By Mr. J. B. Fairbairn, P. M.
The following romantic tale that happened 15 years ago, is no fable and is so connected with Kilmarnock I am tempted to relate it. In passing east on King St. one day, I saw the late lamented Dr. J. W. McLaughlin standing in the Murdoch’s doorway and he called out to me. Those who knew the Dr., will remember that he had a strong sense of Irish humor in his make up. "Fairbairn, don’t you want a servant man?" He knew very well that I was too frightfully poor to indulge in such a luxury and had to do my own work. He said if you do there is a country man of yours over in my office who wants job. Prompted, I suppose, largely by curiosity, I went across the street and sure enough I found a young good looking fellow with a leer on his face that spoke plainly that he was under the influence of a big dose of the barley bree. I began to express my surprise and sorrow at seeing a person of his calibre and appearance in such a humiliating condition. He looked me straight in the eye with a more sobered expression on his face and said, "He that steals my purse, steals trash, but he that filches my guid name leaves me puir indeed." I was not a little take back, at his Shakespearean quotation and said to him, "Where are you from?" "From Glasgow" he replied " I worked at boiler making in that city, but man I was born in Kilmarnock," I then saw daylight through the darkness. I immediately went over and told Peter Murdoch the circumstances; I can yet see how the magic work "Kilmarnock" took hold of him. Off went the apron and he was willing to accompany me any where to see his brother Scott from that delectable place. We interviewed John _____ for such was his and then the fun began. I only wish you could have seen Peter’s face while he cross questioned with so much interest the wanderer. John was equal to the catechist. His answers were so true and straightforward that we both became convinced that he was no fraud. I said, "Do you rally want work and to change the present sad and degrading way in which you are spending the best of your life." He said "yes" in a tone of sincerity. I said "Is so come up to my house in the morning and I will see what can be done," knowing if he id so there would be some chance. He was promptly on hand according to agreement. Then came the crux of the difficulty. Mrs. Fairbairn was in delicate health and I knew very well that if she thought that a "knight of the road" were harbored anywhere about the premises, she would e uneasy. I found the old adage to come true: That if there’s is a will there’s always a way to be found. The domestic who was living with us was a kindly girl and entered into the plot that we devised with great sympathy. We arranged sleeping apartments for him in the out buildings and she saw that he got plenty of food. Water was plentiful and soap cheap. I got a tub of hot water out in the shed and John got a good clean ing. I do not know if we reached Glasgow dirt or not. The Kilmarnock blood told and the friends acted and we got him a good decent outfit in the way of garments. When he got them on with shirt collar, etc., he could scarcely recognize himself. Shakespeare speaks of being clothed in ragged misery and this had been his condition. He had spent the night before he turned up at the doctor’s office in the dirty filthy lockup with nine others, one a negro, so you can imagine his state. We made a bonfire in the yard and burned what he had on. After a week or two he got strengthened up and I can assure you he was nobody’s fool. He was a fairly good scholar and not a bad singer. He went out for a summer to Well’s Crawford. They were considerate for him and he got on well there. Coming back to town in the fall he went into Mr. Murdoch’s store as a kind of delivery clerk and remained with them nearly up the time he left. He joined the church and was a faithful member and also sang in the choir. He wa s a good elocutionist and often recited for us at our church gatherins. The Rev. Dr. R. D. Fraser, who was the pastor of St. Paul’s church and an excellent one he was, helped poor John to live the better life, by loving sympathy and advice. He was somewhat, I think, discontented here, as some fools thought it cute o brand him a "tramp". He went to the far West and the last I heard of him was through Mr. Fraser, who met him out on the C. P. R. in the North West Territories. He had drifted into their employment.
Perhaps no single enterprise of any kind was of more importance to the then inhabitants of the Canadas than the creation of the old Montreal Telegraph Company. Sir Hugh Allan and some others associated with him invested their means and launched their commercial adventure. Their anticipations as to its success and usefulness were verified. In 1847 the first wire was strung between Montreal and Toronto. As might have been anticipated it caused quite a stir among the rural population through the towns and villages in route. This mode of sending message with such great speed opened up a new area in the interchange of thought, giving those living at great distances apart, the means of making their wants and wishes known to each other. At first it was looked upon by many as something uncanny and it was quite a time before the unlearned-the masses-could take it in.
Here let me state two things that occurred to show what queer ideas some people formed as to how telegraphing was done. A man in the township of Clarke came into my office one afternoon, and sent an important message to which he wanted a reply. He waited anciously up till 8 p.m. the hour of closing, and then reluctantly left for his home. It was late in the Fall. The roads were bad. It also was raining slightly. I was very much surprised at a hurried knock at my door about 9:30 p.m. and on going to see what was wanted, I found my anxious customer. He was quite excited and eagerly said. "You’ve got my answer" I was quite dumfounded, and for a minute or two did not get my ideas together. "What do you mean?" I managed to say. "Why" he said, "I heard it coming over the wire." It appears that when he got some four miles east he heard the music of the spheres-the winds- by its action on the wire causing it to make a sound and concluded that it must be his looked for telegram on its way to Bowmanville. Sadly indeed he again left for his long ride through the darkness and mud.
I was coming up King street on another occasion when just opposite where the McTavish place of business was, I saw a man standing eagerly watching the telegraph wire. When I came up to him I found it was an old friend, a Scotchman from near Hampton. After exchanging the usual greetings, I said to him "Man, what are you looking at?" "Why" he said, "Don’t you see your news has got stuck on it’s way?" The boys had been flying a kite the tail of which had got entangled with the wire. I had to explain to the man from Caledonia and give him some better idea how the news was sent.
The first telegraph office opened in Bowmanville was I think in 1848. I am not quite sure but think T. T. Patrick who came from Lindsay, was the first operator in charge. The office was in an upper room of a frame building that belonged to Mr. Heal and afterwards to Mr. Aaron Buckler. There was an old fashioned outside stairway which you climbed to reach it; certainly not a very elegant place to house the belongings of the Telegraph Company. Mr. Patrick, became friendly with the Sutton’s, who had a drug store on the corner where they so long supplied the wants of the people with the kinds of merchandise in which they so largely dealt. They same trade is still carried on the same spot. Messrs. R. M. Mitchell & Co., being the fortunate proprieters, succeeding to the long well established Pharmacy that had flourished there since a very early period.
Mr. Patrick decided to become a druggist and spent quite a time in the shop as a student and moved the instruments there. After he left town, the late George T. Hall, of Whitby, a brother-in-law of the late John Hamm Perry, came to look after the interests and business of the telegraph company. He was a good operator, attentive and obliging. I succeeded him in 1852.
My first experience in connection with the Telegraph came about as follows:
An American speculator by the name of Snow, came over from he United States and persuaded the benighted Canucks that an additional telegraph company was wanted, holding out great inducements in the way of increased facilities and cheaper rates. By his plausible arguments he managed to get his scheme afloat. A charter was gotten and large quantities of stock disposed of. When in Bowmanville inducing the early ones to invest their money he was also on the lookout for an agent and offered me the post, and I accepted it. I did not take long to acquire the art as the original receiver in which the paper ribbon was used was in general use. I paid some attention to it so as to be ready when the gala day for opening would arrive but nothing but bitter disapointment was the result. Such a telegraph line as this I am sure was never put up before or since. The material used was common iron wire without proper insolation. It was impossible to send messages over it. A more deliberate swi ndle was never perpetrated on any community. The rascal Snow so manipulated things as to get the contract and did what he liked. The concern had a short sickly existence, regretted only by the unfortunate stockholders who were Jewed out of their money. It was afterwards bought up and remodelled by Weller, of Cobourg, and a man from Picton. They tried to work it under a new name. It was again passed into other hands and they finally amalgamated with the Montreal Telegraph Co.
My second experience was quite a different one. The late James Dakers, of Montreal, had through the influence of Sir Hugh Allan been given the secretary and treasureship of the new company then struggling from the dawn of its first efforts into the light of day. He gave devoted attention to its interests and became a most useful man in the head office. He was a native of the old Cathedral town of Brechin, Scotland, a man of fine parts and high aims. He had remained unmarried. A family whom he had known in that same city came to our village, in the early forties and afterwards moved on to a farm which they bought in the third concession of Darlington, now belonging to Mr. William Snowden. The father was Mr. John Christie. The eldest daughter, Jean, who is the heroine of the romance, was a young comely maiden, as handsome as a picture. Being just out from the Old Country she had the fair complexion that so many of the people from that northern clima te posses. The first few months they stayed in the village they rented a small frame house from Mr. Stephens, next to their own place on the corner of Silver St.. It so happened that Mr. Dakers had received from some friends in the old country, a parcel of goods which they wished to convey through him to them on the farm. In doing this he wrote explaining his part in the transaction. Miss Jennie replied to this letter. A correspondence between them was opened up, photographs were exchanged. He made an offer of marriage which was accepted and the little girl he knew when in bonnie Scotland thus became the fiance of one she could not even recollect. When he left Montreal for the purpose of carrying out the compact he made all necessary preparations so that if on meeting she had any scruples he would not return to the city. The momenteous day came, they met and were married and a more happy one could not have taken place. They were a most loving devoted pair, I knew them intimately afterwards. He became a wealthy man. They lived in fine style owning one of the many beautiful homes in which that city abounds. They were most hospitable and many emminent guests were entertained by them. Mr. Drakers was a man of superior talents and his wife was equally endowed. One daughter graced the circle. She is now the wife of a leading physician in Montreal, Dr. Cameron. Mrs. Drakers has survived him many years and is enjoying a green old age surrounded by every temporal comfort.
Next - Bowmanville and Darlington History Part 35
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