments on my purchase, had sold my mill on the North Shore and lost twelve thousand dollars on it, had become security for about ten thousand dollars, covered by the notes I received from the saw mill. What could I do but become a bankrupt? I gave up everything and came out just as clean as the day I was born.

Still, I was not cast down, and tried, one way or another, to get the bread to eat and the clothes to wear. As I told my dear wife, who bore all this with resignation and never complained, that God would provide. Quoting the words of the Psalmist, "Never saw I the righteous forsaken, or their seed begging bread," and this was true in our case. By some means, god kept us from want. I believe, when I look back, that the best thing that ever happened to me was the loss of all my property. My heart was too much set on making money, so God took it all away, and now I can say with Job, "The lord gave and the Lord has taken away, blessed be his holy name." We struggled on till the year 1861 when I was given the postmastership of this town. Ever since, although the income at first was very small, yet, with care and economy, we have been well provided for and now, in our old age, we can say, " Hitherto, the Lord hath helped us." We are clear of debt, have a good comfortable home, all our children are well provided for and what is better than all, I believe they are walking and living in the fear of the Lord.

Notes by Carolyn Jane Hamilton (CJH) written in 1886 when she was 69 years old. She was the sister of Wi1liam Basil Hamilton (WBH) who wrote this autobiography.

CJH was born at Trewhiddle or Moor Cottage as it was sometimes called, in the County of Cornwall. She came into the world on 28th March, 1817. Her Father had the large brick house built with a very spacious hall. The two oil paintings of the Essington grandfather and grandmother were hung there and outside the hall was carried on to some length made entirely of glass in which the vines were growing bearing nice grapes. A nice lawn with a small island surrounded with water with a nice boat with plenty of ducks on the water and wild fruit on the island and in front of the house, a carriage drive which extended to the turnpike road. The father had a large iron bridge built across the river to the main road railed with iron rails for safety and lived there for a few years. The coach dog Leppard was still alive when the Hamilton's left England and lived for years after. They left the brick house and went to St. Austell where they resided at Elm Cottage for a few years, the property of Mr. Colenzo, father of Bishop Colenzo. The bishop when a boy used to play with James Hamilton and the boys. A high mount on the lawn with large elm trees and seats all around a flight of steps leading up to the mount; enter the lawn from a large gate on the carriage drive at one end and then pass the mount and drive to the other end of the lawn and go through the other large gate. They left in a few years and removed to St. Bennet's; a pretty place; an old nunnery with a high tower and a well of holy water with stone steps to approach the water machinery worked by the water to ring the bells for prayers; a large stone chapel at one end of the building with nitches for images; stone stairs leading up to the bedrooms and beautiful painted windows all from scripture scenes. (Jonah in the whale or rather leaving it; and our Saviour and the twelve apostles). There was a garden surrounding the building and a box tree one hundred years old. White moss roses grew all around the dwelling and were an emblem of purity. Well it is to be hoped the nuns were pure from all evil. The walls were hung with beautiful tapestry worked by them. A great many people used to sit in their carriages sketching the place. About a half mile off was the parish church with a peal of eight bells. When a marriage took place the bells sent forth their strain of music "One poor man undone". The place was named Lanivet; the name of the clergyman was Secombe. He was very tall and in a decline of which he died. His feet would touch the ground if he did not bend his knees well as he rode on a donkey to see the Hamiltons. It was too damp a place for Mother, so we left Cornwall and went up to Plymouth in Devonshire. St. Andrews Church was a fine old building; Mr. Hutchard being the clergyman and Dr. Haroker of the other church. CJH used to like Latin lessons from Mr. Hutchard with his boys and girl (she died of fever 1825 and was buried at St. Andrew's Plymouth, a headstone being placed at the grave by Mummy Barret.

The house was large and very high, nine large rooms, kitchen and cellars underneath. There were nice flower beds and a large fig tree against the stone wall surrounding the place; a carriage drive and immense wooden gate or double door with iron spikes and a side door for foot passengers, with a bell fastened inside to prevent intruders and a large iron bar across the front door. The figs never ripened. This place might have been half a mile from the garrison and Plymouth. My father used to take the two younger children for a walk after lessons to see the soldiers drilled. The Rev. Mr. Cole used to have a chat with him very often, perhaps he was the chaplain to the soldiers. They used to watch the first steamer passing by the garrison on her way from Dover to Calais, perhaps the first steam packet in Britain. There was a large breakwater to prevent the sea rolling too near the shore and a very large lighthouse built on a solid rock to prevent shipwrecks as much as possible. At the other end of Plymouth there was a very dangerous bay, full of rocks. A great many vessels used to be stranded there. Merchant ships laden with raw coffee and cinnamon used to be dashed to pieces and ail hands lost. The beach used to be sprinkled with these things after a storm. The name of the place was Deadman's Bay. Leppard lived there and a great many rabbits white, black and grey.

We then move to Powisland, four miles from Plymouth on the Tavistock road. The stagecoach from Exeter used to pass the house perhaps twice a week and Jack the donkey would keep pace by galloping three miles as he would not be outrun, very much to the driver's amusement as well as the passengers. Used to set off at eight o'clock with Louisa and the boys for school in Plymouth and back again with Hambley. The place belonged to Mr. Langmead. In England people were sometimes obliged to rent houses belonging to the property as well. A large square now belonging to the Powis family was the one they used. The floor of the church was stone so a large mat was laid down for comfort. The church had a great many Family monuments of life size near the altar; The Rev. Mr. Raynor was the clergyman, nephew to Sir George Arthur. There were several nice families about the place within a few miles; Capt. and Mrs. Collins, Mary Louisa, Julia, John and Frederick; then Mr. and Mrs. King, Richard, Robert, Frederick, Edmond Walter and the baby all living at Fancy a mile from Major and Mrs Nantes. Major and Captain Julian, had a most splendid house and grounds with such a beautiful swan moving about the water at the foot of the lawn. Mr. and Mrs. Briggs, sister of the Major had twelve children, three of whom were deaf and dumb (the only son and two daughters.) When the girl was born she was thought to be deaf and as each child came into the world it was said Mr. B. used to fire off a gun to see if they could hear and if they could he was satisfied. Also a lady named Wynter, widow of Dr. Wynter of the navy. The son was a Doctor in the navy too. Father and son died within a few weeks of each other. They had only one daughter, very nice people. Leppard was given to them when our family left for Canada. The dog would go to Powisland every day for a long time, hoping to see the family and would return rather downcast as he had always been petted by the family - at that time he was about 14 years old. There was a very pretty, very old church at Bickleigh. The Rev. Mr. Cole used to have prayers there and a sermon on Sunday afternoons. The Hamiltons used to go there if the morning had been wet. Bickleigh vale was a very pretty place; in the summer. The Collins family and our family used to go there for pleasure taking our dinner and tea in the woods, boiling the tea kettle for tea. They would drive a light wagon and gig for the whole party after breakfast. Did not they enjoy it? Yes they did, nice cherry pie, splendid raisin loaf and all kinds of good eatables and drinkables too. What a pity not to have heard of the family since leaving England. Even their cousin did not know where they were when written to.

Carolyn Jane Hamilton (CJH) (1817-1900) with her family sailed from Plymouth Dock, in England, on 11 June 1829. The passage lasted for 11 weeks and 3 days on the way to Quebec. From thence, they went to York (later Toronto) and then on March 4th, 1834 to Coldwater to stay for nearly two months with her half sister Elizabeth (mother was Louisa Mitchell), married to Thomas Anderson. Then she went to the North River and in 1840 on February 11th, she married her first cousin Basil Robert Rowe. Then they came to Goodwood Bass Lake and stayed there.

In 1829 or 1830, Sir JC (John Colborne – the Governor of ?Toronto?) sent the coachman and footman the open carriage for Sophia Sarah Hamilton and Carolyn Jane Hamilton to spend the evening and take tea with the family. They found it very pleasant walking about the grounds, CJH with Miss C and the two sisters Cozdelia and Jane who were very nice pretty children. Miss C. was quite handsome and their aunt was sister to Dr. Yonge of Plymouth.

An old friend of my father's, Mrs. Smale used to go to visit the Hamiltons often when they lived in York (later Toronto) and she used to get CJH and her cousin Mary to come and pick currants for the house which was very kind to say the least of it. The old lady used to call my father and Usher the handsome cousins when they were at Fort Niagara, that would be in 1780 or 90 a long time ago as it is now 1886. One day she invited James Hamilton, Sophia Sarah Hamilton, Francis J. Hamilton and Carolyn Jane Hamilton to a ball on her grandson's (Johnny's) tenth birthday. He and CJH were to open the ball but the latter was prevented doing so having a sore throat, very much to the disappointment of some parties. Johnny when a big fellow was Dr. J. Small of Toronto. His father Mr. James Small married Miss Ridout, sister of TR of the bank of Upper Canada.

In 1832 Captain Blois came from England and remained at Sir John Colborns. The young Colborn and Captain Blois went to Mr. Mudge early in the morning to go and get him to come for their usual bathing, but they could not get his bedroom door open neither could the orderly so it was burst open and then they found he had committed suicide. Miss Yonge was in a dreadful state for a long time. The Rev. Dr. Harris, Principal of the Upper Canada College used to go kindly and try to give her comfort in her affliction. He was a widower and in a year or so they were united in holy matrimony. Napoleon Bonaparte's china punch bowl covered the immense room floor at Derryford house, Devonshire, the seat of Mr. Langmead, uncle to Billy Langmead. The child lost his mother when a baby and his father Captain Langmead left Billy under his care as he was always with his regiment. It would be nice to know what became of Billy and the china but that cannot be as the last time he was seen by the writer was in May 1829 and now it is Mar. 4th, 1887. It is very nice to think of one's childhood and all the nice boys one used to play with making one feel quite young again. Well we hope to live together forever by and by where there will be no parting.

[1] This autobiography was sent to me by Pam Noxon (nee Miles) of the Canadian branch, a great-great grand daughter of James Mathew Hamilton. C.F.B.H.

[2] A brother of my great X 4 grandfather, John Hamilton. C.F.B.H.

[3] An error has crept in here. His father, James Mathew Hamilton was the second son of Rev. Nicholas Hamilton. Vide Chap XII and Appendix 1. C.F.B.H.

[4] These could have been two of Benedict Gillespie H, James Hamilton or William Cranston H, sons of Francis William Hamilton, all of whom settled in Canada or the U.S. C.F.B.H.

[5] He is recorded as being named Laughlan Alexander Hamilton. See Chap XVIII. C.F.B.H.