The mysteries of Michigan's Cemetery Island

 

ISLE ROYALE, MI - More than a few kayakers who've skirted the shoreline of Isle Royale have had this experience: You're paddling through a light mist around one of Michigan's most remote places only to see the nearby Cemetery Island rise out of the water, just off the mainland.

Contained inside this small island are at least nine marked or partially-marked graves that hark back to the 1850s - an era when the nation's copper rush stretched past the northern reaches of the Upper Peninsula.

Many of the graves likely are associated with the area's copper mines. At least one was dug for an infant. And there is island lore that perhaps ties others to the 1885 loss of the steamer Algoma, the deadliest shipwreck in Lake Superior's maritime history.

"It's special because it definitely captures the interest of island visitors. You can see the mystique," said Seth DePasqual, an archeologist and cultural resources manager for the National Park Service, who has looked at some of Cemetery Island's archived material….more

 

©2016 Linda Sullivan – Simpson
The Past Whispers
All Rights Reserved

The Search for Missing Friends

 

I found a book called The Search for Missing Friends, Vol. I I think the price was $3, it’s a fat book, over 600 pages compiling the advertisments placed in the Boston Pilot of Irish immigrants looking for friends and loved ones. Now I see Boston College has inventoried these listings and have placed them in a searchable database.

“THERE WAS A TIDAL WAVE of Irish immigration to North America in the nineteenth and early twentieth century. Some came to escape political upheaval, famine, and poverty, while others simply hoped to start a better life in the new world. During this time, formal communication was by the written word, but an international postal system was just emerging, making it difficult for those who had immigrated to keep in touch with those they had left behind. The result was that many of those in Ireland had no idea where their relatives and friends might be. Many new Irish Americans simply became “lost” to those who cared for them.”

You may view the database here.

©2016 Linda Sullivan – Simpson
The Past Whispers
All Rights Reserved

Burnside House

 

No house in Montreal's history has been the object of so much struggle and the subject of so many unfulfilled aspirations as Burnside house, which once stood on McGill College Avenue just up from Maisonneuve.

Like many fur traders who had made their fortunes and wished to settle down, James McGill purchased a farm on the side of Mount Royal. He called it Burnside after the stream ("burn" in Scots) running through it. The property was about 46 acres, and featured orchards and fields, as well as a "very commodious country house…with a most excellent garden." McGill's diary accounts of growing hay, apples, melons, cucumbers, peaches and grapes all reinforce the image of a comfortably retired gentleman. Having no children of his own, and knowing his wife's sons from a former marriage were well taken care of, McGill willed the Burnside estate to the newly-formed Royal Institution for the Advancement of Learning in hopes that this paragovernmental body would establish a college on the estate - what eventually became McGill University.

James McGill died in 1813. While the Royal Institution was getting its act together, McGill's stepson decided he had rights to Burnside, and a legal battle ensued. In was only in 1829 that the Royal Institution was able to occupy the estate, and the first principal, the Reverend George Mountain, could preside over the college's official opening at Burnside house. But after the court case there were no funds left to hire professors, so the house and estate were leased to farmers for several years. Mountain, moreover, lived in Quebec City, so a local man to replace him as principal was found in 1835: the Reverend John Bethune. Bethune decided that Burnside house should be the principal's official residence, and moved in - quite against the wishes of the Royal Institution. Bethune promoted the construction of what became known as the Arts Building higher up the hill on another part of the estate. When it opened, in 1843, teaching could at last begin - although in the first year there were only three students.

Having decided that it would fund the running of the new college by renting the lower part of the estate, the Royal Institution asked Bethune to vacate the house, which he did only after a great deal of protest. He also took the entirely inappropriate step of personally engaging a real estate agent, Joshua Pelton, to subdivide the lower part of McGill's estate as building lots, with rent money going directly into the principal's hands. Furthermore, this arrangement was made in such a way that Pelton was able to claim he was now the owner of the land. Pelton leased the house and gardens to a market gardener, Neil McIntosh, who at one point had the Royal Institution, Pelton, and the college bursar, Joseph Abbott (father of the future prime minister), all asking him for rent. McIntosh eventually left in confusion, but it was not until 1847 that the Royal Institution was able to force Pelton out and reassert its ownership. By that time the economy was sluggish, so the Royal Institution secretary, William Burrage, was allowed to occupy the house for four years, while local farmers used the grounds for pasture. On occasion, the Montreal Cricket Club was allowed to practice in the Burnside fields.

Attempts to sell bits of the estate to raise money were not very successful even after the economy began to revive, but in 1852 the Royal Institution decided it could profitably generate income by leasing the house. The new occupants were the Birks family, whose son Henry would later found a famous jewellery store. The gardens, as well as part of the basement and one of the outdoor privies, were leased to market gardener William Riley. Within a few years, lot sales did pick up, and a new street was laid out running straight up to the college: appropriately, it was called McGill College Avenue. By 1857 lots along this new street were purchased by builders who put up elegant terraced houses. Burnside house, which straddled lots 74 and 75, soon looked rather drab in the midst of this new fashionable neighbourhood. Nevertheless, the enterprising Riley bought both lots and moved in for several years.

In 1863 Riley rented the house (but stayed on as the gardener, apparently living in part of the basement) to Isabella and Annabella McIntosh (daughters of former Burnside tenant Neil McIntosh), who operated a ladies academy there. A few years later, the McIntosh academy (renamed Bute House School) moved up to the corner of Sherbrooke Street and other private schools occupied Burnside house until it was in such need of repair that Riley sold it and it was torn down. Once fought over, James McGill's old home was now an embarrassment next to the mansions around it and the shining university thriving just above it.

 

©2016 Linda Sullivan – Simpson
The Past Whispers
All Rights Reserved

Vive la différence!

 

While you are all familiar with such Christmas staple songs as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Holy Night, Jingle Bells and Winter Wonderland, you may not be aware that we sing the same songs in French, only with translated lyrics. Sometimes the French lyrics are very similar to the English ones (Sleigh Ride is about a, well, sleigh ride in both languages, for instance). But quite often, only the melody is retained and the whole theme of the song changes entirely. Most often it’s because the new theme allows the French version to use words that fit the music better. Other times, it’s because the song would make cultural references that wouldn’t be as familiar.

One of the most different songs when translated is Jingle Bells. The original English song is about riding in a one-horse sleigh on a bright winter day. The French version, however, becomes Vive le vent and is all about the cold winter wind and how it brings an old man memories of his childhood winters.

Almost as different is Holy Night, the song about Jesus’ birth, which becomes Minuit, chrétiens, a reference to the Catholic midnight mass so popular in Québec. One of the starkest differences is the translation of the verse, “Fall on your knees! Oh hear the angel voices!”, which in French becomes, “Peuple à genoux! Attend ta délivrance!” (Kneeling people, await thy deliverance!)

It’s rather interesting that the English version is an exhortation to kneel in worship of the newborn King of Kings, while the French version addresses an already kneeling people, telling them that they will need kneel no longer when Jesus brings about their deliverance.

It’s not only the Christmas carols that are reworked. Sometimes a concept is simply given a little tweak to fit in better with the French culture. You may remember old Canadian Tire commercials featuring the character of Scrooge. The concept was well summed-up with the chain’s Christmas slogan: “Give like Santa and save like Scrooge!”

While Scrooge is known in Québec thanks to the translated Dickens work and of course its numerous adaptations, he’s just not traditionally a part of the lore. He’s more of a British creation. So when Canadian Tire produced French versions of the commercial, they kept the concept of the penny-pinching miser, but Scrooge instead became “Gratteux” (a French slang term for a spendthrift or a cheapskate), Santa’s accountant elf. The character’s costume remained the same and he was simply played by a French-Canadian actor.

courtesy – Chez Seb

 

©2016 Linda Sullivan – Simpson
The Past Whispers
All Rights Reserved

La chasse-galerie – a tale of Christmas

 

Back in the late 19th century, many French-Canadian men spent long winters in remote logging camps to support their families back in the cities and towns. In those days before modern travels, coming back every week or even month for a visit was out of the question. So the men would spend the whole season, including the holidays, far from their loved ones.

One Christmas (or New Year’s) Eve, a group of such men in a lonely camp were feeling homesick and wanted to spend the réveillon with their wives and girlfriends. So they made a deal with the devil: the Prince of Darkness would make their canoe fly over the forests and hills so they could go back to their homes for the night. Old Scratch gave three conditions to respect: they could not swear, they could not touch a church steeple with their canoe while in flight, and they had to be back at camp before 6 o’clock in the morning. If they broke any one of those rules, their souls would be damned to hell forever. Despite the risk, the homesick men agreed and off they flew!

The reunion with their beloveds are joyous indeed and they spend the night drinking and dancing. When they realize the late hour, they hurry back to the canoe to get back to camp before the devilish deadline. Of course, in their inebriated states they are much more prone to swearing or accidentally ramming the craft into a church. And one of them invariably begins to get agitated and comes close to swearing, so his panicked companions gag and tie him up, but he eventually breaks free and swears. The canoe crashes into a tall tree and the passengers are knocked out when they hit the ground.

In the most famous version, by Honoré-Beaugrand, the men wake up the next morning and never speak of the adventure again. However, in other versions they are doomed to fly forever across the sky, their souls never getting to their eternal rest. And they say if you look out on Christmas or New Year’s Eve, you can sometimes get a glimpse of the bewitched canoe.

While a deal with the devil might be an odd choice of theme for a Christmas story, it’s really indicative of the loneliness that develops when hardworking and honest men are forced to spend the holidays on their own, far from their kin.

While the most famous element of the chasse-galerie, the flying canoe, came about in 19th century Québec, it’s actually a newer version of an even older story from France. It is told that a nobleman named the Sieur de Galerie was such an avid hunter that he even skipped church in order to enjoy his favourite sport. The Lord did not take kindly to this and condemned his soul to forever run across the sky pursued by celestial hunters and wolves.

 

©2016 Linda Sullivan-Simpson
The Past Whispers
All Rights Reserved

Buche de Noel

 

 

Buche de Noel is one of many traditional cakes baked at Christmas. As the name suggests, it is of French origin. The name of this recipe literally translates as "Christmas log," referring to the traditional Yule log burned centuries past. The ingedients suggest the cake is most likely a 19th century creation. That's when thinly rolled sponge cakes filled with jam or cream and covered with buttercream icing begin to show up in European cook books. Marzipan and meringue, typically employed for decorative purposes, date to the Medieval Ages and the 17th century respectively. We find no person/place/company credited for having *invented* this particular confection.

"[In France] where the buche de Noel, a roll of light sponge cake, is covered in chocolate or coffee buttercream textured to resemble bark. The conceit is carried further by mounding the cream over small pieces of cake stuck to the main roll, to represent trimmed branches. The ends of the roll and the cut faces of the branches are finished with vanilla cream, imitating pale newly cut wood, and the whole is decorated with leaves made from icing, or meringue mushrooms."

---Oxford Companion to Food, Alan Davidson, [Oxford University Press:Oxford] 1999 (p. 184)

 

The yule log cake is served at the midnight feast that follows Mass on Christmas Eve. Although it does not take the place of our flaming Christmas pudding, it makes a nice dessert to serve at any time during the Christmas season.

Buche de Noel

4 egg yolks
1/3 cup sugar
1/2 cup sifted all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons melted butter
3 egg whites
Chocolate Butter Cream 1
1 teaspoon instant coffee
1 teaspoon hot water
2 or 3 blanched almonds
angelica
candied cherries
green sugar

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.

Rinse the mixing bowl with hot water and wrap a hot wet towel around the base. Combine the egg yolks and sugar and beat for 5 minutes or until the mixture has doubled in volume. Fold in the flour and then the butter, which should be cooled. Fold in the beaten egg whites gently but thoroughly.

Butter a small, rimmed baking sheet or roasting pan (10X14) and dust it with flour. Pour the batter into the pan and smooth it evenly with a knife. Bake 10 minutes. Spread a damp towel on a marble slab or table. Run a knife around the edge of the baked cake and turn the pan upside down on the towel, leaving the pan on top of the cake until it is cool. Make the butter cream, using 5 egg yolks, and add to it the dissolved instant coffee. Spread the cake with the butter cream and roll it up lenghthwise like a jelly roll. Place seam side down on a long serving tray and cut off both ends diagonally. Put the remaining butter cream in a pastry bag fitted with a flat cannellated tip. Force the cream lengthwise over the surface of the cake to give the appearance of bark. Place a 'knot' here and there. Decorate the cake with almonds and a sprig of holly made with strips of angelica and little rounds of candied cherries. Sprinkle very lightly with green sugar."

 

©2016 Linda Sullivan-Simpson
The Past Whispers
All Rights Reserved

Peter McAuslan

 

Peter McAuslan's family originated from Glasgow, Scotland. His father grew up in NDG and worked for CN. His mother was from Lachine, where he grew up. He attended John Grant High School, after which he studied at Sir George Williams University, graduating with a BA in 1972.

He was employed by the YMCA for several years as a community organizer before taking a position at Dawson College (where he later became the Secretary General).

Peter began experimenting with home brewing and took a trip with his wife to Europe to learn more about independent breweries. He put together a business plan for opening his own brewery, and began to seek out investors (many of which were his colleagues at Dawson).

While still working at Dawson, Peter and Ellen visited a friend's brewery in Portland. This friend, Allan Pugsey, showed Ellen, a biologist, how to brew beer. In 1988, at the age of forty, Peter quit his job and went about setting up his brewery.

They built their brewery slowly. They began by producing one type of beer (St. Ambroise Pale Ale) and working with a staff of four. By 2000, they had employed 40-50 people. That same year, they struck a deal with Moosehead to distribute locally. They then invested in a new brewing space, new equipment and a bigger payroll.

Peter's sons Todd and Taylor are also involved with the company. Todd distributes in the Plateau while Taylor focuses on the maritimes. The company as a whole distributes in six canadian provinces.

Peter was at one time the President of the Quebec Microbrewery Association, and a director of the Brewer's Association of Canada and the Association of Brewers in the U.S.

 

©2016 Linda Sullivan-Simpson
The Past Whispers
All Rights Reserved