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Authors: Janet Kellough
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railway company. Anyhow, Plews intends to get some satisfaction.â
âCould be Plews didnât really own it either,â said one toothless old man who had hobbled into the meeting on the arm of his neighbour and now sat on the bench closest to the window. âNor Boulton neither, if it comes to that.â
âWhat are you talking about, Walter?â his neighbour said.
âMy uncle farmed that land on shares maybe fifty, sixty years ago, but he couldnât never get clear title for it. There was some problem.â The old man stopped and mumbled his gums while he thought about this. âNow, I just canât quite remember the ins and outs of it, but any road, he moved on. Nice piece of property, though, right there by the lake.â
âAre you sure, Walter? I didnât know your Uncle Albert ever farmed back at the lake.â The neighbour was obviously skeptical about the story.
âNo, no, tâwasnât Uncle Albert. It was Uncle Lem Palmer. Or maybe it was Uncle Syl. No, it musta been Uncle Lem, âcause he was married to Aunt Harriet â¦â
The old man embarked on a long, complicated explanation of his family tree. The others chuckled indulgently, but Thaddeus figured the core point of the story could well be true. Land titles were tricky things in Upper Canada â proving which parcels were grants and which were purchases, which ones had fulfilled the requirements for a patent, and which had been assigned to settlers who failed to clear the requisite number of acres and therefore forfeited the land to the Crown. The Heir and Devisee Commission existed to sort it all out, but often the original records had been lost or destroyed or simply not recorded accurately. Sometimes land passed through two or three generations with no clear title in place, and a grandson might discover that he couldnât get a mortgage on his property because his grandfather hadnât really owned it in the first place.
Thaddeus would be surprised if the railway company hadnât made certain of their ownership before they began to build, but then, he reflected, everything about the Cobourg railway was being done in a hurry and they may not have bothered before they began construction.
In any event, it wasnât really any of his business and he gently tried to steer the conversation back to the original purpose of the meeting. But he did wonder what would happen to the Sully Railroad Station if Mr. Plews could make his accusations stick. He would probably just be paid off, Thaddeus guessed. The railway company appeared to have no end of funds at their disposal, so what was a little extra to make a problem go away? And that, he decided, was probably what Plews was angling for.
The road that wound its way along the shore of Lake Ontario was kept in reasonable repair, and after the conclusion of the meeting, he made good time, arriving back in Cobourg just before suppertime. He stabled and fed his horse, then walked across the yard to the manse. To his surprise, James Small was standing just inside the back porch, a pie in his hand. Martha leaned against the jamb of the door that led into the kitchen. Small seemed flustered when he saw Thaddeus.
âMr. Lewis,â he stammered. âIâm surprised to see you so soon.â
âYou too,â Thaddeus said. Small must have galloped through his appointments and galloped right home again.
âMotherâs just sent over an apple pie,â Small said, whisking away the cloth that covered the pan and holding it out for Thaddeus to see, as if he had been challenged somehow about what he was carrying and needed to justify his presence.
âExcellent!â Thaddeus said. A pie was always a welcome thing.
âThank you, Mr. Small,â Martha said and reached for the pan. âAnd tell your mother Iâm very much obliged.â
Small nodded at her, and then at Thaddeus, before he stumbled out the
âCould be Plews didnât really own it either,â said one toothless old man who had hobbled into the meeting on the arm of his neighbour and now sat on the bench closest to the window. âNor Boulton neither, if it comes to that.â
âWhat are you talking about, Walter?â his neighbour said.
âMy uncle farmed that land on shares maybe fifty, sixty years ago, but he couldnât never get clear title for it. There was some problem.â The old man stopped and mumbled his gums while he thought about this. âNow, I just canât quite remember the ins and outs of it, but any road, he moved on. Nice piece of property, though, right there by the lake.â
âAre you sure, Walter? I didnât know your Uncle Albert ever farmed back at the lake.â The neighbour was obviously skeptical about the story.
âNo, no, tâwasnât Uncle Albert. It was Uncle Lem Palmer. Or maybe it was Uncle Syl. No, it musta been Uncle Lem, âcause he was married to Aunt Harriet â¦â
The old man embarked on a long, complicated explanation of his family tree. The others chuckled indulgently, but Thaddeus figured the core point of the story could well be true. Land titles were tricky things in Upper Canada â proving which parcels were grants and which were purchases, which ones had fulfilled the requirements for a patent, and which had been assigned to settlers who failed to clear the requisite number of acres and therefore forfeited the land to the Crown. The Heir and Devisee Commission existed to sort it all out, but often the original records had been lost or destroyed or simply not recorded accurately. Sometimes land passed through two or three generations with no clear title in place, and a grandson might discover that he couldnât get a mortgage on his property because his grandfather hadnât really owned it in the first place.
Thaddeus would be surprised if the railway company hadnât made certain of their ownership before they began to build, but then, he reflected, everything about the Cobourg railway was being done in a hurry and they may not have bothered before they began construction.
In any event, it wasnât really any of his business and he gently tried to steer the conversation back to the original purpose of the meeting. But he did wonder what would happen to the Sully Railroad Station if Mr. Plews could make his accusations stick. He would probably just be paid off, Thaddeus guessed. The railway company appeared to have no end of funds at their disposal, so what was a little extra to make a problem go away? And that, he decided, was probably what Plews was angling for.
The road that wound its way along the shore of Lake Ontario was kept in reasonable repair, and after the conclusion of the meeting, he made good time, arriving back in Cobourg just before suppertime. He stabled and fed his horse, then walked across the yard to the manse. To his surprise, James Small was standing just inside the back porch, a pie in his hand. Martha leaned against the jamb of the door that led into the kitchen. Small seemed flustered when he saw Thaddeus.
âMr. Lewis,â he stammered. âIâm surprised to see you so soon.â
âYou too,â Thaddeus said. Small must have galloped through his appointments and galloped right home again.
âMotherâs just sent over an apple pie,â Small said, whisking away the cloth that covered the pan and holding it out for Thaddeus to see, as if he had been challenged somehow about what he was carrying and needed to justify his presence.
âExcellent!â Thaddeus said. A pie was always a welcome thing.
âThank you, Mr. Small,â Martha said and reached for the pan. âAnd tell your mother Iâm very much obliged.â
Small nodded at her, and then at Thaddeus, before he stumbled out the
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