CAPTAIN JOHN CAMPBELL.

IN the group of beautiful islands that lie west of the mainland of Argyle, and which attract tourists from every corner- of the world, is the island of Jura. Inconsiderable in itself, it seems to nestle in the bosom of its more pretentious neighbor, the island of Islay. Away to the west rise lonely and weirdlike Colonsay and Oronsay, on whose beetling cliffs dash the wild waves of the Atlantic Ocean, that roll without interruption from the icy hills of Greenland. On the mainland there looms up the scalp of the lofty Ben Lomond, and farther north, above Loch Awe, rise the hills round the dreary vale of Glencoe, where the perfidious Breadalbane satisfied his unrelenting vengeance by the perpetration of the most vile atrocity that ever disgraced any age or country. West of Glencoe are the silent solitudes of Morven, and near which is Moidart, where Bonnie Prince Charlie, of ill-starred fate, raised his standard in 1745, to fight for the crown of Auld Scotland, the heritage of his fathers. Close to the mainland here is the island of Iona, said to be the point at which Christianity was first introduced into Scotland, and whose ruined temples stand as silent memorials of the destroying hand of time, and the evanescence of all earthly things. Such are the surroundings of the little island of Jura, where the subject of this sketch was born on the 18th day of October, 1821. Mr. Campbell, or, as he is better known, Capt. Campbell, was the son of a farmer who, in connection with the operations on his farm, managed or acted as overseer on a larger holding occupied by the Laird. In this capacity his transactions in buying and selling of cattle and sheep were considerable, and led him in the course of his business to the markets on the mainland, where the confidence reposed in him by the Laird for his honesty and integrity allowed him free scope in the disposal of the goods. In the ordinary course of things, Mr. Campbell would likely have grown up and finally settled as a shepherd or small farmer in his native Jura, but the death of his father left him to some extent a free agent in choosing his own occupation in life. Mr. Campbell being only ten years old at the time of the death of his father, the widowed mother still kept the farm and managed to care for and educate her son, who was her only child, till he attained the age of seventeen. No son ever had a more kind and loving mother to watch over him than Mr. Campbell.

After the death of her husband her whole affections seemed to twine around him, and she was untiring in ministering to his comfort and the happiness of his family. And well did Mr. Campbell repay her for her kindness. No mother ever received more affectionate care and treatment from a son than she did from him. No matter whether he resided in a luxurious home in the city, or dwelt in the log shanty, a cozy spot was reserved for her. His conduct to her was most honorable to his head and creditable to his heart. It is therefore not too much to say that he, or any other man that shelters a mother in her widowhood, fulfils the highest attribute of the divine teaching, and whatever his life may be as to faults and failings, the world must be the better of his having lived.

At the age of seventeen Mr. Campbell decided to try his fortune in Canada. Up to this period he had been attending school and giving what assistance he could to his mother on the farm. The island only contained two schools, so that he had not much choice of teachers. But the parochial system introduced into Scotland by John Knox, the great reformer, supplied to the youth of that country a high standard of education. Mr. Campbell had availed himself of this, so much so that when he came to Canada he at once commenced teaching.

In the early summer of 1838 Mr. Campbell, accompanied by his mother, left his native land, she never to see it again, and he not till nearly fifty years had passed away. It was a brave undertaking to leave his friends and acquaintances and cast his lot among strangers in a distant land. But hope is ever high in the youthful breast. That buoyancy of heart which is peculiar to the young leads them on to dare all circumstances and surmount difficulties which, in after years, would appear to be insurmountable. The voyage from Glasgow to Quebec lasted for ten weeks. In those days the accommodation for the comfort and safety of the passengers was deplorable. It is not to be wondered at if the sorrowing friends left behind, as, with tears in their eyes, they sobbed a last farewell, would rather have seen the departing ones going to their graves. But it is said that fortune favors the brave. After the period of three months Mr. Campbell had reached the end of his hopes and was settled in the township of Darlington. He at once applied for and obtained a school, but the teaching of a school in the backwoods of Canada did not accord with his feelings. To a youth of his aspirations there was not much prospect of advancement in a country school. Honorable as the occupation undoubtedly is, it offered no prize for an ambitious youth. To be shut up day after day, grinding through the routine of lessons with a few small children in a little log school-house in the bush, did not harmonize very well with the feelings of one who from his youth had roamed among the hills and dales o,' he Western Highlands. There he was free as the air of his native mountain; here his duty had to be done, so long as he retained his position, in doing what he could for the little ones committed to his care. His first year was his last one in the profession) and he laid aside the taws, turning his back upon the blackboard never again to return. He was now completing his nineteenth year and naturally desired a wider sphere for his ambition. In his island home he had been accustomed from his very infancy to look on the sea. He was familiar with the ocean in all its various moods. He had seen it raging like a lion and casting its white foam up to the very door of the cottage where he dwelt, and he had seen it calm as a sleeping child. For him a storm had no terrors, and a calm was simply monotony. He determined therefore to go to sea, and from this time his active life may be said to have begun.

At the age of nineteen Mr. Campbell bade adieu to his friends and commenced his apprenticeship as a sailor. It is said “there is no royal road to learning;” so there was no royal road for him to a captaincy on the iuland seas of his adopted country. He began his career at the bottom of the ladder, and worked his way step by step to the top. As a deck hand he had to perform the menial labor of a deck hand. He had no powerful interest at his back to push him ahead. Whatever he accomplished in his new occupation he had to do it himself. The position of a common sailor at that time did not entitle him to much regard. His employers merely looked on him as something that they could use for a consideration and at the end of the season cast it off. There was only one way in which he could hope to succeed (and this will apply to all young men starting life), and that was by honestly discharging his duties and by taking such interest in the business of his employers as to render himself necessary to the successful carrying out of their speculations. This Mr. Campbell did with a will and hearty endeavor that at once drew the attention of those whose duty it was to watch over his conduct. At the end of his first year before the mast his efforts in the interest of the owners merited such appreciation that he was offered the command of a vessel for the next season. This offer he declined. He did not consider that in the short space of one year he had sufficiently mastered the details of his business to assume the command of a vessel. He returned to Darlington to his mother’s home for the winter. The next year he returned to his post again before the mast, and served the season with great acceptance to his employers, so much so that he was offered and accepted tlie position of mate. During the few years he had been on deck, with the characteristic frugality of his nation, he had saved his earnings. When at the age of twenty-five years he received the appointment on the ship Minerva, he bought an interest in this vessel, on which he held the command for three years.

The Province of Ontario was being settled rapidly at this time, both in the centre and in the west, which greatly increased the trade from the various ports on Lake Ontario. To accommodate this increased traffic the Canadian Government decided to make certain improvements in the harbors between Toronto and Kingston. The conduct of Mr. Campbell had attracted the attention of the authorities, and he was offered and accepted the position of superintendent of the survey and deepening the harbor at Cobourg. He at once gave up the captaincy on the Minerva and entered on his duties as manager of the Cobourg harbor improvements. He continued in this service until the work was completed and a channel dredged to deep water with such skill and care that it has required but little attention ever since.

At the completion of this work he removed to Col-borne, on Lake Ontario. Here he superintended the building of the ship Trade Wind, in which craft he also had an interest. This vessel is still afloat. He was appointed captain and sailed her for one year. It is important to note here that no Canadian ship had ever sailed to Chicago, which was then being spoken of as a point of some importance on Lake Michigan. Nearly all the trading with the few ships owned in Ontario at that time was done between Buffalo, Oswego, Kingston, and intermediate ports on Lake Ontario. The vast country away to the north and west was still a wilderness. Except a few brave adventurers, no white man had penetrated very far into the prairie solitudes, which are to-day the garden of America. During the few years that Mr. Campbell sailed before the mast he made several trips to Chicago and Milwaukee on American vessels, but never on a Canadian. The honor of first sailing into Chicago under the British flag was to be his own, as will be noticed later on. After leaving this vessel the Captain’s next appointment was to the command of the Water Witch, which at that time was owned in Buffalo, by an American gentleman of somewhat eccentric character. This appointment he looks upon as one of the strange events in his life. He is somewhat of a fatalist in his opinions. He thinks with Hamlet “That there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamed of in thy philosophy.” On a wild and stormy season, about the middle of November, Mr. Campbell was in the city of Buffalo. It was near the close of navigation on the lakes, and ships were fast making for their winter quarters. He was sick and confined to his bed in a hotel frequented by the sailors and captains navigating the lakes. One evening a gentleman called and asked the proprietor if among the seamen at his house he could get one to go with him to Chicago. Several men presented themselves, but were not suitable. On further questioning, the proprietor of the hotel informed him that there was only one hand he had not seen, and he was sick in his room. The gentleman went to the room where Mr. Campbell lay, and at once pronounced him to be the very man he was looking for. Although never having seen each other before, it was arranged that the ship should not sail for a couple of days till he would be well enough to go aboard. In a day or two they sailed, the owner of the ship in command. The weather was rough and the lake seemed to be swept to its very depths by a terrific storm. As evening came on the wind grew more wild and increased in fury. A long, dark night was fast settling down on the troubled waters. Great seas swept over the deck and threatened every moment to suck her down to destruction with all on board. The Captain was incapable, and appeared helpless when the fate of all on board depended to a considerable extent on his judgment. The gale was still increasing. The rolling of the ship and the water rushing over her decks made it dangerous for the men to attend to any duty. The Captain at last asked if any one on board could take the vessel through the channel to which they were fast approaching. All declined, when Mr. Campbell informed him that he had passed through the channel several times when a deck hand, but never as commander. Mr. Campbell was at once put in command of the ship. The steersman was ordered to steer according as he directed. At this part of the lake there are two channels, one on the American and the other on the Canadian side. The Canadian one, though narrower, he considered safer. He gave directions to steer for the Canadian side. It was now dark, and the gale was apparently increasing. The sound of the rushing waters as they dashed on the ship, and the wind whistling in the cordage of the masts, made it almost impossible for orders to be heard. On this occasion Mr. Campbell says he trembled as he stood at his post.

It was the only time in his life as a sailor that he ever knew fear. But he had to do his duty, and his duty he did like a man. The safety of the ship and all the lives on board were commited to his charge. As he stood at the watch his garments were soaked with water and the night was cold. But on they plunged through the darkness and the tumultuous waters. At length the grey dawn began to brighten in the east, and he found that the danger was past as they slowly entered the Detroit River. ‘When they arrived at Chicago the owner of the ship gave instructions to him to fit her up to suit himself and sail her where he pleased. Thus he became Captain of the Water Witch, whose deck was his home till he left the lakes for a farm in Blanshard. He accordingly returned to Canada, refitted the ship, hoisted the British flag, sailed from Kingston to Chicago with a cargo of Liverpool salt for Mr. Armour, the great speculator of the west. This then is the first occasion on which the British flag was ever seen in the Chicago river, flying from the masts of a Canadian ship. While he was in port Mr. Armour drove him out to his pork-packing establishment, which was then considerable and formed the neucleus of the vast business of the present. In the course of his little trip Mr. Campbell noticed a number of excrescences on Mr. Armour’s hands, which the vulgar people call warts. The Captain, no doubt, in his younger days had heard and read of Esculapius, but whether he knew anything of the compounds of lard and smut prepared by that ancient practitioner for the cure of these things, history sayeth not. This, however, history doth say, that he applied a charm known only to himself, (it was in Gaelic), and on his next visit to Chicago Mr. Armour presented himself on the ship with hands as smooth and white as a rector’s. The cure was complete. But there being no cordwood in that Prairie City to reward the new disciple of Galen, Mr. Armour’s gratitude for such happy results took the shape of a barrel of pork.

There is yet another incident we must relate in connection with this voyage. Being in port at Kingston, Mr. Campbell was introduced to a gentleman from England, Mi'. J. Edward Wilkins. This gentleman was of good family, but reduced in circumstances. He afterwards made several trips on Mr. Campbell’s ship to ports on the lower Lakes. On this occasion he came with him as far as Chicago. At that time there was no British Consul in the city, and he experienced much difficulty, as the master of a foreign vessel, in getting his papers to trade in a foreign port. Mr. Wilkins became aware of this fact and informed him that if he would state all the difficulties in connection therewith, he would memorialize the British Government to appoint a consul at this point. Mr. Campbell accordingly drew up a paper setting forth the whole case, which Mr. Wilkins put in proper form and sent to the Old Country. Mr. Wilkins seems to have had influence enough with some of the members of the government in London to insure prompt attention to the memorial-A few months later an answer came to Mr. Wilkins acknowledging the receipt of the papers and also another document appointing him as the first British Consul in the city. Thus Mr. Campbell has not only the honor of sailing the first ship carrying British colors into Chicago, but also the honor of being instrumental in the appointment of the first British Consul. We have thus followed him from the period of his teaching in the little log school in the backwoods up to the distinguished place he then held as one of the most competent and painstaking masters sailing on the Great Lakes.

HIS MARRIAGE

We must now return in our narrative to a period some years prior to those occurrences which we have related. There are events transpiring in the life of every man the effects of which sometimes change the whole course of events, and give a different coloring to his future conduct. Almost every man who has reached the three score, in looking back over his career will be able to point to such, that stand like milestones on his track, and by which he sums up his existence, rather than by those mechanical methods introduced by civilized nations for the computation of time. From one of these points we will again proceed with this sketch. On the 22nd of December, 1848, Mr. Campbell was united in marriage to Margaret McDougall, the daughter of a farmer in Darlington. It is presumable that this lady was one of his former pupils, when he taught the school in the woods. She was several years his junior, being 18 years old, Mr. Campbell being 26. After his marriage he removed to Kingston, where he resided for some years. Mrs. Campbell, although having lived all her life on a farm, was a good sailor and made a number of trips with her husband, going as far west as Chicago. But city life had no charms for her. She still was anxious to return to the farm. Mr. Campbell, though still young, was threatened with failing health. The exposure arising from the nature of his calling began to tell on him. He felt that to stay on the deck much longer was to incur a serious risk. A young family was growing up around him, and the solicitations of his wife, added to those of his mother, finally influenced him to leave his chosen occupation and go to a farm. To decide with him was to act. He sold off his household goods, and early in the fifties came into the Township of Blanshard. He had paid a visit to the township in 1843, when it was a wilderness, and located what was afterwards the Dawson farm, but failed to complete the arrangements and thereby lost the property. During his visit in 1843 he was so much impressed with the country that as soon as he determined to live on the farm, he at once came to Blanshard.

COMING TO BLANSHARD

Near the top of the hill that rises from the banks of Fish Creek there stood in the early fifties a shanty in the centre of a small clearing. This was on lot 6, in the 9th concession. Into this humble dwelling he removed his household goods. The change must have been very great indeed to one who had followed his mode of life. This man who had been the first to carry the flag of his country into the new centre of the west, and who was instrumental in having a consul appointed to facilitate the transaction of business between the two countries, must have had more than an ordinary share of philosophy to submit to such a change. But he had seen what had been accomplished in the older settlements. He had seen the shanty give place to a home, if not of luxury, at least of comfort. He had seen men on the farm, after the great fight with nature was over, spend their remaining years on the fertile acres they had hewed from the forest, in ease and contentment. What had been done by one in this manner another might accomplish. He determined to try. It will be easily understood that Mr. Campbell would be greatly handicapped in his efforts at clearing a farm or carrying out the details of farm management. But he was nobly supported by his wife. There was no detail of the farm with which she was not conversant. Margaret, as he called her, was always consulted, and it was well for him that he usually acted as she advised. She was master of every piece of farm work, either indoors or out of doors. She was a great worker in the field, in the dairy, and in the stable. Slightly built and wiry looking, she appeared never to be fatigued. It is not too much to say that the proprietor of “Stewart Castle” owes much of the comfort and luxurious belongings of his present condition to the untiring energy and industry of his wife. His new farm had to be cleared, however, and he started with a will. He had the honor of raising the first frame bam in that part of the township. Every winter a fallow was chopped down; then logged and fenced the next summer. He was a prosperous man. He had cattle in the yard, hogs in the pen, and, what was then a rare thing in that part of the township, horses in the stable. These horses were for several years the plague of his life. He fed them well, and being of nervous temperament, they were difficult to manage. It was one of the sights of a lifetime to see him after Dan and Jim, as he called them, plowing a new, stumpy field with a shovel plow. They went like deer over knolls, through hollows, round big stumps, Mr. Campbell holding on to the handles like grim death. Here and there he would catch on a big root, which would fly back and strike him on the shin with terrible force. This would provoke an outpouring of the spirit in words which separately and by themselves were not unscriptural, but he had the faculty of placing them in such combinations as are not taught in Sunday-schools.

FIRST LOG RAISING

It is now nearly forty years since we met at Mr. Campbell’s place to raise his first log building. This building still stands, a monument to the skill and handiwork of the old pioneers. It was a delightful morning, about the beginning of April. The frost of the previous night was fast giving way before a hot sun that shone from a cloudless sky. Here and there in the still woods one could see the curling smoke rise from the various sugar camps where the supply of sweets was being made for the summer. Along the concessions and side-roads and emerging from the woods, men could be seen coming to assist in the raising. On our arrival our attention was first attracted by the kindly salutation of the grog boss, who was already on the ground with a teacup and an immense jug of what was recommended as the pure stuff. All the hands took what was called a “corker,” to relieve the fatigue of the walking. A “corker” was never taken except in the morning. The potations indulged in during the day were called “a wee tint,” which being interpreted meant “a half cupful.” The corner men were now in their places and sharpening their axes ready to lay down the logs as they came up. The “togglers” were preparing the toggling-timber for the doors. The oxen were hauling the “skids” and the “mulley’s.” Handspikes were being got ready, the short skids peeled and mulleys pinned and tied at the forked end. At last a great log was hauled by the oxen in front of the foundation and across the bottom of the skids. Then the noise began. The shouting, the yelling, and hurrahing could be heard far away in the woods. Every man lifted all he could and shouted all he could. Babel was but a trifle to the noise and confusion at the raising of a log building. Here you could hear the voice of an Irishman shouting “tear-anages! send her up or smash her!” Again you would hear the snort of a Yorkshireman counselling milder measures than “smashing her.” There could be heard a volley of Gaelic from a champion from the braes of Strathpieffer, while away above the din, in a shrill treble voice, an old son of the heather yelled, “chairge her! hoo the diel dinna yae chairge her % ” At last the log reached the “corner men,” who placed it in position with a dexterity truly marvellous. So we followed round the building till the first round was in place. The sun had now taken effect on the frozen ground, and the mud was almost without bottom. At length the noon hour arrived, when helter-skelter all hands started for the shanty. At that time the hog supplied the only animal food that was used among the old settlers. A glance at the walls of Mr. Campbell’s dwelling showed that he had made ample provision for the family. Great hams and sides of pork hung everywhere. On the tables for the men was pork fried, pork roasted, and pork boiled. There was pork in slices, pork in whangs, and pork in chunks ; mashed potatoes by the peck, and great pyramids of sliced bread were piled here on the board and flanked by several bottles of the “pure stuff.” All this was the sort of food for men who, every day of their lives, had to undergo the severest physical toil. As the supplies on the board disappeared fresh augmentations were brought from side tables and placed in position, which in turn were demolished with promptness and despatch, affording the strongest proof of the palatability of the viands, and the unappeasable appetite of the guests. But it is possible to satisfy even a hungry pioneer, and the men returned to complete the work of finishing the building, all happy and pleased with themselves.

PERSONAL TRAITS

Mr. Campbell, during his long period of nearly fifty years’ residence in Blanshard, has never taken a very active part in the public affairs of the municipality. Had he been so disposed he might have filled the highest offices in the gift of the people. But he was rather of a retiring disposition and never courted popularity. In all the questions that have come before the people of the township he always took part in the discussion in connection with them, but left their final settlement to other men. He was township assessor for one year, and on presentation of his roll received a vote of thanks from the Council for the best roll that up to that time had ever been given to the Board. He also filled the office of auditor for over twenty years, which was always conferred on him without being asked. He is a most hospitable man, and “Stewart Castle” is widely known for its generous and kind treatment of his many friends or of the stranger that may come within its gates. He is a most intense Jacobite and reveres the memories of the ill-fated Stuart. He glories in the fact that after the annihilation of their hopes on the field of Culloden, no one among his famishing and persecuted countrymen could be found to sell the blood of poor unfortunate Prince Charles. The pitiable story of Mary Stuart, her splendor and her misfortunes, always excites his deepest feelings. The thought of the cruelties and indignities to which she was subjected by her persecutors rouse his strongest execrations. He seems to lose faith in the divine plan for building up the brotherhood of man, when it has to be cemented by the blood of the noble and the brave, and the tears of the helpless and broken hearted. He is passionately fond of music, and particularly the songs of his native country. As a performer, our regard for truth forbids us giving him a high place. His masterpiece is “ Burns and his Highland Mary,” and his rendering of that melody is such that we could not recommend any person to go far to hear it. In the musical line this was always his highest and last flight, and I believe his audiences were always glad of it. As a dancer, even at the age of nearly fourscore years, he is perfect, and his performances are such as to excite the most fervent admiration of the devotees of the terpsichorean art. In politics he has been a life-long Reformer, but is not obtrusive with his opinions, rarely speaking about political matters. He is an adherent of the Presbyterian Church, but takes no active part in the affairs of religion.

In personal appearance, thirty-five years ago, when he was at his best, he was strong and robust looking, about average height, deep chested, straight, and well proportioned. He is kindly in his family, although not at all demonstrative in his affections. He is most honorable in all his relations with his fellowmen. He is a true Scotchman, and glories in the success of auld Scotia's sons. But we must now close this imperfect sketch of the life of Captain John Campbell. In doing so we can heartily endorse the kindly feelings expressed by his numerous friends at his golden wedding, on the 22nd of December last. We therefore, in common with all his well-wishers, trust that he may be long spared to toddle around “Stewart Castle,” and that the evening of his life may calmly glide away into the sunset, when the grim reaper comes forth to gather in the sheaves.