The Recollections of James Douglas Ramsay of Killean Introduction The seemingly straightforward and cheerfully presented recollections of James Douglas Ramsay ultimately reveal themselves to be nothing less than an astonishing tale of triumph over adversity. Thrust by their father’s blindness into the roles of men, at the ages of 13 and 9, Archie and James Ramsay succeeded in raising their father’s family and paying off the mortgage on their Killean farm. Even more remarkable is James Ramsay’s determination not to allow the challenges of his childhood to diminish his character, but rather, in his own words, he grew strong through adversity, and indeed, his recollections reflect a life of both accomplishment and enjoyment. A tribute to James Douglas Ramsay, as it appeared in the Hespeler Herald newspaper, is appended. |
The Recollections of
James Douglas Ramsay of Killean It is impossible for any of us to go very far back in the history of his or our family. So, in attempting to give or leave to my children, grandchildren, or great-grandchildren, a story of my life, I shall merely go back a generation or two. Our Ramsay ancestors were of Norman-French stock, the original spelling being “De Ramezay”. Father always claimed a relationship to the Dalhousie Ramsays and called the farm where I grew up Dalhousie. Our family gave a Governor-General to When my father was six years old, grandfather became security for
a relative who had an iron industry in |
My grandfather, Archibald Ramsay was born in 1765 in My grandmother’s name was Christina McLean. She too was large and strong and died in
her seventy-ninth year, shortly before the death of grandfather. They had a family of fourteen, five boys
and nine girls. Of my father’s brothers, Donald died of cholera at Alexander, my father, was born in 1808, and after the family
returned to the old homestead in Kintyre, he worked
among the farmers until he had earned enough money to pay for the passage to
Canada for his father, mother, three sisters and himself. This was in 1842. In 1832, as mentioned above, father’s
brother Norman had emigrated to Canada and located on lot 7, north half, Gore
of Puslinch Township and built thereon a log house and log barn. This was the first home in His only food while cutting down the heavy timbers was oatmeal cake, which his mother baked and which he carried with him, buried under the snow and when hungry, ate beside a fired stump. |
Father’s sisters were married as follows: Ellen married Dugald
McLarty; Christine married John McAlister and after his death, Thomas
Heritage; Barbara married James Hogg; My uncle Norman, with whom the family resided upon emigrating from
After the death of grandfather and grandmother in the middle 50’s, my father felt free to marry, for up to that time he felt it was his duty to care for his parents and his sisters. He met and married Jane Pursell, who
with her mother and sister Mary, had come to |
And here, because it may be of some use in the future, I shall give the birth dates of the family. |
|||||
|
Birthdates of the Ramsay family |
|
|||
|
Archie |
April 8th, 1857. |
|
||
|
James |
August 16th, 1861. |
|
||
|
|
July 26th, 1863. |
|
||
|
Alex |
August 8th, 1865. |
|
||
|
Barbara |
November 8th, 1869. |
|
||
|
Edward |
July 8th, 1871. |
|
||
|
Donald |
August 19th, 1873. |
|
||
|
Mary |
July 29th, 1875. |
|
||
|
Christina |
April 11th, 1877. |
|
||
|
John |
October 24th, 1878. |
|
||
|
|||||
|
Father died in 1890, 83rd year. Mother died in 1927, 87th year. Christina died in 1877, 27 days. John died in 1898, 20th year. Alex died in 1939, 74th year |
|
|||
Now, I know that you would like to know a little about myself, so I shall try to tell you, as briefly as is fitting, and when I have completed my story, the half of it shall not have been told. |
|||||
I was born on August 16th, 1861, in what became the Canada, at the time of my birth, had an area of 360,000 square miles, now 3,750,000 square miles and a population of 350,000, now, in 1943, 11,500,000. Then, a few scattered areas, now, a great kingdom, reaching from ocean to ocean and from sea to sea. Some of my earliest memories are of the homecoming of some of our relatives in 1865 from the American Civil War, as they told of battles fierce and wild as Chicamauga, Chatanooga, Antietam, Fort Donelson and many others and the names of Lincoln, Lee, Grant, McLellan were very wonderful to my childish ears as I sat on my father’s knee and looked with wonder at these men who had fought, were wounded and had spent many months in prisons. War seemed glorious to me then. Now the thought of it is abhorrent to me. Other very early memories are of the death in 1863 of my maternal grandmother, and in that same year, I have a mind picture of the frame of a new bank barn. |
Very early in the 1860’s, I remember my father, a good-looking middle-aged man with a brown beard, driving up the lane in a sleigh. He had a beautiful team of horses, Prince and Jean. How proud I was of him and them! Then came father’s blindness from cataract, Fenian raids, Confederation, the purchase of the Great West, and added to these and many other events, were the arrival in the home of two new brothers and a sister. A very interesting memory of that time occurred when Archie and I, he then twelve and I almost seven, walked to Galt to celebrate the first or second Dominion Day. When we arrived at the entrance to the large park, where the CPR station, yards, and other streets now are, Archie became violently ill and we started right back home. Every little way, he would lie down and tell me that he was going to die. Finally, we did get home, after walking ten miles and having no celebration or anything to eat. Because of my father’s blindness, he rented the farm to William McIntyre, a neighbour, at $100 per year. He paid the rent for 1869 but refused to pay it for 1870. We took back the farm and Archie, then thirteen, and I, nine, took charge and entered into the poverty, hard work, and hardships of many succeeding years. |
Archie had attended Killean school for some time and he told of classes and strappings and I had nightmares in which Sandy McIntyre was chasing me and I was scared stiff and refused to go to school at Killean. However, one morning in May 1869, without breakfast, which I had refused to eat, with father on one hand and Archie on the other, they led me across the fields, where we met the dear old man. I did not fear him anymore as he gave me half an apple. At noon, the big girls chased me and kissed me and before winter came, I had learned to read and spell well and was promoted to a book called the “Sequel”, the first page of which contained a picture of a big cross looking bull. Little did I think then that I would one day be a teacher in that school. My memory is full of happenings and pictures of that time in my life, among them of successful and unsuccessful operations on father’s eyes, of the sad death by the roadside of Sally McQuillan, of the passenger pigeons passing over the arch of the sky in countless millions, now extinct, of political discussions in the old home about “John A.” and “Geordie Broon” and the other Fathers of Confederation, of the poor and needy, who were always fed and warmed by my dear, dear mother. I wonder now how wonderful she was, milking, baking, cooking, sewing, spinning, knitting, scrubbing, churning, and all without a murmur or complaint. When I look back across the vale of time, I begin to realize how wonderful she was. I cannot put in words all she was to me. I inherited much from her and tried to honour her in my life. |
In the winter of 1870-1871, when I was not yet ten years of age, I spent part of the winter with an old sorrel mare, attached to a whiffle tree and chain, hauling railway ties out of the swamp to be cut into proper length and used on the Galt-Berlin railway, pretty hard work for a boy of that age! I recall that we got 35 cents each for them and that Archie and Murdock McLean teamed them to Galt. We had Murdock for a number of winters to help with the teaming of cordwood and sawlogs. In 1871, Archie, then fourteen, and I, ten, began a stern battle, which was to last more than ten years, to pay off a mortgage of $2100, with interest at 6%, and to feed, clothe and send to school the younger members of the family, a heavy task and load. At that time, there was no farm machinery and the hay was cut with scythes, the grain by cradles, and the binding was done by hand. I recall that Archie, then fifteen years of age, cradled 18 acres of wheat in five and a half days. This grain, I gathered into sheaves and father, in his very limited sight, bound the sheaves. Archie was, of course, older and much stronger than I, and after working with him all day mowing, I felt as if I must break and give in, but I am glad to say that I never did. I don’t think he realized my condition. |
During the 70’s, I got brief snatches of school as I helped to team cordwood or cut it and helped on the farm all summer. Had we no amusement or fun? Yes, we had. Fishing on wet days, an occasional picnic, Queen’s birthdays, barn-raisings, dances, for Archie had learned to play the fiddle and I accompanied him to the dances at which he was playing and soon learned to dance quite well. For years, he and I were like David and Jonathan, always together in work or at play, but chiefly the former. He was a stern taskmaster but always a just one and I owe him much. He put iron into my soul and body. The 1870’s were very hard years for Canadians. Times were very hard on everybody, work was
scarce, and prices were very poor for what people had to sell. As a sample of prices, Archie and I took a
sleigh load of pork to But even with all these low prices, we were gradually paying off our mortgage. |
In 1879, the There were many, many other events of the 1870’s of great interest to me but probably not to those who read these lines, as for example, the Franco-Prussian War, the Commune which followed it, the addition to our family of five, three brothers and two sisters, and the death of little Christina of whooping cough, when she was twenty-seven days old, also the addition of Manitoba, British Columbia, and Prince Edward Island to the Dominion. After the closing of the cheese factory at the end of August 1879,
I carried water for the gang of navvies then grading the |
I entered the I attended the G.C.I. again for a short time in 1881, but left at Easter as I felt that it was too much to ask Archie to give me $2.00 per week to pay for my board. I made up my mind to earn my own money and then go back to school. With this end in view, I went to Ingersoll where grading was being
done on an extension of the |
The early 1880’s were busy ones for me. The winter of 1880-81 was spent with Angus McLellan in a contract with Jaud
Turnbull to cut sawlogs and cordwood for him. This necessitated a walk of 2.5 miles each
morning and the same home each night.
I often reached the woods while the stars were still shining. Angus and I averaged a $1.20 a day all
winter. After supper, I took part in
debates in the school at From that time till my retirement as section foreman at Streetsville Junction, to go back to school, I was employed by the CPR. I was, according to Roadmaster Eugene Murphy, the youngest foreman in the system and according to him, “ a d----d good one”. But I realized there was no future for that sort of work or position. I entered the Galt Collegiate on the 7th of January 1885 and in six months succeeded in passing the third class examinations, which, with three months at model school at Galt, qualified me to teach for three years. I felt honoured when asked by the trustees of S.S. # 7, Puslinch, to become its teacher, the school which I had so irregularly attended. My teachers there had been Alexander McIntyre, Hugh A. McPherson, and Alexander Gilchrist. The last named taught me. The others heard me recite. I owe Mr. Gilchrist much that I cannot repay except in kind remembrance. |
The three years that I taught at S.S. # 7 Puslinch were very happy
and successful ones. The average
attendance was forty-five. I had not a
single failure in either Promotion or Entrance examinations. Of the success of my first entrance class,
the Galt Reformer, then published, had this to record, “One hundred pupils
wrote at Galt, of whom twenty-nine passed.
Thirty-three wrote at In all my schools, I never met a kinder, more loyal or more
co-operative or ever cleverer lot of boys and girls. Inspector Craig spoke of the school as one
of the best in the |
Town Mourns Passing of Beloved Citizen, James D. Ramsay (from the Hespeler Herald newspaper for October 23rd 1947.) Hespeler this week paid final tribute to one
of her most illustrious citizens — the beloved former principal of the public
school — James D. Ramsay Scarcely anybody ever referred to him as
“Jim”. His pupils called him “Mister”
— and there was a lot of respect in that simple title. But most times he was known as “J. D.”, and
only a stranger failed to identify him by that affectionate contraction of
his name. “J. D.” was a man of considerable stature
by any standards. He called himself a
teacher, for that was his profession.
Some people might refer to him as an educator, but “J. D.” was more
than that — he was a builder — a man who built character in his
students. He made men out of
schoolboys and ladies out of pig-tailed girls. He looked beyond the schoolbooks to the
days when his pupils would take their places in the world, and tried to
instil in them some of his own integrity, some of his own honesty and
character, his humour, and his love for his fellow man. The son of pioneer Scottish parents who
settled in Puslinch and the Gore because the rugged land reminded them of
their native hills and dales, J. D. Ramsay was born in Killean. A farm boy, he got his early education in
the little Scottish community, and then turned to his farm chores. But the desire for more education burned
strongly — and his schooling did not satisfy that desire. For some years, he worked as a section hand
on the Canadian Pacific Railway to earn the needed funds to go on to higher
learning. Then, already a grown man,
he went back to school — the famous Dr. Tassie’s
Grammar School at Galt. With his love for learning, it was only
natural that “J. D.” should turn to teaching as his life work. And teaching was a work that he loved — a
work that he performed remarkably well.
It was not to him a routine job of trying to teach children the mere
humdrum stuff that was in schoolbooks — but a richer, fuller opportunity for
him to tell his youngsters of many things and many places, to teach them the
art of living. He taught his first class at the “J. D.” wasted no time in becoming part
of the community. He served as a
member of the village council for two years and was one of the men who were
responsible for the incorporation of Hespeler as a town back in 1901. With his appointment as principal of the
school he felt that he could not seek elective office in the community but
his interest in municipal affairs by no means stopped. Few men in the town’s history have
contributed more in time and service to municipal affairs. For many years he was a member of the
public library board, and was one of the moving spirits in the establishment
in Hespeler of a Carnegie Library. A
member of, and chairman of the Parks Board for many years, his foresight and
efforts were to a large degree responsible for many parks in town. His advice and counsel were sought and
highly valued on many other municipal problems. “J. D.”, in his religion, was a sincere
and devout Presbyterian. In politics,
he was a very staunch Liberal, always prepared and welcoming the opportunity
to uphold and defend the policies of his party. Of his immediate family, one daughter,
Mrs. N. Walford, of Toronto, and two sons, Alex, of
Grand Rapids Michigan, and Scott, of Hespeler, survive to mourn his
loss. His wife predeceased him. The late Mr. Ramsay had not been in good
health for some time. His last
official appearance at a community function was during the last Old Boys The funeral was held on Tuesday afternoon
from St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church to The kindliness and friendliness of the
man had won “J. D.” thousands of friends.
To the many hundreds of his former pupils, now scattered around the
world, he will remain one of the brightest memories of the hometown. Hespeler has lost one of her finest
citizens. |