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THE SOCIETY'S MUSEUMSby C.R. Wall and G.E. Broomhall

Page

Front cover

TRACING YOUR ANCESTORS IN CANADAby Public Archives Canada

THE BORROWED FEATHERby Dorothy Dumbrille

DOROTHY DUMBRILLEby G.R. Arnott

WINTER RETREATSby Dorothy Dumbrille

SISTER M. CLAIR MACDONALD' C.S.C.by Slster Kathryn

D.M. McPHERSONby Ewan Ross

Cameron, C.S.C.

- THE CHEESE KING

MAXVILLE MAXIMSAnonymous 16

I REMEMBER, I REMEMBERby Hanna Chisholm

Editor: G.R. Arnott

Corresponding Secretary: Mrs. W.A. MacKinnon'Box 41 6,

Alexandria, Ont.Koc 1A0

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TRACING YOUR ANCESTORS IN CANADAAll the material in this article is Crown Copyright. The article conslsls of excerpts froma publication of the Public Archives of Canada. Permission to reprint has been obtainedthrough the kind cooperation of Mr. R.S. Gordon, Chief, Manuscript Division, PublicArchives Canada and Miss G. Maurice, Head, Research and Enauiries Section.

Sources for genealogical research in Canada may be divided into the followingcategor ies: census records, v i ta l stat ist ics (records of b i r ths, marr iages, and deaths),land records, military records, Loyalist sources. Each of these categories is describedin some detail in the pages that lollow.

CENSUS RECORDSCensus records contain the official enumeration of our population. There are lour

basic types: aggregate, those recording the names of heads of families, nominal, andagr icul tural . Census returns pr ior to 1851 are usual ly ei ther aggregate or enumerateheads of families only. Aggregate returns contain no names, but merely numbers ofpersons within various age groups, religious denominations, countries of origin, andlocations. The early returns generally l isted heads of households only, together withdetails as to size of the family, acreage in the case of a farmer, or the. occupation,t rade or profession of a householder. The census returns for 1851, 1861 and 1871 aremost lynominal , l is t ing each person indiv idual ly, wi th delai ls as to age, sex, country orprovince of birth, religion, racial origin, occupation, marital status, education, andphysical disabil it ies where applicable. There are also some agricultural returns, whichagain l ist heads of households, give lot and concession number of the farm, andprovide considerable detail such as acreage under cultivation, acreage in each crop,and cash value ol implements and stock.

Published check-lists of census records are available f rom our olf ices. The lists givelhe names of principal vil lages, towns, townships, cit ies and counties, and providereferences to the microli lm reels which contain appropriate census relurns.

Census records, particularly of the nominal type, constitute a valuable and lrequentlyconsulted genealogical source. However, the researcher must know the approximatelocality as the arrangement of these returns is by township within each counly. Smalltowns andvil lages are enumerated within their respective townships; larger towns andcities are l isted separately. In the case of cit ies, particularly the larger centres, it isvery helpful to know the ward or section in which the person lived. There are nonominal indexes to our census records.

RECORDS OF BIRTHS,MARRIAGES, AND DEATHS

Records bf births, marriages, and deaths constitute a key source for genealogicalinformation. In Canada recent records are in the custody of the various provincialgovernments. The civil registration of vital statistics did not become the generalpractice in Canada unti l i t was undertaken as a provincial responsibil i ty late in thenineteenth cenlury. Before that t ime the only l ikely source for such informat ion is localchurch records and to locate these the denomination and the parish must be known.

Registration of births, marriages and deaths in Ontario date from 1 July 1869.Inquiries should be addressed to the Deputy Registrar General, Macdonald Block,Queen's Park, Toronto.

(coxrrru:o ox prss zz)

THE BORROWED FEATHERDorothy Dumbri l le

lf Father Charlie were here, beside me, today, he'd vouch lor this, for it 's the truth,every word. He would smile and the l itt le wrinkles would play at the corners ol his eyesand mouth, just as Mary Maloney, his housekeeper at the time, and my own aunt bymarriage, so often told me. Only for her I should never have heard all this, and had shebeen Scotch lhe secret would have gone with her to the grave, but with the lrish it 'sdifferent, and it was too good a joke to keep.

You wi l l know, af ter hear ing of the br i l l iant brain of h im, why Father Char l ieafterwards became a Bishop. At the time, he was in his first parish, here, in Glengarry,and being born here, he understood his neighbours.

This was not a matter of tolerance, understand, but everyone had to be lriendlybecause at all social gatherings everyone came for miles around, and they alldepended on each other for help in an emergency, or to build a house or barn, or inil lness. Each held to his own principles and tried to understand that all men are notal ike.

It began one evening early in July, with the hay ready to cut and the clover in the airso strong to almost make you drunken with the smell ol it. Father Charlie had justfinished Benediction and was walking back to the Presbytery, his long soutane draggingagainst the buttercups and daisies of the roadside, his hair, black and thick on his headin those days, l i ft ing in the l itt le wind that did no more than stir the smallest leaves. ltwasn't far, his walk home, but buggies rattled by, leaving a cloud of dust, the people inthem cal l ing back, "Good evening, Father," and he rais ing his hand in his lami l iarmanner of b lessing them.

He reached the gate in the high hedge before he saw Andy MacPherson and DonaldMacLeod waiting for him, on the Presbytery lawn. My aunt, Mary Maloney, was alreadyhome from Benediction and stood defiant and protective on the steps, beside them. ltwas her job to look after Father Charlle, and here she would stand forever, if need be,unti l she found out what these two non-Catholic neighbours wanted. Deep within her,she knew they were f riends, but her very slance indicated that a thousand unseen boltswere on the Presbytery doors, as far as she was concerned, unti l they had proved theirerrand an innocent one.

"Why does she have to show her feelings so plainly?" Father Charlie thought. lt wasa fault she had always had and one he had talked to her about, again and again. Whenmy uncle was lying in bed, drunk, she could never hide it from the neighbours, butshowed it in every l ine of her face as she lied to them and said he was only sick. Butthat has nothing to do with this story. You wil l have to let me tell i t my own way, and formy own reasons keep to myself the real names of those mixed up in it. I shall do mybest to recall what Father Charlie looked like, how old he would be at the l ime, how shetold me he felt, under the circumstances, and how dilferent the Glengarry countrysidewas when I was only a baby.

Andy MacPherson and Donald MacLeod took a few steps towards Father Charlie,and Andy held out his hand. ' 'Wel l , Father, i t 's a f ine warm evening, whatever."

" l t is ," said Donald, " a very f ine evening indeed.""And good haying weather," added Father Char l ie, shaking hands with each.."My own hay is al l in," said Andy, shaking the pr iest 's hand vigourously, "and

that 's a record in these parts for the f i rst of July. "' ' l t is that , " agreed Donald.Father Char l ie kept wonder ing what they were there for : in his three years as pr iest

he had not seen a sign of them at his Presbytery, even to have a ceil idh. There wassomething on their minds, whatever it was. He nodded to Mrs. Maloney in the way healways did when he wanted to be alone with his parishioners and she swept into thehouse, her long, black taffeta skirts rustl ing about her high, buttoned boots, the ribbonson her hat writhing in torment because she was left out of the matter, whatever it mighlbe. Mind you, she would not have minded had they been members of her own Church,but th is was di l ferent.

"Come along, up onto the verandah" said Father Charlie, with one long leap clearingthe three steps, in spite of his soutane.

Andy and Donald followed and sat down in the two green rockers uneasily. Theirerrand was a diff icult one, apparently. Andy took off his straw hat and hung it over hisbony knee-cap( l wish you could have seen him once in a k i l t ! He had the nickname of"Andy Bony-knees.")and Donald got out his old pipe and tobacco and began to prodat the bowl of the pipe with t rembl ing f ingers.

' 'We've come, Falher, " he said, ' 'about the Twelf th of July. "Father Charlie raised an eyebrow, " And what have l to do with that, whatever?" he

asked, producing his own pipe from a sl i t in his soutane, then going back into i ts fo ldsfor his pouch "What about the Twelfth, Donald? lt is ol no consequence to my people,as you wel l know."

The pr iest 's mind was quick; i t sk ipped from one thing to another as fast as amountain goat. Never had he seen any di f f icul ty over the Orange Walk. His par ishionerssimply ignored i t as the s i l ly business he, himsel f , regarded i t . They in their turn,tolerated his own religious parades, and that was how it should be. Surely no agitationwas coming up now, and, if i t were, how was he to settle it without unpleasantness?

"What 's on your mind, Andy?" he asked, k indly."No trouble at a l l , you' l l understand, Father; i t 's just that we haven' t a whi te horse

for King Wil l iam, for the Parade," repl ied Andy, his Adam's-apple moving up and downin his th in neck, his narrow, pale, b lue eyes anxious. He was eager to get the businessover with and be gone.

Again Father Charlie raised an eyebrow, "And what would you be after wanting withme?" he asked, although his mind was already on its way to the east f ield where hiswhite horse, Mol l ie, was pastured. He was proud of Mol l ie, wi th her long white maneand tail, the only pure white horse in the whole of Glengarry that wasn't a rack ofbones. or soavined.

"To make a long storyshort , Father," said Donald, "we've come to ask you to lendus Mol l ie for the occasion of the Orange Walk, for King Wil l iam, who this year is to beAndy, here, to r ide."

"We know you well as a man without prejudice", said Andy, "and you'l l lorget whatwe wanl her for, and only remember we can't get a white horse anywhere, and havecome to you as a neighbour and l r iend, for help."

The two visitors leaned forward in their chairs, Andy turning his straw hat,embarrassedly, over his knotted knee, with long fingers, "We hope you're notoffended, Father; if we hadn't been pretty sure you wouldn't be, we'd never have cometo ask. "

Father Char l ie smi led and his eyes became very br ight , "Of course you wouldn' t , "he said, " and we' l l th ink the matter over careful ly, before deciding."

Donald took a deep breath and Andy settled back in his rocker, taking the hat fromhis knee and laying i t on the f loor beside him.

Father Charlie knew how they felt; they had taken the first plunge and, now theshock was over, could comfortably swim along with him until he told them either to diveor get out of the water. He wouldn' t keep them long in suspense, al though the thoughtof Andy in King Wil l iam's costume and on Mol l ie 's back amused him no end. Hewanted to laugh heart i ly , but gave only a suppressed chuckle.

' 'And you think Mol l ie wi l l do?" he asked."She's pure whi te, a l l over, and a grand horse, as you know," said Andy, "and

gent le, so I can r ide her."I t was a hard spot for poor Father Char l ie to be in. "Wel l , boys, I 'd l ike to obl ige,

you know that well. l f i t were left to mysell, alone, you coul'J have Mollie, andwelcome, and no questions asked, buy my parishioners would have to be consulted,and lknow, wi thout even approaching them, that some might object to see Mol l ie in anOrange Walk Parade. Can't you see that for yourselves?"

They nodded, miserably. Of course they had realized it, but had thought the priesthad such authority that nobody dared question it.

" lcan' l do i t , boys," said Father Char l ie, " l just can' t consent, and I hope youundersland. "

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"Wel l , anylvay," said Andy, r is ing, " i t 's great haying weather."" l t is that ," agreed Donald."And isn' t the countryside beaut i fu l?" said the pr iest , get t ing up, too, and standing

on the steps, looking over the fields where the elms were l ike giant, dark.greenparasols, " l sit here evenings and just look at the beauty God has seen fit to give ushere, in Glengarry. We are indeed blessed."

They were si lent , crest la l len; the interview was over, as far as the white horse wasconcerned.

"And we are blessed, too, wi th wonderful people," cont inued Father Char l ie," f r iends and neighbours. In the three years I have been Par ish Pr iest the doors of th ishouse have never been locked - nor those ol the barn either, as a matter of fact. lfpeople want anything and I happen to be away, they take it and return it, and noquest ions asked."

At f irst they did not grasp what he meant. They nodded, their farms were only a fewlots awa;,and they, too, never locked a door.

" Grand neighbours, " cont inued Father Char l ie, " and honourable, and l iv ingtogether in happiness and peace, whatever the Fai th."

Andy grunted, but Donald seemed to be thinking deeply."Oh, by the way, boys," Father Char l ie cont inued, " l have to be away at a

Diocesan meeting for three days next week. lf anyone is about, looking for me, tellthem I leave the evening of the elevenlh, wil l you?

' 'We' l l look out for strangers, Father," said Andy."Yes, strangers," said the pr iest , "but I l ike my fr iends, too, to know lam away. I

can't keep track of my belongings when away, however, for what happens then isunknown to me, but if anyone wants anything they can just come and take it, thenreturn it when finished with it - anything l ike a hay-fork, or a scythe, or something theyare not fortunate enough to have themselves - understand?"

"Thank you, Father," said Andy, quickening his steps to the gate and smi l ing backover his shoulder as he clamoed his hat on his head.

Donald's sheepish face showed no emotion but he followed, trying to keep up withAndy's long str ides.

Father Char l ie found Mrs. Maloney in the west room, kni t l ing. He knew she wasbursting with curiosity, as her needles flew faster and faster, but he went straightthrough to his study and settled down to prepare Sunday's sermon. He knew, now,what i t would be about, "Prejudices," He took down a book from his shelves, marked"Famil iar Quotat ions," and looked up the word "Prejudice." Harbour ing prejudiceswas wrong. Al l the t ime his f inger was running down the page he was worrying. Wheredid the l ine come between prejudice and loyalty? Had he done right? What would someof his par ishioners th ink when Donald and Andy came and got the horse and Andy rodei t in the Parade? They would recognize Mol l ie immediately. ' ' Prejudice" he read, ' 'Weare bl inded, in examining our own l ives, by innumerable prejudices, H-m-m,"He turned the page. "Every per iod of l i fe has i ts pecul iar prejudices." Nothing here onwhich to base a sermon. At the end, was a quolat ion f rom Alexander Pope.,,The difference is as great between the optics seeing and the obiects seen.Al l manners take a t incture f rom our own, or some discoloured through our passionsshown;Or fancy's beam enlarges, mult ip l ies, contracts, converts, inverts, and gives lenthousand dyes."

Now, I 've already told you that Father Char l ie af terwards became a Bishop and to myown mind i t was because of f lashes of sheer genius that he had; or maybe, in a way,they were miracles. This time he seemed to have been led to that book, for although hedid not, at f i rst g lance, understand exact ly what the author meanl, there was one wordthat gave him a dazzl ing idea. l t stamped i tsel t on his mind and then the resl of the planfol lowed. He threw the book aside and found himsel f beginning a prayer, thenremembered in t ime that to pray about a pract ical joke might not be acceptable,al though he had always thought of God as Someone with a sense ol humor, or whywould He give i t to His chi ldren, made in His own image? " Dye" he said, over andover, " H-m-m-m."

He realized, now, he had spoken to Andy and Donald from his heart, because theywere neighbours and fr iends, and not f rom the requirements of h is cal l ing. Here was away out of the predicament in which he tound himsel f , wi thout hurt ing their feel ings.

" Mrs. Maloney!" he cal led, loudly, f rom his desk.She came, running, the quest ion st i l l in her eyes, but now, too, hope, for she fel t her

curiousity was to be satisfied.' 'Yes, Father. God bless my soul , but you look as though you had struck a gold

mine|""Mrs. Maloney," he said, "you are a woman to be trusted; that I know wel l , and I

am going to conf ide in you."' 'Yes, Father," she said, her face l ight ing up." Have you sti l l that hat with a great plume of a feather in it you wore to Maggie

Sul l ivan's wedding a year ago?""Be quiet , Father; i t 's making fun of me you are, and ldon' t b lame you. I never

liked lhat hat, anyway, and wore it on that one occasion only, lor I lelt si l ly in it, I didindeed. ' '

" But you sti l l have it?" he asked, anxiously." l t 's st i l l in the at t ic , I haven' t a doubt."' 'And are you wil l ing to give it up for the wil l of God?" asked Father Charlie." ls it daft you are, Father? What could God possibly want with an old hat?"' ' Litt le things often help in doing the big things, " he replied, ' ' now run up and get it

for me and then l ' l l tell you what we want it for. lt 's a lot of help I 'm going to be needingand you're the very woman to assist me, whalever. I thought I was doing the right thingtoday, because of friendship, but now it troubles me a bit and has to be set rightwithout anyone being hurt. lt 's all very well to l ive in peace with the neighbours but youhave to, when it comes down to the fine thing, be loyal to what you believe. Mind you,that's nothing against Andy and Donald, who were here today. They're loyal to whatthey bel ieve, but I can' t go but so lar . . . "

She didn't know what he meant. Her eyes were fixed on his face, waiting for anexplanation.

"Who was it said that you may, in this world, get a man to step over his counter fora moment to pass the time of day with you, but wild horses could not drag him out ofhis shoo?"

" ldon' t know, I 'm sure; Inever heard anyone say i t , " she repl ied, st i l l s tandingthere.

" Now run along and get the hat," he urgedBut all the way up the attic stairs, and while she was looking for the hat in the trunk

in the hot room under lhe eaves, Mrs. Maloneywas talking to herself, "The man lsclean daft," she muttered, "wanting my old hat and feather, but he must have areason; there's sense in everything he does. "

The Twelfth was beautiful. Andy and Donald drove from the Corners in Donald'sbuggy and behind his old mare, which would be lef t in Mol l ie 's stal l in Father Char l ie 'sbarn, unti l they returned in the evening. They knew they were quite safe, for hadn'tFather Charlie said he would be away for three days, and hadn't they seen, with theirown eyes, Mrs. Maloney drive away to the vil lage with the mail-man? They had beentalking on the verandah of the store at the Corners when she drove by and she had,actually, smiled at them. Andy said she had raised an arm as lhough to wave, butDonald thought he must be mistaken; i t wasn' t l ike her to do such a th ing. Anyway,they were both gone, the priest and the housekeeper, and there were no neighboursnear enough lo see them as lhey got down f rom the buggy in the early-morning dusk.

Andywas resplendent in his King Wil l iam uni form, wi th the dark blue trousers wi th astr ipe down the leg, the coat wi th gold t r immings and a great hat wi th a wide br im anda small feather stuck in the band of lhe crown. The finishing touch was the great swordhanging l rom his bel t , which kept t r ipping hirn up cont inual ly. Donald was in a whi teshir t wi th pale-blue arm-bands and an orange t ie, a blue sash and trousers l ike Andy's,wi lh a str ipe down the leg.

Donald stayed outside the stable whi le Andy went in to get Mol l ie. l r was qui te dark rnthere but they could hear her munching her oals.

o

"Good gir l , " soothed Andy, "steady now, gir l , steady, Mol l ie!"He had no trouble at all in leading her out but, before they appeared in the doorway,

Donald heard muttered exclamat ions f rom Andy which he could not understand.To Donald, the dayl ight revealed Mol l ie wi th start l ing suddenness. She was dyed

green, f rom head to ta i l , every inch of her. Her long mane and tai l were of a l ightergreen and she was beaut i fu l , but not for an Orange Walk Parade. On her head, wi th herears coming through holes in the br im, was a large, f lopping hat and drooping from i t apink feather. On her mane was an orange r ibbon.

, ,Holy Smoke!" said Donald, "we might have known Father Char l ie would pul l of fsomething l ike th is!"

" lseen the hat on her head when I went in, but i t was too dark lo see the colour!"splut tered Andy.

"He'scrazy, thatpaintwi l l k i l l her,"saidDonaldcomingclosertostrokeherside." l t a in ' t paint ; i t 's just a dye of some sor l - a vegetable dye," said Andy, smi l ing

rueful iy. " l wish I had that feather," he mused, " i t sure is a beauly. '"Wait a minute," said Donald, looking over the feather apprais ingly, then taking the

dejected one already in Andy's hat and throwing i t in the long grass, "You might aswel l have i t - just borrow i t , nobody wi l l recognize i t . "

" But what i f they do?", , l t must belong to Mrs. Maloney and her away and al l , " encouraged Donald, "You

just wear i t . ""She's in on this too," said Andy, "Now we know why she waved al us!" They

laughed so hard that their horse jumped, and started to walk away'' tWel l , there's nothing for i t but to take Mol l ie back into the barn," said Andy,

rueful ly, ' 'and what wi l l I do wi thout a horse?""Walk," said Donald, gr inning, "ain ' t i t an Orange Walk? Maybe you're meant to

walkl Never did I see such a feather!" he added, admir ingly.And that was why King Will iam walked on that memorable Twelfth in Glengarry. Andy

and Donald joined the boys at the Corners, at the Orange Hall, and lhe fifes began toplay, the drums to beat, and they al l marched away lo the l i l t ot "The ProtestantBoys. "

As I say, I would never have known a thing about this only that Mary Maloney told meal l about r t , even how, the day she got home, she found, on the doorstep, the borrowedfeather, wrapped in a blue box and t ied around with the orange r ibbon of l Mol l ie 'smane.

' 'Glorv be!" she exclaimed, ' 'haven' t they returned i t ! "

EMINENT GLENGARRIANS

DorothY Dumbrllle

G.R. Arnott

The storyof "The Borrowed Feather" has all the fun and interest of a well-told tale.It is neverlheless true, but with names changed and details added. Although it waswritten years ago, it is now published for the first t ime, and the author describes itsor ig in as fo l lows.

"The story was told to me by Father Gauthier, who died not long ago. The incidenthappened to Father Gauthier's uncle who was a parish priest in Lochiel and who laterbecame Archbishop. "

In the story the author has painted a word-picture i l lustrating the brotherly affectionand respect that has existed for nearly two hundred years between the lwo mainrel ig ious groups in Glengarry, known col loquial ly as Cathol ic and Protestant.

Looking at another aspect of Glengarry l ife, Dorothy Dumbril le is one of the lewwri ters who have portrayed real ist ical ly the French-Engl ish fact in Glengarry. This shedid in her novel "Al l This Di f ference" publ ished in 1945. Here she looked with c leareyes and a compassionale hearl at the differences that do exist. She did not ignore orbrush aside the fact that our two language groups have some different ideas andoutlook, some different ideals and objectives and, above all, dilferent languages.

But, just as Glengarrians have been able to l ive together peacefully and productivelynotwilhstanding some differing religious beliefs, so we may also work and live togetherin peace although there are some cultural dilferences ; because we are all members ofthe same fami ly, the Canadian fami ly.

Such is the hope and prayer of Dorothy Dumbri l le.Dorothy is the daughter of the late Venerable Archdeacon R.J. Dumbril le and she

was born at Crysler, Ontario, September 25, 1897.In reviewing the l ife of Mrs. James T. Smith, n6e Dorothy Dumbril le, the

overwhelming feeling is, " How could one woman do so much?"Besides writ ing ten books and hundreds of articles, she has had about hall a dozen

other vocal ions and avocat ions.For example, she served for sixteen years on the St. Lawrence Parks Commission

where she was principally involved in the planning and creation of Upper CanadaVi l lage.

She has been a housewile in Alexandria for over half a century.She was for twenty years a book reviewer for the Globe and Mail.Dur ing the f i rst Great War she served from' l 91 6 to 191 9 in Ottawa in the Department

of Mi l i t ia and Defence.From I920 to 1924 she was a pr ivate secretary in Phi ladelphia.Years were spent learning her t rade as a wr i ter . Then the Second War inspired the

oublication of her first book, and nine others were published therealter.

1 94019421 9431 9461 94519471 9541 9561 9621 967

" We Come, We Come'" Last Leave"' 'Watch the Sun Rise"' 'Stairway to the Stars '" Al l th is Di f lerence"" Deep Doorways"" Up and Down the Glens"" Braggart in my Step"' 'The Batt le of Crysler 's Farm' 'A Boy at Crysler 's Farm"

PoetryPoetryPoetryPoetryNovelNovelHistoryHistoryHistoryChi ldren

S. Morgan-Powell, the former Editor-in-Chief of The Montreal Star was, in his time,the best drama crit ic and one ol the best l i terary crit ics in Canada. He wrote, " MissDorothy Dumbril le is one of the new voices in Canada in whom I have faith. She has akeen feeling lor le mot juste, a fine sense of rhythm, and a humanitarian outlook on l ifewhich she expresses in l ines that l inger, in phrases that stir the imagination. She dealsin a simple and very moving manner with the elemental emotion aroused in family l i le.It is because it is simple and goes straight to the heart, and yet is devoid of meresentimentality, that it possesses such a potent appeal."

For her services to the Canadian National Institute lor the Blind, she was elected anHonorary Member.

She has served on the Executive ol the Canadian Authors' Association and was theAdmittance Secretary.

She has made puppets and has put on shows with her crealions, written radiodramas, composed music, lectured, given poetry readings, has a large and beautifulgarden and a house. Sowhatdoes DorothySlqwith her spare time? She paints and haspainted dozens of oils chiefly of Glengarry scenes and historical subjecls.

Dorothy Dumbri l le 's husband, James T. Smith, is the former pr incipal of the HighSchool in Alexandria. When he was a young teacher he brought his bride, one dark andstormy day, to l ive in Alexandria. There they have lived ever since.

Together they have known sickness and health; long periods, some crit ical, inhospital . But, notwithstanding these problems, their inspiring influence has been felt allover Canada and beyond.

WINTER RETREATSWinter retreats before the sun,

Reluctant, even yet, to go,And in the pocket of a hil l

Flaunts her last handkerchief of snow.

The wil low waves its golden wandAs, in the creeks and forest bogs

An orchestra begins to tune;The f i rst c lear piping of the f rogs.

I fancy chimes of t r i l l iumsRing si lent serenades to Spr ing,

That daffodils for very joySet up a golden trumpet ing.

That tu l ips raise their f ragi le cupsTo toast sweet Spring; dew wine is sweet-

Then shatter them upon the grassIn petal fragments at her feet.

She grows no older with the years;More perfect in her blossomings;

Dear Spr ing: come soon and l inger long;The world has need of lovely things.

Dorothy Dumbrille' 'Stairway to the Stars"

EMINENT GLENGARRIANSSlster Mary Clalr MacDonald C.S.G.

Sister Kathryn Cameron C.S.C.

Teach us, good Lord, to serve Thee as Thou deservest:To give and not lo counl the cost;To fight and not to heed the wounds;To toil and not to seek for rest;To labour and not ask for anY rewardSave that of knowing that we do Thy wil l.

St. lgnatius LoyolaThis sums up the l i fe and goals of Sister Mary Clair C.S.C. (Cecel ia MacDonald)

Sister Clair is a descendant of Donald (Mac lan Dhu) who with his brother, John,arr ived in Canada from Inverness-shire, Scot land in 1786.

In the Ouebec Gazette, September 1786, is th is entry."Arr ived ship MacDonald f rom Greenock, wi th emigrants, under Captain RobertStevenson, nearly the whole of a parish in the north of Scotland, who emigrated withtheir pr iest , Reverend Alexander (Scotus) Macdonel l , and 19 cabin passengerstogether with 420 steerage passengers to better their case, up to Cataraqui."(Cataraqui was the old name for Kingston.) However, after leaving Quebec, theycontinued in flat-bottomed boats, f inally reaching what is now Lancasler, whereSuther land's Creek empt ies into the St. Lawrence. They marched through the vi rginforest, across the soft f lat land bordering the river, at last arriving on a ridge of hil lswhich they cal led St. RaPhael 's.

Donald and John first settled on Lot 12 in 3rd Concession, Charlottenburgh. Twogenerations later Donald's descendants settled farther north in the 12th Concession ol|harlottenburgh now called the 4th Concession of Kenyon. Cecelia was born at Lot16/4Kenyon, tne daugnter of Dan A. (Alex Donald) MacDonald and Mary Cather ineMacpherson. Financial conditions were poor in Glengarry so, alter working somewinters in the lumber camps in Wisconsin, Dan bought th is farm. "Hi l lcrest Farm", asit is known today, is the homestead of his son Daniel, a progressive farmer'

Cecel ia was the second of a fami ly of th i r teen. She and her oldest brother, A. Clareattended P.S. No.9 Kenyon and the Alexandr ia High School . Clare enl isted in 191 6,al though under age, and was ki l led in act ion at Cambrai , France, in September 1918.This was a great loss for Cecel ia and her fami ly.

After f in ishing High School , she at tended Teacher 's Col lege in Ottawa. Short ly af terth is her father died. She taught at S.S. No. 9 and No. 5 Kenyon for s ix years in order tohelp her mother who was in del icate heal th. At her mother 's death, Ceci l ia becamecounsel lor and advisor to her brothers and sisters. Today Sister Clair st i l l l is tens wi thinteresl , concern and understanding to the v iews of the present generat ion.

Her God-given fai th was strong, her hope unshaken, her love deep and genuine. Shef i rmly bel ieved that God was cal l ing her to a l i fe of dedicat ion. In 1926 she acceptedthe challenge lo become a Sister of Holy Cross. Two years later as " Sister Mary Clair"she pronounced her vows of Poverty, of Chastity and of Obedience.

She resumed her teaching career as a Sister of Holy Cross at lona Academy, St.Raphael 's in 1930. This bui ld ing, once the Bishop's House was constructed in 1808. In19' l 3, the Reverend D.A. Campbel l , Par ish Pr iest , had the Bishop's House, reno-vated. He invited the Sisters of Holy Cross lo take up residence there and to teach atlona.

Desoi te the at t ract ion of publ ic inst i tut ions of learning, convent educat ion had i tscharm. lt is not surprising that men and women of every shade of belief and professionhave chosen for their daughters a convent education. And so lona grew. ln 1924,Reverend D.A. Campbel l , wi th the support of h is par ishioners, bui l t lwo wings to theBishoo's House.

10

Sister Clair knew the fatigue of wading through deep snow, experienced theweariness of slow journeys over bad roads, shared the dire poverty that sometimescomes to dwell in the cradle of a growing community, but in her calm and quiet wayshe radiated lhe warm sunshine of God's hopeful love.

She at tended summer schools at the Agr icul tural Col lege in Guelph 1934-36. In acountry school agriculture is quite an asset and many happy hours were spent in thegarden and nursery where they planted evergreen sapl ings. Laler, these weretransplanted on the school grounds and in the surrounding area. Today these pines andspruces beaut i fy the Glengarry countryside. In f ront of lona Academy there is asemi-ci rcular stone wal l bui l t by the seminar ians of the Col lege of lona. A hort icul tur istfrom Toronto visit ing the school in 1934 suggested that the wall would make anexcel lent background for a rock-garden. Accordingly, he sent hundreds ol p lants andthis was an ideal project for the Agr icul ture c lass. At th is point , i t should be noted thatin 1914 Reverend D.A. Campbel l had the f i rst seminary, the Col lege of lona, " the logcabin of the great Bishop's day" converted into a high school . Later, th is became theCommercial Col lege staf fed by Sisters of Holy Cross.

In 1944 Sister Clair received a B.A. degree from Ottawa Universi ty and in 1945 shereceived the Diploma of High School Assistant from the College of Education inToronto. The summers of 1946 to 1948 were spent at Notre Dame, lndiana studyingTheology.

Forty years in a boarding school at St . Raphael 's teaching grades Vl to Xl l l gaveSister a weal th of exper ience. Liv ing and breaking bread with gir ls f rom Canada, U.S.A.and South America proved enr iching and interest ing. Indian, Spanish, French andEngl ish gir ls came to lona to share their cul ture. For many of these gir ls i t was theirf i rst t ime away from home. In September there were heart-breaking, lonely hours.Sister devised recreations to cheer them. Movies and shopping sprees were rare, sothere would be a hike up the North Road to follow a trail through the woods, with birdsong and sunshine, then to lona Park where they gathered dry leaves and twigs tomake a fire on a flat stone, to enjoy a marshmallow roast. These were the entertainingmoments which al l savoured - memories of s ing-songs, dancing and joyous laughter,the loneliness soon forgotten. lona was a happy home. Each season shed its beauties,made br ight by f lowers, l i lacs and singing birds. In winter, ski ing, toboganning, skat ingand sleigh rides were the popular sports. An atmosphere of love, joy and happinessoervaded this hal lowed soot l ike a benedict ion.

By 1965 the number of resident boarders and day pupi ls increased. A modern schoolwas bui l t to accommodate about 80 boarders and 250 students.

The "Spr ing" of lona days brought l i fe, happiness, growth and wisdom - yearspassed. "Winter winds" brought worr ied minds. Without support f rom the Departmentof Educat ion, the Sisters of Holy Cross were obl iged to c lose lhe doors of lona af ters ixty years dedicated to the educat ion of youth. However, the Stormont DundasGlengarry Separate School Board purchased lona and i t is st i l l a thr iv ing school .

With the c losing of lona, Sister Clair moved to St. Margaret 's Convent in Alexandr iawhere she cont inues to give and does not count the cost, where she st i l l labours anddoes not ask for any reward save that of knowing that she does His Wi l l -

11

EMINENT GLENGARRIANSD.M. MacPhsrson - The Cheese Klng

Ewan Ross

One hundred years ago in 1870 there was no cheese industry in Ontario noranywhere else in Canada. Fifty years ago there was at least one cheese factory inevery school section in the dairy regions of Ontario and Quebec. These factoriesexported some 235,000,000 pounds of cheddar cheese each year which sold lor 1O1/z q,per pound or roughly $25,000,000. Today the industry has shrunk to about a th i rd of thesize it was in its greatest days, the local cheese factory has disappeared and beenreplaced by large central p lants but the cheese industry is st i l l a substant ia l one.

Most Canadian cheese product ion today, as always is 'Cheddar Cheese' . Cheesehas been used as food for thousands of years and with the exception of butter is themost nutrit ious ready to eat dairy food. Unlike butter it does not require ref rigeration tokeep it f i t for food. Encyclopedia Americana's article on cheese says, " it is verydoublful if there is any basic food which excels cheese for high quality, compleleprotein, fat and the essent ia l minerals, calc ium and phosphorous, a var iety of v i taminsand other nulr ients".

Cheddar Cheese (named for the parish of Cheddar in Somersetshire, England, ' l 8miles south west of Bristol where cheese of this type has been made since the 17thcentury) is madefromsweet,whole mi lkwhich is heated by steam, then coagulated orsoured by rennet. At this stage if coloured cheddar is wanted a vegetable colouring isadded. Then a'starter 'o l the proper bacter ia cul ture is added and the curd al lowed tosett le out of the mi lk. The whey is then drained of f , the curd cut in smal l p ieces andsalted. Then the curd is put in forms the shape of the finished cheese and subjected toheavy pressure to further remove whey. After some hours in the press the cheese isplaced in a cool room and allowed to cure for at least three months. The marketingsystem as well as the market has varied over the years as has the price but cheesemaking even today with a hundred years of technical progress behind it is sti l l as muchan art as a science; the marketing of cheese perhaps even more so.

As wil l be seen f rom the above short description of cheese making no elaborate plantis needed. What is needed is a man with knowhow with access to a certain and steadysupply of milk. Over the years the ratio of milk to cheese has varied slightly, lrom g to11 pounds of milk to a pound of cheese as consumers demanded a more or less drycheese. The uses made ol the whey, the nutrit ious by-product of cheese, have variedfrom pig-feed to human food of various sorts. The cheese making plants too havebecome large and scientif ically run but sti l l depend on a group of farmers finding itf inancial ly prof i table to produce mi lk for cheese making.

Today we think of the cow as the foster mother of the human race. Ourgreat-grandparents thought of her as a draft animal who would make meat when herworking days were done and for short periods each year after the birth of her calf wouldproduce a bit of milk to make what butter they needed for their own use. Here andthere a family with a dairy background in Europe might make cheese - a product moreor less l ike our cottage cheese of today. The very exceptional family would carry theprocess a slep further and squeeze some of the whey out of the curds and therebycome close lo l rue cheese making.

The economics of producing mi lk cheaply are st i l l being argued with greatvehemence today but a hundred years ago the farmers within a 50 mile radius ofCornwall were in an ideal position to produce milk. A large percentage of the land hadbeen cleared and limber as a cash crop had gone and nothing had replaced it. A lot ofthe land had been cleared for the sake of its t imber and was of l i tt le or no value forcrops as it was too stony, too wet or too poor but it did produce grass from Maythrough October and every farmer had enough good land to produce enough grain andhay to winter his stock. Railways and canals connected this area with the large centresof population. Montreal as well as being a large consumer itself was becoming a majorexport porl and its businessmen had connections all over the world and particularly inEurope and Great Britain with their hungry mill ions.

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In 1870 all that was lacking for a cheese industry to grow up in the area was thecows to produce the milk, the factories to process it, the organization to sell i t and aman with the vision and abil ity to bring all these diverse factors together.

David Murdoch MacPherson proved to be the man thal was needed.On November 17,1847 on lot 15, Concession 1 of Lancaster Township a son was

born to John MacPherson and his wife Catherine Cameron and was given the christiannames of David Murdoch. John MacPherson had been born in 1798 at Kingussie,Scotland and had come to Canada and become a progressive farmer. Catherine, hiswife was the daughter of John Cameron M.L.A. of Fairfield Farm, Summerstown. TheCamerons were natives of Rannoch in Scotland but Catherine was a third generationCanadian and her family had come to Canada as United Empire Loyalists. John andCatherine MacPherson had nine children of whom the two youngest would become wellknown outside the boundaries of their native Glengarry. Number eight, Donald Andrew,born May 29, 1841 went to North Dakota as a young man and had a distinguishedcareer in banking. When he died on August 4,1920 at Deadwood, North Dakota he wasPresident of the First National Bank of Deadwood, had been a State Senator and hadonce decl ined the nominat ion to run for governor of the state. Number Nine, the manwe are interested in here, David Murdoch was always known as'D.M. 'He got thetypical education of the day at the local school and learned to be a good farmer. OnApril 26, 1861 his mother died at the age of 57 and for the next f ive years JohnMacPherson's fami ly had no mother. No doubt at th is l ime D.M., as the youngest ol thefamily learned to be handy around the house and particularly about the milk which wasregarded as being strictly in the women's department in those days.

On March 16, 1866 John MacPherson was married again to Phoebe Marjerrison ofRoxborough Township and Phoebe was that rare woman who knew how to makecheese. Tradition has it that she taught D.M. the art. lt is certain that to this day theMarjerrisons maintain a deep interest in the cheese industry, a family tradition. lt isalso certain that D.M. learned to make good cheese and there were no college courseson cheese making in those days nor any place to serve an apprenticeship. So we mustassume that to Phoebe must go the credit for inspiring the genius in D.M. that was loput mill ions in the pockets of the as yet non existent dairy farmers ol the area.

On December 18, 1869 John MacPherson died and D.M. took over the fami ly farm.On January 17, 1871 he marr ied Margaret McBean of Montreal . The McBeans hadbusiness connect ions in Lancaster where Margaret and D.M. probably met. In thecourse of the next f ifteen years they had a family of f ive girls and lhree boys. Many oftheir descendants sti l l are well known in the area so the family should be detailed:Cather ine b Dec. 19, 1871 m A. Stewart McBean of Montreal and LancasterLi l l ian b July 14, 1873 m John D. MacArthur of LancasterJohn Alexander b Dec. 14, '1874 m Winni f red Orr of ArthurDuncan James b Nov. 11, 1876 m Mabel Ai tken of LancasterDavid Lorne b Aug. 29, 1879 died youngLouise b Seot. 17, 1881 m 1. Harold Barnet of Renfrew

2. George Parsons of lrelandMargaret b July 27 , 1883 m Otto Widman of Ut ica, N.Y.Eva b August 27 , 1886 m George Sangster of Lancaster

The MacPherson home farm, Lot 15, Concession l , Lancaster Township, occupied in1971 by Lloyd MacRae was cal led'Al lan Grove'by the fami ly and on this farm D.M.bui l t h is f i rst cheese factory - Al lan Grove no. 1. Evident ly a dairy had been inoperation on the farm for some years where D.M. and his stepmother had processedtheir own mi lk and probably a bi t f rom lheir neighbours into butter and cheese, at f i rstfor local sale and later for the Montreal market. D.M. 's venture into the cheesebusiness prospered and in the next seven years he buil l al least f ive more cheesefactor ies in Glengarry - at Glen Wal ler , Glen Gordon, Dalhousie Mi l ls , hal lwaybetween Kirk Hi l l and Dalkei th and at Glendale, south west of Wi l l iamstown. In the nextten years the number of faclories increased by leaps and bounds in Glengarry andStormont and spread into the Huntingdon - New Dundee area of Quebec and eveninto New York State al Malone.

By 1890, D.M. who did business in Quebec as MacPherson and Ferguson control ledfactories at Huntingdon, Clyde's Corners, Laguerre and Dundee and used the milk frommore than three hundred cows. W.J. Cluf f f rom Laguerre was his supervisor for th ispart of the operation and Norman MacRimmon from Lancaster was the SecretaryTreasurer. At th is t ime in Eastern Ontar io 'The Al lan Grove Combinat ion'control ledabout 70 cheese factor ies which consumed the mi lk f rom more than 25,000 cows andyielded 7,500,000 pounds of cheese which at the mai 'ket pr ices of the day was soldfor hal f a mi l l ion dol lars. This of course was for one year only.

To promote, bui ld up and supervise th is vast operat ion D.M. employed some verygood men as f ie ldmen and supervisors. Almost f rom the beginning of the operat ionwhich used only a smal l bookkeeping staf f in Lancaster, D.M. had as his supervisor Dr.John A. Ruddick, a native of Oxford County where the first cheese factory in Ontariohad been started in 1864, eight years before Al len Grove no. 1. Another supervisor wasJ.A. Kinsel la o1 Lancaster who one day would be Dairy Commissioner of Austral ia andNew Zealand.

In the eighteen years, 1872-1890 not only did D.M. bui ld up this mighty cheeseempire and raise his fami ly but he found t ime to serve his community in other ways aswel l . For many years he was Corresponding Edi tor of the Dairy Department of 'The LiveStock Journal 'publ ished in Hamil ton. He helped to found'La Societ6 d ' lnd Lai t iere deOuebec'and in 1886 he was one of Canada's Reoresentat ives at the Indian andColonial Exhibi t ion in London, England which was open for 164 days, had more than5,000,000 vis i tors and total receipts of over $1 ,000,000. He was President of TheEastern Dairymen's Associat ion in '1 887 and President of the Dominion Dairymen'sAssociat ion in 1888. From these oosi t ions and as head of Al lan Grove D.M. 's voicecarried clearly into both the Ontario and Dominion Cabinets and he had become apower in the land as well as a great benefactor to his community. In those days when adol lar was st i l l a dol lar the Al lan Grove mi lk cheques paid of f many a mortgage and bui l tmany a house and barn.

In the ten years af ter 1890 D.M. 's cheese empire increased sl ight ly in s ize and D.M.himsell continued to serve the people of Ontario. He was elected to the provinciallegislature in 1894 as a Patron of Industry, defeating the well known and very pop_ularGeorge MacGill ivary by 384 votes. In 1895 he was elected President of Dominion ColdStorage Ltd.

Along with the increase in s ize of D.M. 's cheese empire went a paral le l increase inef f ic iency. D.M. was responsible for a long l is t of improvements and invent ions in mi lkhandl ing machinery and methods and in the inspect ion of both mi lk and f in ishedproducts. He wrote texts on cheese making, t ravel led widely and lectured extensivelyon mi lk product ion and tr ied very hard to make dairy ing a year around business. ThoughD.M. is remembered for his cheese empire he also operated several large creameriesin the area the product of which was sent to Montreal for the butter t rade. Thesecreameries can reasonably be construed as the ancestors of the butter industry in thearea today.

D.M. patented a cheese box for shipping and stor ing cheese and in partnership wi thJ.T. Schel l engaged in their manufacture in Alexandr ia f rom 1882 on. These cheeseboxes were made ent i re lyof e lm. The sides were cut l ike a veneer f rom around the log,the tops and bottoms were cross-sections of the log and the close fitt ing l id was madeof the same mater ia l . These boxes were l ight , tough and unaffected by the acids of thecheese nor did they af fect the f lavour or the texture of the cheese. Their one defect asmany of the old t imers wi l l remember was that they were nei ther mouse nor rat proof .Parts of the log that couldn't be used for cheese boxes were made into various sorts off urni ture and eventual ly Schel l and MacPherson were operat ing a completewood-working factory which for 30 years was a large employer in the area as wel l as alarge buyer ol logs.

As a point of interest not too far removed from our story, visitors to one ofGlengarry 's histor ic bui ld ings, The Moose Head Inn at South Lancaster wi l l not iceseveral round pi l lars support ing the upper f loor. These are the central por l ions of e lmlogs which had been sl iced down as much as possible for cheese box mater ia l . TheMoose Head Inn was at one t ime owned by D.M. 'S son, Duncan J. and he was in lhecheese box making industry for a t ime in Lancaster.

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By 1900 D.M.'s empire had reached its peak and was beginning to decline. He hadlost his seat in oarliament in 1898 to Donald R. MacDonald, a conservative. His righthand man, Dr. J.A. Ruddick had been enliced to Otlawa to the dairy Commissioner'sBranch of the Dep'l. of Agriculture where he would become Canada's second dairycommissioner when Professor J.W. Robertson, the first incumbent moved on tobecome principal of MacDonald College at Ste. Anne de Bellevue. This loss ofRuddick's services was a hard blow to D.M. His one time faithful colleague was nolonger dedicated to serving one man who had a rather paternalistic outlook on privateenterprise but was now the servanl of the government in Ottawa and dedicated togetting the greatest good for the greatest number. Ruddick's policies and D.M.'sclashed and they became definitely estranged. Details are hard to come by but it wouldseem that the no- longer young D.M. 's organizat ion not only missed the services of theable Ruddick but suffered as well from his policies in Ottawa. The Allan GroveSyndicate was never organized as a company and D.M. 's f inancial interest in thecheese factories and creameries they operated seems to have taken various forms fewof which permitted him to have all the say. So when a movement swept across thecountry for the patrons of a cheese lactory to combine and buy their own factory, manydid. Others were bought outright by individuals who in some cases eventually ownedseveral factor ies though none of them ever got more than a f ract ion as big as D.M. 'sempire at i ts peak.

By 1910 D.M. was a'Cheese King'wi thout a k ingdom but was comfortably wel l -of fand sti l l owned his fine house in Lancaster. Unfortunate investments in the stockmarket ruined him and he even lost h is home, a landmark in South Lancaster unt i l i tburned in 1970.

Unt i l h is f inal i l lness he cont inued to play a part in the l i fe of h is church, St. Andrew'sPresbyterian Church in Lancaster, where he served as elder, Sunday SchoolSuper intendent and teacher. Arnong the more touching and sincere eulogies at the t imeof his death was the one from the church he served so fai thful ly for so many years.

D.M. died in Montreal General Hospi ta l on Feb.4, 191 5 aged 67 years and 3months. He was bur ied in the present St. Andrew's cemetery in South Lancaster. Hischeese kingdom was gone and he was ruined f inancial ly: i t seemed as i f a l i fe t ime'swork had gone for nought.

Todate no biography of the man exists with the exceplion of some basic facts in'Canadian Men and Women of the Time'publ ished by Morgan in 1898. No moderndict ionar ies of b iography l is t h im nor does Canadiana. His papers have disappeared,(though hopefully not for good ) but we were unable to find them in two years ofsearching. The Provincial Archives in Toronto have no mater ia l on him. The DominionArchives have only one let ter that he wrote to Sir Wi l f red Laur ier on July 13, 1896concerning the appointment of a minister of Agr icul ture. They have 30 photographs ofcheese factor ies scattered over Eastern Ont. but no picture of D.M. Not much to havein our publ ic records about such a man. Fur lhermore no plaque or memorial lo hismemory exists except the fami ly tombstone - in {act he has been ol f ic ia l ly forgotten.

Yet th is nat ive son of Glengarry who was born there, ra ised there, worked there,raised his fami ly there and is bur ied there is surely deserving of something to rememberhim by. D.M. does not deserve to l ie unknown in his quiet grave unrharked by anyplaque on nearby no. 2 Highway nor should passerby on ei ther 401 or 2 be lef t unawareas they pass the big house on the hi l l on 15-1 Lancaster that here a man had hisbeginning who developed an industry that put mi l l ions of dol lars into the pockets of h isneighbours - the area farmers and businessmen.

To be sure D.M. was a v is ionary. His s logan of 50 cows on 50 acres was vis ionary.So was his dream of a year round income for every farmer from dairying but what heactually did was real enough. He saw visions and dreamed dreams AND MADE THEMCOME TRUE - for himself and thousands of others.

David Murdoch MacPherson was a genuine son of Glengarry and a great one - oneof the greatest .

Since the above was wri l ten in 1970 my open f i le on D. M. has received lew addi t ionsbut here they are.

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On Sept. 20, 1901 , D.M. shipped two cheeses, each of 1OO0 pounds to the Glasgowexhibition. These were big cheeses by any standards. Each one would have requiredthe milk from 250 good cows of the period produced in one day. However they were notthe biggest cheeses ever produced in Ontario; much larger ones were made at Perthand Ingersoll. For the statistically minded the lollowing figures are given. The bigcheese made at lngersol l was made in 1866 and weighed 7,300 pounds which is 117cu. ft. of cheese and would require a day's production of milk from 1825 cows. The bigcheese that Perth made, was made in 1892 and weighed 22,OOO pounds which is 355cu.f t . and would require a day's product ion of mi lk f rom 5,500 cows. Each of D.M. 'scheeses contained 16 cu. ft. but the ordinary cake of cheese weighed 80 pounds andcontained 1 .3 cu. f t .

On Oct. 29, 1901 D.M. was elected President of the Lancaster Plowing Associationfor one year.

I am now reasonably sure that the bulk of D.M.'s papers have been destroyed and asa consequence the details of his "empire" can never be exactly known. Too bad, asthe f igures, even in ' turn of the century dol lars 'would have been impressive. In 191 9 inthe seven months the cheese factories were open they paid $1 ,500,000. to farmers formi lk. In al l of 1919 Cornwal l 's f ive main industr ies paid out $1 ,070,000 in wages.

MAXVILLE MAXIMS

and the nicknames of the worthies who might have said them.

Things usually take longer than you thought they would.Little Malcolm the snuff.

Things usually cost more than you thought they would.Three Cups of Tea.

A dollar may not be your best friend,But it is high on ti,e /lst.

John the Blackbird.

You never get a perfect situation.John Rory the Fiddler.

lf you want to go faster slower,You have lo start earlier sooner.

Thundering Bill.

16

I REMEMBER, I REMEMBER

Hanna Chisholm, Glen Sandfield

" l remember, I rememberThe house where I was born,The litt le window where the sunCame peeping in at morn."

(Thomas Hood)

I think the most outstanding characteristic of the Scottish people is their hospitality.When people in Glengarry drove horses instead of cars, they had an opportunity todisplay their love for a fellow man. Money was scarce and so the old Scottish thrift andthe tight hold on the purse strings was unnoticed. When a visitor or stranger drove up tothe door, the horses had to be attended first, of course: they were stabled, wateredand fed and even rubbed down and the guest taken into the house and oflered a drink,if there was a wee drop left in the bottle. For ones who refused spirits, the tea pot wasalways warm at the back of the stove. I do not remember when coffee became thefashionable drink but I know we never had it in our young days. lt was green tea whichcame in large tin boxes with pictures of China on all sides. Green tea required moresteeping than the black tea, hence the tea pot stood at the back of the stove alwaysready. A number of good old Scottish people objected to spirits and wine, but never toa cup of tea. In many homes whiskey and brandy were kept for medicinal purposes, aremedy for a running nose, a cough or even an attack ol indigestion. lt was readilyavailable in the hotels in town, and if one had it on the shelf, it was handier lhanhi tching a horse and dr iv ing ten mi les for a doctor. That, of course, one had to do whena woman went inlo labour. The doctor was always ready for such a call and aneighbourly woman down the road came to wash the baby and might stay for a week inthe house. There was no telephone unti l the Glengarry Telephone Company built lhel ine about 1907. At f i rst there were eight or nine homes on the one l ine and each onehad his own number of rings to signal him to answer. Anyone could l isten in on thatconversation. lf my Father ever caught us kids l istening, he would scold, saying it wasjust as sinful to l isten as it was to open and read another's letter. Bul there wererumours that some women did l isten in and were the first to report a fire, an accident,or any call for help. They did not see anything wrong about hearing the news of a l ire ora death or a birth or a new hat. ln most homes the telephone was in the kitchen. Thiswas the hub of act iv i ty on any farm. l t was usual ly the largest room in lhe house and aguest was always welcome lo share food at the long pine table.

Food was plentiful and the helping-hand was not a pretty young lass in a white capand apron, but a big, strong girl from down the road. Mother did not go to the supermarket every day to bring home the bacon. There was no such place as we know ittoday. The hams and bacon were cured in the smoke house. Some of the pork wouldbe salted away in a barrel. Beef was slaughtered and allowed to hang in a cool placefor tweny-one or twenty-three days, then cut up and deposited in the ice house, wherehuge blocks of ice, cut from the river or quarry, were covered with sawdust and kept allSummer. In the k i tchen was an ice chest. Every Saturday the ice was renewed and anew joint brought in. Sunday, it was hot roast beef and as the week passed it becamecold roast beef, stew or hash and soup, in that order. Fr iday, we ale l ish. Beinginlanders the fish was mostly cod, salted. There was always a chicken, a goose or aduck or even a turkey, ready at the drop of a hat to have ils neck rung or its headchopped off . The rooi cellar contained everything the back yard garden produced. Thepotaloes were grown in the f ie ld and cul t ivated by the horse as were the corn, lurnlpsand mangles. In the garden we grew horse radish, root art ichokes, rhubarb, which wasalways gieen, as wei l as the ordinary vegetables l ike carrots, onions and beets. Therewere al l k inds of berr ies, apples, p lums, cherr ies and even aPeat t ree. Even the weedsin the f ie lds were not so olent i fu l . l f Dad saw a oatch of mustard or dais ies in the grainf ie lds, he would send us k ids to pick i t , br ing i t home and burn i t . I do not th ink we had

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as many pests in those days. Our t rees and shrubs were never sprayed, yet we hadabundanl crops. The worst that might happen would be an ear ly f rost in Autumn or alate t rosl in the Spr ing or an ice storm in the Winter. Even the house f l ies were not soprevalent. I remember when there were no screens on our windows but those l i t t lesl id ing ones that could be used when and where needed and most ly {or mosqui tos andwhen they were bothersome, on a Summer night, out-of-doors, we made a smudge andthe smoke kept them away. Once lhe water dr ied up in the swamps and ponds, theywere gone. We did not eat any f rozen food. There was no quick f reeze or electr icrefr igeralor Everylhing was preserved in glass sealers or kept in the cel lar , which bythe way, had no cement f loor and was always cool and moist , but never wet on thisgravel h i l l . Maple syrup was plent i fu l . There was a shack in the sugar bush and UncleAngus slept there at n ight and kept the wood f i re burning under the big i ron pot. In themorning he gathered more sap for the po1 and carr ied home two pai ls of the syrupmade dur ing the night. l f i t was not th ick enough to sui t Mother, she would give i t a boi land lhen bott le i t in the empty whiskey bott les she had saved for just that purpose.These bott les were never washed: the whiskey drops helped perhaps, to preserve thesyrup or even f lavour i t . Nei ther were the t in gal lon cans ever washed; a drop of wateror any dampness would rust them. To this day, I do not th ink any maple syrup tastes asgood as that which was made in the old i ron pot, f lavoured by the bark ashes andwhat-have-you.

In Winter, I remember seeing huge crocks, l ight ly covered, in the cel lar . One mightcontain green cucumbers, p ierced at each end laying in a br ine. Another might containthe home-made mince meat laced well with apple cider and brandy, to keep fresh allWinter, ready for pies or tar ts. St i l l another might be pickles and there might even beone holding eggs bur ied in waterglass. Then, of course, there would be the wel l -sal tedbutter in jars. ldo not th inkwe mi lked many cows in Winter or shipped mi lk, hence thejars ot but ter lor the dry Per iod.

Gett ing back to the k i tchen again, which was the main room in the house. l t wasalways large enough to contain the Stove, washing machine, churn, work bench, tableand chairs or even a rocking chair . Some of these things could be shoved out to theshed when not in use. There was the chimney cupboard where pots and pans werehanging in the upper part and stove wood underneath. I actual ly do not remember whenwe did nol have a furnace but I know that at one t ime, there was a stove in almostevery room and the pipe holes are st i l l there. About 1906 we had a windmil l whichpumped wel l water to a tank, bui l t l ike a wooden barrel , large and high up in the top ofthe barn The water ran to the house through underground pipes by gravi ty, so therewas a tap for dr inking water in the k i tchen. The rain water of f the roof of the barn wascollected in the same way, in a large wooden tank and ran to the hOuse the Same way.The water ran so s lowly, one could go about the business of the day whi le wai t ing for abath upstairs. We then got r id of the rain barrel at the back door which el iminatedcarry ing pai ls of water for washing, into the big boi ler which stood perennial ly on theback ol the stove, l ike the soup pot and the tea pot. At th is t ime we were able to get r idof the big wash tub which was kept in the pantry for the Saturday night bath. Having abalh room upstairs, we also got rid of the lovely old pine chests from the bedrooms thatheld the wash bowl , p i tcher, soap dish and of course, the pot de chambre.

The pantry was very large. We cal led i t the baby's par lour because Mother kept thecr ib and the baby's th ings there. The baby actual ly was bathed on the oven door, whichwas strong enough for a man to stand on. Mother often revived baby chicks on the ovendoor, when they were brought into the house, cold and dying. Sometimes they werelaid on a woolen shawl , in a pan and put into the oven and we would watch entrancedas they came al ive and started to move around. She even revived l i t t le duckl ings andt iny piglets the same way. We burnt wood in the furnace and a long str ing of p ipescrossed some of the rooms and had to be taken down and cleaned f requent ly. Not longago we found parls of an old stove do\,/n by the fence near the wood lot. At one timetwo men l ived in a cabin there, hal f the Winter, cooking their own meals and working inthe bush, prepar ing the f i re wood for the house stoves. When we got the furnace, th iswas no longer necessary, as the furnace held much larger logs. Even af ter we had a

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furnace, I remember there was always a stove in the parlour. lt was rectangular with adoor on the front face, two litt le sliding doors on the side, when opened, gave theappearance of a fireplace and a fancy urn top, all black wrought iron and carved. Allover lhe house, the lovely old pine boards were covered, wall to wall, with rag carpetsmade on a loom by a woman down the road. Straw and newspapers were laid under thecarpet for softness and warmth. In Spring, each room was turned oul forhouse-cleaning. There were no vacuum cleaners and even carpet sweepers camemuch later. Coarse salt and wet newspapers were sprinkled on the carpet beloresweeping with a broom, to keep down the dust. I shall always remember the lovelyfresh smell in the room, when the furniture was put back in place, the windows shiningclean as were the pictures on the wall and the long starched lace curtains hanging fromceil ing to floor. The stove was taken away for the Summer and a round hand-painted tincovered the pipe hole and underneath it there was a shell where Mother kept fourpreciouswedding gifls: two large and two small blue vases with l luted edges and gotdflowers painted on their sides. In the centre of the room, hung the suspension lampover the small round lable, covered with a red damask cloth, whose fringe almoslreached the floor. This table held the albums, one of t in types, one for photographs.Then there was the sterioscopic viewer, a very fascinating thing for us kids, where wesaw the slides of Germany and other foreign countries, at a time when we had neverbeen farther away from home than Alexandria or Martintown.

I remember Albert Chamberlain coming with a gramaphone. lt had a big horn and therecords were round disks, the shape ot which could be l ikened to a large drinking glass,black of course. Ofl the parlour was a small spare bedroom. In Winter the musicteacher occupied it. She gave us all lessons whether we had any talent or not, for thepiano. Then there was an artist who occupied the room one Summer. She taughtpainting to Mother and all the older members of the family and to some of theneighbours. As far as I know, she had only one or two models for her pupils to copyand for years after Madam Cardinal left the county, one could see lhe same sceneshanging in many of the homes

Sunday dinner was always served in the dining room at noon on the rectangular pinetable, made larger, not by extensions or adding exlra leaves, but by two end tables,called half-circles. When Mother entertained friends, the children were banished to thekitchen for our meal but if a gorgeous lemon pie or some such savoury dish passedunder our noses, we often peeked through the key hole wondering if any would be leftfor us.

Bananas, lemons and oranges were nol plentiful as they are loday, so the lemon piewas a great treat as was the orange in the bottom of our stocking, hanging up onChristmas morning and if we thought of something lush, it would not be peaches andpears and bumbleaires, it would be oranges and lemons and bananas.

Mother and Father went many times during the year, to Montreal and always to theOttawa Fair, and would fetch fresh fruit, oysters or fresh fish, a welcome change fromthe sal t cod.

Living inland as we did, we were not apl to have f resh fish otherwise. I remember lheoyster barrel in the shed, with a blanket over it to keep the oysters from f reezing. Therewas always plenty of prunes, f igs, ra is ins and curranls, oatmeal, sugar and f lour. Therewere no preservatives as today. Our own grist went to the mill to be ground and cameback, l ike the sugar in white cotton bags and had the bran and wheat germ sti l l in it, soit was not pure white. These bags were saved, bleached and made intc dish towels or alining for a quilt. Nothing was wasted or thrown away. lf the oatmeal became wormy, itwas boiled and made into a mash for the pigs. All vegetable peelings and left-overswere fed to the pigs. All fats were saved to make soap. The ashes from the woodstoves were kept in a barrel in the wood shed all Winter. Water poured over i l anddripped out a bottom tap as lye. This was known as "setting the leach". The greasewas rendered, strained and put in the big black i ron pot, hung over an outside f i re, in asafe place, in the Spr ing. The lye was added and boi led unt i l i t ie l l ied nicely, lor brownsoft soap. The cleaner lards were cooked with the tye and boiled longer, to makealmost whi te hard soao. This was la id out on a board to harden, lhen cut into cakes.

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In Winter, the only snow plow that went over the roads, was the one the larmer madehimself . I can l iken the contrapt ion to a pair of granny glasses: a heavy board of wood,cut straight across the top and the hal{-c i rc les below, made the two ruts in the road forthe s le igh runners and the horses feet. When dragged along the roads by a team ofhorses, when the snow was deep, very large strong horses were needed and a heavyweight and the dr iver on top of the granny glasses, to hold them down, much as youwould put a weight in the back of your car today, to keep i t f rom sl id ing around. l f asingle horse was hitched to a cutter, the shafts were never in the centre but to the leftside so the horse could travel in the rut. 'vVe had a travois, a low sleigh, no seats, arail ing around three sides and it was entered from the back, the floor covered withstraw and buffalo robes, heated bricks laid on a cold day. When Dochan took us toschool or three miles up the road, to collect our mail at the Post Office, there were asyel no school busses or rural mail delivery. This type of sleigh got it 'S name from theIndian word which was a pair of shafts used for carrying heavy objects. Dochan, gaelicof Duncan, got his name from the man from whom we bought him. He took us toschool every day and we picked up other pupils along the way. He was turned facinghome, the reins tied up and ofl he went home by himself. Sometimes the road wastemporarily in the fields, where the snow was too deep on the road, but Dochan wasknown to leave the road at a convenient place, travel out into the field and wait for ahuge load of hay or logs when he saw them coming and he knew he could not meetsuch a load on his way home, without a driver. Dochan lived to be twenty-eight yearsold and I believe he was done away with when he broke a leg in a fall on the ice,al though we were never to ld th is. He was bur ied on the farm where Gordon MacMil lannow lives, with great ceremony and many tears.

There were bob sleighs and hand sleighs for tobogganing on the big hi l l and a f iveseated sleigh for transporting the family. Then, of course, we had buggies and wagonsand a surrey with a fringe on top. There were no dance halls, as we know such placestoday and our social gatherings and dances were held in our homes. The piano wouldbe drawn near the kitchen door and the music went on and on into the night, forwaltzes, gavots, two-steps, three-steps, lancers and even a reel.

Building a barn was always a good excuse for celebrating and I remember drivinghome when the sun was r is ing in the Eastern sky. Around 1915 or 191 6 the Armourywas bui l t in Alexandr ia and there of f icers ' t ra in ing courses were given and many part iesgiven to entertain the men. Here an orchestra and dance on the armouries f loor,probably wood over concrete, unt i l 2 a.m. was more t i r ing than an al l n ight af fa i r on amore resi l ient f loor. Many people entertained in their homes and a donat ion would beaccepted for the Red Cross. The dances would sometimes be a bit formal. Onereceived a written formal invitation that required a formal answer, party dress and longwhite gloves. Most of the men wore dinner jackets and white gloves. I was in HighSchool and my boy fr iend, at the t ime, was a popular young bank clerk, re jected by thearmy, so I was often invited to these parties. I remember one lovely party when anorchestra and caterers were hired from Montreal for the occasion. The carpeted f loorswere covered with waxed linen for dancing. A day or two after the party, one wasexpected to make a party call and leave one'S personal card on a sllver trayconspicuously placed on the hall table. Tea and cakes would be served and you werenot expected to stay long - just have your tea, leave your card and get out, withoutever having removed your whi te gloves. In Summer there would be hay cart r ides andpicnics and a few days vacation to Lancaster to swim and be lazy. Bar Harkness had ahuge sail boat and he would take us out on the St. Lawrence river every day. Two orthree men in Alexandria owned cars and it was always a jolly occasion to be invited togo for a drive, even up and down the main Slreet, when the roads in the country weretoo muddy. l f one went any distance, to v is i t , i t was necessary to take the train. Wesometimes went to Cornwall, a distance of about forty miles, before the big highwayswere bui l l . We were dr iven by horse, to our l i t t le rai lway stat ion, three mi les away,boarded a C.N.R. f re ight t ra in that had one coach for passengers: th is took us to GlenRobertson where we waited to board the Montreal bound l ra in, we al i t at CoteauJunct ion and waited for the west-bound train that took us to Cornwal l , arr iv ing aboutthree hours al ter leavino home.

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I remember once going from Cornwall on a small steamer, to Prescott, thereboarding the Rapid's Queen and shooting the rapids to Montreal. A great thri l l . We hadrelatives and friends l iving in Summerslown where we visited in Summer and enjoyedthe swimming in the St. Lawrence river and rowing across to Stanley lsland at night todance. lf a large ship was moving in the channel, it was very thri l l ing to watch how ouroarsman avoided being run down, distance being hard to reckon at night, on lhe water.

In the early days in Glengarry the cattle were red and white animals, with largehorns, mostly. I actually do not remember seeing them, so I think it musl have beenabout the turn of the century and my Father and Francis Trottier bought the black andwhites from the Raymond farm at Vaudreuil, and now mostly all the dairy cattle areHolsteins. We had a large herd and there were no tractors but we had twelve orfourteen large Belgian Percherons to do the farm work, cultivating, seeding, haying andharvest ing. These horseswerevery gent le and we could go up to them in the f ie ld andpet them and sometimes even rode on their backs, sitt ing in a huge western saddle thatFather had brought back f rom one of his trips to Oregon or Arizona.

We had hammocks made of barrel staves, wired together and slung between twotrees or on the verandah. We had a play house under a large mounlain ash tree. Wehad a rope swing hung from a pole laid across two huge posts in the ground and aboutten or twelve feet high. We did not have insulation in the attic as we have today and thelow ceil ing house was apt to be very warm upstairs in Summer, so we often slept oncots on the verandah. One coll ie dog always slept beside us on the floor, as if to guardus. In the morning he went from bed to bed and nudged each one at exactly the samehour. These farm dogs that had no training but to bring home the cattle, never wereallowed in the house and were well fed and occasionally petted on the head, were verywise and faithful animals. My Father used to say a farmer never petted any animal buthis dog. Another Coll ie was apt to follow the men and horses working in the backmeadows. On Saturday morning at exactly eleven o'clock he would leave the field andcome home just in time to meet the.butcher's team and wagon at our back door, whenhe brought our weekly joint and likely as not, a bone for Coll ie. That same dogwas veryf rightened of thunder storms, learned to open our back door and dash ih the house andlie under our parents' bed unti l the storm was over. Another smaller dog, a white Spitz,was a real pet and spent more time in the house and he had the same instinctiveknowledge of t ime. At exactly 4 p.m. every school day, he went upstairs and sat on oneof the beds facing Wesl and watched for us coming from school. When he spotted uscoming down the road, he came downstairs and demanded out, trotted down lhe laneand greeted us very enthusiastically. I sti l l have, in this house, the bed spread showingthe pulled threads worn by his toe nails. Another pet slept on a matlress under thekitchen table, a privilege he was granted because he came to uS as a puppy, the runt ofa l itter of pure bred Coll ies. That dog was not allowed in the l iving room, bul at exacllynine o 'c lock he came to the l iv ing room door and stared at us wagging his ta i l .Sometimes lpretended not to not ice his plea to be let out . lwould keep on reading'holding my book up in front of my face. Only then would Lassie come to me and knockthe book out of my hand. Garry, a big lrish Setter, was another pet that slept under thekitchen table and would demand out at exactly the same time every night.

When we got our f irst radio, a big clumsy one with batteries on lhe floor, Garry paidno attention to the music or voices but in 1934 we got Hydro eleclric powei and ourf i rst te levis ion. That intr igued him immensely. l f there was a picture ol a dog on thescreen, even barking, we tr ied to f ind out i f he could see i t , but a lways he tr ied to get

behind the set looking forsomething. At one t ime Mother was i l l in bed for a few days.Garry never ate his rieals and seldom left his bed for three days. On a cold Novembermorning, l found him ly ing on.the verandah, under Mother 's window and real ized hewas not i l l but lonesome.l tooX him in the front door, so he had to pass her rockingchair. He went up and sniffed a bit, then went into her bedroom and sniffed around herchair . Mother was surpr ised to see him and cal led his name. In one bound he was onher bed, walking over her body and licking her lace and from that hour he knew shehad not gone aiay and he ate his meals and acted quite normally, not even going toher bedroom door, which he had never been allowed to do before'

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Ithink we got our first car early in the 1920's. lt had no self-starter and had to becranked. lt had no glass in the side windows, but there were leather curtains that couldbe snapped up in case ol bad weather. lt did have a windshield but no wipers and mostwomen passengers wore a shawl over their heads and one had to get out and clean thewindshield when it got blurred lrom mud, rain or even snow. Those days, lhe carswere not built so low to the ground, and we went over all sorts of roads, even the oldcorduroy, which was nothing ntore than big cedar poles laid in a soft, somelimesmarshy surface.

lhave written these lines at random, as I recalled the years in which I was growingup, young and impressionable and a happy member of a large family, on a farm. Mybrothers were older and did not appreciate having seven litt le girls under their feet whilethey did their chores, so we were banished from the barn and hence learned moreabout dogs than any other animals. I have no proof that all these words are true to fact,but they are as I remember them.

TRACf NG YOUR ANCESTORS lN CANADA @mtinuadhompsezl

Church Records - Parlsh Reglsters

For these numerous and useful sources to be of any use to the genealogist, thename ol the denomination and the parish must be known. Inquirers then may write tothe clergyman or priest of the parlicular parish in which they are interested, but theArchives is unable to direct the researcher to local churches or their records. Ingeneral, the researcher may expect to find such details as dates of birth, baptism,marriage, and burial, as well as names of parents and godparents in these records. lfthe place of burial is known, the inscriptions on headstones in the thousands ofcemeteries across the country offer a further source ol information for the genealogist.

The Public Archives has some original parish registers and copies of others in itscustody. These records are by no means comprehensive for any one region. ACheck-list of Parish Beglsters has been prepared listing the churches for which we haverecords and the dates which they cover. Most of the parish registers in our custody areavai lable on microf i lm.

tardage Bondg

Marriage bonds usually offer l i tt le genealogical informalion beyond the names of thebetrothed, their olace of residence, and the date of the bond. The Public Archives hasthese records indexed.

LAND RECORDS

Since crown lands became a provincial responsibil i tyat funfederation, the recordsrelating to land tit les are mostly in the custody of the various provincial governmenls.The Federal Government, however, retained possession of the original petit ions forcrown grants in Lower and Upper Canada, and these are now in the custody of thePublic Archives of Canada.

Lend Petltlons

Early settlers, in order to obtain crown land, were required to submit petit ions to theGovernor stating their claims to free grants. Many of them were Loyalists, who hadborne arms or otherwise served the Brit ish cause during the American Revolution, orwere descendants of Loyalists. Land petit ions are often a helplul genealogical source,since they frequently give information on the petit ioner's lamily, mil itary service,

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antecedents and country of origin, and sometimes give striking accounts of experiencesduring the Revolution. Rarely, if ever, however, do land petit ions specify region orlocal i ty whence an immigranl came. In general , land pet i t ions do not indicate thelocation of a grant, but notations on them by the Surveyor General and others indicatethe act ion taken.

The land petit ions in the custody of the Public Archives relale to Ouebec or LowerCanada (1764-1842) and to Upper Canada and Canada (1791-1867). The Manuscr iptDivision has a nominal card index to these land petit ions, which is not as yet availableon microf i lm.

Land Grants

Land grants are less helpful to the genealogist than petit ions, but the grants do giveexact descriptions of properties, acreage, and the date of the letters patent confirmingtit le. In most provinces the central offices of the provincial government are responsibleonly for the init ial recording of crown grants. Land registration is the responsibil i ty ofthe local registry offices in the districts in which subsequent transaclions occur. ltshould be noted that in order to consult a registry office an inquirer musl know theadministrat ive distr ict in which a person l ived in order to direct h is inquiry to the correctof f ice.

Ontario. Copies of the letters patent for the original crown grants are fi led in theDepartment of the Provincial Secretary and Citizenship, Toronto. Departmentalreferences to crown grants are recorded in the Patents Section, Legal Services Branch,Department of Lands and Forests, Toronto. Correspondence relating to grants prior to1857 is in the custodyof the Provincial Archives. The registry unit for later lransactionsis the county or district in Northern Ontario, but in a few counties there is more thanone registration division. There are in all 67 land registration offices.

Counly Atlasos

County Atlases, where they exist, are a very helpful source lor the genealogist,provided he knows at least the county, and preferably the township, in which anindividual is believed to have settled. A picturesque series of these atlases coveringsome parts of Canada was published in the 1870's and 1880's. Many of Canada'slarger l ibraries hold some of the Atlases, but the largest collection is held by the MapDivision of the Public Archives. lt includes atlases covering most of the settled part otOntar io. These volumes usual ly include lhe names of landholders or tenants on theirlots, sketches of various communities and biographical notes on leading cit izens.

In addition, a number of maps of counties showing the names of landholders ortenants were prepared in lhe late 1850's and ear ly 1860's cover ing parts ol Ontar io.These are also avai lable in the Publ ic Archives Map Divis ion.

MILITARY RECORDSDetailed personnel records for the Canadian milit ia were not kept unti l. this cenlury.

In 1873 the records accumulated in the of f ice of the Commander of lhe Br i t ish Forcesin Canada were transferred to the Canadian Government and deposited in the PublicArchives. These records now constitute the major portion of Record Group 8, adescription of which is to be found in the printed inventory of this group. These recordsrelate to uni ts of Br i t ish regulars, Canadian mi l i t ia uni ts and civ i l ians. Included arenominal rolls of some Loyali it units and of some Canadian units raised between 1838and 1843. Records of the Department ol Mi l i t ia and Defence and of adjutants general inthe pre-Confederation period are also to be found in the Public Archives, and aredescribed in the inventory to Record Group 9. These records include paylists for milit iauni ts serving dur ing the War of 1812 and from 1855 to 191 4, and payl ists ol theCanadian Expedi t ionary Force dur ing the First World War. This record group alsoincludes medal registeis for awards made during the Fenian campaigns, the Red Riverand North West Rebell ions and the Soulh Af rican or Boer War.

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Paylists and muster rolls are arranged by regimental unit, which must be known toconduct a search; information given consists of details of mil itary service, citations,pay, etc. Most of these records are not available on microfi lp.

The medal registers, which are available on microfi lm, 1866-1 902, record name ofunit, rank, specific service and name of commanding officer. These registers havebeen indexed.

The records of the Department of Veterans' Affairs in the Public Archives containSouth African War Service Records and applications for land grants made by SouthAfrican veterans under the Volunteer Bounty Act 1908. Both of these have beenindexed. The war service records contain enlistment papers which give considerableinformation of a personal nature including age, occupation, next of kin and even aphysical description. Usually some record of a man's service in South Africa is alsoincluded in his f i le. The appl icat ions for land give the veteran's address at the t ime ofhis application and provide information on his service in South Africa.

Also worthy of note are the Fenian Raids Bounty Claims, arranged in numbered f i les,towhich there is a microf i lm card index; the records are avai lable in manuscr ipt only.Information recorded goes l itt le beyond names, units, periods of service, and addressat the time the claim was submitted.

LOYALIST SOURCES

The Loyalist sources are very popular and f requently used for genealogical research,and so merit special attention. While many of the sources already referred to, such asparish registers and land records, relate to United Empire Loyalists, others describedhereunder deal exclusively with them.

Perhaps we should first mention the two Loyalist l ists in our custody. A l ist ofLoyalists in Upper Canada, compiled in the Office of the Commissioner of CrownLands, and presently kept in the Crown Lands Department in Toronto, records names,contemporary residence and descendants; we have a transcript of this l ist. A similarl ist also in our holdings was retained in the Executive Council Office. Comparable l istswere not compiled in other colonies.

The Audi t Off ice Ser ies (A.O. 12 and A.O. 13) is perhaps the most rewarding sourcelor the genealogist. The first of these contains evidence in support of Loyalist claims forlosses sustained during the American Revolution together with the proceedings of theinvestigating commission, and the second records the evidence of claimants only. ltshould be emphasized that by no means all of the Loyalists who suffered losses as aresult of adherence to the Crown submitted claims, often because of the considerableexpense entailed. These records give location of former residence in the variousAmerican colonies, s ize of fami l ies, of ten wi th dependants ' names, detai ls of mi l i taryservice and residence at the time of the claim. The researcher often gains a fairknowledge or insight into the size ol a claimant's estate from the evidence given. Theserecords are on microf i lm. The or ig inals are in the Publ ic Record Off ice, London,England. The Ser ies is completely indexed.

A further source, though one general ly l is t ing heads of fami l ies wi th the number ofdependants, are the nominal l ists and returns of Loyalists in the Haldimand Papers, theor ig inals of which are in the Br i t ish Museum in London. We have transcr ipt copies ofthese lists, completely indexed. These records are also available on microfi lm.

The nominal ro l ls of Loyal ists in the "C" Ser ies, a l ready ment ioned in the sect ion onMilitary Records, are indexed. Muster rolls and paylists may also be found in the WarOff ice 28 Ser ies, avai lable on microf i lm, lhe or ig inals of which are in the Publ ic RecordOlf ice, in London.

We hope that those engaged in the rewarding and fascinating search into theirancestry wi l l f ind th is art ic le a useful introduct ion and guide in their research.

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printing (1976) imprimerie