Will’s face was a thunderous cloud. “I don’t see why we have to live like paupers.”
“You’re not exactly paupers, Will. This farm was producing enough to feed a family when I leased it, and it’s no fault of mine that it doesn’t anymore. No more expenditures until you set your house in order, do you understand?”
Will stormed out the door, Betsy looked dubious, and Martha started to cry. But it was Nabby’s reaction that flummoxed him. She sat at her needlework placidly, looking for all the world as though none of the discussion had anything to do with her.
II
The Old Waterloo Circuit included not only villages like Portland and Camden, but the town of Kingston as well. Though he was often occupied in the smaller villages for weeks, Lewis could catch up on the latest news as soon as he returned to the large town with its bustling market and busy harbour, overlooked by the grey limestone walls of Fort Henry.
His estimation of the lawyer Macdonald went up when he learned that he had somehow arranged for the repatriation of a number of the American Hunters, most of them no more than lads who had got caught up in the excitement without any real understanding of the consequences. Many of the rest were sentenced to be transported to Van Diemen’s Land, and Lewis reflected that between Mackenzie’s rebellion and this last incident, that faraway place must be positively teeming with Upper Canadians and close to overflowing with felons and rebels.
As expected, the leader, Von Schultz, and those officers who could be credited with authority were condemned to be hanged. Lewis inquired at the gates of the fort as to whether any of them required the ministrations of a Methodist preacher, but he was turned brusquely away. He looked in vain for the officer who had so obligingly signed the papers excusing him from militia duty, but he was nowhere in sight. Not surprising, he supposed, as soldiers were moved around so much.
It seemed that the people of Kingston had only just got over the excitement of imprisoning these notorious criminals when they were stirred up again by the report issued by Lord Durham, the man sent to find a solution to Britain’s colonial problems. To everyone’s surprise and astonishment, he laid the blame for the unrest squarely on the shoulders of the government, particularly noting the roles played by Sir Francis Bond Head and the Family Compact cronies who dominated the Executive Council of Upper Canada.
“It appears as if the rebellion had been purposely invited by the Government which then severely punished the unfortunate men who were deliberately trapped into taking part in it,” he wrote.
His recommendations were astounding. “Combine the two colonies, Upper and Lower Canada, give them a reasonable government and let them get on with it,” was the concise summation of the report, as pronounced by the stonemason with whom Lewis stayed when he was in Kingston. “Doesn’t sound like such a bad idea to me, provided we can keep the Pope out of our affairs.”
This was the one drawback to the whole scheme, as far as anyone could see — all those Catholics in the lower colony against all the good Protestants in the upper. But the English speakers of Quebec combined with the English speakers in Upper Canada were enough to outnumber those who claimed French as a mother tongue, and Durham seemed to think that they would all be assimilated in time anyway. He speculated that eventually the French in Quebec would be indistinguishable, in either language or religion, from the rest of the population. Lewis wasn’t so sure. His own church was meant to have been assimilated by the Wesleyans, but the forced marriage was teetering on the brink of annulment, and Methodists like himself stayed staunchly Episcopal. Change didn’t happen easily, just because someone wished for it.
Generally, though, people warmed to the idea of turning two colonies into one, especially when it was revealed that, in spite of the disparity in numbers, there would be an equal representation for each — a decision that could well work to Upper Canada’s advantage. Lewis began to hear the phrase “responsible government” bandied about in almost every conversation.
There was even some talk that Kingston itself might become the capital of the newly fledged union of Canada East and Canada West. The young queen would have the final say, of course, but with its new penitentiary and its strategic location at the southern end of the Rideau Canal, the city stood a good chance of being considered for the honour. There was even some speculation that the Presbyterians might realize their long-held dream of establishing a university. All that was needed was for the Queen to grant the charter.
Thaddeus wasn’t surprised that the Presbyterians were campaigning. The Methodists already had their own academy at Cobourg. The Anglicans had established their institution at Toronto, close to the current seat of colonial government. They paid little attention to the older city at the eastern end of the lake. If Kingston were to become the capital, though, there would be a scramble to re-establish themselves closer to the centre of power, and then the Presbyterians could probably say farewell to their charter, for the Church of England would insist that its hegemony be upheld.
There were some who protested that Kingston was too small and too lacking in the necessary amenities needed for a capital, and that its southerly location made it vulnerable to attack. The recent events at Prescott had made the last a valid argument, although the same reasoning could well be applied to Toronto.
Still, there was an excitement about the place, and generally its inhabitants looked forward to the future with more optimism than they had felt in a long time. All they needed now was a period of peace, a reasonable harvest, and a steady influx of immigrants to help the city grow.
Lewis enjoyed this circuit. Although Kingston boasted a variety of churches, his rounds included the settlements east to Adolphustown, an area that included the first Canadian Methodist house of worship. The old church at Hay Bay, built with love and hoarded pennies by the first Loyalist settlers, appealed to his sense of what a meeting place should look like — plain, austere, nothing expended on unnecessary ornamentation — just a wooden building housing a people determined to worship God in their own way. He felt privileged to follow in the footsteps of William Losee, who had battled the elements and a broken heart to bring the Word of God to a people cast into the wilderness.
Losee was the first itinerant minister to leave the more settled Methodist circuits of the United States. He had arrived at the Bay of Quinte in 1790, galloping from place to place, setting a blistering pace for himself, seemingly indefatigable in spite of the fact that a childhood accident had left him with a withered, useless arm. “Oh, God, I call upon you to smite sinners,” was his cry, and often the sinners in question would fall to the ground, or so it was reported. Lewis wished it were that simple, that all he had to do was ask, and the terrible crimes and sinful passions of Upper Canada could be corrected at a word.
Losee was soon followed by others of his ilk. Their willingness to leave the settled areas for the lonely and isolated cabins and shanties of the clearings spread Methodism in a way that could not be countered by the faiths whose proponents preferred the comforts of a warm fire and a stout roof over their heads. Losee’s success was also his downfall, however. He fell in love with a local woman who not only rejected him as a suitor, but chose instead a more popular and far handsomer fellow preacher who had followed him into the wilds. He gave up his travels then, and went home a broken man, never even having been fully ordained as an elder in his church. The travelling connection took its toll, Lewis reflected, one way or another.
Kingston enjoyed a lively farmer’s market in the centre of town. “The Shambles,” as it was called, consisted of a series of wooden sheds, built to provide at least a modicum of shelter to the farmers who brought their goods in to supply the townsfolk. These shelters were flimsy affairs and a constant fire hazard. In fact, they had burned down twice already, but each time they were hastily thrown up again and The Shambles quickly returned to being a place of diverse scents and sounds as farmers’ wives hawked fresh eggs and vegetables, Natives brought their beautifully woven baskets