HUGH MACMILLAN FOUND HISTORY IN THE STRANGEST AND UNIQUE PLACES - IT KEPT HIM FOREVER QUESTING ON THE PAPER TRAIL
"ADVENTURES OF A PAPER SLEUTH," 2004, PENUMBRA PRESS - A GREAT BOOK OF ADVICE FOR PROFESSIONAL OR HOBBY HISTORIANS
HUGH MACMILLAN, AND FOR THAT MATTER, DAVE BROWN, WOULD HAVE HAD QUITE A LAUGH THIS MORNING, IF HE HAD SEEN SUZANNE AND I, STRUGGLING WITH TORN, LONG-PAST-THEIR-PRIME, CLOTH SHOPPING BAGS, FROM THE GROCERY STORE, LOADED TO OVER-FLOWING WITH BOOKS. WHEN, IN REALITY, WE COULD HAVE USED A SMALL FORK-LIFT. OR A WEIGHT-LIFTER FRIEND, WHO OWED US A FAVOR. WE HAVE NO SUCH FRIEND.
WE ALWAYS COME TO THESE BOOKS SALES, ILL PREPARED, (I DON'T KNOW WHY) AND IT HAS BECOME A STANDARD, FOR US TO HAVE TO BUM CARTONS, AND VARIOUS OTHER BAGS AND CONTAINERS, FROM SALE HOSTS, OR FROM THOSE WHO HAVE EXTRA, TO CARRY THE BOOKS WE BUY AT ESTATE AND FUNDRAISING SALES. WE TAKE BAGS BUT NEVER ENOUGH. HAVING BEEN IN THE OLD BOOK BUSINESS, FOR A LOT OF YEARS NOW, WE SHOULD BE SMARTER THAN THIS; BUT AS WE NEAR OUR GOLDEN AGE OF BOOK SELLING, WE DON'T SEEM TO HAVE LEARNED OUR LESSONS.
ANOTHER MAN, AT THE GRAVENHURST PUBLIC LIBRARY BOOK SALE, SATURDAY MORNING, STOOD IN FRONT OF ME, GETTING READY TO PAY FOR HIS OWN OVER-FLOWING BAGS, WHEN, LIKE AN OLD DAM AFTER TEN HEAVY RAINS, THE SUPER-STRUCTURE OF THE BAG LET GO, AND THERE WERE LOTS OF LOOSE BOOKS ON HIS SHOES. ENOUGH TO MAKE EVEN GOOD CHRISTIAN FELLOW CAST USE THE LORD'S NAME IN VAIN. GOSH, I HATE MYSELF FOR THIS, BUT I SUDDENLY STARTED TO LAUGH AT HIS MISFORTUNE. I CONCEALED IT PRETTY WELL, I THINK, BUT I KNOW AT THAT MOMENT, I WAS THINKING ABOUT MY OWN CLOTH BAG, AND HOW SMART I WAS TO HAVE MORE CAREFULLY BALANCED THE BOOKS WITHIN. I HADN'T EVEN GOT PAST THAT THOUGHT, THAN THE CLOTH OF MY OWN GROCERY STORE BAG RIPPED, AND THERE WERE NOW BOOKS ALL OVER MY SHOES. THIS TIME, IT WAS SUZANNE LAUGHING AT THE TWO MEN IN THE ROOM, WHO HAD OVER-STUFFED THEIR GROCERY STORE BAGS WITH HEAVY BOOKS. "DON'T YOU FEEL LIKE SUCH A TOOL," SUZANNE ASKED, AS SHE HELPED GATHER UP OUR PURCHASES OFF THE FLOOR. I FELT FORTUNATE THAT SUZANNE WAS THERE TO HELP ME RECOVER FROM BOOK HUNTING MISADVENTURE. I'VE GOT A WONKY HIP YOU SEE. I CAN'T EVEN TIE MY LEFT SHOE, SO MY PARTNER HELPS IN THIS AREA, TO KEEP ME IN THE BALL GAME SO TO SPEAK. THE OTHER GUY HAD TO PICK UP HIS OWN STREWN BOOKS. YUP, HUGH AND DAVE, MY OLD BOOK AND PAPER CHUMS, WOULD HAVE MADE FUN OF ME FOR CERTAIN, AS I MAY HAVE, AT ONE POINT OR MORE, LAUGHED AT ONE OF THEIR MISADVENTURES.
IT WAS A SIGNIFICANT BOOK SALE, TO RAISE FUNDS FOR GRAVENHURST PUBLIC LIBRARY, AND AMONGST OTHER CANADIAN HISTORIES, AND BOOKS ON ANTIQUES, I PICKED UP A GEM WRITTEN BY OIL LAMP EXPERT, CATHERINE THURO, ON CANADIAN PRIMITIVES, WHICH BY THE WAY, HAS EVADED ME FOR DECADES. I HAVE CATHERINE'S CRITICALLY IMPORTANT BOOKS ON CANADIAN MADE OIL LAMPS, ETC. BECAUSE THIS IS WHAT I COLLECT, BUT NOW I CAN ADD THIS ONE TO MY ARCHIVES AS WELL. AN ANTIQUE DEALER HAS TO HAVE A FEW REFERENCE BOOKS TO PAW OVER, ON THOSE BITTER WINTER NIGHTS, HUDDLED BY THE HEARTH. IT WAS FUN TO BE OUT ON THE BOOK HUNT ONCE MORE, AND IT'S SOMETHING I'VE BEEN STEPPING-UP OVER THE PAST THREE MONTHS, AFTER ABOUT FIVE YEARS OUT OF THE LOOP, AS FAR AS ACQUIRING BOOK-LOTS. I SLOWED DOWN FOR A NUMBER OF YEARS, TURNING INSTEAD TO ART. BUT WITHOUT A BOOK SHOP IN GRAVENHURST, ANY LONGER, THE SMALL COLLECTION OF VINTAGE BOOKS WE'VE HAD IN OUR BACK ROOM, HAVE BEEN FLYING OFF THE SHELVES, AND IT HAS MADE SENSE TO ADD MORE SHELVES, AND MANY MORE TEXTS, TO SATISFY DEMAND. WE LOVE BOOKS. SUZANNE IS A RETIRED SCHOOL LIBRARIAN, AND I'M A CAREER BIBLIOPHILE. I'VE KICKED THE BIBLIOMANIA ASPECT, SOMETHING DAVE BROWN COULDN'T. HUGH WAS FAR MORE CONSERVATIVE AND SENSIBLE, WITH HIS ACQUISITIONS, AND HIS CORRESPONDING INTEREST, IN FINDING BUYERS. DAVE WOULD TRADE, BUT HE HATED TO SELL OFF HIS BOOKS. IN FACT, HE COULD EVEN GET INSULTED IF SOMEONE ASKED IF THEY COULD BUY ONE. SUCH WAS THE CASE WHEN A CLOSE FRIEND WANTED TO BUY THE BOOK, "ANDERSONVILLE," THE STORY OF A CONFEDERATE PRISONER OF WAR CAMP, DURING THE AMERICAN CIVIL WAR. DAVE PHONED ME, ONE AFTERNOON, SHORTLY BEFORE HE WAS HOSPITALIZED, WITH AN ILLNESS THAT EVENTUALLY KILLED HIM, AND ASKED IF I COULD PLEASE FIND A COPY FOR THIS CHAP, BECAUSE HE DIDN'T WANT TO SELL HIM THE ONE HE OWNED. AT THIS POINT, DAVE KNEW HIS ILLNESS WOULD HAVE A FATAL CONSEQUENCE. DAVE OWNED MORE THAN ONE COPY. HE JUST HATED TO SELL THEM. LOVED BUYING. ENJOYED BARTERING AND TRADING. BUT HIS GAME WAS NEVER ABOUT THE MONEY, OR THE VALUE OF A BOOK. HE WAS INTERESTED IN CONTENT. I WAS ABLE TO GET A COPY FOR OUR MUTUAL FRIEND FROM MY OWN COLLECTION.
THE LAST TIME HUGH MACMILLAN CAME TO STAY WITH SUZANNE AND I, HERE AT BIRCH HOLLOW, QUITE A FEW YEARS BACK, WE HAD AN INCREDIBLE AFTERNOON, AND LATER DINNER, WITH RICK NASH OF DORSET, ONE OF NORTH AMERICA'S EXPERT CRAFTSMAN, IN THE HISTORIC RESTORATION OF BIRCH BARK CANOES. I SAT SPELLBOUND, FOR ABOUT THREE HOURS THAT AFTERNOON, LISTENING TO THESE TWO WELL VERSED HISTORIANS IN THEIR RESPECTIVE AREAS OF EXPERTISE, DISCUSSING CANOE-CRAFT, AND THEIR HERITAGE FROM THE ORIGINS OF THE PEOPLES OF THE FIRST NATIONS; WISHING I HAD BROUGHT ALONG A TAPE RECORDER. SON ANDREW WAS WITH ME, AND BEING A CANOE ENTHUSIAST AS WELL, BOTH OF US JUST SAT WITH MOUTHS GAPING, EYES WIDE OPEN, LISTENING AS HISTORY WAS BEING, NOT ONLY REPLAYED, BUT MADE, FOR US VOYEURS. I DON'T THINK I HAVE EVER, IN MY LIFE, FELT MORE HONORED, TO BE A PART OF SUCH A SOCIAL ENGAGEMENT, THAT WAS STEEPED WITH CANADIAN HISTORY. BOTH GENTS, HAD A LENGTHY RELATIONSHIP WITH CANOE MUSEUM FOUNDER, KIRK WIPPER, SO THE WHOLE HERITAGE-CANOE SCENE, WITH CONTEMPORARY OVERVIEWS, WAS LAID OUT BY TWO FELLOWS WHO UNDERSTOOD THE LEGACY, OF THE BIRCH BARK CANOE, FROM THE BEGINNING. I MEAN THAT! I CAME AWAY FROM THAT MEETING, TRYING TO REMEMBER EVERYTHING THAT HAD BEEN TALKED ABOUT, BUT LIKE STANDING, CUP IN HAD, AT THE BASE OF A FOUNTAIN, ONE CAN ONLY SCOOP UP SO MUCH. I WAS JUST SO GLAD THEY INVITED ANDREW AND I TO JOIN WITH THEM, ON THAT AUTUMN AFTERNOON, NEAR DORSET, ONTARIO. WE ALSO TALKED ABOUT OUR MUTUAL FRIEND DAVE BROWN, WHO HAD PASSED AWAY YEARS EARLIER, AND HOW HE USED TO VIST RICK, AND SLEEP OVERNIGHT IN HIS "CANOE SHED." I WANTED TO SLEEP IN HIS CANOE SHED TOO! I WROTE DAVE'S BIOGRAPHY IN PART, BECAUSE HUGH MACMILLAN INSISTED. DAVE HAD HIRED-ME ON TO THE PROJECT, BEFORE HE DIED, BUT IT WAS HUGH WHO PUSHED ME ON, IN THE YEARS FOLLOWING, TO DOCUMENT MR. BROWN'S WELL KNOW ECCENTRICITIES, WHEN IT CAME TO COLLECTING OLD AND RARE BOOKS. I FOLLOWED THROUGH, AND THE BOOK SOLD OUT.
I'LL SHARE SOME MORE STORIES ABOUT MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCES WITH THE LEGENDARY HUGH MACMILLAN, THROUGHOUT THIS WEEK'S TRIBUTE SERIES OF BLOGS! I DO, MOST DEFINITELY, CONSIDER MYSELF FORTUNATE, TO HAVE BEEN CONSIDERED A WORTHY ENOUGH HISTORIAN, TO HAVE BEEN INVITED INTO WHAT I CONSIDERED WAS AN INNER-CIRCLE OF FOLKS, WHO LIVED AND BREATHED CANADIANA; AND WHO KNEW MANY OF THE LEADING HISTORIANS PAST AND PRESENT.
FINDING THE REASON TO LOOK CLOSER - AND DIG HARDER
"As a manuscript sleuth, I received leads to valuable collections for the Ontario Archives. (Hugh was a freelance archivist, associated with the Ontario Archives), by any means, that came to hand. In this profession, the adventure of seeking the material could be as interesting as the finding of it. Tips from friends provided the most frequent leads, followed by those from owners of papers I'd already acquired. Then might come combing of obituary columns, or running my own ads in local and international media. Then there was overhearing, or 'Taking a Cowan.' This is a Masonic term of unknown origin, and has various interpretations. One meaning is the finding of sources for research, from what you overhear in another person's conversations, an information-gathering technique, which has stood me in good stead many times."
Hugh writes, "In one memorable case, what I overheard involved the family of Sergeant John Hay's kin, who helped defend Quebec, against the Americans in 1775. I was in a Spark Street Restaurant, in Ottawa, when I accidentally overheard one of Sergeant John Hay's kin, Dr. Thomas Foran, a noted Catholic historian, from the University of America in Washington, arguing about the disposal of his effects. Dr. Foran was telling his friend, while I sat in the next booth, about a large collection of family papers, his brother Phillip, who practiced law across the river in Hull, had asked him to work on. This work consisted of transcribing and translating hundreds of 19th century letters from French, Gaelic and Latin, to English, a monumental task, for which Dr. Foran, however, was well trained."
Hugh noted that, "This incident occurred in 1960, while I was lunching with my brother Ron, who was enroute to Germany, as a 2nd secretary in the Canadian embassy. I had already gleaned from the overheard conversation that the papers involved Foran's maternal ancestor, Sgt. John Hay, who emigrated from Scotland to Prince Edward Island, joined the 84th Royal Highland Emigrant Regiment, and at the end of the Revolutionary War. We settled in Glengarry County. This was four years before I joined the Ontario Archives, but as I was president of the recently created Glengarry Historical Society, my antennae for finding papers were already at work. Quickly introducing myself, I told them I lived in Glengarry, and would be interested in these papers. Later, after I joined the Archives, this was one of the first of many major collections, for which I made a bid. It was not to be ours for many years, until the task of transcribing was done. It was well worth the wait, because never again was I able to get a collection, upon which so much tender loving care had been lavished. I made many visits to the Seigneury Club at Montebellow, Quebec, where Dr. Foran resided, also to the Foran mansion, in Aylmer, Quebec, where his brother Phillip lived. Mary Hay Foran, mother of Thomas and Phillip Foran, had been trained in art by the Ursuline Sisters in Quebec City. The old Hay home, on Glenmore Road, in Williamstown, contains a permanent record of her artistic ability, but in a very strange place. Mary painted her mother with braided hair, in a low-cut gown, sitting at a table holding a hand of cards. The painting was done in oils on the inside of the back door."
"Mary Hay Foran was part of a network of local historians who researched, wrote, and often met to compare notes, between 1900 and 1945. We owe them a great debt. Mary Hay Foran," writes Hugh MacMillan, "and Farquhar McLennan would gather with Carrie Holmes McGivallivray, author of 'The Shadow of Tradition,' Jack Greenfield McDonnell, author of 'Sketches of Glengarry in Canada,' and Archibald de Lery McDonald. Also in this group was Msgr. Ewan J. McDonald, my mentor, who had to be called in to assure the Forans they were doing the right thing, in turning their papers over to the son of a Presbyterian cleric (Hugh's father). At one point. Dr. Foran was seriously considering giving the collection to his alma mater, St. Francis Xavier, in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. It took the intervention of the Monsignor to squelch that idea."
In a brief overview, Hugh MacMillan suggests, "Even after long year's experience, I was never able to judge beforehand how long it might take to have the written records of a subject's life in my possession. The seemingly simplest collection could run into one snag after another, or have conditions of release imposed, that I could not accept. Again, following my most persuasive efforts, whole reams of important documents could suddenly be made available. In the case of R.R. McLennan, always called 'Big Rory,' it was a mixed bag. I knew where the papers were, and who owned them, but it took close to 18 years to get them. It started in 1964, when Dr. Simon Fraser, of Cornwall, provided numerous well qualified leads. I was to see Randolph McLennan, a brusque Kingston entrepreneur, with a passion for Glengarry history. His uncle Farquhar McLennan (no relations to R.R.), worked for Big Rory on railroad contracts from Florida, to Lake Superior, until the latter's death in 1907. Farquhar called in a carpenter, who made sixteen wooden cases in which to store all Big Rory's papers. They were stacked in the basement of the McLennan Block, in Cornwall, until I got at them in 1964."
"Farquhar managed the McLennan estate until his death in 1948. He was a packrat collector, saving the most trivial scraps of paper, even all his receipts for haircuts. He was also a first class local historian, who, over many years, had saved hundreds of historical documents. These were all meticulously filed, year by year, with his diaries and business papers. Farquhar and Rory would be pleased to know that my persistence resulted in both collections being saved for future historians. I have a most impressive picture, showing the papers stacked four feet high, ready to be loaded into my station wagon. Many stories are told about Farquhar, including the observation that he was so tight he squeaked. He is reputed to have once phoned in an order to his butcher, including a half pound of liver for his cat; a few minutes later calling back to cancel the liver, as his cat had caught a mouse and he wouldn't need it."
"I had first heard of Big Rory (Col. R.R. McClennan) when I was about ten," wrote Hugh MacMillan. "My father was telling me how Big Rory won the light heavy-weight boxing crown, at McGill, when he was studying theology there. 'My records,' Father explained, 'were nothing compared to those of Big Rory, who was the champion hammer thrower, not just in Glengarry but in the world. Why, many of his records are still unbeaten.' Big Rory was born in 1842, son of a veteran of the Rebellion of 1837, and grand-nephew of the famous Finnian 'Buffalo' McDonald, a huge Indian fighter and fur trader, who in 1827, wrestled a wounded buffalo to the ground near the Saskatchewan River. Though fearfully gored and fainting from loss of blood, he survived to fight again. Big Rory himself was aptly nicknamed, being 6 foot, 6 inches, strong, fast and agile on his feet. Rory also had a good head for figures, a fine handwriting style, and a manner that instilled confidence in all who knew him. He planned to join the family trade, construction in all its forms, especially railroad building, the mid-century's biggest and most bustling business."
He pens of this huge and successful athlete, "sadly, after the 1870's (following great success with the hammer throw), Big Rory threw the hammer no more, after a tragic accident in Cornwall, when a little girl dashed out of the crowd, and was killed by his hammer. Ralph Conner worked the incident into one of his novels."
"Col. R.R. McLennan's early railroad work was with Sir Sandford Fleming, on the Intercolonial Railway, from Montreal to Halifax, but he came into his own, both career-wise and financially, during the building of the CPR. Rory's method was to bid on a contract for a certain length of track to be finished by a certain date. He'd then hire experienced workmen from Glengarry, pay them well, with bonuses for their money-saving, or time-saving ideas. Their confidence in him did the rest. On a late-season 1883 CPR contract, north of Lake Superior, Rory was having trouble obtaining supplies, which he solved in his typical fashion by buying the steamer, 'Enterprise'. Disaster struck when the ship sank in Lake Huron during a storm, with the loss of eight men. Within days he had a new ship, the 'Argyle,' which finally delivered his supplies. The north shore of Lake Superior was rugged, with the railway hugging the rocky shoreline. One of Rory's men came up with the idea of drilling the rock, so the ensuing dynamite blast would hurl the shattered rock into the lake, eliminating the need to cart it away. He was rewarded with a Rory-sized bonus."
"When lifelong bachelor Rory, retired from the railway business, after 1885, he had the money and the time to engage in many enterprises. One of these was a private bank, which lasted for nine years, but was never a great success, partly because Rory was so accustomed to acting independently, that as his partner delicately phrased it, 'he often confused the bank's money with his own.' Another venture was a newspaper, the 'Cornwall Standard.' Five years later, he was offering to sell it for $12,000, but found few interested buyers. Other endeavours proved happier. He had bought Glengarry Ranch in Alberta, during railroad days, and now used it to breed racehorses. One, called 'The Wandering Jew,' won fame for itself and his ranch. Made Colonel of the local militia, in 1890, Rory entered politics, was nominated by the Conservatives, to run for Parliament, won election on his second try, and held the post of MP for Glengarry until 1900, his personal contacts making him a popular figure around Parliament Hill. When he died in 1907, R.R. McLennan, left an estate of nearly $400,000, including properties in Ontario, Manitoba and Saskatchewan."
In conclusion to the story, Hugh noted that, in his will, he left "his papers to his nephew Alex. This nephew was a big, taciturn man, who lived in a double home, with one side kept for his guests, and surrounded by fishponds. Acquiring these important manuscripts for the Archives, required so many years of wheedling, coaxing and cajoling Alex, that several times, I despaired of ever succeeding. It was only in 1983, with the inducement of a $22,000 tax credit, that I obtained the 16 huge basswood cases, four tin boxes and other materials that chronicled Big Rory McLennan's astonishingly varied life, and accomplishments on planet earth. Another of my problems stemmed from a mistake made by the trust company, when they delivered the papers to the National Archives, instead of the Ontario Archives. It took me four months to plough through the necessary red tape, to get them back where they belonged."
David G. Anderson, of Williamstown, Glengarry County, wrote of Mr. MacMillan, in 2004, the following standards of what he called "The MacMillan Method For Saving Canadian History." It reads as follows: "The seeking (and finding) of good subjects involves a preparation time: become richly read in history and biography; contrive to sketch out a family tree and walk, write, or telephone your way down to the disparate branches thereof. At all times follow the trail of the family story, and find who got the papers, portraits or artifacts. Never give up. Once on to the scent, take van and show up on doorstep. Engage subjects in purposeful conversation, even through the crack in the door, if the situation calls for it," advised Hugh MacMillan of his apprentices. "Brush aside protestations that 'the attic is a mess,' or that they 'need time to go through the boxes.' Give receipts, tax credits, or in extremes, money, and get the material in its rough state back home to the professional archivists; the sedentary guard, if you will (to use a fine old term from the War of 1812). Before leaving, break bread with the new friend, and continue to be such a natural good companion, that the proffered spare bed of the host is impossible to refuse. Never forget a name of a genealogy. Return when next in the neighborhood and bring forth more and more connectedness to add to the intricate living web of characters, friends, papers and history. Through it all, keep a wife of abiding good sense, (Muriel) and a family of international extent. There are no secret ingredients in the MacMillan Method, but few have mastered it, or served it up, as well as our good friend Hugh P.
I faced-off regularly, with this method of Hugh's acquisition strategy. And he always found food and lodging at our home, when he was on one of his hunt and gather adventures. Our payment, for a roast beef dinner, and cozy quarters to spend the night, was a liberal exchange of information. Suzanne and I both, wanted to know more about his most memorable negotiations, for historic collections. In fact, I had heard most of the stories in the book, long before it was published. As he was a great story teller, who had a trademark, strikingly gruff way of presentation, with a hearty laugh when anecdote required such a release, I felt more than a little privileged, that I got these tales from his lips, as a double bonus, to the book I now consult regulary. We liked his company, and those associate historians, like Ed Phelps, who he hauled along. More coming this week, on the biography of "Hugh P. MacMillan," from his book, "Adventures of a Paper Sleuth," one of my most called-upon reference books, while writing regional histories, here in the District of Muskoka.
Thanks so much for pausing for a few moments, on a busy September day like this, to pay my blog-site a visit. I hope you will find the story of Hugh MacMillan interesting. I think you'll finally discover, just how influential Mr. MacMillan has been, to the sculpting of my own work as an historian, a collector of old books, and especially old paper. We, as Canadians, owe Hugh MacMillan a debt of gratitude, for the history he helped preserve, and steward, for the benefit of historians today. We know more about the citizens of our country, and the history they influenced, by the very fact, this freelance archivist would "never say never!"
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