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

By the time the year 1826 came round, Colonel Talbot, in consequence of his exertions to forward the interests of his settlement, had begun to be very much straitened for means. He accordingly addressed a letter to Lord Bathurst, Secretary for the Colonies in the Home Government, asking for some remuneration for his long and valuable services. In his application for relief we find this paragraph: "After twenty-three years entirely devoted to the improvement of the Western Districts of this Province, and establishing on their lands about 20,000 souls, without any expense for superintendence to the Government, or the persons immediately benefited; but, on the contrary, at a sacrifice of £20,000, in rendering them comfortable, I find myself entirely straitened, and now wholly without capital." He admitted that the tract of land he had received from the Crown was large, but added that his agricultural labours had been unproductive — a circumstance not much to be wondered at when it is borne in mind that his time was chiefly occupied in selling and portioning out the land. The Home Government responded by a grant of £400 sterling per annum. The pension thus conferred was not gratuitous, but by way of recompense for his services in locating settlers on the waste lands of the Crown. That he was entitled to such a recompense few, at the present day, will be found to deny. He was a father to his people, and, in the words of his biographer, "acted as the friend of the poor, industrious settler, whom he protected from the fangs of men in office who looked only to the fees." 4 4 See "Life of Colonel Talbot," by Edward Ermatinger; p. 70.

In course of time the Colonel's place of abode at Port Talbot came to be a resort for distinguished visitors to Upper Canada, and the Lieutenant-Governors of the Province frequently resorted thither. The late Chief Justice Sir John Beverley Robinson was a frequent and an honoured guest at Castle Malahide; and Colonel Talbot, in his turn, generally availed himself of the hospitality of the Chief Justice during his annual visits to Little York. Among scores of other distinguished visitors may be mentioned the Duke of Richmond, Sir Peregrine Maitland, Lord Aylmer and Sir John Colborne. Mrs. Jameson also visited the spot during her sojourn in this country just before the rebellion, and published the most readable account of it that has yet appeared. Speaking of the Colonel himself, she says: "This remarkable man is now about sixty-five, perhaps more, but he does not look so much. In spite of his rustic dress, his good-humoured, jovial, weather-beaten face, and the primitive simplicity, not to say rudeness, of his dwelling, he has in his features, air, and deportment, that something which stamps him gentleman. And that something which thirty-four years of solitude have not effaced, he derives, I suppose, from blood and birth — things of more consequence, when philosophically and philanthropically considered, than we are apt to allow. He must have been very handsome when young; his resemblance now to our royal family, particularly to the King, (William the Fourth,) is so very striking as to be something next to identity. Good-natured people have set themselves to account for this wonderful likeness in various ways, possible and impossible; but after a rigid comparison of dates and ages, and assuming all that latitude which scandal usually allows herself in these matters, it remains unaccountable.. I had always heard and read of him as the 'eccentric' Colonel Talbot. Of his eccentricity I heard much more than of his benevolence, his invincible courage, his enthusiasm, his perseverance; but perhaps, according to the worldly nomenclature, these qualities come under the general head of 'eccentricity,' when devotion to a favourite object cannot possibly be referred to self-interest.. Colonel Talbot's life has been one of persevering, heroic self-devotion to the completion of a magnificent plan, laid down in the first instance, and followed up with unflinching tenacity of purpose. For sixteen years he saw scarce a human being, except the few boors and blacks employed in clearing and logging his land: he himself assumed the blanket-coat and axe, slept upon the bare earth, cooked three meals a day for twenty woodsmen, cleaned his own boots, washed his own linen, milked his cows, churned the butter, and made and baked the bread. In this latter branch of household economy he became very expert, and still piques himself on it." Of the château itself and its immediate surroundings, she says: "It" (the château) "is a long wooden building, chiefly of rough logs, with a covered porch running along the south side. Here I found suspended, among sundry implements of husbandry, one of those ferocious animals of the feline kind, called here the cat-a-mountain, and by some the American tiger, or panther, which it more resembles. This one, which had been killed in its attack on the fold or poultry-yard, was at least four feet in length, and glared on me from the rafters above, ghastly and horrible. The interior of the house contains several comfortable lodging-rooms; and one really handsome one, the dining-room. There is a large kitchen with a tremendously hospitable chimney. Around the house stands a vast variety of outbuildings, of all imaginable shapes and sizes, and disposed without the slightest regard to order or symmetry. One of these is the very log hut which the Colonel erected for shelter when he first 'sat down in the bush,' four-and-thirty years ago, and which he is naturally unwilling to remove. Many of these outbuildings are to shelter the geese and poultry, of which he rears an innumerable quantity. Beyond these is the cliff, looking over the wide blue lake, on which I have counted six schooners at a time with their white sails; on the left is Port Stanley. Behind the house lies an open tract of land, prettily broken and varied, where large flocks of sheep and cattle were feeding — the whole enclosed by beautiful and luxuriant woods, through which runs the little creek or river. The farm consists of six hundred acres; but as the Colonel is not quite so active as he used to be, and does not employ a bailiff or overseer, the management is said to be slovenly, and not so productive as it might be. He has sixteen acres of orchard-ground, in which he has planted and reared with success all the common European fruits, as apples, pears, plums, cherries, in abundance; but what delighted me beyond everything else was a garden of more than two acres, very neatly laid out and enclosed, and in which he evidently took exceeding pride and pleasure; it was the first thing he showed me after my arrival. It abounds in roses of different kinds, the cuttings of which he had brought himself from England in the few visits he had made there. Of these he gathered the most beautiful buds, and presented them to me with such an air as might have become Dick Talbot presenting a bouquet to Miss Jennings. We then sat down on a pretty seat under a tree, where he told me he often came to meditate. He described the appearance of the spot when he first came here, as contrasted with its present appearance, or we discussed the exploits of some of his celebrated and gallant ancestors, with whom my acquaintance was (luckily) almost as intimate as his own. Family and aristocratic pride I found a prominent feature in the character of this remarkable man. A Talbot of Malahide, of a family representing the same barony from father to son for six hundred years, he set, not unreasonably, a high value on his noble and unstained lineage; and, in his lonely position, the simplicity of his life and manners lent to these lofty and not unreal pretensions a kind of poetical dignity.. Another thing which gave a singular interest to my conversation with Colonel Talbot was the sort of indifference with which he regarded all the stirring events of the last thirty years. Dynasties rose and disappeared; kingdoms were passed from hand to hand like wine decanters; battles were lost and won; — he neither knew, nor heard, nor cared. No post, no newspaper brought to his forest-hut the tidings of victory and defeat, of revolutions of empires, or rumours of unsuccessful and successful war."