Happy Birthday in Ninetyport: Schooner Days DCCXXXVI (736)

by C. H. J. Snider

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ONE Schooner Days' first customers—and a most persistent contributor to the British War Victims' Fund—entered his 90th year yesterday, and all concerned are happy about it. He is Capt. John Williams, and the birthday was celebrated in two ways at the Rosedale home of Mr. and Mrs. Leon H. Watts, 50 Whitehall road.

First of all, Capt. Williams, who has-been feeling the urge of fitting-out time in this phenomenally early spring, took in hand his garden rake and made a good job of the April-eager lawn. He learned to rake 80 years ago, being inducted into that mystery aboard the stonehooker Rover of Port Credit. Having wielded a stone rake (which had two heavy tines at right angles to the handle), thus early in his youth the garden rake was child's play to him in his maturity of 90 years. A missing leg, amputated ten years ago, was an inconvenience, but did not prevent him from working up a good appetite for what followed.

This was a lovely birthday tea, a family affair with a few privileged friends, including Schooner Days. It was a very happy gathering, the happier that this granddaughter, Miss Nancy Lea Watts, was back from three years' war service, and faithful Chico II., successor to Capt. Williams' old pal of the same name, was able to perform his predecessor's duties as gentleman usher.

The birthday celebration followed another of the day before — the second birthday of Capt. Williams' great grandchild. And that, by happy coincidence, fell on the anniversary of his daughter's wedding, which was celebrated with a downtown dinner given by Miss Nancy Lea Watts to her parents and grandfather. Capt. Williams, born March 22nd, 1857, joined the little schooner Rover in 1867 as cook. In a few years he was boy captain of this and other small craft, and graduated into large schooners. He became captain and owner of the schooners W. T. Greenwood, Speedwell, W. Y. Emery and Sir C. T. Van Straubenzee in turn. Then went into steam and commanded more steamers than he had sailing vessels. His largest was the 15,000-ton J. H. G. Hagarty, Urged to return to the bridge after the Great War, he did so, commanding several marine of the government merchant but retired finally to keep a promise of long standing to his wife.

GOODNESS knows schooner days were hard, so hard they killed off hundreds before their time, both by the violence of wind and water, back-breaking toil, and heart-breaking anxiety. But they were also gay, and they founded family fortunes and they provided numerous instances of longevity. Capt. Michael Troy, who last sailed the schooner E. A. Fulton out of Toronto in 1895, is said to have been 102 when he died in this century. Sir William Mulock, another centenarian of more recent date, may not be remembered as a schooner man, but he was one of the amateur crew of the schooner yacht Oriole (the first of the name) 70 years ago, and he was a very active mainsheet man at that time. Among Schooner Days' Prince Edward County friends are many active octogenarians — Harry-out-of-Picton McConnel, Alexander Cameron Taylor, still Picton's ace steeplejack, and George Bongard, to name three—and nearer home there are Capt. James H. Peacock of Port Hope, Capt. James Baby of Hamilton, and Capt. W. D. Graham of St. Catharines. Sorry—they can't be included in the octogenarian list. They are all over 90. Capt. Peacock, the dean of the Evergreen Club, is 93. All of these fine old men started sailing in Lake Ontario schooners 70 years ago. Wooden ships, iron men. All the schooners are gone, but they still look with glad eyes on the wind wrinkling the waters of the freshet-swollen lake in the sunshine of early spring.

THREE contributors raced with the words of "Lost On the Lady Elgin," asked for last week. One was Miss Ettie Keffer, 9 Ladykirk avenue, a member of that Vaughan Township pioneer family. Another was Miss Elizabeth M. Davis, 646 Euclid avenue. The third was Commodore G. E. Farquhar of the Burlington Yacht Club, whose query prompted the reproduction of the article on the sinking of the Lady Elgin. It was used in Schooner Days in The Telegram for the first time Jan. 28th, 1933 and the song was mentioned then, but not given, because the words had been forgotten. Miss Davis J says the ballad was sung by her mother fifty-five years ago. Commodore Farquhar also mentions its use as a lullaby in the days when children were rocked to sleep with such sprightly songs as "I Want To Be An Angel" and "Pass Under the Rod," both of which would be singularly appropriate today.

"The author of the above song, Henry C. Work," writes Commodore G. E. Farquhar, "was a noted Civil War song writer who wrote "Marching Through Georgia," "My Grandfather's Clock" and several others. He lived between 1832 and 1884, in a poor home in Chicago, practically in poverty. He also patented a knitting machine, a walking doll and a rotary engine, but, like many other inventors, was no business man, so reaped little for his efforts except the supreme satisfaction which goes with the creative instinct. Significant with the times, the above song was often used by children's nurses as a lullaby, its mournful tones no doubt having a lulling effect."

A feature of this race in courtesy is that the words of the three versions submitted are almost identical, the only variations being "bitter" for "solemn" and "dreamed" for" "thought." In many of the lake ballads no two versions agree.

Up from the poor man's cottage,

Forth from the mansion door;

Sweeping across the waters,

And echoing 'long the shore;

Caught by the morning breezes,

Borne on the evening gale;

Cometh a voice of mourning,

A sad and solemn wail.

Chorus:

Lost on the Lady Elgin!

Sleeping to wake no more!

Number'd in that three hundred

Who fail'd to reach the shore!

Oh! 'tis the cry of children,

Weeping for parents gone;

Children who slept at evening,

But orphans woke at dawn.

Sisters for brothers weeping,

Husbands for missing wives—

Such are the ties dissever'd

With those three hundred lives.

Staunch was the noble steamer—

Precious the freight she bore;

Gaily she loosed her cables

A few short hours before.

Grandly she swept our harbor,

Joyfully rang her bell;

Little thought we, 'ere morning,

'Twould toll so sad a knell.

ANOTHER GREEN

With best wishes for Capt. Williams' birthday comes this from across the lake in a clear hand as the ringing voice of the writer:

"Feeling fine, on the go daily. If I make the grade will be 91 on the 12th May.

—W. D. G.

This is from Capt. Wm. D. Graham, horseboy in the Jennie Graham 73 years ago, whose experiences will interest readers next week.

Woodcut from Warwick's old Third Reader in which the loss of the Lady Elgin was one of the lessons.

AHOY! hails Capt. John Williams as year XC comes up the garden walk, interrupting his leafraking. Mr. Chico, who has never seen ninety before, is inquisitive.

THE LADY ELGIN and a schooner similar to the AUGUSTA which rammed her in Lake Michigan eighty-six years ago——from a drawing in the John Ross Robertson Collection of Canadian Historical Pictures, Toronto Public Library.