HISTORY OF BOWMANVILLE
Part 28
By Mr. J. B. Fairbairn, P. M.
Collecting taxes about 1846, my vacation called me to make the acquaintanceship of the McClungs. The farm was on the north side of the concession line in a field not far from the house I saw a boy driving a yoke of oxen attached to a pair of harrows. As it was in the Fall he must have been putting in wheat. I hailed him when he stopped the team and I went over to where he was. It was then that I first saw John McClung. How is it that boys of the same age so quickly strike up an alliance? After a few minutes conversation we became friendly and for all the long space of time since then, with only one short misunderstanding, we continued on terms of friendship. He asked me to stay overnight which I gladly did. I wonder if Shakespeare ever slept on a clean, fresh straw pallet. Also, it might have inspired his immortal lines on balmy sleep. No downy couch could have given any better repose to a tired boy. Hospitality, what a great Christian virtue, it is and I affirm
that in my experience no race or nationality have this quality developed to the same extent as those who come from Ireland.
John McClung afterwards came to Bowmanville to learn storekeeping. I am not quite sure but think he started with a Mr. Crawford on the place where John McMurtry’s west end department store now stands. A man named Fanny Gustin had in my earliest recollection a wagon shop first on it. The former gentleman was from the north of Ireland, a fairly good merchant. He understood style. Like hundreds of others he could not withstand the temptations arising from prosperity. His head became greatly enlarged. Not satisfied with the small dwelling he had over the shop he took the necessary money out of the business and built the brick dwelling where James Elliott at present resides. He soon found himself financially handicapped and was compelled to throw up the sponge. After doing so he went west. He was a Presbyterian and was a regular attendant at their services.
Next John turned up as a clerk with the late James McFeeters, Bowmanville’s first Mayor, who was related to the McClung’s by marriage. During the first summer of his apprenticeship his new master kept and drove a fine matched team of horses. He took a great shine to them and in the early summer mornings would ride them down to the creek for water. I used to join him with the nag we owned and many a race we had in going to and fro. It was great sport for us there being a large deep hole at the mouth of the raceway, we rode them in helter skelter. It was then I first learned how well a horse can swim. On one occasion poor John came badly to grief. He took a notion ode day to improve the looks of the admired pair and on his own responsibility cut their tails square off and pretty short at that. This did not meet the approval of the senior warden and Jack caught scissors! I can see him now telling me how badly he had been abused and vowing to cut the
acquaintance of his unappreciative uncle.
John’s next move was to Newcastle. A Mr. Short was the moving spirit in that somewhat notorious locality. He was also in the same line of business. How long he remained there I cannot say. He next appears and come up smiling, neatly gotten up, serving customers in the establishment of Bowman & Company. During this time the usual thing happened. He fell head over heels in love. The fair object of his devotion was a beautiful girl. He lavished a wealth of affection upon her and when the intimacy was broken off he felt it so keenly that I had to try to comfort him. They say you must suffer yourself before you can thoroughly sympathize with another who suffers from the same cause. Well, I won’t explain but I did the best I could to try to cheer him up under such trying circumstances. He survived the shock. At a maturer age Cupid shot the fatal arrow. This time the immorata, a daughter of the late Jesse VanCamp. (By the way this family who settled on the La
ke shore near the beginning of the century are deserving a large place in any account of Darlington that may be written.) She became his wife and when they lived at Rathskamory, the present home of Arthur E. McLaughlin, Barrister, we got to know her well. She was a lady by every instinct of her nature, goodly to look upon and made a partner who helped him through all the changing phases of his lot, which were numerous, sharing prosperity with adversity.
Thomas McClung sometimes afterwards came into the firm. This undertaking flourished at a great rate. Their business connection widened to such an extent that the townships of Cartwright , Manvers, Clarke and Darlington and the regions beyond, paid them tribute. Things went on swimmingly and it looked as if there would be no end to their prosperity. There came at last a fly that spoiled the pot of ointment. The accumulation of unused capital had increased to such an extent (John told me himself they had $40,000 lying in the bank at a low rate of interest) tempted them to undertake some new line of operations. An unlucky star or some other potent influence suggested a large foundry. They knew nothing about such a business and with the usual result in such cases, they came badly to grief. George Shaw, a brother-in-law, owned the charming farm "Wheatlands", east of this town, now the property of our genial and outspoken friend Cornelius (Neil) Osborne,
of whom it may fittingly be said that no farmer in Darlington has appreciated more highly the value of education, for he has given all his children a high school course, his daughter Pearl having taken high standing as a student, passing into the University with honors where she still is prosecuting her studies and where she is each year adding to her laurels. Mr. Shaw united with the McClungs in the enterprise and lost his means too.
It would be most interesting if one had time if only in the outline to rehearse the doings of Mr. Shaw’s people. The first Mr. Shaw who came to Darlington owned large tracts of land in which were included the farms of the Braggs. It has all passed into other ownership’s, George Shaw is still living. His sons have gotten on famously in Toronto. I am very glad to hear! The pater was well liked in Bowmanville.
Mr. Thomas McClung paid us a visit a year ago last summer. He reminded me of one of those old pine trees you sometimes see straight as an arrow, but showing the signs of the many tempests and storms of sleet and rain and all kinds of weather they have had to encounter since they were saplings, but still showing signs of vitality in the remaining green branches on the top. So with him; he looks as if there was strength enough to be able for some time to come to stand many a gale, notwithstanding the fact that he does show the effects of the storms through which he had passed. It was indeed a very great pleasure to many an old Durhamite to see him looking so fresh and so full of activity. His residence under the sunshine of California seems to agree with him and the same remark applies to Mrs. McClung who accompanied him on his trip to the old homeland. Mrs. John McClung and the two daughters are, I understand, in California. Little did John and I dream when
building our youthful castles in the air that he would die under the Southern Cross and that is remains would lie on the shore of the Pacific Ocean, there to await the last summons.
Mr. William McClung settled also near Tyrone about the same time as hes brother. He bought a farm adjoining and carried it on for many years. A sad accident occurred during the time he occupied it. One summer evening a daughter was out in the yard attending to something that called her out of the house.. There was no sign of any storm pending in the sky. Suddenly there was a flash of what we call sheet lightning and she was struck by it and fell a corpse. It was a most singular fatality and in this part of the country unheard of. William McClung, Junior came to Bowmanville and opened up a carriage shop on the site of the present Durham Rubber Company’s factory. He did a large flourishing business in that line for many years. I think he was the brainiest one of the whole lot. He was very optimistic and full of hope. He saw an opening in the foundry business and went into it on a limited scale. The lack of means prevented him from making it what he ambitions pointed
to and he at least sold it out. He was a member of the Methodist church and took a deep interest in all its affairs. The Sunday School had a particular attraction for him and many an hour he spent in teaching any class that was committed to his care. There is no doubt but that many a scholar was helped to a better understanding of the Bible through his efforts. He was a close student himself and they got the benefit of his earnest study of the Book which was unceasing. He has been invalided for some years. He has three fine sons, Richard H. is a druggist at Gananoque, Ont. Fred W., is also in the same line in New York City, and Charles A. is at Phoenix, B.C. Like the vast majority of Bowmanville youths, they are a credit to those from whom they sprung and the town wherein they were born. William’s brother James is in the North-West. He studied for the ministry and has been spending his life in that the best of all callings, preaching and teaching the gospel of good tidings to his fellow men. His c
onnection is with the Canada Methodist Church.
In the year 1857 a sailing vessel put out from her moorings at the port of Plymouth, Devonshire, England, her prow directed towards the stormy Atlantic, whose winds and waves she would have to encounter before reaching the Western world which was her destination. A modest youth, sixteen years of age, stood on the deck, his whole soul beating with anxious hope and oppressed with dreadful fears. The future with all its probabilities and possibilities was an unknown quantity. He was a fledgling from the parent nest, and the last farewell had been said to those dear ones at home. As the vessel moved gently out under the influence of a favoring breeze, this stripling saw the Hoe and adjoining shores of his loved and native land slowly disappearing from sight. Imagine how his heart ached and how hard to bear the separation from all he loved; and if so to him full of high hopes, the rich warm blood of a healthy youth flowing through his veins, how must it have fared with the mother who bore h
im, as her eye took one last look on her child on whom she had bestowed the best of her life? Her heartstrings were stretched to their utmost tension. How could she have borne up under the trial without their giving away altogether but for Hope, that blessed word, which springs exulting on triumphant wing, reaching out with joy and anticipation to the time when parting shall be no more.
Scientists, agnostics and unbelievers try to make us believe that death ends all, but such a doctrine is repudiated by the natural longings of our own nature. Can it be possible that there is no compensation for the ills we suffer here? A wound in the body will be healed under proper circumstances; is there no healing for the wounded spirit? Yes, there is balm in Gilliad and how sweet to sundered friends the declaration comes: "I am the resurrection and the life" and that "where I am, ye shall be also".
It must not be forgotten that at that time and for two or three decades before it, the emigrant had to face a widely different condition of things than what he has to do to day. There were no cable telegrams and before written communications could pass to and fro, your friends might be all dead and buried.
The lad who this launched out his feeble bark on the great ocean of future effort, was William Browning Couch. He reached Bowmanville in due time and after residing here a few months he went to live in the peaceful little village of Hampton, in Darlington. One would have thought he made a great mistake in spending four years of that period of his life in such a quiet surroundings. Far from it. It was a great blessing to him. Far from the "maddening crowd", he had leisure to apply himself to the improvement of his education which under the conditions at home had made it impossible for him to acquire more than an introduction to the world of letters. He assiduously devoted himself to this noble object and with his retentive memory and mathematical cast of mind, he made rapid progress, adding one grain to another, so that when he came again to bowmanville his cup was fairly full. This did not satisfy his longing for higher attainments. He did what very few have the sen
se and courage to do after reaching to years of maturity. He went to Govenor Loscombe and took private lessons, and with his help delved into a higher strata of intellectual culture.
I must pause here to write a few words about Mr. Loscombe. He was an employee of the Grand Trunk Railway contractors and remained in the office until after the completion of the road, having in the meantime brought his family here. (Of the four sons where were member of it, Robert Russell Loscombe was the only one who became permanently identified with Bowmanville. The others removed into different parts of the Dominion, filling useful and responsible positions.) He wad an outstanding personage and would have in any community become a conspicuous figure. He had previous to coming here, taught a classical academy near Niagara Falls and this he did with great success. There being an opening here for a similar school, he undertook to teach one, and numbers of the young men who are now in middle life, some of whom are scattered over Ontario and elsewhere, got a training in classical lore under his tuition. His methods took after those adopted at the famous Rugby Institute i
n England. Physical exercise and all plans calculated to bring out the manly virtues, were enforced with rigid scrupulosity. Hearing so much about him at the time, I became quite impressed about the value of the means he used to make courageous, intelligent citizens of those under his care. I know some of them who like to recall him and the school where he so thoroughly drilled them in the humanities. If the present generation of scholars were subjected to the same kind of treatment, I think they would earn to be more respectful to their elders and superiors. He tried with all his might to make them gentlemen as well as scholars.
Mr. Couch entered into the McClung Company’s store as a junior hand. He served them during the long period of 17 years, with unfailing fidelity. By giving strict attention to the business he got a thorough knowledge of it in all its details, such as the value of goods, how to buy and how to sell, and notwithstanding all the close attention he gave to it, he still found time to pluck many of the beautiful flowers of literature which lay so profusely scattered all along his pathway. He did not ignore the importance of outdoor sports, which are within legitimate bounds necessary for the full development of an all round specimen of the race.
I have been told that when in Hampton Mr. Couch often engaged with the other boys in the common games then in vogue and could hold his own in any feats of strength which were called out by the play. He was an adept at Cornish wrestling and generally floored his antogonist.
I do not intend to write a homely on the subject of recreation; but I feel like entering a protest against the prevailing waste of time, when the golden hours which are so often wasted in useless games under the specious pretext of being used to rejuvenate the wasted energy of the players, supposed to require it by the hard labour they undergo in the work-a-day world. I have no quarrel with games of amusement at proper times. They have a legitimate place in our lives, but when it comes to every spare moment being devoted to this, I think it time to ask the devotees is it worth the while of intelligent immortal beings to give it such a large place in their rapidly passing moments? I have often mentally surveyed the ground and am pained to see so many of our youths and others entering middle life so carried away by this alluring practice. Could they realize the genuine pleasure, arising from a well cultivated mind which opens up such unbounded fields for growth in what is the best part of
our being, they would do what the subject of my sketch did, reverse the order and place mental cultivation first and give the other a subordinate place.
The sever application given by Mr. Couch has enabled him to read and digest some of our best authors in prose and poetry, the fruit of which was exemplified in the delightful lecture he recently gave at Tennyson in the High School Assembly Room. It was listened to with great attention by a large intelligent appreciative audience.
Related as Mr. Couch is to the great poet Browning the probability is he inherits his literary taste. He is a wide reader of good books. I think the highest compliment that could be paid from one an to another is when a parent can point out to a youth such a character and such a course as his as a fitting example to follow and I am sure this can be safely done by any father or mother who wishes the child to adopt a high ideal. When he first came to Bowmanville, by some law of attraction, Mr. Couch and the writer became intimate and many a confidence has been exchanged since. A reliable friend is a person to be prized and this I have found him to be without any variation. In thirty years we have been associated with the School Board and have worked in the greatest harmony. He is not a dogmatist but is always willing to give due consideration to the opinion of others. Mr. Couch takes an abiding interest I the Public Library over which he is the President but this to him is a lab
our of love.
When the right time came Mr. Couch left the McClungs and launched out in business, in association with Jas. A. Johnston and J. H. Cryderman. They founded the present extensive dry goods house which bears their names and which stands second to none in extent of its trade in the county. Their motto has been (and I think this applies to our business men generally) "Fair dealing, honest prices and good value." As years go by my hope is that the subject of this sketch may grow in power to enjoy the fruits of the seed he sowed so early under such adverse circumstances.
Next - Bowmanville and Darlington History Part 29
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