Rondout resident, Nathaniel Booth, continues his journey to Canada & Niagara, 1865. Excerpted from his journal held at Syracuse University Libraries, Special Collections Unit.
(Drawing by Nathaniel Booth)
When our boat arrived in “Coburn” I instituted a search for the remains of our elder party, and found them extended in a state of helpless, and hopeless, misery on the floor of the lower cabin, mixed up with hats, coats, bonnets, hoops, skirts and other “wearing utensils,” masculine, feminine and neuter, belonging to other passengers in similar distress, but for awhile identity was nearly impossible.
We at last landed at “Port Hope” in safety, and only two to three hours beyond the regular time, after a terrible voyage, crossing all the way accross the line of the gale – Even the captain – crew, and chamber maids who make the trip daily were so ill as to be nearly helpless.
The sails were blown to ribbons – The sea broke over the lower decks every instant – barrels and boxes of freight got loose and dashed about, some going overboard, but the noble boat labored and her way despite the elements and finally brought safety to land her passengers and crew.
“God save the Queen”
For here we are in her dominions and under the protection of her majesty.
We were met at the landing by one of her representatives, a certain Mr. Lander to Custom House official of the port who in a very polite and most gentle manner asked for the keys of our trunks, which we immediately placed in his hands.
The trunks were opened according to law, but before a single article was touched Mr. Lander said in substance to us-Ladies and gentlemen duty obliges me to examine your effects-to open your trunks by force if necessary-all of which you know but do you pledge me your honor that they contain only ordinary clothing? nothing liable to duty?
Giving him this assurance the officer returned our keys without disturbing a single article of clothing, or any further investigation and with a bow, left us.
We were soon comfortable provided for at Hastings hotel, Port Hope, but had a sea sick night-the rolling motion of the Steamboat seemed to have been transferred to the house, the beds became berths, and in our half-awake dreams we were yet tossing upon Lake Ontario-and subjected to all its disagreeable consequences.
The morning fund us, or all that was left of us, not only well but ravenously hungry, so we ordered and dispatched a breakfast and a dinner at the same meal and at 10 o’clock left by RR for Peterborough where relatives of our friends reside.
This Rail Road is a single track, exceedingly rough, having steep grades, and very high and shakey tressle work-It has steep rocky embankments-frail bridges crossing deep ravines, with abrupt curves along suspicious sidings-The road is used principally in the lumber trade but is accommodating to all manner of business and particularly to passengers as the trains are stopped anywhere on signal, taking on or letting off travellers at their own pleasure which is of great advantage to sportsmen who can select the hunting grounds of the day and be landed at the spot chosen.
Port Hope is a half “Rule Brittania” and half “Hail Columbia” sort of a town, where John Bull and brother Jonathan fraternize in the items of trade, commerce, currency and domestic life, as is proper and neighborly in this great land of (not toleration) but absolute freedom, to “worship God according to the dictates of our own conscience.”
Still, this lovely 13th day of July 1865 we have seen at Coburn-see at Port Hope and expect to see at Peterborough all the colours-all the emblems of the Irish Orange party who celebrated their anniversary on yesterday.
The Engines-the cars-hotels-public buildings, even including the “post office”, and “telegraphic stations” are still decorated-or desecrated with “Orange” coloured emblems in the form of “flags,” “flowers”-“mottos,” “ribbons” and all the paraphernalia of that party.
A lady of the town who made up a buttonhole bouquet or two for us, felt obliged to make an apology for the want of variety, “because,” said she,”yesterday being our great celebration, we were obliged to gather every flower of orange colour for the arches, and the procession”-“Yesterday was the Twelfth of July you will please remember!!!”
Why should we remember that yesterday was the twelfth of July? Of what importance to us is the fact that William of Orange married Mary of England, and with their united forces obtained a victory over the Irish people, on this memorable day?
We have no interest in this event and have a right to object to the importation of these wretched party issues in this free Country.
That these rational-local-personal hatreds exist in Ireland is patent to every intelligent man, woman, or child upon the face of the earth wherever an Irishman “Orange” or “Green” can be found-That this feud is perpetuated-entailed-nourished and fed from generation to generation, and that they constantly lead to quarrels-bloodshed and ruin we have abundant evidence, and if the parties find pleasure and happiness in riot, confusion and broken heads, I for one see no just reason or cause for interference, or why this aggressive race of people should not thus enjoy themselves.
That is, in their own country-upon their own sod-But why bring their insane hatred, their bigotry, intolerance and national prejudices here-What care we in this country for the Orange or the Green? What interest have we in the 12th July or the 17th March that our peace should be disturbed by the religious discords, faction fights and bitter hatreds of this combative and most unhappy people?
My observations while in Canada stimulated by this “Orange” celebration and its effects on both classes of Irish exhibits this-That Canada being a British colony, under British rule, and up to within ten years owned by foreign landlords under the same barbarous feudal system as exists now in Ireland, it became the policy of government and the land owners to encourage immigration, and every inducement was held out to induce families to leave Ireland and settle in Canada.
The Squaredealer 