Joseph Quesnel and Gold Pan City

Joseph Quesnel died 200 years ago today. I expect the anniversary will pass unnoticed by the remnants of our daily newspapers. In the late 18th and early 19th centuries, Quesnel was the most accomplished dramatist and poet living and working in the Canadas. A businessman and militia officer, his life in the arts has been traced back to 1780, when he performed with several amateur theatrical companies. Nine years later Quesnel formed the Théâtre de Société, a venture he was forced to defend against attacks from the Church and the Gazette. His Colas et Collinette; ou le Bailli dupé debuted in 1790 as the first operetta written in North America. Other theatrical works followed, but it is his poetry that most deserves notice.

Little attention is paid to Quesnel these days, yet his name lives on, spread throughout British Columbia's Caribou District. The Quesnel Highland, the Quesnel River, Quesnel Lake, Quesnel Indian Reserve and, of course, the City of Quesnel, owe their names to son Jules-Maurice, who in 1808 explored the area with Simon Fraser.

Charles G.D. Roberts' Dominion Day Collect

Admirable sentiments from Confederation Poet Charles G.D. Roberts. Written in the early months of 1885, it was first published in the July 1886 issue of New York's The Century magazine. The above was drawn from Roberts' collection In Divers Tones (Boston: Lothrop, 1886).

Related post:

Two Hurrahs for the New Dominion

Galt's Damaged Pastor Novelist

92 Glenmorris Street, Cambridge, Ontario, home of Robert E. Knowles

I spent much of this past Father's Day in Cambridge, that awkward, factitious product of forced amalgamation. It's a city without a centre, dominated by a strip of parasitic plazas, malls and big box retailers. Still, the older areas have retained much of their beauty. The gem remains the weakened downtown of what was once Galt. Margaret Avison was born here and, as a girl, Mazo de la Roche called it home.

One hundred years ago, Galt's literary community was dominated by Robert E. Knowles, novelist and very popular pastor of Knox's Presbyterian Church. It's said that for a time Knowles' Canadian sales rivaled those of L. M. Montgomery and Ralph Connor. Between 1905 and 1911 the reverend published seven novels, including The Handicap (1910), which I have before me. I confess that I've never made it past the first page:

"An' how far might it be to Liddel's Corners now, boss?"

The man who asked the question seemed very much in earnest about it and his tone. which, by the way, was distinctly Irish, implied that considerable hung upon the answer.

As one sets down the commonplace inquiry after the long lapse of years it certainly sounds insignificant enough. But it was quite a different matter to the rosy-cheeked traveller that frosty winter morning as the heavily-laden stage made its creaking way along the primitive road that led from Hamilton to Glen Ridge.

Nor did the question seem a trifling one to the other occupants of the four-seated sleigh, if quick and eager glances in the direction of the driver may be considered evidences of interest. As a matter of fact, some of them stirred a little in their seats as...

Yes, yes, yes, but how far to Liddel's Corners?

(The answer – nine miles – comes at the end of the third page.)

Thumbing through The Handicap, I see that I may have been too ready to dismiss. 'The Canadian atmosphere gives it a touch of the unusual', says an anonymous 1911 New York Times review, but I see signs of even greater quirkiness.

In the novel's concluding chapters, 'The Right Hon., The Premier' and 'Sir John A.'s Handiwork', none other than John A. Macdonald shows up to save the day.

After The Handicap Knowles wrote only one more novel, The Singer of the Kootenay. Jean O'Grady, who penned Knowles' entry in The Oxford Companion to Canadian Literature, suggests that alcoholism brought an end to his careers as a novelist and as a minister of the cloth. Not at all fitting for a man who'd previously devoted much energy to the goals of the temperance movement. Knowles spent his later years working as a journalist for the Toronto Daily Star.

Cambridge has honoured Knowles with a spot in its 'Hall of Fame', making much of his work against that old demon alcohol, while carefully avoiding mention of his personal struggles with drink.

The city's large public library system doesn't have a single one of his books.

A Song for la Fête de la St-Jean

A translation of 'Ô Canada! mon pays! mes amours!', composed by the great George-Étienne Cartier, ninth president of the Société Saint-Jean-Baptiste. First sung at a society banquet on la Fête de la St-Jean in 1834 or 1835, this version comes from Songs of French Canada (Toronto: Musson, 1909), selected and arranged by Lawrence J. Burpee. Cartier's words were translated by E. W. Thomson.

Always amusing to consider that Cartier, by far the most accomplished president of the now sovereignist Société, was one of the leading Fathers of Confederation.

Related post: Encore!

(Probably Not) The David Lewis Centenary

Youngsters David Lewis and A. M. Klein

Recognition today of David Lewis, né Losz, born sometime around one hundred years ago in Svisloch, Russia. The Canadian Encyclopedia has Lewis' date of birth as 23 June 1909, but family biographer Cameron Smith tells us that the happy event likely took place a little over three months later. In his Unfinished Journey: The Lewis Family, Smith writes that 23 June was 'the first date that popped into David's twelve-year-old head' when confronted by a Halifax immigration officer. The Parliament of Canada website provides the same date, without comment, and muddies the water by placing Svisloch in Poland. In fact, the town has been Russian since 1795.

While Lewis isn't thought of as literary figure, he did count a number of writers among his friends. A. M. Klein was a pal from his days at Montreal's Baron Byng High School. Lewis' first book, Make this Your Canada, was co-authored by F. R. Scott. There followed another couple of titles: A Socialist Takes Stock and Louder Voices – the latter introducing the term 'corporate welfare bums', for which he is, perhaps, best remembered. Lewis was working on his biography when he died. What he did manage was published posthumously as The Good Fight: Political Memoirs 1909-1958.