PART 3: THE DIARY OF JOHNNY MOON, BARNARDO BOY, ENGLAND TO MUSKOKA
ESCAPING CANADA TEMPORARILY; RETURNS TO BRACEBRIDGE ONCE AGAIN BY STEAMSHIP, HORSE-DRAWN CART, AND ON FOOT
NOTE: IF YOU MISSED PARTS ONE AND TWO, PLEASE ARCHIVE-BACK TWO BLOGS, TO CATCH-UP ON THIS IMPORTANT BRACEBRIDGE BIOGRAPHY, FROM THE EARLY PART OF THE 1900'S. IT IS AN ENTHRALLING RELIC OF CANADIAN FOLK HISTORY, WITH A HISTORIC CONNECTION TO THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE.
IT MUST HAVE BEEN A WELCOME SOLITUDE, FOR JOHNNY MOON, THINKING BACK TO THE MORE TUMULTUOUS PERIODS OF HIS EARLY DAYS, TO THEN LIVE ON HIS LITTLE BUSH PROPERTY, ON BRACEBRIDGE'S RIVER ROAD, BETWEEN THE NARROWS AND RAPIDS OF BASS ROCK, ON THE SOUTH, AND WILSON'S FALLS, ON THE NORTH. HE WOULD HAVE HAD THE COMPANY OF A GREAT MANY CREATURES OF THE WOODLANDS, IN HIS VICINITY, ESPECIALLY GARTER SNAKES, THAT THRIVE IN THAT AREA EVEN TO THIS DAY, A CENTURY LATER IN HISTORY.
FROM HIS SMALL WOODEN SHANTY, THAT THE WIND PENETRATED EASILY, DURNG THE COLDER TIMES OF THE YEAR, HE WOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO HEAR THE CATARACT OF WILSON'S FALLS, WHICH IN THE SPRING, WOULD HAVE BEEN THUNDEROUS, WITH THE ADDED RUN-OFF, OF THE SNOW-MELT. OVER HIS YEAR'S OF RESIDENCY, IN THIS RURAL PART OF THE TOWN, A SHORT DISTANCE TO THE URBAN SETTLEMENT, HE WOULD HAVE SEEN NUMEROUS YEARS OF LARGE SCALE FLOODING, FORCING HIM TO THE HIGH GROUND TO THE WEST, WHERE THE TRAIN TRACKS STRETCH NORTH AND SOUTH. HE HAD A SMALL LEAKY ROW BOAT, THAT HE USED TO TRANSPORT HIS SUPPLIES, BUT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN IMPOSSIBLE, AT CERTAIN TIMES OF THE YEAR, TRAVERSE THE RIVER, WHEN THE RAPIDS WERE MOST AGGRESSIVE, WITH WATER FLOW, MAKING PASSAGE DANGEROUS. WHEN THE FLOW WAS REDUCED, ALONG THE MUSKOKA WATERSHED, SUCH AS DURING THE DRY SUMMER MONTHS, HE WOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO NAVIGATE SAFELY, UP AND DOWN THIS FIFTY YARD STRETCH OF RAPIDS.
FROM HIS HUMBLE PORTAL ONTO THE HINTERLAND, A MODERN ERA THOREAU AT HIS OWN WALDEN POND, JOHNNY MOON WOULD HAVE HAD THE WELCOME INTRUSIONS OF TRAIN HORNS, AND THE SOUND OF THE STEAM LOCOMOTIVE CHUGGING UP AND DOWN THE RIBBON RAILS, ITS BELL AND STEAM WHISTLE CUTTING THE BITTER WINTER NIGHTS. HE WOULD HAVE HEARD THE RINGING OF THE BELL OF THE FEDERAL BUILDING CLOCK TOWER, ON THE CORNER OF MANITOBA AND THOMAS STREETS, BUT MOSTLY, HE WOULD HAVE GROWN ACCUSTOMED TO THE NATURAL SOUNDS OF BIRDS, SQUIRRELS, THE WATER TRICKLING OF THE NORTH BRANCH, AND THE WIND SINGING THROUGH THE TALL SHORELINE PINES. AN INDEPENDENT FELLOW, HE WAS CONTENT AS MUCH AS COULD BE EXPECTED. HE HAD HIS FRIENDS AND ASSOCIATIONS IN BRACEBRIDGE, USUALLY WITH THOSE BOYS YOUNGER THAN HIMSELF, AND HIS WORK RELATIONSHIP WAS ALWAYS AN ISSUE OF HAPPENSTANCE. HAVING BEEN SENT, INITIALLY TO MUSKOKA, AS AN ORPHAN FROM DR. BARNARDO'S HOMES IN ENGLAND, AFTER THE DEATH OF BOTH HIS PARENTS, THE INTRODUCTION TO THE REGION DID NOT GO WELL; ALTHOUGH ARGUABLY, IT HAD A PROGRESSIVE IMPACT ON HIS PYSCHE. JOHNNY MOON WOULD RETURN TO ENGLAND, UNHAPPY WITH THE COLONY, AND THE FORCED LABOUR AT A FARM NEAR BRACEBRIDGE. HE THOUGHT IT WAS MORE THAN A FIFTEEN YEAR OLD BOY SHOULD HAVE TO ENDURE. WHEN HE GOT THE OPPORTUNITY TO CROSS THE OCEAN AGAIN, AS WAS DETAILED IN YESTERDAY'S BLOG, HE HAD NO INTENTIONS OF RETURNING UNDER THE SAME CIRCUMSTANCES. WHO, READING THE STORY, COULD HAVE BLAMED HIM.
NOTE: THE ORIGINAL HANDWRITTEN JOURNAL, PENNED BY THE GOOD MR. MOON, WAS FOUND WHEN THE SITE OF HIS SHANTY WAS BEING CLEARED AWAY, MANY YEARS AGO NOW, AND TURNED OVER TO THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE, FOR SAFE KEEPING IN THEIR ARCHIVES COLLECTION. THANK GOODNESS FOR THIS ACT OF CONSERVATION, WHICH HAS PRESERVED ONE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT RELICS OF FOLK HISTORY, IN THE ENTIRE DISTRICT OF MUSKOKA. IT COULD HAVE JUST AS EASILY BEEN TOSSED OUT WITH THE OTHER DEBRIS, TAKEN FROM THE SITE, SO MUCH CREDIT HAS TO BE EXTENDED TO THOSE THOUGHTFUL GENTLEMEN, WHO THOUGHT IT SIGNIFICANT ENOUGH, TO BE PRESERVED FOR THE BENEFIT OF FUTURE GENERATIONS. AS THE MANUSCRIPT BELONGS TO THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE, I WILL USE A MINIMUM OF DIRECT QUOTATIONS.
FINALLY BACK IN ENGLAND
Sharing the voyage back to his native England, in company with two thousand sheep, three hundred head of cattle and thirty horses, which he had to feed and water, as part of his job, Johnny Moon was happy to be back in the country of his origin; where the rest of his family was still situated. Although they had also be the ones who had given him up to Dr. Barnardo, because they claimed they didn't have the resources to look after him. He wasn't at all sure how he was going to get by in England, but he believed it would be infinitely more humane, than having to work on a backwoods Canadian farmstead, with uncaring landowners.
It was in the summer of 1899. He had earned just five shillings for thirteen days work onboard the cattle ship. The trans-oceanic passage, food, and lodging aboard the ship had been factored in, for a gent in this temporary position. It was not the amount of money he had hoped for, and he knew it wouldn't last him long, having to spend on food and lodging in the city. He was in the company of the minister's son, he had met earlier on the train to Montreal, and they jointly travelled by rail to East Ham, where he thought he could locate family members. At the East Ham railroad station, the minister's son was transferring, so he said a tearful farewell, and the young man then, carried-on his trip to Leytonstone. Johnny walked from the station to Manor Park, where he knew he could find his step brother, Fred; the chap who had put him in the care of Dr. Barnardo, in the first place. Had Fred's opinion changed in two years?
Fred Moon decided to keep his younger brother for a short while, to see in he could find a job to support himself. He was, with some good fortune, hired-on as a van boy, at Pickford and Company, and agents for the L.N.W. Railway Company. He seemed to be thriving, from his past days, as a forced labourer on a Canadian family farm. It was as if he had never left. He felt comfortably at home. He did try to re-connect with a mate from his childhood, Harold Cook, of Bristol Road, East Ham, but for some unknown reason, circumstances prevented a return to their old friendship. He writes in his journal that it was when "circumstances over which I had no control, entered into the matter." Johnny does suggest however, that he will eventually see him again, and their friendship will be restored. Obviously it was an intervention by family of Harold Cook, who got in the way of their friendship.There is no detailed explanation offered.
There is however, the strange inclusion of the information, "I was circumcised in the London Hospital, in the early part of 1900," which seems a rather out-of-place inclusion. It may have had some relationship to a more significant health related problem for the young Mr. Moon.
He adds to his journal, a reference to the commencement of the Boer War.
Johnny went to work at Pickfords, Aldgate, for a few months, until the early days of the summer of 1900. It was the same period he left his step-brother Fred's place of lodging, and went to live with Bass and Ted Lee, at their abode in Canning Town, and began working at the Thames Ironworks, where Mr. Lee was also employed as a labourer. "At this place they built battLEships, bridges, etc. The first job, I was a 'point's man' with a travelling crane. After that, I was a caulker, and then plater's labourer. I was at the Thames Ironworks until the beginning of winter, in the late part of 1900, then I was laid off," writes Johnny Moon, in his modest diary / biography. "Then I answered an advertisement for an under-cowman's job, on the Honourable Cecil Howard's estate, near Great Missenden, Buckinghamshire, and got the position. Sometime in December 1900, I left Canning Town, and rode by tram and bus to Baker Street Station, in the west end of London. This was a district railway terminus. After a short wait I got aboard a train, and after a ride of about thirty to thirty-five miles, arrived at the village of Great Missenden. Got off there, and walked about a mile out to 'Dutchland's', which was the name of the Howard Estate. I lived with Mr. Farr and family, in one of the cottages or lodges, on the estate. The coachman lived in the other cottage. Mr. Farr was the cowman; I was his helper."
The Howard farm maintained a herd of twenty or more goats, on the farm, and other cattle were left to graze on another parcel of farm property down the road, according to Johnny Moon. It was operated as a dairy farm.
Mr. Farr, the cowman, had six children, representing four boys and two girls.
"Queen Victoria died in January, 1901, and we heard, far off, the guns booming at Windsor (Castle)," out of respect for the long serving monarchy, writes the young Mr. Moon.
As was becoming his tradition, but without any explanation, Johnny was fired from his job at Dutchland's Farm, in March 1901, and all that was noted in his journal, was that "trouble arose and I was discharged." After his dismissal, and the trip back to his step-brother's residence, in East Ham, he did some gardening work for a period of time, and then laboured mixing mortar, with Fred, for Albert and Bob James. When that job ceased, Johnny took a part-time handyman job, for an elderly couple, who lived in Cray's Hill, in Essex, about thirty miles from London. As usual, he got into some problems with the property owners, and left the job to look elsewhere.
"So I got up very early one morning and left the place, walking back to Chadwell Heath. Shortly after, went to the offices of Elder Dempster Steamship Company, Aldgate, London, and got a chance for a passage to Montreal. They gave me a note to hand to Captain Jones, of 'The Mantauk,' lying in Millwall Docks."
For whatever reason, whether it had been the result of a brain injury, after a schoolyard mishap, earlier in his youth, or the Barnardo experience on a Muskoka farmstead, that caused him to suffer unspecified emotional problems, Johnny Moon would have a problem with long term employment often in his life, and had a serious issue with authority; and those who he felt were being unkind to him while in their employ. It could also have been the fact, he was not particularly well suited to physically challenging tasks, and he was known to dawdle and wander, when he was supposed to be working. He did appreciate the allure of the road, and ocean travel, as it represented independence to him, that he seemed to crave the older he got.
On June 18th, 1901, Johnny Moon, as part of the crew aboard The Montauk, embarked on his latest trans-oceanic adventure, headed back to Canada. The boat steamed down the Thames, passed through Dover Strait, and down the (English) Channel. "Had last view of south coast of England next morning, and then on to the Atlantic. I was seasick for a day or so, and then got my 'sea-legs,' as they call it. My work on the trip across was light; helping the cook, peeling potatoes. We were bound 'light' for Nova Scotia; the captain having received orders to proceed to Sydney, Cape Breton, there to 'pick up' a cargo (most likely of coal), for New Orleans," wrote the young crewman. "Ran into fog near Newfoundland, and went half speed for some time. The vessel running light and encountering heavy seas, during the latter part of the voyage, her propellor often was lifted clear of the water, and raced with the accompanying clatter of the engines. As our sleeping quarters were close by the engine room, the aforementioned commotion was rather disturbing. A school of porpoises followed our ship all of one day, diving from and through wave to wave. This was an amusing and interesting sight."
Johnny Moon writes, that they narrowly missed a large iceberg, which had been made invisible by the prevailing fog that had just set in. The onboard warning siren was blaring at this point. It was to alert the crew to the situation and as a warning to other vessels in the vicinity. It was also the case that the echoes of the siren blasts, let the captain know how close the looming iceberg was to the ship. The prevailing fog cleared away just before the steamship reached Newfoundland, affording the crew a good view of the coastline of the great rocky island. Following a thirteen day voyage, The Montauk arrived in Sydney Harbor, Glace Bay, Nova Scotia, on Dominion Day, July 1st, 1901.
The ship didn't actually land on this day, but rather, on the 2nd of July. For whatever reason, a crew of cattleman were picked up at this port, for the continuation of the voyage to Montreal. There was no room for the cook's assistant, so he had to find another way to get to Montreal, which would mean a trip of nearly 800 miles. He thought about walking, but had to admit it would probably injure him in the process. Dumped in Nova Scotia, he managed to travel to the small community of North Sydney, situated three miles from Glace Bay. He had no money for lodging, so he decided to go to the local police station, where the constables on duty, kindly gave him a cot to sleep on, and a breakfast meal in the morning. He had remembered that some of the constables, from the evening before, were singing the song, "The Maple Leaf Forever," outside the station, when he arrived looking for temporary shelter. He had always liked that music, from the first time he had heard it, while in Toronto, at the Barnardo facility, some four years earlier.
Sensing that his best luck for passage to Montreal, aboard a steamship, was to head back to port, and walk along the docks, looking for an opportunity to work aboard any of the ships, needing hired hands. He spent a lot of time looking, and asking for available positions, but was turned down by every captain. He didn't look hale and hardy as they might have preferred instead. It was then that he spotted the tramp steamer, "Escalona," which had accepted some of the other displaced crew from the Montauk, for passage to eventual port at Montreal. There was no position for Johnny Moon, except as a stow-away. A crewman aboard, motioned the young man aboard, and quickly escorted him to the 'forecastle' (seaman's quarters), and after lifting up the hatch, motioned for him to duck beneath, before anybody witnessed him. He was told to go into the hollow and be quiet, until the same man would come for him, when port had been reached. As the stow-away discovered, the compartment was black, and all he could depend on, was his sensory perception, to tell him where the rats were scurrying around his seat, on the top step, beneath the hatch, of the precariously narrow staircase. While in the compartment, he would occasionally hear the crash and deafening thud, of coal tumbling down the chute, into the black hold. The boat was taking a load of coal to Montreal, and Johnny Moon was right on top of it! Literally. The air quality was horrid. His face was blackened by the rise of soot after the dumping of the coal.
The Escalona left port in Nova Scotia, and the stow-away awoke, as the ship was now rocking wildly with the waves, on the open water. The crew member came shortly after, and lifted the hatch cover, to allow the young man to breathe fresh air, and climb out for the night. He was told that he could stay at the bow area of the steamer, as if he was found near the seamen's quarters, it would "make trouble for them," presumably the crewman and Johnny Moon. It was in the dark of night, that he huddled at the front of the boat. It was a rough night on the open water, and many waves rolled over the deck, soaking Johnny Moon to the bone. To warm himself, the stow-away found shelter, by the side of what appeared to him, as a water storage tank, affording him very modest shelter and protection from the rushing water. When the water rushed back and forth across the deck, there was always a danger of being swept off, and thrust into the water, which would have meant almost certain death. He had to keep his wits about him, and anchor against the water tank, as protection from the flooding, powerful waves. Cold and wet in the night air, he finally succumbed to his exhaustion. He fell asleep, vulnerable to these powerful waves crashing over the bow. Unfortunately, he was discovered, along with another stow-away, and taken by crew to the captain. He threatened to turn them out, at a stop before Montreal, but he either forgot his promise, or decided to show mercy to the penniless travellers. The other stow-away was much older than Johnny Moon.
The smallest ship in the Thompson Line, her heavy load of coal, placed the Escalona low in the water, of the rough St. Lawrence, and as her deck was close to the water, there was a wash of water constantly flooding over the sides, in the heavy seas experienced in passage from Cape Breton to the St. Lawrence. The roll of the small steam vessel, was enough to cause a relapse of Johnny Moon's seasickness, although it didn't last for long. He remained wet for most of the voyage. To pay for his passage, the captain set about chores onboard, including swabbing the deck, and cleaning the brass-work. It took four and a half days to reach port at Montreal.
"From the quay, I went to an emigration office, on Craig Street. This was an employment agency. I was hired for a month by a farmer named Dugald McEwen, who lived in a little settlement called Allens Corners, near Howick, on the south side of the St. Lawrence. This place is about forty miles from Montreal."
Johnny Moon writes in his journal, "I stayed a month at this place. The work was hard and the hours were long. It was July, the haying season. We got up at a quarter to four in the morning, did a few chores, had a rush breakfast, lasting ten or fifteen minutes, worked in the fields from then until twelve, and got a hurried dinner, lasting no longer than fifteen minutes. Then work in the fields again till six, get supper over at lightning speed, time, ten minutes, then work on till nine PM. We might have worked all night if it had been the land of the midnight sun. There was a boy from a Canadian Home (orphanage) staying there. I have forgotten his name."
Johnny would quit the McEwan farm at the end of that month, and collect the five dollars in wages, that had been promised. Then he began to walk, and walk and walk till he could travel no further. He initially walked twelve miles from the Montreal area farmstead, to the community of Valleyfield Station, where he arrived in the late afternoon. The frequent traveller was planning to catch the train west, to Coteau, on the Ontario side of the river, but it wasn't scheduled to arrive until the evening. Johnny was invited by a station employee, to join him and his family for dinner, at his home, which he did, and enjoyed. He returned with the station official, later that night, to catch the train. He only had enough money in his pocket, to secure train passage as far as Kingston, which he estimated was a hundred and sixty miles shy of Toronto; which was his ultimate destination at this point. And upon arriving at the Kingston station, there was a heavy thunderstorm passing the region, and it was pouring outside. As was his safeguard, against sleeping out in the open, or in a doorway, he found a police station once again, where he was able to secure a lobby situation, in which to rest, uncomfortably so, sitting upright in a chair for the entire night. He didn't sleep much through the night, and was admittedly weak for the next day's lengthy travel west, toward Toronto.
The next morning, he set off wearily down the road, headed back to Toronto, where he had once resided in a facility operated by Dr. Barnardo. He was fortunate to be offered rides along the way in a horse-drawn rig, to the community of Napanee. He began walking once more, following his ride that far, to within a short distance of Belleville, where he got another ride, which took him into the town. But he was to experience some of the harsh realities of being a traveller without means.
"In Belleville I got tricked by some young fellows into calling upon a suspicious pair of men, living upon the outskirts of that town," wrote Johnny Moon, in his diary. "I was roughly refused, so I went a little further along, and being completely tired out, laid down by the side of the road, and went to sleep. (He was aware, by this point, that he could have been devoured by wolves or a bear, but had simply run out of steam himself, and fallen to the ground exhausted.) When I awoke, the sun was high up. A boy was standing close, looking at me. When I got to my feet and started to walk on again, he tossed a five cent piece at me. Thanking him for it, I picked it up and went on. A little farther on, I came to a farmhouse by the right hand side of the road. The woman of the house gave me a good breakfast, then I went on again."
After miles more on his remaining shoe leathers, he arrived in Trenton near mid-day. He was once again given dinner at a "working man's" house, and reached as far as Cobourg on the second night. When he finally arrived on the outskirts of Toronto, it had taken him a total of four and a half days, of hard walking. It would be a physical capability, that would serve him well in the years to come, once he arrived in the District of Muskoka.
Please visit this blog again tomorrow, for Part Four of the "Diary of Johnny Moon". Thanks so much for joining me today, for this amazing story of endurance and determination, to live an independent life in Bracebridge, Ontario, soon to become his long-term home town. An intense, thoughtful and articulate young man, he had a lot of history to imprint yet, in the District of Muskoka.
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