Tag Archives: 7th line

The Mystery of Cross Keys Part 2

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The Mystery of Cross Keys Part 2

On Sunday at Beckwith; the people in an old shanty that was in such a state of ruin that cats and dogs could pass between the logs; and they will neither repair nor provide firewood lest it might make the minister comfortable. And they are seeking a new one from Scotland. Six months later, he records in his diary: “I set out for Beckwith to aid Mr. Buchanan at Sacrament. The barn and all it contained had been burned. This had been used for a church and was erected by the congregation. No steps had been taken to rebuild anything. On Saturday I preached in an old shanty: and the Sunday services, which began at eleven o’clock and lasted till four o’clock in the afternoon, were held in an open field near by, the people having erected a tent for preaching in, using logs in parallel lines for seats.

One hundred umbrellas were used to protect from the sun’s rays. During these years the Buchanans endured many of the discomforts of pioneer life. Long afterward the youngest of the children published under the title “The Pioneer Pastor,” her recollections of her father’s pastorate in Beckwith. She describes the hardships borne by these men from the High lands. Harvesting was beginning when her family arrived. Cutting grain with the old-fashioned sickle and scythe on ground dotted thickly with stumps was slow, wearisome work.

Reaping machines, mowing machines, horse rakes and other labor-saving implements now in vogue to lighten the task and multiply a hundred-fold the efficiency of the farmer had not yet been evolved. A cumbrous plow, hard to pull and harder to guide, a V-shaped harrow, alike heavy and unwieldy, a clumsy sled, home-made rakes weighty as iron and sure to blister the hands of the user, forked-stick pitch-forks, and gnarled flails certain to raise bumps on the heads, of unskilled threshers, with two or three scythes and sickles, represented the average farm equipment. Not a grist-mill, saw-mill, factory, shop, school-house, post-office, chimney or stove to be found in Beckwith in those earliest days of its settlement.

Two arm-chairs, made for Dr. and Mrs. Buchanan by Donald Kennedy, were the first in the township. Sawed boards, shingles and plastered walls were luxuries. Split logs furnished the materials for benches, tables, floors and roofs. The first year men carried flour and provisions on their backs from Perth and Brockville. Families subsisted for months on scanty fare. Their homes were shanties, chinked between the logs with wood and mud, often without a window, cold in winter, stifling in summer, uncomfortable always. A hole in the roof let out such smoke as happened to travel in its direction.

And the women bore more than their share of the burden. Besides their care of house and children they worked in the fields all spring and summer, burning brush, logging, planting and reaping. Much of the cooking, washing and mending was done before dawn or after dark while the men slept peacefully. At noon they prepared dinner, ate a bite hastily and hurried back to drudge until the sun went down. Then they got supper, put the youngsters to bed, patched, darned and did a multitude of chores. For them, toiling to better the conditions of their loved ones, never striking for higher wages, sixteen hours of constant labor was a short day. No respite, no vacation, nothing but hard work.

The Sabbath was the one breathing-spell in the week. Autumn and winter only varied the style of work. The women carded wool with hand-cards and spun it on small wheels, for stocking-yarn and the weaver’s loom. Knitting was an endless task by the light of the hearth fire or the feeble flicker of a tallow-dip; and everybody wore homespun.

Threshing wheat and oats wth the flail employed the men until good sleighing came. Then the whole neighborhood would go in company to Bytown—now Ottawa— to market their produce. Starting at midnight the line of ox-sleds would reach Richmond about daylight, stop an hour to vest and feed, travel all day and be at Bytown by dark. Next day they’would sell their grain, buy a few necessary articles, travel all night to Richmond and be home the third evening.

At one time fifteen wolves walked past the Buchanan yard, heading for the sheep pen. R attling tin pans and blowing a horn frightened them off. On another occasion two of the girls, going to see a sick woman, were assailed by a fierce wolf on the way back. “He followed us some distance,” says the chronicler, “grew bolder, ran up and took a bite out of my dress, almost pulling me down. My loud exclamation,

‘Begone, you brute,’ and clapping our hands put the impudent fellow to flight. We skipped home in short metre, regardless of sticks, stones and mud holes.

Unhappily, the relations between the old Minister and some of his congregation became, in time, less cordial. Most of the members before coming to Canada had been in communion with the established Church of Scotland—the Auld Kirk. Dr. Buchanan was an adherent of the Secession Church, and strongly opposed to anything like union of Church and State. Besides, after ten years in this rough, new charge, old age was making him less, able to meet all the claims of his scattered congregation.

There was urgent need of a new church building. That enterprise brought to a head all the dissensions and discontent which had been brewing. At first logs were taken out to erect a better church. They lay unused. Finally in 1832 it was determined to put up a stone building. When the walls were nearing completion a meeting of the congregation was called and Dr. Buchanan was requested to join the Auld Kirk (the Established Church) if he expected to preach in the new edifice.

One of his daughters has left her account of what followed, and, whether strictly accurate or not, it is vivid and touching. She writes: “Always a seceder, opposed to the union of church and state, my father positively declined to give up his honest convictions. He asked if they found any fault with his preaching or conduct; all answered, “No, none whatever.” Father then reminded them of his long and arduous services. He said: “I have preached in the open air, in wretched cabins, and in cold school rooms. I have taught day school for years without receiving one penny for my labor. I have spent stormy nights and weary days visiting the pick and dying, walking through swamps and paths that no horse could travel, without any charge for my medical services. Now you wish me, when you propose to have a comfortable house of worship, to sell my principles. That I shall never do. The God that has brought me thus far is able to keep me to the end, and my trust, is in Him.”

These words moved not a few to tears. Others, determined to have their way, continued the discussion. ‘If you join the Kirk,” one man shouted, “you will get into the new building; if you don’t you will eat thin kale.” Father replied to this coarse assault in the language of the Psalmist—“I have been young and now I am old, yet give I never seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed, begging bread.” Several of the leaders said: “We were born in the Kirk and we will die in the Kirk.” Some protested against the proceedings. But the opponents of the old minister prevailed, and by the time the stone church was completed, the new minister Rev. John Smith, arrived to occupy its pulpit.

At his own home Dr. Buchanan continued to hold services for the few who were loyal to him; but his bodily strength was, failing, and even th a t small rem nant dwindled away. Two or three years passed, and death claimed him in the 74th year of his age and the 45th of his ministry. He was buried in the old Craig Street cemetery at Perth. Rev. Mr. Bell gave up his own plot there so that the remains of the old clergyman might rest near those of his eldest daughter, Mrs. John Ferguson.

At the new stone church, under the faithful service of Rev. Mr. Smith, there was peace and progress for some years. Then came that conflict which led to the “Disruption” in the Established Church in Scotland, the history of which is familiar. There was an unselfish and heroic side to the fight against the claims of ‘Heritors’ and other secular powers to force Ministers into the charge of Churches against the wishes of the congregation. Almost four hundred ministers walked out of the General Assembly of the Church, protesting against this interference in Church matters by secular powers. They knew that in so doing they were sacrificing their comfortable manses, their glebes and their assured stipends. In cold cash this meant a yearly loss equivalent to more th an $1,000,000 today.

From that sacrifice and secession arose the Free Church of Scotland. The conflict on the principle involved spread to Canada. They took their Church politics seriously, those Presbyterians of a century ago.

How the Beckwith Scotch Turned Defeat into Victory

Tales of Beckwith — Edward Kidd 11 Years Old

The Man who Disappeared– Stories of Dr. G. E. Kidd

The Spirit of the 7th Line

The Beckwith Baptist Church

The Gnarled Beckwith Oak

So Where is that Gnarled Oak in Beckwith?

The Manse on the 7th Line of Beckwith

Update on The Manse in Beckwith

Beckwith Mystery — Anyone Remember a Meteor Coming Down on the 7th Line?

A Trip Along the Ramsay Sixth Line –W.J. Burns

The Haunted Canoe from the Jock River

The Mystery of Cross Keys –Part 1

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The Mystery of Cross Keys –Part 1

Church cross keys

Four miles beyond Carleton Place on the Franktown highway is an interesting road which the old timers called the “Cross Keys.” It is the line between the sixth and seventh concessions of the township of Beckwith. It runs easterly, a mile or so between quiet homesteads; then comes to a dead end. A heavy cedar log fence bars further progress. There, inside the farm fence, near the roadside, are the crumbling walls of a ruined church.No one knows why they calledit Cross Keys but the corner was once called Ladies Corners.

Their story may interest those who love the records of old times in our county of Lanark. In 1819 some hundreds of Highland Scots, mostly from Perthshire, sailed from their home land in the ships Sophia, Curlew and Jean, and settled in the township of Beckwith. It is fairly certain that the last stage of their journey from Montreal was by way of Nepean and the new road through Richmond Village which the foxbitten Duke of that name had planned.

It led to Franktown—named after Col. Francis Cockburn, companion on that walk from Perth to Richmond Village which ended so tragically in the Duke’s death from hydrophobia in Chapman’s shanty near the Richmond road. Today a cairn at the roadside reminds the passer-by of that strange death of one of Canada’s governors. read-The Haunted Canoe from the Jock River

The new settlers were located in the usual way, and entered into the hard but hopeful life of settlers in the Upper Canada bush. Twenty miles of swamp and forest separated them from Perth, the capital of a community of retired army officers and discharged soldiers, and of Scotch immigrants, mostly of the mechanic class.

There, since 1817, Rev. William Bell had ministered to a Presbyterian congregation, and from that centre had travelled far and wide on missionary journeys. After the arrival of the Beckwith highlanders, he went there occasionally to preach and to baptize the children. He urged them to get a minister of their own, and prepared a petition to the Presbytery in Edinburgh for this purpose. He wrote, in 1820, enclosing this petition:—

“The petitioners are mostly from Perthshire. A minister who can preach in Gaelic will be very comfortable A fine gentleman’ will not suit the people here. A plain, pious and diligent minister is the one they want. A bond I sent to them has been returned with 54 names subscribed, each of them pledging two bushels of wheat yearly. Money for the last twelve months has almost disappeared, so that barter is the only means by which business can be transacted. People have now, however, plenty to eat.

Disputes on the subject of the KIRK have not yet been introduced among us. In the fall of 1821 the Beckwith people formally asked the Presbytery of Edinburgh to send them a Minister. A ‘Call’ was prepared, signed by nearly all the adults and forwarded in due course to Scotland. This interesting document stipulated that the man chosen must be:

“Of Godly carriage” and conversation, well qualified to expound the Scriptures, gifted in prayer, SKILLED IN THE PRACTICE OF MEDICINE, and able to preach in Gaelic and English. For one who could satisfy these requirements the congregation would guarantee a yearly stipend of £75, about $300 in 1821. The call was answered and Rev. George Buchanan, a graduate in medicine of Edinburgh University and Licentiate of the Associated (Presbyterian) Synod consented to come to this rough field of labor in the new world.

His daughter writes of him that—“Although sixty years old his eye was not dimmed nor his natural strength abated. Gaelic and English he spoke with equal readiness, while scarcely less familiar with Latin, Greek and Hebrew. Of medium height and compact build, vigorous in mind and body, brisk in movement and pleasing in address. With his wife and ten children he sailed from Greenock in May, 1822, in the good ship the Earl of Buckinghamshire which had in previous years brought out hundreds of settlers for North Lanark. An ocean voyage of 38 days brought the travellers to Quebec. Thence part of the route was by water; and many a weary mile by land over roads and through swamps almost impassable.

From Brockville the tiring journey in wagons heavily loaded with furniture and supplies lasted alnost a week, ending at Franktown. McKim’s log tavern and three shanties in a patch of half cleared ground made up that so called village. More than one of the younger Buchanans tearfully begged their parents to be taken back to Scotland. No abode awaited them.

James Wall, a big-hearted Irishm and not a Presbyterian—offered them the use of a small log shack he had just put up; and in it the new Minister’s family lived for six weeks. It had one room, and neither door nor window. Quilts and blankets served as doors and partitions. Cooking was done on the flat stone which served as a hearth in the fireplace. More smoke stayed inside than found its way out. Millions of mosquitoes and black flies added to their discomfort. Wolves prowled around the house in the darkness, uttering dismal howls.

Their first Sabbath was clear and bright and a crowd gathered from far and near to the open air service. A huge tree had been cut down, the stump of which, sawed off straight, sufficed for a pulpit. First in English; then, after an intermisson, in Gaelic, Mr. Buchanan preached to his congregation. And aged men and women, not a few, shed tears of joy to hear the gospel again in the language of their native glens.

Children baptised at that time bore names still familiar in the district:

Peter Stewart, James McDiarmid, Alexander Campbell, Daniel Ferguson, Robert Scott, Mary Carmichael, Janet Cram: These appear on the first page of the Church Register of baptisms. And the congregation was Scottish through and through: Carmichael, Kennedy, Dewar, Ferguson, Stewart, Anderson, McGregor, McEwen, Cram, McArthur, McTavish, Snclair, McLaren are characteristic names among the heads of families which composed th at congregation of one hundred and fifteen years ago

Dr. Buchanan selected for his home lot 14 in the 7th Concession of Beckwith—on the road known as the Cross Keys. The family lived six weeks in Wall’s shack. Then, harvesting finished, the people turned out in force, cut logs, and built a large shanty for their minister. They roofed it with troughs, laid a big flat stone against the wall for a chimney, left a space at the ridge for smoke to escape, smoothed one side of split logs for the floor, and put in a door and two windows.

There was no lumber for partitions, so curtains were used to divide the interior. And this was the Beckwith Manse for about a year. That winter men were hired to clear some of the land and take out timber for a new house which was ready by September, 1823. It had plank floors, a stone chimney, several rooms and a cellar.

A rude building had been put up for church services. For years there was ” little” improvement in this respect.

Today all that remains is a sign hidden by the trees and the remains of scattered stone.

The Spirit of the 7th Line

The Beckwith Baptist Church

The Gnarled Beckwith Oak

So Where is that Gnarled Oak in Beckwith?

The Manse on the 7th Line of Beckwith

Update on The Manse in Beckwith

Beckwith Mystery — Anyone Remember a Meteor Coming Down on the 7th Line?

A Trip Along the Ramsay Sixth Line –W.J. Burns

The Haunted Canoe from the Jock River

Thanks to Donna she sent some more info on our cover photo today. Know your ancestors thanks to Donna Mcfarlane
This is the Rev. James Carmichael who preached one of the last sermons at the old church on the Beckwith Township 7th line….mentioned in one of your articles
jhe preached at the seventh line of Beckwith as a visiting minister,,,,, he was at the church in the photo for over 50 years it is a community called Strange in York…
The on line pamphlet regarding his 50 years as minister to that church… and on pager 43 it refers to his place of birth as Beckwith

Beckwith Mystery — Anyone Remember a Meteor Coming Down on the 7th Line?

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Beckwith Mystery — Anyone Remember a Meteor Coming Down on the 7th Line?

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Adam Millar sent me this yesterday:

Hello, just wondering if you have ever seen historical records of a meteor in the Carleton Place area. My friend’s father told her of the huge hole he filled in his field and in the middle was a large meteorite (about the size of a small soccer ball – approx 60lbs).
Pretty sure she said his father had cursed the depression it left in his field. Farm is located on the highway (15 or 29 or whatever it is these days) and 7th line Beckwith. This would have been a huge fireball and likely very loud by the size of the meteorite. Thanks! -Adam
Well Adam, I found two instances but let’s ask our readers what they can remember and gather some comments. Here are my suggestions…
 May 26, 1957
November 1964

From Jim Mahoney– thanks to Glenda Mahoney

Hi Linda. It came from the east and went straight down the townline road high above the treeline. There were very few houses there so he had an unrestricted view. It was a bright neon green colour with a tail behind it almost like a comet or shooting star. . It was huge. It made no sound. It was glowing as bright as the sun. He could see it coming for what seemed like a long time and watched it until it disappeared towards Perth. It appeared to stay perfectly level. Straight shot down the Townline Road.—Jim also said that he waited for somebody to mention this glowing neon green sphere but nobody did. Nobody talked about it and he was quite surprised that there was no big fuss made about such an amazing thing so he eventually just forgot about it. He had told me about it a few times over the years and when I saw your article I told him about it. Once again my Linda clears up a mystery. Jim is thrilled u printed the story about it. He has always wondered why there was never a big deal made out of it. It is a very satisfying conclusion to his personal mystery.

relatedreading

The Spirit of the 7th Line

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The Spirit of the 7th Line

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Photo Source below: Carleton Saga, by Harry and Olive Walker, page 507. Does anyone have a photograph of the original building? From Bytown.net

A landmark to the Church of Kirk of Beckwith that is no longer with us. The stone church called “The Church of the Cross Keys” was built in 1832, replacing a log church building. It served the first two Canadian generations of the first large settlement of Gaelic-speaking Scottish Highlanders in the district of Upper Canada north of the Rideau River.

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Joann Voyce sent us this newspaper photo–thanks Joann!

The 7th line is a dead end if you look at Google Maps. “They’d be walking to this church. They didn’t have horses back then,” said Reeve Richard Kidd. “They’d have to cross the Jock River and swamp and they had to do that in their bare feet because they would only have one pair of shoes.”

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The photo below is what the dead end of the 7th line looks like today. Kind of hard to imagine church folks walking that kind of mileage and in rough conditions, but they did. It was originally a log building centrally located on the 7th concession and there were separate entrances for men and women, but the building burnt and was replaced in 1832.

 

Below is what “The Church of the Cross Keys” looks like today. An enclosed cairn with a view of the remnants of a foundation of once what was. Scattered stones follow the lines of the foundation but part of the stone made its way to Franktown United Church for its construction.

Clipped from The Ottawa Journal,  11 Jun 1966, Sat,  Page 44

Today I stood there and became overwhelmed at once was and wished I could have spent one hour back in time. I wanted to meet the people that are now just spirits among the building ruins behind the cairn, which is all that remains behind the pioneer landmark that Reverend  Buchanan was never allowed to preach in. This is something every family in Lanark County should make sure their children see and remember the story.

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historicalnotes

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Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun andScreamin’ Mamas (USA)

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

relatedreading

 

History Still Lives on at The McEwen House in Beckwith

The Gnarled Beckwith Oak

So Where is that Gnarled Oak in Beckwith?

The Manse on the 7th Line of Beckwith

Update on The Manse in Beckwith

What do you Know about the Prince of Wales Cairn?

Home and Garden Before Home and Garden Magazine

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Know your ancestors thanks to Donna Mcfarlane

This is the Rev. James Carmichael who preached one of the last sermons at the old church on the Beckwith Township 7th line….mentioned in one of your articles– Have you read The Spirit of the 7th Line?

History Still Lives on at The McEwen House in Beckwith

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History Still Lives on at The McEwen House in Beckwith

 

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1974

 

It took seven long years for the McEwen’s to build this stone house on the 7th line, about a half mile west of Highway 29. Made of local limestone it has a centre door way with Cross and Bible panels, sidelights, and a square fanlight at the top. Directly over the door is proudly marked 1873, the day that the house was finally completed.

Set in a grove of lovely trees the house has a snake fence separating it from the roadway and at the rear there was once barns, a stable, a tack house and a drive shed. The house that remained in the family for decades was one of the finest homes in Beckwith at one point.

 

 

 

The dining room has a ‘dado’ once known as a chair rail, and all the rooms were finished as it was truly a house of distinction with a boxed staircase located in the centre hall. The kitchen has an interesting porthole window facing West and recessed windows are all panelled and have bubble glass panes. Beamed ceilings, golden ash woodwork, and pegged floors grace the  house as well as matching doors throughout with 6 panels and enamelled doorknobs.

That large staircase carried the feet of a family that led upwards to three bedrooms complete with floors made of Balsam Poplar or Balm of Gilead. It was once a popular tree as it also had medicinal properties of balsam poplar that lie in the winter buds. These are black, upright and sticky, and are strongly aromatic and if chewed taste tarry and hot.

It is not surprising that the buds also contain and are covered with waxy resins, terpenes and phenolics with disinfectant properties.  It is among the fastest growing trees in Canada, up to a foot each year, especially when young. The trees are short-lived, normally up to about 100 years, but used as flooring like this home it can give a golden glow to the atmosphere of the home.

The former ell and woodshed was converted in the 70s by Eve and Peter Levers who bought the home from Clarence McEwen. Today the house is still there with a few minor changes.

When I had to turn either red or left on Highway 29; it was a no brainer, and I immediately felt drawn to the left. It was the right move as sure enough, barely half a mile now the road, was the McEwen home. It was set back farther than what I had originally thought and thought of living there the long cold winters in this secluded area. In fact I could still see in my mind “Bossin’ Billy” McEwen Muirhead trudging down the road after another argument with her husband with her coat hem blowing in the wind.

The barns were no longer there, but the property was well maintained and looked loved. That’s all that mattered to me, the history of the McEwen house still lives on– and that’s what counts.

 

 

historicalnotes

 

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Jayne Munro-Ouimet–Hi Linda, Here is another McEwen house in Beckwith.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun andScreamin’ Mamas (USA)

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

 

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The House of Daughters –Stonecroft House

Update on The Manse in Beckwith

The Manse on the 7th Line of Beckwith

Home and Garden Before Home and Garden Magazine

The James Black Homestead

The Mysterious Riddell— H B Montgomery House

The Wall Mysteries of Lake Ave East -Residential Artists

The Manse on the 7th Line of Beckwith

Rescuing the Money Pits —The Other Dunlop Home with the Coffin Door

The Carleton Place House with the Coffin Door

Before and After in Carleton Place –The Doctor is in!

Heh Miss Wilsonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn! Carleton Place Heroe

Was This the Architect of the Findlay Homes on High Street?

The Carleton Place House That Disappeared

The McCarten House of Carleton Place

Old McRostie Had a Farm in Carleton Place

Time Capsule in the ‘Hi Diddle Day’ House?

The Louis on Sarah Street for $43,500 — Before and After– Architecture in Carleton Place

Memories of Mississippi Manor

Day in the Life of a 70’s Pattie Drive Home – The Stay at Home Mom Era

Architecture Stories: The Hotel that Stompin’ Tom Connors Saved

Dim All The Lights — The Troubled Times of the Abner Nichols Home on Bridge Street

The Brick Houses of Carleton Place

So What Happened to The Findlay House Stone?

The Stanzel Homes of Carleton Place

The Appleton Chinchilla House

 

 

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