The following account was written by David James Watson.
Just
a few of the highlights of our trip to Manitoba in the spring of 1879.
Departure from Elma, Ontario
We left Millbank station in the township of Elma in Perth County along with a
number of families coming to Manitoba, where my father [James Watson jr.] and
my oldest brother [Robert] had taken homesteads & pre-emptions in the
summer of 1878 on Sec 32 TP15R15 six miles north of where the thriving town of
Neepawa now stands. At that time it was wild land, but now our old homestead is
known as the Dables brothers’ farm.
In the summer of 1878 my
father and brother got some land broken up and some log buildings up, and in
the winter of 1878 my father came back to Ontario to make the arrangements for
moving the rest of our family to our new home in the west.
On the Train
The train being of considerable length, the car with the stock wasn’t near the
coaches we were in. So when the train would stop to take on water, my brother
Solomon, a lad of fourteen, would get off the coach and run to the stock car to
milk the cows. Then the next time the train stopped he would get off the stock
car and come back with the milk.
The train was made up of several cars of settlers’ effects besides the
coaches, which made a train of considerable length. One dark night, the
coupling on the car we were in broke and left us sitting on the track between
stations. My mother, being awake, wondered at the stop. On looking out she
could see no lights, so she sent a man back to find the conductor. He got men
with lanterns out each way along the track, as another train was nearly due.
When the train arrived at the next station with no train men aboard, it
caused considerable excitement. As they came back in search for us they were
afraid to speed in case they ran into us. Finally they spotted the signal
lights of the train crew. They hitched onto the coach we were in. I can
remember the big red embers from the engine coming over our coach as the
fireman stoked the old engine, but there was no damage done.
So we finally arrived at St. Boniface on one of the first trains on the
newly laid steel between Emerson and St. Boniface. There being no railroad into
Winnipeg and no bridges across the river, we had to cross the river by
ferryboat.
Fort Garry
The government had a building on the Winnipeg side of the river about where the
CNR station now stands. The building was about 100 feet long. It was one story
with a partition down the centre and then divided into 12-foot rooms where the
new settlers could get temporary lodgings while getting organized for their
final destinations. There was a cookhouse on either side of this big building
to accommodate the people. Quite frequently a woman would put her kettle on the
stove and go back to her room for something else, to find on her return that
someone had set that kettle off and set hers on. Well, there were some Irish
women who didn’t approve of that way of doing business, so quite often there
was a fight. When they had demonstrated who was the best boxer, they would call
a Mr. Frost, who lived close by and was supposed to supervise the use of the
buildings. But if Mr. Frost got wise in time, he usually was absent. Well,
needless to say, it furnished amusement for a lot of us youngsters.
Fort Garry on the north side of the river was in good repair at that
time and had a stone fence enclosing quite a sized piece of land. The fort had
what we youngsters called “peek holes” to shoot through if attacked by Indians.
There was another old landmark on the north side of the river, a red building,
which I was told was a grist mill. The fort was a favorite place for us
youngsters to play while the men folk were getting ready for the journey west.
There being too much freight to load in the wagons and carts, part of the stuff
was sent to Portage on the old stern wheeler boat that used to follow the river
to Brandon.
Mud on the Trail
Well, we finally got started west, so in the absence of better roads we
followed the south Red River Cart trail, which crossed the sand hills north of
Carberry. The season being very rainy, we had to cross many bad waterholes.
Some places at a really deep creek, a homesteader would build a bridge of poles
and stay there all day and charge for each wagon, cart, or loose animal that
crossed. Other places the men would wade through to see how deep the water and
mud was, then they would hitch two teams to each wagon and try their luck. If
they got stuck in the mud, the men would carry the children and some of the
women to dry ground, and then carry part of the load, then take logging chains
and if the chains were too short to reach solid ground, they would take poles
and notch the ends of the poles so the chains wouldn’t slip off, and in that
way draw the wagons out. The oxen being better in mud than horses, usually got
through by having some of the men help by lifting on the spokes in the wheels.
The mosquitoes were so thick one could scarcely see through them. When the
women fried meat in the evenings, the mosquitoes would come to the fire, their
wings would scorch, and they would drop in the frying pan. The grease would
scarcely run out of the pan.
Arrival in the Wilderness
Well, we finally reached our new home on the 7th of June, 1879, with three
youngsters sick with measles, after being on the road 23 days. It was no
pleasure trip for my mother, to say the least.
Neighbors were scarce at that time. Sam Buchanan and his son John one
mile away, Bill Warnock 1 1/2 miles, Jim and John Coulter 2 miles south, Jonas
Potter 3 miles west. Gradually the settlers kept coming in. There being no
churches or schools, the missionaries had to hold services in settlers houses
and travel on horseback in the summer and by toboggan in winter time.
Pioneering
There being no local stores to get supplies at, my father had to draw supplies
from Portage and Winnipeg. The first winter we were in Manitoba he spent 42
days drawing supplies. My eldest sister came out in the fall of 1879 with her
family of three, so with our late arrival the previous spring, we had no
potatoes or vegetables.. It took a powerful lot of bread to feed such a
houseful, 15 in all. I remember once in particular, my sister Jenny, just a
girl in her teens, baked 100 pounds of flour between Friday morning and
Saturday night, which I think was rather a record with just a common cook stove
to cook in.
As time went on and more settlers came in, the settlers called a
meeting and set a day, and they went to the bush to get logs and built a
church, where all the settlers could attend like one big family.
Indians
Sometimes we would meet huge bands of Indians on the trail, and usually the
fellows with the most feathers in their headdress would be riding ponies at the
front of the caravan of fifty or more carts, with a pony hitched to each cart
with each pony tied to the preceding cart. usually three or four Indians were
riding along either side of the road, each with a long whip to keep the caravan
moving along. Once I remember seeing one of their ponies get stuck in a mud
hole and he refused to pull, so one of the Indians tied the pony’s tail to the
whiffletree, then he applied the whip. To the surprise of all of us white
folks, the pony pulled the cart out in that way.
Local Government
As time went on, the settlers decided to elect a council to look after the
business of the County of Beautiful Plains. The members of the first council
have all gone to their last resting place. The names of the first council as I
remember them were: Jonathan Hamilton*, reeve, William Curry, sec. Treasurer,
James Watson [the writer’s father], Peter Graham [brother to “Big Jim”], Thomas
Newton, John Honeyman, a Mr. Leatch I invite correction if this isn’t right.
A petition was later presented to the council asking that a trail be
opened from the Neepawa district to Dauphin, so a delegation was appointed to
see if a road could be made. The names of the councilors appointed follows:
James Watson, Wm. Gardiner, Peter Graham, Tom Newton. So they set out with ox
carts, tents, provisions, and several young men from the district went with along
in hopes of finding homesteads. They blazed a trail through bush in many
places, and followed gravel ridges where possible. Eventually they returned
with a satisfactory report that a trail could be made, which was later done.
Settlers used that route for several years. It was also used as a mail route to
Dauphin for several years.
Burned Out
In the early eighties the government passed a law making it legal for a man who
had taken out the deed for his first homestead to take out a second homestead.
So, in 1885, the year of the North West Rebellion, my father took a second
homestead on the SE of section 16TP18R15, near where the village of Riding
Mountain now stands. He built a house on it in 1886 and moved to it in the same
year. The nearest neighbor then was John Bare, three miles south, but again
neighbors soon began to come in. We had to do our shopping and draw our grain
or any other produce to Neepawa. Then in the summer of 1887, I homesteaded on
section 14T18R15. I worked out at $18.00 per month in the summer and $13.00 per
month in the lumber camp drawing saw logs in the winter. I finally built a
house and had it nicely furnished. I lived in it three months when it got
burned with all its contents, so I again was just worth the clothes I was wearing.
Mr. John Crawford, the implement dealer offered to supply me with what
implements I needed to get a new start, so with friends like that I made a new
start and got my debts paid.
I had some tough sledding at times, but I try to forget that and just
think of the many friends I have at Riding Mountain. [– David James Watson]
