Читать книгу The Canadian Portrait Gallery - Volume 3 (of 4) - Dent John Charles - Страница 7

Not often does it fall to the lot of the biographer to chronicle a more singular piece of history than is afforded by the life of the founder of the Talbot Settlement in Western Canada. A contemporary writer has proved to us that Ireland has, at one time and another, contributed her full share of notable personages to our population; and Colonel Talbot is certainly entitled to rank among the most remarkable of them all. A man of high birth and social position, of good abilities, with a decided natural turn for an active military career, and with excellent prospects of success before him, he voluntarily forsook the influences under which he had been reared, and spent by far the greater part of a long life in the solitude of the Canadian wilderness. He was the early associate and life-long friend of the illustrious Duke of Wellington. At the outset of their careers, any impartial friend of the two youths might not unreasonably have predicted a higher and wider fame for the scion of the House of Talbot than for Arthur Wellesley; for the former was the brighter, and apparently the more ambitious of the two, and his connections were at least equally influential. Had any one indulged in such a vaticination, however, his prediction would have been most ignominiously falsified by subsequent events. Arthur Wellesley lived to achieve a reputation second to that of scarcely any name in history. He became the most famous and successful military commander of modern times. Nations vied with each other in heaping well-deserved honours upon his head, and his Sovereign characterized him as "the greatest general England ever saw." Statesmen and princes hung upon his words, and even upon his nod; and lovely women languished for his smiles. When he died, full of years and honours, and everything of good which a grateful nation has to bestow, his body lay in state at Chelsea Hospital. It was visited by the high and mighty ones of the Empire, and was contemplated with an almost superstitious awe. It was finally borne with regal pomp, through streets draped in mourning, and thronged by a countless multitude, to its final resting-place in the crypt of the noblest of English cathedrals. The funeral rites were solemnized amid the tears of a nation, and formed an event in that nation's history. The obsequies of "the Iron Duke" took place on the 18th of November, 1852. In less than three months from that date his friend Colonel Talbot also went the way of all flesh. But by how different a road! His life, though it had by no means been spent in vain, had had little to commend it to the emulation or envy of mankind. Its most vigorous season had been passed amid the solitude of the Canadian forest, and in its decline it had become the prey of selfishness and neglect. Colonel Talbot died in a small room in the house of a man who had once been his servant. He must have tasted the bitterness of death many times before he finally entered into his rest. Neither wife, child, nor relative ministered to his wants. But scant ceremony was vouchsafed to his remains. His body, instead of lying in state, was deposited in a barn, and was finally attended to its last obscure resting-place in a little Canadian village by a handful of friends and acquaintances. The weather was piercingly cold, and we may be sure that the obsequies were not unnecessarily prolonged. Surely the force of antithesis could not much farther go!

And yet, as we review the widely diverse careers of these two remarkable men, it is difficult to arrive at any other conclusion than that the result in each case was the legitimate outgrowth of their respective qualities. Arthur Wellesley, in his earliest boyhood, formed a definite purpose in life; and that purpose, during all the years of his probation, was kept constantly in view. Every other passion was kept in due subordination to it. Fortune was kind to him, and he well knew how to avail himself of her favours. The acquisition of fame, moreover, bears some analogy to the acquisition of wealth. The first step is by far the most difficult. Dr. Johnson once said that any man of strong will has it in his power to make a fortune, if he can only contrive to tide over the time while he is scraping together the first hundred pounds. Arthur Wellesley, having got his foot firmly on the first rung of the ladder, found the rest of the ascent feasible enough. Now, Thomas Talbot was endowed by nature with a will so strong as almost to deserve the name of stubbornness, but that was almost the only quality which he shared in common with his friend. If he ever formed any definite scheme of life he was certainly very inconsistent in pursuing it. His moods were as erratic as were those of the hero of Locksley Hall. He was unable to bring his mind into harmony with the inevitable, and knew not how to subordinate himself to the existing order of things. Even as an army-officer he was not always amenable to discipline. The follies and frivolities of society disgusted him, and his mind early received a warp from which it never recovered. He lived in a time when there was plenty of work ready to his hand, if he would but have condescended to take his share of it. The work, however, was not to his taste, and his ambition seems to have deserted him at a most inopportune time. He "burst all links of habit," withdrew himself from his proper place in the world, and passed the rest of his days in solitude and obscurity. As the founder of an important settlement in a new Province, he certainly accomplished some good in his day and generation. The enterprise, however, does not seem to have been undertaken with any definite design of accomplishing good, but merely with a view to securing a more congenial mode of life for himself. That a man reared as he had been should find anything congenial in such a life is a problem which is insoluble to ordinary humanity.

The family from which he sprang has long been celebrated both in English and continental history. Readers of Shakespeare's historical plays are, it is to be hoped, sufficiently familiar with that "scourge of France" who was defied by Joan of Arc, and who, with his son, John Talbot, fell bravely fighting his country's battles on the field of Castillon, near Bordeaux. It would be difficult for a man to sustain the burden of a long line of such ancestors as these. It is therefore reassuring to learn that the Talbot line has been diversified by representatives of another sort. Readers of Macaulay's History are familiar with the name of Richard Talbot, that noted sharper, bully, pimp and pander, who haunted Whitehall during the years immediately succeeding the Restoration; whose genius for mendacity procured for him the nickname of "Lying Dick Talbot;" who became the husband of Frances Jennings; who slandered Anne Hyde for the money of the Duke of York; who, in a word, was one of the greatest scoundrels that figured in those iniquitous times; and who was subsequently raised by James II. to the Earldom of Tyrconnel. "Lying Dick" was a member of the Irish branch of the Talbot family, which settled in Ireland during the reign of Henry II., and became possessed of the ancient baronial castle of Malahide, in the county of Dublin. The Talbots of Malahide trace their descent from the same stock as the Talbots who have been Earls of Shrewsbury, in the peerage of Great Britain, since the middle of the fifteenth century. The father of the subject of this sketch was Richard Talbot, of Malahide. His mother was Margaret, Baroness Talbot; and he himself was born at Malahide on the 17th of July, 1771.

All that can be ascertained about his childhood is that he spent some years at the Public Free School at Manchester, and that he received a commission in the army in the year 1782, when he was only eleven years of age. Whether or not he left school immediately after obtaining this commission does not appear, but his education must have been very imperfect, as he was not of a studious disposition, and in 1786, when he was only sixteen, we find him installed as an aide-de-camp to his relative the Marquis of Buckingham, who was then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. His brother aide was the Arthur Wellesley already referred to. The two boys were necessarily thrown much together, and each of them formed a warm attachment for the other. Their future paths in life lay far apart, but they never ceased to correspond, and to recall the happy time they had spent together,

“Yearning for the large excitement that

the coming years would yield.”

Young Talbot continued in the position of aide-de-camp for several years. In 1790 he joined the 24th Regiment, which was then stationed at Quebec, in the capacity of Lieutenant. We have no record of his life during the next few months. Upon the arrival of Lieutenant-Governor Simcoe at Quebec, at the end of May, 1792, Lieutenant Talbot, who had nearly completed his twenty-first year, became attached to the Governor's suite in the capacity of private secretary. He continued to form part of the establishment of Upper Canada's first Lieutenant-Governor until just before the latter's removal from this country. "During that period," says General Simcoe, writing in 1803, "he not only conducted many details and important duties incidental to the original establishment of a colony, in matters of internal regulation, to my entire satisfaction, but was employed in the most confidential measures necessary to preserve the country in peace, without violating, on the one hand, the relations of amity with the United States; and on the other, alienating the affection of the Indian nations, at that period in open war with them. In this very critical situation, I principally made use of Mr. Talbot for the most confidential intercourse with the several Indian Tribes; and occasionally with his Majesty's Minister at Philadelphia; and these duties, without any salary or emolument, he executed to my perfect satisfaction."

It seems to have been during his tenure of office as secretary to Governor Simcoe that the idea of embracing a pioneer's life in Canada first took possession of young Talbot's mind. It has been alleged that his imagination was fired by reading a translation of part of Charlevoix's "Historie Générale de la Nouvelle France," a work which describes the writer's own experiences in the wilds of Canada in a pleasant and easy fashion. This idea is probably attributable to an assertion made by Colonel Talbot himself to Mrs. Jameson, when that lady visited him during her brief sojourn in Upper Canada. "Charlevoix," said he, "was, I believe, the true cause of my coming to this place. You know he calls this the Paradise of the Hurons. Now I was resolved to get to Paradise by hook or by crook, and so I came here." It is much more probable, however, that he was influenced by his own experiences in the Canadian forest, which for him would possess all the charm of novelty, in addition to its natural beauties. He accompanied the Lieutenant-Governor hither and thither, and traversed in his company the greater part of what then constituted Upper Canada. He formed a somewhat intimate acquaintance with the Honourable William Osgoode, the first Chief Justice of this Province, who was for some time an inmate of Governor Simcoe's abode at Niagara — or Newark, as it was then generally called. The Chief Justice felt the isolation of his position very keenly, and was doubtless glad to relax his mind by communion with the young Irish lieutenant, who possessed no inconsiderable share of the humour characteristic of his nationality, and could make himself a boon companion. At this time there would seem to have been nothing of the misanthrope about Lieutenant Talbot. He seemed to take fully as much enjoyment out of life as his circumstances admitted of. His constitution was robust, and his disposition cheerful. He was prim, and indeed fastidious about his personal appearance, and was keenly alive to everything that was going on about him. He was popular among all the members of the household, and was the especial friend of Major Littlehales, the adjutant and general secretary, whose name is familiar to most persons who take an interest in the history of the early settlement of this Province.

On the 4th of February, 1793, an expedition which was destined to have an important bearing upon the future life of Lieutenant Talbot, as well as upon the future history of the Province, set out from Navy Hall1 to explore the pathless wilds of Upper Canada. It consisted of Lieutenant-Governor Simcoe himself and several of his officers, among whom were Major Littlehales and the subject of the present sketch. The Major kept a diary during the journey, which was given to the world more than forty years afterwards in the Canadian Literary Magazine, a periodical of which several numbers were published in Toronto in 1834. The expedition occupied five weeks, and extended as far as Detroit. The route lay through Mohawk village, on the Grand River, where the party were entertained by Joseph Brant; thence westward to where Woodstock now stands; and so on by a somewhat devious course to Detroit, the greater part of the journey being necessarily made on foot. On the return journey the party camped on the present site of London, which Governor Simcoe then pronounced to be an admirable position for the future capital of the Province. One important result of this long and toilsome journey was the construction of Dundas Street, or, as it is frequently called, "the Governor's Road." The whole party were delighted with the wild and primitive aspect of the country through which they passed, but not one of them manifested such enthusiasm as young Lieutenant Talbot, who expressed a strong desire to explore the land farther to the south, bordering on Lake Erie. His desire was gratified in the course of the following autumn, when Governor Simcoe indulged himself and several members of his suite with another western excursion. During this journey the party encamped on the present site of Port Talbot, which the young Lieutenant declared to be the loveliest situation for a dwelling he had ever seen. "Here," said he, "will I roost, and will soon make the forest tremble under the wings of the flock I will invite by my warblings around me." Whether he was serious in this declaration at the time may be doubted; but, as will presently be seen, he ultimately kept his word.

In 1793 young Talbot received his majority. In 1796 he became Lieutenant-Colonel of the Fifth Regiment of Foot. He returned to Europe, and joined his regiment, which was despatched on active service to the Continent. He himself was busily employed during this period, and was for some time in command of two battalions. Upon the conclusion of the Peace of Amiens, on the 27th of March, 1802, he sold his commission, retired from the service, and prepared to carry out the intention expressed by him to Governor Simcoe nine years before, of pitching his tent in the wilds of Canada. Why he adopted this course it is impossible to do more than conjecture. He never married, but remained a bachelor to the end of his days. One writer ventures the hypothesis that he had been crossed in love. The only justification, so far as we are aware, for this hypothesis, is a half jocular expression of the Colonel's some years afterwards. A friend having bantered him on the subject of his remaining so long in a state of single blessedness, took an opportunity of questioning him about it, and in the course of a familiar chat, asked him why he remained so long single, when he stood so much in need of a help-mate. "Why," said the Colonel, "to tell you the truth, I never saw but one woman that I really cared anything about, and she would'nt have me; and to use an old joke, those who would have me, the devil would'nt have them. Miss Johnston," continued the Colonel, "the daughter of Sir J. Johnston, was the only girl I ever loved, and she wouldn't have me."

Whatever cause may have impelled him, it is sufficiently evident that he had become out of sorts with society, and had resolved to betake himself to a distance from the haunts of civilized mankind. Aided by the influence of ex-Governor Simcoe and other powerful friends, he obtained a grant of five thousand acres of land as a Field Officer meaning to reside in the Province, and to permanently establish himself there. The land was situated in the southern part of the Upper Canadian peninsula, bordering on Lake Erie, and included the site of what afterwards became Port Talbot. This, however, was only a portion of the advantage derivable from the grant. In addition to the tract so conferred upon him he obtained a preëmptive or proprietary right over an immense territory including about half a million acres, and comprising twenty-eight of the adjacent townships.2 For every settler placed by the Colonel on fifty acres of this land, he was entitled to a patent of a hundred and fifty additional acres for himself. He thus obtained practical control of an expanse of territory which, as has been said, was "a principality in extent." Armed with these formidable powers he once more crossed the Atlantic, and made his way to the present site of Port Talbot, which had so hugely attracted his fancy during his tour with Governor Simcoe. He reached the spot on the 21st of May, 1803, and immediately set to work with his axe, and cut down the first tree, to commemorate his landing to take possession of his woodland estate. The settlement which subsequently bore his name was then an unbroken forest, and there were no traces of civilization nearer than Long Point, sixty miles to the eastward, while to the westward the aborigines were still the lords of the soil, and rules with the tomahawk. In this sequestered region Colonel Talbot took up his abode, and literally made for himself "a local habitation and a name."

At the time of his arrival he was accompanied by two or three stalwart settlers who had crossed the Atlantic under his auspices, and with their assistance he was not long in erecting an abode which was thenceforward known as Castle Malahide. It was built on a high cliff overhanging the lake. The "Castle" was "neither more nor less than a long range of low buildings, formed of logs and shingles." The main structure consisted of three divisions, or apartments; viz., a granary, which was also used as a store-room; a dining-room, which was also used as an office and reception-room for visitors; and a kitchen. There was another building close by, containing a range of bed-rooms, where guests could be made comfortable for the night. In his later years, the Colonel added a suite of rooms of more lofty pretensions, but without disturbing the old tenements, and these sumptuous apartments were reserved for state occasions. There were underground cellars for wine, milk, and kitchen stores. This description applies to the establishment as it appeared when finally completed. For some time after the Colonel's first arrival it was much less pretentious, and consisted of a single log shanty. In order to prevent settlers and other people from intruding upon his privacy unnecessarily, the Colonel caused one of the panes of glass in the window of his office to be removed, and a little door, swung upon hinges, to be substituted, after the fashion sometimes seen at rural post-offices. By means of this little swinging door he held conferences with all persons whom he did not chose to admit to a closer communication. This, which at a first glance, would seem to smack of superciliousness, was in reality nothing more than a judicious precaution. In the course of his dealings with settlers and emigrants, some of them were tempted, by the loneliness of his situation, to browbeat, and even to manifest violence towards him. On one occasion, it is said, he was assaulted and thrown down by one of the "land pirates," as he used to call them. The solitary situation in which he had voluntarily placed himself, and the power he possessed of distributing lands, required him to act frequently with apparent harshness, in order to avoid being imposed upon by land jobbers, and to prevent artful men from overreaching their weaker-minded brethren. His henchman, house-steward and major-domo, was a faithful servant whose name was Jeffery Hunter, in whom his master had great confidence, and who, as we are gravely informed, was very useful in reaching down the maps. Jeffery, however, did not enter the Colonel's employ until the later had been some time in the country. Previous to that time this scion of aristocracy was generally compelled to be his own servant, and to cook, bake, and perform all the household drudgery, which he was not unfrequently compelled to perform in the presence of distinguished guests.

Some years seem to have elapsed before the Colonel attracted any considerable number of settlers around him. The work of settlement cannot be said to have commenced in earnest until 1809. It was no light thing in those days for a man with a family dependent upon him to bury himself in the remote wildernesses of Western Canada. There was no flouring-mill, for instance, within sixty miles of Castle Malahide. In the earliest years of the settlement the few residents were compelled to grind their own grain after a primitive fashion, in a mortar formed by hollowing out a basin in the stump of a tree with a heated iron. The grain was placed in the basin, and then pounded with a heavy wooden beetle until it bore some resemblance to meal. In process of time the Colonel built a mill in the township of Dunwich, not far from his own abode. It was a great boon to the settlement, but was not long in existence, having been destroyed during the American invasion in 1812. For the first twenty years of the Colonel's settlement, the hardships he as well as his settlers had to contend with were of no ordinary kind, and such only as could be overcome by industry and patient endurance.

Colonel Talbot for many years exercised almost imperial sway over the district. He even provided for the wants of those in his immediate neighbourhood, and assembled them at his house on the first day of the week for religious worship. He read to them the services of the Church of England, and insured punctual attendance by sending the whiskey-bottle round among his congregation at the close of the ceremonial. Though never a religious man, even in the broadest acceptation of the term, he solemnized marriages and baptized the children. So that his government was, in the fullest and best sense, patriarchal. His method of transferring land was eminently simple and informal. No deeds were given, nor were any formal books of entry called into requisition. For many years the only records were sheet maps, showing the position of each separate lot enclosed in a small space within four black lines. When the terms of transfer had been agreed upon, the Colonel wrote the purchaser's name within the space assigned to the particular lot disposed of, and this was the only muniment of title. If the purchaser afterwards disposed of his lot, the vendor and vendee appeared at Castle Malahide, when, if the Colonel approved of the transaction, he simply obliterated the former purchaser's name with a piece of india-rubber, and substituted that of the new one. "Illustrations might be multiplied," says a contemporary Canadian writer, "of the peculiar way in which Colonel Talbot of Malahide discharged the duties he had undertaken to perform. There is a strong vein of the ludicrous running through these performances. We doubt whether transactions respecting the sale and transfer of real estate were, on any other occasion, or in any other place, carried on in a similar way. Pencil and india-rubber performances were, we venture to think, never before promoted to such trustworthy distinction, or called on to discharge such responsible duties as those which they described on the maps of which Jeffery and the dogs appeared to be the guardians. There is something irresistibly amusing in the fact that such an estate, exceeding half a million of acres, should have been disposed of in such a manner, with the help of such machinery, and, so far as we are aware, to the satisfaction of all concerned. It shows that a bad system faithfully worked is better than a good system basely managed."3

During the American invasion of 1812-'13 and '14, Colonel Talbot commanded the militia of the district, and was present at the battles of Lundy's Lane and Fort Erie. Marauding parties sometimes found their way to Castle Malahide during this troubled period, and what few people there were in the settlement suffered a good deal of annoyance. Within a day or two after the battle of the Thames, where the brave Tecumseh met his doom, a party of these marauders, consisting of Indians and scouts from the American army, presented themselves at Fort Talbot, and summoned the garrison to surrender. The place was not fortified, and the garrison consisted merely of a few farmers who had enrolled themselves in the militia under the temporary command of a Captain Patterson. A successful defence was out of the question and Colonel Talbot, who would probably have been deemed an important capture, quietly walked out of the back door as the invaders entered at the front. Some of the Indians saw the Colonel, who was dressed in homely, everyday garb, walking off through the woods, and were about to fire on him, when they were restrained by Captain Patterson, who begged them not to hurt the poor old fellow, who, he said, was the person who tended the sheep. This white lie probably saved the Colonel's life. The marauders, however, rifled the place, and carried off everything they could lay hands on, including some valuable horses and cattle. Colonel Talbot's gold, consisting of about two quart pots full, and some valuable plate, concealed under the front wing of the house, escaped notice. The invaders set fire to the grist mill, which was totally consumed, and this was a serious loss to the settlement generally.

It was not till the year 1817 that anything like a regular store or shop was established in the settlement. Previous to that time the wants of the settlers were frequently supplied from the stores of Colonel Talbot, who provided necessaries for his own use, and for the men whom he employed. The Colonel was punctual in all his engagements, and scrupulously exact in all monetary transactions. The large sums he received for many years from the settlers were duly and properly accounted for to the Government. He would accept payment of his claims only in the form of notes on the Bank of Upper Canada, and persons having any money to pay him were always compelled to provide themselves accordingly. His accumulations were carefully stored in the place of concealment above referred to; and once a year he carried his wealth to Little York, and made his returns. This annual trip to Little York was made in the depth of winter, and was almost the only event that took him away from home, except on the two or three occasions when he visited the old country. He was accustomed to make the journey to the Provincial capital in a high box sleigh, clad in a sheepskin greatcoat which was known to pretty nearly every man in the settlement.

Among the earliest settlers in the Talbot District was Mr. Mahlon Burwell, a land surveyor, who was afterwards better known as Colonel Burwell. He was of great assistance to Colonel Talbot, and became a privileged guest at Castle Malahide. He surveyed many of the townships in the Talbot District, and later on rose to a position of great influence in the Province. His industry and perseverance long enabled him to hold a high place in the minds of the people of the settlement, and he enjoyed the reflection of Colonel Talbot's high and benevolent character. He entered the Provincial Parliament, and for many years retained a large measure of public confidence. Another early settler in the District was the afterwards celebrated Dr. John Rolph, who took up his quarters on Catfish Creek in 1813. He was long on terms of close intimacy and friendship with Colonel Talbot, and in 1817 originated the Talbot Anniversary, to commemorate the establishment of the District, and to do honour to its Founder. This anniversary was held on the 21st of May, the Colonel's birthday, and was kept up without interruption for about twenty years. It was attended by every settler who could possibly get to the place of celebration, which was sometimes at Port Talbot, but more frequently at St. Thomas, after that place came into existence. Once only it was held at London. It is perhaps worth while mentioning that St. Thomas was called in honour of the Colonel's Christian name. Here the rustics assembled in full force to drink bumpers to the health of the Founder of the settlement, and to celebrate "the day, and all who honour it." The Colonel, of course, never failed to appear, and even after he had passed the allotted age of three score and ten, he always led off the first dance with some blooming maiden of the settlement.

Practically speaking, there is no limit to the number of anecdotes which are rife to this day among the settlers of the Talbot District with respect to the Colonel's eccentricities and mode of life. On one occasion a person named Crandell presented himself at Castle Malahide, late in the evening, as an applicant for a lot of land. He was ushered into the Colonel's presence, when the latter turned upon him with a flushed and angry countenance, and demanded his money. The Colonel's aspect was so fierce, and the situation was so lonely, that Crandell was alarmed for his life, and forthwith surrendered all his capital. He was then led off by Jeffery to the kitchen, where he was comfortably entertained for the night. The next morning the Colonel settled his business satisfactorily, and returned him his money, telling him that he had taken it from him to prevent his being robbed by some of his rascally servants. On another occasion a pedantic personage who lived in the Township of Howard, and who spent much time in familiarizing himself with the longest words to be found in the Dictionary, presented himself before the Colonel, and began, in polysyllabic phrases, to lay a local grievance before him. The language employed was so periphrastic and pointless that the Colonel was at a loss to get at the meaning intended to be conveyed. After listening for a few moments with ill-concealed impatience, Talbot broke out with a profane exclamation, adding: "If you do not come down to the level of my poor understanding, I can do nothing for you." The man profited by the rebuke, and commenced in plain words, but in rather an ambiguous manner, to state that his neighbour was unworthy of the grant of land he had obtained, as he was not working well. "Come, out with it," said the Colonel, "for I see now what you would be at. You wish to oust your neighbour, and get the land for yourself." After enduring further characteristic expletives, the man took himself of incontinently. Although many of his settlers were native Americans, the Colonel had an aversion to Yankees, and used to say of them that they acquired property by whittling chips and barter — by giving a shingle for a blind pup, which they swopped for a goose, and then turned into a sheep. On another occasion, an Irishman, proud of his origin, and whose patronymic told at once that he was a son of the Emerald Isle, finding that he could not prevail with the Colonel on the score of being a fellow-countryman, resorted to rudeness, and, with more warmth than discretion, stood upon his pedigree, and told the Colonel that his family was as honourable, and the coat of arms as respectable and as ancient as that of the Talbots of Malahide. Jeffery and the dogs were always the last resource on such occasions. "My dogs don't understand heraldry," was the laconic retort, "and if you don't take yourself off, they will not leave a coat to your back."

By the time the year 1826 came round, Colonel Talbot, in consequence of his exertions to forward the interests of his settlement, had begun to be very much straitened for means. He accordingly addressed a letter to Lord Bathurst, Secretary for the Colonies in the Home Government, asking for some remuneration for his long and valuable services. In his application for relief we find this paragraph: "After twenty-three years entirely devoted to the improvement of the Western Districts of this Province, and establishing on their lands about 20,000 souls, without any expense for superintendence to the Government, or the persons immediately benefited; but, on the contrary, at a sacrifice of £20,000, in rendering them comfortable, I find myself entirely straitened, and now wholly without capital." He admitted that the tract of land he had received from the Crown was large, but added that his agricultural labours had been unproductive — a circumstance not much to be wondered at when it is borne in mind that his time was chiefly occupied in selling and portioning out the land. The Home Government responded by a grant of £400 sterling per annum. The pension thus conferred was not gratuitous, but by way of recompense for his services in locating settlers on the waste lands of the Crown. That he was entitled to such a recompense few, at the present day, will be found to deny. He was a father to his people, and, in the words of his biographer, "acted as the friend of the poor, industrious settler, whom he protected from the fangs of men in office who looked only to the fees."4

In course of time the Colonel's place of abode at Port Talbot came to be a resort for distinguished visitors to Upper Canada, and the Lieutenant-Governors of the Province frequently resorted thither. The late Chief Justice Sir John Beverley Robinson was a frequent and an honoured guest at Castle Malahide; and Colonel Talbot, in his turn, generally availed himself of the hospitality of the Chief Justice during his annual visits to Little York. Among scores of other distinguished visitors may be mentioned the Duke of Richmond, Sir Peregrine Maitland, Lord Aylmer and Sir John Colborne. Mrs. Jameson also visited the spot during her sojourn in this country just before the rebellion, and published the most readable account of it that has yet appeared. Speaking of the Colonel himself, she says: "This remarkable man is now about sixty-five, perhaps more, but he does not look so much. In spite of his rustic dress, his good-humoured, jovial, weather-beaten face, and the primitive simplicity, not to say rudeness, of his dwelling, he has in his features, air, and deportment, that something which stamps him gentleman. And that something which thirty-four years of solitude have not effaced, he derives, I suppose, from blood and birth — things of more consequence, when philosophically and philanthropically considered, than we are apt to allow. He must have been very handsome when young; his resemblance now to our royal family, particularly to the King, (William the Fourth,) is so very striking as to be something next to identity. Good-natured people have set themselves to account for this wonderful likeness in various ways, possible and impossible; but after a rigid comparison of dates and ages, and assuming all that latitude which scandal usually allows herself in these matters, it remains unaccountable.. I had always heard and read of him as the 'eccentric' Colonel Talbot. Of his eccentricity I heard much more than of his benevolence, his invincible courage, his enthusiasm, his perseverance; but perhaps, according to the worldly nomenclature, these qualities come under the general head of 'eccentricity,' when devotion to a favourite object cannot possibly be referred to self-interest.. Colonel Talbot's life has been one of persevering, heroic self-devotion to the completion of a magnificent plan, laid down in the first instance, and followed up with unflinching tenacity of purpose. For sixteen years he saw scarce a human being, except the few boors and blacks employed in clearing and logging his land: he himself assumed the blanket-coat and axe, slept upon the bare earth, cooked three meals a day for twenty woodsmen, cleaned his own boots, washed his own linen, milked his cows, churned the butter, and made and baked the bread. In this latter branch of household economy he became very expert, and still piques himself on it." Of the château itself and its immediate surroundings, she says: "It" (the château) "is a long wooden building, chiefly of rough logs, with a covered porch running along the south side. Here I found suspended, among sundry implements of husbandry, one of those ferocious animals of the feline kind, called here the cat-a-mountain, and by some the American tiger, or panther, which it more resembles. This one, which had been killed in its attack on the fold or poultry-yard, was at least four feet in length, and glared on me from the rafters above, ghastly and horrible. The interior of the house contains several comfortable lodging-rooms; and one really handsome one, the dining-room. There is a large kitchen with a tremendously hospitable chimney. Around the house stands a vast variety of outbuildings, of all imaginable shapes and sizes, and disposed without the slightest regard to order or symmetry. One of these is the very log hut which the Colonel erected for shelter when he first 'sat down in the bush,' four-and-thirty years ago, and which he is naturally unwilling to remove. Many of these outbuildings are to shelter the geese and poultry, of which he rears an innumerable quantity. Beyond these is the cliff, looking over the wide blue lake, on which I have counted six schooners at a time with their white sails; on the left is Port Stanley. Behind the house lies an open tract of land, prettily broken and varied, where large flocks of sheep and cattle were feeding — the whole enclosed by beautiful and luxuriant woods, through which runs the little creek or river. The farm consists of six hundred acres; but as the Colonel is not quite so active as he used to be, and does not employ a bailiff or overseer, the management is said to be slovenly, and not so productive as it might be. He has sixteen acres of orchard-ground, in which he has planted and reared with success all the common European fruits, as apples, pears, plums, cherries, in abundance; but what delighted me beyond everything else was a garden of more than two acres, very neatly laid out and enclosed, and in which he evidently took exceeding pride and pleasure; it was the first thing he showed me after my arrival. It abounds in roses of different kinds, the cuttings of which he had brought himself from England in the few visits he had made there. Of these he gathered the most beautiful buds, and presented them to me with such an air as might have become Dick Talbot presenting a bouquet to Miss Jennings. We then sat down on a pretty seat under a tree, where he told me he often came to meditate. He described the appearance of the spot when he first came here, as contrasted with its present appearance, or we discussed the exploits of some of his celebrated and gallant ancestors, with whom my acquaintance was (luckily) almost as intimate as his own. Family and aristocratic pride I found a prominent feature in the character of this remarkable man. A Talbot of Malahide, of a family representing the same barony from father to son for six hundred years, he set, not unreasonably, a high value on his noble and unstained lineage; and, in his lonely position, the simplicity of his life and manners lent to these lofty and not unreal pretensions a kind of poetical dignity.. Another thing which gave a singular interest to my conversation with Colonel Talbot was the sort of indifference with which he regarded all the stirring events of the last thirty years. Dynasties rose and disappeared; kingdoms were passed from hand to hand like wine decanters; battles were lost and won; — he neither knew, nor heard, nor cared. No post, no newspaper brought to his forest-hut the tidings of victory and defeat, of revolutions of empires, or rumours of unsuccessful and successful war."

The faithful servant, Jeffery Hunter, came in for a share of this clever woman's keen observation. "This honest fellow," she tells us, "not having forsworn female companionship, began to sigh after a wife — and like the good knight in Chaucer, he did.

So one morning he went and took unto himself the woman nearest at hand — one, of whom we must needs suppose that he chose her for her virtues, for most certainly it was not for her attractions. The Colonel swore at him for a fool; but, after a while, Jeffery, who is a favourite, smuggled his wife into the house; and the Colonel, whose increasing age renders him rather more dependent on household help, seems to endure very patiently this addition to his family, and even the presence of a white-headed chubby little thing, which I found running about without let or hindrance."

In politics Colonel Talbot was a Tory, but as a general rule he took no part in the election contests of his time. His servant Jeffery Hunter, however, who seems to have had a vote on his own account, was always despatched promptly to the polling-place to record his vote in favour of the Tory candidate. The Colonel was a Member of the Legislative Council, but he seldom or never attended the deliberations of that Body. During the Administration of Sir John Colborne, when the Liberals of Upper Canada fought the battles of Reform with such energy and vigour, the Colonel for a single campaign identified himself with the contest, and made what seems to have been rather an effective election speech on the platform at St. Thomas. He traced the history of the settlement, and referred to his own labours in a fashion which elicited tumultuous applause from the crowd. He deplored the spread of radical principles, and expressed his regret that some advocates of those principles had crept into the neighbourhood. The meeting passed a loyal address to the Crown, which was dictated by Colonel Talbot himself. This, so far as is known, was the only political meeting ever attended by him in this Province.

The Colonel was nominally a member of the Church of England, and contributed liberally to its support, though, as may well be supposed, he was never eaten up by his zeal for episcopacy. By some people he was set down as a freethinker, and by others as a Roman Catholic. The fact is that the prevailing tone of his mind was not spiritual, and he gave little thought to matters theological. During the early years of the settlement, as we have seen, he was wont to read service to the assembled rustics on Sunday; but this custom was abandoned as soon as churches began to be accessible to the people of the neighbourhood; and after that time, though he was occasionally seen at church, he was not an habitual attendant at public worship. He was fond of good company, and liked to tell and listen to dubious stories "across the walnuts and the wine." A clergyman who officiated at a little church about five miles from Port Talbot was his frequent guest at dinner, until the Colonel's outrageous jokes and stories proved too much for the clerical idea of the eternal fitness of things. "It must," says his biographer, "have been rather a bold venture for a young clergyman to come in contact with a man of Colonel Talbot's wit and racy humour, and a man who would startle at the very idea of being priest ridden; in fact, who would be much more likely to saddle the priest. The reverend gentleman bore with him a long while, till at length finding that he was not making any progress with the old gentleman in a religious point of view — on the contrary, that his sallies of wit became more frequent and cutting — he left him to get to heaven without his assistance. Colonel Talbot was never pleased with himself for having said or done anything to provoke the displeasure of his reverend guest, but being in the habit at table, after dinner, of smacking his lips over a glass of good port, and cracking jokes, which extorted from his guest a half approving smile, he was tempted to exceed the bounds which religious or even chaste conversation would prescribe, and came so near proving in vino veritas, that the reverend gentleman would never revisit him, although I believe it was Colonel Talbot's earnest desire that he should."

Bad habits, if not checked in season, have a tendency to grow worse. As the Colonel advanced in years his liking for strong drink increased to such an extent that the in vino veritas stage was, we fear, reached pretty often. To such a state of things his solitary life doubtless conduced. He had an iron constitution, however, and it does not appear that his intemperate habits during the evening of his life materially shortened his days. He lived long enough to see the prosperity of his settlement fully assured. For many years prior to his death it appears to have been his cherished desire to bequeath his large estate to one of the male descendants of the Talbot family, and with this view he invited one of his sister's sons, Mr. Julius Airey, to come over from England and reside with him at Port Talbot. This young gentleman accordingly came to reside there, but the dull, monotonous life he was obliged to lead, and the Colonel's eccentricities, were ill calculated to engage the affections of a youth just verging on manhood; and after rusticating, without companions or equals in either birth or education, for some time, he returned to England and relinquished whatever claims he might consider he had on his uncle. Some years later a younger brother of Julius, Colonel Airey, Military Secretary at the Horse Guards, ventured upon a similar experiment, and came out to Canada with his family to live at Port Talbot. About this time the Colonel's health began seriously to fail, and his habits began to gain greater hold upon him than ever. As a necessary consequence he became crabbed and irritable. The uncle and nephew could not get on together. "The former," says his biographer, "had been accustomed for the greater portion of his life to suit the convenience of his domestics, and, in common with the inhabitants of the country, to dine at noon; the latter was accustomed to wait for the buglecall, till seven o'clock in the evening. Colonel Talbot could, on special occasions, accommodate himself to the habits of his guests, but to be regularly harnessed up for the mess every day was too much to expect from so old a man; no wonder he kicked in the traces. He soon came to the determination of keeping up a separate establishment, and another spacious mansion was erected adjoining Colonel Airey's, where he might, he thought, live as he pleased. But all would not do, the old bird had been disturbed in his nest, and he could not be reconciled." He determined to leave Canada, and to end his days in the Old World. He transferred the Port Talbot estate, valued at £10,000, together with 13,000 acres of land in the adjoining township of Aldborough, to Colonel Airey. This transfer, however, left more than half of his property in his own hands, and he was still a man of great wealth. Acting on his determination to leave Canada, he started, in his eightieth year, for Europe. Upon reaching London, only a day's journey from Port Talbot, he was prostrated by illness, and was confined to his bed for nearly a month. He rallied, however, and resumed his journey. In due time he reached London the Greater. He was accompanied on the voyage by Mr. George McBeth, the successor to the situation of Jeffery Hunter, who had died some years before. McBeth had gained complete ascendancy over the Colonel's failing mind. Being a young man of some education, and a good deal of finesse, he was treated by his master as a companion rather than as a servant, and the latter merited his master's regard by nursing him with much care and attention.

Colonel Talbot remained in London somewhat more than a year, during which period, as also during his previous visits to England, he renewed old associations with the friend of his youth, the great Duke. He was often the latter's guest at Apsley House, and the stern old hero of a hundred fights delighted in his society. London life, however, was distasteful to Colonel Talbot, and, after giving it a fair trial, he once more bade adieu to society and repaired to Canada — always attended assiduously by George McBeth. Upon reaching the settlement he took lodgings for himself and his companion in the house of Jeffery Hunter's widow. Here, cooped up in a small room, on the outskirts of the magnificent estate which was no longer his own, he received occasional visits from his old friends. Colonel Airey, meanwhile, had rented the Port Talbot property to an English gentleman named Saunders, and had returned to his post at the Horse Guards in England. Mr. Saunders had several daughters, to one of whom George McBeth paid assiduous court, and whom he afterwards married. Upon his marriage he removed to London, accompanied by Colonel Talbot, who resided with him until his death, on the 6th of February, 1853. When the Colonel's will was opened it was found that with the exception of an annuity of £20 to Jeffery Hunter's widow, all his vast estate, estimated at £50,000, had been left to George McBeth.

The funeral took place on the 9th. On the previous day — the 8th — the body was conveyed in a hearse from London to Fingal, on the way to Port Talbot, so as to be ready for interment on the following morning. By some culpable neglect or mismanagement it was placed for the night in the barn or granary of the local inn. The settlers were scandalized at this indignity, and one of them begged, with tears in his eyes, that the body might be removed to his house, which was close by. The undertaker, who is said to have been under the influence of liquor, declined to accede to this request, and the body remained all night in the barn. On the following morning it was replaced in the hearse and conveyed to Port Talbot, where it rested for a short time within the walls of Castle Malahide. A few attached friends from London and other parts of the settlement attended the coffin to its place of sepulture in the churchyard at Tyrconnel. The officiating clergyman, the Rev. Mr. Holland, read the service in a cutting wind, and the ceremony was ended. A plate on the oaken coffin bore the simple inscription:

THOMAS TALBOT,

Founder of the Talbot Settlement,

Died 6th February, 1853