Lights Along the Valley and Huntly

I GRemember
(l~@i[x)lr~ j\(b@~@i lr[x)~
Wj\(b(b~17 .
j\~(0)
[X)[W ~lr(b 17
by
CAROLINE CUMMING
1970
Printed by
.
D. W. Friesen & Sons Ltd.
Altona, Manitobb ..
,.)4._
. , '>8' 4(1"
I Remember
These reminiscences of Huntly District and vicinity are dedicated to the me~ory of the pioneers who devoted their energy
and talent to establish a way of life - "better than they knew."
I am indebted to my brother John, to James Williamson Jr.
and to Lome Williamson for much information herein contained.
Where'er Endeavor bares her arm
And grapples with the Things To B.e,
A desk or counter, forge or farm,
On veld or prairie, land or sea,
And men press onward undismayed,
The Empire Builder plies his trade.
from: Robert Stead's
The Empire Builders.
ii
iii
CONTENT:-
Ligh ts Along the Valley
Preface:
"The homestead days on the Canadian prairies were bathed
in a romantic atmosphere which all the hard work, privation,
loneliness and frustration could never quite dispel." This is a
quotation from W. E.'s Causerie, in the Free Press, summarizing
Fred Wilkes's: They Rose From the Dust.
As I look back to pioneering in Manitoba I feel the romance
of its beginning, but am disposed to think, that in not too long
a time, the romantic atmosphere gave place to the realities of the
hardships the pioneers faced. One wonders at the courage, fortitude, patience and hope that ever dominated the hearts of these
first settlers. One can but admire the persistent effort that eventually built better than they knew for the generations to follow.
Ninety years ago on the first of April my father reached
the Marringhurst Plains at the east end of Rock Lake in southern
Manitoba. The anemones purpled the plain. He told me many
years later that he, a much-travelled man, had never seen anything
so beautiful.
I look back, sadly, to the devoted toilers of that far day,
for their having been deprived of the many amenities of life which
we enjoy. I think of the people who made up our community,
and wonder how some brought up in very different circumstances
endured to the end.
They did, contributing what they had to make a better place
for those who came after. I would that our first comers knew
how humbly grateful we are for their fortitude, adaptability and
resourcefulness to meet conditions imposed by the virgin prairies.
C. Cumming
April 1, 1969.
A. LIGHTS ALONG THE V ALLEY
iv
(a) Preface
(b) Introduction
(c) The Metis.
3
(d) Arrival of the White Settlers
6
B. HUNTLY DISTRICT
20
C. REMINISCENCES
61
( a) The Seasons
61
(b) The First Concert at Huntly School.
67
(c) Neigbourly Calls
68
(d) By The Way
I. The Lost Child
2. An Unforgettable Mishap
3. A Poet's Comer .
4. The Prairie Chicken Dance .
5. Berry Picking
6. These Were The Days.
70
70
70
..
(e) A Bit More of Family History .
1. The Way of The Pioneer
2. An Old Quebec Family.
iv
iv
71
72
73
73
74
74
77
D. NEE LIN .
78
E. CONCLUSION
80
v
The Pembina Valley Lorne Lake
Lights Along the Valley
Part 1.
There is not, in Manitoba, a more beautiful spot than the
valley which bends like an arm at the elbow from Pelican Lake
to Rock Lake. At the bend, from south to east, are Lakes Lorne
and Louise. The small Pembina River flows into the valley from
the west draining the two small bodies of water into Rock Lake,
and on and away into Red River just across the boundary from
Emerson.
The steep banks, wooded with oak, poplar, birch and many
shrubs, slope gently on the north side as they near RockLake.
The valley bottom used to be covered with stands of large elms
and ash, interspersed with hay meadow, stretching away from the
willow-fringed stream.
We call it the Pembina Valley. It is really the work of a
mighty Assiniboine of pre-glacial period that cut its course across
a plain. Pelican Lake is a link with the past. A trench filled with
water remained when the great flow was dammed near Wawanesa,
and the Assiniboine turned aside to make a new bed farther north.
This was a place for wild life; a favorite resort for waterfowl,
a true hunting and fishing ground.
Who were the first people here? Who can tell from whence
they came and when? The mounds scattered along the north and
I
east banks indicate the habitation of men ages beyond our knowledge. The Indians, in turn, have left the remains of camp-sites
of burial grounds and relics scattered everywhere to show that
they lived here for many generations - even to the coming of the
white man.
Lights have shone along the valley for untold centuries. The
great lights of heaven, sun, moon and stars, witnessed many
changes, but not one more dramatic than the arrival of the white
settlers 1879 which resembled a flight of locusts alighting. In
~hort order the candle and the lamp glimmering from lowly dwellmgs took the place of the camp-fire. Now the steady glow of
electricity lights up homestead and town.
II
The Metis Settlement:
Of the first people here little is known. A number of Metis
came after the Red River Rebellion to occupy scrip land set aside
by the government, That they were resident for some years was
evinced by scrub"fences built to keep their animals from straying,
the well-worn paths along the slopes, the rutted, winding roads
used by Red River catts, and the numbers of log houses and remains
of others along the valley and on top of the steep bank.
Joe and Roger Dacotah lived just west of Rock Lake. 'They
were men of considerable means with herds of horses and cattle
- their chief asset. Joe had seven grown-up daughters and ruled
his household like a king. His deep, silent laughter shook his
heavy body, affording much amusement to his visitors.
Mr. Henry had a strongly built house of hewn logs on the
top of the valley overlooking Lome Lake, and Mr. Martin one up
on the east bank at the south end of Pelican Lake. There were
more houses and the remains of others between these at the foot
of the hills indicating quite a large settlement.
Matilda, a very stout, dark-complexioned Metis was wellknown in the white settlement. She lived in the vicinity of Rock
Lake and came periodically, seated on the floor of a big Red
River cart drawn by a small jog-trotting Indian pony, to sell fine,
fresh pike to those less skilled in the art of fishing.
The children looked forward with interest to her coming. One
of these, many years later recalled how deeply disappointed he
was that she should have chosen to visit his home when he was
at school. No one seemed to know her last name, to whom she
was related, or where she went on leaving. No doubt she joined
those who went to St. John, N.D.
The Gosselins came from Emerson in 1882. With Mrs. Gosselin, a widowed sister of Joe Dacotah, came her family, sons and
daughters and their families. She took up land just at the bend
of the Valley. What a view from that vantage point! Lake Louise
to the right - a stretch of valley widened out where the Badger
River flowing from the south west joins the Pembina, winding,
tree-fringed through lush meadows. These people were familiar
with this region having many times come on buffalo hunts, for
buffalo abounded here.
This little old lady as described by her granddaughter, Mrs.
John McKay, had attended St. Boniface Convent. She was intelligent, capable and mistress in her own house. She spoke a mixture
2
3
of French and Cree and, much to the amazement of white children,
smoked a clay pipe.
The family consisted of Paul, tall and dignified, his wife and
son, living at the foot of the hill from his mother's house; as did
another son Michael, the hunter, who broke his back by a fall
from his pony while chasing buffalo over a steep slope south of
the old Glendenning road. However, he recovered and lived to a
good old age with his wife and son, Willie. Many a visit he
made to our house, and we children waited patiently his departure
in order to gather up the kinniklnic he spilled on the floor while
filling his pipe. Eustache lived near the west end of Rock Lake,
where he built a trading post, keeping the staples required by
hunters and the newly arrived white settlers - sugar, tea, flour,
tobacco. He had several children of whom Mrs. Ramsay Montroy,
still living on the old place, is one. Stenislas or Stanley Gosselin
came from St. John, N.D. much later and lived here many years.
Of whose daughters there was Nancy, stout and jolly, with her
two sons Joe Frederick, always known as Cowboy, and Harry
Ricker, and a daughter, Lena, who married John McKay. All
remained in the district, becoming well-established home-makers.
Later Nancy married Mr. Fred Burke. Two children, Paul and Mary
were born to them, and like Harry Ricker still live in the Neelin
district. Charlotte, a second daughter, had a son Johnnie Bell and
a daughter, Eva. The former, quite a violinist, was popular with
the young people both white and Metis. Angelique, the oldest
daughter, a spinster, lived to be III years.
Louis Montroy, his pretty young bride, and his brother
Xav.ier, came about 1888. Louis, who remained to bring up a
famtly of boys, was one of the most highly respected citizens of
the district. When he died it was everybody's loss.
These boys were sent to school, first to Roseberry and later to
Neelin and took part in all the organized sports. Ramsay, Pete
and Emil enlisted ~n World War I, serving with distinction. The
former, reported the best sniper in the Canadian army, died at
Neelin 1956. Emil was killed at Vimy Ridge. Pete returned, went
to the States as a ball player and was accidentally drowned. Zeb,
the youngest, lived in the Neelin district, died 1968. George, another
s<?n of this family, a veteran of Hong Kong, World War II, is a
hIghly esteemed bus driver on the Riverton-Winnipeg route.
,
Other Metis came for short periods only to move on to more
congenial locations.
furnishings. The Metis cultivated little land, devoting their time
to hunting and caring for their stock.
These restless people, except the Gosselins and Montroys,
moved away with the coming of the white peogle, most of the~
to St. John, N.D. The land disp?s~d of, .the old homes aban.d~med,
the story of a simple people satIsfied WIth the mere ne~SSlties of
Hfe can never be told - a romantic story of a romaI?-tic people
has been lost. Their lights disappeared. What these lights? The
candle and the campfire had faded into the past.
Their houses were strongly built of oak logs available on the
slopes and uplands. They were chinked and plastered with clay; the
roof thatched and sodded. A few stools and benches a table a
bed, all home made, and a few cooking utensils co~prised the
4
5
III
White Settlers Arrive
It is to be regretted that no one, while the pioneers lived,
thought enough about history that was in the making to record
happenings that should be of interest to communities now wellestablished. All too late some one thought to pick up threads, here
and there, of pioneer. life and to try to unravel and weave them
into a pattern that will convey a true picture of one of the most
enterprising undertakings in the history of settlement. Individuals
without aid from any source set out from the British Isles and
from Eastern Canada to establish themselves and families on a
stretch of remote prairie land. Hope and faith in the future were
their chief assets.
Were they justified? One has but to estimate their achievement - homes, schools, churches - to know that they did not
fail to accomplish what they set out to do. Could it have been
done better I
It was my mother's beautiful, bright eyes that could spot a
dozen lights across the valley from the vantage point of our west
window overlooking the valley. In that day there were no fringes
of trees on the hill tops to obstruct one's view as prairie fires
kept the trees from growing. On frosty winter nights there they
were - lights twinkling in the distance. A friendly twin;Iding that
dispelled the lonely feeling of isolation.
First Comers
On the west bank, a mile or so up from the south end of
Pelican Lake lived Mr. and Mrs. Knight, English immigrants and
family, Harry, Allen and Maude. They were early comers, arriving
in 1879. Their home was a log house in a grove of large oaks
which made summer shade and winter shelter. For a number of
years they kept Glendenning Post Office. The mail was driven
from Killarney and included that destined for Moropano in the
Huntly District.
It is told of Mr. Knight, that on a winter evening he would
predict a change in the weather by announcing: "The howls are
owling tonight."
When well up in years these good people went to Saskatchewan
to homestead a second time.
A short distance south of Knights lived Joe Clements and his
pleasant, short, stout wife. A few years on the praj.rie sufficed.
6
They returned to their former home in eastern Canada to live
out their final years.
Mr. Clements, a gruff-spoken individual, did not always reply
to his gentle wife's appeals in like manner. Mrs. Clements was
about to depart on a little visit to a neighbour's, so she said, "I
am going, Joe." No answer, "I am going, Joe," still no response.
"I am going, Joe." At last came the ungracious consent; "Go then;
what's keeping you?"
.
Joe's brother, William, lived south along the road - an
eligible bachelor who should have been the desire of every marriageable young woman; that is if she wanted a model husband. He
remained a bachelor, was a prosperous farmer, and in due time
retired to Killarney.
A little to the right, where the road led down into the valley,
was a small log cabin. I can see it still, as when a child I went
with the mail carrier to Glendenning Post Office, huddled close to
the hillside, sheltered from the winds. This was the home of Mr.
A. Henderson and his son, Allen. They did not associate with the
neighbours and little was known about them; but the father, ambitious for his son, sent him to school - even to Huntly out of
their district - a tall, shy, young fellow, teased unmercifully by
his classmates. Their light shone down the valley to mark their
presence for a short time only. They went as they came, almost
unnoticed.
At the foot of the hill where Glendenning Road took a sharp
turn south, to branch off to meet the Killarney Road, and then
west, as if to get round a low-built house snuggled close to the
steep slope behind it, was the home of John Moir. He, his wife
and three children came from Hensel, Ontario, in 1882. They
went first to Virden with the Langs, Mrs. Moir's family; but both
they and the Langs settled here in the valley.
Mr. Moir, of Irish descent, had a typical Irish sense of humour
and goodness of heart; always the cheerful, good neighbour, a
promoter of every worthwhile community enterprise. He was a
favorite contributor to the programmes at local concerts. His lively
songs were encored uproariously, but deeper chords were touched
when he sang Bairnies Cuddle Doon, or in duet with his wife:
Beautiful, beautiful twilight
Crow ning the day at its close
Shedding a hallowed enchantment
Over the my and rose
Whispering, softly sighing
The wind of the west dies away,
Beautiful, beautiful twilight
Gilding the land and the sea -
7
When the Langs moved to Winnipeg in 1893, the Moirs moved
into the old frame Armstrong house they had vacated. Later Mr.
Moir built a fine frame home north of Glendenning Road where
a clear cold spring flowed from the hill. Near the end of his life
his greatest desire was to have a drink of the water from this
spring.
They moved to Winnipeg in 1903, they and their eight children, leaving the district the poorer for their going. Their light
must have cheered many a belated wayfarer on the much-travelled
road which led by their door. They exemplified, "Let me live by
the side of a road, and be a friend to man."
Up the narrow valley of the winding Pembina west of Moirs
on the hilltop stood a high frame house. There, a fine spring of
water gushes out of the bank to flow down to the river - ample
supply for household and stock. There lived Mr. Boucher and his
wife, French from Montreal. One ponders why these people came.
The writer remembers the tall, handsome man, and the pretty
delicate woman visiting in her home; and she remembers too the
conversation in French - dear to every Canadian of French extraction.
Their stay was short. At the birth of a baby son, Mrs. Boucher
died; the husband, grief-stricken, returned East, leaving the baby
in Mrs. Ellison's care.
With true Irish superstition, Mrs. Ellison, to the end of her
life maintained that the house was haunted. Lights, strange lights,
winter and summer, could be seen in the uninhabited house. Even
at a distance one shuddered to think of the ghost that kept vigil
near the unmarked grave.
.
Long after, Mrs. Ellison told her story of the haunted house
so graphically that one listener, a young student in Killarney High
School, would not slip outside into the next house not more than
two yards away until the dear old soul held the lamp high to show
the way.
So the Boucher light came and went. The father returned to
take his son away, and their very name was forgotten.
As long as I can remember, and that is a long time now, the
old Glendenning Road was a good road. It ran westward along
the middle of section thirty -three; down the east bank of the
valley it followed a ravine nearly to the bottom where it took a
sharp tum north and angled down to the little bridge built across
the outlet which drains Pelican Lake into the Pembina. From here
due west, it led across the valley.
8
Half way along this straight stretch of road was a large frame
house. It stood seventy years, at least, until it was remodelled
into a modem bungalow. It had been built as a store and trading
post as early as 1880 by a Mr. Armstrong who managed this
business enterprise (it is said) for J. H. Ashdown of Winnipeg, a
promoter of distribution even in the earliest settlements. It would
be worthwhile to know its history in detail.
However, the store was in operation when settlers arrived.
I remember my mother relating this little incident. She and Betsy
Maxwell had been to Glendenning for groceries. Andrew Easton,
on his pony, was riding behind their cart. Driving up a steep
pitch they carelessly let one of their baskets tumble out, frightening
Andrew's pony. The pony shied, threw the rider off and went
galloping away. The rider's indignation spilled over in a flow of
profanity that added to the amusement of the irrepressible Betsy.
Pills seemed a staple commodity at this store. Some of the
stock was left on the shelves after the business had closed. Two
persons have related entering, finding bottles of the sugar-coated
remedies which they swallowed without reserve and without harmful results.
Alice and Annabel Easton were sent to Moirs for the mail.
It was a long walk for two small girls in late fall. However,
passing the former store, they decided to go in to investigate. On
entering they took off their new mittens, put them on an old
table, searched round, found a bottle of pills, ate them and went
upstairs. Looking out of the window, they saw an Indian making
his way toward the house, so they hid in a closet. Soon the
Indian came in, but shortly went away. Two small frightened
girls came downstairs to find their mittens gone. Alice, recalling
the happening years after, was sure her mother never learned
where the newly-knit mitts went.
It was here the Langs came to live in the 1880's, and it
became known as the Langs' house.
There was a large family of grown boys and a daughter Annie,
a teacher, as well as the married members in establishments of
their own, Mrs. John Moir being one. These young men were bent
on professions, teaching in the nearby schools to pay their way
through college. Allan and David graduated in Theology, Warren
and Ben in Medicine. They lived to be old men labouring in their
chosen professions from coast to coast. Community spirited and
talented, they contributed much to the growth of the districts of
Huntly and Glendenning.
In 1892 the family moved to Winnipeg and the Moirs occupied
the Lang house.
9
Half way between the Langs and the Moirs, on the south
side of the road was Glendenning School, built 1887. Later, to
make it more central for the school population it was moved west
to the top of the hill.
There were floods in those days. Sudden, spring thaws brought
water in the Pembina down in torrents, and spread it over the
low banks of the river covering the valley from bank to bank.
Mr. Lang, during one unusual devasting flood, determined to send
for Mr. Moir. Mrs. Lang realizing the futility of such a proposal,
observed, "What good will John do? He can't stop it!"
High up on the east bank and at the south end of Pelican
Lake was another Metis house. It was the home of Mr. Martin, a
thin, wiry little man. He was often engaged by the white settlers
as a guide over the trackless prairies when they needed to go
to the Land Titles Office at Wakopa or Deloraine.
Donald Cumming, Father's brother, and their nephew Jock
wanted to file on homesteads, so Mr. Martin was engaged to
take them to Wakopa, a distance of about thirty-five miles. They
set out on a bleak November day, the two land-seekers in a gig,
and their guide on a small Indian pony.
.
Not a sign of a trail westward across the stretch of tawny
grass. Often the riders in the gig got down, well-clad as they were,
to run a pace to warm themselves. Not so their guide. He sat
his pony, clad in a thin shirt, a light-weight coat, trousers, and
shod, stockingless, in a pair of home-made moccasins. When asked
if he were cold, always the cheery "No, not moch." At one place
he dismounted, scratched round in the tall grass and announced
"Camped here last fall." There were the ashes, the remains of ~
campfire; but what his landmark was could not be conjectured.
They eventually reached their destination where Mr.
La Riviere kept the Land Titles Office, regardless of the fact he
could neither read nor write. The two prospective settlers filed on
their homesteads and returned to Mr. Martin's, where they were
pressed to stay for a meal then in preparation. While waiting
they were shown the winter store of food in a lean-to at the back
of the house. From floor to ceiling were packed, in their feathers,
ducks, geese, prairie chickens, partridges, row upon row, meat in
abundance for the months ahead.
Mr. Martin, like the rest of the Metis, sold his land to a
British immigrant, a Mr. J. T. H. McEwan. Mr. James Williamson
Jr. furnished this information about Mr. J. T. H. McEwan. "He
was a very early settler here, as he was established when my
father came in 1886.
10
"It was said, and I have reason to believe that it was true,
that his father was a director of the bank of Scotland, which
went broke. This man evidently inherited his father's money, and
as some legal action was taken against the directors of the bank,
the Old Country Courts tried to follow the son to Canada in order
to collect some of the father's assets to cover his liabilities. It
was generally agreed that J. T. H. established that location on
the lake as a sort of hide-out to which he could slip away when
the law was chasing him. I remember he was the only man in the
area who had money; and I do know my father borrowed money
from him for as little as 2% per month."
Mr. McEwan kept his own counsel and remained the subject
of conjecture and speculation to the end of the chapter. He was
a tall handsome man with considerable resources, so it seemed.
Why'settle here in a remote corner of the district? Perhaps, the
superb view was the attraction. It was rumoured he had been
discharged from the army for some misdemeanor, that he had
misappropriated funds in a bank, and had left his native land to
evade the long arm of the law. No one was ever the wiser. Years
later two uniforms which bore evidence to his profession were
found in a box buried under the house.
He lived in a somewhat elevated style, sported a fine democrat
and a spirited team of horses. He kept a pack of hounds, although
the wooded slopes of the valley and treed hill-top were not conducive to hunting with a pack.
His wife must have found life monotonous as they had little
to do with their near neighbours. They found more companionship
with the English people across the valley, the Stewarts, Heaths and
others. On Mrs. McEwan's rare visits to her neighbours she was
beautifully dressed and conducted herself with dignity and reserve.
He loaned money at a twenty-five percent interest rate. A
loan of a hundred dollars netted the borrower seventy-five, and
the twenty-five was retained as interest. He was exceedingly niggardly in his dealings with others and consequently unpopular.
He bought meat from Mr. J. Moir, later taking back the bones in
expectation of a refund, which he did not get.
I remember well, as a small child, four women walking past
our home on the way to McEwans. Two turned back, two went
on. Years later Mrs. Humphrey Wilson told me she was one of
the four and that they were taking their mother to visit Mrs.
McEwan. Who in this generation would consider a walk of seven
or eight miles to go visiting!
Mr. McEwan retired to Winnipeg at the turn of the century,
and in 1904 he terminated his business here, disposing of his land
to Peter Dufty.
11
The Eastons, whose small log house was built about half a
mile east from the top of the valley, were Scottish folks. They
arrived 1882, lived two years with Mr. Stark, an old friend, before
moving in 1885 to their own homestead S.W. 34-3-15.
The family consisted of a son, Andrew, who lived his life
in this community, and three daughters. They were an asset - supporters of everything that made..for progress in a new district. Mr.
Easton was secretary-treasurer of Huntly School District for years;
Mr. Easton, the ever reliable help in time of trouble. A light
from their west window on a winter's night streamed out afar. Both
light and house are gone but memory lives on.
A quarter of a mile south and west, right on the bank of the
valley, were we. This was Father's second move. He had come from
Rock Lake to be near the Maxwells and now, on New Year's
Day, 1888, he moved into Mr. Henry's well-built log dwelling. A
cellar had been dug, a low upstairs finished to serve as sleeping
quarters and the family settled down for a long stay.
The view from this strategic hill was fine. Pelican Lake to the
north, Lorne Lake at the foot of the hill and Louise at the bend
of the valley to the south. The tree~lined Pembina wound through
meadowland draining Lorne and Lou!se-onandaway - a perfect
picture! If we did not learn much else, we did learn to love nature.
the milewide valIey. From that window we saw, glimmering in
the distance, the lights of those settled west of us, Cluffs, Bea~oms,
Watsons, people from Ontario who came shortly before the ratlway
reached Killarney in 1885.
And one must not forget the twinkle from the dwelling of Dr.
Ramsay and his brother, and of old Mr. McElhearn. Again one
wonders why characters so diverse came to a stretch of bleak
prairie, surroundings so different from what they had been accustomed to. But there they were!
I remember Dr. Ramsay, a small dapper Englishman in a
tweed suit sitting by our west door on a summer day, aw~iting t~e
meal my mother was preparing. Perhaps he had stopped m on hIS
way home after a professional visit, for he did minister to the
sick as a side line from his homesteading duties.
It was said that he was a ship's doctor in the British Navy,
but his drinking propensities terminated his career there. Like others
he had sought solace in the excitement of pioneering in the Canadian west.
When the railway was built Killarney became a thriving town
of hotels stores and all that makes a distributing centre. The poor
doctor's powers of abstaining were nil. Once again his old habit
prevailed. A member of one of the neighbouring families said that
they had a little rhyme which went like this:
Dr. Ramsay went to town
To get three bottles of whiskey
One for Jim, and one for me
And one for Dr. Ramsey.
Mother recalled the visit she and Mrs. McLeod, father's niece,
made to take Gracie McLeod for medical examination.
They arrived in their gig without appointment. The Doctor
was away for a load of wood; the brother was home preparing
dinner; a foot up on the front of the old-fashioned cook stove,
slicing potatoes into a pan, he entertained the callers to. the best
of his ability. Soon the woodsman returned, turned professlOnal and
ably diagnosed the case, T.B. of the hip, prescribed the necessary
treatment - a long stay in Winnipeg General Hospital.
The Doctor's homesteading was of short duration. He went his
way leaving but a memory in the minds of a few old-timers.
In the old house was a door to the west, which was soon
replaced by a window that shed its light for many years across
Cluffs' light shone out for many a winter night. Mrs. Cluff
was a Mrs. Wiggs if ever there was one. Many a heart she cheered,
many a bachelor she baked for, mended for, cared f?r. Life was
made easier by such neighbours. When each of the famtly had gone
his or her way, the old couple went to pioneer a second time in
12
13
Mr. Henry's House 1880
Saskatchewan. A few more years of hardship and back to Winnipeg
to end their days with their daughter Alice.
The Watson lights could be clearly seen from our window.
There were brothers, Henry and John. Farther west lived the latter's
two sons, Fred and Bob.
And what of the lights hidden by a fringe of trees to the
south west. They were there: the Thomases the Leeces, the Turners, who remainerl for many years in their well-established homes.
The Turners, still as I write 1969, Annie and Arthur are living on
the old homestead.
At the foot of the valley west near where the old Killarney
road wound up the steep slope lived Watt Nichol and his wife,
Maggie, Mrs. Ellison's daughter. One can't remember Watt ever
working over much for a living. He had a blacksmith shop, doing
the repairs for his neighbours, and in the fall making ready his
big threshing outfit to do their threshing. Their location gave
access to three districts, a good place to meet for a dance where
could mingle young and old from far and near. Watt played the
violin well - well for the old-time quadrilles and waltzes - and
tirelessly.
There were many dances, small crowds, large crowds, all kinds
of crowds; there was always at the wind-up of threshing the
threshers' dance to which we did not always get going. They were
always the same lively affairs; Watt played and often called the
quadrilles at the same time. Mrs. Nichol prepared lunch (between
dances) sufficient for a sumptuous repast at midnight. No one
dreamed of going home before morning, the host and hostess
finishing on a high note of satisfaction for their share in the night's
fun.
"What's your idea of heaven?" was asked a young woman. "a
good waltzing partner," was the answer. At Nichol's, one had just
that opportunity. Gus Anderson, a S.wede, who took up land abandoned by an earlier settler, was the perfect partner.
So many nights of entertainment planned by these folks in
their simple, hospitable way deserves for them special mention.
They have long passed and are forgotten in the community where
they lived. One bright light less in the passage of time.
About 1900 the McLennans came from Glengarry, Ontario,
the County famous as the birthplace of Ralph Connor. They occupied a farm south of ours, which like ours, was partlYQn the hill
top but mostly in the valley. It was an ideal stock farm where
a fine herd of shorthorns became one of the best known in
Manitoba. The house, a good frame structure, and the large red
barn gave an air of prosperity to the place.
14
They retired to Holmfield in 1908, having sold their farm to
Messrs. George and William Beaulac. Mr. McLennan died in 1913
but Mrs. McLennan lived to a good old age. She passed away on
January 16, 1936, in her eighty-sixth year.
Rounding the elbow at Lake Louise one found a few of the
Metis families well established - the Gosselins, the Montroys and
others. They were a pleasant people, retiring, keeping pretty well to
themselves. They supplied the labour required at all seasons for
seeding, haying, harvesting. Often, too, it was go for Nancy,
Charlotte or Mrs. Paul when the washing piled up, the cleaning
needed doing and the potatoes picked.
On the slope of the east bank was the home of R. B. Watson,
a stone mason. He was an early comer and one of the first to
engage in the milling business in partnership, first with Mr. Cowie
and later with John Montague.
In timehe built a picturesque small house of stone and stucco
with a look-out tower commanding a fine view of a wide stretch
of valley. The basement, opening out on a pleasant terrace round
which was a low stone wall, was occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Pritchard, Mrs. Watson's parents.
Mr. Watson who claimed descent from a Pomeranian Count,
although by birth an Englishman, was something .of an. aris~ocrat
in manner and appearance. He wore a goatee, whIch WIth hIS affability, helped to bear out the possibility of noble bi:th. His wife,
a charming, small chubby woman, had brought WIth her from
England numbers of things to adorn her home, making it a p~easant
one, and betokening former life very different from that of pI?neer~
ing in Canada. I remember especially a fine set of Charl~s DIckens
works , which at her death were willed to the Graham gIrlS.
Mr. Watson operated a lime kiln, supplying the surrounding
districts with a commodity very necessary in the construction of
better homes. The limestone necessary for this operation was very
plentiful along the hills.
In L910 Mrs. Watson died of cancer, incurable in that day; a
few years later Mr. Watson died in Middle Church, Winnipeg.
Round the bend from the Watsons close to the foot of the
hills was the home of Joseph Neelin who first homesteaded the
quarter section later owned by George Cooper.
Mr. Joseph Neelin, a builder, came with his brother from
Ottawa to Winnipeg where he worked at his trade. Later the
brothers took up land, the former farming, the brother operat.ing
a store across the road. Stock in the store consisted of the Immediate needs of the settlers, and these supplies were brought from
Emerson until the c.P.R. was built to Manitou in 1882, the haul
15
from the latter being much shorter. The storekeeper tiring of his
business moved to Port Arthur while Joe Neelin purchased John
Montague's land in the valley.
c
0;
~
l
.
John Montague, an early comer, operated a lumber mill on the
fast-flowing creek from a never-failing spring up the hill. The
plentiful stands of oak and poplar on the slopes, andel!J!antl3.sh
in- the valley supplied tne required timber.
. -----.
~
.c
§
.E,
..J
During the time the Montagues lived here an epidemic of
diphtheria caused the death of their two children. Many years later
Mrs. Montague returned to try to locate the little burial plot just
east of the house. All was so changed she could not find the place,
and went away saddened that the tiny graves must go unmarked.
c
~
..;
~
'!!
Mr. Neelin, in time, by patient energy and skill put up a commodious house of stone and stucco (still standing 1969) and acquired more land, both of which he needed to maintain his family
of six sons and three daughters. I remember well the L-shaped
house, the big kitchen, dining-room and parlor well-furnished and
much used.
.
0;
.~
o
E
~
Mr. Neelin was a quiet, reserved man whose home was open
to all in true pioneer hospitality. He farmed successfully for many
years, and when the C.N.R. was built in 1904 he insisted that to
perpetuate the name, the town site be called Neelin.
A P'CniC
Graham, Mrs.
Mrs. Stevens,
Members of
photographer.
at James Grahams about 1895. Back Row: Mr. Stevens, J.
F. Stevens, Mr. Hillyard. Middle Row: (Adults) R. B. Watson,
Sr., Mrs. R. B. Watson, J. Neelin, Mrs. Graham. Children:
the families of J. Graham, J. Neelin and F. Stevens, the
16
17
f h~T Nee~n, a sister of Mrs. Watson's, was the capable manager
IS ~rge ousehold. Her busy hands were always employed
I n~t .WIth mea.ls, ;-Vith a basket of mending that seemed never t~
bh~Imshed. ThI~ dId not I?erturb her cheerful, happy disposition a
W
Her long lIfe was bnghtened by having all the family except
BertIt. settled
nearby.
1
That light, too, like the others is replaced by electricity light.
th
Ing e way of a new generation.
f J Eastward from the Neelins, on the north slope was the home
o ames Graham. The house he occupied was a great frame
partly-stuccoed structure built it is said by R B W t
f M'
C .
h
'11
' .
,
"
a son or r
oWIe; .t e mI owner in partnership with John Montague I~
was dIVIded fr~m front to back by a long hall; two large ro~ms
I'ere on e~ch sId.e and a stairway from the front door led up to a
ow upstaIrs whIch was. never finished. A big window on each
g~ble and a small one In the gothic in the hall afforded a fine
VIew of the valley - east, west and south. A pleasant place in
summer b~t how bleak and cold in winter! In 1949 the house was
e.. A IhInt ?f the once deep cellar remained to mark the site
grnth
o
IS 0 d resIdence, one of the first here.
. Now, I must go back to the mill for a short space A lumber
mIll operate~ by steam and a flour mill had been built 'on a small
stream floWIng down a ra:vine west of the house. The old mill
shtones land part ?f ~n en?In~ lay for years near by to testify to
t e ear y enterpnse In thIS dIstrict.
Mr. Graham, a burly Scotsman, came with William Stark about
1882. The two families and the Eastons were close friends in the
old land.
Mr. Graham never took kindly to farming, and indeed, his
wasn't too good a farm, on a gravelly hilly slope, mostly. He
occupied himself in other ways. For years he was secretary treasurer
of Roseberry School, and was the first postmaster in the village of
Neelin, when Moropano was transferred from John Cumming's in
1905. He operated a small grocery store and butcher shop in conjunction with the post office. Later he dispnsed of his farm and
built a house in the village.
One spring he spent most of his time sitting on a stonepile working out the design for a sheaf-loader. He had his invention
patented but it was never brought on the market.
He contributed much to the development of the district, was
the first to grow everbearing strawberries and even attempted a
tobacco crop. He was on call to entertain at every concert far and
near, at weddings and other gatherings. His rendering of Long
Barny, I'll Meet Ye On The Lee Rig, Oor Kale Yard and many
other Scottish ballads brought down the house.
He was a staunch liberal in politics; Scotch or not, he had a
keen sense of humour. He used to laugh over this little incident:
Mr. Bryson strongly condemned the Canadian people for electing a
French Canadian, Sir Wilfred Laurier, as prime minister. Donald
Cumming, learning of this cirticism, stamped in indignation up and
down the short sidewalk in front of Bolton and Way's store said, "What's old Johnnie Bryson anyway? Better have a good
Frenchman than a bad Scotchman any day."
Mrs. Graham came in the early 80's, with her parents and a
brother, from London. She was a woman of many parts and in
her quiet, reserved way exerted an influence for good - more than
can be measured. How often she was called out to minister to the
sick and how cheerfully she gave her services. Her pleasure in nature
surely compensated for whatever privations pioneer life may have
brought. Her musical ability and the possession of the fine Stewart
piano made possible the retention of her skill. Their family of four
daughters bound them to Canada with strong ties.
.
Their light no longer gleams from the hillside. They rest with
others in the Neelin Cemetery where the tree frogs trill in the dying
light of the August days.
Roseberry School, 1892.
18
Near the west end of Rock Lake lived Tom Murray - a mere
name at this distance of time. His farm was a rendezvous for the
haymakers in summer. The farmers who had no hay on their own
19
farms put up quantities, on shares, on this stretch of good grass
land.
Victor Waitte occupied this quarter for a few years; and later
it was bought by Will Cooper who developed this and bordering
sections into a fine farm home, now occupied by his son, Nelson.
On January 20th, 1959, Will and Bertha Cooper celebrated
their golden wedding anniversary, on which date Harry and Mrs.
Ricker also celebrated theirs. The community, in recognition of the
contribution they had made during their long residence in the
district, presented each couple with an electric lamp.
Mary's old log house, built on her homstead about 1895. AUweather roads take the place of prairie trails that angled across
small farms; electrification has brought labour-saving devices and
cold storage; and a third school, modern in every detail, stands
across the road from the site where the first frame structure was
built in 1887.
Huntly District
Introduction
The First Family 1880 - The Maxwells
Early Settlers
The Maxwell Home a Community Centre
The First Wedding
Huntly District Organized - A School Built
The First Teachers and Pupils
Kate McPhail, William Coutts
Later Teachers
The Lang Brothers, Mr. Pratt, A. E. Buttress, A. Moir
School Life
Noted Pioneers
Wm. Stark, John Cumming Sr., Mrs. J. Cumming, The Eastons,
Charles McKay, Mrs. D. Maxwell, McLennan Family, The
SOIT"ervilles, L. Williamson, Wm. Daniels, J. T. McEwan
Agricul turists
Cumming Brothers - John, William, Malcolm, Walter Mabon, William Maxwell
Newcomers 1890-1900
Arrivals 1900-1910
The Pioneer Church
List of Settlers and Later Arrivals
Location of Homesteads
Neelin - Building of the C.N.R.
Huntly
Times change. As I write this account of Huntly District,
1969, I am aware that it is not the Huntly which had
its beginning in 1880. The pioneer homes are gone, even Aunt
20
Mr. and Mrs. David Maxwell
Too, the pioneers are all gone. Very few descendants of the
first families remain to occupy the old farmsteads and perpetuate
their names. Much of the land is occupied by newcomers; larger
farms have resulted in fewer families, so that the school population has dwindled to a minimum.
I go back to the beginning to relate something of what I
remember and what has been told me by the few remaining, older
than I, who were brought as small children to the district.
21
The first family to arrive was David and Mary Maxwell with
nine of their te? chi.ldren, ranging from ages one to twenty-one,
four boys and frve girls. A married daughter had been left in the
east. She came later, after her husband's death, bringing two
small daughters and an infant son to add to the household.
The Maxwells came from Ormstown Quebec a community
thirty-five miles south of Montreal. Th~y travelled by way of
Chicago, where t~ey picked up my mother, then on to Emerson,
the end of the railway. From here they continued the journey by
horse and wagon to the end of Rock Lake, where was my father's
homestead. ~e ha~ lived on it the winter before, there being a
g~od log cabm whICh accommodated the new arrivals. Why they
did not take up land on the Marringhurst Plains I cannot say;
but early fall found them located on the S.E. quarter of section
12, township 4, range 15.
Their house was a large two-storey log building ready for
them when they arrived. Who built it, I do not know; but even
then ther~ ,,:ere a nun:ber of sawmills along the Pembina Valley
wh:re bUlldmg matenal, poplar shingles and oak siding, were
avaJlable. The weather was beautiful into late October and Uncle
David turned the first prairie sod - rich black soil the best for
wheat growing.
"
From ~he~ on settlers came in numbers, not only to this
unnamed dlstnct, but to homesteads in all directions. One recalls
Nellie McClung's account of Milford, near Wawanesa, because
that was where most of the supplies were procured in the first
few years.
Among the first settlers were Jim and Harry Williamson, two
young bachelors from near Ottawa; William Stark and the Easton
family from Se.lkirk, Scotland; the Bremner brothers, Tom, Jim
an~ Bob, Scottish folk, and the Daniels family Mrs. Daniels
a sister of the Bremners. All arrived about 1880-1882. Charles
Cumming, father's cousin, Malcolm and Jock Cumming, father's
nephews, were among the first here. In 1882 their brother Will
an~ in 1888 their mother, sister and youngest brother, Donald,
arnved to swell the Cumming population.
In 1883 my parents moved from Rock Lake and located on
N.E. 1-4-15, across the road from the Maxwells. Here my sister
Flora was born, November 17, the first white child born in the
district. In 1888, New Year's Day, they moved, having sold the farm
to Charles McKay, also of Ormstown, to N.E. 28-3-15 bought from
Mr. I:Ienry, a Metis. The two-roomed log house on the brow of
the hill overlooked Lake Lorne and a fine stretch of the Pembina
Valley. The Eastons, who had lived with Mr. Stark for two
22
years, located on S.W. 34-3-15 in 1885; they were our neighbours
for many years.
In 1886 Let Williamson with his wife and family of four
arrived settling two miles north S.E. 9-4-15; 1889 brought Walter
and Andrew Mabon, young bachelors, from Ormstown, Tommy
Somerville and family of four small children, and Duncan Cumming. Mr. J. T. H. McEwan was already west of the Williamsons,
at the south end of Pelican Lake, S.W. 8-4-15.
A number of land-seekers homesteaded but abandoned their
claims so that little is known of them. Mr. Cook - Cook's Hill
the la~dmark, The Shellcrosses and George and Cephas Martin
remained but a short time.
The majority settled down, acquired preemptions to increase
their acreage, and set about in earnest to establish permanent
homes. All they had was youth, hope and determination. P.erhaps
these are the greatest assets in life, for money was scarce, distance
great, roads poor; but make the best of it they did.
However there was considerable shifting about, first-comers
leaving, new~omers moving in. In 1895 Charles Cumming. moved
family and effects by sleigh to Gilbert Plains. It was dunng the
spring thaw, the going difficult 'the front bobs on snow the back
ones in water,' so it was said. Mr. Coutts, Huntly's second teacher,
homesteaded and remained long enough to prove his claim, then
left to take a course in law. Harry Williamson, disillusioned with
the west, returned to his former home in the East, and Mr. McEwan
by this time was in Winnipeg.
Nor must I forget the McLennans. Rory McLennan, wife
and family came in 1890 from Glengarry. He located S.E. 27-3-15
on the Pembina Valley.
Because it is the early pattern I wish to record, I have included
a map to complete the picture as well as a list of the first families
brought up on the prairies.
Social Life
The Maxwell home was a community centre. No wonder!
There were so many young people in the family; William, ~alcolm
and David all played the violin and brought the neighbours
together for many an evening's dancing. Then there were the
marriageable young women to attract the lonely bachelors. It was
not long until Myzie married Jack Robertson of Minto, and Mary
married John Gordon (many years her senior) of the Craiga1ea
Community, later Belmont.
23
The first wedding in the district was that of James Bremner
and Euphemia Bruce, niece of Mrs. Thomas Bremner. Everyone
was invited; the wedding gifts of the most practical kind - eggs,
butter, chickens and whatnot. The night's entertainment was
dancing interspersed by songs rendered by that indispensable guest,
James Graham. One selection pointedly insinuated the disparity
of the ages of bride and groom, "Auld Robin Gray Was A Guid
Man Tae Me."
Picnics and concerts brought the community together on many
occasions.
Huntly School
During that year, through the determination of all concerned,
the district was organized, named by Mrs. Easton and the school
built, my father drawing the lumber from the mill at Rock Lake,
a distance of eighteen miles over bad roads. It was duly painted
and furnished with home-made desks. Comfortable enough they
were too.
The first pupils were Jean, Maggie and Charles Maxwell;
Andrew, Annabel and Alice Easton; Mackie and May Cumming;
Lizzie, Jim and Bob Williamson; and Douglas Cumming. A goodly
start. The first teacher was Kate McPhail, an aunt of Hon. Ivan
Schultz, one time Minister of Education in the Bracken government.
She died many years ago, but was remembered by an ex-pupil
(1965) for her gentle kindliness.
It was not until 1887 that a school district was organized.
In the meantime my father engaged Annie Thring, whose family
lived north on the Belmont road, to instruct the three younger
Maxwells and my eldest sister and brother, May and Mackie. She
occupi~d the low, attic-like upstairs of our one-roomed log house,
and eVIdently gave her pupils a good grounding in the elementary
subjects. She, on one occasion, cautioned them on no account to
touch frosted iron. Mackie took the first opportunity to go out and
put his tongue on the head of the hammer. The release of the
tongue left the skin on the iron and a small boy with a very sore
mouth.
Huntly School Pupils 1892. Reading from left to right: Back Row: L.
Williamson, B. Lang, M. Maxwell, A. Easton,. W. Lang.
Second. Row:
May Cumming, Alice Easton, Annabel Easton. Third Ro~: L. Cumming, M.
Cumming, D. Cumming, E. Coutts (teacher) '. C. Cumming, .B. Easton, F.
Cumming. Fourth Row: C. Cumming, Robt. Williamson, G: MOlr, C .. Maxwell,
M. Cumming, J. Williamson, Jack Williamson, W. Cumming, G. Williamson.
N.B. Not all the pupils are here no Somervilles nor McLennons.
The second teacher to take charge of this remote school was
William Coutts (1888), a brother of Mrs. Farquharson, wife of
the Rev. Farquharson of Pilot Mound. The Farquharsons, Mr. W.
Coutts, D. Stewart, first medical superintendent of Ninette Sanatorium, and the Bradshaws all migrated from County Kent,
Ontario, to Morden. Why these people came to such out-of-theway places, what motive prompted them must remain unrecorded.
Huntly School, 1887
24
25
Mr. Coutts, a tall handsome young man, with poise and
dignity, had no disciplinary pro'blems, although the winter enrollment increased by the attendance of numbers of older students,
almost grown up. He lived in a shackon his homestead, walked
two miles to school and devoted his ability and energy to stimulating the minds of his pupils and to the betterment of life in a
pioneer community.
What a teacher! I do not know of a better one. He instructed
his pupils in the proverbial three R's and imparted to them by
example, morals, principles and practices that go to make worthy
standards in life. He could be severe but he was always just and
impartial.
Once he had a party at his shack for the whole school. Alice
(Easton) Cumming remembered something about it. She remembered his serving out potatoes to the hungry diners, and at the
end of the meal giving every single pupil a gift. And these were
no mean trifles. I have in my possession a gift booklet, given to
my sister, May, "The Old Oaken Bucket," beautifully illustrated.
I remember the mechanical toy Mackie had - a blacksmith that
hammered an anvil when Andrew Easton brought over the little
steam engine that operated it. To Lizzie Williamson he gave a
microscope that, according to her, "makes a fly look like an elephant." I remember the magic lantem that was given into the
safe-keeping of May and Mackie, with the understanding that a
show be put on when the other pupils came to visit. One slide,
I remember, was a big bull frog among the rushes by a pond.
Wonderful! That lantern and the slides lay safely for many years
on top of our high red cupboard. Treats, too, were in order. My
sister, Flora, arrived home from school with something in a closed
fist; Mr. Coutts had brought them figs.
When Eva and Jimmie McKay died of diphtheria and were
buried in the deep woodlands, the pupils the following spring
decked their graves with flowers. Lizzie Cumming, careless of a
robin's nest, broke an egg. The mother robin's disconsolate call,
Lizzie's loud wails and the teacher's stem rebuke taught us to
respect our feathered friends. The ground work in manners and
morals was laid down in no uncertain terms.
Yes, there was considerable national strife. Mackie called the
Irish "the dirty Irish"; Lizzie Williamson retorted with "the lousy
Scotch"; Mr. Coutts heard the latter remark and promptly reprimanded the speaker for her unbecoming language.
There was a good library at this time which must have come
through the effort of the teacher. The little cupboard under the
chimney was full from top to bottom. From Log Cabin to White-
26
house, Livingstone in Africa, Poetry for Children, and many more,
the pupils became readers of books.
Through Mr. Coutts's management a cheese factory was built
S.W. 2-4-15. The farmers pledged delivery of milk each morning,
and at the end of the season received so many cheeses as their
share of the profits; good cheese it was. Mr. Brown of Baldur
was the first cheese-maker. Later Tommy Somerville took over and
finally Cephas Martin operated the factory until it closed.
The school children riding as far as .the factory with the
milk delivery were treated to curds, much to their enjoyment.
Mr. Coutts, who went to Ann Arbor, Michigan, to study law,
was succeeded by his brothers, Ed and Jim, who stayed but a short
time.
Teachers who followed the Couttses were the Langs who lived
in the valley in the old Armstrong store. David Lang was a great
favorite, as was Warren. Their kindly interest in school and community inspired their pupils to greater effort. I have still my first
New Year's card given me by Warren Lang 1894, also one given
my sister, May. David went into the Ministry, preaching many
years in Saint John, N.B., and later in St. John's, Newfoundland.
He spoke over radio March, 1949, on the Confederation programme
when Newfoundland became the tenth province of Canada. Warren
graduated in medicine and practised many years in Vancouver,
B.C.
The successor to the Langs was Mr. Platt, rather of the
Squeers type, except that the older boys got a great deal of enjoyment out of his attempts to keep them under control. He would
say to the juniors, "Draw a map, just draw it any way." Some
were very good map drawers and were not satisfied with just
being kept busy. He stayed but a short time and was succeeded
by Mr. Buttress.
Mr. Buttress, an Englishman, had many excellent qualifications
that were, not at the time, appreciated. It takes age to evaluate
correctly true values. He showed a preference for England that
tended to rouse the antagonism of the Scotch and Irish descendants,
especially during a history lesson. He applied freely the rod cut
from the willow clump, and woe betide the laggard who failed
to have his homework done. For misbehaviour one stood up on
the seat, sometimes for long enough to be tired. "But behave."
What fun at the intermissions and
football and baseball. Often the balls
rags, which did not detract from the
overtime at recess - even almost to
27
noon hours, playing cricket,
were stuffed with grass or
fun. Sometimes we played
closing time - when the
teacher's side was a little behind in the score. Then on Fridays
always "The Journey" - a trip into many lands, the pupils, the
characters on the trip. One was treasurer and kept the finanfial
statement, showing profits and losses. These lessons in geography
taught more of the world than any other method could have done,
and kept the attendance up. Believe it or not, no pupil on that
day missed a good adventure story.
'
Every Christmas came the Christmas Concert which gave
each pupil one or more parts on the programme. The preparations
were an occasion in the school year - practices, new dresses for
the girls, suits for the boys, primping of hair, and constant excitement in the air. Then the tree, usually a poplar trimmed with
batting and garlands of coloured paper, stood ready; and across the
room, bright streamers in every direction gave colour to the scene
of festivity.
The evening actually arrived; the small school was crowded
to capacity. People from far and near came. The programme
included not only performances by pupils but that of adult talent
wherever procurable. One remembers Fred Stevens, as good a
comedian as one would find anywhere in the music halls, delighting the audience with "Where Did You Get That Hat?" "Oh, Liza,
Dear Liza" and many more songs. His encores were many and
always responded to. One remembers Jim Graham and the Scottish
songs that warmed the hearts of his countrymen, and always the
request for "Long Barney." The Waitt brothers, Bruce, Louis and
Vic, brought down the house with their humorous dialogues. Fred
Smith and Jack Ovingdon added to the evening's enjoyment with
more sentimental selections. And Mrs. King McGill climaxed it
with her splendid elocution.
At these concerts a small admission was charged, and the
proceeds bought prizes for the pupils. Everyone from the oldest
to the youngest got a book - lovely books they were - which
surely nurtured the art and enjoyment of reading.
Mr. Buttress taught for five years when he was succeeded by
Alex Moir, John Moir's brother, who at this time was farming
the land lately occupied by the Langs and was anticipating a
medical career. He, too, gave inspiration and direction to his pupils
emphasizing the importance of perseverance in attaining one's goal
in life.
He achieved his ambition, graduated in medicine, practiced a
short time in Manitoba before going East to establish a more
permanent practice, where he served with distinction.
side of the road just across from the original location. Pioneering
,
was over.
The first school was suitably situated as to distances from
homes and for the pleasure of children who loved outdoors. It was
surrounded by stretchesQf qalqmd poplar groves. Beautiful willows
fringed the nearby ponds, and fruit trees abounded - wild plum,
hawthorn, nanny berry and saskatoon. I think of the profusion of
blossoms in spring and the joy of berry-picking later on.
A large clear pond on the west side provided opportunity for
wading and poling a big, heavy raft from side to side in summer;
and in winter it was the skating rink for those fortunate enough
to have skates, a slide (hard on shoes) for those with no skates,
and best of all a football field. Yes, we played football, cold or
mild. If the ball's bladder burst, the jacket was stuffed with hay
or straw; the game went on. For the more junior and discreet, a
hand-made sled or a good wide board enabled them to use the
slope of the pond as a first class toboggan slide. We surely had a
variety of sport.
I remember the rose bushes at the west windows covered with
their fragrant, pink flowers nodding in on a rainy, summer day.
We forgot our work, dreamed, and drank in the beauty of it all.
Many of the pupils had a walk of three miles to school. We
took advantage of this and had pleasure in gathering the beautiful
wild flowers that grew everywhere - anemones, ladyslippers, lilies,
columbine, honeY~llckle, and numerous others; in looking for
. strawberries; and in watching for and hearing the bobolinks that
swung on the same slender willow year after year; but whose nest
we never found. In fall we took new roads home, this by way of
change, and delighted, on misty fall mornings, in disturbing the
funnel spider by touching the bottom of the slender tunnel to
makeilie little spinner run up onto the web spread out all dewy
on the grass.
We endured the cold of winter and were thankful for the
occasional ride on very severe days; thankful to reach the school
on a frosty morning; thankful to reach home at night after a
trudge through drifting snow, and to get warm by the big boxstoves stoked full of good, wood fuel.
I remember Grace McLeod, Aunt mary's granddaughter,
walking the mile, summer and winter, on her crutches, always
the cheerful one in spite of the tubercular leg. Mr. Stark knit
her a pair of mitts, one large, one small but surely warm.
Time and space prohibit the record of individual achievement
From this time on the district pursued the more modern
trend of the times. In 1907 a new school was built on the north
many contributed worthily in every walk of life and in many places
28
29
of these pioneer pupils; some are still living, some are gone. So
across Canada. They were independent men and women, energetic,
law~abiding, asking nothing but the reward of their own honest
effort.
We are so prone to contrast the past with the present, that
we fail to assess the changes in material development that have
created a new world which has had its impact on a new generation; and as we ponder, we know our new generation will measure
up when the call comes.
HALF-YEARLY REGISTER
Of Attendance
1893 (SECOND HALF)
of the
Dedicated teachers! We have had them.
SCHOOL DISTRICT OF HUNTLY
Copied from the First Register of Huntly School.
NUMBER 477 IN THE PROVINCE OF MANITOBA
A. Pupils who attended at opening - 1887
Miss Kate McPhail, Teacher; Maggie Maxwell, 10; May Cumming, 8; Charles Maxwell, 7; Malcolm Cumming, 6; Andrew
Easton, 10; Alice Easton, 6; Annie Easton, 8; Georgina Daniels,
12; James Daniels, 14; Lizzie Williamson, 7; James Williamson, 6; David Maxwell, 15; Jean Maxwell, 12.
B. Pupils who attended 1888-1895
William Coutts - Teacher (until Dec. 1892)
John McKay, Allie McKay, Lillie McKay, Robert Williamson,
Douglas Cumming, James McKay, William Somerville, Mamie
McLeod, John Williamson, Willie Cumming, May Somerville,
6; Etta Brown, 8; Minnie Cumming,S; Charlie Cumming, 16
(1891); Beatrice Easton, 6; Christina McLennan, 16; Norman Bell, 17; Willie Goosala (Gosselin), Harry Ricker, Peter
Irvine, Walter Irvine, George Williamson, Lizzie Cumming,
John Bell, Tommy Somerville, Jack Williamson, Lena Jeniveau,
14; William Cumming, 32; Henry Green, 22; Grace McLeod, 7;
Jennet Cumming,S; Sarah Jennet McLennan, 7; Maggie A.
Cumming,S; Allan Henderson, 15; Carrie Cumming, 6; Ellen
Mathers, 19; Flora Cumming, 8; Mary McLennan, 11; James
Mathers, 6, June (1888); David Lang, 14, June (1888); George
Moir, 8, June (1888); Louis Schultz, 7; Ben Lang, Warren
Lang, May Cumming, 14; Malcolm Cumming, 12.
N.B. Some pupils non-resident - Langs, Moirs & others.
The older pupils, winter attendants, Names misspelled.
in July..................
20 Days
in August ............
9 Days
in September ........
Days
in October ..........
22 Days
in November .. ....
21 Days
in December ........
15 Days
Total..................
87 Days
NOTE - In no case should part of a day be
counted as a full day in the above.
a. During the above term authorized teaching days
(not counted above) were lost as follows:
(1) Days spent by the teacher in attendance at
Teachers' Convention - none.
(2) Days lost through sickness of the teacher
- none.
I certify above statment to be correct.
The Metis who attended for a short time: Willie Gosselin,
Johnnie Bell, Lena Genevive, Eva Laval, Harry Ricker. (These pupils had about four miles to walk.)
Wm. Easton
Secretary-Treasurer
When Glendenning School was built, John Cumming's farm
was included in this district to make its organization possible. The
Cumming children never attended here were non-residents in
Huntly.
30
David Lang
Teacher
31
Huntly Pioneers
WILLIAM STARK
William Stark, a well-educated and well-informed Scot, was
an early comer to the country. Although not a resident of the
Huntly District, he seemed to have an equal interest in every
community around him. Each solicited his help in organizing
municipalities and school districts; each depended upon him to
arrange for church ~rvices and, indeed, to institute at the earliest
time possible every worthwhile enterprise.
In his homeland he began his career as a banker, but due
to an acute short-sightedness he gave that up, migrating to Canada
about 1878. Here he engaged with the c.P.R. in Montreal as a
train dispatcher, so it is said. In 1882, like many more, he became
interested in the prairie west and homesteaded on the N.E. quarter
of section 6-4-14.
Now he turned his attention to immigration, and was instrumental in bringing to the district, James Graham, William
Easton and family, former friends; the Waitts and the Hamiltons,
young bachelors who married and settled down to become worthy
builders of Empire.
Mr. Stark was the first secretary treasurer of Argyle Municipality. He was called upon to look after the registration of births
and deaths, to make records - due to his fine penmanship in the family Bibles, and to do much of the business correspondence for the less-educated settler. He was a reader, having recourse
to books supplied by the folks at home. He had a fund of good
stories and a ready wit which made him a splendid chairman or a
contributor to the programmes of school and church entertainments.
One can remember at one particular concert a long discourse on
"The Development of Weaving" which was not nearly as popular
as Fred Stevens' music-hall songs or the Waittses' comic skits.
However, the lecture interspersed with a number of well-told
jokes proved both informative and entertaining.
He was a welcome visitor in every home in the settlement,
having a meal wherever he went. A bachelor, he enjoyed the cooking of the women folks, for in the culinary art he was not an
expert. He brought the children delightful little booklets sent him
by his sisters and an aunt. I can still remember some of the
poems read to me before I was of school age:
Tu Whit, Tu Whoo, Oh, What Shall I do?
There's no fire at home to warm me through.
My wife's gone out to her Aunt's to tea
And taken away the cellar key.
I can't get coal, I can't get wood,
Not a drop to drink, not a bit of food.
32
33
How we reviled the poor old owl's cold-hearted wife.
Now which will you be,
Jane in the greenwood or
Jack by the sea - ?
conjured up pictures of happy children on holiday.
Mr. Stark often visited the Maxwells. On one occasion he
showed Aunt Mary the photo of the young woman whom he
should have married, and shed tears, as he confided to her the
story of the death of his sweetheart to whose memory he had
remained loyal.
The first Presbyterian Minister, Rev. Farquharson of Pilot
Mound, succeeded by the Rev. Cairns, held -the first regular services at. Mr. Stark's house. Myzie Maxwell was called in to make
the necessary preparations for these meetings, and according to
her, there was considerable clearing away to be done.
After twenty-five years of pioneering Mr. Stark at the request
of his relatives returned to Scotland. He lived to a good old age,
but even so it was with regret that his many Canadian friends
learned of his death.
Sometime after he returned to Scotland, a Minister, who had
toured Canada to procure material for a series of lectures spoke
in Mr. Stark's home town. The speaker made some detrimental
remarks about the "Colony"; at the end Mr. Stark rose to correct
any false impressions that might have been made by saying, "I
lived a quarter of a century in Manitoba, and most of what
has been said is in error of real facts." He was ready to testify
to the future greatness of Canada. As Bruce Hutchison would say,
"The Giant of Tomorrow."
-
J. Cumming an
d Family 1895' Mary, Flora, John,
"
J
Such settlers contributed greatly to the rapid development of
our pioneer communities.
The Son of Pioneers
MY FATHER
John Cumming was born in County Beauharnois, P.Q. (south
of Montreal), 1842. His parents, Scottish Highlanders, had migrated to Canada, 1831, during the period of great depression in the
British Isles. The land where they settled, forest-covered and
SWqmpy, had to be cleared and drained before it could be cultivated. He was brought up in a typical pioneer community where
opportunity for education was meagre and the amenities of life
almost non-existent. Regardless of the many privations he, his
brothers and sisters and many cousins had happy lives.
34
John Cummings 1888
35
t May Mackie Caroline.
ane"
,
· At the age of eighteen he left home to find work. This took
hIm to Montreal, where one could always engage with a shipping
company on the St. Lawrence and the Great Lakes. So it was that
he served his time to become a first class machinist and some
years later, qualified for a certificate as a lake Captain. '
1864 fou.nd him in Halifax shipping on an English blockade
runner ~arrymg food and war materials to the southern States
and takmg out cotton for the mills of Britain. The vessel on its
way down the coast was sighted and chased by a United States'
Man-Of-War. It was a close call; but the blockade runner was
able to make Havana just ahead of the pursuing vessel. The one
cheered the other as they sailed side by side into the neutral
harbour.
Jointly owned by himself and a banker. It had been docked some
distance up river where the fire swept down, threatening all the
boats. They attempted to move a number of vessels out, but the
bridge closed to enable the fleeing crowds to cross to safety.
Policemen stood guard, so it took considerable entreaty and threatening to persuade the officers of the law to open the bridge for a
short time to let the boats through. Finally this was done without
hazarding the lives of the fleeing refugees. So the vessels were
saved.
A storm on Lake Michigan drifted a small boat in which a
little boy was playing out into the open water. The frantic parents
begged that someone go to the rescue of their small son.
No one was willing to risk his life by venturing out in a gale
such as that. At last the appeal was made to Mr. Cumming.
He consented to run a tug boat out, despite the danger. This he
did, and reaching over as he came alongside the small craft, he
lifted the child safely aboard. The wee fellow looked up, quite
oblivious of the danger, and said, "Frankie had a good ridy." The
gratitude of the parents remained always a pleasant memory.
His boat was lost in a storm, the joint-owner got and kept
the insurance leaving his partner pretty well insolvent.
J. Cummings, 1883. The place wher l b .
classroom, Annie Thring the teacher.
e
was orn.
.
The upstaIrs the first
Then to steal out from Havana and make New Orleans was
another thrill for the adventurer. There he left the BrI·t· h h·
d
I· d· h
IS S Ip
an en Iste m t e northern army just about the time the Civil
War ended. H~ then joined the United States navy, serving four
years. on the DIctator. He always commended the American system
of faIr wages and promotion for the working man.
.On. his return to Canada he engaged with the Northern
Na~IgatlOn Company working out from Chicago, where he was
durmg the great fire. He related many times his experience on
that devastating day. The boat, of which he was captain, was
36
Just at this time, 1878, four nephews, sons of a brother who
had been killed in an accident, required direction and assistance
in settling down to make a living. Again, the opening up of the
west seemed the solution. The lure of cheap land on the prairies
enticed many an easterner to pull up stakes, and on April first
1879 John Cumming was on the Marringhurst plains, purple with
anemones, searching out a homestead. He filed on Sec. 18, TA,
R.12, arranged with James Wilson to build his shack while he
returned to Chicago for the summer's work with The Northern
Navigation Company. Returning west in the fall, he spent the
winter in the small log cabin.
I t was a unique experience, cooking meals, baking bread and
fishing through a hole in the ice in nearby Rock Lake. Such fish!
One huge pike measured twenty-nine inches in girth and was
correspondingly great in length.
A walk of nine miles to Pilot Mound for the mail was an
after supper diversion. On a frosty, moonlight night, as he made
his way over the snowy plain, he saw a wildcat sitting on the
road. He hesitated a moment, in case the animal attack; but decided
to take a chance so strode casually along and passed the fiercelooking night prowler. It just sat, indifferent to the intruder on
its privacy, and then moved slowly away.
37
Neighbours were few; McKnights, the nearest, became lifelong friends. Three young Englishmen, William and Frank Price,
and Mr. Esplin spent the winter here. The former remained in
Manitoba, later settling north of Huntly, and still later moved
to Baldur. Frank, having had enough of it, went to Vancouver
Island to end his days. Mr. Esplin, too, though deciding to remain
fi?ally settled in Glenboro. James Walsh, owner of a saw mill,
hiS two sons and his daughter, Maggie, lived within easy visiting
distance.
In the spring of 1880, once more the walk to Emerson to
take the train and back to the boating in Chicago.
In the fall of 1880 the Maxwells came bringing his wife and
the small daughter, May. When navigation closed he returned west
for good.
The spring of 1881 was one of high water. Never had the
Assiniboine flooded its banks so extensively. Father was engaged
to take a boat, the Marquette, up to Fort Pelly to bring the
Governor-General, the Marquis of Lorne, and his wife, Princess
Louise, down to Brandon. He and Albert Cramer set out to meet
the boat at Portage la Prairie. They walked across country, wading
through water a great part of the way, slept in an Indian tepee
one night and reached their destination on schedule.
The journey up the Assiniboine in the Hudson's Bay stern
wheeler, sometimes in midstream, sometimes taking a short cut
from bend to bend, required considerable skill in navigation. There
were numbers of passengers aboard bound for various places
between Winnipeg and Brandon. A young minister and his wife
were landed on what appeared to be an island. There was no one
at the boat to meet them. Father often wondered how they fared.
Often the boat had to pull in to take on wood for fuel. Sometimes an Indian wandering along the bank would be startled
into a panic at the sound of the shrill whistle, much to the
amusement of crew and passengers.
At Fort Pelly the Governor-General had just completed
negotiations and the signing of the second Indian Treaty. In
farewell, every member of the assembled tribes must shake hands
with the departing dignitary, until The Marquis, unable to raise
a hand, let it lie limp on the table. Each Indian came along,
picked up the weakened member, shook it vigorously, put it down
and passed along.
carry him and Willie Maxwell across country to Rock Lake. Over
the prairies with a compass was to father a voyage on the Great
Lakes.
In 1883 father moved to Huntly (still unnamed) where the
Maxwells had settled, procuring the quarter across the road
N.E. 1-14-15. During the winter David Maxwell became seriously
ill and died, the first death among the pioneers. His grave,
unmarked, has disappeared.
In February, 1884, father went East to Ormstown for a carload of cattle. After a winter of deep snow, he arrived back in
Emerson in March at the time of a spring thaw. The bringing of
those animals by way of Pembina Crossing, south of Manitou, and
on home was no mean task. He did it without a single loss. On
the way he came to a homestead near the crossing whose owner
had a stable snow-covered that had first to be dug out to the
doorway to let the cattle in, and a stack of hay. Here they stayed
until the herd was well rested and well fed before cOl1tinuing
the journey home.
It was a well-selected load of stock. I can still remember
Bell, Aggie and Mag, fine cows, that were the progenitors of good
·herds in the surrounding districts.
In 1887 Charles McKay, another immigrant from Ormstown,
bought his farm, and on New Year's Day 1888, he moved to Mr.
Henry's (a Metis) on the bank of Lome Lake. I do not know if
Father had anything to do with the naming of the lakes we could
see from our door, or if it were coincidence that they were so
named Lorne and Louise.
In 1894 Moropano Post Office was moved from Johnson's near
the Rosehill district to our home. Here it stayed until 1905 when a
petition was circulated requesting that it be moved to Neelin, on
the newly built C.N.R. which ran from Greenway to Wakopa
(1904).
Here Father lived until his death November 18, 1931, at the
age of eighty-nine years, ten months.
The trip back to Brandon was without incident. The Royal
Couple graciously thanked father for the safe journey, shaking
hands in farewell as they left the boat. Here he bought a blacksmith shop which he sold later, and a Red River cart and pony to
It was a long life full of interesting experiences and hardships.
Once a Conservative in politics, on the issue of Free Trade he
became an ardent Liberal, upholding the Laurier government on
the above, and on the conscription policy during the First World
War.
The farm was taken over in 1923 by John Jr. who occupied
it until 1965 when he retired to Belmont.
38
39
MY MOTHER
I am sure Mother had the most beautiful brown eyes in all
of Canada, besides possessing so many skills and womanly assets
that I liken her to the perfect woman described in Proverbs.
She was a small, dark-eyed fair-complexioned French Canadian
with all the artistry of that race. She had a pair of skillful hands,
an active mind, and a moral code that kept her family pretty well
on the straight and narrow path. There was no eluding her. If
there was mischief brewing she sensed it at once.
Our door was open to everybody. There was always a bed and
a meal for the wayfarer. We often wonder how she managed;
but as I look back, there did not seem to be any effort in the doing.
The Half Breeds came often in the early days to talk to her
in their mixture of French and Cree. She seemed always to interpret
correctly and to clear their difficulties. Many a time she would be
called away to minister to the sick of the neighbourhood and to
comfort those who sustained loss.
For a number of years she was incapacitated by an injury
due to a fall, and by arthritis, for which there was in that day
no remedy. She died October 29, 1925, at the age of sixty-nine
years and six months.
William Easton and family, 1895.
Mrs. Easton, Bernice.
Mr. Easton, Annabel, Alice, Andrew,
THE EASTONS
This family from Selkirk, Scotland, who knew James Graham
and William Stark in the old land were our nearest neighbours.
They were prepared to migrate to South Africa when their
second daughter, Alice became ill and postponed their departure.
In the meantime plans were changed, and 1882 found them on the
prairies instead of on the veldt. For a time they lived with Mr.
Stark, moving in 1885 to SW quarter Sec. 34-T3, R.15.
Mr. Easton, a promoter of church, school and everything that
made for a better community, Mrs. Easton, capable in many ways,
a good counsellor for the younger women, a sympathetic helper in
time of need (and the calls were many) devoted talent and energy
to off-set the harsh existence in pioneering and so made for themselves a name to be remembered in Huntly.
Mr. Easton was secretary treasurer of Huntly School for twenty-five years. When he went west in 1911 to pioneer a second time
on a homestead and to be near his daughters, the district presented
him with a purse of fifty dollars - small recompense for so many
years of service. It did carry with it the humble gratitude of the
contributors. That is certain!
Easton's House, 1885
40
41
Mrs. Easton, always delicate, died November, 1895, at the age
of fifty-one. From her little book of poems was taken the following,
written in memory of a friend and used on her own "In Memoriam":
The day of toil is o'er! The rest is won!
The morn of life is past, the noon-tide heat.
The western shades have stolen across the glen
Till eve's soft hand has spread its twilight folds
Round thy still form! Thy wearied heart now rests,
And tranquil slumber curtains thy repose.
Mr. Easton died in Brandon hospital in October, 1913. He
had returned to Manitoba after proving up his Saskatchewan homestead.
His son, Andrew, continued to live on the old farm for a
few years. He later moved to Neelin, where he operated the grain
elevator until his death February 28, 1948.
He had never been farther from home than Winnipeg, preferring to extend his hospitality, so bountifully, to friend and stranger
alike in his own hometown.
CHARLES McKAY
Of all the personalities among the pioneers in Huntly District
none was more colourful than Charles McKay.
His ancestry is worth noting. His grandmother was a stowaway on the ship sailing for York Factory on which was Sir
George Simpson, newly appointed Governor of the Hudson's Bay
Company. She left her well-to-do home to escape the discipline of
her strict Scottish parents. On the voyage she fell in love with
and married Sir George's valet.
In due time they reached the Selkirk Settlement and took up
land; but owing to the rigours and hardships of life at Red River
they, with others, left for Canada locating south of Montreal a~
Ormstown. There Charlie was born and raised.
his farm, moved to S.W. quarter 2-4-15, where his wife died at the
birth of a sixth child - all very sad. Relatives in the East came
to the rescue, taking the older daughter, Lily, and the baby Barbara
to care for. Unable to cope with the difficulties of batching and
caring for two sons, he married Charlotte Gosselin and proceeded
to make a living the hard way.
He moved from one farm to another and was the terror of
the countryside with his everlasting clearing of bush and setting
of fires. He used to say when the creditors became insistent, "Gosh
me, you can't get blood out of a stone."
Finally he settled on the banks of the Badger, where the big,
tough elms afforded him plenty to clear and burn. Every once in a
while, in spring, the river would go on the rampage and flood him
out; sometimes his buildings floated away. What did he do? Petition the government for aid? No! He started from scratch with the
spirit of that ancestress, the stowaway.
Looked after by his daughter Bella he lived to a good old age
and passed along to his reward.
Huntly Pioneers
Not for long did he remain in one place. Misfortune seemed
h!s lot ..The two youngest children, Jimmie and Eva, died of
dIphtherIa; he was unable to meet his financial obligations. lost
Aunt Mary Maxwell was a unique personality. She was tall
and spare with fine features. No one, to my knowledge, ever
criticized her and, at an early age, her nieces and nephews got
a feeling that she was without reproach. They treated her accordingly with affectionate esteem and reserve.
Her natural dignity commanded respect, and her quiet unobtrusiveness was offset by a pointed sarcasm (seldom used) which
dispelled any notion of passivity. She had come with her husband
and nine of her ten children to establish a new home. Uncle
David died in 1883 leaving her to face the strain of pioneering
single-handed.
So far as I can remember she never did a tap of work. Why
should she! There were always the devoted, grown-up daughters
to relieve her of the commonplace tasks. She never went out nursing as did the other women; she must always be at home and in her
own bed by nine, at the latest, and have a cup of tea before
she got up in the morning. Only once in all those years did she
sleep at our house. She had come to welcome Brother Donald from
the East. A storm came up; he was storm-stayed and so was she.
She had the most sympathetic attitude to all who needed a friend.
Her door was open to every passer-by, welcoming to her table with
equal hospitality young and old, saint and sinner. When her widowed daughter came from the East with her three children, the
mother took her in, where she remained until she married again;
42
43
He married Elizabeth McCaig, a distant relative of the Cummings, and moved to Lancaster, Ontario, where he engaged in
storekeeping, a sideline to his farming efforts. In 1887 the lure of
the west proved too strong; so to Manitoba he came with his wife
five children and a carload of farm equipment. It is said that a~
the train travelled along near Pilot Mound one of the horses fell
out of the car, but fortunately was not injured. He bought John
Cumming's farm opposite the Maxwells.
but Grandmother kept the little lame Grace until she was almost
grown-up.
Once she went on the annual railway excursion to visit her
birthplace. This decision was made because Mr. and Mrs. Walter
Mabon were going and would see that she got off safely at Lancaster, where brother Donald would meet her. This trip satisfied
a desire, long-cherished, but convinced her that Manitoba was
home. She brought back a beautiful vase, a family heirloom given
her by her Aunt Elizabeth Cumming.
She was fond of visiting, walking here and there to call
upon neighbours and relatives, comforting and cheering them; her
very presence dispelled worry and gloom. Almost every Saturday
in summer she walked the four miles to the post office kept
by brother John. As soon as dinner was over and the mail sorted
she bundled the neighbours' and her own letters and papers into
her big apron and set off for home.
tive labour on their respective farms. Sport was just not in their
line. They attended diligently to their work, never failing to give a
helping hand to others in time of need. They were independent,
honest in business, generous in judgment and consistent in evaluation.
The members of the family married and settled not too far
away; but in 1905, much to her sorrow, Malcolm and David moved
to Viking, Alberta.
One remembers her staunch Highland clannishness. When she
sang, on occasion, a snatch of Gaelic song, the listener found
himself wanting to weep the pathos was so nostalgic - the Highlands, the sea, hills of home, the emigrant. Her moral and Christian
upbringing were deeply rooted. She lived her life, accepting her lot
~ith patient fortitude, never complaining. Once I heard her say
Yet IS man born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upwards." Being
young I wondered what the meaning, but it has made me think of
her many times since.
.
She homesteaded the quarter just west of her first home, where
Duncan Cumming built her a small log house and which she occupied until her death December 18, 1917. The house stood intact
until 1967 when it was taken down.
Malcolm Cummings Shack
The Cumming brothers were big men physically, who were
less interested in social activities and sport than in the remunera-
Jock was the best-read man in the district, capable of assessing the trends of the day. They were staunch Liberals. On being
questioned on his political affiliations during World War I, Malcolm declared he could not vote for a prime minister who parted
his hair in the middle.
Will liked to visit. After disposing of his farm in Huntly, he
went to Belmont, where he was employed for several years by one
of the grain companies. His three daughters became teachers, his
wife died, his only tie a farm at Altamont which was rented. Now
he was able to run about at will, calling on friends and relatives as
suited his time and disposition. He was excellent company and
welcome in every home. To be a good visitor is an enviable quality
to possess.
44
45
Our Agriculturists
Certainly some of those who came to farm made a poor attempt at it. Not so with Jock, Will and Malcolm Cumming, Aunt
Meran's sons, Walter Mabon and William Maxwell. Their prosperity was attributed by their less industrious neighbours to their closesaving propensities. Not so. Will Cumming once said that if he had
a son he would not send him to Agricultural College, he would hire
him out to Walter Mabon for a year.
Here were young men who had to make, unassisted, their way
in life, and they did.
Walter Mabon was more community minded. He was a number
of times a member of the school board, a councillor and a reeve
of the municipality. He, after his retirement to Belmont, settled his
sons (four of them) on land near together, Edgar on the home
place. These sons, like their father, are good farmers and continue
in the district with their families now grown to manhood and
womanhood. So the generations come and go in order of time and
circumstance.
. f';1r. Mab?n. and Mr. McLennan owned the first threshing
mIll m the dlstnct, a horse power. This machine was much in
demand before the advent of the steam thresher.
WILLIAM MAXWELL
vegetable and flower gardens attended with care revealed the
character of the owners - their love for tidiness and order.
Mrs. McLennan, the perfect housekeeper, had everything under
control. The house plants in the windows, so lush, denoted a green
thumb; the clean yellow-painted floors enhanced the sunshine
streaming in through the shiny windows to make every room
'
bright and cheery.
A visitor was always made welcome. Drop in any time of the
day, he or she was received as warmly as if expected - no
telephones to announce one's coming - and was never made to feel
that the time .~as inconvenient for entertaining. Pressed to stay for
a meal, the VIsItor was treated to the best with as much consideration as if a prince had arrived. The conversation always turned to
the happenings that made for fun and laughter. One came away
refreshed.
William Maxwell, the eldest of Aunt Mary's family, a young
man in his early twenties when he came to Manitoba was her
mainstay after the death of his father. He was diligent' and persevering, prospering accordingly. That he was well-to-do made no
difference to his way of life; honest, generous he continued to be.
Not only di~ he assist the members of his immediate family,
but became a kmd of local bank where the less progressive of
the district could borrow when in need of ready cash. For those
who failed to redeem their notes he must often have been the loser .
.
His sisters, Jean and Maggie, helped out in busy seasons
with his housekeeping until he married Bella Gruer, Mrs. Mabon's
sister. He had four sons to inherit his estate when he died in
June, 1918.
His short life was one of achievement in building up a fine
fa.rm home, no:" occupied by his youngest son, Mack. In taking
hIS Jul~ sh~re m the growt? of a pioneer district from its very
begmnmg mto a well-orgamzed one, he testified to what can be
accomplished by persistent effort, whatever the obstacles.
THE McLENNAN FAMILY
One recalls with pleasure the McLennans, Mr. and Mrs. R.
McLennan and their four daughters, a typical Eastern Canadian
family, industrious, thrifty, enterprising and hospitable. They were
descendants from Loyalists who had migrated to Upper Canada
1780 or thereabouts, and had settled in Glengarry County, Ontario,
made famous by Ralph Connor.
Mlna, Mrs. McLennan, Lena, Roderick McLennan, Mary Jane, Sarah.
~he tall frame house stood on a sunny knoll facing south;
the bIg, red barn at the back sheltered the fine shorthorn herd
of cattle, known to every stock farmer in the province. The neat
After Mother had spent an afternoon with the McLennans
her daughters could always expect a blast of adverse criticism.
"Comparisons are odious." But there it was! The McLennan girls
so clever with their hands had shown yards of knitted lace, mitts
with pretty designs on the backs, hooked mats and whatnot! What
had her daughters done? Spent all their spare time reading, reading, forever reading. It was humiliating to say the least. But
whatever the inward resolve to rise to heights of usefulness we
never achieved the art of perfect craftsmanship.
46
47
They were good church people supporting the pioneer ministers
to the utmost. One saw them on a summer Sunday driving to
Huntly School, a big work horse hitched to the small buckboard.
They had their sorrows as others. Their eldest daughter, Mrs.
Andrew Easton, died at the birth of her baby in March 1901;
the baby, cared for by his grandmother, died in August of the
same year.
The other three daughters married, Mary Jane and Sarah living
in Holmfield, Jemima on a farm in that district. They must have
been a comfort to the aging parents after their retirement from
the strenuous life of pioneer farming.
THE SOMERVILLE FAMILY
This was a large family, seven boys and four girls. Tommy,
father's nephew, came with his wife and four children in the
spring of 1889. Their first home, a very modest one with an
earthen floor, was soon enlarged to accommodate the growing
number of occupants.
Mr. Somerville, interested in local politics, was for sometime
a member of the Municipal Council, and a very capable one; Mrs.
Somerville centred all her efforts in the home to provide the needs
of her household. This she did with diligent perseverance.
It seemed not long until some of the family were old enough
to leave home in order to earn their own living; William and
Thomas went west, George, after graduating from high school,
enlisted, went overseas 1914-18 and was killed at Passchendaele.
John and Robert remained on farms in Huntly district until retirement to Neelin. The other members of the family settled in
nearby communities. The old farm has passed to strangers.
THE WILLIAM SONS
Three brothers, Jim, Harry and Let, from near Ottawa were
early comers to the district, but it is to the latter I must direct
attention, as he was a resident for many years, bringing up a
family of nine and contributing to the development of the community in no small measure.
Mr. Williamson was of Irish descent, had engaged in the
logging business in Ontario, and now turned to farming on the
prairie, 1886.
A gruff outspokenness, not often relished by his neighbours,
belied a kindly heart under a somewhat rough exterior. One can
fail to interpret downright honesty of expression. A year or so
after the death of his wife he married his sister-in-law who took
up the management of his household with skill and energy.
48
Wherever there was need for help the Williamsons were there.
Mr. Williamson saw to it that Mr. Daniels, old a.nd alone, was
cared for. He built a commodious brick house to smt the members
of his family and to extend an abounding hospitality to all who
came.
As the family grew up, all but Bob and Ho~ard left the
district to find employment elsewhere, each one playmg a worthy
part wherever he settled, doing honour to parents who gave
them good direction.
WILLIAM DANIELS
Billy Daniels was in a class all by hims~lf among the e~~ly
settlers. He was a short, stocky Irishman WIth all the quah~les
attributed to the Irish. He surely never let a tart tongue-Iashmg
disturb his equanimity or rouse his ire. His philosophy was to
maintain the peace under any circumstances; well, except .when
the neighbours' children took a short cut to school across hIS one
field. I am sure he was often imposed upon, and he kept a savage
dog as a means of protection against intruders.
He was no farmer. They were very, very poor, living in the
most tumbledown, low dwelling - a mere roof over a shallow
cellar. He was a veritable Rip Van Winkle, lo:red to wand~r al~)ll,g
the banks of the valley with his dog, gun m hand. HIS wife s
constant scolding did not improve his way of life; and she had
provocation enough, dear knows, for venting her bad temper on. a
husband so improvident. Later they had a much better home bUIlt
in a grove of poplars near their first dwelling.
Their family, Bessie and Margaret, twins, Geor~in~ and JimI?ie
were well in their teens when they came to the dISt~lct. Ge~rgma
had a beautiful voice and sang, on request, to enter tam us chIldren
when she came to visit. The twins had keen senses of humour
and could mimic the neighbours to perfection - all in good spirit.
Mrs. Daniels died in August, 1893, after a life of struggle. and
hardship. She testified on her death bed to her faith in a pro.vIdent
and loving God; and so passed in peace to her reward m ~he
great beyond. Mrs. Easton and Mother ca:ried out her last WIsh
to be wrapped in a white shroud for bunal, as was the custom
in her native land. Mr. Daniels died a few years later, after a
short illness, in Killarney cottage hospital.
Pioneer Homesteads 1880-1895
Location:
NE 14-4-15
NE 14-4-15
Occupant:
J ames Bremner
Robert Bremner
49
Location:
SW 12-4-15
NE 12-4-15
SW 7-4-14
NW 7-4-14
moved SW 7-4-14
SW 8-4-15
SE 27-3-15
NE 1-4-15
moved SW 2-4-15
NE 26-3-15
NE 6-4-14
SE 9-4-15
SW 10-4-15
NW 10-4-15
NE 33-3-15
NW 2-4-15
SW 2-4-15
Occupant:
W al ter Mabon
J. T. McEwan
Roderick McLennan
Charles McKay
Thomas Somerville
William Stark
Let Williamson
Harry Williamson
James Williamson
Robert Anderson
Huntly School
Cheese Factory
(a) Pelican Lake
(b) Outlet
(c) Pembina River
(d) Lome Lake
(e) Glendenning Road
~L
Changes
The pattern of a district does not remain the same for long.
Soon a number of the first homesteaders left and newcomers
arrived to take up the vacated land.
Occupant:
Thomas Bremner
Thomas Cook
William Coutts
John Cumming S.
Charles Cumming
John Cumming Jr.
William Cumming
Malcolm Cumming
Donald Cumming & Mother
Duncan Cumming
William Daniels
William Easton
David Maxwell Sr.
Mrs. Mary Maxwell
William Maxwell
Andrew Mabon
Location:
SW 14-4-15
SW 3-4-15
NW 35-3-15
NE 1-4-15
moved NE 28-3-15
NE 2-4-15
NE 24-4-15
NW 2-4-15
moved SW 13-4-15
SE 34-3-15
SE 14-4-15
NE 13-4-15
NW 34-3-15
moved NE 4-4-15
SW 34-3-15
SE 12-4-15
50
From 1890 to 1900, among the families that moved in to
establish homes and play an important part in community development were George McGill, his grown-up sons and daughters, and
included in his household were Miss Huffman, his sister-in-law,
and Artie Huffman, a nephew. He bought and resided on the
quarter formerly homesteaded by Charles Cumming, later acquiring
more land to enlarge the farm. In all progressive enterprises the
McGills were energetic promoters.
Will Cumming married Margaret Bryson of Ormstown about
1890. In 1897 her brother John arrived with his bride, Nettie
Lockerby; and the following year the Lockerby and Bryson families
came. Mr. John Lockerby, locating NE 36-3-15, became the local
blacksmith, Mr. Bryson taking over Will Cumming's homestead,
NW 2-4-15, the former having moved to SW 13-4-15.
These families brought young people with talent and experience who did much to stimulate social life, so much needed.
Concerts - good ones, debates, house parties, picnics all in their
season tended to bring the people together welding friendships and
promoting co-operation that helped tide over the isolation of pioneer life.
51
Del Smith requires special mention as he continued to live
in the. d.istrict for many years. He came as a young man, worked
!or WIllIam Maxwell and other farmers for a time, eventually buyIng NE 3-4-15. Here he and Mrs. Smith raised their large family.
N? one was m.ore energetic than Del Smith in promoting everythIng w?rthwhrle - sc~ool, church, social activity - and in every
way actIng the good neIghbour to all who needed a helping hand.
He eventually retired to Belmont. None of his family remain in
Huntly to carryon the tradition of good works as set by their
parents.
There were many transients, those who came to live here
or there, ei1her renting or occupying a vacant house for the time
being. They contrilJUted little to growth or improvement so require
no mention in this account that is concerned with those who
became perman en t]y established.
Mr. Roller, an American, came, as many of his countrymen
did as this time, bought the Daniel homestead from the then
owner, John McCuaig, Sr. Here he farmed for many years. After
his death Walter took over the operation of the land.
In September, 1963, Mrs. Smith at the age of ninety-one years
was entertained in Belmont at a dinner at which all the family
were present, a number of relatives and six friends to make a
table of forty guests. She died 1968.
George Weedmark and family came to S 1-4-15. Better people
one could never have as neighbours. After Mrs. Weedmark's death,
Mr. Weedmark married again and went to Edmonton; but eventually he returned, living sometimes in an institution. Over ninety
years of age he was still active; he died in 1966.
Besides these, other young men came as farm labourers and
one might say, to spy out the land, married, settled down t~ rais~
families and to contribute a worthy share to the work of the
community. Among them were Henry Green William Aikens and
William Fairservice who bought James Wniiamson's farm. '
About this time, also, came a number of families whose stay
was short. Of these were Mr. J. James, an excellent stonemason
and plasterer, his son-in-law, Allen Kavanaugh and George and
Cephas Martin. The latter, a good cheese-mak~r, ran the factory
for two or three seasons, often taking prizes for his product in
the local fairs.
Further Changes -
1900-1910
No sooner does it seem that when we think from now on
life will contin.ue. indefi?itely, unchanged, something happens to
dIspel so unrealIstIc a notIon. In 1905 the provinces of Saskatchewan
and Alberta had just been organized. Many of the pioneer families
had grown to manhood and womanhood, and now must establish
themselves in the scheme of things.
So it was when cheap land and homesteads were opened up
.
In the two new provinces there was migration from Huntly. Among
those who went, some to Alberta, some to Saskatchewan were
David Maxwell, Mackie Cumming, William Somerville,' Mack
Cumming, the Bremners, the Robert Andersons, the J ameses,
Ka~anaugh~ and ev~n Mr. Easton. Jim and Jack Williamson, having
~o In~erest In farmIng, left to find work in less strenuous occupatIOn, Insurance and accountancy. At their going the loss seemed
irreparable, but into the district came others to take the place of
the newly departed.
52
Donald McKenzie and William Cumming, Mrs. McKenzie's
brother, came in the spring of 1907. The former bought SYz 4-15,
later sold out to George Thomson Jr. and moved to S 10-4-15
where he developed a typical Eastern farm-home. Of their large
family, four daughters and six sons, Donald and Jimmie have
remained in Huntly.
William Cumming bought S 11-4-15. He was interested in
every phase of community life. His presence at social functions
was a "must." He was an ardent sports fan and a staunch Liberal
in politics, a sometime delegate to the Liberal conventions in
Ottawa.
He married Jean Maxwell, built a fine brick house and was a
well-established resident for many years.
Three sisters came in turn from the East to teach Huntly
School, and incidentally to keep house for their bachelor brother.
Margaret married Percy Neelin, Bessie married Howard Williamson and May returned East; but at the death of William's wife
she returned to Manitoba to maintain his home until his death in
March, 1960.
The Beaulacs, George and William, bought the McLennan
farm. Neelin being a more convenient centre for them, they took
little interest in Huntly's affairs.
The Pioneer Church
Not to record the concern of the church for the spiritual welfare of the pioneer communities would be remiss. On looking back
one can have only admiration for those who made provision for
services, and for tlIose who so devotedly went from settlement to
53
settlement under most adverse conditions to minister to the people,
much as the Apostles of old.
At first church services were held in the homes. It is certain
that Mr. Stark was one who saw to it that these be held, and
opened his house as the meeting place. Saturday was the day of
preparation and there was much ado in cleaning up, polishing
the stove, providing seats and whatnot. Sometimes he enlisted
the help of capable Myzie Maxwell when all would be in order
as desired.
Mr. Farquharson of Pilot Mound, Mr. Coutts's brother-in-law,
was the first minister. How often he came one does not know.
It was a forty-five-mile drive, but come he did for church, funeral,
baptism and marriage services.
He it was that performed the marriage service for Mr.
and Mrs. James Bremner - the first wedding in Huntly. It
was he who preached the funeral service for the two small Montague
children who died of diphtheria, and baptized all the first-born
in the district, myself included.
Many years later the Reverend Farquharson preached in
Huntly School - an old man who had devoted his life to the
spiritual welfare of the people.
After Mr. Farquharson, Mr. Cairns took up the work. He was
as devoted to the need of spiritual sustenance as his predecessor.
I remember his baptizing two children in our home, my sister
Janet and Bill Gordon.
latter stood to sing; a solo. This was special: a fine song "The
Better Land" by Mrs. Hemans, a fine voice to make it impressive. Never ha.ve I Ileard better, even in large churches with welltrained choirs_
Besides the regular Presbyterian services, evangelistic groups
were interested in spreading the gospel. The Pentecostals held
meetings every summer; Mr. Vipond and Mr. Keyes from Killarney
preached spirited sermons, not without results.
So the spiritual values of life were stressed, thanks to the
earnest devotion of those who would remind one of the shortness
of life.
Epilogue
A small organ was purchased for the school, which served
for the church as well, with Kitty Lockerby as organist. When
she married and went to live in Trinidad, Mrs. Colin McGill took
over this part of the service.
Friday, June 28, 1968, residents of Huntly School observed
the integration of the school district into the larger unit and the
closing of the school by a reunion of former residents, ex-teachers,
ex-pupils, and of residents and non-residents from neighbouring
communities. They deserved to be congratulated on the results
of their effort, in having a response so gratifying. Approximately
three hundred, coming from every part of the country from coast
to coast, signed the visitor's book.
The crowd gathered on the school grounds was warmly welcomed by Donald McKenzie. This was followed by a period of
intermingling which enabled one to contact old friends or relatives,
many of whom one had not seen for years. Present were descendants of every pioneer family, except the Eastons and the Bremners.
The visiting period was followed by the serving of a sumptuous
picnic supper; and to conclude, the company was entertained by
a short musical programme. Among the items were choruses by the
pupils, old time music by Mr. and Mrs. John Cumming, and the
solo How Great Thou Art rendered beautifully by Mrs. Ted Smith.
Those present parted with mingled feelings - of sadness for
what is past, and of hopefulness for what may be ahead to make
life more meaningful for the rising generations.
Compiled March 1963.
In summer there was a Sunday School with a good attendance, the Lang brothers among the first teachers.
Pioneer Families
About 1890 there were resident ministers at Belmont and for
years Huntly was one of their appointments with services held
in the school house. In winter church was poorly attended, hence
often discontinued due to long distances and bad roads; in summer
attendance was good, providing opportunity to meet one's friends
and neighbours as well as hear a sermon. Always there was the
lingering round outdoors in groups, discussing weather and crop
prospects.
I remember one summer Sunday brightly green and glistening in freshness as only a Sunday can be. The congregation, wellgroomed and dressed in its best, had gathered, Kitty, immaculate,
at the organ, Maude by the window. At the right moment the
54
1880-1890
A. 1. David & Mary Maxwell & Family: 1880
William - Farmed
May - Married Jack Robertson, Minto
55
Alexander - Teacher. Entered oil business near Edmonton,
Alta. N.B. this family moved to Gilbert Plains, 1894, where
four more children were born.
Malcolm - Moved to Viking, Alta., 1905
Mary - Married John Gordon, Belmont
Flora - Married James Hall, Alma District
Betsy - Married James Williamson
David - Moved to Viking, Alta., 1905
Jean - Married W. G. Cumming
Margaret - Married Andrew Easton
Charles - Farmed - moved to Belmont
6. Thomas & Mrs. Bremner:
Mrs. Bremner died in 1894, Mr. Bremner moved to Unity,
Sask., 1905
(All deceased)
2. Let & Elizabeth Williamson & Family: 1886
Elizabeth - Milliner - married Wm. Martin
James L. - Worked for Wawanesa Life, Retired to Victoria
Robert - Farmed in Huntly - retired to Calgary
John - Bookkeeper for Lumber Co., Winnipeg
George - Farmed in Huntly - retired to Victoria
Margaret - Nurse - lives in Calgary
May - Married G. Armitage
Howard - Farms in Huntly
Reuben - Farmed in Huntly, now works on Lake Manitoba
boats
3. William & Annie Easton & Family: 1882
Andrew - Farmed, later operated Neelin Elevator
Annabel - Married Alex McCaig, moved to Nokomis, Sask.
Alice - Married Mack Cumming, moved to Sask., lived in
S1. Vital, moved to Calgary, 1963
Beatrice - Married David Bryson, moved to Young, Sask.
4. John & Lena Cumming:
May - Deceased 1897
Malcolm - Moved to Viking, Alta., 1905
Flora - Married John McCuaig, moved to Lydden, Sask.
Caroline - Teacher, retired to St. Vital, 1957
Janet - Teacher, married W. J. Wood, Winnipeg Beach,
killed in an accident, 1928
Mary - Married Alex Lockerby, retired to Winnipeg, 1945
John - Farmed the home place, in Huntly
Isabel - Nurse - married W. J. Wood, lives in Winnipeg
5. Charles & Mary Cumming:
Douglas - Dressmaker, married Rev. E. Johnston, lived in
Winnipeg.
William - C.N.R. engineer, lived at Souix Lookout
Eliza beth - Deceased
Margaret - Nurse. Did honourable service in World War I
Retired in Winnipeg, awarded Royal Red Cross.
Euphemia - Deceased
56
7. Thomas & Sarah Somerville:
William - Moved to Viking, Alta., 1906
May - Married Tom Freeman, Killarney
Thomas - Moved to Hanna, Alta., farmed
Margaret - Nurse, married Lindsay Smith, Ninette
Betsy - Dressmaker, retired to Winnipeg
John - Farmed the home place, retired to Neelin
Robert - Farmed, lives in Neelin
George - Killed at Passchendaele World War I
Eddie - Farmed at Cartwright & Killarney
Flora - Teacher - married Wm. East, Cartwright
Lawrence - C.N.R. Section man - Goodlands
8. William & Annie Daniels:
Bessie - Married Jas. Smith, moved to Unity, Sask.
Margaret - Married Malcolm Cumming
Georgina - Married Robert Anderson, moved to Unity,
Sask.
James - Farmhand - moved to Unity
9. Charles & Elizabeth McKay:
John - Farmed, an amateur photographer (a good one)
operated a hardware store in Neelin
Allan - Farmed in the Valley, S.W. of Neelin
Lily - Lived in Ormstown after the mother's death
James - Died of diphtheria 1890
Eva - Died of diphtheria 1890
Barbara - Brought up by an aunt in the East
Tommy - Lived near Neelin - deceased
Bella - Married A. Weedmark
(last two children by a second marriage)
B. Young Pioneer Bachelors (1880-1890) who married here and
whose families attended Huntly School.
1. Walter & Joanne Mabon
John - Farmer, deceased 1962
Agnes - Married J. Gillies, deceased
Jane - Married E. Hamilton, Ochre River, Man.
Norman - Farms at Neelin, Married Rose Gosselin
Carl - Farms at Neelin, married Rita Weedmark
57
Edgar - Farmed the home place, married Bea Gosselin,
retired to Belmont
Gladys - Teacher, married Mr. Rogers, Nesbitt, Man.
2. John & Annie Cumming & Family:
Edith - Married George Beckam, deceased
Gordon - Farmed the home farm, lives at Elgin
Flora - Housekeeper in Winnipeg, home in Huntly
Mary - Married F. Sampson, bought Will Cumming's farms
Donald - Lives in England
Grace - Married, lives in Winnipeg
Isabel - Married, lives in Winnipeg
Helen - Teacher. Married Mr. Burdeny. (Their son Barry
Burdeny - a noted artist.)
3. William & Margaret Cumming & Family:
Marian - Teacher, married H. Rogers, deceased
Ella - Teacher, married C. Madson, lives at Neepawa
Irene - Teacher, married C. Fargey, lives in Edmonton
4. Malcolm and Margaret Cumming & - Family:
Callum - Deceased 1910
Annie - Married George Beckam, deceased 1916
Roy - Deceased
Gordon - Farms his mother's homestead. Retired
William - Farmed the home farm, lives in St. Vital
5. William and Bella Maxwell & Family:
David - Farms in Belmont District. Retired
William - Farms in Huntly
Currie - Farms in Neelin District
Malcolm - Farms the home place
6. James & Betsy Williamson & Family:
Lived in Huntly, moved to Alma, later to Belmont district.
Albert - Deceased
Arthur - Farmed Belmont district
Frank - Farmed Belmont district
Charles - Farmed in Belmont district
Russell - Served in World War I, Farmed in Belmont
district
James - Farmed in Belmont district
7. James & Euphemia Bremner & Family:
James, Richard, Elizabeth and John. (Latter killed in an accident when a boy)
The family moved to Unity, Sask., after Mr. Bremner's death.
58
8. Dunca.n & Margaret Cumming &. Family:
Charles, Minnie, E1izab~th, Duncan, Maggie May, Carrie,
John, Lillian, Florence (moved to Winnipeg in early 1900,
none remained in Huntly).
Only the older of above three families attended Huntly.
9. Henry & Efhel Green & Family:
Doris, Albert, Mabel, Evelyn, Cecil, Lester. The latter farm
the home place
Settlers who came to the District 1890-1900 and
whose children attended Huntly School:
1. Roderick & Sarah McLennan & Family:
Christina - Dressmaker, married A. Easton
Mary Jane - Teacher, married G. Harrison, Holmfield
Sarah Janet - Married T. Cairns, Holmfield
Jemima - Married A. Jackson, Holmfield
N.B. Sold their fine stock farm 1908. Moved to Holmfield.
2. Josiah & Mrs. James & Family - moved west.
Hannah (Mrs. Kavanaugh) A husband and two young daughters.
John, Nathan, Ferguson, Marshall, Alma. Moved to Hanna, Alta.
3. Del & Mrs. Smith & Family:
Blanche - Married, lives in Victoria, B.C.
Kat - Married Wilson Aikens
Delmar - Married May Bramwell - deceased
Clifford - Lives in B.C.
Robert, Elgin, Ada, Jessie. None remain in Huntly. Two children died when quite young.
4. Thomas & Mrs. Maloney & Family:
Minnie
David - Married Angey Deedman
Dot
June
Charles
Wilfred
Ernest - Killed overseas, World War I
Jane
Helen
Florence
The youngest members attended Huntly School.
5. Robert &: Georgina Anderson:
Flossie, Lyle, Violet, moved to Sask., 1905
59
Adult Families who came 1896-1900 descendants of some still live in Huntly.
1. George & Mrs. McGill & Family:
Colin - Married Helen Moir, their sons, Herbert & Alvin
farm the home place.
Bert - Married Nettie Maloney - lived Mount Hope District
King - Married Alice Kelly - moved to Alberta
Flora - Bookkeeper - employed in Killarney
Margaret - Secretary - married P. K. Rollins, Killarney
2. John Bryson:
John - Married Nettie Lockerby. Moved to Young, Sask.
Margaret - Married Will Cumming
James - Married in West. Lived at Young, Sask.
Ella - Married E. Street, lived at Young, Sask.
Isabel - Married. Lived in Cal.
Peter - Moved to Young, Sask.
David - Married Beatrice Easton. Lived in Young.
3. John Lockerby:
David - Married. Lived at Baldur
Maude - Married Malcolm Cumming
Catherine - Married S. Williams. Lived in Trinidad
Nettie - Married John Bryson
Ethel - Married Henry Green
Barbara - Married Chas. Maxwell, moved to Belmont
Alex - Married Mary Cumming. Their son and family live
on home place.
4. Donald & Janet McKenzie - came 1907
Duncan - Moved west
Flora - Teacher. Married Wm. Thompson
Barbara - Teacher. Married, lives at Morris
Mary Jane - Teacher. Married Aif Neelin, live at Killarney
Donald - Farms. Lives on Wm. Cumming's homestead
Bruce - Married. Farms at Morris
William - Graduate of University of Manitoba. Works in
Hamilton, Ontario
Graham - Graduate of University of Manitoba. With Department of Agriculture, Manitoba.
Elizabeth - Teacher. Married McRuer, Desford
James - Farms the home place
5. George & Mrs. Weedmark
Alton
Pearl - Died at an early age
Albert - Married Bella McKay
Chester - Married Maudie McKay
Rita - Married Carol Mabon
60
LOCAl'lVlV
N.E. 33-3-15
N.E. 3-4-15
N.W. 2-4-15
S.E. 25-4-15
S.W. 25-4-15
S.W. 11-4-15
S.W. 8-4-15
N.W. 10-4-15
N.E. 35-3-15
S.W. 35-3-15
N.E. 4-4-15
N.E. 36-3-15
N.E. 36-3-15
N.E. 8-4-15
S.E. 36-3-15
S.W. 36-3-15
S.E. 3-4-15
N.E. 4-4-14
N.W. 34-3-15
N.E. 2-4-15
moved N.W. 1-4-15
N.E. 2-4-15
N.E. 9-4-15
S.E. 4-4-15
moved S.E. 10-4-15
S.E. 1-4-15
N.E. 3-4-15
S.W. 1-4-15
N.W. 7-4-14
N.E. 4-4-15
SETTLERS
Robert Anderson
William Aiken
John Bryson, Sr,
John Bryson, ]:r,
J ames Bryson
Wm. G. Cumming
Peter DuHty
Wm, Fairservice
Henry Green
Josiah James
Allen Kavanaugh
John Lockerby
Alex Lockerby
Vin Maloney
Cephas Martin
George Martin
David Maxwell, Jr.
Chas. Maxwell
John McCaig, Sr.
George McGill
Colin McGill
Bert McGill
Donald McKenzie
Neil Shaw
Del Smith
George Weedmark
Robert Williamson
Howard Williamson
Reminiscences
The Seasons:
I remember winter in the pioneer days of Huntly. There
were the log houses, squat and sturdy, sca~tered over ~e snowcovered land, smoke rising in the frosty aIr ~rom the tm stovei es protruding through the roofs, - sometimes sod~ed, some~~es po lar shingled, the kind of shing!es that warped WIth weatheringThe drifting snow gave to the aIr a hazy appearance. I n
see the wind-swept valley, the hay stacks in the meadow and t e
wooded hills beyond.
It seemed colcler in winter then. The houses chinked and
plastered with mud were not always wind-proof. Great stoves
burning large pieces of wood stood in the middle of one room
Ct
61
giving off sufficient heat to warm the lower part of the house during
the day. At night, when stoking ceased, temperatures fell low and
it took considerable time in the morning to get a normally comfortable condition.
I remember the children warm setting out for school, lunch
in hand, in their heavy, home-made clothing. Mother knit the
stockings and sewed the dresses and coats. Not very fashionable
by today's standards, but serviceable. A walk of two or three
miles demanded common-sense dress.
I remember, too, the fun along the way with the companions
who joined us, running over the snowy drifted roads to the little
one-roomed school with a porch, often cold when we got there.
It was all in the day's happening. At recesses and noon hockey,
football and sliding on the big pond nearby. No skates, but often
a football stuffed with straw was the playground equipment. We
never seemed wearied. Another walk home after school tested
our stamina.
I remember the visitors who, all unexpected, arrived for supper
and to spend the evening. There were no telephones to inform
us that company was on the way.
By way of entertainment the occasional concert drew a crowd
from surrounding districts. The talent often exceeded all expectation. Fred Stevens always delighted the audience with his many
concert hall numbers:
Oh, Liza, dear Liza if you die an old maid,
You only have yourself to blame
He was a show in himself, better than anything seen on T.V.
Winter work taxed the most stalwart. There were no laboursaving devices, no conveniences of any kind, everything had to be
done the hard way. The procuring of the year's supply of wood
was hard work. If there was norreon the farm, then one set out
early on the bob-sleigh drawn by a team of oxen or horses to
the nearest wooded section to cut a load oIpoles which he must
getholllebY_!1ig.ht-fal1. WJien enough wood had been hauled to
last until the next winter, it must then be sawn. For this task a
large family came in handy; each member learned to use a saw.
I remember the long cold trips to town to get supplies. Sometimes farm produce, meat, eggs, butter would be taken to exchange
for tea, sugar, clothing, a barrel of apples and sometimes near
Christmas a few luxuries. Also, loads of hay, wood and grain were
sold, often at a very low price, if the commodity were plentiful.
lighting of a lantErn to oversee the stabling of the weary team
was hastened; the pile of groceries carried in, and the precious
coal oil can with an apple stuck on the spout to prevent spilling;
and lastly the bela ted supper when the returned member recounted
the latest news from near and far.
I remember the coming of spring, the lengthening days;
sunshine brilliant and penetrating and the winds veering in direction. Fleecy, white clouds sailed the deep blue sky, or banked darkly
to bring the· first ~pring rains.
How lovely the valley! Sometimes a flash flood made a lake
from bank to banl; the ice crashed and ground with the force of
the water behind as it roared down the Pembina. Migrant geese,
ducks and swans lit on the water in numbers for a short stay.
Crows, robins, meadow-larks and other spring birds came in quick
succession as the days grew warmer. The buds on the trees developed like magic, and the meadow and hillsides became beautifully green before our very eyes. From the river bank we watched
the fish jump out of the water as they made their way up stream
to the spawning ground, and we listened to the blackbirds serenade
from the fringes of tall willows.
The seeding, the gardening, the clearing away of the winter
debris occupied the men; the housecleaning, the setting of hens
and turkeys, the milking kept the women busy. A hundred things
to be done with few conveniences.
I remember long ago Mr. Easton plowing and harrowing,
and sowing by hand his few acres across the road. Laborious
work but never neglected. Then came the first seeders that relieved the strain of manual labour. I remember the anxiety lest
the rain fail or that it be too wet a season.
To school went the children, slates and books in hand, often
wading, boots and all, through the spring-made ponds, to sit all
day in wet shoes. Who cared? There were the a_!lemones the
buttercups and three-flowered avons. Best of all, the bobolink
never failed to swing on a slender willow branch, sing his song
and contemplate a nest nearby, one that small searchers were
never able to find. The joys of spring prevailed. A tepee of
poplar poles was built; a place for a playhouse in a sheltered
grove was cleared; and the summer fun begun.
So long ago! All is changed. To me it is a new but less
pleasant world.
I remember the waiting for the return of the absent member
of the family. The jingling of the sleigh bells, the scrunching of
the runners on the frosty snow announced his arrival. Then the
I remember the summer with the long warm days of sunshine; the refreshing rains accompanied often by lightning, wind
and sometimes hail; the green hills, meadows and woodlands
bathed in golden glow or shrouded in a shadow of cloud and rain.
62
63
The highest point of Turtle Mountain, purple in the distance, stood
out in the clear air. The prairies, flower-bedecked, stretched away
color-scented with lady-slippers, flaming orange lilies, fragrant
bergamot, roses and a hundred other blossoms. The drone of insects
heralded the growing grain and the haymaking.
I remember those days of haying in the valley. The smell of
the newly cut grass in which the odour of mint pervaded. The
cutting, raking and cocking were the work of many hands, followed
l>y)oading the rounded piles onto the hayrack and taking them
to where the stacks were built. This entailed double toil, but the
many hands made light work.
Food must be taken to the men for the noon meal. This
was the task assigned the younger members of the family. They
carried a bountiful supply of warm food and a jar of hot tea heavy work to be recompensed by permission to play by the river
for a time. And what fun to wade in the cool stream at the
crossing where they gathered clam shells, caught minnows, saw
turtles and heard the ripest black currants plop into the water. And
the berry-picking - saskatoons by the pailful, patches of strawberries, clumps of raspberry canes laden with fruit in quick
succession; later the cherries, wild plums and high-bush cranberries;
all to be made into delicious preserves, jam and jelly for the
winter store.
Going for the cows had its pleasures. Wandering along the
cool paths on wooded hillsides, one had leisure to study the devious
ways of plant and animal life. Then find the cows, drive them
home on the road at the foot of the hill, up the path leading
by the spring where every cow must have a drink before tackling
the steep pitch to reach the hilltop at the stable.
Then the milking, and straining into clean shining pans in
which the warm milk cooled, and the cream rose to the top. Next
day the cream skimmed from the top would be put into a crock to
sour before churning it into butter. What industryl
I remember the men coming home from the field in the late
evening - with their tired teams of horses - doing the endless
chores, having supper and going to bed early, for tomorrow would
bring its many tasks.
I remember Sunday, which seemed the brightest day of the
week, when we went to church at the school house and came
home to a quietness and peace that gave a sense of contentment.
Nor must I forget the Sunday visitors from far and near who arrived for supper and stayed late, exchanging gossip, news and ideas.
These contacts made life-long friends.
64
65
One remembers the picnics in some neighbour's poplar grove,
the long tables were laden with food of the very best. The afternoon of sports, foot races, jumping, games, entertained the crowd
until evening. These gatherings brought together the older people
who seldom met at any other time of the year. Now the day is
over, the chores are waiting, the horses are hitched with precipitation to buckboard or wagon to hasten the home going.
I remember Autumn. It stole upon us with a stealth that
caught us by surprise. The coolness of the days turning to cold
as the season advanced foretold the approach of winter and the
year's end. Goldenrod, purple asters, white daisies fringed the
roadsides and woodland borders. Yellow, purple and white toned
down the gayety of the summer show. The grain turned golden,
the vegetables in the gardens came to maturity, the leaves changed
to a hundred hues, ranging from dark brown and purple to the
palest yellow. What beauty!
As the
one end of
in deepest
and purple
days shortened, our valley, at sunset, lit up. Sometimes
the lake was brightest gold while the other end was
grey - almost black; over all the sky, yellow, red
added to the serenity of the twilit landscape.
I remember the call of the jays, the gathering of swallows
along the telephone wires, twittering as they alighted or rose in
flocks, the honk of geese passing over on their way south. I
remember pausing to hear the hum of the threshing machines, the
shrill whistles of a distant engine; in the night, listening to the
moaning of the wind and the patter of rain on the roof.
I watched in the darkness of early evening the flights of
birds, the flares of burning straw piles and stubble, the rising
smoke, and the deep sky studded with stars forming the winter
constellations.
I remember the harvest - cutting, stooking, stacking and
threshing in endless succession. While the men were employed in
the field the women and children gathered the vegetables and
stored them in the old earth cellars or root houses, and arranged
upon shelves row upon row preserves and pickles which were put
into every conceivable kind of container - old jugs, great earthenware crocks and bottles.
The business of threshing was the year's climax. There were
the horsedrawn, cumbersome, portable steam engines and separators,
large gangs of men - engineer, fireman, waterman, bandcutters,
those who drew in the loads of sheaves, those who fed the grain
into the feeder, bagged the grain, drew it to the granaries and
dumped it into bins. Think of the labour! But again many hands
and good company.
66
For the women, providing three substantial meals made a full
day's work - up at 4 A.M. to bed at 10 P.M. sometimes later.
Such peeling of vegetables, roasting of huge pieces of meat I have
never seen since; baking bread, buns, pies - to feed the ravenous
gang that had no coffee break, required skill and management.
I remember the rainy days when the men lay around having
nothing to do until the grain dried, the excursions from the East
that supplied workers to harvest the ever growing yield of grain in
Prairie Provinces.
The final preparations for freeze up followed closely upon the
completion of threshing - repairing buildings, hauling straw and
hay, getting fuel, setting up the box stoves and putting fresh
straw into the mattresses.
.
Soon followed the first snow, the lovely Indian Summer, the
passage of endless flocks of migrant birds which seemed to imbue
a spirit of resignation to the coming of winter.
I remember the hunting, the fowl suppers and the house-tohouse dances - the pioneers' most popular entertainment. There
was no limit to these parties: come early, stay late. The fiddles
never seemed to fag. When one dance was over the next was called
in quick succession. So, never a dull moment in the whole night's
fun.
I remember the pathos of the passing away in all seasons of
cherished members of the community. There is ever the reminder
of the shortness of life, but time has been quick to efface the toil and
loneliness of pioneer settlement.
THE FIRST CONCERT
I remember the first concert held in Huntly School. It was the
fall of 1888. I, a small child of some three years, three months,
have no recollection of going to the concert but do recall sitting
in the crowded, small schoolroom wedged between Mother, with her
baby on her knee, and Aunty Mern, whose clothes had always a
fragrance of cleanliness no one else's ever had. The women were
chatting, the children good, one sound asleep, the other wide
awake. The room was well lit by four coal oil bracket lamps
fastened to the side walls. The stage was set. A pair of curtains
hung in front of the platform served, by pulling them together to
conceal the stage between items.
Of the audience I remember but few, my mother, Aunty Mern,
three large men, the Lang boys, home for a visit, and Louis
Montroy and his pretty young bride the rest, a mob of
heads, seated on planks across and down the sides of the room.
67
The Langs had brought their small organ and other instruments all the way from the valley - a guitar and something
else I can't recall. They, a musical family that sang and played
well, contributed several items I remember:
When I was a student in Cadiz
I played on my Spanish Guitar,
Tra la,
I used to make love to the ladies,
I still think of them from afar,
Tra la - - - Then the Waitt brothers, Bruce, Louis and Victor acted their
humorous dialogue which brought the house down. What clapping!
Perhaps it was the big knife used to perform an operation to remove an umbrella from the abdomen of the patient that put the
fear into me and impressed this item on my memory.
Last, I remember a Pinkerton from across the valley playing
the organ and a group singing:
In this world I've gained my knowledge
And for it I've had to pay,
Tho' I never went to college,
Yet I've heard that poets say,
Life is like a mighty river
Flowing on from day to day,
Not a friend and not a shilling
Pulling hard against the stream.
So then do your best for one another.
Making life a pleasant dream,
Help a weary-worn brother
Pulling hard against the stream.
The small girl must have gone to sleep by this time, as
nothing more can be recalled. I would I could remember the chairman! Was it Mr. Stark?
cutter came to a halt Father got out, unhitched the horse, fastened
the reins to a. tree and proceeded to pull the cutter through the
snowbank.
In the meantime Mother placed me on top of the snowdrift while she carried Flora to where the cutter now waited the
horse to be rehitched. The howl I set up on being left was enough
to bring Mother hurrying back. I surely thought I was abandoned
to the weather and the wolves.
We got to our destination to find the Dacotah family at home
in the big house (later occupied by James Graham). He was a
sturdy Metis. with a wife and seven daughters. I ~e~ember the
warmth of the hospitality accorded the unexpected VISItors. Of the
trip home I remember nothing at all.
TO THE GOSSELINS
There was no snow, or very little, the winter of 1889, the
year of the total eclipse of the sun on New Year's Day; consequently there was no difficulty on a January day to reach Mlch~el
Gosselin's house snuggled in the shelter of the bank of the Pembma
Valley near the foot of Lake Louise, a small log house plastered
with brownish mud to make it winter-proof.
The whole family was taken along. The going and returning
to and from the Gosselins was uneventful, but what did register
was that the Metis were still celebrating the advent of the New
Year.
There was quite a gathering of relatives who had ample good
cheer on hand to keep up the holiday spirit, especially that of
Eustache. After the adults had dined the young folks and small
children were seated on benches along the sides of the table. It
was a cheerful meal, the older boys making sure that the small
visitors were well looked after.
THE DACOTAHS
Shortly after moving to the new home on the bank of Lome
Lake, I remember being taken along with Flora when Father and
Mother went to Joe Dacotah's. What prompted the long drive on
a cold January day with snow piled in great banks and no road to
speak of I would not know.
By this time Eustache had reached the stage of intoxication
wherein he thought to entertain the company with the best of his
Indian tradition, songs and dances. When he lifted the cellar door,
seated himself at the very, very edge and pointed with great vigour
his forefinger into the cellar, sang a hair-raising dirge, it. surely put
the fear into the small visitors. The only assurance whIch allayed
panic was the casual indifference of the wives, who paid no attention to the performer and the quiet, unconcern of my mother as
she conversed in French with the women.
We set out in the one~horse cutter, the runners crunching
over the frosty ground, the going tough. Finally the horse got
below its depth in a drift and was floundering helplessly. The
I remember my father baq~aining to buy Willie's pony, and
Willie weeping in protest at parting with his pet. The deal called
off, the owner mollified. we went home.
68
69
Neighbourly Calls
By The Way
THE LOST CHILD
Daylight comes early on a June morning. The occupants of the
log house are up with the sun in order to accomplish all that
requires doing on the farm.
First the milking. Father went out with the pails while Mother
roused eight-year-old May to look after the baby, a lively, whitehaired, dark-eyed child of nine months - already walking. Grandfather, too, was up, and as usual, busy with the other chores feeding the horses and pigs and cleaning out the stables.
All finished outdoors, back to the house to strain the milk
into the shining pans, and to set them in the cool milk-house
where the cream would rise, then preparing breakfast and everyone
ready for the meal.
The children, May, Mackie and Flora, were wakened, washed
and dressed. But where was the baby! There was a little disconcerted questioning, for May had fallen asleep and knew nothing
about her charge. The search began all over the house, round the
yard, about the stables. Grandfather, who appeared on the scene,
knew "that Betsy Maxwell!" (the most mischievous of the mischievous) "had come the half mile and taken the baby to play a
prank!"
On the suggestion, Father at once set out for Aunt Mary's.
In a short time he returned carrying a very dirty, small girl. The
dust and the dew had done their worst as the tiny traveller crept
along the grassy road all on her own, and had almost reached her
destination.
Betsy was exonerated. It was evident that while May slept
the wide-awake wee one managing to get out of bed and seeing
the wide open door, undertook a little morning outing. Father
always maintained so smart a child knew where she was going;
Mother thought otherwise.
THE MOST UNFORGETTABLE MISHAP:
Bill Daniels had a big, old horse and a buckboard, the type
with a long open part behind the seat. This means of conveyance
enabled him to get around with comparative comfort as his energy
wore down with the passing years.
One spring day he was driving south of Huntly School just
after the classes had been dismissed, and the usual crowd of children was on the way home. Somervilles, McLennans, Cummings
and others had set out on the long walk to their respective
abodes. To get a ride was rare and a chance of one not to be
passed up if it came. Mr. Daniels stopped to pick up those who
70
were going his way. It was quite a load, Ferguson, Geordie and
Louis in the front, Jemima and Betsy on the back. They h~d not
gone far when Betsy realized that her dress was caught m the
wheel and was gradually being wound round the axl,;. Fearf~lly
she called "Old Billy, my dress is caught in the wheel! Old. BIlly,
vexed beyond words, exclaimed, "You silly little fool, w~at dId yo.u
do that fort" He was Irish and short-tempered. Takmg out ~IS
jackknife, he opened the large blade and cut off the offendmg
piece of skirt.
.
Betsy's new, print dress! Grandma ~ad sent the nIce. navy
blue length with the white rings on It from Lancaster.' and
Mother had made the adorable mother hubbard, and here It was
completely spoiled. What was worse, here were Ferguson James (the
author) and the others, but especially .Ferguson, who could see ~er
petticoat. What humiliation! The pett1co~t was .a good substantIal
drugget one, but that did not matter. It dId not m the least console
Betsy's grief. How could s~e ever go home, and how could she
ever again look Ferguson m the face?
Well she lived to tell this little tale of woe many, many years
later to ~ group of aged schoolmates who enjoyed to the full
Betsy's most unforgettable mishap.
FAREWELL TO THE OLD IRON HORSE
Read in the House of Commons, October, 1969.
Farewell to the old iron horse
They opened up a continent,
They brought the settlers in
They colonized a nation
With every kith and kin.
They did a yeoman service,
Their laurels they have won,
Now the giants of the frontier
Have made their final run.
We miss their belching smoke stacks,
And their whistles moan and scream,
We miss the throbbing pistons,
And the hissing clouds of steam.
But their days were surely numbered,
They have vanished one by one,
And the grand old railroad steamers
Have made their final run.
The water tank stands empty,
Along the right of way,
The round house is forsaken,
Where the monsters used to stay.
The coal docks are a memory,
Their days oE service done;
71
Since the big steam locomotives
Have made their final run.
A sleek new shining diesel
Came down the line today.
And it makes you kind of wonder
Are these units here to stay
With progress pressing onward,
And their era just begun
As history keeps repeating
Will they make their final run?
As we gaze into the future
Of a hundred years or more
What scientific marvels
This old world may have in store.
A weird fantastic monster
Getting power from the sun,
With ten million pounds of payload,
May be on their daily run.
Ferguson James.
N.B. The author, of Hanna, Alberta, formerly of the Huntly District, Manitoba.
THE PRAIRIE CHICKEN DANCE:
A typical spring morning in April 1905, misty, calm, mellow,
with the very feeling of everything bursting into life, - found me
on my way to school after a week-end at home.
Father, smoking his pipe as usual, drove old Tom leisurely
along in spite of my urging that we make- better time. To me
there is nothing like being on time; maybe I have always been a
little on the side of too much in a hurry.
We had almost reached the corner where one turns south on
the Neelin road. On the left hand was a grassy knoll where once
a house had stood, and there in a flock were the prairie chickens,
a goodly number, engaged in their spring dance. They were chortling, nodding, running, frisking backward and forward, turning
and circling this way and that. One could almost imagine a caller
directing a quadrille: "All to the centre and back, honour your
partner, allemande left, all swing out."
What a dance! The modern square, so much in vogue, had
nothing on that of the prairie chickens. It conveyed a feeling of
joy at the advent of spring and a buoyancy of spirits that sensed
pleasure and fun in the performance.
I was ready to stop, to watch indefinitely. Father, of another
mind, continued the leisurely ride. Be on time. Let the chickens
finish their dance unmolested by spectators.
What one sometimes misses!
72
BERRY PICKING
Raspberry season c:ame al()ng with a bountiful crop of delicious
fruit. On the slope from the south bank of the valley to the
Pembina on land that had been cleared of timber and burned off
- later the Bramwell fartn - were acres of cane loaded with ripe
berries in almost inex:haustible supply. People from far and near
came to pick day after day.
Mother, too, took time off and with three helpers set out on a
warm sunny day in the old buckboard to which was hitched
Nellie, a strong mare of a restive disposition. Tena McLennan was
picked up on the way, and in due time the pickers arrived in the
berry patch to find a number of people on the same errand as
they.
The abundance of fruit was so enticing that it was not until
evening, with our pails full, that we prepared to leave for home.
Think of our concern on returning wearily, to where the
buggy and horse were left to find that Nellie had broken her
halter shank and was gone. Some one from Glendenning loaded our
berries and us into his wagon, tied the buckboard behind to take
us to the Gosselins from where, Mother felt sure, we would be
looked after the rest of the way.
I remember climbing the steep hill in front of Mrs. Gosselin's
house. I remember the little old woman sitting on a stump in
front of the house smoking her clay pipe. Mother explained our
dilemma. A peremptory order to Johnnie Bell had, in no time,
a horse hitched to the buckboard. In short order we were back
home safe and sound. Johnnie, our cheerful driver, returned horseback to report to his grandmother that all was well.
Nellie, evidently, tired of long delay, heat and flies, took
things into her own hands and was safely in her stall by the time
the berry pickers arrived.
THESE WERE THE DAYS:
Mary was married young. She had a good husband, a big new
house, and looked' forward, on her wedding day, to leisure time a time for real living. Five years had passed. There were three
bonnie little daughters to bless her home, and now the fourth
child was expected.
It was the sec:ond of May. The men were busy seeding, and
Mary, ever attentive to her share of the chores, bethought herself
of the turkey-hen that had stolen off into the pasture to nest
among the willows. After breakfast had been cleared away and
the dishes washed, she must take a walk through the woods to find
the hidden nest. Those eggs were mighty important in the scheme
of things.
73
By the time she got back to the house she felt tha t other
matters were developing quickly, so she had better do the washing.
There was no power washer as yet, but she bravely set to work
and in due time the clothes were on the line. Upstairs she went to
put her bed in order. This she did but could not come down again.
The listener, just here, interrupted to ask if there was no one
on hand to call the doctor.
Yes, Alex's mother was to take over the case; she was within
reach and soon got on the telephone. The doctor was out of town
but would be contacted at the earliest possible. The belated physician arrived too late to be of assistance in bringing Mary's young
son into the world. He, like others, had to contend with the element
of mischance as he explained later. This is how it happened:
He had gone to Baldur in his new Ford with the intention
of returning home in record time. The car on the heed of the
urgent call refused to start. Finally he persuaded Ernie Sexsmith
to take him back to Belmont to get his black bag, an absolute
requisite on a mission such as this. On entering the office, here
was Tommy Somerville w!!-iting to have an aching tooth pulled.
To do so entailed a little delay; the tooth-pulling would have to
be postponed, so said the belated doctor as he set off with all
speed, horse and buggy, to cover the twelve miles to his patient.
How Tommy's tooth fared I do not know, except that he
enjoyed many peaceful years after this episode. The small son grew
to manhood, took over the farm and raised his family where he
was born. The faithful doctor continued to devote his services
to a community which, on his retirement, duly acknowledged its
appreciation of his contribution to the welfare of all.
The mother related this little happening after she had reached
beyond the three score years and ten - looking back, enjoying
once more the grim humour of what might have been a serious
matter.
they set up as merchant seamen, establishing a busines~ which
in time became a prosperous venture. Robert, the sea captam, went
back and forth to Scotland carrying exchangeable merchandise.
On his voyages, Robert met Jean McPherson, whom he
married bringing her back to make a home in his adopted country.
Before the birth of their child, it was decided that she should
return to the parental roof, so on her husband's next voyage she
went back to Scotland to stay with her people for an indefinite
visit. On the return trip, Robert's ship was evidently lost at
sea; nothing was ever learned of him - the sad fate of many a
worthy captain· and crew in the day of sailing vessels.
Jean's baby boy was born during the period of great depression in the British Isles. Time obliterates many details, but history
relates the tragedy of the years between 1780 and 1820. However,
this young man was educated to be a school master, living first
in Campbellton and later in Inverrary in sight of Castle Argyle.
About the turn of the century he married Janet McCuaig and in due
time had a family of five sons and two daughters. The oldest son,
my grandfather, used to say he was born in the year "two" 1802. Times were hard, to make a living difficult, unemployment
widespread. One heard the old folks say how precious to find a
piece of driftwood was to supplement the meagre supply of fuel.
In 1830, John Cumming decided that migration to Canada
would be the solution to the problem of establishing his sons in
a securer way of life; consequently the spring of 1831 found them
ready for the voyage to Montreal.
The party consisted of the immediate members of the family,
Flora Hamilton, wife of John (junior), their two small daughters,
Betty and Myzie, also Douglas McCuaig, wife of Alexander. The
Hamiltons had come to bid their daughter farewell. Just as the
ship was about to sail Mrs. Hamilton said, "Leave Betty with us
and we will take her to Canada next year". The father handed
the little girl to her grandmother; but not until 1845, after the
grandmother's death, was she brought to her parents in Canada.
A BIT MORE OF FAMILY HISTORY
The Way of The Pioneer
The 1745 contest between Stuart and Hanoverian for the
throne of Britian brought dire results for the losers. Bonnie Prince
Charlie, "Noo awa", left his followers after the Battle of Culloden
Moor, April 16, 1746, to face the consequences of defeat. The
Cumming Clan had given its full support to the Stuart cause.
When reprisals were meted out, its head, with many others of
the highland forces, was banished from Scotland.
The Thirteen Colonies was a haven for these refugees; and
about 1750 three Cumming brothers settled in Philadelphia, where
After a trying sea voyage of seven weeks devoid of any comfort, a journey by boat up the Chateauguay River, a walk of
several miles through the forest, the Cummings and many more
immigrants, were on land allocated them thirty-two miles south of
Montreal. It was virgin land, much of it burned over by the great
fire of 1825, much of it swampy and stony rendering it useless
for agriculture. There were few roads, no drainage and little cleared
of timber. It was a case of inexperienced people beginning from
very scratch.
74
75
Money was scarce and means of earning any were remote.
The making of potash from the ashes of the burned timber was
the most remunerative source of income, a slow labourious process.
Food was scarce; Janet Cumming and her son, Duncan, walked
nine miles to buy a bushel of peas, each taking turns carrying the
bag over their backs.
Shortly after arriving in the settlement near Ormstown, the
father took ill. His daughter Betty and a friend walked from
Montreal to visit him, bringing a blue glass bowl of apple jelly.
Many years later the bowl was the cherished souvenir in the home
of the granddaughter Betty in Yale, Michigan.
These people brought with them their traditions and mode
of life. Stern, resolute, industrious, they soon established homes,
schools and churches. They loved the skirl of the pipes and met on
occasion to dance the Highland reels to the tunes played by the
incomparable piper, Robert McCuaig.
Robert McCuaig was a recruit in the English army during
the Napoleonic Wars. Once he deserted, was caught and fearfully
punished. He piped the Highlanders into the Battle of Waterloo,
and shortly afterwards deserted again. This time he was able to
evade the authorities and migrated to Canada. I remember the
old folks telling about Aunt Mary Maxwell's wedding. As the procession came up the concession road, the piper leading, the bride's
two young brothers ran across the pasture to watch the party
coming. They declared that even the cattle romped and played to
the music. He had a beautiful set of pipes, silver mounted, which
are still extant - in the possession of a McDonald family in
Glengarry.
Fifty years passed. The genteel, lovable grandmother must
now part with a member of her family - pioneer to the western
prairies. When Will Cumming was setting out for Manitoba, she
remarked: "It is fifty years since I first walked down this Fifth
Concession road."
Many changes have taken place in the succeeding half century; sons of the pioneers to Manitoba pioneered in Saskatchewan
and Alberta. One can not but say as the hymn:
Time like an ever rolling stream
Bears all its sons away.
OLD QUEBEC FAMILIES
As it happens, Ii ttle is lmown of the Moreaux, Mother's paternal ancestors. They were early comers to Canada - one at least a
courier de bois - and in th e late 1700's were living south of
Montreal in the Chateauguay Basin. On her maternal side something of the St. Louis has been gleaned from the records of time.
The St. Louis were early settlers in New France and acquired
a seigniory not far from Quebec, as was customary for the Gentry
to do. After the conquest they remained in Canada and in the
course of events a Fraser Highlander, one of Wolfe's soldiers named
Menny, married a French woman; their daughter married a St.
Louis. This mixing of French and Scottish blood was disapproved
of by the respective families.
However, this St. Louis, as all the seigniors, spent considerable
time and money gambling. It seems that as a last resort he staked
his land-holding and lost. He protested to the courts. The judge
announced at the hearing that he must have been either drunk or
a fool. The proud old gentleman protested he. was neither; t~e
judge had no other alternative but to declare hIS property forfeIt
to the winner of the stakes.
Mr. St. Louis then moved south of Montreal acquiring a lease
on a seigniory held by the Grey Nuns. Here he brought up his
family, Levi, Rosalea and Delphine. Rosalea married Guideon
Moreau, a tall, handsome young man who lived across the road.
They had five children, three sons and two daughters. The elder
daughter married John Cumming.
Mother remembered her grandfather and grandmother St.
Louis, who lived to a good old age. One day grandfather took the
small girl's hand and said, "You are going to marry a tall, fair
man and go far away". This she did, coming to settle in the
Rock Lake district in the fall of 1880.
Today (1969) there is the fourth generation of St. Louis
living in the great brick house on the old farm near Ormstown,
P.Q. The whole area is intens.ively farmed. Much dairying supplies
Montreal with milk and cream. picked up every morning by great
trucks. The whole countryside is electrified, and every modern
convenience is made use of. A great change from the coming of
the pioneer into a region of swamp, rock and forest with no
means of communication exc,ept the river, a tributary to the St.
Lawrence.
Note: In 1969, Malcolm Cumming, ninety-three, youngest son
of Duncan Cumming born 1812, was living in Calgary, Alberta,
a span of one hundred and fifty-seven years, across the two generations.
Note: Sending a letter to Scotland, for a time, cost three
dollars. This taken from book written by the Editor of the Gleaner,
Robert Sellers, Ormstown, P.Q.
76
17
NEELIN
The village of Neelin had its beginning with the build.ing of
a branch line of the C.N.R. from Greenway to Wakopa m the
summer of 1904. The townsite was located on the farm of Joseph
N eelin - hence the name.
In the fall of the year the station was built and Roseberry
School moved from its original site on the prairie to a north lot
in the newly surveyed town. This building, somewhat wrecked ~y
the moving, with a few repairs, served for a numbt;r of years. m
the capacity of a hall as well as a classroom. CarolIne Cummmg
was the first teacher in the village.
In the spring of 1905, Mr. William Huddlestone (a section
foreman) and family were the first residents of the new village.
George Way and Harry Bolton of Cartw~ight built. ~ small ge~eral
store and began business. At the same tIme a petItIOn was c~rc~­
lated to have Moropano Post Office moved from John Cummmg s
to the village, and named Neelin. This was appro:red of by the
whole community, and James Graham became the fIrst postmaster
with his daughter, Jean, as assistant.
The grain elevator and Andrew Easton's implement shed were
built both of which he operated while still living on the farm.
He, ~ few years later, moved into town where he resided until
his death in February, 1948.
By 1914 the village had grown considerably. Mr. J. Laughlin
of Cartwright opened a bank and built a home on the lot west
of the school; the Henwoods a boarding house; the Grahams a
combined butcher shop and confectionery store; and in 1914 on
the site of the old, a fine brick school was erected. Mrs. Dalzel
occupied a neat little cottage across the street. east of Rob~rt
Fisher's blacksmith shop. Indeed, it was now qUIte a commumty
centre serving a number of districts: Huntly, North Derby, Lorne
and of course included the former Roseberry. The school accommodated some thirty-six pupils from grade one to grade nine. Business
thrived.
Trains ran three times a week - west, Monday, Wednesday
and Friday afternoons, east on the alternate days in the morning;
a service slow but regular. In fall and early winter cars of grain
and stock were shipped every week. Any day, a dozen or more
teams were at the loading platform, neighbours hauling out someone's grain, as soon as the box cars were available to each successive applicant. Smaller quantities of grain were sold directly to the
elevator. In the meantime a second elevator was built; the former
became the Pool Elevator.
78
In 1909 telephones in the homes of the rural district were
installed. It was a step forward in communication to be linked up
with towns where places of business could be contacted, and with
neighbours for either a social chat or discussion of more serious
matters.
By 1921 there was need for a high school to accommodate
the increasing numbers of pupils planning professional careers.
The bank building had been vacated and was now turned into a
classroom for grades nine to eleven with Florence Warriner of
Miami as the first teacher. Outstanding graduates of this small
school are many: Dr. Easton of Selkirk, Eleanor Fisher, Barney
and Bill Bolton, school principals; Gordon and Lloyd Henwood;
Hugh and Grant McKay, both veterans of World War II, who
served their country so well. Yes, and many more, were there space
to name them.
In February, 1946, Rural Electrification, a government project,
brought all the facilities afforded by electricity to the Village. In
1949 this service was extended to include every farm home. This
surely was a worthwhile achievement.
In 1950 the town built a very fine curling rink, which added
greatly to the interest of old and young in local sport. The onceupon-a-time good baseball team was succeeded by equally good
curlers.
In July, 1936, the United Church was dedicated and in 1961
the twenty-fifth anniversary was observed with special services
attended by many old-timers. The Anglicans, in the meantime,
acquired the property of the former high school, remodelled the
building and had their dedication service November, 1951.
In 1950 the brick school burned and was replaced by a tworoomed one, the high school occupying one room. This arrangement was of short duration, for on reorganization of school areas,
1960, the school became once more one-roomed; all the senior
pupils were transferred by bus to either Cartwright or Killarney.
The C.N.R. in 1961 discontinued its run west of Neelin, having
that section of the track taken up. What effect the change will
have remains to be seen.
During the half century, and more, the business places have
changed hands. Bolton and Way's store was bought by Andy Embury of Baldur. A few years later Mr. Aikenhead took over the business, operating for quite a time. Ben Brown bought him out and
later sold to Mr. Polson.
When Mr. Bolton retired as postmaster in 1945 Hugh McKay
took over until he moved to Cartwright in 1953 and was succeeded
by H. Winram, son of a Pilot Mound pioneer and a veteran of
79
Hong Kong. So it was with other businesses, coming and going of
people, many of whom in their own way contributed to the betterment of the community.
Changes take place that reverse conditions, and there would
seem to be the possibility that this small village will settle into
the state of quiet middle-age - a quiet, wayside place, its energy
spent, a thing of the past.
Frank Neelin reviewed pioneer days, naming the early settlers.
The Reverend D. A. Brooks of Killarney, the guest speaker, read
Hebrews 11: "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the
evidence of things not seen -". He developed the thought that
the God that lives within is a living God.
Those present will be looking forward to another reunion,
1970, Manitoba's Centennial Year.
Note: Sunday, August 23, 1970 Neelin celebrates Manitoba's Centennial.
Conclusion
Centennial year, 1967, found many a former thriving village
but a ghost town. Changes have taken place so quickly. Branch
railway lines have ceased to operate due to increased bus and
transport service on good roads and highways. Rural and village
schools have been closed. The larger units have made it imperative to transfer students to the schools provided for their accommo~
dation in the larger centres. The many-acred farms have decreased
the rural population.
Neelin is a mere hamlet. Many of the former residents have
moved away, business places have closed, and the school was integrated into the larger unit, June 1968, as was Huntly. One train a
week suffices to carry the freight required for the few businesses
and the district, and that service may be discontinued in the near
future.
Whatever changes, it is the people who count. One finds them
energetic, keeping abreast with the times, as demonstrated by the
well-organized and appropria te Centennial Year observance, Sunday, August 20, 1967 - A Centennial Inter-Faith Service.
Former residents and friends were notified, the rink made
ready to provide .space for them all; speakers were arranged for,
and a choir presided; and preparations were made to serve a social
lunch at the conclusion of the programme.
Some two hundred and fifty persons signed the guest book.
These included many old-timers, many not so old, residents and
non-residents from neighbouring districts. Here friend met former
friends - a handshake, a word of greeting bridged the gap of time
and brought back many memories of the long ago: memories of
the toilers who passed along without compensation commensurate
with the work accomplished, memories of those one had hoped to
see who were unable to be present.
80
81