First the Indians, then the French, then the British; Quebec, Montreal, Kingston; three steps in history, tradition, situation.
As gray as mother of pearl, but an all-encompassing gray that includes violet and blue and a fine sea-green when the sun strikes it, that is Kingston, which, because it is built upon a ridge of limestone, has for long suffered from the dull phrase, “The Limestone City.”
The soft wings of age seem to hover over a town that is more or less of an impression to the traveler; for the main lines of the railways merely skirt it, (leaving to a little stub line the duty of carrying passengers) and it is almost mirage-like as one passes it by water on the way to or from Montreal; a fairy place in a summer dawn, or by moonlight.
Its position on the north shore of Lake Ontario just at its junction with the St. Lawrence was sure to attract a colony from the earliest days. Count Frontenac renamed the Indian “Cataraqui,” or “Clay Fort,” in 1673 after himself. At that time the French fur trade was its reason for being. Two years later Louis XIV made [page 47] a grant of two thousand acres of surrounding country to his friend, Robert Cavelier, Sieur de la Salle, because of the upkeep of the Fort. And then a quarrel arose with La Barre, after the recall of Frontenac, who took possession in his usual unethical fashion, and in 1695 had the Fort rebuilt. It became something of a storm centre. As the French supremacy in Canada drew to a close, and the New England colonies to the south became stronger, the primitive streets of the fortress town echoed the sound of drums until Bradstreet led an army of three thousand men and eleven guns against it, and in August, 1787, it capitulated. Then for a long time there was silence.
Another generation had nearly run its course when it was reclaimed by the United Empire Loyalists, who gave their settlement the name of Kingston.
Among the town’s forefathers were Joseph Brant, the Indian Chief, Neil McLean, Lawrence Herkimer and the Rev. John Stuart, the first Anglican clergyman in Canada, who later founded here a school for boys.
A new town was laid out with a flour mill, a court of Assize, a Whipping-Post and Stocks. In 1792, Kingston became for a short time the capital of Upper Canada with Simcoe as Governor.
Two years later the Duke de la Rochefoucauld-Liancourt, drew the following picture of the little [page 48] town: “Kingston consists of about 130 houses, none of them distinguished from the rest by a more handsome appearance. The only structure more conspicuous than the others is the barracks, a stone building surrounded by palisades.”
Then came the war of 1812 when the American fleet suddenly appeared off the Upper Gap and shots were interchanged with the shore. But Kingston remained unhurt. Her fortifications were growing. At this time appeared those fascinating block houses, of which only one remains. These block houses constituted a cordon of defense round the town and were connected by a high stockade. They were all of the same pattern; two stories high, the upper stories slightly projecting, and were armed with carronades.
After the war of 1812 this was the military centre for Upper Canada, and possessed a garrison, a resident Commandant, and a leisure class of military officers and their families. Hence of course social life and ambition. As far back as 1816 we find records of “a large wooden Government House and Theatre built by the Military,” of balls and parties, of “coloured gauzes and laces,” of “Waterloo sarcenets” and “Wellington bombazines.” Horse racing became a favorite amusement with the officers, and at the entertainments which followed, “the loyal dames of Kingston [page 49] would appear in brilliant dresses with threads of silver forming the motto, ‘God save the King.’” Could patriotism go farther!
The original St. George’s Cathedral, begun in 1794, was described by a visitor in 1820 as “A long, low, blue building with square windows and a little cupola or steeple for the bell, like the thing on a brewery, placed on the wrong end of the building.” The first building on the present site was begun in 1825, afterwards enlarged, destroyed by fire in 1898, then rebuilt with only the stone pillars on the southern façade belonging to the original building. In the vault of the Church was buried Lord Sydenham, a tablet in the present Cathedral commemorating his memory.
But before this Church, came the Military Barracks, in 1789, known as Tête du Pont, which stands on the site of the original Fort Frontenac. Here, as within the area of the more modern Military College (a youthful affair opened so late as 1875) the mere dates do not count when one stands upon ancient ground where long-forgotten causes were fought out before the white men came from France or England, old wars that out date memory.
In the modern Cathedral of St. George there hangs from the Cadets’ Gallery, a great flag covered with stars for the fallen in the Great War. Laughing faces [page 50] of boys arise, vanished in the old cause of freedom that lured their forefathers to this very spot.
Kingston has had some strange karma to work out. Always she has desired military and national power. Always, in spite of great natural resources and gifts, these things have been denied her. But in the year 1841, when she became the temporary seat of Government for the United Provinces of Upper and Lower Canada—an honour soon withdrawn—Queen’s University was incorporated. It struggled at first for a bare existence, because all suitable buildings had been taken over for the Administrative purposes of the Government. Its first classes were conducted in a small frame building on Princess Street.
Now the University is the real centre and glory of Kingston.
A far cry from the old swashbuckler days, the romance of Indian and French intrigue, the knavish fur trade, the wild escapades of smugglers, the delightful arrogance and amours of early British military life, to the deep-thoughted Presbyterianism that has, through seven decades, meant Queen’s. It is as if a quiet pool had been set in the midst of a town that was listening to the call of rushing rapids near by, and the quiet of the pool had gradually stilled the call of the rapids. It is a cool but perhaps a kindly fate. [page 51]
The system of Martello towers which guard the harbour and city are patterned after those of the 16th Century in Europe and were begun nearly three decades after the block houses. The oldest of them still lacks a few years of the century mark but they look as if they had been there forever, and are a distinctive and beautiful feature of Kingston. Again the note of gray! The lovely Shoal Tower, in the harbour, stands as one writer has said, “its feet in the blue waters of the lake,” like some remembrance from the long ago. So the Murney Tower in Macdonald Park, where, amid large trees and facing the lake is a statue to that great son of Kingston, Sir John A. Macdonald.
The Royal Military College was founded by the Mackenzie Government. Point Frederick, so long associated with the early Naval depot, became the site of the buildings. The Cadets have for years lent a stirring colour to Kingston life.
Interesting old houses abound. One goes about the streets wondering who lived here and there, for many of the stone exteriors have that about them which at once awakens interest and a certain quality of suspense that is the hall-mark of fascination. Many of these places were undoubtedly the abode of gentlefolk of British tradition. The history of most is lost but that of a few we know. “Alwington House,” for instance, [page 52] was built by the fourth Baron Le Moyne de Longueuil; it was the residence of the Governors-General of Canada for a time. Lord Sydenham lived there in 1841, Sir Charles Bagot and Sir Charles Metcalfe succeeded him. “Rockwood Cottage” was built by the father of Sir Richard Cartwright, and on Rideau Street East stands the house in which Sir John A. Macdonald spent most of his boyhood, while nearly opposite, overlooking the river, is another historic abode, once occupied by Molly Brant, the sister of Joseph Brant, the Mohawk Chief.
The lover of literary reminiscence will seek out the remains of an ancient cemetery at the end of Clergy [page 53] Street where was buried an officer of the British Army, a brother of Felicia Hemans, the English Poetess. In 1825 she writes in “Graves of a Household”: |
Tom Moore was also a notable visitor in Kingston. In the edition of his poems published in 1855 he describes the writing of his famous “Canadian Boat Song” on the St. Lawrence between Kingston and Montreal, a journey which then took five days, “exposed to an intense sun, and at night forced to take shelter from the dews in any miserable hut upon the banks that would receive us.” Moore adds that the magnificent scenery of the St. Lawrence repays all such difficulties.
Miss Agnes Maule Machar, novelist, historian and poet, a daughter of the Rev. John Machar, D.D., second Principal of Queen’s University, in “The Story of old Kingston,” refers to the first Canadian novel published in the English language as “St. Ursula’s Convent, or the Nun of Canada.” It was written by Mrs. George Hart and published in Kingston in 1824.
Charles Sangster was born in 1822 and was the first Canadian to use the material all about him in [page 54] poetry. He was followed by Charles Mair, a student of Queen’s, whose poems were published in 1868. His Indian drama “Tecumseh,” written in blank verse in lines imbued with the splendour of the early days, will always be a work of importance to Canadians.
To-day upspringing shafts of elevators and spires predominate the gray batteries and the sixteenth century towers. Long iron rails stretch endlessly east and west. Yet they hardly touch a city that was born, and continues to be, a Port, a child of sleepy waterways whom commerce has failed to allure. For the ancient Seigniory of Cataraqui still holds a dream which time has made tranquil but never really disturbed. [page 55] |
