Читать книгу A Kingston Album - Marion Van de Wetering - Страница 6

Kingston is a study in contrasts: the British military base with French origins, the quick rise to prominence followed by the languid decline, the centre of a shipping system in the age of air travel.

It would be easy to say that decisions not of Kingston’s making have forced it to become less than it could have been. The city’s rise to prominence as the principal point of transshipment on the Great Lakes, where cargoes going inland had to be transferred from small bateaux to the great sailing ships which plied the lakes, was followed by a gradual decline as market forces and improvements in the St. Lawrence Seaway dictated.

The city’s initial position as one of the most important fortifications in the British colonies was later undermined as troops were recalled with the advent of Confederation. Similarly, Kingston’s dream of retaining its position as capital of a united Canada fell by the wayside, a casualty of political expediency.

And yet, there is something about the city, something rare and beautiful, which captivates visitors, leaving them spellbound.

Perhaps it is that sense of history, so often paved over or subdivided into condos in other cities, that lends Kingston its particular charm. Perhaps it is the fact that its people have “beaten their swords into ploughshares” by turning their military installations, such as Fort Henry and Murney Tower, into museums, allowing the uninitiated a glimpse of the glory days of the British Empire. Perhaps it is the sense of living history – evident in the fact that so many of the surnames of Kingston’s original citizens, like Grass and Richardson, still survive there today – that makes Kingston special.

Or perhaps it is the sense that Kingston has continued to build according to its own vision of its potential that has led it to prosper despite its misfortunes. The founding of Queen’s College (later Queen’s University) and the Royal Military College were decisions that have continued to profit the city in innumerable ways. The vision of the city council that built City Hall has finally been vindicated, as the structure is one of the most striking of its kind in the land. And, although the many penal institutions in the immediate vicinity lend Kingston a somewhat notorious air, there is no doubt that these facilities lend an aura of stability to the community.

Despite Kingston’s trials, the unmistakable vitality is still there. It’s there in the way those who were raised there and moved away long to return. It’s there in the passion with which those who come and stay speak of their adopted home. And it’s there in the sense of connectedness citizens feel with their past – and their future.

St. John’s Street, c. 1860s.

National Archives of Canada #PA-62177. Rifle Brigade collection.

King Street, c. 1860s.

National Archives of Canada #PA-62172. Rifle Brigade collection.

Residential District, c. 1860s.

National Archives of Canada #PA-119319.

Photographer: Sheldon and Davis.

The mouth of the Cataraqui River was originally chosen as the site of the new settlement of Cataraqui because of its fine harbour. French ships could pull into the estuary at the mouth of the river, protected from the fierce gales off Lake Ontario by the spit of land which curled around the bay.

This made Cataraqui a natural point at which the smaller bateaux and Durham boats needed to transport goods up the St. Lawrence could be offloaded onto larger sailing vessels for the voyage up the Great Lakes. The larger ships made good economic sense. The bigger the ship, the more furs that could be transported from the interior at the same time, decreasing transportation costs. Fort Frontenac was built to protect this new harbour from the competition: the British, and their Iroquois allies.

In 1758, Fort Frontenac was captured by British forces under the command of Colonel Bradstreet. This marked a decline in Cataraqui’s fortunes, as the major fur trade route was diverted south to the British-controlled Hudson River, instead of continuing to follow the French-dominated St. Lawrence route.

Another blow came during the Revolutionary War when Captain Twiss recommended in 1778 that the British Navy build a fort on the newly renamed Carleton Island instead of building at Cataraqui. Throughout the conflict, the new fort, Haldimand, took over the roles Cataraqui had played, both as a military centre and as a major shipping port.

For the duration of the war, only naval ships of the provincial marine were permitted on the lakes. After the war, the expected influx of settlers and supplies to the area created the need for the re-establishment of a commercial shipping industry at the head of the St. Lawrence River. Since Carleton Island was too small to handle the expansion, the old site at Cataraqui was pressed into service (Preston, 1954).

British Troops at Fort Henry, 1867.

National Archives of Canada #C-55511. E. Gary Carroll collection.

By the mid-1800s, the legislature of the United Province of Canada was deadlocked. Initially, Canada West and Canada East each sent forty-two representatives to the house and, under the double majority system then in use, legislation had to be approved by a majority of representatives from both jurisdictions (Bourrie, 1998). However, the anglophone population was divided along regional, religious, and political lines, while francophones enjoyed a solidarity born of a common language and culture. The anglophone vote was fractured among many parties, while francophones voted en masse with whatever party served them best. The result was that new governments were continually being formed, only to be defeated almost immediately, once after a tenure of only two days.

George Brown, responding to the inevitability of growth in Canada West outstripping that in Canada East, first proposed representation by population in 1853. Not surprisingly, francophones voted against the initiative, as an increase of representatives in Canada West would tip the balance of power against them.

By June 1864, the union had seen three separate governments come and go. The province was at a crossroads, and the solution which presented itself was confederation of the two Canadas with the rest of British North America. This move would, in one fell swoop, increase the anglophone population enough to overwhelm the francophone vote. Initial negotiations began in Charlottetown in September 1864, and, after three long years, Confederation was proclaimed Monday, July 1, 1867 (Waite, 1962).

Proclamation of Confederation, Market Square, July 1, 1867.

Queen’s University Archives #PG-K 142-1.

Brock Street, c. 1875.

National Archives of Canada #PA-103120.

Edward McCann collection.

Michael Grass was born in Strasbourg about 1732. Around his twentieth birthday, Grass left his homeland, possibly to avoid conscription by the French, who had controlled the area for almost three quarters of a century.

In September 1752, Grass found himself in Pennsylvania, where he worked as a saddler. Four years later he was captured by the French and imprisoned at Fort Frontenac until his escape several months later.

In August 1775, Grass was named a captain in the local militia, but he refused the commission. Two years later he was forced to seek asylum in New York, which was under the protection of the governor, Sir Guy Carleton. Numerous other Loyalists had also sought shelter there, and in order to ease the pressure of such an influx, Carleton decided to resettle the Loyalists along the banks of the St. Lawrence. Knowing Grass had spent some time at Cataraqui during his incarceration by the French, Carleton offered him a special commission to lead the Loyalists and establish a settlement in the area.

Captain Grass and his band of 983 settlers left New York in 1783 in about half a dozen ships, and arrived at Sorel, Quebec, in the early fall of the same year. The main party was quartered there, while an advance party continued up the St. Lawrence in bateaux to Cataraqui. After some initial surveying, Grass and the majority of his advance party retired to Sorel for the winter. Seventeen of the settlers elected to winter at Cataraqui.

The following May, the entire party set out for their new home (Grass, 1964). The governor had been most generous with the colonists, allowing them provisions for three years, including some shoes and other clothing, foodstuffs such as flour, cured meat, butter, and salt, as well as a quantity of seed for planting crops. The governor also ensured the colonists had sufficient farming implements such as axes, hoes, spades, and ploughs (Machar, 1907).

King Street looking south from the Market, 1885.

Queen’s University Archives #PG-K 126-2.

Photographer: J.W. Powell.

City Hall, 1875.

National Archives of Canada #PA-103095.

Photographer: Henry Henderson.

Barrie Street after the ice storm, c. 1890.

Queen’s University Archives #PG-K 124-4.

Photographer: Henry Henderson.

A boy and his dog, c. 1886.

National Archives of Canada #PA-164326.

Photographer: Frederic Hathaway Peters.

The first few women to practise medicine in Canada served as an inspiration to many other women. Dr. Jennie Trout, practising in Toronto, inspired Elizabeth Smith, of Winona, Ontario, to follow in her footsteps. Smith, the only daughter of well-off parents, was encouraged at every turn by her family. It was on her behalf that the rector of the Hamilton Institute petitioned the Royal College of Physicians and Surgeons of Kingston in 1877 to admit women to medical school.

This led the college to institute a summer course for women wishing to study medicine in Kingston. Although several women contacted Smith regarding the opportunity to study medicine, only four, including Smith, could raise the funds needed to enter the first session in April 1880.

This first freshman class endeared themselves, not only to their professors, some of whom stayed on through their scheduled holidays to give lectures, but also to the townspeople, who were fascinated by them.

The following year the segregated summer course was scrapped in favour of co-ed classes, and, in October 1881, the women began attending regular classes with their male counterparts at the college. The male medical students were courteous and supportive throughout that first year. However, with the graduation of the senior class, all that changed.

The majority of the remaining students, aided and abetted by a few of the junior staff, harassed the women unmercifully throughout the semester. By the beginning of December 1882, things came to a head. The female students walked out in the middle of a Physiology lecture. During the next ten days, the male students refused to attend lectures, and resolutions flew back and forth between them and the faculty. Finally, a deal was struck which allowed the female students to finish out the year. After the segregated classes resumed, it was decided to establish a separate medical school for women.

This solution was enthusiastically adopted by students, faculty, and townsfolk alike, and in June 1883, work frantically began to find faculty, funds, and facilities in time for the proposed entering class to begin in October. The city of Kingston promptly donated several rooms in City Hall, including Ontario Hall, for the new facility. All was ready on the appointed day for the eleven students of the new college.

Although supported wholeheartedly, the college could not compete with rival schools in Toronto and Montreal. Faced with declining enrollment after a decade of valiant effort, the college was dissolved in September 1899 (Travill, 1982).

First telephone cable being laid, 1881.

Queen’s University Archives #PG-K 163-16. Rob Buttle collection.

Princess Street looking west from Wellington, c. 1890s.

Queen’s University Archives #PG-K 128-1.

Photographer: Henry Henderson.

The citizens of Kingston have always had access to a fine variety of entertainment in their city. The fact that it was a garrison town, drawing a steady stream of soldiers from all over the British Empire, meant the community had no lack of talent within its confines. However, the consensus by the mid-1870s was that the best in live entertainment was bypassing Kingston in favour of other communities in the region. The blame for this was put squarely on the fact that existing facilities, namely those at City Hall and the Victoria Music Hall, were too small to accommodate the better acts which were touring North America at the time.

In March 1878, after several years of false starts and abandoned plans by various groups in the city, W.C. Martin proposed the building of an Opera House. Construction began in September, and was completed in time for the grand opening on January 6, 1879. Unfortunately, the premiere was marred by poor scene changes, no artificial lighting, and insufficient heat. Despite this inauspicious start, the Opera House continued to draw crowds with the top-notch performances it attracted, until a fire, sparked by unknown causes, razed the building in December 1898 (Waldhauer, 1979).

Princess Street looking east from the Opera House portico, c. 1890s.

Queen’s University Archives #PG-K 128-22.

Sir John A. Macdonald’s coffin, 1891.

Queen’s University Archives #PG-K 152-10A.

City Hall draped for the death of Queen Victoria, January 1901.

Queen’s University Archives #PG-K 151-2.

Ice factory.

Queen’s University Archives #PG-K 163-1 A.

John Alexander Macdonald was born January 11, 1815, in Glasgow, Scotland. He immigrated to Kingston five years later, where he passed the bar at age 21. He practised law in Kingston for many years, and was involved in a wide range of duties in town, both legal and otherwise, throughout his life.

Macdonald was first elected as the Conservative member for Kingston in 1844, four years after Union was declared. Thirteen years later he formed a coalition government with Sir George-Etienne Cartier. When George Brown, leader of the Opposition, threw his support behind the government’s proposal for Confederation in 1864, Macdonald invited the leaders of the other North American provinces independent of the United States to join him at Charlottetown for negotiations. Once the British North America Act was passed in 1867, the Dominion of Canada became a reality, and Macdonald became Canada’s first prime minister.

Macdonald was knighted for his efforts and, under his leadership over the next four years, the four original provinces were joined by Manitoba, British Columbia, and Prince Edward Island. Although Macdonald’s administration was rocked by scandal soon after, forcing him to resign, he returned to power in 1878, and continued as prime minister until his death in Ottawa on June 6, 1891 (The New Encyclopaedia Britannica).

Cutting ice on the bay, 1894.

Queen’s University Archives #PG-K 163-4. Mrs. de L’Panet collection.

John Palmer Litchfield was a reporter whose time masquerading as a doctor landed him in an Australian debtors’ prison in the early 1800s. Upon leaving prison, Litchfield set sail for Canada, where he met John A. Macdonald. In 1854, Litchfield leased Rockwood Villa, built by George Browne for John Solomon Cartwright on his estate outside Kingston. By using Macdonald’s name, and the skills he had learned to pose as a doctor in Australia, Litchfield was also able to obtain a licence to operate an asylum for Kingston’s elite.

Litchfield then campaigned long and loud for the government to establish a public asylum at Kingston, thus treating the elite separately from the criminals with whom they were currently housed in the penitentiary. In the fall of 1856, the government acquiesced. However, the actual construction was delayed by three more years. In the interim, the Villa’s stables were refurbished to shelter twenty-four female inmates who transferred from the penitentiary. The stables continued to house female inmates until 1868.

Although the new asylum was built, using local limestone, by convict labour, supposedly providing a considerable savings over contracting out the work, the government complained continually about the cost of guards to oversee the labour. Work slowed to a crawl as Litchfield fought for enough money to complete the facility. Finally, after observing that operating costs could be curtailed if the insane at Kingston Penitentiary could also be housed in the new asylum, Litchfield got his wish. The building was completed in the spring of 1859 (125 years keeping people healthy, 1981).

Stables at Kingston Asylum, c. 1900.