Chapter 9
It was, I think, in the beginning of June, 1876, that: Mr. Wilson Smith came to Brantford, and a month later the well-known “Brantford Meeting” took place. Mr. Smith stayed at “Cedar Glen”, the Robinson’s large house, and it was there they prepared for the meeting. However, while seeing after all the manifold preparations for such a large gathering, he preached night after night in the Town Hall, which was always full. I do not remember that mother and I missed any meeting. To me they were most helpful; though I am sure I had been a Christian for years, I had never thoroughly understood the work of redemption and. Mr. Smith’s preaching made it so clear that I was at once helped and settled. One preaching in particular is vividly before me, on Luke 15. After speaking of the lost condition of the sheep, he said: “... and He laid it on His shoulders rejoicing, and then, did he weary of it and say ‘you awkward, clumsy sheep, I cannot carry you farther’? No, He took it all the way home”. I do not know why those words gave me so much comfort, but no doubt it was the Holy Spirit speaking peace to my soul.
The last of his meetings was for young believers. He spoke on Romans 12, “I beseech you therefore brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service”. He spoke of what the mercies were, of what the Father and Son had done for us and now, he said, it is for us to give up to Him our bodies for His service. This meeting made a profound impression on me. There was a definiteness about it which appealed to me. I went home and solemnly consecrated my body, my hands, my feet, my intellect, my will to God. I believe I was accepted, and that moment was the turning point in my life. From then on I felt I was a disciplined child, as if the Lord had said: “I have accepted what you have given me; now I must prepare it for use”. I do not by any means maintain that this is what everyone should do; I am only relating the facts as they occurred. I was little more than a child and very ignorant in every way, but I never felt more clearly that I was heard and answered than I did that day, and I have never regretted it. I never spoke of it for many years to anyone. It is strange how material things mix themselves in our minds with spiritual. I never think of those deeply helpful meetings without “jumbles” coming to my mind, for mother used to buy them for our supper as we walked home in the soft summer evenings. Another thing which perhaps affected me and made me more keenly sensitive at that time was the nervous condition I was in. At night I went over the music I had been playing in the day, note by note in my sleep, and during the day I was never free from headache, feeling as though water was rushing round my brain. I am convinced that I have never had as good control of my brain or as good a memory since.
I must now turn to an entirely different subject. When spending Christmas at Lady Robinson’s the previous winter, we had met Mrs. Ord and her daughter Violet, or Birdie as everyone called her. They told us of their wonderful experiences in Muskoka, a part of Ontario just being opened up, all lakes and islands. They had gone up by boat to a place called Port Carling, and spent a most delightful summer there, bathing and boating and picnicking. It sounded ideal, the very place I had so long dreamed of and we were all keen to go. Finally it was arranged that we and the Ords, who were a large family, should go and spend the summer on a big island belonging to a Mr. and Mrs. Lilly. They had once thought of farming it, I believe, and had built a small log house, and this the three families were to occupy. The prospect was entrancing and helped me through some weary weeks that summer. But at last school was closed, the music lessons were finished and the next important event was the great Brantford meeting.
The house at “Cedar Glen” was very large. Downstairs was a broad hall, with two immense rooms opening off each side, and they could be thrown into one, making a huge dancing hall. These rooms were to be used for the meals. Upstairs were ten bedrooms, all of which were to be used for guests. The house, which was approached by a broad drive, stood on a level piece of ground, possibly two or three acres, with the garden and out buildings. On each side it sloped down into a most picturesque ravine. Behind the house the ground also sloped down to a large orchard which was bounded by the river. Such cherries grew in that orchard and many times I have picked them. Not far from the house was a large building used as a barn and driving shed. This was prepared to hold the meetings in, and about it many beds of straw were arranged for the brothers. These preparations took much time and thought, but Mr. Wilson Smith grudged neither and he had willing helpers. Miss Harriet Wells of Guelph and Miss Alice Gausby both came to his assistance, and Sarah Bennett and I walked out more than once to render what help we could.
It was a happy time for all, but the happiest perhaps were Mr. Smith and Miss Wells, who during those pleasant summer days became betrothed and were afterwards happily married. Those who had homes in town arranged to take in all they could. Our guests were Dr. and Mrs. Ardagh from Barrie, who returned with Dora on the last day of June. Our cousins Minnie Glascott and her sister Sophie Cayley were also there and dear old Mrs. Reid of Bowmanville and her devoted daughter Annie. I think all these took tea with us on that evening and then Minnie and Sophie and the Reids went to the hotel, after promising me a seat in their cab in the morning, the conveyance my mother was providing being full. How well I remember that morning. I walked down to the hotel but could find no trace of cab or cousins. I was standing disconsolately on the sidewalk when a three seater democrat came up and a number of people proceeded to get in. One gentleman came up to me and asked me what I was waiting for. On my telling him he bade me get in at once, as they were all going to the “Glen”. That was my first introduction to our beloved brother Mr. Heney.
On arriving we all assembled in the big barn. There was a sort of low platform on one side and on it were seated a number of brothers. I would I had the pen of a ready writer to describe them. The central figure undoubtedly was Mr. Darby, an old man now and somewhat shaky on his feet, but with all the energy and spiritual vigor of youth. Near him sat Mr. Bennett of Brantford, a brother of many years standing, one who had been gathered out in Plymouth as a very young man, but was now white headed, though years younger than Mr. Darby. Lord Cecil was there, in a blue serge suit patched with blue velvet, and Mr. Dunlop and Mr. Heney, Mr. Talbot and Mr. Hatton Turner, that untiring tract distributor Mr. Baines too, from Montreal, and many, many more.
After prayer and singing, Mr. Darby opened the meeting by asking: “What shall we take up?” After a few minutes pause, Mr. Bennett replied: “Let us take up Ephesians”. But I cannot attempt to give an account of the meeting. In fact I have little or no remembrance of what was said. To begin with it was quite too deep for me to understand and my head was too tired to make the effort. I do remember an address of Mr. Baines on “Watching and Waiting for the Lord”. Lord Cecil and Mr. Baines preached powerfully every evening. On one occasion my brother was telling a neighbor at dinner of the interest of Brantford people in “a real live lord” preaching, when he found he was sitting in close proximity to that gentleman.
Mr. Darby was wonderful, in spite of the intense heat and not being at all well. He was at all the meetings and one day we had three, omitting the usual Gospel preaching. I believe that he said there was a great need for teaching and that Romans was more needed than Ephesians. He forgot no one and at once recognized my mother, though it was years since he had seen her. I can picture him now, walking from the house to the barn, assisted by Dr. Wolston and I think Mr. Wilson Smith; a strongly made, tall old man with a rugged kindly face. The weather was very hot and one of the brothers went into town and bought him a luster coat.
The last evening is vividly impressed on my mind. We were all driving back to Brantford in a large democrat. The carriage stopped by the ravine for one more farewell to those remaining at the house and someone began to sing “Then we’ll meet to part no more”. Everyone took it up and it was very impressive, the background of dark foliage, the lights of the house glimmering behind us and the strong voices of the brothers. Many of those who attended that meeting are in the glory, long since “entered into the joy of their Lord”. It was one of the largest meetings I was ever at. About 400 sat down to dinner on Sunday and the meeting lasted a whole week.
Immediately after the meeting I started with Dr. and Mrs. Ardagh for Barrie, leaving mother and Dora to follow later. After a pleasant fortnight there we all went on by Grand Trunk Railway to Gravenhurst, where we got a boat to the island in Lake Rousseau where Mrs. Ord and her family and Mr. and Mrs. Lilly and their son Frank had preceded us. I think that trip was as delightful as anything I ever experienced. We steamed slowly on, passing one island after another, all untouched by the hand of man. We went down the lovely winding river to Bracebridge and then back through Lake Muskoka and landed at Port Carling. From there we were rowed the four miles to the island.
Lilly’s Island, as it is still called, is of large extent but entirely covered with woods except a path which had been cut along the shore to the bathing house. Our party was a large one. Nineteen sat down to meals, and with such appetite’s as we had I have often wondered how Mrs. Ord and mother and Mrs. Lilly managed to satisfy us. Groceries had been brought up with us, but we had to row two miles every morning for milk, which was at once boiled, as no ice could be had. Meat was brought twice a week from Gravenhurst and thrown over the side of the steamer to the small boat which Craven Ord, a lad of eighteen, rowed out. We could get all the blueberries we needed for the picking; they grew in bushels everywhere. We think Muskoka lovely now but it is nothing to what it was then. Many of the islands were covered with moss a foot thick, all was quiet, no noisy motor boats puffed up and down, no hotels had been built. It seemed to me the embodiment of all I had desired for so long of wildness and simple life.
Birdie Ord was a good companion. She and I shared a small tent and how we loved it. Fred Robinson and Osmond Cayley both spent some time with us, also my brother. What picnics we had and what fishing. I remember going out with Arthur Ord and catching six two or three pounders before breakfast. One long expedition we took up to Port Cockburn in our large rowing boat. It is at the head of Lake Joseph and was long weary rowing, but eight young people managed it with very little trouble. There was an hotel there and our cousin Mrs. Frank Cayley was there with her baby and her sister-in-law Sophie. Sophie came for a visit to us later. She was very earnest and devoted and I became very much attached to her. She persuaded me to give up reading Tennyson, which I had brought with me. She was very strict and inclined to be legal, I think.
One day Fred, who was quite an artist, went over to the Eagle’s Nest, a lofty rock opposite to us, to paint. Something came in to hinder him and when he got back he found he had lost his paint box. He was in great distress and I offered to go over next morning and help him look for it, though in the wilderness of ferns, moss and underbrush it seemed rather a hopeless task. Sophie went with us and as soon as we landed we all knelt down and prayed that we might find it. It was only a few minutes after that one of us spied it. Fred was very anxious to get a sail boat and heard of one at Bracebridge, which he much desired to see. He persuaded mother to accompany him there and I went with them. It was a lovely trip. We stayed one night in a primitive little hotel and next day got a buckboard and drove out to the falls, some distance up the river. Here we picnicked and Fred sketched while I explored the neighboring wood, finding wonderful treasures in the way of flowers and berries.
Soon after this mother and Dora returned home. ‘The wild life did not appeal to them as it did to me. My mother must have had a great deal to do, which now after keeping camp for years I well understand, but I do not quite understand why my sister did not care for it. Of course she was rather older than the rest of the young people and her tastes did not lie in the same direction. The mosquitoes too were troublesome. Altogether she was anxious to go home, while I was equally anxious to remain. So mother suited us both by leaving me with Mrs. Ord for another two weeks.
Before mother left we decided to have one more picnic, which was to last all day. We started in the morning and stopped at an island (all were equally public and equally beautiful) for our dinner, and after exploring it went on to Port Carling, where Fred expected to find his boat. The boys were in wild spirits. First they took off Frank Lilly’s boots, which were full of holes, and threw them into the water. When I was not looking Craven Ord took away my watch and handed it to Osmond. On arriving at Port Carling a storm seemed to be coming up and we took refuge in an old boat house. Here we waited for hours, eating our supper and amusing ourselves as best we might. At last it became pitch dark and the thunder and lightning were terrible. Osmond undertook to go out and see how things were and it was so dark he walked right into the “lock”. He was a good swimmer and a flash of lightning coming, he managed to get out. Then Craven and Frank, becoming restless, went off and returned saying they had arranged for us to remain at the hotel all night. With a great deal of trouble we all got there and settled down, but Craven and Frank took the boat and went home to allay the fears of their mother. It must have been a dangerous row as the lake was wild.
One more incident and I have done with this first experience of camp life which appealed to me. We had a little nephew of Mrs. Ord’s staying with us and when the time came for him to return Craven invited me to go to Port Carling with him to see the child off. We made a very early start, having four miles to row and the steamer starting at seven o’clock. Craven took the skiff and put up a small sail, but when we got to the big lake the mast snapped in half with the wind. We rowed the rest of the way, put our little charge on the boat, bought $1.00 worth of brown sugar and a big pumpkin and turned for home. How beautiful the Carling River was then I cannot describe. Now it is like a well kept street in a big city. But that day we had not time to think of its beauty, for the wind blew fiercely and strong and as we came out of the river the waves were like mountains. I had never known fear and delighted in the storm, but as we pulled across the wide expanse of water before reaching an island the boat began to ship water. “You must bale,” said Craven, and I seized my big straw hat and baled as fast as I could, but the water came in faster than I could bale and our progress was slow. Finally we came to One Tree Island, a solitary rock with, as its name implies, one tree upon it. Craven sprang out, hastily lifted me on to the island and pulled up the boat it was now about nine o’clock and here we stayed, cold, hungry and wet, till late in the afternoon, when we managed to make the next island, where blueberries grew in abundance. At sundown the wind fell and we reached home as they were having supper. A few days later the whole party left for Toronto and our exciting summer was over.