April 1956 — Vol. 37, No. 4 — Canada's Memorials
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Any country that is alive to its future
should be interested in its past, but we are tempted by the
pressures of the present to relax our grip on remembrance
of what has been.
Someone has said that the greatest mistake made by the contemporary
generation -any contemporary generation - is that it does
not read the minutes of the last meeting. It starts its course
with the handicap of having to learn all over again in practice
what it could have learned readily from the records of its
ancestors.
Our past is preserved in memoranda made up of stonework
and earthwork, weapons and utensils, pictures, sculpture,
scratches on rock and scribblings on paper. We cannot save
everything, and everything is not worth saving. What we save
must have significance. It may be a painting in an ancient
church, or a bullet scar on a wall, or the signature on a
document, or a frayed map, but it must have meant something
in its day.
We do not go back to our memorials to raise their broken
wails as shelter for our families and parliaments today, but
so that we may learn from them, so good in their time, what
principles their builders used that are useful in our new
circumstances.
How recent is our past!
The past of other continents is a mine of fossil facts.
Here in Canada our past is more recent. Other nations are
proud of a history that goes back to the night of time; we
belong to the sunrise. But our little past is just as vital
in our present as is their great past.
The builders of early Canada were not equipped with the
prodigious knowledge of engineering and manufacturing that
we possess today. They were doing something for the first
time. Within their means and technical understanding they
did it well.
This is the importance of our memorials, not that they are
old, but that they were new. Every fort that was built, every
portage that was broken around a waterfall, every palisade
erected by an adventuresome community: every one of these
was an advance, a broadening of horizons, something daringly
new.
Historic buildings
Nearly every town and city in Canada has at least one building
that was the scene of human adventure and significant events.
John P. Kidd, Executive Director of the Canadian Citizenship
Council, who has been active in preserving Canada's memorials,
wrote not long ago: "If one were to think of efficiency in
terms of dollar value and of consumption of oil for heating
and wages for cleaning and painting, then no doubt the modern
kind of building is more efficient. However, if you think
of it in terms of the culture and memories of a young nation
with perhaps a thousand years of history ahead, then what
price will you put on modernity?"
A picture publication of Standard Oil Company (Kentucky)
prints photographs every month of historic buildings in the
Scenic South. A recent issue includes pictures of
Shaker residences, relics of a strange sect that lasted from
1805 to 1910; of the slave quarters where "Uncle Tom" lived;
of an iron furnace built in 1791; of the house where the man
who wrote "Home Sweet Home" was imprisoned as a suspected
spy, and of a reconstruction of the first house built in Kentucky.
Some may say that we in Canada have nothing like these;
but we have! In the heart of Westmount is a farm—house
that remained in the same family for 285 years; its basement
has embrasures through which the men fired at raiding Indians,
while their womenfolk and children took refuge in a sealed—off
room. At Lake Memphremagog is a stone house built by brothers
who came here at the time of the American revolution. Lachine
Manor, built almost 300 years ago, has been converted into
a museum.
The Montcalm house in Quebec, reputed to be the residence
of the great French soldier and his death place after the
Battle of the Plains of Abraham in 1759, was rescued by the
local planning commission from wreckers just a few months
ago. Ross House, the first official post office in western
Canada (1855) was saved by efforts of the Manitoba Historical
Society. The house in which Sir Wilfrid Laurier was born has
been acquired as a national memorial. The York, Ontario, Pioneer
and Historical Society has preserved a curious early 19th
Century building, the Temple of Peace, as a museum.
Château de Ramezay, built in 1705 in what was then
the fashionable part of Montreal, is a treasure house of antiquities.
Here were held the levees of the governors—general and
intendants; here were planned the expeditions to fur fields,
the voyages of discovery, the military expeditions. In 1775
the Chateau was headquarters for the Continental Army under
Montgomery, and to it there came in the following year Benjamin
Franklin and other envoys seeking to persuade the French—Canadians
to revolt against British rule.
Canada has many forts, well—preserved and carefully
tended, from Fort Anne on the east coast, the site of a French
settlement 15 years before the Pilgrim Fathers landed on Plymouth
Rock in 1620, to far western forts that belong to the past
century. These structures justify their preservation, because
it was in and around them that the course of our history,
perhaps the course of world history, was changed.
Antiquities
The impression of an event remains longest when it has been
recorded through most sense avenues, and so those who seek
to preserve our history in significant form should lean to
the preservation of actualities. Few history books have power
to kindle emotional interest, but few persons remain unstirred
when they tread a path that Champlain trod, climb the gully
that Wolfe climbed, touch the walls that Madeleine de Verchères
defended, look westward from the rock at Bella Coola whence
Alexander Mackenzie, first of men to cross the continent of
North America, sighted the Pacific.
Cairns, tablets and monuments should be the last resort
in marking historical places, except to tell the story embodied
in the original stonework, earthworks, buildings and trenches
when these can be preserved. "This stone was raised by Pierre
Le Moyne, Sieur d'Iberville" is infinitely better than: "Near
this spot a fort was built..."
When we have around us the foundations of buildings, or
the furnishings of houses, the chairs and beds and pots and
pans, used by the people of the 17th and 18th centuries, those
people cease to be shadowy abstractions and take on the dimensions
of warm and vital human beings.
Sir Leonard Woolley tells in his report on his excavations
at Ur of the Chaldees two poignant instances that bring alive
in our minds that long ago age. In Queen Shub—ad's grave,
the fingers of a girl harpist were still touching the strings
of her lyre, and, more intimate still: "One girl was not wearing
her silver hair—ribbon - it was in her pocket, tightly
coiled up, as if she had been late for the funeral and had
not had time to put it on."
Archaeology is coming into its own in Canada, with expeditions
from several universities going into the field every summer.
Clay pots have been found in North Simcoe which prove that
there was a civilization in that area at least 2,500 years
B.C.
Since 1934, skilled archaeologists of the federal government,
the Royal Ontario Museum, and the University of Western Ontario
have been directing the task of uncovering the sites of Indian
villages and of the first European outposts in Ontario. At
the site of the first Fort Ste. Marie they have discovered
what is probably the first waterworks, canal and sewage system
constructed north of Mexico.
Out west, Manitobans treasure the bells of Red River, from
the 100—pound church bell sent to the baby settlement
by Lord Selkirk in 1819, through a long line of school bells
(one of which had formerly been used as a fog warning) to
the chimes of St. Boniface, which, incidentally, crossed the
Atlantic five times, caused the first recorded strike in this
country, and inspired a poem by John Greenleaf Whittier. Calgary
has its first schoolhouse, a typical foot—hills cabin
of the early days, and a red river cart, visited by thousands
of people every year. The Pacific coast is restoring its Indian
totem poles.
These things have been saved by the vision and effort of
people aware of the significance of the past, not only because
of its material influence upon our present way of life but
because of its inspiration. The antiquities are not worth
much money (our forefathers had small riches) but they are
beyond price as part of our heritage.
The letters and documents preserved in the Canadian Archives,
in museums such as Bytown Museum in Ottawa and Château
de Ramezay in Montreal, and in university and private collections,
recreate in warmly human terms the people who wrote and used
them.
Landmarks and monuments
In commemorating great men and women there is one difficulty:
by the time they make their mark on the world in science,
literature, politics or war their birthplaces have changed
hands, the furniture of their youth has been disposed of and
scattered. In such circumstances, just the same as when ancient
buildings have fallen before the march of progress or fire,
we must resort to markers.
Enough information, printed so as to be legible without
effort (which cannot be said for the plaques now widely used)
should be given so that the reader learns not only the significance
of the site but its drama, too. For example, there is a cut—stone
monument in Lachine to commemorate events connected with the
massacre of the inhabitants by fifteen hundred Iroquois in
1689. Why not erect a large map, showing the comings and goings
of that fearful night, how the Indians loaded their canoes
with victims, flaunted their victory in the face of the supine
governor at Montreal, and tortured them at fires within his
sight? All this is eloquently told by Thomas B. Costain in
The White and the Gold (Doubleday Canada Limited,
Toronto, 1954).
In addition to historic sites and other material remnants
there are antiquities of another sort, folk—songs. Our
history is told largely in songs our ancestors sang, songs
that were, especially among French—Canadians, as familiar
as bread.
Dr. Marius Barbeau spent more than forty years collecting
Canadian folk—songs and folk—lore. The National
Museum, where he served officially from 1911 until his retirement
in 1948 and unofficially thereafter, now has a collection
of 195 Eskimo folk—songs, more than 3,000 Indian, close
to 7,000 French—Canadian, and some 1,500 old English
songs.
These are songs that beat time for the paddles of early
explorers and the coureurs des bois; they enlivened the scene
wherever the raftsmen and lumberjacks appeared on eastern
rivers; they set the rhythm for winnowing in the barns, spinning,
beating the wash, and rocking the cradle by the fireside.
Dr. Barbeau has written dozens of books on the subject,
obtainable from the National Museum of Canada, Ottawa. One,
Folk—Songs of Old Quebec, tells the story of
these old songs, and gives the words and music of fifteen.
Arthur Lismer contributed seven drawings.
Need for imagination
We in Canada need to use imagination in naming roads and
trails, beaches, portages, and natural features of the landscape.
"The Road to the Isles" is a far more dramatically fitting
name than "Canso Causeway" for that new link between Cape
Breton and the mainland; it carries echoes of the Scottish
homeland from which this land was settled. Ontario had a happy
thought when it named its main roads "The King's Highway"
and the road from Toronto to Niagara Fails "The Queen Elizabeth
Way."
Let's go on from there. At Georgian Bay, Ontario, there
is excellent opportunity to use the Indian legendary figure
Kitchikewana as the central figure for the fascinating legends
that abound in the islands. From Lake Ontario to Lake Simcoe
there runs the Trent waterway - why do we not make attractive
use everywhere along it of the fact that this was the ancient
Iroquois trail, travelled by Indians, missionaries and adventurers
in the great days of French occupation and English exploration?
Why not mark at several points the road that runs along the
Ottawa River from Montreal to recall the stirring story of
Adam Dollard, Sieur des Ormeaux, and his gallant band of sixteen
French youths. "This road," the signs might say, "follows
the river up which Dollard and his sixteen youthful volunteers
paddled their canoes on their way to battle a thousand war—mad
Iroquois descending upon Montreal. They held out against the
Indians for two weeks. Every one of the little band was killed,
but the Indians retreated." No single plaque by the roadside
does justice to this great Canadian epic.
Forts and battlefields should have large maps showing the
battles that took place there, the movements of the opposing
forces. There is no room on these maps for stodgy particularity:
draw the picture in sweeping strokes. Give visitors, the fifth
or seventh or tenth generation descendants of the brave men
who fought there, a guide so that they may walk where their
forefathers marched and counter—marched, and reconstruct
in informed imagination the brave deeds that were done there.
National memorials
The Canadian Historical Association has as one of its objects
"to promote the preservation of historic sites and buildings,
documents, relics and other significant heirlooms of the past."
Like so many similar organizations, it has been handicapped
by lack of money, but it has, nevertheless, achieved greatly.
In recent years the Association has concerned itself with
publication in permanent form of information about historic
sites.
The Historic Sites and Monuments Board of Canada, first
set up in 1919 to act in an advisory capacity to the government,
has been instrumental in placing about 500 markers commemorating
events or persons connected with the history of Canada. Structures
of historic interest have become national historic parks and
museums, from the great Louisburg fortress on the Atlantic
to Fort Langley on the Pacific.
Canada is moving in the direction of a National Trust, like
the National Trust for Scotland, an independent body founded
in 1931 to save from destruction buildings and lands that
are of architectural or historic interest. A speaker said
recently: "An occasional growl from a trusty watchdog has
a salutory effect."
Speculation about a National Trust for Canada resulted from
the visit here of the Earl of Wemyss and March, Chairman of
the Scottish Council. His illustrated talks told convincingly
the Trust's story of achievement.
The Queen Mother, Queen Elizabeth, said to the National
Trust for Scotland last September: "In our desire for progress,
and our hurry to achieve it, there has been a danger that
some of the treasures of the past might be allowed to decay,
or even to be destroyed, either through indifference or through
ignorance of the issues at stake. The work of the Trust is
to protect this heritage so that our children may enjoy the
beauties of the past and learn through them the stirring history
of their country."
Local responsibility
If we are to preserve our memorials there is needed a hard
core of local enterprise and its spreading halo of enthusiasm.
It is not enough to admit a need for something: broad local
citizen interest must be bolstered by activity.
Every town and city has scenes, buildings, and articles
of historic interest. There is romance in the oldest tree,
the first school, the first industry, the blacksmith's shop
and the birth—place or home of a famous son.
Space does not permit us to give details of the splendid
work being done by historical societies in many provinces
and communities: Ontario, Manitoba, Toronto, Fenelon Falls,
Grimsby, Dundas, Niagara, Essex County, York County, and the
Canadian Railroad Historical Society all wrote us telling
with pride of their accomplishments and plans.
Just as an example of what can be done by a combined effort
of local, provincial and federal people, consider Huronia,
where in 1610 the white man made his first appearance in what
is now the province of Ontario. Here, in three centuries,
the human race progressed from the stone age to the machine
age. Those years cover three important stories: that of the
Huron Indian, that of the French missionary, and that of the
war of 1812.
The first white man in Huronia was Etienne Bruld, sent there
by Governor Champlain to learn about language, customs, resources
and geography. In 1615, a French missionary celebrated the
first mass in Ontario at the Indian village of Carhagouha,
and in 1649 the Iroquois put to death at the stake two Jesuit
priests. In the American war of independence, an American
commander besieged a blockhouse near what is now the beautiful
Wasaga Beach; the British scuttled their ship the "Nancy"
and sank two ships of the American force: today, the hull
of the "Nancy" is in a museum on Nancy Island, and the ribs
of one of the American ships are preserved in a park at Penetanguishene.
All these, and much more, made a past worth preserving,
so in 1941 a group of business and professional men organized
the Huronia Historic Sites and Tourist Association. It sponsored
archaeological research, marking of sites, restoration of
buildings, and promotion of the district as a place to visit.
By 1947 there had been established at Midland a museum that
attracted 17,000 paying visitors in four months. Co—operation
between the Midland Y's Men's Club and the University of Western
Ontario resulted in reconstruction of a Huron Indian village.
At the east end of Huronia is the residence of the late
Stephen B. Leacock, which it is hoped to preserve as an historic
literary shrine. In Orillia the historical society has been
instrumental in marking the houses, stores, etc. mentioned
by Leacock in his book Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town.
All the story of the development of Huronia as a centre
of historical and tourist interest is told in J. Herbert Cranston's
book, Huronia, the Cradle of Ontario's History (Huronia
Historic Sites and Tourist Association, Barrie, 1950, 25 cents)
Retrospect and Prospect
The exploration of the past we have glanced at should be
a strange and wonderful experience. Many things happened,
or almost happened, that give us food for thought today. Every
act in that past was an experiment, the result of which we
experience.
Today is the time to preserve our memorials, while they
are still available. As the Queen Mother said: "Once gone
they can never be replaced, and each one of us is the poorer
for their loss." No chromatic brilliance of the future should
dazzle us into seeing only dull grey in our past.
To be successful we need the energetic co—operative
effort of national, provincial and local people. So much has
been lost, so little remains, that decisive action is imperative.
The cost need not be great, and it can be equitably divided
according to means. Buildings and sites of national importance
can be preserved by the Government of Canada; those of provincial
significance by the provincial governments, and local sites
can be marked by municipal authorities and the co—operative
effort of community organizations.
Here is one area of our social life in which we can let
ourselves go in uninhibited enthusiasm. The political and
sectional differences of bygone years have ceased to agitate
our minds. In our conception of a united Canada all our past
belongs to all of us. Passion and prejudice and mythomania
could have no better monument erected to signify their demise
than this: that Canadians should work together to commemorate
the struggles and achievements of their forefathers.
Published by RBC Financial Group. All editions from the RBC
Letter collection are available on our web site at www.rbc.com/responsibility/letter.
Our e-mail address is: rbcletter@rbc.com.
Publié aussi en francais.
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