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BUILDING
AND FURNISHING THE LOG CABIN When the first
Loyalists landed at the different points along the shores, the lots had not
yet, in most cases, been marked out by the surveyors; and they were obliged
to wait several weeks before the "drawings" could take place. They
had brought with them a number of military tents, which had seen service
during the Revolutionary War, Camping out in tents, as a recreation for a few
weeks during the summer, is still looked upon as a rather pleasing pastime.
It was, however, very annoying to the Loyalists. They had left their homes
across the border several months before, to enable them to be ready to take
possession of their new homes in the early spring, and every day lost meant
one day less for them to prepare for the coming winter. They had no
alternative but to pitch their tents near where they had landed, and wait
until the surveyors had completed their work. Several weeks were thus passed
in idleness, and the first summer was far spent before the "drawings"
took place. This was a simple process. Small pieces of paper, upon which were
written the numbers of the lots to be apportioned, were placed in a hat, and
the surveyor, with a map spread out before him, superintended the operation.
The officers came first, and drew their lots in the first concession,
fronting upon the water. As each drew forth a piece of paper from the hat,
the surveyor entered his name upon the corresponding number upon the map.
After the officers had been served, the other members of the company went
through the same ceremony. During the few weeks that they had been waiting,
some had made short trips through the forest, and had observed favourable
locations, and after the "drawings" were completed, there was more
or less trafficking in lots, and exchanging locations for a consideration;
but for the most part each accepted the lot drawn, and hurried away to his
future home. The white village
upon the shore was soon a scene of great confusion. Each family secured a few
days' ration from the government supplies, packed up the tent and their other
belongings, and set out through the lonely forest. Unless one has visited a
section of Canada from which none of the timber has yet been removed, it is
difficult to form a proper conception of the condition of the older settled
portions one hundred and thirty years ago. The debris of the forest lay
rotting as it had fallen, the swamps were undrained, the rivers and creeks
were unbridged, and the only roads were the blazed trails left by the surveying
parties. The clearing up and draining of the farms has brought about a great
change in the low lands. Large, impassable creeks have been reduced to small
streams that can be crossed with ease, and the swamps, which threatened to
mire any who ventured over them a century ago, furnish now a safe and firm
foothold. It was with
difficulty that the lots could be located, as there was nothing to indicate
the boundary lines but the "markers" placed by the surveyors. When
the little family group arrived at their destination, they pitched their tent
again, and the housewife busied herself in preparing their first meal in
their new home, while the husband surveyed his domain, noting the character
of the soil, the presence of creeks, mounds, and other conditions favourable
for the first clearing and the erection of a house. That the selection was in
most cases wisely made, is attested to-day by the excellent natural
surroundings of the old homesteads. As they partook of
their first meal in their wilderness home they contrasted their primitive
surroundings with the comforts and luxuries they had left behind them; but,
with no regret for the sacrifices they had made, they laid their plans for
the future. On the morrow the father, and the sons if there were any, and not
infrequently the mother, too, set out to do battle with the forest. The
short-handled ship axe, not much heavier than the modern hatchet, was their
principal weapon. They laboured with a will and cleared a space large enough
for the cabin. There was no cellar
nor foundation, as for our buildings of to-day. A small excavation, to be
reached through a trap-door in the floor by means of a short ladder, served
the purpose of the former, and a boulder placed under the ends of the
base-logs at each corner of the building was ample support for the walls. It
was slow work felling the huge pines, cutting them into proper lengths,
hewing them into shape, and laying them into position; but slowly the
building rose until it attained the height of nine feet. Then the rafters
were set in position. Then, too, the chimney was commenced. A stone
foundation was carefully built up to the level of the floor and crowned with
flat stones, to serve as the hearth. The huge fire-place was then built of
stones, and above it was erected a chimney in a manner similar to the house,
but instead of using logs, small sticks, two or three inches in diameter,
were laid tier upon tier in the form of a hollow rectangle. It was carried a
foot or two above the peak and plastered over with clay, inside and out. In
many of the early dwellings there were no chimneys, and the smoke was allowed
to escape through a hole in the roof as best it could. In some of the
first cabins the floor was of earth. If made of wood, large timbers were
used, squared on the sides and hewed smooth on the supper surface. Paint was
very scarce, and a painted floor was a luxury which very few could afford. A
clean floor was the pride of the mistress of the house. Coarse, clean sand
and hot water were the materials used to obtain it. Once a week, or oftener,
the former would be applied with a heavy splint broom, and the latter with a
mop. The hotter the water the quicker it would dry. While the perspiring
mother was scrubbing amid clouds of steam, the tub of boiling water was a
constant source of danger to her young children. The roof was
composed of thick slabs, hollowed out in the form of shallow troughs, and
these were laid alternately with the hollow sides up, the convex form of one
over-lapping the edges of the concave forms of those on either side. There
was an opening for a door, but no lumber was to be had at any price, unless
it was sawed out by the tedious process of the whip-saw, so doors there were
none; but a quilt hung over the opening served the purpose. Two small
windows, one on either side of the door, admitted light to the dwelling.
These windows would hold four or six 7" x 9" panes of glass, but
many a settler had to content himself with oiled paper instead. The sash he
whittled out with his pocket-knife. Sometimes there was no attempt at
transparency; and the window was opened and closed by sliding a small piece
of board, set in grooves, backwards and forwards across the aperture. The
interstices between the logs were filled with sticks and moss, plastered over
with clay. Thus the pioneer's house was complete, and not a nail or screw was
used in its construction. When lumber became
available, a plank or thick board door took the place of the quilt in the
doorway. This was fastened by a strong wooden latch on the inside. The latch
was lifted from without by means of a leather string attached to it and
passed through a hole a few inches above, and when the inmates of the house
retired for the night, or did not wish to be molested, the string was pulled
inside. The old saying, "the latch-string is out" was a figurative
method of expressing a welcome, or saying "the door is not barred
against you." The pioneers had big hearts, and to their credit it can be
said the latch-string was rarely pulled in when a stranger sought a meal or a
night's lodging. If the family were
large the attic was converted into a second room by carrying the walls up a
log or two higher. Poles, flattened on both sides, were laid from side to
side to serve as a ceiling to the room below and as a floor for the one
above. A hole left in one corner gave admittance by means of a ladder, and
one small window in the gable completed the upper room. For the same reason
that there was no door, there was precious little furniture. Some of the
Loyalists brought with them from their former homes a few pieces - a
grandfather's chair, a chest of drawers, or a favourite bedstead; but, as a
rule, there was no furniture but such as was hewed out with the axe and
whittled into shape and ornamented with a pocket-knife. A pocket-knife and a
pen-knife were not the same. The former was a strong knife made to serve many
useful purposes, while the latter was a small knife carried mainly for the
purpose of shaping quill pens. For a bedstead,
there was a platform of poles across one end of the room, about two feet
above the floor, supported by inserting the ends between the logs in the
wall. Rough benches with four legs served as seats, and a table was similarly
constructed on a larger scale. Later on, when lumber was obtainable, these
articles of furniture were replaced by more serviceable ones. The deal table,
the board bench, and the old-fashioned chair with the elm bark bottom and
back, woven as in a basket, were one step in advance. It not infrequently
happened that in large families there were not enough seats to accommodate
all, and the younger members stood up at the table during meal-time or
contented themselves with a seat upon the floor. If a bedstead could be
afforded it was sure to be a four-poster with tester and side curtains.
"What was a tester?" do I hear someone enquire? It was a cloth
canopy supported by the four tall bed-posts. Bunks were built against the
walls, which served as seats in the daytime; but when opened out, served as
beds at night. Mattresses were made of boughs, corn husks, straw, or
feathers, and rested upon wooden slats, or more frequently cords laced from
side to side and end to end of the framework of the bedstead. A trundle bed
for the children was stowed away under the bedstead during the daytime and
hauled out at night. This was like a large bureau drawer, with rollers or
small wooden wheels on the bottom and handles in front. The handles consisted
of short pieces of rope, the ends of which ran through two holes and were
knotted on the inner side. As soon as the iron
could be procured, a crane was swung over the fire-place, and from it were
suspended the iron tea-kettle and the griddle. The latter was a large disc
upon which the pancakes were made. It was supported by an iron bale, and was
large enough to hold eight or ten fair-sized cakes. The frying-pans were
similar to those in use to-day, but were furnished with handles three feet
long, so that they could be used over the hot coals of the fire-place. The bake-kettle
was an indispensable article in every household. It was about eighteen inches
in diameter, stood upon short legs, and would hold four or five two-pound
loaves, or their equivalent. The coals were raked out on the hearth, the
kettle set over them and more coals heaped upon the iron lid. These were
replenished, above and below, from time to time, until the bread was
thoroughly baked. The bake-kettle was superseded by the reflector, which was
an oblong box of bright tin, enclosed on all sides but one. It was placed on
the hearth with the open side next a bed of glowing coals. In it were placed
the tins of dough raised a few inches from the bottom, so that the heat could
circulate freely about the loaves. The upper part of the reflector was
removable, to enable the house-wife to inspect the contents. The reflector in
time gave way to the bake-oven, which was built in the wall next the
fire-place, so that one chimney would serve for both, or the oven was built
outdoors under the same roof as the smoke-house. The latter was a
comparatively air-tight brick or stone chamber used for smoking beef, and the
hams and shoulders of the pigs. Before the advent of the smoke-house, strips
of beef required for summer use were dried by suspending them from pegs in the
chimney. The reflector was
sometimes used for roasting meat, but where the family could afford it, a
roaster was kept for that purpose. The roaster was smaller than the
reflector, but constructed in a similar manner and, running from end to end
through he centre, was a small iron bar, one end of which terminated in a
small handle or crank. This bar, called a spit, was run through the piece of
meat, and by turning the handle from time to time the meat was revolved and
every portion of the surface was in turn brought next the fire. The drippings
from the meat were caught in a dripping-pan placed underneath for the
purpose. These drippings were used for basting the roasting meat, and this
was done with a long-handled basting spoon through an opening in the back,
which could be easily closed at will. As there were no
matches in the early days, the fire was kept constantly burning, and when not
required the coals were covered over with ashes, where they would remain
alive for hours. Occasionally the coals would die out and then one of the
younger members was sent away to a neighbour to obtain a pan of live ones.
Most families were skilled in making a fire by striking sparks from a flint
upon a dry combustible substance, or by rapidly revolving one dry piece of
pine against another, as the Indians used to do; but these practices were
slow and were not resorted to except in extreme cases. The blazing logs in
the fire-place furnished ample light during the winter evenings. The
inventive genius of man has since produced the kerosene lamp, gas, acetylene,
electricity, and other illuminants, but none of these can furnish the bright
welcome of the pine knots blazing about the old-fashioned back-log. If any
other artificial light was required, the tallow dip was the only alternative.
This dip was a tallow candle, in use before moulds were introduced. A kettle
was placed over the coals with five or six inches of water in the bottom.
When the water was brought to the boiling point there was added the melted
tallow. This remained on the surface of the water. The only service the water
was intended to render was to support the tallow by raising it so many inches
above the bottom of the kettle, where it could be used much more easily than
it could if it remained at the bottom. The candle wicks were twisted with a
loop at one end, which was slipped over a small stick. Five or six wicks
would be thus suspended from the stick and slowly dipped into the liquid
tallow, by which process the wicks became saturated. As soon as the tallow
congealed they were dipped in again, and the operation repeated until the
wick was surrounded by a thick coating of tallow very similar to the ordinary
wax or tallow candle of to-day, but not so smooth or uniform in size as those
made at a later period in the moulds. Dishes were as
scarce as cooking utensils. A few earthenware plates, bowls and a platter
were displayed upon a shelf; and they were all the house could boast of.
Others were whittled out of the fine-grained wood of the poplar and served
the purpose fairly well until the Yankee peddler arrived with the more
desirable pewter ware. A corner cupboard,
from whose mysterious depths, even in our time, our grandmothers used to
produce such stores of cookies, doughnuts, tarts, and pies, completed the
equipment of the first house of the pioneer. Chapter 1 Chapter 3 Chapter
4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter
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