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Canada’s Sesquicentennial

Traitor’s Knot and Our Canadian Story: It Started With a Dream

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This is an exciting summer in so many ways. We Canadians are celebrating Canada 150 and Cryssa Bazos’ Traitor’s Knot has launched to wonderful acclaim. Today Cryssa is my guest author and her intriguing post follows. Welcome, Cryssa. Good luck with the wonderful Traitor’s Knot.

The Hudson’s Bay Company – 17th century multicultural start-up

This year, when Canada recently celebrated her 150th birthday, I thought about how we became a nation and all the long line of diverse people who paved the way. Curiously enough, Canada’s early story revolves a department store—the Hudson’s Bay Company. When you think Hudson’s Bay Company, you’re probably thinking of HBC, Bay Days sales and that iconic point blanket. I think of all that, but I also see an institution with a quintessential Canadian history, that started as a multicultural startup in the 17th century.

Pierre-Esprit Radisson (1637-1710): By Christian Robert de Massy, illustrateur, pour la Fondation Lionel-Groulx. – Moi, Mathieugp, chargé des projets numériques à la Fondation Lionel-Groulx, j’ai téléversé les illustrations du projet Le métro, véhicule de notre histoire, qui appartiennent de droit à la Fondation., CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=54025457

It started with a dream. Two French Canadian trappers (coureurs de bois), Pierre-Esprit Radisson and Médard des Groseilliers, were looking for the holy grail of beaver furs. They had been trading along the St. Lawrence River and making a decent living, but they had heard that the richest, thickest beaver furs could be found in the far north, and for that they needed financial backing.

There were rules as to where they could trap and licenses had to be secured. Radisson and Médard applied for a trading license from the governor of New France, the Marquis d’Argenson, to explore the upper Great Lakes. The governor declined their request, but that hardly stopped the two intrepid trappers. They gathered their gear and set off in 1659 to explore north of the Great Lakes to Hudson’s Bay.

Arrival of Radisson in an Indian Camp: By Charles William Jefferys – mechanical reproduction of 2D image, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=7357040

When they returned to New France, they carried with them the best quality of furs anyone had ever seen. Laden with the equivalent of a king’s ransom, they presented the governor with a sample—likely to rub his nose in the fur, quite literally. Enraged, the governor arrested them and, worse, confiscated their furs.

When they were finally released, the two Radisson and Groseilliers were more determined to prevail. If their country would not seize on the unparalleled resource, then they would have to look elsewhere for backing. So they headed south, to the English colony of Massachusetts.

In Boston, they met a business cartel that agreed to support the venture. A ship set out in 1663 only for it to be broken up by ice sheets. Most would have abandoned the venture, but one Englishman, Colonel George Cartwright, did not let this disaster deter him. Recognizing that they needed additional resources, Cartwright took our French trappers with him to London, where he introduced them to Prince Rupert of the Rhine, the first cousin of King Charles II, and 17th century poster boy.

Prince Rupert of the Rhine: By Anonymous – CherylHingley.com, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=5022018

Prince Rupert long had the reputation of an adventurer. He had cut his baby teeth fighting in his home of Germany during the Thirty Years’ War. When that wrapped up, he arrived in England to help out his old uncle, King Charles I, who had a nasty civil war on his hand. Rupert’s cavalry prowess had nearly demoralized the Parliamentary side, but in the end, even his tactics couldn’t win this war for the King. After the King’s arrest and subsequent execution, Rupert led a squadron of ships and harassed the Parliamentarians in the Azores and the Caribbean. The moment he heard about this new venture in the New World, he was in.

Rupert introduced Radisson and Groseilliers to his cousin, King Charles II (who was also a bit of an adventurer himself, the scoundrel), and he readily agreed to supply two ships, the Nonsuch and the Eaglet. On June 5, 1668, the two ships left Deptford for Hudson’s Bay. Unfortunately, the Eaglet reached only as far as Ireland before having to turn back.

The Nonsuch continued on to James Bay, the little southern dip of Hudson’s Bay. There they founded the first trading fort, calling it Charles Fort, in modern day Waskaganish in Quebec. Naturally, you name it after the monarch who sponsored the trip if you have any sense. But they didn’t leave Rupert out in the cold, for they named the river that flowed through there Rupert River.

They trapped and traded the winter of 1668 and when fall arrived the following year, the Nonsuch returned to England carrying a prized cargo of beaver furs. The value of the pelts was valued at £1,233, the equivalent (at that time) of a laborer’s lifetime wages.

The Hudson’s Bay Company was officially incorporated on May 2, 1670 by royal charter granted by King Charles II with Prince Rupert named as its first governor. The company had control of the entire area around Hudson’s Bay, known as Rupert’s Land, spanning approximately 1.5 million square miles!

Picture of Rupert’s Lands: By BlankMap-USA-states-Canada-provinces.svg: Lokal_ProfilWpdms_ruperts_land.jpg: en:User:Decumanusderivative work: Themightyquill (talk) – BlankMap-USA-states-Canada-provinces.svgWpdms_ruperts_land.jpg, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=12853860

 

Cryssa Bazos is an award winning historical fiction writer and 17th century enthusiast with a particular interest in the English Civil War. Her debut novel, Traitor’s Knot, is published by Endeavour Press and placed 3rd in 2016 Romance for the Ages (Ancient/Medieval/Renaissance). For more stories, visit her blog cryssabazos.com.

Social Media links:

Website: https://cryssabazos.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cbazos/

Twitter: @CryssaBazos

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cryssabazos/

Buy Links:

Traitor’s Knot is available:

About Traitor’s Knot:

England 1650: Civil War has given way to an uneasy peace in the year since Parliament executed King Charles I. Royalist officer James Hart refuses to accept the tyranny of the new government, and to raise funds for the restoration of the king’s son, he takes to the road as a highwayman. Elizabeth Seton has long been shunned for being a traitor’s daughter. In the midst of the new order, she risks her life by sheltering fugitives from Parliament in a garrison town. But her attempts to rebuild her life are threatened, first by her own sense of injustice, then by falling in love with the dashing Hart. The lovers’ loyalty is tested through war, defeat and separation. James must fight his way back to the woman he loves, while Elizabeth will do anything to save him, even if it means sacrificing herself.

Traitor’s Knot is a sweeping tale of love and conflicted loyalties set against the turmoil of the English Civil War.

Praise for Traitor’s Knot

“A hugely satisfying read that will appeal to historical fiction fans who demand authenticity, and who enjoy a combination of suspense, action, and a very believable love story. Five stars.” Elizabeth St. John, bestselling author of The Lady of the Tower

“A thrilling historical adventure expertly told.” – Carol McGrath, bestselling author of The Handfasted Wife

“Cryssa Bazos is equally at home writing battle scenes as writing romance, and the pace keeps the reader turning the pages.” – Deborah Swift, bestselling author of The Gilded Lily.

Cryssa Bazos is an award winning historical fiction writer and 17th century enthusiast with a particular interest in the English Civil War. Her debut novel, Traitor’s Knot, is published by Endeavour Press and placed 3rd in 2016 Romance for the Ages (Ancient/Medieval/Renaissance). For more stories, visit her blog cryssabazos.com.

Social Media links:

Website: https://cryssabazos.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/cbazos/

Twitter: @CryssaBazos

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cryssabazos/

Buy Links:

Traitor’s Knot is available:

About Traitor’s Knot:

England 1650: Civil War has given way to an uneasy peace in the year since Parliament executed King Charles I.

Royalist officer James Hart refuses to accept the tyranny of the new government, and to raise funds for the restoration of the king’s son, he takes to the road as a highwayman.

Elizabeth Seton has long been shunned for being a traitor’s daughter. In the midst of the new order, she risks her life by sheltering fugitives from Parliament in a garrison town. But her attempts to rebuild her life are threatened, first by her own sense of injustice, then by falling in love with the dashing Hart.

The lovers’ loyalty is tested through war, defeat and separation. James must fight his way back to the woman he loves, while Elizabeth will do anything to save him, even if it means sacrificing herself.

Traitor’s Knot is a sweeping tale of love and conflicted loyalties set against the turmoil of the English Civil War.

Praise for Traitor’s Knot

“A hugely satisfying read that will appeal to historical fiction fans who demand authenticity, and who enjoy a combination of suspense, action, and a very believable love story. Five stars.” Elizabeth St. John, bestselling author of The Lady of the Tower

“A thrilling historical adventure expertly told.” – Carol McGrath, bestselling author of The Handfasted Wife

“Cryssa Bazos is equally at home writing battle scenes as writing romance, and the pace keeps the reader turning the pages.” – Deborah Swift, bestselling author of The Gilded Lily.

 

Come take a look at the Loyalist trilogy. Click here.

Yay! Book 2 of the Loyalist Trilogy earned a new award!

 

 

 

 

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Birth of Canada, 1867: Who Was There?

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For today’s post I bring you a little bit of history and a little bit of real people’s stories. I’ve chosen to give personalities to William and Catherine (Cain) Garner, my great great great grandparents and to interview them. I’ve given them the ability to see into the future, you’ll notice, for I think these stalwart Loyalists who settled in Upper Canada have a lot to say about how we Canadians got here today, having just celebrated our sesquicentennial (150 years).

I’ve come to know William and Catherine having used their names, their situation, family tales, and the characteristics of my own father in writing my trilogy, especially in the second and third books. In the picture at left William is seated with Catherine to his right. The other two are their son, William, and his wife, Rosabella (Cass) Garner. The first William never got to see Confederation in 1867 when Canada was formed but Catherine did. This family settled in Nissouri township on a 200 acre farm which straddled the Thames River.

William and Catherine were there when most people traveled by an old Indian trail which crisscrossed their land.  Why? The roads marked out on the township maps were in varying states of disrepair relying as they did on the settlers to maintain the road along their acreages. There were just not enough settlers to have this be a viable way to keep up the roads. I wonder how we would like this system today? Aren’t we glad we have public works organizations? Makes you think taxes actually help us.

Ouch! Catherine just pinched me and William is glowering as he must have when he saw the condition of the so-called roads in Nissouri Township. We had better get started.

Elaine: I am most pleased to meet both of you even though the situation is very strange for all of us. What was it like moving away from Niagara and all of your family after the war was over in 1812?

William: Tough, it was. We both suffered a lot. I was part of the militia for about nine months during the war. Did you know that?

E: I did. I’ve read about some of those battles you must have been in. Can you tell me any details?

Catherine: First I need to say how sick I felt at leaving my parents’ graves and my little Catt’s. No one to say a prayer over them, pull the weeds around the piles of stones.

W: Hush, Catherine. Think of more pleasant times. Remember that barn raising on the lot south of us? We danced all night on the pounded earth. There’s a good girl. A smile.

E: Did you have a lot of times like that? I mean the dancing and partying.

C: No, not really. Mostly we worked from sunup to sundown and sometimes into the wee hours.

W: Sundays, though. We tried to rest on Sundays.

E: I heard about the Chippewa Indians. We call them Natives or First Nations people now, by the way. Do you have any stories about them?

W: The British conquered them. Put them on reserved lands and expected them to stay there. Not just the Chippewas. Mohawks and the others, what you now call Six Nations. All of them were given lands of their own.

E: We’re facing the consequences of that now.

C: I should tell her about that Indian woman, do you think, William?

W: That was a terrible thing.

C: It was a fine spring day. She came to visit with her little one–papoose–she called him. All wrapped up and tied on a board to sleep…..Oh, this part is hard. We left him on the front veranda. In the fresh air, you see.

E: What happened?

C: We were inside, my two china teacups on the table….smiling, talking. As women do.

Chippewa Indians Genealogy: FamilySearch Wiki

W: You’ll have to tell it, Catherine.

C: The baby. Screaming. So loud I can hear it now….we ran out and watched a lynx jump off the porch and run away…looked for the baby. Only the board and the broken strings. Blood. Lots of blood. On the porch, the grass. And silence. No baby screams now.

W: Here now. Don’t cry. It’s all in the past.

E: Um, I…William, what did you think of the Family Compact?

W: The what?….Oh, I remember. A bunch of privileged sons of–

C: William!

W. They had all the power and used it to feather their own nests. Gave the perks to their sons and cousins. Kept it all to their families. Made us so angry…some talked about overthrowing the government. The British! Others tried going to England and pleading. No good. Finally, rebellion. That was after I was gone but Catherine told me about it. Robert was part of it.

E: Who is Robert? Your son?

C: One of them. A good boy, too. Didn’t deserve to be hounded after that fiasco in Norwich. Those rebels never even got further than 10 miles before they turned back.

E: What do you mean, hounded?

W: Terrorized the little village looking for those whose names they found on a list. Most escaped. Others stood trial. A few died because of it.

C: That was such a bad business. Robert made it home but spent the rest of his days looking behind him.

E: What do you think when you look at us now a hundred and fifty years since Canada was born. Do you have any feelings?

C: I’m glad Canada turned out so well. For everyone. But especially for our family. William, we started something, didn’t we?

W: Yes, my dear. We surely did….and it was good.

E: Well, this has been fabulous, meeting my relatives, getting to know you–you’re real people. And, William, I can see my Dad in you. You would have liked him. Thank you both.

W: Just remember we’re looking down on you all.

C: No nasty tricks, no drinking or missing church. We’ll be watching.

E: So, there we have it. Two stalwart people. My relatives. I hope I get to meet them again.

 

The whole trilogy with these and many other characters is available on Amazon. Just double click on the book cover below.

“…ordinary people somehow finding the inner resources to shape new lives and a new country.”

 

 

 

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I Came, I Saw, I Cried

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Cpl. Frank Doxey

Last Friday I was thrilled to be in the Peace Tower at 11:00 a.m. when a very special Canadian ceremony took place. About a dozen or so of us slid behind grandiose pillars and in between glass cases holding large books as beautifully ornamented as those done by monks centuries ago. You can see from the photo here that I am wearing a badge. That is a clue. Visitors must go through strict security measures to get into the Centre Block of our Canadian Parliament in Ottawa, Ontario.

Each day a Canadian soldier, dressed with all spit and polish and clicking his or her shiny boots with every measured step from case to case around the grandiose room turns one page of each of the large books. My husband and I were there to see the page containing my uncle’s name be exposed to start its twenty-four hour sojourn in the light.

The room is called the Memorial Chamber–a commemoration to those who died in military service to Canada.

Looking back through the doorway I spied the beautiful stonework and the use of light and colour.

Before the ceremony I studied the case containing my Uncle Frank’s name. The lid has not yet been raised.

On one wall the words every school child of my generation memorized and repeated on November 11 each year–the poem penned by John MacRae, who himself ended up between the crosses during World War I.

I loved the way the sun coming through the gorgeous stained glass windows above anointed the names in each book.

The Second World War case is open in preparation for the ceremony.

Here is the soldier preparing to turn the page. I watched in anticipation of seeing my Uncle Frank’s name come to light. I never knew him. He died in August, 1944, in Italy two years before I was born. My whole life, though, I’ve revered the stories of my mother and those repeated at every Remembrance Day service I ever attended. I remember in high school wearing our cadet uniforms and lining up all up and down the main hall of Woodstock Collegiate Institute, our eyes turned to the showcases in the centre of the school where the ceremony took place. And I cried real tears, so moving were the moments.

Here is the gloved hand of the soldier doing this act of remembrance and homage. I did not cry. I nodded my head in unity with the soldier. These were not just names but real people with mothers and daughters, fathers and sons, families and friends, dreams and hopes and lives all dashed to dust. And we honour them.

My husband watches from across the room as the soldier bows his head.

After the clicking heels had rattled out of the tower room and down the corridor we were left with unimpeded views to the new day’s names. My Uncle Frank’s name–Cpl. Frank Gerald Doxey–is the second one on this page. He was a member of the Perth Regiment.

I quickly snapped a couple more shots; others were waiting behind me.

And here’s the best picture I took. I look at all the other names on Uncle Frank’s page and think of all the pages and all the books and all the deaths. And I am humbled and staggered by the loss.

Uncle Frank was 28 years old when he died. He left behind a wife and a young daughter, my cousin Peggy. Her lovely mother married again and birthed more children so that Peggy was raised in a wonderful family with a man who was every bit a father to her. Peggy loved to talk to my mother, though, and ask her questions about her father, the father she never really knew.

And still today as I write this, I shake my head at my tearing eyes and at all the floods of tears all over the world because of war. This is not the war I wrote about in my trilogy but the sentiments are the same.

And now as we celebrate on Saturday Canada’s 150th birthday since Confederation in 1867, I pray that we will need no more books of remembrance, no more beautiful calligraphy with each letter a tribute. After all, there is no more space in the Peace Tower memorial room for more cases or walls for wars. All the young men and women need to live their lives in peace, only at the end dying in their beds.

Lest We Forget

 

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Loyalist Day in Ontario

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June 19 was Loyalist Day here in Ontario, a most important remembrance for a good number of our 14,000,000 citizens whether they know it or not. To celebrate this day I went with my husband to a small village close to Turkey Point on Lake Erie and met other Loyalist descendants there. Vittoria boasts this fine building below, the present day Christ Church Anglican Church still standing on the site where the original judicial centre for London District was built at Tisdale’s Mills (Vittoria) in 1815.

When it burned 10 years later the judicial centre was moved to London. The present building was built on the previous foundation, the cornerstones of which can easily be seen today.

Inside this church we found a lovely old treasure, beautifully maintained, although certainly not air conditioned. For washrooms we had to walk a few hundred feet to go inside another of Vittoria’s historic buildings, the town hall, also lovingly maintained.

The Grand River Branch of U.E.L.A.C. provided this banner upon which I recognized a Mohawk Indian and a uniformed Butler’s Ranger as well as King George III’s badge.

Partway through the event we followed the piper across the lawns to raise the Loyalist flag on the property. I’ve even included a short video to give my readers the flavour of what we heard that day. There’s nothing like a piper in the great outdoors!

Most of the crowd tried to stay out of the sun for the presentation of this unveiling of the new Long Point Settlement Plaque and I did the same. That’s why my picture is from the side. Here local MPP Toby Barrett is bringing greetings from the province.

Upon completion of the ceremony I moved to a better vantage point and took my pictures. I dropped my camera away from my eyes when I noticed some of the artwork used. It is the same picture as I have on my third book cover!

After the formal part of the festivities, I had a moment to chat with MPP Toby Barrett about something he mentioned in his greetings. He was sad that our provincial legislature is doing nothing to commemorate the 225th anniversary of the creating of the Province of Ontario. He compared it to what his government did 25 years ago. I suspect those in power feel that the 200th anniversary was more of a moment but still, we need to celebrate our history. You can read more about it here.

For more reading about American and Canadian history told through a family’s experiences, try my historical fiction.

The Loyalist’s Wife 2nd edition
Second in the Loyalist Trilogy
Third in The Loyalist Trilogy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Brock and Mackenzie: Two Canadian Heroes

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William Lyon Mackenzie

Father of Responsible Government in Canada

Mackenzie Printery and Newspaper Museum, Queenston, Ontario. Photo by Elaine Cougler

A few weeks ago I was in Queenston, a small town along the Niagara River below Niagara Falls with a huge part in our Canadian history. In the building at right, which today houses the Mackenzie Printery and Newspaper Museum, lived for a short time a man who is called the father of responsible government here, William Lyon Mackenzie.

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Outside the beautifully restored stone building this inoperable press stands guard, a stalwart signal that this is a place of importance. Indeed it is.

For this was the place where Mackenzie lived when he turned his newspaper, The Colonial Advocate, into a vehicle of truth about the government of the day.

‘The Family Compact’, so-called because they shared among themselves all the important posts in Britain’s government of Upper Canada, raised the ire of many, including Mackenzie. In my second book of the Loyalist trilogy, the Garner family suffer the injustices visited upon them and their neighbours by this self-serving group. Men like William Lyon Mackenzie began to speak up for a better government.

Mackenzie was only in this home during 1823 and 1824 but a wonderful committee of volunteers undertook to save the building and turn this into a premier remembrance of Mackenzie’s living here for that time and of spectacular exhibits of the history of printing. The two are closely linked because Mackenzie used that medium to spread his word among the rebels and others of his day.

Check out the backgrounds of those on the board for a who’s who in the printing world that have carried on this tradition of volunteering their time to preserve the past. I’ll leave their web pages to tell the story. The photos are fantastic!

Major General Sir Isaac Brock

Bravely Died At Queenston Heights

In The Loyalist’s Luck one of my characters is present when Brock is killed. Robert is fighting for the Americans while his family is on the British side. They are forced up from the Niagara River into the gunfire coming from Queenstown Heights.

Robert heard the constant barrage of guns off to his left as, alone, he stepped out of the thicket at the top of the hill, but all seemed quiet here. He crept along, hunched over, his hands gripping his rifle, barely breathing.

Suddenly voices sounded ahead of him and he clenched his weapon. Not fifty feet away a tall red-jacketed officer wearing a brightly coloured sash and a hat decked out with gold braid and a white ostrich feather broke out of the trees and ran toward him. Robert dug in his feet and with shaking hands fired his weapon. Back into the thicket he flew, the falling white-haired officer filling his mind as he tore down the path to the shelter below. His chest heaved and his heart threatened to leap out of it both for the running and for his fear, which grew and grew. He thought he recognized the man he had felled.

No one really knows who killed General Brock. I used that fact to suggest that my fictional character, Robert, shot him in the above scene.

http://www.friendsoffortgeorge.ca/brocks-monument/ website

And, of course, very close by is the huge monument erected in memory of Sir Isaac Brock after that day. The photo above belies the actual height of this monument at 56 metres (185 feet).

On the Mackenzie Printery site stands another monument, this one to a horse. That’s right, a horse. His name was “Alfred” and he was Sir Isaac Brock’s mount on his famous ride from Fort George across the seven miles to Queenston to repel the American attack of October 13, 1812.

Below is the printing that is on the plaque in the photo above. Alfred’s likeness is enclosed in the glass and just through the trees above, Brock’s monument stands on guard.

“Alfred”

Early on the morning of October 13, 1812, after galloping seven miles from Fort George, General Brock tethered his gray horse here in the village of Queenston in order to lead a charge on foot to repel the invading enemy. Brock was killed leading the attack.

Colonel Macdonell then took command until General Sheaffe could arrive from Fort George with reinforcements. Macdonell rode “Alfred” to lead another charge. He was mortally wounded and Alfred was killed, part of the price of saving Canada on that fateful day.

Both of these amazing historical figures found their way into my Loyalist Trilogy and are part of Canadian History. This year we Canadians are celebrating our sesquicentennial, 150 years since confederation in 1867. Brock and Mackenzie, in different ways and many years before, laid the groundwork for Canada coming into existence.

 

The Loyalist Trilogy

Available on Amazon

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