David Stirton Memoirs
The material for the following article was contributed
by David Stirton and the article itself was composed by Kate Conway for the
regular column, “Pioneer Days in
Pioneer Days in
Famine of 1835—History of the First Grist---
A Go Double
Cart—The Irishman’s Barrel—A Pioneer Lunch
“Here’s tae us!
Wha’s like us!
To the kindness
of Mr. Stirton, the Mercury readers are indebted for the following sketches.
Famine of 1835
In August of
1835 came a severe frost that destroyed all the wheat crops north of Galt,
except a few strips here and there at the edges of the fields in the shelter
of the woods. Following the frost came
a wet season that caused the wheat to grow, so that it was impossible to
secure pure flour.
from the grown flour would rise beautifully.
When lifted from the bake-kettle it was a fine, tempting looking loaf,
but when set on the table, it would spread out like batter. As a proof of its consistency, Mr. Stirton
relates that when a handful of it was thrown at the wall it would stick there
in a manner quite unexpected in bread.
From a farm
of fifty acres in Puslinch, on which was raised a fine looking crop of wheat,
not a single loaf of bread was secured.
Deacon Potter secured a large crop before the rains came on. He had it ground into flour at Galt, drove
it up to Fergus, where there was a new settlement, and sold it there for
fifteen dollars a barrel.
south, in Brant and
The First Grist
history of the first grist taken to the mill from this part of the country
are woven some details of family history, full of interest and showing the
struggles and difficulties which the early settlers met and overcame with
boundless ingenuity and never-failing courage.
of whom Mr. Stirton tells, made a start in the woods, as many another did,
with very little cash. The father was
ill for six months with the ague.
Without being asked, a number of the neighbours gathered together, and
without oxen, cleared and logged about two acres so that the mother and
children were able to burn it.
son, a lad of twelve years, went up to Woolwich, now Pilkington, and worked for
two weeks with “Yank” Millar to get enough wheat and the use of the oxen to
sow the two acres which had been cleared.
The wheat was brought down on a crutch. The lad contrived a wooden harrow with
wooden teeth, of which he was afterwards so ashamed that he threw it on a
pile of burning brushwood. By the
means of this primitive harrow, eked out by a liberal use of the hoe, the
wheat was put in.
When the crop
was taken from the fields there was no barn and the wheat was stacked. A platform was made of basswood planks cut
with an axe alone. The bedclothes were
hung around this platform to keep the wheat from flying away while it was
being threshed out with a flail. After
being threshed, it was cleaned by riddles in the open air, the wind carrying
away the chaff. The precious harvest
was then stored in the house, ready for the mill.
There was a
little pepper-mill at Miller’s Creek to which a few bags were taken. “A hen and a clutch of chicks”, said Mr.
Stirton, “could eat as fast as that mill could grind,” so this grist was by
some means to be brought to Erb’s mill, where
stands the present
and variety of the trading system is shown in the history of this grist. The owners of the wheat had a fine lot of
maple sugar which Jack Foster, a shoemaker, desired to purchase. A Hielandman owed
Foster for a pair of boots, and it was agreed that the Hielandman
should take the wheat to the mill in payment of the sugar given to Foster.
precious in those days and the owners thought it well to keep the hard-earned
grist in sight. One of the lads
accompanied the Hielandman, who was charging twenty
cents per bushel to carry it. They had
started down the
was then strongly urged to fulfill his part of the bargain. A yoke of oxen and a cart were secured and
Tom Armstrong and the lad again started the wheat on its journey.
The oxen were
soft and unfit for the trip and fagged out completely on the return
journey. They lay down repeatedly,
each time being raised by the drivers.
At last, they would not rise, but knowing the fear an ox has of a dog,
the driver threw the dog at the heads of the oxen, and with a waul of fear, they lumbered up and went on. By throwing the dog at the oxen some twenty
miles on the return trip, the flour was finally brought to
of the rest of that wheat is a story by itself. There was still about eight bushels of it
left. It was decided to take it to
Shade’s mill, the site of the present town of
“I had a
little ingenuity in those days”, said Mr. Stirton, “and I contrived a go
double cart.” Now a go double cart is
a thing that cannot be likened to anything in the heaven above nor the earth beneath.
The wheels were solid circular sections of wood cut from an elm
tree. In the centre of these wheels
were cut square holes in which the axles were placed so that the axle moved
with the wheel. A crib was used for a
body, the bed resting on the axles.
The marvellous structure was completed with a tongue, and with this
vehicle and the steers, the father and the son set out for Galt, which by
nursing the strength of the bit beasties, they reached.
It was the
day of the raising of the first addition to Shade’s mill, but that raising stopped as if something had struck it, when
steers, go double cart, and drivers appeared on the scene. The men shouted and laughed as they
examined the cart, while the owner and maker thereof calmly remarked: “Come
The wheat was
ground and the father and the son returned, spending a night in the woods
between Hespeler and
Irishman named Edmundson, living in Puslinch, went
These are the
days of electric cars and palatial hotels, but the glory still rests upon the
pioneer days, when a lad thought nothing of setting out upon a forty mile
walk through woods so silent that he could hear the beating of his own
heart. A bag slung over his shoulder
held a large round loaf of bread, in the centre of which he had scooped a
hole and inserted a piece of butter.
He had no thought of hardship as he ate his bread and butter and
washed it down with a drink of water from the brook.
The article above appeared in the remarkable
scrapbooks of Herbert Fairbairn Gardiner, volume
36, pages 215-219. As of May 2003, the
Gardiner scrapbooks could be viewed in the Special Collections Department of
Mr. Herbert Fairbairn Gardiner
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