John Dent - The Canadian Portrait Gallery - Volume 3 (of 4)

In 1793 young Talbot received his majority. In 1796 he became Lieutenant-Colonel of the Fifth Regiment of Foot. He returned to Europe, and joined his regiment, which was despatched on active service to the Continent. He himself was busily employed during this period, and was for some time in command of two battalions. Upon the conclusion of the Peace of Amiens, on the 27th of March, 1802, he sold his commission, retired from the service, and prepared to carry out the intention expressed by him to Governor Simcoe nine years before, of pitching his tent in the wilds of Canada. Why he adopted this course it is impossible to do more than conjecture. He never married, but remained a bachelor to the end of his days. One writer ventures the hypothesis that he had been crossed in love. The only justification, so far as we are aware, for this hypothesis, is a half jocular expression of the Colonel's some years afterwards. A friend having bantered him on the subject of his remaining so long in a state of single blessedness, took an opportunity of questioning him about it, and in the course of a familiar chat, asked him why he remained so long single, when he stood so much in need of a help-mate. "Why," said the Colonel, "to tell you the truth, I never saw but one woman that I really cared anything about, and she would'nt have me; and to use an old joke, those who would have me, the devil would'nt have them. Miss Johnston," continued the Colonel, "the daughter of Sir J. Johnston, was the only girl I ever loved, and she wouldn't have me."

Whatever cause may have impelled him, it is sufficiently evident that he had become out of sorts with society, and had resolved to betake himself to a distance from the haunts of civilized mankind. Aided by the influence of ex-Governor Simcoe and other powerful friends, he obtained a grant of five thousand acres of land as a Field Officer meaning to reside in the Province, and to permanently establish himself there. The land was situated in the southern part of the Upper Canadian peninsula, bordering on Lake Erie, and included the site of what afterwards became Port Talbot. This, however, was only a portion of the advantage derivable from the grant. In addition to the tract so conferred upon him he obtained a preëmptive or proprietary right over an immense territory including about half a million acres, and comprising twenty-eight of the adjacent townships. 2 2 From correspondence and documents laid before the Upper Canadian House of Assembly in 1836, and published in the appendix to the Journal for that year, we learn that the total quantity of land placed at Colonel Talbot's disposal amounted to exactly 518,000 acres. Five years before that date (in 1831) the population of the Talbot settlement had been estimated by the Colonel at nearly 40,000. It appears that the original grant did not include so large a tract, but that it was subsequently extended. For every settler placed by the Colonel on fifty acres of this land, he was entitled to a patent of a hundred and fifty additional acres for himself. He thus obtained practical control of an expanse of territory which, as has been said, was "a principality in extent." Armed with these formidable powers he once more crossed the Atlantic, and made his way to the present site of Port Talbot, which had so hugely attracted his fancy during his tour with Governor Simcoe. He reached the spot on the 21st of May, 1803, and immediately set to work with his axe, and cut down the first tree, to commemorate his landing to take possession of his woodland estate. The settlement which subsequently bore his name was then an unbroken forest, and there were no traces of civilization nearer than Long Point, sixty miles to the eastward, while to the westward the aborigines were still the lords of the soil, and rules with the tomahawk. In this sequestered region Colonel Talbot took up his abode, and literally made for himself "a local habitation and a name."

At the time of his arrival he was accompanied by two or three stalwart settlers who had crossed the Atlantic under his auspices, and with their assistance he was not long in erecting an abode which was thenceforward known as Castle Malahide. It was built on a high cliff overhanging the lake. The "Castle" was "neither more nor less than a long range of low buildings, formed of logs and shingles." The main structure consisted of three divisions, or apartments; viz., a granary, which was also used as a store-room; a dining-room, which was also used as an office and reception-room for visitors; and a kitchen. There was another building close by, containing a range of bed-rooms, where guests could be made comfortable for the night. In his later years, the Colonel added a suite of rooms of more lofty pretensions, but without disturbing the old tenements, and these sumptuous apartments were reserved for state occasions. There were underground cellars for wine, milk, and kitchen stores. This description applies to the establishment as it appeared when finally completed. For some time after the Colonel's first arrival it was much less pretentious, and consisted of a single log shanty. In order to prevent settlers and other people from intruding upon his privacy unnecessarily, the Colonel caused one of the panes of glass in the window of his office to be removed, and a little door, swung upon hinges, to be substituted, after the fashion sometimes seen at rural post-offices. By means of this little swinging door he held conferences with all persons whom he did not chose to admit to a closer communication. This, which at a first glance, would seem to smack of superciliousness, was in reality nothing more than a judicious precaution. In the course of his dealings with settlers and emigrants, some of them were tempted, by the loneliness of his situation, to browbeat, and even to manifest violence towards him. On one occasion, it is said, he was assaulted and thrown down by one of the "land pirates," as he used to call them. The solitary situation in which he had voluntarily placed himself, and the power he possessed of distributing lands, required him to act frequently with apparent harshness, in order to avoid being imposed upon by land jobbers, and to prevent artful men from overreaching their weaker-minded brethren. His henchman, house-steward and major-domo, was a faithful servant whose name was Jeffery Hunter, in whom his master had great confidence, and who, as we are gravely informed, was very useful in reaching down the maps. Jeffery, however, did not enter the Colonel's employ until the later had been some time in the country. Previous to that time this scion of aristocracy was generally compelled to be his own servant, and to cook, bake, and perform all the household drudgery, which he was not unfrequently compelled to perform in the presence of distinguished guests.

Some years seem to have elapsed before the Colonel attracted any considerable number of settlers around him. The work of settlement cannot be said to have commenced in earnest until 1809. It was no light thing in those days for a man with a family dependent upon him to bury himself in the remote wildernesses of Western Canada. There was no flouring-mill, for instance, within sixty miles of Castle Malahide. In the earliest years of the settlement the few residents were compelled to grind their own grain after a primitive fashion, in a mortar formed by hollowing out a basin in the stump of a tree with a heated iron. The grain was placed in the basin, and then pounded with a heavy wooden beetle until it bore some resemblance to meal. In process of time the Colonel built a mill in the township of Dunwich, not far from his own abode. It was a great boon to the settlement, but was not long in existence, having been destroyed during the American invasion in 1812. For the first twenty years of the Colonel's settlement, the hardships he as well as his settlers had to contend with were of no ordinary kind, and such only as could be overcome by industry and patient endurance.