“Jamey”
A Tale of Pioneer Life
By John W. Gilchrist (A
biographical note follows the article.) |
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Jamey’s family was endowed with industrial
activity which they could not have inherited directly from him. His assertion that he had brought his
family from the |
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Jamey
could only play three tunes, but as one of these was the ever popular
“Soldier Joy”, which he played with such spirit as
to cause other deficiencies to be unnoticed.
To play this classic air properly requires three strings, the first
string being the most important and the most easily
broken. Neither could a substitute be
provided as was sometimes attempted with the other strings. When without the first string, as he
generally was, Jamey would only play the two other minor selections. Finally it dawned on his admirers that this
was a subtle hint to provide a first string; and as this was the only
recompense he expected, eager efforts were made to keep him supplied. There were difficulties, however. A long journey was required, altogether too
long for a man of Jamey’s leisurely disposition. Those who were obliged to make the journey
always brought back a string, but mistakes were often made and the community
had to suffer for the annoyance and disappointment of Jamey having an
oversupply of strings not required and no first string to play “Soldier Joy”. When he had a
complete set of strings he played so assiduously as to soon wear out the
first string. This led to the
practice, when a string was procured, of first
warning the neighbourhood so they could assemble and listen to “Soldiers’ Joy
to their hearts’ content before Jamey could wear out the string for his own
private enjoyment. |
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Then the fiddle began to develop the annoying
malady of becoming disconnected with itself.
Glue was even more difficult to provide than a string and much harder
to remember and Jamey, always patiently ingenious, was forced to the
expedient of wooden clamps and pitch.
Though this had a collective effect on the fiddle, it so injured the
tone that the instrument became scarcely audible. Some of the young men used to sail on the The stick or shaft was perfect but the hair
was from an ordinary animal. Proper
hair required conditions of horse life not likely to be secured in a bush
settlement, but if provided he would assure his benefactors that his music
would be worthy of the new fiddle.
When the resourceful sailors overcame this final difficulty it was
expected that Jamey would enlarge the variety of his selections, but this he
never did. He claimed that the musical
vigour with which he performed his three selections might be lessened by
adding to them and anything that would endanger the marvellous skill in
playing Soldiers’ Joy was not to be considered. |
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His audience was easily satisfied,
too well pleased with anything that would lift the forest loneliness from
their hearts to become critical. Many
a pleasant evening that otherwise would be gloomy enough was inspired by
Jamey and his fiddle. Jamey was very skilful with some tools,
especially a knife, but his skill was negatived by a utilitarian
patience that caused him to finish the most simple article much more
elaborately than was at all necessary.
So persistently patient was he that he could scarcely finish a rake in
time for use. Until they took the
matter into their own hands his hustling family never had a rake apiece. It was not idleness or want of application,
but an overparticularness that delayed the
completion. A promise of a fiddle
string when the article was completed only served to increase his zeal in
unnecessary polishing and scraping. He
had a monopoly on wooden articles that required to be steamed into
shape. Until roads were opened the
simple castings for the early plows were often
“packed” to where needed and the woodwork made and fitted by some local handy
man. For ploughing among fresh roots a
good hold, termed “purchase”, was required on the
handles. None could imitate the
serviceable curve Jamey could steam on the handles. |
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He could make a turkey wing cradle if given
unlimited time and the complicated curves of his snaths,
the long handle of a scythe, were marvels of symmetry and grace if allowed to
finish them to his own satisfaction, which he always preferred. The only impatience he showed was with
those who were satisfied with what was “good enough to do”. He would not be hurried, and those who came
in a hurry often went slowly away, charmed by his actions and
conversation. His nature was open but
in one direction it had a strong element of reserve. No one ever learned from him the process of
steaming wood. Articles inquired after
were either not begun or “in the mould” and not to be even looked at. The first winter, Jamey endured hardship
owing to the log house being hurriedly and inefficiently “chinked”. Believing that
his sufferings might undermine his constitution, he adopted a new and
astonishing remedy. The first sunny
spring day he was seen on the sunny side of the house reclining under a
mountain of clothes. To anxious
enquirers he stated that he was not really unwell, he was thawing the
winter’s frost out of his bones. This
process he continued each spring till he discovered a better means of
restoring his health and adding to a very moderate income. This occasioned the longest journey he ever
attempted since coming into the forest, but it was eminently successful. |
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The land in his district contained boulder
stone, often far too many, as pioneers learned to their sorrow. Jamey’s journey was for the purpose of
learning how to convert these boulders into lime, an article much required
about log buildings. As these boulders
had to be removed from the land anyway, he managed to induce his industrious
family to assist or rather to do most of the work of building a small lime
kiln, under his direction.
The trade secret about a lime kiln was the arch under which a fire
was maintained the proper period of time.
Like the steaming, Jamey kept this knowledge to himself. The enterprise was a success from the first
and the income, though small, was constant and very desirable. His charges, though very reasonable, like
toll-keepers, he demanded coin of the realm. Once prepared, there was not much
hard labour about burning a kiln, though it required continuous attention for
two or three days and nights, the heat serving to thaw Jamey’s bones. Competitors or imitators did not
succeed. The excellence of Jamey’s
product and his attractive personality brought the trade his way. Talented poets and writers have given us
charming descriptions of maple sugar making.
When everybody made sugar, the boiling of a kettle of sap was an
insignificant affair to the spring burning of Jamey’s lime kiln. |
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Young and old gathered, the forest gloom was
dispelled by the brilliant yellow glare of the kiln fire, the woods rang with
merriment or re-echoed the inspiring strains of Jamey’s fiddle. He had no need to court popularity but his
patience in playing for novices while learning the intricate steps still
further endeared their hearts. Even
Allan Piper condescended to attend these gatherings, the superiority of his
musical attainments precluding all thoughts of jealousy. When the amateur dancers had acquired
sufficient expertness, he finished their education with the pipes, believing
that this desired condition could not be attained by such an insignificant
instrument as the fiddle. Thus Jamey lived and thoroughly enjoyed the
simple life till long past the Psalmist’s allotted span. (This article was
published Wednesday August 4th, 1920.) |
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John William Gilchrist (1865-1942) was born
in Puslinch and there, with many an attendant honour, he long resided, except
for brief stints in Guelph and St. Catharines. Young John Gilchrist was a natural
athlete and participated in many sports.
He trained with the 11th Field Battery, rose to the rank of
Captain, and during World War I, he was an instructor at Socially, John Gilchrist, with his
beloved violin and large repertoire of popular songs, was always in great
demand. During his later years, he
assisted Colonel John Bayne Maclean in assembling and displaying the
remarkable collection of antiques at the As a writer, he contributed widely to
newspapers and other publications such as “Rod & Gun”,
“Farmer’s Sun”, and “Weekly Fun”. Mr.
Gilchrist’s work was well received, noted for combining a compassionate sense
of humour with a wealth of stories on early days in |
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