Orillia and Leacock Found in an American Furniture History; Cookery Archives Year Two

1960's Reprint about the recovery of shipwrecks from the waters of the Isle of Wight

Diocese of Huron Churches circa 2006

Orillia Furniture and Carriage Plant circa 1926

"A COMPLETED CENTURY," 1826-1926, THE HEYWOOD-WAKEFIELD COMPAY - HISTORIC AMERICAN CHAIR MANUFACTURER WITH A MARIPOSA CONNECTION

THE LITTLE BONUS WITHIN - REFERENCE TO ORILLIA

     SUNDAY. A DAY OF MODEST REST, IN BETWEEN ADVENTURES. IT WAS A GREAT DAY FOR GARDENING. OOPS. THERE ARE THREE FEET OF SNOW IN THE WAY OF GETTING TO THE GARDENS. SO IT WAS A BETTER DAY, BY FAR, FOR BEING ON A MOTOR TRIP LOOKING FOR ANTIQUES AND COLLECTABLES. GADS IT WAS GOOD TO GET OUT AND WALK WITHOUT FEAR OF CARTWHEELING OVER THE ICE. IT WAS A DAY, BY GOLLY, WHEN DAWDLING WAS ENCOURAGED. THE SUN WAS LIFE-RESTORING, AND HONESTLY, I JUST WANTED TO FIND A PARK BENCH AND FALL ASLEEP IN THE AFTERNOON GLOW. SUZANNE KEEPS ME MOVING, USING HER ELBOW AS A SORT OF HAPPENSTANCE CATTLE PROD. BUT THE ALLURE OF ANTIQUES, AND GOOD BOOKS, IS ALWAYS GREATER THAN THE ATTRACTION OF SUNNY SOLITUDE. SO WE SOLDIERED ON, AND IT'S GOOD WE DID. WE WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO CLAIM THE INTERESTING TREASURES, WE FERRETED-OUY, IF WE'D FALLEN PREY TO SPRING FEVER, BEING LULLED TO LEISURE BY A MUCH KINDER, GENTLER NATURE.
   WE TOOK A TRIP TO ORILLIA, AND ENJOYED A GREAT LUNCH AT THE MARIPOSA MARKET, WHERE THE CURRIE FAMILY HAS BEEN GOING ON SUNDAYS, SINCE BOTH OUR LADS WERE IN BABY CARRIAGES. IT'S A HAVEN FOR US WANDERING ANTIQUE DEALERS, AND IT'S WHERE WE GATHER AFTER WE HIT OUR RESPECTIVE COLLECTING HOT SPOTS; WE HAVE OUR OWN FISHING HOLES YOU MIGHT SAY. I DON'T THINK WE'VE BEEN AS CHIPPER SINCE THE SNOWS OF WINTER CAME. SO WE TOOK A FEW MOMENTS TO BASK IN THE SUN IN BETWEEN SHOPPING VISITS. AS USUAL, WE ALL FOUND INTERESTING TREASURES, FROM RECORDS, VINTAGE CLOTHING, BOOKS AND ART WORK. THE PICTURES ABOVE SHOW THE TWO BOOKS, "BACK OF THE WIGHT," AND "A LIGHT IN THE FOREST -150 YEARS OF THE DIOCESE OF HURON," BOTH BOOKS FOR THE SHOP SHELVES. "THE BACK OF THE WIGHT," PUBLISHED IN THE ISLAND OF WIGHT, IS A CHRONICLE OF THE SHIPWRECKS THAT HAVE OCCURRED AROUND THE ISLAND, AND WAS FIRST PUBLISHED IN THE 1930'S. I PICKED UP A 1960'S RE-ISSUE, WITH A MODERN ERA UPDATE, REGARDING A RECENT SHIPWRECK (JUST BEFORE THE REPRINT ISSUE WAS RELEASED), TO ADD TO THE LIST OF VESSELS SUNK OFF ITS SHORE; FROM SCHOONERS, STEAMSHIPS, TO MODERN SHIPS. THIS IS A WELL PRESERVED COPY WITH SOME INTERESTING TALES OF SHIPWRECKS AND RESCUES, DATING BACK INTO THE 1800'S. THE HISTORY OF THE DIOCESE OF HURON, IS AN IMPORTANT REFERENCE TEXT, WITH A HUGE COLLECTION OF PHOTOGRAPHS OF ITS HISTORIC REGIONAL CHURCHES. THIS IS ONE OF THOSE REGIONAL ONTARIO PUBLICATIONS THAT WE SELL FREQUENTLY, BECAUSE IT APPEALS TO A LARGE NUMBER OF OUR CUSTOMERS, VISITING FROM SOUTHERN ONTARIO. THIS IS A PRISTINE CONDITION COPY, AND FOR SEVERAL BUCKS, I WISH THERE HAD BEEN A DOZEN OF THEM.
     THE BIG FIND OF THE DAY, CONTAINED AN UNEXPECTED BONUS SECTION, I HADN'T BEEN AWARE OF, WHEN I MADE THE PURCHASE. THE HARDCOVER EDITION IS SIMPLY ENTITLED "A COMPLETED CENTURY." I PULLED IT DOWN FROM THE TOP SHELF OF A SECOND HAND BOOK STORE, IN ORILLIA, AND I WAS PLEASANTLY SURPRISED TO FIND OUT IT WAS A HISTORY OF ONE OF THE MOST FAMOUS FURNITURE MANUFACTURERS IN THE UNITED STATES. THE BOOK WAS A COMMEMORATION OF THE "HEYWOOD-WAKEFIELD COMPANY," IN RESPECT TO ITS CENTENNIAL YEAR, AND WAS PUBLISHED ON JANUARY 1ST, 1926. IT WAS PUBLISHED BY D.B. UPDIKE, THE MERRYMOUNT PRESS, OF BOSTON. IN THE ANTIQUE TRADE, BOOKS LIKE THIS ARE QUITE IMPORTANT, BECAUSE THIS IS A SOURCE REFERENCE GUIDEBOOK, AND NOT AN INTERPRETATION, OR EDUCATED OVERVIEW, CARRIED IN A NEWER, GENERAL PUBLICATION. IF YOU ARE INTERESTED IN EARLY MANUFACTURED FURNITURE, INCLUDING PIECES MADE OF RUTTAN, THIS IS THE "HORSE'S MOUTH" OF BOOKS. YOU JUST CAN'T GET A BETTER SOURCE ON THIS INDUSTRY, THAN ONE THE COMPANY PRODUCED ON ITS OWN CHRONICLE. SO WITH A HALF PRICE SALE ON, WHICH PARED THE COST DOWN TO SEVEN BUCKS, I LET SUZANNE KNOW, (THE COMPANY ACCOUNTANT), THAT I WASN'T LEAVING THE SHOP EMPTY HANDED. SHE KNOWS WHEN I'M FIRM LIKE THIS, SHE HAS TO LOOSEN THE PURSE STRINGS. IF I'M WISHY-WASHY, SHE KNOWS HOW TO MANIPULATE ME INTO SUBMISSION, BY OFFERING A FEW WELL PLACE CRITIQUES ABOUT CONDITION, OR WHAT WE CAN GET AS A MARK-UP PRICE, WITH A SENSIBLE PROFIT. THE OPENING OF THE BOOK READS AS FOLLOWS:
     "IN 1826, THE LITTLE TOWN OF GARDNER, MASSACHUSETTS, FIFTY-EIGHT MILES NORTHWEST OF BOSTON, ON A HEIGHT OF LAND IN THE PICTURESQUE COUNTRY, BETWEEN THE CONNECTICUT AND MERRIMACK RIVERS, HAD LESS THAT A THOUSAND INHABITANTS. HERE IN THAT YEAR THE 'HEYWOOD BROTHERS,' BEGAN TO MAKE CHAIRS IN A LITTLE SHED ADJACENT TO THEIR FATHER'S FARMHOUSE, WHERE THE CITY HALL STANDS TODAY. SUCH WAS THE MODEST BEGINNING OF THE GARDNER PLANT OF THE HEYWOOD-WAKEFIELD COMPANY - THE HISTORY OF WHICH EXTENDS BACK TO THE EARLIEST DAYS OF CHAIRMAKING IN AMERICA. ASSOCIATED WITH EACH OF THE VARIED INDUSTRIES THAT HAVE MADE NEW ENGLAND A GREAT MANUFACTURING CENTRE, THERE IS OFTEN A SINGLE NAME WHICH A MENTION OF THE INDUSTRY AT ONCE SUGGESTS. TO CHAIR MANUFACTURE THE NAME OF HEYWOOD BEARS THIS RELATION."
     WHILE THE BOOK IS A GREAT REFERENCE GUIDE FOR THEIR FURNITURE, ESPECIALLY THE RUTTAN WING OF THE ENTERPRISE, INCLUDING BABY CARRIAGES, AND COTTAGE FURNISHINGS, THERE IS A SECTION THAT BEGINS ON PAGE 42, THAT MAKES THIS AN IMPORTANT REGIONAL BOOK AS WELL. THE SECTION IS HEADED, "ORILLIA - HEYWOOD-WAKEFIELD COMPANY OF CANADA." THERE IS AN ACCOMPANYING PHOTOGRAPH OF THE PLANT AS WELL. THE NEAT HISTORICAL QUALITY OF THE SMALL SECTION, IS THE REFERENCE, IN AN INDUSTRIAL OVERVIEW OF FURNITURE MANUFACTURING, TO ORILLIA'S FAMOUS AUTHOR. THIS IS ONE OF THE MOST UNUSUAL INSERT PARAGRAPHS I'VE EVER READ, IN ONE OF THESE INDUSTRIAL, COMMERCIAL CHRONICLES, WHICH IN MORE THAN ONE WAY, MAKES IT A RARE FIND. IT BEGINS THUSLY:
     "THE TOWN OF ORILLIA, MOST FAMOUS, PERHAPS, FOR BEING THE SCENE OF STEPHEN LEACOCK'S 'SUNSHINE SKETCHES OF A LITTLE TOWN,' LIES IN THE PROVINCE OF ONTARIO, NINETY MILES NORTH OF TORONTO, WHERE LINES OF THE CANADIAN NATIONAL RAILWAY CROSSING THOSE OF THE CANADIAN PACIFIC RAILWAY AFFORD EXCELLENT SHIPPING FACILITIES." KEEP IN MIND, THAT "SUNSHINE SKETCHES OF A LITTLE TOWN," WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN 1912, AND THIS BOOK WAS RELEASED IN 1926, WHCIH IS A RELATIVELY SHORT PERIOD TO BECOME WORTHY OF MENTION AS THE STARTING SENTENCE OF A MAJOR REFERENCE, TO ONE OF THE COMPANY'S MANUFACTURING PLANTS. IT SHOWS A HIGH REGARD FOR LEACOCK AND THE COMMUNITY OF ORILLIA.
     "HERE, IN 1921, A SMALL ASSEMBLING PLANT WAS ESTABLISHED, THE PERSONNEL OF WHICH CONSISTED OF FIVE EMPLOYEES. BABY-CARRIAGE PARTS, MANUFACTURED BY THE PLANT IN MENOMINEE, WERE SENT TO ORILLIA TO BE ASSEMBLED FOR THE CANADIAN TRADE. THREE QUARTERS OF THE TWENTY-FIVE HUNDRED FEET OF FLOOR SPACE WERE DEVOTED TO WAREHOUSE PURPOSES. THE BUSINESS PROSPERED, AND TO THE LITTLE CORNER OF SPACE LEASED, AN ADDITIONAL FORTY THOUSAND SQUARE FEET WERE ADDED. MANUFACTURING OPERATIONS BEGAN WITH THE INSTALLATION OF TWO OF THE LLOYD LOOMS AND THE NECESSARY COMPLEMENT OF FIBRE TWISTING MACHINERY. AS TIME WENT ON, MORE AND MORE OF THE MANUFACTURING ACTIVITIES OF MENOMINEE WERE DUPLICATED, UNTIL TODAY THE GREATER PART OF THE MANUFACTURING OF THE ORILLIA PRODUCT IS DONE IN ORILLIA ITSELF.
     "IN MARCH, 1923, THE BUSINESS WAS INCORPORATED UNDER THE LAWS OF THE DOMINION AS HEYWOOD-WAKEFIELD COMPANY OF CANADA, LTD. ALFRED J. LLOYD, FORMERLY AN EMPLOYEE OF THE MENOMINEE PLANT, AND A NEPHEW OF MARSHALL B. LLOYD, WAS APPOINTED FACTORY MANAGER. THE BUSINESS HAS GROWN STEADILY, AND ALTHOUGH THE NUMBER OF EMPLOYEES AVERAGES ONLY THIRTY-FIVE, THAT FACT IS NOT AT ALL INDICATIVE OF THE VOLUME OF PRODUCTION, SINCE, WITH MODERN MACHINERY AND METHODS, THE AMOUNT OF LABOR IS KEPT AT A MINIMUM, AND THE PLANT, DESPITE ITS SMALL FORCE OF EMPLOYEES, RANKS WITH THE LARGEST CARRIAGE-PRODUCING CONCERNS IN THE DOMINION. THE CANADIAN COMPANY MAINTAINS A SALESROOM AND WAREHOUSE FACILITIES IN MONTREAL." THE BOOK IS IN FAIR OVERALL CONDITION. FOR A REFERENCE GUIDE OF THIS IMPORTANCE, A LITTLE BIT OF WEAR, AND SOME THUMB SMUDGES ON A FEW OF THE PAGES, IS A SMALL INTRUSION UPON ITS INTEGRITY, AND DOESN'T DIMINISH THE VALUATION. THE BOOK IS SIGNED, AND I EXPECT THAT IT BELONGED TO A FORMER EMPLOYEE OF THE ORILLIA PLANT. IT IS INSCRIBED "H.O. MARSHALL."
     SUZANNE PICKED UP A COUPLE OF VINTAGE COOKBOOKS, ONE IN PARTICULAR FROM ORILLIA, PUBLISHED IN 1947,  ENTITLED "HOME TESTED RECIPES COOK BOOK," COMPILED AND PUBLISHED BY LADY MARGARET ALEXANDER, CHAPTER IMPERIAL ORDER OF DAUGHTERS OF THE EMPIRE," PUBLISHED BY THE ORILLIA PACKET AND TIMES. A GREAT LITTLE BOOK FOR SUZANNE'S COOKERY ARCHIVES, WHICH WE KEEP AT THE SHOP. THERE ARE SOME GREAT ORILLIA ADS FROM THE PERIOD, PUBLISHED IN THE TEXT. BUILDING A COOKERY COLLECTION, ONE BOOK AT A TIME, HAS CERTAINLY BEEN AN ADVENTURE, BUT AFTER A YEAR OF INTENSIVE WORK ON THE PROJECT, WE'RE A QUARTER OF THE WAY TO OUR OBJECTIVE, OF HAVING IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD OF FIVE THOUSAND VINTAGE AND OUT OF PRINT COOKBOOKS, WITH GREAT EMPHASIS ON CANADIAN COOKERY. WE HAVE A HUGE BINDER OF HANDWRITTEN RECIPES WE SHARE WITH OUR CUSTOMERS, RESEARCHING SOME OF THE COOKERY MAGIC THAT THEIR GRANDMOTHERS ONCE CREATED, IN THOSE HUMBLE HOMESTEAD KITCHENS. IT'S A DIFFERENT SIDE TO HISTORICAL RESEARCH, THAN I'VE BEEN INVOLVED WITH, IN THE PAST, BUT IT'S THE FIRST TIME SUZANNE AND I HAVE FULLY CO-OPERATED IN ONE AREA OF COLLECTING, TO REACH AN OBJECTIVE. WHILE WE STILL HAVE A LONG WAY TO GO, WE'VE AT LEAST PASSED THE FIRST TOUGH OBSTACLES, OF FINDING THESE IMPORTANT OLD BOOKS, WITHOUT BREAKING THE BANK. THIS IS WHERE OUR BOOK SLEUTHING CAPABILITIES COME IN, BECAUSE WE COULDN'T AFFORD TO BUY THESE BOOKS FOR RETAIL PRICE. YOU HAVE TO BE CUNNING AND A STEALTH HUNTER-GATHERER, TO ACCOMPLISH A WORTHY COLLECTION, FOR A FRACTION OF ITS VALUATION. YES, IT IS A COMPETITION. BUT MOSTLY, A CHALLENGE WE CREATED FOR OURSELVES, TO SEE, IF AFTER ALL THESE YEARS OF COLLECTING, AND WRITING REGIONAL HISTORIES, WE STILL HAD THE MOJO TO TAKE ON ONE MORE MAJOR PROJECT; BUILDING A COOKERY ARCHIVES AND COLLECTION. SEEING AS WE HAVE NO PLANS TO RETIRE, EVER, WE EXPECT TO REACH OUR OBJECTIVE SAFELY, BEFORE MR. REAPER COMES FOR HIS HARVEST. THIS IS OUR WAY OF BEATING A NEGATIVE WITH A POSITIVE. SEEING AS WE HAVE BEEN AT LEAST PARTLY SUCCESSFUL, IN THIS COOKERY INITIATIVE, WELL, WE CAN'T REALLY FAIL; SO TAKE THAT MR. REAPER.

FROM THE ARCHIVES BUT FONDLY RECALLED

The Picturesque as Haunted –

A scene penned, painted, poeticized

The sweet scented air reminds me of the naturally enticing aroma of Nottingham’s Sherwood Forest. The low mist tumbling over the mounds of matted grasses, might well be the stage-curtain’s opening to reveal the stark, historic English moor. The voyeur even might expect momentarily, to watch either Robin Hood and his Merry Men cajoling by Major Oak (the tree they could hide inside), or see Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, seeking out clues about the Hound of the Baskervilles down in this bog of ours.

This urban green belt tangle is mysterious as always. Even though I’m close enough to the old homestead to yell to my sons or wife, the enclosure, only steps inside, is as if the traveler was miles beyond the bustle of civilization. It is as much like a child reading a story-book. The adventure in story-land begins in earnest, once the choice of titles is selected from the bookshelf. The moment I make my intention known, to all who care that I shall be walking the great beast, Bosko, over to the Bog, my imaginative process commences to concoct and churn, in sincere hopefulness something unusual will be encountered on this latest foray.

Maybe we will cross in front of a deer or two, a wild turkey, a fox or folly of grey squirrels wrestling noisily in the dead leaves. It takes only a few strides down this beaten path to glorify the unanticipated. As Bosko intently studies every scent and wind-inspired knock or creak, I am at the mercy of an unbridled fascination, where indeed it can be said the writer expects it just as likely as a deer or bear, to cross paths with a specter, troll, gnome, fairy, witch or hobgoblin….take your pick. It’s just the way I view life. Escaping into this storied woods, provides a wonderful hiatus from the electronic world I have been unceremoniously dumped by profession. I’m not at all sure I could even muster the energy to type a full page now on a manual typewriter. I don’t remember even once, feeling I needed to escape the keyboard of the old Smith-Corona. If it did cross my mind that the typewriter had a smothering, confining effect over a day’s work, it was certainly not as much then as now.

The spring rain has generated much activity in our neighborhood, particularly noticeable down in the bog where the brown, dry stands of field grasses are slowly being replaced by vivid green plants at their base. It is hard not to feel that same potential in heart half expecting that old bones will strengthen and ambition flow eternal just standing amidst this inspiring, strong, earthly re-generation. I suppose it would be nice if this strong seasonal force could re-shape humanity, as it is now transforming the winter landscape. It is changing daily as the sunscape through the still bare tree-tops warms away the last ground frost, which the oldtimers here claim was down a fair piece in the aromatic bog muck.

I used to reference David Grayson’s writings frequently, from his book, “Adventures in Contentment.” He writes about his stint in farming, having turned his back on city-life in order to preserve his health. He was tilling the field one day when he happened to look up to witness a most impressive sprawling topography beneath a gentle, universal sky, and it seemed to him momentarily, as a strange, unfamiliar scene; one that he knew had been there before, since creation, but in his days at the farm it had never seemed so important to study. The hillside view of the valley below was as if the world had immediately opened to him. When he looked back at his impressively straight furrows created that day, and then contrasted them with what had been provided naturally, he felt foolish about having ignored the bigger picture of life and times. He had been so concerned about making the furrows straight and appearing expertly contoured to the land that he had ignored all the magnificent world and life forces thriving around him. His preoccupation with the task had blocked out all else, the loss being a deprived existence. This bothered him moreso, because it was nature, this sprawling, inspiring landscape and its unlimited possibility, that brought him to the farm in the first place. It was as much an escape as a quest for salvation from city life.

There are times, even as a longstanding student of “Adventures in Contentment,” I find myself immersed in modern day commerce up to my eyeballs, such that I am just as ignorant and blind to the world around me as Grayson complained. It takes a great resolve to stop and admire the view in the course of modern day commerce….modern day hustle. We risk our health and sanity at this mill wheel because we find it impossible to invoke, impose, command change upon our condition. I have had to stop myself many times this past year, to break from the obsession of business at all cost. With exception of these daily walks over to the bog, and down this peaceful country lane, the computer commerce glowing in my office, beckoning me to invest just a few more hours, has been a powerful force to reckon with, and occasionally forcefully escape. It is a terrible reality, one that should never have happened to someone who claims dutifully to being of “the enlightened.” Yet it has happened to millions of folks who have given up entirely on the possibility there is something more in life other than technology….. and straight, perfectly spaced furrows.

When I used to look up from my typewriter keyboard, I might have been privileged to see the lilacs blossoming in the front yard, and the storm clouds blackening along the horizon. I might have looked out in time to see a hummingbird at the feeder, or a squirrel sitting up on the fence post having an afternoon respite. When I look up now I see this wavering white on grey screen, and beyond that is a dark opening of cabinet with an askew wall of books behind. Where the window should be in a visionary’s office! To look out the window at the world around me, I must get up and strain my neck to sneak a little peak out at the front yard, and the bog across the lane. And the humming. My old typewriter made a lot of sounds but all acceptable in the pursuit of story-line. This infernal racket of buzz and internal function, makes me crazy after only a few minutes. I can feel the radiation penetrating my soul. At the old Smith-Corona, the worse symptom was a stiff neck and some ribbon ink on my fingertips from undoing a key jam.

I have to be particularly disciplined at this computer terminal, to step away every half hour or so just to connect with what is real and breathing in this environment around me. Even if I was to stop right now, in the middle of this sentence, and head out the front door and down into the bog, it would take about fifteen minutes to adjust to the new normal. Adjust to the fact there is no sustained humming and neatly boxed, tailored viewpoint ahead. I resisted a computer for many years and only agreed to purchase one as a facilitator of more efficient office operation. It is true that work in both writing and antique professions has become easier in many ways because of computer technology; yet with improvement and efficiency has come isolation and numbness of spirituality. I have been known to sit at this fool contraption for upwards of four hours. When I proof-read what has been composed, it’s quite usual for the work to be flat, sloppily written, and rather lifeless even when read aloud. I put more work into corrections and re-structuring columns and editorials than was ever necessary from the greasy rollers of a manual typewriter.

Even though I have the advice of David Grayson imprinted on my soul, because it is truly what I believe important in life, I fall victim regularly to the modern trappings of the so-called “better-easier-most efficient way” of living and making money. The only salvation is having the determination to pull up from this post, this whiter than white monitor screen (despite enough furrows to make up a day’s work), and wander off into the woods for a brief sojourn from the world as it has been manufactured. I never leave this sanctuary without feeling restored and invigorated. If there is any misery at all in my life, it is the reality of this unhealthy, uninspiring attachment to the modernists’ convention and new century accepted practice of blatant disregard….for anything that doesn’t smack of new technology..

I need these sojourns, as Grayson needed his vista of heaven on earth. I want to kick this habit one day soon, and spend more time haunting these woods, than hovering over a space-age keyboard in half-spirit dreaming of a better way!